-Meneo-
The cold crept in, relentless. The dragon god exhaled, his breath curling like smoke. No fire. No heat. Just the failing lungs of a body that wasn't his. It had once, long ago, before divinity took him, before sacrifice shaped him. Now, it was rotting around him. His magic kept it moving, held its bones together with sheer force of will, but he could feel the decay setting in. The slow unraveling. A vessel stretched too thin, worn through by time and power that it was never meant to wield.
