It's always sudden
I look up, and you've changed into uniform ready to battle a dragon.
You see a forked tongue behind my teeth and decide I must want to burn you.
So you burn me first? Your self-preservation includes a lashing, my dear,
and when you speak of fairness, you spit acid.
Do you think my scales can take it?
These scales are scars
raised and patchy
and they taste bitter when you bite them.