The wolves gazed up with lookes of awe,
The Black Dragon had came.
They made some room for her to land.
Avalia was her name.
Avalia was a Black Dragon.
She was everybody's helper.
But although she was kind and sweet,
She had a deadly temper.
One young wolf came and bit her tail,
And drew blood at the skin,
Avalia winced and then she said
"My friend, that was a SIN..."
She growled and thrashed and roared out loud,
The wolf just ran for cover,
But as Avalia changed, it knew,
That danger was far from over.
Avalia's body grew tall and long,
And towered above the trees,
She looked down on the poor wolf pack;
They were, next to her, small as fleas.
Another wolf yelped and turned to run,
But his fear was not acknowleged
And Avalia reached out with thin, sharp claws
And left their form a wreckage
The rest of them howled and ran in terror...
...they didn't get away.
For because of the dragon's deadly rage,
Every wolf in the pack died that day...
So don't enrage Avalia.
She'll kill you there and then.
Just giving you a warning...
...her anger means the end.
My first proper attempt at writing a poem about my fursona. This poem focuses on my normally kind fursona's flaw...she has an incredibly short temper, and when she's angry...you'd better watch out.
Any opinions?
