Tilden the thief crept softly along a lengthy, yet surprisingly vast tunnel. His instincts told him the treasure wasn't too far off, perhaps around the next corner. After years of taking different hoards, he could sense the presence of different valuables such as gold and silver. This bounty was mostly comprised of silver, opals, moonstones and white gold, what a trove! He rounded the rough corner, his fingers prickling with anticipation of his heist and – came face to face with two large grey eyes.

"Eeep!" Tilden cried in shock. He jumped back quickly, but not quick enough to escape a set of silver claws which surprisingly pinned him down instead of chopping him to bits.

"Pesky human thief," a silvery whisper cooed, "Why are you running about my cave? You'll not get my treasure that way, wee one."

The claws carefully plucked him from the ground and put him on eye level with the creature's deep eyes. Tilden tried to struggle, but the grip was too firm, gentle, but firm.

"I- I…" he stuttered, completely overwhelmed by his luck at not being killed, but also by the fright that death was around the corner for him. He tried to think up some kind of excuse but before he could start the voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"You are lucky to have chosen me to try to rob, but luck won't last if you try it again." The voice took on a note of steel that sent shivers through Tilden's body, "I am not going to kill you today, because I take the fact that you want to steal my hoard as a compliment. You wanted to see my treasure? Fine. I will show it to you, I was feeling lonely for another voice anyway…"

With that, the claws loosened, but to Tilden's dismay, he saw a mouth of fangs coming at him. Stifling a scream as he expected to feel the fangs pierce his skin, he was pleasantly stunned to find the teeth clamp lightly on his shirt instead.

The gentle giant carefully shuffled through an archway and into a large room that glowed not with the warm, crackling firelight sensation of gold, but of the cool, silent icy feel of silver. Shimmering heaps of pale treasures were piled everywhere, it was such a sight to behold, and feel mentally, that he didn't notice the teeth carefully placing him on the floor. Behind him came a content sigh and the sound of a large beast sitting down.

"It's…magnificent…" he said breathlessly, trying to articulate the sheer amount of beauty into a sentence.

"I often wonder if it really is." Said the silvery voice, "Sure it's nice to look at, but I sometimes think I would give it all up for a good friend…alas it is as Geheran continually says 'You think too much.'" There was another sigh and then the voice stayed quiet.

Tilden finally gathered the courage to turn around and look at his temporary captor. All speculations and rumors were nothing compared to seeing, being in the presence of a real dragon. The dragon was slightly larger than two tall horses, and was covered with very flexible, very small, silver scales. The dragon's head was long, like a horse, with the exception that it's jaws were much longer, giving it a larger mouth and a slightly hooked beak at the tip of its muzzle. The eyes were also set forward, the essential mark of a predator, and it had two long, slender, graceful horns similar to that of an antelope. The dragon's neck was long, but not extremely so and it walked on four legs, each one with its own set of impressive claws. Its body was supple with the sinewy grace of a large cat, its tail was longer than its neck, and had a crescent moon shaped fin on the end that he knew was sharper than any man-made blade. Yet, the most spectacular part of the dragon was its wings; they were a mixture between a bats wing and a snowy owl's. The main portion of each wing was covered in scales that gradually blended into small white feathers that progressively became larger.

"Are you impressed?" The dragon queried with an elegant raise of its eyebrow, "I doubt you've met too many dragons."