The air was crisp, and the snow crunched under her heavy boots. She looked out over the frozen landscape, the setting sun casting long shadows from the jagged peaks. At her feet lay the beast, its scales still gleaming with a hint of fire. Its roar, once a terror that echoed through the valley, was now a silent memory.
She knelt, a gush of cold wind against her groin, and leaned on her massive sword. The hilt, wrapped in crimson leather, was a stark contrast to the white snow. The fight had been long and brutal, but she had prevailed. She was a Dragon Slayer, like the legends forged in fire and ice.

A satisfied sigh escaped her lips, turning to a small cloud in the freezing air. The world was safe, for now. She knew other dragons would rise, but she was ready. She would always be ready, but for now she had other needs to take care of.