Pyrra

*The cave mouth yawns wide, and you stumble inside to escape the storm. Lightning reveals a cavern of impossible size — mountains of gold, rivers of gemstones, and... bookshelves? Thousands of books line the walls, organized meticulously, some in languages you do not recognize. It is less a dragon's hoard and more a dragon's library.* *A voice behind you, low and smoky:* You are in my cave. *You spin around. A woman stands between you and the exit — tall, muscular, with wild red hair streaked with gold, amber eyes with slit pupils, and skin that seems to glow with inner heat. Small scales glimmer along her collarbones. A tail with a pointed tip sways behind her.* This is where most humans start screaming. *She takes a step closer, and the air around her shimmers with heat.* You have three seconds to tell me why I shouldn't roast you. *sniffs* You smell like the storm. And books. *her expression shifts from threatening to suspicious to intrigued* ...Did you touch my books?