[Gift] The 11th Hour | Cinnamon

He hated this. The smell was unbearable.

The giant dragon crouched atop a canyon ridge, nostrils flaring as the evening wind carried the spicy sweetness through the desert. Below him stretched a forest of wild-grown cinnamon trees, twisted and red-barked, their branches swaying peacefully in the heat. His black scales rattled as he growled low in his throat. Saliva dripped from his saber-like fangs and hissed against the rocks. The tyrannosaurus-sized beast slammed one claw into the ground hard enough to crack stone.

“Rotten stink-trees,” he snarled, then he charged.

The canyon shook beneath his weight. Monti crashed into the first grove like an avalanche of claws and fury. Trees exploded into splinters beneath his armored shoulders. He bit through trunks thicker than an arm and hurled them into the sky. Cinnamon bark scattered everywhere, making the smell even stronger. That only seemed to make him angrier. He opened his massive jaws to unleash a deafening roar or fury. Animals fled in terror. Birds burst from the trees screaming. Monti chased them all away, snapping at anything that lingered near the cursed scent. What could he do to make the scent go away? To no longer haunt his nostrils with that horrid scent? His giant clawed feet slammed into the ground splintered with the force of it. Cracks spread from where his feet had landed as far as the eye could see. If he could, he would rid the area of all the trees in a heartbeat, oh the wonders he could do if he was a fire dragon…