The Popsicle

As he stood there before her, struggling to find a place to start, Faereluth's old eyes percived something, he was wounded. Her nose awoke to the smell of blood, warm, fresh, human! In Red Dragons it would have taken much less to drive them into a ravenous feeding frenzy. But she was a Blue Dragon, gentle and shy, her kind wiped almost totally from Middle Earth, she believed she was the last one.

Not a man eater, she lived on fish. Dragon's motabolism is very slow, they could go many many years without feasting, when they did eat they ate in plenty but then as they seldom ate stocks soon recovered. However having just woken Faereluth was hungry, her stomach grumbling noisely at its emptiness.

Despite his 'wish' to die Bragolath found it a bit disconcerting, standing, listening to her belly complain as to why she wasn't already eating him.

"Why don't you just eat me and shut your guts up."