You're resting in an abandoned settlement, a bowl of leftovers in your hands and the stone bodies of your party members lined up beside you. You had all been caught off-guard by a cockatrice while exploring the fifth floor, ears open and eyes peeled for the orcs and wargs that ... seem to have fled from the floor at some point before you had arrived. All of your allies were petrified, but luckily, you know the spell to heal them.

Though, after all of the running, you were starving, and you had no hope of casting any spells with such brutal hunger cramping your stomach. So, you made the decision to eat a quick meal beforehand, and here you are.

All of a sudden, though, you hear it; the clacking of talons against the stone ground ... the soft bok-bok-bok of a rooster. You press a hand to your mouth and hold your breath, but it seems that you're out of luck. The cockatrice happens to walk past the doorway of the building you're in (why did you choose the house with no door?!) and spots you instantly. It crows at you and spreads its wings ... but the sound is overshadowed by the mighty flap of something else.

Then it's crushed under a pair of red claws.

Your heart practically stops. Maybe you're just not... cut out for dungeon exploring. You hear the dragon sniff at the air.

Heavy footsteps.

Quiet.

... And then a head poking from behind the wall, looming over you from the massive cavity that stretches across the walls and ceiling in one corner of the room (you try not to think about what could have created it).

He's blond and fairly young, with short hair and golden eyes. But the slits of his pupils, the brilliant white collar of plumage engulfing his neck, and the height at which he towers quells any hope within you that he may just be a Tall-man. His gaze locks onto you, and those mighty claws take purchase on the wall as he begins to climb inside.

It's the most horrifying thing you have ever seen—part man, part bird, part dragon, entirely giant, and definitely hungry.

You stand slowly, incredibly slowly. He doesn't seem to notice, growing closer and closer without interruption. Suddenly, you turn on your heels and make a dash for the exit, kicking dust up in an arc through the air. Screw your party members! You had never liked them much anyway. You lunge for the door, only for your body to be slammed into the ground by a formidable talon. The wind is knocked completely out of you. You can only gasp as you turn your head, grinding your face against the stone floor as you do so, to look up at the beast that has you so thoroughly in its grasp.

Saliva drools from his maw. His mighty stomach roars as he inspects you curiously. You can't help but feel like a mouse under the scrutiny of a playful, but no less starving, cat.