At that moment, she was sure that she would die.
She couldn't deduce how she felt towards it, the thunderous growl of the dragon sending everywhere quaking to the extent that she had been vibrating on the ground she had fallen to.
Her heart was hammering, the racing of her chest painful to the point that she could feel it in her lungs, throat, everywhere.
Her eyes were shut tight, her eyelids aching from how hard she was squeezing them, her lips trembling and even though she felt the need to cry from her fear, her tears had deserted her, her throat betrayed her and her tongue felt nailed down to the roof of her mouth.
She couldn't say a word.
There were small rocks falling from the top of the den on her, like it would collapse anytime soon.
Maybe that was what the beast wanted. To watch her die from something else asides from her flames, crush this den on her, bury her alive, and give a 'befitting burial' to her master.
