From gods I stole the sun itself; Trailing tail of black and smoke. My feathers singed beyond repair My grating voice, a screech I quoth

Marks dragged deep by claws on floor; A grating at your bedroom door. A name for king of wretched souls; The underworld under my control

Scales overlapped, Heart devoured. Friendly thistle, Not yet flowered.

I am very rarely found in nature, but I can be quite pretty. I can be unappetizing, but also be a sweet treat. Look to the sky, you will see me, when you are down, you will be me.

I am a warrior, but I wear no steel. My quest is to fight, protect, and heal. My foe is evergrowing and tough to defeat. For with my sworn duty, you can feel the heat.