Coiled atop a rise, its tail wrapped in perfect stillness, Embercoil watches. Not the kind of dragon that scorches or conquers, this one guards stories. Rests among them. Listens to them breathe.
Perched on the back of an old, book-spined world, this hand-sculpted dragon curls around a mound as if it’s always belonged there. Its scales are subtle, its wings folded softly against its body. The clay is painted in deep earth tones with quiet embers of red that catch the light just so, hints of fire, long banked.
This is not a beast of chaos, but of ancient memory. A keeper of forgotten fables and the space between pages. A piece for those who feel that some stories are best protected by silence and watchful eyes.
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