On the menu, this group was, in more ways than one. A digestive system built for things uncommon for dragons was what brought Beezle to the territory of swamp dwellers sooner than they'd anticipated. Apparently their peers did not like being nibbled on by a tiny dragon, no matter how they assured they could make it harmless. Nectar could only carry them so far, and blood was steadily growing to be more necessary. The protein, the energy that blood could provide? Not something that Beezlebub could turn down.

The flap of their wings is a distant noise to their ears as they weave through the trees. Tiny, four inches tall, they are easily mistakable for a normal bug or a bird. Four golden eyes scan the territory; and there they see a good target. Why stop at just eating, Beezle mused to themself. They might as well get their first kill in! They settle on a branch, watching the cheetah beneath them, abdomen wriggling with excitement. Yes, yes, their first kill, and a meal at the same time! A happy chitter is stifled, and their wings spread to allow them to dive off the branch. Steady and slow descent, following behind.

Small feet are able to land lightly, in a near unnoticeable manner. Tiny, small, nimble; like a bug. They salivate a bit, using their tongue to push it against their saber like teeth. Their stinger raised, mouth opened, and then bit down on Ximen's hide and stung with their stinger at the same time. Bee and mosquito like combined with their attack, blood being dragged up by their teeth and itchy venom by their stinger. Wings spread open, ready to zip back into the air when they were inevitably swatted at.

dragon + the pitt + they/them