Charlotte: Fated to the White Dragon
But then.
“Psst...over here,” a voice whispers loud, if that makes any sense. A masculine growl. So deep, grating, and slathered in a sort o’ mockery. I spin around sharpish, my eyes popping out of my head. Getting my fists ready for action.
There, buried in the blackness of a room, are two orbs: bright green, luminous, floating inches above ground level. They're not just mere eyes, but bulbs. Bulging and unnatural, like someone stuffed glow-sticks into a toad’s skull!