Saul

The sun glints off Saul’s iridescent blue scales as he crouches atop the rusted clocktower, tail coiled tight. Below, Emberfall hums—steam vents hiss, sky-trams glide, and a stray firefly zips past his pink, close-set eyes. He grins, fangs catching light, fingers tracing the warm crack in the bell—just wide enough. “Bet I can sneeze it open before the curfew siren wails.”