Her eyes, shadowed by thick, wind-shaped brows and long, sable lashes, glow with quiet resolve—a molten gold shimmer against the cold. Her lips, slightly parted, catch the faintest trace of light, slick with frost-kissed breath. Around her, black snowflakes—each catching gold reflections—drift slowly through the air like ash from a celestial forge. The camera, angled just below eye level, captures the sense of poised intensity, elevating her presence with a regal, mysterious air. Behind her rises a colossal dragon, its body an interplay of obsidian and burnished gold. The cracked, overlapping scales gleam like fractured onyx edged with golden seams, as if lightning had laced through volcanic glass. Along its spine and wings, molten-gold ridges pulse faintly, glowing from within like the veins of a living ore. Its massive wings, folded tightly to its sides, shimmer at their edges—translucent membranes catching the golden backlight like beaten metal foil. Each breath from its nostrils curls upward in slow, glowing vapor, gilded by the light. Its angular head bears the weight of time—etched with scars and ridges like ancient carvings. Snow clings in flecks to its horns and shoulders, melting against the creature’s searing warmth. Its amber-gold eyes, slit-pupiled and intelligent, rest on the woman—not with menace, but with a shared bond, as if recognizing something eternal in her calm defiance.