The Skeleton Dragon loomed over Zorvax, its formidable frame casting an imposing shadow. With a gaping maw, it unleashed a roar so powerful it seemed to shake the very ground of the Death Land. The sound reverberated off the skeletal remains and barren rocks, amplifying its fearsome cry.
Zorvax, standing calmly in the face of this monstrous display, wore a smug smirk. Unintimidated, he quipped with a tone dripping with sarcasm, "Impressive show, but really, your breath is something else! Ever heard of a mint?"
The Skeleton Dragon, though lacking the ability to understand the nuances of Zorvax's mockery, perceived the defiance in his posture. It responded with an even more thunderous roar, a visceral sound that cut through the air like a physical force.
Zorvax chuckled at the creature's response, stepping back gracefully with an air of amusement. "Touchy, aren't we? I suppose humor is lost on the undead," he mused, speaking more to himself than to the dragon.