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Lesser Sirrush — Description

The desperation of the dragons led to many creations and a myriad of failures. Anything to keep the Eitr flowing and burning, anything to keep their age from ending. But it was all for naught, as Ichor took the throne and the world moved on without them. Now all that remains of them in the public eye after the betrayal is their Lessers, now seen as a mockery of an age that once was. Once lords, now pests and mindless beasts to be chased from pastures and hunted. If there is dignity to be found in death, the dragons refused to accept it, and their vain struggle against fate led to these sad echoes left behind.
The Lesser Sirrush is one of these failed kin, a descendant unable to inherit the lost throne. They are nimble creatures, making up for their lack of wings with graceful legs and impressive speed. They tear across the landscape in search of food, often hunting in pairs. Their grace and agility allows them to chase down prey, and then sharp talons finish the job. The Lesser Sirrush does retain some of the Primal Fire of Eitr, but the sad flames that flash from its jaws are more for display and intimidation. The only time they burn their prey is when they are trapped in their jaws, roasting them alive. Their bronze colored scales that come with age rarely go far before they peter out, indicating how diluted their Eitr is compared to the true dragons. Perhaps this was lost when their wings were taken as well.
Though trapped upon the earth, unable to reach the heavens where their ancestors once soared, the Sirrush makes do with its simple life. Even the most hateful of dragonkind must admit the speed and grace of this species. Armaments and crests still boast their image from time to time, finding something admirable in their relentless pursuit of prey and deadly agility. But this respect usually ends when they raid pastures and attack caravans. Yet, it begs the question of what their ancestors think of them in this state. The dragons of old are doomed to their curse, their bodies growing stiff and unwieldy as time and past sin grow. What must they think when they see the mindless children running about without a care in the world? Know that they are free to move and dance with the energy and blissful ignorance of youth? They have no throne to inherit, no curse to carry upon their backs. The Sirrush and other Lessers are free to live without all these burdens, with not even thought to plague them. Perhaps it is no wonder the dragons abandoned them...
Trying to post these as fast as possible before I inevitably lose steam and thus fail to get everything done in the month of Smaugust.