Something... Inspires you.

Just as your about bust a fat load into Cyra's mouth, you catch something flying towards at high speeds. You moan as you finished, making Cyra's cheeks bulge, and bring your hand down to see what exactly was thrown at you. A scroll... And it the markings of draconic language. Your eyes instantly narrowed and you opened it to reveal a holographic message.

The Knucker. You heard of her and, as a dragon, immediately disliked her. Dragons suffer no equal and monsters talked of The Knucker as if she was your equal, and few even better, alongside another select few dragons... Like that fat bitch, Fafnir.

Fat bitch.

"Hello, Smaugy~!" The image showed the Knucker resting in her lake, a nice side angle that showed off her grand tits, and servants around her, grooming her deep blue scales, shining her horns, and brushing her hair, "I wanted to message you to let you know that I've found out our territories are... A little close for my comfort. So, in a show of good spirit, I'd thought I'd message you to let you know that I will give you some time to relocate before I do some expansion and will allow you to leave with your tail between your legs along with your micro-dick," for emphasis, she removed something under the water and out splashed her absolute unit of a long shlong. She brought it close with one hand and gave it a quick kiss on the head, "If you don't, I'll be **** to make you, your servants, and your little worthless girls **** on this. I'd doubt you and your little hovel could handle my army. Anyway love, that's all for now. Goodbye, Smaugy~!" And the message finished with her blowing a kiss to the camera.

What The Knucker had done was a pure power and rich bitch move among dragons. Something you did to another dragon when you either knew they were weaker than you or simply believed so. And she did that to you.

The moment the message finished, all of your daughters were in the room, Winter and Crystal having somehow felt the rage from elsewhere, and all of there eyes were on you.

Your face was a stone stature of pure, quiet, smoldering rage, and your first action was breaking the scroll in your claws. Slowly, you turned to your daughters, who couldn't help but flinch out of fear and possible righteous arousal, and hissed out, "Vendetta."

The one word all draconic lifeforms heard as the declaration of war.