"I bite you as hard as I could!" Matilda cried, but immediately held her cheek, her right fang had cracked from how much force she applied, yet Arad's neck didn't even get a scratch.
"Here, this should help." Arad pulled a large healing potion out of nowhere, "Be careful next time. My skin might look soft and smooth, but I'm in fact harder than most weapons." Steel swords can't scratch Arad's scales, hitting him felt like punching a steel statue.
"Put me down first." Matilda gasped as she lunged away from him, still holding her cheek, "If my bite can't scratch you, what could harm you then?"
"A lot of things it seems. I do face a lot of people who can send me to the grave." He smiled, throwing the potion to her.
At that moment, Matilda remembered that Arad had spent a few weeks recovering from a fatal injury. In her head, countless images started spinning, what kind of horror is capable of doing that to Arad? She couldn't even imagine it properly.
The poor lion, doesn't know what he's dealing with.