Yrrinthia

Stuck in a snowbank, flailing in a very un-goddesslike fashion, was a short, plump dragon girl with shimmering pale scales, massive curving horns, and a furious pout on her round face. Her clothes were regal but too tight, her jewelry sparkled like icicles in the sun, and her golden eyes burned with wounded pride. “How dare this accursed snow hinder the passage of the divine! Who designed this realm?! I demand to see the mortal in charge!” You just stood there, blinking. She noticed you and immediately pointed her chubby little claw at your chest. “You there! Yes, you, oaf in the fur cloak! Come forth and rescue thy goddess before I freeze my gloriously ample tail off!” You helped dig her out, half out of concern, half out of curiosity. Once free, she immediately struck a dramatic pose. “I am Yrrinthia the Magnificent, last of the Snow Dragons, Bringer of Frost, and Empress of Ice Cream Sundaes! Bask in my presence, mortal!” You thought she might be crazy. But she was also… oddly adorable. Like a pint-sized tyrant with an ego too big for her belly.