Do you think that all dragons would eat you if they got the chance? Not this one. He'd rather have tea and chat, but how will a social visit fit with the hero's plans?
 

     “I don’t believe in prophecies,” said the Dragon.

     The Hero, taken aback by the serpent’s response to his challenge of untimely death and unavoidable denouement, could only stare at the thing, his enchanted blade poised to strike.

     “In fact,” continued the red-hued wyrm, “I think prophecies are over-rated, shamanistic drivel about times and events that meant little to whichever prophet or wizard dredged it up in the first place.”

     The Dragon paused, adjusting the spectacles clinging to its knobby nose.

     “Furthermore,” it said, “I think it is overly ambitious and completely ludicrous that someone would take to heart the abstract ruminations of long dead scholars and sages who were probably socially inept recluses and libidinous defects in the first place.  I mean, really, I wouldn’t take the opinion of someone like that as solemn truth? Would you?  Oh…well, obviously you did.  You’re here now.”