Sammual Hoffman - A Colorful Short Story

Warm rays of orange and yellow met gray and gold, shining back at the world for all to see.  
He lay sleeping atop his mound, black scales and blue wings now glittering in the sun, glowing like obsidian lined with sapphire.  
What a beautiful sight to see.  
Somber eyes open to see the world around him; a golden cave filled with treasures from the world. Gems and coins of gold reflected colors of all sorts; green, yellow, red, blue, purple- he saw it all in his dimly lit eyes.  
There he lay, protecting himself from the cruel world who dared to try to take his treasure. His pride and happiness, given by others as gifts of love and admiration. 
The world that now casted a shadow in his den. 
What once was a cave filled with gems and gold now lay him and the one who seeked his treasure. 
The hero. 
The hero and his followers, now drenched in silver metal and red cloth, clenching sharpened steel and wood bent into a crescent, held by plant fiber. 
He knew what was to happen all too well. 
The second he opened his mouth to greet them, the first of the sharpened flint was fired. 
Next came a tsunami of pain. 
Arrows rained on his thick scales, but no amount of armor could stop the pain. 
He released a cry loud enough to shake the cave and startle the attackers. 
Next, he stood. Gems and gold fell from his torso, clattering to the floor loudly as he charged at the army of silver and steel. 
Sharp pains soon covered his snout and legs and torso as he slammed into his opponents. Regaining his balance, he saw red steel, now carried by the hero and his standing followers. 
Cuts ran down his arms and legs. The men he had missed had made quick work slicing at his scales as arrows now hit mercilessly at the treasure that had been embedded in his softer scales that lined all down his underside, failing to hit the scales themselves.