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Summary
“Why?” Madara replies, voice calm even as he feels his heartbeat speed up and the muscles in his legs tense. “Is there danger here?”
Something shimmers upon the altar, a pale trick of the light as the incense’s smoke clouds about the surface and then billows upward. In its midst he can just make out the shape of a man seated lazily on its surface, legs crossed beneath him.
“Danger?” The voice rumbles again and Madara feels his breath catch as the incense gives way and the full view of the shrine’s occupant comes into focus.
“Danger,” Madara repeats. “Or a dragon.”
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It's dangerous to come before a dragon without an offering.