There are dragons that guard walls, and dragons that become them.

This Snap Dragon is born of Burgh Castle, a Roman shore fort now slowly sinking into the marsh. Its towering flint walls once watched a coastline that no longer exists. Stone by stone, the fortress has slumped into the soil, leaving jagged edges and ancient echoes. Built to hold the edge of an empire, its walls have spent centuries yielding to rain, frost, salt, and open skies. Even the strongest stone is not spared by time.

The Burgh Flint Snap carries that same slow surrender. When the Romans arrived, it watched as a fortress rose around it, until it too became part of the walls. Now its hide bears the shape of erosion—rough, uneven, and exposed, like a relic left beneath the open sky. Flint breaks through worn pale stone, streaked with red brick, each ridge marking another season endured. It does not hide its fractures. It wears its survival openly.

Burgh is drawn to places where history has softened: roads ending in reeds, broken walls resting at their own feet, and moss settling into ancient mortar. It reminds the Guild that not everything worth preserving remains whole.

At dusk, soft clicking can sometimes be heard among the ruins, like flint striking flint. The sound is often followed by the faint scent of saltwater lapping against porous stone. The Guild believes these whispers are Burgh calling to its kin, hidden deep within the walls.

To adopt Burgh is to walk with the ruins—to carry the weight of age without being held by it.

The walls may sink. The stone may break.

Still, Burgh stands.