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Narlesha the Dragonslayer, Chapter 10.

Finally it was over. It seemed to have lasted a lifetime, but in truth the wound was so grievous that death came mercifully quick to the great dragon. Giving a last whimper, Vigoyorr sagged down to the ground. The fire went out of his eyes, and his tongue lolled from his mouth. Narlesha was still too stunned to move. She watched for a good while, but the dragon’s eyes remained dull and dead. At last, she mustered her courage and gingerly stepped up to the carcass. Still invisible, she kicked one of the great forepaws. There was no reaction. Encouraged, she moved in, grabbed the hilt of the sword and pulled it from the wound; more of the putrid blood and gore oozed out.

She removed her helmet and returned to visibility. For a moment she gazed on the carcass … she could not prevent herself from feeling a pang of pity for the great dragon. As dragons go, he was a miserable specimen … stupid, petty, and irredeemably wicked. Yet, for all that, he was still a dragon, and there was a tragic magnificence to his motionless corpse. At that moment she felt greatly saddened at the shameful end he came to, and deplored her own part in it. And yet, it was a necessary task, one she had pledged herself to.

Description
Narlesha the Dragonslayer, Chapter 10.

Finally it was over. It seemed to have lasted a lifetime, but in truth the wound was so grievous that death came mercifully quick to the great dragon. Giving a last whimper, Vigoyorr sagged down to the ground. The fire went out of his eyes, and his tongue lolled from his mouth. Narlesha was still too stunned to move. She watched for a good while, but the dragon’s eyes remained dull and dead. At last, she mustered her courage and gingerly stepped up to the carcass. Still invisible, she kicked one of the great forepaws. There was no reaction. Encouraged, she moved in, grabbed the hilt of the sword and pulled it from the wound; more of the putrid blood and gore oozed out.

She removed her helmet and returned to visibility. For a moment she gazed on the carcass … she could not prevent herself from feeling a pang of pity for the great dragon. As dragons go, he was a miserable specimen … stupid, petty, and irredeemably wicked. Yet, for all that, he was still a dragon, and there was a tragic magnificence to his motionless corpse. At that moment she felt greatly saddened at the shameful end he came to, and deplored her own part in it. And yet, it was a necessary task, one she had pledged herself to.