"So, what brings you in today?"

The dragon keeps its ponderous tail from anything as undignified as a thrash. Really, it hardly shows any emotion at all. There's no way this mere mortal will tell how naked and vulnerable he feels. It's silly, really, for one of the most powerful and dangerous creatures on the planet to feel vulnerable. It's oxymoronic for someone normally naked to feel more naked in a gown.

Still, "My hips hurt when I wake up. And my back. My scales feel brittle. My fire...isn't as hot as it should be." I'm dying. I feel naked and afraid because I'm dying and I need this mortal.

The doctor is, of course, oblivious. Or at least has enough bedside manner to act oblivious as he flips through the charts.

"And how long has this been going on?"

"It's been worse the last few centuries. Before that? Uh, maybe a few thousand years. Not more than four thousand at the outside."

"I see. And how large is your hoard?"

A growl and bit of smoke, "What exactly do you want with my hoard?"

"I assure you that my interest is purely medical."

"Fine. My hoard is about a million gold in total."

"Well, that's certainly enough for a dragon of your size. Do you have sufficient magic items?"

"Yes. Of course."

The doctor nods, "Do you keep your magical items with you while you sleep, or do you perhaps have a separate vault?"

That earns a glare "I have my Ring Of Sustenance on me while I sleep. The rest is in the bank where it's VERY secure."

Flip flip, mark something on the chart.

"I see. Are there any other parts of your hoard that you're keeping with a bank?"

"All of my hoard is at the bank, where it can earn interest."

For the first time, the doctor is visibly shocked, "Whatever are you sleeping on then?"

"A bed. It's much more comfortable than a pile of metal."

...

"And it doesn't catch fire?"

"It's made of fireproof cloth and timber."

"Magical?"

"No."

"I see." Is the flipping and the notes to buy time? "May I see your teeth?"

"Sure." Head down, mouth open. Teeth like swords bared.