Dragons hate their damp cold roots, as worms wallowing in muck and boring in the dirt. They try to soar and spit heat and fire to show nature and themselves that they are beyond their shameful past. But breathing fire is a painful process and flight is a tiring excersize.
A dragon is truely in their element in the wet and the earth. Being in a burrow deep beneath rock and soil or submerged in brown muggy waters us when a worm is truely one with themself and where they want to be. Comforted in darkness and loneliness, trash piled in their lair as home decor. The grand displays and ego in their waking hours is motivated heavily by the need of an unwakeful sleep when they return to their lair, to to forget about their fear and flaws and rest soundly.