The plume of smoke could be seen from the vantage point of Clara. The screams from Malcolm and the others still rang in her ears. One group less, a slighter more significant chance to be the one to kill the dragon.  A lump got stuck in her just by thinking the thought.  There is a risk of dying in this hunt, every hunt for a dragon is more deadly than anything else. Nonetheless, it was a terrible way of going.  She was a way to far away to be any help. If she ran, she might be able to, but no, it was too dangerous. Not only because of the dragon. Her palms stung by the thoughts of all those burns.<br/><br/>"May you all catch your pray on the evergreen marches"  as the pray left Clara's lips in a whisper she heard some movement in the bushes belove her. She had climbed up in one of the enormous trees that the forest had to offer to see better as she heard the roar of the dragon. From her vantage point, she had a better view of what happened than most.  As she pushed her back up to the trunk of the tree, trying to hide from the drake that twists its way along the ground. A drake was an unusual creature, a dragon only in very sparse familiar relations. It had four legs but moved more like a snake.  It had no idea that Clara was there, it seemed to be interested the smell of smoke and burned flesh that even reached as far out as this.<br/><br/>That is why it did not hear when Clara drew one of the swords or when she let herself slide down to a sitting position on the branch. It did listen to it when she made herself go, but then it was too late. A sharp hiss and some weak fighting later Clara had a new kill under her belt. It would give a fair price later, but she couldn't exactly take it with her as she went after the dragon. Now that it had shown itself to be as vicious as any other she knew that she had to be more careful than before. Therefore, and because it was way to heavy for her, it meant that she could not take it with her. It took her a few minutes to hide the drake in the trees. Tying one of her ropes around the beast, getting it over a few branches and using all of her strength to pull it up. In the end, she had to stop. She wasn't satisfied with the hiding place, but she had to move, and her arm hurt from where the drake got her with its claws.  The dragon still roaring and she was sure other people had begun to get closer to the pyre.  She might be the last one there, but that might be better than being the first ones. So she began to move again.<br/><br/>Throughout the next few days, the hunters grew more careful but still hunted the dragon. People got burned and killed by more than just the mighty dragon, but they got more and more fucked each passing day.  Three days had gone by, and other than the actual wound from the drake Clara had nothing. Every time she came close to the real thing someone got killed. Someone she couldn't help.