Approaching the dragon she noticed it's fear and slowly gave pause.  Watching as it dropped down and did what was perhaps the most foolish decision it could hope to make.  Seeing it land on the ground with the grace of a cat then pounce with the speed of a tiger she was a bit dumbstruck as to what was going on.  First the sense of fire, then the sight of it's movement. She was wondering what the creature was, but the answer did not matter as Cyrus offered so much as a whimper, let alone the cry from the dragon's claw tearing through armor and flesh alike.  Atticus could mutter his incantations all he wanted, the dragon's child's life was already forfeit.  The moment it had come to land on Cyrus a different roar could be heard before it were dragged off of Cyrus by force.<br/><br/>In an instant Wiflor had knocked the creature on it's back, it's tail meekly striking at her back as she held to both it's arms, tearing both off in a swift motion.  It was then that the dragon child thought to cry out and breath it's fire only to have it's own arms shoved down it's open maw to stunt the attempted flame.   Defenseless, weakened, Wiflor would grab it's neck and hold it's head down as the other hand struck it's chest with pure force, ultimately crushing the heart within and basking it's insides with it's own flame.  With haste she'd hop back before the fire that was swallowing up the quickly dying dragon could hope to hurt her.<br/><br/>Wiflor's eyes were darkened at this moment as she stepped near Cyrus, kneeling down near him and looking at the open wounds but without signs of sorrow.  She would not bring harm to Cyrus but right now she was not in the best of minds.  The last time with the incidents of the were wolves she had slowly lost her mind for the thin veil that tempted her by spirit.  Here was no better for even a weakened veil was a threat.  A fully torn one could easily overtake her mind as she loomed over Cyrus.  It was then the etching of other claws would sound not far from them.<br/><br/>Rising she would see several of the children coming to find the reason for one of their own's cry and quickly encroaching on their position.  Hearing this Wiflor's eyes would only darken further, slowly rising to her feet and turning to see the many of them with a low growl holding to her.  Enough of a growl to stop them in their tracks with awareness of an equivalent threat to their lives.  So far as they knew.  Wiflor had just eaten so equal would be an insult to the truth of the situation.  Had she kept going without then they truly would of been in some sense of danger.  Right now the only real danger is the anger developing in Wiflor's mind from the whispering.  The horrible whispering that was leading her slightly astray from common thought.