This dragon with the fiery mane, by the name of Jerrarekoth, saw movement in the trees and panicked.  He bolted with all his energy, with blurry vision and weak limbs he didn't make it very far.  He tripped only a short distance from where he had been before.  He landed, hitting the ground hard with his shoulder first and then his head snapped down afterward. He began to gag as if he were going to vomit again, but had nothing left in his stomach, not even stomach acids. He shook in fear and tried to protect his neck where a large jaw shaped scar wrapped around it.  The tender spot stung with great pain from the fall and it began to freeze in the snow, for it was the only spot that had been cleared of scales.  Jerrarekoth, having considered himself dead by now, began to cry.  Humans would not hesitate to kill him and he only hoped it wouldn't hurt to much. But having seen humans up close, they seem to enjoy watching others hurt.