***Alec's POV***

His wings flapped as he glided through the trees. Jace and Isabelle flanked him on either side. Like normally, there would be three dragons assigned to each patrol. A good thing too, considering Alec wasn't a fan of working with that many of the younger dragons his age. Only a few of them ever seemed to take anything seriously. It's like they don't even understand there are humans out there actively trying to murder us all.

Those humans were the hunters. The dangerous people bared to the teeth with weapons meant to kill dragons. Most of them were foolish cretins, hermits with their strange conspiracies about dragons being monsters. But dragons had never done anything to them, leaving Alec dumbfounded as to why they were so hated by the small, squishy strangers.

Sniff. Sniff.

Isabelle —the one with the best nose out of all of them— was tasting the air. A disgruntled look passed over her face, like the time Plethora had stained her beautiful wings a vomit green. Alec could always trust his sister to pick up the faintest of trails, regardless of the season.

"Smell something?"

A troubled look slips onto her face. "I smell blood. Dragon blood." She clarified after a moments pause.

"Dragon blood? Do you smell hunters too?" Jace asked.

Isabelle shook her head. "No. Whoever it was has left. Awhile ago, I believe."

A stroke of worry runs down his back like bucket of icy water dumped over his head. If the hunter was already gone then that could not be a good sign. "Then we better hurry."

Alec soared through the overgrowth, parting the branches away as he went. Isabelle and Jace followed close behind him. Their warm breath was hot against his tail. He did not have the same spines his sister had on her whippet thin tail. His was covered in tough, impenetrable scales. The scent of blood hit his nose with the force of a avalanche. He gasped at the sight of a black dragon laying on the ground, blood draining out of the lifeless corpse.

"No. We're too late." Jace breathed out.

Alec numbly nodded. The dragon here was clearly dead. Isabelle went over to inspect the corpse, her dark eyes round with sadness. Like Maryse, Isabelle had undergone training to understand all sorts of injuries and methods of healing. She would be able to find the cause of death with ease. With his own untrained eyes, Alec noted the murky brown color of this dragon. Likely a member of the Bridgestock family then. Blood pooled out of a particularly large gash in the older dragon's throat, an arrow stuck out from where a lung likely was.

"He was poisoned, and shot, not necessarily in that order. I'd have to get some tools to know exactly what did more damage. He likely choked on his own blood which shut down his vital systems."

"That's gruesome." Jace commented. "Why would anyone do such a thing?"

"Because their hunters." Alec responded idly. Upon further inspection he saw an old leather bag peeking out from underneath the corpse. Tugging it out, he saw the embroidery of a name in the bag's skin. This had been Nathan Bridgestock. Condolences would have to be sent to their family. "Hunters are nothing more than ferocious monsters. Intent on killing every dragon ever to exist."

"I wish we knew why. This endless fighting is no good for anyone." Isabelle murmured. Carefully, the red dragon stepped away from the dead body.

"Yes, I'm sure that would be useful." Jace nodded.

Alec studied his claws. Too much death has been happening lately. Regardless of how the fighting started, we need peace. "We need to take this body home."

"Should one of us wait here?" Izzy asked.

"No. This hunter may be gone but others could still be lurking around. We'll trace back a few paces to one of the other hunting groups, send one of their members to fetch the Silent Dragons. They will know what to do with the body." Slipping into his leader persona was easy enough. Jace and Isabelle agreed with him easily enough, both of them knew better than to protest against any of his commands in concerns to the dead.

"Sounds good."

They took to the sky again, wings flapping in the idle gusts of wind.