That wasn’t the goal

The wind roared in my ears as I flew over the mountain peaks, holding Rhiannon by the back of her shirt like a particularly disobedient kitten.

She flailed in my grasp, her little dragon Ember circling us in the air, occasionally letting out amused screeches that sounded like laughter.

"You could at least let me fly with Ember help!" Rhiannon shouted, her arms crossing indignantly despite dangling mid-air.

"Not a chance," I called back. "After the way you stumbled through Leora's jogging session, I'm surprised you can even stand. You think I'm trusting you to keep yourself in the air?"

She grumbled something under her breath, probably about how much she hated me, but I wasn't listening. My focus was on the snow-dusted clearing below, where I'd set up her next round of training. This was going to be one for the books.