many people were only too happy to do. Leading the way were the older cadets, who galloped past Draco at the first opportunity. Their frequent glances over their shoulders betrayed that they were hoping for a race with Fen, but the dragon didn’t feel confident enough in the saddle to go along with it. He merely smiled and waved, appreciating the provocation.
He reached the stables at a decent pace, although the number of people who overtook him was by no means small. The mage, however, found some pleasure in this, being able to observe all manner of mounts. For the most part, these were various breeds of horses or, though they were rather reluctant to approach the bess, wolvens, but there were also a few more interesting ones. He remembered best the majestic bull belonging to Karsun Doe and the orvang, which reminded him of a giant monitor lizard, though it was certainly faster, and riding on its back didn’t feel quite so rocky.
Stablehands were waiting at the entrance to the stables. It seemed that the arriving cadets were heading towards specific individuals, and after handing over the reins, they briskly walked away, leaving their mounts in the care of the professionals. Not knowing whom to approach, he chose the person who looked the least busy at that moment. All he had to do was give bess a gentle squeeze on the flanks, and Fen immediately set off in the right direction.
‘Draco Ignis?’ came a voice from somewhere to the side. The dragon pulled on the reins and looked around, searching for the source of the voice. Right next to Fenrir stood a petite halfling with a cascade of chestnut curls and a pleasant smile on her freckled face. ‘I’m Rosa Starwood, and I’ll be looking after your bess, sir,’ she announced, holding out her hand for the reins. Fen merely snorted and turned his head away.
‘I’m sorry about him.’ The reptile jumped down from the mount’s back and gave him a light nudge. ‘Behave yourself.’ He almost hissed through clenched teeth, but the bess’s only
