Wind whistles past your ears as they fly through the clouds.

It’s a noise you’re familiar with when going on flights. It’s a rush of air and the slight smell of smoke, a background music to the scenery of the world high up above. You tries to only focus on the breeze flowing through, your thoughts too scattered to pick through right now.

The flight has turned into something peaceful and quiet. You continues to listen to the wind, lifting your chin and feeling it brush your hair back, drag against your skin. You look up towards nothing in particular, a frown pulling at your lips as the thoughts in your skull continue to plague you.

You and Wilbur had gotten into a fight, you’d wanted to go after the fuckers who’d been rounding up the dragons and selling them like spectacles to the highest bidder.

But Wilbur, of course, thinks that’s a poor course of action. Wilbur, of course, refuses to let you swing back.

You knew you flew off fast enough that not Wilbur, or Tommy can follow you. So you hope your family takes the fucking hint you want be left alone.