As she performs her duties and convenes with the other ambassadors every day, Bastet cannot stop thinking about how much she hates the cold. She hates how it hurts her eyes sometimes just looking at the snow. She hates how it feels in her nose breathing when the air itself is almost frozen. She hates getting hit with snowballs. She even hates the brief moments when it melts, and turns solid ground into filthy slush.

It's everything her old clan said it would be to her, and that's why she can't leave. She can't prove them right. They laughed at her for even wanting to become an ambassador in the first place, and only laughed harder when the only clan that responded to her letters was an Ice clan. The sound ricocheted around in her head the entire flight over.

She's sure the few other Fire dragons in this clan are laughing at her too. The cold has a way of dampening even the brightest flame, but that doesn't mean it isn't there. That doesn't mean they aren't laughing at her, when she can't see them.

Right?