...yelling doesn't make a thing any more possible.

Been having a fight with your blankets, Septimus?" A familiar voice echoed down the chimney. "Looks like you lost," the voice continued with a chuckle. "Not wise to take on a pair of blankets, lad. One, maybe, but two blankets always gang up on you. Vicious things, blankets.

The dragon reared her head, breathing in the storm and loving every minute of it. It was the start of a voyage, and a storm at the beginning of a voyage was always a good omen.

Things have a habit of working out, you know. Eventually.

reading

Blue to get ready
Green to go
Yellow to guide you through the snow
Orange to warn you that over you’ll go
Then red will be the final glow
Now seek the black, there’s no going back.