Anakri was correct about one thing.  In the air, it is cold.  It’s not just the temperature, it’s the wind.  Frost starts forming on Cirostis’s beard, and Tawna shivers.

But the ground drops away beneath them.  The Dragon turns east, flying over forest, brown where the leaves have been shed, dark green where the land is covered in conifers.

Absecon does not speak to anyone.  To give any impression other than “exiling” some annoying Humans, is just wrong, in Dragon terms.  Nor does the Dragon look around to see where Petra and Tugdual are.  Absecon seems to have decided that they choose to fly along, they may.  If not, the Dragon gives no sign of caring.

Absecon had very generously given time to prepare, and Haakon had taken that time, selecting first his finest furs to keep him and his bride warm (even though said bride planned to travel in his backback. With weapons, fur and what fabric he could carry, he stood ready to be hoisted aloft by the dragon and exiled to Mogiantacum.

When Tawna shivers, he wraps the furs closer, letting his body heat warm her in the backpack.  "Deutschland", he whispers experimentally, "Perhaps that is the name of the plague we must release."

The cold, at least, was not a concern for Petra.

Warded by the power of the Gods, the temperature was comfortable.

However, it was the only that could be called so.

As the wind whipped and hurtled about her, driven up and forth by Hermod's mighty pinions, she did her best not to look down. The whole thing was just more manageable if she didn't do so.  She'd deduced that right away.

She trusted to Hermod to know what distance to keep between them and the dragon.  She did not want to fall behind, but staying too close seemed unwise.  Just in case of any unexpected or spontaneous maneuvers.

Noting Tugdual not far away, she wondered if flying was all old hat (or, old bear skin) for him, now.  Or, more likely, if he inherited the chosen shape's instincts, which would make the whole thing a damn sight easier.

As for herself...doing this would be an acquired taste.  So she kept telling herself, at least.