“You know I hate flying,” Judd replies as he strips off his cloak and hangs it on the peg, beside the fire where the rest of our cloaks are already hanging. “Plus, we went right through the damn storm. That rain turned to sleet, and that sleet turned to hail. Ever been pummeled by hail while you’re trying to stay on a frozen saddle with a mender who hates heights?” he asks as he yanks off his boots. “Not recently, no.” He gives another hair shake. “Well, it’s hard.” Hojat frowns. “It was my first time on a timberwing, Captain Judd,” he says, shuddering slightly as he too takes off his wet
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