Ghost's PoV
--------
Wolf trotted beside me as we made our way to roll call. Strange looks made their way towards us, whispers erupted, and dragonets parted like ice breaking before us.

"Hey, losers!" Kodiak sneered from somewhere in the crowd. I began to shake, instinctively cringing, but Wolf gave me a warning look.

"Don't," he advised. I nodded slightly as we continued walking, my legs still trembling. We found the Seventh Circle and sat in our spots. The other dragonets shuffled away from us, glares and disgusted looks finding their way to us. You know, the usual.

"Alright. Freeze, Chill, Beluga, Permafrost, Seal, Frostbite, Bear, and Wolf are all here. You--" a talon was pointed at me, yet again, "--I can't say I'm excited to see you're still alive. I can say, however, I'm extremely disappointed that you're still living." I sighed. Why does everyone want me dead?

If they really hate me that much, why can't they just kill me already? Kodiak and them have had multiple chances to kill me if they wanted. So why settle for bruised and badly battered?

.....because they want to see me suffer....

"Hey, Ghost! Are you all right?" Wolf's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I shook my head slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine." Wolf looked at me, a funny look on his face, but let it drop. I sighed in relief, closing my eyes slightly.

"You there!" An angry tone jolted me upright. "You're trying to slack off!" 'Coach' barked. No dragon knew her real name, at least, no one that I knew did. However, there were rumors that she was Jökull's sister. I wouldn't be surprised if she were, honestly.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Wolf nudged me, urging me to shut my mouth before I got an even worse punishment.

"Take ten laps running, ten flying!" I dragged my gaze to the floor. If I dared protest or even send her a look, it'd probably be doubled. And double that equals no fun.

So I trudged off, ignoring the snickers and laughs from behind as I slowly walked to the track and began my twenty laps.

--------

After my forty wonderful laps, roll call ended and I endured my usual torture. I can't go a day without it, it seems.

Kodiak and his posse descended on me like a pack of wolves. "Hey there, walrus fat," sneered Narwhal, seemingly disgusted at the sight of me. And I didn't blame her.

I mean, if I had to see my disgustingly ugly snout every day, I'd make fun of it too. It's so horrible to look at I guess you can't help but laugh at it.

I glanced at Wolf, who glared at them. "Leave him alone!" he spat.

Wolverine narrowed his eyes, which darkened dangerously. "And why should we?" he scowled, a frown on his snout.

"Because I told you so!" demanded Wolf angrily, tail twitching. I swallowed nervously, taking a step back.

Ox merely laughed harshly. He lashed Wolf with his tail, smirking as my friend winced. "You don't tell us what to do. And you know what?" he leaned down to whisper in Wolf's ear. "You're a poor excuse of an IceWing."

I got beaten up within an inch of death--again--which meant I bled blue onto the ice and snow, and I have a whole bunch of bumps and bruises that Wolf won't let me complain about. But hey, at least he's bleeding and black and blue right along with me.

Finally, we caught our breath and managed to stop the bleeding. We were still sore, but functional. Barely.

So we dragged ourselves out of there. Just outside Kodiak's range is an abandoned den; polar bear or wolf, I'm not sure. That's our bunker, if you will. A place where no one can get to us.

I'm actually pretty surprised that no dragon has found it yet, considering that there's trails of blood and drag marks leading to it.

Wolf's mantra is this: "You can't let them get to you. Be tough and don't let them know." He told me that back in the den. Which is why he won't let me complain about all the pain, the hurt I endure.

Or so he says. He's not the hybrid. At least he's 'pure' like the rest of the IceWings.

But he's the best thing I've got. So everyday after our daily beating we go together and patch ourselves up, maybe getting a bite to eat after. Today was no different. We managed to find a lone fox sniffing around in the snow between the pines and evergreens.

I crept up on one side, and Wolf went on the other. The wind was taking his scent towards the fox, so it bolted towards me. I'm camouflaged in the snow (not really; my black scales stick out like a polar bear in the desert), and I jumped up when it came near and grabbed its neck in my jaws. It broke with a muffled snap.

Wolf trotted over, and we dug in. Not a terrible catch, but certainly not the most filling. But for a pair of Seventh Circle dragonets, it's the best we could afford.

--------

I looked at Wolf as we lay in the den, finishing off the fox. "Wolf?" I asked, licking blood off of my teeth and talons, pausing to swipe my tongue around my snout. "Why are you in the Seventh Circle? I remember you saying something about you not being able to go up in the ranks. Surely you can't be that terrible?"

Wolf shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. "It's a long story." He looked down at his half of the fox, at least, what was left of it--which wasn't much at all, mostly a small pile of bones.

I smiled slightly at him, looking into his eyes. I wanted him to know how serious I was about this. I said three simple words, all of which were true, perhaps a little bit too much. But for then, it worked.

"We've got time."