“Hah, that’s if Grandpa Gruff hadn’t thrown everyone out already.” Gilda took in a deep breath of the cool night air, holding it inside before letting it out, the steam quickly curling and disappearing behind her as the group continued to fly around Cloudsdale. “But it’s still our tradition, as messed up as it can be. I mean, it’s the one time a year I can actually talk back to Grandpa Gruff.”