Traversing the storm

Rain fell, the droplets slowly dripping through the thick foliage to splash against the dirt.
Leaving the safety of our mostly dry camp, I trudged through the growing muck.
"Softly, Xolani. Don't drag your wings." My father called, his own wings held regally aloft. Throat burning, I straightened and urged my wings higher. Stumbling a little under the full weight of my wings, I focused on my father's wings.
His weren't too large for his frame. Their wiry might wasn't limited to the air. Father's wings were beautiful.
Father stopped at the edge of the forest. Stopping beside him, I glanced up at him. His dark eyes scanned the open area before us, searching both the ground and sky. He took a slow, deep breath, then released it.
"What do you sense?" He asked, his gaze flickering to meet mine.
Turning my head, I looked out at the land. There were hills in the distance. Short, dense brush covered the ground outside the forest, with a thin, muddy road cutting a line through the brush and heading toward the nearest hill. The sky was a dark, angry gray for as far as I could see. The pounding torrent of rain made it difficult to hear anything, but from what I could see, nothing was out in the storm.
There was a flash of lightning, followed by the roar of thunder. In those brief moments, I saw them.
"There are some sylphs frolicking in the storm, but I don't see anything else."
Father nodded. "And where would a dragon be during a storm like this?"
"Grounded. Unless it was of the gray bloodline. But grays prefer the chill of a northern storm. They don't usually come south this time of year." I answered. Father smiled, revealing sharp fangs.
"Correct. Come." Turning, he walked out into the open.
I hesitated for only a moment. Leaving the shelter of the trees, I stumbled as he wind whipped at my wings. The large, cumbersome things hurt as I fought to keep the wind from carrying me off. Digging my claws into the waterlogged earth, I caught sight of my father.
The rain pelting his purple scales didn't seem to bother him. His wings were neatly tucked against his back. Managing to make my way to where he stood, I looked up at him and tried to control my shivering.
"You're doing well, Xolani. Now it is time for you to learn how to maneuver through a storm. This skill could prove beneficial should you need to flee your larger kin." Lifting a hand, father pointed to a lone stone jutting from among the brush. "Fly for as long as you can, then land there."
Staring the stone, I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat. Tensing, I leaped into the air and opened my wings.
The wind twisted around me. Tossed about and blinded by the water lashing against my face, my chest tightened with a burning pang. Focusing on the burning, I forced my wings to shift. Their protests hurt. Positioning them, I tried to use the wild wind. It carried me higher.
With the storm raging all around me, I could scarcely believe that anyone would try to fly through this. Far too soon, I felt myself weakening. Diving back down to the chosen stone seemed impossible.
Until cool hands grasped my arms.
Father pulled me along with him, traversing the storm with a skill I did not possess.
Even after my feet hit the ground, my father held on to me.
As we made our way back to the security of the forest, I thought of how it was possible to fly during a storm. One day, I would have the skill to fly in one.
Like my father.