"Why?" She takes another bite of ice cream, and gestures with her spoon towards a nearby knot of young trainers. "They're the average age for cadets, and the matches are non-lethal. No one even gets hurt that badly. Breeze got knocked out once, and she was fine after a night's sleep."

The little unicorn blows out a snuffling breath, and manages to look almost petulant at the reminder of her defeat - or at least as petulant as a pastel unicorn with a smudge of chocolate ice cream on its nose can.