She’s of an enemy tribe, but she’s fearless in her saddle, trusting her life so easily to the monstrous beasts that have so long governed his.
She caught the shout for help a moment after her dragon did – a distorted echo between the crags jutting out of the storm-grey waters.
Leaning down, Levy ran her palm across the ridge along Whirlwind’s neck. “Can you tell where it’s coming from?”
The low rumble rolled up along its belly, and she nodded. “Okay, let’s go low. It’s going to be hard to see with the mist so thick–”
A gurgle of protest cut her off, and she laughed. “Okay, okay – I’m sure it’s no challenge. But you don’t have to get all testy – remember what happened last time we went flying here?” Her answer was a grunt, and she patted a scaled belly. “Yeah, I thought so. I’ll keep an extra eye out.”
Tucking her legs closer, she leaned down into her saddle, pressing flat against her dragon’s back as it circled between the rocks rising out of the water. With the morning mist curling thick around the crags, her vision was a world of grey, but the voice reached her over the wind – a man’s, calling for help.