and “beautiful” and “regal.” Maybe even “graceful” and “elegant” might come to mind. Sadly this was not the case for Trinity as she desperately tried to hang on to Emmy’s neck as the dragon took flight. Emmy might have grown a lot since she’d hatched the size of a baby bird—but she still wasn’t near the size of something ride-able, like, say, a horse. She had no space between her wings and neck for Trin to wrap her legs around, and so she was forced to kick them out behind her and let them dangle in thin air, her belly chafing painfully against the dragon’s back as together they tumbled through the skies. The phrase “flying by the seat of your pants” might have come to mind, if anything had been able to come to Trinity’s mind beyond the fact that she was quite possibly about to die. “Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down,” she chanted to herself as her arm muscles burned in protest.
