The wind roared in Rhian's ears. His back stung. Blood ran down from where the creature's talons had dug deep into his shoulders.
He felt Nia's arms gripping his legs, tighter now, as the flying beast carried them higher. Its wings beat hard, flapping wide and violent against the air, but the weight was clearly too much.
It screeched again, a shrill, piercing sound that rattled his bones. He could feel the strain in the creature's flight pattern.
It was trying to stabilize, shifting their bodies side to side, wobbling above the forest canopy. It was looking for somewhere to drop them, maybe it's nest.
Rhian could feel himself slipping in and out of focus. His breaths were sharp. Fast. The pain was becoming harder to ignore.
"Nia," he said through gritted teeth, "if we fall from here—"
"We won't," she growled, refusing to look down.
But she hadn't looked him in the eyes. She knew the risk.
