Veraxitoc flew high above the mountains, holding Methusela in his arms.
"You ready to learn to fly? It will be a quick and easy lesson. You know what you're doing?" Veraxitoc shouted to Methusela. The wind was rushing past and the conditions were good, clear sky.
"Um, no, I'm not Uncle Ver..." The young dragon was gripping Veraxitoc nervously. Claws were digging in.
"Nonsense, you'll be fine Methusela. Now, on the count of three." Veraxitoc lined himself up over the valley.
"Threetwoone GO!" Veraxitoc dropped the boy, and instinctively caught the wind. For a good distance, the boy glided shouting screams of mixed joy and fear. Veraxitoc landed by a lake and beckoned for Methusela to join him. He came in and landed roughly.
"I hate you for dropping me like that. Never again will I trust you. I am so glad I can fly now." Methusela blew a small flame at Veraxitoc, who laughed.
"You scream like a girl..." Methusela turned and pounced, and Veraxitoc rolled over in playful enjoyment, the two playfighting. The stretch of mountain was full of life.
Suddenly Methusela stopped, and began pointing. Veraxitoc got up.
"Show yourself, and that you mean no harm..."