That was the most boring thing I have ever done in my life, Iraz grumbled. They could at least have given us a section of the border where things happen.
You hate it when we get those assignments, too, you big baby, she sent. Iraz rolled their eyes.
Fatoumata checked the straps on the saddle one last time and then climbed into the seat. She buckled herself in. Hey-up! With a bone-jarring jerk, Iraz took off.
They took the route over the Serha Plains--maybe a little more dangerous, but definitely shorter. And this high up, nothing could get at them. Unless they chose to land--which they weren't going to, because Fatoumata had made sure everything either of them might need to be on the ground for had been taken of before they got up in the air--then nothing could reach them.
Nothing physical, anyway.
The death-shock hit her so hard she pitched sideways. She'd gotten lazy, let her shields down, something she always did at this altitude, because she was out of range of everything but this. Ten at least. Maybe more. All at once. Iraz went stiff, their wings stopped beating, and the pair of them dropped thirty feet before Fatoumata got a grip on herself and locked everything down.
"We're going to see just what in the hells that was," she said shakily. She'd've liked nothing more than to get as far away from it as possible, but she was a knight. Knights ran to. Besides, Iraz was a lot of muscle that breathed fire. Who could ask for better backup?
They swooped downwards. Below them, a black dot grew gradually clearer. And so did a feeling of wrongness. Not human. With a thump, Iraz landed before him, and Fatoumata freed herself from the saddle and slid off, a hand on her sword.
[Don't feel obligated to match, I always get like this with my first post in a thread.]
