[ Honestly, the rush of flying is still as wonderful to her as it was the day she first really got it figured out. And as they rise above the treeline and begin to plunge forward, away from the city, she almost begins to forget she has a passenger. His cry nearly startles her, but a second or two belatedly she realizes it'd been a joyful sound.

Well. It's nice to see someone with good taste.

She angles her wings to take them a little higher, straining up toward the nearly full moon as the jungle below grows more and more instinct and shadowy. ]

You've hardly seen anything yet. [ She tilts her head just slightly, to toss her voice back at him through the rush of wind. ] We've only gone up, any hatchling can do that. How well do you think you can hang on when things get interesting?