Takeoff

Olpi inhaled a lungful of crisp, morning air, and looked away from the looming beast in front of her. It took in her scent, its warm breath billowing her robe. She was glad to know that Wyverns couldn't breathe fire, but that didn't mean that it could not kill her in the blink of an eye. 'Wyverns are supposed to be smaller versions of dragons, but I can't imagine anything bigger than this,' she thought. 'How does someone even tame a beast like this?'

"Do not look them in the eyes," Sir Zashil warned. He sat atop one of the four Wyverns prowling the campsite.

The Wyvern's slitted eyes sat behind its fanged jaw, watching her, this tiny morsel, tip-toe towards its tail. It seemed to grow nervous. It fluttered its wings and shuffled back on its two legs. Olpi paused, lowered her head, and continued.

Sir Zashil whistled twice. The scales along the Wyvern's head shifted flat. It lowered its head into Olpi's hand. "I trained that one myself."