Roen did not even have to urge Goldwind; at the word GO, her mount darted forward, strides quickly lengthening to a full sprint. The paladin instinctively leaned forward as the bird began to pick up speed.
“I wasn’t ready!â€
She glanced back to see that Chachanji had fallen behind. Avenger wore a quizzical look, as if confused as to why he was slowing down. While Roen eased just slightly in her seat, she did not slow down her mount either; she had watched them long enough to know that the little bird and rider had the capacity for a quick burst of speed to catch up.
And despite the fact that this race was supposed to be fun, it was still a lesson in riding after all!
The paladin glanced back again to watch in delight as Chachanji made his first jump. She couldn’t quite see what he was jumping over, was there a rock there…? But the form was good, and he had made a grand show of it too. Roen chuckled and veered Goldwind towards the Dispatch Yard. Once the two raised platforms came into view, she could see Goldwind’s feather prickle upwards just slightly...and she could not help but share in her bird's mischievous impulse.
Roen would never consider herself prone to impishness. She did not like the thought of causing other people alarm nor did she derive enjoyment from seeing people fumble or falter. But there were moments in her childhood -- and usually it was when she was riding or doing "something non-girly," much to her mother's chagrin. An idea would spark in her mind, and the appeal of it grew like wildfire, and she was forced to commit to it lest it was lost to disappointment.
This was one of those moments. Roen veered Goldwind onto the railway track, following its course toward the two platforms that flanked it at the station.
The first obstacle was a 'No Entry' sign that stood as firm warning to any who approached near. Both Goldwind and Roen gave it no thought and gleefully leaped over it. Then she turned her bird sharply, the chocobo racing up the steps of the platform. Roen had the merest moment to give a rueful (and perhaps apologetic) grin to the two guards there -- both who could only stare at her with widened eyes. Goldwind's feet skidded against stone as Roen turned her bird sharply left again, only a few fulms away from the two Stone Torches, urging the bird for a long airy jump over two barrels and a vase that stood on the edge.
They landed on the dirt beyond leaving a cloud of dust in their wake, and Goldwind let out a hoot of pleasure as he continued to race down the road. Roen half wondered if Chachanji would take a similar course; there was an instant pang of doubt that she chose the course that she did. A risky course was not something she should have set as an example for her young pupil. Roen knew her childhood teachers would have looked askance and scowled. She was a rather restless student back then, full of daydreams -- a world of grand adventures set before her as challenges to be bested.
Now that the tables were turned, Roen could not help but feel slightly guilty at her misadventures as a child.
With that thought in mind, she glanced over her shoulder to see how the Lalafell and Avenger were faring.
“I wasn’t ready!â€
She glanced back to see that Chachanji had fallen behind. Avenger wore a quizzical look, as if confused as to why he was slowing down. While Roen eased just slightly in her seat, she did not slow down her mount either; she had watched them long enough to know that the little bird and rider had the capacity for a quick burst of speed to catch up.
And despite the fact that this race was supposed to be fun, it was still a lesson in riding after all!
The paladin glanced back again to watch in delight as Chachanji made his first jump. She couldn’t quite see what he was jumping over, was there a rock there…? But the form was good, and he had made a grand show of it too. Roen chuckled and veered Goldwind towards the Dispatch Yard. Once the two raised platforms came into view, she could see Goldwind’s feather prickle upwards just slightly...and she could not help but share in her bird's mischievous impulse.
Roen would never consider herself prone to impishness. She did not like the thought of causing other people alarm nor did she derive enjoyment from seeing people fumble or falter. But there were moments in her childhood -- and usually it was when she was riding or doing "something non-girly," much to her mother's chagrin. An idea would spark in her mind, and the appeal of it grew like wildfire, and she was forced to commit to it lest it was lost to disappointment.
This was one of those moments. Roen veered Goldwind onto the railway track, following its course toward the two platforms that flanked it at the station.
The first obstacle was a 'No Entry' sign that stood as firm warning to any who approached near. Both Goldwind and Roen gave it no thought and gleefully leaped over it. Then she turned her bird sharply, the chocobo racing up the steps of the platform. Roen had the merest moment to give a rueful (and perhaps apologetic) grin to the two guards there -- both who could only stare at her with widened eyes. Goldwind's feet skidded against stone as Roen turned her bird sharply left again, only a few fulms away from the two Stone Torches, urging the bird for a long airy jump over two barrels and a vase that stood on the edge.
They landed on the dirt beyond leaving a cloud of dust in their wake, and Goldwind let out a hoot of pleasure as he continued to race down the road. Roen half wondered if Chachanji would take a similar course; there was an instant pang of doubt that she chose the course that she did. A risky course was not something she should have set as an example for her young pupil. Roen knew her childhood teachers would have looked askance and scowled. She was a rather restless student back then, full of daydreams -- a world of grand adventures set before her as challenges to be bested.
Now that the tables were turned, Roen could not help but feel slightly guilty at her misadventures as a child.
With that thought in mind, she glanced over her shoulder to see how the Lalafell and Avenger were faring.
