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Sweat rolled slowly down his jaw to suspend itself dangerously for a beat or two before it rolled down his thick throat and disappeared into the folds of his clothing. Impulse commanded he drop his gaze, but he clamped down and fought with the urge, ignoring the way his fists trembled lightly. The soft sound was all it took to shatter his concentration, and Goran jerked away from the source as though it had been a blow. He managed to quickly regain steady feet, turning with half a mind to clobber whoever had snuck up on him.

...Course, he hadn't been expecting a dragonrider to be the one questioning his well being. His jaw slackened slightly before he ruefully straightened himself up, silent, but as respectful as he knew how to be. Confusion threatened to give way to wariness; he didn't think a dragonrider would bother trifling with someone who wasn't among their ranks, much less a Candidate.

"Didn't notice it much." He eventually said, the words slow. "Was lookin' up," A rough jerk at his head towards the ledges, "...fer the height." Probably wouldn't make much sense to the other, but Goran decided that'd be all right. He didn't feel like explaining his own weaknesses.

He wasn't too sure what to say about that, shifted long and large arms awkwardly as though debating folding them across his chest. Eventually, they were left to themselves, fingers twitching occasionally with slight unease. Extreme cold... Like Between? But the man soon confirmed his status, and Goran tipped his head respectfully for the brownrider, eyes fixed on his toes for a moment.

"Goran. A Candidate, here..." And one that finally felt like he knew what he was doing here. That was why he was putting himself through this and looking like a fool, not daring to risk rejection because the creatures could sense his fear. He debated with himself for a moment more, not one to ask questions, but figured the worst that could happen would be the rider would dismiss him as a shallow-brained wherry.

"...D'the dragons just... pick who they want?" He ventured slowly, lifting his gaze to fix it on the older man once more. He'd obviously been with His for quite some time, and that was the only reason Goran didn't feel like a sharding wherry for asking. It was easier to respect someone older instead a rider his age--or worse, even younger.

Though his features remained hard, Goran was listening slowly and carefully to what R'than had to say, taking in that knowledge. He wasn't sure how it could help him, but it made him feel a little more secure--at least like maybe he could predict what to expect. That was laughable too, but he shrugged that notion off when the man spoke of the dragons themselves speaking of why they made their choices. "Mm." He grunted, rubbing at the back of his neck. Guess that made sense... He wasn't particularly sure if he wanted to know why a dragon had picked him, especially when many people had made it known that they thought there was plenty wrong with him.

That was about the time the rider announced his dragon was coming. His jaw instinctively went slack at the dark, enormous shape dropping down towards them both. The landing was graceful, and the beast moved to approach them, surprising the man with a bow. Awkwardly, his spine curved in turn towards the dragon, short, but genuine.

"T...Thank you." He stuttered gruffly with surprise. He'd heard of dragon intelligence, of course, but it was different to experience it firsthand. He took a small step back, stiff, but doing his best to be polite. "...Didn't mean to slow you down." It was clear they were going somewhere, and though he fully intended to let them go, his eyes remained locked on Garith with an awed expression that was more fitting for another boy in his shoes--the shoes of a Candidate.

He wasn't sure what to say to that, and decided that silence was the best answer for now. Had he forgotten? But the dragon unexpectedly rumbled, and drew his attention back to his magnificent form again. Shards, he could hardly believe the size and power of the creature, but he reflexively swallowed when he glanced all the way up to where the rider would sit.

Then the question hit him like a ton of bricks.

"F-Fly?" He barely choked out a whisper, swallowed to try and wet his suddenly-dry throat and felt his hands go clammy. Fly... He needed to learn how, to handle that fear eventually, but it was enough that his knees were threatening to shake. "...I'll... I'll go." He managed to force himself to say, lips feeling rather wooden. Faranth, he knew he couldn't say no, but could he even get up on Garith's back without losing his nerve?

The smile made his insides shrivel some, forcing the big man to drop his eyes with shame. He was about to shame himself, and there was nothing he could do. How else could he overcome this if he didn't face it head on? He tried to watch how the other easily mounted the brown, and slightly trembling fingers reached up when the rider said it was okay to do so.

He was surprised he managed to haul himself up with R'than's help, the sound of his own shallow breathing almost deafening. He missed the last bit of the other's instructions, thick muscles twitching all over as he did his best to not shake like a leaf. The ground seemed miles away now, and his hands splayed themselves clumsily across Garith as though the dragon would help steady his quivering nerves. Not even the warm, surprisingly soft hide could help him now, however.

Quelling the nausea that was quickly beginning to roil in his stomach, Goran sat very stiffly and simply tried to focus on getting enough air into his lungs. He'd squeezed his eyes shut without realizing it, the dizzying height almost too much to handle. And they weren't even off the sharding ground yet.

There were several obliging shifts to better help the dragonrider do what he needed to so he wouldn't fall off... and oh Shards, just the thought was enough to make his throat close off. His eyes flicked up to the other's face at the suggestion, clearly loathe to grasp at the other man... but he didn't think he could handle this with his arms hanging loosely. So, awkwardly, he gripped at R'than's back and tried to make sense of the other's words, sucking in a deep breath and jerking his head stiffly in what was supposed to be a nod.

Then every single muscle in the dragon tensed, an almost rocking motion as Garith must have stepped forward, and a leap that almost had him bite through his own tongue. His stomach felt like it'd been left back on the ground, and he daringly shot a glance over the side of the dragon to stare with horror at the shrinking ground below them.

It was probably lucky that the dragonrider had to wear such thick leather to protect against Between--Goran was gripping so tightly that his fingers had gone white. He wasn't dying though, wasn't plummeting or falling, and he chanted that silently through his thoughts even as he desperately wished for it to end. Each flap of Garith's wings sent them bobbing a little, and he could only hope the broad back of the beast wouldn't suddenly dive out from under him.

It would take several moments before the death grip on R'than would loosen just a little. All he could do was try to focus on how things had evened out, how there was a pattern to the subtle rise and fall that matched up with Garith's great wings. Of course, his stomach lurched whenever he peered down at the bowl, and soon found himself shuddering while he tried to keep his breathing more even.

"Not--you--I don't--trust." He managed thickly, fingers gripping a bit more firmly at the mere thought of loops and dives and what-have you. But also, he didn't want R'than and Garith to feel bad about this, not when he was trying to figure out how he could make himself...stop feeling this badly. It was irrational fear, and Goran finally had to screw his eyes shut once more to keep his wits about him.