Laven laid flat on her backside, a rock jabbing into her shoulder blade. She'd have rolled over, or shifted to a more comfortable spot, but at this point she had no more ******** to give and just stared up at the purple hued light above them.

Tallulah hovered, hooves shifting in the compacted dirt and loose gravel beside her. The youma waited a moment longer until it became apparent the Captain wasn't about to get back up and try riding again any time soon. It's head lowered, breathing in the scent of her, of the musty smell of dirt that clung to her hair and scales, the salty sweat from a hard day of trying to 'connect' as this bond thing was new to both of them. Then, without warning, she bumped the side of Lavendulan's head with its muzzle which earned it a rather pointed glare.

"Don't even..." the Captian warned, to which the kirin-like youma responded with a whiney-neigh which sounded more like a laugh. Probably was a laugh... a*****e Laven thought to herself, unamused by the number of times she'd slid off its side, somersaulted over its shoulder and how close she'd come to breaking a horn on that last fall.

As much as she'd like to put the blame on Talulah, it wasn't her fault. It was a feral creature from the Rift, Not used to a rider save for the day she helped them escape. And Laven... well... she was a creature of water; born to swim. Not raised to ride an animal, or youma for that matter. Closest she'd ever come to something like this was when she was nine years old and her aunt and uncle took both her and her brother to the zoo where they were allowed to ride a camel in a circle.

This was completely different.

For one there was no bridle or reins to hold onto, no saddle to sit on or help her get up and onto its back. No stirrups to put her feet in to keep from sliding sideways when Tallulah took a sudden sharp turn.

Nothing.

Nada.

Zilch.

Bareback was such a primitive way of getting around and a far cry from anything she had done before.Tallulah had been considerate enough the first few times by lowering herself so she could swing a leg over her back and get on. But even youma had a limit to their patience with those who were too inexperienced not to know where or how to hold on.

Horns, as Laven quickly learned, were a definitely no-go. As they were with her, incidentally enough. Just as she didn’t like anyone grabbing hold of or touching hers without permission, Laven should have been more prepared for Tallulah’s reaction.

A quick bow of its head had pulled her up and over it’s shoulders where she scrambled to let go and instead wrapped her arms around it’s thick muscular neck.

The scaled beast didn’t pause so the Captain could scoot back down into place and instead shook its body as if she were nothing more than an annoying fly that kept landing on it. Laven’s weight shifted but she held on fast and soon found herself hanging below the youmas throat; arms and legs wrapped around it like a lifeline and the floor beneath them was lava.

It huffed.

She groaned.

And after a moment she carefully lowered her legs and stood on two feet when Tallulah finally came to a stop. Dear god, it was an ab workout just to keep from falling off and being trampled; not that she believed her youma would intentionally do such a thing, but the thought of it wasn’t pleasing.

That was then. Six hour ago when Laven believed that this could work, had been optimistic that she could learn to ride.

This was now.

Both so tired and fed up with all the fumbling and falling that her youma finally, in it’s own way of calling it quits, took off at a canter. Laven let out a startled scream to which the scaled beast came to an abrupt stop and bucked her off completely.

Should have used her magic to lessen the impact. Should have teleported away to avoid the fall. But she was both mentally and physically exhausted. Unable to think, only react, and all the Captain could manage to do was cover her face with her arms and squeeze both eyes shut.

Again Tallulah bumped the side of her face with it’s soft muzzle and Laven lazily reached up to grab onto a fistful of it’s short beard. “I hate you,” she groaned, body aching in places and ways she didn’t think was possible. Incredibly displeased by how this training exercise had gone.

Tallulah was unphased by those words and instead turned it’s head to the side. An olive branch, a horn to hold on to, to help her up and back onto her feet. “I think that’s enough for today.” She patted the beast's muscular shoulder that was covered in scales similar to her own.

“You go do your youma things. I need to go get ready.” Take a long hot bath to relax before going to the party that she wasn’t entirely sure she was fit enough to attend. As long as she could walk straight and not bow-legged then it should be fine.

She hoped...