It was threatening to storm outside. According to Endymion, this time of year (the start of Summer) was typically already drying out the corpses of prey animals dying of dehydration (Morgan suspected slightly that he was exaggerating to some degree) along the canyon walls- so it was odd that it was still thickly cloud-blanketed and roiling. The pair make their way out to the so-called 'Mesa'. The area was as beautiful as one could image- even darkly cast in stormy shade. However, Morgan at least was not here to watch the storm roll in (which may have been dangerous- to someone less chaotically inclined) but to work with Endymion on some of the partner-based strategies that they'd been putting off for far too long.
Endymion turns to Morgan, reluctantly. He feels a primal call towards the storm- like that was where he was supposed to be.
"First off, we need to work on ru-riding work." Morgan answers, a bit hesitantly.
It was awkward, speaking of such things so strangely. Draconics were not mounts, stereotypically. However, even Endymion had spoken about how much easier it would be to get around if the pair of them were able to work together to do it. Endymion was huge now, at least by Morgan's standards. Lots of draconics were larger than him- but he was more than big enough for Morgan to find a space to comfortably sit between his broad wings (for him, as well). Though perhaps it would be easier if they could get together a saddle that would work for the both of them...
Hmm, maybe someday that Jackalope fellow would come in handy for such a tool.
Morgan turns towards him, and backs out a few feet to more easily look at him in the face. "Well, starting out I'm g-gonna need some help getting up there. You're... What, d-double my height at the withers?"
Endymion chuckles. It's a low rumble of a sound- and it almost sounds as if it is answered by a rumble above. Morgan wouldn't put it beyond him. Endymion was as part of them as their own body was. Endymion dips a wing and seems to feel as Morgan steps up, places a palm on his flank. Yeah, this was going to be a little difficult. Morgan pats him on his side- and Endymion drops the hind leg on that side too. He bends down as much as he can, and then tucks his hind leg back at the bottom of his knee. It's a makeshift step, and Morgan is able to use it to deftly step up (their light body being helpful to keep him from dropping his ankle) and sort of push onto his back. They awkwardly climb up from behind one of the broad starlight-tipped wings and they settle theirself between his shoulder blades.
Endymion awkwardly raises his wings, and then settles them against himself. His flight muscles were in good condition due to his instinctual attempts to fly (mostly flapping, half attempts that didn't get his entire weight off of the ground)- but they were untested. Instead he fits them against his own body, and turns his head slightly to look over his own shoulder at Morgan. His great blue eyes sparkled. Morgan feels a little anxious- so small on his back!
The human gets a determined look on their face, and reaches down to fasten their hands in his mane. "Does this h-hurt?" Morgan asks him. A rumble passes in the sky. Endymion shakes his head, moving Morgan back and forth a little. "W-woah, b-be careful." They complained. "P-part of this is to learn to move in sync- so m-make sure that you remember that I am up here."
Endymion didn't remember his own size sometimes, especially in relation to his human half. This would take some work. Perhaps some work while doing other types of work. Of course, he was thinking along the same lines as Morgan was in that moment. Morgan holds clumps of his mane in their hands, and he can almost feel how anxious they are about it. Electric. Morgan nods, and then looks out towards the storm. "D-do you reckon we should start on your flight, as well?" Morgan asks. It's a question that doesn't need to be asked at all. Endymion refrains from nodding, instead turning towards the storm.
"H-have you been working on your flight muscles, like we talked about?" Morgan asks him. Again, he refrains from shaking his body and possibly dislodging his human half. Instead, he begins walking, lifting his wings and testing them very slightly against the wind- but not enough to shake Morgan.
Morgan can feel the muscles in Endymion's shoulders working, in the base of his wings, and in his chest where their knees squeezed over his shoulders at the base of a muscular neck. They weren't entirely sure if it was enough- they didn't know anything about flying, theirself. However, they remembered a point in their childhood- when they brought an ugly drawing to their father and he told them that they did a great job... It made them keep working. It made them enjoy trying harder.
"Woah, cool it t-tiger." Morgan says to him. "We don't need to go leaping into t-t-th-the air right away." They patted him on the shoulder, and then grabbed a clump of mane again. "Let's start by... Trotting." It seemed like a good enough word for it, at least. Endymion had a more deer-like body than any other draconic they'd seen previously, so perhaps those modes of speech weren't incorrect.
Endymion seemed like he suddenly hardly knew how his body worked. He started walking, and even that was enough to make Morgan feel weak in the legs a bit. It was different than holding onto an equillion or something of the like. It took about five minutes of them simply walking at a slow pace for Morgan to figure out how to hold onto him in a way that didn't immediately convince Endymion that Morgan was about to fall off at the slightest jolt. Endymion rumbles- and Morgan nods. "I... I think I'm okay now." Morgan sounds... Unsure. It's an abnormal tone for them. Endymion's used to hearing commanding confidence in their voice. It makes him give another rumble in response- full of mirth.
Morgan was a difficult person to be around sometimes, let alone bound to. Endymion takes the moment to give Morgan more of a workout than he had to- moving quicker, and then into a trot.
The human nearly falls off. Of course, out of the two of them, it was Morgan that needed the most work on this. Draconics were not animals. The human manages to hardly cling on, slung every direction across his back until they manage to scramble enough to gain true purchase again. Endymion slows to a stop, and before his human can start to complain again, he speeds back up, easily into a graceful draconic 'trot' again. This time Morgan finds it easier to hold on. They were much more prepared for it.
Endymion still manages to put his human half into their paces, though finally Morgan pats him on the shoulder and he slows to a stop. He's been kicking up dust on the particular flat rock that they've been running on so much that it obscures a bit of sight. Morgan squints, raising up one arm to shield their eyes.
"W-well, at the least let's practice a-actually getting up again."
Endymion dips down as well as he could, trying to give Morgan a good purchase to get down onto the flat mesa rock. The human slips, but is able to just barely catch theirself before they faceplant. "C-come on-" Morgan said. "M-maybe this would be easier w-with that saddle idea w-we talked about." Morgan mumbles. Endymion didn't quite mean for that to happen at all, so he does feel a little bit bad. He tilts his head, and bumps his muzzle into Morgan's shoulder and then nudges gently to help them up. The human isn't hurt, and recovers quickly (having to pick up their glasses from where they fell two inches or so off of their face onto the ground- they were thankfully unharmed). "Well, uh, n-now we practice. Gotta make due with what we have." Morgan says. Endymion tries to consider them better, at this point. His human was... Small- even for a human.
Endymion was glad he wasn't any larger than what he was- as of right now it is still difficult to even feel his human's tugs for direction. Thankfully, he had a bit of an understanding with his human- something that made him fairly certain about what they were thinking as they thought it. He hadn't felt confident enough to talk about being bound to others of his people yet. Perhaps that would answer some of his questions.
Endymion works harder to get low enough to let Morgan get up on his back this time. Whenever Morgan gets situated, He steps back down again, trying to make sure that Morgan got down with as little face-planting as possible this time. The transition was much smoother. Both of them were thankful for this. "M-much better, t-think you can do that again?" It was going to take a lot more practice. They needed this to be a smooth and speedy process each time. Practiced.
However, the pair also needed to get a move on. The storm wasn't always going to hold off, just grumbling above. Endymion tests his wings a couple of times while they continue to work on figuring out how to ride together. Morgan knows, and sighs. As it turns out, the human was the much more anxious about flight individual in the pair- who would have thought? Endymion was a little bit impatient- and that was abnormal for him. Morgan can feel his flight muscles twitching. It was time to at least... Try.
They pat him on the shoulder. "Alright Endymion. I g-guess it's time to try. Uh, n-not off of any cliffs though?" They voice raises at the end, as if expecting him to jump straight off into one of the many ravines instead of testing. In fact, they half-did expect it. That was what made Endymion rumble in his chest again- another expression of mirth. Today was a good day.
 - [Start training Fly, still working on Carry Rider]
Morgan holds on for dear life as he tries to figure it out. Endymion rears up on his back legs, and gives a couple of good wingbeats. Morgan can tell he's tried before- but the form is wrong. "You've got to cup them." Morgan says, loudly, clinging to his mane and squeezing his back to hold on. Endymion barks out a loud, exasperated noise. "They aren't hands." He defends himself. However, Morgan does catch him tilting the tips of his wings in, and more air was caught by his wings whenever he gave another couple of experimental beats. Morgan smirks.
Endymion walks a few feet and tries again, and then again. Morgan is having a bit of a difficult time holding on, but is learning how to distribute their weight to keep him from being able to completely knock them off of his back. After a few different tries, both were pretty tired.
"We can always try tomorrow." Morgan offers- sweat pouring off of their brow. Morgan uses the back of their arm to wipe it off- their arms were shaking. Endymion seems... Frustrated. However, he does understand that his half is weaker in body than he is. He gently bends down, to allow for Morgan to get down. Shakily, Morgan stands on the floor of the Mesa. He turns towards the horizon. There was rain- and it was coming this way. He sighs, and Morgan puts a shakey palm on his flank. "Tomorrow." They said, matter-of-factly, and then they began the long trek across the little rope bridges to get home.
The next day the pair quietly returned. It had stormed the night before, and that morning had been bright and dewy- muggy even. Another storm was brewing on the horizon, but it was still surprisingly bright directly above them. It was time to start up again.
Today they started out a bit easier. Endymion was beginning to get the little dip and raise his hind leg for Morgan to be able to climb up on relatively quickly. Morgan finds it easier today too (though they figured it was partially the medicine they took for the sore muscles before the muscles even presented as being sore). They hope that it's partially the practice kicking in. Morgan seats theirself between his wings comfortably, and then grabs his mane more confidently today. The 'you ready?' question remained completely unsaid, and instead Endymion opens his wings, practicing cupping the wind with them instead of flapping. Morgan feels him test his wings in the good breeze that had picked up already. It was carrying the warning smells of the storm along with it.
The mesa was a veritable patchwork of bright reds and oranges- and a little dusty gold here and there. Morgan squints their eyes behind their glasses.