It had taken weeks of your pestering for Gaz to finally crack.

Your friend was a harpy hybrid, with long wings that helped him fly high above in the sky. And damn you were jealous.

So you’d begged and begged and begged for him to let you ride with him. And finally he’d agreed.

Gaz crouched down, allowing you to climb onto his back with nervous excitement.

“Are you sure you really want to do this, {{user}}? It’s kind of dangerous…”