The blood drained from Miry’s face as Zakroti boosted himself up into the saddle and motioned them to join him. She blinked uncertainly for a moment, swaying on her feet. Belatedly, pain and panic seized her chest, worming their way up to her throat; she struggled to catch a breath. She half shook her head, mumbling to herself and shying away from the beast, legs and chin visibly wobbling. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t - Strong hands settled over her shoulders. “Miry,” Nenra hissed, somewhere over her ear. The small girl squeaked, all but falling against Nenra’s body. The taller girl caught her and propped her up, hands settling under her arms. “You have to, Miry. You have to.” The words were scarcely louder than a whisper in her ear. Before the tiny girl could argue, Nenra placed her hands on her waist and hoisted her up, depositing her quite neatly on the edge of the saddle in front of Zak. Miry flailed her legs around for a moment, fighting her slightly-too-long skirts into some semblance of elegance, draped across the saddle and trailing down the creature’s side. As she did, her gaze fixated on the ground, and she realized just how far off the ground they already were. Just because she’d grown up in a mountain fortress didn’t mean she particularly cared for heights. She folded over on herself, pressing her face into her skirts in an effort to clear the fog of terror that still clung behind her eyes. Tears welled up, and she mumbled to herself as she discreetly wiped her face on her skirt to try to clear them. Nenra took the moment to glance up to Zak. “She’s a bit skittish, is all. Figured it’s better to have you hold on to her.” Miry signed something too quickly to be understood, making a vague obscene gesture in Nenra’s direction, mostly hidden behind the tangle of her hair. She would not fight if Zak reached his arms around her, and even would slightly lean in against his chest. The tall bride didn’t seem to notice Miry’s frustration, lightly vaulting up behind Zak. She settled awkwardly into the saddle, not quite sure where to put her feet or hands. She ended up settling her hands at Zakroti’s waist, cringing slightly at the implication of that position. But there was hardly anywhere else to help her balance... She turned her gaze over the assorted men-at-arms, taking stock of the traveling party. “How far do we ride today? My - my lord,” she hastily added, nervously dipping her head in reverence though she knew he couldn’t see her. That one would take some getting used to still.