“What are you wearing?” I ask Andarna, who struts out from under Tairn’s wing with her head held high, boasting a contraption that reminds me of a saddle but isn’t. “The wingleader had it made for me. See? It hooks to Tairn’s.” I can’t help but smile as I see the shape of the triangle on Andarna’s back that I’m sure fits the one on Tairn’s chest. “It’s amazing.” “It’s just in case I can’t keep up. Now I can come along!”
