Vanator hoisted Pygmy up behind him and gave her a moment to settle against the yvas. "Now, hold on tight." He reached around and took one of her hands, pulling it around his waist. "I mean it, both hands. And don't smile if you don't want bugs in your teeth." He laughed, then glanced back at her over his shoulder. "Here we go!"
Pygmy could detect no signal between rider and mount, but in an instant the Cyphrus Strider launched up the gentle slope of the depression and out into the plains. Backlash lived up to her breed's notorious reputation for speed, and as if to prove it to the stranger. The mare thundered across the flatlands, parting the grass with the swiftness of an arrow. In the Sea of Grass, no horse could match the Strider's pace.
Vanator's mane of light brown hair whipped behind him as he hunkered down and leaned forward, the breeze cold in his face. As the steed's hooves ate up the ground beneath them at a dizzying pace, the Drykas horseman let out a joyful hoot, thoroughly enjoying the breakneck dash.
Again, without any indication, Backlash came to an abrupt, jarring halt. Vanator reached back with one arm to steady Pygmy so she was not thrown during the arresting stop. He twisted his head to look sidelong over his shoulder at the young woman. "So, that is how a Drykas rides!"