Balrog gripped his father's fur a bit tighter as they picked up speed, trying his best not to use his retractable claws to stay anchored. He felt the powerful muscles move with finesse beneath him, and he felt more and more secure as they continued. The sensation of gliding through the night, with the world rushing by, filled him with exhilaration. He listened intently to Basilisk's words, imagining the glass house where his great aunt would watch the stars. It sounded like a place of magic, where the heavens were close enough to touch.
As they ascended the mountain, Balrog noticed the change in air just before his father's words, the way it grew thinner and cooler the higher they climbed. When his father mentioned the popping in his ears, he wiggled them experimentally, feeling the slight pressure shift. "Yes, I think I can feel it!" he said back, a mixture of awe and excitement in his voice; not an ounce of fear of discomfort. The adventure was even more thrilling than he could have ever imagined, being able to see the land at such high heights filled him with an even deeper connection to it as they continued their ascent.
