Mako can only hope the horse has some idea of where it's going, because no amount of desperately yanking on the reins has any hope in redirecting it. Panicked as the animal is, it's more likely than not that it has no greater plan than simply getting away. For the moment, that plan, one-note as it might be, suits her.

Oily smoke streams thickly from the predator's open gullet as it dips low and takes to the sky again with an almighty clap of its wings. The Balladeer seems to be keeping pace, though the poor man is practically bouncing against his steed's back.

She opens her mouth to suggest something, anything, but she never gets the words out. Her horse jars to a halt and bucks again, throwing her bodily from its back and sending her arcing to the ground.