[A Rooftop]

He watches them as they converse, noting the deference of the riders and that Caesa observes in her own turn. His mouth knits into a frown at her. What a wretched old thing, and sorcerous no less, and yet the others refuse to simply leave her below. The witch's eyes disturb him somehow - and his gaze does not linger for long.

The strange elf nods his head, climbing aboard the saddle and gripping with his knees, the straps ignored. He leans forward to stroke the bat behind its ears again, before fitting his feet into the stirrups and pushing his heels against the bladed spurs to urge the steed into the air. "I am less accustomed to this, so I will take the rear until we are about to land." His hands work the reigns with ease, although there is a clumsy moment as he tries to corral the creature to hover over the rooftop and let the others go ahead. "From there, you will go ahead while I dispatch their sky vehicles. I will catch up."

And reaching down to turn the gem, he kicks the spurs again and the air becomes a roaring around his ears, the streets below a blur as they take to the skies.