At first, the impression Andrew gets is that this is not going to be even the slightest bit more comfortable or less painful than if she had carried him in her talons. With all the muscles and feathers shifting under him, it's a wonder even Secret can keep him from sliding about and losing his position, and more than once he grunts in pain when she jostles his injured leg or when Secret puts a little too much pressure on his side. He grits his teeth and braces himself for the second takeoff, probably making it worse by tensing his body. He's getting no enjoyment out of this whatsoever, only the pain of motion and the sickening feeling of lurching through the air.

At least, that's true until her flight evens out and she stops flapping. Andrew opens his eyes against the wind, peering over her shoulder as they rise on a thermal. It doesn't hurt too badly now (at least, no more than when he was sitting on the ground), and his breath catches at the view as they zip between buildings at what seems like tremendous speed.