"Well," said Harold, watching the dragon soar through the sky and out of sight. "That was exhilarating, despite the sore bum. I've never ridden a dragon before. Where are we?"
"The southern steppes of Ukraine, I think," said Jasfoup, adjusting his trousers. "She must live in those mountains to the north."
"It's a bit chilly." Harold stamped his feet and rubbed his arms. "What have you got planned for the return journey?"
"Planned?" Jasfoup frowned. "You said you wanted a ride to 'somewhere southern in Europe' on the back of a dragon. You didn't say anything about 'and back again'."