She is a Valkyrie – she shouldn't be afraid of heights.
But as Gwendolyn now looks down, higher up than she ever was and climbing up the back of a huge dragon, she is afraid. Her heart races in her chest and her fingers tremble. She grips her spear tighter – her sister's weapon – and evades another attack from Leventhan.
She slashes at his head and hits. Suddenly, he shakes his head, smashes into her and she falls. For a frightful second, Gwendolyn is frozen. Blood as cold as Winterhorn Ridge rushes through her; she can feel the ground coming closer, looming behind her.
A violent gust wakes her up; she is a Valkyrie. The air is her home. Gritting her teeth, she does a flip, spreads her wings and, riding the wind, shoots upwards at Leventhan's head again.
She cannot give up. Her sister is with her and Oswald surely as well. He is somewhere below, fighting, and she cannot disappoint him. She has to save him– nay, safe all of the people still alive. She is the only left to fight the dragon.
Her war cry cuts through the sky as she lashes out again. She will not be the one to fall today.