Catching the helmet easily, Alanna gapes at the bikes, fighting off a dozen questions.

Where do your feet go? How do you balance?

Does it like sugar cubes?

A small, nervous laugh, and she climbs on, overbalancing slightly for a moment.

"I've always wanted to fly," she says in a brave sort of voice. "But shouldn't there be more between your legs?"

As soon as it's out, she turns bright red and jams the helmet down on her head.

Grumbling, "I only meant it feels like the skinniest horse known to man."