Jake's ears perk up a bit, and he trades the reverent look for a gleeful smile. "Earth scientists call 'em banshees. They're like these bit bird dragon things with a fourteen meter wingspan. Taming one's part of the adulthood rite," he adds, flashing sharp teeth. "You fail, you get eaten. You win, and you get a badass critter to ride. Hunting from ikran-back is a hell of a rush, lemme tell you."