Chatterbox: Inkwell

Hi. I'm not a new CBer, in case you were wondering. This is my pen name. Please don't guess my real identity. I think it's pretty obvious, but please don't.

This is from a story I'm writing. I just wondered what you thought.

Cuttin' and pastin', so don't mind the bleah that shows up.

No context. >:)

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     And so the
draglets soared, water trailing off their bodies and into the cool air. Onwards
and upwards, breathing hard, all their exhaustion gone for a moment. Driven by
happiness and determination, Ronilian lightly flew in a fluid arc that seemed
to graze the Skywall itself. He was half sky dragon, while the girls were not;
now he was the adept one, the graceful one. He had been born to fly, to watch
the water sweeping past below, to try to laugh and have your laugh get carried
away in the wind, to feel that feeling in your stomach that you were going to
fall, that you were out of control, but to have your mind telling you that
miraculously, impossibly, you were safe. The pain in his wing nearly evaporated
in his joy.