( He should not dally. There is a point past which delays are harmful, criminal, an exotic eccentricity. They can only afford so much contemplation, so much consideration — )

Catch me.

( And then, without notice, he jumps. It's a simple, blunt thing, landing a testy proposition. His footing falters. The entire dragon — and he has broken his fall on the lower, tail-facing end of the creature — falters, unequipped to handle the additional weight without rebalancing.

He should lift himself, advance. Fails at first, fumbling, then finally speeds on, climbing. He thinks to raise Bichen and stab the dragon's back with his sword — but it is armoured by thick natural shell, and his first attempts barely drive the blade's tip in to anchor him. He holds on, through it — then propels himself up, pulling out and drawing his cutting wire to wrap around the creature's throat.

The trouble is less tightening the rope — it's pulling. For all his strength, the dragon's stronger. And so he finds himself screaming at Emilia — )

Make it give you chase! ( So that the wyrm might push itself into the wire, trying to capture Emilia. )