The material of the bag is tough enough that Yrael can dig his claws in to keep his balance and not be moved about too much. Once the bag is open, the white not'cat pokes his head out quite as though he's done this sort of thing before, quickly shaking his head once, before looking around. The sun and blazing heat and new place are lovely in combination, he feels. Green eyes peer this way and that, taking in buildings and people and horses with equal interest.

As well as having ridden in bags before, he's certainly had to hide what he is before, and knows how to talk while keeping his mouth movements to a minimum. "It seems all very new," he murmurs, watching a couple of children play in the shade of one of the buildings.