"Dragonite carries me easily, and you and Horsea don't add that much weight. Dragonite will be alright, I promise." He's still petting Dragonite when he nods at Diarmuid's question. "I'll get on first, and help you on afterward, alright?"

With that, Sam turns and swings one leg over the dragon's back, clambering and adjusting until he's in a stable position. But he's still not done fidgeting -- he scoots back as far back as possible, almost right up against Dragonite's wings, to make more room for Diarmuid to sit in front of him.

"Alright, hop on!" His tone is playful, and he holds out both of his hands to help the boy up.