Anyone can join, with a 50-word vignette in the comments. Your vignette does not have to include the prompt term.
He was borne in after her, without any choice. "We're going to crash!" he screamed.
"We won't," she said. "We won't even need a cushion."
Which did not calm him. He was, after all, rather young still.
She forced herself to total calm, even when the leaves brushed her hand.
Both men looked at them.
Jonnet wished she had had more of a cushion of time to ready herself. But this was what they were after.
"Is there anyone here who can aid us against this curse?"
The blond man spoke. "That appeal would have to go to the king."