Betweening and Dancing

Fort Weyr - Living Caverns

This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.

Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.


Early evening, and snow is once again swirling and drifting through the Weyr, winds yowling and clawing in vain at every entrance with evanescent talons. Br'enn wanders through it largely unfazed, given his Turns of experience wandering through weather like this and more. He respects it, but doesn't bow to it unless it demands he does. With Tovihasuth well and truly asleep for now after earlier exertions, the tall, rugged bronze weyrling makes his way to the Living Caverns with slow steps, pushing the lined hood of his long jacket back once he's past the threshold and in the warmth and light. His face is ruddy from the cold, but there's an underlying pallor lingering there - something that may become more evident as he warms up. Moving a bit more decisively now, he heads for the food, coming away with a laden plate and and a steaming mug and, naturally, searching for a place to settle.


This isn't normally Inri's haunting ground on cold nights — she's usually found at the Gemstone — but there's both something to be said for staying within the confines of one's own Weyr proper, and staying in a space that's near one's own weyr proper. The Living Caverns are certainly a considerably shorter walk. She's also helping herself to food; currently it's a giant mug of soup as opposed to anything more in depth, and some sort of warm drink that smells alcoholic. "You look adrift, weyrling," she observes, with a slightly teasing air.


Ah, the Gemstone. If only Br'enn could get away with going back there right now, but too many temptations abound there for a weyrling, still. Not that he hasn't thought about it anyway; it was becoming a favorite haunt of his, too, before he was Searched. The bigger Tovihasuth gets, the more he's been thinking about having his own space again as well. Though that's a while off yet. Stopping at the sound of Inri's voice, he turns, venturing a smirk. "Mayhap I am, weyrwoman," he says, inclining his head a bit. "Care to join me, or y'got somewhere else to be?" Does he actually want to bend Inri's ear about something?


It's around dinnertime, it's freezing and the weather is terrible; that is of course the perfect time to be stuck with Inri's chattiness and enthusiasm, right? Maybe Br'enn is just having the kind of day where that even sounds enjoyable to a quieter person. "I have nowhere to be but right here," she says, taking a sniff of the mug of soup she's holding, "so you pick a seat and I'll follow." She has a mug in each hand, while her new dinner companion is carrying a full plate in addition to a drink. At least there are liable to be plenty of empty tables.
Some people would know, Inri included, that Nyalle sprained her ankle on a recent trip to Xanadu. Which explains why she's hobbling into the caverns now, from the lower caverns, using a pair of crutches quite awkwardly. The poor petite Senior looks tired and fed up with this whole injury business as she pauses in the doorway, trying to decide if she just wants to sit somewhere - anywhere - or take her usual spot at the raised leadership table.


Br'enn certainly didn't know! Which is why, when he sets his plate and mug down at a table big enough for four and glances over to see if Inri approves, his eyebrows hike upon spying the Senior weyrwoman. "Ah…" he starts, shrugging out of his jacket and draping it on the back of the chair he stands next to, "excuse me for just one moment, Inri," he says, pulling out her chair as he passes by on his way over to Nyalle. They're supposed to be working on this whole business of manners, aren't they? Watch him multitask! "Ma'am," he says, coming up beside Nyalle with a hand out, "would y'like me to take those? Y're welcome to come sit with Inri and me, if y'd like?' The arm closer to her, he offers as alternate support. Perhaps it's less tedious than crutching about?


Inri, meanwhile, does what Inris do best — hover and fuss. "Please do," she says, abandoning her mugs as table-claims before running right back over to Weyrwoman and weyrling. "You shouldn't be stuck carrying your own food, where's Mr'az, or Zhirayr, or — someone whose job that is?" In her head, it makes sense that a busy rider or the assistant steward might be doing the work of carrying Nyalle's things; in practice, likely not.


Nyalle looks up as Br'enn approaches, her expression almost melting into one of relief. "Please. Thank you so much." Her arms are killing her. Balancing a bit awkwardly on her good foot, she passes the crutches over and then takes his arm, using it to awkwardly hobble along to the table. It's still awkward and difficult, but not nearly as difficult as those cursed crutches. "Oh, someone will bring me something, Inri," she says with a light blush. They always do. She never has to stand in line or get her own food or drink. It's always brought to her by someone. As is appropriate for the Senior Weyrwoman of Fort.


If someone doesn't bring Nyalle something…that'll likely fall to Br'enn, being the weyrling. Not that he minds, in this case. He happens to like the Senior. Being support against her hobbling is easy for him, built as he is with height to go with it, and eventually they make it back to the table, where he pulls another chair our and guides the goldrider down into it. "There y'go," he says, and remains standing until Inri sits down as well. "How'd ya do that?" he inquires of Nyalle, not having heard the story himself. In the meantime, helping Nyalle out has warmed him up sufficiently to take the high color from his cheeks…though now that hint of paleness is a bit more evident. Stubble diminishes it's noticeability further, but it might get picked up on by the observant.


Inri would end up gesturing and politely entreating — never ordering or yelling! — someone else to do it, whether or not that someone else was Br'enn. It would certainly get him etiquette points, but then again, so does this action. "Someone had better. The idea you've got to walk about like that is kind of ridiculous." Inri's shaking her head, but it's not actually at Nyalle: her disapproval is simply of the fact that fate would dare harm someone she likes. And observant certainly describes her, so she's squinting a little at Br'enn: there is something different from last time she saw him, though she couldn't actually say just yet what it was.


Nyalle settles with a soft sigh of pleasure. "Thank you," she says to Br'enn, so grateful for his assistance. "I rolled my ankle in Xanadu and their Healers patched me up." They needen't have worried, because almost as soon as Nyalle arrives, a drudge is there with a cup of tea, brewed just how she likes it. "Your meal is coming, ma'am," the drudge says, bowing and hastening off. She blushes at Inri's words, shaking her head. "I need to move about at least a little bit…"


Br'enn nods at Nyalle's last after sipping at his klah. "Gets too stiff, otherwise," he notes, his tone seeming to come from experience. Faranth knows how many times he's done the same without anyone around to help him in the woods. There's a quick glance up at the drudge before he forks some food into his mouth…and catches Inri's scrutiny. He sifts a little, a sidelong look given before he finishes chewing and turns his gave fully on her. "Somethin' on my face?" he ventures, the question only half-serious.


"Stretching is excellent. Hobbling about awkwardly can turn into a giant mess," is Inri's take on the entire issue; she's talking around sips of whatever the hot and alcoholic thing is. Mulled Something. "I hope someone ever actually asks what you want, rather than assuming. I guess they've got a pattern by now? — no," she ducks her head a little, embarrassed, at Br'enn, "at least I don't think, something about you's just different from last time I saw you, sorry."


Nyalle nods to Br'enn. "Yes. The mornings are…not pleasant." Neither are the nights, when she sleeps wrong. But. It's not threadscore so she'll deal with it. "You sound like you're speaking from experience, Br'enn." Looking back to Inri, the goldrider smiles gently. "They know what I like." She's been Senior long enough that the kitchen knows her preferences.


Br'enn nods, giving a quiet grunt of affirmation to Nyalle's last observation. "Pretty common thing to have happen, out in the woods," he notes. The scent of Inri's drink reaches his nostrils, and there's a bit of a pained expression that flickers across scruffy features. "Shells. When're we allowed that stuff again?" he questions a bit wistfully, and then he's blinking at Inri's observation before realization hits him. "Oh," he snorts, scrubbing a hand over his face. "M'icha was tellin' me I looked a little pale after betweenin' this afternoon." His lips take a chagrined twist. "Still the case?"


"Little bit!" Inri is now all sympathy, though it wasn't M'icha who had to endure her first betweening experience. "I think that might've been what Th'ero looked like after I came out my first time." There's a faint little fond smile, for a memory that could've been bad but wasn't. The lower caverns workers, they get bigger grins — knowing what Nyalle likes is getting them points in her book, even if only half the group can figure out what she wants. At least her drink is almost gone.


Nyalle nods. "Do you miss the woods?" she asks quietly, before tilting her head and looking at Inri's drink. "Graduation," she says kindly. "How did you find between?" He clearly did well. Being…not dead and all. Her food is delivered and from the smile on Nyalle's face, it's just what she wanted. Yum.


Br'enn shakes his head a bit, taking a good swig from his mug and making a face. "Thought it'd be gone by now. Just…" His eyes come a bit out of focus for a moment, almost as if he's speaking with Tovihasuth but seeing something that isn't really there. And never was in the first place. "Can't really wrap my head 'round it," he confesses to Nyalle. "Bein' nothin' and nowhere…nowhen even, but still there all the same, and it's a place they," the dragons, "know in their veins, but not us. Makes no sense to me. But…I suppose 'm not scared of it. Just unnerved by it. Gotta trust Tov more 'n' I ever have before with it." He goes quiet for a moment, then seems to belatedly register Nyalle's previous question. "Sure I miss it. But it won't be too much longer before I can be out in it again, eh? We had first glides out there, too. Can't wait to take Tov huntin' out there." When snow isn't trying to transform Fort into High Reaches.


"I was," Inri admits. "Scared of it. Until I actually experienced it, and we took so long coming out we scared everyone else, but — it's a thing you get used to, really. Betweening. Because — yes. I sure know nothing about how it works, but she does, so it really is an exercise in trust. One that goes both ways, because it's our visions that count. Very philosophical. Can't I just give him one sip for the first between?" is addressed to Nyalle, entreating. Not a whole drink or anything. One sip of hers.


Nyalle nods, smiling gently at Br'enn. "There is…the ultimate trust in that act of going between." She smiles. "More and more freedom, more room to stretch your wings. Quite literally." She nods to Inri. "I suppose you get used to it, but it never gets…easy. Route. It's always a risk. Never routine." She blinks at Inri when she asks her about a drink for Br'enn. In front of Br'enn. What's right? Sticking to the rules? Or bending? She hesitates and then nods slightly. Because she thinks that's best. But it grates against her that Inri asked in front of him.


C'rus makes his way into the caverns. He, like his fellow weyrling, has been busy with betweening today. After he had gone to the barracks and made sure that Jai had everthing that he needed in the way of oiling and then after that the pair laid down to rest. More for the sake of the man than the dragon. Jaicoureth was of course very chatty about what he thought about every little detail and it was pleasant to see him so happy and it is one of the final steps before they can be unleashed on the rest of the world so its good for everyone. He makes his way into the cavern and glances round to see who is there and who isn't.


Br'enn's eyebrows tick upward slightly at Inri's question to Nyalle, and when the Senior nods, he clears his throat a little, smiling and completely missing any bits of tension the whole affair might cause. "My thanks, weyrwoman," he says, inclining his head and then glancing up to see C'rus, whom he waves at. Returning to the topic of between, he notes, "'m probably gonna stay nervous 'til we're givin' 'em pictures ourselves. Got 'em from Niumdreoth today. I'll probably feel a little more settled, bein' in control of it myself." He eats a bit more, then glances up at Nyalle again. "We're, ah…supposed to be learnin' more etiquette stuff soon, eh?" A hint of discomfiture there, perhaps?


Etiquette has never really been Inri's strong suit either, hence her minor gaffe here — though over the turns Nyalle has seemed to be tolerant of her minor gaffes. She isn't Jajen, either. She's just got an air of casual she somewhat inherited from Dtirae and somewhat always had. "That is — scarier," is all she can say about envisioning, as she slides her mug over while gesturing with a single finger: one. Just one sip. "I was afraid we'd die, and I think a lot of the time I still am. I question myself: am I too tired for this? Do I know where I'm going? But I guess that's important, like, never stop questioning."


Nyalle nods in agreement with Inri. "It is more frightening to have your own image. Though, if something goes wrong, you have no one to blame but yourself. Still. It's always good to double check. And yes, as Inri says, always check in with yourself and with your lifemate. It's much easier to be late or spend the night somewhere else than risk betweening while tired or drunk." Then she smiles brightly. "Yes! More etiquette, and then a formal dinner and dance. I'm very excited for it." Looking around at his wave, she turns and offers a smile for the bluerider.


C'rus sees Br'enn wave and so makes his way toward his fellow weyrling as well as the two weyrwomen. He offers a salute to the pair of weyrwoman before he too joins the group, "Hello weyrwomen." he says before he offers a greeting to Br'enn, "Hi Br'enn." All in all he looks well enough, he certainly could be looking worse all things considered. Honestly the flying part is worse than the betweening. He gathers fairly quickly that is the topic of conversation, "A formal dinner and dance?" he asks, certainly curious about what all that means.


"Yes, isn't that excellent?" Inri jumps back in to conversation after a few spoonfuls of soup right on C'rus' entering statement. She is thrilled by this prospect, because that kind of thing is always very much her. She'll get to wear all of Thys' Fort-styled jewels again, too. "It'll be fantastic, that kind of thing is always fun around here." Except when people are trying to find jewel thieves based on the color of their earrings.


A dance? All the other stuff, Br'enn is reasonably certain he can get the hang of, like it or not. But dancing… The bronze weyrling pushes out the last remaining chair for C'rus with his foot with a nod, then returns his attention to the women - Nyalle in particular. "Should, ah…be interestin'," he notes, rubbing his neck and looking a bit uncomfortable. "Never been part of somethin' like that before. 'less y'count the masque…" He trails off, his expression slightly bemused.


And Nyalle will wear her autumn set. Looking up, she smiles to C'rus and returns his salute with a nod. "Yes! It will be wonderful. First we'll have dinner, the caverns will be completely decorated, fine glassware, the best food…and then the dance!" She smiles happily at Br'enn, totally missing his uncomfortable look. She's excited.


C'rus takes in all the the weyrwomen have said about the topic and sits thoughtfully silent for a second and then nods, "I think that would be fun. Do we invite people to come or is the event weyrlings only?" he asks. C'rus can't dance at all, but is willing to learn. A dinner party is certainly more his speed than the self defense class that they had to go through. He can see it being much more relevant.


Br'enn glances around, trying to picture just what will be done to the place they're currently sitting. He smirks a bit in return to Inri and Nyalle both, taking that offered sip almost absently - save for the nod of thanks he gives the junior weyrwoman. Ahhh, booze. Maybe that sip wasn't such a good idea? It'll probably just make him want it more later. "Well…" Should he confess this or not? Better to get it out now than closer to the time it'll be needed, he supposed. "'fraid you'll be havin' a time of things with me on that score, ma'am. 'm no good at dancin'." He shrugs. "Dunno how."


Nod returned, Inri claims the last couple of sips quickly for herself — no sharing to be had, here. Nyalle is the expert on the event itself, so she defers C'rus' question — in order to seize a bit on Br'enn's statement. With a typical Inri smile, one of those small, semi-secret sorts of smiles that is half sympathy and half thrill. "You will definitely learn," she promises. "That will get fixed. You're a bronzerider. Face of the Weyr." Okay, so that line is more easily used on goldriders, but — it's valid enough.


Nyalle laughs at Br'enn, light and easy. Not unkind. "Oh, don't worry! You'll all have lessons before the dinner." Several lessons over several sevendays, if she has her way of things. "Each Weyrling may invite one guest, C'rus, but we don't have a date set for it yet, so…" No need to ask now. She looks at Inri and smiles widely, nodding. "Yes, of course. All riders should know how to dance and attend a formal dinner. You never know when you'll be invited in for a meal at a hold or another weyr. And as you represent Fort wherever you go, you must be prepared."


C'rus has no idea how to dance either, but this particular moment is not the right time to annouce that. Besides Br'enn was kind enough to put himself out there already and say what he no longer needs to say. He nods to Nyalle with a smile an takes a sigh of relief, "That sounds wonderful. I'll look forward to the date being set." Nyalle's logic is unassailable, "I could see where we wouldn't want to cause unnecessary offense." Inri's comment about bronze's being the 'face of the weyr' causes a look of relief on his face. He has no desire to ever have to worry about that.


"Dancing?" Even if the boys may not be so keen, Thys is certainly perky at overhearing that particular word. She comes up just to the side of C'rus, fingers to her temple for a polite salute for Inri and Nyalle, followed by a smile for her fellow weyrlings. "What dinner is coming up? I'm guessing from the conversation that there will be dancing?"


"But 'm not-" Br'enn catches himself, snapping his mouth shut and rubbing vigorously at his neck for a second. C'rus sums it up nicely - not wanting to cause unnecessary offense would be a good thing, and Br'enn has been known to come off a little gruff to some. He's got much better since Impressing…but the risk remains. "I'll do my best," he says, and his tone is sincere, if a bit on the grumbly side. Having two left feet has been a point of something akin to embarrassment for the bronze weyrling; being able to move so effortlessly in the woods would seem to facilitate dancing. Unfortunately, it isn't so. "Are we t'ask people outside our class, then?" To be guests. He supposes that would make sense, but he's being hopeful here. There's a nod given to Thys. "'s what our Weyrwoman says," he confirms, forking a bit more food into his mouth.


"Plenty of it," Inri tells Thys with a grin, just before making a slight face at something not in the room and standing up. "You'll have a great time. And I've got to run — Zel's got some complaint I have to deal with right now, and I can't argue that I'm still eating, so —" Waves and smiles for everyone, a salute for Nyalle, and Inri is returning those dishes to the kitchen before rewrapping herself in a million scarves and dealing with the bowl's unpleasantness.


Nyalle looks up as Thys approaches, returning the salute with a nod. "Yes. We're planning a formal dinner and dancing for the Weyrlings and other members of the weyr sometime in the near future. Can you dance? If not, it's fine, there will be lessons on the dinner /and/ on the dancing before the actual event." She smiles happily at Br'enn. "I'm sure you'll do just fine." She's confident that /no/ Weyrling of hers will graduate without these essential skills. She smiles. "Of course. You may ask anyone you wish. I'm sure C'rus will ask Kera, am I right?" she queries, smiling at the bluerider. "Who would you ask, Br'enn? Thys? Would you take a date or find one at the dinner?" She smiles at Inri as she leaves, calling, "Meeting tomorrow!" to the departing Junior. But…there's always a meeting tomorrow, so…who knows why she felt the need to remind her of their daily ritual.


C'rus nods with a wide grin to Nyalle. Honestly was there ever really any doubt? "Yes. I will be asking her and hope that she would like to come." He can't see why she wouldn't but life does happen, "I'll be sure to let her know well in advance so that she can make time if its something she wishes to do." C'rus is really as insecure as all get out about where his relationship stands, but he presses onward. He looks to his fellow weyrlings. He's certain who Br'enn will invite but Thys's choice would be more of a mystery.


Thys is all grins at the confirmation that there will, indeed, be dancing. As for a date? That has her tapping her chin. "Well," she replies, with mock seriousness, "there's someone I have in mind. But then there's the dilemma of whether I want to ask him, or whether I want to arrive alone and be free to dance with who I choose… because there's more than one person I'd love a whirl with." She winks at Nyalle - perhaps the Weyrwoman will understand? - then grins at Br'enn. "You'll be asking Rynn, won't you? I wonder who R'yal will invite…"


Br'enn tips off a salute to Inri as she leaves, glancing over at Thys and gesturing invitingly to now empty chair. He's about to answer Nyalle's question…and then Thys beats him to the punch, and he arches a brow at her, a little disconcerted. Just how many people know about him and Rynn? Was it more obvious than he realized? Maybe; he might be observant in all other things, but considering his inexperience in matters of the heart, he may not be able to catch some details so easily. "I…was hopin' to, yes," he affirms. And takes a large drink. Fortunately, his klah isn't scalding anymore.


Nyalle smiles at C'rus, pleased she knew enough about him to guess that correctly. For Thys, Nyalle laughs softly. "I'm sure your partner would not mind you taking a few turns around the floor with someone else. As a goldrider of Fort, that will be your duty quite often. Many people will ask you to dance and it's not polite to turn them down. So any date you have will have to be okay with that." Forever. She smiles at Br'enn, nodding her head. "An excellent choice! I will be attending with Mr'az," of course, "but I'm sure I'll dance with many gentleman that evening."


C'rus certainly knows about he and Rynn, but would never ever out his fellow weryling. There are some secrets that are better left unsaid until the proper time. Though he grins when Br'enn cofirms what Thys said. They make a wonderful couple and he couldn't ask for more for Rynn. He also grins widely at hearing that Nyalle will be taking Mr'az, he liked him when he met him not all that long ago, "We sound like we will all have a lovely time." So many perks to being 'just' a bluerider. He glances to Thys when she speaks up about her choice, "I hope you find someone special to take."


The look Thys gets from Br'enn is met with a wink. "I picked up on it the first time I met you guys," she explains, with a gently apologetic shrug for outing them. She also declines the offered seat with a little shake of her head and a smile - though she does lean on the back of it. Nyalle, however, makes her grin hugely. "That sounds fantastic; I'd swap obligatory dancing for paperwork any day." As for C'rus's question? "I'm not looking for someone special to take, Cy… though like I said, I've got an inkling of who I might ask." She winks, leaving it at that.


Br'enn gives a very small nod to Thys, barely perceptible. Such things must just be harder to keep less obvious, he supposes. And with how hard the two of them have been working on keeping their relationship out of weyrlinghood, he thought they might be disallowed, if weyrlingstaff was aware… Well, he'll count his blessings! He concedes Thys' point about dancing over paperwork with a tip of his mug. But now he's curious, and since she guessed about Rynn… "One of us? Or someone outside us?" he asks over his mug, deadpan as he teases in his own subtle way.


"Who are you thinking of asking, Thys?" Nyalle has to ask, her smile sweet and polite. Do tell! "It should be a simply wonderful evening, C'rus. I am very much looking forward to it."


C'rus stays silent. He too has been in a relationship, of sorts, throughout weyrlinghood. He has been pretty open about it but also has followed the rules so thus far has remained out of trouble. At least if he has been in trouble there has been no one that told him so. Not unless he was put on double secret probation without his awarness. He returns the weyrwoman's smile and stays quiet for the moment, more interested in what the others have to say than anything he could add to the conversation. Though his mind does turn to Ha'ze. Who could he take? They might have to work on that. Jaicoureth could be placed on the case.


Despite looking like she had little intention of actually divulging who she intended to ask, Thys, gives a little shrug of one shoulder. "Ralik. R'yal's big brother. We don't know each other overly well, but it should be the perfect opportunity to get to know him." She blushes slightly, cheeks and ears, where they're visible just below the line of her growing-out hair, colouring red. "Though I'd like to try and get a dance in with Zhirayr, among others. Well - among whoever else will dance with me."


Smirking, Br'enn tilts his chin upward in a wordless 'ahhh' sort of expression at Thys' revelation. "Yep, oughta be a good time for it, for sure," he says, taking another drink. "'n if I somehow end up learnin' how not to mangle someone's feet, I'll owe ya one, too." As practice, since apparently he's going to be the face of the Weyr from time to time, too.


Nyalle looks a bit surprised at Thys' answer. "Ah. Journeyman, isn't he?" At least he's not an apprentice. Or a drudge. "Then you should ask him," she says with a smile. Then she giggles. Softly, but…she giggles. "I am not sure Zhirayr dances, but best of luck to you." Then the Senior pushes to her feet awkwardly, taking up her crutches from wherever Br'enn stashed them. "If you'll all excuse me though, I should be getting back to my weyr."


C'rus is no Ralik fan after the conversation that he had with him the other day, but for the present will keep that to himself. The goldrider can take whoever she wants. He offers a salute to the weyrwoman and notices her issue with a bit of concern, but assumes that she has it covered, "Have a good evening." he says to her. One can always count on Nyalle to be a lovely conversation partner. Br'enn's comment is met with a nod, "I will also be grateful."


"A Journeyman Glasscrafter, yes," Thys confirms. "I'm hoping we can collaborate on a project once I'm graduated, so it'll be a good time to talk, I'm sure." She moves to help Nyalle if she needs it, though doesn't barge in to do so to give the goldrider space. "Hence with 'try' with Zhirayr, ma'am," she says with a wink. As for Br'enn's offer? "I would love that… and you're welcome to step on my feet, too. Both of you." C'rus, too! Then, in a lowered voice so only they can hear; "I could always lead us around, if you're lost with the steps."


Br'enn hands Nyalle's crutches up to her, ready to rise and assist again when Thys beats him to it. Therefore, he keeps his place, leaning back a bit in his seat now that he's finished his food. After he salutes Nyalle. "Goodnight, Weyrwoman," he calls after her, and then proceeds to work on draining more of his klah. "I'd rather avoid doin' that," he says of stepping on Thys' feet. He's a rather big guy, after all. At her suggestion, he actually grins a little. "Might take y'up on that," he says. Though now that he thinks about it…he might have another option for a bit of help on that count.


Nyalle smiles at Thys. "An excellent idea!" She accepts Thys' help with just getting situated, and dips her head in return to the salutes. "Have a good evening, you all." With that, she hobbles her slow way out.


Thys laughs, at both of the boys' reactions. "I'll wear my workboots under my skirts - they've got metal toes." She drums her hands off the back of the chair, then dips her head to her fellow weyrlings. "I've got to get back to Rhenesath. If you guys want any dancing advice, I'd be happy to share some with you - maybe we could trade dancing for self defence?" Because she's not the best in the class at that, by any means. "See you back in the barracks, anyway." And off she turns, to trot away home.


"Sounds like a fair trade," Br'enn agrees with a nod. And Thys certainly doesn't have to worry about him breaking her nose. "See you later, Thys," he calls after the departing goldling before glancing over at C'rus. "Y'know, we both know someone else who can probably help us learn if we need it, too," he notes nonchalantly, draining his mug and following up with a satisfied huff. "Better get back to Tov, myself. See ya back there?" he asks C'rus, rising and pushing in his chair.


C'rus gets himself to his feet as well. No sense in hanging around when there won't be anyone about to talk too. Though when Br'enn speaks up about this mysterious other person he pauses, "Maybe its just that my brain has been addled by going between, but who are you talking about?" he asks. Readying himself to walk with the man back toward home, "I mean. I can probably get Kera to teach me something, but…"


Br'enn snorts a bit at the between comment, knowing well where it's coming from. "Rynn," he answers simply, focusing on donning his jacket again. "She's good at it." And any further thoughts that brings up are kept quite to himself. "One of these days," he says, walking along beside the bluerider to the door, "I'm gonna have to meet this Kera of yours…" And back through the blizzard in the waning light to the barracks they go.


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