Who Metan, Rulayn, Thys, Xhanfyr
What Are the candidates prepared for their potential weyrlinghood?
When Summer, turn 2711
Where Living Caverns, Fort Weyr

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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.


It's the morning rush in the living caverns. People have filled almost all available spaces, food is being consumed, and the caverns are abuzz with multiple conversations. Metan's table has recently been vacated and so he's got one of the few places available for newcomers to sit and eat. He's picking at his breakfast, pushing his spoon around his cereal with a thoughtful frown. A mug of klah is steaming beside him, recently topped off.'

Thys is lucky that there is always a space for her, even during the busiest hours - not that she's often seen in the living caverns for breakfast. But, instead of wandering to the table reserved for the Weyr's leadership team, she makes a beeline towards the table with klah. Most notable about her? No toddler. She's on her own, nothing screaming and clinging and spreading snot all over her. And she looks happy as a clam being able to pour klah and drink it, uninterrupted. On her meandering way out she pauses by the candidate's empty table, standing with both hands around her mug so she can smile softly down at him. "I do hope you've been having enough sleep? Metan, isn't it?"

Rulayn has slept! This wouldn't normally be cause of celebration, but with the newfound joy of earplugs (as kindly suggested by A'ster), the dragonhealer is looking far more relaxed and pleased, knowing that the Barracks are once more habitable again. Gone are the dark circle beneath her eyes, and, she's even sporting a smile this morning! Sitting upon her shoulder is her usual green fare, the little firelizard whom goes aptly by the name of Petite. In passing Metan, Rulayn waves to her fellow candidate as she performs a circuit, passing by his table to where fresh klah had been set out. At first she almost bumps into Thys, but promptly excuses herself and waits until the goldrider is done before pouring herself a mug and joining the pair. "Morning, ma'am. Metan."

Rush. Rush. Rush. Such is the duty of those assigned to the caverns for their daily chore. This is no less for Xhanfyr who's busy wiping down tables between carrying freshly cleaned dishes from the kitchen to the serving table. Sometimes people are in a hurry to scarf something down and have to dash off, like that greenrider right there, who suddenly stands from her meal and then dashes out towards the bowl followed by more than a few other riders. Xhan blinks once, pausing in his excellent wax-on wax-off skills to simply following their progression. "What the…" he starts, but a passing resident laughs and leans over to say, "Flight." before wandering off to find himself a seat. The boy blinks again and then turns a glorious shade of absolute red, mouth forming a perfect 'oh'. He obviously hasn't noticed anyone he knows, soon scrunching his shoulders and just putting everything into his current task. SCRUB SCRUB ohmyohmyohmy SCUB SCRUB.

Metan's got a welcome smile for Thys, the left side of his face crooking upwards as he nods his head. "That's what they do call me, weyrwoman. Klah's good this morning, yeah? Not burnt at all." He discards his spoon to reach for his own mug to sip from. Rulayn gets a nod as well, a hand lifted in a flippant wave. "Seats are free if you'd like to join me," he offers to his fellow candidate, assuming that Thys most likely would rather eat with her fellows than the candidates. He notices Xhanfyr scrubbing and blushing with a wider tip to his smile. "Hey man, why don't you come and take a break?" he pauses, glancing towards Thys to gauge her reaction for encouraging another candidate to slack, "you look a little red in the face there, pal."
"Morning, Rulayn." Thys dips her head politely to the candidate, then listens to Metan while watching him from over the rim of her klah mug. It's raised to her lips so she can not only sip it, but so she can breathe in its familiar, spicy aroma. "The klah is good, and by all means, don't let me stop you from sitting and having your breakfast… you included." The latter is to Xhanfyr, who she waves over with a beckoning finger. "I know you will have been through a greenflight before, Rulayn, what with growing up here, but how about you boys? Have you experienced one before? Or a gold flight, perhaps?"

Rulayn shakes her head and takes a liberal swig of her klah. "I'm not staying long. I've got chores to attend shortly." She grimaces slightly, remembering how fondly her last session of maintenance work had gone. A rusty nail, a cut finger.. Luckily, nothing serious. Her bluegrey eyes drift across to Xhanfyr scrubbing away at the nearby table and quickly, with pink cheeks, Rulayn looks back to the pair she's talking with. A mug was good to hide behind, no? "Goldflights are fun." She mutters casually, giving a chance to clear her throat. Oh sweet memories, of all those evil, evil Bronzers and their wicked ways. "Vossrik didn't know what to do when Kayeth last rose. He said something about banging at his forge."

Xhanfyr is fine! Honest! And that particular purple hue does go so well with his eyes. The beastcrafter candidate is very obviously all up in his own head, because if he scrubs that one single spot with anymore enthusiasm he might actually look down to see his own reflection. Mirrored sheens aside, Metan's raised voice does do him the service of snapping him out of his reverie, head coming up and gaze locking in. "Huh?" he immediately responds, before pursing his lips and then glancing between the rest of the occupants of the table the other male candidate has gathered. From the recognition and maybe even the quick darting of his vision elsewhere, he probably knows them. Thys' beckoning is unfortunatly not missed, and he does with some effort manage to drag himself that direction. He prolongs the inevitable as long as possble, bt does ultimately end up hovering some before finally sitting down. It's a…comfortable…distance with which he put space between himself and the others, decidedly avoiding eye contact with Rulayn. "No." The quiet response is paired with a curling in against himself.

Metan's confusion dips his brows downwards as he glances to his fellow 'boy' and then to Rulayn before shifting back to Thys. "I don't really know how I'd experience one? I don't have a dragon." That admission may signal he hasn't been paying attention to whatever lessons he's been asked to attend or he has short-term memory loss. He shifts his frown to a grin as he shrugs a shoulder and returns to sipping his klah. "And if this is something I'd experience without a dragon, then no. I don't believe I have." Rulayn gets his attention as she mentions Vossrik's forge. "Did he now?" he drawls, a brow lifting and a smirk forming. "Seems appropriate if I'm reading the situation correct." He doesn't miss Xhanfyr's maintained distance but he isn't the sort to call the other candidate out on it. He returns to sipping his klah. Sip, sip, sip.

Thys settles herself in an empty spot at the candidates' table - there are explanations to be given, and they're likely going to take time. "Actually, Metan, you'll be more likely to feel a goldflight than a green. I'm sure you'll all have noticed that we've got greens going up all the time? You'll only really be able to feel them if you're especially sensitive - the sort of sensitive that is very hard to find. Golds, on the other hand, broadcast their, ah, lust, a little louder." She looks at Rulayn, giving the girl a knowing look. "You don't have to be a rider to be affected by a goldflight. They can arouse, uh, amorous feelings amongst pretty much anyone." She's got a slight blush on her cheeks for having to explain, but she's clearly amused as she waits for the reactions.

Rulayn is decidedly avoiding eye-contact with Xhanfyr this morning as well, cheeks still glowing as she tries to focus her attention on the conversation at hand. She stays standing for now, switching from chugging at her drink to nursing it with smaller sips. Anything to drag out breakfast just a little longer! "Mhm.." She nods at Metan with a brief pause. "I think he'd hurt his hand when I next saw him." And there was probably an easy guess as to why. She merely nods at Thys with a returned glance as the woman explains flights, and opts for silence, curious of the reaction from the two boys as well. Hopefully this little lecture wasn't about to include a practical session too!

Mention of 'lust' and 'dragon' has Metan's brows shooting right up towards his hairline as he hides the rest of his face behind his klah. Surely he's sipped it to an empty point now. So, he's miming sipping klah. A safe distraction from fully investing in this conversation. He tries for a conspiratory glance shared between Rulayn and Xhanfyr - dragonrider's are weird aren't they? No? "I need more klah," he declares and shifts to his feet. He's not embarrassed, not really, but off he goes to get more klah.

Yes, there were definately some key words here. Lust. Arouse. Cue Xhanfyr trying to make himself disappear, as well as find that potted plant over yonder just a breathtaking pre-apocolyptic statement peice that clearly needed to be admired. Maybe it need to be watered? It might, but currently his body was refusng to move as much as he might want to will it so. He throws Metan a desperate look that pleas to take the boy with him, but alas it is ignored. Brows knitting and still quite flushed, he drops his eyes to his hands, lacing them together and maybe inspecting his cuticles a bit closer. Nope, not looking at anyone.

And she's managed to scare Metan off. Thys watches him leave with a bemused expression, before turning her brown eyes back to Xhanfyr. She studies his body language for a moment, then leans towards him with her hands clasped tightly around her klah mug, and a grin on her face. "Xhanfyr, it's nothing to be embarrassed about - flights are natural. Those sorts of feelings are natural. Are you prepared to handle them if you Impress?" Her mug of klah is raised to her lips, and she watches him with her head canted to one side. "If you Impress a green, you'll have to deal with her being proddy. If you Impress any other colour, you'll have to deal with him possibly chasing every time a green rises. You can't be shy, in those situations."

Metan returns with his own klah refilled and a pot of more to share amongst the table - with those who have mugs because he didn't think to juggle additional with him as he returns to sit in front of his uneaten food. A glance is given to his 'gruel' and then he looks to Thys as he holds the pot towards her. "Refill?" he asks, leaning over to pour it in if desired. As to the discussion of colors and flights he decides to keep his questions - or opinion - to himself as he tries to shift the subject to more mundane stuff. "You guys get this?" he asks, gesturing his mug towards the bowl of oatmeal. "I think the cook dumped an entire thing of salt in it on accident."

Rulayn nods and nods some more at Thys' words, draining the rest of her klah and placing her mug down upon the table. She finally looks back to the redpurple boy trying to hide himself from Thys' lecture and her mouth twists into an awkward frown. "It's something you quickly get used to, I guess. When you grow up in a weyr you really don't think twice about it." She shrugs, watching Metan running off to fetch himself some klah, then return to their table. Reaching for the fresh pot once it's free, she nods in thanks and pours herself a refill before taking another swig. "Some people like salt, some people like sweet stuff." She notes, quickly turning the conversation back to the previous topic. No escape, Metan! "So.. Neither of you have been around a weyr when it happens?"

As Thys leans over, Xhanfyr leans back and away, lifting his own brown eye up off his hands to quietly meet her gaze for all of about three seconds. You see, she started talking. It was not the talking that was the issue here but clearly the subject matter. One of three things have occured, considering that the boy has started to turn blue. His brain might of hemorraged somewhere causing all respiratory function to cease, he's holding his breath on purpose, or he's died. As soon as she's done torturing the beastcrafter, he gasps and then promptly claps a hand over his face. Nothing to see here folks, move along. When Metan attempts to change the subject he all but leaps on the poor man and hugs him tight. Still very red, he brightly addresses him with an overeagerness that leads one to wonder where he usually keeps such energy. "O-o-o-oooooh! Yeah. That was me. Sorry. Ha ha ha…yep, bumped into the cook this morning carrying a lot more dishes than I should have. Boy! Was she mad! But what can you do? Right? Waste not want not." he scrambles glancing to the others with brows lifting upwards, grinning like an idiot, before the expression fades and he simply coughs. All that had brought down his color to a kiss of pink along his cheeks, which only darkns with Rulayn continued interest in flight talk. "No." he mutters, not giving any explanation why.

Aaah, blushing candidates. Thys looks at the boys with a gleeful smirk, shaking her head softly. "Oh, boys. You're going to have to think about it as we get closer to the eggs hatching. If you're lucky enough to become riders, then it will be part of your life." She doesn't care for talk of gruel, so she taps her fingers against the table and listens to them talk. When it's finished, she joins in again. "Have you considered that you may become a rider shortly? Have you thought of what that means for you?"

There goes the mug of klah up to his lips as Metan angles his eyes towards the ceiling in a 'not again' resigned sort of way as Rulayn hijacks the conversation back to flights. "I'm a virgin," he deadpans, dropping his gaze back down and focusing it on Rulayn. "Maybe I don't know what any of it's supposed to feel like so it doesn't bother me." The egg-voice seemed to guess that, so- maybe the others have the same thoughts? Metan's trying very hard to fight the smile that's wiggling at the corner of his lips. He clears his throat and once more sips klah. It's at that point Xhanfyr's taking the blame for his breakfast woes. "Man, no wonder it does taste like complete shit," he doesn't help by adding, "I should've known better when no one was going back for seconds." He can't avoid Thys' more direct question and so he looks to her and sets his mug of klah down. "I have thought about it," he tells her, all traces of humor removed from his face. "And I think it'd mean a great deal if I were chosen. But it seems hard, and a little unfair, to place all my hopes and aspirations on the possibility. One should prepare for letdown, don't you think?"

Rulayn almost chokes on her second swig of klah as Metan makes his confession. Didn't he tell her that he already had a girl? "So.. You were lying when we first spoke?" She's jumping straight onto that little fact right away! Whether or not Metan replies, Rulayn rolls her eyes in that typical 'boys' fashion and lowers her drink. "Bronzes always chase a Gold, but when it's a Green rising, some riders can resist, right?" Rulayn looks to Thys for some kind of confirmation on the facts she's been privy to in those books she's been reading. "To be honest, I don't understand why it's such a big deal. Free sex and stuff." She shrugs and eyes Metan again, before looking to Xhanfyr. "Shouldn't riders really have some.. Experience before their dragons first chase or rise? I've heard some riders go crazy the first time."

Xhanfyr shifts his weight on the edge of his chair uncomfortably, maybe hoping it will disguise the fact he's been perhaps not so subtly rotating it in an effort to make his exit that much easier. However, he stops eyeing his escape route the second that Metan drops his bomb on their little collective. He'll just openly stare at the man, wide-eyed and mouth just slightly, until he catches himself. That information had been given to Rulayn and not himself and Thys, even if they were all together at one table. So he just closes his mouth and looks away again, clearly not as brave or possessed of the right skills to be able to admit something like that himself, even if it was blatantly obvious. "Sorry." he says instead, quieter, working his bottom lip with his teeth. He had after all, ruined the man's breakfast right? One has to assume that he had been telling the truth and not just throwing himself at the first opportunity to shift the topic train onto different tracks. Now he just going to stare at Rulayn, long before she looks his way, eyes sliding back and for some reason his back straightens as he takes in all of her with a sweep of his gaze soon sliding it off to the wooden surface set before him. A frown works itself into his expression, irritation setting in. He suddenly lifts his head, takes a deep breath, and still as red as a redfuit addresses…Thys, "It's a chance." he tells her, firm and confident for once. "A chance to be more. To change your path instead of having to follow the one that someone else decided for you before you were even born." Oh, he was very serious, more serious than anyone had ever seen him before. There was passion there, the part of him that was usually hidden behind flushes, soft tones or uncomfortable silences. "That's what the dragons see isn't it? When they go out all over the world looking for candidates? That potential?" He looks then to Metan and Rulayn, and then looks down, fidgeting.

"I think it would be prudent to prepare yourself for both possibilities," Thys says with a little shrug. "You never know who the dragons will choose, and who will be left Standing. There's no way of knowing until it happens. Being prepared doesn't have to mean setting your hopes on finding your dragon this time. And," she addresses the more sensitive issue Metan brought up, "I hadn't been intimate with anyone when I Impressed." With cheeks blushing furiously at that confession, she then shakes her head at Rulayn. "Not all bronzes will chase all golds. Velokraeth will chase nearly everything, but he won't chase another Weyr's senior. There are certain bronzes here who have never chased Rhenesath; as it happens, she seems to attract more browns after her. Blues are more keen to chase after greens, and browns will chase them too - if a rider does not want their dragon to chase, then they have to learn to control the bond. However, I can't explain that any further than what the books say, as I've only ever shared a mind with a proddy gold." Ah, and then the first time question. "We do recommend that greenriders in particular find someone they trust to, ah, share a special moment with before their dragon is proddy. I have yet to see someone go crazy, though." The goldrider listens to Xhanfyr, and nods her head approvingly. "I agree entirely. Dragons certainly see potential, though it may not even be the potential that we see in people. And we still don't know what draws a hatchling to its rider, but undeniably something does." Her klah mug is raised to her lips, and she smiles softly after swallowing a warm gulp of the stuff. "Have any of you given any thought to what you'd do as a rider? Which wing you'd ride in, perhaps?"

"Lying?" Metan asks Rulayn, brow twitching upwards as he angles his gaze towards her. "About what?" He doesn't seem to be playing dumb - maybe he doesn't remember talking to her about the subject before. "I would hope that it's up to the rider whether or not they want to have experience and how they want to go about it," he answers her query, knowing it's not directed at him, as he glances towards Thys for confirmation. The confirmation she gives him seems to unsettle him more than anything as his lips dip down into a frown. Thankfully, Xhanfyr has another question to pose and this one Metan feels more comfortable addressing. "Sure. They see something in us that they don't see in the other assholes. It makes you feel special to be picked, yeah?" He rises then, gathering his uneaten bowl and downs the last of his klah. "I've got chores, I'm sure, that I should be doing. This has been a very… interesting morning conversation. Thank you for your time, Thys," he adds, noting her knot and nodding instead of saluting since his hands are indeed full. He heads out without further comment, likely leaving gossip behind him in his wake at his admission and general discomfort over the topic they fell to discussing.

Rulayn doesn't given Metan an answer. He should know what she's referring to, after all. Instead, she chugs down the rest of her klah a second time and wipes her mouth with the back of a hand as she listens to Thys explain matters. She couldn't really comment on things without knowing first-hand, and so once more she chose silence until the conversation turns to qualities and personalities and other various natures. "I'd like to stay on as a dragonhealer." Rulayn comments, finally picking a seat - the one Metan had left open. "I'm not sure if that means travelling as much as a transport rider, but I think my knowledge would expand even more if I were a Rider." She pushes her empty mug away and folds her hands together, fingers interlocking. "What about you, Xhanfyr?" She looks across at the blushing boy, for once finally being able to strike eye-contact.

Xhanfyr was chewing on his bottom lip with a lot more enthusiasm now, having slumped back in his chair fully with a curl of his spine that leaves his head to hang downwards to a degree. The irritation was gone at least, sitting there picking randomly at his short kept nails. His eyes do wander to Thys as she speaks, moistening and then rubbing his lips together as she talks about the possibilities of what might occur come hatching day. At least sitting quietly returns the blood pooling to the rest of his body, soothing the heat down to something far more calmer. Although he does drop his attention away from her after she confessess her own lack of experience before her own impression. Tension builds in his shoulders for as long as sex and flights remain the theme of the conversation, keeping out of it completely and maybe even letting his thoughts wander elsewhere. "Administrative." he says suddenly, not even bothering to look up this time. Seems the kid had lofty goals indeed. He was after all answering both Thys and Rulayn with that one single reponse, now lifting brown eyes from his lap in order to look to Metan as he speaks. Probably seems the safer of the three options at present. Though, what the man says successfully wills the rest of the extra tint to his cheeks, brows knitting towards their center. "I…" he starts to say, looking as if something that was said struck a cord. Closing his mouth, he looks down again and he's shifting his weight again, eyes sliding off to the side. "I don't think I'm special." Is murmured before silence sets in once more.

"I think, perhaps, Metan was being a bit… well," Thys says softly when the lad gets up to leave and Xhanfyr says he doesn't think he's special. "Everyone who's Searched has something special about them. That's all we know." She shrugs her shoulders gently, then leans forward to mull over the two candidates' career aspirations. "Dragonhealing will certainly be something else when you have first-hand experience," she agrees with Rulayn. But it's the teenaged boy who has her attention. "You're looking to join Phoenix, are you?" That's her wing. See the badge she wears? "What aspect of Weyr administration appeals to you, Xhanfyr?"

Rulayn seems rather proud of her own aspirations. The greenrider Tiye has been a big shot of inspiration in the proverbial vein as well. "I think so too. I'm not sure which Wing would be best for me, if any at all." She smiles all too eagerly as Thys acknowledges her, which quickly turns to a look of surprise at Xhanfyr's comment. Brows raise and Rulayn blinks rapidly at the boy with confusion. She hadn't expected that! "Really?" She asks with clear disbelief. "I didn't think you'd be into that sort of thing.. I thought you liked Runners or.. Maybe continuing your craft." She isn't familiar with all aspects of administration though, so she pauses and waits on the pair's conversation, in order to listen and learn.

Obviously, Xhanfyr had doubts, otherwise he wouldn't be looking like someone just kicked him in his nethers, then kicked his puppy in the nethers and then told them both they were ugly. He glances at Thys, then drops his eyes back to his hands. Hello, thumby. "He's a jerk." he tosses out there if no one else will, frown returning to just turn down the corners of his mouth enough for the expression to register. He has little to say beyond that, even if he does look off to where the bad bad man had wandered off to. His returned gaze sweeps over Rulayn before it lands squarely on Thys for her question to him. He considers, pressing his lips together before conspiringly leaning foward with an uncharacteristic intensity that speaks of perhaps dark intensions, "Power." he tells her, quite seriously, for about a second. "Kidding." Flashing a rarely seen lopsided grin, obviously much more confortble now, he chuckles and shrugs his slim shoulders. A glance is spared to Rulayn, "If you haven't noticed, I don't have the best people…skills." NO! You don't say! SHOCKING no doubt to everyone present. "I love runners, I always have. It's just that's ALL I've really done." That he can talk about anyway. "Being searched has forced me way out of my comfort zone and I'm starting to feel like I've missed out on…a lot of stuff." He pauses and flushes, lighter than usual at least. "And I don't mean…that." He warns the girl, before he looks again to Thys, "I think your wing can help me the best in helping to be more…" Okay now he looks down, fidgiting. "Confident." Another shrug, "The smallest things get me all twisted up inside I can barely think."

"Well, every rider must have a wing, and as a Dragonhealer I believe you would fit best into Haast." Thys has a soft spot for Haast, which is no real secret to those who pay attention. The goldrider finishes off her klah, and hands the mug to a passing candidate who hasn't been lucky enough to join their table. "Phoenix can potentially help you with your confidence, Xhanfyr, but it's generally a wing that requires diplomacy and the ability to deal with any situation. Thunderbird would be excellent for building confidence, what with all of the combat training that's required…"

Rulayn nods. "Haast. It sounds funny." She remarks with a smirk, watching the candidate in passing as Thys hands over her empty drink. With a sudden realization, however, Rulayn gasps. "Oh, shards! I'm going to be late!" She announces, pushing herself up from the table and managing a hasty bow to the goldrider in the process. "Sorry to ditch you ma'am, but I've got chores to do. I'll see you.." She nods to Xhanfyr. ".. Later?" And with that she swings a leg over the bench and takes off in a hurried trot towards the lower caverns.

The beastcrafter actually physically twitches at mention of combat. He had been, up to that point, very seriously listening but the second that word comes up he glances away and lets Rulayn's departure delay his response. He blinks and stares as she leaps up, nodding back to her inquiry. "Sure." he says, tracking her until she is out of sight and now he gets Thys all to himself. Isn't that just dandy? He opens his mouth, closes it, and then takes a breath which is released as a sigh. "I…I don't think combat training is going to…help." Aside from the way the statement is delivered, the fact his eyes slide off her then suggests there was perhaps more to the scrawny Beastcrafter than he was letting on.

Rulayn is up and out like a shot, and Thys barely has time to wave her off. But yes, then it's down to her and Xhan, and she smiles encouragingly at the youth. "If and when the time comes, you'll know which Wing is best for you. And besides, if you do Impress, part of your weyrling training is to spend time with each Wing in turn. You never know, maybe you'll surprise yourself with your choice." She stifles a yawn with her hand, giving the candidate an apologetic smile. "So sorry. Sleepless nights. I'm sure you know how it is." Since the goldrider's dumped her annoying young ward on the candidates for two nights, now. "Please excuse me, Xhanfyr. Duty calls." Thys stands up, stretches, and then gives the younger lad a salute. "Best of luck with your chores," is what she says last, before striding out towards the bowl.

There's that doubt again and the awkwardness, whose reasons are tightly locked behind lips that purse and eyes that remain glued to the edge of the table. Xhanfyr only nods to the weyrwoman's explination and comfort, not looking up again until she stiffles that yawn. "It's fine." he says for her apology, nodding again. "Yeah, do now." He might just give her a nice long hard look for a few moments before shaking his head. Hard to sleep with a squalling infant in the barracks after all, and he really must thank Thys for that someday. There is a third nod, "Sure." He watches her leave as well before doing so himself, espeically since one of the kitchen staff was standing over there with her arms crossed over her chest, pointedly with a stare fixed to the back of his head. "Sorry! Sorry!" he calls back, heading back over to the table he had only started to clean with a glance over to the rest of the cavern. He might have only been sitting down for fifteen or twenty minutes, but all sorts of tasks had piled up while he was slacking. He pales, peering over tables that needed clearing and wiping down, dishes that needed to be set back out and he sighs sufferingly. "Crap."


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