Quest Of Valor And Hero's Welcome


Ahnika.jpg Jhath Max.jpg Nenienne.jpg Suosith

Date: 8/29/10
Location: EW: Lower Bowl Center
Synopsis: The second afternoon of the Hatching Feast as the revelry continues and Ahnika returns with her fierce and noble Jhath. Max finally gets back to the weyr, too late to see the Hatching itself, but in time to make the Hatching Feast celebration on its second day, and he is reunited with Ahnika and now meets Jhath for the first time, while Nenienne joins them in celebrating hinting at how she knows more than either of them really realize.
Rating: PG
Logger: Ahnika

Eastern Weyr: Lower Bowl Center

The center of the lower and larger bowl of the Weyr is often a hive of activity during most days. To the north, the rockfaces start squeezing together to form the bottleneck between the two bowls. To the east is the sprawling complex set aside for the queens and a ground weyr for visitors. To the southeast lie the open-air hatching grounds, although outcroppings in the bowl's floor force many to divert in that direction via the southern or eastern portions of the bowl proper. To the south is a gently rounded rockface, dotted with weyrs to support many of the Weyr's dragons and their riders. To the west, no matter how rainy or windy the weather, the faint acrid whiff of medicines can almost always be smelt, for the infirmary's entrance can be found there.

In preparation for the Hatching Feast, pavilion tents have been set up here in the center of the lower bowl of the Weyr. Some are larger than others, but all seem to be for the purpose of helping to hold back the rain or other inclement weather from spoiling the feast celebrating Eastern Weyr's first two clutches hatching. One area has been set aside for the musicians, seated on a short riser under one end of one of the pavilion tents. In front of them, much of the tent has been cleared of tables and chairs to allow for dancing should any feel up to it. A separate pavilion has been set up for the buffet tables that bring with them an array of delicious scents and both hot and cold food and beverages. Tables and benches arranged between the two pavilions and some under the tents themselves allow for seating while people eat and drink their fill. A third pavilion has been set up for the Weyrleaders and visiting dignitaries to sit and eat and visit as they please over the course of the few days celebration. Amidst all of the structures and food and music and crowd, flowers and ribbons and banners have been tied around every pole or rock or table what can hang onto it, allowing for more color and floral scent to mark the occasion. When the celebration continues into the evening, glowbaskets at regular intervals around the main perimeter of the area are established to prevent anyone from tripping or otherwise losing their way, while a great bonfire has been created some safe distance away from the tents, while still close enough for the music to drift there and certainly visible from those who merely watch from the pavilions. It seems just about everything has been considered in preparation for celebrating this Weyr's first clutch hatchings, a celebration that will be maintained and well-stocked for over a period of a good few days.

Being that this is the first Hatching Feast for the weyr, and a double-clutch one at that, naturally celebrations continued well into the night and through the next morning, with more breakfast-like foods bring brought out. Ahnika had fallen asleep in a chair, not quite willing to go to bed yet either for wanting to stay up in case Max arrived or for other reasons, and after a few minutes of her dozing like that, Jhath nudged her nearly off Ahni’s chair and finally got her flame-haired lifemate to retire for the night, if with some reluctance. They slept a little later than usual then, giving their fellow weyrlings a break from the morning bugle, and after eating and another sponge-bath for the dragonet (not having a lake yet to do it in proper), and yet – more – oiling, Ahnika slipped away for another bath for herself, and redressed herself in her sole gather dress once more, fixed her hair, and went back to the Feast. By this point it was mid-afternoon, and while it wasn’t raining, it was overcast, managing to keep most of the revelers from getting overly hot. Not quite as many are here, now, of course, at this hour as they were the night before. But the occasion is still of significant-enough importance to warrant a small crowd. The musicians, having changed ‘shifts’ more than a few times, are still offering appropriate tunes to suit the occasion and setting and the Bakers have switched from breakfast-like foods to lunch-like foods on the buffet table. Ahnika arrives side-by-side her Jhath, standing on the edge of the gathering for the moment. She scans the crowd and not immediately seeing Max or any of his stablehands to get any information on his whereabouts, her shoulders slump slightly. Jhath turns and sticks her wedge-shaped head in her future rider’s long red tresses and wuffs, blowing some of her hair around a little and making Ahni grin and rub her headknobs. “Right. Dwelling solves nothing, Nobleheart.” Spotting a small group of other girls she knows, Ahnika and Jhath approach them in that same sober, confident gait. She falls in easy conversation with them as a server offers the green-bonded weyrling a drink of juice, which she takes, her head turning as Jhath’s does, whenever something attracts her attention.

With no time taken since arriving back in the Weyr just a mere hour or so ago, other than to hurriedly bathe, shave and change, Max looking more than a little rushed strides up toward where the festivities are still on the go. While he may appear a little flushed (perhaps from the heat of the baths?) and sporting dark circles under his eyes, his attire lends him the air of deceased Weyrsecond's son rather than that of travel weary beast manager. Stopping only to offer greeting and a quick hug for the headwoman exiting from the direction of the kitchens, his path continues on, dark eyes seeking out the form of a certain flame-haired young woman. As yet, not aware of her altered status in life. Several had tried to engage him in conversation in the bathing cavern but all had been cut short, his mother had even tried, but he had brushed her off, his focus too entirely set on reaching that one particular goal of his - Ahnika.

Whatever the conversation Ahnika is having with that small group of girls where she stands and sips her juice this afternoon, apparently something said has her laughing softly, complimenting the lilting sound coming from the musicians. Others around them are enjoying a late lunch on this, the second day of the Hatching Feast. Not complimenting the musicians, but instead drowning them out briefly, Ahni’s lifemate Jhath gives a throaty alto of a trumpet noise on the tail end of the laughter, a sound meant to be encouraging, almost as if rallying the troops. Positioned the way she is, her back nearly to the Beast Manager as he threads his way through the crowd, friend and family alike, she does not immediately see him. Jhath’s voice does earn her a caressing rub of Ahni’s hand on her headknobs once more, and the tall and stocky green dragonet snaps her wings out briefly before settling them against her olive-green and mud-colored side once more.

At first, when he finally spots her, he only has eyes for Ahnika drinking her and that breathtaking creation she's wearing in, its impact on the man quite plain to see as a warm smile slowly grows into place and then dissipates somewhat when Jhath comes into focus having the effect of stopping Max dead in his tracks, jaw working for a moment or two in response to the unexpected sight. It's sheer strength of will that has him putting one boot before the other and continuing on forward (though a little slower than before) with that earlier smile carefully etching back into place as he moves in from just ahead of and to the right of the newly bonded green weyrling.

“Well, of course,” Ahnika is saying to the others, “we have a lot of work ahead of us, but Jhath and I are more than ready and up for the challenge,” it is punctuated with another over-the-top loud trumpet from the green dragonet, which earns her a proud smile from Ahni while the others around them wince. One powerful bugle is one thing, two seems to make the other girls look for something else to do. Jhath is so overbearing with her physical voice, and sometimes mental, too. Two of the girls remark on getting something to eat and go find a table to do so, the third waves to someone in the crowd and politely asks Ahni and Jhath to excuse her, heading off to meet that person – if he or she exists – leaving Ahni and Jhath alone, with Ahni drinking her juice and watching the others disappear. She doesn’t recognize Max immediately as he comes into view then. After all, it’d been so long since she saw the man, and he’s … he’s all … all dressed up! And shaved even! More than a little dumbfounded as she just stares at Max, Ahnika’s juice cup slips from her fingers, hitting the ground at her feet with a little thump and spilling whatever was left in the contents. Then she gasps for breath, her hands first going to her stomach, and then covering her nose and mouth, trembling slightly. She blinks back the sting in her eyes and will be grateful later, when she has the presence of mind to think about it, that her hands hide the slight quiver of her chin. Jhath, for her part, stares intently at Max for a long moment. But she knows her Ahni is happy, even if it doesn’t rightly look it right now, and she knows that a lot of the worry the redhead has been feeling lately has abated, and that is good. That’s all that matters for the large, olive green dragonet. So Jhath stands up and straightens with a noble-bearing, snapping her little wings out suddenly as far as they can go in salute to Max and his return, and putting her head skyward to issue a warbling trumpet of cheer in such a degree as to make her previous vocalizations miniscule by comparison. Any who had fallen asleep outside by the bonfire or on benches in a drunken stupor actually stir and rouse from the cry of triumph: Ahnika’s champion hath returned!

<Weyr> Jhath projects with a sudden rushing roar of celebratory bonfire flame and copious amounts of wine poured and shared among friends and the flavor of porcine rolling on a spit, juicy and spicy and merriment-encouraging, « Rejoice and be merry! Mine's champion hath returned hale and whole! »

Immediately it's concern that replaces his smile when Ahnika drops her cup and reacts the way she does, which brings Max forward quickly another few steps and then he halts, eyeing Jhath warily for the snap of wings and the trumpet issuing from the little green. Sure, the redhead might know what that means, but for all he knows it's a healthy dose of 'Back off, mister or I'll bite your butt!' As such, all thoughts of simply gathering the green weyrling up in his arms and hugging her fiercely to him flee and he's lift standing there, hands knuckling to hips, like a dolt and stifling a cough with a rough sound of humor. Heedless of any that are possibly now staring at the three of them - green dragonling, her flame-haired lifemate, and one very perplexed looking beast manager.

<Weyr> Suosith's voice is accompanied by a delightful tune of elation. « Oh! How wondifferous! » There's a pause as she considers, before she adds: « That they are back, and that your rider has a champion! » She revels in Jhath's delight, adding her own happiness to the overall feeling.

It takes Jhath’s larger than life trumpet to stir Ahnika from her dumbfounded stupor, and when she does, it elicits a choking laugh, and unable to hide it longer, Ahni’s eyes fill with tears. But these are tears of joy as she lowers her hands from her face, and then laughs again, her tremendous relief and delight filling the air. “Max …” she says on laughing exhale, “you’ve come back. You’re safe and you’ve come home!” Moving forward with Jhath now as one, with the dragonet’s wings settling back in against her side, Ahnika means to close the distance between her and Max’s initial few steps forward, and if the Beast Manager doesn’t break and run from that, she will throw her arms around his neck and shoulders and hug him tightly while Jhath celebrates by stomping in measured marching beat around the embraced couple, giving short bursts of that throaty draconic alto … unless of course, Max bolted.

It's the tears that rather than draw a frown from Max, have him breaking into a broad grin. He's not coming any closer however but instead stands his ground, waiting as Ahnika closes the gap between them and keeping a weather eye on her winged escort. He might be Weyrbred but that only means he has the highest respect for a dragon and its ways, no matter how young it might be. The beast manager's arms close automatically about the green weyrling into a fierce hug as she throws her own about his neck and shoulders, head turning into her mane of flame-red hair as he lets out a deep shuddering sigh. "Hey, baby," the greeting quiet and meant only for her ears, "Shards, I missed you!" that last murmured with all the longing of those days away from the Weyr, for just this moment. However, it's not a breath later that he lifts his head and once again eyes Jhath, "She bites my butt…" head turning as the dragonet circles around behind him and then his gaze falls to Ahnika and he drops a light brush of lips against hers (screw tradition and rules), "You did good, love." Genuine pride filtering into his tone despite the knot formed in his stomach at this new turn of events.

Jhath digs her silvery talons – the only thing that is not muted about her coloring – into the ground just as Ahnika squeezes her grip on Max as he wraps his arms around her in kind. “I’ve missed you, too. I tried not to worry … but you were gone so long and … “ her words come in a rush of air against his ears, and then she pulls back, laughing softly and looking at Jhath, “Nobleheart, allow me to introduce Max. Max, this is Jhath.” She shakes her head then, eyes losing focus for a moment and then returning to look up into his face, “No …” comes the reply for biting his butt, smiling readily, “she’s happy that I’m happy and relieved now, and,” some of her mirth fades to one of sober business-like attention, “She wants to know if … if you were triumphant in your … quest of valor.” Her expression is conflict there, and not just for the work it takes in getting out Jhath’s archaic noble-speak. Then her lips quirk up at the corners a moment later in mild smirk, “And she wants to know if you brought back more choice … herdbeasts … for the ‘winged warriors’ who will ‘vanquish Thread’.” Because food is utterly important when planning a campaign. Ahni’s expression softens as he brushes his lips lightly against hers, and she doesn’t shy away, but she does blush a little, considering the public display. Another nod as she pulls away from his face, though keeps her arms around him in that hug for now, and with his last words, she positively gushes with pride, “Oh! Max! She’s soooo smart and good and noble and big – just look – and she isn’t lazy one bit. Such a hard-worker,” like Ahni, “we’ll be out of weyrlinghood and in a wing flaming Thread before any of the other weyrlings, I just know it!”

"Aye," acknowledging the length of time he was away, "we got…a little held up," but he doesn't expand on that right now, except to say with a crooked grin as he holds the forefinger of one hand up, "I cut myself, see?" Twit. Drawing away from Ahnika but keeping one arm loosely slung about her waist, the beast manager fixes the green dragonet with a long look and then dips a slight bow her way, "An honor, Jhath," in most formal manner. Amusement creases into a light smile when it appears his butt is safe, "Good to know," he remarks to that. As the redhead's amusement fades so does his in light of the question put to him by both green weyrling and dragonet. For a fleeting moment, something escapes the shields put in place for that particular topic, flickering in and out of his eyes and then is gone just as quickly as a tight smirk forms when he nods, "Aye, I have been" trying to recall the words used, "triumphant in my quest. The outcome of which is currently locked in a storage room with Doran standing guard." Lips twitch and the little green is set with a lightly amused look, "If Waine's been doing his job," clearly he hasn't even checked in with the stables yet, "then I promise nothing but the best for m'lady," this to Jhath herself. Back to Ahnika again and he hides what could either be a cough or chuckle at her enthusiasm for her new lifemate behind the back of a hand lifted to his mouth. The flicker of unease however filters in over her last on fighting Thread, and try as he might, he's not able to hide it answering only quietly in return, "Aye, I'm sure you will be."

Mid-afternoon on this, the second day of the Harvest Feast, an overcast one, is starting to draw the lunch crowd and rouse those who were so drunk in their revelry last night that they never made it to their bunks. The tall green dragonet with her noble-bearing is standing faithfully at the side of her lifemate, Ahnika, who draws away slightly as Max does, her one arm back at her side and her hand remaining companionably around Max’s shoulders as his arm remains around her waist. Jhath trumpets her approval to Max and his successful completion of the Quest of Valor. This apparently has proven his worth to the knightly-green, or dame, as it were. It is his bow and promise for the ‘best’ in the manner of food that the young green dips her head toward him graciously, and another, though shorter, snap of wings in salute. Ahnika, for her part, is distracted with Max’s finger, “Oh,” she murmurs, eyeing it for infection while Jhath goes through her noble ministrations and formalities with He Who Supplies Food And Champions Ahni. Max is alright in Jhath’s book, it seems, for now. Then Ahni sobers some to the mention of where Phineus is being locked up, and swallows, but her shoulders remain straight and out, drawing any strength needed from her fierce green dragonet. “Thank you,” she says, letting her arm around his shoulder drop now, but not moving away from his arm around her waist just yet as she adds, with acknowledgement of that unease in his eyes, “They’re training us well,” well right now it’s all about how not to overfeed your dragonet and the quirks of bathing and oiling, but still. “Jhath and I will be safe. We won’t let anything happen to each other.” The large dragonet turns then to wuff again into Ahni’s long red hair and the redhead sighs murmuring to her tomboy green, “No, Nobleheart. I told you don’t want to cut my hair. Thread or no Thread. A bun works fine.”

Nenienne is one of those who got to bed at a decent hour last night, and is back now for gourmet lunch instead of the bare bones being served in the living cavern. Unlike some people she only has one gather outfit, so she's wearing the same one she did yesterday, down to the jewelry. She spots Max and almost heads over, then realizes exactly whose green it is "saluting" him, so instead heads for the buffet tables with a wave to Ahnika.

That amusement remains in place a little longer, though there is a slight start at the sudden snap of wings and questioning look sent Ahnika's way. As to his finger, dark eyes roll with amusement for the studious inspection its given and then that self same finger moves to tap to the end of the redhead's nose, "I'm kidding, love. It's nothing. Just a scratch." Which indeed it really is and as such his hand falls away again. Suddenly aware of an elderly couple gazing in their direction and making all kinds of 'aw cute' and 'remember when we were that young' comments, Max drops his arm away from her waist as hers moves from his shoulders, a light clearing of throat and sheepish grin being sent in response to the old folk. After which he's offering a simple but grim faced nod to the thanks given on his capture of Phinues, his eyes seeking hers out and likely transmitting some of what he's not able to say right now given the situation and public nature of their surroundings. Its when Ahnika tries to re-assure him of her and the green's safety in fighting Thread that his lips purse into an unhappy line that matches the light drawing together of brows into a frown. His father would say the same thing every time the wings rose to meet Thread, 'Don't ya worry laddie, we've got each other's backs', and look how that ended up. As such all she'll get from him in acknowledgement of that topic is another quietly spoken, "Aye." The cutting of hair? That gets a -whole- lot more as Jhath is fixed with a narrow eyed look, which then gets turned onto her lifemate, "You cut your hair, I'll shave my head and you can bet there'll be no hand-to-hand combat training on the cards either," he threatens, a brow lifting to emphasize his point. This might well be one battle he and the dragonet are likely to butt heads over if she becomes insistent about the matter. Nenienne's arrival unfortunately goes unnoticed for the time being although one can bet the beast manager will be searching her out once he's gotten his bearings again.

Spotting Neni’s wave, Ahnika waves back, smile back in place for the other woman and then she murmurs to Max so as to avoid any awkwardness if and when he meets up with the crafter next, “Neni didn’t … find her lifemate, this time,” respectful pause, “But she said she’s staying on,” this stated more brightly as Ahni would definitely miss Neni if she left. Fondness transcends through that smile as she looks onto her green dragonet and at Max’s questioning look, she grins, excitement dancing in her grey eyes, “The best way I can explain it,” the snapping of wings, “is she’s sort of saluting you.” The cut on the finger is given up as he lets his hand fall away, but with her attention on his face and his eyes, particularly the circles there, she frowns thoughtfully, “You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well.” Thoughts of her own comfortable (by comparison) cot has her looking guilty for a moment, “I suppose it was … hard out there.” And then his arm slides away and she glances from old couple to Max and back again, coughing lightly and blushing more. She finds the rubbing of Jhath’s headknobs extremely interesting for a brief time, and so she doesn’t catch the expression as Max agrees quietly to the notion that Jhath and Ahni will be fine fighting Thread. To his ultimatum regarding Ahni cutting her hair, the tomboy dragonet snorts her dissent, seeming only to concede at the mention of it costing Ahni combat lessons, and she quiets, leaning into Ahni’s hand. The redhead, for her part, scowls lightly. Her hair has been the one thing she’s allowed herself to be vain about, spending more time on washing and tending to it than she does pretty much anything else on her person. But considering that she works hard and doesn’t mind rolling up her sleeves and getting dirty in any other sense, it seems an allowance might be made for the vanity. “Of course, I won’t cut my hair. It’s my hair.” She uses her free hand to sweep it back from her shoulders, and then grins at Max, winking. “So, about those hand-to-hand combat training lessons?” Jhath leans forward, looking interested, too. Big surprise.

Dark eyes follow to where Nenienne is at the buffet table and the beast manager nods slightly, a look of empathy going the girl's way, "Ah. Good to know she's staying on though. Heard…she had some commissions come out of her time here." How on Pern he'd know such a thing is anyone's guess. Perhaps he listens to idle gossip after all which by the way…this is where his arm reaches out to lightly capture Ahnika by the waist again, although briefly and brow lifts upward, "So, about this girlie-boy that wears a skirt and sings girls to the barracks, hmm?" he's trying to look stern there, but finding it hard to disguise the amusement. And then she's questioning his state of being and a quick smile appears as he shakes his head, "I'm fine, Ahni. Just a little tired, is all." He'll cop to that in the hopes that if any notice has been made of the slightly higher than normal temperature of his skin, it will be put down to the clouds gathering overhead and the subsequent humidity rising in the air. It's her vehemence on the topic of keeping her hair long that draws his smile deeper, a hand lifting as if to reach toward the glossy tresses and then remembering himself, falls away again. Instead Max turns to the topic of hand-to-hand combat training lessons with a chuckle that cuts into a slightly harsher sound at the end before it's swallowed down and a grin eases into place, "Just as soon as they'll let you off the leash." They being those who oversee the weyrlings and what they may do and when. His attention goes to the green who appears to be listening in with such great interest and his next comment is sent Jhath's way, probably expecting the redhead to relay it, "So that's a salute then, eh? The wing thing?" a smile appears and he sketches a bow, "You're okay in my books, little one." For now anyway.

Nenienne arrives back in time to hear the question about hand-to-hand classes, and when she hears the answer, asks "How about for those of us who didn't impress?" She apparently remembers this being offered pre-hatching as well. She then says "Welcome back — I hope your hunt went well?" She also gives a polite nod Jhath's way, since she only greeted Ahni before.

“Aye, she was talking about them briefly last night,” Ahnika says with another glance toward Neni that is mirrored in Jhath, who also turns her head toward Neni at the buffet tables. Although if Ahni appears to have been given any inside information on those commissions, the redhead does a very good job of keeping her expression from saying as much. And then both her attention, and Jhath’s attention, return back to Max in unison as he slides his arm around Ahni’s waist. “Girlie-boy? What?” It takes a moment for Ahnika to register who he means and then she frowns a little, coming to Neythan’s defense at first, “He’s no girlie-boy,” though she doesn’t argue that he wears a skirt, and so she just looks flustered a moment before laughing, “You heard about that?” She shakes her head, looking bemused and then tilts her head to the side a little, looking at Max and murmuring, “He was a friend when I needed one. Nothing more.” And her arm snakes around his waist briefly, possessively, and squeezes, “You look quite dapper, though.” But not girlish, that’s for sure, not with those muscles outlined in his thighs the way they do in those pants. Her grey eyes travel his form approvingly, and generating a wistful sigh that has her pulling that arm away again and giving Jhath a look, rueful, before saying to him, “Jhath does not think that what we are wearing right now is very good for fighting Thread.” Obsessed with thread-fighting much? Then she nods to Jhath, “And you are very correct there, Nobleheart. But we’ve a bit to go yet before we’re up there. We’ll be ready when the time comes.” Then another glance for Max and Ahni is crossing her arms contemplatively across her bosom, one arm lifting and a hand touching her chin in thought, “Maybe I can see about getting special permission for those lessons sooner.” Jhath stamps a silvery-taloned foot in approval. Once. It shall be, it seems, to the green dragonet. And then both Ahni and the dragonet return their watchful gaze onto Max simultaneously before the dragonet snorts once, draws herself up to her full tall (for her color and age) height and spreads her wings in counter to the ‘little one’ comment. She doesn’t linger in her showing off pose, however, just long enough for the point to be made that Jhath isn’t to be taken for granted. “No,” Ahni says, smiling to her lifemate, “You’re not one to be trifled with, Nobleheart, but you’re also not full-grown yet. He didn’t mean anything by it.” And then whatever else was about to be said or done is broken off as the green weyrling pair turn their heads in unison once more, this time to greet Neni on her approach, with Jhath resuming her noble-bearing upright position and wings tucked back in to her sides, and Ahni nodding politely to her, though there is a fleeting look of open jealously at Neni’s suggestion crossing her freckled features before she smoothes the expression calm and serene once more. “Hi Neni,” she welcomes, managing a smile for her in the last instant. It could be the mention of the ‘hunt’, too. She turns away then as a server passes and inquires after another cup of juice, having spilled her last one.

When Nenienne makes her way back to them, Max's expression settles into an odd line for one of the questions asked of him. He in turn puts a careful look onto Ahnika and then with a light frown answers simply, "Thank you. It went well." Not wishing to expand on something he'd thought not to be common knowledge and unsure of just how much the girl might know. As to her query on self-defense classes a short smile appears and he dips his head in acknowledgement of the reminder, "Need to get a few things sorted out first," small understatement there, "and then I'll see what I can do, Nenienne." If he caught that quick flash of jealousy coming from the green weyrling, he doesn't react to it, simply filing it away with an internal smirk. When she rises to Neythan's defense so quickly, a light chuckles spills out, "Highly doubt the smithcraft would have use of a girlie-boy," thus giving evidence to his words having been a tease to begin with. And then with a softer tone and smile, "I know, Ahni. I was just teasing. One of the lads down the stables said something about the gossip going around just before I left." As to the possessive catch of her arm about his waist and the compliment given his attire, a low laugh appears for the first with some degree of awkwardness for his rarely seen current style of dress which is soon brushed away as he leans closer to intone quietly, "You're the best damn looking bubbly pie here, baby." An openly appreciative if perhaps somewhat inappropriate look casting over her figure and then settling on her eyes with a light knowing smirk and a wink. "Jhath…" and here he turns a look onto the green dragonet for her views on dress and Thread but doesn't proceed with what he'd been about to say and instead turns it to words of encouragement, "is likely to grow to be among the biggest of her color judging by her size now." As to the redhead gaining special permission to train with him open approval warms his features, seeing it as serving the duel purpose of being able to spend time with her, "You name the time and place and I'll be there."

Nenienne nods to Max and says "I have a lot of things to take up my time now, since Master Jarvys wants to continue my education." She doesn't mention commissions this time.

Shrugging slightly at the questioning look Max gives her over Neni seeming to know he was on an important hunt, Ahnika flushes a little and seems grateful at the cup of juice handed her by one of the passing servers, murmuring, “I was having … nightmares,” by way of explanation, leaving Max to either riddle that one out and draw the conclusion that she disturbed the other candidates with those nightmares, or … not. For in the next moment, she is responding with a quiet contemplative look for his acquiescence over the teasing of Neythan, a gentle tugging of her lips upward and a single nod is all she will say to that subject before she looks down at her Jhath once more, briefly wondering how much teasing she could get for being so fired up and, well, tomboyish. Jhath, of course, ever-present in Ahni’s mind now, snorts and scrapes her silvery talons against the ground once more, as if to say, ‘Bring it!’ And whatever silent, speculative exchange is made between weyrling and olive-hued dragonet, it seems to be settled a moment later where she gives a violent blush against her pale cheeks and grins up at Max for his statement and somewhat inappropriate gaze and wink before she smiles coyly and looking away with such memories, clearing her throat and sighing softly with a chuckle as it looks like she won’t be able to get away from having – that – discussion with Jhath in the near future, after all. Then another solemn bow of the green’s head for Max at his complimentary explanation and Ahni verbalizes for her, “You do … her kindness … for saying so.” Pause, and Ahni replays that a moment in her head to clarify a second later, “She says, ‘Thank you’.” Whereas Alara may have to translate for Rauzath for the sake of diplomacy, it seems like Ahni will have to get used to having to do similarly, though for a less formalized and verbose speaking pattern. She sips her juice then, swallowing and smiling at Max with his reaction to her trying to get special permission. She nods, “I’ll try to keep it convenient with your present duties. Oh! That reminds me. Have you checked in on your stables yet? Zen – pardon – “ frowning briefly at a mental nudge for formalities from her lifemate, “M’zen Impressed a very flashy bronze named Tuorth. I’m afraid in all the activities lately … I’ve not heard who took things on afterward.” Then a look for Neni (mirrored by Jhath of course) at the mention of things to occupy her and Ahni adds, “Oh, and your commissions, too, Neni. I’m sure that will take up some time.” She smiles encouragingly, “It can’t be easy or quick, doing what you do, all that detailed work.” Jhath studiously observes Neni, trying to fit jewelry crafting into her bigger campaign of fighting Thread.

There's a quick a frown for Ahnika admitting having had nightmares, but for now the beast manager lays that particular topic aside, likely hoping to be able to talk with her about it in a less public setting. And no, there's not any sign of recalcitrance coming from Max for the part he'd played in bringing that blush to the redhead's cheeks, simply a short teasing smirk and he's shaking his head on the topic of having checked in at the stables. News of Zen having impressed a bronze draws a sharp lift of brows and then approving nod of head, "Good for him." With that he'll reach for the mug of juice in her hand with a mind to setting it down on a nearby table, and with a smile and a word or three to politely excuse them to Nenienne. Holding out his other hand, a short gentlemanly bow is given, a smile playing about his mouth as the harpers strike up the equivalent of a Pernese waltz, "Dance with me?" If she agrees, she'll find that while he's not a trained dancer of harper quality by any means, Max is at least light enough on his feet and equipped with enough knowledge of the various dance steps to keep the striking young couple out on the dance floor and legitimately in each other's arms exchanging quiet words, for a good long time.

Closing Credits Theme Music: Lady Antebellum - "Need You Now"

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