Cleaning and Scheming (Birdy)

[kyrillion]

Breakfast at the Weyr had just been wrapped up and, as always, the dining hall had been left a mess. Plates and silverware were strewn everywhere, half-finished food had somehow crept off of plates and littered the floor. Apparently someone had been in a rush this morning, as there were even a few chairs upturned, or leaning against tables at odd angles. It was a sight Remiel was used to.

On a typical morning he slept in late and was one of the last to grab a bite to eat. More than a year ago, now, the kitchen hands and drudges had orchestrated a plot, and with a surprisingly well-organized team effort had corraled him into helping tidy up. He didn't particularly enjoy chores, of course - he was an eighteen year old boy, for Faranth's sake, there were plenty of things he'd rather be doing. But for some reason he couldn't quite bring himself to refuse every time one of the workers asked him for a hand, and he had eventually given up trying. Now, he didn't even wait to be asked - upon finishing his breakfast, he'd go over to the supply closet and grab a washcloth and a bucket of water, or sometimes a mop. Occasionally he'd start by bringing in the dirty plates and silverware that had been left behind, just to mix it up.

And though it was almost a part of his daily routine these days (occasionally he'd sleep past breakfast and barely make it in time for lunch), he could never quite shake the feeling that those darn kitchen ladies were still scheming against him. They had targetted him, after all; it was as if they thought he didn't have anything better to do!

...Okay, so he didn't really have anything better to do. He was still a Candidate, after all these years, and besides chores there wasn't a whole lot Candidates were allowed to do. Still, he rather fancied the idea of some grand conspiracy, of old cooks in frumpy clothing hatching intricate and fiendish plots behind the Weyr's back. It would certainly explain how they'd turned him into their very own lap dog, doing whatever they told him without complaint. Even if the whole theory was completely ridiculous.

Smiling faintly to himself, privately amused by his own musings, he dunked the mop he was currently using back into the water bucket, before sloshing it back onto the ground. He moved slowly, but carefully between two tables, humming faintly to himself while he worked. It was an average day in his average weyr, but at least for now the stresses of a looming Hatching seemed very far off indeed. Kalith and Nikianeth had only just flown; it would be a while yet before there were eggs on the Sands.

[Birdy]

Paralee peered into the dining hall. Was there still food left? She sure hoped so, she was starving! She’d woken up late, which was unusual for someone accustomed to an early morning lifestyle. Now that she looked back on it she must have looked quite comical jumping out of bed and rushing out of the room with her hair such a mess. Of course she’d had to go back and fix it up much to the protest of her stomach.

She was much more acceptable now, she thought. And she was ready to eat! Paralee flitted into the hall, heading straight for the kitchen. Somehow she managed to land some food and with a smile at the kitchen staff turned to face the empty hall. Well, almost empty. There was someone there. Perhaps they were on the kitchen staff too? It didn’t really matter, she decided, it was someone to talk to!

She found a table near him, setting down her tray. Hello, she began, sipping her klah. I’m Paralee, I’m a candidate. Have you ever Stood? I’ve heard it’s pretty intense, the Sands are supposed to be really hot too, she chirped, smiling at him. She was always this perky in the morning. Actually she was like this all day.

[kyrillion]

So there were still some stragglers; Remiel looked up from his mopping just in time to see an unfamiliar girl making her way into the dining hall. Probably a new Candidate - what with Kalith and Nikianeth clutching, Candidates would be in high demand, and an influx of new people into the weyr was only expected. He was quick to dismiss her, though; the meal was over and she'd likely be turned away, and he'd never been overly-fond of out-of-weyr Candidates anyway. They could be interesting, on occasion, but he rarely had an occasion to become attached to them. They either Impressed or they didn't, and either way he fell out of contact with them. These days he tended to ignore them.

By some miracle, though, it seemed that this one had managed to coerce a bite to eat out of the kitchen ladies. And it seemed she was rather more social than he, for she was soon settling down across from him (at a place he'd already mopped, but he managed to keep his mouth shut about that) and introducing herself. Well, no use passing up a perfectly good opportunity for conversation.

Smiling his most winning smile, he brought the mop around to use as a make-shift cane, and suavely leaned over to offer his hand.
"Remiel; also a Candidate. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
And then she was talking about Standing and Impression, and an almost pained, certainly awkward expression flitted briefly across his face. It was promptly banished, and that smooth grin was back in place. He shrugged nonchalantly.
"It is pretty intense, yeah. For yer first time, especially. Sands really aren't too bad, though; not as bad as the rumors, anyway." And here he interjected a wink - he was in fine form, today. "I've stood a couple of times, myself." More than a couple, but he wasn't admitting to anything. "The key is to not get all worked up about. What's gonna happen will happen, you know? No use trying to tip the scales one way or the other - trust me, it won't work. So long you been at Dalibor?"

Chores put aside, for the moment, he waved absently at the cook who was gesturing for him to get back to mopping. It could wait - it'd be rude to leave this young lady by herself now, wouldn't it?

[Birdy]

Oblivious to where she sat, she smiled at him. She turned to shake his hand, “Pleasure to meet ya Remiel,” she said, the tilted her head, somewhat confused. “If you’re a candidate…why are you working in the kitchens?” It seemed odd to her. Weren’t candidates supposed to do…she didn’t know, candidate things? Going to lessons and doing chores, well chores that didn’t involve cleaning the entire kitchen by themselves.

Being preoccupied with eating, she missed his pained expression.“Well, hopefully this time will be better right?” Paralee chirped encouragingly. “Not that I know ANYTHING about hatchings, never even been to a firelizards hatching.” It was true, though they had come across the occasional flit trader, she had never had the chance. But it wasn’t as if she wouldn’t jump on the chance.

She managed to smother a laugh that was coming when he winked at her. This was going to be entertaining! She took a last sip of klah, having finished her actual food a bit earlier. She stacked the plate and cup, looking around at the dining hall. “I can help you if you want to?” she suggested, standing up. She had nothing else to do really.

[kyrillion]

Still draped over his mop-turned-walking-stick, he grinned cheekily at her question.
"Sweetheart, this-" he gestured at the kitchen and, by association, his efforts to clean it, "-is what Candidates do. We're nothing but free labor 'til Hatching day. Not much else for us to do, really, sad as it sounds... You'll get used to it soon enough, trust me." He grinned, as if at his own wit, but in all honesty he was just glad the conversation was going smoothly. He liked this, being the center of knowledge. Having the facts. Introducing someone to the 'craft' of being a Candidate, which as far as he was concerned was really just drudgery (he'd been to too many Candidate lessons than he could count over the years, and had skipped just as many). Still, he felt like something of an expert for once. It was a good feeling.

His grin was more forced, though, at her next comment. Hopefully this time would be better? Yeah, right. He'd been telling himself that two or three times a year since he'd turned eleven. At two different Weyrs! There was always a chance, sure. Always a possibility that a dragon just couldn't lived without you. But Remiel was feeling more and more like old news. Almost too old to be a Candidate, now. And then where would he be? Sharding nowhere, that was for sure. Although, come to think of it, this girl looked to be about as old as he... But then, she was new to all of this. Hadn't been passed over. Had actually been brought to the Weyr as a potential rider...

"There's somebody for every dragon, sweetheart. But that doesn't mean there's a dragon for everybody. You've been Searched, though - that's always a good sign. Us weyrbrats just get thrown in, really, once we're of age. Never any knowing, with us..." He wasn't making much sense, anymore. Or at least he didn't think so. But it was a genuine thought, for once - one of his own private doubts that'd slipped out into what was supposed to be conversation. It was just hard for him to put into words; maybe she'd skip right on by it, though. He didn't particularly want to elaborate.

"Not a whole lot to know about Hatchings, honestly. And the Candidatemaster'll go over anything important, guaranteed. I can give you a quick run-down, though, if you'd like? And in return, I'll take you up on your offer to help." He reached behind him to the bucket of water, where a few rags hung that would be used to wipe down the tables, and afterward to dry them. He grabbed one of the damp ones and held it out to her, waggling his eyebrows at the tabletop that separated them and grinning cheekily.

[Birdy]

“Oh?” Paralee said, running her hand through her hair. Well this to be expected right? They had to do something with the candidates right? Though Paralee could think of more enjoyable tasks they could let candidates do. Grinning at him, she placed her plates on a nearby table (one that hadn’t been cleaned), turned on her heel and faced him once more. “And I thought being a candidate meant sitting around waiting for eggs to hatch,” she said with a laugh.

How fun this was! He was flirting with her! And she hadn’t been called sweetheart since….well actually it hadn’t been that long. She debated how long she could keep up the act, if it went too far he might….she shuddered at the thought. No, she’d have to stop it if it came to that.

“I suppose that makes sense,” she chirped. “There are lots of people without dragons but no dragons without people! Well if you count fire lizards there are but I don’t think that applies here huh?” Paralee said thoughtfully. What would happen if there wasn’t anyone for a dragon? She knew that answer, /between/. Though she’d only been /between/ once she still vividly remembered the horrid cold and nothingness of the nasty place. Well she wouldn’t have to go there again for a while would she? And the next time she would have her own dragon to endure it with her!

“So you’ve Stood quite a few times? When were you Searched?” she asked, taking the rag from him and started cleaning the table, focusing on the table for a moment before speaking. “Sure, anything you know about Hatchings would be nice,” she said, grinning back at him.

[kyrillion]

"Oh, there's a lot of that, too." He assured her with a grin - this one quite genuine, and rather amused. "It's killer, even if you're patient. And just when you think the sharding thing is never gonna happen, you here that humming..." He paused, eyes clouding over with dozens of memories; and most of them, surprisingly, good. Even if he hadn't Impressed, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the thrill of it. The possibility - that telltale humming always signified great things.

"Firelizards are... different in that respect, yeah. A baby firelizard will go wild if there's no one around it likes; a baby dragon, on the other hand, will go between." His voice took on a profound solemnity, for a moment, before he went on, "But that rarely ever happens. They'll choose someone in the stand before they resort to that; those are always fun, I think. Stand Impressions. People always get so scandalized, even though there isn't really anything you can do..."

Like that lord holder, D'lios. All right, in that instance he'd admit to some bad feelings; the man had a reputation for being a pain in the you-know-what. And for him to bond with a dragon, when there had been so many deserving boys - and girls! - on the stands? Quite frankly, Remiel had been disgusted. Although he had wandered more than once what would happen to that pair when they graduated. He would think a dragon would be bored living in a hold, instead of a weyr... But it wasn't really his place to speculate, and anyway he didn't particularly care waste any time thinking about that holder.

Turning his attention back to Paralee, he was satisfied to see that she had accepted the rag he offered. As she began mopping down tables, he resumed his task of mopping the floors, though was sure to move at the same pace as her - no use shouting across the dinning hall at each other, was there?

"I wasn't really Searched," He admitted reluctantly, his eyes focused determinately on the floor. "I grew up at Ista Weyr; the Candidate Master, S'rial? He's my brother." A touch of pride, there, that she could probably hear. "We moved here after he Impressed - Dalibor needed more riders. I've been Standing at Hatchings since I was 11 years old; I've lost track of exactly how many times." He chuckled, as though he actually found any humor in it - which, he supposed, in an obscure way he did. Seven years he'd been standing! That had to be approaching some sort of record, right?

"Let's see, tips, tips... Things my brother won't tell you in the lessons..." He took a moment to ponder, still smiling, though it was difficult to tell if this one was genuine or not. His gaze was still rooted to the floor. "They'll warn you about how the hatchlings are clumsy, tell you to get out of the way or risk getting mauled. But don't let that get you jumpy - a dragonet might be going after you because they want you for a rider. Keep on your toes, sure, but don't go assuming that's what any clumsy dragon is setting out to do..."

What else? What else to tell her? "Don't try and influence a decision - my first Hatching, I don't even know what I thought I was doin'. I guess I would just think really, really hard about any dragon that I thought I wanted. Trying to summon it, or somethin' weird like that. And trust me, the stuff never works - if a dragon wants you, it'll come to you. No use trying to get things to play out one way or another." He turned to glance at her, see how she was doing with the tables. If she wanted more tips, he could always dredge some more up. "Hey, maybe we can write this off as chores. I mean, I'm here every morning anyway; but it might get you out of herb-gathering, or something."

[Birdy]

Paralee paused in her table cleaning. “Well I guess I’ll keep my ears peeled,” she said. “Is it more like a person humming, like,” she hummed a little. “Or deeper? I didn’t even know they could hum. Weird huh? Guess I don’t know much about weyr type things,” she shrugged, going back to work. She really didn’t know much about weyr type things did she? How we she react when she heard the sound? Probably faint from excitement but that wouldn’t be good. Then she couldn’t Stand!

“Yeah, that would be interesting! Imagine going to a Hatching to watch someone Impress and coming away with your own,” she laughed. “”Hey mom and dad look what followed me home!”” Paralee giggled. “Bet that doesn’t happen much though huh?” But you’d never be able to tell if someone Impressed under strange circumstances, all the dragonriders looked the same to her.

“Oh so you were born in a weyr? That’s awesome!” she said, eyes wide. “I wish I could have grown up in weyr! I grew up in a caravan, not that much fun, trust me.” Paralee said, rolling her eyes. “And I guess I’ll see your brother at lessons right? That must be cool, what color’s his dragon? You know I tried to get my brothers Searched, pushed ‘em right under the rider’s nose but he picked me instead, it was weird. Not that I’m complaining or anything,” she rambled cheerfully, happy to be able to talk to someone.

“So no trying to send subliminal messages to the Hatchlings?” she laughed. “Darn, that was my secret plan.” She paused in wiping down the tables, pulling out a ribbon from her pocket and tying up her hair. Ah, now she could see properly. “You do this every day? Yeah I’d rather do this than root around in some garden.”

[kyrillion]

Her next question was an interesting one; most people didn't dwell on the whole humming bit. He supposed on some level most new Candidates got caught up on the other details, and assumed that the sound the dragons made could be equated to a human hum.
"It isn't, really. It's the same sort of noise, but much deeper." He said after a moment's thought. "It almost sounds... echo-y, too. Like you're hearing it twice." He shrugged, nonchalant, and back to playing it cool. His expression fell into an almost-flirty smile, again, though his attention was still mostly on mopping the floors. The dining hall was huge, given the number of people that lived at the Weyr. If they didn't get a move on, they could be here cleaning for most of the morning.

He actually laughed at her joke about stand Impressions; the whole 'hey, mom, look what followed me home' thing struck a funny nerve with him. His genuine laugh was a bit louder and more mirthful than his typical chuckle, but the difference was hardly perceptible unless one was paying careful attention. "Yeah; it's a pretty rare thing. Fun, though, like I said. The kids always get the most ridiculous looks on their faces..." He shook his head almost wistfully; this conversation was actually succeeding in getting him a bit excited for the Hatchings. Which was no small feat; the thought of Standing again usually filled him with worry and a bit of cynicism. Maybe socializing with the Candidates, particularly the friendly and optimistic sort, like this Paralee girl seemed to be, wasn't such a chore, after all.
His grin turned and stayed genuine, this time, and the conversation started flowing more easily. The suave-ness he always strived for was almost effortless, now. "Growing up in a Weyr has its fun times; there's always something to do, and not a whole lot of supervision, either. You wouldn't believe the sort of trouble my friend's and I got into back at Ista..." He snickered quietly, enjoying the memories. "But a caravan sounds all right, too; you get to see new places. Travel. I didn't set foot outside of a weyr until I was... Faranth, I must've been nine years old." Looking back on it, now, he could hardly believe it himself.

"My brother rides a brown." The pride was back, again. "Duareth - you'll meet them both at the lessons, yeah." Remiel had always had a soft spot for his brother's dragon, and he knew the feeling was mutual. S'rial could go on at length about how his 'sharding brown spoiled that miscreant brother of his'. But when it came right down to it, S'rial had a soft spot for his little brother, as well. They were a big part of the reason he couldn't see himself living outside of a Weyr; or at a different Weyr, for that matter.

He nodded subtly at her Searching story; it surprised him, sometimes, how common this scenario was. You never could tell who a dragon was going to pick, and sometimes it was the person least expected. "Well, whoever Searched you had a good head on their shoulders. You're a good choice." It was said off-hand, as though it were a simple fact or statistic. It wasn't quite flattery; it was almost as if he had run her through his own little mental database of old Hatchings, and decided that she fit the bill of a dragonrider. It was a compliment, certainly, but not one meant to be flirtatious or suck-up-ish. Just a simple comment, and he was quick to change the subject.

"I'm here after breakfast most days. Those kitchen ladies-" he turned to eye the kitchens suspiciously, "-ganged up on me a while back. No use resisting; they're persuasive. And a bit scary." He winked good-naturedly, only half-joking. The only mother-figures he'd ever had had always been weyr workers, and he'd found that most of them had a penchant for catching weyrbrats at pranks and shenanigans. And they were stricter than any candidate or weyrlingmaster he'd ever met. "Gardens can be a nice change of pace, though, honestly. But anything that gets me out of the Weyr for a bit is high on my list- as high as any chore can be, in any case."

[Birdy]

“Echo…y?” Paralee said, tilting her head. “Is that even a word? Maybe not, but if it sounds echo-y then I believe you. You grew up in a weyr so you must have heard it a lot.” She flashed an equally flirty smile at him, one she normally used on the girls at the Holds she visited, this was too much fun. Picking up her rag she looked at the section of table she’d been working on. “Looks good to me,” she chirped, moving to another area, closer to Remiel.

She was rather proud that she’d made him laugh, it lightened the chores a bit. Imagining the kids faces sent her into a fit of silent laughter, after a few second she managed to regain her composure and set about wiping down the next table. This Remiel was so nice! If only her were a girl…well a girl could dream! Humming to herself, was silent for a moment listening to what he was saying.

“However could you get into trouble at a weyr? Steal the Queen’s eggs? That would be a sight to see. The mother would probably filet you and serve you with a side of runner,” she giggled, then winced. “That sounds painful…remind me never to go near a Queen’s eggs.” She returned to working, it sure was a big dining hall. “How long does this normally take?” she said, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain. “Living in a caravan isn’t all that amazing, it’s the same scenery over and over again…” she said, making a face at the thought.

“A brown? The big ones? Shards, that’s cool. Bet you get to see him all the time huh?” she said enviously, though he said she’d get to meet them at lessons. “Lessons? That fun or just work? I’ve never really been to any formal lessons, sure my parents taught me the basics but we never stayed at a Hold long enough to learn much from the Harpers, and we had to do caravan-y stuff,” she said with a shrug. So she wasn’t quite as educated as the Hold and Weyr children, she had fun and that was all that she cared about.

“Why thank you,” Paralee replied to his comment on her Searching. She grinned at his quick change of subject. “I’m sure they’re not that bad, they cook food for the weyr and,” she put a hand on her stomach looking thoughtful. “No food poisoning….yet.” She laughed, quite loudly, wondering if the woman in the kitchens were listening.

[kyrillion]

He didn't miss that flirtatious smile; and he was quick to return it, with all the charm he could manage. He didn't take it any further, though - he was a shameless flirt, sure, but for precisely that reason it didn't often mean a whole lot. It was almost a reflex, sometimes, or a default he fell back on for lack of anything better. And anyway, Paralee hadn't started throwing herself at him, or anything of the sort, which always made him uncomfortable - she was being subtle. He liked subtle. He could handle subtle no problem; it wasn't that far off from suave, which was of course his default attitude. It had always been his favorite.

When she asked, albeit facetiously, if he and his friends had ever stolen a queen's eggs, he spluttered and nearly dropped the mop. So much for suave. Trying hastily to recover, so hastily that he nearly tripped and bumped into a nearby bench, he answered with a soft chuckle - one that didn't quite hide his terror at that idea. "No! Definitely not anything like that - shards, I'd be dead. Trust me, you and I would not be having this conversation if I, or any of my friends, had ever been that stupid." Weyr-born kid, indeed. He sent her another grin, this one almost embarrassed - not a look he often sported, but he was feeling comfortable enough with his new-found chore assistant to be a little up-front with her.

"Anyway, browns are pretty high up there as far as size goes - and Duareth's bigger than most. He's got length on some bronzes." Ever one to brag about his brother's dragon, this one was. At least there hadn't ever been any jealousy, there. He was sure his brother worried, now and then, that his status at dragonrider would foster some sort of resentment - but it had honestly never even occurred to Remiel to be bitter. "We hang out sometimes, sure. My brother jokes all the time that he's the third wheel. Duareth is pretty social, though - he might even say a word or two to ya at the lessons, if you're lucky. Ever heard a dragonvoice?"

"Lessons... will probably be interesting for you. Good stuff to know. But I've known it all for a while. I still go, though. Most of the time." Okay, sometimes. But he wasn't admitting to anything. "This must be a weird change for you - living with a caravan would be... well, I'd think it'd be a lot different. Just being stationary, I guess, would be a big deal." He glanced at her, eyebrow quirked with genuine interest. If he ever did Impress, as soon as he and his dragon learned to fly he intended to visit anywhere and everywhere he could. Whether or not that would be with permission... well, he did like an occasional drama. A bit of trouble-making here and there never (didn't usually) hurt anyone.

When the conversation turned back to the cooks, he took a few quick steps closer to her and dropped to a whisper, feigning grave seriousness. "They're geniuses. Evil geniuses. They've got the run of the weyr, after Fajra and Kalith - behind the scenes, you know. They've got this whole hidden agenda that they don't talk about. No one ever knows what they're up to, but they know everything." If she was paying attention, his silly grin would give him away as being intentionally melodramatic. He knew he was spouting nonsense - and he loved it. When he really put his mind to it, and with the proper application of his serious-face, he could even convince some of the Weyr's visitors to believe whatever story he decided to spin. He wasn't about to try that with Paralee, though, of course - he liked her far to much to mess with her like that. But he was rather fond of his kitchen-lady-conspiracy theory, and was hoping it might even generate a laugh.

[Birdy]

Another smile. She was on the verge of cracking up. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know anything about boys. She did have roughly half a dozen brothers. This was the way they looked when flirting with one of the girls at the hold. Shards, it was entertaining. Though she supposed she didn’t want to take it any farther in case he was disappointed, so there was no flirty smile in return from her. Just a little grin.

His reaction to the Egg question widened the grin. He was tripping all over himself. Poor guy. But she pretended not to really notice of care, just giggling at what he said next. “Kill you? Well I supposed that’s justified, if I was a mother I’d be pretty pissed if someone tried to kidnap my child, I suppose she wouldn’t roast you though. The Queens don’t breathe fire do they…” it wasn’t really a question, more of a realization on her part. “She’d probably get her mate to do it!”

“Oh your poor brother!” Paralee laughed. “Well he’s the one with the dragon,” She reasoned. “He gets to talk to him 24/7.” She paused for a second, hit by a wave of excitement for the coming Hatching. Oh she hope hope hoped she’d Impress. And Remiel too, after Standing for so long he deserved to Impress! “Oh yeah, there was this Yellow. Annith I think her name was? Such a cutie, had a very pretty voice but I didn’t expect it. Nearly fell of the bench!” she laughed, wiping down another table.

“Oh yes, it is so nice not moving around every sevenday!” she said, sitting on the bench with an exaggerated sigh. Then, remembering that they were supposed be cleaning, jumped up, spun around and got back to cleaning.

Giggling Paralee got up real close to Remiel, looking around with mock suspicion. “You should tell the other candidates that. It would really get them paranoid,” she said whispered with a devious grin.

[kyrillion]

"Nope. No breathing fire for the queens - but the king would've been happy to do it, believe me." He chuckled at her reasoning, true as it was. He'd gotten into plenty of trouble as a kid, sure - he and his friends had even made a sport of it at times. But stealing an egg had never made the shortlist of pranks. Had never even been brought up, and with good reason. "Have you seen Kalith or Daidoroth, since you've been here? I mean, getting on their bad side is the last thing you want to do." He assured her, only half joking now. "And I say 'their' because, believe me, anything that's bothering Kalith is bothering Daidoroth. Two sides of the same coin, the are." He grinned, at that. He was rather fond of Dalibor's reigning pair, as reluctant as he'd been to transfer from Ista all those years ago. They were good at what they did; they actually helped keep the Weyr running, instead of just delegating to headwomen and other riders, as could sometimes be the case. They'd earning his respect, at least, in the time he'd been here.

"Annith, huh?" His eyes widened imperceptibly, but his grin was genuine. She was one of Dalibor's better-known girls, with a pretty infamous rider. "She's a pretty one, isn't she? Not every day you get to see a yellow dragon. How'd you meet P'nay?" He inquired absently, vaguely curious. Riders didn't often socialize with Candidates; it wasn't as if they went out of their way to avoid them or anything (although he certainly knew some that did), but the two ranks didn't generally run in the same circles. Except at meals, and things, but then she wouldn't have seen Annith...

When she commented how nice it was, not having to move every sevenday, he nodded in sympathy. "I can imagine." And he could, of course, but at the same time he couldn't help but wonder with some envy what it would be like to actually travel. Staying in one place, all the time, with no respite could get... well, boring. Still, as they say, the 'grass is always greener'...

His grin turned playful again when she leaned in and suggested he spin his stories for the rest of the Candidates. A mischievous twinkle lit in his dark eyes, and he chuckled conspiratorially. "Think they'd believe me? I could tie it in with a vast, lower-caverns-worker conspiracy. Or an ancient order that only king and queenriders are allowed into, with some sort of sinister secret agenda." It'd be fun, he had to admit. Still, he generally saved his bullshitting for people who... well, wouldn't have any sort of opportunity to call him on it and seek revenge later. No harm in plotting, though, was there? And a healthy dose of paranoia was always fun, so long as you were the instigator.