Weyrling... Again?

Xanadu Weyr - Weyrling Barracks
A long and roughly oblong cavern. About a third of the space is open, used for classes or chores as required. The rest of the space is filled with couches of varying sizes, all with plenty of space between them. Some couches are obviously intended for the very young weyrlings while the largest ones at the back are for the older weyrlings.
There are supplies for the care of dragons tucked back against the walls. A barrel of oil sits with scrub brushes and soft clothes, and a thick hardwood table is used to prepare meat in bite-sized pieces for the young dragons. There's also a few supplies for the weyrling humans, like bedding for cots or extra pillows for those sleeping on their lifemate's couch.

Exhaustion: the very word that Risali seems the embodiment of as she carefully ties long, black curls out of her face to spare her the indignity of very hungry queens and the muck that always seems to find its way into her hair during feedings. Leirith's face is pushing into Risa's stomach, wuffling with impatience as the weyrling pulls over a bucket of meat and tries to concentrate on the task at hand, willing double eye-patched, temporarily 'blind' golds do not rip her fingers off in their hangry haste to be less hangry. « Even if I take off a finger, you'll still have all the other ones! But if I don't get food into my stomach, then I can't be held responsible for what happens next, and we both know that you'll look better sporting one lost finger than - » She just goes on, and on, and on, a throbbing bass of excitement and sound that booms into the fragile minds of those all around her and rattles at the windows to be let in. "Leirith, focus please." But for all the impatience in Risali's voice, there's none of it in her face as she helps guide her lifemate, reaching out on occasion from her vantage point on the floor to run fingers along the ridges of patched eyes, or the wonkiness of those curious little knobs.

The beat of wings and spoken conversation outside? Yeah, ain't nobody hearing that. So there's not much early warning, really. Garouth's thoughts might be perceptible to someone paying enough attention, but the creep of shadows underfoot is easily missed, the sense of cold… arguably just a window rattled by that bass beat. D'lei is first in the door, looking like… well, a lot like some candidates when they walk /onto/ the sands, to be honest. A combination of terror and uncertainty, complete with a partially-successful attempt to hide it under a mask of Everything Will Be Fine. He's taken off the jacket of his dark blue riding leathers, that over his arm, but still wears the rest. Following him in is Garouth, the bronze all but slinking in posture with his head down and his ridges shadowing his eyes. The darkness of his mind is deeper closer in to him, though… a feeler of cold wind does blow toward Leirith, curious despite his pout. D'lei pauses, looking around, and… settles his gaze on Risali. "Oh. Hey." He smiles. "Do you…" Actually, you know, he was going to ask a different question but now that he sees Leirith nearly going after a finger… he changes his mind. "…want some help?"

Indeed, Risali gets no warning - not when she's so focused on preventing the loss of a finger that D'lei's voice is what startles her (not the entrance, nor the looming shadows, nor the hints of cold that something this way comes) into action. The harper-turned-weyrling honest-to-Faranth jumps, making a strangled noise of sound in her throat that's abruptly snuffed when shoulders tuck towards her chin, brows drawing together in anger rather than surprise, and those grey eyes swing from goldling to bronzerider in just enough time to get her finger damn-near snagged on a tooth. "Ow, Leirith," she hisses, but the appendage is safe - for now. D'lei may not be. Or Garouth, whose curious cold draws Leirith's attention in the form of her head coming up all covered in DEADSTUFF so that she can WALK RIGHT ON OVER TO HIM. Okay, so into a cot first, and then something else there, and maybe she trips on her bucket of foodstuff before finally stumbling into the bronze because Risali is much too busy glaring accusations at poor, poor D'lei, but she gets there, OKAY. Finally, the look softens, Risali dropping her gaze as she brings one dirtied hand up to press the back of between her eyes and rub away the tension. She's just tired. Honest (it's a lie). "Hello," she finally breathes, and the tone speaks of one emotion only: exhaustion. Now the harper is giving D'lei a weak smile, apologetic almost, as she looks from her hands to him and - "That would actually… be very kind. Yes, please. And thank you." But she doesn't recognize him, does she. "Did you need help with something? Are you lost?" Though she's gaining her feet and pulling the bucket over to the bronzerider, bronze, and gold - the gold who is beating at the cold of Garouth's mind with so much excitement. « - and so I thought she is the fiercest, scariest minion there is, and - even better! - she can see. So I made her mine. She doesn't always do her job, but then I just hit her with the silent treatment. Ha! » A beat. « What happened to your wings? » Don't worry. Those are just your brain cells dying. Slowly. One by one.

"..ahh. Sorry!" That's D'lei's own startlement, with a half-step back and a lifted hand… though then he sets them back down again, spread slightly to the sides along the way as if to declaim all responsibility. He didn't do - okay, yes, he did do it, but never mind that. He didn't mean to do it! And now he's going to stand there with an apologetic look until either the murders or forgivenesses happen, apparently. Garouth turns his head to watch Leirith as she progresses toward - no wait - yes - kinda - there we go, toward him. Thump! A physical body to go with those throbbing beats that crash through the shadows like square-waves in a visualizer, storm-fronts of darkness that modulate the environment as they pass through. « Nothing. » Just darkness and - oh wait, no, that's his answer. « My wings have always been so. » He tilts his head down, a bonk of his muzzle to the top of her head. On the beat, though! And relatively gentle. « What about your eyes? » He accompanies the word by a mental image of amber hunter-eyes gleaming out of the darkness. Watching. Always watching. « I chose mine for his strength. » Garouth's head swings up, looking past D'lei to Risali. « He is not perfect… but we become better… eventually. » A snort, and oh hey! Eventually on Risali's glare has come, and D'lei answers that smile with his own "Sure." He hurries forward, helping to pick up a few shreds of meat that were a tripping hazard and bring them back to shiny-town. But why /is/ he here, anyhow? A heh, at the question, and a wry smile. "…no. Don't think so, anyhow. This is the weyrling barracks, right?" He's mostly asking rhetorically, because it would be weird to have a mini-gold otherwise. « We're, uh… visiting." Yeah. That's… definitely it. (Also a lie.) "From Monaco. I'm D'lei, and this is Garouth."

D'lei's apology earns a wince from Risali, a grimace on her face that's equal parts chagrin and pity as she tries to soothe the starting-off-on-a-bad-foot with a gently spoken, "No, it's really fine. I'm sorry that I…" Well, she didn't say anything; it's why Risali's words fall flat, under the guise of labor as she moves the bucket until D'lei's there to help her, and she stills. "I've been told that I'm… Anyway, it's not important. I'm the one that's sorry." Back to work! Leirith, meanwhile, raises her head when Garouth bumps her with his muzzle and there's a wuffling of sound as she tries - blindly - to snuggle in closer. « So can you fly, then? » Though that throbbing bass eases for a moment, as if Leirith for once is actually considering the question that's been asked about her eyes. Or the creepy eyes. Probably the creepy eyes. And finally: « Nothing. My eyes have always been so. » Did she just… mock him? Probably, because there's the equivalent of draconic laughter somewhere in that ever-upbeat mindvoice, and perhaps just a bit of humor at her own handicaps being questioned. « There are people who help Risali put stuff on my eyes and then they cover them so that I really can't see, but they are dragonhealers. And I don't think I need to tell you why they're called dragonhealers. » Another beat, and then almost as if she's proud, or thinks he's unintelligent, or a combination thereof: « It's because they're healers. For dragons. » Speaking of Risali (or rather, lifemates), Leirith is inspecting the bronzerider through her own lifemate, crooning at Garouth again before saying, « Well he can't be all that strong. He's afraid of mine. And mine is tiny. » But it's not mean; it's almost like the dragon just has NO FILTERS. None. Not even a little. "Visiting? The weyrling barracks?" Does Risali's look look suspicious? Because that's no accident; she's looking for his knot, lifting her eyes towards Garouth, and then slowly lowering herself back down to the ground. It's not in Risali's nature to pry. "Well met, D'lei and Garouth. I'm Risali, and the never-ending conversation over there is Leirith." Whom she's trying to coax back for food. "Are you here looking for somebody?" Okay, so maybe she pries a little.

"We can both be sorry?" D'lei offers. Compromise! It's one of those important skills of interaction. Or so he's heard, anyhow. He certainly seems to have enough of a smile to prove there's no hard feelings. Garouth lifts one of those wings, to give a better view of its tattered edge… or maaaybe to provide an arch of shadows for Leirith to snuggle under. Maybe. That would imply that he was nice or something, though, so it's probably just showing off… to the blind dragon who can't see them anyhow. DETAILS. « I fly well. » His tone is factual, not bragging, and that mockery draws a rumble from him and the sound of thrummed wings like quail startled from the brush. « You understand. » He seems amused, though, and as he listens to her there are other sounds, like animals moving around in the darkness. « Some of them are dragons, who are healers. They make the pain go away. But they also make you stay very still. » A snort. « I do not enjoy that. They made me stay in the infirmary when I was already healed. » With his wing lifted, the mostly-healed marks of teeth and claws are more visible… and for all Garouth's dismissal of them, they don't exactly look like they're ancient history. He lowers that wing, in a slow beat that fans down a breeze against Leirith … and their riders … to go with the ones in his mind. « There are different kinds of strong. He knows yours is strong too. That is respect. » Not fear. Nope! He won't have (or admit to) his rider actually being afraid. D'lei… hehs. No handy knot for reference, but he supposes he can answer anyhow. "…okay, not exactly. I mean…" He sighs, and looks back to Garouth. "We're here because he got demoted." That makes Garouth look up, with a snort of dismissal that's met by a stare from D'lei.

Definitely gotta be the offer for a view then, fierce, UNFRIENDLY DRAGON that Garouth clearly is (read: precious cinnamon roll). "Okay," Risa breathes, and there's a whisper of laughter (and relief) that comes on the heel of one word and a foreign bronzerider's willingness to shoulder some of the blame with her (even if he doesn't need to own any of it). And while Leirith may not be able to see herself, she can certainly see through Risali; the weyrling lifts her eyes from D'lei to his bronze, grey eyes scrutinizing in a way that's definitely Leirith's influence and not at all her own - pausing with widened eyes when they take in the marks of violence and Risali presses her lips together to keep herself silent. Leirith? She has no such reservations. The little gold's mind just grows louder to chase after the animals fleeing, matching his amusement with her own as she informs that, « We've got a badass over here! » She learned that word from Risa, truly - and then another wuffle when it comes to respect. « Respect? Ha! That's just a really nice way of saying 'fear'. » But again, the tones are upbeat, the bass throbbing strong, her amusement clear, the lack of intentional insult (and probably the very real misunderstanding) easily read in the house party of her mind. Risali's hands still, her eyes leaving the duo of dragons to fall back on D'lei as the truth is set free and it looks for a moment like the weyrling isn't sure whether to laugh or apologize, and so she's focusing back onto her hands. "Leirith. Eat." But she doesn't make the queen move away from Garouth, where she CLEARLY INTENDS TO STAY PARKED until he leaves, or she falls asleep and he leaves, or she finds something better to do. One, two, three moments of Risali carefully feeing her lifemate (and allowing D'lei to help, if he so chooses), before she clears her throat. Yeah, no. That's definitely humor in her voice. "Was it worth it?" Odd question, but there you have it.

Is that thunder? Nope, just Leirith, crashing through the forest after fleeing animals and smashing trees to splinters in her wake. That breeze? Definitely the rush of her passage, and not just Garouth's wing fanning her. « Not badass enough… yet. » A soft rumble from him, as in the shadows some larger creature moves… away, keeping a distance from that wild chase. At the opposite of distance? Risali! With food! « Eat. » Garouth encourages with another light bonk. And he'll even wait until she has a bite, the jerk that he is, before he continues. « She respects you. How could she not? » A bunny-rabbit from his forest, dancing on the tables at Leirith's party - and then transforming into a ghastly stretched shadow-figure, a monster of darkness… still dancing away. Partybeast! « But I do not think she fears you. » Occasional finger-bites aside. Okay, and maybe a few incidents, here and there, but that's only to be expected when you're moving at top speed and then some! D'lei settles in by Risali, helping drag out bits of meat to give her but mostly letting her own fingers be the ones risked by Leirith's jaws. He'll just make sure there's a ready supply! It's kind of reassuring, having something to do. Helps balance the awkward of… "Heh." A wry smile. "He thinks so." A glance to Garouth, then back again to Risali. It's time for his moment of silence, as he thinks about his own answer… and provides pieces of meat. "…maybe," he concludes at last. "Kith was. Marzoth… maybe wasn't."

The fascination of rabbits turned into ghoulish things, the very thing of nightmares, earns Garouth entrance: the tables are swept away, the throbbing bass changes, and suddenly there's a carnival, a masquerade, and somewhere in so-many-masked glimpses is Leirith, stalking after the cold and the shadows in Garouth's mind with delight. She wuffles at the bonk, some kind of misplaced affection, but does as bid by rider and dragon both. « Well of course she doesn't fear me. She is the fiercest seeing-eye minion there is! » But the gold's curiosity (and apparent desire to not grasp the very clear difference between 'fear' and 'respect') has her turning away from thoughts of her lifemate and back to Garouth's. « What makes your so strong? Is it you? » And oh, how noble. If Risali is at all bothered by D'lei's gentlemanly displays of self-sacrifice (I mean this with the utmost sarcasm available), she doesn't show it. In fact, there's a moment when grey eyes fix on his hands and the meat there-in, amusement etched in the way her brows draw up and her lips curl, but she says nothing. She simply takes the proffered meat and does the dirty work; she'd have been doing it anyway, right? Right. At the tail-end of D'lei's silence comes a laugh (low, breathy, gone as quick as it's come only to linger in her words), and despite the lack of personal connection, or even being past the introductory period of acquaintance, Risali leans sideways to bump D'lei (very gently) with her shoulder. It's good natured, as though she's known him much longer than it took for him to startle her during a gold-feeding, and for her dragon to stumble into his bronze. "Do you want to talk about it?" she offers then, because 'He thinks so,' and, 'Maybe,' and, 'Kith was. Marzoth maybe wasn't,' are all very cryptic retellings that Risali definitely doesn't understand.

Garouth brings dancers of his own, shadow-puppets in ghoulish shapes and swirling robes that prove to be animated by nothing more than wind. The ghosts and goblins of the autumn forest, come to join the party! …and while they may be spooky - and those claws and teeth are most assuredly real - they're only here to dance and party. So what if the red adorning some of them is blood? They're nice monsters. For now, anyhow. « Not me. » he answers. « If he had not been strong, I would not have chosen him. » Garouth looks to the riders, gaze settling on… Risali, mostly, but also D'lei. « He kept trying. His body was weak, but he had the will to continue. That is how I knew he was strong. » Even if he's not willing to risk extra bonus dragon bites right now. There are limits! Getting his hands meaty is enough, for now. The shoulder bump makes him look directly at her, and… he laughs. "Shards, I'm sorry. This must sound like total nonsense, right?" He grins. "Whether I want to or not, you should at least have a clue what's going on. So… uh." Where to begin? "Kith's his sister. They were arguing, and then he pounced on her to demand hugs. Which… okay, on the one hand, rude, but on the other hand, given they were fighting about whether he was paying enough attention to her…" Yeah, D'lei really has a hard time blaming his dragon for that one. Or feeling bad about it, apparently.

Leirith doesn't seem to mind; on the contrary, her dancers move around macabre invaders, whisking them away to dance, to hunt, offering them a place to hide their wrongness in a crowd of faceless revelers. « Is his body weak still? » Risali's answering smile to the laughter is fleeting, but sincere, most of her attention - understandably - on the wellbeing of her TEN DIGITS. "You don't owe me anything, least of all an explanation. Whatever happened is your business." A pause, and grey eyes shift as another smile pulls, as sincere and fleeting as the first. "But thank you for sharing." And Risali listens, despite the fact that she's intent on not becoming an amputee, brows furrowed in thought while Leirith distracts and dances with Garouth in the meeting of their minds. "Ah - he doesn't really seem… the affectionate type." This coming from what Leirith shares with her (AKA: EVERYTHING), but Risali doesn't comment further, focusing instead on the topic. "I take it she wasn't very pleased with his hugs?"

Now festival-goers dance with goblins, feathers and shadows swirling together with seeming heedlessness to their disparities. They mingle, and… who came from where again? Which dark corner was that, originally? Who knows! « Not anymore. » An ape-monster gambols through the crowd. « He became stronger. » That brutish monkey-thing is swept up on the shoulders of another, beating his chest to show his strength before they swirl off into the dance once more. D'lei just shrugs for the lack of requirement. He's bad at secrets, okay? This is also for his own benefit of not having to keep any. The description of Garouth makes him heh, though, looking up to his bronze. "He… can be. In his way." Such as it is. He waggles a meat-holding hand in equivocation at her interpretation. "She was and she wasn't. Like, she clawed at him, but she also didn't tell him to stop." Another glance to Garouth, and a thoughtful look. "She's been happier with him ever since, too. So I think… it was a surprise but she was also glad once she got over that?" A look back to Risali, like asking if this even makes sense as a set of feelings for a dragon that she doesn't even know to purportedly have.

But isn't that the point of a masq? To be who you are not, to mingle in anonymity, to leave others wondering where you belong and where your beginnings truly began. The crowd clears for the monster, then falls in on him with dance when he displays his power on the shoulders of others. « Well, » comes Leirith, amusement changing the masks of her dancers to silly caricatures of the monster's in Garouth's mind, « that was a boring story. » But again, the tiny queen is all upbeat tones, no sarcasm or ill-intention to be found in her mindvoice. « Maybe mine can teach yours how to be a real badass. And then you can come to our party! We'll have food, and music, and so many ugly people that yours will definitely look handsome next to one of them. So will mine! And if that fails, we will get them this… stuff. » Booze? BOOZE. That is definitely booze. Risali has the good grace to look mortified by Leirith, assuming that Garouth likely shares everything with him in the same way that Leirith shares with her - but she doesn't comment on it. Instead, she's just taking more of that meat with a fleeting look at D'lei when his attention is on her, and then there's a laugh for his troubles. "He's handsome." Because that is clearly an appropriate response to kindness, and then a flicker of mischief as she rolls her shoulder. Does it make sense? Probably. It might make even more sense one day, but she's in the dark - for now. "Is Kith your 'mates?" Look at her just making assumptions, because it sounds like the dragons spend a lot of time together and MAYBE IT ISN'T A LEAP, OKAY. Grey eyes are back on Leirith, to guide her. At least she seems to be getting sated.

Definitely a dance party, and not at all a swarm of ghouls or hungry wolves descending to eat the ape if he's not strong enough. Nope! This is Leirith's festival, and the monsters howl with laughter at their faces shown back to them as masks. « So many are. » Garouth's not hurt in the slightest, the monsters gamboling merrily as he listens… « Ha. That is why we are here. » Shadow-puppets form on the nearest wall, flickering shapes. « I chased the moon » who is apparently also a dragon, according to the shadow puppet theatre « and lost. » Another dragon sweeps her away! Not him at all. TRAGIC. « I fought him, but he won and banished me. Now I will become stronger, so that when I return I can defeat him. » ..or at least that's the plan as it stands in Garouth's head. Humans may not agree with this, and indeed, D'lei is giving his bronze a somewhat dubious look. Which Garouth ignores. « When I do… it can be a victory party. » And who doesn't love a hero? Nobody, that's who! It's like an automatic plus one thousand to charisma. D'lei turns his gaze back to Risali at her laugh, with an arch of his brows. Does /she/ make sense? …maybe. There's a moment of surprise at her conclusion about Kith, but then he nods. "Yeah. The two of them were close even before that, though." At least, before it was official! Though who's surprised that people who weren't together yet still spent time together? "Anyhow, if that had been all, it'd be fine. Buuut… Marzoth." A frown. "He came in and went to drag Garouth away, and… Garouth went after him with tooth and claw." Which does, at least if one assumes it was mutual, explain the larger of the healing injuries on that brindled hide.

Leirith is amusement again at his agreement, though the little queen watches the puppet show with a sudden stillness, the revelers watching, Leirith somewhere within the crowd, hiding in her own mask, dancing behind figure after figure to peer over their shoulders as the tale unfolds. She's the only movement in so much stillness, and then suddenly they're all dancing again, heedless of the monsters among them. « Boring, » Leirith tells him again, with a sigh despite her up-beat amusement. « Why would you chase the moon? Maybe you should become strong enough that the moon chases you. » Whatever that means. CRYPTIC BABY DRAGON SPEAK FOR THINGS SHE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND. « And definitely a party. I am trying to convince mine that we need to set this place on fire! It would be the biggest bonfire! Nobody would miss it, and everybody would come, and who doesn't like a party? » Does she sound sleepy? SHE FEELS SLEEPY, but she fights it, turning away from Risali's next offer of meat so that the weyrling allows it to plop wetly back in the bucket, attention on D'lei once more. This time, there's muted emotion, a quiet kind of sympathy that softens the smile on her lips and the stormy hue of her eyes. "This must be hard on the both of you, being sent to another weyr." Because Risali's unaware of the full extent of his punishment; but they're moving on, and Risali's wincing as she sneaks another glance at Garouth, rubbing at her brows with the back of a hand again in an effort not to smear her face with gore. Or her hair. "Faranth," she breathes, because no other words can adequately express what she imagines that must've been like. "And then, let me guess: they sent you here?" She may have heard the last of it from Leirith, but WHO IS EVEN PAYING ATTENTION TO THAT? "For how long?

« It was more interesting when it happened. » But Garouth does not share any details beyond those shadow-puppets. Baby dragons do not get those memories! They get to continue to think flights are super boring right up until they discover why they're not. He considers Leirith's perfectly reasonable except for having no clue inversion seriously enough - well, as seriously as a consideration can be amid music and dancers and dappling shadows - then laughs, a rumble of thunder that competes with the bass and sends a scattering of shimmering raindrops down to splash the party. « Because I enjoy the chase. » Now he does share a memory, but it's not of flights - just of him flying through the forest, chasing after a fleeing deer with the half-visible shadows of wolves and monsters making up his hunter's pack. He lifts his head to observe the ceiling, looking up to it before turning his head back to Leirith. « People would be angry. » His tone is matter of fact, unworried by it. « They would ask why, and yell, because they expect things to remain as they are and not be turned to fire. » So unreasonable, and yet… there it is! True facts. D'lei… sighs, with a look down and away to… Leirith's feet, how about that. "Yeah. It's… /he's/ supposed to learn how to behave. /I'm/ supposed to keep him out of trouble. We're here until… I don't know, they're convinced we've learned our lesson?" A shrug, as he looks back up to her with a wry smile. "Nobody said, exactly. Maybe they'll let us graduate with the rest of you." If he's lucky. And they pass all their required exams.

« That's what they all say, » Leirith quips, but it's lacking malice. This is just… her. The laughter has the little gold rustling against the bronze's side, shifting until she's resting her maw against his forepaw, covered-eyes unable to be seen, but assuredly the color of contentment. Garouth's memory is bled into, until Leirith's dancers are there, making the rhythmic motions of bodies and chase one, joining in with the monsters and the wolves of his pack with just as much abandon in their delight - though they fall back, fall behind, as her mind becomes sluggish and the struggle to keep up combats with her need to rest. Ahh, to be a baby dragon. « They'll be angry first! And then they will be excited. Either way, they will be yelling. » And it's there in the back of Garouth's mind, the echo of her name on a cheer, the acceptance, the friendships, the need to belong despite her own strength. « But they will be dancing too. » Risali's looking down at her tunic and then giving up any hope of keeping herself clean, wiping her hands off on the bottom of it as grey eyes jump back to D'lei's face and study the man while he speaks. When he looks back up at her with that wry smile, Risali answers with a smile of her own and leans, shoulder bumping him again. "It will be okay. You'll have the advantage, after all, and maybe Garouth can help all of the younger dragons learn while you help us, so you can both feel important." Think of it as a corporate job! Travel to teach! "And before you know it, it will be time to go home, and you'll get to see your 'mate, and Garouth will hopefully keep his claws and his teeth to himself." Did she just give a look to the dragon? She did. But it's tempered by amusement and the ghost of a smile as Leirith abandons them all for sleep. But the queen is not quiet even then, still projecting as she sleeps, those glimpses of dancers, now joined by Garouth's nightmarish shadows and… fish? Definitely fish. "Are you hungry? I want to take a bath while she sleeps, and you can get settled in, then we can talk some more over a meal?" Because if her grumbling stomach doesn't tell you that she needs food as well, the way she's pushing to her feet and gathering new clothes with haste just might. Or maybe that's just her desire to finish stated desires before her queen wakes up again.

« But I said it best. » It's amusement behind those words, not arrogance. Garouth is hardly going to back down from an implied challenge! The only winning move is… to play. He extends his tattered wing, letting it drape over Leirith like a soft blanket as she rests against him. Full bellies lead to sleep! And once those wolves and monsters have caught their prey, they'll return with full bellies of their own, ready for somnolence. « Very much yelling, » he agrees. « Everyone will know your name. » But for what, that is in fact the question! Well, one of them. The echoes of her name call out, bouncing back twisted through various emotions and tones. So many possibilities! And Leirith in all of them. D'lei hehs to Risali, leaning back to her bump. "Yeah, you're probably right. As long as he doesn't teach them bad behavior instead…" Garouth does not even see that stern look, nope. And even if he did, he is the picture of sweetness, cuddling a baby while she sleeps. …okay, yes, there may be ghastly creatures frolicking in her dreams, maybe even a few moray eels and sharks to go with the fish, but those can be cuddly too. Poor unloved uncuddled fangfish! "….I could eat," D'lei agrees as she goes for the fresh clothes. "I'll grab us something and bring it back here? That way you have one less reason to rush." A glance to the dreaming Leirith, and past her the Garouth who seems perfectly content to just rest there with her. At least, for now.

Leirith doesn't respond - at least not coherently. Her dreams do, delighting in the distant echo of her name, reveling in the companionship of nightmares amid her dancers, but the gold slumbers, content, Garouth her temporary companion in sleep both physically and mentally while Risali moves. The smile she gives D'lei from her busy work is devious at best, the dark haired woman's nose wrinkling in amused approval as she breathes, "There's always the Queens if they get out of hand." Which should be some comfort, right? Right! But then she's sneaking around D'lei and edging around the dragons both, nodding her concession for the plan as she backs out of the door way and nearly falls in her haste. "Thank you," she tells him, and she means it, making her way out with haste to bathe, so that she can come back and enjoy some food, and some conversation with a stranger for the night! Well, or until Leirith wakes up anyway. Whatever comes first.

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