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"Ha! I'd hope not, the last thing anyone needs are more hardasses getting into the Wings," Okassis laughed loudly, clapping the Weyrling on the shoulder. Still chuckling, he informed C'miel in an auspicious voice, "For Impression, the Vintnermaster recommends his excellent '24 Benden." Glancing at the stern-looking Lurenith at the end of the table, the youth grinned and informed the dragonet, "You can't have any, you're too young."

Despite what S'en figures was in some way a personal success, he very much wants to be anywhere but at the celebratory feast, where he knows many others are undoubtedly in attendance. Too many others. He's never been particularly sociable, and the newborn dragonet at his knee has done absolutely nothing to make him feel less averse to the thought of throngs of people. The idea sounds nothing even vaguely resembling appealing. It actually seems more like a boiling pot for his tired irritation to stew in; never mind it should be a happy occasion. He's good at turning the auspicious into something miserable.

Except that, just a few moments ago, the very same newborn very gently reminded him his siblings would also be in attendance. And then, with more force, stated he would very much like to meet them. S'en could tell this was more of a statement he would meet them than it was a request. He briefly considered protest. Then his stomach seemed to force his mind into remembering feasts meant food even more than they meant people, and though little Kanath was content and fed, he was not. He became suddenly aware he was nearly as hungry as the young bronze had been. Shard basic needs and their invariably inopportune timing… He should have grabbed something at dinner, like the sane and practical human being he usually is. Then he thought about just skipping eating and going hungry. Goodness knows one more missed meal wouldn't have been the one to do him in. But the piteous concern the prospect invoked in his lifemate made him think better of it.

He may be callous, but he's not so insensitive he'd intentionally, needlessly worry Kanath. Yes, he has a soft spot already. No, he doesn't intend to share it with nor show it to anyone but his bronze.

So, here they are, just approaching the edge of the bowl. The… well, S'en supposes they're festivities, are visible even from over here. He can feel a pit of displeasure forming in his stomach, contesting his hunger for purchase. Kanath tells him the glows look pleasant, and the food smells good, even though he no longer feels like he's starved. S'en gives the dragonet a look that can be described only as flat, but Kanath doesn't warrant it more than the same caring, steadily whirling gaze he's had all this time.

A moment passes between them; him just standing there, staring at the crowd as though intimidated (… as though he's one to feel intimidated by anything), and Kanath dividing his attention between His and the interesting goings-on. The dragonet seems, as usual, content to wait while his sorts out… Well, whatever it is causing S'en's reluctant frustration. He knows only that he doesn't like it, else he'd try and say something supportive. He sends fond, hopefully reassuring feelings instead.

The irony in his being comforted by a just-hatched baby dragon is not lost on him, and while he can't say he appreciates the gesture (the sentiment is less offensive), he does nevertheless finally move forward. Probably only to appease Kanath. His path is not an outgoing one, however; S'en remains rather singlemindedly focused on food, and the way he tries ─ though easier said than done ─ to find the most vacant path of least resistance seems to say as much. First thing's first; pacing alongside him, rather poised and gracefully for one so young, Kanath seems momentarily accepting of his asocial demeanor. But just momentarily. The observant might notice he's taking a keen interest in absolutely everything, and watching carefully for his clutchmates.

"It's Klah." S'kagi said at once. "...I don't drink. No reflection on anyone that does, but I don't like myself drunk." More history there than he ever wanted to go into again, but there it was. "...No, Candiates will be able to stand until they're too old. How could we rightly turn them out if their dragon might be on the sand the next time? What if they aren't there for them?" He grimaced at the very thought. "Something will work out. I just don't have the authority or right to make the decision on what that something is." He grimaced slightly and looked curious. "What would you do? Give up on impressing? Go home? Or go to another Weyr?"

"Woah there, no need to get all excited," S'van drawled, catching the tumbling bluerider carefully. If he didn't, the poor kid might fall right onto Galliath, and then where would he be? S'van was almost positive that Gall was the sort of dragonet who made a fuss when he was injured. Probably not until then, but who knew? Setting H'dra to rights, the new weyrling shook his head.

"Not your fault, really. Gall sort of shoved me anyway. I think he's trying to get me to make friends, or else say hello to the friends I do have." Make friends, huh? This didn't seem at all like making friends. Poor lad. Looking the bluerider over quickly, S'van tried to decide if he had accidentally injured him. "You all right?"

See? It worked very well. You are not sulking anymore. No, but then again, he was a little busy trying to make up for his brown's outrageous behavior. He had a bit of a reputation for being clumsy, and it was well earned. It would seem, however, that he was not the only one who could take a fall at a Feast.

You're new?Jaereth's eyes flashed with amusement as he made an amused sound, looking beteen Nan and R'ael. I'm newer. Further amusement at this, that didn't make R'ael grin any less. She's nice. I like her.
"He says he likes you." R'ale added, turning red again. "And that he thinks your nice. He also said you smell nice. " He wasn't sure she nessisarily needed to know that, but he was apparently the acting translator between the two. "I can't beleive it happened. I mean I can, but I can't. I don't know!" he laughed in embarassment, rubbing the back of his neck. "And no one got hurt this time!" he added with releif. "What about you? How are you doing?"

Nandeli beamed at all the compliments. She was liked, nice, and smelled nice! Now that was more good things about her in one sentence than she usually got in one week! She hoped the blue wouldn't change his opinion on her anytime soon. It was nice not being viewed as nosy. "Aaaw, Jaereth you're so sweet! You're absolutely perfect for a sweetheart like R'ael."

Aaaw he was blushing! Tee hee. Nan nodded eagerly at his words, knowing from past experience that most Candidates couldn't believe they were so lucky. "It was a good Hatching for sure! No hurt Candidates and I know pretty much all the new Weyrlings! You Impressed, Sovann Impressed…" She continued down the list, ticking off people as she went. "I think it's a pretty good deal! And how am I doing? Great! I know everyone always says you have to be strong and hold yourself together, but I really don't think about it like that. I'm much happier when other people Impress, though I guess since I've never Impressed I can't say I have anything to compare it to. But maybe next time."

"I'm S'van, brown Galliath's rider. ... Or at least I will be when he's old enough to fly, anyway. Dievath sounds very friendly." Friendly in a way that Gall was not always, but then again, maybe it was all of the excitement that made the brown dragonet testy with firelizards and the like. "F'sey? I can't say that I've heard of him, but then again, I haven't met very many riders yet. He'll probably be along soon, don't you think?" The Feast had not been going on so long that stragglers weren't still showing up. In point of fact, S'van was one of those stragglers himself.

"What's the age when Candidates are too old, again?" He'd mutter distractedly under his breath, taking another swig of wine. And had he said klah? "Well, suppose that's all right... Just means more for me to make a fool out of myself with." He'd chuckle into his cup for a moment, then paused slightly at the mention. "...They'll go... Shards, uh, Between, is that right? If their rider isn't there for them?" Well, now, when it was put like that... "I don't have a clue." He admitted honestly, rubbing at the back of his head with his free hand. "Just don't know hardly anything about dragons and the like--never even really seen one, 'cept for when I was brought here." He'd never forget that day, no. "Musta sniffed out some potential..." Jiriar was a little too distracted to catch sight of S'van right away, frowning now at the lip of his glass.