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The rigors of weyrlinghood had proven themselves a welcome challenge for an idle mind - sure, the hours were a drag, and there was no such thing as taking a break from one's livelihood (especially when that livelihood was connected to a living, breathing dragon), but the auspicious leg-up was more than worth it to Ichidou. She couldn't remember feeling this optimistic about her future, ever. And in Ursidaeth she had a loving, supportive partner. Another first - a remarkable track record, for having dwelt in these walls for a few short months.

Unfortunately, while the weyrling was improving her quality of life by leaps and bounds, the quality of her short-changed wardrobe continued to degrade. A rip here, from where Ursidaeth accidentally snagged his claw, a stain there from one of her brown's messier meals - and Faranth only knew when she'd singed that sleeve. All in all, no amount of toned muscle or healthy constitution could disguise how shabby her clothes were. Things were coming down to the wire; she was resorting to wearing the same trousers day in and day out, for lack of a better alternative.

Stubbornness, mixed with poorly channeled pride prevented the brown weyrling from seeking out the Headwoman for fresh replacements from the stores. Ursidaeth's attempts at persuasion had met with steely resistance, and the dragon had had no choice but to placate His by agreeing on her solution - she'd ask a seamstress to patch up those articles of clothing suffering lesser damage. She was stubborn, but not so stubborn as to simply ignore the dire status of her wardrobe.

Sighing noisily as Ichidou vacated the weyr, Ursidaeth stretched out on his couch and covertly peered into his Rider's mind, watching as unobtrusively as possible through her own eyes as the young woman wasted a good half candlemark hunting down one Bethany's quarters, yet again too proud to ask for directions. The brown was about to bemusedly inquire after her progress, just as Ichidou let out a very smug 'aha', and rapped smartly on the closed door. It was the middle of the day, she ought to be in.

Standing there before the closed door, Ichidou's mind had begun wandering as the slab of wood separating her from the cozy interior of Bethany's room stared impassively back at her. Inexplicably her thoughts turned towards her appearance - she'd specifically worn the best (meaning least damaged) clothes she had at hand, but certainly to a seamstress' trained eye she'd look like a wreck. As much as she'd criticized Onie over her preoccupation with appearances and as often as boasted about her own disregard towards said subject, she was as much a victim of self-doubt as the next person.

With a frown now marring her previously confident facade, she began due consideration over whether this had been a good idea after all. Swaying slightly in a subconscious expression of her uncertainty, Ichidou's eyes began wandering back down the hall in the direction from whence she'd come. Perhaps she ought to find some other solution. ...one that didn't involve allowing another person to see how embarrassed she actually was.

<< Don't do that, it's not nice to knock and run. >> Ursidaeth's words rolled through the young woman's mind, as a preliminary tremor before the quake. The brown wasn't, typically, the sort of dragon to chastise his rider simply because it was ineffective - under duress, however, Ursidaeth would use force if all involved served to gain from the experience. His would grumble and shoot a black look in his direction if it were a physically possible feat, but she always complied.

Such was the case now, although poor Bethany met with a most ugly scowl as she rose to open the door upon receiving no earlier response. Ichidou had been too busy arguing within the constructs of her own head to pay a lick of attention to the world outside. As the door swung away with no warning (so far as the weyrling was concerned), the scowl froze on her face in surprise, before it was wiped away with an indignant cough.

"I, uh, want - uh, need some help." Still trying to find her lost footing in the frame of mind she'd dwelt in before all her indecision began rearing its ugly head, the weyrling cautiously tread her way into the seamstress' domain, eying the steaming cups of klah while trying to word her request in such a way that she didn't seem like a complete leech. So far, it wasn't working. "...I can pay, a little."

The young woman's hesitancy extended towards even the benign seat which Bethany offered her. Warily eying the furniture as if expecting it to stir to life, Ichidou carefully picked her way over towards the seat and stiffly sat down, if only to appease the hostess. She didn't feel comfortable here, and it was obvious by the way she perched on the edge of her seat, eyes shifting constantly to her surroundings in a scan for hostiles.

It was such an alien environment, plush and decorative in comparison to her spartan quarters. The weyrling was on her guard, haplessly satiating the twinge in her gut. So preoccupied was she, in fact, that Bethany's first question slipped unheard past nervous ears, the second just loud enough to snag her attention - eyes snapping back to the forefront, Ichidou's face colored as she awkwardly scrounged in her pocket, her face looking absolutely bleak as the sparseness of her funds made itself abundantly clear. Just a few bits to scrape together, hardly enough to buy a stale crust for a starving beggar.

"...er, just a few patches." She didn't have nearly enough for just a single shirt, never mind an entire outfit. "Maybe if you could patch just one...or two, that's all I need." Ichidou was, and had been broke the moment she'd stepped foot in the Weyr. Abandoning her mother at the Hold had meant relinquishing ties to any funds she'd once had.

"If you could make them small?" The guilt she felt was evidenced by her hunched shoulders and greatly diminished voice, as she reluctantly pulled out one of her dingy shirts by way of presentation, lips twisted in a grimace as she glanced down at the frayed sleeves and stained collar. "Maybe...just one patch."