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The emptiness of High Reaches seemed at once a blessing and a curse for K'ladan. While there were fewer eyes watching him and fewer tongues spitting command, there, too, were fewer of the people he liked best with whom to bide his time. It meant the stitch between his shoulders had eased just a hair only to be replaced with that idle loneliness an outgoing personality often suffered when there was too much empty time to fill.

Am I really such boring company?

The voice chimed with a false sense of hurt, rippling with playfulness as it nestled in the back of the Bronzerider's thoughts. An immediate smile tugged at his lips and the dreadhead snapped out of his brooding, just as his favorite Bronze had intended. His answer started with a swell of affection but was cut short by an unexpected call somewhere behind him.

Before K'ladan ever turned, he knew who he would see - there weren't many other riders in High Reaches that would call him out with such unabashed familiarity. The small smile on his lips that Razasith had spawned was already growing to a wide, smarmy grin by the time he locked eyes with one of the only men he knew that actually towered above him. Damn, but it was good to see a familiar face.

"Brooo!" he called back, pausing to let the larger man catch up to him, "I didn't realize you had stayed behind too." Once he was within reach, K'ladan clapped a wide hand on the other Bronzerider's back (mostly because it was too much effort to try and reach his shoulder) in a playful greeting. "My man, you know damn well I do."

R'shahar might not have noticed the way the lingering crowd spread to let him through, but K'ladan certainly did. He wasn't particularly unaccustomed to smaller people moving out of his way but when a mammoth of a man wanted to pass, bystanders certainly made the room instead of risking a clip of the shoulder. It kept an amused smile on his lips between the sight of it and the list of delicious treats his fellow bronzerider had gone out of his way to uncover.

"Hm?" One of his wide, dark palms was pressed against the leather work of his dublet and half of his thoughts lingered on how hungry he hadn't quite realized he was. The other half registered the question late, making the smile falter, though he caught in time.

"Hatchings just make me uneasy sometimes," all the time, "besides, someone's gotta stay behind other than you, eh?" A playful elbow nudged sideways at his large friend, careless with his strength for once because it didn't matter a lick with R'shahar. What might have sent another man hurling into a wall was like trying to move a mountain with him.

"I just want to drink some Benden wine, fill my belly, and enjoy my time before all the sulking candidates show back up to drown their sorrows in what's left of it."

K'ladan was contented in the silence that took them as they arrived and found their seat, letting the conversation lapse in favor of piling food onto his plate and securing a good mug of hot mulled wine to banish the worst of the winter chill that had settled into his bones. He had stuff a pastry whole into his mouth when R'shahar finally broke the peace.

"Mnnf," he attempted unintelligibly around an overlarge bite. An annoyed expression flashed over his face before he grabbed his wine and washed down a decent portion of the food on a gulp. One strong, broad hand wiped at his mouth.

"No, not really?" His hefty shoulders shrugged as he stuffed the pastry into his mouth, choosing this time to bite it in two at least. He chewed it thoughtfully for a second, swallowed, and then added, "Although there is a rather bothersome candidate I wouldn't mind not seeing back here. Have you heard about her? Claiming I'm her brother and all."

A rider had been the first to mention it to him and he, as an only child born and raised in the weyr, couldn't really wrap his mind around the idea that so many others seemed to believe the girl.

"I'm really not sure what her damn angle is."