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The whole Weyr was abuzz with activity, and it made it difficult for Kylerr to stay cooped up after dinner. His family assented freely, knowing how momentous a day was approaching and wanted to give him space.

Air. He definitely needed air. He headed down to the Bowl and let the gentle currents of evening air from the dragons above cool his face. He took perch on a large boulder, working his way up a couple smaller ones before settling in on the broad rock and its lingering warmth. Such an odd contrast, cool air and warm stone, but it was a comfortable one.

He pulled out his lute and strummed it idly, progressing through a couple familiar tunes, humming and looking around him. With the attention being pulled from his regular lessons and more focus on these Candidate ones, everything felt new and momentous. If he were to write a song here, now, about this, what details would he choose?

He saw many people bustling about with evening work, others out enjoying the air in discussion with their peers, and... someone who looks lost? He furrowed his brow and watched the boy amble his way around the bowl. He was a ways away, but he looked familiar from somewhere. Not from his harper's classes, and no one in the creche would pay the bowl itself that much attention. A visitor?

Ah, another Candidate. Probably from one of the holds, given the amount of his consideration the Bowl required. Yes, he remembered him now, from the event earlier.

Kylerr cupped a hand around his mouth. "Oy!" he called, waving his other arm toward him. "Hey there!"

"Not really," Kylerr said, smiling warmly, still strumming. It happened by itself. "You just looked a little lost. You were at the question-and-answer this afternoon, right? Welcome to Benden Wey- er, Wherhold." Still took some getting used to. Hopefully this visitor wouldn't take offense...

"Yep! And it seems you're wasting no time settling in. Pretty confident, are you?" he said in jest. "In fairness, it's a good idea, making use of the Bowl like that. You'd think they'd want to lessen the reliance on tithes that way. I wonder why they haven't yet."

Kylerr beamed. "I am!" he said proudly. "And I do. I'm Kylerr, by the way." He extended a hand. "You said you're a farmer... how far did you have to travel to get here?"

Kylerr laughed. "I'm sorry, just... it's amazing, isn't it? Having no idea how far away you are from somewhere. I guess going Between would be disorienting like that. I've never done it, but I've heard tale, obviously," he said showing the lute. "I guess I'll have to if I Impress, eh?"

"No, I've lived here my whole life," Kylerr said. "Haven't even traveled as far as Bitra. Been too much going on here to bother, I suppose."

He strummed a few chords, and then sang, to a common tune-

"Out from Bitra, Fadrin flew,
sudden cold to sudden blue.
Never lost, but wanting found
on Benden's fertile Hatching Ground."

"Well, I guess we would," he said. "Patrols and such. Hopefully always peaceful, but sometimes that's out of our control."

Kylerr grinned. "Somebody's got to," he said. "The old songs are great, but this isn't an old..." what would he even want to say here? "Well, this isn't an old Weyr anymore. This is something new. New history, new traditions, and with it comes a need for new songs."

"It has been a lot of violence, yes..." Kylerr said, trailing off. "Not much we can do about that now. Gotta make the most of what we have." He laughed at Fadrin's next remark, and tried not to stare too much at Fadrin's grin or the grooves and bulges of the farmhand's forearm as Fadrin raked his fingers back. He mentally slapped himself. Come on, now, Kylerr! Keep it together! He couldn't stop his own smile, though, so he diverted his gaze back down to his lute, letting a lock of hair fall forward and hide his face somewhat.

"Well, it can't be part of the narrative unless you don't become a rider, and no one wants that to happen," Kylerr said. "A shorter name means a shorter line, and then it won't sound right." He paused. "Being a part of the narrative, however, I guess that's up to you and your dragon. If you Impress one, of course. Then I'd have to give you your own melody instead of simply using an old one!"

Kylerr's eyes widened, the smile temporarily wiped away. Oh, you've gone and done it now, he thought. He shifted his eyes carefully back over at Fadrin's arm, and the strong tendons in his hand. He took a deep breath and looked back up at the sky. Maybe there was still something left lingering in the air from the Rising or something? He plastered the smile back on and tucked the hair back behind his ear.

"Oh, that? I'm not hiding it, the hair just kinda does that sometimes," he said happily, no hint of tremor in his voice. He was good, wasn't he?

His heart skipped at Fadrin drawing closer. He felt the warmth rising in his cheeks. He was glad to see Fadrin focused on the Bowl. "O-of course!" he said, inwardly cursing. Definitely something left in the air. It was the only explanation. "This is how we teach our history, and if the Wherhandlers are going to be successful and peace follows, it will be because their ideas will be taught at something other than swordpoint. And I can't write the hatching song until we know what comes of the riders, I guess. Their lives, their stories. And assuming I don't get mauled on the Sands," he added with nervous laughter.