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Impressed she had, for better or for worse. She got even less sleep now than she had as a candidate, often having to leave her bed in the middle of the night to feed her creeling bonded. It was in a barely-awake state that she happened to encounter the bronzerider, with Inannath cheerfully tagging along to get another feeding.

If she’d have been fully aware, she wouldn’t have taken that cup. But she was so tired that her normal reservations were nil. The klah was half-downed in moments, and she stared blearily over the rim of the mug as Inannath fidgeted by her feet. “Inannath couldn’t fill anyone’s hands if she tried.” She was greatly exaggerating, but the thought amused her even through the fog, causing her to smile faintly. Her dragon’s eyes were reddened with hunger as the green pressed her chin against Emori's thigh, begging to be fed. She bent down to offer her cup to the baby, but Inannath dismissed it with a draconic sneer after one sniff.

Emori let herself be directed to the kitchens, absently patting Inannath as the rumbling baby ambled along beside her, constantly insisting in mindspeak that she needed food, appreciating the pleasant draconic odor on S’kagi, and just generally commenting on everything her senses perceived. She only shut up when food was put before her nose, small pieces of meat that her rider offered by hand. The blessed silence lasted approximately three seconds, during which Emori fell asleep. She was crouched with her elbow on one knee, knuckles precariously supporting her chin, while Inannath hungrily licked the meat juices off of her other hand.

The tiny green greedily accepted the bronzerider’s offering, and the moment it was gone, she started nosing her sleeping rider again. Emori woke with a start and fell onto her backside. Instinctively, she leaped to her feet and brandished her fists at the first thing that looked like it could be dangerous. That happened to be S’kagi. It took her a few seconds to recognize him, and when she did, she sheepishly put her hands down by her sides. Inannath instantly returned to nudging and sniffing them again, reminding the girl that she had a dragonet to feed.

Emori was surprised at the comment about being punched, and cast a glance at the rider's face. She'd noticed his scars there before, but her curiosity was never really ramped up over them until just now. She didn't like to think that this man, whom she might have actually been coming to like, had done things that deserved such injury. It appeared not to bother him very much, judging by how he moved right back to the subject of dragon care.

"If you overfeed them... what? Do they die?" The thought horrified Emori, who was now mentally going back to every meal she'd given Inannath, wondering if she'd ever come close to hurting her bonded. The baby dragon was still creeling and looking for more to eat, but there was no way she was going to offer another piece of meat until she was sure no harm would come to Inannath.

"Just those few pieces..." Glancing down at her constantly hungry companion, Emori noticed the klah that S'kagi had left for her. It reminded her how tired she was, and she bent to pick it up. She drank some, then offered the bronzerider a small smile. "Thanks. I can't remember ever being this tired before."

Emori! Stop talking and give me sustenance! Inannath bawled, clawing at her rider's legs. I cannot subsist on words! The girl winced, frowning in dismay at the tears her dragon had put in her slacks. "Inannath, you're ruining my clothes!"

With noticeable relief, the girl indulged her dragon's demands, handing over chunks of meat as fast as Inannath could safely take them. As she fed the green, she listened to S'kagi's suggestions, nodding where appropriate. His experience was worth a lot more to her now than it had been during their pre-Impression conversation. She chuckled when he mentioned the necessity of adjusting sleep patterns, imagining herself in the middle of the crowded Weyr, fast asleep on her feet. The idea didn't seem too much of a stretch, considering the little nap she'd just had.

"Leather patches sound practical," she agreed. "If I ever get my nice clothes from home, I don't want them to get torn up the first time I wear them around Inannath." Her use of the word "home" was unconscious. It had yet to really sink in that she no longer belonged at her uncle's hold.