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"Just put up with it. And I want him back with all his limbs!" Had been the discussion, such as it was, when Kazvar had been saddled with the temporary 'care and feeding' as he put it, of an Candidate being punished.

...Anyway they claimed they were punishing the candidate. He still wasn't convinced someone wasn't doing this to punish -him- for some imagined wrong. All he needed was some child following him around babbling about how much they wanted that bond between themselves and a dragon, and how wonderful it would be, and weren't Wher's really kind of ugly... and...

RRRGH. He already had a pretty good mental picture in his head of what it was going to be like, and wasn't terribly happy about it.

This train of thought showed quite clearly on his face, which did, afterall, tend to display annoyance far better than any other given emotion, as he waited in the dining hall to meet the wayward candidate. He didn't intend to introduce him to Kazvask juuuust yet. Wait till dark. Give the little wherry a good scare.

It wasn't a candidate that popped up first but a green flit, excited and flashy, startling Kazvar out of the towering grump that he was working toward, and he raised a hand in surprise to ward it off, not quite sure at first what it was up to. Had the damn thing built a nest somewhere?

"Shards!" He cursed in surprise. Since he kept a similar schedule to his Watchwher, Flits and he rarely interacted, and this was one of the few times he'd run into them up close, though not too long ago he'd had a similar run in with a candidate, who's flit had decided to strike up 'conversation' with Kazvask.

"And you are?" He waved the apology off with something of the verbal equivalent to his reaction to the flit. To be fair, he'd heard green flits were about the dimmest in the glow basket, but he could have done without the enthusiastic greeting, which made him feel foolish for being surprised.

He wasn't sure if he hoped this was the 'Zeren' boy who'd been handed off to him or not, since it was a bit harder to seem like a towering beast if you could be startled into jumping by a little greet flit.

If he felt the slightest flicker of guilt at being involved in the visible pain the young boy felt, he did a very good job keeping it off his face, though his tone might have become the slightest bit more sympathetic.
"Firelizards come with a certain reputation for causing trouble." He offered. "Especially the greens."

He folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head slightly as he sized up the frustrated young man with curiosity. Not quite the dewey eyed, fair haired holder with stars in their eyes he'd pictured.
"Also you've found him. I'm Wherhandler Kazvar."

...Well. ... Huh.

So far he wasn't as annoyed with the young boy as he'd actually expected to be. No headache. No urge to start yelling ((or throttling...))

And most importantly, determination, instead of petulance or revulsion and boredom.

He liked that. There was a fine line between 'stubborn' and 'determined', and he was fairly confident in his own ability to read it, though he'd made his share of mistakes in it.

This one might actually manage to not drive him crazy.
Well... might. He wasn't going to count his flits before they hatched.

"How much sleep have you gotten?" he asked, now more determined to see how deep this boy's metal ran. He'd be safe enough in the company of both Kazvar and Kazvask, who would go further afield than his human partner, but that wouldn't make even a partial patrol any less unnerving.

Wherhandler sir yet. That was almost sort of laughable, he wasn't used to getting much respect from the candidates, save the ones who were secretly convinced that he fed Kazvask on the blood and flesh of those that failed to impress.

"Just Kazvar." He corrected. He never thought of himself as "Wherhandler Kazvar" Let alone "Wherhandler Kazvar sir", so the title felt klunky, like having some obnoxious snotty child from the creche attach to your ankle and drag along the floor, howling at you for... whatever snotty children howled about.

"You'll be joining Kazvask and I for at least part of our patrol. If you can't handle that comfortably, then we'll return you to the Wher and you can clean Kazvask's bedding instead." He raised an eyebrow as he added firmly. "Best you tell me if there's a problem. Better to clean out old straw than have someone out there who'll panic."

If he could handle it, they'd still need to clean out after Kazvask, but he'd be helping. No need to point that out yet though.

Kazvar took a second to absorb this information, nodding faintly, and added. "I'm getting a cup of Klah, then we'll go roust Kazvask. You can join me if you want. I know the candidates don't keep my hours."

This was probably the most sympathetic thing he'd said so far. He started to turn in the direction to do so, took two steps and then stopped just as abruptly, turning halfway on his heel. The intent wasn't actually to try and make the young man run into him but it wasn't exactly helpful either.

"I believe you." He added.

Kazvar did 'that thing' again, staring as though he were double checking that Zeren hadn't just exhibited signs of growing a second head, since, Son of a cousin humping wherry... the boy was sort of growing on him a bit.

Also apparently either his eyes were going or there were tiny flecks of blue in them. He'd seen something like it once, someone had shown him a piece of stone with tiny pieces of lapis in it. Far far too small to be cut for jewelry, it had been sort of lurking on the edges of his memory as 'interesting tidbits he'd seen'.

He started moving again before continuing, unapologetic over the near collision. Apparently the dim little green was good for something anyway.

"After Klah, he's still resting right now, but he'll be expecting us. Have you ever seen a Wher before?" Some traders kept them on, but not all, and he wondered how much the boy with his unexpectedly interesting eyes and enthusiasm to meet Kazvask actually knew.