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Vesresh had heard a lot of things about the recent flight. It wasn't exactly a subject for children, but young ears heard many things, especially when such things involved upheaval and change and were spoken of nearly everywhere he went. His foster parents had their views on the situation, as did his sisters, and some of the children in the classes and the creche.

There were lots of views, but what young Esre could determine was that there was a lot of unhappiness going around: a blue had flown a queen and people were very unhappy. Gold Sereth had tried to interfere, and people were very unhappy. They were electing a weyrleader, too, and people were unhappy about that too? Vesresh wasn't sure, but he did not like the tension that was sizzling through the Weyr.

Tension and change in general was very uncomfortable to Esre. He had only just become settled, only just started to ease in and adapt to the new versions of the teaching songs and the things he was expected, as a lad of 11 turns, to know, Only just come to terms with the fact that he would never see home – as his home had been – ever again.

The thought of more upheaval scared him and, with his sister's so angry about Sereth's interference, he didn't think he could go to them or their dragons for comfort.

Which meant that he couldn't tell them where he was going. It was an odd choice, to be sure, to go to the Gold's weyr, but Vesresh felt as though he needed to go and reassure his... friend? Artistic subject? Leader? Ally-person? That it was okay, that he still thought she was beautiful...

Or something.

Honestly, he really just wanted to say hi, and with every step he took towards their weyr, he wondered if that was really important. Suppose someone saw him? Did he really have to go and talk to Nersha? He didn't did he? He was sure lots of other people, more important than he was, were talking to her.

But would they be saying nice things? He didn't think they would: an awful lot of people were upset about the whole affair. He was almost glad he wasn't standing in this clutch, or anywhere near it. It was all too heavy for him.

He stopped, not too far away from Nersha's weyr. He shouldn't be doing this, he realized, his sisters would be mad at him, and he could get in trouble. Maybe he should just go back to the creche or something...

Vesresh fidgeted with his sketchbook and charcoal and looked nervously around. Nobody had seen him... He still had time to go back...

… And now he had been seen, and he couldn't escape from what he had come here to do. Somehow, having escape-and-hide-in-the-creche no longer be an option made him more... relaxed? Vesresh wondered if that was normal. Either way, he found himself able to give Nersha a smile.

“Hi...” he said, a little shyly, as he walked up to the door, “Can I come in?” he asked, “Its all right if I can't, I mean...” he glanced around, hoping by the first egg that his sisters wouldn't find out he was here.

“I just wanted to come by and show you my new sketches...” He loosened his death-hug on his sketchbook, “And...” he looked up at her, hoping that he wouldn't get in trouble. The thought that she might not be happy about him dropping by had just occurred to him, and the stress he had thought had been laid by the wayside returned. “I wanted to make sure you and Sereth were... doing all right...”

Since he had asked, and then had been invited in, that meant he was welcome, which was a relief. There was still a sense that he wasn't supposed to be here, but...

Well, being welcome was something, and it was worth a lot to him. “Yes, please!” he said definitively to the offer of tea. He did like tea. Honestly, he would have liked anything she cared to offer to him.

He smiled in return – another relief. The thought that he could be of any help at all... he blushed a little. “Thats... I'm glad I can help...” He took a proffered seat and set his sketchbook down on the table, smoothing the pages. He was already nearly a quarter of the way through its pages, a testimony to just how much he used it to ease his unease in the half turn – or more – he had been here. Some of the things that filled the pages were quick gesture sketches and practice doodles, others were more complicated sketches he had done over time, and that he went back to sometimes to improve on them. They varied from real to imagined, and there were not an insignificant number of dragons in it. Quite a few of his sister's bronzes, of course, and a few others, but sketches of Sereth outnumbered any of the other dragons. In his book, she was still Queen.

Of course, there were people in it too, though detailed attempts at faces – and bodies and hands – were recent for Vesresh, and he wasn't sure how good he was at them yet. As Nersha got the tea out, he flipped to one of his latest ones – of her, of course. It wasn't done yet, but he'd sketched it out the last time he'd visited, and he'd been working on it, and he did want her approval on his progress.

This was what they normally did when he dropped by, or at least close enough that the routine of it eased his nerves.