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Slowly wakefulness encroached on the blissful nothingness. Swiftly followed by the dull throbbing headache of a post Flight hangover. Groggily the bronzerider reached out mentally, seeking the boneheaded beast that was the cause of his current sore head. Did you get her...? He thought at the slumbering presence in his throbbing mind. The sleepy disinterest revealed all that R'yer needed to know and he cursed softly. Or at least it was softly in his head, his voice cracked and broke in the real world, startling R'yer fully out of sleep, though he still felt like he was swimming up river through treacle. Gradually his senses returned and he realised that, firstly, he was in someone else's room, not his own, and secondly, they were still there... He could feel warmth to one side and the distinct pattern of regular breathing.

R'yer couldn't remember anything from the night before from about half-way through the flight. Korvath had been struggling and R'yer had done his duty as a loyal partner, giving himself over to his dragon. But apparently that had been a wasted effort and now.....

R'yer didn't want to look but morbid curiosity drew his head round. No matter how often Flights happened, the bronzerider had never quiet gotten used to waking up beside a perfect stranger and having to interact with them.. After all what did one do when you had apparently spent the night together, and yet don't recall any of it, and often didn’t even know their name...

The first thing he spotted was the long tail of a messy braid curling over the pillow beside his head. A rich dark brown that glinted in the early morning light. Unnerved, he followed the coil of braid where it trailed over a bare shoulder. A female shoulder. Unable to stop the low groan that threaded from between tightly pressed lips, R'yer pressed his arm across his eyes in frustration. Shading dragon. He breathed silently, hoping unto high heaven that he could escape the bed, and the room, without waking her. Thus avoiding the always awkward conversation of 'Sorry if that was awful, I'm gay and my dragon is a d**k.'

Rubbing his forehead on his forearm weakly he reluctantly rolled his head sideways to peek at the slumbering woman beside him again. Now, how to escape.....

R'yer carefully didn't move as the sleeping figure stirred, then woke and got up out of the admittedly rather comfortable bed. Only when she spoke, her tone even and not at all sressed, did R'yer uncover his face from under his arm and look up at her. He even managed a small smile, antisocial hermit that he tended to be, and finally sat up, the covers pooling over his lap. R'yer was a handsome enough man, with dark hair typically kept short and practical but that still managed to look somewhat spikey and messy this early. Dark eyes, shadowed as they were from the post-flight hangover, glanced over at her before dropping as he smothered a heavy yawn.

"Thanks..." He replied after a moment of sorting out his slugish thoughts. He had nearly gone with 'I'd imagine not', meaning that with how often greens rose, he could easily see how she would have experience, no matter the colour of her own dragon, randy weyrfolk was not unusual. But thankfully, his brain caught up to his words and put a stop to them, not wishing to possibly offend her any further. Instead, he slipped out of the other side of the bed and quickly hunted for his own clothing. Once he had located and pulled on his trousers and belt, he looked round for his shirt but couldn't see it.

"Umm... any chance you've seen my stuff?" He asked, risking another glance her way.