While being outside at night isn't much better than being outside during the day, it's still averaging a ten-degree difference, and Amani will take it. Curfew is drawing near, but there's a familiar pattern in play in the form of pushing until the last moment before returning. However, it's more the draconic half of the gold pair who's responsible now, with Amani having to explain the particular quirk that causes it to anyone who asks. Still, they haven't been actually late because of it. Amani sits perched upon the boundary between the bowl and training grounds, her lengthy lifemate right beside her with glowing emerald eyes turned skyward. Amani gazes up as well, quiet save for the occasional murmur. She's almost got the hang of speaking in her mind without including her mouth, though some words still slip every now and then.

Oh, there's always fun things to do at night, especially if you're used to wandering about at night; Ibrahim is all too comfortable amid the stars, aspiring seafarer that he is. The stars are of great use tracking through the savannah as well as across the sea — but sometimes, one just wants to watch. And from here, near the Training Grounds, one can see a whole lot without everyone stopping to chat. But wait, here's Amani, out with her young queen. Ibrahim hesitates, not wanting to disturb the pair, or get them in trouble by coming too near.

Zymuraith doesn't notice anyone approaching, engrossed as she is in her stargazing. But it's clear she isn't simply looking at them because they're beautiful; she studies them, her shimmering head glinting subtly in what frail illumination the night offers as it tilts this way and then, after a time, the other way. Amani, however, catches movement out of the corner of her eye and looks down, blinking to better make out who comes near. "Ibrahim?" she ventures, a grin appearing as she unfolds crossed arms and slips from her perch. She's certain it's him, even in the dark. His hair is rather distinctive, after all.

"'Tis I, fair lady." Ibrahim intones in his best, most ridiculous fairy tale voice, sweeping Amani a silly bow as he comes close enough to be properly identified. THe little queen gets a second, longer look, his gaze picking out the details of her appearance with an appreciation for beauty: the starshine of her hide, the elegance of her form. "Well, she's a good looking young dragon." He's never seen them this small, or this close up: usually, he's only seen them flying or sunning or whatever, wrapped up in their lives and having little to do with a mere human like himself. "Saw you Impress her." His tone is soft, and a little awed. "What's it like?"

There's something in Amania's reaction to Ibrahim's presence that sees Zymuraith's eyes shifting to an amber-green as she looks back down at the newcomer, curious. It doesn't appear to be anything bad however, as Amani's grin only grows in light of the man's bow, a soft bit of a giggle sneaking out as well. Zymuraith rises and pads closer, her nose drawing close as she gently whuffles for his scent and peers up at him with intrigued assessment. She rumbles softly as Amani conveys Ibrahim's comment. "Zymuraith," she says aloud for his benefit, "this is Ibrahim. Ibrahim, meet Zymuraith." There's another smile, warm, probably accompanied by a blush beyond the shadows as Ibrahim relates his presence at the Hatching. As for his last, she has to take a moment to think. "Nothing like I could have imagined," she replies initially, giving a little shake of her head. "Our minds are together, always, even though we're learning to hold them apart when we need to. And the way she shows herself when she's speak, in my head…" She taps her temple, gently. "We hear each other think, feel each other's hunger and pain and happiness. It's like…" Actually, she can't really say what it's like, because it's truly like nothing else. "Imagine if your heart suddenly knew itself, and woke up to take council with your head. She's my heart." A descriptor that sees Zymuraith's eyes whirling a brilliant sapphire as she turns her head to nuzzle at Amani before returning her attention to Ibrahim once more.

Oh, but there's her nose — fully longer than he is tall, most likely — getting awfully close to his body. And are her eyes changing color? He looks almost worried for a moment, eying the dragon as she snuffles at him. The stories are hard to live down, even when he knows they're false. Dragons don't eat people. As Amani relates her story, he gazes at her in stark fascination, trying to relate to what goes on in her head, now she's Impressed. "I can't imagine that…" He admits after a long moment's trying, and his little lizard squeaks from his shoulder, reassured by a rub across his back. "… it must be a lot. But good."

Zymuraith's nose is big, comparatively, though not quite that long yet. Still, she's a little more than twice as long as they both are tall, and seeming to add another foot per day. "It is a lot," Amani affirms, but laughs a bit, the sound edged in bewilderment. "And it's really not something I can put into words well. She might show you sometime, just a little, if she decides to say hello instead of just this. But she's still sort of shy." Despite being completely willing to learn his scent. When Ibrahim's firelizard squeaks, Zymuraith blinks up at the tiny bronze, letting the firelight of her bonfire warm carefully, crackling in a friendly manner as the comforting scent of wood smoke mingled with caramel drifts by - simple imagery, soothing. "I'm glad you were there," Amani says. "It was hard for me to spot anyone up there. And once the shells started cracking, I pretty much forgot about the crowd."

She's big enough for a man who hasn't been up close and personal with any of the adult dragons about. But still, since she seems relatively friendly, Ibrahim will venture a greeting. "Uh. Do I just tell her hi, or…" What does one do when presented with a dragon? Merlin squeaks again, leaning toward the gold and beginning to chirp happily at her. Hello, large cousin. The imagery is definitely calming him. "Well, I did promise, you know." He grins at Amani, and then shrugs affably. "And I wanted to know right away."

The way Zymuraith handles Ibrahim's little bronze elicits a broad grin from Amani, who utters a soft, "Well done!" to her lifemate and rubs a hand between her headknobs. Learning a lighter touch has been a goal they'd decided to set not too long ago. "I remember," Amani says of his promise, dipping her chin for a moment in a manner that practically betrays her blush despite the darkness. As for the matter of greeting… "You greet her as you would anyone," she tells him, "though she'll take a nose-rub, too. Most people wouldn't take kindly to those." She can't quite keep that little addendum deadpan, a smirk lifting the corner of full lips. "They're just as smart as us, really. But their memories aren't as good. The forget faster the smaller they are."

"Good." And also very good to know that Amani still blushes easily. It restores some of his equilibrium, lending him confidence to offer the queen a gentle, "Hello." He hesitantly reaches out a hand, though by now he's definitely sure she isn't going to bite him — but she really is more than he's used to, poor Jungle kid that he is. He does chuckle at the idea of trying to rub the nose of a human. "Hm. Shall I rub your nose to see if you like it?" He raises his eyebrows at her, playfully. Merlin flares his wings, chirps again, and flips them back over his back, satisfied with the exchange. "You're telling me…" Ibrahim sighs in a wry jest, remembering how difficult it's been to get his own little one to remember things he's just been taught. Though the bronze is mere days out of the shell, Ibrahim wants to be on top of keeping him under control.

That suggestion does nothing to rid Amani of her blush, and while her brows hike before an impending answer, she pauses as Zymuraith gives a little tilt of her head…and then laughs. "She just asked why it wouldn't feel good if it feels good to her…" And explanation about human versus draconic nose-rubs will have to be forthcoming soon, of course. Zymuraith presses her nose into Ibrahim's offered hand, a soft croon rolling up from her throat along with the gesture.

Oh, it's soft! Why Ibram is surprised is beyond him, but he is. But he rubs away anyway, willing to indulge the little queen in this. "Huh. Be interested in the answer…" He eyes Amani with amusement, enjoying her blushing. She really does do that a lot, and so easily he ift has to remind himself of how inexperienced she is. Doubly, now, he must take care, though, for through discreet questions, he's gotten quite the education in the matter of weyrlings and their dragons. He will not be the cause of upsetting this pair. There's too much at stake. Instead of more teasing, he now offers a more mundane question: "Are you getting on well? You are much happier now, thanks to this one." With a final pat, he reluctantly removes his hand. Zymuraith is hard to resist.

Yes, Zymuraith thinks she approves of the rubs from this one. When Ibrahim pulls his hand away, he sits back on her haunches, close enough to be touched once more but rather coyly leaving the temptation of warm, star-shimmering hide for him to give into again or not as he chooses and she allows. As to the matter of Amani's nose, she utters a scoff, a dark brow arching as she eyes the wildling man. "My nose only needs rubbing when it itches," she informs him, though smirks as she says it. "I guess…I do feel happier, yes," she replies, not having though of it in terms of happiness thus far. "Whole. We are getting on well, some days more challenging than others…but that's how life is when such a big change comes along." And Impressing Zymuraith has by far been the biggest and best change she's endured so far.

"She's good for you." Ibrahim definitely approves of her, just for supplying Amani with greater confidence than she's had before. He grins in amusement at Zymuraith who is so, SO tempting! But one must not overdo it, right? "Ha, mine either."And he wrinkles his playfully at Amani. "Ah, yes, I see." He has the barest inkling, with his little firelizard, of what she must mean. But it's not like a dragon, whom he still isn't sure about. But time, it's moving along. Reluctant, he'll make the suggestion. "I don't want to get you in trouble, or anything… but can I visit you again? I should let you go, before your curfew."

It's not as though Zymuraith was going to remind Amani about the time. She'd stay out with her eyes turned toward the stars until she falls asleep, if Amani weren't strict about getting back before they're in trouble. Except Amani hasn't really been paying attention this time and is grateful that Ibrahim brings up the need to part ways, even if she's just as reluctant. "Of course," she answers with a broad smile. "Things are going to get more regimented for us soon, I think, but it would be good to see you again, whenever we have a moment."

Thrilled to know he's welcome even though free time eill be more limited, Ibrahim will offer another sweeping, silly bow to them both, grinning like a fool. "Until we meet again, fair maidens!" he promises in his most proper Lordling voice, hard pressed not to laugh.

Amani, however, does laugh, with Zymuraith uttering an amused rumble as she rises from sitting. "Goodnight, Ibrahim," she counters with a smirk and, turning away, walks with Zymuraith back from just beyond the training grounds to the sanctuary of weyrling barracks. And once more, they aren't late…if by only a handful of minutes.