It's evening, nice enough weather outside since it's spring. All the same, M'noq has been in the library for several hours, consulting several thick and boring-looking tomes, comparing them to a map he has laid out. He's settled at what has become his usual table lately, for anyone who makes it a habit of coming into the library this time of day. At the moment, he is scribbling notations notations on a smaller copy of the same map, and heavily annotating the margins, to the point where to anyone else it might be questionably legible.

Yes, it's a lovely evening, but, as always, now there is work to be done. A certain red-haired Serval wingsecond has made her way to the archive library. Keelie has two books, of regular hardcover size, tucked under her arm and walks right up to the return desk. One she leaves for the librarian, the other she renews, tucking into a hidden pocket of her riding jacket for safe keeping. She turns, her brown gaze lingering on the tree, lips curving into a smile, and then spots M'noq at his table. She tilts her head thoughtfully, watching him a moment, as if considering if she ought to interrupt him. Apparently she decides that she should because she walks up to him, peeking around his shoulder at his notes. "Hi, M'noq." A pause. A slight smile - but is it sweetness or sadness? "When did you last take a break?" She asks, nodding towards all of that work on the table.

It's that familiar voice that catches M'noq's attention, cutting through all of the thoughts he is trying to juggle and work through. He almost looks startled as he looks up, then he breaks into a surprised smile. "Keelie. Or, should I say, Serval Wingsecond." He stops short of a salute, though. "It has been ages since I've seen you, though I've heard about the good work you've been doing." Or maybe he has seen her from far off, as the wings are working, but they haven't had an actual conversation for a while. His handwriting is very small but quite legible. Still, not so easy to read from a distance. If Keelie manages to decipher his notes, she will notice references to mines on the Northern Continent.

Keelie's own smile widens when he smiles. M'noq probably knows she appreciates that he didn't salute. She might have been tempted to hit him with her hidden library book. "Thank you, Lynx Wingleader." She's called him that before tho, in passing, and a congrats conversation. "No purple pillows this time, though." She remembers the last time she made wingsecond. "Or buggy sandwiches." She speaks lightly, teasingly. Keelie can read his handwriting, although it's a bit difficult from this angle. She'll lean forward for a better look. "I hope you are taking breaks. It is not good for you to work so much." She still worries.

M'noq laughs as the old memories are brought up. "Wow, I'd almost forgotten. I hope the weyr you're in now is less buggy than that old one." He still thinks it was a trick on purpose that all the weyrlings were given the worst possible weyrs as senior weyrlings. "Of course. This is a break," he insists, grinning. "Otherwise I'd have to be out doing PT or in a meeting or something just as awful. This is how I relax." Keelie likely remembers this isn't exactly what he used to do to relax, but maybe it's as close as he gets to relaxing now. "How's Serval treating you?"

"Much less buggy, thank you." Keelie rolls her eyes. "Although I do miss the ship weyr." That slipped out - she was trying to say it lightly, but the way her breath catches afterwards, and the way she looks at him, shows that maybe it isn't so light. "And I do not like caves." She reminds him. "But what I have will do." Another, more exaggerated eyeroll for this being a break. She sends him a stern look, which he probably remembers too. "Take breaks." A thoughtful pause. "Serval is alright." She taps her hidden book, which sticks out like a rectangle. "I am learning how to be a proper leader. I do not want to let Rielle down."

M'noq can't say much about the ship weyr, as their parting happened some time ago. Any worry he had about the emotion in her voice evaporates, though, when she scolds him in that familiar way. "Fine, fine. I'll take breaks. I'll head out to the living cavern and get some klah, directly after I finish this page." No promises about how long that's going to take, though. "I'm sure you will be a great asset to Rielle. You were an excellent wingsecond when we were weyrlings, and I'm sure that hasn't changed."

Keelie presses her lips together, looking worried. She meant the scolding to be teasing, to show that she cares, but that last one didn't come out that way. "Sorry," she says, when he promises. "Thank you." She smiles slightly. "I hope you are right. I — M'noq. I miss you. Talking to you. You are a good wingleader too."

"No worries. And thank you," M'noq says, though he ducks his head a bit, looking embarrassed. "I… I miss you too. I can still be here for you, you know, as a friend." That sounds super awkward as he says it, but the situation as a whole is awkward. As he fidgets with his pen, it flies out of his fingers and lands some unknown place on the floor, probably. "Uh… hang on." He slides out of his chair and ducks under the table, looking for his lost pen.

Keelie presses her lips together again, partially chewing on her lip. She nods a bit to the idea of being friends, and smiles as he drops the pen, giggling a bit. She steps back and leans over, pausing, as if considering if she ought to help, or if that might make things more awkward. Better to stay standing. "Are you ok? Did you find it? Should I call in your wingseconds?"

"Ow!" M'noq says, whacking his head on the underside of the table. "I mean, no, don't worry about it. N'lim is probably busy losing my correspondence." M'noq doesn't have a very good wingsecond. Or at least, he's not very good at the duties he ends up being assigned to do. "Shells, I could have sworn I heard it hit the floor somewhere around here. Maybe over by those shelves?" At this point, he might as well consider it a lost cause and ask for a new pen. At least if he did call N'lim in here, the man could probably provide him with a replacement pen.

Keelie visibly winches when he whacks his head, tilting her head sympathetically for all of this. She glances towards the shelves, but they are kind of far. She'll go over and offer him a hand-up at least. "I am sorry I made you lose your pen." She looks sincere, and she is. Maybe the library has spare pens?

M'noq does pop up after a moment, accepting Keelie's offer of a hand up. "Not your fault, and not that big a deal. Though it was my favorite pen." He sighs a little. "I guess this means I really do need to take a break now." He starts gathering up his things. "Well, sometimes pens get lost. Maybe it's an excuse to get a new pen. Or an excuse to pester his wingsecond. "Do you want to get a cup of klah with me? I'd love to hear more about what you've been up to." That way maybe they can get around all the smalltalk and loose pens.

M'noq will probably find a new pen on his desk in the morning, next to a seashell. They might not be weyrmates anymore, but Keelie still cares for him a lot. And she's caring like that. "Yes, you do." She will take him up on the offer to poke a bit of a tease on taking a break, although this time it definitely sounds like teasing, as she helps him sort out his hides. She will also have a smile and nod to getting some klah and catching up. There might even be pie - Myz would probably say it's the best food to have after awkward conversations, and the loss of a significant pen. "I want to hear about you too."

Quickly enough, M'noq's things get gathered up, books are put back for the librarians to reshelve, and the Lynxrider's notes are tucked away in his satchel. "Hey, you know my stories are all pretty boring. 'Can neither confirm nor deny' and all that." There are a few people who will call him on things like that, but that doesn't mean they get the full story either. "Though, I do have a story about how that pen saved my life," he says. Definitely, his favorite pen, and he will miss it if it doesn't turn up again. So the two brownriders will make their way to the living cavern for klah and cookies and probably pie, with interesting conversation and good memories for the evening.