It's early. It's really damn cold for it being in the desert. It doesn't seem to be preventing Rakouzo from doing his morning jog, though, his boots crunching slightly as one foot proceeds the other. He's keeping a sedate pace - fast enough to keep himself warm, though slow enough not to strain himself. There's a bit of color in his cheeks from the brisk morning air, as well as the physical exertion. He's in the zone. That is, until a tiny gold fire lizard, who had been winging along behind him discreetly, decides to half-collide half-land on him and start squeaking insistently. Rakouzo huffs out a breath, "Cava! Calm down." He slows to a stop, reaching back to disentangle the little gold from his clothing, the little fire lizard burbling contentedly at the contact.

A young blue dragon touches down in the middle of the bowl, landing a bit clumsily with some audible griping from his rider. "Ozzeth… I asked you *not* to do that." The man complains in a grumpy tone, slipping down to the ground. He immediately wraps his arms tightly across his chest, teeth chattering slightly as he gazes around the area. "I really don't think this is the right place." The rider himself definitely appears out of place. He's wearing riding leathers, gloves, and a knit hat, but his face shows a deep tan from warmer, sunnier climates. The knot on his shoulder also denotes Southern Weyr, which could be a bigger hint he's not an Igen native. His brown eyes track the jogger that's paused to disentangle the gold firelizard and after moment's thought he starts in that direction, "Excuse me! Do you have a minute?"

It's a bit like trying to remove something sticky - Rakouzo delicately peels a portion of the gold away from his clothes, only to notice another claw has dug into the cloth. By this point, it seems the gold is playing a game with the young man. "Oh for the love of Faranth," he sighs with exasperation, "I won't be able to feed you if you're clinging to my back, Cava." That seems to be the magic words, at least, as the gold crawls up to settle on the man's shoulder, huddling against his neck and digging talons into the thick padding of his jacket. Rakouzo looks like he's just about to open his mouth to say something else, when he rapidly closes it at the sudden arrival of a blue and a rather out of place rider. It takes him a split second to remember to salute - even though he's been a candidate for a while, that just doesn't come naturally to him, "I have as many minutes as you require, sir." He pauses and then grins wide, "As long as the minutes don't add up to too many hours - I have chores to attend to." He pauses and ventures, "You're not from around here, eh?"

D'ean will return the salute, then reach to pull off his hat. He barely has any hair to cover his head, just that fuzz that grows in after one has recently shaved. He reaches to rub at his temples briefly, sniffing against some congestion. "Good morning to you sir." He answers with a wry smile. "No, definitely not from around here." He shivers as a gust of wind blows down into the bowl and tugs that hat back on. "This is as cold as Southern Barrier. Anyway… the living caverns?" He asks, glancing around at the various tunnels that lead to places unknown. "I told a wingmate I'd drop something off for their friend." He glances back at Rakouzo, looking him over, "Candidate?"

Rakouzo digs about in his pockets a moment and manages to pull a small scrap of dried meat. He holds this out to the little gold to keep her occupied for the moment and also to prevent her from continuing that nonstop burbling. "Candidate," he confirms, lifting the tail of his gold fire lizard to display the white knot pinned askew on his jacket shoulder. "If you don't like the cold, you chose an odd time to visit," he quips with a flash of a grin, "I do admit it's sharding freezing at the moment." He jerks a thumb in the direction of the living caverns, "Bit towards the central bowl. You veered a bit northward." Sticking his hands in his pockets to keep them warm, he arches a brow, "I can lead the way if you're unsure - wouldn't want to be responsible for allowing a rider to getting lost and freezing due to poor directions."

D'ean laughs, "Yeeeah, well. I didn't expect it to be *this* cold. It's a desert. Kind of misleading." He comments in a wry tone. "I'm meeting a crafter in a bit, so my wingmate capitalized on the fact I was already heading this way." He looks where Rakouzo points, then looks back at the man, "Actually, I'll be honest, I'm suffering a *brutal* hangover. If it's not too much trouble to show me I'd really appreciate it. I'd hate to wander into the middle of a weyrleader meeting or something by accident and create a diplomatic incident and all of that." Please don't judge Southern on this bluerider. He glances to make sure his dragon is content where he's settling, "I'm D'ean, by the way. That's Ozzeth."

Rakouzo lets out a rumble of a laugh, deep and resonant, at the mention of a hangover. "Don't worry, man - I used to be a bartender before I got snatched up as a candidate. I know /all/ about the hangover. Ah - the stories I could tell." He grins a bit, toothy and wide, at the sudden flash of memories. "It shouldn't be a problem. And besides - fresh klah is probably already up and brewing in the living caverns. Perfect hangover cure." he says in a bright tone, his grin still in place. Making sure his gold fire lizard is still settled, he gestures and starts to walk, "I'm Rakouzo. Nice to meet you both." He casts a sidelong glance at D'ean, "Deserts are tricky that way. Come back in the summer and see how hot this place can be. All I hear about Southern is that it's damned humid."

There's genuine relief when Rakouzo rolls with the hangover. D'ean grins, nodding. "I'm not one to drink to excess, normally, but the circumstances were… ah… unique." He doesn't elaborate, but there's a hint of a grin. "Fresh klah sounds amazing. So amazing." The man brings an arm up to muffle a sneeze, then starts following after Rakouzo. "Oh yeah, it's humid. It's really hot, too, though. Spend five minutes outside and you'll feel like you were in a sauna for an hour. So do you know Leevi? He's another candidate here."

Rakouzo digs out another bit of dried meat to stuff into the gold fire lizard's open maw, though he's quick to shove his hand back into the warmth of his pocket when finished. "Leevi," he repeats thoughtfully and then gives a slight nod, "I think I've heard the name tossed around - there are so many of us, though. Not sure if I've met the guy face to face. You know him?" His brows go up a bit at the sneeze and he subtly takes a few steps to get a buffer zone in-between himself and the bluerider, "You can't have gotten sick already from being here 5 minutes? You alright?" He trails off and jerks his head in the direction of the living caverns, "Klah'll do you good, no matter what. Just have o try not to drink it so fast that your scald your tongue off." He grins widely, "You been a rider long?"

"Yeah, he's kind of seeing my sister? I don't know what all is going on with that, but he got searched and brought here. He's a healer." D'ean explains of Leevi, waving a hand as if it's not that important if the other man doesn't know him. "Huh? Oh, I'm not sick, just stuffed up from the cold air. I don't think you grasp how different the weather is in Southern right now. We're in the middle of summer down there." He picks up the pace though, so they can get in to warmer temperatures all the fast. "Not too long. We were in the last group of weyrlings that trained up. You from Igen, or searched from somewhere else?"

Rakouzo blinks once or twice and gives a faint whistle, "Shards - snatched away from a girlfriend. Hopefully your sister's taking it alright?" He casts a sidelong glance at D'ean, then slowly grins, "Unless you disapproved of the relationship? Then maybe him being snatched away here is for the best. Especially if he impresses." He inclines his head and chuckles, "No disrespect to your sister and all. I have several sisters myself, so I understand." D'ean is given an appraising look at the excuse and then nods, "Guess th shock of weather changes could do that. Hopefully the klah will help." He picks up the pace, too, eager for the warmth of the living caverns now that what warmth he had built up from his jog has dissipated, "I'm a Trader - my parents have a shop in the bazaar here. I've kinda grown up on the outskirts of the Weyr here. My family is not one to move around, even if we are Traders." He flashes a grin, "You originally from Southern area?"

D'ean just shrugs, "Yeah, I guess she's okay. I try not to get too involved. She doesn't like it when I 'meddle' in her affairs." He says, smirking again. As they cross the central bowl and move indoors, the rider looks around curiously, perhaps to compare the layout of the place to his own home weyr. "She's a rider too, so she could come visit him anyway if she wanted to. I don't really like the guy, but I guess I'm kind of getting used to him? You know how it is then, if you have sisters too. You try to help and get chewed out. You leave things alone? You get chewed out." He's smiling though, so obviously it's not a terrible hardship. "Oh yeah? Traders? That's cool. So you didn't have to uproot everything when you got searched. That's convenient. I'm originally from Telgar, but was living at Southern Barrier at the time."

Rakouzo exhales a sigh of relief at the sudden warmth of the living cavern and reaches up to unbutton his jacket, revealing the tunic underneath. The motion causes the little gold on his shoulder to stir, twittering and burbling with intense excitement at the sudden change of scenery. "Shush," he says, tapping the little gold lightly on the tip of her muzzle and quickly sticking more dried meat in her open maw, "You've seen this sharding place so many times already." He shakes his head in exasperation and then turns back to D'ean, "I've got all sisters. And they're all younger sisters. The whining, the screaming, the yelling - all of that. It's actually nice to be out on my own." He pauses briefly on his way over to the pots of klah, "Though - shards - there are probably even more girls in the candidates now, considering the gold egg on the sands. Guess I'm just used to it." He grabs a mug and pours out some steaming klah into it and holds it out to D'ean, "Not sure if you take sweetener or anything - I'll let you handle that. I messed up someone's klah before and that shit gets ugly. Never again. /Never again/." Once D'ean takes the mug, he'll pour himself one, "And yeah. Guess it's good to not be so far from home. But also bad, as my mother can still be in distance to scream at me about accepting being a candidate and throw the passive guilt at how much extra work I'm giving her for not being there." He grins wryly, "Tlatoani aren't too thrilled about Search."

Once they're inside, D'ean lets out a sigh of relief. "This is better already." The man says, though he's still looking a little rough around the edges. His eyes are tinged with red and he definitely appears tired. "I have two older brothers, and just the one sister. She's alright, though. We both impressed from the same clutch so that was kind of neat. Ozzeth drives her Orie crazy. It's hilarious." He reaches to take the mug of klah in gloved hands, smiling. "This is just fine. Thank you." He blows on it, then takes a careful sip. There's another sigh, and an 'mmmm'. D'ean gives Rakouza a grin then, lowering his voice, "When I was weyrling, I regularly got klah for the instructors and the other weyrlings in the morning. Then I ended up as wingleader for the weyrlings. Pro tip." He says with a grin. "Learn how your teachers like their klah." He glances around, then moves to sit down at the nearest table, putting down the klah so he can tug off his gloves and hat. He leaves the coat on for now. "I suppose there's that. My family is all down at Southern Barrier, but they didn't really guilt me or anything. They were happy that I got searched. What's… tlat-o-whatever?" Sorry Rakouzo.

Rakouzo dumps a few spoonfuls of sweetener into his klah, along with a slight dose of cream. Scooping up a spoon, he stirs the mug as he follows D'ean towards the table, the gold fire lizard on his shoulder swaying happily from side to side with every step. "Oh," he blinks and then gives a bark of laughter at D'ean's pronunciation of the word, "Sorry, man, I had forgotten you aren't from around here." He slides easily into his seat across from the bluerider and takes a quick sip of the warm liquid, letting out a sigh, "Tlatoani is the name of my Trader family. We all have names around here. Usually most people know 'Tlatoani' when they hear it - I guess we're kind of a big deal in some circles." He pauses to take another few sips of warming liquid and sighs, "Klah is almost like a drug for some - which is why it's best not to screw it up. I'm quite good at mixing drinks, overall, but if someone likes their klah a specific way - Faranth help them if you put one spoonful of sweetener too many or forget to add the cream before pouring in the klah." He gives a snort and then eyes D'ean again, "You really do look like shit, sorry to say. You should ask for a rest when you get back to Southern or something."

"Aaaah. Like the Zingari? I've heard of them." D'ean says with a grin, as if that somehow makes him 'cultured' for knowing the one term. "Good to have connections, though. My family are all miners, so … not so well-known." Another wry smile. He has another sip of his drink, "I don't really care if mine is sweetened or not, as long as it's fresh. I'm not too picky." When the other fellow points out how bad he looks the rider just laughs. "Yeeeeah. *Way* too much liquor yesterday. It was all I could do to drag myself out of bed this morning. Today *is* a rest day, but I promised a smith here that'd I'd fly her out to look at some ruins out in the desert. It's really important to her so I don't want to let her down. I'll just get to bed early tonight when I get back. So are you excited about standing?"

Rakouzo points a finger at D'ean and gives a wide grin, "Yes. Like the Zingari. Correct. Though our dancing skills leave much to be desired. And I'm pretty sure my singing would scare more people off than it would inspire." His grin widens a little and he takes another swig of klah, exhaling his breath afterwards in a sigh of contentment. He wiggles his hand from side to side at the standing question, "Excited, nervous, unsure. All those emotions wrapped into one. With my family as tense as they are about this situation, I'm sure either impressing or being left standing will give me an interesting aftermath." He gives a snort of a laugh, "I'm sure my mother is going to try to push some woman on me if I'm left standing to try to marry me off to make me ineligible for it next time. She's a bit devious." He eyes D'ean's head for a moment, perhaps just noticing the state of his hair, "Do they make you shave your head when you impress, or is that a Southern style?"

D'ean finally looks to be warming up, relaxing from that tense, huddled posture as the klah slowly works it's magic. "Yeah, the Zingari girl was dancing. I had never seen dancing like that before. It was different." He nods as Rakouzo talks about his concerns, "That all makes sense. If you don't impress this time, though, I'd try again. It's pretty great… being a rider." He says. "I love it." D'ean, the poster child for dragon-riding. When Rakouzo asks about his hair (or lack of), the rider hesitates. "Oooooh. I don't know if I should say anything." He murmurs, eying the candidate before glancing around. "Fuck it, you have a right to know." The man sets down his mug and leans forward, lowering his voice, "So I don't know how things are done here in Igen, but *right* after you impress down at Southern, they shave your head. Man or woman, boy or girl, doesn't matter. Chop, it's gone. Then, you're forced to *keep* your head shaved the entire time you're a weyrling, and for the first turn after. If anyone that's higher rank than you needs something? Snap snap, hop to it. You can't say no. Especially if it's a weyrlingmaster. A'idan's the one that cuts the hair, he giggles the whole time he does it. He's one of the assistant weyrlingmasters. All of that is part of the reason I make sure I take on lots of transport jobs to get away from the weyr. The reason I was drinking yesterday was to celebrate that I'm finally past all that. Can grow my hair out now." He says, gesturing to the soft fuzz that's growing in.

Rakouzo subconsciously brings a hand to his hair, wincing in sympathy, "Shit. That'll be hard to stomach if it happens the same way here. Especially in winter here - our heads would get sharding cold." He pauses, bringing ahand down to touch the mustache on his upper lip that's well groomed, "They do the same for facial hair? I spent so much sharding time growing this thing, it'd be a shame to start over." He mulls this potential over in his mind a bit, shaking his head sorrowfully, "I can see why he'd enjoy himself doing it if he had to go through it before - probably likes inflicting the same pain he got put on himself." He gives a snort and takes another sip of klah, "Congrats on finally being able to grow your hair out. Big milestone, it sounds like." He glances around at the rather barren living caverns - it's early and there are starting to be a trickle of people moving in. "Didn't you say you were meting someone here? Or are they coming later?"

D'ean sips his klah and gives Rakouzo a sad, solemn nod as he brings a hand up to his own hair. "Oh yeah. Mustache too." He informs in a sober tone. The man is quiet for a moment, then shakes his head, "Now I just feel bad. I'm kidding. Yeah, they do shave our heads when we impress, and while I'm pretty sure A'idan feels some sort of inner delight at doing it, he's really not a dick about it." He admits, grinning. "The rest is bullshit though. The reason my head is shaved right now is because … " There's a sigh, "It's kind of a long story. The short version is that a harper accidentally dyed my hair blue and A'idan was really ticked that I was walking around with blue hair and I had *kind* of played some pranks on him when I was a weyrling so he pulled rank and shaved it." When Rakouzo brings up that he's meeting someone he blinks, "Oh yeah! It's one of the cooks in the kitchen, I think he said." The man digs a small wrapped package out of his inside coat pocket. "For, Temi." He shakes it curiously but there's no rattle or otherwise so the man just sets it down.

Rakouzo snorts a quick laugh and lifts his mug in a bit of a salute to D'ean, "Nice bullshiting. Very impressive. You had me going." He quirks the tiniest of grins, "It'll still be horrible to even get my hair chopped off even once, though." He gives a short puff of a sigh, "At least it'll grow back - but slowly. A dragon ought to be worth it, though, judging by what I hear about them." The package is eyed thoughtfully and his mismatched eyes go to the kitchen entry, hmming thoughtfully, "The cooks are probably all rushing about in there like headless birds. Best to wait until the reakfast is completed before venturing in there. You may end up triggering their wrath. I wouldn't recommend that." This last bit is added in a solemn tone and a shake of his head. "But at least it's warm in there." He considers thoughtfully, "You planning on coming to watch the hatching when it starts?"

"Yeah, I really hate it. It looks so stupid when it's growing out because it's curly so it just gets all poofy.. and annoying." D'ean uses some technical terms there. "A'idan said he wanted to cut the blue off, but he *shaved* it." There's annoyance on his face, but he doesn't seem actually angry about it. "I have no idea if they shave everyone here or not. Ask a rider around here?" D'ean glances over towards the kitchens when Rakouzo looks that way, grinning. "Eh, even if I tick them off, it's not like this is my weyr." He takes up his mug again, drinking more deeply. "The hatching? No?… " He answers at first, "I mean, I suppose I could, now that I know two of the candidates. Yeah. Sure, I could try to be there if I'm not entrenched in other duties. What color ya hoping for?"

Rakouzo snorts a laugh at the thought of the poofy hair growing back, "At least it'll be easier to fit underneath a helmet? Though I imagine after taking the helmet off you'd get the worst helmet-head." He flashes a quick grin, all teeth and amusement, "Mine's only a little bit wavy and I get the annoyance." He sips slowly at his klah while contemplating the question, his other hand absently stroking the now-sleeping gold on his shoulder, "Honestly - I have no sharding idea. Perhaps anything but a green. I don't think I could handle a girl in my head for the rest of my life. I get enough of it with my sisters and mother." He makes a face, "At this point I'll be glad to make it off the sands intact. Color is an afterthought at this point." He scratches absently at his mustache a moment, "Did you want a blue when you stood?"

"It's really bad. You don't even know. I'll drop by and visit you in a few sevendays so you can witness the glorious tragedy that is my hair." D'ean promises, smirking. "When it's longer it just sort of works itself out. That in-between stage though…" He laughs when Rakouzo expresses an aversion to impressing a green. "Yeeeah, I'm not sure I'd want a green either." D'ean considers the question put back to him. "I… Honestly, I did not think I was going to impress at all. I didn't really feel like I was in the right headspace for it and … Yeah, I dunno. Ozzeth and I are a good fit, though. He's awesome. I wouldn't trade him for anything."

Rakouzo flashes another quick grin, "Probably difficult to say anything else when they're in your head. Not like it'd be possible to trade them, anyhow." He maintains a very easygoing posture and rolls his shoulder in a shrug, "I'm just going to roll with the punches. Take what comes my way. If I impress, I impress. If not, I try to dodge my mother." He trails off and frowns, glacing out the door and the light that it shows, "Shards. I need to get back to chores before they find out I'm late and make me run around the bowl again." He makes a face, knocks back the last of his klah and stands up, "Nice talking to you. Stay warm and try to get some rest - you /do/ look like death warmed over." He salutes with his empty mug and then starts to head out, buttoning his jacket up as he goes.