The Dining Cavern was filled with the laughter and chatter of a great number of weyrfolk and visitors. Sometimes you wonder why you don't seek the comfort of your own Lower Caverns room on such crowded, boisterous nights. Then again, it's the fun and entertainment that draws you out, as it does many of the people there.

That and your promise to Creglion to join him for dinner. You walk between the tables, your eyes searching for the lanky young man who invited you. Finally you see him sitting at one of the far tables and you begin to thread your way through the crowd. As you get closer, however, you notice that it's not Creglion you're looking at, but a young man who resembles him frighteningly.

"My friend! Thank Faranth you found us, I was just telling Eswaren that you'd have to have dragon's eyes to see through all this." Creg jumps up from his seat, a lopsided grin on his face as he throws his arms around you in a hug. "Sit, sit! Have a drink, talk, visit!" He follows this with a loud laugh as he slips back into his seat. You can immediately tell something by looking into his shimmering blue eyes...

...he's drunk... or getting very close.

You wave to Eswaren, who grins at your wryly from across the table. He seems like Creglion's twin, but you can tell the subtle differences between the two, though there aren't many. He waves back, then pushes a cup at you from across the table. "Follow my young brother's wishes, we've gotten out some of Benden's best this night." He talks levelly, despite the fact that Creglion always vouches that Eswaren drinks as much as he at any event.

"Dare I ask the occasion?" You grin as you lift the cup to your lips, smiling as the bubbles tickle your nose and your throat.

"Dear friend, this is quite an occasion!" Creglion is talking loud over the din of the room, though he is a bit more boisterous than needed. At your quizzical glance he gives you another grin. "Tonight, Creglion is no longer an Apprentice Vintner. He has thrown off the shackles that hold down his dearest brother and father," at this he turns his grin across the table at Eswaren, "and has become one of the few... the privileged... the-"

"Insufferable little Candidate's who swoon when dragons are near and bend to kiss a dragonrider's feet when they pass." Eswaren finishes his sentance, sitting back on the bench with a laugh.

Creglion straightens himself, throwing his shoulders back and trying to look over at his brother proudly... though he comes off looking like a drunken goof. "Reni, you are completely wrong. A Candidate's glance at a dragon is hopeful, and he doesn't bow to dragonrider's, he gazes in admiration."

Eswaren rolled his eyes, whether it was at the speech or at the nickname of 'Reni', it was unsure. But it was probably both. His retort, however, was cut short as a gold flit appeared above their heads and circled down to wrap her tail around Creglion's throat and settle on his shoulder.

"Dearest!" Creglion laughed, grabbing the flit's head in his hands and kisses her lightly on the cheek. She crooned, feeling the love from him. He laughed lightly, rubbing her eye-ridges. "My little queenie here is a sure sign of why I'm bound to Impress. I've proven myself worther for this little one, so why not a larger version?"

Eswaren laughed, shaking his head. "Brother, are you trying to tell us you intend to Impress a gold dragon?" Apparently, he was getting a bit tipsy as well.

Creglion chuckled, shaking his head. "No, brother. Only that I do plan to Impress. Alas, I shall have to divide my attention, but my little darling will never be neglected." He made kissing noices at Enki, which she returned with a spoiled hum of happiness.

"I swear, you act as if that little flit is going to be your wife one day. It's a shame you don't treat your mates with such affection!" Eswaren laughed, and this time you couldn't help but laugh as well. Creglion burst into a very unbecoming fit of giggles, and you edged his cup away from him inconspicuously.

"And why shouldn't I be proud of her? Out of all the Masters, Journeymen, and Apprentices in that room that day, she lept from father's arms and landed on *my* head! I felt more proud in that moment than any dragonrider!" He snickered lightly as a few dragonriders from the other tables turned to him with annoyed glances, then turned away in their own mutterings and chuckles.

You stand up slowly, shaking your head but not being able to hide a wry grin. "Alright, friend. It's time for you to go back to your room, Creglion." You take him under the shoulder and help him to his feet, which he seems rather unsteady on. Eswaren, still seated across the table, laughs and nods.

"I agree. It was nice to meet you." He turns to smile at you. "I look forward to seeing you during my visit, if Creglion here doesn't scare me so much that I run home for Turn's End. Besides, perhaps I'll enjoy my first visit to the Weyr." He gives you a wink, then takes his cup and wineskin and walks over to the adjoining table, where a flock of greenriders clear room for him to sit.

Creglion laughs as the two of you walk across the cold Weyr Bowl. Your jacket is secured around your throat, but he's either so used to it or so drunk that he can't tell the difference from the Dining Caverns, despite the fact he's not wearing anything but his tunic and breeches.

He stops you at some time during your crossing of the cold Bowl and points off to the side. You nod, and the two of you are soon walking into a large, empty-feeling cavern. You are surprised to find that Creg's bed, dresser, and small chest have already been placed into the weyr. None of his things are out, but there are warm rushes on the bed. "Welcome to my humble abode..." He falls into another fit of giggles as he collapses on his bed.

You lean against the doorway, noting that he's going to need a curtain to keep out the cold. "Well, Creg. Best of luck to you, my friend. I hope whatever Weyr was foolish enough to Search you can turn a decent dragonrider from you. Who knows, maybe a dragon can reform you and you'll learn not to drink so much to celebrate. Klah's not all that bad, you should try it sometime..." You trail off as you hear the soft sound of snoring from your drunken friend.

Shaking your head, you walk over and situate him under the covers. You grin down at him, then make your way out of the cold weyr and out into the colder Weyr Bowl. Shivering, you pull your jacket closer to you and promise yourself a few minutes around the large hearth in the Dining Cavern when you get back there. "By Faranth, Creg..." you mutter to yourself. "Couldn't you have gotten a weyr closer to the Cavern?"