After only two days in Prebovna Nikolas concluded that he didn't like thinking over his words. He didn't care what Erwing had to say over the matter. It was near impossible to find a topic that Ardich liked, the boy refused to talk about anything other than what was happening right in front of them. Then again it wasn't like Nikolas had plenty of experience in making polite talk with anyone that wasn't there to do business with Brytha. Ardich didn't seem the sort to talk about weather patterns, or complain about how lazy one's horses and drivers were, or about what sort of things he was bringing home to his family. So they sat there in a very awkward silence until Nikolas decided to speak up, because the last thing he wanted to spend his evening doing was to watch Tino snoring.

He didn't want to look too closely at Ardich. Firstly it would be very odd to do so, and secondly he did have a look at Ardich when the other boy had helped Tino into his seat and gestured for Nikolas to join him in the next chair. What he saw made him want to ask more questions than he knew would be sensible to do. Ardich was wearing the Tsarina's symbol, that was true, so he was either a trainee or employed by the Royal Rytsars. But what puzzled Nikolas was the things he wore under his tunic that was revealed only briefly when the other boy swiftly adjusted his sleeves.

Nikolas knew his animals, and knew the pelts that one could be used to trim sleeves for warmth and decoration. He'd thought that being at least employed with or by the Tsarina Ardich would have been provided with warm clothes but clearly that was not the case. The pattern of the pelt confused him. It didn't look like anything he knew at all, anything from Icfeld that is. But he wasn't a hunter, maybe you had elk or martens with such patterns.

He looked around, trying to find a topic to discuss, there was nothing more stomach churning than a table gone silent. The brawl was still going on, he could have asked what caused it all, but that was a one sentence answer at best or a shrug of ignorance at worst. If he knew any of the odds and ends that hung on the wall, he could go into great detail about them. That was how Brytha would start a conversation, complimenting someone's choice of decor even though she herself privately despised said object. Ardich stretched and yawned, putting his feet on top of the table. Then he cursed, because several things clattered to the floor, and he ducked under the table to gather the arrows that fell from his quiver.

"Let me help," said Nikolas and together they picked up the arrows. Some of them had not been fletched properly, or perhaps were a work in progress. "Are you… are you an archer?" Nikolas said curiously.

The feathers were not the usual white or grey, the ones you get from common birds like ducks or turkeys or maybe even geese if you were brave enough. No there was a vibrancy to the feathers, though it was a natural one the blues seemed to fade gracefully into a purple, or vice versa. They were very beautiful, a work of art by themselves, and not at all like the outlandish feathers Jaufre wore on his hat.

"Yes," said Ardich shortly, "Thank you." He took the arrows and put them neatly into his quiver. The quiver was placed on the table next to his feet.

If this was Aldeim's house in Befled Ardich would be leaving without the use of said feet, thought Nikolas. So Ardich was an archer, Nikolas mused. The only archers he knew in Befeld were the ones employed by the merchants to keep the local elk population at bay. Or was it bears? Either way he seized on the opportunity for a conversation. Not that he wanted to be friends with Ardich, not right away at least. Erwing had made it clear that he was no fan of Rystars with a capital R and Ardich would be one of them. Right now it was more important that Erwing knew Nikolas as a person before he decided to challenge the man's idea of what a Rystar was. After all, as Aldeim would say, it was easier to change one's opinion of a deeply held belief if it came from a friend.

"What do you think of all the animals here? I haven't seen so many… odd combinations before," he kept his eyes wide and nodded, hoping it sounded excited and friendly.

Ardich grunted, he took another long drink, this time a beer from a large mug he recently ordered. "I have no intentions of running a menagerie."

"Have you ever been to one?"

This made Ardich paused, and he put down his mug to stare at Nikolas. Then he took another drink, sloshed the beer around in his mouth before swallowing and said.

"I lived in... with all kinds of creatures, why would I ever want to pay and visit a properly curated one?"

"Really? Somewhere like Prebovna?"

Ardich's eyebrows furrowed, "Not quite like Prebovna. It's to the n— south. You probably haven't heard of it. Used to be quite a major hub for caravans until the oasis dried up." He trailed off and took another drink.

His mug must be surely empty by now, Nikolas thought, and twisted his hands nervously under the table. The implication was that Ardich didn't have the fondest of childhoods. It must have been an unusual one, Ardich was not a name from the south. He must have been with one of those traveling merchant families. It was always a risk that a merchant would be lost at sea or on their travels so sometimes they made the decision to bring their families along. Brytha he knew, was strongly against this, as was Aldeim.

'That is no stable place to raise families', his father had said, upon the merchant family's departure.

'When I have my own family I'll make sure to hire someone else to do the traveling,' Brytha had mused.

The two of them had shared a laugh that Nikolas had not been able to understand.

"Do you miss the heat?" Nikolas asked, at a lost of what to say. Not for the first time he wanted to be Brytha, he wanted to just have her way with words and the people would like her, and she would smile and know that she was just perfect at finding the right things to say.

Then he shook his head, furiously, because why did he want to make friends with Ardich that desperately? He was talking with Ardich only because Tino had introduced him to Nikolas and until Tino decided to wake up he had no one else to talk to. Unless he could find Erwing in this crowd and ask him if this is as good as an establishment as he'd declared.

"I do," said Ardich and Nikolas blinked.

"Really?"

"There's different kinds of heat," said Ardich. "There's the kind that sticks to your skin and it's all clammy, like sweating forever and never being able to stop. I don't like that. It was different though, this heat. All you really need to do is cover your face when you go out, and at night," he sighed deeply, staring into his empty cup. "At night the temperature falls, sometimes very low, but the times when it didn't you can go out and see thousands of stars, and hear the desert just turn alive, with all the creatures under the earth just burrowing up."

"Is that the menagerie then?"

"Yes," Ardich nodded his head. Then he cracked a smile, and it made him look less irritable. More friendly, more approachable, if Nikolas had to put a name to it, "They tasted nice as well, you can't eat animals in a curated menagerie or it'll be the lock up for you mister." Nikolas laughed and to his surprise, Ardich joined in. "Though I suppose you can eat rats. I don't advise it, they don't taste nice if all they've been feeding on are the scraps."

"Do you have any pets?" Nikolas asked, and deciding it must be one of those situations where one should volunteer information as well. "My family only ever had horses. Pets were impractical."

Not to mention they did have enough mouths to feed. Even if Viola or Sanna had wanted a kitten to pet and coo over, there were spells to get rid of vermin. A cat was an unnecessary expense. Even now he could hear Brytha's words in his ear. But he wasn't living under her roof now was he, if Nikolas wanted, and could feed an animal, then he ought to have one.

"I do," said Ardich and it was Nikolas who leaned forward this time.

"What is it?"

"A kotek," said Ardich, "but she's got a mind of her own. I can't make her come whenever I call her."

"She's not like the Prebovna koteks," Nikolas volunteered.

He was right in doing so for Ardich gave a disdainful sniff, "They aren't real koteks, real koteks are capricious. They are part cats and should act like it!" Here Ardich gave a bark of laughter, "The birds should be thanking their lucky feathers that it's not everyday a new kotek is born into the world. Think of all the nests they would destroy!"

"How are koteks born?"

"They have feathers, they lay eggs," said Ardich, and he took on the tone Nikolas recognized well enough, the one that said I know the topic better than you. "You saw the feathers on my arrows, they're from her."

"She lets you collect them?"

"No, she gave them to me because I asked nicely," said Ardich and he sounded very proud of himself.

"I may have met a kotek once," Nikolas mused, "but I never caught a glimpse of all the colors. They're very beautiful."

"You should say that to her," said Ardich, grinning. "Maybe she'll give you one, they're not all the same each time."

"Really, how?"

"I assume it's like fur. She sheds them every so often when I see her she's a different shade. Sometimes a different color. I think it depends on her mood but my— I have been told that as she ages her coloring would change."

"You don't want that," Nikolas said quietly. Maybe it was best he didn't have a pet after all.

"No," Ardich agreed. "I know... I know koteks don't live forever. None of us do, but she's been with me for so long I don't know what I would do if she decides not to show up. She is very clever about it you know, she always shows up whenever she thinks I need something."

"That is very fascinating," Nikolas agreed and decided to maybe revisit his idea of having a kotek. Jozin had said they could deliver letters. If he had one then he had a fool proof way of talking to Jozin. He shifted in his seat feeling the warm dragon scale against his skin.

"Not always. She brings me the oddest things sometimes. For some reason, though, I always would use it later."

"Like what?"

"A button. A... piece of charcoal. Flowers was too easy," he shook his head.

"Does she deliver letters as well?" Nikolas said, trying to adopt Tino's teasing tone.

There was a flash of something in Ardich's grey-blue eyes and he snapped out his next words, "Why—" he clenched his fist, then relaxed it, "sorry, I was just thinking of the last time I asked her to do so. She used to deliver letters for me, she did, but then one day she didn't do it anymore, no matter how much I asked or begged. I even tried to bribe her and she didn't move a muscle. I tried tying it to her body and ah, yes, I still have the marks from her claws."

"Maybe she doesn't like the feel of it in her mouth anymore?" Nikolas suggested, wondering how the previous kotek had held the package that was delivered to him. It wasn't wearing a knapsack, that he could recall. So he concluded it must have carried it in its mouth.

"Look, I've seen her carry the skeleton of a wolf-mouse, S- she maybe many things but she doesn't discern taste."

Then it occurred to Nikolas, as one of those intrusive thoughts that he knew he shouldn't say, was that Ardich's kotek must have sensed that the letters would not be appreciated by whoever it was the boy wanted it to be sent to. Poor Ardich, Nikolas mused, whatever did he do to make the kotek decide that delivering a letter wasn't worth its effort?