[G] [C] 739.02.02 | Mission Orientated

N'mor had put it off for as long as he could forseeability get away with it. His little sister had not been particularly impressed when he had shown up at Telgar and accidentally let slip that he had had her bag of clothing for over a month already. She's huffed and tutted but none the less demanded he upend the bag on her bed so she could sort through the wonderful new additions to her wardrobe. While the clothing R'dare's mother made wasn't quite on par with the clothing Amorandii was currently wearing, Amorandii viewed it as if it were a great gift, and she gushed her gratitude which N'mor promised he would pass on to the woman when he next saw her. He hadn't yet thanked her for the clothing he'd received – and was currently wearing – and figured it was another reason he should be in Telgar. Even if he didn't want to be.

Following him back out to his dragon, Amorandii danced forward to pat the bronze beast, who put up with her affections with a flat look at N'mor, who hid a smile behind his hand. His dragon wasn't the most grateful of creatures, but he did enjoy Amorandii's love and affections, even if he put up a solid appearance to putting up with her. “Who is that for?” The little girl asked suspiciously, pointing at a smaller bag that was attached to Rhezalth's side. N'mor rolled his eyes, and stepped forward, pushing his little sister and her grabby  hands away. “Not for you. Shoo. I have to get up to the Weyr.” Pouting at him, Amorandii flounced back inside while N'mor mounted up and had Rhezalth leap into the hair, the pair turning towards the Weyr proper and quickly entering its sky space, bellowing a greeting to the Watch dragon.

Let Dad know we'll drop by shortly, N'mor instructed, even as he guided Rhezalth towards the common grounds so they could land and he could ask for directions on where he needed to go. Looking for an escape route? Rhezalth teased, and N'mor rolled his eyes, but didn't disagree. Nothing wrong with an exit strategy! he smirked, sliding off the bronze dragon who snorted and tossed his head before ambling off to curl up in the shade. He would have liked to go swimming in the lake, but it looked like it was occupied and he wasn't in the mood to socialise. I'll take you to the beach back home later today, okay? Very well, but his pleasure was hard to miss.

Smiling and shaking his head slightly, N'mor entered the Weyr lower caverns and sought out someone who looked like they knew what was going on around the place. He would have preferred to avoid the gossip mongers, but he didn't really have a whole lot of options; it was her or asking one of his friends. At least the gossip monger wouldn't ask questions, she'd just make all the wrong assumptions. Smiling charmingly, N'mor asked about the woman's day, laughing cheerfully at her teasing responses, before asking where he could find his friends, going out of his way to throw in a few stray classmates before adding in the query about Z'rin. He nodded seriously as she listed off where their various weyrs were located, and thanked her politely, giving her a light kiss to the cheek for her time. He smirked smugly to Rhezalth when the old lady blushed and tittered before wandering off. Hopefully she'd be so obsessed about the charming young bronzerider who kissed her she wouldn't babble about how he was asking after old classmates.

Making his way through the corridors, N'mor ran into a few people he knew and exchanged casual greetings, but otherwise wasn't delayed overly much as he finally found his way to Z'rin's door. Frowning slightly, N'mor stepped forward and put the small bag of clothing at his feet before knocking solidly on the wood three times. Then he picked the bag back up, and waited. Since he'd sent Z'rin on his way some six months ago, N'mor hadn't realised the clothing was left in his weyr right away. When he had seen it, he'd sighed dramatically before putting it aside to wash. It hadn't been much issue to add it to his pile at the end of the week and get it done, but it had since been sitting in one corner of his room, neatly folded and a glaring reminder of the errand he had to run, but had constantly been putting off.

In a way, he decided as he waited, it was kind of more embarrassing to be standing there six months later than it would have been if he'd brought them back a few days later. Whatever, he was a busy guy (not really) and had a lot to do (hardly true) and barely visited Telgar that much (what a lie). Go to sleep you impossible lump! He may have been blushing.