The girl just nods, turns, and is suddenly on Sylphid's back, through no visible effort.

"Tabitha," she introduces herself, and then Sylphid flaps and takes them both back into the air.

He looks for Scyelen. "Well, that was a little strange. Anyway, did you have fun?"

Small smile. "Yeah. Both of those."

"Good. Anything else you wanted to do right now? I think we should ask about my room soon, make sure there's still time to get it set up for tonight if it turns out there's some kind of problem."

Scyelen's mood takes a small dip at that, but she just nods and says, "Okay."

"We can talk about it, if you want. Later." And he gives her a hug and heads off to find someone suitable to ask.

Here is Siesta! She is hauling a cot and a chair down the hall outside Scyelen's dorm room, and into an unclaimed room nearby.

(Scyelen, who's trailed after Raafi this far, leaves him to it and disappears into her own room.)

"Here, let me help with that," he takes the cot, hefting it rather more easily than she was. "Are these going to my room?"

"I couldn't possibly oh well if you insist. Yes, this is the second room they assigned to Miss Scyelen right here, looks like you're right down the hall."

Inside the room is barren, but freshly swept and scrubbed, probably by Siesta herself. Apparently students mostly bring their own furniture and are allowed to customize their rooms significantly. Siesta sets the chair to one side and lets him place his cot where he may.

"The headmaster's new secretary donated these," she says of the cot and chair.

"If you see her you can tell her I appreciate it, thank you."

Siesta smiles at him, perky.

"If there's anything else you need, please let me know."

"I will. And don't worry about keeping it spotless in here, I'm not picky."

"Of course, sir," she says, like she's going to keep it spotless anyway.

She bows, and departs.

He goes back to look for Scyelen, and sits on the bed with her. "Well, I'll need furniture, but it's good enough for now."

"I guess it is," she agrees, sounding resigned. "Everyone's going to make fun of me."

"Some of them, yeah." This seems like it calls for an arm around her shoulder again; he does that. "There are always people out there who'll take an excuse to be cruel. That doesn't mean you've done something wrong."

Scyelen quivers a little at the hug. She doesn't blush this time, though. Maybe she's getting used to him, a little. Or maybe its how he keeps doing things that hurt her and she feels like now he owes her the hugs, a little bit, except that doesn't seem right either.

"I... don't think that's how it works," she says, focusing on his words.

"How does it work, do you think?"

"You can't just... give people excuses to be cruel, and say that's the same as doing nothing?"

"Sweetheart, there are some people who'll be cruel no matter what you do - they're not trying to stop you from doing things you shouldn't, they just like being cruel. And even if they are trying to stop you from doing something they think you shouldn't, sometimes people are wrong about that, and you'll end up making mistakes if you follow their rules."

"It's not the same," she mutters. "At all. I can't... I can't just... pretend like I'm not doing anything wrong when I am, even if it isn't my fault..."

He scooches a little closer and gives her a squeeze. "We aren't doing anything wrong, though. We're doing something they aren't expecting, but the reasons they think that's a good idea don't matter here, and there are good reasons to do this instead. Not just your reputation - you keep your familiar forever, right? It's important that we find a way of living together that works for us. And their way doesn't work for me. If I tried to do it I'd end up so miserable I'm not sure I'd be able to ever come back. An animal wouldn't care, but I do, and it doesn't work to pretend that I don't."

"No one cares if its a good... its not about the reasons... everyone else is... is... doing as expected of them, and I'm failing to. Again. Because I make you miserable."

"No, you don't. Feeling like I'm hurting someone I care about makes me miserable."

"You were supposed to care about me," Scyelen mutters. "The Spirit of the Founder chose you for me, so the task was meant to be mine, but again and again I fail to win you over..." Her voice hitches.