C'den blinks. "Why would I talk about that?" He sits across from the other rider, grinning evily. "Y'know.. I saw this girl in the caverns the other day.. I bet you would have liked her.." Teehee.

Kh'vil swats the air in front of his friend's face, no more. "I'm serious. It's just, the conversation always /goes/ that way, and, and, and I'm /tired/ of it. Can't we talk about, I don't know, politics or something?"

C'den makes a face. "Politics?"

Kh'vil says "...Food?"

C'den nods. This is a topic he /knows/. "Okay.. Well, I had some really great meatrolls the other day.. The kitchen girl who gave them to me was really pretty.. I bet you would have liked her." This time he honestly didn't mean it.

Kh'vil grits through his teeth, "What were the meatrolls like? How were they different from the normal meatrolls?"

C'den rolls his eyes. "I already told you.. They were served by a cute girl. Hey, I wonder if she's around. Want to meet her?"

Kh'vil says "Aside from that, and remember, we're talking about other things... was the filling good, or the crust?"

C'den shrugs. "I didn't really notice." He should probably stop talking about cute girls anyway, if certain people found out, he probably wouldn't live to see his twentieth turn.

Kh'vil growls. Clunks his head down onto the table.

C'den blinks. "Khav, are you okay? Maybe you should go to the infirmary.. Hey, there's this really pretty apprentice there.... I'm pretty sure she's our age."

Kh'vil bumps his head against the table some more, not hard enough to bruise, nor yet hard enough to drown out the sounds, but ... he feels it.

C'den grabs hold of Kh'vil's wrist and starts dragging him toward the infirmary. "Come on, let's go.. She's got really soft hands too... She's treated some of my black eyes."

Kh'vil howls, "Noooooo!"

C'den blinks again, and lets the wrist drop. "Oh no, this is serious! Hang on, Khav, I'll go bring her here!" He sprints toward the infirmary.

Kh'vil runs the other direction.

C'den sees this, and chases after him. Having the advantage of longer legs he catches up pretty quickly and grabs hold of Kh'vil, hoisting him on his back and carrying him piggy-back style.

Kh'vil flails, arms and legs swinging every which way, possibly intersecting parts of C'den. This little piggy does /not/ want to go to market.

C'den drops Kh'vil suddenly as a flailing limb hits him square in the face, earning him /another/ shiner, on the other eye. Two at once, oh boy! He groans and falls to his knees, covering both eyes. Owowowow. "Khaaaaav..."

Kh'vil clutches at C'den on his way down to the floor. Thud. "Caaaaal..." he complains.

C'den whines. "What'dja do that for? That /hurt/!" Pout.

Kh'vil does some groaning (and whining) of his own. "You were me-ean."

C'den whines even more. "Was not! I was just trying to help!" Poutpout.

Kh'vil grouses, "I don't need that sort of help!" and tries sitting up--but just falls back onto the floor.

C'den blinks. "What sort of help?"

Kh'vil gets himself up, looks C'den straight in the eye--since Cal's not standing up--and says, "There are too many already interesting women already."