•☤ ZZZ ☤•

       A lightweight tome in hand with various event planning notes, Kent makes his rounds, there being so much still yet to do to prepare for the upcoming Ethereal Ball and nearly enough hands to afford to it. From one task to another, he recalls the head chef giving a word of warning upon hearing of the riding professor’s next destination.

Cheekiest prick I’d ever met, they had said. Something about a student that had been utterly disrespectful and hardly knew his place, supposedly.

Kent braces himself for the worst, hearing how the young man put in charge of sorting the dishes was someone arrogant who was eager to cause problems, but…

“ …You’re remarkably quiet for how the rumors paint you, ”  Kent notes with a mild note of surprise as he approaches, seeing all the dishes lined out in quite the orderly fashion. It’s far from finished, but…  “ Extremely well-organized in your methods as well. I wouldn’t have done this any differently myself! ”

Inventory might very well not be that arduous an affair to take care of then. Well, he’ll be!

“ You even know the differences between various dinner forks from what I can see; is that right? ”

“Mm?”

Blink to attention, though even that is slow and sleepy. Dwyer gives a long, quiet yawn before addressing the guy, though at least he’s the decency to cover that with a hand.

“--Quiet? I always am. Not near enough pep in my step to go running about, hollering.” But, ah, if it’s about some sort of rumors... perhaps he can put two and two together there. Nonetheless, Dwyer continues with work as he talks, neatly sorting.

“I learned a lot from my father, unfortunately. How to sort between dishes, whic utensil to use, in what order, come dinnertime. And yes, how to speak up and point out the correct manner of things. Unfortunate, that last one...”

The young man holds up a spoon to his face, squints. Gloved fingers rub at the metal until whatever tarnished bit is gone from this world. Goodbye.

starter for @shadoll

If there was any one greatest trouble granted by newfound minisculity, it was the question of travel.

When you are tiny, your feet are also very, very small. Ideally, you still need to travel the same span of distance nonetheless; a foot is still a foot, an inch an inch. Crossing that much distance was already workout for Dwyer enough, much less when meters stretched to miles.

Thankfully, there’s a parallel solution to be found nonetheless.

Rabbits were much less frightened of you when you’re smaller than them, he’s found. The young man is busy carefully, cautiously easing his way toward one sat in the middle of the expansive courtyard, where the beast nibbles hungrily away at some grass. He’s sidled on up to it within arms’ length, but...

....

Now what. Just grip the fur, pull up? Potentially the same idea as a horse, but he’s never really ridden bareback either... so close to his goal, and Dwyer now simply stands there. Frozen, thinking.

starter for @liegebound

This sort of thing was far more suited to him, really. Dwyer almost feels at peace here.

Why even go to all those classes on how to best bash people with a stick, when his skillset was far more suited to looming in a kitchen, here-- offering the occasional, unwarranted advice, to those with far more authority?

Of course, he also isn’t rude. He’s made sure to carry his weight with any tasks set to him, and gladly so. Was sorting through dishes really a punishment for, quote, “insubordination”, when it was a task he truly delighted in? Not his fault the head chef wasn’t aware of the best technique in which to mince cloves...

GD MISSONS

With your newfound size come newfound troubles with logistics, in particular: how does one get around when you’re as tall as a thumb? The world itself is as grand as it’s ever been. There are, however, those among you who will no doubt see your fresh perspective as an opportunity. After all, how often is it you get a chance to ride a bird, a rabbit, or a squirrel? [ Grants Riding/Flying +1] SARA

You notice things you would never have picked out before. Seeing the world from down here, you occasionally find odd tokens in the grass, in pots, in other such hidden places. Trouble is, they appear to be but half of whatever treasure you’ve found. Not to worry! One of the fairies captured in a recent mission is all too happy to take them off your hands, promising good luck and miracles for every complete match. Who knows if the ‘good luck’ is real, but there does seem to have been one small side effect after the fact: you’ve learned, quite incidentally, that you can now speak with mice! And hoo boy, do they have a lot to say: they humbly request your help, O strange near-hairless rodents, in order to defeat the threat of other mice invading their (your) territory. Teach them, they plead! Teach them to fight! Well, all right then. Surely nothing untoward will come of you showing one or two of them how to swing a stick… [ Grants Any Skill +1 ] CELINE

FREE TASKS

Ah? Sharing her apparent one treat? How generous, even if it did seem to be the smaller end of the halves. Dwyer does accept the cookie shard gratefully, soon munching away.

"--Nah. Got a single hit, though. I do think that's good enough for me." Can't say he really gave it his all, but... bare minimum participation, that's still a lot, right?

"You did get far then? That's good. I hope you gave everyone a run for their money." Nod, and... his acquaintance is then handed another juice box, to help wash down her half of the cookie. Dwyer had grabbed plenty.

"... And what's that supposed to mean?"

Still, juice is juice, and Dwyer will never be one to pass up a delightful little beverage. The young man takes a nice, loooong sip of the box, focusing on that for a moment. Let the sweet taste of citrus soothe his wounds.

Smack smack. Anyway, yeah, he does know exactly what that's supposed to mean.

"juice box," she demands, hand upturned in a receiving position. dwyer should have no trouble retrieving one from those stingy clerics that denied her. "in the past, they have been distributed among the defeated as a consolation prize. i would like mine now, seeing as i do not have any intention of losing."

Dwyer himself is already sipping noisily from a one such juice box, the crackling sound of bubbles through his straw ringing loud and clear.

"Don't have any."

But despite what his flat tone would indicate, the young man surely jests-- as action gives such contrast as to have him shuffle through his belongings, pull out a second juice box, and place it into her outstretched hand.

Contrary to what Shigure had initially expected, these wolves look quite sweet. They may not be small creatures the likes of which he tends to befriend in every forest he visits, but the principal of approaching them is, no doubt, the same: be calm and quiet and show them you mean no harm. The bluenette slips into the yard and spots a familiar figure nudging one of the lupines with his staff. He chuckles at the sight.

“I don’t believe they’ll get up if you do that,” he remarks, drawing closer to the older teen. “Hello, Dwyer. It’s lovely to see you here in Fódlan. How have you been?”

He takes a seat near another wolf, this one with a lovely snow-white coat. Best to take it slow when earning an animal’s trust, as he knows well from experience. Glancing up at the other, Shigure once again finds himself glad for the possibility of meeting his friends here; even if he’s made some new ones, seeing his old ones and knowing they’re alive and well sets him at ease. They had all gone their own ways after the war… it’s nice, to meet up every once in a while.

Reaching out, Shigure strokes the wolf’s fluffy side. The wolf snuffles but doesn’t move away, so the bluenette inches closer until he’s smoothing the fur down on the canine’s head. A thumping behind him makes him glance back and find the wolf’s tail wagging heartily—seems he’s taking the correct steps. He turns back and strokes the wolf on its head and neck, scratching behind its ears. The wolf pants, tongue lolling out, before flipping onto its back and whining, pawing at Shigure. The teen laughs and rubs its belly, and it give a happy bark. “Goodness, aren’t you a friendly one! What a sweet and majestic creature you are! Oh, what a darling companion you must make, yes, how delightful!”

“Rarf!” Well, the wolf must be extremely pleased by the praise he’s showering on it. Giggling, the bluenette turns back to his friend.

“Did you see how I earned its trust? Simply respect it and show it you mean no harm and you will no doubt befriend one by the end of this afternoon. It’s really quite simple, if you think about it, isn’t it?” He smiles at Dwyer in encouragement. “Why don’t you try?”

Ah. Shigure. Yes, they knew each other quite well. You really do grow to make quite the connections with your comrades in literal war.

Shigure is, and always has been, quite a pleasant presence, pleasant young man. He’s never too loud, never too boisterous in movements, and... kind of perfect in just about everything, seemingly. That last part would probably contrast and overshadow the other bits, give him a sense of bitter distaste, if Dwyer actually cared.

“Shigure. I’ve been... well, I’m here now.” Not sure if the question was asked for sake of a genuine answer, or just for sake of pleasantries. Meh. “Sure I could be a lot better if I was having a nice tea before a nap.”

Casual, ever-so-gently distant. Not willing to even try and touch at the baggage surrounding everything behind.

But Shigure makes fast friends with a capricious wolf, and Dwyer’s face scrunches immediate. Really? That easy, already? Or, maybe the dogs were actually far more amiable than he’d realized...

Wellp. Dwyer shuffles into taking a seat beside one, reaches out a hand to pet it...

--Only to yoink it back before the snap of jaws. The young man then keels over to the ground, fabric to dirt with a loud POMF, and quickly crawls away in practiced speed.