"Pari, Pari, my precious, perfect Pari," V'styn singsonged even before he stepped just inside the doorway of Pari's weyr, not bothering to knock or announce himself first. He braced his arms against the entrance so he could lean into a stretch in dramatic fashion, milking the moment for all it was worth.

"Do you know how painfully I pine?" he went on, growing more melodramatic by the moment. He pressed the back of one hand against his forehead and pressed the heel of the other against his chest. "Do you perceive how patiently I've planned?"

He staggered a few steps toward her, dragging his feet pitifully -- and then he dropped the act entirely and let his arms fall to his sides and his expression go blank. "Do you know how hard it is to go through a chest and decide what to toss and what to keep?" He blew out through his lips like a runner. "That thing's heavy."

Too much. That was definitely too much, came a wry and somewhat impatient voice in his head.

Mr. Cheri