Catame slept very late the next morning, and woke still feeling tired. After the mild ordeal of lunch in the meeting hall, he was even more tired, and begged off from attending the lectures provided for the candidates' education. He probably knew most of what they were going to talk about, anyway. Daynoren frowned, brows coming together in concern, but Catame smiled and promised that all he wanted was a nap, so he wouldn't be tired for dinner and the second meeting afterwards. Reluctant but already afraid of being late, Daynoren sent him back to their room and hurried off, leaving Catame to drift down the dormitory halls and into the room they were sharing with Kaur.

The lupine daemon was just leaving as Catame reached the door. She took even less convincing than Day to let him just go inside and lie down without her supervision. Catame thought she felt stifled and uncomfortable to far underground, surrounded by so much stone, but he didn't comment, just watched her hurry down the hall and presumably for some fresh air. Then, as she rounded the corner and was out of sight, Catame slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him and curling up on the nearest bed, exhausted.

The night before had been more emotional and unsettling than Catame had expected. He'd been nervous and uncertain, he'd been hopeful and optimistic, he'd been afraid and upset, and afterwards he'd come back to the room with Day and Kaur and sobbed his disappointed misery out. It had taken them both the better part of an hour to convince him that he hadn't failed, hadn't ruined his chance, hadn't mortally offended anyone, and even then he still felt horribly guilty for misunderstanding Tantra so badly, and even a little embarrassed for his overreaction. Even wearied by the long day, the wild ride of emotions, and the pressure of having to be around a large number people-- beings?-- for most of the day, he still had lain awake for several hours after Daynoren's breathing had settled easily into the rhythm of sleep, and Kaur was deep in her nightly meditations, thinking about how he could have done things differently and how he could make things right tomorrow.

Today wasn't much different, though Catame had hoped it would be. He lay under the warmest of the blankets the dormitory room had to offer, knees pulled up and arms tucked against his chest, staring into the darkness of the unlit room while his mind moved from scenario to scenario and over memories and daydreams. He wanted to sleep, but his own mind and body would not let him; he had quiet, darkness, and exhaustion, but no peace. With a sigh, he slid out from under the blanket, shivering in the chill of the northern mountain underground, and slipped his feet back into the slipper-like shoes he was wearing within the complex, pulling a cloak around his shoulders. If he could not sleep yet, he would go for a short walk, and that would drain his still-weak body of enough of its restless energy so that it would force him into slumber.

The hallway was slightly warmer than their room, but Catame still hugged his cloak tightly to him as he moved slowly down the hallway towards the meeting room. He hadn't done any exploring, really, but he knew vaguely where everything was. The dormitories of the dragonets, for example, fairly lept out at him, as infused as it was by the young, innocent magics that the kits exuded. It was empty now of the dragonets themselves, but their power remained, and it drew Catame gently but insistently across the vast meeting hall, where he avoided the gazes of the few human-formed dragons clustered near the entrance to the classroom hallway where Catame knew Daynoren, the other two candidates, and the mass of kits were all ensconced. Their magic pulled on him, as well, but his mind shied from the thought of meeting Tantra again so soon.

So down the empty hallway of the dragons' rooms he wandered, cloak clutched about him, eyes half-lidded as if to filter out the strength of the magic that pulsed through the floor, the ceiling, the walls with their oddly wide doors and graceful handles. Earth and Water, Air and Fire and Light, all glowing serenely and whispering a wordless welcome. Walking along slowly, Catame breathed magic with the air, and he smiled.

It curved around, just like the hallway opposite it with the candidates' rooms, and ended in a similar room bedecked with pillows and lounging couches and even a low table. The magic was just as strong here, full of the images of cheerful bickering, enthusiastic play, and quiet companionship. No longer shivering beneath his cloak, Catame found a pillow large enough for two of him and thick enough to support the weight of three, and he settled into it with a contented sigh. It was soft, softer than their beds in the dormitory room, and he sank into is just as he used to his favorite overstuffed armchair at home. The association brought another smile, and he curled up willingly in the cushion's embrace, shutting his eyes and letting the pleasant scent of magic wash over him.

There the lady Aloia found him nearly two hours later, sound asleep with a smile still on his face, wrapped in his cloak. She smiled fondly down at him and, knowing that the dragonets were being released from their classes dinner, slid her arms down and around him, lifting the boy and turning to carry him out. It wouldn't do to have them all find him here, wake him, and quite possibly scare him again. Still blissfully asleep, he snuggled into her arms, and she smiled.

Aloia made it to the hall of the candidates just as the dragonets started swarming into the meeting room, chattering cheerfully as they made for their own hall. Catame didn't stir at the sounds. She had tucked the boy safely in his bed before his brother even reached it, opening the door again to step outside as he reached the hall itself. Bright, suspicious eyes fell on her and he hurried closer, but she held up a finger to her mouth with a smile. "He's asleep," she murmured as he slowed from his rush to meet her, and swept past him, leaving Daynoren to stare after her in consternation and frustration which he dared not voice.

Chuckling to herself, shaking her head at the older but smiling fondly for the younger, Aloia continued down the hall and away.