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Radaam let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as the Magus finally spoke, hardly a trace of his severe exterior tainting his attitude toward his students—for now, at least. He answered the Magus’ address with an acknowledging smile (which was probably weaker than he intended) and a nod, breaking away from the Sorcerer’s gaze with a few butterflies still settling in his stomach. 

Khaemtir seemed none the worse for wear, if the strange attempt at a huddle was anything to go by. Being around the boy really was like trying to walk through tangled river grass, but at least he meant well. Judging by the game plan he laid out, it seemed that Khaemtir had impressed him into his little posse, but Radaam supposed he wasn’t one to refuse. There was really no need to be so skittish; no one was any different just because someone hung a chain of gold around their neck, and beyond that, they weren’t brickmaker’s son and aristocrat-in-the-making anymore. As soon as they donned their white cloaks, they were students, colleagues even. Hell, maybe even rivals, if that turned out to be the way of it. Even if this wasn’t his [i]best[/i] school of magic, and even if Radaam wasn’t the most competitive type.

Banter over messengers aside—Radaam seriously doubted one could even [i]find[/i] his home, and he wasn't eager to advertise it to his wealthy new acquaintances anyway—introducing his family to Khaemtir’s was a surprising prospect, but then again, it really probably shouldn't have been. Given the back-and-forth he had with his tutelary as he walked away, it was easy to guess that Khaemtir’s mother was probably the overbearing type. Fair enough; his own parents would probably be happy to speak with the families of his colleagues, and be even happier to hear he was actually making friends. Radaam never saw that as an issue—it wasn’t like he was a loner or anything—but his mother had often chided him about standing more like a statue in a room than a guest. Zahra had enough outgoing vigour for the both of them in his opinion, but this at least would assuage his mother’s concerns. 

Speaking of which, he probably [i]should[/i] find his parents. His mother was almost certainly on eggshells waiting for a chance to shower him in praise, and his father’d been beaming more than Radaam had ever seen when they left the house this morning. Radaam himself wasn’t sure how he felt about all the fawning, but it was only fair to give them their chance. His stomach was calming, too, which meant in the wake of upset, it was getting more demanding. Figuring sooner was wiser than later, he opted to dive into the crowd much like Khaemtir had done, looking out for his parents above the heads of the other banquet-goers and helping himself to some interesting-looking fruit along the way. 
[right][sub]Striking out like a loner for the moment, reflecting on [@Achronum]’s antics.[/sub][/right][hr]
While Radaam struggled with his newfound popularity, a much smaller Esi skirted around between banquet-goers and wandering musicians, taking in the foreign sights, smells and sounds with wide eyes and an even wider grin. With Toruk wrapped around her arm and shoulder like a watchful (if easily distracted) guardian, Zahra practically bounced between the tables, snatching a taste of anything and everything that looked or smelled exotic, mindless of the looks of shock from people not expecting a stick of an arm covered in half-melted flesh to reach between them for confections. 

Several scraps were thrown to cats loitering under tables in the process and Toruk was tossed more grapes than Radaam would ever allow him in a week, but it was unlikely anyone but the critters would notice; to Zahra’s eye, the bounty of the banquet was as endless as it was colourful, a parade of plenty the girl had scarcely ever seen. Not that she was accustomed to hunger, either—her parents always made sure there was enough to go around—but the sheer variety and scale impressed upon even a girl as young as herself that no expense could have been spared in the name of celebrating the young novices (or whatever they were called). 

Toruk snuck into a satchel or two as they perused, Zahra rarely giving more than a giggle in response and waving for the snake to come back to her when it was time to stop being nosy and look around some more. Once or twice she spotted her parents through the crowd, but other than giving a wave, she always kept carefully out of reach. Short of making sure they were still around, Zahra had no intention of getting corralled back in so quickly; there was far too much exploring to be had! She’d never seen so many fancy people in such fancy clothes—the students in cloaks that shimmered like shiny white fish, women with hairstyles that looked impossible and dripped with gems, people with so much gold on their arms she could hardly believe they could still lift their cups—it was all so exciting! It was like they were from another land completely, like they’d come down from the shining silver tower she always saw in the distance and brought little pieces of it with them for decoration. 

And that wasn’t all; the people didn’t just dress differently, but they [i]looked[/i] different too! There was that scary-looking man that Radaam had gone to with hair and skin the colour of sour milk, and a woman near him with green hair! There were people with skin that was as light as sand and as dark as soot, and one with eyes that glowed like embers; it was like they were all painted figurines, each more outlandish than the last. But best of all were the [i]animals.[/i] Radaam called them “tutors” or something and said that they weren’t [i]real[/i] animals because they needed a sorcerer’s help to be born, but Zahra loved them all the same. It took all she could not to get hung up on each one, but then again, the next always seemed even more interesting! 

As she scanned the crowd for what to look at next, Zahra’s eyes fell on a flash of… pink! At first she thought it was a hat or maybe a turban, but upon closer inspection, she was delighted to find it was a boy’s [i]hair[/i], and then even more delighted to see none other than a hawk sitting on his shoulder! In a cute little scarf no less! Eyes wide, Zahra snatched a piece of rarely-cooked meat from a table and bounded over to the pink-haired stranger, eyes on the hawk the whole way. Her neighbour the falconer could [i]never[/i] get his bird to wear clothes; maybe this boy knew the secret. 

Holding the meat up as high as she could in her free hand, Zahra quietly whistled to the bird, just as her neighbour had taught her. Impatient, she also tugged on the boy’s cloak much like she had Radaam’s, keeping her hand outstretched with the hawk's gift but beaming up at the boy when he turned. 

[color=6AB1D3]“Are you a hawk family?”[/color] she asked the obvious question first, rocking on the balls of her feet. 
[right][sub]Bothering [@Scribe of Thoth][/sub][/right]