Tazkerov nodded, the smile growing enough to actually appear in answer to the other young man’s chuckle, in answer to the comment about two ways to hunt felines. It was true, felines were best hunted using methods that kept the hunter at a distance. Taz wasn’t too sure he’d even want to risk a dragon to those creatures, not with what he’d heard of how they hunted.
“Tazkerov,” he supplied. He was kind of stuck providing his right name, just in case he should happen to encounter Najden again while in the presence of someone from the Weyr. He slipped into stride roughly half a step behind the other young man, an accedence to the other’s rank that he had learned from four turns in the Weyr.
“Bitra, eh?” Tazkerov said. “Been here long? Even better, you staying here long? I wouldn’t mind going a round or two of knives with you.” Truth it was, though Tazkerov was more truly after the information of how long a son of Bitra’s Lord Holder was going to be in the South and why, although it was possible that Najden had already told him, after a fashion.
“Your father has many sons, then?” he inquired, as they reached the table where the winnings were to be handed out.