Today, however, hadn't been one of those days for Nimuriel. While he understood archives and information were generally handled by the Archivists, called Harpers here instead of Scholars, he had still spent a lot of his day among the books and scrolls. The Diplomacy Wing currently had no important work to be done, so he set to make himself useful where he was most comfortable. He was a common face in the Weyr library, him returning often due to the familiarity of the written word, but also his need to take in as much information about New Atricis as he could in order to serve the Diplomacy Wing properly. In fact, during the day's research about his current new home, he had begun to really realize what the Diplomacy Wing had done so far for Atricis, and set about taking notes on perhaps how the Wing and its functions could be improved from an outsider's perspective.
Eventually though, he had to leave to get some air, and some food beyond snacks, but it was well into the evening by the time he was able to be kicked out by the archivists who were wanting to switch shifts soon. When Viridith offered to take him to the dining hall, Nimuriel waved her off, giving the sweeat darling a loving scratch on the snout.
*No worries my sweet. I could use a stretch, so I'll walk to the hall.*
And so he did, trekking across the Weyryard as the sun set at a leisurely pace, feeling the muscles in his legs stiff from underuse stretch and warm again. As he walked, he noted the physiques of many of the other riders around. While Nimuriel wasn't out of shape, he certainly wasn't muscular like so many others. A lot of both the women and men had muscular arms and torsos and legs fit for their line of work battling Thread and riding dragons. Nimuriel, on the other hand, definitely looked more like the archivists he had spent the day with. He wasn't small, but he was skinny and lean, lacking even half the muscle definition even the more lean individuals here sported. He was clearly a bookworm in a sea of fit fighters, and while it gave him a lot to appreciate visually, it did make him a little self conscious of himself, wondering if he should take up a more rigorous exercise routine. He wondered if there would be anyone who could help him, or a group that trained together that would welcome him in.
Entering the dining hall after his nice walk, Nimuriel kindly and politely found a kitchen worker and asked for some food to take to a table. The woman smiled at him sweetly and insisted he sit and she could just bring it over to him, as was common practice here. He smiled back, nodded and thanked her before finding himself a table not far away so he would be easy to find, and from there, he watched the room around him, listening to the dull roar of a busy dining hall filled with people. From his table he watched a group of threadfighters, a whole Wing it looked like, chatting and having a good time with one another in their own downtime. He smiled, even if he felt a little envious of how it seemed the fighting Wings formed a bond with one another he wasn't sure he had with the Diplomacy Wing. Perhaps he could seek out changes for it though to help with that... maybe.
For now, he people watched, petting Livvy and Lexie who sat on the table to be near him while he waited for his meal.