Ravanna craned her neck as she attempted to peer through the throng of novices and soldiers jostling about her. Meals were crowed here, and it would be almost impossible to get anything more than the leftovers. Ravanna had been caught in chores for almost the whole day and had found that laundry was more difficult that learning the Old Tongue and practicing politics put together. Really, how was she supposed to know that you had to get the clothes wet before you put soap on the cloth? The whole experience had been so humiliating, and she still wasn’t sure that she had done it right. After all, what did you do with the wet laundry after you were done rinsing it off? Unable to stop her frustrated sigh as she inched forward through the crowd toward the kitchens, Ravanna was listening just enough to hear a bit of snickering behind her. After a quick glance, Ravanna turned away blushing. Really, there was no call to make fun of her! After all, how was a noble like herself supposed to know how to wash things?

“What? You need water to clean clothes?” Ravanna’s cheeks grew even more heated as the novices behind her mimicked her earlier outburst. Shouldering her way through the crowd just to get away from them, the novice simply ignored the outcries that were aimed her way. Even with that bit of progression through the line, it took a rather lengthy amount of time for Ravanna to make her way into the kitchens. Once she got there, however, it was quick to grab a tray and some soup and bread to go with it. On her way back to the tables, Ravanna snagged a glass of milk before making her way back into the fray. Most of the tables were crowed with chattering novices and soldiers, but one lone table in the back of the large room stood out. No one was sitting there, by some sort of miracle, and the novice was quick to make her way over and sit down before a large group could claim the seats.

Twirling her soup spoon for a moment, Ravanna almost peeked around her to see if her father had seen. It took a moment for her to realize that her father would not lecture her, for she had left him without a word and only sent a letter from the Tower. Wincing, Ravanna cradled her head in her hands and stared down at the bowl. It had been wrong of her to leave her father, true, but she had not wanted to die of a channeling induced fever! She loved her father dearly, but even life prevailed over that care. Anyways, she had always wanted to find her mother and had high hopes that the woman had stayed at the White Tower after she fled to Tar Valon to be healed of the sickness that being a wilder had brought on.

However, Ravanna had had no luck in the matter. The novice had actually gone so far as to ask some of the Aes Sedai if they had ever heard of her mother, but either none of them knew her or they didn’t wish a simple novice to have the information. Wincing slightly to herself, Ravanna stared dourly at the soup for a moment before plunging her spoon into the liquid and stirring it about. Her appetite was gone, but another round of chores she didn’t know how to do would be waiting as soon as mealtime was over, and Ravanna knew she would never be able to face the other novices on an empty stomach.

Sloane was already in a bad mood, and seeing the crowded mess hall didn't make him feel any better. He had just finished a row of pesky and irritating chores that in Sloane's opinion were just a waste of his time. He could have caught up with his training and homework for classes but noooo, of course he was more useful scrubbing windows and carrying baskets of laundry. He couldn't wait to be raised. Being Dedicated would surely help things, not to mention being Asha'man. Asha'man didn't have to do chores, that was for sure. They didn't have to dust shelves or wash dishes or carry logs... They got to do whatever they wanted. Aaah, being a Soldier could be so frustrating.

But he knew that his raising was still years away. He didn't enjoy classes, thus he wasn't too good at them, and he supposed that his saidin training was going pretty well but still he was far behind from the standard of newly-raised Dedicated. Years and years and years of taking classes and scrubbing pots and washing floors. He hated the thought. But he did want to become Asha'man, so he had decided that he wouldn't complain.

But he could be angry. There was a huge crowd in front of the kitchens, and all the tables seemed to be full. He wasn't renowned for his patience, so he pushed his way through the crowd as well as he could, mercilessly pushing some of the smaller novices and Soldiers aside so he could get through. Once he got to the food it didn't look too inviting, but he had long ago got used to the food that was nothing compared to the meats and sauces he had eaten back home. He wasn't even sure he could eat with sursa properly anymore. Regardless, he just grabbed whichever dish was nearest and after filling his tray pushed his way through the crowd again.

He was getting really annoyed when he faced his next challenge. There wasn't a clear table in sight. Sloane would have much rather eaten alone in a quiet mess hall, but that seemed impossible under the circumstances. He spotted a somewhat less crowded area and headed for it. Once he got closer, he saw that the whole table was empty except for a lone novice. Knowing very well that this was his best choice, he approached the girl. "Can I sit here?" he asked, trying to mask the annoyance in his voice.