O'kano, currently seated near the hearth in an effort to soak up as much warmth of possible, fails to see or hear R'ken's entrance; he's engrossed with his klah mug and savoring the almost scalding-hot beverage, not looking for new arrivals.

And R'ken isn't immediately eyeing about the room for O'kano. He has his priorities downpat, the first of which is, as per usual, a fresh cup of klah. He's accompnied by a few of the there-and-gone-again 'lizards, and they add their noises to the ruckus already there, and so probably go unnoticed -- even when they flicker out, off to other things. The brownrider's briefly amused, snagging bread as well to nibble on, before turning to scan. Ah, Puo. Let's just sneak up on him, like so. "Uh, O'kano?"

O'kano has, for once, one of his own firelizards in the caverns with him: a rarity for Puo, since he dislikes the things so much. But the bronze Thing refuses to go elsewhere -- contrary little bugger, much like Puo himself -- and the young man's given up hope of showing the creature away. So Thing just perches on the back of Puo's chair and warbles his friendly greetings to those that keep company with R'ken. Alerted only seconds before he's hailed, O'kano twists in his chair to fix a glare upon the brownrider. "Go away," he commands icily. "I don't want to talk to you."

"That's a good start," comes R'ken's mostly cheerful response, and he shuffles a few steps to the side to choose a chair -- within talking distance, at least, though it's a couple away. "I'm afraid that I can't very well go away. Well, I could, but... Well, I'd much rather talk to you first. I can talk, you can just listen, though." A pause. "It's about Dei?" Let's just get right to the meat of the matter.

While the firelizard keeps up his chattery sociability for the sake of driving Puo nuts, the bronzerider glowers over in R'ken's direction and snaps, "You can too -- you're just choosing not to. And I do /not/ want to listen. To anything you've got to say." Whether it's about Deinha or not. "Nothing you've ever said has been worthwhile, anyways, so just spare me the time; I've got more important things to be doing." O'kano promptly turns his chair so that his back's facing the brownrider, and scowls moodily into the fire in the hearth with every intention of ignoring R'ken.

R'ken ... blinks a bit. Almost surprised. O'kano's rarely pleasant, but this seems even slightly more cranky than usual. He blinks again, setting mug to the table and cupping chin in palm, then watches the bronzerider's back with a little bit of interest. "If you stick your fingers in your ears and start la-la-la'ing to yourself, I'm afraid I'll have to drag you outside and dump you in the snow. Don't tempt me." Ruefully, "Dei said you weren't mean, or awful, or anything, way back when she told you, but you have seemed to be avoiding like the plague. She's said she wants you there for the birthing, you know. And, as the concerned friend, I thought it worth telling you. Forgive me," dryly, "if I was mistaken, and you don't give a shard." Let's just poke. Poke hard.

"What makes you think that you /could/ drag me outside and dump me in the snow?" O'kano queries spitfully -- so much for ignoring him. The bronzerider doesn't, however, plug his ears; he's been dumped in the snow before and the warmth-loving Puo isn't willing to risk that again. Then innocence -- the false sort of sarcastic innocence that likely means that Puo's both guilty and displeased -- edges his tone as his next words are formed. "Is it my fault that she's been busy and occupied on the Sands? I /do/ have things to do, you know; I can't just spend every waking moment at her beck and call. Unlike you." He doesn't offer an answer or any comments upon the whole pregnancy matter, defensive or otherwise; if he does give a shard, it's probably a not-very-happy one.

"The streak of pure stubborn, probably," R'ken answers the first. My stubborn could beat up your stubborn, any day! Ah, right. "That is /not/ an excuse, having things to do. Not one in the least for rarely bothering to show your face. And /someone/ has to be at her beck and call. You aren't the only one not ready to end up a parent -- if you are." A pause, probably to choke down heat rising, and then, with stubborn levelness, "If you're /jealous/, it takes only a few seconds of your time to point at me and say 'Get', you know. I'm not fighting with you for her affections, Faranth forbid. I'm just playing big brother, and acting protective. If I thought /someone else/ would be feeling up to it, I wouldn't have to." Not that he wouldn't try, now and again, but that's another thing entirely.

O'kano dismisses the brownrider's explanation with a sniff, rolling his eyes. "You can't just blame me," he points out in a Puo-esque attempt to turn the accusations right back around and lay the criticism on someone else. "I'm not the only one who's been...not bothering to show my face." A measure of patronizing scorn is attached to that phrase. Again, he looks towards the ceiling, then forms a rhetorical question: "Who says I'm jealous?" He doesn't exactly say if that's true or not -- but maybe that's what Puo's aim is. Avoidance. "Or that I /want/ to be parent? Have it! /Fine/ with me."

R'ken responds cheerfully enough, "Oh, yes, I can. Easily." See, he's wrapped up in gender roles. Men are the protectors, the one's who swallow their pride and take the blame, the gallant ones... It's a male brownrider thing, possibly. "And she's just convinced you want nothing to do with it, though she'd like otherwise. /You/ only have to swallow your pride, most of all." A shrug. "I do. You are. Just listen to yourself. You're generally all cranky and obnoxious, but this is mildly beyond the norm. Then... fine. You don't have to accept the kid -- place that blame on me, if you want. But you don't want to let /her/ get away from you. You really don't."

If R'ken can be stubborn, so can O'kano. "You can not," he insists. "I'm the one who's got things to do besides sit around on the sharding-hot sands, if you've ever noticed." Puo doesn't exactly fit the gender-typed role, and he certainly doesn't make any effort to do so. It's like a star in a round hole -- you'd have to break off bits for him to come close to fitting, and then Puo wouldn't be the Puo everyone knows and loves. Or loathes, as the case may be. "I am /not/," he denies. "Do you really think I want to be sweating through my clothes on the sands?" Wait -- doesn't the Bollian adore heat in any form he can get it? O'kano spurns the last with a condescending flick of his fingers, saying, "I don't know what you're talking about."

R'ken can try to break off bits, though! That's what he's best at -- facing insurmountable odds, even if he knows that he's doomed to failure. "Indubitably. And reasonably. But that does not take up all your time. And the sands aren't sharding-hot. /Azov's/ sands are sharding hot. /Igen's/ are. But Starmount's are nearly comfortable, and even more so in the galleries." A pause. A /long/ one in which he concentrates on breathing, 'lest he be tempted to reach out and strangle in friendly fashion. "Fine, then. Do whatever the shard you please, if you're that daft, and think it'd wound your dignity that much. I just thought - though apparantly, it was useless to hope that you'd /care/ - you should be aware of the fact that she'd like you at the birthing. No loss to me if you don't show." He took an awful lot of breath to say that, now didn't he? But apparantly, that /is/ all he's intending to say, for he begins to go through the motions of standing, scooping up mug of mostly untasted klah and shoving the chair back under the table.

"Whatever." It's not O'kano's concern just how hot the sands are, after all, so he disregards the brownrider's corrections. He pokes at Thing when the firelizard gets too close to strangling Puo himself and doing R'ken's job, and the bronze promptly disappears to somewhere that's less abusive. "Fine. Great. I know. I'm aware." Irritation and reluctance edge the young man's tone as he forcibly adds, "Fine -- I'll be there." Not out of his own desires, really, but Puo's not about to let it be heard around the Weyr that he was absent when R'ken was present.

"Good. First step towards being a man." Yes. Watching a birthing is O'kano's right into manhood. R'ken simply nods and, still holding his mug close, pads for the exit. "Seeya there, of course."

R'ken's answer? One big glower. O'kano is certainly less than pleased at the outcome of the "discussion," and probably already pondering how he can renege on his promise.