In spite of all the turns separating T'ryn from his own Candidacy and Weyrlinghood, that bellow still caused the bronze rider to flinch slightly. An instinctive response to run away that had been drilled into him from abuse endured at Fort to 'bring him up to snuff'. And, it was just that reason that T'ryn straightened himself back up, calling up every bit of dignity and authority he could muster. He wasn't going to let his daughter be tormented as he had been, not here, not now.
So, it wasn't a meek and cowed rider that entered M'ayen's office. It was an officious bronze rider, one who had at one point been Weyrleader, and was now a Wing leader, that walked in instead.
"Good afternoon, ACM M'ayen" T'ryn said smoothly. "I believe I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with you."
"Life is NOT a journey to the grave with the goal of arriving safely in a prettily preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways in a shower of gravel and party shards, thoroughly used, utterly exhausted, and loudly proclaiming: "F*** ME, that Rocked!!" -unknown