The map of Sehto did not chart the pathways of Nahla City, only the broad road leading along the plateau in parallel to the canyon it was carved into. The history of the settlement was simple enough - much like Togi, it had begun as a slightly desperate attempt of the initial inhabitants to find a place away from every other settlement, and the Valcee Cave had proven a great place to start. Eventually, the attempts to make Valcee habitable proved more difficult than to make the canyon habitable, and well over a century ago, Nahla migrated from the cave into the canyon, creeping steadily further west as architectural and technological progress made carving into the rocks easier than reshaping their past attempts to suit new insights. These days, the brunt of Nahla City is almost at the mouth of the canyon, with its permanent population spread out sparsely amongst the niches, the majority on the south precipice.

The direction of the wind here is obvious, of course, and Devi finds herself repeatedly tucking strands of hair refusing to stay put behind one ear. There are patches of green along the top of the northern precipice, artificially maintained, mostly straight edges making that apparent.

By the time they'd made out the position of the gym - on the other side of the canyon, conveniently for it and inconveniently for them at equal distance to the two main wooden bridges, the first heavy drops of cold rain were announcing a change in weather. By the time they'd run to and across a bridge, the heavens had opened up, causing Devi to squeal in frustration at their misfortune - though with incredulous humour to go with the rage - and when they found shelter in the gym's artificial arm of the canyon, one of the few places with a generous chunk of reliable roof, watching a strip of earthen ground soak through near the centre of it, they themselves were dripping quite readily. Rain-proof clothes were only useful if you had the time to put them on. Umbrellas and other items were only useful if you didn't misjudge distances and thought you could make it shelter much faster than wrestle it out of your rucksack.

“The first things the two fearless travellers notice as they enter Nahla City,” Devi narrates dramatically, her face one of irritation. “Is that the gym leader's sinister hold on the local weather. The storm sent in assault is no match for our heroes, but the rucksacks suffer heavy losses.” There's a grumble to her voice as she wiggles out of the drenched straps of hers and gives the bag a forlorn shake. Silver droplets detach and pattern the ground with erratic, dark spots. It's not in a bad state, technically, but it does look like it would be quite miserable if it were sentient.

The mad dash for shelter leaves Batsen winded, resting one hand against the outer wall of the Nahla city gym as he slowly regains his breath, continually dripping water from his clothes, his rucksack, his hair, his skin… really pretty much everything's soaked. There's a breathy chuckle and shake of his head at Devi's narration, followed by a vigorous shake of his head, strands of hair flying in all directions and spraying water everywhere, before finally settling down over his eyes. “I told you we should've taken out the umbrellas,” he comments, mock-glaring at her through strands of dark hair. He makes a valiant attempt to blow the strands of hair out of his face, which is about as effective as one might expect, before he eventually gives up and runs a hand through his hair, pulling it back.

Devi shoots a glare across at Batsen, the wholly unamused sort informing him that he's just managed to say the one thing she considers a faux-pas, but it's fortunately equally quick to dissipate, uncomfortable emotional stab though it may be. Rather than respond verbally with a 'yeah, yeah' or something along those lines, she simply shifts her attention to the sturdy would-be-a-hut-if-it-wasn't-carved-into-the-rock at the end of the mildly doming artificial chasm they're in. “Let's go beg for a towel,” Devi offers, considerably more light-heartedly.

The amused expression on Batsen's face hangs for a moment longer, before he registers that Devi's glare isn't of the amused variety, but the genuinely offended sort instead. He cringes apologetically, shudders and twists his gaze away, biting at his lip. For a moment that feels like eternity, there's silence - and then finally, Devi breaks it with a light-hearted comment. Oh good. Either the insult wasn't as severe as he'd thought or she's already forgiven him for it. “Yeah, let's,” he replies with a small nod, his tone not quite able to pull entirely out of 'meekly apologetic'.

There doesn't seem to be a doorbell installed on the wooden door, so Devi raises a hand to knock on it, instead, free hand meanwhile dragging palm and fingers against her face to get the moisture off it, chiefly to get it out of her brows. Then she's standing there with her hands folded infront of her like an attentive pupil, waiting for a reaction.

There is none. For a long while, the pitter-patter of rain continuing as background noise behind them is their only companion. A creeping suspicion buds in Devi's head: What if Terry Kiran was not currently in? He could be out for any number of reasons - patrolling, if he does that personally; an appointment with someone either in our out or Nahla City; a vacation… maybe they should have checked-

“What?” The door's jerked open a crack and a suspicious glower's shot out at them. The glower morphs into a mere sceptical glance as the first impression asserts itself. A brow arches. He has visitors that have managed to get themselves drenched in rain. That makes no promise of wit. “What do you want?” It's a little softer than the initial bark, but still far removed from a warm welcome.

…well, that's certainly not very promising as far as first impressions go. Batsen pauses, glancing over at Devi, then back to the gymleader uneasily. “Hi,” he starts, in the best friendly tone he can muster. “We're trainers on the gym circuit, and we, ah… kind of got stuck out in the rain… - would it be okay if we came inside? …or if you could at least lend us a towel or two…?” he asks, tone hopeful and apologetic. “If it's not too much trouble, that is,” he adds hastily afterwards.

Terry Kiran simply maintains his stare at the both of them for a moment, the door not moving in either direction, staying true to its meticulous five inch open state. “You're circuiting and you didn't think a towel would be a good addition to your inventory?” Terry finally asks, a little incredulously. He seems to have to wrestle with himself at the notion of showing some mercy toward his visitors - but then does finally open the door. “Fine, come in,” he grumbles. “But try not to track water all over the floor, will you? I'll find you a towel. And to spare you the breath of asking: A battle will have to wait until it's dry.” Looks like someone's not happy to see circuiters.

A mild grimace distorts Batsen's features at Terry's criticism, but he otherwise stays silent. They had considered towels, of course, but had ultimately decided that given limited space, and that they could easily borrow them when they were needed, it would be better to just use umbrellas wisely. But then, thankfully, it seems like Terry's decided to let them come in, and everything's okay. So he has a gruff exterior that rubs Batsen entirely the wrong way; they don't have to like each other, they just have to interact long enough to get the Dust Badge.

Devi doesn't seem to be quite set on what to make of Terry's bristly manner - it's like she hasn't considered that sort of reaction at all, despite knowing full-well both what reputation circuiters have and the people from her settlement. Cautiously, she takes note not to mention latter - it was bound to make things worse.

The inside of Terry's home makes a spartanic impression. Someone hasn't bothered with modern luxuries, that much is clear - light notwithstanding, on superficial inspection, at least, there seems to be exactly one electronic device and not a shred more: A digital alarm clock blinking the time in wholly alien juxtaposition to the rest of the small living space. It seems like an odd choice of hang-out for someone who can't possibly even be in his forties yet, but apparently, he's just that sort of person.

Drip, drip. A bit self-conscious, Devi frowns as she watches Terry rummage through a cupboard. A moment later, he's scrunching up a towel and tossing it her way, causing a fumbled catch on her part, the folds of it partly unravelling in the process. “Thank you,” she says, sincerely, hoping for the moment to take a bit off of his edge, then bringing one hand around to unclasp her hairgrip, temporarily holding it in her mouth and rubbing her hair dry in a hurry. Then the moment's passed and she's offering it to Batsen with one hand.

Batsen hesitates for a few moments before stepping in, certainly not one to turn down hospitality. He glances around at the interior of the stone building, hesitant to leave the area by the door, if only to avoid dripping water everywhere. Well, this is certainly a spare setup. It's almost hard to believe someone lives here, especially someone who doesn't seem that much older than them. He accepts the towel from Devi, quickly drying off his face, hair and neck, and wringing some excess moisture from his arms before handing the towel back to Devi. His hands rest on the straps of his rucksack, looking around uncertainly for a place to put it down so it doesn't soak everything.

Devi rubs the towel across her arms as she takes the towel back and drags it across her legs in a single pass, then similarly wraps it around her rucksack once, before putting the towel down just beside the door, flattening it, and then setting the rucksack down on the same. A moment later, she's wiggled her feet out of her boots, similarly setting them down by the door, and then is walking along the floor in dry socks instead. “Honestly, thank you,” she repeats, glancing at Terry, still with a slightly disoriented air, not entirely sure how to handle him yet. “I guess getting caught in the downpour was rather stupid of us,” she apologises.

Terry shrugs non-committally. “Listen,” he says, a little bitterly. “I may not want you to catch a cold, but that doesn't mean I like you. Not to beat around the bush, you're circuiters and I'm not going to pretend I'm fond of you and your ilk. So understand this: I'm not interested in small-talk. If you need a place to stay for the night, I'll organise you one once the rain stops. If you need anything else, you can ask, but I don't want to have anything to do with either of you outside of formal interaction. Understand?” …right. Apparently, there's little point in trying to nurture whatever fragment of warmth and hospitality this man might possess - they can probably only extinguish it.

Awkward. Devi glances at Batsen apologetically, as if she were somehow to blame for Terry Kiran's attitude. Maybe if her travel companion weren't here, she'd raise a fuss and risk getting kicked back out into the rapidly chilling night around Nahla City, but as it is, she's inclined to forgive Terry his bristly nature as much as necessary not to rip his head off. Her expression morphs into something intensely quizzical: This seems weird for a gym leader? If it weren't so blatantly, embarrassingly obvious, she'd lean across to Batsen and whisper with him about this enigma, but as it is, she feels a bit socially paralysed.