Abby didn't even think to see his bashful surprise as anything but genuine, or cute in an awkward way. He was just a nice, shy boy with a blushing problem. The type she liked, apparently.

"Either way," she shrugged. "At least you're not eager to find them."

She could get along with lots of different people, Abby knew, but the friends she preferred to spend time with were the ones with that compassionate streak in them. Even if it were well hidden sometimes.

Glancing at the doors, she figured it was about time to get back to the party.

"I should probably return to my date before he wonders if I've fallen into some shrubbery," she announced, resting a hand on Tyr's shoulder for a moment as she stood from the bench. Which wasn't really necessary, but her feet did hurt after climbing all those flights of stairs. Her excuse and she was sticking to it.

"When you brave the Great Hall later, save a dance for me, will you?" She turned and smiled at him, not expecting him to join the crowd long enough to take her up on that. If he did, she'd be pleasantly surprised.

"And if I don't see you again tonight, I'll owl you about the gardens."

In that, she was correct – Tyr was not the sort of person to seek out or enjoy conflict, something those at Durmstrang had quickly discovered and put to good use. Sometimes he wished his tendency to be underhanded was not his primary means of defense, but life was life; the school was good practice for his adult life, or so his father would have him believe.

“Yes,” he agreed, with a slight nod of his head. He watched her as she stood up, hazarding another smile. He rose too, after waiting for her to be steady on her feet. The hand on his shoulder felt odd, mostly due to him not expecting it, but he simply smiled – hiding the slight discomfort at the gesture. He wasn’t certain how to react to a girl like Abby.

The prospect of her leaving left him a bit torn – he looked at her for just a moment before he looked into the crowded Great Hall. The prospect of braving the crowds was a bit of a daunting one, but he knew he’d have to. Both for Magdelana and for Abigail.

Still, a bit of solitude in the rose garden was far too welcome. He inclined his head to her.

“I shall try to do so,” he said, the slight nod turning easily into a formal bow. “Provided Mister Schlagenweit allows it, of course,” he added, and his tone made the slight joke hard to detect.

“I hope you have a good evening, Abigial,” he added, a bit more quietly.