So it wasn't that Finnisa didn't get excited. She did! She just didn't get very excited about things. She never got worked up, never panicked or worried overmuch. Things would in the long run go as they were meant to go, and all'd be well (or it wouldn't, but in those cases, it wasn't as if much could be done personally, usually, anyway). That attitude was why she'd only gone once or twice to mill with her peers near the entrance to the hatching sands. Seeing all the eggs was fascinating—thank goodness ovines only dropped one or two foals each time, not this many, they'd be overrun in just turns!—but not anything to go over the top about.

But some folks seemed more affected. She'd noticed worried looks at meals, shaking hands at lessons, and heard her peers pacing the common area of the barracks at night. There were a number of candidates fresh to the sands, but even more seemed worried than usual. That was why today she'd staked out a comfy chair in the corner of the common area. Usually she'd not miss a chance to turn in early, but...shards. She hated to see that stress on her friends, her family, after a fashion.

When she spotted someone looking rather distressed (though perhaps not nervous, not on a fellow that sturdy looking), she opted to make herself available. "Hey," she called out, lifting a hand with a casual, almost shrugging smile. "VTOL in your cap?" She thrust a chin towards the chair next to hers. "Or just tired? you look done in, either way."

Prism Shine