Vignette: Look out below.
It's a late night that A'son gets back into his weyr, frustrated and tired. A long day. Made longer by that encounter with Leova in the kitchens. A few days before that, the lake. Everywhere and anywhere she showed up. He dropped his jacket down on the floor, there was no hook to hang it on. But there was a bed.
Why was there a bed? His nest of furs on the floor had been pushed aside, out of the way. They were in a neat pile. But why? Where did it come from? He walked to it, confused as to why the mattress was underneath. Then, he felt an unexplainable angry. Really angry.
Before he even knew it, he had picked up the mattress and brought it to the edge. Push. He pushed it over the edge. Gone, like trash. Then he was back for the frame. It was harder to move, it took awhile. Several minutes. By the end he was sweating and tired from man handling it. But then it was gone too.
Exhausted and with a hollow feeling beginning to echo inside, he numbly walked back inside and dropped to his pile. And slept.