drop the insecurity [open]

[Avu]

The first sign that she desperately needed to get away was the fact that she'd bitten her lip so much that she'd broken skin. Between everyone getting sick, people becoming frantic, and the last death -- that of a brownrider; Leweleth's -- Meira was feeling extremely helpless, and resultingly, was almost always on the verge of panic. As thus, as soon as her shift was over -- it was just after one AM -- she'd taken off. Outside, she found Meisk waiting for her, the pale blue wher eyeing her solemnly. He was very much aware of the grief that echoed around the Weyr, he was, and was relatively subdued. The blue nuzzled her hand softly, his breath whuffling over her palm lightly, and Meira caressed the ugly head lovingly, Meisk crooning in pleasure as he flapped his wings with a curious croon, and the image of eggs, nestled safely in one of the Infirmary cabinets, flashed through her mind as Meisk's quizzical gaze met hers.

"Zesa's still with her clutch," Meira assured the wher. "She won't leave them for the world." A faint smile tugged at her lip as she touched the gold's consciousness, and found the flitter fast asleep, curling among the clutch of twelve that she had laid a short time before. Appeased -- Meisk had a very obvious affection for Zesa, and therefore, he concerned himself with the safety of her clutch -- the wher nuzzled Meira again, and then knelt, craning his head back to watch her carefully as the girl, garbed casually in a loose shirt and pants, hoisted herself onto the small wher, who crooned and then sent another question to her. "The beach?" she whispered, leaning forward to slide one arm around the blue's neck, the other hand coming to rest lightly on his shoulder as she pressed her cheek against the neck ridges. "Please?"

The beach. Above all, Meira wanted some place where she could just think, to feel calm and to get away from the stress that was circulating the Weyr at top speed. Catching her breath as Meisk whuffed agreement and then took off at a fast, clipping pace, Meira pressed herself closer to the wher's warmth, bringing her legs up from their dangling position and assuming a position that would almost be described as curled on the wher's back, as if Meisk was a bed, his neck her pillow. The wher uttered a questioning hum, and Meira started to close her eyes to pick out the image of between for him, but then she stopped, giving her head a quick shake. "No. Too dark, too cold, now," she told him softly. "We need a heat source."

There was utter silence, both wher and handler barely concentrating on the path, until they reached the beach. The licking of waves sounded gently, and Meira slid off of the small draconic creature as Meisk slipped into a lying-down position, snuffling softly at the sand as luminous, large eyes scanned the area briefly before, content, the blue dropped his head to his forelegs, curling up in a protective semi-circle around His, who leaned back against his side, head tilted slightly to rest against his back, eyes focused on the stars above. After a few moments, Meisk uttered a plaintive mew and an image of the waves, followed by a longing, swept through Meira, who nodded. "Fine -- go play. I'll wait." Another, more hopeful mewl, and Meisk nuzzled her emphatically. "Me? Go?" Meira eyed the soft waves dubiously. "Well, maybe..."

That was all the bidding Meisk needed -- the blue desperately needed to play, to drop behind them this insecurity -- and thrust his head under one of the girl's arms, dragging her, ignoring her laughter and protests, across the beach and plunging into the water, swimming steadily and letting Meira hang onto his neck, spluttering saltwater -- it stung at the cut in her lip, but refreshed her otherwise -- as he flared his wings, crooning happily at His. See? It was good to play, to forget the lonely uncertainty.

[antinanco]

If lonely helplessness a craft, Rinnel was a Master. Masterhelpless, that was his title, right after Babysitter of mentally unstable greens.

Tonight, though, both Boom and Risk seemed to be behaving. While the ‘mandyr had curled up in his sling sleeping soundly (or as soundly as her consistently twitching body got), the wher was again hanging over the edge of the watch platform, snapping idly at forest bugs that were unfortunate enough to be drawn to her glowing green eyes. The trio was just finishing up another boring round of Watch Duty, this time on the Southern tower.

Rinnel shivered as the mist from the recently rejuvenated stream chilled his bones. Slowly his good hand tapped the splintered surface of the platform, increasing in tempo until something inside him snapped—again. “That’s it!” he cried suddenly, sending faint echoes resounding across the canyon walls, “I’m not doing any of the shells anymore! Sitting here night after night, not doing anything! It’s pointless!”

Risk lumbered to her feet and shuffled over to her handsome, headbutting him in the thigh out of concern. A stray hand found its way to her bulky frame and grabbed her diminutive headknob. For a moment he kneaded it, eyeing the peculiar black dot on the end of it. Finally he came to a decision, and vaulted over her head to perch awkwardly once more. “Let’s bust this joint.”

The two took off down into the valley, taking a steep footpath that threatened to topple them over at the slightest misstep. But, it was away from the Weyr, the Hold, and any other place Rinnel knew, and that was what mattered. He only wished they could between it, but his wound would not respond to the absolute deprivation well at all.

Ironically, clinging to Risk wasn’t helping it either. As she thundered down the path and out of the valley, Rinnel was barely able to hang on to his undersized mount with all the jerking. But somehow he did, despite the agitation it caused to his arm. They soon came to a fork, and Risk dug her heels into the grounf, sending a spray of salty earth forward. Where to go? After a moment of deliberation, the handler guided his wher by touch, though it was difficult with his sling; one tap for right, two for left. Right. Right. Left.

The two were never close mentally, so usually when they attempted to communicate it was verbally or physically. Rinnel preferred the verbal route, as Risk did the physical, but tonight the man made amends with his wher in return for the bumpy ride. Boom remained sleeping throughout all of this, by now used to Rinnel’s increasingly frequent outbursts.

Rinnel swore under his breath as the end of the path came in sight. The endless sea stretched before him, in the form of the ultimate road block. He couldn’t between. He couldn’t swim it. The only option was to go sideways, he guessed. The green wher took off to the left, her gallop sending a trail of upturned sand in their wake.

It wasn’t long before the sound of playful laughter reached Rinnel’s ears, and Risk stopped instinctively, snorting. The salt of the sea had clogged her nose, making it nearly impossible to determine what the two blobs of heat out at sea were.

If his adventure at the Hold had taught Rinnel anything, it was caution. Carefully dismounting from Risk, whose muscles were rippling with angry anticipation, the handler called, “Hello? Is somebody out there?”

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[Avu]

Laughter turned to a highly undignified cry as Meira responded sharply to the query that had rung out across the waves; Meisk hissed in agitation as Meira involuntarily let go of his neck ridge, briefly disappearing underwater -- by now, it was more than seven feet between the bottom of the sea floor and the surface -- before she managed to pull herself up onto Meisk, the blue paddling in a circle to appraise the newcomer. Spitting seawater and frantically trying to clear her eyes, for the voice had been distinctly masculine and that was bad, bad, bad, Meira hastily borrowed Meisk's eyes. Two figures. A wher-like creature -- Meisk's eyes had had the first lid closed for the duration of the swim thus far, and it was much easier to see -- and a man.

Meisk flared his wings in agitation and confusion, a whine starting in his throat as MeiraHis froze, her own gaze landing on the greenpair. The sting of her lip was forgotten, and she bit in the age-old habit, until the bitter taste of blood lingered in her mouth and she raised one hand to her mouth, stopping the bleeding as she stared numbly at the shore, Meisk's anxious whine starting to grow into agitation. "Um..." Her words came out as a whisper as she hesitated, wiping away the saltwater that threatened to trickle into her eyes. "Um..." The blue wher huffed. He was getting tired; paddling in place was difficult and his muscles were more suited to moving forward. Couldn't he go back to shore? the blue questioned plaintively. It wasn't Derrisk. No, it wasn't, for that wasn't Derrin's voice and that silly violent blue wher couldn't possibly have let somebody else so much as touch him.

"I -- I'm -- here?" The call came out as more of a question than an answer, but at least it was audible. Meira squirmed uneasily as Meisk started back towards the shore, whuffing softly under his breath. The blue wasn't built for fighting -- indeed, his only training had come from the Night Watch -- but he couldn't stay aloft in one place for that long -- it wasn't often he swam -- and he would protect His if it came down to that. Meira, however, had started shivering slightly, a mixture of the cool breeze slipping through the thin, pale-blue shirt she was wearing, and -- though she'd never admit it, even to herself -- nervousness. She felt naked without Zesa nearby -- not that Meisk wasn't enough; he was -- but the queen had always come when she'd asked, or when she'd needed her.

And now, she was almost jealous of the queen's clutch. How pitiful.

As Meisk pulled himself out of the waves, Meira slid reluctantly from the wher's neck, drawing the cold cloth around her in an unsuccessful attempt to warm herself up -- indeed, it only made her colder and she half wished she could simply remove the shirt, but with the unknown man here, that was out of the question. If it had been F'neth -- perhaps even M'ta -- with Meisk there, she might have. As it was? No. Just -- no. "Um..." She pushed the wet hair out of her eyes, cringing slightly as she pressed tightly against Meisk, the blue eyeing the wher -- identified as a green, but still, he was too far away to actually recognize her -- warily as he curled his body in a loose semi-circle around His. "Sorry...for -- I didn't know that -- I thought -- I thought I was alone," she finished lamely, wrapping her arms around herself.

((One suck deserves another? xD))

[antinanco]

Risk was the first to recognize the pair. Though the salty sea breeze dampened her senses, she was still much more aware than her handsome, especially after their fateful encounter with Crevesk. But as the minature blue’s pale hide loosely wrapped itself around his handler, she knew that the Selenitas scent could belong to no other. Instantly she bolted from Rinnel’s side, her tense muscles now rippling with joy. Rubbing her muzzle along his side, she started from his hind leg and ended up nuzzling his cute, pudgy face. This time, though, it wasn’t lustful but a more friendly, almost apologetic greeting accented by appropriate pale blue eyes. A husky rumbled emerged from her deep-barreled chest, fashioning itself into a mix between a purr and huff of pleasure.

The ‘handsome’ handler reluctantly followed Risk with his heels dragging in the sand, grudgingly trusting her foolproof instincts. As much as he hated to admit it, she was never wrong. And soon enough he too recognized the women, even if she was drenched in seawater. It was that lady-nurse from the Infirmary. Rinnel was honestly surprised he remembered; the place had been so busy with the rash of poisonings and he had fled the place as soon as he had been able to stand. Perhaps, then, he recalled her face from when she was sobbing, collapsed on the floor during Risk’s last run.

Oh. Oh yeah.

Rinnel’s face darkened considerably, accented by the fact that he was now the lone person out, standing by himself on the moon-lit beach with his mauled arm’s sling being used as a hammock for a certain violent green sleeping ‘mandyr.

Fun times!

“It’s Rinnel, with Risk, and it’s fine. We’re going to be on our way soon, anyway,” the man sighed, rubbing the handle of his trusty knife and looking out onto the horizon opposite from the Weyr. Well, as soon as Risk detached herself from the blue wher, which would probably take at least a crowbar and half a wherrie.

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[Avu]

The wher -- a green, that Meisk recognized now as Risk -- darted away from her Handler with startling abruptness, and the blue backtracked in confusion a step, a sharp whuffing emitting from his throat as one wing snapped open to cocoon around His and pull her with him, tucking Meira cautiously against his side. The Healer in no way protested, biting her lip nervously and sliding her arm around her mindmate's neck, only to start back and away as Risk closed the space between herself and Meisk with exceptional speed. The handler stepped back again as Meisk whirled in surprise to face what he assumed instinctively was a threat until the green started nuzzling him, rumbling. Was she honestly this pleased to see him? Meisk huffed uncertainly, and his eyes showed it, a surprised shade, tinted with faint anxiety for His, but by the time Risk had made her way up to his neck, the blue had crooned quietly. This kind of attention -- female attention -- was good.

Meira watched the two, amused dismay prominent on her features. It wasn't entirely rare that her Meisk got favorable attention -- their Wherlingmaster, Ellanie's, wher, Ellanisk, had been quite kind to the small blue, as had most of the other whers, though the green stuck out the strongest in Meira's mind. Nevertheless, he reacted with a shy delight, incredibly naive, that she found appealing. And this green, this Risk -- she was lovely, too, to be so kind to the shy, small wher that she had as mindmate...as long as she wasn't overwhelming him. He'd never had such open affection aimed upon him by any but His, and by Zesa, ocassionally, when the gold flitter hadn't a clutch to take out her maternal streak on. He assured her with a high, soft croon that he wasn't in the least overwhelmed -- and the intial surprise had faded, too. Shyly, he stretched out his neck to nuzzle Risk in return, slowly and cautiously, head tilted to gauge the green's reaction.

Dropping her gaze from the two whers, Meira hugged herself, shivering slightly as the cool breeze picked up again, invading the thin shirt and creating goosebumps. She was still biting her lip as she glanced reluctantly, warily, at Rinnel. She had recognized the greenhandler, now, and found herself eyeing his arm critically. It was just after "noon" for the wherhandlers, so she couldn't protest his being out at this time of day (or rather, night). But she was looking for an excuse to get him away nonetheless; his being there made her extremely nervous and it showed in the slight darting motion of her eyes as she glanced at the Weyr in the distance, arms still wrapped around herself. She hadn't minded Rinnel when he was a patient. It was simple to focus on the wound and block out all else, and then everything would be good and he didn't have to worry. But now...now it was different.

The Bluehandler cleared her throat nervously at his reply, bouncing slightly on her feet. "So, um..." If anything unnerved her, it was the silence. Meira didn't like it; silence gave too much time to think, and she didn't want to think. Not now, not when she was so nervous. "Is she -- is she going to..." The girl hesitated, head tipped towards Risk and Meisk. "To stop...stop cuddling him? Anytime...soon, I mean?" Her voice broke slightly and she cringed, lacing her fingers together behind her back. Her shirt was tied loosely with a ribbon belt -- it had been soaked now -- and she twirled the end of the ribbon shakily, biting her lip and then adding, a slight bit of Healer-concern slipping into her voice, "How's your arm?"

[antinanco]

Rinnel scratched at the side of his neck opposite from his good hand, creating a relatively awkward and angular gesture as he neutrally replied, “Iunno, depends on her mood. Shouldn’t be too hard; she did just Run after all.”

Though what the handler said was truth, Risk looked like she was about to take down the beach in a Run any moment. As Meisk returned her nuzzle, albeit a bit more shyly, the green shivered from muzzle to tail tip, creating nauseating imagery as her hefty muscles visibly rippled under her skin. Oh! What a delight! This almost made her regret choosing Rilysk during her last Run. Almost, but Risk had no regrets. There would be plenty of other Runs, if needed. Then he could be her bluehandsome! She needed one of those, yes she did! So far she only had a handlerhandsome and a brownhandsome. Her collection greatly needed to be expanded, in her opinion. Enthusiastically the green continued to cuddle with the blue, extending her two-toed foot and placing it inbetween his rather promiscuously.

Meanwhile, handlerhandsome covered the distance in considerably less time that his wher, not nearly as motivated or mobile as she was. But as he approached the three, his unslung hand lifted. “Get off, Risk! Now you’re just leading the poor thing on,” he grunted and then brought down his hand onto her back rump with a dull slap. It didn’t hurt her thick skin--Rinnel knew this otherwise he would have felt something their shared bond other than this ignored lust--but it was enough to shock her off of the blue with a sharp bark. Reluctantly she shuffled away from her bluehandsome, her bulky head hung low to the ground and a low whine catching in her throat.

“I dunno.” Rinnel shrugged nonchalantly. “I haven’t looked at it since someone took up residence in my sling.” Said sling was offered for show, displaying a sleeping, twitching ‘mandyr nestled in the crook of his arm. “That’s Boom. She’s violent so if I even try to remove her I’ll probably end up getting my other arm mauled. You can try if you want, but you’ve been warned.” He should get his arm check one last time before leaving, and with an opportunity smacking him like this across the face it was brainless not to. Even though Rinnel was slow, he did have a brain. Somewhere.

[/font]

[Avu]

Run. Oh, dear, did he have to mention that? Meira squirmed slightly, biting her lip uneasily. She didn't like remembering the pure lust, and most definitely didn't like the ironic similarities between what she'd felt and what Z'hin must have felt. And what she hated most was the loss of self-control. Meisk had been repentant, later, for his Chasing, and that hadn't stopped Zesa from scolding him indignantly in an unusual burst of noise from the queen, but that hadn't made the memory fade. The blue wher glanced her direction, crooning softly, and Meira rubbed her arms, looking away and shivering again. Normally it wasn't this cold, in the South. Actually, normally it was sweltering. But the raining had brought a cold breeze at night, and a welcome one during the day. When she was wet, though, it was almost icy.

Meisk was torn between surprise and pleasure as the green wher returned his hesitant attentions. Never, never had he actually tried to appeal to a female in -- in this way, past the Chase, and that wasn't actual love -- it was just lust. His...had not liked the lust, and Meisk didn't like that MeiraHis hadn't liked it, but maybe...maybe she would like the love? The little sister that also looked to His had lust and love, and MeiraHis didn't mind that she had Flown and clutched again. Maybe it was just the little sister...the blue wher whistled in slight confusion, glancing guiltily towards His as if for approval, but she wasn't looking at him and didn't respond to the hesitant mental touch. So Meisk touched Risk's neck with his muzzle shyly, lightly, his tailtip twitching in slight nervousness as if to be rejected --

As Rinnel approached, landing a smack on Risk's flank, Meisk instinctively jerked away from both sound and man, warily. His had never smacked him before; the most punishment the wher had ever recieved was an exasperated syllable or two, and the physical measure alarmed him, and Meisk almost reached out for the little queen before he remembered she wouldn't leave her clutch for anything -- if anything, the poisonings had only made her more fiercely possessive. She'd make sure that the man wouldn't hurt his lovely mindmate, nor Meisk or MeiraTheirs...the blue slid warily to settle his body around Meira, one wing extending protectively, the fragile membrane brushing against the dampness of her shirt as he flopped his large head against her shoulder, eyes focused on Rinnel uncertainly.

"Took up -- ?" Her eyebrow shot up, a disapproving frown twitching at the corner of her mouth. "Generally, casts are not supposed to be used for tents, beds, or homes," Meira pointed out dryly, though she leaned forward, one hand resting gently on the edge of Meisk's wing to push it slightly out of the way, to look at the green Salamandyr that was curled along the crook of the greenhandler's arm. Violent 'mandyr. Ahh, the epitome of a soothing night walk, that was...she cringed at the idea of wrestling with any infuriated Salamandyr, and shrugged, leaning back against Meisk, one arm still half-wrapped around herself in a pitiful attempt to get -- and stay -- warm. "She...will come out, won't she? ...eventually?"

[antinanco]

“Uhm, I suppose she was to come out eventually for food. How she comes out, though, depends on her mood,” Rinnel explained, getting an odd sense of dejavu. Perhaps it was from the blue wher shielding his from Rinnel; it wasn’t unusual for there to be another man in the relationship if an attractive lady was involved. In fact, it always seemed that way to Rinnel.

Sighing, the wherhandler motioned for Risk. Happily the green rebounded and trotted over to her handlerhandsome, knowing what was coming next through a vivid mental image sent be Rinnel. Sticking her maw into his sling roughly enough to make the patient wince, the green

Boom awakened to a very damp and uncomfortably close quarters. This was definitely not the sling she had fallen asleep in. No, she knew this place all to well. It was inside Risk’s giant maw. NONONO! BAD GREENPEST BADBAD SHARDING GREENPEST! MINEPEST SHELLS GREENPEST GOGOGO BOOMBOOMBOOM! the infuriated ‘mandyr screeched, clawing at the inside of the wher’s mouth. Risk trumpeted in surprise more than pain, but the opening was enough for the worm to wiggle out and latch herself to the other green’s face. Soon the two were locked in combat; one desperately trying to eat the other while the other tried to turn the other into a giant, dead pincushion.

Rinnel half-heartedly kicked at the sand in aggravation and cired, “You stupid explosion in a nutshell! Don’t kill each other!” But there was nothing he could do now; if he somehow got inbetween the two with his injury, then it would certainly spell death for him. All he could do was watch and hope they listened to his strong mental command, which was likely, but he still didn’t like the feeling of complete lack of control.

“Hmpfh. Sling’s cleared, you’re safe to look at it now…” the handler huffed at everything he had to put up with. But then he paused, noticing for the first time how pitifully cold Meira looked. Yes, he was that dense sometimes. “You kinda look cold, though… Here.” Rinnel peeled off his dry tunic and tossed it to the smaller woman. He was lager than her, or at least large enough that the tunic could be used as a smallish towel. And anything was better than nothing.

Rinnel shifted uncomfortably. Somehow he had ended up shirtless—again.

Damn women, always so needy.

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[Avu]

How helpful.

He supposed that she would come out eventually, but he didn't know, and he couldn't give any time frame? One eyebrow arched slightly as Meisk uttered a soft chuffing noise, amusement evident in his eyes as Meira cautiously pushed his wing farther away from her, the wher obediently withdrawing said wing, though his tail still stayed protectively around her legs. However, his possessive, protective position was momentarily dropped as Risk did -- something, and the blue wher edged forward curiously, a slight croon emerging from his mouth, eyes flushed with uncertainty. How would that -- ?

The screeching emerging from Risk's mouth -- but that did not belong to her -- sent the wher recoiling to wind more tightly around His, who had started in surprise and now watched in a mixture of concern and dismay as Boom practically exploded out of the wher's mouth and started attacking her face -- to which Risk responded with attempts to eat the Salamandyr. As Rinnel kicked at the sand, yelling at his mindmates, Meira twitched again, shrinking against Meisk, both for warmth and for protection. Well, she'd be frustrated too, if either of her lovely mindmates behaved like -- like that. Fortunately, Zesa and Meisk got along splendidly, aside from the clash in sleeping hours.

As Rinnel's attention turned to her, Meira's gaze still lingered on the two fighting greens. "Um...they will be -- they won't...hurt each other badly, will they? I'm not a dragonhealer...but, um, thanks, I guess, at Risk's expense..." Another sideways glance towards Risk and Boom, Meisk crooning anxiously, though loathe to leave His and intervene in a fight that was not his to fight. But -- wait, what was he doing? His words barely registered as Meira felt herself blanch as Meisk's tail tightened protectively around her, but instinctively, she caught the oversized shirt, holding it dumbly in her hands for a moment as she stared at it.

Did this mean she'd have to look at a shirtless, fully conscious man's hurt arm, when they were alone on the beach with two squabbling greens in the background? What fun. "Um..." She bit her lip, nervously, and then cautiously unfolded the shirt, smoothing it out with one hand. "Thanks..." It was far too large for her, but that was to be expected, and with a slight sigh, she pulled it over her head, letting the shirt drop past her waist. Drawing her hair out of the way and rolling back the sleeves, she motioned for Meisk to move. With an anxious croon, the blue slithered from her side and dropped into a slightly curled position on the sand, eyes luminous as he followed her progress as she made her way towards Rinnel, carefully edging around Risk and Boom and then to Rinnel's side.

"D'you want me just to check the cast, or...to check the actual wound, too?"

[antinanco]

“Yeah, they’re fine. Like siblings squabbles, just gotta let them get out their aggression sometimes,” Rinnel replied as he watched the two quarrel with a dark, yet slightly bored expression, “You’ve delt with children before, right?” He had dealt with the monsters purely because of connections with Ieoha, but still his masculinity desperately needed to be reassured that he was not the more motherly of the two there.

The handler watched silently as Meira finally shrugged off her clingy blue wher. And he though he had clinginess bad with Risk. A slight smile danced on his lips, but it soon disappeared as the woman skirted to his side. He tried to appear nonchalant, covering his embarrassment from having to get anything checked at all. Subtly he stared in a random direction that was not Meira. “Iunno, you’re the Healer here, aren’t you?” he asked, shifting in the sands uncomfortably, “I mean—It’s kinda sore. From the ride over, I mean… the bumpy ride made it angry. It feels raw… and hurts… somewhat.” Getting anything more from him was going to be like extracting a molar, since he usually didn’t pay attention to his body beyond keeping it somewhat presentable and in shape.

Indeed, the intensity of the fight did slowly subside the longer it went on. Risk’s swipes became more heavy and slow; Boom found herself slowly loosing her grip and she even slipped slightly on one occasion. Then with a final toss of her blocky head the green wher flung the ‘mandyr flying through space, whom proceeded to snap open her accented wings and glide to a landing on Meisk.

BLUELANDPEST BADBAD SHARDING BAD, she huffed as she scuttled around on the blue’s back irritably, trying to decide what to do next. In the end she ended up sulking on the wher’s shoulder blade, again hunched over like a gargoyle with tail twitching over one side. Her little ‘mandyr mind was in such a high gear that one could practical hear the cogs grinding agains Bluelandpest boom UglyGreen? the green hissed angrily, hating herself for sinking so low. But it was painfully apparent that she needed help, and now that Hers was distracted with WetPest it was a perfect opportunity to strike.

All the while, Risk was caught in a conflict of interests. She wished very much to continue cuddling with Meisk, but at the same time she also wished very much to digest the puny green ‘mandyr. And to make matters worse, both of them were currently occupying the same space. Perplexed, Risk stood rooted to the spot, her head cautiously extended as she tried to gauge what was going on. Surely two opposites, nice and naughty, could not coexist?

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[Avu]

The fight between wher and salamandyr was rather distressing, and Meira, one hand touching Rinnel's cast almost absently in preparation for the examination -- she was only an apprentice Healer, but that was still better than nothing -- bit her lip nervously as Meisk fluttered his wings with a curious fluting noise, eyes flushed with uncertainty that was echoed in his mindmate. Fighting was bad; it was scary...he only remembered one fight, before; the brief flash of violence that had coincidented with his Hatching. Derrisk. And of course, since His worked in the Infirmary, he'd seen the results of fighting many a time. And it was never pretty. So why was this greenhandler so peaceably, so calmly, looking on as two of his mindmates killed each other? The wher shifted nervously from foot to foot, and finally, as he sened a slowness to their motions, settled down with a slight croon.

Meira had turned her attention after one more anxious pause to the wound, though, and had carefully begun to unwind the bandages. It was a simple enough arrangement to put back on, and he did want it checked, didn't he? Looping the excess bandage around one arm lightly, Meira tapped his arm to make sure she had his attention. "You really shouldn't be jarring your arm that much," she commented disapprovingly, "or it'll never heal; you'll break the wounds open again -- yes, see?" She touched the slight smear of blood that had come from one of the more minor wounds, and quirked her eyebrow at him to make sure he saw. "You'll never heal if you keep -- keep messing with the process. I know you couldn't help it, but going between back to the Weyr wasn't a particularly good idea, and...well, just try not to kill yourself, 'kay?"

While she was semi-lecturing, Meisk had dropped himself into a seated position, eyes focused quizzically upon the struggling greens. The reason for their fighting was beyond him -- had Risk not been most careful, in picking up the green? And it was for a good reason, was it not? To make sure her Bonded wasn't hurt. The blue wher ducked his head, eyeing the battle warily, helplessly. He really, simply didn't want to get involved, and he didn't know what to do anyway. Would he help Risk or Boom, and why would he choose one over the other in any case? It simply didn't --

Flying Salamandyr ahoy!

Meisk jerked back violently, and then stiffened, startled and dismayed, as Boom landed upon him and proceeded to keep up a stream of comments in his mind, scurrying around at his back so quickly that the wher, alarmed that she might fall off, promptly flopped down on the ground so the fall would be a shorter one. His head came around, eyes spinning nervously as he appraised Boom and then crooned warily at her question, neither an affirmation nor a negative. He didn't want to -- to 'boom' Risk. He liked Risk...but he didn't want to have to fight the small Salamandyr, either. Now, how did he get this thing off of him, without offending her...?