More than Blood Loss (Tags R'wign, Tr'esn)

[Rowana]

((Continued from "ATTACK" and "Fire, Fury, & Flame" plot threads)

Merridan looked up in surprise. They were leaving. All the Bendan riders were leaving. Mer had no idea why or how, but she sighed with relief. It was over. Or at least, the battle was over. It would be a long time before anything returned to normal. Whatever normal for Selenitas was, at any rate. Mer didn't waste anymore thought. She was still going to find M'ta and see if he was alright. Though from Jabari in his sling, he was probably alive at least.

Mer trotted around the corner, careful of her arm and Jabari. She still had her dagger out. She didn't like the idea of being killed by a stray survivor. But no one attacked her. The Bendans were well and truly gone. Mer found M'ta against the wall with a brown dragon protecting him. For a moment she froze, afraid the dragon would mistake her for an invader. But Behruth crooned at her and she relaxed, coming forward.

Mer winced and bit her lip. M'ta did not look well at all. He was barely conscious and bleeding badly. His shoulder and neck looked the worst. Mer only knew some basic first aid. This was clearly going to need professional help. Sheathing her dagger, Mer came up as Behruth settled Kale next to the boy. The girl was safe too. That was good.

First, Mer took Jabari out of his sling and very gently, laid him on M'ta's lap. Next, she torn a strip from her shirt and tide a quick tourniquet around her arm with her teeth. It was going to be hard helping when she was practically one handed, but she would manage. M'ta was in a lot worse shape.

Mer sat next M'ta in the space Behruth provided. "Hang in there," she told him. Taking the rest of her shirt, she wadded it up and pressed it to his shoulder wound with her good hand. It seemed to be bleeding the most and if she could slow it down, he would have a better chance. If only help would come soon.

[glamourie]

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

No one ever said R’wign was a quiet individual. In particular, he was not at all quiet when he was upset and worried definitely qualified as that. Images flashed through his mind of Kalerary covered in blood, Liette being killed, of M’ta being hurt and the jungle, a man he didn’t recognize, dragons he didn’t know, and enough death to make all of it seem jumbled. The fire lizards were confused. It was for that reason that the brown rider had decided to simply ask them to lead him. Far more efficient, that was, than trying to navigate his way through their confusing mental images. Even though R’wign was good at deciphering fire lizard-speak, even he had some limits. Panic tended to destroy what little understanding he had, though the darkness of the night helped that. Fire also did and he was distraught to see a plume of smoke billowing up above where he knew the infirmary to be. It took all of the healer’s efforts not to totally panic in alarm. Considering he didn’t know where anyone he cared about was --

Well. He knew where two were. Religna was dead… probably in her weyr. And Marra was dead in the floor of his. He’d be lucky if he ever managed to go in there again without wanting to throw up from anxiety. That place… it was all memories. He’d never be able to sleep in his furs again. As it was, R’wign wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever be able to sleep again, period. He felt exhausted… and terrified, but who wasn’t? Even with the dragons leaving the skies, it was frightening to be out in the open. Who knew where someone attacking could be? Around any corner! And he had Tr’esn to protect. He’d promised, and R’wign was the type of person who always tried to keep his promises, even if it was to his own detriment. He didn’t give his word unless he meant it.

Ellie darted around before sweeping up behind the cluster of rocks where Kalerary was hidden. Landing on one of the boulders, the little gold fluted in greeting and announcement; Hers was coming! She was quickly joined by the rest of R’wign’s fire lizards: Green, two blues, and a brown, all of whom chattered noisily to get the attention of everyone nearby. Then Ellie lighted over and landed on Behruth’s back.

Behind the rocks, R’wign came to an abrupt and sudden stop. One hand came up to prevent Tr’esn from coming past him and he froze, his eyes narrowing at the female crouching in front of… M’ta? She wasn’t familiar. But -- was she helping him? Shooting a glance to his companion warningly, R’wign jumped up onto the highest point of the boulders and then scrambled down, his hastily-tied boots causing pebbles to fall to the ground in the process. He’d gotten properly dressed in his weyr, with pants, shirt and boots, and he brought with him all the healing supplies he had (fortunate, too, since the infirmary looked to be in flames -- a fact R’wign did not like one little bit). As he climbed, he spied a small, dark form on the ground, but he was too busy sliding to stop; grace wasn’t one of his strong points mid-panic. The brown weyrlingrider came to fall on his knees right next to M’ta and shot a look up toward the girl with his one good eye.

“We’re here to help,” he said seriously as his fire lizards fluted simultaneously. His gaze fell on Jabari, and he looked toward the female again. R’wign did not introduce himself. Instead, he spoke directly to the girl; surely she’d realize that if Behruth was allowing him near M’ta, that he wasn’t there to mean harm. “Do you know where triage for the weyrling barracks has been set up?” His head jutted upward and he gestured to Tr’esn, beckoning the greenrider forward. “Tr’esn, can you check Kalerary? She’s -- from what the fire lizards are showing me, she’s a mess… I can't get close enough to see for sure...” Then it dawned on him, and he turned his head completely (since he couldn’t glance from his left side anymore). “I’m R’wign; that’s Tr’esn. We’re from M’ta’s weyrling class. I’m a healer.”

[Avu]

He had been feeling utterly useless so far. Because, really, Tr'esn hadn't done anything to help yet. They hadn't met any resistance, and it seemed that Benden was leaving; he hadn't known how to comfort R'wign when they'd found Marra, because he knew neither the brownweyrling particularly well nor yet the Harper that had died. And the nervousness, so intense that it nearly evolved into throwing up, had only grown stronger and stronger, choking him until he was simply moving, willing himself to keep up with R'wign as the brownrider followed his fair of firelizards. Damp, rain-soaked grass and rocks pressed against the underside of his feet, which were bare -- because Tr'esn prefered to go barefoot, and because he didn't want to trip over his shoes as he was prone to doing -- and he kept his head bowed, large gray eyes peering up through the curtain of his curls, trying to figure out what was going on: Where they were headed, since they didn't seem to be going directly to the front of the Weyrling Barracks, and if R'wign seemed worried. Because if R'wign seemed worried, then Tr'esn would bet he'd good reason to be, too.

The greenweyrling's head came up entirely, gaze locking onto Ellie as the queen darted forward, landing on a large rock, and he pushed himself a little faster, intent on keeping up as the rest of the firelizards that looked to R'wign landed on the rock as well, eyes sweeping around the area. Brown dragon, two people, one of whom was unconscious -- Kalerary was here? On top of the rock? It was the only logical place she could be, assuming the firelizards were right in bringing them there, for otherwise she would have been visible. R'wign's hand stopped him, though, Tr'esn stopping abruptly and nearly running into R'wign anyway, unprepared for the sudden stop as he blinked at the...girl? Yes, girl. As R'wign glanced at him and then jumped to the top of the boulder, Tr'esn stayed put, silently, obediently, unsure of what to do for a moment, watching as R'wign scrambled down on the other side again, addressing the girl, the unconscious figure he now recognized, upon second glance, as M'ta, and the firelizard. Help. Yes. He ought to help, he should...

But the sight of blood repulsed him. So dirty, so unhygenic, it had to be, sprawled on the ground as they were: Wouldn't it get infected? It was...disgusting and horrible and he was going to throw up....had R'wign not uttered his name, the greenrider doubted he could have moved. As it was, his head jerked up sharply, and he swallowed, nauseous, before he nodded. Instead of jumping up as R'wign had, the greenweyrling grabbed the nearest jutting rock from the boulder's surface, worming his fingers into cracks and then pulling himself up, stomach pressed against the smooth, rain-soaked stone as he wriggled up entirely and then swept his gaze over the top, unsteadily propping himself up by wedging a heel into the nearest crack. The breath caught in his chest as he caught sight of Kalerary, and Tr'esn lowered himself cautiously to her level, again pressing his foot against a rock to support himself as he touched the Weyrbrat's shoulder cautiously, gently nudging her. No reply; clearly she'd passed out. Unsurprising, too, the greenweyrling noted, biting back his nausea as he gingerly examined her.

Slash over her face; she was bleeding from that -- her ear looked as if someone had tried to cut it off -- there was some blood on her lips, but no cut, so...what? Internal bleeding? From where, Tr'esn didn't know, but unless she'd bitten someone hard enough to draw blood, or something...and her fingers were awkwardly bent, and Tr'esn didn't want to touch them -- was she even going to come around again? The greenweyrling cautiously felt for a pulse, aware that it was probably the first thing he should have done, gently pressing two fingers against the seven-Turn-old's neck. It was there -- whether it was erratic or not, Tr'esn didn't wait to find out. "She's -- alive," he offered weakly to R'wign, shifting to keep his leg from going to sleep under him, aware that his silence and the statement could easily be taken as incredibly negative. "Unconscious, and...she's cut -- twice -- on her face, but the second one's on her ear, and it -- it's -- not -- it's bleeding pretty badly." He swallowed the nausea from the red, metallic-scented liquid. "Um...I think her fingers might be -- um, broken. Or...dislocated, if that's even possible...and there's blood on her lips, so I don't know if that's -- her blood, or what..."

He hesitated, squirming backwards and wincing automatically as his palm rubbed against the rough stone as he cautiously pulled himself out of the little den, one blood-streaked hand rising to push his hair out of his eyes. "Should I -- move her?"

[Rowana]

Merridan's hand went to her dagger at the sudden movement, but when Behruth showed no sign of attacking the on coming pair, she relaxed. She started to move when one of them slipped down the rocks, but she wasn't fast enough to stop him falling. That felt odd to her. She must be getting tired. Either that or the blood loss was finally getting to her, it was hard to tell. She nodded at the first boy's statement. Help was good. They could sure use some right now. Though these two looked like they had had their own share of troubles. Especially seeing as one only had a single eye left and that certainly wasn't an old injury.

"I'm Mer," she replied. She rarely gave her full name. She didn't actually like it all that much. It saved time by not mentioning it at all. "A candidate. I don't know. I don't think there's been time. You're the first healer I've seen." She hoped that answered his questions. She was feeling woefully inadequate now that the fighting was over. Healing and comforting were not things she was good at. She moved aside a little so R'wign could see M'ta better and Tr'esn could reach the girl. She still held her shirt to M'ta's shoulder wound and it was starting to slow a little. It seemed incredible that he had any blood left in him.

[glamourie]

Just because the fighting had just finished didn’t mean a triage wasn’t set up somewhere yet, but R’wign was polite enough not to inform the girl of that; she was already stressed, by the looks of things. And hurt. His mental priority list was selfish; he wanted to tend to M’ta first, then Kalerary, then the strange girl and the fire lizard. Unfortunately, he knew M’ta well enough to know that the barely-conscious teenager would have wanted his fire lizard tended to first. He’d Impressed Jabari from that clutch -- the clutch he’d found with Marra. R’wign’s stomach flipped over and he moved to kneel in front of M’ta before whispering soothingly to the little fire lizard. The brown was scooped into his hands and R’wign sat down on the rocks before jutting his chin in the direction of Mer, directing her over. With his sight in such condition, there wasn’t really a lot he could do -- mostly just manage. He wouldn’t have trusted himself to do anything more critical. But she could see, and so could Tr’esn, and he fully intended to boss them both around as if they were apprentices.

From his bag, R’wign removed a few supplies and gently cleaned one of his rags. Then he dabbed at Jabari’s wing, whispering another quiet apology to the fire lizard; it would probably sting, but he knew Jabari, and hopefully the brown would trust him. All of his fire lizards were twittering encouragingly, probably in an attempt to keep the brown flit calm. Considering the nature of his injuries, he could likely hold off on being treated, but… M’ta would not forgive him if he did that. R’wign inhaled, and mentally sought Checkoth; the brown was so happy that Behruth and His would survive that the feeling almost toppled R’wign over. Silly beast; nothing made him happier than to imagine people surviving. Optimistic, Checkoth was, at all times. R’wign envied him that; he was growing steadily more pessimistic.

Checkoth, can you ask… ask… Who to ask? R’wign didn’t even know who was in the Weyrling Barracks, or nearby… Ask Kaaoloth. Ask Kaaoloth if he knows where a triage could be set up at, please?

Turning to Tr’esn, R’wign squinted slightly. His face stung so badly… “She probably has internal bleeding,” he said with a slight nod. “We’re going to need to move her and M’ta.” His gaze turned back to Mer, scoping her out. “You, too. I’ve got Checkoth asking about where any triage might be set up -- odds are, if anyone managed to get out of the barracks, they’re working on that already. In the meantime - you’ve done well with stilling his wounds. Tr’esn, I need you to take these bandages --” He indicated his bag so that the boy knew what he meant, “-- and press them against her wounds as best you can. She’s not conscious so you’ll probably not hurt her, but we need to slow the blood loss as much as possible. We can’t do much for them as long as we’re out in the open in this rain, though. The longer we stay out in the rain, the higher a chance of infection…” The weyrling barracks were the closest shelter, but they were totally off-limits. Not going to happen.

A brush of interest from Checkoth made him squint with his good eye. While he spoke, R’wign was quickly working at assessing the fire lizard’s injuries, and already stitching up his wing. Sitting on the ground helped with that. He could do that much, at least, though he had to keep his body over Jabari’s to keep him from getting rained on. All-in-all he felt spectacularly useless. And the infirmary was gone. Lovely, just lovely.

R’wignmine, Ciceroth says we should use Aslath’s old weyr for the injured people, the brown said, interrupting R’wign’s fit of self-loathing. We could move them there. It’s empty. I can come get you. Behruthclutchbrother and I can carry you all, and I can fly very steady. I’m sure Oquith would want to be useful too. We can carry people around and help get an infirmary set up. Then ShortyRuth’s will get help. R’wign could just feel the brown’s happiness at the idea of everything being organized. It was only slightly veiled by the worry he was experiencing. So much was happening, but -- well, Check had the right of it. They were alive, Benden was gone, it was worth being happy. So why did he feel like some part of him was dead inside? Do you want us to come down there?

“Checkoth is suggesting we move patients to Shmee’s old weyr,” R’wign said quietly, his head turning so he could see Tr’esn. “He said that’s where Ka’rys - or Ciceroth - suggested. It’s as good a place as any. Do you want Oquith to come down to try and move people?” It was Tr’esn’s choice. He wouldn’t say Oquith had to come. Surely the boy would know whether he wanted his green out in the open or not.

[Avu]

He felt almost guilty, the sensation twisting his stomach painfully. Shards...everyone was hurt. The girl who introduced herself as Mer was hurt; Kalerary was hurt; the blood splattered everywhere surely had come from other Selenitas Riders as well as Bendenites -- it seemed that in all the word, only he had been unhurt. Even R'wign had been hurt -- protecting him, and -- that made him queasy: What if he'd sacrificed himself, or something? Would R'wign be okay, then? Awkwardly, he turned his face upwards, to the cool droplets of rain, licking them off of his lips absently. The wetness settled his frantic, near-panic state as he leaned nervously over Kalerary, tapping her on the face gently, just to make sure she was unconscious. The lack of response from the little girl made his stomach flip-flop again, and the greenrider sighed, pulling himself to the top of the rock and swinging his legs up and over to dangle. Mer...was curious. She was a girl, but why was she going around shirtless? -- oh, there it was. Against M'ta's shoulder, and -- M'ta was alive, wasn't he? The boy looked...very hurt, and Tr'esn liked him -- he was nice.

But it was the firelizard, M'ta's brown, that R'wign tended to first, dabbing carefully at the firelizard's wounds. Shardit: Even the firelizards had acquired more damage than him. They were braver, then. Tr'esn leaned against a protruding stone, awkwardly dropping his head, biting his lip in the silence as he stared blankly at Jabari, not seeing the firelizard, but Oquith, instinctively reaching for the green's mind in an attempt to settle his own rattled nerves. She was probably just as nervous as he was -- perhaps more so, because she didn't know what was going on, and anything could happen -- but her touch was reassuring nonetheless. He pressed his lips together, rubbing at his eyes -- Tr'esn was tired. He'd cried, when R'wign had been cleaning off the blood, and the customary weariness stung. At least he'd managed to loosen some of the knotted terror, in that crying, but it wasn't something he'd admit to. Oquith would keep his secret, and Checkoth -- wouldn't tell, either, if the brown had even seen.

R'wign's statement towards him drew a short, confused nod from Tr'esn. Internal bleeding -- that had been one of his (less optimistic) guesses. But he didn't know what he was supposed to do in the case of internal bleeding; it wasn't as easily tied off and stopped as -- as external bleeding, was it? Move her -- move her. How? He wasn't strong enough to carry Kalerary, and R'wign shouldn't be straining himself too much, and -- and Mer, the girl, would probably have to move M'ta, and what if he hurt her worse? Tr'esn nearly protested, but he swallowed back the protest that wanted so badly to rise to his lips, and instead nodded at R'wign's orders. Stop the bleeding first. Okay. It seemed kind of redundant -- wouldn't the wounds, open as they were, just start bleeding again when they moved the girl? -- but R'wign was the Healer, not him, for a reason, and he trusted R'wign enough that he was reasonably sure the brownweyrling wouldn't do something without it having a very definite point when it came to Healing.

Obediently sliding down from the rock, he fumbled through the bag for a moment, until he found the bandages in question and then pulled himself back up to Kalerary, half-crouching over the girl cautiously as he shifted the bandages from hand to hand for a moment, uncertainly, and then, with one hand, taking a breath and steeling himself, pressed the bandage, gingerly at first, against the Weyrbrat's torn ear. It seemed to be the one that required the most attention, anyway, and the other bandage was pressed with a fumbling, careful pressure against the slash on her face, Tr'esn ignoring the stain of red growing across the bandage on her ear and the wetness against his palm as he steadily applied more pressure until he thought it'd be enough -- at least, no more blood was just sliding down her face; it was actually all being soaked into the bandage itself. Which was good. Right? Yes. Hopefully. He wasn't sure, unfortunately. After this, he'd either ask M'ta if he could be taught how to fight, or ask R'wign if he could follow him around in the Infirmary. Either way, he'd be a little more prepared next time -- assuming, pessimistically, there was a next time.

The Healer's quiet statement made Tr'esn glance sideways at him, wetting his lips nervously. Shmee's old Weyr -- ground level: Okay. "Oquith?" The green's name made him perk up considerably, and his gaze instinctively flickered in the direction of his weyr, where his green was curled up with Checkoth. Oh, yes, yes, please Tr'esnMine, please let me, I don't like staying here without you, came the green's instant, eager reply. Should I come now? It's raining, I can try to shelter you with my wing? Or Check can. His wings are bigger than mine...? Instinctively using R'wign as the leader again, Tr'esn shook his head to displace his hair, which had begun to cling slickly to his face due to the rain. "Oquith's coming," and he couldn't hide the delight at the thought of seeing the green again: The potential danger didn't register. "She wants to know if she should come now? She says she can try to -- cover us, with her wing, until the bleeding's stopped -- how long d'you think it'll take?" he added weakly, extremely aware of the red liquid staining his fingers.

[Rowana]

Mer thought it strange that R'wign moved for the injured fire lizard first. She would have thought M'ta was in far more need at the moment. But he he was also stubborn, from what little she knew of him, and cared about Jabari a lot. His friend probably knew him better anyway. If R'wign thought he had time to look at the little brown first, M'ta couldn't be at death's door quite yet. She nodded at his direction and took a moment to assess M'ta's wound first. Peeling her now red shirt away, she could see that the bleeding was slowing. With a tight pull, she tide the makeshift bandage in place and moved to sit with R'wign.

Mer watched as R'wign worked on Jabari and gave Tr'esn instructions at the same time. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing and Mer relaxed somewhat. It was good to know they were in capable hands, though it must be hard for the healer to work with only one eye. She could only really use her right hand, her left being too painful at the moment, but she could learn fast. "What do you need me to do?" she asked, figuring there had to be something or he wouldn't have beckoned her.

Under better circumstance, Mer might have been thrilled at the prospect of a dragon ride. She had come to Selenitas on foot, so she had yet to ride one of the creatures she was trying to impress. But now, it was a necessity, not a joy ride. What was important was getting M'ta and others somewhere dry where they could be treated. With her mind focused on this task, the excitement at riding a dragon for the first time was completely lost.

[glamourie]

The… girl? Mer approached him and R’wign carefully held Jabari out with one hand and the beginning of his stitching out with the other. The movement was careful, decidedly planned out, as though he was making sure to avoid even the slightest amount of pain being caused to the fire lizard. Once she had him, R’wign indicated the wing. “I need you to stitch this together. It’s not difficult, I’ve done the part closest to his wing. It’s like sewing, but you have to be as gentle as you can while getting the job done. I need you to do this, okay? I can’t see well enough to.” That was half a fib. Actually, he could probably have stitched Jabari’s wing up without either eye; he was good at stitches, after all. But he wanted to check on M’ta. The idea of another person important to him dying was terrifying, and he could feel Checkoth’s worry over Behruth. Doubtlessly the browns were talking back and forth, and he owed it to M’ta to see to it he survived… and he knew his former room mate well enough to know that he’d want Jabari taken care of first. Illogical, yes, but nonetheless true: No one ever claimed M’ta to be a creature based entirely on logic, where feelings were concerned… and Jabari was important to him. R’wign could relate to that.

Glancing was difficult with only one eye. R’wign had a habit of glancing out the corner of his eye to see what people around him were doing and -- he couldn’t anymore. It was an active effort to turn his head, and he felt silly doing it; his looks were so… noticeable. No more subtlety, discretion, nothing. Just plain as day I’m looking at you! in such an unavoidable fashion. His stomach turned over and a hint of embarrassment crept up his cheeks that he very carefully did not acknowledge; he was hoping if he ignored it, so too would the other two individuals. Tr’esn had his interest simply because of how… upset the boy seemed to be. Not that R’wign could blame him. The greenrider didn’t seem like the sort to do well with conflict, and he’d been plunged right into it whether he liked it or not. R’wign wasn’t exactly happy about that, either.

Once he was sure the girl had Jabari under control, R’wign moved over to M’ta and checked the bandages she’d put in place. To him it looked as though she’d done a very good job, and he flashed her as much of a reassuring smile as he could. Trying to treat patients was nerve-wracking under the best of circumstances, so he could only imagine how uncomfortable she must have been. It spoke volumes for her character. Not that he was going to say anything. Sometimes, it was better not to. In his experience, people tended to… well, not appreciate having awkward situations pointed out to them. He definitely was one of those individuals, at least.

“We need to move them as soon as possible,” R’wign said without looking at Tr’esn again. His gaze was all for M’ta’s injuries. The boy had lost consciousness and R’wign would have sworn he could feel his nerves frying from anxiety. “If she could come down here -- she can help us move him to Shmee’s old weyr.” And Mer. She needed to be treated too. “If we can get all the healers to one place for triage, we can start treatment of people by order of necessity -- that way no one goes ignored because we don’t know where they are.” Though there was still a very strong chance of that happening, which R’wign did not give voice to. He was trying to think of the best way to save lives - and that meant working quickly. M’ta’s injuries were pretty bad -- but nothing life-threatening with treatment. He wanted Kalerary’s internal bleeding checked out, though, and that wasn’t something that he could do.

There was also the problem of his own injuries. His chest stung badly enough that it took a conscious effort not to tear up from the pain and he knew that Kale wasn’t the only one with a messed up chest. He was doing his best to hide that because he didn’t think Tr’esn would be able to handle knowing how severely injured he was… but the sooner they got to more help, the better. Just because he had a high pain threshold did not mean he was up for working on a bunch of patients. In fact, he was already starting to get dizzy. Not… good.

[Avu]

As soon as possible. It made sense. Tr'esn swallowed, nauseous, avoiding looking directly at Kalerary just in case the sight of blood coating his hands triggered the nausea, and then nodded weakly, reaching for Oquith's mind with a light touch -- a touch that the green, pressing tightly against him mentally, felt and responded to instantly. I am to come, now? Her voice was taut with eagerness -- an eagerness to be able to curl up around Hers again and nuzzle him over just to make sure he hadn't been hurt, even though the immediate danger had passed for time being. Checkoth was good, too, but the brown wasn't Hers, and she wanted Hers, right now. Tr'esn, absently watching Jabari get handed over to Mer -- anywhere was better than looking at Kalerary and what he was doing -- nodded unconsciously, not even realizing the green wouldn't be able to see him. But the movement signaled approval, and Oquith felt that. Very well, then. Mine, listen to R'wignCheck's, what did he say? Where do I fly to, where am I going?

Making an active effort to focus, Tr'esn exhaled slowly, twitching his head to make his hair obey his desire and move out of his eyes. Crinkling his nose at the offending curls, Tr'esn nodded slowly at R'wign. "She's coming...and, um...Checkoth's coming too, isn't he?" Much as he wanted to see his green, he didn't like the idea of her flying all alone, even though Benden had retreated. Swallowing, the greenweyrling, trying to be as gentle as he could, shifted the cloth to check on the bleeding -- and was promptly swept by a wave of fresh nausea as the blood welled up instantly against her ear, staining the cloth with the bright crimson. His stomach twisted, almost painfully, and Tr'esn felt his head start to pound, very much aware that if he decided to move at that particular moment, his stomach could and would protest. Closing his eyes for the moment, the greenweyrling leaned back against a rock, cheek turning sideways against the wet cold stone. "And um...I can help in the Infirmary as long as there's no...blood...like -- like, bringing supplies, or something, I don't know..." he added, barely keeping the quaver out of his voice. Blood -- was just something he couldn't take. But he didn't want to leave R'wign, either -- it felt like a betrayal, and he didn't know who else to cling to, and he'd panic if he was alone. Reasonably, he could find K'iel or Vashti, since he felt safe with them, too, but he didn't know if they were hurt and part of him didn't want to know.

Checkoth, Check, are you coming? Please come: I don't want to go alone and I don't want to leave you. The green was already on her feet, tail flicking in excitement as she crooned quietly, her muzzle running the length of the brown's neck as she nudged him once again, but instead of waiting, padded towards the weyrledge. She stood, for a moment, unmoving, hesitating as the canyon spilled out below her. Gaze seeking the Weyrling Barracks, the small dragon flicked her wings open, half-expecting to be hit from above by a Benden dragon, and then sidled off of the ledge into the air, the wind spilling around the edges of her wings as she floated. Her wings still hurt a bit, from the overenthusiastic maneuvers from her flight, but it was more or less ignored as superficial, being little more than a twinge as she closed her wings, gliding downwards with a backward glance for Checkoth, rounding the main front of the Weyrling Barracks and sliding to a stop next to the rock in her anxiety, forgetting her usual careful landings. Neck arching slightly, Oquith flicked her tail, crooning shyly to Behruth and offering him a greeting before she peeped cautiously over R'wign's shoulder. If they're still bleeding, won't it hurt them to fly, R'wignCheck's? the green asked nervously, folding her legs as she flopped down next to the rock, head arching backwards to nuzzle Hers affectionately.

Tr'esn nearly dropped the bandages and flung himself at Oquith there and then as her muzzle rubbed along his back, her tongue flickering out lightly. "Hi," he said softly, leaning his cheek against the green's muzzle lightly. "Is Checkoth coming?" he added, louder, for R'wign's benefit as well as Mer's, though the question wasn't directed at said Candidate. It might be taken as rude, how he never directly addressed her, but Tr'esn was just that way: He wasn't comfortable with new people and he didn't like meeting new people, either. It was too awkward and too stiff. He hesitated, and then winced at the sight of M'ta -- namely, his hand. Fingernails -- missing -- was that -- did they regrow? MineLove, focus, Oquith crooned softly, and Tr'esn exhaled, removing the bandage from Kalerary's face cautiously again. At least that slash had slowed in the bleeding.

[Rowana]

Merridan gingerly took Jabari, both because she didn't want to hurt him and because her arm was starting to throb. It would be hard to help this way, but at least her hand still worked, so long as she didn't move the arm too much. When she had him secure in her lap with the needle in her right hand, she looked up to listen to R'wign's instructions. She nodded grimly and tried not to betray her nerves.

Like sewing?! One of those things the old bag Haeli tried to teach her? Great, just great. She was almost as bad at sewing as she was at cooking. She frowned down at Jabari and bit her lip. She had just watched R'wign do this, it couldn't be that hard. She only hoped she wouldn't hurt the little fellow. With painstaking slowness and intense concentration, Mer set to work. She was so engrossed that she didn't notice R'wign's look in her direction and only barely registered his conversation with Tr'esn. Stitch by careful stitch, she made her way to the end of Jabari's wound.

Finally, she breathed deep again. Her stitches were bigger than the healer's and messier. Someone might even want to take them out and redo them if they're was time. But the wound was closed and the bleeding had stopped. Mer scanned over Jabari's body, looking to see if she had left any gaps in her work or if he had any other injuries. Her fingers were covered in small pricks from the needle, but at least she had been able to do her part. She had always been willing to do whatever needed to be done, even if she didn't like it.

Tr'esn's green dragon had arrived when she looked up. Good, it looked like they would be ready to leave soon. Mer had to admit, she would be glad to get out of the rain and put on a fresh shirt. She did hope the other dragon came too, though, she wasn't sure if they would all be able to fit on two, if M'ta's brown was willing to carry them. It was hard to tell with his rider unconscious. How far was this weyr? Mer looked to the other two. "Is it safe for them to fly?" she asked in concern. Having never flown herself, she had no idea how smooth or uncomfortable it might be. But then, she corrected herself, R'wign probably wouldn't have suggested it if it wasn't safe.

[glamourie]

“Yes, Checkoth is coming as well.” The brown was positively itching to be near him, though R’wign was smart enough not to point that out. He was sure Tr’esn was asking to reassure himself in some way, but truthfully, R’wign thought the answer obvious. The brown was practically writhing in nervousness; he’d so-disliked it that R’wignHis left him to start with. Fearful, he was, even though the Evils were gone. He could feel R’wign’s pain and that made him nervous. R’wign tried to soothe him with mental reassurances, but considering that he felt like he could faint at any time, it wasn’t all that bizarre that Checkoth didn’t believe him. R’wign didn’t even believe himself. The pain was also steadily getting worse, and he had to consciously keep himself from coughing. “He doesn’t want Oquith to fly all on her own, he’s worried about her.” And him, but R’wign, again, held his tongue. Being sore meant he was cranky, and it wouldn’t be right to take that out on Tr’esn. Marra and Religna being dead didn’t help him not to feel… worthless. Yes, that was the best description for it. Worthless. Because only a worthless man would be unable to protect the only two women in his life.

The rest of what Tr’esn said was momentarily ignored as a whirl of pain flashed through R’wign’s chest that he ignored. His gaze -- one eyed though it was -- lingered on M’ta’s form. It looked… painful, but nothing life threatening after Mer’s attempts at first aid. Thankfully. Only after a heartbeat did he realize that… he didn’t answer, or comment, on what the greenrider had said. The distraction wasn’t personal. “There will be blood,” he said honestly. “And a lot of it. People are badly hurt.” He turned his head to look at his classmate, then added gently, “We’ll need you despite that. You’ll have to learn to deal with your blood aversion, at least for awhile… the people who will need your help the most will be the ones covered in it, most likely.” Maybe that wasn’t what Tr’esn wanted to hear, but someone just ferrying about carrying supplies would be in the way more than anything else… and Tr’esn was uninjured. That made him candidate number one for make-shift healer.

While their riders were talking, Checkoth was watching Oquith. As she moved out of the weyr, he threw himself off the ledge after her, surprised to find that his wings worked despite a small amount of stiffness lingering in them. Don’t worry, I’m coming. I hope the Mothfeline is not angry with us, he replied as he swiveled around, raising high into the air before circling down to land near the group. Hurriedly, the brown scurried over to nudge his rider with an obvious enthusiasm, his entire body rubbing against Behruth’s in the process. Everyone who knew the two browns knew of their obvious fondness for one another. There was no dragon Checkoth enjoyed spending time with more. From the whirl in his eyes, it was also plain as day that Checkoth was worried -- probably for ‘ShortyRuth’s’ as he called him.

It almost amused R’wign that both females present asked the same question. Almost. As it was, his nerves were so frazzled that he couldn’t help but shrug helplessly. “We don’t really have much of an option. We leave them here, we run the risk of infection, and I can’t treat them like this. None of us can carry them. That really only leaves the option of flying,” he said, then tilted his head up toward Oquith. “We’ll have to fly straight, and try to go as steadily as possible. It’s the only choice we have that I can see. I mean… unless you two have a better option, I’m all ears.” As he spoke, he turned back to check the makeshift bandages on M’ta and winced visibly. Ouch. “We can’t properly stitch them up when there’s rain, dirt and who knows what else. Infections everywhere. Jabari is a little easier, being a flit, but even then we’ll have to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t develop even the slightest infection. M’ta and Kalerary are both in bad shape, and so are you -” He nodded toward Mer, “- so we’re going to have to go somewhere. Just one of me doesn’t work… How’s Jabari, by the way?”

[Avu]

Moth looked appropriately distressed at having been left alone by her two safeguards. The white feline’s indignant meowing call followed Checkoth and Oquith into the air, but the feline made no move, fur rising until she resembled more than anything else a little puff of rather dilapidated fluff, scruffy as her fur was, before scrambling to her paws and wobbling towards the bed again. The dragons’ shrieking, warbling death-cries had ceased by that point, but she was still suitably frightened and annoyed. Moth was not a fan of unnecessary loud noises, and from her point of view – she’d entirely missed the panic, assuming that the general air of panic in the room was because of the loud noises – the screams were unnecessary. Shame on them, being so loud…

He probably could have guessed that – Checkoth was a dragon, too, and Oquith’s need to be near him couldn’t possibly be unique only to her – but Tr’esn desperately needed verbal reassurance. For one, it broke the silence, and by this point, Tr’esn was frightened of silence. Silence was…darkness, loneliness, and it typically heralded bad news. And, two, it meant that he couldn’t assume things and assume wrongly without being corrected – it saved trouble, in the long run. He nodded, leaning over Kalerary and wiping away a smear of blood on the girl’s cheek – which he assumed had come from her mouth, but it was hard to be sure when her face was torn up so badly. Worried about Oquith. Just…just Oquith? Probably R’wign, too, even if the brownrider hadn’t outright said so, as well as Behruth. They were friends, weren’t they? Tr’esn turned over the cloth in his hand, his stomach turning in a motion that he thought was much the same as the bandage’s as he pressed the clean side to Kalerary’s ear, the blood-soaked cloth directly against his skin. For a moment, he almost literally threw up, and then deliberately cut off that part of his mind.

As long as he didn’t think about it…

He’d barely registered the silence that followed his offer, busy swallowing the nausea and squeezing his eyes shut, but when R’wign finally replied, Tr’esn nearly choked, eyes widening in shock. Blood – he just couldn’t handle blood. For a moment, he thought his throat was stuck; then he stammered out, “I – I can’t, I’ll throw up or something…I’ll – I can’t…it’s…” It was more than just a ‘blood aversion’; if it was possible to be phobic about large amounts of blood and people’s insides, Tr’esn was sure he had it. Little cuts, he was okay with, but that was about all. “I mean, I’ll try, but…” But – what, exactly? He couldn’t promise anything…he was sure he’d vomit, but he hadn’t eaten in a while – just the klah, and only a bit at that. Now he was wishing he hadn’t drank or eaten anything at all, though…if he did throw up, he’d only make more work for the Healers, and…and he owed R’wign, he really did. Lowering his head, Tr’esn bit his lip awkwardly, focusing on Kalerary and trying to force himself not to think about himself and the blood. If he could pretend someone else was doing this, maybe it’d be a bit better…?

Oquith’s croon as Checkoth landed and rubbed against Behruth was high, clearly audible as the green leaned casually against the cold stone rock, head nudging Hers on the shoulder affectionately, her warm breath huffing against his cheek as her eyes whirled rapidly at R’wign’s answer. She understood that…she supposed. How much weight the tiny green could carry, though, was subject to question; Oquith just wasn’t big enough to carry too much. Of the conscious people, Tr’esn weighed the least, and Oquith wouldn’t leave without him, so he’d have to come with her, to make sure her unconscious passenger stayed on – Kalerary, perhaps? Kalerary was smallest, too. As long as it was a straight – literally straight – flight, Oquith was steady enough. Changing direction without going between was what bothered the green most as far as flying went.

It was Tr’esn who spoke, though, as Oquith’s eyes whirled thoughtfully. “Should I try and get Kalerary on Oquith, right now?” The question was hesitant. “Aslath’s Weyr – that’s ground level, we can find her something to lay on inside, so she won’t be rained on anymore…? And wait for you? I can stop her bleeding there as easily as I can here…” His voice barely disguised a quaver. Bleeding. If he didn’t think about it, it was much, much easier.

[Rowana]

Merridan nodded at R'wign's explanation. He was right, of course, the fast M'ta and Kale got proper treatment the better, even if it meant moving them. She frowned as he spoke, though. Now that she was looking at him more closely, he looked like he could use a healer too. Loosing an eye wasn't something you could just brush off. At the mention of her own injury, Mer glanced down at her arm then looked away quickly. The rain had made the blood run in ugly ribbons across her skin. She was pretty sure it looked worse than it was, but now that she was reminded of it, the throbbing was starting to get worse.

To keep her mind off it, she concentrated on answer R'wign's next question first. "I think he's alright." She stroked Jabari's head gently with a finger. "I can hold him when we fly." She glanced at Tr'esn as he babbled. Hopefully he could get over his problem with blood, because there was sure going to be a lot of it. If he took Kale on the green, that left two browns to carry R'wign, M'ta, Jabari, and her. R'wign was probably going to have to ride with M'ta, but were the young dragons strong enough to carry three?

Mer stood slowly so as not to upset her balance, holding Jabari with her good arm. "Should I ride with you and M'ta? Or I can walk if you need me to." She nodded at Jabari. "He's not that heavy and I only need a few stitches." She wanted to say that R'wign should worry more about himself, but she bit her tongue. She had to defer to him on these matters and she could tell he wouldn't listen about that. At least if they got to the triage, one of the other healers might force him to sit down and have his wounds properly tended.

[glamourie]

“You won’t throw up,” R’wign replied without looking at Tr’esn. It was hard not to twitch, but he managed. Had he ever been adverse to blood…? Not that he could recall, though he distinctly remembered being very uncomfortable about the sight of burnt flesh oozing puss and infections. That was alarming. Blood - blood flow meant the person was still alive, and could still be saved. In some ways, to him, it was comforting. “You’ve just got to get used to it. Blood isn’t always a bad thing. It’s a sign that the heart is still pumping - your patient is still alive. It’s not a good thing -- but it’s not worth getting sick over.” R’wign actually intended to teach Tr’esn about healing - if only the basic stuff. “You’re a dragon rider now, Tr’esn; you’re going to get hurt from time to time. Blood, burns, and some day you may even have to deal with ichor. It’s better to learn to tighten your stomach early. You’ll be expected to know basic first aid - and that’s dealing with blood. You’re going to be up in the air fighting Thread, and Oquith is wicked fast; she’s going to be an asset… but you need to be ready because you’re going to get injured. Just expect it. Learning early to accept that blood is natural is one of the best defenses you can have.” His hand moved down to check under the bandages on M’ta’s neck, just to make sure. “I try to think of it as a reminder that my patient can be saved. If they’re bleeding, they’re still alive - and therefore, they’re not beyond all hope. It makes blood seem almost like a relief.”

A shadow cast over him as Checkoth came closer, and R’wign unconsciously exhaled; a breath he didn’t even realize he’d taken. It was just… comforting to have him closer. Close enough to touch. He didn’t, though. In fact, R’wign simply turned his head to look at Tr’esn again, finally giving the greenrider most of his attention. Whether that was a good thing or not depended on the person’s viewpoint, though; R’wign could be very ornery when he wanted to be. Not usually when people were dying all around him, though. That tended to stifle his sense of humor most efficiently.

“I know you’re scared. Terrified. I think everyone was, and still is. Whether they’re gone, or here, it doesn’t matter. Everyone is scared. But letting that fear dominate you won’t do any good. It hurts you. It hurts Oquith, too.” His head turned and he looked at Mer for a moment before his focus went back to M’ta. “Those of us who aren’t mutilated beyond recognition are going to need all of our hands. I can tell from the fire, from the smell of burning in the air, the explosion, and I could hear it in the keening. Letting fear keep you from doing what you need to do, from saving lives, will just make you miserable in the long run. Think of it this way: You’ll have to deal with a little blood, yes, but once the majority of the patients are stabilized, you can watch them heal and know that they’re alive because of you. Because you cared enough to do something about it, because you were strong enough to step up. Being afraid is normal, and there’s nothing cowardly about it. Cowardice comes in running. You don’t strike me as a runner, Tr’esn, and I’ve got utmost faith in you.”

As he finished speaking, the brown weyrlingrider turned back to Mer and nodded his head slowly. “You can ride with me and M’ta on Check, yeah. He’s strong enough to carry the three of us.” M’ta was small. That helped. “You did good work with him - Jabari, I mean. Thank you for that.” Slowly moving to a proper kneeling position, he looked M’ta over, then turned to Mer again. “I’m going to need help lifting him, he’s not conscious anymore, and we’re going to have to be very careful. You can probably put Jabari on his stomach. I’m betting that he’d appreciate that anyway.” Jabari and M’ta were close. Like him and Roxie. R’wign could totally sympathize with wanting fire lizards near; he longed to curl up in a ball and cuddle his. “Can you help me get his legs, please?”

Ciceroth’s and Hepaticath’s are already at Aslath’s weyr, Checkoth informed Tr’esn directly, so that R’wignHis could focus on his task. They are getting it ready to be an infirmary. Ciceroth’s wants his hatchling near him as soon as possible. I bet he’ll be happy you helped her. He didn’t normally bespeak anyone but R’wign but Oquith’s seemed safe, and he was obviously upset. Thank you for helping R’wignmine, Tr’esnQui’s. Crooning, he flipped his tails and then leaned his body down against the ground to make mounting much easier. He would have to fly as steadily as he could to not hurt anyone or dislodge them. A project! Oh, but he’d been practicing, he had. Time to put that practice to good work.

[Avu]

…what? He wouldn’t…throw up? But he would; Tr’esn was already nauseous. Actually, he was surprised he hadn’t vomited already. Nevertheless, R’wign’s statement helped calm the greenrider slightly, and Tr’esn shakily wiped away another streak of blood from Kalerary’s cheek with the blood-stained bandage. She definitely wasn’t any older than perhaps nine; she’d survived. She’d even saved R’wign, and him – had she been as terrified as Tr’esn, both he and R’wign would very likely be dead. He swallowed, large gray eyes flickering towards R’wign uncertainly as the brownrider continued to talk. Blood – burns – Threadfall. The mention of ichor, though, had his stomach dropping into a queasy hell. Ichor meant Oquith, and if he saw Oquith hurt – if he felt her pain – he wouldn’t be able to stand it. If it saved Oquith, fine – he’d try not to get nauseous at the sight of blood. But it was easier said than done; the minute he thought of the thick, sticky wetness on his hands as blood, the nausea sharpened. Much easier when he didn’t think about it…but then, he hadn’t thought of it as a good thing, ever. He associated blood with pain, and he suspected that it was the pain that made him want to shy away, not the blood itself.

Tr’esn exhaled, a soft, shuddering breath, and scrunched his knees closer to his chest as Oquith crooned audibly, but he kept his eyes on R’wign as he wet his lips, warily checking on Kalerary’s ear again. The blood had stained the bandage, a brilliant red shade that was reminiscent of paint – a grotesquely painted scene. He cringed visibly at the mention of hurting Oquith; how could he? He’d never, ever consciously hurt the green…but he was, wasn’t he? She was terrified, but most of that…was because he was terrified. He inhaled, the cool, rain-washed air calming him measurably; the warm, blood-soaked air inside of the Weyr had made him feel sick – a sickness that had less to do with the blood and more to the closed-in, stifling quality of the place. R’wign’s conclusion drew a faint, slightly wry smile from the greenrider, and he shifted the bandage again, trying to soak up the last of the blood. No, he wasn’t a runner – instead, he froze, which, in his opinion, was just as bad. But he did have to try…just try his best, and…and maybe he’d surprise himself. Maybe.

“Thank you.” It was all he could think of to say, and he spoke so softly that he almost doubted R’wign would hear him.

As R’wign rapped out orders to Mer, the greenrider’s attention was directed to Kalerary again. Head wounds bled a lot, didn’t they…? Did ear wounds count? The slash on her cheek had mostly stopped, and her ear…he took a deep breath, examining the cut tentatively. It was…disgusting. Whether or not it could be…fixed, he didn’t know. But he could – R’wign could – figure that out later; right now, he needed to get Kalerary on Oquith. The green provided a very smooth flight, considering her lack of ‘rudder’ – her tail lacked the spade that most dragons had – as long as she didn’t try to turn; but she could always aim herself directly towards Aslath’s weyr – and her landings oughtn’t to jolt Kalerary too badly, either. Not that it mattered, Tr’esn reminded himself, weakly catching his mental thoughts. She was still unconscious. Would she wake…?

How exactly did one hold a very hurt child? Awkwardly sliding his arms in the typical carrying fashion, one tucking under Kalerary’s knees and the other supporting her back, the greenrider shifted cautiously backwards, letting the girl’s weight settle on his chest. He wasn’t very strong…but fortunately, the exercises they’d been forced to do during Weyrling Lessons had helped considerably – running and lugging around sacks of firestone did that to you – and he managed to make his way to Oquith’s side as the green sprawled as flat as she could against the ground, crooning anxiously. I haven’t straps – is that still okay? Assuring Oquith it was, Tr’esn draped Kalerary awkwardly onto the green’s neck; he’d fix her position once he was mounted himself. Just as he was about to, Checkoth’s voice rang out in his mind and Tr’esn nearly twitched in surprise.

“Ciceroth’s…oh…” A Wingleader. ‘His hatchling’ – did that mean Kalerary was…Ciceroth’s Rider’s daughter? The brown’s thanks was largely inappropriate, in Tr’esn’s mind, given that he’d done more or less nothing but tag along after R’wign, but he smiled weakly at Checkoth nonetheless. “It’s…I didn’t really do much, Check…” He was using Oquith’s name for the brown, but he didn’t notice it…“Thanks to you, too.” Swinging neatly up behind Kalerary, Tr’esn winced as he realized the bleeding had begun again, instinctively pressing his sleeve against the girl’s face as he righted her position. It was…rather uncomfortable, knowing that he was probably getting blood all over him, and he was distinctly nauseous, still, clinging to Oquith’s mind in order not to panic as the unconscious ‘brat’s body weight fell upon him. Checkoth, Check…when Yours isn’t too busy, can you ask him if Mine is holding Ciceroth’s hatchling right? He doesn’t want to hurt her…and are we going right now?