In shock [open]

[Ruby]

A day or two had passed since Fort was driven away, and plenty of people were still in the Infirmary. Piden had been, and had been released, his cracked collar bone immobilized by a sling. "Rest" was his prescription, and fellis if the pain got too bad. The first day had been brutal, but now the Handler was simply annoyed. He certainly wasn't here for a collar bone- it smelled funny, and people were rude. Piden disliked both.

Red, however, had him worried. The salamandyr had gone silent sometime into Fort's attack, and hadn't moved or spoken since. She hadn't eaten either, or frilled, or thrown up from terror (all of which were much more concerning to Piden). He'd even dug out an old red scarf and waved it in front of her face to no avail. She wasn't dead, he'd checked her pulse as well as you can in something so small, and Pidesk said he could tell she was alive. Come to think of it, so could Piden, but he imagined that losing a mind-mate would be much like this: a cold stone in his head, where her lively mind usually sat. No matter the diagnosis, not good.

Piden had hoped she'd get better, but the red scarf was the last straw. She was called Red for a reason: namely, because the color red drove her into a full-on ragetantrum. Always. Even red hair was a problem. Luckily for Piden, she didn't consider his hair quite red, although really it was. So it was that in the middle of the night, inwardly sobbing little a little girl, Piden sauntered into the Infirmary like he owned the place, Red draped lifelessly over one arm. "I've got a question," he said to the apprentice at the desk, looking vaguely over their head. It was possible that Piden was more terrified than he was when he found out he was going to be a father (to which he had responded, "Oh. Are you taking it between?" without even batting an eyelash).

[Tashe]

Isma you've got to trust me. You know my specialties. I do trust you. "So let me continue and help me by doing your stretches. You won't get fighting fit without wing rehabilitation." He was tired, and he really didn't want to fight with his Dragon. In addition to his Night shifts, and leading his uninjured Dragons and riders in Wing drills, he came to the Infirmary to work with Ismaroth. The Brown had refused to be treated by anyone other than his Rider, but even then it had been an uphill battle. Both E'rro and the Brown had been agitated ever since the attack, both feeling responsible for different things that happened during their first stunt as official Wingleaders. The only solace they received was that none of their Wingriders had died on their watch, but E'rro hadn't been so lucky when it came to protecting the healers under his watch.

Now, in the past deaths hadn't bothered him. But for some reason, the young girl's death settled heavily on his shoulders. He had gotten soft for the Southerners. That was his only explanation. In the years he had been living at Selenitas, he had gradually come to think himself no longer a Northerner. He belonged to Selenitas, and he was extremely loyal to them as well. Reaching out, he helped his Dragon stretch his wing upward. Gently applying pressure, he held the wing there for a moment before letting Ismaroth drop it carefully. Now stretch it out as far as you can and hold it for five seconds. He eyed the Brown's shoulder joint from his position on his neck, watching the muscles move under the skin. Ismaroth's external injuries had healed, leaving silvery scars where the enemy's teeth had bitten down. His Dragon had lost a lot of ichor and when E'rro had got to patching him up, the Brown's condition had deteriorated. Although it hadn't been touch and go, the Senior Apprentice Dragonhealer had to use almost all of his knowledge to get Isma back to a less frightening position.

Sliding down, E'rro patted his Dragon on the leg with a sigh. Please continue. I need to sleep. You've only got a few stretches left, and you don't need my help. Alright. I don't want you to keel over. "Thanks..." Departing from his mindmate's side, he wove his way back to the human side of the Infirmary. So intent was he on getting out, he nearly forgot to update Ismaroth's recovery chart. Walking over to where a junior apprentice was sitting, he slid the chair to the side with his boot in his attempt to get at the charts, making the apprentice squeak. As he disappeared onto his knees, he heard someone (a man by the voice) address the apprentice he had just scooted over. Retrieving his charts the Brownrider stood and flipped them over marking down the time and date. Without looking up from the hides, which he was double checking, he responded subconsciously to the man before the Apprentice could. "Is there something we can help you with?"

[Ruby]

Ah yes, much better. Piden might not like authority, but he did like experts, especially when it came to fixing his things. Immediately disregarding the junior apprentice who was already scurrying to look busy now that his superior was nearby, Piden fixed his gaze on E'rro. "Oh, we'll see, I suppose," he said flippantly, desperately trying to cover up sheer panic. What if there was nothing to be done for Red? What would he do? There had to be something, she simply had to be ok.

Gently stretching the tiny green Salamandyr out between two hands, totally in contrast to his manner before, he held her out towards E'rro. Although he was still outwardly totally composed, his hands trembled. "I don't want to take up time you need for people who actually need help, but... there's something wrong with my Salamandyr. Red," he offered, as if her name helped. "She hasn't moved since the other day... we were trapped in the Hatching Grounds, and she just stopped moving and talking. She hasn't eaten, but I'm pretty sure she's still alive. She just won't react."

Taking a deep breath, Piden put the armor back up. "So, I don't know. Can you snap her out of it?" he asked, disassociated drawl back in his voice. She'd be alright. Of course she would.

[Tashe]

Fingers met fabric as E'rro caught the Junior apprentice before she could escape. Holding her captive as he flipped the hides back into order, the Brownrider gave her the charts to refile. "Stay." He turned to the Wherhandler when he began talking. Once his eyes strayed from the Mandyr to the man's hands, but it was a momentary flicker. Being a person who often oozed indifference, he had been able to pick out slip ups in people's masks. To him, it was obvious that the Handler cared about his Mandyr. But even if he hadn't noticed the shaking, or the slight turn in voice, he knew exactly how Mandyrs wreaked havoc on the emotions. It would simply be impossible to be so calm in the face of a Mindmate in distress. "I am actually off shift right now." He paused before looking at the man's face, knowing it was better to play along with the guy's armor. "But I'll look at Red for you." Turning to the Junior apprentice, "Get a healing station ready. Fold a soft cloth for her to lay on." He watched as the other Apprentice scrambled off to prepare a table for him.

"This started after the attack on the hatching grounds?" Gently taking the Green Salamandyr from the other man, E'rro cradled her in his cupped hand. Piden wouldn't be here if the Salamandyr was dead, because he would have known exactly when it happened. "Follow me please." Walking away from the filing area, the Senior Apprentice noted where the girl had gone and headed over to the table. Laying Red on the cloth, E'rro pulled over a low stool for later. Carefully peeling back her eye lids, he noted their color then ran his fingers along her body checking for brakes or dislocations. "You were at the Hatching grounds? As I recall hearing, there was a fire there. I need to know what happened to Red in that time." Moving from her back to her neck, he checked for injuries there. From what he could tell, there wasn't anything external that could have caused her current state. Glancing up, he looked over his shoulder. "Nuisance, come here." A moment or so later a small Blue Mandyr glided over. "Nui, listen to her breathing." The Blue bobbed his head and crawled over to the Green, putting his head near her side. Small small raspy. "Do you know much smoke Red got exposed to?"

Nuisance crawled over to the Green's head with a small chirp, wondering why she wasn't moving much. Little Greenling, wakewake? Worried yours is. Not feeling good? Although the Mandyr didn't know if he was going to get a response.

[Ruby]

"Oh, if you're off shift, I can..." Piden trailed off, not really wanting to offer the idea that he could come back another time. He just wanted to be thought of as polite- that tended to be useful, especially when people were helping you. But the Healer was already sending the Apprentice on to set up a room, and he'd promised to take a look. The Handler suppressed a sigh. She'd be alright. She'd be alright. He allowed E'rro to take her off his hands with only slight hesitation before a "Thank you"; the man obviously knew what he was doing, even if Piden didn't like giving her up. The green was still limp as a rag, not even the tip of her tail twitching.

Once his hands were free, Piden set to adjusting his clothing with a vengance, even catching a glimpse of himself in something shiny long enough to re-toussle his hair. He'd been so worried he hadn't even checked his mirror before leaving the apartments, which was totally unheard of for him. His cream-colored shirt needed adjusting, his belt was one hole too loose, his collar was folded under- unacceptable. He kept fiddling with the rolled up cuff on his immobilized arm as he followed E'rro over to the prepared healing station. It was hot even at night, these days. Shifting his attention back to the Healer, he fixed his eyes on Red and kept fiddling. "Yes, after the Hatching Grounds. Red is... well, terrified, even at the best of times. Anything larger or louder than her freaks her out. That adds up to a lot of things, at a Weyr," he added, with a little uncomfortable laugh. "You know how the Kitchens have been complaining about a rash of missing hand towels? That's me. If she gets too scared, Red looses her lunch. Which adds up to a lot of dirty hand towels."

He watched carefully as the other man poked and prodded, obviously anxious now. "Well, anyway, she likes to hide in my collar when she sees something scary. Which was pretty much the whole time we were in the Hatching Grounds, with so many dragons and people around. So she was just in my collar the whole time, and eventually I remember noticing that she wasn't shivering anymore. We were by the entrance mostly", he said, watching Nuisance examine her. That was a comfort, that the Healer had a Mandyr of his own. Red didn't respond to the Blue's prodding, though. "Except... except a few idiot Weyrlings were trying to take some injured Whers out the back entrance. I was trying to stop them, and we were right near the fire. But still, she was in my shirt, she shouldn't have had that much smoke. She was still in there when I got thrown from Pidesk, too, hence this," he gestured at the sling, "But she hadn't been moving for a while before that."

[Tashe]

Sitting down on the low stool E'rro propped his chin on his fingers, his mind running through and sifting the information that Piden had offered him. Normally reactive, off her feed, hasn't moved. The Green had gone through a traumatic experience and exposed to a good amount of smoke for a Salamandyr, which might not seem at all much for a human. No movement, silence, withdrawn. Pressing his crossed fingers against his lips, he sighed before opening his eyes and standing up again. He knew what was wrong, it should have been obvious as soon as he had gotten Red onto the table. Turning to the Wherhandler, E'rro let one of his hands trail on the table while the other hung at his side. "Your Salamandyr is in shock. The good news is that unlike Physical Shock, Psychological shock is not fatal." He shifted his focus back onto Red, carefully folding the soft towel around her the Senior Apprentice Dragonhealer picked the bundle up carefully and cradled it in his arms.

"The bad news." He paused slightly before continuing, "There is no one, easy way to treat Psychological shock." If she had been a Dragon or a Wher, where there were documented cases of Shock and recovery, he would have a basis where to stand on treatment. But, as far as he knew, Red was the first Salamandyr to ever have a severe case of shock. "But there are treatments. Shock is an emotional state, often brought on by traumatic experiences. Here." Carefully offering the towel wrapped Mandyr to her mindmate, E'rro waited until Piden took her before continuing. "Right now, it would be best to keep her warm and comfortable. A well padded towel over warmed stones, not hot because the heat will transfer throughout the towels." He offered his hand to Nuisance, who scurried up his arm and sat on his shoulder. "Surround her with things she is comfortable with, things that make her feel safe. Whats holding her in this state is fear, and she needs to have that fear broken." Crossing his arms he leveled his gaze onto the Bronzerider's face. "Talk to her. Often times the voices of the people that a Shock patient loves is eventually enough to bring them around. Sing, read, do what ever. Keep her close to you. Touch her often."

"If her shock doesn't break by the sixth candle mark in the evening tomorrow, bring her in. I will be on shift between the sixth and the tenth candle mark, and will be back on again between the fourth and the sixth candle mark in the morning." His line of sight didn't waver. "The same treatments would continue, but here we can start feeding her so she doesn't become malnourished. She needs to be constantly watched. The more time you can spend with her the better." He broke his watchful gaze in favor of glancing in the direction of a metallic clatter. Someone had dropped a tray. "Let me show you how to give Red water, she can live for a while with out food, but not water. We'll use Nuisance, so you can get a feel for what it's like." A pause. "I'm sorry that there is nothing I can do right away."

[Ruby]

Piden planted his feet and squared his shoulders, ready to hear the worst. That way, when it wasn't the worst, he'd be happy, right? Reaching out one handed (mainly to give himself some reason to avoid looking at E'rro), he tucked the tiny bundle in his sling, gently sliding Red towards his elbow so he could still see her face. He allowed E'rro's words to wash over him, filing them away for future contemplation- now was simply not the time. She would be alright, and that was what mattered. Not fatal. He clung to those words with a ferocity that surprised even himself- how had he come to love his little annoyance so much?

He was paying enough attention to know that he needed to take really good care of her, keep her warm, and make her feel totally safe. He realized he'd probably been so worried, he HADN'T been doing that; he'd probably been freaking her out worse, with all his troubles. Alright, that was something that he could do. Talking, touching... Pidesk would be totally up for cuddling, which would help. Maybe he could convince someone to bring him meals and leave them outside the door, so he'd never have to leave. He shook his head a tiny bit, tying to clear it. What had gotten into him? He didn't even like his parents this much. Pidesk having this sort of effect on him wouldn't be a surprise, since Piden had come to terms with THAT long ago, but Red still was. How many times had he yelled at her for biting him in the night, or barfing on his favorite shirt?

Nothing he could do about it now, though. Piden met E'rro's eyes, trying to look confident instead of scared shelless. He nodded at each new instruction, not examining them but still making an effort to remember. "Who should I ask for?" he asked, glancing away just as the try hit the ground. Piden tried not to flinch, and mostly succeeded. He nodded again at the suggestion about water- he'd been worried about that. He was doing alright, managing to hide his worry, his frank fear... until the last part.

E'rro's apology broke the last of Piden's thin armor. He dropped his face, forcing a half-choked "Oh, it's quite alright," out past the block that rose suddenly in his throat. He blinked rapidly, trying to calm himself, to keep tears from falling. Years of practice meant it worked, and Piden recovered quickly, although he was still mortified at his failure. "Show me," he commanded roughly, gesturing at E'rro without looking at him. Oh, there was NO WAY Piden was coming back here unless Red got worse.

[Tashe]

"Ask for either Dragonhealer Kalierre or Journeyman R'wign, if you come during the day shift." Clasping his hands behind his back, E'rro continued. "At night ask for myself, E'rro, or for Journeywoman Mayari." There was a two hour period in the night where neither he nor Mayari were on shift. But if it came down to it, the nightstaff could send a runner to wake either of them from their well needed sleep. An eyebrow rose in surprise, and amusement as Piden commanded him. Yes, the other man might be older, but in all technicality he had a higher rank than the Wherhandler. As a healer in the infirmary, he had the ability to order people around if it came down to his craft, not to mention outside of the Infirmary he was a Wingleader. But for the sake of the other man, he restrained from commenting on the Piden's tone. Bowing slightly, he moved to collect the item he needed.

Returning with a modified needlethorn syringe and a small wine skin of watter, E'rro placed Nuisance on the table and pulled over another stool for Piden to sit on. He lifted it to show the other. "Nuisance," he turned to his mandyr, "pretend to be sleeping. We're going to give you water." As the Blue flopped down and closed his eyes, E'rro pulled a little of the water into the hollow, turning it upside down to release any water. "Since they are so small, you have to be incredibly gentle. Usually Salamandyrs, when they are sleeping or unconscious, will have a slack jaw. In that case all you have to do is part their mouth like this." Using his finger, the Senior Apprentice opened Nuisance's mouth. He put the blunt end of the syringe into the Blue's mouth, he used his other hand to tilt back the head. "Now you only have to give her a few drops at a time. Nine or ten in total every three hours should be fine. Now watch." He pushed down on the plunger and let a few drops go into Nuisances mouth. "If Red doesn't swallow right away," like his Blue had, "rub her throat like this." Exposing his Salamandyr's neck a little more, he used a finger to rub his throat. "It stimulates the swallowing reflex."

Pulling back he offered the dull syringe to Piden. "Lets see you try it. Remember when rubbing the throat, you want to go softly. As if... as if you were petting a baby feline." Ew. He hated doing that. Comparing serious things to cutesie fuzzy things.

[Ruby]

Unaware of E'rro's reaction to his tone, Piden took a seat on the offered stool and watched as the healer set up the operation. Piden grimaced for a second, not liking the idea of sticking his pet with a needle, but it turned out not to be an issue. It wasn't a sharp needlethorn, just one to suck up and release liquids. Piden nodded at E'rro's explanation, watching and learning. He'd always been quick, 'smart as a whip' his mother had always said, he just never applied himself. Well, now he had a reason to know things, and this didn't look hard.

Accepting the needlethorn, he took a deep breath, trying to steady his hand. It surprised him that it was still shaking, but there was nothing he could do about it. Tucking a foot underneath himself to give himself a little more height, Piden propped his elbow on the table and carefully drew water into the needlethorn. Piden had to lay they syringe down to open Nuisance's mouth, then held it awkwardly with the index finger of his slinged arm, moving carefully so he didn't move the still-healing collar bone. Once he'd gotten the syringe in, he used the gimpy hand to tilt the Blue's head back, his body twisted to the left. It worked, though, and Piden carefully dropped one or two drops on Nuisance's tongue, putting the syringe down again to carefully stroke his throat.

Everything seemed to have gone well, as far as Piden was concerned, and he was ready to get back to his apartments. With a look at E'rro, he waited for the healer to correct or dismiss him. He was done, all he wanted to do now was leave and never see E'rro again. Not that he wasn't grateful; the healer had done a lot to soothe Piden's mind and calm him down, it was just... well, E'rro knew way too much about his hidden, soft insides, now, and that never made Piden comfortable.