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Post by glamourie on Aug 20, 2008 18:32:28 GMT -5
Talking to Aslath might be worth it if it got rid of the parasitic hatchling, Calistoth reasoned, still staring at Kalerary. She didn't like children. She also didn't like females -- regardless of species. She particularly didn't like female children. The fact that it was a girl-child quite annoyed her. Actually, Calistoth still detested Thoth's from daring to touch her Lir, never mind that it had been as much her fault as it was Beka's. No, she didn't like that girl, and she was quite of the opinion that she needed to leave and let Calistoth have Lir to herself. Not that anyone listened to her. She'd tried to explain to Hers and he'd told her she was being ridiculous. And possessive. And jealous. She fluttered her wings in agitation just from the thought and threw her head back. If her words didn't make it obvious, she wasn't fond of Aslath at all. It wasn't personal, though. Calistoth disliked all queens - and greens - and virtually anything that could be competition for her, which included some males, ironically enough. Given a choice she'd take most anything over having to talk to the Senior Queen, though. The gold was particularly annoying in Calistoth's eyes. As if she deserved any bronze more than anyone else. Pfft.
Back by the river, Ciceroth's eyes whirled, visibly flustered, and he pulled himself off the rocks before launching into the air. On wings the glide was anything but far and he swooped around, circling once before landing far enough away from the other four dragons to avoid becoming a nuisance. His wings clamped to his sides and he turned to look over at Aonith before crooning a greeting. Even among bronzes, his color was recognizable. He was very pale in coloration, with darker copper tones down his ridges, and vivid brassy highlights when hit by just the right amount of light. The edging and highlights left no denying what color dragon he was, metallic and full of shine. His gaze was settled on Jessereth, though, and there was no small amount of surprise in his eyes, which swirled rapidly from confusion, surprise, and concern.
I was trying to tell her that Rysmine suggested Aonith be moved to the dragon's side of the infirmary for proper treatment and, once she is stabilized, that Rysmine would like to speak to her rider - but tending to Aonith comes first, he replied, the explanation meant for all the dragons to hear. Jessereth was a surprise to hear and see, and he immediately informed his bonded of the brownrider's return. Ka'rys was as surprised as Ciceroth, which... could not be a good thing. Ciceroth squirmed, tail twitching in agitation. Then he swiveled his head back to Phremath, though continued that Jessereth, Aonith and Calistoth could hear him as well, Is the rider hurt, and does the dragonhealer need help? -- Jessereth, mine would like to speak to yours as soon as he's available, as well.
"Who knows?" K'lir replied, glancing over at Ciceroth as he arrived, but he did not otherwise reply; Calistoth was not relaying the messages to him, since they did not concern him at all. He was smart enough not to remind Phremath of when they first met. That would surely get him sat on. He turned his attention back to Kalierre as she took the satchel and nodded back, taking the filled bowls as instructed. He moved far enough away to empty them without a word. Some people might have found the process disgusting, but K'lir had done worse on chores as a Weyrling, and he was not about to complain if it helped Aonith recover. He was dragonrider enough to tough out most anything to see another's beast well, even if the state of the injuries was clearly the rider's fault. Yes, he most definitely wanted to hit Dorava. She was older and more experienced than him and there was never any excuse for that sort of behavior. Never. "She'll be okay, right? It's not irreversible?" He wanted to be reassured; it wasn't his dragon hurt, true enough, but K'lir hated to see any in the state Aonith was in. Even the idea of Calistoth ever being so badly hurt was repelled from his mind. It would never happen. Ever.
Showoff stirred as K'lir reached the bowls again, and then he pounced, not giving K'lir a chance to grab or stop him. The little bronze salamandyr was straight on top of K'lir's head and displayed vividly at Kalierre, his frill expanded as far as it would go. Bad, bad! Ugly, you bad! he hissed, the words broadcast for all to hear - just as Lust's had been. Evidently he heard the other salamandyr, and K'lir visibly paled. Showoff did not notice, instead prancing about on K'lir's head as if he owned it (in his opinion he did) and displayed impressively. Wasn't he the most handsome salamandyr ever seen? By far the best bronze, unlike that one. Go'way. Showoff here first. Go'way.
K'lir swatted at his head and proceeded to spin around in a circle, trying to catch Showoff under one - and then both - hands. The salamandyr ducked out of the way with a fiendish expertise, his attention focused more on the dragonhealer... literally staring right at her chest. If he was a human he'd probably have gotten smacked, and K'lir came close to doing it a few times by trying to grab him, but with no luck. No, Showoff was quite gifted when it came to escaping His.
Kalerary, meanwhile, was quite efficiently distracted by Ciceroth's landing. Her head turned and she stared at the bronze, who did not appear to notice her. She recognized him and her stomach tightened into knots. Z'hin's words made her turn around and she looked at Dorava again before glancing down at her knots on the ground. Why throw them? She was still a greenrider, was she ashamed? The little girl squinted, confused, and folded her hands in front of her. The explanation that Z'hin offered was stored away in the back of her mind; she didn't know what Ka'rys or Shmee looked like but she made a note to remember it for later dates... of who to avoid. As she was put down, she smiled up at Z'hin, then turned to whistle quietly to Hrorek. She'd been scared of him at first, but only at first. He didn't seem like he was going to hurt her, and Kalerary trusted him. A little, anyway.
To Dorava she said softly, "That is why you should call the Weyrleaders by their title; that way, you're always right." And not their name. She would never have dreamed of calling a dragonrider by their name at Fort. She would never have dreamed of speaking to them. "I will ask Kalierre what to do." Without waiting for a response, she turned and bound off toward the woman she remembered as being called that, and toward the dragon with the strange, little wings. Little wings like her arms were little. Kalerary half-skipped as she went, but she glanced back at Z'hin and Dorava, almost as if she expected to be followed. When none came, she trotted right up to K'lir and pointed at him before stating very seriously, "You're not supposed to chase your tail, silly. You don't have a tail. Why're you smacking your head?" She couldn't properly see Showoff, given the height difference and the reddish tones the bronze salamandyr held, so to Kalerary, it looked as if the greenrider was having a fit.
The south sure was odd.
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Post by reqqy on Aug 24, 2008 20:48:48 GMT -5
Might, he agreed, his tone noncommittal, and clearly suggesting that he highly doubted anything would be worth the aggravation of speaking to Aslath. Jessereth shifted on his feet, stretching his wings against a tightness bunching along his shoulders. He glanced at HinMine, who stolidly ignored him. Ever since the healers had contrived that odd system that helped the brownrider's crippled arm to function normally, he would get phantom pains along his shoulders whenever His wore the cables for long spans of time. HinMine refused to acknowledge anything, but Jessereth wasn't unintelligent. He made a mental note to push to get them settled in quickly so His could retire to their weyr and rest the arm.
Phremath dutifully relayed Aonith's message to Kalierre. The dragonhealer glanced up, her dark eyes flashing with something that was - rather unusual for her. This greenrider did not commonly display displeasure so openly. You may inform Aonith that if any one of my patients tried to pull that excuse on me, I'd ram their head so far up their arse they'd be looking up through their own throat. Just because an injured dragon thinks it's a wonderful idea to fly halfway across Pern doesn't mean a rider should cater to that foolish whim. I'm willing to overlook it, but don't start making excuses. Just don't go there.
Well, that wasn't a very nice thing to say! Phremath did a quick exercise in interpretation, and replied to Aonith. She says that's not a good excuse. Yours should not have given in to what you wanted since you were injured, and that she suggests you not talk any more about it or she'll be tempted to...respond verbally. Then, as a little side note: I don't think you want her scolding Yours. Mine says lots of bad words when she's upset, and she's scary.
Distracted by both Aonith and Calistoth's, she didn't notice Ciceroth right away, the green jumping as his mindvoice entered her head. Turning her head to look at him, Phremath took solace in Kalierre's bracing presence in the back of her mind. The green relayed his message. Kali glared at the bronze, clearly not impressed with him or his suggestions. Phremath nearly winced at the language bubbling in her head. Oh dear. Hers was upset. As respectfully as she could manage while KaliMine was still speaking in rather distressing expletives, the green replied to Ciceroth, Mine...ummm. She says she knows where the infirmary is? Ummm. Maybe she should have thought this out a little more before starting. And we'll get Aonith over there as soon as she's not - Another round of words she couldn't possibly repeat. - not going to explode from puss. That was more or less what it meant. She thanks your rider for his well-meaning concern. Ignorant had also appeared in that statement, among other things, but Phremath thought it best to leave it out.
Then, she added, in a rather small voice, KaliMine says she's just fine with K'lir, thank you. And she...well, the rider can...the rider seems okay... That was when Phremath just gave up and repeated Kalierre's words exactly. Aonith's can treat her own shard-blasted self. I'm sorry, Ciceroth; KaliMine does not like how Aonith's treated her mindmate by coming here with Aonith in this state, and she is not in the best of moods. Phremath wasn't paying much attention at all to Calistoth's at this point, with two other presences usurping her attention.
The brownrider, meanwhile, had taken to frowning lightly at Ciceroth, having not expected the bronze to arrive just yet. A slight spike of concern had Z'hin regarding his brown with a raised brow. Apparently Ciceroth's wants to see us. Great. Right now? I believe the words were 'as soon as you're available.' Now, then. He rolled his shoulders wearily. I really would have preferred an hour's sleep before the interrogation started. Okay. I guess there's nothing for it, then. Go ahead and tell him we'll be along...shortly. Jessereth's attention shifted to Ciceroth. We'll be along in a moment. Where...exactly is Yours?
Still in something of a high temper, the dragonhealer glanced down at K'lir's words, immediately softening upon noticing his distress. Although it might have had more to do with the fact that he clearly agreed with her than with the fact that he was upset, Kalierre didn't bother to make that distinction. "As long as the infection doesn't make her sick, yes, she'll heal just fine. Nothing permanently damaging. And I think that if she does get sick it won't be too bad. She's a sturdy creature to have performed so well in this state - despite the fact it never should have been attempted."
At which point any further comment was broken off by Showoff's - display. Kalierre would have found it clearly humorous if she didn't have a job to do and...Ah. Yes. There he went. Lust shot up from between her breasts, his claws scrabbling at her neck and - not to be outdone - he took up a perch on her head. Displaying brilliantly and letting loose with a dangerous-sounding hiss, the bronze was clearly pleased with himself to have chosen the high ground. Lust eat little red 'amberpot. You low! And she wasn't in the mood to put up with him. Thus she just went about her work, Lust having to adjust his position to keep displaying at Showoff.
Z'hin found himself enjoying Kalerary more and more - and Dorava...not so much. Everything was a dramatic statement for her. Speak the truth of her heart? Like it was some profound statement of ultimate truth. The brownrider had little patience for frills and embellishments - although that seemed to be a common trait of most brownriders, didn't it? It would have helped if her explanation made much sense, but it didn't. If things had changed due to Benden's intervention, they would have been very open about it. Benden had no trouble proclaiming victory! Now, it might cover defeats...At any rate, he thought Kalerary covered that angle well enough. No need to add his own little bit of nothing. No, the brownrider merely nodded at her thanks and set about replacing the helmet he'd taken off earlier.
"If you want to come with me to see the Weyrleader and get it over with, you're welcome to," Z'hin intoned, entirely noncommittal, even as he strolled over to the group of people surrounding that wounded green. He blinked, staring hard at K'lir, but he didn't really care to take the time to find out why the bronze 'mandyrs were putting up such a fuss - or why the male greenrider felt the need to whirl around in circles like that. "Kale," he interjected, touching her lightly. "Kale. Jess and I need to see the Weyrleader. We'll be back. Mind Kali." Kalierre met his gaze and nodded slightly, Z'hin offering her a small smile of thanks before turning back to Jessereth.
"Well, are you coming, or not?" he asked Dorava.
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Post by dragon on Aug 26, 2008 15:44:35 GMT -5
"I'll come with you, thanks." Dorava replied, to Z'hin's kind offer. And she left it at that ... it seemed every word out of her mouth was making things worse, so the less said the better. Maybe things wouldn't be so stickly when she spoke to the Weyrleader ... vain hope that that was. She stopped, scooped up her knots, and stuffed them into a pocket without any further ado. She'd get rid of them later ...
Be good, love. I am going to go with Jessereth and his to see the weyrleader. Dorava said to Aonith, who was looking at Ciceroth with a tense wariness that was forcing the puss in her hide to rush out in a hurry, despite how the knife-holes had also shrunk due to the tenseness in her skin.
Alright. Be good, be safe ... come back soon, and in one peice. I don't want to have to go rescue you. Aonith said, her gaze barely flickering in acknowledgement of Dorava's comment. And please don't say anything that can be taken wrong.
Dorava tilted her mouth to one side at that last comment, but neglected to reply. Her own knew her very well. She only hoped that she could pull that request off ... shards, but she so wanted to be able to say the right thing. She turned, and followed Z'hin to Jessereth, preparatory to going to see the Weyrleader.
Trying to relax again, Aonith rested her neck on Phremath's shoulders again, waiting for the healer to finish up. She really didn't feel all that bad ... just some slight pressure under her hide, and even that was already leaving ... but now she was starting to be able to feel those knife pricks... maybe she should have taken a swim in the ocean somewhere along the way, to kill those infections. Saltwater was great for that. But then ... she hadn't known they were there, either. Dorava hadn't mentioned them ... but she also knew hers wasn't a healer, either. Maybe she hadn't known, either? Aonith didn't know, merely keeping a light touch on hers' mind as she took leave to go see the Leader.
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Post by glamourie on Aug 27, 2008 7:16:04 GMT -5
Ciceroth cocked his head to the side, very much imitating the same physical response Ka'rys would have had to Phremath's words. His eyes whirled in confusion, as well as a touch of disapproval; whether it was his or Ka'rys's was unclear. The bronze fluttered his wings as he listened without interrupting, and then crooned to Phremath in what could only be described as a show of gratitude; both for her patience in relaying messages, and for her obviously censoring her rider's response. He was not sure he would have liked trying to reword things for Ka'rys in terms that his rider would listen to without making smart comments on his own. As it was, the response he got when he did explain things was bad enough. He decided to... smudge it a touch, to avoid offending the dragonhealer further. It didn't take a dragon of Ciceroth's intelligence to deduce that Aonith's state was clearly a big part of what had upset the young woman, and perhaps rightly so; he was certain that Ka'rys would be most displeased when he found out the extent of the green's injuries. She would have trouble participating in drills in that state, and... well, most anything else. What had she and her rider been thinking? Silly creature.
Rysmine merely meant that Yours is welcome to do whatever she feels is necessary to treat Aonith and not to worry about propriety, or anything ridiculous as asking; he did not mean to offend her in any way. Worried yellows still traced through Ciceroth's eyes and the bronze turned to look at Aonith before crooning to her. But he still spoke to Phremath, She looks dreadful; she will heal correctly, won't she? As an after thought, he also added, Thank you for relaying the messages, by the way. He didn't know the little green well, but he did appreciate the courtesy, and so did his rider; Ka'rys would not have liked having to come down to deal with what (upon Ciceroth's description of Aonith's injuries) was undeniably a wherryheaded greenpair. He also picked up that Phremath did not appear to be entirely comfortable with him. Unlike Ka'rys, Ciceroth was surprisingly intuitive at times.
Jessereth caught Ciceroth's attention again and the bronze swiveled his head back to look at the brown, the yellow leaving his eyes to be replaced by rapidly swirling contented blues. Rysmine says he will meet with yours outside of the Records Room. Is Aonith's going with, then? Should he bring a healer? Yes, yes, Kalierre had said no healers were necessary for the rider by Phremath's relaying, but Ka'rys did not believe her; she was clearly in foul spirits and he did not think Kalierre would exactly like it if Aonith's rider dropped dead on the spot because of her being mad at her treatment of her dragon. Justified anger or not, the rider did deserve treatment, if she was in need of it - or so Ka'rys's attitude was. Ciceroth watched Jessereth for a moment before speaking to Aonith (without looking at her; the very nature of her injuries looked painful and Ciceroth was in no hurry for a second look), Welcome to Selenitas, Aonith. Phremath's is the most gifted dragonhealer we have here. You are in very good hands with her.
Nodding in agreement, K'lir turned to look at Aonith before smiling reassuringly - while turning around oddly, at least. He surely looked comical, but then, K'lir was used to that by now. "It is impressive you came this far like this," he said softly, not bothering with reproach; he was fairly sure that any that was needed would be given by the healer and rightly so. Who was he to talk? Besides, if he yelled at anyone, it would be the rider. She was the one to be blamed. While a dragon might know their own capabilities better than their rider, it was up to the rider to have proper judgment. If he'd let her, Calistoth would do all sorts of unpleasant things - it was the rider's job to keep them in line, not make foolish mistakes. Not that he knew much about the north where she came from to properly cast stones, but just the sight of Aonith was enough to send him into a quiet frenzy on the inside. He felt angered - enraged even - at the idea of a dragon being so mistreated. How he pampered Calistoth when she'd hatched and had but one small injury (a scar still visible on her flank) -- why wasn't Aonith's rider begging, pleading for forgiveness yet? Something was wrong with her. Something serious.
Unfortunately, while K'lir would have loved to stomp over and give Dorava a piece of his mind to be remembered (his big mouth was fairly easy to recognize), he was most effectively distracted. Kalerary's question went ignored as he spun around, trying to reach Showoff. The salamandyr, too, ignored the little girl, bouncing up and over K'lir's hands to display at Lust the entire time. His movements very much resembled some kind of disturbing dance - jump over this finger, leap over that hand, duck under the other hand and squirm. Dunghead, Showoff announced, having no problem broadcasting that observation to all nearby. You ugly dunghead. Go'way! To emphasize his point, he let out a shrill hiss and then clamped down on K'lir's finger as it passed, earning a startled yelp that Showoff completely ignored. The salamandyr was only really picking a fight with Lust to be the center of attention - he didn't like that the big ugly oozing greenthing was getting more acknowledgment than he was - but he was doing it just the same. Typical Showoff.
"I'm not chasing my tail, I'm trying to catch Showoff -" he exclaimed, earning an amused rumble from Calistoth, who had lost interest in her conversation with Jessereth; he didn't seem eager to continue talking and she had nothing else to say anyway. K'lir glanced over at her and scowled, then visibly jumped upon accidentally spotting Z'hin. The result was comical, him stumbling over, dislodging Showoff who fell from his head in a screeching fury before running over toward Calistoth to sulk; he'd apparently accepted defeat. Squinting, K'lir used the bronze's distraction to kneel, then grab one of the full bowls, replace it with an empty one, and bounce upward. He didn't wait for further instruction, instead scurrying off to do as he'd been told, grateful that Showoff's urge to fight with Lust was gone -- although, it was mostly replaced by injured pride. He'd probably end up spending the evening coaxing the little mandyr away from reflective surfaces. (Doubtlessly, Showoff would be practicing his preening and displaying, so as not to be outdone by Lust again. Never mind that it had been K'lir that mostly outdid him.)
Kalerary blinked at the mention of her name and stared at K'lir as he left before turning to look back up at Z'hin; the touch didn't make her jump, but that was primarily because she was distracted by a greenrider clearly acting as if someone had dropped him on his head at some point. Her eyebrows raised slightly, and she said softly, "He's mean." She didn't add anything else to that, though, nor explain what she meant. Then she turned back to Kalierre and looked up on her head before saying softly, "You've got one of the funny wingless necklace-wearing firelizard things, too..." What had the boy called it? She forgot. Oh well. "He's prettier than the weird reddish-bronze one..." She was a little weary of saying too much; the dragonhealer was clearly busy, but... "Is it okay if I play with Phremath, dragonhealer-greenrider?" She really hoped it would be, if only because she was surprised by a green talking to her - and because Phremath had little wings, like she had little arms. They both had little limbs.
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Post by reqqy on Aug 27, 2008 22:36:50 GMT -5
Responding to the croon with a certain measure of relief, Phremath returned it, though unknown bronzes still made her a smidge nervous in general. Even with some blues, she felt like she was just so far behind the curve that they must think her an idiot. Bronzes, though, were so smart, and she didn't even catch everything that they were saying half the time. It was actually somewhat embarrassing to her. No, Phremath didn't expect to be the smartest, of course, but she didn't like to get lost in words, either. Made her feel small and insignificant.
KaliMine apologizes for overreacting, Phremath returned promptly, then added - which Hers likely wouldn't like, but she didn't know, now did she? I think she feels bad that she didn't even consider asking permission first. Phremath's tone was clearly amused. Mine has a one-track mind when it comes to healing. The small dragon paused to croon again at Aonith, trying to help her feel safe and welcome. It couldn't be fun to be poked and prodded like that! The next pause was a little longer, and her response was slightly worried. Mine says Aonith is really, really lucky. Her wings are in tatters. Faranth only knows why the membranes didn't shred completely with all that flying. They need to be su - sutu - stitched when we move her to the infirmary. And she still may get sick from infection.
A little surprised when he thanked her, Phremath noticeably straightened her spine, though she was careful not to dislodge Aonith. Oh, you're welcome! the green returned brightly. And thank you for not getting upset at Mine! She's not usually this bad...
The dragonhealer watched K'lir and Showoff out of the corner of her eye, finding that her irritation was quickly fading into the background despite herself. It was just hard to stay upset when you were watching a crazy young man spinning around in circles and slapping at his own head. As the great claw scores on Aonith's side began to fully drain out, she went to apply another layer of redwort before slathering numbweed around the incisions and removing the tubing. It was there to reduce the pain, but mostly to keep the hide supple. Small little incisions like that weren't about to truly bother a creature like Aonith. The open air would do it good. "We're going to need to get you quartered," Kalierre commented contemplatively.
Watching the crazy thing gyrating on top of that other human's head, Lust affected an air of utter disdain. Silly thing. He almost felt silly himself, just for challenging something so - obviously unworthy. 'Amberpot go. Jump with winged stupids. Roll in wetdirt. 'Amberpot with stupids b'long. The dragonhealer blinked at K'lir's stumble and Showoff's sudden retreat, even as Lust flared even bigger on her head. Yes. Run. Lust more big. Lust more smarter. Run, 'Amberpot, run. He then promptly dove back between Kalierre's breasts, making the woman jump slightly at the suddenness of it.
Z'hin frowned mildly at Kalerary's comment. He's...mean? But how would she know that? Even knowing what he did about her, it didn't make any sense, unless her mother had said something...Well, the brownrider didn't much care if Ka'rys was mean or not. It didn't make one iota of difference, and clearly Kale was already distracted. He tried hard not to laugh at Kalierre's rather humorously perturbed expression while Lust was trying to find a comfortable position, the woman nodding to the girl. "Of course you may, sweetheart. And he's Lust, a salamandyr," she added helpfully.
The brownrider merely nodded at Dorava's acquiescence, offering to help her up onto Jessereth, who was clearly bigger than what she was used to. Yes. She is coming with us. And it would probably be wise to have a healer on hand, if for no other reason than to be sure. She did have Aonith fly in that state, after all. He prompted Z'hin, who asked the greenrider, "Are you injured in any way?" The man secured the straps quickly, and Jessereth slid into the air surprisingly smoothly, the solid brown making the short trip to the inter-river island that housed the records hall at an almost leisurely pace.
Z'hin took his time about dismounting and offering Dorava a hand down again, not turning his attention to the Weyrleader until after everyone had earth beneath their feet. He saluted the man with brisk efficiency before pulling off the helmet and goggles and tucking them under one arm, allowing Ka'rys to initiate - or Dorava if she felt the inclination. Jessereth showed distinctly less respect by plopping down right there. But then, Jess didn't hold people in high regard, and was almost just as bad with dragons. The brown yawned widely.
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Post by dragon on Aug 27, 2008 22:56:55 GMT -5
Aonith turned her head to look down at Kalierre, tilting her extended wing slightly, inspecting the work done on her sides. It seemed to her to not be much different than it had been, other than the thin lines of ichor running down her sides that were visible. She couldn't feel any of it at all, under all the herbs. But that was okay. Seeming to approve of the work, she turned her head again to look at the healer herself, watching as the salamandyrs did thier gyrating and diving until they were out of view.
Strange, strange little creatures.
Aonith rumbled lightly, lowering her snout in thanks to Kalierre. Thank yours for me and mine, please. She spoke, to Phremath. And my many thanks to you, as well.
~~~
Dorava accepted both the hand up, and the following hand down off Jessereth's broad back. "Thank you." she said, simply. "I am not wounded in any way ... not even any bruises that I am aware of. Thank you."
She turned to face Ka'rys before following suit with a salute of her own. Taking her cue from Z'hin, she held her silence. Protocol was something Dorava didn't want to breach.
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Post by glamourie on Aug 29, 2008 7:33:56 GMT -5
Ciceroth's eyes took on a whirl of blue-green that was, doubtlessly, amused. Over-reacting. He did not relay the apology, since there was no need; His was not displeased with the dragonhealer, and neither was he. Confused, a touch, but only because he was not used to being glared at. Ka'rys would probably have been quite agitated had he been present in person, but he was not, and Ciceroth was considerably more docile than his rider. It took quite an effort to offend him, which was probably a good thing since an offended Ciceroth usually resulted in a close to murderous Ka'rys that required hosing and/or tying down to keep him in check. No, Kalierre hadn't bothered him at all, and Phremath certainly hadn't offended him. Jessereth sparked his curiosity, but aside from that, he felt little -- if one ignored the fact that just looking at Aonith made his wings hurt, and he actually folded them closer to himself, as though to protect them from harm. First lesson of war: Protect one's wings at most any cost. Without wings, dragons couldn't fly, and without flight they were a near stationary target. His eyes whirled faster.
The lack of response to him made the bronze actually throw his head to look at Aonith again. He regretted it; looking at her made him back away. Some part of him was mildly insulted, but an overwhelming lack of surprise kept him from outwardly caring very much. Even though he did not have the intense hatred for Benden that his rider harbored, some of the spill off did seep into Ciceroth from time to time, particularly when something brushed his nerves just right - and Aonith had. Whether intentional or not, completely ignoring him struck a nerve; not hard enough to anger or annoy, though his thoughts were simply that he expected nothing better from a Benden trained green. They didn't seem to respect manners for the most part.. oh well. He didn't care, really; Aonith wasn't of interest to him.
Why would I be upset? he asked of Phremath, turning back to her as his tail curled slightly behind him, then waved absently, as though it had a mind of its own. Yours is doing her job. It is not my job nor the job of mine to interfere. Neither he nor I have any knowledge in healing, nor will we pretend to. Given the state Aonith is in... He trailed off, then spoke only for Phremath to hear, Let me just say that I am glad he is by the Records Room and not here. Patience was not one of Ka'rys's strong points and unlike Ciceroth, he didn't mince words often. Especially not when lives were at stake; people dying over stupidity was one of the things Ka'rys found most offensive. Ironically, so did the bronze... he just let his rider do the dirty work. That way everyone thought he was a big nice bronze without a temper. It wasn't like Ka'rys had a good reputation anyway.
Delivering the message Jessereth offered to His, Ciceroth turned to watch the dragonhealer work, and jerked his head slightly as the salamandyr on her head began.. acting up. Were they normally that way? He was very glad His hadn't impressed one of those. Especially since that one seemed content to hide in what he was sure was inconvenient places. How very odd.
Kalerary squinted as the 'salamandyr' dived down Kalierre's shirt. That didn't look comfortable at all. She squirmed slightly and folded her arms behind her back before glancing toward Phremath. Lust, she called him. What an odd name. Shaking her head, the little girl wandered over to Phremath and looked up at her, then at Aonith, seeing the injured dragon for the first time. The look that went over her face vaguely resembled a slap, and she actually teared up before half-running over to the injured dragon's side, out of the way of Kalierre's working. Her chin jutted up and she frowned, widely, her expression nothing short of heartbroken, as though she'd just seen something absolutely terrible.
"What happened to you?" she asked, and there was no small amount of distress in her voice as she reached one hand up toward the green. It didn't matter that she didn't know the beast, she was hurt, and Kalerary was not a child capable of looking the other way in the face of someone or something's pain. Particularly not that of a dragon that happened to be the same color her mother's dragon had been. "You're hurt - how - how could - " She spun around to look at Kalierre, and the tears actually fell over her cheeks, though she sniffled and did her best to hide it. She'd seen some horrible things but not up close. Not like that. "She'll be okay won't she? She's not going to be hurt? You're a dragonhealer, right, you'll take good care of her?" She turned back to look at Phremath, her eyebrows nearly meeting her hairline. "She'll be okay, right? Her wings look so - so -" Beside herself, Kalerary wrapped her arms around her chest, staring pointedly at them as she tried to imagine the pain the green must have been in. How horrible. What kind of person would allow that to happen to their dragon? Her mother had said her dragon was her best friend - it made no sense.
So distracted was Kalerary that she didn't notice K'lir come up behind her and she jumped as he put one hand on her shoulder before smiling. Her eyes were still filled with tears, and against her better judgment, she turned to wind her arms tightly around the greenrider's legs. K'lir tensed visibly, then wrapped his arms around her shoulders, looking nothing short of awkward, as he added quietly, "She'll be fine. Kali's the best." It wasn't necessarily the truth, but he strongly suspected that was what she needed to hear - and children scared K'lir enough that he did not want to risk her having some kind of fit on him. Besides... he understood her outrage. He was angry, too. "She's lucky, don't worry, eh?" Looking up, K'lir turned back to Kalierre before adding, "Think her rider will learn from this and treat her better?"
Ka'rys was standing outside of the Records Room, waiting, just as he'd promised. As far as appearances went, he was definitely not imposing, especially not when he was standing next to Rawign. Ka'rys was on the shorter side, and built small, slender and trim, and his dark hair was brushed out of his face. His eyes were narrowed as Jessereth landed, not in a glare but the look wasn't exactly friendly. His fingers were laced together behind his back, and he settled for staring as the two landed soundlessly; it seemed as though the greenrider was following Z'hin's example. Not necessarily the best course of action given the fact that he'd met Z'hin before. The brownrider was Selenitas-bred; that made him different. Ka'rys raised his eyebrows slightly. He was not wearing marks, but he would have been recognizable. His face was nearly identical to that of the little girl that Z'hin had brought back from Fort Weyr.
Neither was the Healer at his side. Rawign nearly dwarfed Ka'rys in terms of height, and the scowl on his face was considerably more accusing than Ka'rys's unpleasant look. As soon as the pair landed, he moved forward toward Dorava and launched into a tirade, not giving them a chance to explain; what little explanation he received was enough to enrage him. "What in Faranth's name possesses a fully grown and trained rider to fly her injured dragon on broken and tattered wings? I haven't even seen her - but it doesn't take the brightest glow to know what a mistake that is. And yourself - with injuries you're flying? Injuries!" Selenitas Weyr: Hideaway for all grouchy healers, evidently. The black-haired boy narrowed his eyes and dropped his bag before indicating the woman with one finger. "It'll be easier if you give me a run-down of what you know you're diagnosed with, don't bother to give me stories of how you got them because I honestly don't care, and yes, I'm always this intolerant. The sooner you're treated, the sooner you can go help take care of your dragon and I can't believe --"
"Are you close to done, Rawign? I was hoping to talk to --- Greenrider Dorava, is it? -- and Brownrider Z'hin. I know you can work in silence, I'll thank you for saving your grouchy healer tirade for when I'm through," Ka'rys interrupted, earning a withering look from the considerably younger healer. There was a ten turn gap between them, though Ka'rys looked much younger than his age. There was no denying that he was the far older of the two by the tone of his voice, though. He ignored the nasty look and instead turned back to Jessereth, Z'hin and Dorava. He addressed the greenrider first. "Ciceroth tells me you're Dorava of Aonith from Benden Weyr. Unlike Rawign, I do want to know why you chose to fly here with, from what Ciceroth is describing, potentially devastating wounds to your dragon; I also want to know why you're here in the first place, and you can explain it while Rawign tends to your injuries. Are you harmed, brownrider?"
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Post by reqqy on Aug 31, 2008 20:09:48 GMT -5
Since Ciceroth no longer seemed quite so upset – and he had been upset, clearly – Phremath began to regain a little bit of her easy cheer. Aonith was hurt, yes, but she wasn’t going to be hurt forever. The badness that KaliMine was so mad about hadn’t happened. Right? And Hers was calming as time went on, perhaps because of the younglings, perhaps for other reasons. Phremath affectionately touched the mind of the dragonhealer, who returned the gesture almost – but not quite – subconsciously. It will not be bad, yes? I don’t think so, no. But she won’t be able to fly for awhile while the wings heal properly. Strangely enough, that garnered more of Phremath’s sympathy than anything else. Kalierre offered her green a soft smile. Don’t worry, lovely. It happens. She’ll be up in the air again.
Taking her cue from Ciceroth, the green took extra care to make sure only he would be hearing her words. Phremath cocked her head curiously at the bronze. She’d never quite heard it phrased that way. KaliMine didn’t call this – a job. Jobs were things you didn’t really want to do. It is responsibility, the green replied, pleased with herself to have remembered the word. KaliMine is responsible for healthy dragons, even when the dragons do not always do very smart things. But you lead us, and Yours does, and she does not want it to get in the way and make it harder for her to do what she has to do. So she was upset, and I thought you might be upset that she was upset? I’m glad you’re not, though! A soft croon, before she asked, in a puzzled tone, But why is it good Yours isn’t here? If he was, he could tell them how not to be stupid. Phremath always believed the best of people and dragons. If they’d done something stupid, it must be because they didn’t know. And surely Ciceroth’s would be happy to help them understand!
The dragonhealer surveyed Aonith critically, wanting to be sure she hadn’t missed anything before they moved to the more confined area of the infirmary and things were harder to examine unless you already knew they were there. She glanced up at the injured green’s curious gesture, inclining her own head in return, though her expression held nothing but an intense focus. Mine. Aonith wishes to thank you. She shouldn’t be thanking me just yet; I still have to stitch up those wings. It won’t be painful, but it will be annoying. Direct her toward the infirmary for me? Thank you, love. Phremath eased away from Aonith just a little and nosed her in the direction of the infirmary, which was, fortunately, on the same stretch of land as the main hall, though on ground level. No need for thanks. Mine still has to look at your wings, but she wants to see you in there. I can’t come, but we can still talk if it makes you feel better, Phremath concluded cheerfully.
Distracted by the hatchling Jessereth had brought, Phremath’s eyes shifted toward yellow, distressed at the little one’s distress. If Kalierre hadn’t already been responding to the girl, she would have the instant Phremath took notice. The dragonhealer didn’t tend to broadcast it, but she was truly sensitive to her mindmate’s moods. “She’s going to be just fine, Kalerary. She’s safe with us now. Phremath and I will fix her right back up again, and we won’t let anything bad happen to her. Isn’t that right, Phremath?” The green was staring at the child, her own wings stinging sympathetically. They fluttered a little in her disquiet. It’s okay, little one. Mine is right; we’ll protect her. And KaliMine will make her wings pretty again. She helped me to fly when everyone said I never would. She can do anything.
Kalierre frowned mildly at K’lir’s statement. “Oh, she’d best learn better.” And there was a decided chill to her tone that would make even the most stalwart shiver just that little bit.
The brownrider’s expression never shifted from that nearly neutral expression that just barely skirted the line of arrogant. It truly did look as if he were about to break out into a smirk at any moment, though there was no obvious suggestion of one on his lips. Perhaps it was just the general atmosphere he created. Z’hin definitely seemed to be aware of everything he was doing, and everything around him. He didn’t remember altogether much about Ka’rys, other than the man was a silent and unsettling sort of man. Or, rather, he had been unsettling to a previously Holdless brownweyrling once upon a time. Now he just found the Weyrleader’s demeanor – intriguing. As if Ka’rys were a particularly grotesquely shaped insect that you just couldn’t tear your gaze from.
Z’hin faded back a few paces, anything but chivalrous as he left Dorava to Rawign. Now, the healer was one he’d known fairly well, and it genuinely amused him to find the man-child tongue-lashing the greenrider. He didn’t even bother to hide the laughter creeping into his eyes, though he was too smart to actually voice it. The whole situation really wasn’t very funny. It was just the way Rawign was going about it, coupled with the man’s own memories of the healer, that drew out the amusement. Oh, and there was one other little item of humor in there. Dorava had quite clearly told him that she wasn’t injured. It was bound to get interesting when both Rawign and Ka’rys learned of that.
The man briefly wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to have left Dorava to find her way to Ka’rys herself, but then decided that no, this was well enough; it took the attention off him. Z’hin could definitely live with that. Oh, chilly. Wincing in sympathy for Rawign, he offered the healer a tiny shrug of one shoulder, as if to say, ‘well, he’s the Weyrleader, so what can you do?’ The brownrider was quite nearly caught off-guard when the bronzerider addressed him directly, though it didn’t show on his face. Awfully quick topic change, there. “Not in the least,” he responded honestly, not bothering to embellish as some would. Kalierre definitely wouldn’t have let him out of her sight until she’d treated him if he was hurt in any way.
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Post by dragon on Sept 2, 2008 0:13:52 GMT -5
When Ciceroth threw his head about to look at Aonith again, she noticed and looked back, slightly alarmed. Only then did she remember that he had spoke to her earlier on. There was so much activity about her that it was very easy for the green to lose track of who was who and who was doing what … or saying what. The whole escapade was a little more than stressing, and keeping track was something she was having great difficulty doing. Realizing that irritating a bronze – any bronze – was a bad idea … especially so soon after arriving … she tried to think of what she could do to appease him. For a long moment, her mind whirled empty, and more than a little worried. Hello. she offered, simply. Hers was more than capable of bumbling through things … and she really didn't need Aonith's help in that department.
Aonith was promptly distracted again, as Kalerary ran up to her and started bubbling over in distress. She lowered her head down to where the small girl was, allowing her to touch Aonith's snout. Eyes whirling slowly in peaceful blues and greens, Aonith tried to soothe the young girl. I will be fine in time. she assured her, neglecting to tell her what had happened exactly … Aonith understood that someone as young as Kalerary didn't need to be told about things as distressingly bad as one dragon rending another… which was what had happened to Aonith. Aonith considered herself lucky, actually … the dragon that had attacked her had actually been after Dorava, but a quick roll and then a dash between had saved Dorava from injury and possible death. It is only a simple rip in my wing … even if it doesn't mend properly, I can still fly. Aonith said, downplaying how bad the rip was while trying to smooth over Kalerary's distress.
At Phremath's nudging and words, Aonith looked at the younger green, then over at the infirmary. Glancing at the healer, she pushed up to her feet, folding her wings to her sides once more. Reaching down, she nudged Kalerary once more before walking steadily toward the infirmary. She was careful of where she placed her feet, though, worried that she might inadvertently step on some small creature … the sight of the 'mandyrs was still a curious thing to her, and quite interesting. She didn't want to step on one at all, should one be sitting on the ground between her and her destination.
~~~
Dorava's attention was shifted from Ka'rys to Rawign when the man seemed to practically assault her, yelling at her. She generally tried to be amiable to everyone's moods around her … it was the best way to stay out of trouble. But after the stress of flying so far for the past week and worrying if they would ever find Selenitas, and then finding out what's Aonith's condition really was, and fuming riders all around her, this was just too much to bear. She faced him, shoulders squared with a distinct frown dominating her face. She did not at all appreciate his attitude in approaching her. "I have no injuries to my person at all that I am aware of, and have no conditions other than a distinct allergy to wherry teeth." She ground out stiffly, doing her level best to not whack the man. "If you really feel you must strip search me, then fine. But I would seriously appreciate it if you wait until we are in less company."
Having thus hopefully put the healer off enough to back off somewhat, Dorava shifted her attention back to Ka'rys, and miraculously seemed to shrug off the irritation in seconds. She always carried the greatest respect for healers, but some attitudes just got all over her. Completely composed again, she addressed the Weyrleader as formally as she could manage off-hand. "Weyrleader Ka'rys of Ciceroth, I am indeed Greenrider Dorava of Aonith, formerly of Benden. We were not at all happy with our circumstances in that weyr, and after Aonith sustained rather serious injuries during a battle, we both decided that anywhere would be better than continuing on there. I must inform you in all honesty that I was unaware of the severity of Aonith's continuing condition. When I consulted the healers there about her condition, they informed me that she was fine, and the bulges under the closed wounds were merely developing scar tissue. I am not a healer, and will not profess to be any such thing. When Aonith was once again able to fly with stability, we left. I had done some serious study before we left, originally looking for an abandoned weyr to move to. But there I found references to Selenitas Weyr's location. We decided to try and fly here, instead, as no dragon pair are an island unto themselves. Aonith assured me she could make the trip, and I trusted in her. I remind you here that I had no idea she was infected. I was aware of the rip in her wing, but the healers had tried twice before to stitch it up and both attempts failed. Aonith learned to fly with it like that before we left. We came here looking for a new beginning, a new home. A place worthy of our pledging our lives for it. I come to you hoping to secure a new home for Aonith and I." Dorava said, with sincerity so firm there was no doubting the truth of her words. She seriously was looking for a new home. But she decided to not mention that if they did not want them, she and Aonith would search out one of the aforementioned abandoned weyrs. "In advance, I thank you and your people for seeing to Aonith's wounds with such care and skill." The devastating blow Aonith's loss would have dealt to Dorava went without saying, and her heart was relieved to know that the green was finally getting the care she needed… even if everyone around her thought of her as an idiot. Aonith would live, and that was all that mattered.
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Post by glamourie on Sept 2, 2008 21:41:49 GMT -5
If the greenrider was trying to make him feel guilty - intimidate - or otherwise affect him, she was going about it all wrong. Yes, Rawign was annoyed. He thought he had every right to be. If she was unharmed, he'd been bothered for no reason (Kalierre was a superior healer than him on most fronts anyway), and if she was hurt, it was probably the woman's own fault, for the injuries that he heard described angered him on a very primal level. He couldn't relate, so he was intelligent enough not to complain a lot; he wasn't a dragonrider and could not cast stones for the treatment of a dragon when he himself knew so little. He was angry, yes, but did he truly have a right to be? Not really. Her sarcastic comments also had nearly the opposite effect on the healer, who simply smiled wryly at her; shame she wasn't really his type, or he might have taken her up on that offer solely to be a brat. As it was, he was pretty sure that Ka'rys would have hit him, and smaller though the bronzerider was, he was betting being punched would hurt. Rawign was more a lover-type than fighter type anyway.
His gaze turned back to Z'hin, questioningly, but since he said he was unharmed, he let it go. Rawign's eyes flicked from the brownrider to Jessereth, then back again, asking without words what had happened. Once upon a time, he'd considered Z'hin a friend. He'd been gone so long, though, that Rawign didn't think he had a right to actually call him that. Was he worried? Yes, but it hadn't dominated his thoughts. Maybe that made him a bad friend - he didn't know. Nor did it particularly bother him. He was fairly sure Z'hin hadn't thought about him at all anyway. They weren't that close. He was glad, though, that the brownrider was back, and evidently unharmed. Such miracles rarely happened. If they were alone he would probably have asked after him - asked what had happened, where he was, whether he needed help. The healer in Rawign was considerably worried, for the simple fact that as far as he knew Z'hin hadn't gone face-to-face with the front before... but... it wasn't his place. He wouldn't push. Besides, they had company. Company that appeared to tell long, elaborate stories, too.
Ka'rys was not impressed. Not that it was particularly easy to impress him; Fort born-and-bred, it took a lot to make Ka'rys acknowledge someone as impressive. He was a decent measure of skill in the air, and usually respected people's talents, but impressing him was close to impossible, and the more Dorava spoke, the further she got from managing it. There was a reason most people didn't talk to Ka'rys on a friend-level; he had little tolerance for long, drawn out stories, and part of him longed to snap for her to get to the point. He hadn't asked for her life story. He'd asked why her dragon was hurt, and why she was there, hadn't he? Her feelings on Benden were a matter he could assess on his own. To him it sounded as though she was going on and on and on, and he was tempted to scold her. On one hand, he was slightly alarmed - not frightened so much as made cautious. She seemed to be quite insistent he believe she was not a Benden ally. On another hand, he was disgusted by that very same fact, as she clearly was desperate to prove herself. He couldn't decide how he felt, so he settled for a simple, steady stare.
"Do you like to spin yarns, Dorava of Aonith? Are you a Harper?" There was a slight sarcastic edge to his voice, but he moved on before that side of him could dominate his mind and start a fight. "As fascinating as your story is, you needn't give me such long-winded and elaborate explanations; I can see that my question appears to have had its point missed. Allow me to move more slowly, that you might explain what I'd really prefer to know rather than this extra information which means rather little to me. How was Aonith harmed? At the front, during a fall, was she punished?" There were plenty of options for how a dragon could come to the condition Aonith was in, really, and that fact alone was sad. But why Aonith and Dorava were there was only part of what he wanted to know. People always came to Selenitas to flee the war - but what they were running from varied. He needed to know if Dorava was trying to run from punishment, and whether or not to expect Benden riders showing up to finish the job. Didn't she realize that? Probably not - she didn't seem to pick up on most things. Ka'rys grunted.
A slight nod was cast toward Z'hin and, despite the fact that he was most anxious to talk to him, he focused most of his attention on the greenrider. She seemed the most willing to offer up information. From the lack of explanation, he had a feeling what he wanted to know, he'd have to pry out of the brownrider. Goodie goodie.
Ciceroth flicked his tail slightly as he listened to Phremath, eyes whirling thoughtfully. Responsibility. That was a good word for it too. 'Job' had been used because it was the term Ka'rys used -- although, he was fairly sure that Ka'rys simply thought healers had a bunch of unpleasant responsibilities in general. Considering what an impossible patient his Rysmine was, he didn't necessarily blame him for that opinion. If half the bronzeriders were as bad as Ka'rys was, then the healers had their hands full. He snorted softly, then flicked one wing over his head. Rysmine does not get offended very easily and I am even harder to upset than he is. At least, in normal terms. Confuse, yes, slightly worry, yes, but emotions heavy enough to merit the word 'upset', not often. As for why he didn't want Ka'rys there, Ciceroth squirmed slightly, noticeably embarrassed. You really have not met Rysmine, have you? He would do exactly that - tell them how not to be stupid. And then they would be upset with him and he would make it worse by not caring what they think of him. Rysmine is very bad about that. He actively ducked behind his wing as though it would hide how sheepish he felt. Sometimes he... humans say it is foot-in-mouth syndrome?
The other green spoke to him and startled Ciceroth, causing the bronze to turn to look back at her. It was hard to look at her in the condition she was in, but if Phremath's thought that she would be okay, Ciceroth thought so, too. He had faith in the dragonhealer. He crooned again, meant to reassure her, before adding his attention fell on the little girl at her side. Confusion showed prominently in his eyes, whirling vividly, before being replaced by nothing short of amusement. He recognized Kalerary as looking like his Rysmine, but who she was puzzled him. He decided to wait on asking, though -- surely Jessereth's knew what he was doing, and there was enough on his bonded's mind as it was.
The little girl on the other hand jumped, surprised again at being spoken to by dragons. Were all Selenitas dragons so willing to address those that they did not look to? At Fort it simply didn't happen, but these two greens seemed willing enough. She flushed, turning a pretty shade of red, and clung tighter to K'lir's legs, as though he were a lifeline. Kalierre's words made her nod, mutely, without looking up. She'd be okay, they said, and she hoped they were all right. Dragons hurting upset her a great deal. The little girl was neatly oblivious to the fact that her clinging to K'lir was very obviously making him uncomfortable. It wasn't as though she knew him at all. Her eyes remained downcast as she spoke, muffled by the fact that she was pressing her face into the greenrider's side. "Nobody believed you'd fly?" she asked, sounding disbelieving. "All dragons fly - it's silly that people thought you couldn't. Just because your wings are little doesn't make 'em useless. My arms are little and they're not useless."
K'lir cast a half-glance at Kalierre as she spoke, but decided not to comment on what he was sure was a subtle threat toward Aonith's rider. Not his problem, it wasn't him who had offended Kali. Last time he'd offended her he got sat on. He learned his lesson. His eyes followed Aonith as she nudged Kalerary, making her start, and he glanced down at the little girl as Calistoth growled in protest from her spot. His gaze flicked warningly to the youngest of the three greens, and she threw her head defiantly, as if daring him to challenge her. He didn't. "Phremath, Jessereth and a blue named Adith are from the same clutch," he explained with a light shrug. "If I recall right, Adith is very sensitive to light. And Phremath has little wings. Not sure about Jessereth. A lot of the dragons from that clutch came out ... unique." That was a good word. It wasn't insulting in any way nor implying any level of inferiority; in contrast, K'lir even said it as though he meant it as a compliment. "Some people seem to scorn them for it. Me, I just don't want to make Phremath mad. Last time I did, she sat on me." He glanced over at Kalierre, then down at Kalerary, but he couldn't see her face.
If he could have, he'd have realized she was grinning.
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Post by reqqy on Sept 3, 2008 10:13:56 GMT -5
The brownrider caught Rawign's questioning glance and simply shook his head. Z'hin didn't have a problem with talking to anyone, really. He wasn't exactly the reticent sort. Given the right situation, he could be almost annoyingly talkative, though he preferred to always have a point. The man simply didn't find it appropriate to have a side conversation - particularly about the last eight months, which was sure to be one of the things Rawign would be most interested in - before he'd even been debriefed by the Weyrleader. At least not right in front of Ka'rys's nose. The subject matter was almost certain to be nearly identical. Besides, the ongoing conversation was proving to be rather comical, and he'd rather hear what they were saying.
There it went. Z'hin had to resist the urge to snicker. He'd warned her, hadn't he? Being so dramatic, so high-handed? The woman clearly wasn't a quick learner, or else she had to learn by falling flat on her face. He wasn't quite sure which just yet. How had she managed in the north? As far as he understood - through admittedly a few short months of experience - this sort of behavior generally wasn't well-tolerated, particularly from someone so low on the social rungs. It would be considered wasting the Weyrleader's time with needless details. The brownrider took to studying his nails so as not to be tempted to interrupt with any sarcastic comments.
You couldn't possibly be any more irritating than Aonith's. Ka'rys is already irritated, so I don't think that will matter all that much. And so what if he is? He asked to see the both of you, didn't he? As far as I can see, he's just getting what he asked for. That's about how you perceive all such things, isn't it? You're really something of a grouch, Jess, the brownrider commented affectionately. No, the brown didn't bother being nice. He figured that if you went out of your way to bother him with your presence, you could very well deal with his attitude or leave.
The part that caught Z'hin's attention were the comments about the healers at Benden, the man frowning slightly, though the expression vanished with speed. It was well-known that Kalierre was a dragonhealer Benden-trained. Nor was she - at least as far as recorded data went - the best at Benden, so it seemed highly unlikely that the dragonhealers there would be so incompetent as to not check for something as basic as infection. Jessereth had seen some wounds in battle - though none of them particularly nasty - and that had been one of the first concerns. Then again, Aonith was a green, so they might have considered her expendable and not worth the time for a proper examination.
The brownrider shifted a little, sensing that Dorava probably was not going to improve his inevitable encounter with Ka'rys much. Did she have to be so irritating?
Phremath watched Ciceroth in open curiosity, as he seemed to try to hide behind his wing. She'd quickly gotten over her unease. Not hard, when the bronze was as friendly as he was, even if he did use big words much more than he should. That will make her feel better, Phremath stated amiably. Definitely nice to know Ciceroth wasn't about to throw a fit simply because Hers had gotten a little...difficult for a moment.
I don't see what's so bad about that. I'd like to be told if what I'm doing is stupid, the green commented simply. And KaliMine is always telling me not to worry about what other people or dragons think. A little self-consciously, her wings twitched, the small green drawing herself into a stance that made her look even smaller. Syndrome? Such a large word, that. But she was more distracted by his wing, and quite simply had to attempt his movement herself, but when she went to mimic it...her wing simply wasn't long enough. Phremath noticeably deflated.
Crooning to Kalerary, quite softly, Phremath would have nudged her again if Calistoth's wasn't holding her. My wings are too small to carry me higher without help, the green explained gently, and she didn't mind admitting it. But you're right. They're not useless, and your arms won't always be so small. They'd probably always seem small to Phremath, but she didn't add that. It wasn't really important. Glancing up, she watched Aonith's mincing progress toward the infirmary and visibly relaxed. It wasn't that she was truly bothered by the other green, but she wasn't used to supporting another dragon at all. Phremath really wasn't very big.
I don't sit on people, the green protested plaintively, spoken clearly in a general broadcast so as to include all the riders, and she didn't bother to mask it from Ciceroth or Calistoth either. Kalierre reached up to touch the dragon's side lightly, though she worried her lip just a bit. She was supposed to be watching Kale, but Phremath would much rather stay here, and there wasn't much room for her in the infirmary anyway unless she occupied another of the stalls for dragons, which Kalierre was loathe to do. She seemed fine with K'lir...Well, technically Phremath was a part of her, so she'd still be watching her, right? Right.
"I need to finish with Aonith," the woman stated directly, casting a small smile about the group. "You'll be all right watching Kalerary, K'lir? Phremath will get me if you need me."
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Post by dragon on Sept 3, 2008 16:45:16 GMT -5
Dorava ignored the swipe about Harpering. All she had done, as far as she could tell, was thoroughly answer his question. Apparently his definition of answering a question differed from hers … as did the question that had been asked. She thought about what he asked, for a moment, before attempting yet again to answer the question posed. She needed to make sure of what was being said … Dorava had a sinking feeling that she was still stumbling along down the wrong path to find a new home.
What was a body supposed to do? It seemed that everyone she encountered was a pissed off irritable person that spoke a foreign language. No wonder she was having such issues. Maybe coming here had been a very bad idea, after all. But she hoped that Aonith was getting along better than she was, getting proper care.
"Aonith was injured in battle." Dorava said, simply, not bothering to add anymore. If he wanted to know more, she figured he'd ask for it. Until then, she just waited for whatever was coming.
~~
Aonith made her way into the infirmary, and then looked around a bit, wondering where the healer would like her to situate herself. Not sure of what to do at all, she reached out to hers, and was rather distressed to encounter the problems that Dorava was happening.
Please stay calm, mine. We don't need more trouble that we already have. Aonith said.
I am trying, love. But I seem to be speaking a whole other language than these people.[/b] Dorava replied, thankful for the calming presence of her dragon's mind.
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Post by glamourie on Sept 5, 2008 3:26:11 GMT -5
Dorava had his full attention, for better or for worse. Ka'rys fixed her with a stare as she answered his question and gave a curt nod, grateful that she did not launch into another long-winded tirade. Injured in battle. That meant she was probably not being punished. That eased a touch of his concern, and his dark expression softened slightly. He was still agitated, though it was not visible readily. His eyes flicked over the greenrider, appraisingly, then back to her face. It wasn't personal - he was pretty hard on all northern arrivals, and in his opinion, it was for good reason. They could very well be spies, especially the ones sent by Benden, who had quite a fondness for attacking Selenitas every chance they got. He wasn't going to intentionally let a spy into the Weyr if he could help it, although from the way that Dorava spoke and her inability to answer questions in a concise manner unless it was specifically demanded of her gave him the impression she was probably nothing of the sort. Benden did have some extremely competent riders, after all, much as his inner Fort rider hated to admit it.
"The fact that she is so hurt leads to the logical conclusion that you left Benden without proper permission to transfer. Selenitas is something of a safe-haven for riders fleeing from the north and for that reason I will not turn you away, but I would like to make a few things very clear to you before allowing you to stay here," Ka'rys said softly as he moved to circle around Dorava, slow and steady, eyes never leaving her figure. The movements were decidedly predatory. "First of all - Aonith is grounded as of now. You will not be flying anywhere unless Kalierre of Phremath gives Aonith release orders. I will not stand by and watch any dragon suffer for any reason and I will not force the other riders here to have to witness it either. She will stay on the ground, and if she needs help hunting, she is welcome to ask Ciceroth - she's met him, as is my understanding. Next, you will be helping Kalierre tend to your dragon's injuries as much as she is willing to let you. You have stated you did not realize the extent of her injuries. I believe you, because no rider would intentionally torture their dragon that way, but the end result is the same: her injuries are severe, and the nature and severity of them will take up an abnormal amount of the dragonhealer's time that could be spent with other injured dragons. You will help to minimize her workload with that, as it is your dragon who is injured. Further more, in place of sweeps, which, given Aonith's status as grounded, you will be unable to do, you will instead help the healers --" He motioned at Rawign as he spoke to indicate who he meant. " -- tend to the newly dragonless; the war victims who have been brought here for their own safety and sanity. May that be a lesson to you to pay closer attention to your dragon's injuries. Unintentional or not, you took a considerable risk, and you are very, very lucky that Kalierre knows what she is doing and is experienced in dealing with severe injuries. When Aonith is permitted to fly again, you can come and see me for a Sweeps assignment."
Those orders might have been taken as cruel but Ka'rys didn't care. His attitude was that, while he truly did believe Dorava would never have intentionally caused her dragon such extensive harm, the fact remained that she did, and it was better if she learned quickly what a mistake that could be. He was not about to force everyone at Selenitas to watch a dragon suffer for negligence on the rider's part, accidental or not. The very sight of Aonith had disturbed Ciceroth, and his bronze was not an easy dragon to make uncomfortable. The thought of a dragon being so injured as to worry Ciceroth made Ka'rys uncomfortable and he was tempted to head to the infirmary to offer his own help; he didn't care much about people but seeing dragons suffer unnerved him. He refrained. He had things to do.
He wanted, so badly, to ask Dorava why she chose to flee with an injured dragon -- but it wasn't worth it. The woman did not seem to really understand how appalling her actions were to him, and to others. Ka'rys had seen too many dragons die over ridiculous mistakes like hers, and while he may have been typically nasty, he could not stand to watch it; the thought of dragons suffering for ignorance made him angry. Hence the severity of his punishment. "My questioning is done. Ciceroth tells me Aonith has been moved to the Infirmary. It's that building." Ka'rys lifted one hand and indicated the infirmary with one finger. "Rawign can lead you back; I'm certain he has things to be doing over there anyway. You'll be in the small singles weyrs on the third floor, I'll have Ciceroth give you an exact location, and I'll have you a wing assignment by the end of the day. You'll be expected to attend drills, even though Aonith is grounded; there's no excuse to not know your wingmates and typical flight procedures. If you've no further questions, you're welcome to go and tend to your dragon - but I should warn you most of the healers at Selenitas don't take kindly to injured dragons, regardless of rank. Expect Rawign to be only one of many to lecture you."
Rawign glanced over at Z'hin; he was listening as Ka'rys spoke, but his attention was mostly on the brownrider. Unfortunately, his name was brought into the conversation and he looked up in surprise and then bit the end of his tongue to keep from scowling. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay and talk to Z'hin, but he knew Ka'rys well enough to know that arguing would just get him verbally torn apart and then put on one of the most irritating chore cycles possible. He settled for sighing (over-dramatically, which earned him a scolding look) and then turning to look at Dorava as three colorful blurs appeared around him. One on his right shoulder (his green firelizard, Roxie), one on his left shoulder (his blue, Stumpy) and one on his head (his bronze, Li). All three firelizards chittered musically and sent him a barrage of images that made the healer squirm slightly.
"If you'll follow me," he stated calmly, then spun on his heel to head back toward the infirmary. He did not bother to turn around and see whether or not the greenrider was following. His firelizards were doing that for him, turning about and climbing around on his shirt and in his hair to get a better look at the stranger. Nosy creatures.
Ciceroth crooned over to Phremath as she 'spoke' to him, and stretched his other wing out as far as he could. Given that he was on the large side for a bronze, and had a particularly impressive pair of wings, he very easily managed to cover the green's head in a mock show of the same embarrassed position he was in, and he spoke to her with an almost musical lilt that hinted to his amusement, I think the problem is that Rysmine is not very good at expressing himself, he explained cheerfully enough; he liked his rider exactly as he was, and he was more than used to people misunderstanding what the brunet said. It was like a game with Ciceroth from time to time - to see who would understand and who would take offense. On the subject of offense, he repeated to Phremath what Ka'rys had just told Dorava, his 'voice' a little hesitant, Rysmine asks that Yours be told that Aonith is grounded until the dragonhealer says she is able to fly again, and that Aonith's is expected to help tend to Aonith's injuries as often as Yours will allow. She is also ordered to help the healers with the Lost Ones. Lost Ones was the term Ciceroth used for the Dragonless; he couldn't bring himself to call them by anything but. And syndrome means condition. I meant that he is just very tactless.
Still clinging to K'lir, Kalerary fixed Phremath with an odd look before stepping away. Her arms stretched out to her sides, and she looked from Phremath (or rather, the green's wings) to her own limbs before back again. "I don't think my arms could carry me very high without help either," she said simply, before looking up at Phremath. "So I don't think there's anything wrong with you. 'Sides, you do fly, so they're all wrong anyways. I think you're really pretty." She emphasized this point with an emphatic nod, before turning to look back up at K'lir, just as Kalierre spoke. She answered for the greenrider, just as he opened his mouth to speak, "I'm okay with Phremath. You help Aonith, she needs you more. I can stay here with Phremath until Z'hin comes back." She nodded seriously. It wasn't strange to spend time on her own for Kalerary. She'd wandered Fort all by herself, how bad could Selenitas be?
"What the munchkin said," K'lir replied drolly, glancing down at Kalerary who scrunched up her nose at him. He turned back to Phremath and scoffed. "You did too. You sat on me once, before I Impressed Calistoth. Just because you don't remember doesn't mean it didn't happen. I felt squished." He glanced over at Kalerary and grinned widely. "Don't let her fool you, she was a chubby weyrling."
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Post by reqqy on Sept 5, 2008 21:02:56 GMT -5
Ah, now that was more like the sort of answer Z'hin would have expected. He contemplated the woman for awhile, and there was something of the serious in his gaze. That wasn't a bad reason to leave the north. Not at all. It was the part of the northern weyrs that he liked the least, this sort of blase attitude toward killing and injuring dragons. He had very little against killing where killing was necessary. The brownrider had always been a rational sort. But the needless killing got to him, and more, the desensitization. In the north, when a dragon died, they didn't even keen anymore...and the riders hardly blinked. Z'hin couldn't even imagine what it would be like without Jessereth. That was just - incomprehensible. You'd think that riders would be more shaken to see a dragon die or Between.
You'd think.
Any and all traces of amusement in the brownrider had long since vanished, and yes, he did continue to study the nails on one hand, very much wishing he wasn't here. Z'hin had never been much of one to take pleasure out of watching people get torn into. It just felt awkward, being here as Ka'rys lectured and doled out punishment. That was one thing the man had never approved of - public punishment. He felt that was something best done one-on-one. Not that it truly mattered. The brownrider wasn't a power here, or anything close to it. Jessereth, even with months of experience on the front, was still not so very far out of weyrlinghood. And his rider was just twenty, a young man by any standards. They would likely be seen as untried, or, at the very least, suspicious. Keeping his opinions to himself - though he found the punishment properly fitting, just not the method for delivering it - Z'hin cast a quick glance at Jess, who had apparently decided now was a good time for a nap. Great help he was.
The flicker of a smile passed behind his eyes at Rawign's reluctance - then at the menagerie that took up residence on the healer. Z'hin nodded to the boy who'd stood with him turns ago solemnly. That would mean he'd be alone with Ka'rys soon. Something compelled him to wink at Rawign, as well. He'd find the healer later, after everything got settled. Perversely, the brownrider wondered if Rawign was still torturing himself through Marra. There were few enough people that could truly irritate Z'hin, but she was one of them. He cast a swift glance at Dorava, as well, a slight nod, then stepped forward and let his hand fall back to his side. That's when Jessereth let out a rather loud snore, and the brownrider winced. Nice timing. He rolled his eyes, flashing an apologetic smile at Ka'rys. "Been a long day," the man offered, by way of explanation. That was...an understatement; his left arm and shoulder were putting up a very vocal protest right about now.
"So I suppose you're going to want to know how Jessereth and I managed to come back from the dead, eh?" So much for leaving the dry humor at the landing platform. Oh well. Z'hin couldn't very well change his personality, now could he?
Another dragon might have been jealous and bitter about the bronze who'd just spread his wing - when she herself obviously had nothing to compare with it - over her head, but Phremath was not a dragon who took offense at much. In truth, she was delighted, as she'd always been fascinated with large wings. The green crooned happily to Ciceroth, taking a step closer to him so that he wouldn't have to stretch quite so far. Shifting uneasily, she relayed his message to Hers, receiving only a terse, Understood. Phremath got the distinct impression it had more to do with Aonith's than Ciceroth's, though. Thanks for the warning. She was about to reply to his explanation when she was distracted by other things.
Namely, the small hatchling waving her arms about so strangely. Phremath cocked her head to one side in obvious curiosity. When the girl spoke, though, the green rumbled in amusement, nudging at the little one with a foreleg. And you are quite pretty for a meatbag, she returned brightly, using her name for humans with no intention of insulting anyone. We can fly together when KaliMine has time. Then you won't need to tire your arms.
Kalierre nodded to the assembled dragons and people, before striding for the infirmary herself, rearranging her clothing as she went and smoothing her hair. Wouldn't do to look like she'd just rolled out of bed in the middle of the day, now would it? Not really thrilled about having to see Dorava around here too often - Aonith was more than enough to remind her of her irritation - Kalierre just hoped that the greenrier would prove just a tiny bit useful. She made a mental note to hunt down Ka'rys one of these days and explain to him - quite politely - that having an idiot dragonrider to look after was punishment for the dragonhealer and no one else. She'd be lucky if they weren't fishing Dorava out of a vat of numbweed by the end of the day, the woman too stupid to just walk around the thing.
The blonde woman strode into the room Aonith had chosen for herself, after relaying a few orders to some of the healers who looked like they needed something to do. She pushed back her sleeves and told the green, "Lie down for me, hun, and spread that wing." She indicated the closest wing to her with a dip of her head. Soon she had a small bevy of apprentices and a few journeymen helping her spread numbweed all over the appendage to keep it moist and prevent Aonith from twitching too much from discomfort when Kalierre got started. It wouldn't be painful, really, but yes, the green might be inclined to jerk in weird directions, and the dragonhealer wanted this completed as quickly as possible - before the wings had much more time to heal completely wrong. Too bad she didn't have anyone in the infirmary at the moment who she'd trust to help her stitch; this would likely take candlemarks.
Meanwhile, Phremath's head had jerked up, staring at Calistoth's in open distress. She sat on him? Really? That must be why he was so short compared to other meatbags! Oh, poor thing! Phremath felt terrible, subconsciously moving closer to Ciceroth and crouching lower to the ground in her dejection. I'm so sorry! I don't know why...Please don't be afraid of me. I know it was a misunderstanding or...something.
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Post by dragon on Sept 6, 2008 16:19:28 GMT -5
Dorava stood perfectly still and square as Ka'rys moved around her, forcing her instincts to ignore the predatory tinge his actions had. She had come here – willingly – and subjected herself to this weyr. This was, literally, his territory. Grounded. Check. Understandable, undisputable. Help Kalierre. Check. In fact, nothing would have kept Dorava away from her Aonith. Maybe now she'd get a chance to learn a little something about healing … something she'd always secretly desired but always been denied. Aonith's all around care would be much better if she did get that. This was something she looked forward to, and did not by any means consider a punishment. Even if Kalierre insisted on being irritable the whole time. Help the other healers. Check. Helping the other healers in other ways would also be of great interest … even when it came to the dragonless. In fact, she was quite curious to know what could be done for those souls.
But she was in no way going to let on to the weyrleader that in her eyes, he was giving her everything she's wanted for so many long passes, rather than punishing her. If he thought she needed punishing that was ok by her. But she loved that he was assigning her things that she would not at all mind. This would be fascinating! It was a very good thing that Dorava had a strong stomach and very little bothered her. The only thing she could think of that would bother her would be sticking her hands in fresh vomit. Liable to happen, working with healers. But for the chance to get to work with healers? She'd jump on it!
Dorava watched Ka'rys as he gestured at the infirmary. And then she dared to take a look instead of facing him squarely. Surely he would not have pointed had he not intended for her to look? Noting where the infirmary was, she merely nodded slightly to signify she understood, the whole while keeping a perfectly straight face.
On the inside she was just burstingly happy. She not only had succeeded in gaining a new home, Aonith was getting help, and she was going to get to witness and possibly participate in some healercrafting! Which was awesome.
Rawign. Dorava looked over at the healer. Alright. She could follow him. That was easy enough to do. When he dismissed her, she nodded once more, as formally as she could manage. "Sir." She uttered, crisply, before turning to follow off after Rawign. Noting Z'hin's nod, she returned it in kind. A short glance was cast over at Jessereth when the great dragon snored. Not a word was said. Not one. Only a few strides, and she managed to make her place beside the healer rather than behind him. She held her silence, however, not knowing just how touchy this one was. Everyone seemed to be easily ticked off. Granted, some of that had to be from Aonith's condition, as Ka'rys had said. But surely not all of it?
~~~
When Kalierre walked into the infirmary room, Aonith turned her head to look at her, eyes spinning slowly in calm, peaceful colors. She had been right on the edge of falling asleep. The relief coming from hers heaped on top a body tired from such a long, drawn out flight left her feeling very sleepy. Sitting still felt so good. But now something else was going on … she paid attention to what was going on, as people started moving around her.
Having already been laying down, Aonith straightened how she was resting on the ground, so it was more of a lay-down on the ground rather than a curl up around her recently drained scratches. Placing her feet carefully as she rolled back more or less upright, she dropped and opened the indicated wing, allowing Kalierre to pose it however she wanted. Once finished being positioned and slathered up, Aonith just watched in silence. Twice before healers had tried to stitch that wing, and neither time had it worked. And Aonith was curious to see what Kalierre was going to do different.
After getting word from hers, Aonith was put in a much happier mood. Dorava was going to be allowed to help, this time!
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