... ow. {Marra}

[glamourie]

Once upon a time, dragons were the things of nightmares to Rawign. He'd spent all of his free time trying to avoid them, or anything relating to the winged beasts. Coming to the Weyr was the product of all of those nightmares coming true and he'd nearly fainted when he received the news. For the weeks and then months that followed, adjusting to Weyrlife was a project. A project that, until the previous day, he was fairly sure was a lost cause. Dragons scared him to his core.

Felines had finally outdone them, though. After all, dragons had never thrown him around like a ragdoll, ending up scratching across the top of his chest deep enough to leave gashes that had to be sewn together, as well as similar marks up his side and over his back, nearly meeting his spine. Felines had done that. The dragons that arrived saved them. It was hard for him to think of dragons as monsters when they were the ones who rescued the group from certain demise. True, he was still slightly intimidated, the all-encompassing fear for them was moved over to felines -- except, instead of just solid and pathological fear, he could barely think of those horrible pack-beasts without surges of hatred. It was funny, the effects getting mauled could have on a person. Fear and hatred really did go hand in hand.

The fact that the first night after being mangled had been plagued with nightmares of teeth and claws didn't help anything, either.

Rawign stirred, early in the morning hours, with those thoughts on his mind as his eyes fluttered open. He was surrounded by his fair, with Beggar belly-up on the top of the infirmary cot, snoring away. Roxie was on the table nearby, curled up daintily, the perfect picture of feminine charm. Li hadn't left his spot at the bend of Rawign's neck all night, and he was the only firelizard Rawign suspected to be awake. He didn't sit up, for fear of disturbing the two nearest to him. One hand flicked up to rest the back of his wrist against his forehead as he mentally sought to decipher the time. It had to be early for it was still relatively dark in the infirmary, but just how early he couldn't say. The silence made it clear most people there were likely asleep, although he couldn't see any of the other patients thanks to the veils between each cot. Privacy at its finest. He had no complaints over that, though. People staring at him when he slept was... weird.

From the lack of noise he heard, he was guessing it was before breakfast. Most of the patients were probably dosed into unconsciousness. He likely was, although, it was entirely possible that fear and anxiety had one the trick for him. He couldn't remember, and the infirmary always smelled of herbs and sickness in its own way, so it was hard to judge from that. Clucking his tongue to himself, Rawign turned his hand over and brushed his hair out of his face. The black curls fell backwards and covered the bronze firelizard in a spill of ebony. Li did not appear to notice. So he was asleep.

Unfortunately, with waking up came to knowledge of the pain flaring through his side and back. He was sure he'd rolled over onto the pained side and it really wasn't so bad, when he wasn't trying to move. The problem with back injuries was that every time he moved, he pulled on them. Ow, ow, ow. And he was hungry - how long had he been asleep? It couldn't have been more than a few hours, from the state of the infirmary, but he felt like he hadn't eaten in a sevenday...

[Administrator]

Something was watching him.

Perched innocently behind a good many jars of numbweed, Desdemona lay in watch, watching this sleeping boy. She didn’t know why Hers told her to keep watch. All little Mona knew that her first big girl job was to watch this sleeping boy, not to go near his flitters, and alert Marra the instant he woke up. She didn’t understand why she didn’t do it herself. After the harper had found out about what happened to Rawign, she seemed to get extremely protective, like a queen flitter with her clutch. Then Marra was shooed away as they took care of him, telling her to let him rest. Obviously, this did not satisfy her, so she sent Desdemona off to watch.

The fidgeting of the green flitter was the most obvious sign that she wanted to go back to her bonded. She had never gone this long without being near Marra before, and, quite frankly, she didn’t like it. Needless to say, she was relieved when the boy woke up. Instantly, she winked between, eager to get back to Marra.

Marra had been asleep, of course. Even though she was careful to get sleep now, she still didn’t go to bed till the early hours of the morning. She was strewn across her cot, exhausted, yet peaceful looking. One arm was draped over the edge of the cot, and a tangled curl of hair fell across her face. Desdemona, of course, didn’t think to give her bonded a peaceful wake up call. Screeching in happiness to be with the harper again, she dive-bombed Marra just as the harper jumped up in fright.

“Faranth!” she muttered, attempting to detach the green from her head. However, it was to no avail. Defeatedly, Marra let Desdemona curl up in her tangled brown locks. She sighed, then memory hit her brain as quickly as Desdemona flew into her head. Rawign! “Is he awake?” she demanded of the green. Already having forgotten, the flitter peeped inquiry. Marra sighed, and sent the green a mental image of Rawign, Cooing in affirmation, Marra didn’t even bother to change from her sleeping clothes as she darted out the door into a boat.

It was sunrise. On a normal day, Marra may have just sat and admired the deep golds and reds of the sky above. But now, all she was concerned about was Rawign. The moment she found out what had happened, she panicked, trying to stay with him only to be chased away. Bloody healers.

It must have been in record time that Marra arrived at the infirmary. Despite her bare feet, she must have thundered across the floor to Rawign’s cot. Sitting on the edge, her calloused fingers went straight to Rawign’s face, smoothing his hair back as it came to rest on his cheek, her concerned blue eyes looking down into his as her fingers encouraged the man’s face into her direction. “How are you feeling?” she asked seriously, her eyes scanning his face as her finger absent-mindedly stroked his cheek. She wasn’t even aware she was doing this action; she was still half-asleep, and probably would openly deny her motherly actions toward him when she was more awake. However, just as Rawign had been unable to hide the fact that he cared for her, it was becoming quite clear that those feelings were returned.

[glamourie]

Footsteps; he heard footsteps like the patter of skin on floor, and that thought made Rawign's mind connect better than before. Someone was coming, which meant he needed to either pretend to be asleep or actually move his arm and try to sit up - depending on who it was. Movement hurt, though. That was the problem with the human back. Injuring it made for tons of pain whenever the person in question tried to move in any way. It wasn't as though his wounds were serious. Compared to others, they weren't, but the location meant he would probably keep jarring it for awhile, so it would take longer to heal than most injuries would. At least he knew that, no matter how much it hurt, he would heal. Actually, thinking on it, he didn't really know the extent of the injuries of the others. Hopefully none of them had anything life-threatening, but he couldn't bring himself to ask when he was in so much pain. He didn't want to know. He'd just feel guilty for thinking about his own injuries at all. He couldn't even fully remember how they managed to get away, except that the Weyrleader and a group of dragons arrived. And they were very, very lucky.

The source of the footsteps became obvious soon enough, as Marra came into his sight. Despite the relative darkness, he recognized her well enough. Cue trying to sit up, although the process of doing so would no doubt take him quite a long time. He was actually surprised when she sat on the edge of his cot and brushed his hair from his face, though he managed to keep from showing it ... for the moment. Cringing, Rawign moved his hands to his sides and forced himself to sit up, dislodging Li from his spot. The bronze just crawled across the cot to flop right next to Roxie, half laying on her in his sleepy state. At least he hadn't shrieked, and though it hurt to sit up, Rawign was pleased nonetheless that he could do so. Oh, did he feel sore. Note to self: No playing with felines anymore.

"Hi Marra..."

Rawign brought his left hand to his face and rubbed his eye cautiously, while using his right to keep himself balanced. Falling backwards onto his back would hurt. The movement though told him that he was bandaged around the chest, something he had suspected but not known for sure until he sat up. The bandages pulled tighter around his chest, which meant they were wound extremely well. Who had cared for him? That Halyn girl? Kalierre? The brownrider, I'ir? Whoever it was, he owed them a thank you; they clearly knew what they were doing. He'd find out for sure soon enough, though, once he managed to locate a Healer. Not that he was in any hurry to do that. He could tell on his own that his injuries weren't that bad.

"Honestly? I've felt better." He did not elaborate on the fact that it felt as though someone had shoved a blade down his back and that every movement jarred that wound and made him want to roll over and groan. Nor did he make any effort to hint to that fact. He continued speaking, very quietly. His voice sounded a little hoarse, but better than he thought it would - good, good. That meant he hadn't been out very long at all. "You're up very early... or is it very late? I don't know the time... It feels like it's very early." He hadn't seen Mona, not heard her disappear. She wasn't near enough to his own flitters to have spotted her presence, perhaps thankfully, as he'd have felt awful knowing Marra put her little firelizard up to watching him like that. It was bad enough that his own were surely worried sick.

[Administrator]

Marra drew her hand away as Rawign managed to sit up. She frowned, her maternal feelings shining through. "You're going to hurt yourself," she scolded, crossing her arms sullenly. "What the hell did you do to get involved with felines?!" she finally demanded, unable to contain herself any more. "Do you realize that they can kill you?!" For some reason, this idea upset Marra, who would never openly admit her panic when she heard that Rawign had been attacked by felines. It would probably give this idiot some sort of ego boost, which he did not deserve after getting himself into this position. Desdemona chirped in alarm, slithering down onto the infuriated harper's shoulder to wrap her green tail around Marra's neck. Even when Hers was mad, Mona had trouble with the idea of leaving her even for a moment. Hers probably needed a bit of love... Cooing, she nuzzled Marra, who was still giving Rawign a death glare.

Sighing, Marra ran a hand through her tangled curls. "It's sunrise," she replied curtly, folding her legs over and sitting squarely on the cot beside Rawign's knees. She paused, wracking her brains to figure out what to do with him. "Do you need anything?" she inquired, trying to figure out with her limited knowledge what she should do for someone with feline scratches. "Numbweed? Fellis? A slap in the face?" She raised her eyebrow at the last question, letting him know that she'd be happy to give him that. She paused, looking up at the veil that blocked Rawign's cot from the rest of the room. They were, without a doubt, the only people awake, so she felt this need to do whatever she needed to do quietly.

Feeling like a Crecheworker, she sat up on her knees and ever-so-gently pushed on Rawign's arm to encourage him back down into the furs. "Lay down. I don't want you stretching out your wounds and making them worse," she told him. If it hurt going back down, the idiot could deal. He got himself into this mess, he'd have to suffer the consequences. Sighing, she got up from the cot, resting her hand on Rawign's arm for an extra second. "I'm gonna go get you some water. Your throat sounds dry."

Calmer now, her bare feet were more quiet as she tottered over to the pitcher of water. Finding a glass in a cupboard after some searching, she poured it out. Unfortunately, her balance in the morning was off. Cursing, Marra accidentally swung the pitcher at the glass, knocking it into herself, but catching it with her body while her hands desperately clung to the pitcher. Groaning as the cup of water spilled down her front, Marra set it back up irritably, repouring more water. With any luck, Rawign would be too blinded by pain to notice. If not, she could always put him in pain. Attempting to maintain her pride, she set the pitcher down and came back over to Rawign, ignoring the water that soaked through her thin garment. "Here, take this," she said, thrusting the water to him while attempting to be civil.

[glamourie]

Hurt himself...? A bit late for that. Rawign did not voice that thought, though he did turn to blink at Marra as she launched into a tirade at him. His puzzled expression became an almost sad smile. Weren't their roles reversed? Usually he was the one yelling at her, or at least he was last time. Her question earned a very, very small nod, as if he was afraid of moving too much. Part of him was. "I'm well-aware of what felines are capable of doing, and charging into them was not my idea of a good time, I assure you." He hadn't exactly wanted to go charging into felines. She made it sound like he was trying to play the hero; he wasn't. "The Weyrling Queen and her rider were in trouble -- I went to try and tend to any injuries and Kasraith charged in to try and stop the felines before we could determine how many were there. So I went down with Z'hin and his brown to help. We were ambushed. I don't remember all the full details..."

He really didn't, either. For all his focus and thoughts, Rawign could only vaguely recall parts of what happened. Most of that likely stemmed from how many different medicinal herbs were being used to prevent infection from the deep gashes that lined his torso, though the stress of what happened and how fast everything went bad. He didn't voice his thoughts on the matter or explicit details - namely that Kasraith attacking felines was disastrous, or that Paryal and Aezanth running didn't help matters. He wouldn't tell anyone that he pretty much held the young queenrider and the bronze responsible for their predicament, because it sounded like a transfer of blame. Not to mention that the entire situation was too severe to worry about things like that.

"I do realize they can kill... that's why I was there..." He trailed off, slowly, and then sighed. Sunrise. It was sunrise. Apparently, his internal clock did not care that he was injured, it was determined that he should wake up right then, get ready for his chores and breakfast... that would explain the hunger well enough, though he honestly still could not recall the last time he ate. As for what he wanted, Rawign wasn't sure. He was hungry, but asking Marra to go find him food sounded cruel. Her offer of smacking him made him smile, wider than was probably necessary. Her tone made it clear that the idea of smacking him probably appealed to her. How sweet she could be when she wanted to.

Shaking his head, Rawign slowly laid back into the furs as instructed, cringing slightly at the pulling of the wounds on his back. How healed were they? Probably not very. Ugh. From the smell around him though, he was betting that the healers were focusing more on avoiding infection. Sweat, dust, debris and feline claws were all dangerous for that as well as open-air. With any luck, he wouldn't end up having to drain puss out of them. That would be disgusting, and Rawign could just imagine the smell. Ugh, indeed. Water sounded nice, though. He was thirsty.

Rawign lifted his hand back to his eyes and massaged his eyelids lightly. Movements from over by the pitcher caught his attention and he heard what sounded like something hitting one of the glasses. An eyebrow raised and he started to look up, if only to inquire if Marra was all right, only to see her returning with the front of her shirt wet. Aha.. so that was what happened. He bit the insides of his cheeks to avoid smiling, strongly suspecting that if he laughed, she'd do something rash. He took the offered glass and took a sip from it before holding it carefully with both hands. Wouldn't want to end up like dear Marra, covered in water down his front. Not that he opposed the view at all - er, wait... yes he did because she was a kid!! Wasn't she?

"Out of curiosity, how old are you, Marra?" His voice sounded much better after the water. Good.

[Administrator]

Marra clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Let the queenrider fight for herself. No sense getting you in trouble for her stupidity,” she replied sagely, fanning her wet shirt without really registering how much was being revealed. She didn’t take into consideration that cold water would induce and involuntary reaction from her body and a white shirt could give him a clear view of basically everything she could in her top half. She was probably too unused to these situations to notice it would be more of a problem than just getting a little wet. She sighed. Obliviously, she went on. “I think the job is to heal after people get hurt, not during that time.” She paused. “Need anything else?” she asked, frowning.

Absently, she fluffed up the pillow his head rested on briefly, pondering at these sudden movements that she wasn’t really controlling. Never in her life had she ever cared for anyone, yet these motions were coming to her far too easily for it to be considered normal. Sitting at the edge of the cot, she kept a straight posture. If she were to slump, she would risk succumbing to sleep. The first time she slept on Rawign had been awkward enough, but a second time would be absolutely awful, especially as he was injured.

Watching him drink his water, she raised an eyebrow at his sudden question. How old was she? Did he not know? Rather indignant, she replied, “I’ve got seventeen turns. Why?” She demanded that question suspiciously, folding her arms irritably and unwittingly outlining her still-visible breast area.

Feeling the wet against her arms, she sighed, looking down before turning beet red. “Shard it,” she muttered, raising up her folded arms to cover as much as she could. Shooting Rawign a dirty look for not telling her, she looked around anxiously for a moment. Perhaps an infirmary gown would do… Leaping up, she darted to the drawer beside Rawign’s cot, opening it. Giving a grim smile a satisfaction, she anxiously ambled toward the nearest veil, changing behind it. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed… Pulling the shirt out from under the gown, she sulkily made her way back to the candidate. She looked absolutely ridiculous, her long gown covering her shorts and chest but baring her back, but at least he didn’t have the full-front view the shirt gave her. Besides, she could stand at an angle to make it so he couldn’t see her back. She was extremely self-conscious about such things. Making a mental note to never wear white again, she settled back at his knee, sitting cross-legged.

“So,” she continued as if nothing had happened. “What possessed you to get injured just a few weeks before the Hatching?” Her tone was rather cold, still bitter that Rawign may have just had himself a good few moments of a free show. “Are you just that stupid?” she asked, her tone making it seem as though her question were a reasonable one. Unfortunately, the words didn’t match that tone.

Perhaps this bitter resentment toward Rawign also stemmed from her genuine concern, and the fact that she was worried about him. Care for people this much was rare for Marra, and she hated how Rawign was one of the few people she inwardly deemed suitable to have such treatment from her. Were he any other person, she may have visited once. Yet here she was, at the crack of dawn, keeping him company. There was absolutely no logic in this.

[glamourie]

"You would have me risk a queen, her rider, a bronze, a brown, and his rider, all to save my own skin? Losing just one of them would be tragic enough, especially if I could help in some way," Rawign replied evenly enough. Eyes. On. Face. Must keep eyes on her face. He mentally repeated that thought over and over. Did she not realize that she was pretty much giving him a free show? Not that he had any complaints, mind, but still. Her words, though, puzzled him. His parents were old-fashioned in that they believed all dragonriders deserved a certain modicum of respect (primarily tempered by fear) but they'd practically forced the knowledge that queens were the most important of them all down his throat growing up. Who was he, but a no-name Healer of no special rank, in comparison to a queen and her rider? It didn't matter what the circumstances were, or who was right or wrong: it was the responsibility of everyone who was able to make sure that the queens on Pern were protected, for they continued their species, and the dragons protected Pern from Thread. In the south, they weren't even menaces like in the north. How could she expect him to turn his back on a queenrider in need?

Nevermind that, as a Healer, he wasn't programmed to leave anyone who was in need out to be hurt. Were it a Weyrbrat that was attacked he'd have done the very same thing. All life was precious. Too many lives were lost every day for one to be haplessly endangered over selfishness. Too many. "If I'd waited until after help arrived, there might not have been much left to heal. Even if I couldn't chase the felines off, I could provide another target. There were so many of them - if they'd all focused on one target, someone would have died. I am a Healer. I'm not designed to let someone die if I can help. It doesn't matter how much risk there is to me. I became a Healer to help people. If saving my own skin was my top priority, I would have stayed in Nerat."

His words weren't accusing, nor were they meant to be. He was simply stating fact. Rawign was well-aware that his attitude was probably not the most healthy one, but he was not going to leave someone to die. He just couldn't. He'd rather endure worse injuries than the ones he sustained, if it meant he could prevent someone else's harm. Oh, true, he wouldn't risk himself for just any reason, but if it could save a life, he would. That was the way he functioned and - and Marra was fluffing his pillow which was giving him quite an eyeful. He turned his head away to avoid staring straight at her chest, if only because that would earn him a slap, even if it was her fault for - well, for dumping water down her chest. Rather distracting, actually. He appreciated what he was sure was meant to be considerate actions, though. Even if she was on the verge of driving him insane. Definitely inappropriate thoughts for someone who was sliced up and was privately convinced he knew what a roast felt like as it was being served. Minus the cooked part, anyway.

Wait, what? She was the same age as he was? Raising his eyebrows, Rawign had to bite back the urge to sit back up and gawk at her, though the words successfully kept his eyes right on her face if only from surprise. "Uh - no reason." It was a lie, but he wasn't going to tell her the truth, which was that he'd been convinced she was around Religna's age. It wasn't his fault! She was short, and she looked younger than her age, as though she couldn't possibly be as old as he was! Though, there was nothing young about, um, the rest of her.

About time she noticed, too. Rawign bit his tongue to avoid laughing and once she vanished behind one of the veils, he grinned, unable to help himself. Silent laughter was his only reaction and he formed the audible part into coughing, both hands coming up over his face. Roxie stirred at the sound and gave him a quiet, scolding chirp before curling up again, flopping her body against Li. The bronze was asleep, lying flat on his head. He squeaked occasionally, and it sounded suspiciously like Beggar's snoring. He had the most eccentric firelizards ever. And friends, if Marra's behavior was anything to judge by. At least she'd put something on though, and he could think again. When she returned, though, he did outright laugh, unable to stop himself, and the motion pulled on the cuts on his chest and back. The slight pain was enough to make him stop, though the goofy grin he wore made it clear he thought she looked hysterical.

"You look silly." He didn't explain why; he didn't need to. He wanted, so badly, to add that he'd preferred the shirt, but she might hit him. He didn't want to get slapped. Her question soured his mood slightly, though, if only because he'd completely forgotten. "I didn't think about that... I wasn't ... I didn't think. It doesn't matter. There are plenty of other candidates anyway." And no dragon would want him, besides. "I'm not hurt that badly, anyway. By that time, I'll be healed up, if I don't keep jarring my back." Not completely, but healed enough that he could stand....? Probably. If not, well, then he just wouldn't go. It wouldn't change his life if he missed the Hatching, since he was sure he wasn't going to Impress anything. He had three flitters. He was pretty content with himself. "On the subject of stupid, why aren't you Standing? You can take my place on the Sands."

[Administrator]

“You’re too noble,” Marra muttered, rolling her eyes. “As with all humans, that thought is based on selfishness. You would prefer not to deal with the guilt you’d surely get should they die as you do nothing. But at least you’d be alive. Think, at least, for other people who would be rather unhappy if you were to die.” In an extremely roundabout way, one could manage to interpret this as Marra’s confession that she did care for this candidate. She could never say it outright, though. She was actually in denial of it. She, by saying what she did, was merely suggesting other people would be upset if he were to die… never herself. Oh, never.

Desdemona detached herself from Marra, fluttering down to the cot. Chirping sleepily, she curled up at Rawign’s feet. She was exhausted from her long night of sitting sentry. Marra looked down at the little green for a minute, her blue-gray eyes cloudy, deep in thought. Giving into the urge, Marra lay down just as her flitter did, curled up by Rawign’s knees. Resting her head on her arms, she sighed. “So, no reason why you suddenly wanted to know my age?” she asked drolly. Deciding it was something not worth pursuing, she stretched a little where she lay. There was no point in trying to get information out of Rawign.

His other comment, however, was worth punishing him about. “I am not silly!” she growled. Irritated, she picked up her wet shirt and sent it flying at the candidate’s head. “I’m just not going to let you see any more than you already have, you perverted boy.” Grumbling, she flopped so that she was facing the veil rather than looking at Rawign’s smug face. She shouldn’t have come. He was simply reveling in this. Wishing she had more than her shirt to throw at his head, she grumpily did her best to ignore him. The obvious solution of simply going back to her apartment seemed to evade her, or perhaps she may not have truly wanted to go back. Funny, the way minds work sometimes.

She sighed. “The answer is quite obvious,” she replied, rolling her eyes even though Rawign couldn’t see them. “It’s because I’m a harper. Dragonriding would be nice, but I’d rather not chase a stupid dream when music is my passion. I couldn’t be happier with anything different. If I rode a dragon, I wouldn’t be able to do as much music.” Believing firmly in her answer, she let it just sink in for a moment. This was true- a world without music for Marra was a world without air for her. She paused. “That harp works very well, you know,” she told him after a moment. Not caring to elaborate, she yawned, but stayed determined not to sleep with him again, however platonically. It was just nice to lie down.

[glamourie]

"I never claimed to be noble," Rawign countered softly, "just honest. Selfishness is human nature." He wasn't going to argue with her. Truth was, he didn't see his actions the same way that she did. While it was undeniable that his behavior could be interpreted as purely out of guilt, he didn't really think that way at all. People dying... Rawign took it personally, as though each death was a kind of attack on him. Some day, he would likely grow out of that, but Rawign couldn't bring himself to think of death as natural if he could do something to prevent it. Selfish wasn't what he'd describe that as, but... it was true, to a degree. Selfishness really was inherent to the species. But at least his particular brand of selfishness wasn't to the detriment of others, as some people's was. He could take pride in that, if nothing else.

But how could Marra truly expect him to just... cast aside other people's lives in favor of his own? He couldn't. He just.. couldn't. He was able to recognize the risks he took, to the people who did care about him, but what about the people who cared about the others? There were probably more people who would worry about the likes of Z'hin, Paryal and the bronze...rider..? Was his rider there? Than there were who would worry about him. He was just a nobody. He didn't mind that very much. After all, being a nobody meant he had no expectations put on him. Who would miss him if he'd been killed? Cezine, Marra, his firelizards. That was probably about it. The others had more people who cared, of that he was sure. And their dragons were important. He wouldn't tell Marra that, but the truth was that he honestly thought he had less to lose than any of them. What importance did he hold compared to them?

"If it's any consolation," he said softly as he watched Marra's little green curl up near his feet. His eyebrows raised and he smiled at her, just slightly, before continuing, "I didn't intend to die. I knew it was a very serious risk, but I thought more of us might distract the felines until help arrived. And help did arrive. Besides... I got to smash a jar of numbweed in one's face. If that isn't bragging rights, I don't know what is." He shook his head, grinning lopsidedly. He knew how silly it sounded. What a weapon! Most people would have sought something far more useful but hey, it did get rid of the feline, didn't it? No complaints from him. As for her age, Rawign gave her a look very akin to something extremely innocent, as though he couldn't harm a fly. See how cute he was? Nothing deeper to find in that question, just a simple curiosity. Riiiight. He wasn't asking just to find out if he was checking out a child, nope, nothing of the sort. He'd never do that...

Ack! Shirt! Ducking slightly as the shirt was thrown his way, Rawign allowed a delighted smile to flash over his face, replacing the innocent look. That one expression made it painfully clear he'd noticed. "Such a shame, too. I was enjoying the view," he teased. Well, if he was going to be beaten up for looking, he might as well admit it! "But you still do look ridiculous. You know, it wasn't like I didn't see already, so changing was kind of irrelevant." Shaking his head, Rawign glanced at his own sleeve before gesturing to the shirt he wore; it was one of his own, which he must have changed into after being bandaged, although hazily he could barely recall doing so. "You can have mine, if you want. I never wear those gowns. They kind of remind me of - well, walking around in leaves or something..."

He trailed off, slowly, and regarded Marra with cautious eyes. He didn't contradict her points because they were all good ones. There was a reason he agreed to be a candidate, though, despite his utter terror of dragons, and it fell into the same reason he wanted to be a Healer. More than anything else in the world, Rawign wanted to help people. He wanted to make a difference. Perhaps that was the most underlying difference between the two of them? Hmm. Oh, the harp... "You were supposed to play for me, you know," he said quietly, then smiled. "I'm glad to hear it works well. I haven't the foggiest idea on how to check those things. I thought to ask your precious Metrol, but I decided against it at the last minute. Wouldn't want him to think I was roaming in on you or anything of that nature. What with my stalking you." Was that jealousy in his voice? Never.

[Administrator]

Marra sighed. It was true that selfishness was human nature, and she found it disappointing. Everything, every action, in this world was derived from selfishness. The only two actions she thought were unselfish was Jenicey's genuine care for her-- and now Rawign's. People had come to believe they had cared for her before, yes, but they had other motives. For those two... she couldn't necessarily say that. How irritating Rawign was one of the few people who genuinely cared about her! Of course, she hadn't brought this to his attention yet, so she figured she still had a bit more time before he figured it out on his own. Sighing, she sprawled on her back, her head still at Rawign's side, her feet dangling off of the cot slightly. Her eyes flickered to Desdemona, feeling slightly guilty that she had the green waiting all night for him, but at least flitters weren't any obligation to do much during the day. Mona would be able to get all the sleep she wanted right now.

In reality, if Marra had been in Rawign's position, she would have acted likewise, if out of the selfishness of human nature if not anything else. Yet another thing not to tell him- let him think she would be that selfish of her own skin than selfish of not wanting to suffer through the guilt. Which was worse? Probably the former. Which was exactly the logic Marra found. But still... If Rawign had gotten himself killed... Marra didn't think she'd be happily going about her day-to-day life. Faranth shard her caring for the stupid boy. "Numbweed?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Doesn't exactly sound as heroic as using a dagger or a firestoning dragon, but then again, people generally don't use numbweed with a heroic connotation, but I guess it could stand a chance if you inserted numbweed in the place of daggers and firestone in all the old tales." She shrugged. Babbling at its finest. Then again, it was kind of her job, to analyze these little minute things and say 'Aha! A meaning!' How bizarre for her to do it for numbweed, though. It must be her strange choice of things to analyze that she repelled this many people.

Determinedly not focusing on that, she found she didn't have to try hard. Irritated at Rawign's... boyishness, she brought a slap across his face. It wasn't necessarily painful, but it did get the message across that she was not happy with him. "You shouldn't have been looking, she replied hotly, sitting up. She sighed in exasperation. He was a deadglow. However, she slowly nodded at his offer. A shirt would be much better than this sharding infirmary gown that was apparently no better than leaves. "At least it covers the front," she muttered. "A shirt would be better though," she agreed sullenly.

She smiled, however, at his next statement. "Next time I go to my apartment and return, I'll bring it," she told him, shrugging simply. Nobody needed to ask her twice to play music. She even liked playing for people she didn't like, if only for the pleasure she got in knowing that she was better than them. But with Rawign, it was different. Marra owed him, and this was the easiest way to go about doing so. As she thought this over, the jealousy in his tone caught her ear.

Laughing now, she returned back to lying down on her side, this time eye level with Rawign. Resting her head on her arms, she grinned impishly. "Metrol means nothing to me," she told him truthfully. She carefully didn't add, however, that it was because she wanted to get some sort of reaction out of him. She sighed. "We only kissed. Not to mention he only enjoyed the physical aspect... and definitely longed to go further than I allowed." She rolled her eyes. "Boys only have one thing on the mind, apparently." Giving him a knowing look, she seemed to say, 'You-can't-deny-it-from-the-way-you-were-eyeing-my-breasts.'

"If it makes you feel any better," she added playfully, "I was only teasing. Didn't mean anything by saying you were following me around." She chuckled to herself, her eyes staying on Rawign's with an odd, half-asleep playfulness.

[glamourie]

"It was more the jar," Rawign correctly, still speaking very softly. There was no way they were alone in the infirmary and the idea of waking others was unappealing to him. He could be considerate, sometimes. When he remembered how to be, anyway. "The jar was full, heavy, and it shattered right in the feline's face. The creature was likely stunned. I'd have felt bad but it was the one who did my chest, so I hope I hurt it in retaliation. It made this hideous screech and ran off on its own - so I think I did. I don't recall seeing it again, but there are big gaps in my memory, probably from being half-asleep..." He took another sip of the water, more for his throat than anything else. He couldn't recall the details, but he hoped he'd managed to at least chase off one of the felines. "Again with the heroics.. I wasn't thinking about that. Z'hin and Jessereth were far more heroic. If you're going to write ballads about it, you should make them center on those two. They deserve it more than anyone else." From what he recalled, Z'hin and Jessereth were the ones who did the most work before the riders arrived. He distinctly remembered seeing Salenth. Beyond that... hazy.

Whatever haze he felt was effectively slapped out of him, though he couldn't help but smile. It stung but didn't hurt that bad. He'd been hit a lot worse, and he deserved that one, anyway. "You're right. I shouldn't have." But he was anyway, and he wouldn't apologize for it. She was the one who'd .. emphasized the area. Hmph. He sat up carefully, setting his glass onto the nearest table before removing the loose white shirt with as much caution as he could. His torso was bandaged quite efficiently, hiding the jagged scratchmarks he knew were there. The one he'd worn at the time was rendered to tatters by feline claws and soaked through with rich, deep red blood. Probably darkened to a rustic brown by then, though. He held the shirt out to her, for once not bothered with modesty. It wasn't as though the shirt was helping him any, and besides, he had enough bandages on to ruin even the most imaginative visuals. And he didn't like Marra wearing an infirmary gown. It made him think of injuries and the idea of her being injured bothered him more than he was willing to outright admit to anyone, let alone her.

Rawign laid back on the bed, actually surprised to find that without the shirt, it was easier to avoid jarring the injuries. No bunches to avoid lying on. Convenient. She was planning to come back, then? Hmm. He'd probably be in the Infirmary at least another sevenday, for infection-watch, but no doubt he'd be released after that. He was a Healer himself, he could keep a watch on his own injuries, and he was not too proud to come back and ask for help if things got worse. That was how he was. Her offer made him nod and smile slightly; he really did want to hear her play by herself sometime, instead of with a crowd, and if he got to see her using the harp he'd bought her, that would be even better.

Slowly, Rawign turned onto his side, surprisingly enough lying on the good side to face her. The scratches were on the other one, lining up his back. It hurt less to lay that way, so he decided he was staying in that position, even if she moved. Hmph. "Nothing to you. Is that so?" he asked, sounding amused. "If he means nothing to you, then why kiss him? If he only enjoyed the physical aspect, what was the point? Clearly, you enjoyed it, too, or you wouldn't have done it." Logic at its finest, especially coming from someone who was definitely jealous, even if he'd have denied it up, down, left, right and all around. "You can say that men have only one thing on their minds, but you're the one who was off kissing some boy who meant nothing to you, not me. I may look, but at least I'm not acting on those thoughts." At least with her. Cezine was another story, but that was never getting mentioned. Ever. "And it doesn't make me feel better because then I had to deal with Keliris accusing me of being spurned until I wandered off. Spurned, he called me! Spurned. The deadglow..."

[Administrator]

The harper chuckled. "Sounds like a stereotypical heroic ballad," she informed him with mild sarcasm. "'And then the man heroicly said/'I threw a jar of numbweed at its head!''" Rolling her eyes, she unconsciously pulled the blanket back and climbed under the furs herself, finding the motion as natural as if she had been doing it all her life. Only after a moment did she realize what she did. Though her cheeks turned pink, Marra was determined to not acknowledge this, her legs strewn out along the bed beneath the furs, her cold feet carefully avoiding Rawign. She let out a dramatic sigh. "And just for the record, I don't find any of these antics heroic. I find them stupid. I don't see how any of you got into this position in the first place!" Staring him down haughtily, she added, "And if you think I'm going to waste precious staff paper on human stupidity, you've got this totally wrong."

Rawign's words promptly earned another glare. As she opened her mouth to tell him to apologize, she frowned as he cautiously removed the shirt from his body. Like he had with her, she tried not to stare, but the attempt was fruitless. It wasn't as if there was enough unbandaged to stare at. But yet, she found herself sneaking a look as the shirt was over his head, so he wouldn't see her looking. Oh, shard it, what was she? Just as obsessed as boys were about people not being clothed? Irritated with herself, she wrenched her stormy eyes away just as the shirt was off of his body and handed to her.

"Thanks," she muttered. Undoing the back, she clung to the material against her chest as she pulled the shirt over her head. Pulling the gown off of her, she set it on the ground, practically drowning in the size of his shirt. It was enormous on her, yet was comfortable. Deciding more damage couldn't possibly be done, she flopped down, lying on her side as she faced him with a raised eyebrow.

"I was just fooling around," she told him with a shrug. Of course, she would never explain the real reason. Not to make him jealous, of course, just... to see how he'd react. She sighed. "I just have a limit, is all. I'm not the type to... lie around with someone behind a gather stall. I only sleep with people I really like," she told him, deciding to gloss over the fact that she was a virgin. Well, it was true that she'd only sleep with someone she really liked. It was bad enough that she had only really kissed two people in her lifetime. Let him think she'd done it more times. No- she didn't want to be seen as inexperienced in Rawign's eyes.

His last exclamation made Marra laugh. "Spurned!?" she repeated, unable to stop laughing. He sounded almost jealous! Even if it wasn't Rawign's own words, his being indignant over how this had been described was only proof. But what was he jealous of? That she got more action than he did? She paused, then added, "You sound jealous." A mischievous flicker was in her normally irritated eyes. She'd be curious to see how he'd react to this statement...

[glamourie]

Rawign raised an eyebrow, biting back the urge to laugh at her. She was mocking him, but he couldn't take offense at it; he knew for a fact that the story wasn't exactly reflective of his brilliance. Rawign wasn't a fool, though his actions spoke of foolishness. He just... in the end, he couldn't think of any better way to handle the situation, since Kasraith had barged in so. It was reckless, dangerous, and... and he was fairly sure that, had that not happened, had Paryal not burst into running, the injuries would have been less. He wouldn't say it, though. He'd never pass blame onto the other people involved, it wasn't in his nature to do so. Aloud, anyway. Rawign hated the idea of making someone else look bad or holding them responsible because he knew, in the end, he had a choice. And he'd made it. He did not regret the decision he made and wouldn't have changed it in retrospect.

As Marra climbed beneath the furs, Rawign actually moved back some, so as to give her more room. Roxie and Li were disturbed slightly, and the little green spat once before winging over to sleep next to Beggar, or rather, right on top of him. Li glided over to land right next to Mona and then curled up next to her, apparently content as long as he had some other firelizard to flop on. Beggar never even moved. Apparently, he was a very deep sleeper.

"I don't expect you to waste any of your precious time. But if you want to know, I honestly don't know exactly how it all happened, either... The weyrling queen called out to Phremath, and Kalierre had to go inform the wings. But there was a strong chance of Paryal being injured already and she was. I went out to the river while Kali got help, and when I got there, things were... already bad." That was a slight fluffing of the the truth, but only just slightly. What did she want him to admit, that involving himself hadn't exactly been his prerogative, and while he'd gotten hurt, he'd tried to act reasonably? He was following Z'hin's example. Z'hin was the one who deserved credit for the fact that they hadn't all been killed, in Rawign's opinion. If not for him and Jessereth, they probably would have. He was thoroughly convinced he owed the brownrider and his dragon his life, on top of everything else. He didn't say that.

How he wanted to ask how the others were doing. There was so much damage done to everything. Would Jessereth be able to fly? Had one of the felines gotten to his wings? Would he ever be okay? Was Z'hin okay? Did everyone survive? - His worries went first to the brownrider, for he could not recall the full details of his injuries. He'd been the closest to Rawign and as such, he was his first concern. He remembered trying to get one of the felines off of the brown, he distinctly recalled smacking it in the head with his bag of supplies. His firelizards were brilliant, flying around as distractions, but if any of them had been hurt, he'd have gotten extremely upset. As it was, he was lucky in that his own injuries were primarily superficial. He remembered Paryal falling, had she fainted? So much was blurred in his mind, the only thing vivid being the feeling of claws in his flesh, the screech of felines and then the shadows cast by dragons overhead. Rescue.

He didn't want to talk about how he really felt. He didn't want to tell Marra that he was still a little scared, or that he'd woken up from a nightmare of blood, flesh, teeth, fur and hideous sounds, along with strange green ichor that he didn't really understand. He didn't want to explain it, so he relished the change in topic as she pulled his shirt on. The fact that she looked at him did not escape his notice, but he'd have stared, too, if someone was as bandaged up as he was. Human nature was to stare at injuries. That was how humans as a species functioned.

Right. Metrol. "And yet, after all that, you still felt it prudent to haul him onto the dance floor." His tone was more steady than he felt, and he sniffed at the last of her explanation. "That's very reassuring, coming from someone who was criticizing men for looking. So you only kiss random men, you don't just sleep with them. How nice." Why was he being such a brat? He couldn't - wouldn't - accept the instant reasoning he knew to be truth. He wasn't jealous, he just wasn't. He couldn't be. Marra was obnoxious, mean most of the time, lying in the furs with him - no no no. Right. Lir. "Spurned, yes, that's the phrasing he us-- what?" Hissing, Rawign pointed accusingly at her with one hand, which hurt because the movements pulled his injury on his back, "Jealous? Jealous?! Of what? Of you? Because Metrol got to kiss you? Please. Or because you danced with him? Ilena was a far better dancer, I'm sure. I have absolutely no reason to be jealous. If I wanted to kiss someone behind a gather stall, I'm sure I could find someone willing. I have absolutely no reason to be jealous. You're being ridiculous..."

[Administrator]

Desdemona peeped sleepily, allowing Li to sleep beside her. Normally, she might have flown back to Marra in a panic that a stranger was sleeping beside her (even though he was her clutchbrother), but she was too exhausted to even fully register the fact that he even existed. Marra watched Mona’s movements as Rawign spoke, only now feeling guilty that her little darling had stayed up all night. But what was she supposed to do in the midst of panic (well, not panic, she told herself. More like… concern.) after Rawign was attacked?

She sighed. “Be that as it may, I just… don’t like the idea of what could have gone wrong,” she told him, lips pursed. She wanted him to understand that much, at least. “If a feline had killed you, it wouldn’t have been good,” she told him vaguely. Shells, what an understatement that was! Still unable to confess that she cared about him, she sighed again, sleepily running her fingers through Rawign’s hair. Later, she would probably suppose it probably looked very non-platonic if someone were to be watching them, with a shirt and infirmary gown on the floor, her in the furs with Rawign wearing his shirt, both looking like they had just woken up…

“Glad you’re all right,” she mumbled gruffly, releasing her fingers from his long black hair with something that was looked like reluctance. Snuggling deeper into the furs, she yawned a little. Never would she openly admit that his body warmth was a wonderful contribution to the heat underneath their soft covering.

Surprised—yet amused—at Rawign’s outburst, Marra sat up, clapping a hand over his mouth. For a wild moment, a part of her had been tempted to just kiss him to make him shut up, yet she restrained herself. Oh, miserable was the day when she actually had to restrain herself from kissing Rawign! Yet some bit of her wanted a compromise. Her face leaned in, a mere inches from his own, and she found herself smiling in amusement. “Shut up, will you?” she told him playfully. “I’m surprised you haven’t yet discovered that these constant denials are actually reaffirmations of the truth. So, I take it you are jealous of something. You know what it is, I don’t. I was merely asking what it was.” At last, she removed her hand from his mouth, but her face remained close to his for an extra moment before she pulled that away, as well. She had not a notion as to what brought her face so close to his, but she had felt the heat from his face, and he could probably have felt hers.

Only then did she remember her temptation. Flushing ever-so-slightly, she calmly told herself not to bring it up. Ever. Kissing Rawign would be like… kissing a watch-wher. Disgusting!

Stumbling back to the previous conversation, she felt the need to defend herself. “I do not kiss random men, just for the record!” she snapped, as if her previous words had never happened. “I happen to be friends with Metrol, and it seemed like a fun, relaxing thing, so we went along with it. Certainly not something for you to get worked up about! I’m nowhere near one of those Bitran prostitute- it wasn’t as though I were doing it for a favor. Nor am I a whore! I simply was out of practice, needed someone to practice on…” she trailed off, realizing she was the one babbling now. She had worked herself up, and knew she wouldn’t slow down. Deciding to just screw it, she kept on going. “It wasn’t as if you were lonely, either! You had found yourself a bundle of curves to play with for the evening!” she retorted, meaning Ilena. The venom spilling from her tongue would’ve made her feel ashamed on a normal day, but Rawign had no right to complain, the sharding dimglow! He certainly wasn't deprived!

[glamourie]

Rawign forced himself not to smile as he picked up on the subtle tone in her voice, the implications behind her words, or at least what he thought she was implying. Would she have truly been so upset if he was mangled beyond recognition or killed? He was... flattered that she'd worry for him that way, although he thought her worries to be unfounded. After all, he wasn't killed. He could very easily have been, but he wasn't. He was hurt, true enough, and his chest and back still stung from where the claws ripped through his flesh so easily, but there were worse things that could have happened. He was - and would be - just fine. The fact that he'd obviously worried her wasn't lost on him, but he wasn't sure what to say to reassure her. If he apologized for worrying her she'd just deny it, even though the fact that was was distressed was obvious. Or she'd get mad at him for calling her on it, or both. To him, it was better not to say anything. He didn't even smile, though it was obvious he was pleased. His eyes followed her fingers through his hair, until she pulled away, and then he met her gaze again.

And she sat uuuup! He'd been comfortable. Resisting the urge to complain, Rawign's gaze followed her movements and he sniffed, indignant. He made a face at her when she leaned in close, only to tell him to shut up - typical Marra. He was close to protesting when his mouth was covered by her hand, which made him narrow his eyes in what was intended to be a vehement glare, but was clearly tempered by amusement... although, her words helped lessen that some. Once she pulled her hand away, he turned his head so that his face was smothered in the furs, "I am not jealous." He huffed. "I have no reason to be jealous. None whatsoever. So you can just assume whatever you want, you're going to anyway." Why had he turned away? Because the closeness was... tempting. Because he wanted to kiss her, with her so very close. The idea made his stomach tighten and he was quite determined to resist that temptation. Face in furs. Much better.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of her blushing, and that was all it took. He looked back up and leaned forward enough that the gap between their faces was once again barely large enough to avoid them touching. If she could do it, so could he, thank you very much.

"You happen to be friends with me, too, deny it though we both usually do. And I know for a fact you don't go around kissing your friends randomly." Rawign smiled, lopsided and intentionally playful, more so than he usually was. He was hoping that little phrase would incense her enough to prove herself to him - pride and all that. Ridiculous; he was being ridiculous. He didn't really want to kiss her, did he? Or for her to kiss him? Was that really true - was he truly jealous of Metrol? He couldn't be... could he? Yet if he wasn't, why was he trying to provoke Marra into kissing him? He didn't want to do anything more than kiss her, that much he knew for fact; he was way too shy and ... and... and he liked Marra? It was crazy. Completely insane! Someone had given him way, way too much fellis. That was the only explanation he had for the way he was behaving.

Her little tirade sounded suspiciously jealous, too. Was that what he'd sounded like? No wonder she seemed amused by his behavior; he would have been, too. Although, he was privately convinced he was far more eloquent than she was on his worst days. Yet as she continued on, Rawign leaned forward and did not give her a chance to finish her statement, or to counter his comment; instead, he pressed his lips against hers, gently, but enough that it was clear exactly what he was up to. It was just a light kiss, gentle and playful, lasting only mere seconds before he added, very quietly, a mere echo of her words, "Now who sounds jealous, Marra?"