Paper Kitten Nightmare (open!)

[glamourie]

She stretched, flexing her claws against the hard stone ground. Her ears laid back and she twisted her tail behind her, blue eyes focused dead ahead in determination. The dim glow-light of the hallways caught off each one, highlighting them in silver. The pathway was bright enough for the two-leggeds to walk during the day, but it was morning – early morning, at that – and the glows hadn’t been opened yet. Most of the people walking around were asleep. She wasn’t. She hadn’t slept in over a day, despite trying. The furs were comfortable enough to curl up in, her head resting on the pillow that smelled intoxicatingly like Hers, but… he wasn’t there. And without him there, she didn’t want to go to sleep. She couldn’t without touching him. He needed her. She could sense it, she could. A feline’s instinct was rarely wrong, and after she lounged for awhile, she made her way to the door and when it opened (because of a drudge coming in to collect the soft things that Hers and that brown-humanthing he let live with them constantly left on the floor), she bolted out. She was getting good at sneaking between their ankles. This one hadn’t even spotted her. She had a good idea where Hers was, and the Tall Stupid was not going to prevent her from reaching him. Empress was determined.

Trilling deep in her throat, the feline padded forward through the hallway, her brown ears twitching with every sound. Almost no one spared her a passing glance, and that was good, because she didn’t want them. They weren’t worth paying attention to. She knew where she was going, as she’d made the trip often enough. Hers went there every day, to the place where Monster sometimes slept, and she could have made her way there from their home with her eyes closed. The place with all the sick people was a frequent location of His, and it was the first place that she would look for him. If he wasn’t there, she would have to be more clever, but he was always there this time of day – she remembered. He had to be there. Didn’t he know how much he needed her? Why did he keep locking her up? He was so worried about her, silly HersThing. She didn’t need doors to keep her safe. She could keep herself safe just fine.

It took several moments, but soon enough, Empress reached the door of the infirmary and gave it a slight sniff. The people moving back and forth were ignored; the female slinked soundlessly into the large corridor and looked around, sniffing the air every few seconds. She casually moved around the cabinets, toward the desk, and froze. She couldn’t smell Hers in there. Why not? That was his office. Her ears laid back in agitation and she lashed her tail, bending it down so that the bottom brushed the ground. Her trill transformed into a quiet growl, and she turned. Perhaps she had the wrong door. Sometimes that happened. It wasn’t likely, but possible, she supposed. She stretched her back out and then prowled, door-to-door, sniffing, sniffing… where was he –

There. Her ears perked up, as did her tail, and Empress stood on her hind legs to press her little paws against a solid wood door firmly. She leaned all of her weight (slightly more impressive, considering that she would be having cubs soon) against the wood, in an attempt to get it open, but to little success. Dropping back to her paws, she scratched at the stone ground, stubbornly trying to burrow her way inside, but the hard surface did not give way. The only reward for her trouble was a steady clickity-click of stone against claws. Her tail lashed again, and she flopped onto her side, rolling over to stuff her paws underneath the bottom of the door; maybe she could squeeze in somehow? Maybe? Hers was in there, she just knew it. She had to get inside, but the big wooden thing was in the way…

No luck. Hmph. Empress righted herself and sat on her back legs, one paw lifting in front of her before turning back to the two-leggeds. They obeyed Hers, sometimes, so maybe they would have sense enough to obey her too. One could only hope. Her ears laid back and she sniffed, before finally yowling loud enough that everyone nearby would be able to hear:

“Mrroooow.” Translation: Let me innnn.

[Avu]

“Miaow.”

When in doubt as to how to help, meow back! Monster’s leap from countertop to ground was relatively silent; the feline stayed in the Infirmary and was accustomed to the distance between Point A and Point B. He had been dozing (sprawled in a puddle of sunlight) but he was hardly going to stay that way when Empress was there. No no: Her presence meant he had to be there, too! Not ‘there’ as in ‘in the Infirmary’, but ‘there’ as in right beside her. As soon as he padded to her side, Monster brushed his head against her side affectionately, purring for a moment before he sat down, looking up at the door curiously. Now…um. What was he supposed to do now? Cautiously, he crouched, one paw hooking at the bottom of the door; claws caught the rough wood along the bottom and Monster tugged hopefully before he retracted his paw again. Hum. The male’s whiskers twitched, and a second later, he mrowled, too, just as loudly as Empress had. If he couldn’t get her in like she wanted, then he’d…help someone help her. Yes.

And if it had been possible to ignore one feline’s yowling (doubtful), it was certainly not so to ignore two, especially since Meira recognized both of the felines’ voices, though for a moment she had to pause to place the first. Turning to look in the direction of the yowling, however, provided the answer – and also a few more questions. How Empress had gotten out of R’wign and M’ta’s weyr was the main one, though, seeing as she didn’t expect any answers, Meira made her way to the two felines, setting down a clipboard on one of the countertops along the way before she reached the pair. Her nose crinkled slightly in silent confusion at Empress – while the feline’s attachment to R’wign was no secret, M’ta wouldn’t have let her out to roam around the Weyr, would he? Regardless of how she’d gotten out, though, she was here now and Meira hesitated, one hand touching the knob to the door. She wanted to let Empress in; it might do R’wign some good and it definitely would Empress, but whether or not the other Healers would approve of a feline (possibly two; unlikely that Monster would leave Empress now that she was here) in the room with a patient.

Well, fine; she’d just let Empress and Monster in and make sure they didn’t do anything wrong – Meira didn’t really think it was necessary, given that it seemed most of his firelizards seemed to constantly be in the room and would likely protest anything that could be categorized as ‘wrong’, but still. She let the door swing open slightly, enough for Empress and Monster to enter without having to squeeze in; the male purred pleasantly at his sister, waving his tail around – a clear indication of allowing her to enter first. Chivalrous, Monster? Of course!

Is Checkoth’s awake again? Jingth inquired suddenly. The gold was curled up outside of the Infirmary, her tail flicking agitatedly. She’d wanted Hers to take a temporary break from the Infirmary – call it maternity leave, if she had to. One reason was that she was approaching eight months, but the more prominent one was the sickness. The fluthingwhateveritwas. So many people were getting sick and she didn’t want Hers sick. Some people had already died, too. Linoth’s she remembered because the greenrider was a Healer. Some others, too. It worried her, and actually seeing Checkoth’s come into the Infirmary and pass out only heightened that fretfulness. Hers, however, had refused to, pointing out that since she had to take care of R’wign’s firelizards (a job she’d taken on of her own accord; she’d have taken care of Checkoth too if he hadn’t been so big – awkward, given her pregnancy: She’d left that to M’ta) and she wouldn’t make them leave him. When R’wign had woken up the first time, Jingth had felt considerably better about it…and then he’d fallen into unconsciousness again and the worry was greater than ever.

I don’t know, Meira admitted, opening the door a little farther in order to look into the room (rather awkwardly; she didn’t want to step on either of the felines, and that she had to accommodate for the distension in her stomach made it even more so). What she didn’t mention to Jingth was that even if he was awake, it was a distinct possibility R’wign would be…delusional. Some of the patients had been – one just-graduated bluerider had been babbling about giant blue darters or something. It would…scare the hatchling even more; she was too young to cope with the concept of delusion. Or, rather, Meira didn’t want Jingth to have to deal with the concept of fatal illnesses and delusional patients.

“R’wign…?”

[Requiem]

Isn't it? "Yeah. Beautiful," M'ta responded absently, without even looking at the branch Behruth extended towards him. Whining softly, the brown lowered to his stomach and began nudging at the shiny dismally. Even he couldn't get all too excited about it, so he didn't know why he'd expected His to...but he was hoping it might cheer his lifemate a little. P.M.S. trilled worriedly from Ruth's snout. Sad?

Firmly back in possession of his daggers (even Behruth was willing to admit that there was some merit in being armed when mysterious illnesses were running through the Weyr and the likelihood of an attack was increased) the brownrider deftly stripped the outer stalks from the last of the shoots he'd been sent to gather, before adding it to his small sack. By now, he was mostly recovered from his illness, but worry drew his face thin, and lack of sleep painted dark circles beneath his eyes. He did what grunt work he could for the infirmary; it was better than hovering over an unconscious R'wign constantly. The thought of being far from the other brownrider, however, was highly distasteful - even now he was anxious to return.

As if there was anything he could do should things take an even worse turn; a man couldn't fight an illness with a blade.

What he didn't understand was why R'wign had contracted the disease. Healers were supposed to have killer immune systems, right? Even the hole left deep inside at Jabari's sudden - but not unexpected - absence was hardly noticed in favor of this new crisis. M'ta wouldn't let R'wign go. He couldn't. And Ruth...no matter how often he oiled and bathed the brown, no matter how much he tried to reassure the most beloved of his bonds...the dragon's hide merely grew duller and duller.

R'wign grew sicker and sicker. M'ta wanted to do something, but all he was good for was venturing into the jungles and collecting plants, or changing bedding, or...disposing of bodies. With each new one, his uneasiness grew. As did Behruth's.

The black-clad figure slid from Behruth, who immediately left for the hunting fields to find food and force his clutchbrother to eat, taking only a couple of moments to readjust the belts crossing his chest, filled with throwing knives. If people thought he'd been armed to the teeth before...twenty throwing blades, a machete at his thigh, a straight dirk at his belt, and those were only the visible weapons. Four more he concealed on his person. He shouldered his negligible burden of plantlife and slipped wraith-like through the entrance, only pausing long enough to trail a hand over Jingth in absent-minded acknowledgment of her presence.

His task thus carried out, he left the herbiage with one of the overwrought healers, drawn inexhorably to the door. And Meira, who stood in the doorway. Coming up behind her, he cleared his throat to make her aware of his presence, then reached up to touch her elbow. "What are you doing still here? You should be resting," he murmured quietly, slipping past her and easing the door back. The room was dark, and his eyes hadn't yet adjusted. M'ta glanced at the goldweyrling. "Don't give him something to blame himself for when he awakes. Mm?"

Perhaps a tad hypocritical, given how little rest M'ta was getting, but then, he wasn't pregnant with R'wign's child, either, and the short brownrider was under the impression that if he hadn't taken ill yet, he probably wasn't going to. Probably one of the few good things that came from his origins; he didn't contract illnesses. Ever.

Behruth landed beside Checkoth, the heardbeast he clutched still warm. He nudged it at the dragon he claimed as his weyrmate. Eat.

[glamourie]

Oh. Monster. Empress fixed her brother with a solid, steady stare, her tail swishing back and forth nervously. The other feline’s attention was not nearly as comforting as it was surely meant to be, but it was hard to be cheerful when she knew Hers needed her. She knew it as surely as she knew who she was. Affection wasn’t what she wanted (not from him anyway – Monster was usually ignored by her and for good reason, Empress had a very single-minded sense of devotion to Hers), she wanted to be Hers’s protector. Her little claws raked over the side of the door and she brushed her entire body against it before steadily thrumming a low purr, before another loud yowl escaped her. Maybe if she stayed loud, they’d let her in. She wasn’t averse to meowing endlessly to make her point. Relentless, she was, especially when Hers was in danger. And he was in danger. He always came home to her, always. When he didn’t, she worried, and she knew that something was very, very wrong. Her tail swished, and she bumped the door again when – yes. Yes. One of the servants came over to help – the one who used to live with her. Good servant. Hers had very good taste in slaves; she had to give him that. She sat down, swished her tail, and looked up at Meira expectantly with another loud rreow. Door open, now. No more strange looks. Door.

The servant-girl opened it, and Empress gave another steady, thrumming purr. Ignoring Monster entirely, the feline zipped into the sparingly-lit room and leapt up onto the end of the bed. It was covered in heavy furs, and R’wign lay there, unconscious, his head tilted to the side so that a few long, black curls dangled over his cheeks. Empress ignored her brother to slip up her pet’s chest, her tongue slipping out to brush his chin lovingly. Right next to his face, she curled up, her head resting on his shoulder in an undeniably protective gesture. See, see. He did need her, it was obvious! If she’d been there, with him, why, he surely wouldn’t have gotten sick. He’d get well now, he would, with her there. Empress was sure of it.

But it was unlikely that R’wign would get well immediately. He’d started out okay, for the first sevenday of the outbreak, before his first symptom showed: the sniffles. It rapidly progressed to a severe headache, dizziness, and when the nausea hit him, he knew he’d caught it. R’wign went to the infirmary at the realization and he literally collapsed upon reaching there, muttering something about ‘Giant firelizards’ and people in his head. The next time he woke up, he was in the room – that was a sevenday ago. The symptoms came on within a day, and he was roughly knee-deep in the illness with no sign of getting better. Rarely was R’wign awake for more than ten minutes at a time, usually muttering in delirium, though once or twice he asked after Checkoth, his firelizards, and Meira and M’ta respectively. When he was hallucinating, the first person he always asked about was Marra. Always. The fever was cruel: it robbed him of his knowledge that Marra was gone, forever.

For the moment, R’wign wasn’t awake. Meira’s words drew only the answer of a low, melodious flute from Stumpy, who always greeted her. The firelizards were all cluttered around the room, each one paling in worry. Roxie and Collision were on one of the tables, curled together, the blue for once awake and chirruping in anxiety. Crash was on the footboard of the bed with Hazard, though the brown was more intensely watching his mindmate. Crash was merely fidgeting. Grouch and Accident were on R’wign’s legs, both had to be touching him to feel better… and Ellie was on R’wign’s shoulder opposite Empress, looking extremely sick herself. She never let R’wign out of her eyesight, ever. Stumpy had been at her side, though sight of Meira made him fly up to sit on the headboard and chirp again. It wasn’t as if he’d wake His up. His was sleeping. Was she okay…? Pretty Zesa’s was okay, wasn’t she? His wasn’t, but he liked Zesa’s almost as much…

Outside, Checkoth was on the weyrledge. He didn’t leave the ledge of the infirmary at all. A simple glance at him was enough to spark worry. The normally autumn-hues of his rich brown hide had melted to a very pale, sickly looking shade, and he was obviously not eating enough (despite efforts to the contrary). The worried shades of his eyes were permanent, and he laid staring at the ground always. No amount of consoling had managed to cheer him up. His was ill, he was, and no one was going to make him forget that. The few times R’wign woke up, he was barely His at all. So hazy, he was, and he had to feel R’wign take the realization that Marra was gone like a scoring every single time. It made him very upset. Sometimes he wished His would stay asleep until the bad sickness passed, if only because it made him so worried… worried.

The movement from beside him made Checkoth swivel his head up and he looked at Behruth curiously, before eying the brought-food. It didn’t appeal that much. His head bowed and he nudged it; he was grateful, but… He just wasn’t hungry. It was hard to care much about food with His fading in and out so much.

Thank you, Ruthclutchbrothermine, he said, and he meant it; he nudged the other brown back affectionately before ambling over to flop next to the food and nose at it. I might make a mess here. I should probably move… I don’t want Yours to have to clean up after me. He knew better than to eat near the infirmary. His would have been so unhappy if he did. But he didn’t want to move. What if R’wign woke up? He needed to be there, right there, for him if he did. It was important. It’s nice of you, Yours and MeiraJingth’s to help… the little cousins are grateful too you know… Talking was distracting, and distractions from the shadow that was His were important. Very much so. He didn’t want to think about how far gone R’wign was…

[Avu]

Monster didn’t notice Empress’s lack of interest in him – or at least, if it did, he was not at all put off. The male mrowed, rubbing his body against the doorframe before he looked up at Meira and purred pleasantly at her. That was all he offered, though, before Empress had slid into the room and Monster padded after her, not running like she was, just…ambling in, whiskers twitching at the smell of sickness. Bad smell, it was, even if he couldn’t really place it. The firelizards were more or less ignored; he knew them all and they weren’t as important as Empress was. The male reached the end of the bed and looked up, a low mrrp noise, a mixture of meow and purr, escaping his throat before he leapt onto the bed as well and carefully wound around R’wign as not to step on the brownrider before he settled himself carefully next to the brownrider’s side, where he could see Empress. As long as he could be near her, see her, Monster was happy; he didn’t have to be touching her. The male curled up, fluffy tail flicking over his nose; his eyes half-closed in the intensity of his purr. See? He’d stay with her, he would~

Watching the felines bemusedly – that Empress, if not Monster, understood how sick R’wign was – it was nice. Sometimes pets helped people get better, didn’t they…? A slightly negative voice whispered that it wasn’t true – shouldn’t R’wign’s firelizards have had the desired effect, if it was? Ignoring it, Meira glanced up at Stumpy’s croon and managed a weak smile at the blue. All of them looked as sick as R’wign was; it was to be expected, but it still brought her close to tears. Of all the people she’d never have expected to get sick…her stomach twisted sickeningly, and she exhaled wearily, gaze rising to R’wign’s face where Empress was curled, not sure if she wanted him conscious or not, but he wasn’t, for the moment.

Behruth’s is here, Jingth told her, the gold herself sending a soft croon after the brownrider. She had made no motion to acknowledge the touch otherwise; her head curled to rest upon her haunches, tail brushing her muzzle in a distinctly feline-like posture. No doubt Jingth was miserable; she typically liked nothing more than to sprawl out and sun as much as she could – lately, though her color had not faded noticeably save to a slightly paler shade of gold, the glitter always present, she preferred to curl upon herself. It felt safer…and Hers seemed to agree, seeing as she’d started to sleep next to Jingth again. Not as uncomfortable as might be expected, though definitely not good for someone pregnant. But it made both of them feel immeasurably better, and so it would continue. She wasn’t going to let LoveHers vanish like Corinth’s had, or get sick like Checkoth’s and so many others had. Checkoth’s isn’t awake, is he? she added, her breath leaving in a low sigh.

Her lack of reply was more of an answer than any verbalized response could have been, and Meira didn’t turn to look for M’ta until she felt the touch on her elbow, and even then not immediately. M’ta’s speaking, however, did make her turn her head to look at him, releasing the door to let it open for M’ta to look inside, too. “You should be, too,” she muttered, but there was no protest in her voice. She would have loved to be resting, but it was hard to sleep, even curled up with Jingth and occasionally Monster – she wanted to take him out of the Infirmary. So far, no felines or pets had been reported as infected, but she didn’t want to risk it. Whether or not the feline was allowed in the Weyrling Barracks, she didn’t know, but she had been taking him back at night, but apparently he didn’t like staying cooped up during the day. “Empress needed to be let in,” she added, indicating the feline curled up next to R’wign’s prone form. “Did you let her out…?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she slid into the room, though, running her hand down Stumpy’s back in silent greeting, her other hand touching R’wign’s forehead cautiously.

Fever. Of course. Her head bowed, and she bit her lip again before she glanced around at the assorted firelizards as she lifted her hand to stroke Stumpy again. “Should probably feed you all…” she murmured, before she glanced back at M’ta again, trying to hide the upset. “Do you want to – help me? Feed and oil them…?” The plea went unspoken; Jingth’s presence in her mind was all very well, but the gold couldn’t physically be there and she didn’t want to be alone, because then she’d think far too much, which was primarily the reason she couldn’t sleep of late.

[Requiem]

"Can't sleep," M'ta responded, his voice still low, as if he was afraid of awakening R'wign...which of course was ridiculous. They both wanted R'wign awake, didn't they? Awake and lucid and getting better. He squinted at the cats as he unwittingly admitted to the same problem Meira had, remaining in the doorway while the healer entered. No matter how worried he was for R'wign, M'ta was too much the Bitran to ever venture into a room until the shadows had revealed their secrets to him. He leaned against the doorjam and worried at his lip idly.

At Meira's comment, M'ta frowned. He must really be tired if he hadn't connected the feline's presence to her being let out of their weyr. "No. I haven't been there..." Since he'd gone yesterday to make sure Empress was fed. Behruth never left Checkoth for long, unless it was to help M'ta with whatever he was doing for the infirmary, or to go hunting, or something of that nature. The weyr the brownriders shared was essentially empty but for the feline these days. M'ta, who always slept with Ruth, was relegated to a cot in the infirmary because it was too cold and too dangerous with the dragons sleeping together to do as was habit. But he probably wouldn't have slept much, anyway. R'wign weighed heavy on his mind.

Eat, Behruth repeated, less forcefully. His tail curled over Checkoth's forked one, perhaps hoping that the contact would convince his clutchbrother to obey his wishes. Mine knows and doesn't mind. He says it's something for him to do, so you'd actually be doing us a favor. Checkoth had been there for him throughout ShortyHis's illness, and though he didn't protest returning the favor, he wished he didn't have to. It was silly but, Behruth was convinced that if he could take care of Checkoth and make Checkoth all nice and shiny and healthy again, Checkoth's would just get better. It made sense, right?

(He didn't realize that he wasn't looking altogether healthy himself.)

M'ta slipped into the room now that his eyes had fully adjusted, not asking Meira. He didn't want to know. The sigh and lack of words was enough to tell him that R'wign was no better. Glancing around at R'wign's firelizards, M'ta's jaw twitched slightly. Did he want to? No. Not really. Touching them reminded him that Jabari had apparently decided that life without Zesa wasn't worth living, and touching them reminded him of how bad off R'wign truly was. He didn't want to face that right now. But because they were R'wign's and because Meira asked him, he'd do what he didn't want to do. M'ta nodded in silence.

His mind searched for a safe topic. Something. Anything. But what was there? The plague had overtaken everything at Selenitas. So many were ill that even the wings weren't meeting regularly. Life was consumed with the sick and the dying and the usual small talk wasn't available. "One of the weyrbrats woke up earlier," he mentioned, clinging to that one piece of good news. "Fever completely gone. Her fostermother was weeping all over the healers for joy." There was a trace of hope behind the words. That would happen with R'wign, right?

It would have been nice to have Meira with him more often, if M'ta was honest, if only because then he could be sure she was still all right. But being here amongst the sick...he was glad she didn't spend any more time here than she already did.

[glamourie]

Empress sprawled, flexing her little claws, and she leaned down to lick R’wign’s forehead. Meira’s hand came into view right as she did so and the feline looked up, accusingly, at the gold weyrlingrider. Her tail twitched and she crouched down, kneading her person’s shoulder. His shirt crumpled in the razors of her claws, but she did not hesitate, nor stop in her motions. Her gaze was fixed quite intently on Meira’s face, as if that one look could tear the girl apart… or force her to somehow make Hers better. The idea that Meira couldn’t make R’wign get well never crossed Empress’s mind; indeed, the feline was sure that if she tried, she could fix him. Hers fixed people, so this one who was apparently his replacement in the sick-people-place had to be able to as well. Simple logic, that! Maybe if she meowed, she’d get the message? Empress flicked her tail (entirely ignoring Monster; as long as he didn’t bother her, she was neutral about him) and then yowled again, loud enough to wake the dead. Fix him. Right now.

Is he sure…? Checkoth asked, nudging the carcass with one claw. It didn’t look too appetizing, but he knew he needed to eat. R’wignHis wouldn’t want him to wither away. He didn’t have to be awake to tell him that. The brown fluttered his wings anxiously and leaned down to nudge the beast before actually grabbing it by the neck and hauling it to the far end of the infirmary weyrledge. The movement wasn’t out of a lack of trust for Behruth (far from!) but because it would keep the blood from pooling in the middle of the walkway where the healers would be coming. His was always very insistent about the smelly place being clean, and the least he could do was work toward that. Thank you, clutchbrothermine… and thank ShortyYours. I don’t mean to be so much work for you two, and the little cousins don’t mean to be so much work for MeiraJingth’s…

Anxiously, Checkoth leaned down and bit into the fleshy belly of his meal – spilling blood all over the weyrledge of the infirmary in the process, despite his efforts to be neat. His tails both flicked about anxiously; he didn’t mean to be so messy…

In Meira’s hands, Stumpy squirmed about, obviously appreciating the affection. He fluted up to her lovingly and clung to her, his eyes one solid shade of worry without the continual whirling – or perhaps the shades were so similar and so fast that it was impossible to tell. He butted Meira’s hand lovingly (the blue made no secret of his fondness for the girl) and wrapped his tail around her wrist, trying his best to comfort her. He needed comforting too, but she was Zesa’s, and Zesa wasn’t there to make all the hurt for Meira go away, so he had to, see, see? Stumpy wriggled a little more insistently, peeped as pleasantly as he could muster (but even his ‘voice’ was hoarse, obviously from fussing over his so much) and he tightened his tail. Zesa would want him to make sure that Hers was okay, she would, and he owed it to his protector to do just that. He would!

The proximity of Meira to the bed made Ellie chirp in polite greeting to the other female, before she looked back down at Hers. Then all at once, Ellie uncharacteristically flapped her wings and creeled in distress, loud enough to be heard all through the infirmary. Her upset was quickly joined by all of the other firelizards in rapid succession, each one of them (save Stumpy and Ellie) throwing themselves into the air to fly around in hysteria. Even Empress stood up, obviously alarmed, but the largest show of worry came from the loud shriek from the weyrledge as Checkoth leapt to his feet and flapped his wings repeatedly in terror. The entire reaction took only seconds as Ellie flapped her wings repeatedly, very blatantly panicking, her color paling to almost white.

R’wignmine’s – R’wignmine – Checkoth said to Behruth, flapping his wings in a mimicry of Ellie as his own hide visibly paled further and a loud, ear-splitting keen that left very little to doubt –

R’wign’s breathing (originally quite harsh wheezing) had completely stopped. And so had his heart.

[Avu]

Okay, so someone else had let Empress out? Meira glanced at the feline curiously, but for the moment, she was too tired to think anything of it, or come up with how the feline had gotten out at all. After all, it wasn’t as if Empress was anything short of intelligent; maybe she’d just gotten out by herself…the feline’s meow made her gaze flicker up from R’wign’s face to Empress again. The message was clear; the execution of said message impossible. If there was any specific unfailing cure, they hadn’t found it yet – the best they could do was treat the symptoms and that…just wasn’t enough. Her head bowed, avoiding Empress’s gaze automatically to look back down at R’wign, but her gaze didn’t stay long there, either. The same, the same as all of the other patients who’d caught the sickness; the unhealthy pallor, the heat from the fever. How long had it been…? A little over a sevenday, if she remembered correctly; not long enough to figure out whether or not it would…kill. Some people had lived, gradually becoming sicker, until the second sevenday before they’d just…gone.

She just glanced over in time to catch M’ta’s nod, and Meira half-smiled weakly in gratitude at him; she hadn’t missed Jabari’s disappearance, and…that was partially her fault, wasn’t it, for letting Zesa die…? That old guilt – one that had faded since Jingth – rose again, and Meira looked down at Stumpy, stroking the blue with both hands now, sliding both palms down his sides soothingly. Focus on Stumpy. Much easier than trying to focus on anything else. Deliberately tracing the blue’s spine with the tips of her fingers, murmuring a soft, nonsensical reassurance to the blue, intended to soothe herself as much as the firelizard; M’ta’s comment made her half-turn to look at the brownrider before she nodded, managing a smile for M’ta – a smile that she didn’t really feel. She appreciated the effort, she really did, but Meira honestly felt like she was on the edge of hysteria constantly since the epidemic had done its first round. Weyrling Lessons had become dreaded; while she knew they were necessary, it was so hard to concentrate and though she tried not to let it, her lack of interest affected Jingth, too.

“I – ” Heard about that. The words never came, though, for the next second Ellie’s creel sounded, followed by the sounds of the other firelizards panicking as well – and Checkoth’s shriek from outside cut through what little serenity there was in the Infirmary of late. Meira froze, her hands ceasing to stroke Stumpy; her eyes widened and for a moment, she couldn’t move. Her mouth opened in a soundless cry before she made herself move again. Wasn’t too late. Not yet, not…her forefinger and middle finger sought the pulse at his neck as she bent over him, leaning down to listen. No pulse, and no breath. Her own heart skipped a beat at the realization before she turned to cover his mouth with hers to breathe out, to force him to breathe again, before pressing on R’wign’s chest as firmly as she could while trembling and trying not to cry. CPR: Not something that Healers usually administered to those who were ill with this particular epidemic; it spread so rapidly and if all the Healers were sick, what hope would the Weyr have – ? This…practically guaranteed it, but what choice was there?

What’s happening? MeiraLove! Jingth’s hide paled another shade as the gold flipped herself to her feet, agitation prominent in the flap of her wings and her tail lashing from side to side before she creeled, her body trembling slightly. Intelligent, possessive, vain, Jingth might have been, but she was still just a hatchling – she couldn’t cope. Don’t – don’t… And then, collecting herself, the hatchling keened low in her throat before she padded towards the room, ducking around anyone who was in her way. If they tried to stop her, they were ignored: Jingth wanted Hers, and if Empress could go in, so too could Jingth. The size difference was not registered as the gold pressed herself against the wall outside of the door to make sure other Healers could get in and out, head snaking around the doorframe; she creeled again before addressing the firelizards in the room. Please don’t panic, please don’t. You’re scaring LoveMine and she’s trying to help Yours…

The gold’s question was not answered by her Bonded, though she received a flicker of recognition and a pleading thought as Meira looked up before going back to Operation Rescue Brownrider. Jingth squirmed slightly, her eyes whirling rapidly in shades of vivid orange, interrupted by streaks of gray, as she turned to address M’ta directly: Mine wants you to help push. It’s hard because of her clutch. Please go, Ruth’s, please? You don’t have to do the mouth-thing though because Mine doesn’t want you sick… Which meant Hers might get sick. Jingth keened anxiously again, edging into the room just far enough to nudge M’ta in an effort to push him forward. He had to gooo…

[Requiem]

Blood and guts have never really bothered him, Behruth responded, perhaps just a bit too cheerily. His really didn't mind, as it represented manual labor and at least it would get him out of the stuffy infirmary for awhile - after he helped Meira, of course. The smaller of the two browns remained where he was, watching Checkoth drag the carcass aside and shuddering a little in the chill air. He coiled himself tightly. P.M.S. dropped from Ruth's neckridges to worm beneath the dragon's chin, perhaps to be close, perhaps for warmth. He was uncharacteristically silent. The young brown, though given to fancies and neurotic behavior, was not oblivious. Living people were going into the infirmary, and bodies were coming out. Checkoth's had been inside far too long. He didn't want to say goodbye to Checkoth. Ever. They were supposed to go everywhere together, just as they always had.

Checkoth says 'thank you' ShortyMine. He is eating. Good. That meant R'wign was still doing all right, if Checkoth could be coaxed to eat, right? M'ta turned more toward Meira as she began to speak - and froze. It didn't take him even a full second to realize what had happened. The firelizards made it painfully clear. Behruth's sudden surge of desperate fear as Checkoth's cry shattered the night all around them removed any doubt that might have remained.

M'ta should have acted right then. But to do what? He was no healer, and the dreadful keening of Checkoth - the powerful sorrow racking him from his own lifemate - spoke of a tragedy already happened. Beyond repair. And Behruth was adding a second heartbroken cry that brought tears to his eyes. The man could hardly think straight, dashing at the moisture and turning, turning to get away from it and get to Ruth, whose deep agony was tearing the brownrider to pieces.

Behruth was up and across the platform, ignoring the blood and nastiness that got all over his hide in the process. He pressed up against Checkoth, resisting the urge to cling to him, to keep him from leaving. Some small rational part of Behruth kept him from such selfishness; if Checkoth's was gone, it would be nothing but torture to keep his weyrmate here for any longer. But he couldn't resist pleading with him. Couldn't. Don't...don't leave me yet. Checkbrother, don't. There are many healers. Jingth's is trying. If anyone can, Jingth's can, and we can all play together when he is better again. Just like Mine. You'll see. Please.

Please.

M'ta stumbled backwards at Jingth's nudge, more because he was already off-balance than because she'd been too rough. What? He looked back over his shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of her...what was she doing? R'wign was gone. Couldn't she see that? Was this some demented form of suic- Help her. Checkbrother is still here. If you love me, you won't let him leave without trying. Help her! M'ta cursed. They were going to try to revive a corpse, and Meira was going to contract the illness, and all that would happen was he'd be burying two more...

But still he sprinted across the short distance, ignoring the wild flight of the firelizards. M'ta met Meira's eyes in silence, his own too emotional to be easily read as any one emotion, before planting his palms on R'wign's sternum. Touching the body of a dead friend and hoping that, somehow, that friend would return to him. This was too sharding familiar. He couldn't see past the tears in his eyes, but he worked just the same. There was nothing else that he or anyone could do.

[glamourie]

Around and around the firelizards flew, Roxie’s loud panicking audible through the entire infirmary; no one would be able to mistake her ‘voice’ for anyone else, she was most assuredly distinct. She wasn’t alone, either. Stumpy, from his spot on Meira’s arm, took to keening horribly, though he climbed up onto her back to be as out of the way as he could. Ellie’s creeling lasted only a second before she landed diligently on R’wign’s shoulder, the gold fixing Meira with a pleading whirl of her eyes and perfect silence; evidently the gold understood that the quiet was necessary, that staying calm was important. Or perhaps Jingth’s words had calmed her down. Whatever it was, Ellie relaxed, and her posture made most of the firelizards (except for Roxie) stop flying about and in everyone’s way. They all settled in their places, though many continued with their terrified cries, even Hazard who was usually quiet was upset. The brown flew over to land on Jingth, ruffling his wings anxiously, his gaze remaining snared on Ellie. Ellie butted R’wign’s jaw, looking at him pleadingly; as long as the brown one was there, she would be, too. She trusted him to know when Theirs was gone, if he was really gone, even though she was terrified…

The flutter of wings announced the disappearance of Collision, the blue’s squawking suddenly snuffing out into silence. He was followed by the high-pitched keen of Accident, who normally only sniped minor insults at people, and she too disappeared between. Ellie jumped and took to chattering (quietly) at the other firelizards, her wings spread wide – instructing them, in firelizard, not to go. Not to go. Wait for the big brown. Accident and Collision were wrong. If their dragon was still there, then everything was okay, couldn’t they see that? The bigger Gold’s would save Theirs, she would. Ellie cocked her head and looked at M’ta and Meira in what could only be described as desperation. They had to save Hers. They just had to.

Outside, Checkoth did not move. He didn’t make an effort to throw himself off the weyrledge to jump between, which was probably the best sign there could have been, but he did totally freeze, save for curling around the herdbeast in his grasp, his eyes turning one solid color. Behruth’s words reached him enough that Checkoth leaned over to lay his head on the other brown’s neck, keening quietly, before speaking to Behruth alone, Don’t let him leave me, Behruthmine, don’t let him. It was very soft, as far as ‘words’ went, and reflected his desperation flawlessly. His head bowed, and he clung to the herdbeast in his claws, tearing it apart as if it was the only thing he could do to keep from panicking. I – please, please, I hope – He’d stay, at least until MeiraJingth’s was sure, because if he didn’t then he might abandon His, and he would not do that. But the seconds passing by were both agonizing and terrifying, and he couldn’t keep the sounds from escaping him. R’wignmine, R’wignmine, come back to me. Come back to me.

The constant pleading echoed through R’wign’s mind. Whether it was Checkoth’s words, or M’ta and Meira’s movements was unclear – but something got through to him. When Meira lifted up to check if he was breathing again, R’wign actually choked.

The sound was almost like gagging, lasting only a second before he turned his head, and then his entire body, onto his side. Empress and Ellie were dislodged from place, with the firelizard landing on the headboard with audible chattering. R’wign’s breathing came in harsh wheezes, but the screeching of the firelizards stopped and it was fairly obvious that he was, indeed, alive – and from the movement, most likely awake. But while R’wign was returning to the land of waking, he was the only one:

Collision and Accident were gone for good.

[Avu]

He was helping, he was coming to help; Meira shifted sideways a half-step to give M’ta room. She was grateful, especially considering that he’d looked like he was about to bolt, but she didn’t pause to say anything, because she couldn’t. Her hands were trembling visibly, though shock kept her from actually crying; she couldn’t – couldn’t, or wouldn’t? – accept that R’wign was dead, but it still seemed that the room blurred. Closing her eyes, Meira concentrated on forcing the air in and out of R’wign’s lungs, keeping her hands and body as steady as she could manage; no doubt Stumpy could feel every tremble and she didn’t want to scare him even worse, if that was even possible. In and then out, twice, a pause to check for breath…repeat. How long could she keep this up…? Not long, not when the tears had started to come: Hard to breathe for two people…

Just because her eyes were closed didn’t mean she missed the sudden absence of two firelizards, though. Their voices disappeared and her stomach dropped; if not for Stumpy’s weight on her back, she might have reeled back and given up – because surely the firelizards wouldn’t start going between unless it was far, far too late – but the others hadn’t. They were still there. Two had gone, and she didn’t open her eyes to see which two they were; she didn’t want to know. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale…ignoring the slight dizziness that came with not quite enough oxygen, Meira pulled back, pausing to breathe for herself. A very short pause; that was all she allowed herself, and as she leaned down again, still trying to block out everything except this, especially the thought that she would almost definitely get sick, and the baby; would it hurt the baby…? Don’t let it hurt the baby…

Jingth gave another low keen. The gold hatchling edged further into the room, until her front legs and body were entirely within the room, only her hindquarters and tail protruding. Said tail lashed around in a blatant display of agitation; she didn’t realize she was blocking off everyone else from getting in, since likely the shrieking and keening of firelizards would have attracted quite the attention; nobody even semi-conscious could fail to hear it. Hazard’s landing upon her was vaguely noted as a good thing, but Jingth didn’t focus on it; she wanted to curl up around Hers and stay there, but she couldn’t and that made her very, very unhappy. Her tail gave another violent lash, eyes sinking into a very pale shade of orange alarm, though she knew better to interrupt; wings unfurled and then furled again, nervously, and another soft creel emerged from her throat before she crooned unconvincingly at the firelizards. Must be calm…calm.

The motions had become dead, mechanical, hopeless, when the sound came; she tilted her head automatically to listen for the sounds of breathing, and then – he choked. Something he could not have done while dead. Meira jumped visibly, eyes opening wide before she pulled back, though only slightly, both palms pressing against the edge of the bed before she twisted to look down at Stumpy; her smile was weak, but at least it was present. Immediate danger (though ‘immediate’ in this context wasn’t very long) averted, and she was dizzy with relief; she knelt down, laying her forearms down on the bed’s edge and tucking her chin on top before she closed her eyes again. The sound of R’wign’s breathing was not a pretty one; there was no denying that the rough, wheezing sound was anything but healthy, but at least he was breathing. It was better than –

She froze again, and then her gaze flickered cautiously up towards M’ta, questioning, but Jingth answered the unspoken, dreaded question first, the hatchling sidling entirely into the room and padding to R’wign’s bedside to lick the brownrider’s hand with her tongue, crooning steadily to him – as comfortingly as she could manage. Her tone, however, was nothing short of agitated when she bespoke Hers. MeiraLove…the blue one that is not on your back and the green who likes to snipe at people. Not the loud one, the other one…they did not…I do not think they are returning.

[Requiem]

Mine won't let him. He and Jingth's will save him. Behruth...knew that this could be a lie, but what did it matter, truly? If it was lie, Checkoth was lost to him, lost. And if not? He had to keep him here long enough for Checkoth's to awaken, or Behruth's clutchbrother - the dragon he loved above all others - would be gone and his bonded...broken. More heartbreaking even than losing them both, that. So he told what might be a lie, twining his tail through Checkoth's double tail. Shh. Soon. It had to be soon. Nothing could go without breath for very long. And Checkoth's wasn't responding. Behruth whined anxiously.

Unlike Meira, M'ta was in all too excellent a position to see the two firelizards - Collision and Accident - disappear in despairing creels. He pushed at R'wign mechanically, staring at the point they'd been, his heart in his throat. Ellie was still here. Checkoth. The other firelizards. But for how long? Behruth clung to hope, and Meira continued (probably more because she couldn't let go than any real belief it would do any good) so M'ta, too, didn't let up. His speed decreased, though. How long had R'wign been dead? How much longer was there even a chance of reviving him? How long...before the rest would wink, one-by-one, into the cold of Between, leaving nothing but the Weyrhealer's abandoned body beneath M'ta's hands?

Then R'wign uttered a most grotesque sound, and for one terrible moment M'ta thought that was the end of it - until the wheezing followed. He pulled back, tucking his hands beneath his armpits and staring as the healer - who had been very much dead just a moment ago - turned over. The short brownrider took an awkward step back, noting Meira as she sunk, but not truly marking it. His initial reaction was to disappear until he could get the emotions under control. Shard-blasted brownrider. Why did he have to go and get himself sick?! Ruth was still distraught enough that M'ta's anger was real, even if unfair. And it too fizzled out against a weariness that settled on the teenager's shoulders.

Shard-blasted...

Checkbrother... Behruth crooned, pressing tight against the other brown, ignoring the mess the two were standing in and just relieved. Relieved beyond all measure. You will stay now. Yours should not do that again, Behruth added, vehemently. It wasn't very nice, scaring everyone like that. Not very nice.

M'ta gave way to Jingth. Part of him still desired to flee out to where the dragons were and curl up against Behruth. But, in the end, he settled for mentally clinging to his dragon instead. Two more lost to R'wign...and M'ta finally understood what that meant. It was sad, but at least the healer was...well, not better or okay, but alive. He glanced down at Meira, catching the look behind her eyes, and for a moment felt guilty. Some truly nasty part of his mind - the part that recognized how many who had been with him no longer were - whispered that R'wign would just...leave him...later. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Behruth clung to him in return, trying to reassure him and desperate at the idea. Again, guilt. No, R'wign would be fine, he assured Behruth. Fine. He had to be, right? Yes. Had to.

Sinking to his knees, his arms threaded around Meira's shoulders from behind, and the tears that had been held back came. "You're a bloody, wherry-headed fool," he murmured to her, burying his face against her neck. She wasn't Behruth, but he cared for her nearly as much...it would do for now. "I would've let him go." Harsh truth, that, but then, he was no healer. He certainly couldn't have brought R'wign back if he was alone in here. "Thank you. Shard-blast you." Don't you dare get ill on me too. Turning her into his chest, he ignored the crying and, pressing a kiss to her forehead that could easily be that of a brother, he held her. For her, yes, but as much for him. Damn R'wign.

A small blue mandyr, covered from snout to tailtip in blood and who knew what else, scrambled up from the other side of the cot and plunked down right at the crook of R'wign's neck, crooning anxiously. Excitedly. 'Live. 'Live, he kept repeating, as if it were some sort of mantra. Expressing the joy that neither Behruth nor M'ta were capable of.

[glamourie]

He coughed several times more, taking long, deep breaths in an attempt to stabilize himself. For all appearances, R’wign did not show any hint of the fact that he was conscious; his eyes were still closed and he was laying still, but he was awake. Awake, and distinctly aware of what had just transpired, thanks to the level of panic surging through all of the minds connected to his, which was almost bad enough to spur a full-blown migraine; as it was, he had a definite headache. That headache was made worse by Checkoth realizing that he was awake and therefore capable of answering. As soon as the brown dragon came to the conclusion that R’wign would not wither away into nonexistence by him trying to speak to him, he launched into a full on tirade that had R’wign groaning in discomfort; the only thing that kept him from covering his head with a pillow was that it wouldn’t drown out the surge of sound. Also he’d probably asphyxiate, but that was another story entirely. The different waves of emotion were nauseating and he was glad that he hadn’t eaten anything in several days, or he probably would’ve vomited in response.

You almost left me! You – I’m so mad at you, you came so close to leaving, I thought you were gone, how am I supposed to go on without you? I almost left, because you were gone and I was so worried, and so scared and now I’m so mad that I’m just not going to speak to you anymore! You almost left me! You were gone, I couldn’t feel you, you went black, I was so scared – don’t you know that I love you? I was so scared, I’m never speaking to you again, I can’t believe you did that to me, that’s not something nice to fake. I bet you made MeiraJingth’s and ShortyRuth’s very frightened too, what were you thinking—

It was highly tempting to point out that lecturing him was talking to him. R’wign didn’t. He focused instead on trying to mentally reassure his dragon; seeing Checkoth upset was more alarming to him than the idea that something very bad just happened – though he could deduce what it was based on how his dragon was reacting. His mind brushed that of his firelizards, as Ellie came down to rub her head on his cheek, and his heart sank in a wave of hurt. Collision and Accident... He jolted all at once at the feeling of something warm and wet on his hand, and he flicked open his good eye to stare straight at a gold muzzle. Jingth? Meira – Meira – Meira was there –

“You should have,” he managed to choke out, voice decidedly rough – no doubt because of coughing so much. His hand came up to pluck the salamandyr off his neck as he rolled back over onto his back, and then he gently set P.M.S. back down; he didn’t want to accidentally roll over on top of him. His dark green eye narrowed slightly, though it was more out of frustration than actual anger. “You’re going to get –“ He didn’t manage to finish what he was trying to say, as Checkoth’s anger flared through him; the brown never got angry, but apparently the idea of him being so self-destructive actually upset him. R’wign almost felt guilty, though he finished his words in a slightly less harsh tone. “I don’t want you to get sick.” The unspoken gratitude was there, but… the idea of Meira getting sick was terrifying.

Oh his aching head. Checkoth’s anger was still very obvious to him, and the world was spinning, but – R’wign frowned, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Part of him almost wished he had died; the idea of Meira getting sick was… terrifying. Didn’t she realize how high risk she was…? The level of guilt that hit him was like being beaten by an avalanche. He settled for just frowning at her, obviously more than a little upset; R’wign was decent at hiding feelings, but he was too sick to bother.

I’m yelling at him, Checkoth reassured Behruth, before adding, He wishes he had gone black; he’s scared Jingth’s is going to be sick now and I’m so mad at him I could bite him. I want to bite him. He snuggled closer to his brother and huffed; didn’t His know that such thoughts were scary? Well, no matter, he was there to stay and eventually he’d realize he was being dumb. Eventually.

[Avu]

Meira knew she was still shaking. She had to be; the shock of the event was still written clearly across her face as she stared wide-eyed at R’wign. Even though it was obvious he was alive, she wanted to…make sure. As if watching him move, hearing his breathing, wasn’t enough – and, for better or for worse, she was decidedly paranoid now; the brownrider wasn’t allowed to die, and likely she’d be hovering. While doing whatever work was needed, of course, but hovering nonetheless. The firelizards and Checkoth had made quite the racket, so the entire Infirmary had probably known, but they hadn’t come, had they? Not a good thing; she knew they were busy, but…too busy for this? Well, honestly, probably so; firelizards and dragons didn’t make that much noise unless Theirs died, for the most part, and then…it was usually too late. They didn’t get CPR; too risky for the Healers. Hovering? Completely justified, surely. Shorter distance to run/waddle if something happened again.

M’ta’s arms winding around her shoulders helped still the trembling some, though the weyrlingrider didn’t look away from R’wign until M’ta actually spoke; her eyes flickered backwards towards the brownrider, though she couldn’t actually see him from where she was kneeling and where he was. She still wasn’t thinking straight, Meira knew; she was relying heavily on Jingth in order to make her thoughts vaguely coherent even to herself. The thoughts skittering across her mind were not entirely focused, some of them not even linked to R’wign, before two thoughts arranged themselves in the front of her mind just as M’ta spoke again: Jingth shouldn’t have to deal with this emotionally, she’s too young and But I’d do it again if I had to… M’ta’s words made her wince, though there was no resistance to being turned away from R’wign; Jingth was watching the other brownrider and the gold would let her know if anything – something – happened. Her eyes closed wearily at the kiss to her forehead, and then Meira dropped her head against M’ta’s shoulder, both arms winding around her distended abdomen. Baby. Keep baby safe. Was that even possible anymore…?

Her eyes stayed closed – but only for a moment; her entire body stiffened visibly when R’wign spoke and she twisted around to look at him, blinking at him in confusion. He was – he wasn’t supposed to be sitting up; he had to lie down – his words made her eyes widen in surprise, indignation flaring. Admittedly she hadn’t been thinking straight, but that didn’t mean she’d take it back and let him die; bad idea. Nooo. R’wign wasn’t allowed to die. Checkoth and Stumpy were not allowed to die, either. She twisted, still half-leaning against M’ta for support (she’d have gotten up but she didn’t think she’d be able to stand without support; awkward) so that she could see R’wign better, and then crinkled her nose defiantly. “I don’t – you shouldn’t – you shouldn’t be worrying about me,” she replied, her voice low in an attempt to hide the agitation at the idea of letting the brownrider just die that was still audible in her tones; “I wasn’t – I mean, I wasn’t about to let you…die.” The logic was probably very flawed, and not at all helped by the crack in her voice, but she ignored it, exhaling before she closed her eyes again.

“Can’t you – can’t you at least wait for me to actually – get sick before – before you start to worry…?” She didn’t necessarily have to get sick. Admittedly, the chances were badly turned against her, but she hadn’t gotten sick yet and…and she’d never gotten so close, but she had had contact with them. It might not be so bad…but then again – almost nobody was that lucky.

Jingth’s upset at her thoughts washed over her, and Meira’s eyes opened to flicker towards the hatchling, who crooned roughly at R’wign again before she reared onto her hind legs, front claws carefully pressing against the edge of the bed, away from R’wign to prevent pricking him by accident, or either of the felines – Monster was still purring steadily, as reassuring as he could be – to nudge his shoulder lightly with her muzzle, her way of instructing him to lie back down. She’d claimed him, didn’t he see? She wouldn’t have him dying on her; Hers would be very upset and then it would all be for nothing, and what if LoveHers did get sick? Didn’t he want to get better to make it worth something, at the very least? Jingth’s eyes were still yellow and orange, the vivid color marking a sharp contrast to the pale shades of her hide, and the hatchling dropped back to all fours before she huffed at R’wign. He was hers. The couch that poked, he was; Hers liked him very much and he had to get better. It would make LoveHers happy, and that would make Jingth happy by default. She didn’t talk to him – M’ta had been a one-time only, mostly because there’d been no time to ask Behruth to pass it along for her.

Nonetheless, her message was clear: Lie down, get better, make happy. Good plan. Simple plan.

[Requiem]

Awake? Well, it made sense, he supposed, but M'ta likely wouldn't have said what he had if he'd known R'wign was awake. You could cough while you were asleep, after all, and he hadn't said a thing, just lying so still you could have believed he was - dead - aside from the wheezing. The words caused M'ta to look up, however, his eyes narrowing into a glare that held no punches. It might have seemed odd, what with the tears still tracking his cheeks, the pallor and the hollowness that sleeplessness added to a face, but disapproval was too light a word for the emotion behind the eyes that greeted R'wign.

He said nothing, though, because to open his mouth was to let it all spill out at once, and Meira couldn't be here for that. Meira shouldn't be here at all. Her trembling scared him, though he thought - he hoped - it was only to do with the emotions behind the last events. That was entirely possible. Likely, even. Still, she was trembling and the part of him that had always been strongest wanted to still that trembling and take care of her. Possessive, was M'ta, even if he was so rational as to seem unfeeling at times. Losing one was better than losing two, always, but he had to admit he might - maybe - keep both this way, if only R'wign got better and Meira didn't...no point in dwelling on that now.

Her stiffening at the healer's words only stoked M'ta's anger, his arms loosening so she could move, though he shifted to support her better. All in silence. "No one's getting sick," he replied, almost too briskly, as he didn't care to allow R'wign to speak. To say anything else that was stupid. M'ta rose, lifting Meira by the elbow and, afraid she might not be able to walk (she seemed so frail at present) the short man lifted her, urging her to put her arms around his neck with one hand as he settled her against his chest rather easily. Even pregnant, she was lighter than he was, and M'ta was capable of carrying a fair sight more. "I won't take you far, but this room isn't safe. Mine's clean." He kept it so. Foolish as it might have been to be around the plague so much, he was meticulous about keeping the small part of the infirmary he'd staked out as his sanitary.

"Watch him," M'ta added to P.M.S., though he seriously doubted R'wign was going anywhere. Nor did the young man worry about Meira fighting him. He was stronger, and Jingth would back him up, surely. She had to be more worried than M'ta. The room wasn't far. He set her on the cot, kneeling to tug at her shoes while he tried to think. Weariness pulled at his brain. "It's...worse to be the one left. I'm sure he's glad to be alive," M'ta finally stated, not looking up. "I meant the thank you. You and R'wign are all I have, and Behruth would be devastated." The shoes off, he rubbed at his face. "That's why you have to stay here, rest, take care of yourself. For awhile, yes? I don't want to have to bury anyone else. I'll stay with R'wign, but if you have need of me Jingth need only tell Ruth. Yes?" He glanced up at her. It hardly occurred to him that she might protest, mostly because it wouldn't have occurred to him that she might not trust him with R'wign. If she didn't...it would hurt. But he wasn't in a mood to wait, or to be argued with; the brownrider was already standing and out the door, headed back to R'wign's room.

He slipped in, shutting the door behind him, and for a long moment he just stood there, leaning against it and staring at R'wign. It had come far too close. Far too close. P.M.S. whined slightly and curled tight against R'wign's neck. His expression obscured by the dim light of the room and the fall of the curls that hadn't yet been cut back to a manageable length, M'ta's voice was remarkably cold. "What right do you have to speak to her that way? She knew the risks and chose to accept them, as we all have done in one way or another." Advancing towards the cot, M'ta settled near the foot, partly because being near assured him that R'wign truly was here.

"I don't care if you don't think your life is worth the risk. Most of the healers here would probably agree with you. It doesn't matter what you or I or anyone else thinks, though, because it's her choice. It's selfish to expect her to live with the knowledge that she might have saved you if she tried, when you would rather die than risk her. If you care so much you should want to spare her the pain of not having you here, because, damn you, for whatever reason, R'wign, both of us want to have you around. It's not your decision to make. And you growl at her for it."

His voice was little more than a hiss, but the tears that hadn't stopped had managed to pick up pace. He hated showing weakness. "Do you even realize what it would be like for us - for me, for Ruth - without you and Checkoth? Don't put so little stock on your worth. Don't insult us in that way. And shardit, why did you come here so often when you knew you were at greater risk?!" Because he wasn't stupid, even if he wasn't a healer. R'wign didn't ride Checkoth for a reason, something M'ta would have to be completely oblivious not to notice, and he'd seen too many with breathing sicknesses on the streets of Bitra not to recognize it in the laboring breaths. It was more than just his eye the siege had stolen from R'wign, and if M'ta knew a little about such things, the healer definitely knew the risks he was taking.

"You can't...you can't...scold people for pulling the same stupidity you do. And at least she didn't hide it from me." Ah. The main source of his anger, right there. "Throw your life away if you want, but you can't expect us to stand passively by and let you. I meant that I would have let you die, but only because I'm no healer and don't know how to save someone in that situation. You're fortunate you're so sick still, or I'd slug you. By Faranth, I would."

Mine wants to hit him, Behruth responded apologetically. I'm just glad you won't be leaving us. So scared. He let his muzzle rest on Checkoth's shoulder. Mine is upset Yours didn't tell him about the breathing, that Yours doesn't want to live. It hurts him. He is...very angry and sad and I don't understand it, but shouldn't we be happy now?