Sticks and Stones. [Tags; Z'hin]

[glamourie]

He hurt all over. That was the first conscious thought that Ka’rys had. His eyes didn’t open; he laid flat on his back and breathed. He hurt. The most prominent focus of that hurt was his legs. One of them was definitely broken, and ironically, not the one with the barely-healed ankle. His right arm also did not want to move properly, likely because of a cast. He was positive that he had bruises all over his sides, and probably on his face. Yes, Ka’rys could distinctly remember an elbow impacting his nose, though whether it was intentional or not slipped his mind. He’d hit his head very hard. It was a wonder he could think at all. Slowly, steadily, Ka’rys lifted his left hand and reached up to bat at his own face. That one touch made him intake breath sharply and he dropped his fingers back to his side. Black eye. Lovely. He and Savitri could match. That thought wasn’t very nice but it comforted him to know that, despite the throbbing headache, he was still himself. Ornery as ever.

What was his last memory? Guhhh. He’d been arguing with Z’hin. Specifically, he’d been angry with Z’hin for being out fighting felines, though he tried to mask it with complaints that the brown rider was setting a bad example for Kalerary. Not that he knew much of the details about what had happened, but -- it was enough; he didn’t like the idea of one of the few people his daughter liked getting killed over foolishness. Somehow that escalated - he couldn’t recall how - into him slugging Z’hin. It didn’t really matter the specifics because the brown rider had a peculiar talent for making Ka’rys just have to hit him. It was compulsive. After that, the next thing he could remember was tumbling down the stairs and ending up directly beneath Z’hin… who weighed a lot more than he looked, or so was his opinion. His chest felt like someone had dropped a weight directly on it, crushing his ribs. He’d hit his head and he lost consciousness, and past that, everything was foggy. He remembered R’wign looking down at him with a very condescending smirk (that he’d wanted to smack off of his face) and the healer saying something like, “Regular sex has made you clumsy, bronze rider.” And then he’d woke up.

Groaning, Ka’rys slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurred for several seconds before a wooden ceiling came into focus. That was followed by the smell; very distinct was the odor of numbweed mingling with cleaning solutions and other healing supplies. He cringed and exhaled exaggeratedly. The infirmary. That explained R’wign’s words, the pain - where else would he have been, really? Ka’rys exhaled again and shuddered. Breathing was painful, which meant his chest was probably bruised black. How long had he been unconscious? He mentally reached out for Ciceroth and a wave of relief flooded him that wasn’t his own; the bronze was extremely happy he was awake. No words came but none were needed to express the utter exuberance that came from his winged counterpart. Ciceroth was not the only one happy he was awake, though. Ophelie and Liette chirped at him (he could tell their ‘voices’ easily) from somewhere in the room that he couldn’t see. He wasn’t alone.

Ka’rys took a moment to catch his breath and then, with his good arm, slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position. That one movement brought tears to his eyes from pain, but he blinked them away casually. Once he was sitting, he looked around the section of the room he was in, and then leaned his head back. There was a lump in the bed next to him that he couldn’t really make out, given that his head was still swimming. He felt as though he’d been run over by a caravan and left out on the road for a few days. The only consolation he felt was that no matter how hurt he was, Z’hin was hurt worse. How did he know that? Because if the brown rider wasn’t yet, he would be. Ka’rys still had one good arm with which to throw things, and he hurt enough to blame it on hallucinations wrought by pain. Not that anyone would believe him but having a viable excuse was relieving.

“Ugk,” he said very eloquently as he rested his head back. His gaze snared on the ceiling again as though it were the most interesting thing on all of Pern. “How long was I out for…?” Not that he expected an answer, but the question came out just the same. Ooh, headache…

[Requiem]

Can I eat him? No. Why not? You don't fit. There was a long pause. Well, there is that. Quite. Later then? I don't really care, Jess. Right about now, Z'hin was vehemently wishing he'd been knocked out. Jessereth was driving him crazy. Absolutely batty. Either that, or the walls actually were closing in on him. Short of a fundamental shift in the order of things, it had to be Jessereth. Or maybe it was the throbbing that seemed to be causing the walls to expand and contract like a living organism. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the warmth pressed against his stomach. Hrorek.

Millieth will Rise, the brown continued plaintively. I know. You're hurt. Jessereth... I wanted to chase her. I know! He wasn't sure what was worse, being stuck in this infirmary again with his body feeling like there wasn't a single bone left unbroken, or Jessereth's constant whining. He let out a breath through his nose (because his jaw burned at the slightest movement) and tried to batten down his frustration before Jessereth moved on from whining to sulking. I know. You keep telling me. Sorry to spoil it for you. It was Ciceroth's - You can't eat him here.

Ka'rys packed a mean punch, Z'hin thought to himself ruefully, feeling the sharp stab from his snapped collarbone as he tried to find a slightly more comfortable position. His jaw was swollen and probably a lovely range of unnatural colors by this point, but the healers said it wasn't broken. Could have fooled him. He only hoped that the bronzerider had broken a few bones in his hand when he decked him. Z'hin hadn't seen it coming. He'd been distracted by something, but Faranth if he could remember what it was, and then his jaw exploded and he staggered and...Ka'rys was a poor anchor. Cracked ribs, a broken collarbone, bruised tailbone, and enough scrapes and bruises to make every move very, very uncomfortable. Thank you Ka'rys. Z'hin was safer with the felines.

Movement at his back. Lovely. The man was awake. "Not long enough," he growled, but the pain and the swollen jaw made his voice sound muddy and strained...if not completely unintelligible. Of course, he was hurting if he moved or if he didn't, so Z'hin didn't let that stop him. He knew what he was saying, anyway. "Wonderful lecture, by the way. Definitely shouldn't be doing anything foolish and setting a bad example for Kale." Sarcasm? Yes. He didn't care. Ka'rys had put him here, and he certainly had no remorse for bringing the bronzerider down the stairs with him, even if it had been unintentional at the time.

The urge to find the nearest bedpan and knock Ka'rys senseless again welled up, but he couldn't find the desire to actually follow through. That would involve moving. He hated infirmaries. How he hated them.

[glamourie]

Z’hin. It didn’t take a genius to identify the voice and Ka’rys immediately clenched his eyes closed in a half-baked attempt to fall back asleep. He was not feeling up to arguing with the brown rider. Aside from the fact that there was nothing within arm’s reach to hurl at the ignorant buffoon’s head, Ka’rys also was hurting all over. His first instinct was to snap back that it was Z’hin’s fault they’d gone down the stairs, because it was. Not his fault that Z’hin was unbalanced. He was balanced just fine until someone much larger than him (in bulk at least) grabbed and pulled him down the stairs. He could remember tumbling, and really the only thing that saved him from being totally crushed was that they had the stairs to break up the fall entirely. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not because the bruises all over his body and his aching legs were enough to make him want to throw up. Soothingly, Ka’rys took two deep breaths. His stomach stopped flip-flopping only slightly and he leaned his head back, propping himself against the headboards for balance. A slight nausea remained, but… he wasn’t in danger of spraying Z’hin with bile any time soon. Perfect.

“Did you say something?” he replied, voice very soft; it was an effort to speak, but he managed it okay, to his immense relief. If he’d gagged or choked in some way, he would have melted into the bed in shame. Ka’rys was too proud for his own good. To lose the ability to do something so simple as speak would have been a hideous embarrassment. “All that I heard,” the bronze rider continued, unaware of whether or not his companion could hear him, “was nonsense. Not unusual for your babble, though, I must confess. Should you be talking? You look like death revisited.” Ka’rys started to smirk and winced at the pain shooting through his face. He’d have to settle for letting his tone get the message across, as his physical language was all but lost in the injuries. He could hardly move without pain. It didn’t help that he rejected numbweed. Somehow he doubted that the healers would see his side on that issue as well. Stubborn fools with their insistence on ridiculous habits.

How long was ‘not long enough’? Ka’rys daren’t ask Z’hin. Instead he sought Ciceroth, whose response was the draconic equivalent of ‘too long.’ No actual explanation, but was any needed? Dragons had a very poor concept of time, he knew, and though he had hoped his beast would answer, he supposed he could deduce from the bronze’s reaction that it was only a matter of days. He wasn’t keening loud enough to deafen the Weyr yet, so Ka’rys must not have been out long. When it came to fussing over his rider, the normally even-tempered dragon made no bones about being exceedingly loud if it got him somewhere… and usually a bronze the size of a small queen making a disturbingly large amount of racket was impossible to ignore. Efficient, Ciceroth was. No one could deny that.

You hurt all over, the bronze lamented, and Ka’rys knew instantly that Ciceroth was nearby. Outside, to be more specific. The level of discomfort Ciceroth offered was only half from his physical pain, which meant that Jessereth was probably nearby. For reasons Ka’rys could barely comprehend, Ciceroth did not like the brown. He didn’t normally care about other dragons, choosing to ignore those he didn’t like, but Jessereth was… special. A special case. It disturbed Ka’rys immensely, and he attempted to mentally soothe his agitated mindmate. Ciceroth tuned the comfort out and repeated, You hurt all over. Jessereth’s has hurt you. There was definite malice in those words, and Ka’rys winced visibly. Something should be done about them. About Him. But you must be taken care of first. Should I hunt down Checkoth’s, or SavitriCath’s?

“Not necessary,” Ka’rys mumbled in response to Ciceroth, before turning to look straight at Z’hin. “Which healer had the brilliant idea to put you next to me? I need to know who to send the thank you to…”

[Requiem]

It was quite bothersome. A pretty much universal human trait? When people started speaking especially softly, your ears just naturally strained to pick it out. Ka'rys would have been far easier to tune out if he was speaking at a normal decibel level. Z'hin kept his eyes closed to avoid watching the pulsating walls. As a general rule, the brownrider didn't get sick, even sick with pain, but that didn't mean the unnatural movements of what should have been stationary objects weren't giving him an even worse headache. It almost reminded him of the claustrophobic feeling that had plagued him for so long when in large groups of people - a condition he definitely didn't suffer from anymore.

You should not turn your back to Ciceroth's, Jessereth interjected suddenly, the vague anxiousness at the back of Z'hin's mind becoming clear with that statement. It was the brown who was nervous. Jessereth, you labor under the illusion that Ka'rys isn't fully capable of killing me if he truly wanted me dead. Jess didn't much like that answer. Z'hin really couldn't blame him. Unintentional or not, a tumble down the stairs didn't always end with a trip to the infirmary. They'd gotten lucky. Most likely because they'd impacted each other almost as much as the stairs going down, and human beings were softer than stone. Not that his body could really tell the difference right now.

It was definitely more for Jessereth's sake than his own that he chose to roll over onto his back, unable to fully suppress the pained groan as his bruised and battered body switched positions. Hrorek crawled up onto his stomach and curled up again, gaze watching Ka'rys with placid curiosity. The blue was a little confused about the whole thing, mostly because the emotions of his bonded and the big brown brother didn't match up with what had happened. There. I can see him now. Better? No. It will be better when he isn't there. You're going to have to deal for awhile then. Z'hin glanced at Ka'rys, his eyes narrowing in a rare ill humor. Whether it was Jessereth's hostility and bothersome worry, the tremendous amount of pain involved from taking a fall down the side of a cliff, or the fact that this was an infirmary - most likely all of the above - Z'hin wasn't really in the mood to humor Ka'rys. His tone had a decidedly vicious edge when he retorted, "Shame I couldn't appreciate having you under me, bronzerider. S'rei was quite impressed by your skill." Laughable, considering Z'hin wouldn't come within a hundred yards of S'rei even if you bribed him, but he wasn't above resorting to pettiness.

He eyed Ka'rys for a painfully long moment, faintly amused that the older man looked nearly as bruised as he felt, then tried to remember how he'd gotten here. No, he hadn't been knocked unconscious for...however long it had been...but to say that he'd been entirely lucid was pushing it. "R'wign or Savitri maybe? I don't know...it was a blur. Could have been anyone." Lifting his right arm - his half-useless left was immobilized because of the collarbone - he passed his hand over his eyes wearily. Now the ceiling was expanding and contracting. He glared at it to see if it would stop, but no, that would just be too simple, wouldn't it?

[glamourie]

He probably should’ve been mad. It would have been a justified emotion. The jab about S’rei was more than a little uncalled for. Had he really done something to deserve personally insults? Perhaps punching Z’hin in the face did, but… Ka’rys was a creature of logic; if Z’hin didn’t want to be punched, he would stop doing the things he knew set Ka’rys off. It was deliberate on the brown rider’s part, which meant he felt no remorse. Throwing oneself into fire came with the logical expectation of burns, and if Z’hin couldn’t handle that, too bad. Ka’rys hadn’t done anything to deserve that comment at all, though, at least in his mind, and it should’ve offended him. It didn’t, though. Instead, the bronze rider just sighed, his hand coming up to his face to rub at his eye. It hurt to do so, given how bruised up he was, but the tension forming behind his eyes were impossible to ignore. Sharding brown rider. Why did he have to make everything in life so very difficult? Ka’rys mentally cursed. If not for Kalerary, he probably would have throttled the life out of Z’hin by then. Ka’rys was positive the action could qualify as a “mercy killing.” Z’hin had it coming with both barrels.

“Sorry,” he began, disgusted at how weak his voice still sounded. “I really only prefer real men in my bed, and you don’t qualify.” Petty? Yes, certainly, but Z’hin brought it on himself. Not that Ka’rys meant it. Really, men did not appeal to him. Women didn’t much either. He wasn’t a physical entity in that regard, and given how much pain he was in, the very idea made his stomach flip over. No, no. He didn’t want anyone touching him.

Who had put him next to Z’hin? … Not Savitri; she wasn’t foolish enough to do that. She had to realize how little he liked the brown rider. R’wign more likely. He’d see it as justice. Ka’rys did not. The idea of being trapped near someone that he mostly-loathed was unpleasant, and he couldn’t stand, not with two broken legs. Waking up enough told him that they were both not functioning, and his face, oh his face. The very thought sent another chill of pain through his entire body and Ka’rys visibly shuddered. Where was Kalerary? Probably with R’wign, since he and Z’hin were both in the infirmary. In the other room maybe? How far? Had she seen how badly hurt they were? They were both in for an earful when she found them. Did Z’hin know? So many questions unanswered. His head throbbed from pain and Ka’rys let his eyes fall closed to try and block out the light emphasizing the ache.

I’m going to ask Checkoth where His is. I don’t want you alone with him, and you hurt. Do you want me to ask Checkoth where the hatchling is as well? Ciceroth inquired, obviously not going to listen to his rider; he thought he knew best, thank you. That and Jessereth’s physical proximity made him more than a little nervous. As it was, Ciceroth was literally making himself a fire hazard outside the dragon entrance to the Infirmary, blocking it entirely. There was more than one reason he chose that position. It kept Jessereth further from His. Are you hungry? I can tell Checkoth to make sure His brings you food. I don’t think there’s anything they can do for your head. You hit it very hard. The bronze paused, his tail flicking; anyone who could see him would be able to deduce he was not at all a happy dragon. You went dim. I couldn’t feel you. It was frightening. Don’t do it again. Yes, Ciceroth knew well that Ka’rys hadn’t done that on purpose; that did not stop him from being bossy. He simply wouldn’t have been Ciceroth if he hadn’t said it.

Ignoring his dragon, Ka’rys opened one eye to look at Z’hin. “I remember R’wign babbling at me. We can probably blame him. Savitri would not put me in a room with you.” He didn’t explain that Savitri would know not to inflict him on anyone else. She knew very well what an impossible patient he could be. “Where is Kalerary?”

[Requiem]

"Forgive me if I'm not broken up about it." Z'hin gritted his teeth against the pain stabbing through his jaw. It didn't help that the bruised tailbone was almost unbelievably uncomfortable in this position. Rolling over onto his left side wasn't at all an option, though. Most of his busted ribs and of course the collarbone was on that side. He didn't know why he was having so much trouble blocking Jessereth's bloodlust; usually this situation would have done little more than amuse him. (No, he didn't like infirmaries at all, but coming out of a fight with felines nearly unscathed, only to fall down the stairs and bust himself up into several agonized pieces? That was just funny.) Actually, if he was honest, he did know, but it was mildly disturbing that his beloved - if somewhat withdrawn - mindmate had changed so much since going north. Z'hin had changed, too, but returning to Selenitas had mostly caused him to revert. Not Jessereth. The pain from the fall weakened Z'hin, and his normal array of mental defenses were all but non-existant. The fact that he wasn't currently fantasizing about the best way to throttle or cook Ka'rys was, in itself, something of a miracle.

Because Jessereth really wasn't kidding about wanting to eat Ciceroth's. He reclined, even now, on the bank of the river not far from the infirmary, tailtip flicking in mild agitation as he watched the bronze intently. His memory wasn't terribly long, but he knew this wasn't the first time Ciceroth's had attacked His. The brown did not like the bronze's rider one bit. If he made an aggressive move...Ciceroth may be larger than the bronzes Jessereth had faced, but he still bled ichor. HinHis would not be killed by these.

It was not an attack. The brown growled softly from his post. Jessereth. No response. Jessereth. Ka'rys is not a danger. You clearly do not remember well, Mine. He's not a danger to me. No? It does not matter if it was on purpose or not. The ones that tried to kill us didn't hurt you this bad. I fell, Jess. That was all me. He's too small to reasonably believe that punching me would have resulted in that. I would not normally have fallen. He should not have hit you at all. Z'hin couldn't really argue with that. In this instance, he really hadn't been trying to provoke the bronzerider. It was just a bad time to start getting on his case, truthfully, right after the fight. The brownrider tried not to feel guilty about being the only one not seriously injured of the four, but it was difficult, and yes, he'd been sharp with Ka'rys. Well...now he was seriously injured, so he supposed it all evened out. Sort of.

So much for attempting to get Jessereth to tone down the murderous vibes. Z'hin resorted to trying to block Jess by directing his attentions to Hrorek. That...actually helped a bit. The blue didn't have much in the way of emotions. In fact, he was just watching the other flitters curiously right now, until a streak of green caught his eye by the door. The brownrider frowned mildly at the salamandyr, then tried to cover an amused smile. That had to be S'rei's little monster. Indeed, the creature shot across the floor, quickly ferreting out Ophelie's hiding place and snuggling up to the firelizard with affectionate croons. Hrorek watched them in silence.

Blinking at Ka'rys's question - he'd almost forgotten the man was there - Z'hin glanced toward the door. Hrorek was even quicker to respond than usual, perhaps because Z'hin was paying him more attention. The firelizard flew through the doorway and stopped, hovering. That one swift image was enough to draw out a soft hiss from the brownrider, as if he was a weyrbrat caught playing somewhere forbidden. He didn't have to be a mindreader to know what that expression meant. "Incoming," was his only response.

[glamourie]

Ophelie twittered pleasantly to Worm and nuzzled the other green in affection. Truthfully it could be said that she simply did not recognize that Worm was a green at all; given that the salamandyr had chased her, she just assumed it was a particularly unusual blue with odd hide. She was very fond of Worm, she was; her non-flyer was always very nice to her, always very affectionate. She couldn’t have picked a better mate. Her perch on one of the highest shelves on the room gave her a perfect view of everything nearby, too, and she had no problem curling herself around Worm as she watched Hers carefully. He was hurt, she knew, and it made Ophelie very sad. Only dedication to keeping her pet safe kept her from hunting down someone to help Hers, make sure he was not so badly hurt anymore. Someone had to be able to fix the broken Hers, right? Concerned, Ophelie chirruped, nuzzling Worm. Maybe her pretty non-flyer knew how to fix him? Did she? Would she help? Where was Liette? A hint of scarlet touched Ophelie’s eyes. Where was that little green who always got distracted? Probably staring at the big one! (Translation: Ciceroth) Hmphhh! She wanted to peck her, she did.

Oblivious to his fire lizard’s feelings, Ka’rys relaxed against the end of the bed. He chose not to comment on Z’hin’s words, mainly because the other rider was a source of contention for him. He blamed him for the pain shooting through all of his body, and that Z’hin felt he was in any position to insult him on top of it, even if it was nothing more than a jab, was appalling. If his head wasn’t swimming he would’ve given the brown rider a piece of his mind. As it was, the best he could offer up was a soft scoff, barely audible. His eyes fell closed and he listened, while mentally attempting to soothe Ciceroth. Unfortunately, Z’hin’s statement came at the exact moment of the infirmary room door slamming open with force enough to jolt Ka’rys’s eyes right back open and he turned his head in time to seethe equivalent of a small, dark-haired hurricane storming into the room to the spot right between the beds. It didn’t take someone observant to realize that Kalerary was very angry.

Dark brown hair tied in a tight braid made her face seem more severe; not even the usual bangs wisped around her face. Kalerary was dressed in a pair of dark brown pants and a blue shirt with sleeves cut off at the elbow. Her fingers were stained red from redwort, making it obvious she’d been in the infirmary working. The scowl on her face was so much her father as to be alarming, and from the way she looked between Z’hin and Ka’rys, it was obvious that neither of them would escape unscathed from the little girl’s wrath. They were her world, those two, and they were being terrible. What kind of adults got themselves hurt? She felt like the only grownup of the three of them! Bad, bad boys!

“What kind of dummies fall down the stairs together?” she hissed, glaring at them both. “You!” She whirled onto Ka’rys first, making it obvious which of the two she favored more (for she’d spared Z’hin the bulk of her wrath in that one moment). “Why were you hitting Z’hin? You had no reason to be starting a fight and now Ciceroth is hungry and outside and looking so sad, it’s all your fault, you owe him an apology. And I had to feet O’flee and Liette because you were out, and R’wign said your skull is too thick for smacking it to have knocked any sense into you. You’re thirty! You’re supposed to act like a growed up! Not like a weyrbrat!” Shaking her finger at him, she pointed at the cot. “You’re not supposed to be sitting up either. You’ve got so many broken bones and bruises you’re going to be stuck here, both of you, and now I gotta stay with R’wign and I don’t really like staying with him at night because he moves around a lot, and I have to share his furs instead of just having yours. All because you had to go be dumb and hit Z’hin and - and - You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Oblivious to the fact that mid-tirade, R’wign had arrived in the doorway, Kalerary spun around and started ranting right at Z’hin. “And you! You! What kind of dummy plays with felines twice! R’wign told me that’s how you hurt your arm before, ‘cause you rescued him from felines!” Obviously, R’wign had somewhat skewered the truth - perhaps to make Z’hin look better. “I don’t care if you didn’t get hurt bad, it was a silly thing to do. I’d miss you if you were gone and seeing you hurt makes me feel bad! You and papa both need to stop fighting constantly! And you owe Jessereth an apology too because I betcha he’s been worried sick about you. I know I have. Now you guys are stuck with each other in this room together until you’re better. Maybe you’ll learn to act like growed ups around one another since you can’t leave. I think you two should be forced to share a room until you can get along. It works for ‘brats and you guys make me feel like I’m the only adult here!”

Panting, Kalerary put her hands on her hips. Behind her, R’wign was grinning ear-to-ear, obviously very amused by the girl’s show. He didn’t interrupt. Ka’rys blinked twice at his daughter, then shot R’wign an accusing look, as though he was well-aware that the healer had something to do with her timely arrival. Either Kale didn’t notice or simply ignored him, instead looking between both brown and bronze rider with an indignant sniff. “What’ve you got to say for yourselves!”

[Requiem]

Worm trilled softly to her Ophelie, snuggling up near the firelizard’s head as her mate curled around her. Other salamandyrs might have found it strange that she would even chase one of the winged ones, yet alone take the lovely as her lifelong mate, but Ophelie was oh so very loving. She was always willing to let Worm cuddle with her, which was more than she could say for any other mandyr to date. They were all such busybodies. Not good that her mate’s bonded wasn’t well though. Crooning worriedly, her tongue lapped out to tickle along Ophelie’s headknobs. She did not know how to fix two-leggeds, but she would do anything Ophelie asked if the flyer thought that would help. OfleenotwellwellnotOfleesWormfixtryOfleesfix?

Hrorek, who had never once shown even the slightest glimmer of interest toward another firelizard, was far more interested in the little girl stalking into the room. He circled above her head in silence, before landing upon a shoulder, tucking his wings neatly along his back as his tail curled to rest lightly on her other shoulder. The flitter didn’t need to grip her very hard for balance, and his gaze flicked from his humanpet to the other as the girl made angry noises. He rubbed his head up against her as a means of comfort, tongue flicking out to lick her ear. Pressing a little tighter against her neck, he waited for the anger to go away, hoping she’d brought him something yummy to eat, since the humanpet was kind of stuck.

Z’hin propped himself up slightly to get a good look at Kalerary, who managed to look quite adult with that expression…only increasing the juxtaposition of the childlike words against what was clearly a grown-up sort of action. He couldn’t really decide whether the whole thing was just funny, or if he should be embarrassed, and for a long moment the man just stared at her blankly. A little girl telling two grown men off. More amusing, she was right for the most part. Amusement won out, and he fought to keep the smile from his face. Poor thing. Ka’rys and Z’hin were so inept she was having to play the adult.

He strongly suspected that part of his amusement was Jessereth’s own. The brown had…a soft spot…for Kalerary, and a rare one at that. It had developed very, very slowly. In fact, his affection for Kale really had been birthed when he realized that it bothered Ciceroth and His, but just because the feeling started off superficially didn’t mean it was anymore. She was special to His – and she didn’t steal HinMine’s attention nearly as much now that she wasn’t living with them anymore – so Jessereth saw her as special, too. But the majority of the brown’s amusement most definitely stemmed from the fact that the little human was growling at Ciceroth’s first. As it should be! What a good little human.

The brownrider did feel a touch of guilt as Kalerary started in on him, though, even if he was still very much amused by the picture she presented. It hadn’t been a smart thing to do, but he’d really seen little choice at the time. If there was anything he was guilty about, however, it was not the fact that he’d gone after the felines so much as he hadn’t thought about how it would effect Kale. At all. Z’hin was much too used to being mostly independent. It hadn’t occurred to him that she’d be upset, though it should have. Jessereth certainly wasn’t upset. He’d wanted to go after those felines and, even later, the brown wasn’t worried for His. It might have been misplaced confidence, yes, but the brown didn’t really think one of those creatures could really hurt his rider. Not his rider.

“I’m sorry, Kale,” he stated quietly, patting the bed at his side in clear invitation for her to come sit beside him. “Sometimes adults act really stupid. We’ll do better.” His eyes flicked up to R’wign. “The healer moves around too much, does he?” Z’hin’s grin was just a tad wicked. If Kale was sleeping with R’wign, that meant the weyrlingrider wasn’t up to his usual nighttime antics. At least it wasn’t just Z’hin and Ka’rys who would be miserable.

[glamourie]

Unfortunately, Ophelie was also at a loss for how to fix Hers. She just knew he hurt all over, and she did not like seeing Hers hurt. The green fire lizard twittered nervously and nudged her head against Worm before curling her body around the salamandyr as much as she could. She was a small green, but considerably larger given that fire lizards often dwarfed their land-bound cousins. Worm’s smaller form was a comfort to her and she welcomed the warmth of distraction. Maybe Hers would go back to sleep and stop hurting soon. She hoped so; it bothered her very much to see Hers unhappy… and the one in the other bed always made him terribly, terribly unhappy.

Though her tantrum had most of her attention, it could not be said that Kalerary was neglectful of animals - of any kind, really. As Hrorek landed on her shoulder, she dug around in one of her pockets before pulling out a meatroll. She carried it around a lot to feed the infirmary critters - everything from Kalierre’s evil bronze (if it came near her; she hoped to bribe it away with food) to R’wign’s fire lizards. There was plenty of meat left for Hrorek, and she pulled a strip off to offer to the blue without looking up at him. Her gaze was fixated back on Ka’rys, perhaps to Z’hin’s good fortune for she likely would not have taken well to his amusement at her expense. The seven-turn-old advanced on her father and stood right at the end of his bed before pointing an accusing finger at his face, mere centimeters from the end of his nose. It did not occur to her how oddly her behavior could be taken. She only saw his accusing glare and she was oblivious to R’wign being present.

“Don’t you give me that look. You’ve got lots of broken bones and Millieth is glowy, and Ciceroth can’t chase so now you gotta ask Savivi -” She always failed to pronounce the gold rider’s name right, perhaps on purpose; Kalerary did not like gold riders, “- if she’ll take him with her wherever she takes that gold dragon of hers. We’re gonna end up with another T’rid Weyrleader and it’s all your fault. I liked being Weyrleader Kalerary. I’m mad at you.”

However, most of her anger fizzled out as Z’hin spoke. She turned around and looked at the brown rider thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. “You better, ‘cause the infirmary food is naaaaasty. They like to serve this weird stuff that I think is actually sand mixed with water. R’wign insists that it’s your favorite, but I think he’s fibbin’,” she explained, then followed Z’hin’s gaze to the healer. A hint of a flush colored her cheeks as she realized he was present for her fit the whole time. Fortunately, he didn’t comment and neither did she. “He does move around a lot, and he talks in his sleep. He babbles about plants, it’s kinda funny. R’wign, how come you babble about plants in your sleep? What’s redwort got to do with fish?” Her head cocked to the side and she sat on the end of Ka’rys’s bed, snaking one hand down to curl her fingers with his. The bronze rider glanced up at her, and raised an eyebrow in amusement as he clasped their hands together. It was his only response to the girl’s tirade.

R’wign, on the other hand, couldn’t pass up a smile. “I have no idea. My father was a fisher, so we did a lot of that growing up. Redwort I use a lot here. Meeting of minds? I don’t know why I move so much. Maybe I work in my sleep. Are you two wherrybrains hungry? You’ve both been out for at least a day. Z’hin, you might want to remind Jessereth to hunt, too - not sure if he remembered, but he and Ciceroth have both pretty much been lurking near the Infirmary and if he’s anything like he used to be, it’d be good to make sure. I seem to recall him forgetting about anything but your health before. Checkoth’s too easily distracted to make for much of a messenger, too…”

[Requiem]

Worm rumbled softly in her throat, not liking that her mate was this upset. She peered as well as she could at Ophelie's pet, knowing even so that there really wasn't anything she could do. Wriggling slightly, she manuevered to where her head rested on Ophelie's neck, rubbing lightly behind the flitter's earknobs in what was clearly a comforting gesture. Stretching just enough that she was sure to be completely touching her mate, she settled for a quiet croon. It would be better soon. Ophelie would see. If her pet was really, really bad, then Worm's pet would be here and hovering, but he wasn't, see? So Ophelie's would get better.

In stark contrast to the greens up on their shelf, Hrorek was crooning in quiet contentment as he gently relieved Kale of the proferred meat, taking it in his claws to eat it daintily as he glanced around. Hrorek noted where everything and everyone was, tail sliding around to stroke the girl's neck lightly in a rhythm that could only be considered petting. The nice little human was such a good one, she was, feeding him like humans should. Yes, he would definitely keep her.

The man was more than just a little amused in general, truth be told. Kalerary amused him. So did Hrorek and R'wign. Even Ka'rys did a little, though not as much because he just seemed very out of it. He would have responded to the girl, normally, but that would mean interrupting her conversation with R'wign, and Z'hin wasn't in the habit of interrupting people. Instead, he wriggled a little further up against his pillow, steeling himself against all the shots of pain that single action sent through him. Okay. He may have been out longer - and technically had taken more damage - during that first feline fight when Jessereth was still half-grown, but he thought he actually hurt more now. Possibly because everything hurt instead of just a few places. And things were still throbbing all over. He wasn't as far gone as Ka'rys, but neither was Z'hin fully there.

He looked up at R'wign, frowning slightly in obvious confusion before passing his hand over his jaw and flinching at the pressure. Ah. Now his mind was slightly clearer. He narrowed his eyes at the healer to keep the man from moving around so much, but it didn't really work. "Jessereth...hunt. Right." Swallowing on a dry throat, he reached out to his brown, but the dragon let him know that he was aware rather dismissively. The rider was almost certain that his dragon didn't at all intend to go hunting - not while Ciceroth was still hanging around. But he found himself unwilling to fight Jessereth on it.

"Bring me that stuff you healers were trying to kill me with last time I was in here, R'wign, and I will be chucking the goop at the next healer to walk in the door," he muttered, volume quite soft. He'd closed his eyes to block out all the movement again, grunting softly. This. Was not. At all comfortable. But Jessereth would freak out and send him anxiety vibes if he turned from Ka'rys again, even though the bronzerider was even less capable of coherent thought than he was. "If Cezine or Paryal comes, I'm not home," he added seriously.

[glamourie]

Ophelie twittered softly. Then her head bowed and she curled into a small ball, wound around and amongst Worm as much as she possibly could. The salamandyr’s reassuring was somewhat helpful, but not truly; she understood, perhaps better than Worm did, that Hers had no attachment to Worm’s. She didn’t understand why but she knew Hers liked only the one with the evil white thing and the loud thing and the shiny, shiny big one. There was no way to explain that to her mate, though, and she did not wish to upset her Worm, so instead, she settled her head curled under her body as much as she could. It was undoubtedly an awkward position, but with any luck, she’d get some sleep. Then when she woke up Hers would be feeling better, right? He sounded so tired, he felt so exhausted, poor, poor Hers. She briefly considered cuddling him, but he did not like her Worm. So puzzling. Ophelie chirped and then closed all the layers of her eyelids to sleep.

From his spot at the other end of the infirmary (notably out of throwing range), R’wign quirked an eyebrow. He propped his foot up against the door frame and eyed Z’hin skeptically as the older brown rider offered forth his threat. He was decidedly unimpressed. Considering that R’wign was able to dodge flying gruel exceedingly well (Z’hin had more than given him his fair share of practice there), the threat wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. However, the brown rider’s statement about Paryal and Cezine made him raise both of his eyebrows. As far as he knew, Cezine hadn’t spoken to Z’hin in months, and Paryal… Paryal was several turns dead. Just hearing her name made his blood run cold though and he smiled weakly before looking toward Kalerary.

“I think our injured pair need to get some rest,” he suggested with a vague gesture toward the dragon riders. “Let’s get them tucked in, then you can get Hrorek something to eat proper, and I’ll see if Checkoth will help me get Jessereth fed.” He wasn’t worried about Ciceroth. Hepaticath hunted enough for him. He didn’t know if the gold was bringing Jess anything, though -- Jessereth had a peculiar talent for alienating all dragons not Calistoth. It didn’t take someone exceedingly observant to pick up on that fact. Though, R’wign was at a loss for what it was that Jessereth did. He personally had no problem with the brown, although his Checkoth was very, very frightened of him. So strange, surreal even. “You want to take Z’hin and I’ll handle your father?”

Indeed, while R’wign was speaking, Ka’rys had turned his head slightly. His eyes were closed, and the bronze rider had very clearly fallen back asleep. He looked peaceful despite the bruises, and with his eyes closed, most of the scorn had left his figure. Ka’rys always looked younger when he was asleep… and much more pleasant to be around.

Kalerary nodded up to R’wign and walked over to Z’hin’s bed side before grabbing the blankets. Carefully, she pulled them up as much as she could and then leaned forward to kiss Z’hin on the forehead. “You should get some sleep. I’ll make sure R’wign doesn’t bring you anything nasty to eat, I promise, and I’ll look after Hrorek for you,” she said with utmost sincerity, as one hand came up to pet the blue on her shoulder. “You need to rest. You look really, really tired.” Actually he looked like someone had taken a bag of firestone and beaten him with it but even Kalerary had enough tact not to say as much. For her to be anything but disgustingly blunt was also a miracle. Bruises were very good influences on her sharp tongue, evidently. “Sleep well, Z’hin~”

The healer stalked over to Ka’rys and pulled the blankets up over his chest before putting the bronze rider’s arm on top of them. To his surprise, Ka’rys didn’t even flinch. Usually he woke at the slightest sound. He must have been in pain. Quirking his eyebrows, R’wign shrugged, then pulled the shades on the windows down before stalking out of the infirmary room with a vague gesture for Kalerary to follow. They had work to do, after all.