Never Too Late to Apologize (Ka'rys)

[kysseh]

Mine, are you all right? You are very quiet still. Hepaticath prodded very gently at the mind of Hers, the little queen watching the young woman fuss around their shared room in the barracks. Hers had been awfully quiet since returning from the fight with the Dangerous One and Ciceroth's, and while Savitri was normally not prone to chatter, this was unusually silent, even for her. She had started to get better, but something about today had her bothered, and Cath could not possibly understand what it was.

It was deliberate on Savitri's part that Hepaticath was not informed why her bonded was feeling a bit put out today. The gold had been near furious with concern when Savitri had returned to the weyrling barracks covered in blood and still distressed from her failed attempts at friendliness with the weyrleader. She had been grateful that Mutasim was not going to suffer any serious permanent damage, but Ka'rys' outright rejection of her good intentions was a startling blow. Or... she thought it was just plain rejection. He seemed to think that friends were a liability, and she took that to mean he just wasn't interested in spending time around her. Well... fine, then. He could take it however he wanted, but that was not going to change the fact that she was worried about his injured arm still.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, the young woman stopped a moment to scratch her mindmate's eyeridges. Hepaticath had far more patience than Savitri could ever have thought a dragon possessed, and sometimes, she was still bemused and overwhelmed by the adoration that the queen had for her. The reality of her new life as a goldrider was sinking in, and while it was not nearly as fun as some females might have wished, Savitri had no complaints. It was worth a few indignities and inconveniences to experience the kind of loving bond that she shared with the calm, if overly nosy, weyrling.

"I'll be back in a bit," she promised before she slipped out of their room, a destination firmly in mind. It had been eight days since she'd put stitches into two unruly patients, and the weyrleader's arm needed to have those stitches removed before the skin grew too much around the stiff thread she'd used. Hopefully, he had been taking proper care of it and there would be no further need for intervention, but one just never knew what sort of patient a person would be. And Ka'rys... he seemed unlikely to be a good one.

She reached the steps leading toward the level of weyrs she was looking for and touched on her gold's mind, wincing as Hepaticath realized what she was up to and responded with much scathing. Just tell Ciceroth that I'm coming up, Cath. I'm not going to stay long, but I want to make sure that his arm is all right. she pleaded with the weyrling until the other female consented, albeit a bit reluctantly.

Ciceroth? Cath gently sought the mind presence of her playmate, not wishing to startle or disturb him. It was not him that she was angry at, after all. It was His that had so upset Hers. Mine is coming to check on Yours to make sure he is healing well. She is just outside your weyr. The weyrling shifted a bit on her couch, crooning softly as her mental 'voice' mellowed into something apologetic. And I am sorry for bothering you about what Yours was doing to Mine. It was not quite how she wanted to put it, but it would do. As it was, the incident would have rapidly faded from her mind were it not for Savitri's prolonged and now renewed distress over it.

The young healer, hair tied neatly back behind her head to keep it out of her way, poked her head into the bronzerider's weyr, looking for her patient. "Ka'rys?" She was unsure of what her reception would be, but her voice was as strong as over, if only because she refused to break down in front of him again. "Time to get rid of the stitches, remember?" That ought to chase him out of hiding, right?

[glamourie]

If dragons could cringe, Ciceroth would have. He liked Hepaticath plenty, and her talking to him was rarely a bad thing. The problem was, what she said made him want to curl up and hide beneath his wings. His had been quite pointedly avoiding the young queenrider, and for good reason - she'd made it painfully clear she wanted him gone and he had no problems accommodating that desire. Avoidance was a specialty of his bonded, as much as Ciceroth was loathe to admit it, and finding out that Savitri was going to try to talk to RysHis didn't thrill him by any means. He did appreciate the reasoning, he just... knew that it would go over poorly. Ka'rys was still upset with him. Upset enough that he didn't speak to him if he could help it, which generally meant that he was sulking. In a few days he'd go back to acting as if nothing was wrong, he always did. He'd treat Ciceroth as normal, but the girl? Probably not; he was acting surprisingly strange about her. Ciceroth deduced that the amount of emotions His felt all at once confused and enraged him. So he left it alone - or he'd meant to...

You owe no apologies; I will tell him she is coming... when she is close enough that he cannot run away, Ciceroth replied softly, no hint of scorn in his 'voice.' He'd already forgotten most of what the conflict was about - all he remembered was that His was exceptionally upset, and that he and Savitri had something to do with it. He couldn't remember details and really, did they matter? Not to Ciceroth. He was just upset that Ka'rys was, and he knew he'd made it worse, though after eight days, he didn't remember why and His wouldn't talk about it. He continually said not to worry. But Ciceroth was worried, even as he passed the message along to his Rys.

And promptly earned a flinch from Ka'rys. The bronzerider was lying flat on his back, arms at his sides, still as death. His eyes were closed and he was intently focused, listening to the sounds of the weyr around him - creeling and chirping, the waterfall nearby, the call of the wild felines in the jungle far enough away not to be a danger, and the thump-thump of Ciceroth's tail hitting the stone floor. He'd finally come back to sleeping in his own weyr, but he wasn't trying to fall asleep. Ka'rys was paying attention steadily to the noises, as if they could provide some clue or insight for him. A thousand different sounds, insects chittering away, firelizards fluting and chattering, dragons rumbling and crooning, terrified herdbeasts and wherries... and Ophelie's wings ruffling as she seemed to be trying to nest in his tunic, as if she could fit into the threads by repeatedly curling around on top of him. The green was very insistent on trying to become a part of his body, ever since he'd gotten hurt. She was protective, and very upset. She'd calm down when Ka'rys did, likely, but the little firelizard was distressed enough that separating her from her companion was near impossible.

Before he had a chance to roll away and hide under his furs (in hopes of not being noticed, no doubt), Savitri's voice sounded from near the doorway. Ka'rys opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of his weyr, not replying immediately. Maybe if he stayed perfectly still, she'd get discouraged and leave? Maybe she would assume he was asleep. Or dead. No, Ciceroth being there would dissuade that idea. Shards, shards. Ka'rys bit his tongue and brought his good arm up to cover his eyes, as Ciceroth turned and crooned an undeniably friendly greeting toward the goldrider; friendliness. His eyes whirled with affection and then he leaned down to nudge Ka'rys, and also to draw attention to where his bonded was laying at, as if he could be missed just sprawled out there. Considering how still Ka'rys was being, it wouldn't have been that hard to miss him at all. Ciceroth flicked his wing, then rolled Ka'rys over onto his stomach - causing Ophelie to disappear between.

Squinting, Ka'rys rolled over again, back onto his back, only to be nudged again by Ciceroth. The process was repeated for a few moments before he was close enough to the door to be seen and Ka'rys finally climbed to his knees, "I get it, Ciss, I get it, you can stop rolling me around like some kind of rock or something..." He climbed to his feet and forced back a wince as he rested his weight on his left arm. But he didn't look at Savitri; he wasn't really sure what to say to her anyway.

[kysseh]

Thank you. Hepaticath said quietly, politely, before falling silent. Ciceroth's unusually quiet tones had her thinking that something was more amiss than she suspected, and her involvement was probably only going to make things worse. She wanted to intervene and talk to Hers about it, but Savitri put a firm, silent stop to that train of thought. The queen crooned quietly and curled up a little tighter on her couch, wanting to do more to ease Hers' mind. But, she was stuck here, unable to fly over and babysit the two males and Hers until they solved this... issue. She similarly wanted to make a proper apology to her playmate, but judging by what Hers was seeing--Hepaticath was nosily sneaking the images from Savitri--that would be a bad idea at the moment.

The goldweyrling was watching in silence, looking for some hint of a clue as to where her patient was hiding at. When Ciceroth turned and uttered what she thought was a friendly noise, she smiled and stepped closer to greet the bronze, as well as apologize for the... mess she had caused. Well, she had not been alone in creating that situation, but she certainly had not helped it any. She had not made more than a handful of steps toward the bronze, though, when he suddenly began to nudge something into her field of vision. Her eyes widened as she realized that it was Ka'rys, and she panicked for about a half-second before she realized that the bronzerider could not be seriously damaged if Ciceroth was so calm. Still... what was he doing on the floor?!

When he rolled himself over onto his back again in response to Ciceroth's nudging, Savitri snorted softly and just watched the spectacle unfold. Stomach... back. Stomach... back. The firelizard--Ophelie, wasn't it?--had long-since been chased off by the rolling, but it still seemed to take some time before Ciceroth got his rider close enough to the door that Savitri could see that the man was making a point of not looking at her. Her brow furrowed, but she waited patiently while he lectured his dragon for shoving him toward the door. At least Ciceroth was on her side, and she spared a smile for the bronze. "Thank you, Ciceroth. I'm not really up for a game of hide-and-seek today," she said quietly, watching him get to his feet.

Her eyes narrowed as she noticed him get to his feet, using his injured arm, no less. She pursed her lips and then exhaled slowly through her nose in an attempt to keep calm. The idiot was never going to heal if he kept irritating it like that. If she had been any less of a person, she would have used that excuse to be none-too-gentle when removing the stitches. That, and his poor manners in failing to acknowledge her made her a little bit upset. She covered that by just striding over to meet him, right hand extended towards his injured forearm. "Hello to you too, Ka'rys. How's the arm?" In bad shape, most likely, but she would not put words into his mouth.

[glamourie]

Eyes whirling pleasantly, Ciceroth crooned. Then nudged Ka'rys again, making the bronzerider stumble and shoot him a dirty look. Folding his wings at his sides, the bronze promptly flopped back over to be laying down in what was undeniably a comfortable lounge across the weyr, as if he owned the entire place, and in his mind, he did. The look he received was ignored. He was more than accustomed to Ka'rys's hideous looks and had long since learned to ignore them. Besides, it made His stop sulking quite so much. If he was busy being indignant, he couldn't be wallowing, and if he wasn't wallowing, he would act more normal around Savitri. She didn't seem to like him too much when he acted normal, true enough, but Ciceroth highly doubted the gold weyrlingrider would exactly be thrilled by Ka'rys's recent behavior of avoiding any and everything resembling an emotion. Ciss didn't like it, and he was a lot harder to offend, it seemed, than Savitri was.

Ka'rys cast a half-glance at Savitri before looking down at his arm. Truthfully, it was sore. He'd tried to take care of it like she said, but he did virtually everything with his left arm. It was his stronger one, and breaking habit wasn't easy. He'd probably hurt it worse, but he wasn't about to tell her that. He didn't even want to talk, in all honesty. What he wanted was to tell Savitri that she didn't need to waste her time with him and be done with it. He didn't understand her, she clearly didn't like him, and they didn't have to get along for Ciceroth and Hepaticath to be friends if that was what she was worried about. She gained virtually nothing by wasting her time trying to befriend him when she obviously hated everything about him. The best thing he could think of would've been for her to go talk to someone who was more likely to be the kind of person she wanted to be around -- someone not him. He'd accepted quite well that he had a peculiar talent for setting her off. If he knew what it was he was doing, he probably would have tried to stop, but he didn't want to ask her, since the last time he tried, she had completely rebuffed his explanation. It was probably childish, but Ka'rys didn't give full, honest answers often, and to have one completely ignored discouraged him from trying again. He didn't know what to say, and thought that silence was better than trying to speak and risking offense. He didn't want Ciceroth mad at him again.

Problem was, he didn't know how to answer her question. If he said his arm was fine, she'd probably be angry, since it wasn't true. If he said his arm wasn't fine, she'd be angry... because his arm wasn't fine. Essentially, he couldn't win. So, Ka'rys glanced back at Ciceroth, almost in desperation, before holding out his left arm for her to look at; it was easier than trying to answer and risking getting his head bitten off. He was bound to be scolded but at least he couldn't be accused of whining and complaining. He wasn't after all. He just..

"I can't answer that question without making you mad at me again," he settled for saying, well-aware that she was probably going to yell anyway. He'd just determined that he was incapable of doing or saying anything without getting yelled at, but at least he was being.. semi-honest. "I used the aloe like you told me to though." Aloe, not numbweed. How he hated the smell of the stuff. His eyes flicked down to his arm. "It started to hurt rather badly a couple days ago; I ended up going down to the infirmary for someone to check it out." She was bound to figure that out when she talked to the other healers, so Ka'rys saw no problem in explaining it. "I don't like the smell of numbweed, so the aloe was the only solution. Aloe and a startling amount of herbal tea." Which had made him sleep a ridiculous amount. He strongly suspected that was the point in giving him it, too - to make him sleep. Ka'rys didn't point that out, figuring that Savitri could come to the obvious solution herself. He was trying to be.. semi-forthright, but the honest truth was that he'd rather have gone and begged another Healer to remove the stitches than have to face Savitri again. He wasn't afraid of her, per sey, she simply confused him, and he hated that feeling almost as much as he hated feeling helpless.. and she had a peculiar talent for spurring that emotion in him. "Is your friend okay?"

[kysseh]

At least Ciceroth was not angry or upset with her, and Savitri spared the bronze a smile... or as much of a smile as she ever gave. For all that her face was expressive of her emotions, rare was it that she really laughed or offered up a genuine smile. She just... didn't. And while Ciceroth probably deserved a lot of her kindness for having to put up with Ka'rys after what had happened, that was about the best she could manage for him. She would have Cath properly express her apologies later and turned her attention instead to the rider, who was glaring quite a bit at his dragon. Were they conversing silently, or was all the play-nudging just doing the speaking?

He at least noticed her now and then was focused on his arm, and the wait made her impatient. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, adjusting the strap of her bag where it was starting to dig into her shoulder. Finally, he offered the arm, and she stepped right up to him, relieved that he was not going to make a fuss about it. Though... well, he was awfully subdued, and she looked a bit startled at his admission that he had no decent answer so as to escape her anger. She frowned faintly and slipped her right hand beneath his wrist to hold it, using her left arm to carefully roll up his sleeve to reveal the still-bandaged wound. At least he kept the bandages on it, though if he was using it-

Her gaze turned from startled to mildly annoyed as he continued to explain, and then she quirked a small smile at his admission that he'd been drinking herbal tea. She wanted to tell him the other benefits of it, but she had a feeling that he might stop drinking if she did. She glanced around for somewhere to make him sit and then spied a chair and gently ushered him toward it, still silent. Her left hand released his elbow and put gentle pressure on his chest to encourage him to sit, her chin gesturing at the chair to indicate that was what was required. Then she knelt in front of his chair and began to unwrap the arm.

"I'm glad you got it checked out. You could have come to me, though. The healers there are busy enough, and they probably asked a lot of questions," she pointed out quietly. His admission of dislike of numbweed had her smiling faintly. She had dosed him fairly well last time, so perhaps that was part of the reason for his annoyance. Aloe was not bad either, but she hoped he had been regular with using it, at least twice a day. Herbal tea, though.... what good did knocking him out do? Granted, it made him get enough rest, but it did not dull the pain or keep the wound moist to help prevent excessive scar tissue as the wound closed. She had to wonder, but asking him was probably unwise. He did not seem to be the most talkative today... even less so than before.

"Mutasim is doing well. I'll be keeping an eye on him for awhile just to make sure, but... he's fine. Hopefully no permanent damage." His concern had her surprised, and she carefully set the bandage aside, arching an eyebrow up at him. Did he really think she was mad at him? Frustrated, perhaps. Upset. But not... not really angry. "I'm not mad at you, Ka'rys. I'm frustrated that you insist upon using that hand, but I'm not angry." Her light green eyes flicked up from the wound to his face, and simple honesty was evident in the lack of sulkiness or tension in her face. She was a bit confused, if anything.

But... the wound needed tending, and she turned her gaze back down to the stitched puncture wound, lightly moving her fingers down his arm about a fingerwidth on each side of his wound to check for swelling or any bleeding beneath the surface. Hopefully, her stitches on the interior had held. She didn't see any puddles of blood forming under the skin, and his arm didn't look like it was about to burst from pressure. "It might have started hurting then because the numbweed finally wore off. I dosed you pretty well," she admitted with a shrug of one shoulder. Actually, she had dosed him very, very well, though numbweed rarely lasted that long. "Though I doubt it. Anything oozing from the wound? Any odd swelling or discolorations?" She was bombarding him with questions, but her eyes were a little anxious now at the thought that the inner stitches could have failed.

[glamourie]

Ka'rys deliberately kept his face as blank as he could as she took his wrist. She didn't say anything at first, and Ka'rys went silent as the grave, not sure what else to add. He decided to simply do as he was told; hopefully that would keep him from being yelled at too badly. Then he'd go back to listening; strangely therapeutic, it was, to listen to the sounds of the weyr without actually participating in them. Like being an outsider again. He silently wished he could go back to exactly that. No one bothered him or made expectations of him; no one even bothered to notice him. He was willing to bet that if not for Ciceroth catching Aslath, even Savitri would never have spoken to him. Hepaticath would probably never have noticed Ciceroth and he'd have had his happy little hole where no one bothered him or cared one bit about what he said or did back again. He liked being ignored. It was a lot easier than trying to care about people, or being cared about, or trying to live a life he didn't like, wasn't used to and wouldn't try to fathom. He wasn't used to people trying to care about him, and he honestly did not know how to react. He'd taken almost a full turn to accept Ciceroth, by the Egg, and suddenly he was expected to care again -- for someone who seemed to get angry at everything he said? Why, because she cared about him? That wasn't fair. What was even more unfair was that he did like Savitri - he just.. didn't want to admit it or accept it; he was frightened.

"Rawign doesn't ask very many questions, actually; at least, not of me. I don't complain when he's less-than-gentle, he doesn't ask me questions. His exact explanation was, 'If you don't tell me, I don't have to lie when someone asks.'" There was a reason Ka'rys chose him over most healers. The fact that the boy took one look at Ciceroth and then followed instructions with unquestioning obedience was helpful. Evidently, Rawign was frightened of dragons. Ka'rys chose not to correct him on that front. "I didn't want to disturb you."

He'd only asked about the candidate because Savitri seemed to care so much about him. As far as Ka'rys was concerned, if he forever walked with a withered leg, he'd be as happy as could be. The boy would deserve it. No, he'd asked out of consideration for Savitri, though he doubted she'd recognize as much. He closed his eyes and chose not to respond to her comment that she was not angry. He did not believe her for a second. She acted angry. She acted like she disliked him. Ka'rys was used to people disliking him and he had come to expect no better. He didn't ask why; he didn't inquire to her motives. If she wasn't angry it was only that she wasn't angry that he used his arm; she was angry in general. No point arguing semantics. Instead, Ka'rys turned his eyes up toward the ceiling, so that he didn't have to watch Savitri, didn't have to look at her and feel... what? Rejection? Some part of him felt that; the bigger part of him was confused and hurt, still.

Healing, healing. That was easier to deal with. He continued staring upward at the ceiling, silent as the grave. He'd noticed she dosed him extraordinarily well with numbweed, enough that he'd gone straight to sleep as soon as he got still. He'd been sleeping a lot over the past eight days, and he wasn't particularly thrilled by it. Ka'rys hated sleeping. Sleeping made him vulnerable. So did not sleeping. Lose-lose. How he wished he could find some way to keep people out of his weyr permanently.

"I think it started hurting because of how much I was using it. It hasn't been oozing or swelling or anything. I'm left-handed; it's hard not to use it for things. I keep forgetting it's hurt until the pain shoots up my arm and by then I've already made it worse," he explained, turning his eyes at last back down to his arm. "The pain's dulled down now. It's mostly gone, only bothers me when I use it really." Not that she cared about the amount of pain he was in, he was sure. He chose not to add that little sarcastic tidbit to his words. Not worth the fight that would inevitably be caused by him shooting off his big mouth. "I don't think it's infected or anything, at least. Doesn't look to be, and I haven't been feverish at all..."

[kysseh]

It suddenly became very, very clear to Savitri that Ka'rys would likely have hid from her sight if he had known she was coming. Rawign... the healer, poisons specialist, that she had met at the Gather. Quiet.... and not prone to asking questions, apparently. He would be the perfect healer to the close-mouthed bronzerider who apparently wanted little in the way of caring or concern. She sighed as he admitted that he did not want to disturb her. More lies, or was he being honest this time? Hard to tell. "It would not have been that serious of a disturbance, weyrleader." The formal title slipped from her lips before she could stop it, but her tone was not one of accusation. More of... a strange mixture of reassurance and exasperation. "Honestly, Cath would not have minded me diverting my attention from her beauty for a short time. She requires frequent-- but not constant--doting."

He was awfully quiet, and she flicked her glance up to him for a brief moment to see what he was up to. He seemed to be quite pointedly staring at the ceiling, and she wondered if there was a crawler or insect or something up there. No, he was probably just trying to focus on something other than the discomfort she was causing in his injured arm, and if she had had his attention, he would have seen the sympathy and apology written on her face. It was necessary pain, but it was pain nonetheless. She was just grateful that the wound did not look nearly as bad as it could have. For all that he kept using that arm, it was starting to heal.

She listened to his list of non-symptoms in relative silence, other than a small sigh of relief that she emitted upon learning of the lack of fever and dulling of pain. Perhaps there was some hope for his recovery, and she turned her face up toward him with a faint smile. Not that he saw, of course, if he was busy looking away. Fine, then. It was his loss. "I'm glad it's improving, though I'm tempted to offer to immobilize it if it would keep you from using it," she remarked dryly, only halfway teasing. "I know it's difficult to lose your dominant arm, but it's worth it to suffer with awkwardness for a few sevendays in order to get the good arm back much more quickly. I don't want you to hurt yourself further by using it too much."

She let his arm rest in his lap and dug through her bag to find her jar of aloe salve and rested that on the ground beside her before leaning in closer to examine the stitches. The wound was closing nicely enough that she thought removing the stitches would be of no hardship. There was a knot at each end of the wound with a running stitch between. She pondered for a moment how best to remove them and then moved to sit up on her heels. The bronzerider received another subdued sort of smile. "This may pull a bit, but, hopefully, it won't hurt. Just try not to move, and tell me if it hurts very badly, and I'll stop. Though... it shouldn't hurt." She was generous in smearing on the aloe salve and gently rubbed it in around and over the closing wound. Moist skin yielded less cracks and discomfort when pulled on, after all.

Task finished for the moment, Savitri withdrew the tiny sharp knife she kept for cutting delicate things. Of course, the entire knife was not even the length of her hand from wrist to the tip of her middle finger, and it was kept well-hidden in its sheathe... in her cleavage. It was usually not shown to the general public, but cutting the fine thread of the stitches would require a closer sort of cut, and she was loathe to take out the large knife in her boot that she used for... more practical things. Still, she looked up at Ka'rys' face before getting the knife anywhere close to him. "I'm not going to cut you, I promise. I'm just trying to get the stitches out." She would rather not take a knife to anywhere, thank you. And there was no telling how volatile he would be after that... disaster.

The knife neatly clipped the knot off the far end and then was tucked away again between her breasts. The knot came off easily, and Savitri carefully grasped the remaining knot between thumb and forefinger, her left hand cradling his wrist now for support and steadiness. Then she started to carefully, gently pull, and she was surprised at the ease with which the thread moved. Sure, the area would need more aloe afterwards, but at least his arm did not look quite as raw as she feared. That brightened her mood a little, even if he was being particularly uncommunicative. "How is it so far?" As if he would answer her...

[glamourie]

Not too serious a disturbance. Ka'rys glanced at Savitri and then downward toward his feet. He didn't believe that either. She was both an apprentice healer, and a weyrlingrider, but on top of those things, a gold weyrlingrider. Hepaticath was young enough to require near constant supervision, and when she wasn't in need, Savitri probably had better things to do than deal with his petty injuries. It wasn't like being in pain merited an immediate response. Or well, he didn't think it was that important - important enough to bother Savitri with. In part, he also didn't want to face her. She'd been so blatantly mad at him that he didn't want to deal with it at all. Nor was he anxious to face Ciceroth who seemed mad enough at him for upsetting her in the first place. Ka'rys thought it more logical not to disturb the healer. What would she have done if he hunted her down, anyway? Probably just scolded him and acted awkward. One awkward meeting was bad enough, and if he could have gotten away with it, he'd have gone to another healer to get the stitches yanked out and told them to tell Savitri that, too. Then she wouldn't have to deal with him at all -- since she surely didn't want to.

He decided not to give voice to any of that. It was easier to avoid looking at her, avoid speaking; maybe if he kept all of his thoughts to himself she'd buzz off. He didn't like the way he felt at all and it made him angry. He was used to floating through life without one extreme or the other and Savitri was disrupting that, whether she meant to or not. She made him feel guilty and unhappy. People disliking him normally didn't bother Ka'rys; he wasn't sure why Savitri did, but he didn't like the feeling, and Ka'rys was tempted to be deliberately malicious to her so that she didn't come around him again. If he ran her off then he wouldn't have to face those feelings he didn't understand very well. Guilt was a very ugly emotion.

"I'll try not to use it," he replied weakly, figuring that would be enough. He would try, he really would. It was hard, but he didn't want it immobilized; that would just be ridiculously embarrassing. Besides, he'd have to hunt down Savitri to get use of it again and he was hoping to avoid any more uncomfortable talks.

The aloe salve was cold enough that Ka'rys jumped slightly, unable to stop the instinctive reaction. Then his eyes dropped down to his arm, watching her work. As strange as it was, Ka'rys always liked watching the healers as they tended to him. It was one of his more weird traits. Just as he liked to watch himself bleed; it made him feel more alive. Was there something wrong with him, that his mind latched onto something so strange and dark as proof of life? Maybe. But blood was as human as it got. Dead bodies didn't bleed; they had no heart beat to pump the blood out. No pulse. No blood flow. He closed his eyes slightly, trying not to mentally picture blood coursing through veins. Not what he wanted to be thinking about as his stitches were being removed. Not at all. He felt the cold of the knife so close to his skin, not quite touching it, and felt his pulse quicken just slightly. So close to several places where he could be badly hurt. Ka'rys didn't like that, even if he did know it was necessary.

"Uh.. fine...?" The answer was awkward, and Ka'rys glanced up at Savitri before closing his eyes again. "You didn't have to - you know. I could've found someone else. Someone who isn't quite so annoyed by me." He wasn't trying to be difficult, but he figured pointing out to her that she didn't owe him anything was more along the lines of reasonable. He was trying to be anyway. "You don't have to be nice to me just for Hepaticath to be around Ciceroth. He's independent enough to do whatever he wants without me having much of a say -- you do know that, right?"

[kysseh]

Ka'rys' rather weak statement that he would not further use the arm was difficult to believe, given that he had been using it up until this point. That... and she had just witnessed him putting weight on it, so she was reluctant to think that he would behave from this point forward. If she had it her way, she'd immobilize the blasted thing and strap it against his torso, but... that would probably only result in whining from him, frustration from her, and quite a bit of glaring on both sides. And considering how awkward and odd this was already, she was loathe to add to it. Getting onto bad terms with people was not something she aspired toward. Granted, she did not usually make a lot of effort to really get onto good terms with someone if first meetings proved... difficult, but this put her in a rather unusual sort of spot. At their first meeting, they had parted on good terms. That would imply that effort could be put forward to some end. But... he had tried to reject it, claiming to not want her to be a liability. She was left confused and frustrated by the whole mess. This was not usually how things went.

It did not miss her attention that Ka'rys was startled by the application of the aloe salve, but ignoring it seemed like the best way to move forward. If she commented, it could be seen as her wanting to pick a fight, and that was, honestly, the lowest thing on her long, long list of priorities. She would rather not get into another verbal disagreement that ended in hurt or anger or any such negative emotion on both sides. It was a waste of time, not to mention it pained her to think of another such curt rejection. She felt his pulse jump beneath her fingers when the knot was sliced off, and she wondered if he was still worried about her hurting him. She frowned at that thought. He shouldn't. Her calling was to heal, not to hurt.

His answer indicated that he was paying little attention, which was rather irksome. She was trying to be courteous and considerate, and he was... not present. Oh, his body was present, all right, but his mind seemed to be somewhere far away, doing things that Savitri thought she would rather not be privy to. At least he looked at her for a moment before his eyes closed again, and she rolled her eyes in annoyance before carefully tugging out the last of the stitches, looking over the healing wound with some sense of contentment. The wound was doing nicely enough, and she set aside the discarded stitches and began to gently massage more of the aloe into the newly-healing skin. It might have bothered him a little, but she kept her touch as light as she could to avoid causing any additional discomfort. Men. Always insisting that everything was 'fine' when it wasn't. Honestly, couldn't they just tell the truth?!

His answer had her pausing and looking him in the face. She frowned , wondering what he was playing at at first until he tried to brush off her attempts at kindness with the dragons as an excuse. Her frown turned into a look of utter frustration. This was ridiculous. "I'm not that annoyed by you except when you're... being obstinate like this. I know I don't have to be nice to you for that reason. I wouldn't be trying to cultivate any sort of friendship if I didn't want to. It'd be ridiculous to do it just for the sake of Ciceroth and Hepaticath. They're intelligent enough to do what they want, regardless of us. I'm not caring out of obligation. I am because I want to." That was Savitri at her most eloquent, and it was.... not very eloquent, at that. She just tended to state things as she saw them, and that was the extent of it.

"Why are you so.... quiet today? Is that what's bothering you? It shouldn't be. Honestly, Ka'rys, if I didn't want to be kind to you, I wouldn't be," she said a bit dryly. It was sort of amusing how confused he was about things. Savitri did not make nice for any irrational reasons. She did because she wanted to, and that was that. How could he have thought otherwise?! Perhaps he was just used to people avoiding him or using him, which did not surprise her given his demeanor and birthplace. He did not exactly welcome everyone with open arms as she had found out rather... abruptly. Stupid, stupid man. Couldn't he see the obvious?!

[glamourie]

... Obstinate? He was trying to be cooperative. What more did she want? Ka'rys frowned and looked down, taking extra effort to ignore the sudden surge of worry and confusion he got from Ciceroth. It was probably not very kind to completely turn aside his dragon's concerns, but he was still very upset with the bronze, and he didn't want comfort. What he wanted was to be left alone. He'd be fine in a few days if he didn't have to think about it anymore. He assured himself of that quite neatly. No more stitches to look at and be reminded. He'd be fine, just fine - just - he needed time enough to turn off inside again, so that he felt better. To stop letting things get under his skin. How she'd managed to so quickly was beyond him but it was infuriating. Most people went Turns without knowing a thing about him and in only a few short meetings, the gold weyrlingrider had managed to unravel more than they ever did. Yes, Ka'rys was ever so... annoyed. And she called him obstinate. He was trying to do what she wanted. A fresh surge of anger flashed through him and he turned away quite pointedly, a scowl coloring his face.

"Obstinate. Obstinate. Obstinate indeed." There was no denying the annoyance in his voice, and he did not even bother to try to hide it. "Your friend insults me, I don't cut out his throat for it, and you get mad and say I disregard your feelings. You dismiss me as if my admitting to you something I wouldn't even tell Ciceroth is worthless, and you wonder why I am quiet. Obstinate. Obstinate. You say you want to care -- then why are you looking so hard for reasons to be mad? Obstinate, me? That word applies more to you. I am just trying to do what it is you want - the problem is you are never satisfied." He ignored the fact that he was visibly tensing, and definitely not meeting her eyes. "I stay and let you tend to a wound in front of someone who had every reason to want to kill me, rather than go find another healer, which I surely could have - I let you publicly insult me and then humiliate myself in front of your friend, you blow it off as if it's nothing and then - then you have the nerve to call me obstinate, and wonder why I think you're being kind to me only because of Ciceroth and Hepaticath? Why indeed?"

It took all of his self control not to turn and grab her by the shoulders, then shake her. As soon as his words were out, he regretted them; it was probably a bad mistake to even slightly show his temper, and he was sure Ciceroth would yell at him again, but how dare she just take everything he'd done as him being selfish. In his opinion, she was the one pointedly being selfish. He'd tried to make things better, he'd gone out on a limb for her and nothing - not even a slight hint of acknowledgment. Just the fact that she wanted him gone, then when he did leave, she acted surprised! Women. They made no sense! None! A person could act perfectly reasonable and they just assumed, automatically, that everything being done was some kind of attack or hurtful gesture. He hadn't done a thing for her to assume he'd completely disregarded her feelings and yet she did. She kept overlooking the fact that he'd just been fighting - so, no, he hadn't fallen on her in gratitude, but he'd admitted his reasons for rebuffing her slightly. Wasn't that good enough? No, nothing was good enough.

Sharding queenriders. The lot of them were all self-absorbed twits. He twitched, then went silent, visibly scowling. It was a definite unpleasant expression, but there was no denying the fact that it was genuine.

Ciceroth looked on, eyes whirling in curiosity, as if he was surprised. The bronze was not used to his throwing fits, even when he was younger. Yet that was undeniably a show of temper and... Ciceroth was relieved. He'd much rather Ka'rys be honest than bottle, though he was tempted to tell Hepaticath that the sting wasn't meant. The problem was, Ka'rys was hurt -- and he did mean to hurt Savitri with his statements. Ciceroth did not approve of that, but he did understand it. His was hurt, and scared; thus he was lashing out. It made perfect sense to Ciceroth, and even Ka'rys understood it on some level, which meant it couldn't be completely illogical behavior. Not completely. He didn't like being pushed away, or the fact that Ka'rys wasn't explaining things to him... but Ciceroth had Turns of practice in understanding his rider, and he put them to good use. He was not, by any means, out of the loop, no matter how much Ka'rys was trying to push him away.

[kysseh]

He had not responded immediately, so Savitri had continued to gently work the aloe into the fresh scar, though her light green eyes never left his face. Something was very awry, which she had noticed almost immediately but was now fully recognizing that it went deeper than she had thought. Apparently, he was not as unbothered by their disagreement as she had thought. Her brows drew together, and she was understandably a bit surprised when he suddenly turned away, scowling. Was he-

-oh, he was.

Her hands stopped moving, and she remained motionless, listening to his tirade more out of surprise than any real patience. He was right... shockingly. And mostly not-right, but he was right enough that she had to feel at least a little ashamed for believing him to be lying on all counts. He certainly wasn't now, as was evidenced by the very obviously negative expression on his face. It was the most real of any emotion she had seen from him, and that alone convinced her that his distress was genuine. Her hands remained still, one lightly grasping his rest, the other with fingers still splayed over his healing wound. What did one say in response to that? Was there an appropriate response?

She was upset; she was certain of that. He had not been especially considerate of her feelings, though it seemed that was more due to ignorance than lack of caring or insensitivity. Well... he was insensitive; he didn't get many points back for that. But... he certainly was held in higher regard than he had been, and she felt slightly guilty for having been so upset toward him when he had not completely earned it. She was still miffed... but not as much as she had been. She realized that she had been silent for far too long, and she looked up toward his face again, extending her arm to use the back of her hand to try to turn him toward her.

"Ka'rys...." Shardit, this was awkward. She sighed quietly and bit her lip. She was unsure... and she hated it. "I didn't ignore what you said. I heard it. I just... I haven't seen you ever showing a lot of feeling before, so I wasn't sure whether you were being genuine or... just trying to give me excuses. I thought it was just all about your pride and it being injured because of the situation." And she was not entirely wrong on that count, she thought, but that was not the point she tried to make. "I was making an effort to be kind to you too. I don't usually. It's just a waste of time, but... sometimes I really try. And I was making an effort to try, and you seemed more concerned with spiting Mutasim and I than acknowledging that I was trying to meet you halfway. I was pouring attention and effort onto someone who was completely disregarding it, and it hurt."

She made a slight face and sighed, shifting a bit to sit back on her heels. It was not the most coherent of explanations, but she was trying, at least. "You're obviously trying to be honest, so I owe you that much. I was not trying to be spiteful. I just... didn't know how to match what you said with what you were doing." She gave an apologetic sort of shrug, pursing her lips. "I'm not going to deny that I'm hard to please at times, but it isn't usually hard to satisfy me when it comes to conversation and feelings. Simple truth means more than anything else." She felt... naked, somehow. She was not averse to being honest, but being so honest about such private, personal feelings made her feel exposed. He had already stepped all over her feelings once, even unintentionally, and she was almost expecting that he try to do it again.

She glanced over at Ciceroth, noting that the dragon seemed surprised by the goings on... or looked sort of surprised, anyways. Maybe he was surprised that Ka'rys was admitting things... or that Ka'rys felt that way at all. She wasn't sure, but she was tired enough from such openness that she just sat in front of him, elbows resting on his knees, one hand still cradling his arm. This was frustrating. "I misunderstood. I'm sorry for that. But I'm not sorry for caring about my own feelings too." That was it. She was done. Unless he was willing to take one tiny step forward to rectify things, she didn't think she could tolerate the jerking around at the moment. Perhaps later. Not now.

[glamourie]

As soon as she began to speak, Ka'rys moved to pull his arm back - and then reconsidered; she didn't seem as if she was done and jerking his arm away could make things worse. His eyes dropped to the ground to avoid having to meet hers, which was a sure sign he was upset, and he crinkled his nose as she started to explain. His instinctive reaction was to continue ranting but he bit down on his tongue, enough to send shots of pain through him and keep him stabilized. Keep him from blowing up. She was trying, he supposed, and that was something, but like a typical goldrider, she wasn't seeing his point. Or maybe she just truly couldn't understand? He tried to be reasonable, tried to be fair; she apologized and he did, mentally, recognize it for what it was worth. It must have hurt her to actually say the words. The spiteful part of him wanted to ask if it did, but he knew that was not fair to her. He didn't know Savitri well enough to justify being truly mean, even if she had hurt him - had upset him enough that he wanted to run away and hide, or snarl and growl. Which... really, he was doing, wasn't he? At least on the inside?

"I disregarded nothing," he disagreed, giving her a steady stare at last. "I appreciated that you seemed worried. I just assumed you were only worried for Ciceroth's sake, and I was distracted by your friend insulting me. It's very hard to be friendly and kind when you're being insulted - and don't think for one minute he didn't know the depth of that remark when he said it. He knew exactly how vicious it was, and it took all my self-control not to throttle the life out of him for it." He wanted to add a childish remark at the end, but instead chose a more safe route, "I didn't ignore you; I just focused on the immediate threat. Self-preservation does come first for me, and if I'm being attacked, verbally or otherwise, I will respond to that before kindness. Go ahead. Call me selfish - or, as Hepaticath did - mean. Maybe it's even true. But I didn't ignore you and I wasn't disregarding your feelings."

Why was he so defensive? He wasn't sure entirely, though he mentally blamed it on Ciceroth. The dragon had gotten mad at him for upsetting Savitri - and clearly, she had just misunderstood. He was tempted to point out that not everything he did revolved around her in some way, but he had no way of saying it without being disproportionately rude, so he pushed it aside. Even if it would do her well to realize that the world did not revolve around her feelings, or the desire to make her happy, sad, or unhappy. Was she so self-absorbed to others? She hadn't seemed that way at first, but he was assuming she was, if she took his every action to be meaning to hurt her. Which was annoying. If he meant to hurt her, he wouldn't have tried to make it right. Didn't she see that? Didn't she see at all that if he'd ever intended to hurt her at all there would be no missing it? He had no problem responding to negativity (obviously). He had more trouble dealing with the positive.

"There's nothing wrong with caring about your own feelings, but I did not try to spite you in any way, and you should stop assuming everything I do is out to hurt you. When I'm trying to be mean, you'll know it. When I'm trying to be hurtful, it is obvious." He scowled and looked away. "I don't usually bother. There's very few people here worth actively hunting down to hurt or be cruel to, and that takes more energy than I am willing to muster up. You want honesty, fine - don't assume I'm trying to hurt you. I wasn't... although I admit, right now I wouldn't feel particularly sorry for you." There, honesty at its finest. He scowled again. "I don't usually bother speaking to people that I want to hurt. I avoid them completely. Like I have you the past few days. When I'm angry or upset with someone, I don't deal with them, I just skirt the issue. Notice how I never speak to the Weyrwoman if I can help it? There's a reason. Contrary to what you may think, I'm not a spiteful, cruel individual. I don't care what you've been told or assume. My vindictive streak is all or nothing, there is no in between - shard it, Ciceroth, STOP!"

The sudden outburst was directed with a turn of his head and Ciceroth recoiled; he'd been trying to convince Ka'rys to calm down, and the sudden shout at him surprised the bronze. His wings snapped to his sides and his eyes whirled meekly, as if he was genuinely stunned - again - at being yelled at. He didn't take any more kindly to it than Ka'rys did, but the bronzerider turned back to Savitri; he could deal with Ciceroth later and his bonded had more than earned that. "He keeps telling me to tell you what I think - then he gets upset when I do, and so do you. You can't have it both ways. You want honesty, you better be prepared to listen to it." He cast a glance at the bronze. "And you better be prepared to listen to Hepaticath complain if she doesn't like it - otherwise, stop telling me I need to be more open. That goes for both of you. If you don't like what you hear, stop asking to hear it."

[kysseh]

His continuous rant just shocked her, and Savitri had nothing that could possibly sum up the state of her mind. She was at first angry at him for jumping to such conclusions about her. He accused her of making assumptions of the worst of him, but was he doing any better, honestly? She was not assuming that everything he did was directed to hurt her. In fact, she gave him the benefit of the doubt more often than she should, she thought with a bit of bias. But... he had quite blatantly hurt her that time, and her facial expressions must have told him that. She, however, had nothing to go from. His expressions were rare and usually forced, as far as she could tell, so could he blame her for getting confused?

Then he yelled at Ciceroth, and she instinctively flinched and immediately cursed herself for it. His sudden fury was making her frightened, and she hated herself for it. He was male, larger than her--albeit not by a great deal--and dangerous, as she knew well. Fear was a natural response, minus the fact that she did not think he would actually do any damage to her. It was not that she trusted him; she just did not think he would do it. So, she waited silently, just sitting by his feet as he continued to rant and rave. And then he was finished, and she almost wished he would keep talking, mostly because... well, he was right.

She opened her mouth to respond and then shut it as words failed her, and she turned her gaze down to the wound in his arm as if that could solve the problem of the confusion she was feeling. She reached for a fresh roll of bandages and started re-wrap his arm in silence, letting her mind turn things over without interruption. He was right... right on many counts. She wanted honesty. She appreciated and almost demanded it at times, but this sort of honesty was cutting, hurtful... if only because it was both wrong and right. She was self-absorbed, she realized. She thought of her own feelings first, though she had to admit that her first concern had been for Mutasim when he had mouthed off like that. She had thought Ka'rys would snipe back at the very least. What had held him back, she wondered? Certainly not her presence. He had no problems displaying anger in her presence, even with Ciceroth nearby.

Poor Ciceroth...

She gave the bronze a sadly sympathetic look, feeling slightly ashamed at her inability to deal with the fact that he was right on many counts. She had made assumptions... and she had thought of herself first. If she didn't, though, no one else would, which left a bitter taste in her mouth. Honestly, she was surprised that she had survived childhood. If she had not begun to look out for herself, she would have fallen to the wayside and probably just disappeared the way that many neglected holdbrats did. Sad, but... true, unfortunately. Still, it was not an excuse to be as rude and selfish as she had been, and she made a mental note to learn from Cath's greater selflessness. The gold needed to be a better influence, and she currently was just touching on her rider's mind to soothe her that she was not alone... not unloved.

"Unfortunately, Ka'rys, you choose the worst times to be open." Her mind made up, the goldweyrling tipped her chin up to look at him. Her light green eyes were sorrowful, but the set of her chin betrayed the fact that she'd reached a verdict on the matter. And he probably wasn't going to like it. Her voice quavered as she continued, but her tone remained largely even otherwise, refusing to stop until she was done. "I jumped to conclusions about you, yes. You make me nervous, and you give me nothing in the way of body language to judge you by. So... I have to jump to conclusions about you, and in this case, I was wrong, and I'm sorry. But-" Oh, yes. There was always a 'but'. "-you also jumped to conclusions about me. I don't assume you're out to hurt me. I don't assume that you weren't merciful to Mutasim, and I'm grateful that you didn't... further hurt him. But I don't think you're cruel or sadistic or evil. I just can't figure out your meanings or your intentions, and it's unnerving. I assume the worst because it's the easiest way to avoid further damage."

She was merciless too, she noted, but she was too busy shoring up her own self-confidence to care much about that. He was not going to see reason, most likely, and that saddened her even more, a fact which made Hepaticath weakly try to convince her to return. That argument was silently brushed aside. She was going to finish this, and she finished bandaging his arm and then held up one finger to indicate that he be silent. "You're right, and I'm right. You're wrong, and I'm wrong, and that's all there is to it. I'd rather not continue to make assumptions, so if you could tell me what's supposed to be 'obvious' about your feelings, I'd appreciate it. I don't want this to happen again. It's hurtful to me, and it seems to be to you too. And to Ciseroth and Hepaticath," she said, and her tone was nowhere even close to accusatory. It just... was, the same way those facts stood. She could not change the hurt or the arguments. She could change, however, the flawed assumptions on both parts. "And I do appreciate your honesty. I just wish it'd come earlier to avoid.... this."

[glamourie]

Silence. Silence was all the response she offered; that and to wrap his arm. Ka'rys's scowl faded slightly and he looked down, watching Savitri, his heart still racing as the shock of what had just happened washed over him... and he secretively wished he could crawl behind Ciceroth and hide. He wasn't used to emotional outbursts of any kind, and that had been more than his share. He bit the sides of his tongue and he lifted his head to look, almost desperately, at the bronze... who simply snorted at him. No offered response aside from encouragement and... soothing; evidently his anger had spooked Ciss more than he realized. He frowned apologetically, then looked back at Savitri as she began to speak. He tensed again, but did not immediately respond or look away; most of him wanted to, but he was stubborn - or, as she'd put it, obstinate - enough to keep himself in check. No, he'd just completely gone off on her, she deserved the chance to say her peace uninterrupted, even if his natural instinct was to disagree with her. But was she wrong? Not entirely, no, but he could have pointed out that he hadn't assumed the worst about her until she'd given him a sharding good reason to. That would just be provocative and counter-productive, though, not to mention childish. He did want to understand what the problems were, why she kept assuming things about him, and thus he kept his ridiculous remarks to himself. His ego could shove it for the time being. He was sure he'd get a chance to redeem himself later. If it came down to it he could go to Selenitas Hold and talk to Shmee. She was bound to make him feel intelligent.

He did choose the worst times, he supposed, but it took a lot to pry any kind of information out of him. He didn't argue, because she was right on that front; instead he shrugged, as if to show her he'd heard. He wanted to add that he had jumped to conclusions about her primarily because of Hepaticath, but he thought better. It would probably offend Savitri, and he gained nothing by it - he wasn't about to make the fight worse by pointing out that Hepaticath upsetting Ciceroth had made things worse by tenfold, and he was sure she hadn't meant to. Ciceroth insisted she hadn't, and he trusted the bronze's judgment, especially about queens. Aslath had, surprisingly enough, made Ciceroth quite cynical about golds.

Unfortunately for Ka'rys, while he might have thought it proper to keep that bit to himself, Ciceroth didn't. I likely made things worse, he offered to the little gold, with no small amount of regret in his voice. I was angry with him for upsetting Yours and you - he always responds badly. I tried to apologize, but it is clear he is still displeased with me, and I believe his belief that Yours thinks he is horrible stems from me mentioning you said he was being mean to her. I am sorry.

Ka'rys mutely nodded, oblivious to Ciceroth talking to Hepaticath. He thought for a moment before looking down at his arm again. It was fairly clear he was trying to think, though what he was supposed to say, he wasn't sure. He was ... frightened of continuing; frightened of another long-winded rant. He wasn't even sure what had prompted the other one, but he didn't want to blow up again. It scared him; emotions of that level of complexity were so rare for him that he didn't know what to do. He took a deep breath, then glanced up at her, half-hesitant, as if he expected the ceiling of the weyr to cave in on him if he said anything. It may well have, but he tried anyway.

"You're supposed to realize that the only reason I didn't tell him off, or alert the candidate master, or anyone about what happened with Mutasim, was not out of courtesy to him, or soothing my pride - it was because he's your friend and it would have hurt you for him to get in trouble, or get hurt; it would have hurt you for us to keep arguing, so I didn't, even though I wanted to. You're supposed to recognize that I wouldn't be blowing up right now if I felt nothing," he said, disturbingly quiet. "You're supposed to realize that I don't waste my time with people I don't care about, and if I didn't care about you at all, I wouldn't have let you treat a wound that had me nervous in front of an enemy, or at all. And that if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't give you any reason to expect it. You wouldn't know it's coming. If you think I'm being mean -- it's probably not intentional. If I'm trying to be mean, I have no problem spitting it out. Talking about negative emotions has never bothered me very much." He glanced down at his arm again. "It's the positive I'm not used to. That's what you're supposed to get. I don't understand why you upset me this much, and I'm not sure I like it."

[kysseh]

Hepaticath was startled when Ciceroth spoke to her, mostly because she had been not-so-subtly 'listening in' on Savitri's thoughts and half of the highly-unstable conversation. She stirred on her couch, eyes whirling anxiously at the regret in Ciceroth's tone. No, he had done nothing wrong, had he?! I did not understand, like Mine did not. I should be apologizing to you and Yours. Please tell Yours that I am sorry. I truly thought he meant to make her sad. I did not know otherwise. Her tone was even quieter than usual, heavily apologetic. The little gold hated this fight very much. It made all four of those involved--and probably The Dangerous One--very upset, which was not good. But... Hers was starting to feel a little better, and that cheered Hepaticath a bit. Mine is glad that he is talking to her, though. She understands better now, I think. Not all the way, but better. She thinks yours is very, very... backwards? This time, she was more amused. SavitriHers' choice of words was.... so interesting at times.

He had at least looked at her for a bit, though Savitri was disappointed when he offered only a shrug to show that he heard and understood. His scowl was fading, though, and she considered that a good thing. He looked not nearly as angry as before, and she took that as a sign that he was mellowing out a little. That had been a spectacular little emotional explosion, and it had her wanting to retreat if he did that again. An angry Ka'rys was far more frightening than a madman with a knife... if only because she was not sure how many weapons he had hidden nearby. This was his weyr, after all, and who knew what was concealed around here?

He looked away... and then back at her again, and Savitri knew that something was coming. She was not expecting his quiet admission, though, and she was stunned at his confession that much of what he had done was out of concern or care for her. She wanted to be suspicious and disbelieve every word that came from his mouth. But... really, what good would it do for him to get into her good graces? Actually... he would earn himself a permanent healer--one of which he already had--and maternal figure--which he probably did not want. Thus, he earned nothing worthwhile by flattering, which meant that he probably was telling the truth, and her stomach made a curious flop at that realization. She was pleasantly surprised that her initial instincts for flattery were wrong.

His final admission had her smiling very faintly, and she broke his gaze to clean up her healing supplies and put them all away, confident that he was not needing of her skills any longer. Then she just set her bag aside and stayed seated at his feet in front of his chair, a self-recriminating smile on her face. "I'm not sure why you got to me so much either. I haven't cried in Turns. That was incredibly embarrassing." A mild understatement, to say the least. That had been humiliating beyond all measure. Savitri did not cry. Period. "I guess.... I guess I have to learn a lot, then, don't I?"

She shook her head, absentmindedly rubbing her scarred cheek with one aloe-softened hand. The excess salve had largely soaked into her own skin, and she ignored it for the most part. It softened up the skin as it was, and it could not do any harm, only good. Her mind was largely taken up with trying to figure out this... very odd man, and she shifted to sit cross-legged, staring bemusedly up at him. His oddness truly had her thrown for a loop, and she was trying to figure out how she was supposed to understand that he liked her... because he got angry. How... very strange, to say the least. "So... you don't show... positive emotions?" That was odd, right there, for multiple reasons that she did not want to consider. "But you show negative ones, but you only show them... to people you care about?"

It all made so little sense to her, though she was unquestionably delighted to know that the caring was... well, somewhat mutual. "You have a very odd way of showing that you care," she observed, though it wasn't an accusation so much as just a statement of fact. She idly wondered something and briefly debated whether to give voice to it, her wondering curiosity showing on her face. Hmmm... not now. Perhaps later... or some other time... she would ask. Instead, she settled for something more relevant. "So... ranting and angry is... upset? And... cold is... anger? spite?" Shards, but he was strange. Couldn't he just show what he was feeling and spare all of this silly... well, scrambling?! "What's happy?"