Cold shoulder [ Sym~ ]

[rii]

Come out.

Saboth crouched in front of the small entry, his multi-faceted eye peering in through the door. The only sign of a living being within was the lump beneath the furs piled in the middle of the bed. It didn't move. Two days prior his bonded had retired to his room to sleep off a mild headache and nausea. But the next day he did not rise, and when he did he ate very little and went back to sleep. And despite constant nagging, Saboth had been unsuccessful at convincing F'lix to go to the infirmary. So stubborn was His. It will go away, F'lix had assured him. Saboth had hoped, but now when he touched his bonded's mind all he found were half-formed thoughts, fuzzy and disoriented.

Most annoying of all, he couldn't reach F'lix to drag him to the infirmary. The opening was small, and Saboth could only stick his muzzle inside. He did this now, huffing irritable in the direction of the bed. Dust and papers whirled through the air with his warm breath. You either come out, or I'll find someone to fetch you. Saboth waited for a response before trying again. Perhaps I'll ask Inocenth's to come get you. Not even an answering growl to that threat. Saboth heaved a heavy breath before pulling his muzzle out of the door and walking over to the weyrledge.

Would someone please ask Theirs to come take Mine to the Infirmary? Mine is not responding, and I cannot reach him to bring him there. Ever polite and calm, Saboth sat on the ledge to wait for a response. He knew it would not be an easy task to find help. His was.. unfriendly with the others. Perhaps Saboth could find someone that F'lix had not turned away.. yet.

[glamourie]

The words reached Ciceroth, and he crooned absently. The pale, triple-colored bronze gave a bemused look up toward Saboth, so unlike Benden dragons in color, and he flicked his tail back and forth. The illness that was sweeping Selenitas had affected almost everyone – but RysHis, remarkably, was well. Somehow his immune system was strong enough to combat the disease. Apparently, someone else had fallen victim to the sweeping epidemic, though. Ciceroth stared upwards at the other beast from his ledge, shared with his golden mate, and his eyes whirled. His mind brushed Ka’rys’s, silently instructing him; his rider recoiled in agitation but did not otherwise protest (no doubt sensing that Ciceroth’s request was not without basis; even Ka’rys did not like to watch other people suffer). Once he was sure that the Junior Weyrleader would do as he asked, Ciceroth gave a louder trumpet, meant to get Saboth’s attention and make him come out to his sunning ledge. Given a choice, Ciceroth really preferred to see who he was talking to. It may have been an odd personal preference, but it was one just the same.

Rysmine will be coming to help Yours, Ciceroth explained, adjusting his weight. Hepaticath was out hunting while Hers slept, the two small hatchlings both asleep at the same time – miracle of miracles. His was very busy of late, with paperwork and trying to run the Weyr (“I’m not the sharding Weyrleader,” Ka’rys had complained on numerous occasions, to Ciceroth’s great amusement; he had no problem acting as Weyrleader with K’roi and Gareth being absent), and the new babies. For once he was free. Lucky for Saboth’s, too, otherwise Ka’rys likely would have let him stay there. He certainly wasn’t the most considerate of entities. Can you make sure to warn me, please, if Yours intends to do anything… rash? Rysmine is quite jumpy, and at times can be very quick to respond. Many do not know – well, it will be better if I can keep him in line.

‘Quick to respond’ was an understatement. Ka’rys was disgustingly fast. Only one or two people that he knew of trumped him in speed and both were smaller, so it was understandable. They were M’ta and Aliscia, and of them, the only one Ka’rys considered close to his equal in fighting prowess was the former. Aliscia had too big of a mouth, as most former Benden riders did; she was just a disaster looking for a place to happen.

The bronzerider was en route to the infirmary, which wasn’t terribly unusual of late. R’wign was a friend, and with him down with the illness burning through Selenitas, he found most of his hours not spent with his family were at the infirmary, discreetly. He had to make it seem like he wasn’t fussing over R’wign to avoid making certain other visitors too uncomfortable, but the truth was that he was worried. He was worried enough that he insisted on changing clothes before coming around the babies, insisted on taking scalding hot baths before coming within range of anyone outside of the infirmary, and flat out refused to let Savitri near their children if she didn’t do the same. He was not risking any of the babies catching the disease. He just wasn’t.

Ciceroth’s mental prod had him turning on his toe, bare feet moving soundlessly through the stone halls up toward the weyr specified by his dragon. He didn’t know whose weyr it was, but from the nervousness Ciceroth offered, he was betting it wasn’t anyone he liked. (That number was small, though, so it was more likely as not.) He slipped past the doorway and into the room as easily as he could, heading toward the lump in the bed (though he cast a respectful nod toward the dragon as he passed). One hand came up, and he rolled back the long gray sleeve of the ill-fitting shirt he wore to poke the lump roughly in the top.

“Wake up.”

[rii]

Saboth edged a little further onto his ledge and craned his neck down to view Ciceroth. He rumbled lowly in returned (Saboth rarely made any other vocal noise) a calm, appreciative roll of thunder that drifted down the cliffside to the bronze. Thank you. Saboth edged back and cleared a pathway to the door for when the bronzerider came. He laid his head against the floor, angling his eye to peer in through the opening to where the bed laid. Of course, Ciceroth. I appreciate Yours' help. Mine can be.. [/i] the correct word evaded Saboth, who didn't want to talk poorly of his rider. I think Mine is too ill to be of much trouble. As Ka'rys appeared, Saboth gave the man a soft rumbled -- much quieter than the one he gave Ciceroth -- like a gentle purr.

A voice.

F'lix eyes opened but only darkness filled his sights. He had heard a voice that didn't sound like the one in his head. That one tried to get him to do terrible things--like leave the comfort of his piled furs. They were so waaarm. A few of them were damaged, splashed with spots of ink and small holes torn through the hide. Compliments of the pesky salamandyrs. Awful little bugs. Someone needed to squish them. F'lix shivered and hugged the covers more tightly around his body. His mind danced with images of tiny little greens darting around his room, their speed even invaded his imaginary self trying to grasp at them.

Oh right, he had heard a new voice.

Mine's mind is foggy, I can't tell what is going on. He keeps repeating he's cold..

Reluctantly F'lix sat up, pushing the blankets aside to squint at the stranger next to his bed. Golden eyes appeared hazed over, long bangs frazzled and sticking to the sides of his face with sweat. Despite his long hours of rest the bluerider looked tired, paler than normal, and his eyes seemed not to really focus on Ka'rys in front of him. F'lix rose onto his knees and shifted over bedding to the man. And, ignoring any sign of protest, he twined his arms around the bronzerider and pulled him down into the bed. So waaaarm. F'lix threaded himself with the other, wanting to be close and soak up the other's body heat. At least he was still clothed in a shirt and pants, but where his skin did touch against Ka'rys's it would feel like fire. Especially his face, which he nuzzled against the side of Ka'rys face--and upon feeling the hard metallic stud in the man's ear, F'lix nipped at it. Hm, F'lix arms hugged appraisingly around the other man's torso, a bit smaller than his usual bed mate but he wasn't about to complain because the other was deliciously warm. No need to fuss about a good thing.

Purr prominent in his lowly spoken whisper, F'lix relaxed against the other. "Are you here to catch the darters.. ?"

[glamourie]

Ciceroth flicked his tail, amused shades whirling through his eyes. The bronze flicked his wings twice, before sitting up properly, his head turning up toward the other dragon. He was tempted to point out that Saboth’s was liable to annoy Ka’rysHis just by existing. He didn’t particularly like people, especially ones from Benden. There was no reason to say it, since… well, there was nothing that Saboth could do to fix the problem. He trusted RysHis to behave responsibly. Or, well, he trusted RysHis to not attack Saboth’s, though he was sure that he would end up on the end of his rider’s barbed tongue soon enough. Especially if Saboth’s was anywhere near as sick as most people with the disease seemed to be. He distinctly recalled Checkoth’s mumbling about someone hating him (what was hate? Humans were so odd) when he first got sick, and RysHis being so worried. He just hoped that Saboth’s wasn’t quite that sick yet. The more people lost, the worse things were for them. Gareth’s was very sick, after all…

As long as he doesn’t attack Rysmine, I think Rysmine will behave. I think. I hope. Ciceroth twitched his wings anxiously; he knew Ka’rys well enough that the hope of him not attacking someone else was the only thing he could offer. Behaving… well, at least Saboth’s was presumably sick enough to not realize how badly behaved his could be when dealing with people from Benden. How long has Yours been sick? It gets progressively worse. Checkoth’s was only sick for a day before he wasn’t able to stand anymore; Mine will need to know in order to let Phremath’s, Jingth’s, or SavitriCath’s when he gets them both to the infirmary. I will relay to him. Hepaticath’s had been spending too much time with the sickness, it was really upsetting. His wasn’t pushing her to stop, either, which bothered Ciceroth, though he didn’t push. “We don’t have enough healers,” Ka’rys insisted. Hmph. There were plenty of healers without SavitriCath’s getting herself sick too…

The explanation of ‘fuzzy minds’ confused him, but Ciceroth relayed it to Ka’rys and – received a hint of agitation in response; apparently, RysHis was aware of who he was helping at last. Ciceroth almost rumbled his amusement, but refrained out of nervousness. He wanted RysHis to help, not sulk and leave. That would be bad.

Ka’rys froze at being touched, his expression obviously frustrated. He stared off into space at the sudden feeling of arms around him and began to curse at Ciceroth mentally. He didn’t like people, period, but being latched onto by a Benden rider when he really had no use for Benden at all (and personally thought everyone from Benden would do well with a one-way ticket back home) was beyond frustrating. His dark brown eyes narrowed into slits and he dropped his gaze down to the top of the other man’s head. And if the clinging wasn’t bad enough – the biting at his ear was unacceptable. He growled low in his throat and forcefully pushed F’lix’s head away from his ear. A loud, exasperated sigh escaped him and he backed away, tugging –

“Uhm.” Darters? What darters? “No – Your dragon asked for someone to take you to the infirmary, and that’s what I intend to do. Now please stop… clinging to me and come along quietly…”

[rii]

That is not how Mine usually behaves. Saboth had the decency to sound embarrassed for his rider. He angled his head around to try and peer further into the room behind the small opening. After a moment he paced out to the ledge, peered down toward Ciceroth's perch, then returned to his starting position. Two days ago Mine came to sleep off a head pain. He has eaten little since, and today he started relating odd thoughts to me.. then he stopped responding to me completely.

Being pushed away did not deter F'lix from going right back to nuzzling Ka'rys. Such warmth, why would he not come under the covers? It was much warmer there. "Come back to bed." Yes, because really Ka'rys had been there all along and only now was trying to slip out from the furs. F'lix leaned in the opposite direction that the bronzerider tugged--arms now wrapped snugly around Ka'rys waist. Wait what was his bedmate talking about? Dragons and infirmaries, hmph--

--He suddenly released Ka'rys in the middle of the tug-o-war. He sat back on his heels and peered suspiciously at the other male. So he was conspiring with that voice in his head, and probably those pesky mandyr's as well. No no. F'lix did not want to leave the furs. Mine stopped talking to me when I tried to make him go the infirmary today. He behaves as if in a dream, but awake.. I'm not sure how to describe it. This is the first time Mine has gotten this kind of sick. Usually he is just hurt.

"You're with that snot-brat," F'lix crossed his arms low on his chest. "He insists on annoying me with his wounded pride, and you are helping him?" Such betrayal! "You would have done the same thing to him. Admit it." What, that boy liked to open his big mouth. F'lix merely tried to fill it with water to shut him up. Anyone would have done the same thing. "You can just go and tell him to stop his petty weyrling pranks before I hurt him. I'm not allowed to hurt people. But he cut me.. I feel I have the right to return the favor.. " F'lix began to extract himself from the furs.

Stop him Saboth expanded his conversation to include both Ka'rys and Ciceroth. He wants to get his daggers in the chest.

[glamourie]

The explanation that Saboth provided to Ciceroth was rapidly relayed to the bronzerider, who crinkled his nose in distaste. Whether or not the man – boy – whatever he was – behaved that way normally was irrelevant to Ka’rys; the fact was, he was being clung to, which was exceptionally frustrating. He didn’t really like being touched, or spoken to, or acknowledged in any way. Given a choice, he didn’t even like talking to anyone (other than his weyrmate). Ka’rys exhaled sharply and watched F’lix with an intense dark-brown eyed gaze, but the suggestion to ‘come back to bed’ made him want to bash his head off a wall. Back to bed. The only person he wanted to go back to bed with was Savitri because she made a most excellent pillow (cold toes be damned). Not this – this – grr. Ka’rys kept from twitching based on force of will and he carefully blanked his face as he tugged F’lix back toward the door – away from the bed, away –

Suspicious look. That was probably not good, though Ka’rys was pleased; at least if he was being suspicious, he wouldn’t be clinging to him all lovingly anymore. Pretty much anything was better than being latched to as if he was a lover. Ick.

“Snot-brat?” he echoed before he could help himself; who…? The only ‘snot’ Ka’rys knew of was R’wign and he was bedridden, sick enough to be – wait, did the same – what was he babbling? Nonsense, that’s what it was, and whoever he was babbling about was a weyrlingrider to boot. Why in the world would he get the impression that there was a single weyrlingrider around that Ka’rys gave two shells about? He didn’t even know half of their names (though comically, he could recall every single dragon’s name from the clutch that Ciceroth sired, due to his bronze’s pride). A weyrlingrider actually cut a full-fledged bluerider? Sounded to him like the bluerider had a problem with defending himself. Ka’rys kept that condescending thought to himself; the last thing he needed was to pick a fight. Then Ciceroth would be scolding him… again. He didn’t feel like listening to the lecture.

Voice in his mind – not Ciss – Ka’rys casually looped his arms around F’lix’s waist and forcibly pulled him away from the furs. He wasn’t the tallest or strongest, bronzerider on Pern but he wasn’t weak by any means. He was strong enough to dislodge the other man when he started to move, though whether or not he’d be able to hold him was another story. He wasn’t entirely sure of how to deal with a delusional bluerider (his mental reaction was to ‘put him down’ – it was a mercy killing!). At least it wasn’t one of the bigger blueriders running around. That would have been alarming. (He was actually holding F’lix with his own arms around the other man’s to prevent any kind of punching, though that left his legs open, not good, not good…)

“I’m not with this ‘snot-brat’ you mentioned, seeing as I don’t even know who ‘snot-brat’ is, but I’m sure he had whatever you did coming. That said, you’re sick, you need to be taken to the healers. If you don’t get treatment, then ‘snot-brat’ will be able to one-up you. You don’t want to face him when you’re not at your best, do you?” Ka’rys reasoned, hoping the logic would get through to the feverish man. If it didn’t, he was not above smacking him in the head with some kind of hard object to make a point. Unconscious, he’d be easy to transport to the infirmary. “Let me help you get ‘snot-brat’ back, hm?”

I told Rysmine what you said; I will relay the message to Phremath as well so that Hers can do something for Yours when Rysmine gets him there. Ciceroth shifted his weight, and then laid his head down on his claws casually. Who is ‘Snot-brat’? Rysmine would like to know. He thought perhaps you meant Checkoth’s, because Rysmine calls Checkoth’s ‘snot’ often, but Checkoth is not a weyrling anymore…

[rii]

Oh, he was on his feet. His vision slowly began to fade away to black, the room began to spin. F'lix attempted to reach out and steady himself but his arms didn't work. Strange, did he lose his arms in a fight? Unacceptable. How could he be so careless to lose such essential limbs? A cut or bruise here and there mattered little but two entire arms--oh wait--F'lix wiggled his fingers. There they were. Apparently the man thought to give him a hug and accidentally pinned his arms down. A joyful grin spread across his face. So silly. He couldn't hug back without the use of his arms!

Outside Saboth let out a slow, deep breath; a draconic form of sighing. It unnerved him to hear the bizzare thoughts going through his bonded's mind. So very unlike His. Hopefully when the sickness left it took the strangeness with it. Saboth may have to disown his bonded if he continued to act in such a manner. Ahth's, Saboth replied calmly, only to Ciceroth again, with a clear mental image of R'ahre, Sylph, and Ahth on the shore next to the river. He had an excellent memory--for certain things. Mine did not intend to harm, but he made sure to leave a.. bad impression. Mine prefers to be alone.

"Yeah.. sick.. that voice tells me the same thing," F'lix teetered back and forth, then made a point of leaning on the warm bronzerider to keep balanced. The grin disappeared and he gave Ka'rys a frank stare--from about an inch away too. "You know how I got sick? I got bit." He nodded gravely with the information. The bluerider tried to lift a hand to move his shirt in order to display the bite mark, buuut it was still pinned to his side. "I don't want to face snot-brat at all. He'll get hurt and wah-wah-wah.. then I'll be the one in trouble. UNLESS--"

F'lix tried to straighten his stance, but the arms around him made it difficult so he wound up leaning back on Ka'rys, nearly knocking his head against the bronzerider's. "You are going to help me?" He squinted. "Sure. Let's hear it."

Ahth's sent two of the little ones to mess up Mine's room. I find it pointless. Saboth scooted away from the doorway to make room when the two riders would exit. He planned to help move his bonded to the infirmary to the best of his ability. Ahth needs to stop. The end is always the same. People will get hurt. I do not wish that to happen.

[glamourie]

Uhhh. Ka’rys winced, trying not to look too put off by the almost idiotic grin on the other man’s face. It was so – so – weird. He settled for keeping his face blank as what’s-his-face (Ka’rys couldn’t recall the name) babbled on about ‘the voice.’ Had he really forgotten that he was a dragonrider and that the voice he kept hearing belonged to his mindmate? No matter how sick he became, he was never that far gone. Then again, Ka’rys’s mental connection to Ciceroth was rivaled by very little: he was so in tune with his dragon that much of the time, he was influenced, however subtly, by the beast’s emotions. When Ciceroth became angry or upset, he was nearly impossible to deal with. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t comment; the bronzerider’s attention was instead quickly stolen by the rest of the explanation, which made him want to laugh at how ludicrous it was. While being bitten did have a risk of making someone sick, surely the man realized – no. He was too sick to realize how ridiculous he sounded, and Ka’rys decided that trying to explain it was not in his best interest.

“You got bitten by whom?” he asked, though he suspected he knew the answer, given the context that it was brought up in. Ka’rys was carefully edging toward the door, tugging F’lix with him as he went, and he cast a curious glance toward the dragon in silent pleading; surely he could make this man stop being so… so… unusual. Even the mental reassurance that this was not normal behavior did nothing to assuage Ka’rys. He was just about to mentally beg his dragon to do something, anything, when a question was posed to him that made Ka’rys actually blink twice. Help… plot revenge… against ‘snot-brat.’ He didn’t even know ‘snot-brat’ though he supposed nothing really came of it… delusional as he was, he probably wouldn’t remember anything –

“First tell me what happened to make you dislike ‘snot-brat’ so much. I need to know the scale of what sort of revenge to be plotting, you see. Is this a minor transgression or something that I should be considering yanking his fingernails off for? Detail it as we walk; we don’t want ‘snot brat’ catching you at a weak moment, after all.”

It was a comment directly intended to appeal to northern paranoia. When he was sick, he hid away from everyone with an excess of knives around, just in case, but Ka’rys was paranoid even by northern standards. He was hoping against hope that the bluerider was at least normal in that regard and would therefore allow himself to be tugged along. The sooner he got the other man to the infirmary, the sooner he could leave. His priority was not getting sick… or groped, or anything else strange… before all else.

Perhaps Yours should apologize. It was a lofty suggestion; not that he thought Saboth’s was sorry, but because Ciceroth tended to be a creature of logic before pride. If apologizing got rid of the annoyance, it didn’t matter whether the apology was genuine or not. Practicality dictated that honesty didn’t matter if dishonesty got the wanted results. That way Ahth’s and the little ones will not feel so inclined to bother him. As it stands, as long as Yours reacts, I do not foresee Ahth’s stopping – I do not believe mine would in such a situation. Deliberately provoking someone is only rewarding so long as they respond. Yours falls into the same trap that Rysmine falls into. Ciceroth paused, and then rumbled. Being unkind at Selenitas in attempts to chase people away frequently backfires.

[rii]

"That Fortian." F'lix again nodded in an exaggerated matter, expression dire. Not just a Fortian, but one in particular. There was only one that got to be referred to as that Fortian. It had been him. It should be a well known fact that Fort and Benden don't mix. They were completely different, probably bled different colors. So getting bit by one or the other could only end up in sickness. "Am I going to die because of him biting me?"

He tried to walk but being held in the strange fashion made it near impossible. His feet shuffled, his body teetered off balanced and once or twice he stepped on Ka'rys's foot. They were making very slow progress toward the door. Revenge, right. F'lix screwed his face up as he thought over what he wanted and what he could get away with. "No no, not maiming. I can do that well enough on my own. I'm just not allowed to do that. He just needs to be taught a lesson.. mouthy weyrlings that purposely look for trouble need to be taught better. All I hurt was his feelings, and he tried to gut me. If the boy wants to play with weapons, he should know that drawing a blade is giving away the permission to be killed. But.. " F'lix distractedly waved his hand--down by his waist where it was trapped. "Can't teach that lesson with Benden methods, not here. You know he tried to get it through to me that he use to be from Benden? Did he think I'd be his friend or something? Makes me like him even less.. and don't worry, he's not going to catch me anywhere. Too much of a talker. Instead he sends his little lizards to do his bidding."

And then it happened, F'lix uneven shuffles got tangled with Ka'rys's feet and his weight pitched to the side with the state of unbalance. Oof. Hello floor. F'lix blinked from his position on his back, head tilted back and gaze staring at the dragon head just outside of the door.

If only I could make Mine listen to that line of reasoning, things would not be so difficult. Saboth rumbled lightly at the two humans before retracting his muzzle. They were nearly to the door, but still out of his reach. Humans have a saying: An eye for an eye. As long they bother Mine, Mine will return the gesture because to him it is /fair/. But I will suggest apologizing to Mine when he is well, maybe he will listen. Saboth already knew F'lix would revolt against such idea. They were sorry about nothing concerning that situation. Maybe regret giving the weyrling so many chances to shut up and leave before knocking him into the river.

[glamourie]

What Fortian? There were a few at Selenitas… Emoyan, T’san, himself, F’ur, Juliya, to name a few. Who, exactly, did he mean? Of them, Emoyan and Juliya were unlikely to ever bite someone (okay, he could picture the greenrider biting someone on the shoulder if she felt cornered, but that was the only instance) so that left… T’san and F’ur? Both of them seemed a little off (Ka’rys avoided F’ur like the plague on account of knowing the man’s ‘preferences’ from when they were at Fort together) but he had trouble imagining either of them biting like some kind of rabid animal. The former Benden rider said ‘him’ though, which instantly disqualified Juliya and left… yes, F’ur and T’san. A fight, then? Somehow? Where would they have bitten him in a fight? (His mind supplied a rather helpful image of F’ur latching onto someone’s ankle growling – which almost brought a smile to Ka’rys’s face.) Well, either way, it was unlikely that being bitten resulted in the fever – not with the plague floating around as it was.

As far as Ka’rys was concerned, Benden’s “lessons” weren’t worth a damn, though. Why was it that Benden people, past and present, always fought amongst themselves? Even though he didn’t like most of the Fort riders, he had no active problems with them. He liked Emoyan, he was okay with T’san and Juliya, F’ur was fine so long as he stayed far away. Benden riders on the other hand seemed very inclined to just go for the throat of one another on sight, no sense of loyalty or understanding – and then they wondered why Fort considered themselves superior. Even people from Fort, who he absolutely hated, Ka’rys would have died for once upon a time. It was an attitude he’d adopted at Selenitas as well. In a war, killing one’s own was beyond suicidal – it was a sign of poor leadership. Yes, Ka’rys thought Benden had poor leadership… and Fort was falling into the same trap with R’anatar. It was a good thing he was not there. Really.

He was just about to point out that underestimating anyone was foolish, when F’lix’s feet tangled with his and Ka’rys unceremoniously tumbled to the floor directly opposite the bluerider, his elbows hitting the ground rough enough to make a loud clack; the pain that jolted from them was enough to make him twitch visibly.

“Ugh.” His hand came up to rub his face, before Ka’rys pushed himself to his feet and held one hand out for F’lix. This man was turning out to be too much trouble. Much, much too much trouble. “Odds are, he thought you’d respect him more for being from Benden and – oh, I don’t know. I don’t pretend to understand the way that Benden riders work. As far as I’m concerned, Benden makes no sense and follows no reasonable course of logic. Let’s get you to the infirmary, then we can plot against the lizards and the ‘snot-brat.’ I have a firelizard, she might be willing to drop them in the river or something like that.” Actually Ophelie would probably refuse, but he wasn’t going to point that out, because honestly, the bluerider was being weird enough as it was.

Humans have another phrase that goes with that one – ‘An eye for an eye only leads to more blindness.’ Yours provokes back, it will be an endless array of fits between them. Expecting Ahth and His to back off is not fair – they are children. You and Yours are not. It wasn’t accusing to Saboth, nor intended to be an insult to his rider, though logically it could be taken that way. Rather, Ciceroth thought that the blue and his rider should grow up and leave the weyrling alone. Expecting a hatchling, barely broken shell, to back off of something before the adult was not only unreasonable, but silly to boot. And Ahth’s was as much a child as any in Ciceroth’s eyes, because Ahth himself was a hatchling. Simple logic.

[rii]

F'lix pushed himself up and folded into a crossed-legged sitting position on the floor. He hugged his arms around his chest to fight of the sudden chill running down his spine. So cold, why had they left the furs again? F'lix pondered this while staring at the offering hand held down to him. He looked for all the world to not recognize the gesture. Tired, head hurt, cold. Golden eyes again narrowed in suspicion as he regarded Ka'rys.

How could the other think Benden made no sense? Benden made more sense than any other Weyr! Because, boiled down, people were just animals. They all could dress it up all they wanted, lie about it, twist the image, but in the end everyone acted off of an inner nature. A very primal set of needs laid the foundations to behavior. The disgusting truth revealed, people were monsters and of the worst kind because they had a conscious. Strip away the farce that everyone put on and there was Benden. Everyone else hid, but Benden didn't bother. The biggest, baddest alpha wolf won and the rest either followed or got kicked out from the pack.

F'lix raised both of his hands, changing them into a mimickery of animal puppets. He pantomimed the left and right growling and snipping at each other. Didn't the other see? This was Benden. A pack of animals. What worked for nature worked for them as well. Others just thought it so barbaric and pointless! Bah, deny the truth all they wanted. Every single person, the very core of their actions, bore that primal behavior. Lie. Lie. Lie. The left hand won the fight, and the right submitted itself to the left's greater show of power. He blinked up at Ka'rys.

Outside, Saboth's tail twitched, the only hint of his annoyance. This I already know, Ciceroth. Always calm. Saboth laid down, folding his claws in front of him while he patiently waited for the two humans to come out the door. He didn't care much for the conversation. The blue did not want to be lectured about his rider, because he knew His better than anyone else. He knew how F'lix would see the situation: if the bronzepair wanted to turn a blind eye to hatchlings and weyrlings and allow them to run around unchecked with no discipline, that was unacceptable. The blue pair, however, believed that youth needed to be taught. Not ignored and their antics tolerated just because they were young. Oh hm, didn't they have a weyrling master. Yes, he should make a suggestion to his rider later. A faint sigh carried with Saboth's words. What my rider thinks and does, is very different than what I think and suggest is better for him. I know he is being unreasonable, but he is still Mine.

F'lix has risen to his feet, not using Ka'rys offered hand, and on unsteady feet he walked toward the doorway. He placed a hand against the stone and peered out at his dragon. Hm.. warm? He stumbled over to Saboth and leaned his profile against Saboth's body. F'lix smiled, much better. Saboth rumbled lowly and gently pried the rider away by the shirt and attempted to lead him toward the stairs.

[glamourie]

Um – hand gestures? Ka’rys blinked twice, blatantly confused, and cocked his head to the side. The finger-puppets were confusing, primarily because he didn’t understand the purpose of them, and his mind brushed Ciceroth’s for clarification. Of course, the attempt at silently asking a dragon to explain a solely human gesture was comical and the beast had no answer except “He’s human, none of you make sense” in far less words. The answer came more as a subtle brush through his mind, like silky laughter, than concretely formed words, but actual talking between the bronzepair wasn’t terribly common. Ciceroth and Ka’rys could read one another extraordinarily well and did not have need of words to express their feelings most of the time. The silent mockery he received made Ka’rys roll his eyes, obviously less-than-impressed by his winged half, though he didn’t say anything out loud. Talking to Ciceroth in front of other people always struck him as weird, like he was excluding everyone from the conversation, when it was out loud. Mental was another story. But – the delusional bluerider was a lot more attention-stealing than his mindmate was at that moment.

“Take my hand,” he said softly, blinking; he’d decided to give up trying to figure out the purpose of the hand gestures and instead gently put his own on F’lix’s upper arms to tug him up toward his feet. “Let’s get you to the infirmary. Please come with me. You’re sick – you’ll feel better in the infirmary. It’s warmer there, and smells better, and ‘snot-brat’ and his little pets won’t go there. Kalierre’s pet, Lust, won’t let anyone else come in. Okay?” Ironically, for someone who didn’t like salamandyrs, Ka’rys was quite fond of Lust. He felt protective of the salamandyr, after taking a swan dive off the burning infirmary with him and his little green mate on his head. Not that he expected either Vanity or Lust remembered that, but he still felt protective of them – they were in his mind as his. Not as much as Merce or Ophelie, but still his.

There was some truth to his words though. From what he heard, Lust was quite territorial of the infirmary, not unlike his human (who Ka’rys detested, and was going to get an unholy joy out of throwing the delusional bluerider at once they reached the infirmary). Ka’rys had little doubt that the bronze salamandyr would be furious at anything else (regardless of species) trying to invade his infirmary to bother the patients. That sort of thing seemed to irritate Kalierre immensely, and logic dictated that if she was annoyed, so too would her salamandyr be.

His rider’s thoughts, coupled with Saboth’s words, gave Ciceroth an idea. The bronze dragon leapt from his weyrledge, throwing himself onto his wings, and glided up the canyon. The queen’s weyrs were near the bottom, and as he was Hepaticath’s weyrmate, he always slept on her couch with her. The ascent up to the small singles was quick, and he landed with ridiculous ease on the edge of Saboth’s weyr, his abnormally large wings spreading out around him to balance himself out. It didn’t occur to him to ask if Saboth minded him perching there. His head swiveled around to get a look at the riders (he wanted to keep Ka’rys in his line of sight) before he turned to nose Saboth in the side lightly. The devious whirl of multifaceted eyes was clear indication that what he was up to was not to be trusted.

Come, he said to Saboth, and then leapt off the ledge again. I have an idea for how to make Ahth’s leave Yours alone, without Yours having to harm him. Mine will take Yours to the infirmary, and that is where we are going as well, so you will be able to see him when they arrive. Sweeping along the edge of the canyon wall, Ciceroth turned, gliding high above the river tearing down below, before coming to land neatly on the edge of the infirmary ledge. It was large enough to host at least three fully grown queens, and Checkoth was inside; there was more than enough room for him and Saboth on the ledge. His mind reached out to brush and then he spoke, Phremath, are you available…?

[rii]

Saboth released F'lix shirt, gave his mindmate a gentle nudge and waited until the two humans had reached the stairs. Only then did he move out to the very edge and dive down to follow Ciceroth's path. He quickly caught up with the large bronze, landing neatly after him. Saboth arched his neck, his nose poking curiously toward the infirmary--such a familiar place. But the smell, the death laying like a fog over the area made the blue scoot back until he perched at the furthest edge.

F'lix had grown oddly quiet during his forced shuffle toward the stairs. The big ol'blue had shunned him away from the warmth too, which made F'lix frown. Why did he have to go anywhere again? He had been content in his room. Walking took far too much effort. Made his head hurt. F'lix veered, knocking into Ka'rys before jerking away. He stilled with one hand pressing against the wall nearby. The bluerider began to sink down, crouching on his heels while his free hand came up to cover his face. The long strands of raven black hair hid his expression from view, but he was grimacing.

"Kalierre?" Name almost had a familiar ring. And somehow the word Lust seemed fitting alongside it. Strange. Speaking of names, F'lix turned his head to curiously regard Ka'rys. "Who are you?" Being led out of his room by strangers, how foolish. Probably thought to push him off the nearest ledge. F'lix slumped down to sit heavily on a stone step. There, ha, not so easy to push him off a cliff now. "Why are you being nice. People are not nice to me, I make sure of that. Very distrustful that you are.."

But he was too tired to fight off any attacker. How pitiful. Groan. "Is it too much to ask for people to just leave me alone? I'm not bothering anyone.." He really didn't. Just did his assigned duties, ate a bit of food, slept and tried to steer well away from people at all times. Socializing took too much effort lying all the time. False smiles, fake interest, biting tongues and sugar-coating half-truths. Oh how he loathed people. "They just always seek me out. I don't look for trouble, eh.."

[Requiem]

Pretty beads. Pretty beads. (They weren't really beads. Rather, medium-large boulders with semi-precious strains that had caught her attention while trying to catch the sneaky flutters.) Rolling one over into the very neat pile the green was constructing with her snout, she ignored the smells and sounds. The weariness that was as much emotional as physical that had become a constant backdrop in her mind. Phremath had long ago learned that it was better for Hers if she didn't try to help, didn't comment, just...did what she did best. Play. So, for Hers, she played with her pretty boulders and didn't dwell on the screams of leaving dragons or the bodies borne from the infirmary.

There was nothing she could do to stop it anyway. So very sad.

Phremath was just finishing with the last of her beads when Ciceroth brushed against her mind, the green jumping and causing all the rocks to clatter. She squeaked, the flutter of wings causing an audible whir. Surprised and delighted (for she rather liked the cuddly bronze, even if he was a bronze and therefore scary) the green scrambled over her beads.

Somewhere across the infirmary, Kalierre pushed the hair from her face, helping settle one of the patients after bathing him. They were so shorthanded that she was back to doing things she hadn't for turns. Changing out bedding, chamberpots, bathing and feeding patients...in addition to treatments. Weary, oh so weary, and a new concern spiked. Don't tell me Ka'rys is ill, too. We just lost K'roi. Much as she didn't care for K'arys much, having both weyrleaders dead or out of commission wasn't at all good.

Phremath faltered. She hadn't thought of that! It made sense though, since Ciceroth didn't usually come by here. Phremath stuck her nose out of the dragon part of the infirmary, peeking to see. He hadn't sounded distressed...and look, just as shiny as normal! I don't think so. He didn't sound upset. But it would be best to find out directly, wouldn't it?

The little green skittered out onto the landing platform, wings fluttering in either nervousness or excitement...even she couldn't always tell for sure. Phremath pounced Ciceroth, since he'd come without his rider, the half-tackle turned into a snuggle as she greeted him with a welcoming croon. Yes, yes, quite available. Pulling back, her eyes shifted into more anxious hues. It is not Yours or Hepaticath's, is it? They cannot be sick too. So many sick. Say they aren't! You do not come here so often, you don't.

[glamourie]

Turning his head to croon at Saboth, Ciceroth shuffled on the weyrledge. His tail swung around to curl against his legs and he fluttered his wings slightly. His perching was decidedly feline, complete with one of his front legs lifted off the ground and his whirling gaze remained snared on the ledge where he’d left Ka’rys and Saboth’s when Phremath literally pounced him. Not that she could knock him over (she was tiny and he was decidedly not), but the impact was enough to make him swivel his head around and nose at the little green affectionately. One wing spread out over her in an almost protective show of affection and he crooned. That single sound was meant to be reassuring; poor Phremath, Hers was so over-worked, she must have been terribly stressed out. He brushed his head against hers, before resting it on her back, square between the green’s wings. The movement required him to settle down closer to the ground to make it comfortable, but Ciceroth had no problem doing so, even going so far as to curl around the small green. He’d semi-adopted Phremath, as she was viewed as little more than a hatchling in his mind most of the time – to be protected.

Rysmine and SavitriCath’s are both healthy, Phremath, Ciceroth offered softly, though he nudged her lightly. I thank you for your concern, but really they are fine. So are their littles. That’s not why I’ve come. I was wondering whether or not KalierreYours would object to a weyrling being assigned triple chores, with the infirmary as his secondary placement? Evidently Ahth’s has a habit of getting into trouble, and he is causing Saboth and His – Ciceroth turned to look at Saboth, speaking so that the blue could hear him as he addressed the green, – a great deal of irritation. His chores obviously do not fill his time, and perhaps he would be better suited to the infirmary when Yours needs more help, with most of her healers sick. Would you mind asking her whether or not she’d oppose Ahth’s being assigned here? Saboth could comment at any time, but he wanted the blue to hear his plan – if he knew, maybe he would be able to calm His down once he was well. If Ahth’s was busy scrubbing bedpans, he would not be busy bothering Saboth’s… right? And Ciceroth trusted that Phremath’s could keep any misbehaving bluerider in check.

Oh, for the love of Faranth – he was sitting! Ka’rys smacked himself in the forehead and moved to rub the backs of his eyes before crouching down in front of F’lix. His hands rested on his knees and he arched an eyebrow inquisitively before nodding in the direction of the infirmary. Ciceroth and Saboth were plainly visible from the ledge, though the distance made them look smaller and less imposing. Ciceroth was normally quite the sight to behold, too, seeing as he was one of the largest bronzes on Pern (it really was a toss-up between him and Salenth for who was the biggest of their color, with Morsrath out of the picture). Once he was sure that F’lix saw what he was indicating, he turned to look back at the bluerider with a very stern expression.

“I don’t like you. I don’t particularly care about you. I’m not doing this to be nice to you,” he said. Brutal honesty, thy name was Ka’rys. “Your dragon asked for help for you, because he likes you, and he cares about you. I came because you’re a Selenitas rider, regardless of my feelings on you as a person, and all of Selenitas riders are mine to protect and help. I’m not just going to watch as you waste away. I don’t have to like you to want you to live.” He held out his hand again, beckoning F’lix to take it. Maybe his bedside manner needed some work, but it was truthful, though his voice held no poison – it wasn’t really personal. Ka’rys didn’t like former Benden riders, but it wasn’t specific to F’lix in any way; he just couldn’t change what was drilled into his mind from the time of him being a very small child. That didn’t mean he wished ill on any of them, though.

“And to answer your question – Ka’rys.” He didn’t offer his title. There was no reason to. It sounded like ‘bragging’ and frankly Ka’rys took no pride in titles or rank, most of which he earned by virtue of being a bronzerider and not on his own merit. He took more pride in his own skills and talents, but none of those were anything he would brag about. The element of surprise was his best ally. “Now let’s get you to the infirmary, so you can get well and I can go back to my paperwork….”

Amused by his rider, Ciceroth snorted. He loftily added, Saboth’s is ill, Phremath; Mine brings his to Yours for treatment. Or, rather, he is trying… But not having much luck, comically enough. Poor Ka’rys.