Bedside Manner? Right….(Chores Open)

[Rei]

Mask sat outside the entrance to the weyr, decidedly pissed off. His was forced to be in there with all those people. She hated it and they where rude to her and there was nothing he could do about it. Those big ugly winged monstrosities would not let him in. Hissing again at a couple of the dragons he growled low in his throat and heaved himself to his feet to pace.

Malara was aware of Mask’s pacing but there was nothing she could do about it. He was angry and probably with good reason. This was the stupidest thing they could have asked her to do. Stomping to the rider’s cot the wherhandler gave him a fierce glare. If you don’t take this fellis I will shove it down your throat I swear, is what she wanted to say. Instead she offered it to him with a scowl. “Here take this.”

Onyx was the only one pleased with the situation. There where so many people to bite. Even better when they where passed out from pain or fellis they didn’t try to hit him for biting and he could sample as many as he wanted. Yes he was quite happy with the arrangement. Even now Malara could hear him a few cots away where he was enjoying himself quite immensely. Bleed you. Eat me. Yum. Red taste good.

Sighing deeply Malara tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the man to drain the cup. When she had been assigned these stupid chores they had said to use a bedside manner. Bedside manner? Yeah right ok. She’d get right on that.

[kysseh]

"Next time, try 'take the fellis before I sic the junior weyrwoman on you.' It's a valid threat."

Aliscia, giving a drink of water to the patient in the next cot, had been witness to the young wherhandler's rather stilted interaction with the poor patient. The greenrider was wounded herself, albeit not badly enough to be immobile. Her near-gold eyes flicked from the wherhandler back to her own patient, waiting for the man to painfully sip down the last of the water. A cloth in her free hand dabbed lightly at the man's chin to get rid of the spilled drops. Pain made for poor coordination.

"Let me know if you need more," she informed the bedridden man before straightening to stand at her not-so-impressive height. The wherhandler was quite amusing. If Aliscia had not been in pain herself and worried sick about her two babies, sleeping away in Savitri's weyr, she might have taken the time to follow the girl, just to watch how poor her bedside manner continued to be. As it was, she was just amused at the girl's inability to use threats when they were proper.

Outside, sprawled out on the riverbank, Tanith gave a quiet snort and turned to eye the pacing blue wher. Funny little creature, that one. She wondered if it was good for fighting. The girl looks to this irritable blue wingless thing. Or... mostly-wingless. I doubt those little appendages are good for much of anything. the green commented almost lazily to hers, one whirling eye fixated on the creature. Nasty little thing, wasn't it?

No fights, Tanny. the greenrider warned her dragon silently, gracing the wherhandler with a humorless sort of smile. "Not your kind of job, is it? If you appeal to one of the healers, maybe they can assign you to something else. Not that grinding herbs for salve is much preferable to this." Aliscia hated grinding. She had opted to deal with the patients instead, and now she was glad for it. The wherhandler was going to be endlessly amusing.

[Rei]

Malara raised her eyebrow at the woman across from her. “Really now is she really that horrible? I have never met her.” Turning her attention back to the patient she snatched the cup back as he finished. Brushing her shirt off she sighed. “Really I don’t know why they assign us what we’re the worst at.”

Flipping her blonde hair, more a habit than anything else, she turned back to Aliscia. “Truthfully I would rather do this than have to bathe people, or clean chamber pots. The candidates normally do that horrid stuff. Which I’m infinitely glad for.” Malara placed the empty cup on a tray and looked around the weyr. Mostly everyone was sleeping and no one was calling for assistance at the moment.

Mask paused when he saw the winged one staring. His lip curled up into a snarl. Mask had no use for dragons. He detested them actually. They thought they where so far above everything. A stomp and he renewed his pacing growling low in his throat. Rustling in the underbrush drew the blue’s attention and he began to stalk that way, careful to avoid detection. A sharp command from his had him hissing in irritation before backing away from the bush with a loud snarl.

Malara cocked her head and scowled. “Mask seems to think anything approaching the weyr is a possible threat. If I don’t keep an eye on him he is likely to injure someone out of spite. He hates the fact that I’m cooped up in here.” Suddenly she flinched and the reason for the movement became apparent a few seconds later, as the near black Onyx scrambled to her shoulder.

The mandyr frilled at the green rider and flicked his tongue once. Yum. No thirsty me. Looooooove mine. Cocking his head he regarded Aliscia for a moment. You red leak? Malara resisted the urge to flick the creature and settled for a glare. “You could be more gentle you little demon. I swear I‘ll trim your nails again if you don‘t.” No trim! Nonononononono.