Thunderclaps and Tunnelsnakes
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Hunter, Shawna
Date Posted: 30th May 2025
Characters: Xu'ma, N'kevyn
Description: Xu'ma treats Avicath’s Threadscore injury
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 8, day 23 of Turn 12
Notes: Threadfall over Barrier Lake Weyrhold territory (1730-2130). This is also Xu'ma's introduction post
Mentor Approved by Heather
The sky was still bleeding ash after a Threadfall lasting late into the evening when Vuth dropped into the Weyrbowl like a thunderclap, his vast indigo wings kicking up a roiling cloud of soot and dust that sent firelizards shrieking for cover and had two loitering weyrbrats flattening instinctively to the ground. Xu’ma swung down from the blue’s neck mid-hover, landing hard in a crouch before straightening in a single, fluid motion.
“Someone get that bronze rolled so I can see the full 'score - don’t tug the hide, just angle that leg up,” he barked, voice cutting cleanly across the Weyrbowl's din, sharp and precise as a scalpel.
It wasn’t a suggestion.
Avicath was never a model patient under the best of circumstances. In pain and frightened, he was worse. The first attempt to get him to let the healers see his wounds resulted in an ear-ringing roar that was only cut off when his rider stepped in front of him and reached up to quite literally grab the bronze’s jaw. N’kevyn wasn’t actually strong enough to manhandle him, but the intent was enough that Avicath cut himself off mid-roar and dropped his head so that he was staring at his rider.
“Stop with the drama and let the healers help you.” N’kevyn gave the command in an even, firm tone, then nodded to the healers. Reluctantly, the huge bronze cooperated this time with the attempts to maneuver his leg into position.
Xu’ma was no stranger here. Barrier Lake had long grown used to the tempo of his voice in a crisis - sharp, certain, and commanding. He crossed the Bowl with a purposeful lope, bypassing the chaos without hesitation, eyes locked on the anxious but now still bronze sprawled near the north edge. His eyes still whirled, but the red was turning to yellow as he stared at his apparently calm rider. After a moment, N’kevyn gave his chin a gentle pat.
}: Avicath. :{ Vuth supplied to Xu’ma’s unvoiced query, succinct to a fault.
The bronze’s left hindquarter was a raw, weeping mess of ichor where a line of Thread had sliced deep across the inner thigh and flank while peppering the wing with a handful of ragged holes. Xu’ma’s examination was lightning quick but thorough. He judged the wing tears merely a distracting injury, superficial. The flank and thigh Threadscores were far more serious with superficial muscle layers exposed but overall it was clean Threadscore, surgical in its savagery, gruesome in size and appearance, but easily survivable. His rider stepped away from the bronze’s head finally, coming to look at the exposed wound for the first time. N’kevyn let out his breath in a hiss. “He always thinks every injury is the worst he’s ever had, but he might be right this time,” the words were light, but there was a tenseness in N’kevyn’s movements and tone that hinted that his calm appearance was an act. Keeping himself together kept the bronze from panicking again, but the wound was as worrying as it was nauseating.
**You’ll have some impressive scars out of this, but you’ll be fine,** N’kevyn reassured his bronze, despite his own feelings. **I’m sure Tymborikath will be impressed,** he lied.
“Torn muscle, no ligament damage, good margins,” declared Xu’ma, already sliding into the wreckage, rolling his sleeves with one hand while calling for clamps and needles. He didn’t glance up as N'kevyn leaned closer out of morbid curiosity.
The Master Dragonhealer snapped out quick orders. “You’ve got less then a minute to get this harness off before I cut it off and-" this directed to an assistant promptly hovering over his shoulder, "Two to open a vein if we don’t get pressure under control. Get moving.”
He spoke without fanfare, fingers already testing tissue with an expert’s delicacy, his other hand lifting a long-handled clamp from the quickly proffered tray of sterilised implements and directing an apprentice to flush beneath a torn flap of hide before it could be numbed for suturing. The bronze’s rider hovered nearby, pale and silent even as he reassured his dragon that everything was fine.
Xu’ma flicked N’kevyn a glance and a dry smile. “He’ll keep the leg. A limp while it heals at most.. Don’t hover now - breathe.”
“Oh, he’ll be dramatic about that.” N’kevyn moved out of the way, leaning against Avicath’s uninjured shoulder, the casual touch reassuring to both rider and dragon. “He loves when he can play up any injury.”
Behind them, Vuth stood sentinel, his vast form almost fading into the night's dark sky. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, but the low hum of approval in Xu’ma’s thoughts was grounding. Together, they worked. One with herbs and tools, the other with a quiet presence, cooling the panic that hung in the Bowl like steam after rain.
As the wound was slowly cleaned and numbed, Avicath’s eyes stopped whirling quite as fast, and he turned his head to try to see, only for N’kevyn to give his nose another gentle shove, **Look ahead. You don’t want to watch.**
Xu'ma worked in tight, efficient movements - no flair, just skill honed by years of not having the luxury of second chances. The bronze’s breathing slowed, gradually, as hands obeyed and the bleeding stemmed. Xu’ma’s voice dropped to a near murmur, steady and grounding. “You’re alright now. Rider’s fine. You’ll fly again.. if you just stop wriggling.”
Avicath did go suddenly still at that, believing the threat. Also because it had only just occurred to him to check that his rider had escaped uninjured, }:Are you alright?:{
N’kevyn gave a half-hearted chuckle, **Yes. Your magnificent rump caught the whole clump.**
}:I have the best rump,:{ Avicath agreed. }:It will have the best scars.:{
“Well, thank you, master Xu’ma. He’s feeling better enough to be fantasizing about his future battle scars,” N’kevyn affectionately patted the stripe of an old scar on the big bronze’s hide. “Sorry about the roaring earlier. Avi has a flair for drama.” The bronzerider still had a worried furrow to his brow, and the bronze still periodically flinched and shifted, but the fear from earlier had faded.
“More numbweed along the ‘score here,” Xu’ma nodded in acknowledgement to the bronzerider before directing an assistant, purposefully avoiding the salve himself. After all, numb fingers were not ideal for fine suture work. The last thing he needed was to slip a stitch or lose the needle entirely in the raw, weeping wound. A few moments later Avicath’s eyes flickered a shade greener, and Xu’ma took it as a win. Each stitch was a small victory - clean, tight, and careful. A flick of his wrist, a gentle press with a blotting cloth, and another neat knot followed.
When at last the wound closed, Xu’ma leaned back, blowing out a breath and flexing his fingers to chase away the ache. “That’s you stitched and sealed,” the dragonhealer gave the bronze a single fond pat before rising to his feet.
N’kevyn inspected the stitches, saying diligently, “The usual, I assume. Keep it dry, watch for any swelling. We’ve done this before, on a smaller scale. How long is he out for?”
“Grounded for two sevendays,” Xu’ma declared after a moment’s contemplation. “Wings are fine but that line of sutures is longer than a well-fed tunnelsnake. No lift off or landings unless you want to see all my hard work unravel like a frayed bootlace.” His tone held no room for negotiation, and he addressed both dragon and rider with equal weight.
Vuth, ever the sentinel, shifted his looming bulk closer, the air thickening with his silent presence. A ripple of quiet intensity pressed through their bond - encouragement, yes, but also a subtle warning to behave. Xu’ma didn’t look back, he didn’t need to. Vuth’s messages were never ambiguous.
“I’d almost think he did this on purpose. I’ve been making him exercise more,” N’kevyn explained with a slight smile. “He doesn’t like it.”
}:I did not do this on purpose, it hurts.:{ Avicath protested.
“We’ll check again midway through,” Xu’ma grinned, wiping his hands. “If it’s holding clean and tight, you might be back in the sky sooner. But until then - walk, don’t fly, and ideally do as little of that as possible till check up.”
“Well, his laziness will come in handy for once, he’s likely to follow those orders,” N’kevyn said dryly. “I’ll bring him back for the checkup. Thank you.”
Last updated on the June 8th 2025