Helpful Fussing

Writers: Kastaka, Shale
Date Posted: 21st April 2008

Characters: Vasha, A'drien
Description: Vasha oversteps her authority slightly in treating A'drien's injured dragon
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 9, day 5 of Turn 4

Supplies of numbweed, redwort and oil arrayed on all sides, wing-surgery tables and piles of cloth and gauze, reeds and sewing equipment strewn liberally around, the dragonhealers prepared to recieve the inevitable casulties of Threadfall. Vasha finished mixing another batch of redwort and looked up to see the first injury coming out of /between/ in the appointed place.

Conleth's pain-wracked bugle sounded across the Bowl as he emerged above the Weyr. The blue was clearly injured; his clumsy downward spiral betrayed a wing injury, but it was the least of A'drien's worries. An angry laceration scored the tender hide of Conleth's neck, and a rather alarming gap had been eaten into one of his dorsal ridges.

He was unable to execute a decent landing, and had to hobble the rest of the way to the Healers, creeling pitifully as every step jarred his neck and wing. A'drien followed, hands alternately soothing his dragon and wringing with worry. His eyes echoed Conleth's pain as he turned them on the Dragonhealers. "Please--can you help him?" he asked desperately.

At a nod from a journeyman - the dragon was under control, at least for the moment - Vasha leapt into action, handing out buckets of numbweed to nearby volunteers and helping to douse the affected areas.

"Neck down a bit, please?" she called timidly to A'drien, as the journeyman who'd given her the nod appeared to be busy co-ordinating the inspection of the wing injury. "It'll be a lot better once we've got numbweed on the lot of it, but we can't reach it from the ground if he's holding it away from us like that."

A'drien nodded weakly, barely grasping the request through the blue's shared fog of pain.
**Neck down, beast,** he jibed, hoping to ease the blue by relaxing himself. Conleth ignored the bait.
}:Hurts,:{ he responded, too distracted to form coherent thoughts. The word pulsated in his rider's mind, winding A'drien's nerves even tighter.
"_Down_, Conleth," he demanded aloud, and the dragon obliged, complaining bitterly. A fresh wave of panic gripped the bluerider when his mount's injury descended to eye-level. "Ohh," he groaned surveying the damage from this new angle. He'd always been a bit squeamish, and what oozed from his dragon's hide wasn't even _proper_ blood.
A'drien's knees shook; the man was too distraught to notice that he was very much in the way.

Vasha smiled reassuringly at A'drien as she ducked around him to get at his dragon's neck with a vast quantity of numbweed. She glanced around for a journeyman to inspect the wound, but they seemed to all be busy with other dragons, apart from the one who was yelling something about a table to a small group of volunteers, so she gave it a cursory look over for foreign bodies, but there was too much ichor to be really sure of anything, so she slathered the numbweed on straight away. At least it would keep the bleeding down, even if it might hide the problem.

Looking up again, it appeared as if the journeyman had come to a decision about the wing and stopped trying to organise a table party, which was good news for the dragon. Now he was collecting up reeds and cloth for a splint - hopefully nothing was seriously broken.

A'drien hovered over the apprentice, wary of her ministrations, but Conleth's enormous sigh of relief seemed to break his anxiety. "Thank you," he breathed, released from the urgency of his dragon's pain.
"Will he be--"

The bluerider was interrupted by Conleth's throaty hiss, and he stiffened again, eyes searching wildly for the offending Healer. A man was fiddling with his dragon's wing, giving A'drien new cause to fret--no, it was Conleth's worry that bled through, niggled some distant corner of his awareness. The thought was lost in the blue's plaintive moan, and A'drien fussed over his friend, feeling otherwise helpless.

"Your dragon's going to be fine," said Vasha automatically as she headed back to her cache of supplies for some redwort, and tried to catch the eye of someone more senior to be sure she was doing okay, but everyone was desperately busy, so she just lugged the redwort over to the neck wound herself. There was still a disturbing amount of ichor around and she dithered for a moment, wondering if she should make a fuss and fetch someone, or leave the numbweed to settle in longer, but she decided that everything would look a lot clearer once the wound was properly washed out.

"Um, hopefully the numbweed will have soaked in properly by now but if it hasn't quite got everywhere this might sting a bit," she warned A'drien as she began to swab the wound with redwort to try and clear out some of the ichor and the remains of the numbweed so that she could fetch someone to take a good look at it without them telling her off for not doing all the easy bits first.

Vasha's reassurance calmed A'drien, who grinned at her and raised a hand to slap Conleth's neck--and caught himself, just as the dragon rumbled a warning. "Sorry!" he rubbed his neck, embarrassed. Then, mentally: **She says you'll be fine, bully.**

}:Numbweed is good. I do not feel her hands,:{ the blue replied, again ignoring his rider's goading. }:My wing hurts.:{
**It will hurt a little longer,** A'drien promised, watching Vasha as she busily tended to Conleth's wounds. "He can't feel a thing. Don't hold back," he assured her, debating whether or not to ask about the wing. It hadn't seemed _too_ severe, but...

As if on cue, the journeyman handed the wing to another apprentice with the instruction to hold it still at that angle, and dashed over to where Vasha was tending to the dragon's neck.

"What are you doing, apprentice?" he asked in something of a sterner tone than might perhaps have been expected.

Vasha began to explain, "I'm just cleaning it out...", but this appeared to be the wrong answer.

"Before it's stopped bleeding, apprentice?" asked the journeyman sternly. He didn't appear to have noticed that the dragon's rider was still standing there next to their little confrontation.

A'drien frowned. "Apprentice?" He'd assumed the girl had reached at least journeyman status, but he hadn't exactly scrutinized her; Conleth was his first priority, after all. He wasn't thrilled that an apprentice had apparently improvised the healing of his dragon...but neither was he angry, as she hadn't done any harm. The blue rumbled protectively over his little healer, and A'drien stepped forward to appease him. "With all due respect, sir," he addressed the journeyman, knowing full well that he ranked the man, "she did as I told. I asked...ahh..." he dragged on cleverly, realizing that he hadn't learned her--

}:Vasha,:{ Conleth supplied, though how _he_ knew was beyond his rider's guess.

"...I asked Vasha to salve it up and clean it out straightaway.
Ordered, really--didn't give her much of a choice. Conleth was in hysterics."

}:Greens are hysterical. I am brave,:{ the dragon protested.

**Vain creature! You had _me_ wrapped in knots!** retorted A'drien, grateful that his friend was again coherent.

The journeyman made a kind of 'hrrmph'ing noise, and examined the wound more closely, failing to conceal very well the increased worry that this caused him. He muttered something under his breath, then turned back to Vasha, who was just standing there attempting to look meek and contrite.

"Why don't you get this brave rider some klah and a place to sit? Get someone to fetch me a suturing kit on the way," concluded the journeyman.

Vasha nodded, relieved that the trouble had been deflected for now.
She looked up at A'drien with a slightly plastered-on, professional smile over her natural relieved expression. "If you'll come this way,"
she said, gesturing towards a narrow passage between the supplies leading to a corner area mostly occupied by worried-looking riders, obviously trying to put on an impressive show of courtesy-towards-dragonriders in front of the journeyman.

A'drien followed reluctantly, glancing over his shoulder at the journeyman who now tended to Conleth. The man's worry had not been lost on him, and he would really prefer to stay by his friend--as if he could actually do anything _besides_ interfere, in his state. The dragon sent a tentative mental agreement, which hurt more than it helped, but Conleth was right. Klah and a seat sounded just fine.

The bluerider took his place among the others, trying valiantly to swallow a guilt that matched their expressions. He smiled weakly up at her--although, even sitting, he was nearly as tall as the girl--and reached for her hand. "Thank you," A'drien said, mustering all of his gratitude. He hoped that the journeyman's admonishment had not damaged her confidence. "Now," he continued wistfully, releasing her, "Someone mentioned klah?"

On their way to the corner, Vasha nudged one of the other apprentices and hissed, "Suture kit for Journeyman V'chenez up by the blue over there." A steaming cauldron of klah was on hand on a nearby table, and she smiled at A'drien and fetched a nice warm mug of the calming drink. "You'll do your dragon a lot better calming down on a chair than being underfoot," she reassured him, in the kind of voice that sounds like she is reciting from some kind of class, although the smile seems genuine enough. Taking a quick look around, she added more sincerely, "And thanks for saving my hide from that journeyman. I swear he's just making a fuss and your dragon will be fit and well in no time."

A'drien shrugged, caught in mid-swallow. After frigid /between/ and the cold grip of panic, the hot drink was most welcome, and he practically felt its warmth spreading to his fingers.

"Conleth likes you," he said simply. "I still would have helped if he _had_ given me another option." Whether the dragon's affection stemmed from gratitude or a blue's uncanny instinct, A'drien didn't know; he would ask Conleth at a more appropriate time. "So, he will heal? We'll be able to fight Thread?" he continued, hoping that their recovery time would be minimal--and knowing that it would take sevendays at the very least.

}:I am sorry,:{ Conleth said meekly. A'drien shook his head, sending his friend all the love and reassurance of which he was capable.

"He'll be just fine after V'chenez has sewn him up," replied Vasha encouragingly. "Might have to stay on the ground a few days to let that wing get better, I suppose." She looked nervously over at the collected bustle taking place around the other injured dragons. A senior apprentice caught her eye and waved her over. "I'd better head back into the fray, looks like some equipment needs washing. You take care, A'drien, and I hope to see you back in the air soon!"

The bluerider waved a friendly salute as Vasha hurried off. Perhaps she'd only been trying to comfort him, but it was a relief just to _hear_ a positive report for Conleth. A'drien again kicked himself for his disastrous timing; they'd shaken off one Thread tangle only to emerge beneath another. If he had only--

}:I will heal quickly,:{ promised the dragon. }:Your leg is bleeding.:{ So it was. A'drien had all but forgotten about his own injury, which had receded to a dull throbbing on the edge of his awareness. Now called to mind, the wound ached with a vengeance. It seemed shallow, and the blood was confined to a slow, narrow trickle, but there was no sense in risking infection, so he drained his mug of klah and set out to find his own Healer. Conleth would be fine under the watchful eyes of Vasha and her Craftsmen--until A'drien was fit to resume his helpful fussing.

Last updated on the May 1st 2008

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