Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 12, 2011 20:42:21 GMT -5
He reached the infirmary by way of the side tunnels rather than the dragon-sized main entrance. The first night he had ever required the Weyr healers, he had staggered in as humbly as possible, but still became the subject of rather intense analysis. The realization of how many people had come to attend a single holdless-- it was like hearing a joke while traveling Between. But tonight no one looked to him with special interest beyond a first confirming glance. He had become something of a fixture here anyway, as much of the light infirmary work suited a man whose healthy body had been reduced to a mass of muscle on a broken frame.
The tasks Lokien had set for him were not included in his present chores. He had not seen his fellow Candidate that night, nor since, though he had been told Lokien was aware of the situation. Qosis was not sure he believed that. The Journeyman had never surfaced anywhere to indicate his disapproval! At any rate, though his fingers remained entirely functional, he no longer had the speed to match his precision as was needed for that work.
His dinner sat light in his stomach as he edged up onto the end of a stone examination table. It was set in a recession of the wall, but it was still the main cavern. The lack of privacy did not bother him. All ears and all eyes were on him at all times in the caravan, and he was not so far gone that he had acquired a stonebred's modesty. He leaned back to eschew the plain brown jacket he had been draping over his shoulders for warmth. Nothing could be done about the light tunic beneath, as he could not raise or twist his arms to remove it. His inspector for the night could peel the cloth back or open the front. The first time they had simply cut everything off.
In the middle of it all had been the mildly alarming attentions of a healer missing part of his arm. What had bothered Qosis then was now a routine sight. The trader was gazing resentfully at the cheap jacket crumpled on the table behind him when he detected footsteps on purposeful approach, and immediately launched into the day's complaints without looking to his attendant:
"The right arm is still stiff and benumbed long after the dressing has dried." Qosis twitched his fingers where they sprouted from the lower edge of the right arm's sling. He knew the numbweed effect had petered out; he could feel it in his ribs. "It will be fixed by Hatching, won't it?" And at this demand his drab olive eyes finally swung around to scrutinize the figure nearing the table.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 12, 2011 21:11:30 GMT -5
Tedaon moved through the infirmary checking his various patients, ensuring that they were all healing nicely and, most importantly, still alive. Neras Flitted along behind him holding a small bag with a few bandages in it. Yes, the Flitt loved to help it just took a while to get the Black to do the right thing. Still, he loved the creature and was thankful for his assistance. He looked over and noticed one of his regulars walking into the Infirmary. The boy who was convinced something was wrong with his toes. Tedaon drooped his head and walked over to the Weyrbrat, who immediately began telling him about some thing or another. "Look. There is nothing wrong with you. See these people. There's something wrong with them. Please. Please. Go away." He said to the boy before walking straight past him, waving another healer over to deal with the boy.
He walked over to another patient, looking down at a record of the patient's ailments. When he started speaking, Tedaon looked up with a small look of annoyance. It was Qosis. Sure, he didn't mind the boy too much but it was still a little frustrating to have a candidate come into his infirmary with that many injuries. Neras Flitted on behind him and perched himself on Tedaon's shoulder, bag hanging over his shoulder.
"Qosis. Good to see you again. You going to tell me today what happened?" He asked, not answering the somewhat tentative question asked of him by the candidate. Thus far, the boy had turned up in the infirmary with some pretty intense wounds and no explanation as to how he had managed to sustain the injuries. Tedaon suspected some sort of fight but hadn't truly pushed the matter. "Or should I just guess it for myself, fix you up and send you on your way." He smiled in a seemingly good humored way, something of a clear joke playing on his features.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 13, 2011 12:12:02 GMT -5
"I did tell you what happened," Qosis replied, noticing how Tedaon did not immediately move to his aid. Without that routine in the healer's reception, he could not return the friendly smile. His attention flicked to the firelizard atop the healer's shoulder, though his mouth did not pull at its usual unconscious scowl for the beast. He still did not like Neras. The flit's black body reminded him of burnt wood, or a body part so decrepit with infection it was about to fall off.
It was not his fault that he had gotten out his excuse in a hazy mumble drowned out by the healers, and that Tedaon would not have believed a word of it had he heard it anyway. The one thing the healer's smile told him was that the situation of his arm was probably not as dire as it felt. Still, maybe he should find Lokien. He did not trust this other healer. Tedaon looked familiar to him as his eyes flicked along their usual posts: firelizard, missing arm, boots, face. Familiar, but not in a purely physical sense, and not as family. The resulting uncertainty made him hunch his shoulders in silent defense till a sharp pang rippled from arm-to-arm and he relaxed involuntarily.
Sullen at the loss of control, he straightened his back but kept his head low. "Fixing and sending along sounds swell." He tried to reach the knot of his sling with his left hand, but he could not raise it high enough and let it smack back down on the table. A brief but potent fury crossed his green eyes as they studied the floor. "They ought to clear more of those wild whers off the island. Or tell us more definitively why we aren't supposed to leave the Weyr at night," he moped with minimal theatrics, as if reading straight off a script. He wanted to give a name, and point out the real monster under the Weyr walls. Even to Tedaon, it would be reassuring. But it would also invite the question of how Qosis had come to pull the monster's tail.
He had already made discrete inquiry into the consequences of the truth, and knew it was not for him. "Good to see you too, healer," he added quietly, then raised a half-smirk as he looked back to the Journeyman. "I guess."
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
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Post by Boo on May 13, 2011 17:18:34 GMT -5
Tedaon laughed at the near indignant response from his patient. Oh yes, attacked by wild Whers. He'd heard that one before. "I'll let you in on a tip here. Try not to use the cover story your healer uses." He mock whispered, gesturing to his still tender leg, "I was wrestling Whers myself when I got a dislocated ankle. Believable, right?" He kept smiling, still an empty one but one to at least make the patient feel somewhat comfortable as he washed his hands on a cloth.
"And I'm glad you think so, Qosis. So, the numbweed has obviously worn off..." He commented to himself, "Bruises... Still tender... Cuts are..." He reached out to test each wound, extremely gently as he worked, seeing how tender they were. He pulled some of the coverings off briefly to see how the sterilisation of each wound was. The scratches were always the worst problem. With a candidate running about who knew what kinds of infection could get into it. Thankfully, the antiseptic wash seemed to be doing its job.
"If any of that hurt I may need to look at the stitches but... If not, I guess it's just some more numbweed and a change of dressings really." Tedaon spoke in a reassuring manner. Neras trilled a little, pleased to be of some service to His when Tedaon started pulling bandages out and placed them near the jacket already tossed onto the stone table. Of course, Tedaon placed them neatly in a row, ensuring that they were not about to become knotted or worse...
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 13, 2011 19:06:36 GMT -5
"Entirely believable. But why does a healer need a cover anyway? Isn't he just a basically good person, devoting himself to the health of others?" Qosis watched Tedaon's eyes more than his mouth, but did not miss the little mask of expression that anticipated the healer's work. He smiled back, if only to indicate his cooperation. But as the healer came close, he tensed again, and this time did not relax even as the constriction of his muscles burnt against his injuries. His pupils were drawn into focusing black points that followed Tedaon's hand.
His reaction was no fault of Tedaon's. Even a feather-light brushing would have earned the same suspicion. Qosis was not aware of his resistance, only the aches that naturally responded and fed the cycle further. Since arriving at Dalibor, the only proximity he allowed had been all for Nadya. And the logical part of him could distinguish that from Tedaon's probings easily. But the light pressure called her back into his thoughts...and then how it ended, on the note of a wher's friendly greeting. Then the same beast sinking his talons deep as Qosis' ribs took the full impact of his own weight and the Brown's against the stone storage floor...
He took a sharp breath and relaxed. Tedaon was laying out bandages beside him. "That," Qosis grunted ineffectively, then turned his head to bob his chin toward the inside slash on his right shoulder. "That one hurt," he mumbled, belatedly processing the sensation. His ribs had tickled unpleasantly too, but he was not about to complain over every tiny tinge of pain. Hard enough to speak plainly on the shoulder; it felt like whining femininity.
The flit's noise earned it a wide-eyed look from the patient, but Qosis said nothing.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 13, 2011 20:02:07 GMT -5
Tedaon laughed at the comment from Qosis that healers were all good people. Devoting time to the health of others. "Oh we do have our secrets." He replied in what he hoped was a mock mysterious manner.
By that point he had finished testing the wounds and picked up a bandage. Qosis' delayed reaction disturbed him a little and he watched the boy for any signs of delirium. He doubted that the candidate would have managed thus far without some dreadful repercussions if he had been somewhat delirious. He frowned a little and looked at the named wound again, searching for sign of infection. It seemed clean but to be on the safe side he'd probably apply some more hissop and numbweed.
"Right... So the scratches still hurt a bit." He repeated more to himself. As he thought of the cause, he began taking the dressings of the left scratches extremely carefully knowing how tender wounds could be even after so long healing. He had noticed Qosis tensing up when he'd touched the wounds before but figured this was relatively normal. Not many patients he knew enjoyed having their wounds touched even if they knew it was for the better.
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 13, 2011 23:01:56 GMT -5
The patient displayed no more delays in sensation to reaction, flinching appropriately when the sorest parts of each wound were touched. He remained tense, but was somewhat more self-aware about it this round and tried to ease his muscles where he could. The cold dabs of numbweed on his skin made him shiver for the second or two he could feel them. His shoulders and chest did not have the thorough "protection" of scarring like his lower arms and legs did.
"...I may have been falling asleep on top of this arm," he advanced reluctantly, clenching his right hand. "I tried propping up the pillows but it doesn't work-- I roll over and crush them." Numbweed or not, his body was determined not to rest on his back while his ribs were still worthless. The precarious position he always dutifully went to sleep in, balanced on his side with his right arm down, had to end within five minutes of his eyes closing. "Keep waking up a couple 'marks before dawn, which is when that shoulder hurts the most. But everything is pretty sore by then." And he too tired to drag himself out to the infirmary for some substandard healer assistant's dressings.
He wanted to rub the back of his neck, and couldn't. "I've never had anyone tell me I'm much of a night turner, so it's pretty inconvenient for me to start now." Sure he would never again achieve the deathly stillness he had when Qosk was watching his back, but he had never woken in the creatively painful positions he had lately at any time before. Such maneuvers guaranteed pins and needles in one or more limbs even if he was not in a state of injury. "If you know anything for that--" Startled at the proximity of his request to that of a fellis addict seeking his fix, Qosis immediately abated the request.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 14, 2011 2:45:32 GMT -5
Tedaon listened to what his patient had to say, taking it all into account in his mind. It did concern him that the boy hadn't come for at least some help when he'd discovered there was something wrong with his arm. Well, the pain that Qosis was in was not for him to judge in the slightest unless he wanted it to be so. Unfortunately, if a patient hid their pain or insisted everything was fine and that the needed no help... Well, a healer couldn't really work on them without their permission. Apparently that wasn't the case here but rather an instance of someone not wanting to actually get out of bed.
He raised an eyebrow when Qosis trailed off from asking for something to fix how he slept. In all honesty there was not too much. They could use some dried leaves of a Hop but... Well, Tedaon was loathe to prescribe it for anything. Unfortunately it's side effects tended to be worse than the things it actually served to accomplish. Mostly though, it was just something he figured didn't actually do too much. It was pretty much a waste. Unless Qosis was referring to the pain. Either way, he didn't think it all that necessary.
He worked slowly, being one handed never had benefits, and worked to remove the bandages as best he could. He managed to get them off and immediately set to reapplying them. Neras settled down, perching himself on a cabinet to watch His at work.
"Yes, these types of injuries will generally not let you sleep so easily. It seems that you might need to keep yourself still at night but, well, it's almost impossible to actually do that." He mused somewhat vaguely, "'Course, you could always take an egg to sleep. Guaranteed you'll be so worried about it that you won't move at all. Probably won't sleep either."
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 14, 2011 13:56:23 GMT -5
"A...dragon egg...?" Qosis was not aware his thought had come out aloud, still flummoxed at the image of himself trying to hug one of the large, well-shaped eggs to his chest while he slept. It was the only sort of egg he was thinking about lately. But his bed was not even big enough...and none of that made sense, he noted belatedly. "An egg," he repeated, staring at Tedaon. The healer was almost as tall as he was standing, so while seated he could actually look face-to-face with him rather easily.
He smiled, holding out his left arm as far as it would go to give the one-handed healer extra binding room. Eventually he had to get off the table, granting access to his back where the cracks in his ribs hovered under a healthy-looking layer of muscle and skin. Occasionally he used his left hand to help pin one of the bandages tight to his body while Tedaon knotted the other side. There was a wisdom in not slathering the herb on him till he felt no pain at all: the numbweed did not penetrate quite as deep into his shoulder as the scratches, so he could still feel when to stop moving his arm a certain way.
Therefore Qosis could not estimate that this was what Damali felt all the time. That girl had no filter at all. "I will see if someone in the kitchens will lend me a wherry egg," he said, willing to try anything now that most of his agonies had departed in the dressing process. The trader's stubbornness was invariably tied to his pain. Similarly, Qosis had turned exceedingly patient toward Tedaon's prolonged work. "Excited for the clutch, Healer? How many have you seen?"
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 15, 2011 3:42:33 GMT -5
Tedaon was a little surprised when Qosis took his suggestion quite seriously. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or be pleased that it might work. The other thought was that the boy would get no sleep at all. When Qosis asked of taking a Dragon Egg with him Tedaon stifled a laugh at the thought of him trying to hug a gigantic egg containing a Gold. It would have been quite a sight to see. He continued his work, though, pleased for the assistance afforded to him by Qosis. He was a good patient no mind that he'd refused to tell them the straight truth.
Tedaon had a sneaking suspicion that had it truly been wild Whers there would be nothing left for him to treat. Not even the smallest scrap of meat. Well, it seemed as though Qosis was truly having some serious difficulties in sleeping if he was desperate enough to take a Wherry egg to sleep with him. That was concerning enough. Still, there was little else he could do other than treat the candidate and hope desperately that it was merely the wounds that were keeping him awake.
The other thought, of course, was that the Hatching was causing some anxiety for the poor boy. He smiled at the question posed of him. "I've stood for a number actually. Watched even more." He replied, "I guess you could say that I'm excited." Truth was, he rather enjoyed going along to hatchings. For the most part. But he'd invested a great deal of time into ensuring that most of the candidates came out of the hatching with as little injuries as possible.
It still pained his heart to know that the last Wher hatching had involved the death of so promising a Wherling. He had been unable to do anything to help the poor boy. It had all happened so swiftly. He hoped that nothing similar would happen for the Dragon candidates.
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Azhdarchid
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Totes.
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 15, 2011 22:42:55 GMT -5
Oh. Right. Tedaon was a healer, so his attendance at every Hatching was probably compulsory. There were people whose duties entailed they miss most of the events. Drudges mostly. And wher Hatchings, as much as Qosis thought he would enjoy them, did not occur at an opportune enough time to summon the whole Weyr to the Sands. There was that reason, and others. He could not imagine attending another such fete.
"Such enthusiasm," the trader murmured, almost under his breath, but he smiled over at his Journeyman attendant as the last bandages were tightened. If Tedaon had Stood many times, but had no dragon to show for it, Qosis could not blame him for any traces of melancholy he had picked up in the aftermath. And to add insult to injury was that missing hand, which he thought would be most tactful not to ask about. His own incomplete right hand spoke to the simple fact that many people lost things on Pern, and it was not an unusual state of being.
He lowered his arms, turning around to retrieve the sling. Tedaon would have to set his right arm to its needed alignment, and tighten the sling across his chest till it held the dislocated appendage properly, but Qosis still unfolded the cloth and held it in place to his underarm to start the process. "Let's see that you attend the feast afterwards too, right?" Maybe another smile or a chuckle would better his impression of the man. Once the sling was in place, Qosis reached for the jacket he had left on the table. He promptly began the awkward process of shuffling the leather back over his shoulders without the use of his right arm, and encumbered by the stiffness of his left.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 16, 2011 7:27:03 GMT -5
Tedaon nodded as though agreeing with the statement about his enthusiasm. He guessed that what he liked most about the hatchings was the expressions on the faces of each new Weyrling as they walked off the Sands. Some seemed thrilled and others slightly perplexed. The most humorous were always the boys who had impressed typically 'female' partners. They usually got over it but he'd seen a couple of males with confused expressions whilst their Pink walked happily beside them.
He finished off with the bandages and started on the Sling that Qosis was holding in place. It was difficult work but he maneuvered his one hand rather nicely, stretching the fingers to create a large loop and then slowly tightening it with his hand and stump. It took a little longer than another healer might have been able to accomplish but at least it was done.
Tedaon lowered his hand and arm, folding them across his body admiring his handiwork. Yep. Pretty decent if he said so himself. Qosis' help was much appreciated in getting the job done quickly. He remembered the time when he'd tried to stitch some wounds on a couple of Dragons whom had partaken in a particularly violent Flight. It had taken forever and made him want to kick something.
"Wouldn't miss the feast for anything. All that wine? What kind of a man do you think I am?" Tedaon asked in a mock hurt tone but smiled shortly afterwards. He reached out with his hand and held the jacket to assist Qosis in awkwardly shrugging it back on. It was the least he could do for all the help Qosis had been throughout the whole process.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 16, 2011 14:07:29 GMT -5
"A good one, with his priorities in order." Qosis smiled, doubly reassured by the healer's words and actions. What would have been different if Lokien was the Journeyman attending him, if that was the first time he met the other Candidate? Well for one thing he would have gotten no help with his jacket. For another, he would-- no, he was not sure if he would have taken Lokien's bedside manner worse than Tedaon's. Maybe formality would have been more comfortable than false cheer. His frame of reference on the demeanor of healers was thankfully narrow. They could lament his preventable scarring all they liked, but he had been more at ease with his mother seaming his skin than he had with the caravan's occasional Healerhall guests.
Of course if Tedaon missed the feast, it would be because he was busy piecing together Candidates and dragonets in the infirmary. So Qosis decided to take the comment as a promise against undue chaos. "I will tell you if the egg works," he said, grinning sheepishly at the lingering mental image of the plan. "Thank you, Journeyman. I will see you at that feast." Qosis tipped his head to the older man, then headed out of the infirmary. He would head to the kitchens first and find out how far the Weyrfolk's eyes could roll at his request.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on May 16, 2011 17:05:54 GMT -5
Tedaon nodded at the Candidate as though reassuring him that he would put an appearance into turning up to the feast after the hatching. That meant there would be absolutely no casualties. Hopefully there wouldn't be any more ichor or blood staining the sands. He blamed the Reds rather readily for that disliking almost all of them with a passion. "Of course, I'll be there to congratulate you." He replied with a wink.
He couldn't help but smile at the patients assertion that he would be taking an egg to sleep with him. Tedaon suspected that Qosis would find that he couldn't even sleep with the thought of crushing it hanging over his head... Still, it was better than just doing nothing. He did need to remain still with his injuries considering how severe they were. "Until next time then."
He waved a little and then set to clearing up any left over mess before walking out into the main part of the infirmary, Neras Flitting happily behind him. He spotted the Weyrbrat from before and rolled his eyes. There were times he had the biggest urge to slap him over the head. Still... Then he'd be back every other day with a headache...
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