When Life Doesn't Give You Lemons...

[4horseshowgirl4]

The infirmary was awfully cold and lonely. Every small noise, every container B'nyur set down on the cold tables, every shift Oveth made curled up in his corner, was magnified by the huge, sterile area. It was creepy, almost, it was eerie and unwelcoming. B'nyur and Oveth were both used to large, bustling infirmaries, with lots of helpers and efficiently running through a large number of patients. This place, with so few dragons for which to care, and, even worse, no colleagues, felt as little like B'nyur's and Oveth's home as Fajra's weyr did. It was supposed to be their warm, welcoming, safe place, not something as unemotional as this.

Therefore, B'nyur had decided to do something about the situation. He claimed it was mostly because the infirmary needed volunteers who were at least skilled enough to clean a wound if, say, several dragons flew in with serious injuries all at once. This was a perfectly good reason, as it was always nice to have backup if one needed it. All infirmaries had their small crew of the Terran equivalent of paramedics. B'nyur had taken charge of training some of them at Fort, and he was well aware of the seemingly insignificant but in reality vital role they played in caring for dragonkind.

However, both B'nyur and Oveth really just wanted some company. Oveth in particular was suffering, as he couldn't exactly help with drying and storing the herbs that B'nyur was growing in their makeshift garden up on the Weyr's ridge. The Blue was used to his role as the comforter, the one who helped to keep the patients relaxed as B'nyur did his duty. He liked his job, and he was miserable when he couldn't talk to anyone but B'nyur and Shanza.

Shanza, B'nyur's Copper flitter, was spending most of her days exploring her new home. She was unusual for a Queen firelizard in that she knew that the Weyr belonged to the dragons for the most part. She didn't dare to try and claim their territory. She, too, was well aware of the job that B'nyur had given her. As a Queen, the vast majority of firelizards would instantly submit to her orders, which was highly useful for immediately forcing B'nyur's littler patients to stay still so he could do his job. However, unlike Oveth, she was intelligent, and she was hardly going to sleep in the infirmary all day when she wasn't needed. Occasionally she fetched something for B'nyur from the garden (when Oveth didn't beg to be flown up there instead), but, for the most part, she was idle all day.

B'nyur had set up a sign outside the infirmary and another one outside the dining hall with a notice that he would be training anyone who wanted to volunteer in the infirmary today. Anyone who was coming was scheduled to come within a few moments. He hoped that at least two or three people would come. He was fairly confident that some of the Candidates would be curious, as they hadn't officially started their chores as of yet.

After today, would B'nyur have that team for which he so longed? Would the infirmary finally be a family again?

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"Come on, Shoth. It isn't much further..."
The dragon scoffed, his whirling eyes narrowed and fierce as he reluctantly followed the guidance of His, blood trailing on the ground behind him. The three slashes along his neck were still fresh, no longer bleeding, but still painful. His legs were burning, the gashes along the hocks ripping larger as he moved, causing even B'rak to wince in both pain and mourning for his wounded partner.

But the worst was the gaping wound in his gut, a miraculous slice that had narrowly managed to keep from slicing completely into the dragon's intestines. He was bleeding profusely from the wound, but not enough to threaten his life--yet.

Even while in pain the dragon held his head high, glowering and fuming to himself as he shuffled along, walking almost on his toes in an attempt to keep his already dirt-covered underbelly free of the floor even as his back legs nearly dipped to the ground themselves. His attempt was to no avail, however, and he periodically gave out a loud hiss as he was forced to rest, grit digging into his belly even as his legs gave sighs of relief.

Stubborn, he was up as soon as B'rak turned to tend to him, grunting out his displeasure as he steadily continued onwards until at last there was the 'light at the end of the tunnel.'

"Ah...excuse me.." B'rak was the first to speak, popping into the room even as Shoth roughly brushed past him, shooting daggers at Oveth and glaring just as much at B'nyur. He was in pain, his pride was damaged, revenge was fresh on his mind, and he was in no mood to even pretend to have a semblance of respect for the gathered. He wanted nothing more than to be patched up enough to sleep, to take a nap, and to scheme payback on the lovely who dared to turn claws on him.

"Are you the healer..?" The white-haired man continued, biting his lip as he tilted his head, looking from Shoth to B'nyur with notable worry on his face, "Shoth is pretty badly hurt..."
Hush up with your formalities, Mine. Shoth snapped to everyone on the room, He's obviously the healer. He turned on B'nyur, eyes whirling a rainbow of colors for the mis-matched emotions of anger, pain, hatred, distrust, hurt, saddness, and pure grumpiness he was suffering from as he snarled, baring his teeth with notable testiness, I hurt. Fix it. NOW.

[4horseshowgirl4]

At first, B'nyur was oblivious to the inherent arrival of the injured dragon. He was still bustling around the infirmary, setting out various herbs and whatnot for what he hoped would be torrid of volunteers all willing to learn the basics of healing. Shanza, B'nyur's Copper firelizard, popped out from between and landed on B'nyur's shoulder skillfully. However, the emotions radiating from her mind were depressed. B'nyur had just sent her out to scan the halls for anyone who was planning on coming, but it seemed that there was no one around. B'nyur cursed quietly under his breath. What if he had a real crisis on his hands? What if a dragon came in with serious injuries, so serious that it was downright stupid for one Journeyman to try and tackle them on his own? Shanza didn't bother to try and cheer him up, but Oveth, the good fellow that he was, carressed His's mind, reassuring him thta everything would be fine. Eventually, people would come once they saw what a nice place this was.

However, B'nyur was startled when Oveth's calming presence in his head quickly left without a warning. B'nyur, as if by habit, glanced over his shoulder at the entrance of the infirmary to check if that was what had distracted the Blue. Sure enough, it had. B'nyur walked briskly to the entrance to greet the man, just to nearly be run over as a rather runty Bronze charged in. B'nyur deftly jumped out of the dragon's way, surprised nonetheless. Inwardly, B'nyur groaned. Kalith's mating flight surely couldn't be quite over yet, and any dragon that had been injured while Chasing was never fun to treat. B'nyur didn't know how much the Flight had affected the Bronzerider, but a bit of wine to snap him out of the wild lusting wouldn't hurt. The Dragonhealer tossed a flask at B'rak, nodding for him to drink it down. "Tell me what happened," B'nyur said firmly to B'rak.

Meanwhile, Oveth flinched at Shoth's hostility. He was used to dragons taking out their pain on the infirmary staff, but it still didn't make that any less hurtful. Still, it wasn't Shoth's fault he was feeling bad. Oveth immediately forgot his hurt and was filled with sympathy (though that was probably the last thing the Bronze wanted at the moment). While His was talking to B'rak and gathering up his redwort and numbweed, Oveth took charge. Shoth, would you go lie on that large couch there? Face your belly towards Mine, please, and he'll slap numbweed on it as fast as possible. The Blue nodded towards the largest of the dragon couches here-- while Shoth would have fit in one of the smaller ones, Kings usually wanted to be treated with the best the infirmary had.

Meanwhile, Shanza hovered nearby, landing on a shelf not far from Shoth. She did not like King dragons, that was for sure. They were always too full of themselves to listen to her when she ordered them to forget the pain, and usually reciprocated by snapping at her. She didn't bother to use her influence as a Queen on Shoth. He was already irritable enough without a firelizard invading his mind.

B'nyur was over in a second with clean cloths, spreading redwort on Shoth's multiple wounds to disinfect them before starting his work. {Oveth, tell Shoth that he needs to relax and stop snapping at us!} B'nyur said with the same firm, commanding tone as he hastily spread the antimicrobial herb across Shoth's belly. Shoth, relax. Mine says that you're such a strong Bronze that you'll heal with no problems, but it'll help if you stop thinking about the pain. Oveth said, fibbing, as he knew that outright ordering Shoth to be polite would have no effect whatsoever. Kings injured chasing Queens were always egosticial, pushy jerks; there was a reason why a competitior or the Queen herself chose to swipe at them.

"B'rak, get over here and hold this bandage against Shoth's gut," B'nyur said, handing the Bronzerider a large bandage slathered with a generous amount of numbweed. B'nyur then moved to Shoth's hocks, deftly taping another bandage there, and a third on the Bronze's neck. "When the bleeding stops, we'll remove the bandages for a moment and properly clean the dirt out of those wounds," B'nyur said, patting Shoth on the shoulder before fetching the Bronze a large bucket of water. "B'rak, get him to drink it. He's lost enough ichor that I'm worried about dehydration."

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B'rak caught the oncoming flask on reflex, peering at it curiously before taking a shrugging good-sized swig of it when the other asked him to drink it. The moment the wine touched his tongue however, he recoiled visibly, lip curling in distaste. The miner--although able to chew through just about anything without a blink--was not friends with wine.

At the point when most people just began to feel the onslaught of a pleasant buzz, B'rak was downright drunk, and while Shoth absolutely adored it when His was drunk--he was much more like Shoth himself, you realize, and delightfully entertaining--B'rak abhorred it. So it wasn't much of a surprise when he winced, realizing what he'd just drank and about how much time he'd have until everyone was aware of it.

The rider sighed and ambled over to where Shoth had carefully settled himself, his head positioned to where he could observe everyone comfortably. The white-haired youth obediently took the bandage, holding it where told with a subtle frown on his lips.
You should relax, Mine. Shoth mocked, partially after Oveth's words even as he did settle himself down without biting any heads.
Don't start with me now, Shoth..
The dragon chuckled aloud, giving a smug look as he settled a bit more, the numbweed clearly taking affect even while the buzz beginning in B'rak's head soothed his own thoughts, Very well. I'll just let you have your fun.

The rider lifted his head up with a snap, glaring, but gave in with a growl, taking the bucket and offering it to the dragon, who downed it quickly. "So you say he'll be alright?" He mumbled after a moment, Shoth's increasingly smug look telling him just how fuzzy his mind was getting even though he himself couldn't quite tell. Great.

[4horseshowgirl4]

B'nyur finished bandaging Shoth. He wasn't worried about most of the wounds-- they were fairly shallow-- and they would heal fine as long as they didn't get infected. The Dragonhealer didn't know how long it had taken for Shoth and B'rak to get to the infirmary to get Shoth cleaned up with redwort, but, as Kalith still wasn't finished with her Flight, he hoped that it hadn't been too long. He didn't want to deal with an infection. B'nyur sighed quickly, before taking a soft-bristled brush and brushing tenderly at the dirt that Shoth had gotten in his leg wounds on the way here. There was enough numbweed on the dragon that he shouldn't be able to feel B'nyur poking at his open wounds, but B'nyur was still cautious to be gentle in case he had missed a spot (which he shouldn't have, he was a Journeyman, not some new Apprentice). Still, he watched Shoth's eyes carefully as he worked, alert for any sudden flash of color.

When the wound was clean to B'nyur's satisfaction and he had scrubbed it with redwort a second time, just to make sure, he turned back to B'rak. "Did Kalith do this, or another dragon? Are there any others that are injured?" It didn't take B'nyur long to realize that B'rak, instead of being shaken out of his flightlust by the wine, was quickly becoming rather intoxicated. B'nyur groaned quietly; usually Bronzeriders were rather tolerant to alcohol. "He doesn't hold his liquor, huh?" B'nyur said to no one in particular, still hoping that B'rak would at least be sober enough to explain to B'nyur why Shoth had got these injuries. Oveth relayed the questions to Shoth for good measure, as the dragon seemed far more sentient than his rider at the moment, even in pain.

B'nyur had counted that it had been about ten minutes in his head, so he cautiously peeled away a corner of the bandage on Shoth's belly for a moment, to see if the bleeding had stopped. Most of it had, but one section was still oozing blood a little bit. B'nyur replaced the bandage, gesturing to B'rak that he was relieved of his job. B'nyur could hold it for a few more minutes, hopefully giving the injury enough time to start scabbing. Otherwise, B'nyur would have to give Shoth stitches, and he would really prefer not to have to do that.

The Dragonhealer leaned against the bandage, applying pressure enough to slow the bleeding. "B'rak, you might want to go grab your cot. I have one in here, but there's not one for visitors yet, and I want to keep Shoth here overnight to keep an eye on him for infection. Is that okay?" Oveth rumbled slightly, stepping forward. "Oh, yes, Oveth can help you, if you like. Bronzeriders have fairly high up weyrs, correct?"

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B'rak gave a dry chuckle, eyes falling to half-mast as he gave an open yawn and glanced in B'nyur's direction, chin-lifted and a smirk on his lips. "It was Kalith." He replied smoothly, tuning out Shoth's chuckle, "And there was another," He shifted, leaning against the couch as Shoth lifted his head, eyes whirling with amusement, "But it wasn't one of ours." The bronzerider gave an absent shrug, looking away from and then back to B'nyur, a brow suddenly arching as though he were noticing the other for the first time.

Not in the least. Shoth crooned at B'nyur's question, giving a draconic grin as his eyes whirled energetically, He's never been able to. But I don't mind. He's much more fun this way.
"I agree with that." B'rak added, chuckling softly as he gave B'nyur a good look-over, not bothering i nthe least to be discreet. "Huh. You aren't a bad looker." He announced, blinking absently. "Who'da thunk it."

He moved away from the couch when B'nyur asked, although his usually ambling walk had been replaced with a more pronounced sashay, his hands thrust into his pockets as though he didn't even realize how he was moving. "Aw, you mean I can't sleep with you?" He asked after a moment, grinning wickedly as he looked over his shoulder, giving an almost giggly chuckle before waving it off, "Naah. You healer types are stuffy--never let me have my fun."
Shoth gave another laugh, settling down with a pleased croon that B'rak looked back at, a brow arched. I don't want another dragon in my den. Shoth announced, although it seemed that he more or less was lying, more interested in seeing how this would play out if he prevented His from getting assistance. B'rak was capable of carrying his own--and usually would be quite willing to as well--but most likely wouldn't in this situations.

Ha! This was very fun. Shoth shifted, staring at B'nyur to see how he'd react. There was nothing more fun then squishy-reactions--irritation and surprise were the best.

[4horseshowgirl4]

"There was another?!" B'nyur exclaimed in surprise, nearly dropping the bandage. "Is the other dragon getting care? How on Pern did one of the dragons from another Weyr find this continent just when Kalith was taking Flight? B'nyur was fairly certain that Fajra wouldn't just open the doors for strange dragons to participate in Kalith's Flight, and that pair, at least, had been here for long enough that few people would know when she was supposed to rise. Something didn't add up, but that wasn't important for the moment. The important thing was whether there was a Dragonhealer tending to that dragon's injuries, as B'nyur was Shoth's. It was likely that the other had been able to /between/ home if he was injured to any extent: Shoth surely wouldn't have been able to do so without freezing his gut where it was exposed in his wound. "Are you sure it wasn't of Dalibor, it wasn't a new arrival?" B'nyur said, sharp and commanding. "Where is he? Is there a Dragonhealer with him?" As a Wingrider of Dalibor, B'nyur's loyalties lie with the Weyr, but as a Dragonhealer, the important facet was the health of all dragons, not just Dalibor's.

However, this train of thought was interrupted by B'rak's next action. B'nyur raised his eyebrows, surprised and slightly offended. He had nothing against men, no, but he didn't appreciate being examined like a piece of meat. For a minute, he was tempted to slap B'rak into his senses, but he thankfully remembered that slapping a drunk was a rather stupid thing to do. He chose to ignore B'rak, as the Dragonhealer was certain that it was only the wine that was making the Bronzerider say such things. "No, you cannot," B'nyur stated firmly, hoping that he was acting sufficiently stuffy for the Bronzerider to lose interest. {Oveth? Bespeak a drudge or two and have them bring a cot down for B'rak} B'nyur said, glad beyond belief that the Blue had no qualms about entering the mind of another; he wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect of leaving injured Shoth and drunk B'rak unsupervised, even for a minute, to track someone down. It was just at this moment that B'nyur especially longed for help.

When Oveth had contacted someone, he couldn't help but be amused at the situation. It wasn't often that someone announced a liking of His, and Oveth had never before seen that happen with a Kingrider. Yours is very funny, he said to Shoth. Still, the dragon was happy that B'rak's sentiment was not returned: he wasn't too thrilled about sharing his weyr with Shoth, either. Mine, don't Bronzeriders usually hit on women? Oveth asked B'nyur, somewhat confused. B'nyur shrugged, peeling back the corner of the bandage again. Before replying to Oveth, a small smile of satisfaction graced his face. Shoth's bleeding had slowed to a small trickle, which meant no stitches would be necessary. The Dragonhealer took off the bandage before dousing a new one with redwort and replacing it on Shoth's side.

{That's usually the general idea, Oveth} B'nyur said, leaning against Shoth's side. {I think it's just the wine. I don't want to let him do anything he might regret later if he's straight.} B'nyur explained to the Blue. While he wasn't opposed to a fling, doing anything with a drunk Bronzerider was just asking for trouble. B'nyur got himself into this mess by trying to shake B'rak out of the Flightlust, and now he had to be the responsible one by rejecting any... ah... appealing advances.

There was still a small, nagging worry in the back of B'nyur's mind. What was it? Oh, yes, the other dragon. Immediately, the Dragonhealer stopped worrying about petty things like lusty, intoxicated men and started to concern himself with the health of the other one Kalith had injured. He wished he could ask Fajra or Kalith what had happened, but it was sheer folly to approach a Queen who had just completed a mating flight. {Shanza, go check the area around the Weyr for any injured Kings or Sub-Kings}, he ordered the Copper firelizard. She obediently /between/ed, off to search. B'nyur could not know that she wouldn't find anything, as Abeneth had retreated a safe hiding place, where any firelizard was unlikely to check.

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"Mm...I imagine not." B'rak rumbled as he poked his head out of the room, glancing down the hallways curiously before whirling on one heel back into the room, "And no, it wasn't one of ours. Nope, nope, nope." Giving another strange giggle of a chuckle he wandered back towards B'nyur, seemingly fascinated by the side of the man's face as he leaned in, staring. "We keep track of all...uh.." He paused, gaze lifting to stare blankly above the man's head, "....the uh....oh. Newcomers."

He gave a shrug and trailed after B'nyur, leaning far over to smugly stare at the healer's backside before coming up beside him, an arm looping around his shoulders, slumping with a hum.

"That's sad, you know." The dragon rider rumbled as he licked his lips, resting his chin lazily on the bluerider's shoulder, "You look like you'd be a lot of fun." Shoth snorted as B'rak chuckled and slid away, yawning as he plopped down on the floor, leaning against the couch and closing his eyes. The Bronze glanced at Oveth and merely rumbled his agreement before yawning as well.

"Let me know if you change your mind, alright, beautiful?"

[4horseshowgirl4]

Mine, what are you going to do? Oveth's quiet, urgently concerned voice inside B'nyur's head interrupted thoughts that were following similar lines. B'nyur began to pace, as though the slight physical activity would bring him more fruitful brainwaves than the ones he'd had already. {I honestly don't know, Oveth} the Healer said tersely, rubbing a palm up and down the stubble on his cheek as he said so. His worries were far from B'rak, no, no, they were concentrated on that downed dragon.

He was slightly startled when Shanza appeared back from /between/, chirping softly to get B'nyur's attention. He turned to her wordlessly and held out an arm, where she immediately landed. Before she'd had time to properly settle her wings against her side and catch her breath after the long flight (scanning the entire continent would sap at any Queen's impressive endurance, much less a Queen firelizard's), the Dragonhealer was already probing her mind impatiently, demanding that she tell him what was going on.

Shanza glared at B'nyur reproachfully. She was a Queen, after all, and she wasn't going to be bossed around like that Blue! B'nyur rolled his eyes in frustration but forced himself to soften, to relax, and he quietly murmured to the firelizard, "Now, pretty girl, daughter of Rukbat itself, won't you be the most valued firelizard on Pern and help us figure this out?" Shanza feigned indifference for a moment longer before she was won over by the flattery. She did want to help, after all; she wanted credit for what she knew. Instantly, a barrage of images hit B'nyur's mind, like he'd suddenly stepped in front of a stampede of startled herdbeasts, but they were all the same: desolate, forsaken landscapes, barren of any dragon life.

B'nyur sighed as he stroked Shanza's head gratefully. It was not the definite answer for which he'd been looking, but it was adequate enough. "Thanks, Shanza, sweet," he murmured affectionately again before the firelizard gracefully leaped off of his arm to perch once again on one of the high shelves. {Well, Oveth, it seems that the dragon is either well-hidden or he managed to get back to his own Weyr.} And you won't try to find him? What if he's hurt? Oveth replied, still uneasy. {If Shanza can't find him, I don't see why we'd be able to. He could be anywhere. Besides, his Own knows about it, at least, and all Weyrlings had to learn some basic Dragonhealing. If he's no worse than Shoth and avoids infection, he'll be fine.} Oveth seemed satisfied by that answer, and he said no more. His knew best; his overwhelming desire to rush out and save the other dragon was somewhat assuaged.

B'nyur turned back to B'rak, who was being no better than an annoyance at the moment. Truth be told, B'nyur wasn't unattracted to the Bronzerider, but B'rak was being rather... obnoxious and clingy about his advances. Inwardly, B'nyur groaned in frustration. Dealing with one injured dragon and the possibility that another was wounded as well was bad enough, but having to convince a drunk man that he didn't want to spend a night in the other's bed just took the cake. What was he to do in a situation like this, anyway? He searched his mind and came up with nothing. It was usually the young women that were taught how to ward off unwelcome advances, not the men. Though, considering Dalibor's large population of, ah... how could he put this kindly?... eager gay men, those lessons were probably necessary for the boys, too.

As B'nyur was debating how to rid himself of this idiot while not upsetting him, B'rak got off of his shoulder. Thank Faranth! he said to himself, and was rather dismayed to hear Oveth rumble quietly in amusement. B'nyur glared at the Blue-- whose side was he on? I'm sorry, YurMine! Oveth said cheerily, as though there was nothing wrong with laughing at His's misfortunes. But it's funny from where I'm standing! Despite himself, B'nyur had to reluctantly agree. This would all be pretty funny tomorrow, but, at the moment, B'nyur didn't feel the slightest lick of amusement.

Fortunately, it seemed that the wine was finally making B'rak drowsy. Shoth needed to rest, too. B'nyur was not entirely sure that the wounds would stay uninfected, so, stifling a yawn, he lumbered forward to soak another rag in the redwort solution and wipe it over Shoth's wounds before covering them with another, clean bandage, now that the ichor had stilled its flow. He was nearly ready to turn in himself.

With his patient tended and near sleep, B'nyur was satisfied enough with the job he'd done. "Shoth, you're healing better than I thought you would. Oveth and I will be sleeping in our weyr. If you need anything, bespeak Oveth." What B'nyur didn't mention was that sleeping alone in an infirmary with B'rak did not exactly sound appealing at the moment. He nodded at the two and walked out, Shanza gliding off of her ledge to land lightly on his shoulder. B'nyur straddled Oveth and they made the short flight to their weyr, done for the day.

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