Logs:A bit of knowhow
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| RL Date: 21 December, 2013 |
| Who: D'kan, Edyis, Leova |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: D'kan encounters Leova imparting dragonhealing knowledge to Edyis. Mindhealing is suggested. |
| Where: Dragon Infirmary |
| When: Day 4, Month 8, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Alida/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: If I forgot anything feel free to correct. |
| Logfile from Norcon (Edyis) Log opened 22/12/2013 - 05:26:41 Dragon Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr The vast cavern has much the same odor of redwort and numbweed as the human infirmary, though here it's seasoned with coppery ichor rather than the iron of blood. It's also laid out similarly though on a much more massive scale, its walls lined with a number of places for patients, in this case large dragon couches recessed into the floor for ease of access; nearby cots provide space for riders. Tucked into the western curve is a huge circulating pool of warm water, by which are kept vats of oil. The healers' duty station is a counter on the north side of the room, a checkpoint before the storage rooms behind it that are now shared with the human infirmary, hosting supplies that are as neatly labeled and carefully scrubbed as the rest of the infirmary. The senior dragonhealer has an office there as well, and human-sized double doors have recently been built as a direct route to the human infirmary, while opposite a wide winding tunnel leads to the east bowl. Lunchtime, and Edyis is expected. Leova's pulled a couple of stools up to the pull-down stable, but the recordskeeper's responsible for her own meal. The dragonhealer's got fruit and cheese, bread and jerky, and a tall glass of weak ale to wash it down with. Otherwise, the dragon infirmary is quiet: no patients, no other dragonhealers, just Leova. It is perhaps fortunate that Edyis has learned to eat and run, because she'd be late for her lesson with Leova otherwise. After delivering lunch to the records room, she had managed to stuff a meat roll in her mouth (possibly two or three more in her apron pockets) and grab a glass of juice as she darted down the caverns, now becoming quite adept at avoiding collisions at full speed in the corridors, her satchel with journals and study materials slung across one shoulder over her neck, notebook in arm. "Mffello Lvffa" She attempts to say before setting the juice down and grabbing the meat roll. "Sorry, Hello Leova - I hope I'm not late?" "Doing all right. Sit down, show me what you've got since last time," Leova says mildly, though amusement's lurking in those amber eyes. She gets back to working on the jerky, with an eye for the glass should it need her to rescue it. So far it's just been a matter of drawing, of filling out diagrams and mentioning how much this or that might be expected to vary from what's shown, such as wider or narrower wings: nothing live yet. Leova's powers of juice rescue are unparalleled. Bite - chew - swallow, the last of the meat roll vanishes as that bag is slung over her chair and the notebook set down before she fishes two more out of her bags. She pulls the rolls from her pockets and sets them next to the juice so as to not squish them in her apron. "These are the new ones, " Between bites, opening one of the volumes, it may be the one that includes the sketches of Lythronath eating, "Along with some live studies I've been practicing of weyrlings." At a safe distance on the other side of a fence. She pushes over the second volume - "That one, is the finals from the ones you corrected for me." Hopefully no mistakes and the third upon perusal is merely an additional copy of the second. "Should you look at my notebooks," Leova says just as mildly as before, "Trust you won't be eating at the same time." Edyis' own, though, those seem to be all right. So do the sketches themselves, if the way she considers them is evidence. Lythronath's, included. She wipes her hands and settles in to go through them. But meanwhile, "What experience did you have with dragons, or firelizards, before coming here? If any. Watching from afar counts." "Watching riders do sweeps, and handing off the mail to them. That's about it. I saw more of firelizards at gathers, with people trying to sell tunnel snake eggs claiming them to be a fire lizard's." She was never really one of those starry eyed kids who dreamed of flying far away. The last of the meat rolls vanish and fingers are wiped on that kaleidoscopic apron before the juice glass is drained almost instantly. "Yes Ma'am," for the eating and perusing. "How do you know they were tunnelsnake eggs?" Leova asks, matter-of-fact. "Did you see them hatch? Hope you realize, too, they need training. Don't exactly hatch being useful and not pests." She doesn't look up as she works, turning the pages at a steady rate except for a pause here and there. "Well my brother bought one once when he was visiting. It was quite funny to see the look on his face." She admits of tunnelsnakes. "Is there a way to tell them apart by looking?" Edyis asks, sitting at the counter with Leova and her dragonhealing notes. The young Nabolese woman eager to soak up the greenrider's wisdom, it's about lunch time or a close approximation thereof if the empty juice glass on the table. Fortunately the place is almost empty. "Mm. Tunnelsnakes, they're more oval, smaller. Though green eggs, they can get pretty small. Mostly only get blues and greens from those, don't know if you've heard." Leova goes back to a few diagrams for which she'd used fingers as a bookmark, minor notes here and there, some of them even praise: for improvements, mostly. "And the training, you up for that? You'd think feeding wouldn't be so hard around here, not with the pens, flights as common as they are. But still I get people coming in, complaining how they're woken up mornings, and is there a way to give the firelizard back." D'kan strides in from the direction of the bowl, originally angling toward the infirmary. When he spots Leova and Edyis, though, he changes direction, casually nodding to the Nabol girl before saluting the dragonhealer. "You two looked deep in thought," he observes, possibly exaggerating. "Everything all right?" She frowns at that. "I don't think it will be a problem, can't be any worse than waking up by having your hair pulled by a four turn old boy. I imagine like dragons they eventually learn to feed themselves. Training is the part I'm not sure on, I don't really know much about training dogs - a little about runners and I don't know how much of what applies either way. I hopefully have time to learn since I am not entirely sure I'll get one any time in the immediate future." She turns to offer a smile to the rider striding in. "Quite alright, just editing a treatise on dragonhealing and the care and training of firelizards." "Mm. Boys can't, generally, go between. Boys can, often, be foisted off on others. And cooks don't like it when 'feed themselves' turns into stealing scraps, hm? As for runners..." the greenrider's got a wry, one-shouldered shrug that somehow carries a diffident quality. The girl's greeting has Leova turning, too, greeting her wingmate with a long look and her own quick, if brief, smile. "Reckon I should ask you the same. What's going on?" "Ah," D'kan replies quietly to Edyis, gaze falling to her shoulder briefly. "Are you a Harper?" It's a politely curious question, going by the tone. "Firelizards, huh? Never gave them a lot of thought. Kazavoth seems to like them, though." At Leova's first words, D'kan's frowns sharply, clearly walking in at the wrong part of a conversation. "Wait, who's going Between, now? And... nothing. Just passing by. Thought I'd say hello." There is an arch of her brow, "I generally thought feed themselves to mean hunting or fishing on their own, clearly a point I should re-think." Then again thinking about it, she hadn't considered any of that necessarily before standing either. "Hardly, though perhaps by turns end Master Jeroman will let me test and see if I have what it takes to be a scribe. I'm Edyis - Assistant Records keeper." She grins wry, at the brownrider. "And thank heavens that little brothers can't between, otherwise the pantry would always have been empty." She peers about as though suddenly wary that Kazavoth might appear. "One should be manageable though, I mean they certainly aren't as big as dragons, how do you keep them from between though?" "Hello," Leova says, deadpan. To D'kan, "Edyis, she's gotten so she's spending some lunchtimes learning with me. She was a Nabol girl," in case it isn't evident by the girl's accent. "And afflicted with at least one brother who thinks hair-pulling is a way to wake up his big sister. Edyis: D'kan, who rides with me in Glacier. Brown Kazavoth's. One of the, hm, more helpful helpers of Nabol." Particularly compared to the majority of Glacier that is not. "And so far as I know, there's no keeping them from between. Heard of any, D'kan? Don't know whether you've got one of your own." D'kan continues to split a confused look between Leova and Edyis as far as the topic of Between is concerned. But the other bit is easier. "Kaz and I helped replant some of the fields," he explains to Edyis. "It's not a lot, but Kazavoth has turned out to be really good at hauling big, heavy things. So..." He trails off lamely, then smiles. "So that's what we do. Azaylia and Hraedhyth have been doing the same. Though... less Hrae. I'm... not sure what she does." Other than look big and ferocious. "Pleasure meeting you, Edyis. You're training her to be a dragonhealer?" he asks Leova curiously. Edyis' smile warms considerably at mention of helping Nabol, and she studies the brownrider more intently grin wide. "I thank you for the efforts, it may not seem like much, but it means volumes D'kan," even if the Nabolese don't always show their gratitude. As for between she frowns again, clearly she's not venturing south for one anytime soon, too many unknowns, "Then it sounds like I will be infringing upon your lunches for a long time before I consider trying the beaches in the warmer climates. Alida was generally vague on the how to of training them." She admits, then again this is the same girl who produced two copies of the same notebook in order to absorb the information better, never enough information to satisfy her. "Giving her some knowhow," is what Leova says to D'kan, after the simple nod that acknowledges what Edyis has to relate. "Not formal training as yet. Thought once upon a time, actually, you might be interested yourself." She considers the brownrider, amber eyes speculative, and then closes the notebook closest to her with an air of finality. D'kan regards Leova for a moment, then smiles softly, shrugging. "Doesn't really seem to be Kaz's thing, and what's half a dragonhealer pair?" he murmurs before turning back to Edyis. "Have you considered just... going for it? I mean, it's not like all the parents in the world read up before having their first kid. What's the worst that could happen?" Perhaps he's catching on to the gist of the conversation now. "Mm. Ask Vrianth." But that finality might be explained by the other, elderly rider who hobbles in from the Bowl, the arm that doesn't have a cane raised to get Leova's attention for her green out in the Bowl. "I need to get this. Edyis, we'll talk more next time," and her wave to D'kan suggests a more casual 'see you at drills.' The dragonhealer's not tall, but her strides are long and fast. The young woman opens her mouth to answer D'kan, then closes it, perhaps reconsidering her words. Gently, "I am not the sort of person who normally does things without thinking very carefully about the consequences." Though perhaps they still catch up with her in unexpected ways regardless, Leova gets a smiling nod as she suddenly departs, leaving her attention focused solely on the brownrider. She collects two of the journals tucking them back into her bag, though reopens the one that Leova had closed studying the editing marks absently. "The worst thing that could happen is I end up accidentally killing the poor creature." "Not likely," D'kan counters with another small frown, this one thoughtful. "I mean... they're instinctual. Unless you scare it into betweening int a rock or something..." Then again, best not think about stuff like that. He glances toward the infirmary, then the bowl where Leova's gone, then back to the girl from Nabol. "So... have you been here since... you know. All the... stuff?" Eloquent as always. "Since I arrived to stand, yes - I haven't really had a chance to visit home since things settled out." She grimaces at the thought of a creature emerging from between trapped inside a rock. "That would be terrible. I've heard stories that it's happened to weyrlings." She studies him, thoughtful. "What about you? How long have you been here or were you a rider born and bred?" D'kan nods, confirming the stories, but doesn't dwell on it. "Nah, I'm from High Reaches Hold. Came here..." He trails off, frowning again. "Man, I guess maybe three Turns ago. A little longer. Haven't thought about it in a while." He rubs the palm of one hand over a redwort stained scratch on the back of his other hand. Nothing serious. Just that healing itch. He studies Edyis for a long moment before asking, "What do you think of the Weyr?" She may actually smile at the fact that he came from a hold before he impressed. "If you rub that it will only itch worse." She points out when she notices the palm rubbing, she takes a moment before answering his question. "It's new and exciting but at the same time, I often feel out of place - like I'm trying to force a key in a lock that it doesn't quite fit. I think maybe everyone feels that way at some point though." "Not if I go to the infirmary after this," D'kan counters with a small half smile. He does stop rubbing it, though, instead shoving both hands in the pockets of his riding jacket. "Yeah, sounds about right. It does get better, but only with time. And only if you're willing to adapt." He gnaws at his lower lip gently, eyes focusing on those notebooks for a moment. "Can I ask, if you were here to stand, why did you stay on? Why not go back? I only ask, because had Kaz not found me... probably would've left, myself." Poor healers, she chuckles at his reasoning. The question catches her a bit off guard. "Originally it was a way to move forward, then as time went on I got to enjoy some of the freedoms, like being able to study whatever I want to study. I keep thinking that if I stay, if I make myself a part of this place then maybe there will be more to life than babies Gathers and Conclaves. " Her own lip is tugged between her teeth. "That maybe I might make a life of my own choosing built on my own merits. You know?" D'kan nods a few times, gathering in the information, sorting it, studying it. "Then again, there are plenty of people here in the Weyr who seem to live for those. But... as you say. Of their own choosing." He shrugs slightly, then grins, boots scuffing as he changes position slightly. "All right, so... what kind of life is it you're choosing? Other than studying things?" Edyis grins a truly mischievous grin. "That's the fun part, I get to discover it as I go along. I will be sure to let you know though when I figure it out. So far, one filled with adventure and a whole lot of getting used to things that make me nervous." Her chin tilts, dark eyes studying him. "What about you? What kind of life have you chosen, I'm always curious to ask riders who seem so crazy about dragons what it's like. Personally I'm always afraid I might end up stepped on." "Are all riders crazy about dragons?" D'kan asks. It might be a tease, except his expression never changes. "Does that mean the dragons make you nervous?" He shrugs, but only to resettle his jacket a little better. "Most dragons are pretty conscientious about where they place their feet. If it helps at all." "You'd be nervous around them too if you had seen Lythronath eat." Sh "You'd be nervous around them too if you had seen Lythronath eat." She replies solemnly, though there's just a twitch of a smile. "Seems like they must be to devote their lives to them, I've heard impressing described with such language that makes it seem so desirable and yet I just can't wrap my head around them." Dragons she must mean. "It does help, I got to ride on Hraedhyth, though my eyes were squeezed shut and I may have been clinging to the straps and her neck ridges for dear life, despite the fact that it was a very calm flight. I want to get used to them, but it's probably a very good thing that I didn't impress this time." She smiles with a nose scrunch. "Weren't you happy to be chosen?" D'kan scrubs a hand over his head, messing up his helmet hair before getting it into something a little more orderly. "Hunting is just one of those things," he starts to reply before Edyis continues. "Ah. Well... there's no choice, really." He removes his hands from his jacket pockets and studies his cut hand idly. "It's a permanent link whether you want it or not. Which is why they drill candidates so much," he continues, turning his attention back to the teen. "Making sure it's something you actually want." He rubs away some of the excess redwort stain for a moment. "'This time,' you said. Meaning you'll keep standing? And sure I was," he answers, smiling slightly as he glances toward the bowl, where a dark, speckled brown just might be watching them, waiting ever so patiently. "Just hadn't expected it to actually happen. And then with Kaz... he's kind of... weird." And yet, he says it with such a fond note to his voice. "I don't know, it's such a big decision isn't it? Part of me is curious to know, to understand what all the fuss is about. The sensible part thinks I should leave it to those suited to gallivanting about the world with nothing between them and a plummeting death except a very thin pair of membranous wings," equal parts excitement and terror. "What did you do to your hand?" She asks as the perhaps absent motions of the hands draw her attention to it, and that seems to draw more attention than the curiosity at how Kaz is weird. "This time, D'kan's frown is a concerned one, as he fixes Edyis with a flat look. "This is going to come across wrong, I know, but you sound like you're afraid of a lot of things. Might be worth finding a mindhealer. I know," he adds quickly, holding out a hand to forestall any potential objection, "people like to equate that with, 'Well Farnath, you're some crazy person, aren't you?' But that's not what I mean. Doesn't make sense, anyway." The offending hand is stuffed into a jacket pocket again. "Just... they really can help with stuff like that. I mean, I guess that's part of the educating yourself part, but... learning more about dragons might help, too. They're not going to drop you." There is an arch of her brows at the suggestion. "I suppose I have the marks for it. Then again, maybe they would tell me to handle it the way I've been handling it. Which is to face the things that bother me head on until there's nothing to be afraid of?" The offending hand is studied again, and a mixture of concern and curiosity overcomes her. "I take it you've had experience with them?" The words carry no judgment. D'kan gives Edyis a long, weighing sort of look before he shakes his head, either answering a silent "no" to her question, or refusing to answer. He does not clarify. "I should probably get going," he says instead, nodding toward the infirmary. "There's still half a day left, with a lot more to cram into it. Pleasure meeting you, Edyis." He holds out a hand to shake. Luckily it is not the cut one. Edyis just smiles, warmly in reply. "It really was a pleasure meeting you as well. We should talk more some time." She may watch as he departs pondering over the encounter, and may still take her time on the way back to the records room. |
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