Logs:Maternal Care
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| RL Date: 5 March, 2015 |
| Who: Irianke, Leova |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Leova checks up on Niahvth from a dragonhealing standpoint. Brief mention of bloodlines. |
| Where: Dragon Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 3, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: ceaseless rain |
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>---< 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.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Irianke F 36 5'7" slender, dark curly hair, stone blue eyes 0s
Leova F 44 5'5" hourglass, rusty hair, amber eyes 1m
----------------------------------< Exits >---------------------------------
Bowl Infirmary
>------------------------------------------< 5D 3M 37T I10, winter night >---< Prearrangement means the klah is hot, the cream cool, the sky more grey than black... but there's nothing to be done about the ceaseless rain. The cavern is empty except for the two dragonhealers, Leova and U'sot. The latter reintroduces himself and stays as courtesy, while the former is the one who carries the slate for notes, who mentions as the Igen pair enters that Niahvth is welcome to the warm waters, if she likes. It's not deep by a full-grown queen's scale, but at least it's not cold. Niahvth, never a graceful dragon even when not egg heavy, definitely fits the definition of lumbering now, her gait uneven and her belly hanging low as she enters with her rider. The introductions are given their due attention, but it'd be a lie to say Irianke isn't distracted and attentive to her dragon's needs, even going so far as to walk her to that warm pool and watching her sink herself down. "The temperature won't be bad for her clutch, will it? I know when I was pregnant, the healers advised I don't sit in the hot springs." The younger dragonhealer's quick, certain headshake is, even so, followed by listening. By reminiscing, rueful. "Ours too," Leova agrees for the last. She glances at U'sot, who looks amused and leaves the women to it. As the old bluerider ambles his way off, she adds rather fondly, "He'd be more interested if she had a fresh Threadscore. Anyhow. It's not so hot as the hot springs. Even if it were... they'll handle the sands, hm? Better than we do. It's good for their circulation, especially wintertime." Her voice is quiet, with an upwelling of warmth much as the water might buoy. "True," says the goldrider of the sands, but then points out, "But that's after the eggs have clutched. Or while they clutch. Still," Irianke looks back to the springs, then to Leova, then to the departing U'sot. "I missed flying the Comet Pass by seven turns and between the two of us," she confides with an amused draw of her brows, "I'm sad for it. Thrilling, dangerous. Honorable. What harper coined the phrase, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times?" "Even so," Leova says amiably. She regards Niahvth more than U'sot, more even than Niahvth's rider, more even than how Niahvth's rider tends to her queen: how she moves, any difficulty or hitch, how at ease she appears to feel. It doesn't mean she doesn't listen, that there's no upturn to one corner to her mouth. "Seven turns, so close. It did keep the harpers busy... have you riders in your blood, or did you see 'the saviors of Pern on high'?" "We hid." Irianke turns, once it appears this meeting won't be too formal and sinks down to crouch. Her hands lap water up along the gold's sides. Not high enough to make any kind of difference, but then it seems it was just a wet placeholder for her hands to run along, easing a particularly lumpy patch of hide. "Trader stock and without reliable charts to go by, we wintered where they allowed us. I was fifteen when it finally ended and it was another turn or two before our family felt safe enough to travel again. Lost a lot of business and connections. Lost a lot of marks. You?" Hid. Leova's head turns, not far. "Lots of plans changed," she recognizes, sympathizes. "Out Igen way? Hold-raised, myself," the ease of her intonation making it lower-case if not lower-caste. "Tillek. So, not far. Always an event when the traders came by. ...We've salve for her, after, too." Niahvth, silent thus far while the humans speak, shifts so that her hide pushes into her rider's hands, nudging it towards a spot and practically purrs. It is a deep guttural sound of vibrating satisfaction. Low words, spoken in an intonation and seeming language that's unintelligible. The smile Irianke has for her dragon alone can be seen in the careful way she tends to Niahvth, even if she faces golden hide rather than Leova. "She'd appreciate that. Thank you." "Pleasure." It is. If there's also electric movement, Vrianth keeps it to her rider. Musingly, "Wouldn't be a surprise if she took to a change in put-up, the weather so different and all." Might be a surprise if she doesn't. "If there's a particular infusion you want mixed in, if you have the recipe, likely we can concoct it. Or mix it in if you've got that. Sometimes, think they like the changes for the changes they can have on us." "Let's start with what you use here, and then we'll work backwards from there." Irianke suggests. "Based on how she feels." She rises, her hand rising with her to rest on the gold's side, patting it a few times and then bringing her hands up so her arms fold over her chest. "Does High Reaches generally check on the welfare of all dragons? Dragons who are about to clutch?" It's a hanging unspoken thought, tangible there, for a half beat, up to the moment she utters aloud, balancing it out with a rueful, acknowledging smile, "Or is this specially for the bloodlines we bring here?" "Deal." On how Niahvth feels, not before. Amber eyes consider the other woman, thoughtful. Leova says, "We do, aye. Won't say she doesn't get particular attention, mind," and there's her slow, definite smile. "Given the givens. Soon to clutch. No real baseline. Has she been pretty consistent with her clutches, would you say? How she deals with them. What helps. How hard it gets near the end. Anything you want us to anticipate?" Irianke just stares at Leova. Stares. There's a pin drop silence where lapping water and the steady, very audible, breath Niahvth exhales, heard. Then there's laughter. "You, my friend, are intense. We should have done this over a glass, no, a bottle of wine." The crossed arms slip and she reaches across to clasp the greenrider's upper arm. "Niahvth appreciates your concern and questions. She's reprimanding me quite soundly for reacting in such a rude fashion. You'll forgive me, of course." She assumes forgiveness is a done deal. Leova suffers the touch, eyes widening ever so slightly before, with her own exhalation, she recalls a smile. It's tilted slightly more at one corner than the other, but smiling makes it so. "Red or white? I know a fellow." Who has wines. Her gaze veers to Niahvth, checking in, before her rider. "Might need to lay in another for later," might even have humor. "Niahvth endures pregnancy much like you'd expect. Both doting and dissatisfied, privately emotional, uncomfortable and yet pleased. The contrasts in her personalities is enough to drive any sane person mad and well," Irianke's shrug is graceful and gracious of, not only, the situation her dragon is in, but her own position at the Weyr. "They say that any goldrider who survives Nimae's training can't be sane." Gray-blue eyes twinkle in their regard of Leova. "Let me take a sun check on that wine," it raining right now after all, "And leave you to finish examining my dragon? I have a meeting that I can no longer delay with the ranking herders here and I," she pauses, a look traveling up Niahvth's side, "Trust you with her." "Mm." Appreciation: for the information, for the brevity, for the human-ness, for the understanding. For the contrasts. For the famiiarity. Leova hasn't apparent regard or disregard for the rumors, tough perhaps it's just not her side of the aisle. Rather, "'Sun check.'" Another smile, this one full three-quarters. Trust: less smile than seriousness. "Good day." Good luck? Regardless, she'll keep Niahvth company, get a better look at her in all her dimensions besides. Whatever further questions she might have for Irianke can wait. |
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