Logs:Tune Up & Oil Change
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| RL Date: 18 September, 2013 |
| Who: Aishani, Leova, Iesaryth, Vrianth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Iesaryth gets checked up post-flight. |
| Where: Dragon Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 11, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Oriane/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Meara/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: The title is my cheesy joke. |
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| Outside, High Reaches' skies are all but clear, the air cool with the incipient nip of a breeze. Inside the dragon infirmary, there's a stench. Even just before Aishani and Iesaryth are due, Leova's still gloved up and wrist-deep in dragon, the old brown's rider biting at his own mustache in an effort to keep him settled. It's been a while, but finally she says briskly, "I think that's it." Clear skies and cool breeze do much to help with the matter of smell, but they can't do everything; even even-tempered Iesaryth must pause in her slow lumbering entrance into the infirmary, because that doesn't seem good. The queen does send a cool wash of ocean tides the brown's way for the discomfort, trying to hide any of her distaste. Her rider is not so good about that, lingering off to the side, finding a scarf to cover her face if need be. Ew. No wonder this particular immaculately-dressed goldrider has little interest in dragonhealing. While the relief isn't immediate, it's close, the brown relaxing under the dragonhealer's hands with his eyes becoming glazed. He shows no signs of noticing her distaste, but there's a spark of not-at-all-disagreeing recognition from Vrianth, perched atop that ledge above the entrance. At least the emotional air, too, has begun to clear. "Thanks," calls Leova with a glance over to queen and rider, while the brownrider at least stops looking quite so shaky. "Won't take much longer." Indeed, it's a simpler, swifter process to irrigate the abscess, pack it, and send the other pair on their way... if still neither simple nor swift as anyone might like. Once the greenrider's off her ladder and washed up, she says, "Sorry about that. One of our trainees missed the problem, and it got bad." But. "How are you?" Iesaryth has a rumble for Leova's gratitude, a sparkle on the water for that spark; she does what she can. It's likely that Aishani doesn't have as much to do with it as the gold herself, blessed with both compassion and manners that her rider is sometimes lacking -- though the less-shaky brownrider gets a glance, a sympathetic purse of lips before, "I'm in no hurry." Where do they need to go? Everyone's likely relieved once it's over, and Iesaryth is much more interested in coming in to greet Leova properly after the rotting smell has started to clear. "It's not an issue. I'm glad you caught it... and that she could help. You can always have Vrianth call her, you know." As for her own well-being, there's a bit of a shrug, though she seems pleased. With herself, with life in general. "Not all that bad, really. I had a bit of a bump back here--" She touches a spot at the side of her head gingerly. "But you should see the other guy." "I heard," Leova says wryly. "'Least the dragon chasers are back in the swing of things. Doing all right now, not more headaches?" Not that she's a human healer. But. She takes up her slate and walks over to join the other pair, her eyes more for Iesaryth now. "Maybe I will call you in even more, then. Although," she has a one-cornered grin for the gold's rider before resuming circling about the queen. "Got to admit, when I saw what was up, I just wanted to get it out. Though I'll spare you a description of the geyser." "Men are such children. They can punch and stab each other, but if a girl does it, all of a sudden it's some tragedy. If I were a boy, they'd just chalk it up to a flight, have a beer ad be done with it." Maybe that's not entirely true, but at least some of the time it is -- and it suits Aishani's sense of persecution. "No headaches. I was a little dizzy for the day or so after, but I don't think any lasting damage. And I appreciate that, Leova. I really do." Her nose-wrinkle is delicate, but still, gross. "You look much better. Less tired." The greenrider's got a low chuckle for Aishani's summation, commiseration there too, and a quicker nod for the rest. "Reckon it's just as well that I don't carry a knife, those times. Don't know as I could count on it not going worse." She gauges the queen's wings, the line of her abdomen, murmuring to Iesaryth an explanation before she reaches up towards that same convex curve. "Glad it wasn't worse for you, either. Listen, get me a copy of the sire's lineage, will you? Want to cross-check it with our Records, make sure we've got it right. Anything notable, too." Wryly, "I gave the big one to Quinlys. Ought to get that back." Aishani purses her lips, considering Iesaryth as she gamely holds her wings up for inspection, as Leova should admire them, after all. She forbears with hands on her; unlike her rider, she doesn't lash out for being touched. "It didn't go worse because of her, I think. In some ways. I don't know how to manage that. I don't know when it'll happen, and it's not as if I feel comfortable without the knives anymore. And I could do that." A pause. "I should try to speak to Oriane, perhaps. It's been awhile." "Before a weyrling gets his hands on it," the onetime assistant weyrlingmaster, though never Quinlys' assistant weyrlingmaster, agrees. The way she touches the queen is purposeful but sensitive, and most of all competent: checking for any sore spots, any irregularities, both knowing what she's looking for and open to what she might not have thought of. Leova's got a nod for credit to Iesaryth as she works, another for the comfort of knives. In between, "Don't know how to manage which?" by way of not wanting to assume. And Oriane, mention of her gets a quick, thoughtful look too. Thoughtfully, "I don't think she locks that office, does she? I don't know. I don't think Meara did." Not that Aishani's saying she checked. The queen seems in fine health, but for her usual slight lack of tone just due to her laziness. She's lean and strong, but not due to any real effort on her part. As for managing, "How to hand over weaponry before the flight, so it's just before and not leaving me vulnerable for days. While I'm sleepy and lazy, besides." The look is noticed; she explains easily, "It's the best person for the records, and... it's been a while, I suppose. Perhaps the bridges aren't so burnt. It's worth checking." "Don't reckon she did either," Leova agrees. "Least, not with a clutch in the barracks." She gives the goldrider a considering look before moving on to Iesaryth's other side. "And not leaving it so late as you no longer want to give it up, hm? Tricky call. Wish they came with a countdown timer." As for Oriane, something clicks. "You were thinking I meant Leiventh? Meant the sire of those eggs she's in clutch with right now. Don't mean bridges aren't worth checking, though," she more mentions than suggests. She'll have some other things to check, noting along the way to keep an eye on Iesaryth's gums, but won't keep the other pair longer than what's necessary to earn the queen's clean bill of health. Aishani gives a sigh. "Wouldn't that make life easier to plan." Especially for Leova, her wry glance seems to say. Seeming a touch embarrassed for her mistake, "Oh. Right. That I can get from Hattie easily enough, though some will come from here anyway. I've just been... thinking about that lately." Oriane, and burnt bridges, apparently, though something about that doesn't quite ring true. Either way, she'll get what the dragonhealers need, and is pleased to hear that there shouldn't be an issue with the clutch to come. |
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