Difference between revisions of "Logs:Priorities and Possibilities"

An autumn fog hangs across High Reaches despite the lateness of the afternoon; clammy and cold, it has sent plenty of weyr denizens indoors wherever possible, to crowd in front of hearths. Madilla's job doesn't often take her outside, these days, now that she's travelling so much less, and perhaps that's how she's managed to get herself a prime spot in a cozy chair by the fire, her latest quilt project laid out upon her lap. There's a low buzz of conversation in the air, and the quiet clamour of spoons against ceramic, mug against mouth.

With very much the smell of outdoors clinging to her, one of Savannah's turns into the small cavern off the living cavern. It's not the bad sort of smell, faint for what it is, but woodsy, maybe even a bit of the beach. Though even after all this time, Keysi's skin tone is still pale as the cozy fire of the nighthearth reaches her. Her initial path, always with steps of purpose, always quick in pace, had been towards the pot of stew. However, grey eyes do something of a double-take- that brief cursory glance over the room, leading into a second first pulled by the quilt then directed to the one making it. "Masterhealer." Is it surprise? There's just the slightest of increased pitch to her otherwise controlled tone. There's a salute, of course, but she finishes her trek to at least claim a steaming mug of something to drink before circling back.

"Madilla," corrects the healer, but not without a warm smile-- and a sudden look of keen interest and approval. Perhaps it's because of that perhaps-surprise; perhaps there's something else on her mind as she secures her needle and reaches for the mug of klah beside her. "Come and sit. It's been an age since we spoke-- I want to hear how everything is going. You're with Savannah now, aren't you?"

The whisp of a smile turns the edge of Keysi's lips as she chooses and slides into one of the cushioned chairs, the mug cupped between both palms and a thumb hooked through the handle. Even before she's completely settled, the stormy intense gaze of hers watches Madilla for a long time, comfortable in a thoughtful silence that at times lasts a little too long. "It has been," A beat as the rider thinks back, "a very long time. The last time we spoke at length- before I even Stood." There's a stretch again as she considers, internalized in her thoughts, "Aye, ma'am. I never thought I'd appreciate playing games and.." There's a mild grimace which fleetingly upsets the stoniness of her face, "drinking- jovial things- until I joined them. I thought I'd seen a lot before I joined the Hall. Apparently there was a lot more." After the rambling, though paced it may have been, she shakes her head as if she'd said too much, "How have you been?"

Madilla's smile is pleased for that, although surely Keysi speaks of a world she knows little-to-nothing about. "I'm glad," she tells the brownrider. "Though I never doubted you would fall on your feet. I'm well. Our Craftmasters are allowing me to spend more time here, for the moment. Treinan-- you remember Treinan?-- has walked the tables and is working as my assistant, doing more of the visits to other Weyrs." She sets her mug down, reaching again for her needle.

Keysi nods in regards to Treinan, but on the talk of the Hall and of visiting the Weyrs, her attention shifts down to the steaming if still untouched liquid in her mug. The smile fades as she focuses on Madilla's words. "How much more time?" She starts and after a pause, "Has there been progress in regards to the relations?" Of healers and the Weyr, now that she's been so out of the loop. "I was talking to Faryn some days ago- she was once a herder apprentice-" She trails off for what that means, but concludes in fewer words, "It doesn't seem seamless on all fronts."

"It's not." Of this, at least, Madilla is sure. "The healers won't follow the path set by the herders, certainly. I've spent the past two turns of my life trying to make sure we understand each other better, and can work with each other; my intention is for us to improve relations, not make them more difficult. In fact..." she hesitates, those green eyes considering Keysi for a long time. "The Weyrwoman and I had a conversation about this, not so long ago."

"But that doesn't stop the smiths, tanners-" Keysi uncircles one hand from her mug to offer an abbreviated gesture, 'et cetera'. The reminder of all her efforts draw her intense observative look back to the masterhealer, with an agreeing and understanding nod, curious but more reserved now than she had been. "Does she feel like it's helped?" The question hedges what she means to ask, and after a quiet exhale, "Is there more that could be done? You've gone to great lengths-" The last is added a little more hurridly than the comments prior, "It's why I came to High Reaches in the first place."

Madilla pauses, needle hovering a few inches above her quilting as she works her way around to what it is she wishes to say. "The decision by the herders has brought forward a lot of things that, I think, were already in motion. That is to say..." She pauses again. "Irianke would like to see more riders who were crafters continue their studies. Not just dabble, but, actually learn and practice even if they are no longer entitled to craft rank. I imagine it all comes back to self-sufficiency for the Weyr, but also reassurance for the crafts that losing apprentices to Search doesn't mean losing them altogether." Beat. "I thought we healers would be an ideal place to start, given the work I've been assigned."

Keysi sits back in the chair, regarding Madilla's words more than her, though she studies her expression for a long moment as if she'd find something else there. "To truely practice a craft," She starts, but hesitates awkwardly. A shake of her head dismisses a thought before starting once again, "To practice means time devotion. A significant amount of time." There's nothing in her words that offers an opinion of whether that's a bad thing or not, "Healing-" Because it's that's the most familiar to both and the easiest to discuss for lack of other comparisons, "I considered and-" promised? she wouldn't word it that way, "will continue to practice it. But there are drills, sweeps, assignments. Does it not seem like a weighty commitment to pursue it in that degree, given it would perhaps necessarily still be done on the side?"

Madilla's nod confirms all of this, unhesitatingly. It's only at the end that she says, "I believe the idea is that some riders may practice their craft to the exclusion of other, more traditional activities. It's still-- the weyrwoman raised this with me before Niahvth's flight, and intended to wait until after to raise it with her Weyrleader." She lets that hang for a moment, time enough for the dots to be connected: K'del hasn't been brought in yet, or so the healer assumes. "I can't imagine your new wingleader wouldn't allow you to make time, though, if you asked. If you wished to... take up formal classes, at the hall. Or in whatever form it ends up being." There's at least half a question in there.

"The exclusion." Keysi echoes, having either not considered it in that light or had but didn't desire to toy with the concept until now. Pale eyes unfocus from the masterhealer, looking beyond her at the devulsion of that information. Eventually, the young rider offers cautiously, "I knew multiple candidates whose main concerns were having to forsake their Crafts to be able to pursue a chance at Impression. I was among them." Though, there's no evidence of regret there, "It sounds like it would circumvent that hesitation." A bonus for both sides, she implies, "But as K'del- as others- told me, some crafts mesh better than others. It may start as simply," the word hangs as if she knows it's not-so, "as that, but surely it would progress from there?"

Again, Madilla secures her needle, and again, she reaches for her mug, this time with the aim of cradling it between both hands as she considers Keysi's words. "Few things stay simple," she agrees. "I imagine there are a lot of details that... will be more complicated. There are, of course, the dragons themselves to think of; I know Vrianth struggles with Leova's dragonhealing. But-- we've already seen that the Interval can be difficult for Weyrs. I don't believe the healers will be removing permission for Search any time soon, but that doesn't mean I don't think it would be wise for the Weyr to make the most of the talents and skills available."

"And my wingleader," Keysi backtracks, "Sometimes assigns tasks that will require days away. I imagine other wings may be similar." The latter is added as if necessary, "It sounds like it would come down to a choice." The brownrider takes a long drink from her mug, if only to buy her moments for thought. "The Halls are guaranteed to keep their apprentices- tabs on them, their profits, their skills- after Impression. Or the Weyr starts to collect their own array of skilled riders." Of the consequences of that, she seems to keep to herself, but she doesn't seem utterly dismissive of the thought as a whole. There is a reservation, a clear one, that maintains a tension to her shoulders that isn't yet given voice.

"I suspect," Madilla says, after a long moment, "that it would be the latter arrangement, and not the former. It would be to the benefit of the Weyrs to be... self-sufficient in this, at least." But she's not been a healer all these turns without being able to read body language, and so she waits, watchful, her expression quietly encouraging of whatever else the rider across from her might have to add.

"Do you think the other masters would find that.." An uncomfortable search for a word leaves her only with, "good?" A terrible word choice, the mild grimace that skews her face decides afterwards, "Would it be beneficial to them to not have to send more of their own people to Weyrs?" There's more and more than goes unsaid, and Keysi makes that obvious by cutting off her statements relatively sharply. Madilla's read on her makes her draw her look back up to study her again in turn, steady but in the same manner a hint of guilt, "I had intention to pursue healing with that degree of fervor." She takes a breath, "I don't wish to leave it behind. I told K'del I wouldn't. But I can do more. I don't want to be pulled from my wing because I can heal."

Madilla's mouth opens, just slightly; just enough for an exhale that is nonetheless not much like a sigh. "You don't want to be pigeon-holed," she concluded. "No, I understand that. I think... I think there's still room for all of the above. For those who want to focus wholly on their craft skills; for those who can turn their craft skills into something they practice as a rider. You're lucky; your skills can aid your work, without being the focus of it. But," she smiles, now, both rueful and cheerful. "I think that simply means there's more to be thought about. In the short term... would resuming classes, to refresh your skills, be something you would be interested in? As the rest of your schedule permits? I don't need commitment, just... whether I should raise the possibility." Beat. "You won't be the only person I ask, so don't be afraid to say no."

The tension appears portionally alleviated by Madilla's assessment, understanding. Keysi is quiet through most of it, waiting until she's said everything before she determines her next reply. And even that, even without commitment, she seems to consider it thoroughly. Thinking, overthinking. While she doesn't give everything she internalizes, she appears to speak openly when she finally does speak, "I would." It starts brief, but she continues on after that acceptance is given with a release of a sigh, "I stopped studying during weyrlinghood, and I feel rusty. But if anything, what happened at Greenfields-" She shrugs lightly, a lopsided thing, "It's necessary. Having riders with more skills would be priceless in the field." Her pale eyes fall to Madilla's quilt, following the pattern absently, "But it will be a test to see what I can do with my time." And not let anyone down. She refocuses on the masterhealer, "There's priorities... especially right now."

"Understood," is Madilla's reply, gentle and very quiet, though it's obvious too that she's pleased by it. "No dragonrider can ever devote themselves to a craft the way a non-dragonrider can; I think that's the absolute core of this, and why none of this will result in craft rank. But there are different ways to practice a craft, and..." She inclines her head towards Keysi. "I will float the possibility. We'll see if there's some way to make it work; for you, for the Weyr, for the Hall. Are..." Madilla hesitates; swallows. "Has anything been discovered, about what happened to K'del?"

"This could be very sensitive." Keysi's stern but level voice notes, quieter, with another thought she desires to add. "And it's not my wish to help create such a non-traditional road that it burns bridges that can't be built again." There's a caution there- is it her place to say such a thing to the masterhealer? "I still have my notes. Picking up where I left off will not be difficult." She amends, given the open door that could be provided. To Madilla's concerned curiosity, there's a shake of her head, a faint and brief grimace of something akin to an unspoken apology. "Not yet." seems earnest, though her expression is hidden briefly by the final drink she takes from her mug. "There's no short of people looking though." A beat, "It was hard to see him that way." Is her way of saying she's more than just glad he's alive.

In Madilla's response, there's no censure; only the slow nod of understanding, and the wry smile that acknowledges all that Keysi has to say. "In a hundred and fifty turns, any changes such as these will need to be rolled back, all tradition resumed," she says. "But until then, we have to make things work, some way or another." For K'del, she's less pleased, though this is plainly not aimed at Keysi, so much as the situation. "The poor man," is what she says. And, "It must help, at least, to know that he will recover, and will return."

"You make that sound easy." Keysi is slightly amused by the concept of 'roll back', her intensity lightening a touch or two even if it's really not that funny. "Have you gone to see him? I only spoke to him, not to his healers." Two very different things that, of course. The patient's word against the medicine.

"I wish it were," acknowledges Madilla, with a wry laugh, as her needle resumes its slow progress through her quilt. "Wave your hand, click your fingers, and everyone's ready for things to change-- but it will be one in many steps, I think. There's change for everyone, as you approach the Pass, and at least that means it's not focused on one thing alone." Of K'del, she shakes her head. "No. I thought to, but-- I have to be careful with my travel, at the moment, and unfortunately, there have been other priorities. I'm reliably informed, however, that he'll make a full recovery."

Keysi nods, conveying both agreement and understanding in the brief notion. "There always are." Her level voice gives on the note of priorities. "I should get back to mine, master- Madilla." She corrects as she stands, the faint suggestion of a smile coming and going in the time it takes for her to offer a salute of her intended departure. "I appreciate the consideration." Too formal, but she seems more comfortable in saying it as such, "And whatever comes of it, I assure won't be for lack of trying."

Madilla's smile, in reply, is warm and bright and utterly genuine. "Thank you for your time, Keysi, and your thoughts. I appreciate it. Do pass on my regards to that brown of yours, please?" She gestures to her own needle, as if to imply that this, too, is something she should be getting back to... though surely it can't be work-related.