Dragon Infirmary, Fort Weyr
Linked to a number of ground weyrs and the main Infirmary, this central cavern is roughly oval in shape and large enough to accommodate two or three smaller dragons if need be. A set of wide double doors lead out into the bowl and are rarely locked, in-case of emergency. Its white-washed walls hold several outcroppings for glows, focused around the main counter at the left of the room and the two beds set far enough apart for dragons to settle into the wallow-like dips between them. Equipment is stored in the (locked) cabinets behind the counter and the glass-covered shelving units carved into the wall, wide and deep enough to hold the necessary quantities to treat injuries of a larger scale.
Weyrling training has A'rist more than prepared to tend to scrapes, scratches... and, seemingly, even maulings. The bronzeling looks to have slept very little, bags under his eyes and a sort of haggard expression on his face, though his eyes seem alert enough as he makes his way from the main infirmary, and back to the ground weyr that he and Lythronath now occupy, after being initially tended to by the dragonhealers. A bag of rags is thrown over his shoulder, a bowl smelling of disinfecting rinse balanced on one arm.
L'sha enters the infirmary at a good clip, but stops short just after getting past the entrance. He still has an exhilarated look on his face and his riding helmet is tucked under one arm. He flags down a passing healer, "Excuse me, could you please tell me where Lythronath and A'rist are?" The healer points him in the right direction and he soon finds the bronze pair. "A'rist, hello! I heard you were here. I was doing between training, this was our first time going outside the Weyr. How's Lythronath? Heard he got into it pretty good with some of the bronzes during a flight."
A'rist's movements are focused, almost meditative. Or, were. The arrival of his clutchmate - and of that whole string of words - have him stopping rather suddenly, a bit of the contents of that basin sloshing over the side and onto his sleeve. A few drips even hit the floor. "L'sha." He doesn't even need to turn and look to the greenrider; he knows his voice by now. But there's almost a smile on his face for that bit of home, which seems much farther away now than a day and a few moments between. "We're okay," is the first thing to say, practiced refrain. "Mostly just one bronze," comes next, and there's a telling look toward the walkway that leads to other ground weyrs, further down.
L'sha is known to get chatty when he's excited. Or just in general. He looks relieved as A'rist says that they're okay. "That's good to hear. That he's okay, that is. Guess that's tough to experience in your first flight. But then, I suppose it's to be expected with Lythronath." He walks around to where he can see A'rist's face. "You don't look so good. When's the last time you slept?"
A'rist waits while L'sha makes his circuit. The liquid in that bowl settles to a standstill along with the bronzerider. "He's mostly just angry he can't have another round." A'rist shrugs. "He'll forget soon enough. And once he's healed well enough, we'll be able to go home." The smile stretches and turns wry when the young man adds, "At least the trip between went really well. It was our first time, solo." Th bronze has taken to betweening like a fish to water. Or like a Lythronath to bloodsport. "I've just been keeping an eye on him is all," is meant to be dismissive. A'rist wiggles the fingers holding the drawstring of the bag of clothes over his shoulder. And he starts toward the ground weyr that still hides his dragon once more, giving L'sha a nod of invitation.
Ihvaiyth is as near she can get to the dragon infirmary as she can be without actually being in the infirmary. The slender green sits prim and proper, eyes focused intently toward her rider. Her rider who is currently focusing intently on the damaged 'Reachian bronze. The dusky-skinned young woman has her arms crossed, but there is a long, rolled piece of parchment or hide in one hand. After a short period of staring at the young dragon, she slowly reaches out with that roll to prod very gently at Lythronath's side.
L'sha grins. "I'm sure he would. Good to hear the betweening went well. We're still training with the Weyrlingmasters, J'vain is around here somewhere. Of course, I've been between before, but not on my own dragon, visualizing it myself. Quite another experience entirely." He nods and follows his fellow weyrling to Lythronath's temporary weyr.
Even the idea of having to explain himself to J'vain - the weyrlingmaster who took him aside for his very own private talk about controlling dragons and flights, the weyrlingmaster who helped him when Lythronath's talon split his leg - makes A'rist pale a little bit. "I think the trick to it is confidence, really." The bronzerider tries to put confidence into his voice, like it might put colour back into his cheeks. "You have to be sure, but once you are... well, then so are they, right?" And he rounds the corner just in time to see that Fort rider poking his dragon. More disinfectant sloshes when he stops, sudden. Lythronath is doing what he's been doing the whole time - eyeing up the woman, straight on, head still - with the one exception of giving a throat-click when he's prodded, and breathing hot, smelly air her way.
Vash, long used to hot, smelly air, is not phased by it. She continues to stare right back, though her head tilts very slightly at the clicking sound. Surely Ihvaiyth gave her warning of the approach from the other two, but she takes her time turning toward them. She does lower the rolled hide, at least. "Spilling that might stain," she says to A'rist. Never mind the myriad of ancient stains all over the place in this area. Her attention turns to L'sha. "I don't know you," she states. There is no concern there. No question. Merely stating a fact. "Is your dragon also broken?"
L'sha grimaces as he sees Vash poking Lythronath, as if she were about to drop a nuclear weapon into an active volcano. He gulps, then gives her a quick salute. "Hello, ma'am, I'm L'sha, green Rillaeth's rider. High Reaches' duty to Fort. Um, no, I'm just visiting, Rillaeth is fine." He manages a cheery grin.
"Poking him might leave a stain too, if you're not careful," A'rist warns, grimacing as he speaks. Although Lythronath, for the most part, seems, if anything, lightly amused. The tip of his tail twitches. He doesn't bother getting up. Just clicks his throat again and stares some more at that greenrider, his eyes kept to a dull light green. A'rist adjusts the rag bag, adjusts the cradling of the bowl. "Were you here on some sort of business? Ma'am?" He tries to smooth out his face some.
Vash blinks several times at L'sha, making zero pretense about sizing him up. His cheery grin is watched, but not returned. She's too busy turning back to A'rist. There is another long moment, then she asks, "Do you truly think he would hurt me?" As for business, there is no answer. Maybe the "ma'am" is throwing her off. "I never understood that saying," she says instead. "High Reaches does no duty to Fort, and Fort does no duty to High Reaches. We do our duties to our beholden, and they to us." She frowns suddenly and looks back toward Lythronath. "Then again, Fort is working to heal one of your dragons. So maybe that's a duty. But then, was it your duty to involve him in a Fort dragon's flight?" It doesn't have the sound of criticism. Much more that of an honest question.
L'sha nods in agreement with A'rist. "You want to be really, really careful with him. And, um, sorry, just being polite. Traditional greeting, and all that. May I ask your name?"
A'rist's nod starts slowly, but gains some speed as he gains some certainty. "I believe he would. If you poke him wrong. Look at him wrong. Less so if I'm here with him, but... I mean, he's wounded, too." A'rist's eyebrows manage to screw themselves up in the centre of his forehead. "But I guess you seem fine." Lythronath offers, to any dragon nearby, the general comment of, « Open. » No 'hahaha', but he's amused nonetheless. Then, blushing from the bronzeling. "I think it Lythronath took it more as his... duty. I was here for your watchrider."
"We should be careful with all dragons," Vash counters, tilting her head to the side slightly as she studies L'sha again. Finally, she does smile. "Of course you may," she answers. Then waits a moment. "I'm going to assume by asking if you may, you're implying you've already asked. Saves time. My name is Vash. Ihvaiyth was the dark, skinny green you passed on your way here." Indicating the green did indeed pass along her information. She has also followed the visiting weyrlings, but at a distance. The better to keep a stern eye on the two. For her own reasons, Vash's proximity to Lythronath does not seem to concern the green. The two humans do. She and Vash both stare at A'rist, then. For several seconds. They don't share why.
Cadejoth announces his arrival to the watchdragon, deposits his rider, and then is off again-- he's probably visiting with Isyath (where 'visiting' means, of course, 'flying.'). For once, his rider's destination is not Ali's weyr, however: it's a few minutes later when he appears at the entrance to that ground weyr, formally dressed in full leathers, his expression... difficult to read.
L'sha glances over his shoulder out toward Ihvaiyth, then turns back to the Fort rider. "Oh yes, she's beautiful, like a larger version of my Rillaeth. She's the dark, skinny green out in the bowl. Pleased to meet you and Ihvaiyth, Vash." He looks out to the bowl again as Cadejoth announces his arrival, then looks at A'rist with slightly widened eyes. He turns as K'del arrives in the ground weyr and snaps to attention, saluting. "Good afternoon, Weyrleader."
A'rist shifts a little uncomfortably beneath that look. He certainly notice Vash's. Lythronath might have been aware of Ihvaiyth's, if he weren't so busy staring at Vash. A snort goes the greenrider's way when she's not paying attention to him anymore, maybe even with little bits of dragon snot. A'rist's just about to start toward Lythronath's side again when K'del walks in, when L'sha greets him. It makes the younger bronzerider freeze all over again, but this time without sloshing of disinfectant. He stands up taller, doesn't salute, hands full as they are. And doesn't say anything, either.
Vash turns very slowly to regard K'del, full leathers and all. When L'sha gives A'rist that wide-eyed look, then snaps to attention for the newcomer, Vash frowns. Ihvaiyth has had time to provide the name of K'del's lifemate by now, but when A'rist also goes all formal, Vash finally turns fully toward K'del. She stands straight, but then, she normally does. She taps the long roll of hide against her leg a couple times, then offers a questioning sort of, "Sir," as if uncertain that's what she should say. Finally there is recognition. Weyrleader. Right. L'sha said that. "Welcome to Fort Weyr."
"At ease," says K'del in answer to L'sha, as he begins to pull off his gloves - first one, and then the other. "Don't mean to interrupt anything," he adds, this time addressing the trio as a whole, though the low nod that follows does seem to be for Vash, as is, "High Reaches' duties to Fort. How is he?" Now that he's been well and truly recognised, the bronzerider takes a few steps further in, stepping towards Lythronath, to whom he now gives a lengthy, studying glance.
L'sha relaxes and drops his salute, his eyes flicking to Vash momentarily for some reason. He doesn't speak, though, letting A'rist give the Weyrleader an update on Lythronath's condition.
It's instinct that has A'rist stepping in when K'del does, a bit protective, maybe. Now, that bowl sloshes again. This time, A'rist steadies it long enough to take a few more steps forward, quite ignoring L'sha and Vash for the moment, and setting it alongside the bronze, followed by the rags. That bronze, who was perfectly okay with being poked and prodded (minimally) by the greenrider, flares his nostrils a bit and bobs his head, once, twice, when K'del approaches. But he doesn't maul at the weyrleader's head, so that's good. "The biggest gash is on his shoulder, sir. Claw damage. Mostly otherwise just scrapes, scratches. He'll be fine to between home once he's healed up." Now, the side glance to Vash, and with a lowering of his head, "They've been very accommodating, here."
"Again with the duty thing," Vash mutters to herself, frowning as she looks toward Ihvaiyth. Slender shoulders move, not quite a shrug, not quite a roll. "If we kicked out your lot every time a green or gold went up, we'd be at war by now," she comments, in that same tone as she might say, "Have you seen Mrs. Smith's latest batch of roses?" A moment later, she turns back to the others. "No sense closing doors when there are none to be closed. We accommodate each other, yes?"
"Which will be soon, I hope," prompts K'del, turning his head away from Lythronath - reluctantly, it must be said, as though he doesn't quite trust not having the bronze within his line of sight - so that he can aim a long glance at A'rist. "Our relations with Fort can be difficult enough, without overstaying our welcome." There are layers to his comment, though it falls short of actually being a rebuke. That he's partially arguing against Vash's remarks only seems to occur to him a few seconds later. Hastily, then, "Of course we do. And certainly, we very much appreciate it. Still, it's better for all in concerned never to overstay our welcome."
L'sha frowns slightly at Vash's comment about duty, but says nothing, then listens to the Weyrleader. His feet shift somewhat uncomfortably, not being accustomed to being in the presence of the Weyrleader. He's not exactly sure what to say, or whether to say anything.
Lythronath waits until K'del has turned to give a click-growl of commentary. A'rist simply dips his head respectfully. "We don't have any intention of overstaying, no. Will leave as soon as we can, sir." Nod to Vash, "Ma'am." All appropriately deferent, although when he points toward the supplies he's brought in, the muscles in his arm are tight, and the movements, jerky and mechanical. "You wouldn't mind if I go ahead with this?" is mostly asked for K'del. "His wounds are due a cleaning." Maybe it's L'sha's extended silence, maybe it's a will to be out of the spotlight, that prompts, "L'sha's just here with J'vain, for betweening practice, sir. It went well I believe."
Vash should maybe share L'sha's uncertainty. But she just doesn't seem to. "Another saying I've never quite understood," she shares. Admits. Comments? "A welcome is brief. It's acceptance and admittance. Then it's done. But to overstay implies visit, not welcome." She frowns up at Lythronath and taps her rolled hide against her leg a couple more times. "The watchrider welcomed. So... stay." So says weyrleader Vash. Clearly. A'rist's comment makes her tilt her head again. "If it had not gone well, he would be dead."
L'sha nods at A'rist, snapping out of his reverie. "Oh, uh, yes, sir, it went well. Just thought I'd look in on A'rist and Lythronath while I was here and see how they were doing." He stares at Vash again, furrowing his brows at her strange manner of discourse, especially in front of the Weyrleader.
Now K'del looks uncertain, brow furrowing as he listens to what Vash has to say. "Uh," he says, intelligently. But, "Oh, of course. Go right ahead, A'rist. Wouldn't want to get between you and your dragon's care, of course. Like I said, didn't mean to interrupt or anything. Just wanted to check in." His mouth opens, and then closes again: a lengthy pause follows. And, "I'm, uh, glad to hear it, L'sha. And... Rillaeth? How is she?"
"He could be lost," A'rist counters over his shoulder as he bends to grab a few rags. One gets tucked into his back pocket. The other gets soaked in the basin. Lythronath flares his nostrils, and there's a moment of intensity between rider and dragon, the dragon not particularly enjoying the sting, the rider not particularly wanting there to be a scene. In front of the weyrleader no less.
Vash frowns right back at L'sha. Then at A'rist. Then at K'del. Social cues are so not her speciality. "You seem to make the weyrlings uncomfortable, sir," the greenrider comments, still frowning. It's not the scowling type. She's just puzzled. "I like Fort's leaders. They make sense. Don't feel all..." Here, she actually gestures at the older rider. "Rigid. Are you uncomfortable, sir?"
L'sha beams as K'del inquires after Rillaeth. "Oh, she's doing very well, sir, thank you for asking. He glances at A'rist a bit nervously, reminded of the incident with Rh'mis a few sevendays ago. "Well, I try to put that possibility out of my mind when betweening. And besides, J'vain's with me, he's not going to let anything happen to me." He looks between Vash and K'del. "Oh, no, we were just...surprised, that's all. We didn't intend to give the impression that we were uncomfortable." He smiles easily, hoping to present an air of informality with the leader of the entire High Reaches Weyr.
"I'm not uncomfortable," answers K'del, firmly. He's staring at Vash like she's... well, very strange. Very strange. "Your leaders and High Reaches have a long and complicated relationship. From the political side of things, I would prefer to keep our interactions... more neutral, wherever possible. That's all. A'rist will no doubt work hard to learn how to better control his dragon's urges in future, correct?" That particular weyrling gets a glance. And then L'sha, too. "As long as you focus, and do what J'vain says, I'm sure you'll be fine," he agrees. "We'll have no more incidents." This time, he's very deliberately not looking at A'rist. Okay, that's a little uncomfortable.
"You've got to not let anything happen to you either," A'rist says to L'sha, quietly, as if by doing so it might float under the radar of the older riders. If there was anything to be added, it's cut off as K'del talks. The younger bronzerider's face is bright red. He steps up to Lythronath, and the sopping rag is applied promptly and directly, not even particularly gently. Lythronath blows air in a huff, and his back talons twitch, but that's all. "I was caught off guard, sir. Next time, I'll keep him from causing even minor injuries." No more defined attempts to draw attention to the lack of dead dragon bodies in Lythronath's wake; to Vash, "'Reaches leaders make sense, too. We were in the wrong." Scrubscrubscrub. Red face.
This time there is a scowl as Vash looks from L'sha to K'del. Her skepticism is strong. The rolled hide makes more dull thudding sounds against her leg as she attempts to interpret. "And this is political?" she asks, pointing that hide toward Lythronath's head. It's at this point that Ihvaiyth finishes approaching the weyr at long last, and it must be for the express purpose of distracting Vash, because the greenrider soon looks away, frown entirely gone. There's a small "Oh", before she looks at A'rist and his bronze. No judgement in that glance, just curiosity. "Well. Ihv has said she wouldn't like yours to chase her. Ever." A beat later, she gives A'rist an oddly beaming smile. "She doesn't mean it, though." To which the green snorts and begins walking away again.
L'sha blinks as the Weyrleader asks A'rist to control Lythronath's urges, as if that were as likely to happen as A'rist preventing Rukbat from rising tomorrow morning. He smiles and nods to A'rist in response to the whisper. To K'del, he nods again. "Yes, sir, thank you, sir." Vash just gets another befuddled look.
K'del's answer to A'rist is light, clearly intended to come across as not-a-chide. "You'll do your best," he agrees. "I'm sure of that. It... isn't as though it's never happened before, though. Or won't ever happen again. But," the rest of his answer encompasses Vash, too. "Most things are political, yes. Especially right after another of our bronzeriders ended up in the middle of a senior flight, here." The bronzerider begins to dig his hands into his pockets, clearly attempting to find something to do with them, though this is perhaps not all that effective. "Well, good," he says to L'sha. "Good."
Lythronath stretches his neck and snaps his teeth on the end of that scroll when it's pointed at his head, with no hesitation, and certainly no warning. « Haha! » Even A'rist's sudden push of that cloth against the wound doesn't take his triumph away. The weyrling catches himself soon enough anyway, and pulls back. The rag from his pocket his taken out, and he kneels to soak it, but pauses, distracted by Vash. "I... I'm glad?" « Wouldn't like, » Lythronath repeats, clearly not considering this a limiting factor in the least. « Ha. » All these people should be here when he's getting his claw scratches cleaned all the time.
Vash opens her mouth to reply, but she's unable to stop pointing that hide. She tugs. Tugs again. Finally looks at Lythronath. There's a last more forceful yank, then the hide comes free, leaving a bit of it in the bronze's mouth. "Oh," she says very quietly, staring at the ragged end of her roll. "Well." She presses her lips together to look toward A'rist, then looks toward her green as Ihvaiyth snorts, by now nearly clear of the ground weyrs. "Very true," she finally says to K'del, likely what she'd meant to say originally, as it's a little forced. "But that means I should leave. Since this is also probably politics. I've been told I'm no good at those sorts of things." To say the least.
L'sha gulps as Lythronath tries to eat Vash's scroll, his hand rising up so that his fingertips cover his mouth. "Oh, my." He looks a bit relieved as Vash manages to extract the hide from Lythronath's jaws. And that Vash still has two hands.
As Lythronath grabs hold of the hide, K'del's gaze abruptly follows him, not so much narrowing as turning quietly cautious. Vash gets it free again, and the Weyrleader exhales. "I don't know that this is politics," he says, reassuringly. "Here and now. Only the situation. You're fine." As long as she doesn't mind chewed hides, presumably. "Is there anything you need, A'rist? Presumably we could have your classmates bringing things, if required. If you're going to be here longer." His tone is dubious. "Right?" He glances in L'sha's direction.
It's only once Lythronath's let go of the scroll that A'rist carries on with his cleaning routine. "Like I said, sir, they've been very accommodating," the young bronzerider repeats. "And I don't think we'll be here too long. He's been healing well." L'sha gets a little shrug, for his being volunteered. "Although... I've got a jacket in my weyr, that's not just my flight leathers... Miravea knows where it is." It's said halfway between K'del and L'sha, though the imploring look goes to L'sha, first volunteered gopher, now volunteered messenger, it would seem. "Sorry about your hide," is an afterthought to Vash as he stands with a fresh rag.
L'sha's eyes are still on Lythronath, so he doesn't notice the Weyrleader addressing him at once. after a moment, he looks at K'del. "Hmm? Oh! Yes, of course, sir. Anything he needs." His attention turns to A'rist. "Sure, I can find it for you, no problem."
Vash fingers the torn end of her rolled hide, then frowns at the others. "No blood, no foul," she declares after a long pause. Sadly, Vash does not notice the "your hide" part. Her gaze darts from K'del to L'sha to A'rist. "Are you saying Fort can't provide for a dragon wounded in our skies?"
K'del's eyes widen, abruptly, at mention of his niece... and his gaze sharpens upon A'rist, rather more disapprovingly parental than weyrleaderly. "It's best if I don't ask why my niece knows where your things are," he says. Things in your weyr. "No," he continues, in answer to Vash. "Not at all. Shells, no. Just checking to make sure there's nothing personal from home that he'd like to have. Do you always go out of your way to take things the wrong way?"
"Don't worry about it," to L'sha, with a bit of a frustrated line sketched by his eyebrows. "No sense you going looking for- oh." Oh, when A'rist looks back to K'del, and is suddenly very, very busy with tending to Lythronath. Gotta make sure those things heal up clean, don't you know.
"I'm not the one taking things the wrong way," Vash corrects, as she faces down K'del. She would need to remember his knot for it to influence her. "Why shouldn't your niece know where his things are? This is a Weyr. People share intimate moments here. It is entirely natural." She glances at L'sha and A'rist and frowns again. "Is sex at High Reaches not normal? Or are we not talking about sex? It sounded like sex."
L'sha purses his lips to keep from smirking at K'del's comment. Obviously he was thinking the exact same thing. He actually does snerk a bit as he meets A'rist's eyes, then quickly busies himself with looking at something on the ceiling of the weyr. Then his jaw drops open in disbelief at Vash's complete lack of tact.
K'del just... stares at Vash. Which... at least gets A'rist at least temporarily off the hook. "So I shouldn't be concerned about my fourteen-turn-old niece and what might be happening in a bronzerider's weyr?" He at least manages to keep his tone relatively even. That this makes him completely and utterly a hypocrite... well, that's clearly beside the point. To A'rist, though perhaps it's more bemused than it might otherwise have been: "If you hurt her, you know who will be after you." Hi.
Off the hook, except for the part about how he's now purported to be bedding the weyrleader's niece. "I..." am washing my dragon. Look how carefully he dabs away at those gouges. Oh, time to soak another rag. A'rist doesn't look at anyone while he goes for that. Lythronath, however, chuffs and happily chimes in with an invite of, « Provide? » aimed right at Ihvaiyth.
"Um..." Vash begins, frowning at K'del. Then at L'sha. She frowns more at the dropped jaw. "Is she weyrbred?" she asks K'del, sounding as if she's trying to be helpful. "I don't understand what this weyrling's dragon's color has to do with anything." Among so many things she doesn't understand, clearly. "Well, now I know why they were scared of you," Vash adds a moment later, scowling at K'del again. "He's a kid. No offense, kid," she adds to A'rist, and meaning it.
L'sha looks between K'del and A'rist, thinking quickly. "Oh, uh, that must've been when we had our extra drills meeting last week, I remember Miravea being there." In Lythronath's bloodstained weyr. He nods to A'rist, as if for him to play along.
In answer to Vash's scowls, K'del just stares: what the fuck is wrong with you? Really, that look gets passed around to all three of the others before, finally, he just shakes his head. "I have no idea what the-- look. Never mind. A'rist, I hope we'll see you back at High Reaches very soon. L'sha, don't keep J'vain waiting too long. Excuse me, I need to visit my daughter."
A'rist actually does lift his palm up to his face, and give it a good rub. "Yessir," comes once his hand has fallen away, leaving a smear of redwort down one cheek that makes his nose twitch. "Look," to L'sha, "just... my riding jacket will be fine, just... just don't worry about it, she knows all there is to know anyway." And to Vash, a very, very belated, "None taken." And he turns. He will see to his dragon, now, with full attention. Whether all these people stick around or not.
As it seems the visiting hour is breaking up, Vash relaxes. She even gives K'del a smile. "Enjoy your visit, sir," she bids the bronzerider before turning to L'sha and A'rist. "And you guys, too. At least it's warmer here, right?" So she assumes. As a parting comment to A'rist, Vash adds, "It's really okay to be a kid. Be a kid as long as you can be. If that one will let you," she adds with a thumb pointing at Lythronath. "Good bye." She waves rather than salutes, then turns to exit the ground weyr area to join Ihvaiyth, who waits with lashing tail.
L'sha's shoulders fall as his effort doesn't seem to have the intended effect. "Sure, happy to get it for you." He grins sheepishly and nods to K'del. "No, sir, I'll get back right away." Vash gets a brief wave as she leaves the weyr.
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