Logs:Eating And Sleeping
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| RL Date: 11 June, 2010 |
| Who: B'tal, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Dealing with the illness has left Madilla exhausted. B'tal helps. |
| Where: Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 13, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Tomaeran/Mentions |
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| Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr Two sets of double doors, one from the the inner caverns and a recently built set from the dragon infirmary, lead into the unnaturally hushed human infirmary. Despite fastidious cleaning, the scent of redwort and numbweed has long since soaked into every smooth-carved surface, along with other, subtler medicinal smells. Pristinely made cots are lined up against the walls; most of them are left open to view, but some in the back are surrounded by curtains for delicate procedures or critical patients. About halfway between the two entrances is the counter for the healers on duty; it guards the entrance to the storage rooms just beyond, their shelves and cabinets lined with meticulously labeled bottles, boxes, jars, and even vats of supplies. The Weyrhealer's office is also here, along with another side room for mixing up medicines and the like. Madilla's not actually in the infirmary at the moment: she's standing just outside, her back tight against the wall, her eyes closed. A fabric face-mask that smells strongly of herbs is clutched between a couple of her fingers as though she's just taken it off; she looks tired, as though this is the first sleep she's had in a while. Given the state of the infirmary - all those exiles - perhaps that's not really a surprise. Whether he'd actually meant to stop by the infirmary or not, B'tal pauses when he spies Madilla and his path naturally changes to approach her. At first there's hesitance to disturb her but then he murmurs, "Madilla? Is everything okay?" Really, he should know better than to ask something like that, something he knows is most certainly not likely the case. But it's probably habit. Eyes flickering open, Madilla's expression turns immediately into a smile as she determines who it is who is addressing her. "Hello, B'tal," she murmurs, pushing an escaped strand of hair behind one ear as she speaks. "Everything's-- fine. Aside from how my patients keep dying, everything's fine. I just needed to - you know, be away for a moment. How are you?" It's a genuine question: she seems eager for the answer. "Good," says B'tal, though his smile struggles for a moment. "Good," he repeats, glancing sideways before settling his blue gaze back on Madilla. "Do you know what's happening to them?" he asks, uncertain, maybe, if that's something he should already know. At least Madilla can smile for the both of them: earnestly, genuinely. It's as though by smiling, she's making everything better, at least in her head. "I'm glad," she tells him, low-voiced. "I-- it's like a winter chill. The usual kind of thing. But it just takes them so hard, and they can't breath, and--" Her head shakes. "It's awful." B'tal has to consider that for a few moments but then he nods his head and leans his shoulder against the wall a few steps away. "Sounds awful. But... well, I guess I'm glad that you should be okay then, right? And Lily." And, you know, everyone else in the Weyr that isn't among the islanders. "That one blond bossy guy hasn't bit it yet, has he?" B'tal, so compassionate. Though no doubt Madilla is terribly concerned for her patients, she allows herself a faint hint of amusement for B'tal's analysis of the situation. "We'll be fine," she agrees. "Even if we get sick, it shouldn't be too bad. A few weyrfolk have, and they're all fine." She clearly doesn't know exactly which exile B'tal is talking about, because her brow furrows; she admits, after a moment, "It seems like a lot of them are blond. I don't know the one you mean." "Good." B'tal studies Madilla and some concern that might not have been entirely visible at first seems to fade out the lines in his forehead. "I thought if nothing else, I could take Lily to visit Ista or something. Still can, of course, but I'd rather you could come with us, too. So I can wait." He tries that smile again and for this, at least, he can manage it well enough. "Shards, I don't even-- I brought him back from the island. Tomrean?" The name doesn't seem to ring a bell with Madilla, who shakes her head. "He's not been one of my patients, I don't think," she reports, neutrally. Fondness, however, is already creeping into her expression. "You should definitely take Lily," she insists, reaching out as though she intends to take B'tal's hand and squeeze it. "I know she'd like it, and I've just been so /busy/. I don't think I'll be able to get away. Not until all of this--" But she looks wistful for it. B'tal doesn't seem to know if he should be relieved or not, exactly, to hear that his passenger isn't among the casualties but since he's really not a mean person, he finally flickers a smile and nods. "Good," again. "I will, then. Been wanting to go to the beach my next rest day. Not sure Whit can." 'Can' meaning 'will want to.' "But Lily and I will have fun. And then when you aren't so busy, we can go again." Something to look forward to! Genuinely; "I'd like that a lot. Winters get--" No doubt B'tal knows exactly how winters get, and it must be nice for Madilla to have something to look forward to. After all, this illness has /got/to be finished with by spring. "Lily will be thrilled. I'll be glad to see her get out for a bit." This time his smile flashes into something more beaming for several moments. B'tal moves a hand in an attempt to touch her shoulder comfortingly. "We'll be there before you know it, then. All three of us. I'll make sure we have a good time and everything." He glances past Madilla toward the infirmary very quickly, then back. "You done for the night or just taking a break? Have you eaten?" Then, like it's more important, "Have you /slept?/ Madilla lifts one of her hands, letting it rest atop B'tal's hand as it, in turn, rests on her shoulders. She gives it a little squeeze. "I know you will," she tells him, giving him an earnest smile. "I-- no, I'll need to go back in, later. I just needed some air. I /have/ been getting sleep, I promise." But given the bags under her eyes, probably not a /lot/ of sleep. She doesn't answer the question about eating. Studying her as though he'll be able to tell whether or not she's telling the truth, B'tal looks rather serious for a few moments. "Just remember to take care of yourself, too. Do you want me to get you anything from the kitchen? A sweetroll, maybe?" Nothing like something sweet to tempt a stomach, right? "Klah?" His gaze reflexively glances down the way toward the hearth. Madilla is almost certainly opening her mouth to refuse, but her stomach rumbles, audibly; she turns pink. "A sweetroll, if there are any - that would be fine. Thank you." Some klah, too, of her hesitant nod is anything to go by. "I /intended/ to eat. There's just-- there's so much to do." B'tal smiles affectionately and the hand on her shoulder shifts down her arm a bit before sliding away from between that and her hand. "Don't worry about it. You take your break, rest, and I'll go get you some klah and something to eat." Which probably means he'll be coming back with a sweetroll and more if he has any say in the matter. There's another flash of a smile, happier now, then B'tal starts heading his way toward the kitchen. "Thank you," says Madilla, genuinely, watching after B'tal as he goes. She'll close her eyes again while he's gone, and try not to be too overwhelmed when he comes back with more than just that promised sweetroll. It all helps. |
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