====September 09, 2013
====Hannah, Lendai, Dhiammarath
====Lendai unveils her present; Hannah is coaxed on it. They both nearly die and Dhiammarath ends up injured.

Who Hannah, Lendai, Dhiammarath
What Lendai unveils her present; Hannah is coaxed on it. They both nearly die and Dhiammarath ends up injured.
When There is 1 turn 3 months and 9 days until the 12th pass.
Where Hatching Sands, Southern Weyr

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Hatching Sands
The Sands are surprisingly soft to the feet and to the eyes: rich grains of gold commingle with the ground basalt-black that mark the shores of Azov's Sea. The whorls of lighter color pattern into the sands, larger-grained and often settling at the top, as golden driftwood against dark shores. … but the moaning from above sounds like the chorus of the damned, lessening the natural beauty here below.
Type 'help here' for info on how to set/use the sands.
Gold Dhiammarath is here.
Lendai is here.
Obvious exits:
Archway


-- On Pern --
It is sunrise
It is 7:57 AM where you are.
There is 1 turn 3 months and 9 days until the 12th pass.
It is Spring and 65 degrees. It is cloudy.




It's about mid-way through the morning at Southern Weyr. Most of the residents have eaten their breakfast and gotten their day underway. The same can be said for two of the three goldriders at the Weyr. Into the Sands they walk, though something seems off. Probably because Hannah has a blindfold over her eyes and Lendai to holding onto her arm as she slowly leads her onto the warm sands. "Easy, easy. Make sure you take high steps here! We're on the sands now." As if the woman wouldn't be able to tell with the changing of the terrain under her feet. "I… I know it's not perfect. But I hope you like it! Talicanitath helped with the first half of it, but then she gave up and got sick of sitting on the sands when all she wanted to do was laze about with Kraakenaeth." Traitorous beast. "Oh! Here's a bit of a dune, careful, don't get your foot caught! …good. Good. Almost there." And so she leads the junior weyrwoman across the sands, her hands like a vice grip on Hannah's arm. Careful to not let the other woman faceplant. So starts the morning of these two particular goldriders.

Careful steps taken, a half-stumble when the terrain changes from stone to sand, has Hannah trust her life in Lendai's hands. Her other arm is held outward for additional balance, high-steping across the sands. The junior is wearing a simple sundress of blinding white, sleeveless to expose creamy expanse of shoulders and the delicate bones of her collar. "Are we almost there?" Excitement laces her husky tones, for no matter what Th'seus may have said, this goldrider part-way suspects the man's exaggerating. Especially after the hair freak out. And the boat freak out. Well that one probably was a legitimate freak out. Head is tilted back, nose up in the air, as the junior patently tries to sneak a peak from beneath the lower edge of the blindfold, but Lendai tied it too well. If it weren't for the fact that she couldn't see, the younger of the two would be bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Oh Lendai, it's a present, it doesn't have to be perfect!" Just not a deathtrap, please!

Perhaps not a deathtrap, per se. Maybe only a maimingtrap. "It… it still needs some… prettying up, is all." Understatement of the turn, here. "But I know Dhiammarath is getting quite large, and should be set to clutch soon. Plus I've had all these people breathing down my neck to help when I've made it clear I didn't want help and I've heard of some movement of residents wanting to just march in here and undermine all my hard work so…" So basically she needed to pull a few all nighters and get it as close to done as possible. Needless to say, it could still use a few weeks more of work… and probably a massive overhaul. Or better to just use as fire kindle. "Annnnd… here!" Lendai stops Hannah a little too abrupty, what with her own excitement. Though she still holds on for a moment longer to the younger goldrider to ensure she's not unbalanced before letting go. "Okay. Okay." Deep breathes. DEEEEEEP breathes. "Annnnd take off the blindfold!" And once Hannah does, a sight of magnificance will treat her eyes. For the platform is a thing of terror. While it has four thick pieces of timber holding it up a few feet off of the sands, it is far too long, causing the middle to bow. Since Lendai didn't think to put another support in the middle to ward off the weight of the wood, let alone any people ON the platform. There are pieces of wood poking in all directions, some that are anchored to the main supports but then just go no where at all. There are holes on the platform top itself, as the builder ran out of material so, y'know, don't fall through those holes or anything. The hole thing sorta leans a little to the left, and there are some rickety looking stairs that don't really appear all that safe. What's worse? An attempt at decorating has occurred. Small painted circles of different hues, like polka dots, cover the ENTIRE thing. A cheery, "They're eggs!" supplies what the circles are supposed to be. Other than an eyesore. All the furniture up there, two chairs and a table, plus some woeful flowers that spilled out of their vase and as littered all over the place, seems to have slowly slipped towards the middle of the platform, what with that bow in the wood. All in all. It's pretty… pretty bad. But it's standing! Which is a win in Lendai's book. Hopeful, hopeful eyes wait and watch Hannah's reaction to her SURPRISE.

The blindfold comes off, mussing the strands of moonlight-pale hair so that it falls around her face in silky clumps. Hannah's eyes grow rounder and rounder and rounder, the emerald color shining as the lower lids fill with tears. Whatever the junior sees surely cannot be what is actually there, for it couldn't inspire the surprise and warmth emanating from the younger woman. Not that monstrosity. Whatever is seen, Lendai's hopeful eyes are met with the sudden flinging of her slight body into her senior's (and friend's) arms. "Oh Lendai," the chocked thickness of impending tears clog a husky voice as thin arms wrap around her friend. "Thank you." It is entirely possible that Hannah saw only the love and friendship echoed in that horrible, horrible, horrible deathtrap waiting to eat goldriders like cookies to a cookie monster. "I — this is the best present." Is it? Her voice is the pure, crystalline quality of unadulterated sincerity. "Ever."

The flinging of the arms around Lendai does surprise the woman a little, though she's able to keep both herself and Hannah upright and not digging sand out of their nethers. "Y-y-you do?" So many people have been telling her how terrible the platform is, hearing someone actually like it is unsettling. But in a good way. "Really?" Cause seriously, that thing is pretty awful. Tears start to well up, her lower lip trembles, and happy little sniffles are issued forth. D'awww! "I'm, I'm glad!" Hiccup! "I worked so hard on it. And it needs a little help maybe, but I can keep working on it and get it completely good to go before Dhiammarath takes to the sands!" She wipes away at some errant tears and dries her face. "I figure, y'know, it's only fair. Since my actions got the first one broken. I should be the one to remedy it. It was actually kinda fun. And I got a new hammer!" That she straight up stole from Aaron. "I even tried it out! So it's completely safe." LIES. LIIIIIIIIIIES. "Just don't make any jerky movements or nothing!" Don't. Even. Breath. On. It. "You want to try it out?!" Ahahaha!

"I do, I do!" Hannah's muffled assurances come from where her face is pressed to Lendai's shoulder. Totally coincidence. She gives the woman a squeeze and starts to pull away, wiping the tears from her own eyes. Pale lashes clump around large green eyes when she looks at Lendai, though they narrow speculatively when the senior mentions her new hammer. "Lendai," she pauses the happy moment, a warning underscoring the warmth and love that curled through her husky voice, reminiscent of the midnight sepulcher. "Don't wave the hammer into Th'seus's face, mmmkay?" That's all she says on the subject, but the look Lendai gets is laden with unspoken promise that crumbles when the Weyrwoman's excitement infects into her last question. Only the briefest of hesitations occurs where Hannah balances the promise to Th'seus against Lendai's tender hope. "Of course I do. Of course." She whirls on the balls of her feet and marches towards the leaning platform of Southern. "How do I get on it?" It's a stall tactic, but the stairs are spotted with little aid. "Okay, Lendai…" Carefully, Hannah grabs a part of this platform as it sways dangerously even beneath her slight weight. A hundred pounds soaking wet, if that. The thing groans as she carefully steps up the rickety stairs. "I — this is so high. How did you get it so high?" Leaaaaaaaaning to the left. Leeannnnnnnning to the right. Hannah swallows when she makes it to the top. THIS is friendship, yo.

"Oh, he didn't mention that I threw it at him too? That's good." Lendai comments, a sassy grin upon her lips. "Though really, that was more of an accident. He snuck up on me so I chucked it at him. And missed." She needs to work on her aim. Desperately. "I was simply trying to get answers. You know I wouldn't do nothing to mar his pretty face!" Maybe just smash a kneecap or something. No one cares how knees look. As Hannah makes her way towards the platform, Lendai follows at least to the stairs. She doesn't bother to go up them, this is Hannah's moment! To revel in her awesome new platform full of polka dots and quickly dying flowers. Though the Senior barely breathes as her junior makes her precarious way onto the unsteady (at best!) platform. "Oh, Talicanitath helped with that! I'd lean the boards on her or make her hold them up. I was pretty impressed with the height too." She's puffing her chest out, feeling all proud of her accomplishment. "So now you can see all of your dragon's eggs!" Or fall off of it and break a body part. Either or! "Careful of that piece to the right of you, the one kinda… jutting out and sharp looking? I should probably have sawed that off. Gonna need to steal a saw…" Someone will be raiding Aaron's toolbox again.

Creeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaak. Groaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan. Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak. Hannah arrests her movements as the thing sways like it's drifting in the ocean beneath her feet. "Lendai— " the warning about the senior's interactions with Th'seus get forgotten when the boards in the middle start sagging. So instead, with a voice that quivers surely with excitement and not fear, she asks tremulously, "Is it — is this how it's — in the middle." Slowly, she eases onto her hands and knees and finds herself far up too high, on a rickety shanty. Well, Southern, it was nice knowing you all. "The height will be good for Bailey, but maybe a few feet," or a dozen feet, "shorter would have been a little better for me. You know, if I had any comment or requests." Quick to assure, Hannah praises in a voice that wavers only a little as the boards in the middle bow a little further without support, "I love the paint work on it." She really does appreciate all the effort. A little bit of movement has the entire thing swaying back to the left, which has Hannah placing the palms of her hands against the rough grain of the wood. "The sharp thing, right. Avoid that." Wood groans, nails squeak, and something deep within the structure makes a grinding sound. "I think… I think I'm going to get off now, if that's okay with you, Lendai." Pause. "It is very high up." Pause. And the sloooooooow rise to her feet is aborted when the thing shimmies like a thing possessed. The hole in the middle is a maw ready to eat goldriders, and it is HUNGRY. "You have done… a very… thorough job— " A startled squeak when the thing leans abruptly to the right has the junior's arms windmilling before balance is upset and she's tumbling ass over head towards the waiting maw — er — hole, fingers catching at the last second, wrapping around a random odds-n-ends post jutting out. "LENDAI!!" Frantic, fear-filled; legs kick from where she dangles in the MIDDLE of the platform. It just needs to be fixed right?

<All> Dhiammarath senses that she is a sudden roar of anger and fear, an all-encapsulating supernova of emotion that reaches far beyond the stretch of her typical serenity. No rock-garden or incense can be found here: only the incensed ire of a gravid queen, and the gut-clenching fear that reaches, reaches, REACHES before all emotion clangs down as if… a thousand voices yelled out in terror and were suddenly silenced.


There was at least ONE PERSON… uh… one being… that wasn't necessarily expecting that. Dhiammarath hadn't really LOOKED at the thing, see, being busy nosing over the sands in a very picky kind of way. Thus distracted, she was not expecting to feel her lifemate's sudden gut-clenching lurch of vertigo. The egg-heavy queen rears up on her haunches, a terrifying force to behold as she turns with speed unknown to reach for her lifemate. Faranth only knows what may happen when she REACHES the platform, but… she is COMING. Like winter, but with more eggs and less cold.

Dhiammarath senses that Hannah is so very presently here, fingers digging into the wood where grains splinter the skin. The fear thins the skin of reserve and exposes the molten earthen core of Hannah's inner self. Words cannot be formed 'round the fear that clogs and strains the throat. The feeling of heated air winding between toes as shoes lose their grip to gravity's hand. A thin, silver strand of feeling winds through everything; the crystalline touch of tears. And the FEAR of shattering her legs.

Dhiammarath senses that Hannah's thoughts are frantic, the quick brush of: « Middle! I'm in the middle of it! » to the end of the unfurling of fear.

You sense Dhiammarath is not as she normally is. The curtains have been pulled back, her typical facade of genteel emotion and balanced serenity fading for the very present fear pulsing along her mindscape — the acrid tang of sulphur lingers with the metallic-bitter fear of blood on a cut tongue. She is frantic, her mind blackened with lanterns upturned and fires unlit, to reach, to ascertain the safety of her so-fragile lifemate. Only Hannah's last brush pulls her up short, uncertainty and alarm piling atop those emotions: the middle… not the best place to EXTRACT one from.

Dhiammarath senses that Hannah's clarity of thought is returned at the weight of Dhiammarath's very real presence. For now her grip holds, but the muscles quiver with holding her weight up by this single, so-important randomly placed post. Between the bond, the feel of heated wind as thin legs kick the air as she scrambles to try to find purchase. A thin whimper escapes, mentally and physically, so keenly felt between them more than heard. « I should have listened. I should have listened. I'm going to die. » That's the fear talking.


"Uh… I think?" is Lendai's answer to the question about the middle. Does she look like a Smith to you? "I mean, I've been kind of watching the chairs up there slowly slide towards the middle, which did make me wonder." Even she is starting to look a bit alarmed with the way the platform is moving. In truth, while Lendai did go up on it, it was more like she put two feet on the top towards the side and then got down. Like right away. "Uh… uh, yeah. You. You need to come down. Come down, now. It's making some weird noises," as if Hannah doesn't know that. "and maybe it wouldn't hurt for a Smith or Th'seus or someone to just… add a few more nails or something." A slice to her pride is worth it if it means her junior isn't maimed. Or killed. "Oh. Oh SHIT!" And now Lendai is scrambling as shit hits the preverbal fan. The platform is a LIE! As the whole freaking thing moves to the right and Hannah goes flailing. Risking her own life for Hannah? Hell yeah she will! The Senior running underneath the entire platform and holding her arms up to just be able to grasp the younger woman's ankle. "I GOT YOU! I GOT YOU! Just let go! I GOT YOU!" No really. She's totally got her ankle. That's saving at least a part of the junior, right?! "I won't let it kill you!!"

You sense Dhiammarath is as savage as she has ever been, as fierce as fighting Fall: « No. » The power of that word sweeps with all the fiber of Dhiammarath's being: the fully weight of a gold's presence directed towards one action. « No, you will not. I will get the mewling woman away from you, and you will be right as rain. »


By now, Hannah is sobbing. This stupid thing is so high up it's downright scary, made even higher by the way the fear courses through her veins. Feet are kicking outward, trying to get purchase, the shoes long since lost to gravity and lie in the middle of the … the thing. "Lendai. LEEEEENDAIIIIII." Hands slip from where they're wrapped around one of the strange posts, which is what gives Lendai the reach she needs to grab one slender ankle. "Dhiammarath!" Plea for the gravid gold that's on the other side of the platform, for her other half. Fear, fear, fear. Her head turns, angling a look over her shoulder, pale hair bouncing down her back. The once-white dress is now mussed and dirty with wood grit. The platform shudders and starts to leeeeeeeean even further, which puts less height between her and the senior weyrwoman. A pathetic whimper escapes the younger woman's lips as her fingers lose even more spare inches. At least, at this point, if Hannah lets go, the fall won't end in an injured spine or death. But that platform is groaning like a hungry beast ready for NOMS. "DO YOU GOT ME?!" The wailing echo of the junior could proooobably be heard from even outside the Hatching Caverns.

Dhiammarath senses that Hannah clings, clings to the power of her lifemate's denial. « Hold it up! Hold it up…» Frantic is the message as the thing swaaaaaaaays even more. Tears clog, pain slices into fingers, and the presure of Lendai's fingers against her ankle are all the things that pass wholly and fully through the link.


Ever seen a cat slither a paw under a dresser to get at something? BAT BAT BAT? Well, that's Dhia, with very little regard for her own safety, awkwardly landing half on her side to dig with her forepaw towards the center. Lendai may get swatted by HUGE DRAGONPAW, but at least if the whole thing starts to come down, it will be bolstered by the sheer bulk of the appendage the dragon is shoving under the structure.

You sense Dhiammarath is all focus, her concentration trained down to shoving a limb under her flailing lifemate's feet. If Lendai is in the way, WHOOPS.


"Ow! You kicked my hand!" Yeah, because that matters. "Calm down, Hannah! Calm down!" And then there is suddenly a dragon paw coming right for her. Lendai dodges, luckily, as the batting seems to continue. Never once though does she let go of that ankle. Which probably hinders more than it helps. Yanking on Hannah and all. "I do! I do! Just let go, I'll catch you! Or your dragon will! Someone wi— !" The sound of splintering cuts the Senior Weyrwoman off. Wood chips start to go flying as half-way embedded nails lose their grasp on the wood they were poorly anchored in to. The rickety platform is past shimmying, past shuddering, and generally just falling apart board by board. It's leaning way too much to the right, completely unbalanced. The chairs and tables up top are toppling to the ground, just barely missing poor Hannah as they slide right on off and hit the sands with a -THUNK-. "AAAAHHHHHHH!" That scream is all from Lendai now, tears streaming down her face as her well intentioned gift goes so horribly, horribly gone. Slivers of timber are being flung forcibly from their once homes, easily hitting any unclothed portion of the two goldriders and dragon. "IT'S… IT'S COMING DOWN! LET GO LET GO LET GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-AAAAAAAAAAH!" If Hannah lets go or not is not yet seen as mere moments later the entire structure just comes apart at the poorly constructed seams. Covering both women and a dragon's front paw.

"I'M SORRY LENDAI BUT I CAN'T SEE— " Hannah's terrified scream is cut off when she feels the presence of her dragon, that touch that does so MUCH to still the terror with in. The warmth of pale, pale golden hide of that single limb is what gets the junior to let go of the safety-post, caught in mid-fall as a table soars past. Luckily, the goldrider connects with soft, soft hide and the warmth of reassurance, with only the wind knocked out of her. THAT IS. Until chairs and boards and other things suddenly start raining down on them. "Dhiammarath!" The yell is muffled as the junior wraps her arms over her head to protect herself as best she can as her face presses into the gravid queen's paw. Curling into a ball, she's screaming, "Lendai, Lendai, LEEEEEENDAIIII!" Wordless yells to the senior, possibly for the other woman to remember to protect her own head. Flying debris batter her body, little cuts and scrapes tangling legs and one solid chunk catches Hannah across the face, where the v of her arm leaves her cheek exposed. That's going to leave a wicked bruise. And as sudden as everything was, there hangs a moment of utter, utter silence. Hannah lies unmoving.

Dhiammarath senses that Hannah clings, hands scrambling slowly up the length of that limb, trying to get away from the death trap. Her thoughts are mindless spirals of darkness, of heated earth, and midnight skies. Fear, pain, fear, pain wind through the link in tandem; until all is quiet. All is silent. And there is nothing left but the rapid, bird-fragile thump-thump-thump of a racing heartbeat. A breath inhaled. Solace sought in the link between. « Is… it over? » A whispered thought, threaded through the fear.

Dhiammarath thinks this shit sucks, okay? IT FUCKING SUCKS. That is all, other than the tremble of forepaw to hold back the array of wooden splinters. Ichor runs freely from a gash along the side of her paw where she shelted the both of the goldriders from one of the heavier items.

Dhiammarath thinks to you, « I bespoke Lendai with « You sense that Dhiammarath is never so… tactless, is she? Never infringing, so serene, the very picture of modest royalty. Every other day of her life, perhaps. Today, her voice is cold and hard and tight with pain and fear and rage. « You. » A snarl of what is normally a gorgeous voice, emotion roiling upwards, ever-upwards. « You are the worst excuse of a dragonrider I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. » Like that, the rage and utter, blatant hatred is gone, off like a light. » »


The once majestic platform is no more. Only now pieces of broken wood that cover part of a dragon and two women. The sand that was blown into the air at the platforms descent towards the ground starts to settle, though the dust still lingers in the air. Seconds slowly tick as not a single movement is made, not a noise made… until suddenly a cough. Followed by a pained groan. Wood is shifted, moved, as bodies underneath show life. The majority of the heavy timbers luckily fall on poor Dhiammarath's paw, though possibly saving both Hannah and Lendai from some serious injury. "H…Hannah?" The words are raw from sand in the lungs. More splinters are moved. A hand popping out. "A-a-are you okay?" The words are stuttered, Lendai two seconds away from sobbing from the sheer destruction that had just occurred. "I…" Hiccup. Sniffle. "Your dragon yelled at me." It's a weird feeling, to be yelled at by another's dragon. "I-I-I-I… I KILLED HANNAH!" Her words echo, echo, echo throughout the quiet of the hatching ground sands. Just ignore the fact that if Hannah was dead, Dhiammarath would probably be, like, gone. Or REALLY unhappy. Unhappier than she might already be.

Hannah takes long moments to re-settle herself mentally, reassuring that the pain she's feeling is not, in fact, death and that her lifemate is there. Always there. Her lashes flutter open, blinking away the dust and grime and sand as awareness comes slowly to limbs. Lendai's yell is what prompts a response from a throat ravaged by all her screaming and dust. "I'm… not dead." Even still, she's more worried by the flow of green that she sees, struggling to push aside the small stuff to get to the cut that sliced her poor, pregnant queen's hide. "Dhiammarath," a broken sob, brought on by shock as it is by the shared pain of a bruised body. Hot, red blood of her own pours over her cheek where that chunk nearly took out her eye. "She's hurt, Lendai, she's hurt." It's entirely possible that the junior is just more than a little addled at the moment, latching onto the one thing that stands out. But she does turn a grimy expression to her senior, whimpering out an "Are you okay?!" before a wheezing cough is given.

You sense Dhiammarath is, for the first time in recent memory, fading back to her normal sense of stone and sky and sweet air: lantern-light shines, though perhaps the lemongrass of her scent tends to medicinal. « I am fine. It is but a scratch. » A scratch that will require stitches, but it doesn't matter: her relief is a palpatable thing, like thick warm honey, cocooning Hannah in swaddled layers of care and love.


Dhiammarath isn't about to bleed out, thankfully, though the ichor is a messy thing that tinges boards green and soaks the sands beneath. She shifts, awkwardly moving herself to a more comfortable position a'right, watching closely the wreckage that shifts as she moves her paw away from it. Her attention is solely, then, for Hannah: her muzzle draws close to her lifemate and she whuffles deeply, as if to catch the scent of her hair to comfort herself that Hannah is, indeed, still breathing.

Dhiammarath senses that Hannah's heart slowly calms down, wrapped in the swaddling of love and comfort. « It'll be like new. » Calm is returning, as is the slow-tilt of the world to what is normal. « I'll make sure of it. » A promise given in the midnight voice with the hint of feral promise that lies beneath all the reserve that Hannah naturally has. She will ensure that that scratch is patched up like new.

You sense Dhiammarath is only sure of one thing… well, the one thing other than her lifemate's comfort: LENDAI has officially rated a spot on the rare list of THINGS NOT GOOD FOR HANNAH. The next few months - before she fully forgets this happened - will be… interesting.

Dhiammarath senses that Hannah soothes, winding love and forgiveness like a soft ribbon of velvet rose pedals. Lendai's intentions were in the right spot… but she is too tender-hearted to feel anything beyond the fading effects of fear. She doesn't blame her senior, but she knows better than to try to redirect her lifemate's feelings.


Hannah's voice is like a song from the Angels. The light of the day breaking past any lingering clouds and shinning upon the three tattered beings on those Sands. A cry leaves her throat, this one of relief and happiness. "Thank goodess! I didn't kill her!" But the words 'she's hurt' has the normally overemotional, reckless goldrider shelving that part of herself and getting down to business. Wood is soon shoved out of the away. Away from herself, away from Hannah, away from Dhiammarath. Allowing them all the ability to stand up, at the very least. All the while, Talicanitath finally decides to make an appearance. The gold was off soaking herself in the lake, flirting it up hardcore with Kraakenaeth before she heard the terror in her rider's mind. She's here now, at least, and already flinging away the planks from the bleeding queen. "It's okay, she'll be okay." Lendai's trying to be reassuring, panic bubbling at her mind. But it's a hard hold Talicanitath has over her dragonrider's mind right now. Truly showing who really runs this Weyr when push comes to shove. She's moving around Dhiammarath in a hurried flail, eyes scanning every part where ichor seems to be flowing. "They… they seem shallow. Nothing deep, s'far as I can tell. She got hit with a good amount of splinters, but crackdust! She saved us." No thanks to Lendai. The guilt will come soon enough, however, for now it's all about the other two. "What about you, Hannah? Take stock. Are you okay?" All the while, Lendai does the same. She's bleeding, yes, from numerous cuts and splinters and there's a strange, dull throbbing coming from her wrist. With the adrenalin now starting to fad, the aches and pains are becoming more pointed. So to her wrist her eyes go. Eyebrows rise. Her hand is kind of angled all wrong. It's creepy looking, turning a grotesque amount of colors. Needless to say, Lendai won't be giving out any hand jobs for a while. "…uuuh…"

Dhiammarath thinks. Loudly. Serves you RIGHT.


It's not unlike the moments when the comet was striking Pern is it? Hannah, once the boards are out of the way, takes stock of her lifemate's wound, brushing the blood out of her eye with an impatient hand. The side of the junior's face is not looking all that much better than Lendai's wrist, and the blood that had poured into the woman's eye gives her a ghoulish appearance. "I think I am," the junior is still more concerned with Dhiammarath's cut than her own assortment of scratches, cuts, and bruises. The once pristinely white dress is ripped and torn, and a dirty shade of brown-grey. Her knees are cut and bruises already show on porcelain fair skin. "I don't feel so good, though." She's probably got a concussion, but that pales in comparison to Lendai's wrist, or hell her cheek/eye. "Lendai! We have to get to the infirmary now." Stepping around her lifemate's white-gold foot, she reaches for Lendai's uninjured arm. "I think I can walk. Can you?" Dhiammarath will follow, though the only reassurance is for Hannah; but hey, without her interference, they would have died. So that cut is totally a battle wound. "I… I feel… like I'm going to …" Be sick? Pass out? Maybe both. It's seriously infirmary time.

At fully seeing Hannah's usually lovely face, Lendai winces. Because holy hell that looks painful. "Oh, honey." She says the words, about to hold out both hands towards the junior's head to smother the younger woman in her bust to make the ouchies go away. But she doesn't, any rising of her arms dropped as she's nodding in agreement. "Yes. Yes. Can Dhiammarath walk?" It's bad enough to injure someone else's dragon. Worse yet if that dragon is gold. But to injure someone else's very, very pregnant gold dragon? Oh yeah. There is a special place in Hell for Lendai. Between will not be kind enough for the woman. The sheer guilt of the moment, or the aftermath, grips the Weyrwoman. Unable to breath as she just stares with sheer horrorr at what once was her beautiful junior weyrwoman and her giant dragon. All cut up, blood and ichor flowing, about to throw up all over the sands. And all of this was her fault. Completely. Her. Fault. "Let's go to the infirmary. Right now." Her tone is monotone, all expression wiped off of her face. Pale, even with her tan, blood already drying on her own skin. Her wrist? Completely ignored. It doesn't matter. Because guys. Guys. LOOK AT HANNAH! And poor, poor PREGNANT Dhiammarath. She limps only a little as she moves over towards the junior, holding out a stabilizing arm. "Are you sure you can make it? Perhaps it is best you sit down." A shame the platform is now broken. They could totally use it. HAHAHAHAHA… hahaha… Too soon?

On a normal day, Hannah would have been trying to reassure Lendai, noting the expressions of guilt on the other woman's face, but today, the junior is in no small way more than a little addled. "She … can." Pale skin takes a greenish cast beneath the bruises, dirt, grime and blood. Luckily, for the most part, the actual cut is mostly bluster as face wounds tend to bleed like crazy. "I can. I just want to sit down, but if I sit down, I'm not getting back up." And what drives her is what drives any dragonrider, the senseless force of a lifemate in pain. "It's only… just around the corner." It would be a shame the platform was broken if IT HADN'T TAKEN A LIFE OF ITS OWN AND TRIED TO EAT THEM. "Right? It's not far?" Thin, wavery voice seeks reassurance from Lendai as she curls her arm through her senior's (and friend's) arm. "Your wrist, it's broken. Gotta take care of it. Then we can sleep." Holy Faranth, sleep sounds so good to Hannah right now. Besides which, staying moving and awake is probably better anyway. Even despite everything, Lendai is treated with a broken half-smile, true regret in the one eye that doesn't look like something out of the Pernese Horror Story, "I did like my surprise — the thought behind it. Really sweet. No one's ever done anything like that for me." Hey, we'll ignore the whole, almost killed part and the part where Dhiammarath — the very heavily pregnant Dhiammarath — could easily just bite Lendai in two. She shuffles forward, onward. Probably stopping to hurl along the way. Aaaaaand probably nearly passing out on Lendai a few times. Wretched pair.

"That's right, sweetie. Just around the corner." Lendai does her best to reassure her friend as they make the saddest parade ever out of the sands. Shuffle, shuffle. "Just keep putting one foot in front of the other." Talicanitath walks right next to her great, great however many greats grandmother, giving a shoulders to lean on should the pregnant dragon need it. A laugh, a twinge hysterical, erupts from Lendai, the woman shaking her head back and forth and back and forth. "I'm… I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I should've listened. To everyone. I never thought. I never figured. HOW HARD IS IT REALLY TO MAKE A FUCKING PLATFORM!?" Apparently really, really hard. As the remains of days and days and days of hard work now litter the ground of the Hatching Sands. The recently cleaned and prepped Hatching Sands. Which now need to be recleaned and reprepped in the next few days. Yay extra work for EVERYONE! "If you can every forgive me… every forgive my… my…" Another hiccup bubbles free, any sob that may emerge is pushed down, down, down. A one armed hug goes to Hannah. Lendai falls into companionable silence as the two dragonriders and two dragons make their way to the infirmary. Needless to say any gifts to either junior weyrwomen from here on out will be bought, not hand made. Perhaps Hannah will find a hammer in her weyr, Bailey will have a saw in hers. A weird burn mark on the wooden handles of both where a name might have been. Maybe. Upon getting to the infirmary, each woman and solo dragon is given a thorough check up. Cuts are cleaned, fellis is given, much needed sleep is attained. BUT the most important thing of all has occurred. A lesson has been learned.
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