==== September 2, 2013
==== Arianne, V'dean, Caelth, Ekerth
==== Ekerth has an owwie!

Who Arianne, Caelth, Ekerth, V'dean
What Ekerth has an owwie that needs stitching; V'dean is a doubting thomas.
When There is 1 turn 4 months and 0 days until the 12th pass.
Where Dragon Infirmary - Southern Weyr

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Dragon Infirmary
The dragonhealers have made timid inroads into this area: much of the clutter from the infirmary proper has been transplanted to this area, the usable furnishings diverted to the living caverns, leaving this place a miasma of strange, half-rotted and bizarre equipment.


After all of the junk clearing and ichor stain scrubbing that has been done by dragonhealers and punished weyrlings alike (hi Safra!), what's mostly left to be done is more organizing. And today, Arianne is painstakingly creating or sorting records for the weyr's dragons. Past ailments, measurements, quirks… whatever seems relevant that she can put down from memory. This means she's sitting at the makeshift desk they had brought in, while Caelth lounges in one of the nearby wallows keeping a -very close- eye on the entrances. *Very close*.

It could have something to do with that close eye of the brown's, the way Ekerth balks at the large doorway that leads most directly from the bowl. There's a smear of ichor high up on one cheek, glossy with a gloopy coating of some field dressing. While the blue stops to stand at attention with a neat rustling fold of wings, his rider continues on with an ambling stride on into the infirmary. His cap is off, hair loose to be combed through with an absent rake of his fingers as V'dean takes in the recently cleared infirmary before finally settling eyes upon the woman at the desk. "Good afternoon." The rake of his gaze over her and the papers is dubious. "Is there a healer on duty?"

Caelth only watches for people who don't belong there. And to give Arianne an early warning. Which he does, and suddenly her head snaps up and she spins around in the chair before V'dean has even addressed her. "That's me. Dragonhealer. Arianne, rider to Caelth." she offers, giving the bluerider a visual once-over as well to see if he should head into the infirmary proper or not. "What happened here? Rough landing of some sort? Can you lower your muzzle so I can get a closer look, handsome?" She's obviously addressing the dragon there. "You can come in further. Caelth will keep watch on the door." The professional voice of her introduction gives with to a more soothing tone as she speaks.

"Nika's friend," V'dean remembers her as, now, while he washes up against the far side of her desk with a bridge of fingers set in brace upon the surface. But, with that recollection along with her indroduction, there comes a relatively swift amendment: "Wingsecond." The bow-like drop of his chin almost makes the greeting come off as respectful, though the continuing drag of his gaze rather ruins it by remaining a bit smugly skeptical as he takes in the redhead. "V'dean," he mentions his own name in the midst of turning a look over his shoulder to where his blue has resumed motion. "Ekerth found himself a monster of a wherry." The knuckle of his thumb absently lifts to drag over his own scruffed cheek. "Thing put up a bit of a fight." After offering an acknowledging rumble to Caelth, the drab blue settles himself nearer the desk where he can stretch his snout down and put the deep scratch on his cheek within better inspection range.

"That's right." Arianne offers a bright smile, somehow managing to convey a challenge in that gaze before looking back at Ekerth. "I don't think we've met before, V'dean." She clucks her tongue at the mention of a monster wherry, and the brown dragon of hers proffers a grunt of commiseration. "They really do grow them huge around here. We've been thinking of a feline hunt, actually. Nika and I. Ought to be interesting considering their reputed intelligence and size." Continuing the amiable small talk, she steps right up to gauge the depth of the scratch, and gives one brief and solid nod after her inspection. "Well, I can either stitch that up which will have it heal faster. Or, we can try a poultice with a covering bandage. He'll need to be more careful flying and the like with the poultice. But I understand some of them don't like stitches. I will use numbweed though, so it won't hurt." she assures. "I recommend the stitches, personally. We can use just a bit of numbweed and ointment for the scrape on your own cheek. It's not too bad really. And you'll save a trip into the infirmary."

"You're from Igen, aren't you?" V'dean believes, even though he shakes his head in agreement with not meeting before. Not properly, in the absence of proddy goldriders, anyhow. Ekerth is steady under the healer's attentions, a set of lids closing over his placidly whirling eyes as he steels himself against flinching. His rider has turned to lean back into a seat against the desk's edge from where he can watch. His eyes are flinched a bit narrower in sign of the resonated discomfort shared with his blue. "You and Nika? Hunting?" He finds the thought amusing enough to comment on, rhetorical as it may be since he quickly moves on to Arianne's recommendation of treatment. "You would do that? Now?" There's a reluctance as he gestures first to Ekerth's injury and then out to the seemingly empty infirmary. "Don't you have a supervisor or someone, to report to?"

Arianne nods first, at the mention of Igen. "Yes, I transferred down here when the announcement was made calling for volunteers." Arianne supplies, a bit of concern showing up there in her gaze at the flinching of eyes the rider displays. And she heads right for a cloth to clean the wound and some numbweed to apply first. It may be a good thing that her face is turned when he questions her credentials though; and Caelth's eyes start swirling with an array of orange annoyance. His rider was just insulted. But as he is in the infirmary, he doesn't snarl the way he wants to. "Yes, I would do that. Right now. I've been a dragonhealer.. a *full* dragonhealer for over 5 Turns now V'dean. And right now? Now, Tilla I -think- has more experience then I do. But, she also has tits just like me and is not available. So, your choices are me… or a trainee that has never done stitches or applied a poultice before. Your choice." Smile.

There's a bit of a grumble that catches in one of Ekerth's exhales, but otherwise the blue has every appearance of stoicism. His rider, on the other hand, has a darker cast clouding over the greyed calm of his eyes as they follow Arianne in her motions around her infirmary. V'dean plucks absently at his lower lip, catching it between thumb and index knuckle, but this is not enough to prevent the skew of his smirk as she draws his attention to her chest. "Just like…" He just can't help himself from starting, but some semblance of control puts a stop to the thought as he manages to drag his attention back up to chestnut eyes. "Stitches." The decision sounds sure even as he weighs her reaction with the close study of his gaze. "If that's the best." Out his fingers splay in emphasizing gesture from the fiddling at his mouth.

Ugh. Just like a man! "Very funny. I suspect they're not exactly identical." Arianne supplies dryly, while she first finishes cleansing the area of the cut and inspecting it even more closely to be sure there is no dirt or debris there; then applying a thin film of numbweed to the area for blessed relief. "We'll let that settle in a second first, Ekerth. Then I'll stitch." Her own hands are immediately wiped off again before she goes and re-scrubs them with a redwort soap and gathers the needle and felinegut that'll be needed. "You're welcome to watch and see how it's done. I mean, right up next to him while I work. Sometimes they feel better with their rider watching." Whether he's managed to offend her or not, she's very much the dragonhealer while tending the wound. I mean, she wouldn't even -consider- smacking him till after she's finished with making sure Ekerth is looked after at least.

Such forbearance, it is surely the very height of professionalism! V'dean, just like a man, doesn't exactly seem properly appreciative of his unsmacked state. On the contrary, he persists in being rather obliviously cavalier. "So Tilla has tits?" She did say this was all funny, right? As the spread of numbweed echos in his own nerves, the bluerider is scritching fingertips up along his cheek again as he pushes off the desk to move to his dragon's side. There's long-habituated familiarity in the way the blue tucks his wing a little higher as the man fits himself smoothly in a shoulder to shoulder lean. "Five turns, did you say?" he asks after her stated experience. "They have you spend your weyrlinghood in the infirmary, then?" There may be some insult to be had in the dark edge of humor laced at the edges of the assumption.

"Most women do." Arianne only half answers, rolling her eyes as she deftly threads the needle. One that fortunately will not be used to poke out the blueriders eyes with, despite her desperate longing to do so. She settles for a steady little glare before starting the stitching. Small (for a dragon) and even, all while keeping an eye on the color od Ekerth's eyes to be sure he's not in any pain. "No. My weyrlinghood was spent the way everyone else's is. One year of servitude and being put through the wringer. Then I was transferred to Igen because I don't have manparts and Caelth has a temper and High Reaches wanted nothing to do with any of that. -Then- I spent a year assisting in the infirmary and proving my worth. And then another year as a trainee, before I passed my exams." she recites, obviously proud of her achievements. When the final stitch is made, she starts making the knot so that they don't undo on their own.

In exchange for her glare, V'dean has a cheeky dimple. His eyes betray him, though, fixing almost nervously upon the edge of her work he can see around the contours of Ekerth's face. One arm falling into a loose fold, his hand lifts again from the provided prop for his elbow to allow a return to the absent plucking at his lip. Neither this nor Arianne's work with needle and stitch at his dragon's face stops him from slanting another smirk. "High Reaches?" For that he has a quiet chuckle. "They couldn't maintain their tradition of excellence, were they to allow black sheep to stay in the fold." It sounds a lot like common sense presumption, and yet there's perhaps a touch of ruefulness to be found lurking about the edges. "A temper?" Perhaps he should have been more cautious of the brown, earlier, instead of just now turning a look towards Caelth's chosen alcove. Ekerth, too, perhaps cracks an eyelid a little wider - though aside from a slight trace of chartreuse heating the cooler shades of his slow-winding gaze, he seems under no undue distress from the healer's work.

Arianne doesn't seem overly upset about getting the boot from High Reaches. If anything, she unknowingly mimics V'dean's rueful sort of smile. "Something like that." she agrees, stepping back a little so that he has a clear view of her work, right up until the moment she's done and she steps away entirely to drop the needle in the pot used for boiling and sterilizing. "He's very good with injured dragons, and young ones. But outside of the infirmary he has quite a temper, yes. It's gotten me in trouble a time or two. Recently, actually." An affectionate but exasperated glance is cast her lifemate's way. "And that was just because of egregious insult. But, no mind. He's used to what happens in here. How does Ekerth feel? Ask him to move his jaw for me? I want to be sure the stitches are as flexible as they should be."

"Has it?" V'dean lofts his brows as he cranes a look over his dragon's shoulders towards the brown. "It can't have been too much trouble. Wingsecond." There's a touch of emphasis there as his gaze comes sliding back to Arianne. He's stopped fiddling with his lip, the lay of his fingers along his jaw now a static frame of his impertinent smile. "Then again, you and your wingleader seem to be good friends of weyrwoman Hannah." Perhaps leer may begin to be a more appropriate descriptor for his expression. Meanwhile, Ekerth has set his limbs a little more solidly under himself and lifted his head to a more natural height from which he works his jaw tentatively with the run of a dark tongue over bright teeth. "It's not hurting," the rider asides as if it's perfectly normal to mix insinuation with such business. "Not pulling. He shouldn't need to eat for awhile - how long do they need to be in?"

"It was enough trouble. Just because it was handled quietly doesn't mean it wasn't… painful to deal with." Arianne replies with a wince in her tone even if not her expression, head tilting a little bit at the suggestion of just how close she and Nika may be with Hannah. "What's the matter, V'dean. That your first time seeing a proddy Goldrider?" is wondered, her smiling dimpling upward with insufferable cheer. "Well good, then. If it starts to hurt just a very little bit of numbweed will help him. Just bring him in to see one of us in a couple of days to make sure it's healing alright. And once it's closed enough we'll take them out. It shouldn't be more then a sevenday."

The tonal wince makes sure V'dean is paying attention, so it's quick enough that he splits a wider grin at her cheery question. "Oh, hardly," he retorts with syrupy languor. "But these old timers, they do seem to do things with a particular flair." There's a trace of inquiry in his inflection - wouldn't Arianne agree? But more important, if it can be believed, is his dragon's prognosis. He leaves a palm flattened to the blue's shoulder as he straightens from his lean, nodding vaguely at her instructions. "And do you have a bit of numbweed I can take with me?" he wonders with a too-sweet dimpled smile. Also: "When are you on duty again, in a couple of days?"

"They do! And it certainly shakes things up a bit doesn't it?" Obviously, Ari has no issue with this flair. If anything, it seems to provide her with a great deal of amusement. And since she's already right beside the shelves that have the smaller pots of numbweed, she pulls one down to hold out for V'dean while making a note on the records they already have for Ekerth. "I'm on duty every other day right now. Except restdays." she adds, with a questioning glance. She'd bet marks he's asking so he knows what day to -avoid- coming back.

"Shaking. Things." V'dean is giving this turn of phrase all due consideration. Perhaps more consideration than it's due. The slant of his gaze has fallen again from chestnut eyes as Arianne makes her reach for the shelves. With his focus lost, or at least displaced, it takes him a moment to react to the outreached pot. His reach is slow, settling about the offered numbweed as she holds it instead of retracting immediately. "It really is just a girl's club in here," he asks like he can't quite wrap his head around this even though he just watched Arianne stitch up Ekerth. "You. Tilla. Nika…?" If he's asked her schedule in order to avoid her, he's giving no overt indication.

Arianne gives an exasperated sigh at V'dean's apparent focus. On shaking things. One eyebrow raises as they both stand there holding part of the numbweed pot, and she lets go of her side hoping that he's not going to drop the thing. "There are a few male trainees. But all of the full dragonhealers are currently women, yes." is agreed, with an emphasis on women instead of girls, thank you. "You got it. Tilla, Nika, and myself. I'm hoping we have more people ready once threadfall starts. I suspect the beginning of a pass tends to see more injuries then once we've been a few years on and have some experience."

V'dean manages to not drop the pot, though he does keep holding it out there a minute longer. Women. The emphasis brings a soft snort of laughter and tips a touch more skew into his smile. Finally his hand drops away slowly, tucking the little pot into the safety of his jacket's pocket. Ekerth, done with the tentative testing of his jaw's range of motion, has started to back into a retrace of his steps in order to clear the riders and turn back for the passage to the bowl. "Faranth help me," the man is meanwhile sighing a lack of confidence under his breath at the situation Arianne paints. The smile he stretches is rather insincere as he agrees with her more conversationally about increased readiness: "Hopefully." Until then, he looks to be retreating in the wake of his blue. "Thanks for the stitches, Arianne." And for the numbweed, presumably, given the way he waves the tail of his coat from his still pocketed hand.

"Clear skies, V'dean. We'll all be just fine." Arianne heard that muttered oath under the breath there. Her own return smile seems sincere enough, and she waves to Ekerth before he turns to head out the entrance. "You're welcome. One of us will see you in a few days." And once they are out of sight, she sits back down at her desk to finish up whatever writing she was engaged in beforehand.

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