==== November 15th, 2013
==== Teyaschianniarina, S'kyre, Kyara
==== Bum shoulders (and a hypochondriac dragon) result in a chat in the dragonhealer yard.

Who Teyaschianniarina, S'kyre, Kyara
What Bum shoulders (and a hypochondriac dragon) result in a chat in the dragonhealer yard.
When Sunset. There are 8 months and 15 days until the 12th Pass.
Where Dragonhealer Yard, Igen Weyr


Dragonhealer Yard
Painfully elegant, a stubborn brand of cleanliness is retained in the gentle colors of faded murals and various curtains hung from the rusted metal poles meant to shelter injured dragons on spacious couches lining the permanently soot-stained limestone walls. Of a dusty no-color somewhere between brown and gold, the floor extends onward, fading beneath ragged cabinets built to withstand anything from lashing draconic tails to various medicinal spills.

It is the forty-second day of Spring and 67 degrees. Despite being clear, dry and sunny over the Weyr proper, a thunderstorm drenches the outer reaches of Igen's desert.

Sunset over Igen, and the desert's night-chill is beginning to seep into the air - there's a thunderstorm rolling in, but still far enough that the weyr is dry. Just windy, and cool. There is bluerider exeunt, brownrider remaining: conversation quiet, but they break apart with a short laugh and easygoing salutes; Trek disappears out toward the weyr proper, while Teyaschianniarina remains. She is not alone, though: Ryglinath is also in attendance, profoundly stubbornly still in a way that signals great (if pointedly polite) disapproval. "If you'd have taken it easy when this first happened," Teya tells her lifemate as she strides back toward him, voice pitched to carry - oh! voice pitched to carry. "Then you'd be spending less time on the ground now." As she strides, she toss-catches a tight-stoppered jar of something, and there is a hint of a grin playing at the corners of her off-skewed mouth. "So you don't even get to complain about the smell, mister." The smell? Oh. The jar apparently contains some sort of poultice or liniment, as Teya unstoppers it, stows the cork, and dips her fingers into the contents and waggles them at her lifemate. "Hold still."

S'kyre follows after Atsusath as the drab brown pads across the bowl and towards the healer's yard. "Seriously Ats, y'er fine. I looked you over for over an hour mate. Y'er fine." The grumbling whuffle from the dragon gets the brown's rear flank a slap. "Fine, but the healer's not going to find anything." He rolls his eyes at a passing apprentice, and then grins. Clearly his brown is setting him up for something, Ats may not be the prankster that S'kyre is, but he has been known to pull a prank on the man that follows behind him from time to time.

Enter one green pair from different directions - Liareth pads into the dragonhealer yard from a sunny spot she's been enjoying out in the Bowl, coming to meet Kyara, who is making her exit from the nearby infirmary. The greenrider…looks alright, now, though this wasn't the case a little while ago, and she carries her left arm bent and held close to her torso, fingers relaxed over her stomach as she passes along the wall. Ryglinath fills her vision from there, and she blinks over at his rider. "Evening, Teya," she calls to the brownrider, just loud enough to be heard as she sketches a salute. "What's going on with Ryglinath? Are you two alright?" Liareth has to make sure that hers is alright before she acknowledges the brown more properly, whuffling thoroughly at Kyara until her lifemate grins and reassures her aloud before turning her gaze to Ryglinath and uttering a little croon - greeting and sympathy. S'kyre's entry gets a little wave from Kyara for the moment.

Ryglinath is, if anything, polite - he extends his wing without further prompting from his lifemate, and settles lower against the ground to allow the indignity of being tended to. "Evening, Kyara," Teya answers with a salute of her own, wrinkling her nose and making a face of her own as this passes her be-gooped hand by her face. "I am allowed to complain, though," is half-directed back to Ryglinath, after which Teya adds a salute to her fellow brownrider. "Pulled something - sprain or a strain, one of those. Supposed to keep off of it," and subsequently out of the air, which obviously chafes the brown somewhat, "for a few more sevens, keep working this stuff into it. You okay?" Someone didn't miss where Kyara entered from. Ryglinath returns Liareth's greeting with a low rumble, extending it farther to include Atsusath as well.

Atsusath rumbles a greeting to Ryglinath and Liareth while S'kyre gives Teya a salute. Kyara's arm is given a cursory look. "Ouch," he offers his wingmate. "Ats, y'er fine. I'm tellin' ye if ye weren't we'd have been here so much sooner." The brown grumbles, but look close and there is just the faintest tinge of amusement swirling round in his multifaceted eyes, "Ryglinath truly has an injury and is grumbling because he can't get in the air, ye lazy git." This is said with grin, because that's just who he is. "How long's the sling there for?" is asked of Kyara.

One of the dragonhealer trainees Kyara and Liareth both became familiar with during weyrlinghood has, naturally, spotted the pair and comes into view a bit beyond the green. When he waves, Kyara waves back, and Liareth proceeds to follow the man around the other side of Ryglinath, giving Atsusath a teasing poke to the side in greeting with her nose. This is a apparently a routine that requires no words at this point; the trainee goes about checking Lia's hide as Kyara watches Teya tending to her own lifemate. "How'd he manage that?" she questions with a sympathetic bit of a frown. Then she smirks a little at S'kyre, raising an eyebrow as she slowly extends the favored arm to poke him. "What sling? I'm just glad you didn't see how I did it." Back comes the arm, and she winces a tad. "I took a tumble during my run this morning. Didn't quite dislocate my shoulder, but it's all sorts of pretty colors." She gives a dry chuckle. "Faranth. I haven't hurt myself like this since being in the barracks."

A chuckle is given as Atsusath almost noses Liareth, but then remembers he's supposed to be injured. A nod is given. "Been there a few times," he says to his wingmate. Then Teya's brown is given a look. "Hope Ryglinath is feeling better soon. Ats here? He's just playing." Because S'kyre knows his brown, and he knows that Atsusath is really just looking for an excuse to drag him through the Weyr.

Despite the grumbling from both parties, it's clear that Teya and Ryglinath both are, by now, practiced at this: he moves so she has a better angle, she rubs in with care for the muscles beneath his copper-brown hide. "Don't knock the hypochondriacs too much, S'kyre," Teya offers the younger brownrider, "at least they come in." Is that a jab at Ryggles? From the way he adjusts himself to a more dignified crouch - yes, probably. "We were practicing some tricky flying when Ofrovth went ::between::, and he pulled out wrong and we," she makes a gesture with one hand, tipping it to the side and then plummeting, "and he caught himself hard when he pulled out of it. Then kept flying on it for a few days because he's a pain." That is definitely directed at Ryglinath. "Sorry to hear about your shoulder, too. I'm glad that it's not worse. From the way you were carrying it," she mimics the gesture, "I thought maybe it was something else." The hand over her stomach rotates a little, indicative, before she goes back to rubbing medicinal stinky stuff into Ryglinath's shoulder.

S'kyre eyes Kyara for a moment, then shakes his head. "Oh, he just likes to make me chase after him from time to time," S'kyre answers, before he's chuckling at his dragon. "Ats will fight against coming to see the healers when he's really hurt. It's just a game he likes to play from time to time just to see if I'll chase him." Which of course S'kyre does, as evidenced by his following the smaller brown into the healer's yard.

Kyara gives a quiet "ohhh" at Teya's explanation, eyes darkening a little over the event that brought the injury on. Then the brownrider's comment about how she's carrying her arm earns a moment of puzzlement - but only a moment. "Oh." The arm drops to her side as self-consciousness over it sets in, though she laughs a little. "It's just the most comfortable that way… Hmm. Maybe it'd be better to get a sling, then. Though W'rin would probably kill me if he saw it." Because there's no time for injuries, of course! She gives S’kyre a wry headshake and then glances past Ryglinath to see Liareth finishing up with the trainee across the way. "Any idea when you guys might be able to get flying again?" she asks, then adds with a chuckle, "Aside from what he thinks is the best answer?"

Teyaschianniarina flashes a grin, bright, but there's just a hint of apology in the laugh that follows. "Maybe you should - I'm just used to seeing a lot of that, after a goldflight. Injured shoulder makes more sense," and probably should have been her guess, given Ryglinath's state. Speaking of: she deems him suitably rubbed down, and caps the jar. Then wipes her fingers against the outside seam of her pants. "A sevenday or two, according to Trek - depending on if he keeps off it and doesn't re-strain anything." Ryglinath huffs. Teya ignores the noise. To S'kyre, she adds, "It looks like he definitely has your number."

S'kyre gives Teya a wry grin, and a nod. "That he does." He watches Ats settle himself in a fading patch of sunlight. "I think he likes coming to the healer yard because of the sunlight. Any excuse is better than none at all."

Flushing a little - because it's just what she does; there's no getting around it when it comes to such matters, she's decided - Kyara reaches over and gingerly massages her shoulder, trying to get it to relax a little more in the more normal position. "I'd hope I'm being pretty careful on that count," she murmurs, then smiling at the trainee as he saunters over with Liareth close behind and hands Kyara a satchel with a few small pots of salve in it. "Thanks. See you next month. Hopefully not sooner." With a farewell of his own, the man disappears back toward the ground weyrs, and Kyara nods at Teya's evaluation of Ryglinath's recovery. "That's not too bad. Though I know not being able to fly for any amount of time has to be frustrating." Then she chuckles over Atsusath, grinning lopsidedly at S'kyre. "He's like a big brown feline. Look at him curl up in it."

S'kyre nods and smiles lopsidedly at the brown. "Yeah, he's just really determined to have his own way sometimes." A second look is given to Kyara. "Try soaking that shoulder. It'll loosen the muscles enough to let the shoulder pop back into place." A suggestion born of much experience. A snort is given at something Atsusath says, and then he says aloud, "Come on you. Let's go; y'er losin' the light anyway."

"You're allowed to just come and visit, you know," Teya offers to Atsusath, allowing Kyara a few moments to gather herself and attend to her actual business. "I don't think anyone would mind." Don't quote her on that, admittedly. "It is, I wish we were still drilling - but we're still working on the technical side. N'thu's running drills, and we're watching and providing commentary from the ground, so it's not - so awful. Fortunately we're both pretty active, outside of it." It's also possible that the wing runs occasional ground drills now, too.

"Thanks. That was next on my list, actually," Kyara answers her wingmate, saluting as he and Atsusath appear to be on their way out. "See you later." Liareth sits down nearby, giving the greenrider a nice spot to lean against…except she moves to do this on her left shoulder out of habit, hissing at the mistake and quickly shifting to place her back against the tall foreleg instead. "That's good." Absently stated, as she waits for the twinge to subside a little. "How're Vashae and We'bey doing on Parhelion?" she questions, folding her arms. "Seems like I hardly get to see them these days." Not that she expects them to be doing other than brilliantly, in their own ways. It's just nice to hear how her clutchsibs are doing. Not to mention it's a die-hard habit, this whole checking in on them bit.

A rumble of complaint is given from Atsusath as he gets to his feet and pads off towards the Central Bowl. S'kyre laughs at the retreating form of his dragon. "Yeah, he knows. He just likes to have an excuse. Not that we don't get plenty of sun on our ledge!" shouted after the rumbling grumble from the brown. "Ground drills just aren't the same though. Yeah, you get the idea but nothing is better than being in the air," and then he's off trailing his lifemate. The silly thing just wanted a bit of sun it seems.

"Yeah, but - we're doing what we can, so it'll have to be enough - for now, anyway!" Teya salutes as S'kyre leaves, then turns her attention back to Kyara. In her case, it's her lifemate's bum shoulder that she's avoiding, so they do a little bit of reshuffling of their own so that 'rider can lean against dragon. "They're both staying out of trouble - they're both solid wingriders. We're still working with Vashae to get Jovianth's timing issues to - not be. Issues, I mean, during drills and mock-falls. They've come a long way!"

Kyara chuckles, giving a slight shake of her head. Issues with Jovianth? Surely not. "Good to hear," she says, amused. "I mean, not the issues part, but…it was always something that happened when we were weyrlings, too. I'll bet Jovianth gets to be something else, when actual Thread comes along, though." She reaches back to rub fondly at Liareth's leg. "Being part of Whirlwind has definitely laid bare some of our own shortcomings; that's for sure. Lia likes to push herself a little too hard sometimes. We've got to work on keeping the enthusiasm reigned in." Liareth rumbles with a bit of discomfiture, and Kyara lightly clouts her foreleg again. Then she frowns a little, a new thought suddenly coming up to the front of her mind. "Teya…have you ever had dreams about Thread?" A seemingly unrelated tack…but not really.

"I have absolutely no idea what having a lifemate like that must be like," is clearly teasing, but affectionate in tone toward both her own lifemate and Kyara's. She and Ryglinath both tip their heads at the same time - a gesture that is seemingly random, except that it brings both of their heads together for a brief moment. It's unconscious, and it doesn't last long, but it's there. Kyara's question might come as a surprise, but then again - with the Pass bearing down on all of them, not entirely. "…Sometimes," the young wingsecond answers after a moment's quiet. "Some. I was born after the Interval started, but I had cousins who weren't, aunts and uncles and my father who all flew during the Pass, so it's never been entirely out of our minds. My mind, anyway. I also worried a lot," like she doesn't still; at least it's a little more directed, these days. Even though Kyara is no longer in any way under her command, there is still genuine - if professional - concern as Teya furrows her brow and asks, "Why, have you been?"

That tease, and the simultaneous tip of heads, has Kyara laughing appreciatively, though the accompanying smile ebbs as she nods in response to Teya's question. "I've had two now," she replies, gaze drifting skyward a bit. "One a few months ago…another last night." Maybe that's why she was so tired she tripped over that rock and fell this morning. "I've…had to watch every rider I know get taken down by Thread, both times. I've talked to Sienna about it, too… I guess it just helps to know I'm not the only one." With a sigh, she looks at the brownrider again. "I know they're just dreams. I guess I just get to thinking about stuff the newest of us are still figuring out, and I worry." No surprise there! "There's less and less time for it, you know? A banged-up shoulder isn't going to have anything on Threadscore…" With a soft, disparaging sound, she shakes her head as if to free it from the thought. "Sorry. Just thinking aloud. I know all the work will pay off when the time comes."

"The first few Falls are going to be brutal," is quiet, earnest and a little bit sorrowful but no less blunt for it. "We're preparing as much as we can, as hard as we can, but there's no way to really be ready, not entirely. So the first few Falls are just going to be awful, and we- we'll have to go in with that already in our heads, you know?" It's still quiet, and here Teya's rank bears little weight; her own youth shows, even in the face of determination. "It sounds fatalistic but I don't mean it to be. If we're prepared going in, then it won't be as much of a shock when it happens - and we'll have the dragonhealers ready, and the healers, and - it doesn't make it less scary, but maybe … more manageable?" Faint hope, there.

Kyara simply listens quietly, amber eyes dark as she hears the familiar words yet again…though hearing it again, now, feels as though it weighs a little more somehow. "Yeah," is her quiet return, and she sighs again. "I know you don't mean it to…but you're right. There are plenty of us worrying about it; we will be prepared, at least. Able to manage." Hope, however faint, is a welcome thing to detect, and Kyara gives the brownrider a small smile for it. The greenrider shifts again, winces, and then stands away from Lia, rotating her shoulder a little. "Ah. Well. I'd better go take care of this a some more, but…thanks for talking a little, Teya." A salute, and she gathers up her satchel full of medicine. "I'll see you around again, I'm sure."

Teyaschianniarina rubs an absent hand against her leg, the heel of her left hand against her thigh, then turns the gesture into pushing off away from her lean against Ryglinath. "We'll be as prepared as we're able," has a little more assurance behind it, "and I have a lot more confidence in that preparedness now than I did when we first came forward - even Sandblast weighs less heavily on my mind, now." And how. "Thanks for talking, Kyara," she answers back, with a matching small-smile, "and listening. You take care of yourself, and we'll see you around." Teya salutes, crisp and clean, and glances up at the sky - where the distant storm is finally getting closer - as she says, "Clear skies."

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