====October 20, 2013
====Aife, Donatien, V'dean
==== Aife is (wo)manning the infirmary when a rider and a cobbler appear.

Who Aife, Donatien, V'dean
What Aife is (wo)manning the infirmary when a rider and a cobbler appear.
When There are 0 turns, 11 months and 6 days until the 12th pass.
Where Infirmary, Southern Weyr

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The clutter has been removed, and the Healers have moved in: even now the hearth has been commandeered to make more of that soothing tissane that aids in sinuses unused to Southern's allergens; shiny tables of oldtime metal have been moved in from being found unused in storage, acting well as examining slabs. Curtains section off areas, and the general waiting area is on the far side from the hearth, to maximize coolness in the dead-air heat of Southern's interior.

The infirmary at this moment is mostly empty save for a few healers - and then one Aife. She's in the back as usual for her, having just come from behind a partition of one of their patients with a cup in hand. Her wild hair is free about her face as she returns to a table with a stack of hides. She's easy to spot from the entrance, of course - if not by her hair alone.

It's really too hot for leathers, but there V'dean is, walking in with his riding trousers on and light-lined jacket bunched up under one somewhat ripe armpit. That'd be the boring arm — the other is held out in front of him with elbow at and angle a little narrower than ninety degrees so he can pin a look of irritation on the seep of blood that's stained his shirt cuff and leeched into the handkerchief wadded around his hand under the pinky. With that hair, it's Aife that cool green eyes find first. "Hi," he says simply, letting the wave of his hand speak for itself. His gaze is quick to drop from hair to curves, expression losing some of its scowl in the process.

It's one of those days where Donatien is not having a good one - making his way slowly into the Infirmary, a reluctant, hang-dog expression is quickly hidden behind the smooth, calm face of inevitability. He looks around, standing as true as his knees will take, eyes passing over each healer until he spots a certain head of hair, and then Dien grins. And then look, there's that young man from the Tavern. "Good morning, Bluerider V'dean," he says, coming up behind the man, "That looks painful." Because you know what's great for interpersonal conversation? Pointing out the obvious, but Dien follows that with a grin, then looks over to Aife, smiling while he intones seriously, "Healer, this man requires help immediately." Stirring urgency, of /course/. He can wait.

Aife sees V'dean coming, right as she's about to sit down behind her designated table. And then she sees that hand he waves and there she goes, straightening back up. "Hey yourself, rider," is her greeting, coming around the table, showing her great healer hospitality by holding out a hand for him to come forward and give his own hand over as she asks - a brow lifting at the trail of his gaze, in the process, of course - "Let me guess. His face hit your hand, or…?" Then she meets Donatien's gaze, and there's a soft snort just for him as she adds in, her head tilting to see past V'dean, "Dien," in greeting before her gaze briefly dips to his legs. "You look like you're about to collapse on those. Take my chair while I treat this, hm?" There's a slight smirk before she's back on the bluerider, waiting.

"Journeyman," V'dean manages brightness as he turns a look over his shoulder to Donatien. "Just stings a little," is his claim with a wrinkled nose, all cavalier no-big-deal. "Pretty sure I'll survive." A quiet chuckle hums in his lungs as he steps up to Aife, giving over both his attention and his hand. "No face. Just a tree. That bastard came out of nowhere," he jokes. Releasing the bend of fingers that holds the kerchief into his palm will let it fall away and reveal the lacerations sliced into the meaty outer edge. "They grow some sharp leaves around here - guess that's why all that fruit was still hanging." His little story given, the bluerider swings an inquisitive look between cobbler and woman. "You're a healer?" he checks with the latter - pardon the skepticism.

Donatien is entirely non-plussed about V'dean's injury: sometimes these things just happen. He is much more plussed, or at least pleased, as he moves to ease himself into Aife's offered seat, "Thanks kindly." Yes, yes, he chortles quietly to himself at the blue-rider's explanation, "Trees are tricky," is his only offer there. As to Aife's Healer status, Dien just looks over at her, minus any sign of skepticism, "I'd imagine it hard to justify spending so much time here, otherwise." And really, would that be the strangest thing down here at Southern?

"A tree did this, huh?" Aife takes V'dean's hand gently, letting amused skepticism seep into her tone as she studies it. When he tells more of it, even, "I hear trees do have that tendency to do so when their fruit's about to be stolen. You're lucky it didn't suddenly maul you from behind, Fruit Thief." Her grin is a touch brighter as she returns his gaze and adds in quickly once she sees the lacerations, "Not too bad-looking. V'dean, is it? I'm certain you'll survive the tree's aggressions this time." She turns and releases his hand to step over to where the supplies are stores behind the table, consulting the shelves there as she says, "I'll need to clean it first, and of course I'm a healer." She pauses to look back over her shoulder at him for his question. "Don't I look it?" She asks in utmost seriousness, Chin dropping and everything. Passing Dien a smirk for his words on the subject, "I'd be worried if I come back over there with a knife in hand, suggesting that it heals all wounds," she adds, and when she turns back, she only has a cup and a cloth of something to clean with his wound with. No knife.

Amusement sparks withing the cool of his gaze as V'dean matches the healer's look. Dien's offer gets another breath of chuckle. "Tricky and prickly — I have, seemingly, choosen a dangerous past time." In his fruit thieving ways. A nod for Aife confirms his name. "Blue Ekerth's," he adds in full disclosure. As she walks to her shelf, he takes a moment to adjust the wedge of his jacket and flick an assessing glance to the cobbler. His gaze isn't gone so long that he misses that serious backward look. It skews his expression, a brow rising as his dimple furrows. "You look…" He takes a long breath and just turns it into a grin. Knives. Yes, he's quite glad not to see one in her hands. "Do you two know each other from South Boll?" is wondered conversationally as he tugs his sleeve a little further back from the injury.

"When there is time for adventure," Donatien starts philosophically, but shakes his head, not continuing. Aife's smirk is met with a guileless little lift of eyebrows. V'dean's question, however, gets a surprised huh from the Weaver, "From Boll?" he asks, and smooths into a smile, rubbing his left knee slowly, "I met the Healer here, soon after I arrived. She keeps insinuating I should visit for my knees' sake, and this is the first I've had the chance." A look to the much younger V'dean, "Arthritis," he says by way of explanation, "And why I don't run anymore." T'is a sorrowful tale, but Dien is grinning. "Nothing nearly as exciting as being attacked by trees."

Reaching for his hand again, "It's not right to leave healers currently fixing your hand in suspense, you know," Aife shows in faux loftiness, her teeth clicking together as she starts work on cleansing the lacerations. "I might make a mistake in my shuddered anticipation for you to finish that statement." It's said deadpan, even, well content in engaging in banter along with fixing his injury. "And, anyway, I've dabbled in fruit stealing myself, so I can understand the appeal - right into bleeding hands in the end. Well met, by the way. Name's Aife." But then V'dean asks after her and the cobbler, and she steals a look over her shoulder at Dien as her hands work to clean the blood off his hand. A brow lifts in askance at him. "You're from South Boll?" she asks Dien openly, letting him field answering V'dean's question. There's short laughter for the cobbler at something else he says and she turns back to examine her work on V'dean's hand before she reaches back for cloth strips to bind his hand up with.

Fancy that, a fellow fruit stealer. "Have you, now?" The bluerider's smiles are a rather constant, if shifting, thing. "Aife. Who certainly improves the overall appearance of her profession," is his tooth-flashing nod to the dangerous suspense he's kept her in. "Hence the swimming," he'll next recall of Donatien, slanting the older man a smoother edge of his smile. As for Boll, though he brought it up, V'dean will leave them to suss out as he quiets to leave his attention seemingly distracted by watching the tree-won cuts cleaned out to wetly glistening slashes before those bindings start to weave protectively over. For all his skepticism and his cheek, his hand at least remains wholly given over to the healer as she completes her work.

See, that's how much Dien didn't meet Aife at Boll; the Weaver grins as if to say, 'see?' He offers a little shrug to Aife, "Well, WeaverHall, so essentially, yes." He's certainly not going to disagree with V'dean's assessment of modern Healing's best poster-woman, but Dien is ready to speak to other topics after a brief nod to V'dean. "So, this fruit-stealing… Is it because the fruit quality in the Caverns is lacking? Or is the adventure of dodging dodgy trees? And, which fruits are you out stealing?"

With his wound cleaned, Aife starts to bandage V'dean up as the three of them talk. She's quick but confident with her fingers, the short chuckle openly given for his smooth answer. "Don't let Eiren over there hear you tell it," she gives in an almost whisper with a jerk of her head towards a blonde healer near the entrance. "She doesn't need anymore reasons to despise me." Not that she cares, since she's smiling as she says it. Dien's answers to his origins get her attention, a nod given as she considers it. "Just weaverhall, then? Born and raised?" Dien's questions to V'dean on fruit stealing has her set to listening as she wraps.

There's a blonde, too? V'dean will twist a shameless look about to eyeball the other woman by the entrance. He's still eavesdropping, though, if the inquisitive little twitches of his brows are any indication. The bluerider certainly isn't about to provide any additional detail regarding Boll, so he sticks to thieving instead. "Sometimes you just want something sweet," he answers the other man's last with a look that nevertheless tips across to Aife through a low brush of lashes. More straightforward: "We spotted the tree out on sweeps, thought it looked like a good time for a snack. I don't even know if it is edible, to be honest." And after wounding himself in the pursuit, there's no wonder he quirks a little sheepishly at that.

Donatien nods once, "That's right. Then I started my journeying and rarely go back." With a handwave around the room, Dien adds, "With all this beauty here, not even WeaverHall can compare." A look over in the direction Aife indicates gets a little quirky grin, but now there's fruit-stealing talk, "Surely one of the cooks can test that. They seem a pretty competent sort, overall. Or maybe there's an alcohol to be made of it." So many possibilities! Dien watches the hand-wrapping for a moment, falling silent in thought.

V'dean's quip on sweet earns him a soft but amused snort from Aife, finishing up his bandaging and checking to make sure that it's wrapped properly. "So you risked injuring yourself for a snack that could've been…poisonous," she surmises from what he answers on, lifting his bandaged hand up slightly and turning it this way and that. "A thief and a risk-taker. I'll keep that in mind knowing that redfruits just aren't safe when you're around, V'dean." She lets go of his hand then, nodding towards it before she tacks on, "Try to hold off thieving from unsuspecting trees for at least a seven? And stop by here in half that time so that I can make sure it's healing up right. We might be able to get those bandages off sooner." To Dien when he answers on his origins, "Men and beauty," is her wry comment, shaking her head as she starts to clean up the supplies on the table. "I do imagine that South Boll must be a different sort of place than here in the south. I'm still adjusting myself. This is nothing like the Healer Hall, nor Benden."

"There is a lot of attractive scenery," V'dean is on board with Dien, beaming at Aife, even if she's dismissing their fixation. "No, me?" the bluerider murmurs out aimlessly as he retakes possession of his bandaged hand, holding it up to give a little testing wiggle of fingers in front of his face. "I'm harmless." His innocence would play better if he could let go of the smirk twisting his dimple into place and crinkling about his eyes. "Yes, ma'am," he plays at dutiful for her instructions, tipping those fingers from his temple before taking better hold of his jacket. And while there's a thread of curiosity still tying him to the conversation, he also is slipping a step backward now to be on his way. "Healer Aife, I'll see you soon. Journeyman Donatien," a little bow of his head, "pleasure to run into you again — good luck with those knees." And with one more flash of smile, the rider will see about getting about his day.

Donatien is not ashamed of his preferences, and shrugs, "I only truly started to appreciate South Boll when I was away from it. Bitra, Fort, Telgar - each lovely in their own unique way." Well, mostly. V'dean's rising brings Dien back to the room and he nods to the bluerider though he doesn't rise to his feet, "Likewise. My greetings, as always, to your blue." As V'dean leaves, Donatien looks up from his chair and looks so put upon, "Does this mean I have to get up now?" Pern needs rolly office chairs.

"Yeah, I've said that line more than once myself," Aife quips on being harmless, the crooked smile causing her cheek to dimple. "See you around, Bluerider V'dean." There's a little play of a two finger salute from her temple as she watches him head out, and then, once she turns to Donatien for his response, she shakes her head and answers, "Stay there, Journeyman. Let's have a look at that leg. You focus on telling me more about Boll." Because, why not? Clearly he's used to her being so nosy by now!

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