Who

Doji, Nasrin

What

When there are spirits to uplift…

When

It is sunset of the fourth day of the second month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Central Bowl

OOC Date 29 May 2018 04:00

 

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"Unless that was a suggestion I'd been living under a rock?"


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Central Bowl

Cradled childlike in an easterly mountainous embrace, the steppes of the central bowl nestle cozily between lake and weyr. The latticework of dusty adobe paths spider out from the southerly Weyr Road, wagon-ruts of which curve lazily to the adobe sprawl of the northeastern bazaar. A small footpath, just as abused, ambles away from the lake's shore, travelling over rock and hill to the northern dragonet complex and branching itself due west to end at the entrance of the blessedly cool inner caverns. The abandoned caverns of Igen-that-was lie at the end of one disused tracking. All around, the dizzying heights of the caldera's sharp-sloped sides are pocked here and there with ledges, the weyrs' draconic occupants needing no path to guide their way.


Day is done… gone the sun! From the lake, from the weyr, from the sky!!! All is not quite well, but hopefully things will safely rest because Doji is exhausted. The lanky brownrider practically stumbles out from the dragonhealer's yard into the bowl, pausing to stretch until her back audibly cracks. Only once that's done does she actually take a second to look around at the fading light and blink. "Wait… how late is it?"

Deep in 'conversation' with one of the Weyr's blues is Rajakhelath, drawing out information on the status of his young rider, a senior weyrling. While they didn't get to fly in the day's Fall over Katz Field, they packed about 80% of the firestone used. Below the burnished silhouette of the gold, hearthfire's red warmth, is Nasrin analyzing straps that had partially melted onto Raja's hide. "Late enough dinner's officially crumbs and dirty dishwater," the weyrwoman wryly announces, her hairstyle flopped to one side. "Was there a burrow somewhere?"

The jump that Doji gives when someone actually responds to her question originally addressed to the ether should probably give away the only answer she was expecting was from Raktraeth, wherever he might be lurking. With a little bit of squinting, the brownrider is eventually able to pinpoint Nasrin over there beside her lifemate and a salute is then promptly thrown her way. "Weyrwoman… I'm, I'm not sure. I think I've been holding up wings and bandages since changeover. Unless that was a suggestion I'd been living under a rock?" Not offended, more just curious. And the insinuation would probably be accurate.

Ejueth elongates his neck to allow the vibration in his throat to maximize. His eyes have captured some strings of orange in an otherwise field of messy green. Rajakhelath's responds by lifting the first joint of her wings and casting one back down two beats before the other. She's reacting to the blue's vein of anxiety and trying to get him to suppress it. "No, not at all," Nasrin nullifies any innuendo Doji lives under rubble. "So it was you helping S'raou- you're brave," the elder brownrider a veritable bear to work with. "What was the worst of the injuries today? I saw Teronjeth take a nosedive from Sirocco."

Doji cautiously eyes the vocalizing young dragon and the queen there with him. "His wasn't one of the injured?" She's pretty sure that's a fact, but she turns to Nasrin for confirmation. A few human casualties might have escaped her notice in all the chaos. And from wherever Raktraeth is, he's also been drawn into this conversation. Young minds are something to be nurtured, not allowed to run amok with fear and so the forest's edge will brush up against both blue and gold. Offering promise of shelter and stability and a big ol' mental shoulder to cry on if needed. "S'raou isn't too bad, if you know what he's going to need before he asks." Luckily, Doji's got that at least 60% down by now. As for injuries, the brownrider rubs at her face as she considers. "It's probably be poor Zasanath's wing. It luckily wasn't all of a wing sail, but it was across pretty much the entire length of her wing. She'll be a few months mending." And it's one less dragon filling up the ranks when they need them the most.

"Wing injuries are the worst." Nasrin loops the length of riding straps through a finger gap, doubling it and letting it rest against her palm. "His rider was handling firestone and hurt his pelvic, uh, groin I guess is the better term." Cough. "So no Threadfighting for either of them, though Ejueth sorely missed it. And D'rin is just… sore." Far be it for Nasrin to be a comedienne, but this is almost as good as it gets, folks! "Does this look like an utter lost cause to you or can this part be salvaged with replaced leather?" She shows Doji the strap in question, or tries to, then considers how dim it is outside. "It's hard to see, fused right to Raja's hide, but don't get eye strain."

"Yes," Doji will whole heartedly (or backedly) agree with that as she stretched out. Being a former healer, now turned dragonhealer trainee, the brownrider has a remarkable ability to keep a straight face as even the most embarrassing as injuries. She'd blush about it afterwards. "That is uhh… quite the predicament. Hopefully it will be a reminder that he needs to pay attention to his form and not just brute strength." As for the leather question, Doji will lean in to look when asked. "You know, weyrwoman, I'm always of the opinion that if you have to question it with straps, you should probably replace them. Just not worth the risk."

Rajakhelath's smoky warmth is a woodstove's earnest welcome to Raktraeth's inclusion. While Ejeuth's mindscape is a patron of colors and textures, less real world imagery and more interpretive abstractions. His favorite right now is an ugly-colored ribbed surface, like 1980's corduroy. Rajakhelath resists letting her fire totems torch it to smithereens. "Why risk it indeed," Nas concurs and will see to it the leather might be donated to some Tannercraft apprentices for practice. "Ahhhh, what a day, soon to be what a night- my firelizard is clutching." What is meant to be idle prattle soon lets the junior slowly spin her head toward Doji. Eyebrows softly vault. "…you don't need any do you?"

Raktraeth is definitely the least likely dragon to burn away all problems. The sharp scent of evergreen pierces through the kaleidoscope of colors and textures. When confronted with the ribbed fabric, he attempts to tug this way and that way. Not harsh, but just a nudge here and there to try and soften it out a bit. « Things won't always be that bad. Tomorrow will be better. And the day after that. » And the day after that, draconic memory will have more than likely forgotten problems from the original day. Speaking of Risks, Doji jumps back a bit shaking her head as soon as the mention of firelizard clutches is brought up. "Nooooooooooooo! I've got a whole fair myself. And my weyr— er, boy— er… Kair has three as well." There are EIGHT firelizards between them. That's plenty!

Hoping Doji would say 'yes, of course I could use another firelizard,' Nasrin's brows fall stubbornly flat. Well, she tried. "Think nothing of it, I just thought I'd inquire." A quick gesture and flickering smile means she holds no grudges. Though Doji's inability to properly title her significant other has the weyrwoman all but grinning like a highschooler. "Whatever he is to you, I'm sure you'd like to go to him after a trying day. I suppose I can pledge them off as graduation gifts to some weyrlings." Oh she's good as she lays a palm flat against Rajakhelath to support a lean of stance. "Good work today."

Although it may be hidden by the fading light, Doji is blushing up a storm, regardless of the fact that Nasrin doesn't seem offended by the refusal. "I'm sorry. Although I'm sure you'll be able to find someone to give them a welcoming home. Weyrlings, maybe. Or perhaps something to keep some of the recuperating riders occupied in their convalescence." She'll just offer that up there since she won't be the one having to deal with the desperate creeing of baby firelizards. Although at least the young ones are fairly easy to take care of as long as there's a steady supply of food and oil handy. Doji blushes a bit more at the compliment and ducks her head into a nod. "Thank you. Next time maybe I'll do a little more than fetching." And holding. There was a LOT of holding. "Have a good night yourself, weyrwoman."

Ejeuth's mustard-colored mindscape, now smoothed from Raktraeth, favors some poppy red whorls that end in points. His eye color has improved, so the positive attention is working. Way to go, dragons who start with the letter 'R'! "I'll find good homes for them, thank you for the good suggestions and see you around the yard, Doji!" As needed, Nasrin sometimes can be found helping the dragonhealers.

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