There should be a path worn in the ground for all the visitors making a pilgrimage to Linny. Perhaps the ease of Threvobek's walk is made possible by the good health offerings and pattern of rose petals lining the way to the infirmary. The stablehand isn't accosted but does pass by two individuals eyeing the small bouquet of handpicked wildflowers—okay, flowering weeds, but this is a -desert-. He is expecting the dragonrider to be asleep, or entertaining company and so the full smell of the stables is born on his shoulders. Mission: sneak in, plant the flowers, leave.

Unfortunately for that plan, the goldrider has been doing rather well as of late, and the Healers have been talking less and less about her losing her hand. Not only that, but they have been decreasing her amount of fellis, which means Linny is more conscious than she is out of it, and whether of not her bronzeriding guardian likes it, that means one thing: hidework. With her left hand wrapped in a bandage, and with one covering her upper back score as well, Linny is propped up on an extraordinary amount of pillows done in such a way that she can sit up and relax without putting pressure on her back wound. And so there she is, dressed in comfy clothes while she catches up on the hidework she's been denied since her injuries.

Threvobek is humbled by the table contents adjacent to the weyrwoman's cot: amaryllis-like blooms in vases, an embroidered pair of gloves, figurines made of crystal, and pretty sure that's a slab of packaged caramel… a silent 'Faranth' comes from his mouth. Eyes dart quickly to Linny's location and his wad of thin-stemmed flowers are placed besides the gifts. Behind a ceramic statue of—is that F'lar? Way behind.

Linny glances up, then back down to her hidework, but soon immediately back up as the hide rests on her lap, tilting her head to the side as she takes in Threvobek and the flowers. "Who're those from?" Lips curl up into more of a smirk, more of old self returning to light her dark brown eyes beneath lashes. "Surely not from you." Since she doesn't remember having the pleasure of his…company. "Did they come with a card?" Since after she recovers, the goldrider is going to need a whole day to write up 'thank you' cards to everyone who has sent a get well gift to her and keeping track of who sent what is of upmost importance right now.

Quick-thinking, Threvobek's hands snatch a crystal kitten figurine. "This is just something little from me." Instant upgrade! Thank you, person with expensive taste and no card. "You don't know me from dust, weyrwoman, I'm Rev, stableworker here, but I know you were injured. Consider it Igen hospitality." After a small step he refuses to allow his scent come any closer. "Glad to see you're gaining ground. I'll uh, be on my way." A perfect grin and he's putting his gift of kitten where it once was.

"Aww, you're so sweet!" Linny all but purrs out, smile directed solely up at him as she allows her eyes to roam over the new additions to her ever-growing collection of well wishes. The goldrider lets him put the figurine down, allllmost letting him turn to leave before she says, "That was a gift from Lady Chustihana." The figurine. She still wears a smile, and surprisingly, the only addition to her expression are raised brows. "She delivered it herself." Which is why there is no card. "But I admire your guts, kid. Got some balls on you." And so she'll just sit there, watching him with those arched eyebrows, waiting to see how he smooth-talks his way out of this one.

Threvobek winces with the eye furthest from Linny. There isn't a way to honeydew out of this one, so facing the music, and clearning his throat, Rev declares with a winsome smirk: "In that case, the ear's chipped." Posture relaxing at the hip, the teenager goes to grip the original bouquet already starting to wilt. "This is what I truly brought, they were fresh off the plateau. Fought a horned ovine for 'em." That lie might redeem him.

"Are you sure? Or did you steal them from the ovine?" Linny questions him, brows ticking up just slightly higher, is that your final answer?, and then she shifts her gaze to the flowers, lips tugging back into more smiles for the stranger. "They're beautiful. Completely unnecessary, but I thank you just the same, Rev." Index finger on her right hand points to where she's, apparently, collecting a garden's worth of flowers. "Be a dear and put them with the rest." She would, but that left hand of hers, well, it's still a work in progress.

The infirmary's stony coolness finally has sunk through his first few layers of skin and for a moment the areas once sweat shiny have goosebumps. Rev rubs at the ones above his wrist, grinning lightly. "I got them fair and square, I promise." After a bit of floral manipulation he worms his bouquet in with another grander example. "Someone has a lot of friends or at least political alliances. Either way you win right?"

"If you call this winning," replies the goldrider, lifting that bandaged left hand off of the cot beside her, waving it just slightly before she winces, replacing it to its comfortable home. "More political alliances, honestly, which…is sad, but…" Linny trails off, looking pensive for a moment before she waves her hand at the gift collection with her right hand before picking that hide back up to continue reading. "If you see anything you like there, feel free to take it. Just don't tell anyone you got it from me." Because then Linny would have some 'splaining to do.

Threvobek looks sheepish for his lack of (good) judgment. "No ma'am, I can't say an extended stay in the infirmary with a scoring is anything to wish for, but you seem to have things under control and that's something." Rev continues hogging up entrance space, one journeyman snaking by in repeated trips. The stablehand doesn't begrudge him a cubic foot of space. "Thanks, but nothing there is exactly my taste. The caprines would eat the flowers, and everything else would be broken or stolen. Speaking of which," turning a shade more protective, "these should be imported somewhere safe unless you actually want them to go missing. I gotta admit," handling the statuette of F'lar, "I would pay for this to be robbed."

"Well, I'm missing my bodyguard," and the only good hand she's got gestures to the now-empty seat beside her. "Not to mention the gold dragon hovering around outside. If anyone wants to try to steal something from me, I welcome it." Linny reaches over to pick up the corner of her pillow, allowing a peek of the blade she's got stashed underneath there to be seen for just a flash of a second before she clears her throat, covering it up. "I'm not a stupid woman." To have all of her unearned glory to be out in the open without some sort of protection, especially when she's down a punching hand.

Bodyguard, big dragon, hidden weapon… dang. Threvobek pins his lower lip with a strip of teeth for a second. "You -do- think of everything, now I feel a little better." Setting the statue down, Rev must be the only one grateful for the smell of antiseptic—one of the few things as strong as barn smell. "I got to meet your son Linden the other day, thoughtful kid. Say, there anything I can do you for before I leave?"
Like break the tacky statue and make it look like an accident…

"Yeah. Stay away from my daughter." Who will go without a name for that exact reason. Instantly, face breaks out into a large, self-amused smile, but then it easily slips into something more genuine as Linny shakes her head. "No. Thank you very much, Rev, for both the flowers and your company." Preparing to once again be back at work reading the hides in front of her, the goldrider readjusts her position slightly, finding that comfortable spot, before dark eyes are glued back on her work.

Threvobek also smiles in earnest at Linny's joke, but there is a bit of caution in the way he puts his hair behind his ears. For at least the next few days he'll be scrutizing every girl he sees for any resemblance to the waylaid goldrider. "And thank you for helping to keep thread off my back. G'day weyrwoman." Rev's torso drops a slight bow and he's out the infirmary door, head high and tasting the wind. No sand in it today.