Z'bor, Arianne


Checking up on the injured.


It is evening of the nineteenth day of the seventh month of the first turn of the 12th pass.


Dragon Infirmary

OOC Date


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Dragon Infirmary

An exceptionally large cavernous area is set aside for the dragons of the weyr to convalesce. Immediately adjacent to the ground weyrs, it provides some privacy for those pairs whose injuries require more silence and solitude for recovery. But there are also a number of dragon wallows here for triage and diagnosis; those with the worst injuries have the wallows nearest the open air exit reserved for them until they're well enough to be moved further in. Bins, shelves, and locked cabinets store all of the medicines and raw ingredients the dragonhealers will need for treatment, as well as things like blankets and 'medicinal whiskey' for the riders of the afflicted. A lettering system applied to the shelves above one lone desk hint at a filing system used by those who work here.

The rain pours outside, drenching Southern in cool, life giving liquid. Most have the brains to stay inside, and this is just where you'll find Z'bor. Within the recesses of the dragon infirmiry, where it is quiet, yet busy as a bee hive; Z'bor sits between the ridges of Ozriath's neck, rubbing oil into the green's skin. One leg is bent up funny so that the rider can avoid the splinted wing at Ozriath's side. He talks under his breath at her as she preens the spaces between her talons. They sit in their own little bubble, dragon and rider, content to just simply enjoy each other's company.

Arianne has had to spend an unfortunate amount of time indoors the past few sevendays; indoors and in the infirmary to be exact. Since they've had to fellis her right up every time her score needs to be cleaned or the stitches redone. It's just a little too close to the artery to be risking her twitching at the wrong tie and all. But, Ari being Ari… she's absolutely stir crazy with only paperwork to take care of. And thus, she is sneaking into the infirmary this evening to try and check on the dragons that are there. And when Z'bor and Ozriath are spotted, she offers the two a friendly wave. But doesn't quite talk yet.

Z'bor looks up just in time to see Arianne wave. He gives a bright smile and waves back, before returning to his work. "Looks like our WingLeader is a little bored…." He comments to Ozriath. The green turns her wedge shaped head so that she can see Arianne and lets out a soft rumble in the woman's direction. A hello of sorts. Z'bor chuckles and pats Ozriath's neck. "Arianne! Mine says to come say hello!" He grins, dipping the rag back into the oil pot.

"Glad to, of course." Caelth would roll his eyes were it possible. But instead, he just snorts from his sentry-point near the exit. "Hello sweet Ozriath. I hear your wing is healing nicely." Ari's voice is unusually quiet, but the same signature warmth is still there. Especially for the dragons in her wing. "You'll be in the air again in no time." Encouragingly, she gives the green hide a gentle pat. "You must be bored as well. Has anyone put you to work yet in here?"

Caelth senses Ozriath floats in on the lapping foam of the ocean. Salt is tangy in the air and a gentle breeze blends with the sun in her voice. «Greetings Caelth.»

Ozriath lets out a gentle rumble in Arianne's direction, along with the gentlest of nudges. She lays her head down, within easy scratching range. Z'bor slides down Ozriath's good side, depositing his oil and rag on the floor next to his cot. "I've been busy, not here all that much, but busy. Ozriath has been resting, so I've been finding odd jobs here and there." He grins, looking a might happier than he had been since Ozriath fell. "How are you?" He asks, concern crossing his features.

"Well goodness me, I almost forgot your favorite scritching spot." Holding a hand up to her forehead dramatically, Arianne settles against one of Ozriath's forelegs to dutifully lavish her with the desired attention. "I'll be alright. Still being careful not to pull stitches." she laments, explaining why she keeps her voice pitched low and doesn't have a large range of expressions just yet! "My brother comes with when they have to drug me up. I'm pretty sure it's so he can laugh at me when I start rambling without my thought filter." But she loves the big lug anyway, obviously.

Z'bor laughs. "Aye, I suppose that is rather amusing." He chuckles a little more and watches Ozriath lean into the scratching and attention. He shakes his head, even as a loving smile crosses his face. Dragon and rider, no bond quite like it. "I'm glad you seem to be healing. That's a hell of a place to get scored." He flinches a little and rubs at his neck. He comes forward and rubs at Ozriath's nose. The green lets out a contented noise that is very close to a purr.

"Tell me about it. At least nobody'll be able to say the only reason I'm a wingleader is a pretty face anymore." Arianne jokes, the dark humor obviously having rubbed off on her from her lifemate. It's definitly rather unlike her. "I'd like to help walk her through her stretches tomorrow if you don't mind. Gauge her progress with Caelth there to watch too. If neither of you mind."

Z'bor chuckles. "Avians of a feather right?" He points at the elongated scar on his head. He comes around to stand in front of Arianne, grin locked on his face. At her question he shrugs. "Sure! Why not? Ozriath could use a stretch, she's been getting edgy." He laughs as Ozriath starts to snooze, lulled by Arianne's affections.

Arianne smiles briefly, before wincing at the way it feels. And then inclines her head. "Indeed." she agrees, giving Ozriath one last affectionate pat as the green starts to snooze. "I get all my dragon affection from my patients, since Caelth is a big grump. He's always complaining about all my 'touchy feely shit'." But he's stuck with her. "But, I should go find my brother to torment him a little for laughing at me. I'll see you both tomorrow."

Z'bor nods. "ozriath will take any affection you have to give, I'm sure she'd be happy to give you plenty." He chuckles and waves Arianne off. "Go on then. Have a good night, and take care. Get some rest eh?" He picks up his cloth and oil and resumes his former task. Ozriath may get to sleep, but he still has quite a bit of hide to cover. He shimmies up her side and begins working the oil into Ozriath's skin once more, while singing softly to himself.

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