It had all been going so well - this morning, despite the heat, was the day to start to assemble some of the heavier pieces of equipment needed to build a weather substation at one of the nearby holds. Sirocco, naturally, had been called in to supervise much of the work, though sweeps assignments made it so the main people on the job were R'ku and the hapless Ch'ad, among a few others from other wings who had volunteered. It's difficult to get a clear picture of what exactly happened in the early hours of the morning after the rumor mill had a chance to grind into the bits and pieces of information that had come in about it. Most include some sort of whisperings about Ch'ad trying to bump off his Wingleader in order to get his position back. Needless to say, the work was left half done and R'ku had to be hurriedly shuttled back to Igen after a severe fall. Thankfully the bronzerider didn't break his neck or back, though his left forearm was certainly left bent at an odd angle, the bone clearly snapped. Thus with the day heading past noon, R'ku still finds himself sequestered in a bed at the infirmary, looking and probably feeling miserable. At least his arm is tightly bandaged and splinted, though his only saving grace is that it wasn't his dominant arm. Despite the pain, he's making a sloppy attempt at trying to write out something on a hide spread out on his lap, but failing miserably.

When one of your Wingleaders gets injured, word reaches you quickly - one of the 'benefits' of being Weyrleader. So it is that H'rik seeks out the infirmary, removing his hat and its attached veil as he enters the relative cool of the area. An infirmary aide nearby points him in the right direction, and the man approaches R'ku's bed, holding his hat to his side in one hand as he offers a salute with the other. A quick glance at the bandaged arm gives him confirmation that the man is, indeed injured; the details he's been given are scanty, however. "Afternoon, Wingleader. Is this a good time?" He's going for a friendly approach, never keen on playing the tough Weyrleader if he doesn't have to.

R'ku finally seems to find a spot that he can rest the hide on to make it a bit easier to write on … then H'rik interrupts him. He frowns for a moment at the hide and folds it closed with a sigh, giving H'rik a salute with his unbandaged arm, "I suppose as good a time as any." His deep voice has a bit of a roughness to it, likely from the pain and the injury. "I'm apparently stuck here for a few more candlemarks, at least. They want to be sure I haven't hit my head or injured anything else." Observation, essentially. He grimaces and leans back against the pillows of his bed, "I needed to see you anyhow, Weyrleader." There's a tenseness in his voice as he adds, "I apparently am going to be grounded for at least a month and a half."

As R'ku's not turned him away, H'rik moves a chair closer and sits down, hat on his lap. He nods at R'ku's explanation of what's going on at the moment, a sympathetic downturn of his mouth causing his features to become downcast. "That's unfortunate, R'ku. I'm sorry to hear it." There's no point beating around the bush though, especially when R'ku seems aware of the potential outcome of this injury, if H'rik is reading the tenseness in his words right. "For that length of time - you'll have to let someone lead Sirocco for the time being, I'm afraid." His light eyes are on the other bronzerider's face, reading what reaction the man has to this statement.

From the expression that crosses R'ku's face, it's obvious he knew that statement was coming. He probably just wanted H'rik to be the one to say it rather than him. He lets out a breath in a rough sigh, bringing his good hand up to rub at his stubbled face, "I understand." Though stepping away from a wing that he'd been leading since the birth of it is a bit difficult, to be sure. "There are a few people that could be trustworthy to take over temporarily. I can advise from the ground, at least, while my arm heals." His jaw tightens a bit and he manages to grate out, "Just … don't let Ch'ad anywhere near Wingleader or Wingsecond, though I would hope that would be obvious." The tone in his voice might indicate there may be something to the rumor mill involving Ch'ad.

H'rik's shoulders are stiff, but they ease up a little when R'ku doesn't put up any resistance to the unfortunate necessity. He's even talking about potential replacements already! "Of course. Whoever replaces you for the time being would be stupid not to listen to your guidance. And Kabelkath would appreciate still drilling with them, I'm sure." He fiddles with the brim of his hat, before offering a tight smile at R'ku's warning about Ch'ad. "No. He's got some work to do yet before I'd approve his taking a rank again." The flat tone of his voice surprises even himself - the initial reports to him may have mentioned Ch'ad was present, and as much as H'rik tries not to make assumptions…well, sometimes one cannot help it. "Your weyr's a ground level one already, from what I understand?"

R'ku heaves another sigh that speaks of long suffering when it comes to the antics of Ch'ad, "I was trying to save /him/ from being injured, stupidly enough. He was being a show-off, as usual. I tried to physically pull him back from his stupidity and his extra weight made me lose my balance." He looks a little relieved to be finally saying the whole story to someone. The mention of his ground-level weyr has him grimacing, "Yes. My weyrmate isn't a dragonrider and it was more convenient … shards. I've been trying to get word to her now that my arm isn't facing the wrong way and I can think clearly." Because resetting the bone probably was a whole other level of pain and not something he'd want Beris to see. "I'd hate for her to have heard only through rumors, but that seems to be how the news is travelling now."

H'rik's mouth thins when R'ku implicates Ch'ad as a part of the accident. "I'll be conducting an investigation into what happened. Was there anyone else there?" Yet another task to add to the pile, but one that has to be done. As to rumours, H'rik manages to find some humour in that with the smallest of smiles, a grey, grim one. "I think that's how most news travels around here, unfortunately. Would you like me to help with letting her know?" It seems polite to offer, though Faranth knows H'rik would probably rather a healer breaks the bad news to the man's weyrmate. He'll make no mention of how he heard the news - at least the person made it sound a little more official given they were addressing the Weyrleader rather than their gossip buddy.

R'ku rattles off the names of a few others that were present - a couple Wingriders from other wings that had volunteered to help with the task at hand. "Some or all of them ought to have seen the whole thing," he concludes with, readjusting his bandaged arm with a grimace, "I'm just glad I didn't break my neck due to him. Embarrassing." The talk of his weyrmate has his expression softening abit, though then looking vaguely worried, "If you could … that'd be great. Or at least see if one of the healers can. I've been trying to write up a note to her, though I dont' think my handwriting is legible at this point." He gestures at the hide on his lap, which is covered in what could loosely be termed as writing, "I'd rather her not worry too much. She works at the Pit, though, so … " He grimaces, obviously imagining that might be a jumping off point for a lot of rumor spreading. "Hopefully this won't affect the weather station being built?"

H'rik nods at the names, hoping he can remember them long enough to get to somewhere that he can note them down. "You certainly did get off lucky, all things considered." Small as it may be, it's an upside. "I'll make sure it's arranged. I don't know if a healer or the Weyrleader turning up would be worse," he manages a little smile, trying to be as reassuring as he can. Now he wakes a hand at the hide. "Would you like me to write, if you dictate? Though I imagine she'll come see you as soon as she knows, if she's like any other weyrmate." Not that he'd know himself what it's like, but he's trying to be light-hearted about the whole thing. "I'll try to make sure it doesn't," he promises of the weather station. "I'll get some Whirlwind riders to help with what remains to be done."

R'ku snorts out a laugh, though soon cuts it off after a moment after it jostles his arm a bit too much, "I'm guessing the Weyrleader coming personally might seem a bit worse." He looks thoughtful for a moment before giving a shake of his head, "Considering how much fuss Kabelkath made when they were resetting the bone, I imagine rumors are spreading like wildfire in the Bazaar. She's probably heard by now." At the moment he seems a bit more worried about his weyrmate's state of mind than his own injury, considering the furrow of his brow. "And … no … I'll try to finish off this hide and send it off with Cava. It's messy, but at least it's my handwriting so she can know I'm at least functional. Somewhat." He looks a little relieved about the weather station and breathes out a sigh, "I'd hate for this to have happened in vain. Most of the materials got delivered, at least." There's a sudden twitter as Cava, R'ku's gold fire lizard, pops from *between* and lands noisily on the bronzerider's bed. "Do me a favor and tie this on her leg?" He holds up the messily-written scrap of hide.

H'rik would probably make a light-hearted comment about at least he's not turning up with a black knot but…maybe it's not the right time for such jokes. "The Bazaar is good at putting its own spin on gossip," he says - spoken from experience, by the tone of his voice. "Hopefully she's not one to listen to gossip?" He doesn't know the woman, so he'll just throw that out as he tries to find a point of relief. He simply nods at R'ku's declining of the writing offer; Cava is watched as she arrives. Somewhat distracted by that, he takes a moment to answer about the weather station. "That's most of the work done, anyway! Just any final bits and then setting the thing up to go?" Maybe they'll be experts on weather stations by the time this little 'project' is done. "Sure." he takes the bit of hide, getting off his chair and letting his hat plop onto the floor. His approach to the gold is somewhat hesitant; then a glance is given to R'ku. "She's fine with strangers handling her?"

"Sometimes it's difficult /not/ to hear gossip," R'ku notes on the end of a sigh, "You can hear it just wandering through the Bazaar from random people gossiping as they shop." Having grown up in the Bazaar, it's something he's all too familiar with. Perhaps he can be lucky and Beris hasn't ventured out yey to go shopping and has missed the inevitable morphing of the rumor into a story about him being severely maimed or murdered. "Hm? Oh - Cava's fine with strangers. A bit too fine sometimes," he notes with a snort of a laugh. Cava, for her part, burbles happily and peers curiouslly up at H'rik, wings fluttering every so often. "And yeah," R'ku continues, "Just one or two more crates of the heavier things and a few more odds and ends. Then it just needs to be assembled so it actually works. But I'm assuming the Starcrafters will have to oversee that part. I have hidework somewhere on what was supposed to be delivered today … I can show you which parts actually were." He glances around for his riding gear, which was probably stripped off him upon arrival. He /is/ wearing Pern's version of a hospital dressing gown under the covers of the bed. "Where in Faranth's name did they put my pants?"

"Can't you just," H'rik's knowing smile is aimed at R'ku, before he gets back to eyeing up Cava. She hasn't attached him…and R'ku gives reassurance that she's friendly. He moves in to tie the note to her nearest leg, murmuring a 'hello' to the gold. "Ah, not much left, then. I'll take the Starcrafters myself if need be - I imagine Alsha will want to be there for the set up." Since she seems to be the resident expert on the devices. "Hm?" Settling back into his chair, H'rik looks about. "Er - good question." He leans to peer down the length of the infirmary to see if there's a handy healer nearby to ask about the location of the man's clothes but - as if by magic - they've made themselves scarce while the riders talk. "We can sort it later on," H'rik assures R'ku, sitting back and looking at him again. Now there's a pause, the Weyrleader looking very much like he's trying to think of something to say next.

R'ku sinks a little dejectedly back into the pillows. Now he feels extra trapped - no pants and wearing a flimsy cloth gown that will likely flash everyone his bckside if he gets up. "Lovely," e notes dryly, "I'm sure they hid them so I wouldn't sneak off before they've released me." Probably after dealing with so many ornery riders, this seems like something a crafty Healer would do. Once the note is tie to Cava's leg, R'ku clucks his tongue to call her to him. "Find Beris," he instructs the gold firmly before shooing her off. Chirruping, Cava launches from the bed, circles ner the ceiling for a bit and then pops *between*. "Hopefully she doesn't get distracted. But … I tried to make it seem important," he muses, watching after the gold. Glancing back to H'rik, he nods and sighs, "Keep me posted? Hopefully I can be back in fighting shape after a month and ahalf is up. I'll .. I'll have to turn the knot back in later." Because the knot is probably with his missing clothes. "Sorry to bring you up short in the wings like this."

The amusement in H'rik's eyes, sympathetic as he is to R'ku's current state, can't be denied. He's apparently thinking similar thoughts about the missing clothes not being an accident or afterthought. "They'll turn back up," he says with sincerity. Watching Cava do her thing before she disappears, he gives a light laugh at R'ku's hopes for a safe delivery of his message. "And there I was wondering if I should get a gold to take charge of delivering my messages." They have a slightly more serious matter to discuss though, even if it's mostly H'rik giving further reassurances, starting with a shake of his head and a firm look at R'ku. "These things happen. All part and parcel of the dragonrider deal. If you want to think over the candidates to look after the Wing for you, I'm happy to go talk to them and pick one to take the knot - when it reappears." There's a small smile.

R'ku nods his head in a contemplative sort of way, "I trust your decision on whoever gets to take over for now. Most of the riders in the wing I could trust." There's certainly an unwritten subtext that it's obviously not Ch'ad, who still seems to cause issues even when he's barred from flying sweeps. He heaves another sigh, sinking further back into the pillows on the bed. Then, finally, a random healer bustles over, though merely to offer R'ku a glass of fellis-laced wine, it seems, and not his poor missing pants. He accepts the glass with a sigh - he /is/ in a lot of pain. "Thanks, Weyrleader. I'll send you a note when they release me and … well … we can figure things out. I hope." He looks resigned to having to stay here at least for the rest of the day as he sips at the drink with a grimace at the aftertaste.

"I'll let you know once I've made a decision," H'rik promises. "Before I let whoever it may be know they've got some more duties coming their way." A chance for R'ku to object to the appointment is implied. Not that H'rik would dream of choosing Ch'ad as R'ku's successor, given his own low opinion of the man. When the healer approaches, H'rik perks up, looking hopeful that the missing clothes have been found but…apparently not. Sagging somewhat, the man stays quiet as R'ku sips the clearly unpleasant drink. "We will. For now - rest, and don't worry. I'll handle it." Starting with heading somewhere quiet to plan the interviewing of the witnesses to the incident. Rising, picking up his hat on the way, H'rik gives a genial bob of his head. "Clear skies, R'ku." He heads for the door with an expression half thoughtful, half serious, jamming his hat back onto his head before he heads out into the relentless sun.