Log: Lieryth and Riuth's Babies Bond In The Barracks
Who: Weyrlings and Weyrlingmasters and Baby dragons!
When: 4/21/20
Where: Weyrling Barracks, Ista Weyr
What: After the hatching, it's always crazy. Three need wounds seen to and babies learn to eat and get oiled and settle in.
It's a mad house over here with Mic and D'pry helping out the already-impressed and at least one dragonet already curled up asleep, gleaming with a fresh coat of oil. There's splashes of oil on the floor, buckets of meat everywhere and the distinct tang of bloody, raw flesh taints the air.
Kolniveth stays near his new lifemate, close enough that his shoulder bumps L'hai's leg as they walk. He's there for support, too, if the weyrling needs it after that bit of a booboo on the sands, but largely the young bronze is looking around with eager, interested eyes. << What is this? Where are we now? I smell... >> He takes a bit sniff of the air and his eyes whirl with an even hungrier red.
Suizen heads into the barracks with Sivrudith, Javeri leading the pair in before going back out to handle her duties. "No doubt there'll be plenty to be eatin', we'll just have to be findin' you the right stuff.." she assures him, before looking about to see which pile of bloody meat to head towards.
Sivrudith hurries Suizen along if she dares think of dawdling. He'll haul with his teeth on her robe if he has to. Big feet stomp, stomp, stomp on stone and he doesn't stop once he finds a bucket of meat nearby. Even if it wasn't mean to be his. Food! << Hurry up, Sooz! Your mate's starving! >>'
Walking in with L'hai, P'draig's got a weather eye on that blood stain on the new weyrling's tunic and he's keeping close step to make sure the other man doesn't suddenly pass out or anything. T'mic looks up from doing an oil demonstration and spots Suizen, flashing her a trademark toothy grin. "Soooz, he's hungry? Right here." And the greenrider steps over to catch up a fresh bucket, brings it to the new brownpair.
L'hai can use the support, too, as evidenced by the way he wobbles a bit when he walks-- possibly even more than the more justified hatchling. His fingers flex against that bronze neck, constantly checking that it's even there. What it feels like. "We're, uh, somewhere else... You're smelling food because you're hungry and they have it here..." Red still leaks under the hand he has clamped to his side but he remains upright, walking.
That red welling at L'hai's side narrows P'draig's eyes and he pretty much guides the pair to the first place to stop and get the weyrling to sit down. "Let's get him something to eat," he says in a steady voice, catching up a bucket and passing it over. "Just make sure it's one piece at a time and he's chewing. I'll get you some numbweed for that rake. I'm going to need to look at it too, might need a healer for stitches," the brownrider says matter-of-factly. "But you're still on your feet so that's a good sign, okay Lach-- what should I call you now?"
Kolniveth turns to look up at L'hai, to give a light nudge toward the hand that covers his wound. << You're okay. >> He says it like a statement, but there's a question in there too. But there's no question at all when he says, << I'm with you, L'hai >> even if a bit of worried yellow tinges his eyes now. His head whips toward P'draig then, eager since the Weyrlingmaster sounds quite helpful.
"Thanks, Mic..." Sooz answers, before taking the bucket, and putting it down near Sivrudith, before asking, "You alright there, Lach?"
Food! Sivrudith is just not interested in waiting. << Don't listen to him, Suizen! We don't need his help! Just feed me! >> The brown lets out a sad creel and nudges against Sooz again. The first piece of food she offers he snatches from her hands barely sparing fingers.'
Lingering by Suizen, T'mic provides the usual reminders: one piece at a time, chew slowly and then there's a bawling sound from over yonder and theh greenrider goes scampering off in that direction with an upheld finger. "Hold that thought, see how he does with that meat."
L'hai eases his way down a bit awkwardly, since he's all about not losing contact with Kolniveth. Once down, though, he tips his hand away from the wound for the first time, having been amply applying pressure before. "What?" That's for P'draig, a misunderstanding of the question. A brief, confused stare, then, "Oh, uh... do you mean L'hai?" He winces a bit, but distracted into looking at those whirling eyes quickly, "But I didn't think you would be..." Doubts it even now.
It's pretty chaotic in here and only getting the more so as more dragonets and weyrlings pour in. D'pry and T'mic are being kept hopping providing oil and meat, two dragonets are now asleep and oiled with blinking weyrlings sitting there shell-shocked and P'draig is seeing to L'hai who's still bleeding while Sooz has a bucket of meat over yonder for Sivrudith.
Nenita arrives in the barracks, having followed Javeri in there. Once inside she looks all sorts of confused, she's never been in here before. Her shoulder is still bleeding, damnit. And now there's this dragon following her around and by the expression on her face she'd like to feed her, very, very soon.
"L'hai," P'draig echoes firmly and again he's eyeballing that wound. The bucket though is given a nudge. "L'hai, heads up, okay? Feed him from the bucket, one chunk of meat at a time, make sure he chews." It's a reminder and then Paddy steps away to get down the pot of numbweed and returns to hunker down at the weyrling's side. "Let's see this injury here, make sure you don't need any stitches," the Weyrlingmaster says in that same calm tone of voice, none of his movements particularly sudden.
Suizen gets nudged by Sivrudith, as she asks her question, then chuckles down at him. "I'm feedin', I'm feedin' - but if we go too fast, you're gonna end up sickin' it all up, an' there'll be no more to eat..." she exaggerates slightly, after offering a second piece of meat to the snatching brown.
Javeri hurries off the sands to catch the last few weyrlings. "Food," she says loudly to break through daze. "Nenita, Chaes...whatever we call you now!" She gestures to where buckets are set up. "Feed them one piece at a time and make sure they chew. No choking please."
Kolniveth lets out a snort at L'hai's silly doubts. << Of course I am. >> However, that Weyrlingmaster guy is talking about meat and meat sounds mighty good. << Can I eat? I'm starving. Aren't you hungry? >> He is, and L'hai does have some pain so maybe food can fix that too. What does he know.
Safriath does follow her new rider into the barracks, movements proud and high-stepping. << You're hurting, >> she notices idly, but as they're escorted to a suitable spot more pressing issues resurface. << But I am so hungry. And I have sand on me. >> The subtext is clearer than any subtext has ever been: my Nenita is meant to do something about one or both of those. Now.
Sivrudith doesn't want to wait. He's going to snap at every piece she offers. When his tail swishes behind him and hits an empty bucket of meat it tips over and rolls with a clatter. The brown's head snaps around to watch it and then sends to his rider pure, if loud, pleasure. << Aww right! Did you see that? Did you hear that! >> It's exciting, but not enough to keep him from eating.
Ch'son limps his way into the barracks but he's not really thinking about pain or blood or anything except exactly what Javeri says. Food. He's not a man that lets himself get hungry. He limps his way toward the food and, "One piece at a time? Are you sure?" That seems too slow. He casts a look toward Taineth.
"Nenita, my name is still Nenita." She tells Javeri, obviously not catching onto that the latter part of her remark was meant for the Ch'son and not herself. There's no bite to it though, just more of the dazed voice. Again there's more head shaking before she begins to usher for Safriath to follow her, "I can feed you. But you have to promise not to choke. I don't know how to do make you spit up if you do." Mention of sand gets her to look down at whatever granules are attached to her. "...I'll get right on that." Once they're to the meat buckets, she shoves a hand into to grab a piece. Not afraid juicey, delicious meat. Nope.
"I'm positive, Chaes," Javeri says with a reassuring grin. "One piece at a time and make sure he chews. He's just a baby." Glancing at Nenita she grins. "And here I thought you'd be N'nit or something." Hey, she doesn't have a baby in her head. She can joke! "Are you hurt bad. Wait. You were hurt weren't you?" Now she's getting flustered though! "Umm. Sit. Right. You two sit and someone will come look at you." Not her. Not with bloody meat about! She's careful not to look at it.
"You smacked that bucket around very well. Taught it what-for.." Sooz agrees, slightly bemused after the loud clatter, before working her way through a couple more pieces of meat. For Sivrudith. Not her. Her ears are ringing too much to eat, if the way she occasionally rubs at her left ear is any indication, while her right hand does all the work
Up comes Paddy's head from where he's tending L'hai, first to check on Sooz and he grins over at her. "Good job," he encourages her. "Keep it up with him --" and breaks off, starts chuckling for some reason. He looks over briefly towards where Ch'son and Nenita have come in and the color on that hide following Nenny around widens his eyes just a touch but he only clears his throat and calls over: "Congratulations both of you, Nenny, Chaeson," for lack of another name to use with the bronze weyrling. "Don't forget to clean up after, Sooz," Paddy pulls his attention back that way.
Taineth's eyes are purely focused on Ch'son, despite the flecks of hungry red that stain them. << I can eat more than one piece at a time. Look at how big my mouth is. >> And open wide he does, showing off the inside of his maw. << See? YOu and I are great. You can handle that wound, and I can handle more than one piece of meat. >>
Heads up! L'hai hurries to as much attention as he has right now, beyond all the dizziness and the... whatever. Oh, and the bleeding. "O-Oh, of course you can eat. Am I? Well, not for this..." At least he thinks so-- hopes that the hunger is all Kolniveth's-- considering that he's dipping his hand into a bucket of sloppy meat chunks. "What was the other thing? Right, chewing." And the offering is made, him being barely aware that P'draig is doing anything at all, even if it involves pulling away robes and looking at sensitive sides.
Sivrudith spreads his wings and sits up straight for the praise from his Suizen. << It made a noise! It was amazing! Suizen! Pick it up so I can do it again! >> This is said as he chews. Chews slowly even though he's so hungry because he wants to knock the bucket over again. << Please. For your mate. >>
Juicy and delicious is right. Safriath revels in both as soon as she has that first piece in her mouth. Her chewing isn't dainty, but neither is it wolfing and gulping; she simply /savors/. When a ravenous brown hatchling and his rider move to the same bucket for some share of the meat, though, Safriath eyes them. << He's eating my food. >> A veil of possession, so clear in your mind, settles over the bucket in question. Not that that will keep her from accepting any chunks of meat Nenita may still be feeding her. << My Nenita, please tell him it's mine. >>
"Ch'son," Chaes says, remembering to offer his new name, but he's staring at the bronze still as he sits as instructed after he has meat to feed to Taineth. "He says he can eat more than one," he tells whoever's going to listen doubtfully while he looks into the gaping maw. "The lady says one at a time, man. So here." He puts one piece into the bronze's mouth. "And chew or you'll choke and die." Nothing great about that.
Nenita blinks owlishly at the bluerider a few times before finally laughing. "N'nit. You don't hate me do you?" Which is... sort of an awkward question but it just comes out. This is what happens when your mind is all sorts of muddled. "My shoulder got caught by his talon." A glance towards L'hai's bronze. "It's oozing." Sitting down she holds the piece of meat out for Safriath's mouth, dropping it into her maw. "You have to allow him to eat some of it, otherwise he'll starve to death. You wouldn't want something like that to happen, would you?" But still. She smiles politely at the young brown hatchling and his rider. "She's possessive. Maybe there are some available buckets over there?"
Suizen pauses a moment to resettle the bucket in its upright position, "Alright Rudi, but pay attention to your food, eh? Gotta eat while the food's all here an' ready, right-o?" she asks, handing out more pieces to be snatched out of sight as soon as they appear. "Sivrudith, or the bucket, P'draig?" she asks, a bit confused as she focuses on the man somewhat.
"That's it, hand him a piece," P'draig encourages and then pipes down to tend to the wound itself, hands gentle though the robe actually needs a little snip of scissors to show off the gashes. "This might sting a little," Paddy says quietly and it's Kolniveth he's looking at again, to make sure that he's not going to react badly as he applies some redwort and follows it rapidly with a swipe of numbweed. "L'hai." He says the name very clearly and waits until the weyrling can spare him an iota of attention. "Looks okay for now. But I want you to go see Dulcinea once you've gotten Kolniveth settled, understood?"
Kolniveth is getting fidgety, seeing the bucket, seeing L'hai's hand in the bucket. Meat can't get to his mouth fast enough and he puts talons on his lifemate's leg, so eager to get the food in his belly. He seems to have grasped that humans, they are delicate, and so the rest of that paw is a light one, no more scraping or gouging. He chews hastily and none so well, already opening his mouth for more, sharing with L'hai just how potent that meat smells to him, all bloody and delicious.
"Ch'son," Javeri repeats and then winks even if the new bronzerider misses it. "So much for those lines," she tells him with a grin. "But one piece, please. When he starts to bulge he should be done. Then there's oil. He'll need a good cleaning and oiling too." Lingering near the bronzerider she looks around because someone's going to have to check out wounded people and it won't be her! When Nenita speaks the bluerider turns her head blinking. "Of course not. And someone will be right over to check your shoulder. I promise." Now she tries to catch D'pry's eye so she can ask him to do it!
Taineth obediently gobbles up that one meat piece, despite his earlier claim. Rider probably knows best on this one. << Die? I doubt I would die. I just started living. I have too much to do before that. >> And, just to clarify, he adds: << And so do you. >> Chew, chew, chew. Swallow. Next, please!
With L'hai's wound tended to for now, P'draig straightens and looks Suizen's way. "Heh, at the rate he's going, Sooz, both," he tells her with a hint of teasing in his tone. "But I meant the bucket. Don't want anyone tripping," he notes and reaches over to catch another weyrling by the elbow as she goes skidding on a patch of oil. "Speaking of, let's get that a little mopped up."
Sivrudith creels with delight, and hunger, when the bucket is righted. Meat in his mouth he tells Suizen << Watch this! >> Crash! His tail sends the bucket skittering across the floor as he watches to clunk right against the bucket being used by Ch'son. << That'll teach em! >>
Safriath does take Nenita's words in while she chews away, happiness blooming gradually in her thoughts like a wide-petaled flower. << I suppose. If it means he'll die. He can have some of my food, >> she responds graciously, the tempo of her post-hatching hunger still beating under her words. Edging closer she places a pointed paw on Nenita's leg, grains of black sand transferring from hide to skin. There's an expectation there, a demand for attention. Can't you do two things at once?
P'draig brushing his hands off on his pants, P'draig picks up the first aid supplies and eyeballs Kolniveth again. "Chew all the way," he tells the young bronze with a grin, rests a hand briefly on L'hai's shoulder then heads over to Ch'son and Nenita. "More walking wounded, Veri?" he asks nearby Javeri while T'mic circles back around checking on others and picking up dropped items on the way, a swab of a cloth made across that puddle on the floor to avoid further slipping.
Nenita offers some more meat to the ravenous young gold, again smiling politely at the other weyrling. The pair is looking a little nervous before they decide maybe it's better to just move on than deal with both of them. After all, he's hungry too. So hungry. "Ah well, I guess they'll eat elsewhere. But there are other starving dragons too." Fourteen other starving dragons. There's a glance around before more food is given to Safriath. "Chew carefully, very good." When the paw is presented she automatically wipes the sand off with a distracted hand. Meanwhile, she's still oozing through her robe which must look very attractive.
L'hai improves his meat-grabbing pace once he's already resigned to having the juice dribbling all over him-- the mental encouragements only aiding this further. "Slow, now, nice. Steady." He does wait long enough to say this though, making a sort of jaw-moving demonstration to correct Kolniveth's chewing. His glance to P'draig is absently done, but he *is* listening. The soft, "Oh, Dulcinea..." proves that. Good thing a pressuring paw on his leg keeps him rooted where he should be.
"Ack. Let's play with the bucket after dinner, eh? Chaes' is already a bit beat up..." Sooz responds, trying not to snicker, before she hands Rudi another scrap. "I'll be right back, eh? Wantin' more, or is it cleanin' up time?" she asks her partner in crime, as she makes her way over to fetch the rocket-bucket. "Sorry 'bout that."
"Afraid so," Javeri tells Paddy with a grin. "All our big boys and girl seemed to want someone with some blood on them." Shaking her head she gets D'pry's attention and waves him over. "Can you, umm," she asks with a nod to Chaes and Nenita. Thankfully her fellow bluerider assistant knows what to do and he'll start with Nenita to be sure she doesn't more than a little patching up.
Ch'son offers another piece to the bronze and says without looking at the bluerider, "Thanks for that reminder." Totally exactly what he needed right now. "I don't have anything to do," Chaes says back to the dragon and he's reaching for another piece of meat when his bucket is knocked away. "Hey," he frowns and tries to reach further for it without actually moving. It's kind of a sensitive area but he's still nicely distracted.
Taineth squawks in surprise as the bucket Sivrudith whacked goes flying. He jumps backwards, knocking over a big oil brush in the process, which hits the ground with a loud clatter. Embarassed, the young bronze folds his wings in tighter to his body and looks up apologetically at his rider. << I am sorry, Ch'son. I did not mean to make us appear clumsy. >>
<< More! >> Although Sivrudith is not clear on if he wants more smashing or more food. Although when Sooz gets up he does drop his head right into his food bucket. Sniff, sniff. What's this? He licks the side of the bucket and finds a piece of meat to chew on while waiting. << Don't know why you have to listen to him, Sooz. Like he's too good to get the bucket? >> The brown flops right where he is and then smacks his tail on the ground. << I itch! Make it stop! >> He lets out a loud belch and then his head nudges the food bucket over so he can continue to eat the remains of what's inside while lying down.
"That's one way to start things out," P'draig says with easy going good humor and waits for a moment while Nenita and Ch'son feed their dragonets. He nods D'pry's way as the other assistant approaches Nenita. "Slow and careful around the dragonets," he reminds the youngest of the new assistants and the least experienced, though at least the young bluerider does seem to know his way around a pot of numbweed. "Whoa there," is added as Tainath makes things clatter again. "All right there?" he asks then nods Ch'son's way. "Let's see that injury of yours, while he's still eating. Want to get an idea of how bad before you start on oiling."
Javeri's looking a little green around the edges truth be told. Maybe that's why she was ready for anyone to step in and take over with the walking wounded. Or maybe it's the meat. Whatever the case she edges away and looks at P'draig. "I'm going to go double check that all the cots and couches are ready to go for when they're sleepy." And get a bit of fresh air as well.
As more and more meat enters her belly, Safriath's is free to fit other things in her head, namely the pain she's still receiving from her rider. << You're still hurt, >> she notes, surprise entering the cadence. This hasn't been done yet? << Get one of them to take care of it for you. >> Them, one of those tall people milling about that are catering to them. When the brushed paw reaches a satisfactory level of cleanliness, she gracefully switches them to let Nenita begin on the next.
T'mic edges back over Suizen's way as Sivrudith's bucket empties out. "How's he doing, Sooz? Here let's get that bucket out of the way. Does he itch?" The greenrider's as cheery as ever.
Ch'son offers a smile to Suizen for the bucket and then the smile is turned on the bronze, almost affectionate. It's weird. And it's gone after a moment when Ch'son clears his throat. "You're fine, man. That one's way worse," he offers a glance to Sivrudith.
"Well, he's cleanin' up the oil, so why not? And slowly, Rudi..." Sooz adds, heading back herself, before stopping. "Itching? Oh! Hey Mic.. yah. I should oil him now?" So asks the one resident who's yet to have any a little 'lizard at her beck and call, totally missing the comment about her partner in crime.
Kolniveth thinks faster is definitely better. Faster meat to his mouth! And slowing down to chew? Well, he has to roll his shoulders and focus to do that, red burning brighter in his eyes as hunger and frustration build. << Like this? >> he asks, dubious that slow is the way to go. But if L'hai insists, well... okay. Thankfully ever glob of meat down the gullet eases his tension a little bit more. He inches closer to his lifemate, but also take his first look around the cavern now that it's full of his clutchmates.
Taineth peers up at that big new guy who seems to know what he's talking about. Knowing an authority figure when he sees one, the bronze politely munches on his raw food as Ch'son starts to get tended to. He doesn't even try to sneak more than one into his mouth at a time, much as he might be tempted to. << Oh, yes. We are much better. When can we start practicing things? >>
"Yes, I am." Nenita answers, just a touch sourly while she peeks down at the stain on her robe. Turning it into dry humor, that hopefully the young dragon will catch, "If I'm lucky, I'll survive." With the switch of the paw, she's once again brushing sand off of Safraith and onto the floor. Once it's gone, she takes a moment to really look down at her hide, admiring before shaking her head. "You're very lovely. Would you like more to eat?" The approach of an assistant gets her attention and she does indeed speak to D'pry when he gets near. "Can I have some cotton gauze to clean this up?"
Safriath does indeed give a laugh for Nenita's humor, the rich and oh-so-deep sound joined by a subtle patter of castanets. It's a distraction from eating, though, and is therefore short-lived. She does take the time to bask in the praise, though only after she's confirmed the need for more food with an overwhelmingly firm, << Yes. >> Then, << We are lovely together. Very lovely. The loveliest. How lovely am I? >> Maw opened expectantly, she waits.
D'pry swallows nervously and bobs his head at Nenita, which earns him a brief look from P'draig. "Um, yes ma'am," the assistant says and starts to fumble for that. From over by Ch'son where Paddy's hunkered down taking a look at Ch'son's thigh, the Weyrlingmaster offers over: "Redwort first to clean it off, check how deep it is, swab with numbweed to keep it under control. If it's not too deep, it won't need a healer to look at it," he notes calmly and his gaze shifts briefly to Nenita. There's an encouraging smile and Paddy's dousing his fingers in redwort, cleaning off the gash up high on Ch'son's thigh. "Hold still, this'll sting. Tell Taineth it'll be okay, please and uh, try not to flash the barracks," he notes with a chuckle. After cleaning there'll be numbweed for now at least.
"If he's itchy, let's get started on that oil for this handsome brown of yours, Sooz," T'mic says with a nod and he loops over a nearby half-used bucket. "You've helped out with this before, right? Paddle the stuff on, work it in with your hands and the rag. Should feel good to him. Keep an eye out for any patchy spots on his hide."
"That prevents you from hurting yourself," L'hai informs the impatient bronze, trying to keep as serious a face as possible. "And hurting while eating would, well, defeat the purpose. Sort of like... what I'm doing..." Explaining seems to comfort him, even as he winces from his side or feels the pangs of his lifemate-- ahh, lifemate! The meat comes steadily now, him being somewhat reassured that no one's going to choke and keel over. At the thought of others, though, the new weyrling glances up and seems to realize that the rest of the room is alive, too. Alive, noisy. He squints, overwhelmed, then carefully tries to take stock of each and every person and dragon in there. All while still feeding, of course.
"/Will/ it be okay?" Ch'son give P'draig a quick look. Stinging sounds like it hurts, not like it's okay. But he looks at Taineth and says like he's trying to convince himself more than the dragon, "It'll be okay. And don't flash the barracks." No wait, that was really for him. "Uh. Practicing? Later."
"On a bigger scale, ayup..." Sooz agrees, before reaching over to ladle a paddle full of oil over Sivrudith's back, then squishing her hands on, to the brown's pleasure. "If you're thinkin' this feels nice, you'll be lovin' clay-stuff..." Ah, mud pits. What a wonderful thing. Ah, mud pits. Ain't no passin' craze.
Taineth cants his head to the side, his curiousity peaked by this 'flashing' business. << What is that? Flash? Flashing? >> His wings flare out, allowing the light of the cavern to glint off the shiny specks that dot his hide. << Is this what it is? Am I flashing now? >> As the stinging of Ch'son's wound begins, Taineth's wings falter slightly but remain stretched out. He gives no other verbal or visual sign of complaint.
As D'pry is attempting to tend to her wound, "One moment, please." She hastily feeds her new lifemate another piece of meat. Her internal laughter brings a broad smile to her face. "You are the loviest, Safriath. Exceptionally beautiful." Whoever said feeding egos wasn't wise, didn't tell that to Nenita. Whenever she's done plopping that meat into the waiting maw, she pulls her robe down over her shoulder to expose the ugly, but shallow, gash. "I don't have time to go to the healers." She tells the new assistant weyrlingmaster. "I have to feed her and then get all the sand off her hide."
Kolniveth doesn't seem to mind the chaos at all--it's like he barely notices. But L'hai notices and so the bronze gives his head a cocky tilt and flicks a wing as if to say he's got it all under control. Moving that wing, though, alerts him to the sensation of his hide starting to dry. He keeps chewing, trying to make it just a bit quicker now that L'hai seems less worried. << My shoulders feel funny. >> He wiggles them, extends a wing to feel the pull of taut skin. << Can we fix this? >> He hasn't forgotten the new weyrling's wound, either. << We have to get you fixed, too. >> So much to get done.
"It will," P'draig assures, looking up at the weyrling with a smile. "It's deeper on one end, Dulcinea might need to have a look-see, but you're set for now. Let me know if it starts to bleed through the numbweed and we can put a bandage on. I might actually have someone go get the healer to come over here and look all three of you over, so you don't have to go anywhere," the Weyrlingmaster considers aloud and then hefts himself back up to his feet to go check on D'pry's handiwork which is not going so well. "Why don't you go check on L'hai and Kolniveth, make sure his side's not bleeding through and that they've got oil," the Weyrlingmaster suggests to the nervous young bluerider who looks relieved and hastens off to tend to the other bronzeriding pair, lugging an oil bucket over with him. "Okay Nenny," P'draig says and takes a look over at Safriath. "What's your beauty's name there? I didn't catch it and Jekzith's busy with that squally green over there," he waves in that direction. Hands swabbed again, deft fingers take the measure of that wound, then the Weyrlingmaster nods. "I don't think this will need anything more than numbweed and a bandage, but it's ragged. Cleaning it out," he tells the goldriding weyrling briskly and as with the others gets the basics handled, then tucks her robe back up over the wound, a gauze pad stuck on by dint of thick coating of numbweed.
Ch'son laughs. It's genuine even if it sounds a little off. But blame that on the stinging. He's trying to hold his robe so he's not doing any flashing and he says to the bronze, "Aye, yes. That's very good flashin', Taineth. You're a natural." And when it's all over and Ch'son is left with Taineth, he takes a moment to look at the wound himself, refrains from poking at it and says, "You done eatin'?"
Safriath lets those doting words from her rider roll around for a bit, lets them echo with the snappy rhythm of her mind until they disappear in a red whirl. After that bit of savoring is done, though, she taps her foot against Nenita's leg, once but very firmly, a demand for yet another piece. << Yes, tell him who I am, >> she encourages Nenita as she watches the Weyrlingmaster come to attend them. << And tell him he's to do a good job with that. >> That wound, that scratch.
Taineth smugly tucks those shimmering wings back in. << Thank you, Ch'son. I think we will be naturals at many things. >> Any other proud comments must be delayed, though, as a sudden itching overtakes his hide. << Ahh! It is everywhere! Get it all at once, please! >> He begins to wiggle awkwardly, inching closer to his rider.
Nenita watches as the young man takes off, probably to less fussy patients that aren't demanding not to go to the healer because of sand-cleanings. "Nice meeting you!" She calls out after him before smiling down at her Safriath and rubbing her jaw affectionately. P'draig's appearance results in her holding the robe down again, once more exposing the wound so he can work on it. "Her name is Safriath." And oh yes, there is certainly some pride there. There's an indulgent smile and glance to the gold before she looks to Paddy again, "She'd like you to do a good job on it."
"There you go, Sooz," T'mic says encouragingly and lingers by the brownpair pointing out how to really get into the nooks and crannies around where limbs meet body. "Think he'll be into mud pits? That sounds like fun."
"I think he'll be into all sorts of things...." Sooz admits, sounding not at all dismayed by the prospect, before she laughs. "Hey now. You just got out of the shell. I'd think you'd be all worn out, with all that work done..." she teases the brown, all too curious about what mud is, and what's a pit, and, and, and. Fingers dig into nooks and cranies, as Rudi goes bonelessly sprawling at the oiling.
L'hai is startled out of what counting he was doing by this new persistence. He wars briefly with which thing he'd rather attend to, then scoots forward to put a hand on that shoulder, really grasp the feeling going on. "Yes, there's something for that. It's, uh..." Oh, look, it's right here, because someone has thought to bring the oil close. Though he hovers a hand near his own wound at mentioning, he doesn't touch it. His hands are are gross now, after all. He's just going to have to let it sting on its own. "Me fixed might.. take longer. Where did you say now?" That's for the oil, which is a whole other mess.
D'pry bobs his head as he heads off at Nenita's greeting looking all kinds of double-flustered and P'draig frowns just a little before he turns his attention back to the task at hand. "Nice to meet you Safriath," he says directly to the baby gold. "Just about set here and when Nenita's done here, the healer can take a look to make double sure," Paddy notes reassuringly. "Is she itchy yet?" he asks in a mostly conversational tone. "If so, let's get you started on cleaning up and oil." With the wound all taken care of he takes a little step back and lifts his voice. Helpfully, Jekzith echoes a call to pay attention to the dragonets who're awake. "Hey everyone, just a quick minute before some of you drop off," because there's a weyrling nodding off over yonder. "Once you've fed, cleaned up and oiled your dragon, you're welcome to get cleaned up yourselves and go over to the living cavern for something to eat and drink. They're bringing over stuff too for in here, so you don't have to leave if you don't want or need to either. Please don't drink more than a sip of wine or beer and that's just for tonight. After today, nothing that'll get you drunk for a little while." D'pry meanwhile, sets the oil bucket he was lugging down next to L'hai. "For itchy hide!" he announces brightly and earnestly. "Like what they're doing," he points.
Kolniveth starts twitching more. << Everywhere, L'hai. Everywhere. My shoulders, my wings. My legs. Oh, my neck. >> It comes out quick, that list. The bronze blinks an eye, checking to see if that, too, is getting tight. However, he doesn't tack it on, so it must be fine. << How long will it take? You getting fixed up. >> Meanwhile, he steals himself another piece of meat out of the bucket.
Ch'son doesn't quite startle when Taineth realizes he's itching but he can feel it, too, and that's a very odd sensation. "Hold up, man. Just let me--" he moves to rise and find what he needs to wash the bronze down and oil him, then returns to start doing exactly that. "Hold still. And more your-- this," he grabs for a wing but doesn't actually try to put any pressure on it. "Down so I can get between."
"Sounds like it," T'mic replies to Suizen and he stands back to observe her oiling technique, nods as that's getting going all right and swings away to check on another pair a little bit over but still within earshot of Sooz and her brown.
Taineth isn't too helpful at first as he continues to do his little itchyspots dance. Ch'son gets through to him, though, and he dutifully lowers his wings for his 'mate. << Wings first, please! No, back. No, no! My tail, it is ever so itchy. Can you do it all at once? My head, too. And my neckridges! >> Always more, more, more.
Suizen shakes her head with a bit of a grin and continues to work the oil in, until eyes start to drop. "Oh no you don't. I'm not carryin' you over to your bed. Come on. Up y'go... it'll be a comfy bed waitin' you, perfect to be lazin' about on..." she bribes the dragonet with, unmindful of the oily mess she currently is as she half picks up Rudi and supports him in to an empty spot.
To make up for his inability to do it all at the same time, Ch'son does it as quickly as he's capable without completely half-assing it. He ends on the head, which he's a little more thorough with because he hasn't really taken a chance to /really/ look at it yet. And when he begins with the oil, that's where he starts. "Could just dig a pit and fill it with oil so you can dunk yourself in it, aye?" He's teasing.
Everywhere. Well, alright. L'hai takes that list and, thanks to D'pry's timely arrival, begins the process of getting to each area in the precise order Kolniveth gave it. He frowns at the stolen meat, but can't quite bring up a reprimand. Since oiling has him moving around, he goes stiffly, cautious to quite extend himself all the way with his side the way it is. "Not long," he reassures idly, "The woman there, she's very efficient. Which is... hmmph, good. Not the most convenient thing, ah, stabbing claws..."
Kolniveth remembers now--he'd forgotten in all the excitement--that those wounds are his own fault. << I had to find you, >> he says in his own defense. But then, oh then, oh the oil. He forgets to chew the hunk of meat he has in his mouth, and he struggles to keep his eyes open as the oil finds those itchy patches of his hide. << Damn, that's good. >>
Taineth's talons twitch, clearly intrigued by this 'dig a pit' business, even if it was a joke. << You know, that is an excellent idea. We should have an oil pit. Can we do it? >> He can't help but paw at the ground, but he does no earnest digging. Handily, the food in his belly, combined with his freshly oiled hide, means Ch'son won't actually have to deal with a digging bronze. << Though, that will take a great deal of energy. Perhaps...sleep first. So that we can do it very well later. >> The lights of his mind are foggy now, hazed by the need to sleep.
A look around shows things coming together, more dragonets curling up into couches to sleep and P'draig rolls his head from side to side, shoots a look over at D'pry who is still animatedly demonstrating oiling technique for L'hai in spite of the lassitude that Kolniveth's starting to display. The Weyrlingmaster looks over at Ch'son and Taineth, nods. "Looking good here. Make sure to pick out a couch and have them climb in before they conk out," he lifts his voice so all can hear again and Jekzith is encouraging the same for baby dragons directly.
As Taineth starts to get all hazy and sleepy, Ch'son starts guiding him toward a suitable couch which may or may not be quite so suitable once the bronze is more focused. We'll see! "Sleep first and we'll do it later." That's probably the best thing that the new fangled weyrling has heard all day. Once Taineth has taken up a couch and promptly passed out, Chaes droops like some strings that were holding him up a moment before have slackened considerably. "I need a drink."
As promised, the kitchen staff have brought trays of things for the weyrlings to eat and there's pitchers of juice and water for them to help themselves to, all set up over near the entrance. There's the sound of music drifting around now though, echoing from across the Bowl in the living cavern which speaks of celebration of the hatching going on.
L'hai's look is skeptical, but he can't remain so for very long. Not while still staring at that large bronze proof. "Me," he echoes, hollowly. Then it's back to the process of carefully oiling each portion until he gets near the head and notices a full mouth. "Ah, ah," as he leans away, the grimacing that goes with it almost absent, so expected. "If it's in your mouth, you finish it." He uses the small break to look to D'pry for any other tips, anything he might be missing. But the nodding of his head probably has more to do with the drowsiness building in Kolniveth than affirmation of technique. For once. When it seems appropriate, the two sort out the fastest route to a couch for the bronze.
"You're not the only one..." Sooz comments, as she slides down to the ground in front of the couch Rudi's sprawled out in. "An' of course, we can't....." she adds with a bit of a groan, before looking at her hands, "I've got to be takin' a bath... an' changin' into real clothes... an' /food/." That last is spoken of when her stomach speaks up with a growl, thanks to the smells and sounds from the kitchenfolk and the bowl.
Contentment floods Safriath's mind as the meat finally begins to fill and Nenita so compliantly gets her wound treated. The word itching piques her interest and she indicates, with both a mental guiding and the tip of her craning muzzle, the spots around her shoulder blades that have begun to look scaly. << Is that what this is? >> She reaches in, deep down, for her rider's concept of itching. << I think it is. It does bother me, my Nenita. >> Which of course, again, means 'fix it.'
"We'll get the rest of the sand off of you, Safriath. Then oil." With feeding down, Nenita places her hand on the her head, leading them towards where oil and rags can be found. Once they're there, the pair will settle down to the task remaining mostly quiet and out of the way during the rest of the general chaos.
P'draig does a slow sweep of the space, pausing to pick up stuff, tuck in a drowsing weyrling and pauses by Suizen. "Hand up?" he offers to the brownriding weyrling. "For you know, that bath and changing. And there's stuff to eat right there, but you're welcome to go to the cavern for the party if he's all set," a tilt of his head towards sleeping Sivrudith. Mic's been doing more rounds too and most of the worst of the discarded things have been picked up. D'pry gets to the end of his spiel. "So just you know, if you need anything, we're around!" and he finally lets L'hai and Kolniveth be, doing some tidying too then making gestures at Paddy as he ducks outside for a bit.
"I think I'll hit the party, at least for a little bit... but first, must get clean...." Sooz exaggerates the doom-sounding words for a moment, before taking that hand to get to her feet. Of course, that might also be to let the reality of everything set it. Sivrudith gets a bemused look, then she shakes her head. To everyone in general, "See you in the caverns?" as she wipes her hands on the robe a moment.
Hauling Sooz to her feet, P'draig nods. "Yep, see you there in a bit," he answers with a smile and moves on to Ch'son. "All set here? Need anything?" he asks of the weyrling. "Is that slash giving you any trouble?"
"I think I might go visit the infirmary before I go doin' anything else," Ch'son says to no one in particular, glancing at the now snoozing bronze before he looks toward P'draig. "Just t'make sure it ain't gonna rip open any and," his thoughts are probably way more exaggerated than they should be but whatever they are make him pale a little bit around the edges.
"Sounds like a plan," P'draig says to the weyrling with a nod. "Your stuff should be all brought over from the candidate barracks by the time you get back, if you want to change to go celebrate or anything," the Weyrlingmaster notes further with an encouraging look for the young man. Last but not least, Paddy checks in on L'hai one last time, before he slips away for a quick washup and change of his own. The weyrlings will notice perhaps though that the office door remains open and T'mic can be seen inside with his feet up on the desk flipping through some papers while the others are away. Over the course of the evening, there'll always be at least one of the weyrlingmasters on-duty keeping an eye out and within easy calling distance.
When: 4/21/20
Where: Weyrling Barracks, Ista Weyr
What: After the hatching, it's always crazy. Three need wounds seen to and babies learn to eat and get oiled and settle in.
It's a mad house over here with Mic and D'pry helping out the already-impressed and at least one dragonet already curled up asleep, gleaming with a fresh coat of oil. There's splashes of oil on the floor, buckets of meat everywhere and the distinct tang of bloody, raw flesh taints the air.
Kolniveth stays near his new lifemate, close enough that his shoulder bumps L'hai's leg as they walk. He's there for support, too, if the weyrling needs it after that bit of a booboo on the sands, but largely the young bronze is looking around with eager, interested eyes. << What is this? Where are we now? I smell... >> He takes a bit sniff of the air and his eyes whirl with an even hungrier red.
Suizen heads into the barracks with Sivrudith, Javeri leading the pair in before going back out to handle her duties. "No doubt there'll be plenty to be eatin', we'll just have to be findin' you the right stuff.." she assures him, before looking about to see which pile of bloody meat to head towards.
Sivrudith hurries Suizen along if she dares think of dawdling. He'll haul with his teeth on her robe if he has to. Big feet stomp, stomp, stomp on stone and he doesn't stop once he finds a bucket of meat nearby. Even if it wasn't mean to be his. Food! << Hurry up, Sooz! Your mate's starving! >>'
Walking in with L'hai, P'draig's got a weather eye on that blood stain on the new weyrling's tunic and he's keeping close step to make sure the other man doesn't suddenly pass out or anything. T'mic looks up from doing an oil demonstration and spots Suizen, flashing her a trademark toothy grin. "Soooz, he's hungry? Right here." And the greenrider steps over to catch up a fresh bucket, brings it to the new brownpair.
L'hai can use the support, too, as evidenced by the way he wobbles a bit when he walks-- possibly even more than the more justified hatchling. His fingers flex against that bronze neck, constantly checking that it's even there. What it feels like. "We're, uh, somewhere else... You're smelling food because you're hungry and they have it here..." Red still leaks under the hand he has clamped to his side but he remains upright, walking.
That red welling at L'hai's side narrows P'draig's eyes and he pretty much guides the pair to the first place to stop and get the weyrling to sit down. "Let's get him something to eat," he says in a steady voice, catching up a bucket and passing it over. "Just make sure it's one piece at a time and he's chewing. I'll get you some numbweed for that rake. I'm going to need to look at it too, might need a healer for stitches," the brownrider says matter-of-factly. "But you're still on your feet so that's a good sign, okay Lach-- what should I call you now?"
Kolniveth turns to look up at L'hai, to give a light nudge toward the hand that covers his wound. << You're okay. >> He says it like a statement, but there's a question in there too. But there's no question at all when he says, << I'm with you, L'hai >> even if a bit of worried yellow tinges his eyes now. His head whips toward P'draig then, eager since the Weyrlingmaster sounds quite helpful.
"Thanks, Mic..." Sooz answers, before taking the bucket, and putting it down near Sivrudith, before asking, "You alright there, Lach?"
Food! Sivrudith is just not interested in waiting. << Don't listen to him, Suizen! We don't need his help! Just feed me! >> The brown lets out a sad creel and nudges against Sooz again. The first piece of food she offers he snatches from her hands barely sparing fingers.'
Lingering by Suizen, T'mic provides the usual reminders: one piece at a time, chew slowly and then there's a bawling sound from over yonder and theh greenrider goes scampering off in that direction with an upheld finger. "Hold that thought, see how he does with that meat."
L'hai eases his way down a bit awkwardly, since he's all about not losing contact with Kolniveth. Once down, though, he tips his hand away from the wound for the first time, having been amply applying pressure before. "What?" That's for P'draig, a misunderstanding of the question. A brief, confused stare, then, "Oh, uh... do you mean L'hai?" He winces a bit, but distracted into looking at those whirling eyes quickly, "But I didn't think you would be..." Doubts it even now.
It's pretty chaotic in here and only getting the more so as more dragonets and weyrlings pour in. D'pry and T'mic are being kept hopping providing oil and meat, two dragonets are now asleep and oiled with blinking weyrlings sitting there shell-shocked and P'draig is seeing to L'hai who's still bleeding while Sooz has a bucket of meat over yonder for Sivrudith.
Nenita arrives in the barracks, having followed Javeri in there. Once inside she looks all sorts of confused, she's never been in here before. Her shoulder is still bleeding, damnit. And now there's this dragon following her around and by the expression on her face she'd like to feed her, very, very soon.
"L'hai," P'draig echoes firmly and again he's eyeballing that wound. The bucket though is given a nudge. "L'hai, heads up, okay? Feed him from the bucket, one chunk of meat at a time, make sure he chews." It's a reminder and then Paddy steps away to get down the pot of numbweed and returns to hunker down at the weyrling's side. "Let's see this injury here, make sure you don't need any stitches," the Weyrlingmaster says in that same calm tone of voice, none of his movements particularly sudden.
Suizen gets nudged by Sivrudith, as she asks her question, then chuckles down at him. "I'm feedin', I'm feedin' - but if we go too fast, you're gonna end up sickin' it all up, an' there'll be no more to eat..." she exaggerates slightly, after offering a second piece of meat to the snatching brown.
Javeri hurries off the sands to catch the last few weyrlings. "Food," she says loudly to break through daze. "Nenita, Chaes...whatever we call you now!" She gestures to where buckets are set up. "Feed them one piece at a time and make sure they chew. No choking please."
Kolniveth lets out a snort at L'hai's silly doubts. << Of course I am. >> However, that Weyrlingmaster guy is talking about meat and meat sounds mighty good. << Can I eat? I'm starving. Aren't you hungry? >> He is, and L'hai does have some pain so maybe food can fix that too. What does he know.
Safriath does follow her new rider into the barracks, movements proud and high-stepping. << You're hurting, >> she notices idly, but as they're escorted to a suitable spot more pressing issues resurface. << But I am so hungry. And I have sand on me. >> The subtext is clearer than any subtext has ever been: my Nenita is meant to do something about one or both of those. Now.
Sivrudith doesn't want to wait. He's going to snap at every piece she offers. When his tail swishes behind him and hits an empty bucket of meat it tips over and rolls with a clatter. The brown's head snaps around to watch it and then sends to his rider pure, if loud, pleasure. << Aww right! Did you see that? Did you hear that! >> It's exciting, but not enough to keep him from eating.
Ch'son limps his way into the barracks but he's not really thinking about pain or blood or anything except exactly what Javeri says. Food. He's not a man that lets himself get hungry. He limps his way toward the food and, "One piece at a time? Are you sure?" That seems too slow. He casts a look toward Taineth.
"Nenita, my name is still Nenita." She tells Javeri, obviously not catching onto that the latter part of her remark was meant for the Ch'son and not herself. There's no bite to it though, just more of the dazed voice. Again there's more head shaking before she begins to usher for Safriath to follow her, "I can feed you. But you have to promise not to choke. I don't know how to do make you spit up if you do." Mention of sand gets her to look down at whatever granules are attached to her. "...I'll get right on that." Once they're to the meat buckets, she shoves a hand into to grab a piece. Not afraid juicey, delicious meat. Nope.
"I'm positive, Chaes," Javeri says with a reassuring grin. "One piece at a time and make sure he chews. He's just a baby." Glancing at Nenita she grins. "And here I thought you'd be N'nit or something." Hey, she doesn't have a baby in her head. She can joke! "Are you hurt bad. Wait. You were hurt weren't you?" Now she's getting flustered though! "Umm. Sit. Right. You two sit and someone will come look at you." Not her. Not with bloody meat about! She's careful not to look at it.
"You smacked that bucket around very well. Taught it what-for.." Sooz agrees, slightly bemused after the loud clatter, before working her way through a couple more pieces of meat. For Sivrudith. Not her. Her ears are ringing too much to eat, if the way she occasionally rubs at her left ear is any indication, while her right hand does all the work
Up comes Paddy's head from where he's tending L'hai, first to check on Sooz and he grins over at her. "Good job," he encourages her. "Keep it up with him --" and breaks off, starts chuckling for some reason. He looks over briefly towards where Ch'son and Nenita have come in and the color on that hide following Nenny around widens his eyes just a touch but he only clears his throat and calls over: "Congratulations both of you, Nenny, Chaeson," for lack of another name to use with the bronze weyrling. "Don't forget to clean up after, Sooz," Paddy pulls his attention back that way.
Taineth's eyes are purely focused on Ch'son, despite the flecks of hungry red that stain them. << I can eat more than one piece at a time. Look at how big my mouth is. >> And open wide he does, showing off the inside of his maw. << See? YOu and I are great. You can handle that wound, and I can handle more than one piece of meat. >>
Heads up! L'hai hurries to as much attention as he has right now, beyond all the dizziness and the... whatever. Oh, and the bleeding. "O-Oh, of course you can eat. Am I? Well, not for this..." At least he thinks so-- hopes that the hunger is all Kolniveth's-- considering that he's dipping his hand into a bucket of sloppy meat chunks. "What was the other thing? Right, chewing." And the offering is made, him being barely aware that P'draig is doing anything at all, even if it involves pulling away robes and looking at sensitive sides.
Sivrudith spreads his wings and sits up straight for the praise from his Suizen. << It made a noise! It was amazing! Suizen! Pick it up so I can do it again! >> This is said as he chews. Chews slowly even though he's so hungry because he wants to knock the bucket over again. << Please. For your mate. >>
Juicy and delicious is right. Safriath revels in both as soon as she has that first piece in her mouth. Her chewing isn't dainty, but neither is it wolfing and gulping; she simply /savors/. When a ravenous brown hatchling and his rider move to the same bucket for some share of the meat, though, Safriath eyes them. << He's eating my food. >> A veil of possession, so clear in your mind, settles over the bucket in question. Not that that will keep her from accepting any chunks of meat Nenita may still be feeding her. << My Nenita, please tell him it's mine. >>
"Ch'son," Chaes says, remembering to offer his new name, but he's staring at the bronze still as he sits as instructed after he has meat to feed to Taineth. "He says he can eat more than one," he tells whoever's going to listen doubtfully while he looks into the gaping maw. "The lady says one at a time, man. So here." He puts one piece into the bronze's mouth. "And chew or you'll choke and die." Nothing great about that.
Nenita blinks owlishly at the bluerider a few times before finally laughing. "N'nit. You don't hate me do you?" Which is... sort of an awkward question but it just comes out. This is what happens when your mind is all sorts of muddled. "My shoulder got caught by his talon." A glance towards L'hai's bronze. "It's oozing." Sitting down she holds the piece of meat out for Safriath's mouth, dropping it into her maw. "You have to allow him to eat some of it, otherwise he'll starve to death. You wouldn't want something like that to happen, would you?" But still. She smiles politely at the young brown hatchling and his rider. "She's possessive. Maybe there are some available buckets over there?"
Suizen pauses a moment to resettle the bucket in its upright position, "Alright Rudi, but pay attention to your food, eh? Gotta eat while the food's all here an' ready, right-o?" she asks, handing out more pieces to be snatched out of sight as soon as they appear. "Sivrudith, or the bucket, P'draig?" she asks, a bit confused as she focuses on the man somewhat.
"That's it, hand him a piece," P'draig encourages and then pipes down to tend to the wound itself, hands gentle though the robe actually needs a little snip of scissors to show off the gashes. "This might sting a little," Paddy says quietly and it's Kolniveth he's looking at again, to make sure that he's not going to react badly as he applies some redwort and follows it rapidly with a swipe of numbweed. "L'hai." He says the name very clearly and waits until the weyrling can spare him an iota of attention. "Looks okay for now. But I want you to go see Dulcinea once you've gotten Kolniveth settled, understood?"
Kolniveth is getting fidgety, seeing the bucket, seeing L'hai's hand in the bucket. Meat can't get to his mouth fast enough and he puts talons on his lifemate's leg, so eager to get the food in his belly. He seems to have grasped that humans, they are delicate, and so the rest of that paw is a light one, no more scraping or gouging. He chews hastily and none so well, already opening his mouth for more, sharing with L'hai just how potent that meat smells to him, all bloody and delicious.
"Ch'son," Javeri repeats and then winks even if the new bronzerider misses it. "So much for those lines," she tells him with a grin. "But one piece, please. When he starts to bulge he should be done. Then there's oil. He'll need a good cleaning and oiling too." Lingering near the bronzerider she looks around because someone's going to have to check out wounded people and it won't be her! When Nenita speaks the bluerider turns her head blinking. "Of course not. And someone will be right over to check your shoulder. I promise." Now she tries to catch D'pry's eye so she can ask him to do it!
Taineth obediently gobbles up that one meat piece, despite his earlier claim. Rider probably knows best on this one. << Die? I doubt I would die. I just started living. I have too much to do before that. >> And, just to clarify, he adds: << And so do you. >> Chew, chew, chew. Swallow. Next, please!
With L'hai's wound tended to for now, P'draig straightens and looks Suizen's way. "Heh, at the rate he's going, Sooz, both," he tells her with a hint of teasing in his tone. "But I meant the bucket. Don't want anyone tripping," he notes and reaches over to catch another weyrling by the elbow as she goes skidding on a patch of oil. "Speaking of, let's get that a little mopped up."
Sivrudith creels with delight, and hunger, when the bucket is righted. Meat in his mouth he tells Suizen << Watch this! >> Crash! His tail sends the bucket skittering across the floor as he watches to clunk right against the bucket being used by Ch'son. << That'll teach em! >>
Safriath does take Nenita's words in while she chews away, happiness blooming gradually in her thoughts like a wide-petaled flower. << I suppose. If it means he'll die. He can have some of my food, >> she responds graciously, the tempo of her post-hatching hunger still beating under her words. Edging closer she places a pointed paw on Nenita's leg, grains of black sand transferring from hide to skin. There's an expectation there, a demand for attention. Can't you do two things at once?
P'draig brushing his hands off on his pants, P'draig picks up the first aid supplies and eyeballs Kolniveth again. "Chew all the way," he tells the young bronze with a grin, rests a hand briefly on L'hai's shoulder then heads over to Ch'son and Nenita. "More walking wounded, Veri?" he asks nearby Javeri while T'mic circles back around checking on others and picking up dropped items on the way, a swab of a cloth made across that puddle on the floor to avoid further slipping.
Nenita offers some more meat to the ravenous young gold, again smiling politely at the other weyrling. The pair is looking a little nervous before they decide maybe it's better to just move on than deal with both of them. After all, he's hungry too. So hungry. "Ah well, I guess they'll eat elsewhere. But there are other starving dragons too." Fourteen other starving dragons. There's a glance around before more food is given to Safriath. "Chew carefully, very good." When the paw is presented she automatically wipes the sand off with a distracted hand. Meanwhile, she's still oozing through her robe which must look very attractive.
L'hai improves his meat-grabbing pace once he's already resigned to having the juice dribbling all over him-- the mental encouragements only aiding this further. "Slow, now, nice. Steady." He does wait long enough to say this though, making a sort of jaw-moving demonstration to correct Kolniveth's chewing. His glance to P'draig is absently done, but he *is* listening. The soft, "Oh, Dulcinea..." proves that. Good thing a pressuring paw on his leg keeps him rooted where he should be.
"Ack. Let's play with the bucket after dinner, eh? Chaes' is already a bit beat up..." Sooz responds, trying not to snicker, before she hands Rudi another scrap. "I'll be right back, eh? Wantin' more, or is it cleanin' up time?" she asks her partner in crime, as she makes her way over to fetch the rocket-bucket. "Sorry 'bout that."
"Afraid so," Javeri tells Paddy with a grin. "All our big boys and girl seemed to want someone with some blood on them." Shaking her head she gets D'pry's attention and waves him over. "Can you, umm," she asks with a nod to Chaes and Nenita. Thankfully her fellow bluerider assistant knows what to do and he'll start with Nenita to be sure she doesn't more than a little patching up.
Ch'son offers another piece to the bronze and says without looking at the bluerider, "Thanks for that reminder." Totally exactly what he needed right now. "I don't have anything to do," Chaes says back to the dragon and he's reaching for another piece of meat when his bucket is knocked away. "Hey," he frowns and tries to reach further for it without actually moving. It's kind of a sensitive area but he's still nicely distracted.
Taineth squawks in surprise as the bucket Sivrudith whacked goes flying. He jumps backwards, knocking over a big oil brush in the process, which hits the ground with a loud clatter. Embarassed, the young bronze folds his wings in tighter to his body and looks up apologetically at his rider. << I am sorry, Ch'son. I did not mean to make us appear clumsy. >>
<< More! >> Although Sivrudith is not clear on if he wants more smashing or more food. Although when Sooz gets up he does drop his head right into his food bucket. Sniff, sniff. What's this? He licks the side of the bucket and finds a piece of meat to chew on while waiting. << Don't know why you have to listen to him, Sooz. Like he's too good to get the bucket? >> The brown flops right where he is and then smacks his tail on the ground. << I itch! Make it stop! >> He lets out a loud belch and then his head nudges the food bucket over so he can continue to eat the remains of what's inside while lying down.
"That's one way to start things out," P'draig says with easy going good humor and waits for a moment while Nenita and Ch'son feed their dragonets. He nods D'pry's way as the other assistant approaches Nenita. "Slow and careful around the dragonets," he reminds the youngest of the new assistants and the least experienced, though at least the young bluerider does seem to know his way around a pot of numbweed. "Whoa there," is added as Tainath makes things clatter again. "All right there?" he asks then nods Ch'son's way. "Let's see that injury of yours, while he's still eating. Want to get an idea of how bad before you start on oiling."
Javeri's looking a little green around the edges truth be told. Maybe that's why she was ready for anyone to step in and take over with the walking wounded. Or maybe it's the meat. Whatever the case she edges away and looks at P'draig. "I'm going to go double check that all the cots and couches are ready to go for when they're sleepy." And get a bit of fresh air as well.
As more and more meat enters her belly, Safriath's is free to fit other things in her head, namely the pain she's still receiving from her rider. << You're still hurt, >> she notes, surprise entering the cadence. This hasn't been done yet? << Get one of them to take care of it for you. >> Them, one of those tall people milling about that are catering to them. When the brushed paw reaches a satisfactory level of cleanliness, she gracefully switches them to let Nenita begin on the next.
T'mic edges back over Suizen's way as Sivrudith's bucket empties out. "How's he doing, Sooz? Here let's get that bucket out of the way. Does he itch?" The greenrider's as cheery as ever.
Ch'son offers a smile to Suizen for the bucket and then the smile is turned on the bronze, almost affectionate. It's weird. And it's gone after a moment when Ch'son clears his throat. "You're fine, man. That one's way worse," he offers a glance to Sivrudith.
"Well, he's cleanin' up the oil, so why not? And slowly, Rudi..." Sooz adds, heading back herself, before stopping. "Itching? Oh! Hey Mic.. yah. I should oil him now?" So asks the one resident who's yet to have any a little 'lizard at her beck and call, totally missing the comment about her partner in crime.
Kolniveth thinks faster is definitely better. Faster meat to his mouth! And slowing down to chew? Well, he has to roll his shoulders and focus to do that, red burning brighter in his eyes as hunger and frustration build. << Like this? >> he asks, dubious that slow is the way to go. But if L'hai insists, well... okay. Thankfully ever glob of meat down the gullet eases his tension a little bit more. He inches closer to his lifemate, but also take his first look around the cavern now that it's full of his clutchmates.
Taineth peers up at that big new guy who seems to know what he's talking about. Knowing an authority figure when he sees one, the bronze politely munches on his raw food as Ch'son starts to get tended to. He doesn't even try to sneak more than one into his mouth at a time, much as he might be tempted to. << Oh, yes. We are much better. When can we start practicing things? >>
"Yes, I am." Nenita answers, just a touch sourly while she peeks down at the stain on her robe. Turning it into dry humor, that hopefully the young dragon will catch, "If I'm lucky, I'll survive." With the switch of the paw, she's once again brushing sand off of Safraith and onto the floor. Once it's gone, she takes a moment to really look down at her hide, admiring before shaking her head. "You're very lovely. Would you like more to eat?" The approach of an assistant gets her attention and she does indeed speak to D'pry when he gets near. "Can I have some cotton gauze to clean this up?"
Safriath does indeed give a laugh for Nenita's humor, the rich and oh-so-deep sound joined by a subtle patter of castanets. It's a distraction from eating, though, and is therefore short-lived. She does take the time to bask in the praise, though only after she's confirmed the need for more food with an overwhelmingly firm, << Yes. >> Then, << We are lovely together. Very lovely. The loveliest. How lovely am I? >> Maw opened expectantly, she waits.
D'pry swallows nervously and bobs his head at Nenita, which earns him a brief look from P'draig. "Um, yes ma'am," the assistant says and starts to fumble for that. From over by Ch'son where Paddy's hunkered down taking a look at Ch'son's thigh, the Weyrlingmaster offers over: "Redwort first to clean it off, check how deep it is, swab with numbweed to keep it under control. If it's not too deep, it won't need a healer to look at it," he notes calmly and his gaze shifts briefly to Nenita. There's an encouraging smile and Paddy's dousing his fingers in redwort, cleaning off the gash up high on Ch'son's thigh. "Hold still, this'll sting. Tell Taineth it'll be okay, please and uh, try not to flash the barracks," he notes with a chuckle. After cleaning there'll be numbweed for now at least.
"If he's itchy, let's get started on that oil for this handsome brown of yours, Sooz," T'mic says with a nod and he loops over a nearby half-used bucket. "You've helped out with this before, right? Paddle the stuff on, work it in with your hands and the rag. Should feel good to him. Keep an eye out for any patchy spots on his hide."
"That prevents you from hurting yourself," L'hai informs the impatient bronze, trying to keep as serious a face as possible. "And hurting while eating would, well, defeat the purpose. Sort of like... what I'm doing..." Explaining seems to comfort him, even as he winces from his side or feels the pangs of his lifemate-- ahh, lifemate! The meat comes steadily now, him being somewhat reassured that no one's going to choke and keel over. At the thought of others, though, the new weyrling glances up and seems to realize that the rest of the room is alive, too. Alive, noisy. He squints, overwhelmed, then carefully tries to take stock of each and every person and dragon in there. All while still feeding, of course.
"/Will/ it be okay?" Ch'son give P'draig a quick look. Stinging sounds like it hurts, not like it's okay. But he looks at Taineth and says like he's trying to convince himself more than the dragon, "It'll be okay. And don't flash the barracks." No wait, that was really for him. "Uh. Practicing? Later."
"On a bigger scale, ayup..." Sooz agrees, before reaching over to ladle a paddle full of oil over Sivrudith's back, then squishing her hands on, to the brown's pleasure. "If you're thinkin' this feels nice, you'll be lovin' clay-stuff..." Ah, mud pits. What a wonderful thing. Ah, mud pits. Ain't no passin' craze.
Taineth cants his head to the side, his curiousity peaked by this 'flashing' business. << What is that? Flash? Flashing? >> His wings flare out, allowing the light of the cavern to glint off the shiny specks that dot his hide. << Is this what it is? Am I flashing now? >> As the stinging of Ch'son's wound begins, Taineth's wings falter slightly but remain stretched out. He gives no other verbal or visual sign of complaint.
As D'pry is attempting to tend to her wound, "One moment, please." She hastily feeds her new lifemate another piece of meat. Her internal laughter brings a broad smile to her face. "You are the loviest, Safriath. Exceptionally beautiful." Whoever said feeding egos wasn't wise, didn't tell that to Nenita. Whenever she's done plopping that meat into the waiting maw, she pulls her robe down over her shoulder to expose the ugly, but shallow, gash. "I don't have time to go to the healers." She tells the new assistant weyrlingmaster. "I have to feed her and then get all the sand off her hide."
Kolniveth doesn't seem to mind the chaos at all--it's like he barely notices. But L'hai notices and so the bronze gives his head a cocky tilt and flicks a wing as if to say he's got it all under control. Moving that wing, though, alerts him to the sensation of his hide starting to dry. He keeps chewing, trying to make it just a bit quicker now that L'hai seems less worried. << My shoulders feel funny. >> He wiggles them, extends a wing to feel the pull of taut skin. << Can we fix this? >> He hasn't forgotten the new weyrling's wound, either. << We have to get you fixed, too. >> So much to get done.
"It will," P'draig assures, looking up at the weyrling with a smile. "It's deeper on one end, Dulcinea might need to have a look-see, but you're set for now. Let me know if it starts to bleed through the numbweed and we can put a bandage on. I might actually have someone go get the healer to come over here and look all three of you over, so you don't have to go anywhere," the Weyrlingmaster considers aloud and then hefts himself back up to his feet to go check on D'pry's handiwork which is not going so well. "Why don't you go check on L'hai and Kolniveth, make sure his side's not bleeding through and that they've got oil," the Weyrlingmaster suggests to the nervous young bluerider who looks relieved and hastens off to tend to the other bronzeriding pair, lugging an oil bucket over with him. "Okay Nenny," P'draig says and takes a look over at Safriath. "What's your beauty's name there? I didn't catch it and Jekzith's busy with that squally green over there," he waves in that direction. Hands swabbed again, deft fingers take the measure of that wound, then the Weyrlingmaster nods. "I don't think this will need anything more than numbweed and a bandage, but it's ragged. Cleaning it out," he tells the goldriding weyrling briskly and as with the others gets the basics handled, then tucks her robe back up over the wound, a gauze pad stuck on by dint of thick coating of numbweed.
Ch'son laughs. It's genuine even if it sounds a little off. But blame that on the stinging. He's trying to hold his robe so he's not doing any flashing and he says to the bronze, "Aye, yes. That's very good flashin', Taineth. You're a natural." And when it's all over and Ch'son is left with Taineth, he takes a moment to look at the wound himself, refrains from poking at it and says, "You done eatin'?"
Safriath lets those doting words from her rider roll around for a bit, lets them echo with the snappy rhythm of her mind until they disappear in a red whirl. After that bit of savoring is done, though, she taps her foot against Nenita's leg, once but very firmly, a demand for yet another piece. << Yes, tell him who I am, >> she encourages Nenita as she watches the Weyrlingmaster come to attend them. << And tell him he's to do a good job with that. >> That wound, that scratch.
Taineth smugly tucks those shimmering wings back in. << Thank you, Ch'son. I think we will be naturals at many things. >> Any other proud comments must be delayed, though, as a sudden itching overtakes his hide. << Ahh! It is everywhere! Get it all at once, please! >> He begins to wiggle awkwardly, inching closer to his rider.
Nenita watches as the young man takes off, probably to less fussy patients that aren't demanding not to go to the healer because of sand-cleanings. "Nice meeting you!" She calls out after him before smiling down at her Safriath and rubbing her jaw affectionately. P'draig's appearance results in her holding the robe down again, once more exposing the wound so he can work on it. "Her name is Safriath." And oh yes, there is certainly some pride there. There's an indulgent smile and glance to the gold before she looks to Paddy again, "She'd like you to do a good job on it."
"There you go, Sooz," T'mic says encouragingly and lingers by the brownpair pointing out how to really get into the nooks and crannies around where limbs meet body. "Think he'll be into mud pits? That sounds like fun."
"I think he'll be into all sorts of things...." Sooz admits, sounding not at all dismayed by the prospect, before she laughs. "Hey now. You just got out of the shell. I'd think you'd be all worn out, with all that work done..." she teases the brown, all too curious about what mud is, and what's a pit, and, and, and. Fingers dig into nooks and cranies, as Rudi goes bonelessly sprawling at the oiling.
L'hai is startled out of what counting he was doing by this new persistence. He wars briefly with which thing he'd rather attend to, then scoots forward to put a hand on that shoulder, really grasp the feeling going on. "Yes, there's something for that. It's, uh..." Oh, look, it's right here, because someone has thought to bring the oil close. Though he hovers a hand near his own wound at mentioning, he doesn't touch it. His hands are are gross now, after all. He's just going to have to let it sting on its own. "Me fixed might.. take longer. Where did you say now?" That's for the oil, which is a whole other mess.
D'pry bobs his head as he heads off at Nenita's greeting looking all kinds of double-flustered and P'draig frowns just a little before he turns his attention back to the task at hand. "Nice to meet you Safriath," he says directly to the baby gold. "Just about set here and when Nenita's done here, the healer can take a look to make double sure," Paddy notes reassuringly. "Is she itchy yet?" he asks in a mostly conversational tone. "If so, let's get you started on cleaning up and oil." With the wound all taken care of he takes a little step back and lifts his voice. Helpfully, Jekzith echoes a call to pay attention to the dragonets who're awake. "Hey everyone, just a quick minute before some of you drop off," because there's a weyrling nodding off over yonder. "Once you've fed, cleaned up and oiled your dragon, you're welcome to get cleaned up yourselves and go over to the living cavern for something to eat and drink. They're bringing over stuff too for in here, so you don't have to leave if you don't want or need to either. Please don't drink more than a sip of wine or beer and that's just for tonight. After today, nothing that'll get you drunk for a little while." D'pry meanwhile, sets the oil bucket he was lugging down next to L'hai. "For itchy hide!" he announces brightly and earnestly. "Like what they're doing," he points.
Kolniveth starts twitching more. << Everywhere, L'hai. Everywhere. My shoulders, my wings. My legs. Oh, my neck. >> It comes out quick, that list. The bronze blinks an eye, checking to see if that, too, is getting tight. However, he doesn't tack it on, so it must be fine. << How long will it take? You getting fixed up. >> Meanwhile, he steals himself another piece of meat out of the bucket.
Ch'son doesn't quite startle when Taineth realizes he's itching but he can feel it, too, and that's a very odd sensation. "Hold up, man. Just let me--" he moves to rise and find what he needs to wash the bronze down and oil him, then returns to start doing exactly that. "Hold still. And more your-- this," he grabs for a wing but doesn't actually try to put any pressure on it. "Down so I can get between."
"Sounds like it," T'mic replies to Suizen and he stands back to observe her oiling technique, nods as that's getting going all right and swings away to check on another pair a little bit over but still within earshot of Sooz and her brown.
Taineth isn't too helpful at first as he continues to do his little itchyspots dance. Ch'son gets through to him, though, and he dutifully lowers his wings for his 'mate. << Wings first, please! No, back. No, no! My tail, it is ever so itchy. Can you do it all at once? My head, too. And my neckridges! >> Always more, more, more.
Suizen shakes her head with a bit of a grin and continues to work the oil in, until eyes start to drop. "Oh no you don't. I'm not carryin' you over to your bed. Come on. Up y'go... it'll be a comfy bed waitin' you, perfect to be lazin' about on..." she bribes the dragonet with, unmindful of the oily mess she currently is as she half picks up Rudi and supports him in to an empty spot.
To make up for his inability to do it all at the same time, Ch'son does it as quickly as he's capable without completely half-assing it. He ends on the head, which he's a little more thorough with because he hasn't really taken a chance to /really/ look at it yet. And when he begins with the oil, that's where he starts. "Could just dig a pit and fill it with oil so you can dunk yourself in it, aye?" He's teasing.
Everywhere. Well, alright. L'hai takes that list and, thanks to D'pry's timely arrival, begins the process of getting to each area in the precise order Kolniveth gave it. He frowns at the stolen meat, but can't quite bring up a reprimand. Since oiling has him moving around, he goes stiffly, cautious to quite extend himself all the way with his side the way it is. "Not long," he reassures idly, "The woman there, she's very efficient. Which is... hmmph, good. Not the most convenient thing, ah, stabbing claws..."
Kolniveth remembers now--he'd forgotten in all the excitement--that those wounds are his own fault. << I had to find you, >> he says in his own defense. But then, oh then, oh the oil. He forgets to chew the hunk of meat he has in his mouth, and he struggles to keep his eyes open as the oil finds those itchy patches of his hide. << Damn, that's good. >>
Taineth's talons twitch, clearly intrigued by this 'dig a pit' business, even if it was a joke. << You know, that is an excellent idea. We should have an oil pit. Can we do it? >> He can't help but paw at the ground, but he does no earnest digging. Handily, the food in his belly, combined with his freshly oiled hide, means Ch'son won't actually have to deal with a digging bronze. << Though, that will take a great deal of energy. Perhaps...sleep first. So that we can do it very well later. >> The lights of his mind are foggy now, hazed by the need to sleep.
A look around shows things coming together, more dragonets curling up into couches to sleep and P'draig rolls his head from side to side, shoots a look over at D'pry who is still animatedly demonstrating oiling technique for L'hai in spite of the lassitude that Kolniveth's starting to display. The Weyrlingmaster looks over at Ch'son and Taineth, nods. "Looking good here. Make sure to pick out a couch and have them climb in before they conk out," he lifts his voice so all can hear again and Jekzith is encouraging the same for baby dragons directly.
As Taineth starts to get all hazy and sleepy, Ch'son starts guiding him toward a suitable couch which may or may not be quite so suitable once the bronze is more focused. We'll see! "Sleep first and we'll do it later." That's probably the best thing that the new fangled weyrling has heard all day. Once Taineth has taken up a couch and promptly passed out, Chaes droops like some strings that were holding him up a moment before have slackened considerably. "I need a drink."
As promised, the kitchen staff have brought trays of things for the weyrlings to eat and there's pitchers of juice and water for them to help themselves to, all set up over near the entrance. There's the sound of music drifting around now though, echoing from across the Bowl in the living cavern which speaks of celebration of the hatching going on.
L'hai's look is skeptical, but he can't remain so for very long. Not while still staring at that large bronze proof. "Me," he echoes, hollowly. Then it's back to the process of carefully oiling each portion until he gets near the head and notices a full mouth. "Ah, ah," as he leans away, the grimacing that goes with it almost absent, so expected. "If it's in your mouth, you finish it." He uses the small break to look to D'pry for any other tips, anything he might be missing. But the nodding of his head probably has more to do with the drowsiness building in Kolniveth than affirmation of technique. For once. When it seems appropriate, the two sort out the fastest route to a couch for the bronze.
"You're not the only one..." Sooz comments, as she slides down to the ground in front of the couch Rudi's sprawled out in. "An' of course, we can't....." she adds with a bit of a groan, before looking at her hands, "I've got to be takin' a bath... an' changin' into real clothes... an' /food/." That last is spoken of when her stomach speaks up with a growl, thanks to the smells and sounds from the kitchenfolk and the bowl.
Contentment floods Safriath's mind as the meat finally begins to fill and Nenita so compliantly gets her wound treated. The word itching piques her interest and she indicates, with both a mental guiding and the tip of her craning muzzle, the spots around her shoulder blades that have begun to look scaly. << Is that what this is? >> She reaches in, deep down, for her rider's concept of itching. << I think it is. It does bother me, my Nenita. >> Which of course, again, means 'fix it.'
"We'll get the rest of the sand off of you, Safriath. Then oil." With feeding down, Nenita places her hand on the her head, leading them towards where oil and rags can be found. Once they're there, the pair will settle down to the task remaining mostly quiet and out of the way during the rest of the general chaos.
P'draig does a slow sweep of the space, pausing to pick up stuff, tuck in a drowsing weyrling and pauses by Suizen. "Hand up?" he offers to the brownriding weyrling. "For you know, that bath and changing. And there's stuff to eat right there, but you're welcome to go to the cavern for the party if he's all set," a tilt of his head towards sleeping Sivrudith. Mic's been doing more rounds too and most of the worst of the discarded things have been picked up. D'pry gets to the end of his spiel. "So just you know, if you need anything, we're around!" and he finally lets L'hai and Kolniveth be, doing some tidying too then making gestures at Paddy as he ducks outside for a bit.
"I think I'll hit the party, at least for a little bit... but first, must get clean...." Sooz exaggerates the doom-sounding words for a moment, before taking that hand to get to her feet. Of course, that might also be to let the reality of everything set it. Sivrudith gets a bemused look, then she shakes her head. To everyone in general, "See you in the caverns?" as she wipes her hands on the robe a moment.
Hauling Sooz to her feet, P'draig nods. "Yep, see you there in a bit," he answers with a smile and moves on to Ch'son. "All set here? Need anything?" he asks of the weyrling. "Is that slash giving you any trouble?"
"I think I might go visit the infirmary before I go doin' anything else," Ch'son says to no one in particular, glancing at the now snoozing bronze before he looks toward P'draig. "Just t'make sure it ain't gonna rip open any and," his thoughts are probably way more exaggerated than they should be but whatever they are make him pale a little bit around the edges.
"Sounds like a plan," P'draig says to the weyrling with a nod. "Your stuff should be all brought over from the candidate barracks by the time you get back, if you want to change to go celebrate or anything," the Weyrlingmaster notes further with an encouraging look for the young man. Last but not least, Paddy checks in on L'hai one last time, before he slips away for a quick washup and change of his own. The weyrlings will notice perhaps though that the office door remains open and T'mic can be seen inside with his feet up on the desk flipping through some papers while the others are away. Over the course of the evening, there'll always be at least one of the weyrlingmasters on-duty keeping an eye out and within easy calling distance.