Needing a New Perspective

[Kitari]

((A'clayr, yo, get y'all butt in 'ere))

How long has it been?

Two hours! Dagonth responded promptly, his tail flicking in amusement as he gazed through the doorway into the section of the Healing Cavern devoted to riders. Two hours since you last asked!

That's not what I meant... B'rec groaned, staring blankly back at his dragon. How long have I been stuck in here?

I don't know, mine. Every day is a day. It has been a lot of them, but there aren't many more to come. You're making sure to heal quickly, right?

Yes, B'rec mumbled, slumping his head down.

This was torture. Absolute torture. It wasn't bad enough that he'd been scored from shoulder to mid-back. It wasn't bad enough that he could barely use his right hand, while the scar healed along his shoulder. Nope, it wasn't even bad enough that having one of the 'major' injuries from the Fall meant that he was trapped in the Infirmary longer than most.

No, to add to all that: he had to lie on his stomach. He had been lying on his stomach day in and out, for sevendays. Beyond count. Even while he slept, he had to wake himself up frequently throughout the night to ensure that he didn't roll over. Because that...that was far too painful.

It was true, he'd been permitted, even encouraged to get up and walk around, once the threat of further injury was over. He was stretching every day, trying to prevent the scar tissue from being too extensive. But most of the time, it was most comfortable to lie on his stomach, reading hides, chatting with Dagonth, or bored out of his wits. Which was where he was currently at.

"I want to fly with you again," he murmured aloud, gazing mournfully at the sapphire blue.

I know, mine. Soon.

It was ironic, really, with Dagonth's stomach injury forcing the blue to lie, quite uncomfortably, on his side for the sevendays it took that to heal. However, the dragon hadn't been as badly injured as his rider, and was already up and prancing around. Except that he only left the Cavern to feed on beasts, then returned to sit with B'rec.

His dragon was all the company he could ever want, and yet...some variation, from day to day, wouldn't be unpleasant.

[Shikai]

Do slow down, mine, now you’re just being silly. Dagonth’s has been in the infirmary for sevendays; I’m sure he isn’t going anywhere.[/I] Despite Atoth’s gentle tone, A’clayr felt a pang of guilt at the dragon’s words.

Exactly. Faranth, I…I can’t believe it’s been this long and I haven’t been to see him. Atoth nuzzled his bonded’s leg reassuringly at the shame permeating his voice.

You’ve been busy.[/I]

A’clayr didn’t answer. True, he had certainly been busier since impressing Atoth than he ever had been as a candidate, although granted, he had skipped his chores on occasion. But caring for his dragon was not an option, nor was it a task he was anything less than completely committed to. Atoth was his life, and he didn’t regret it in the least. But all the same, he had no excuse not to have gone to see B’rec immediately. What kind of friend was he? And his guilt was only worsened by his suspicion that B’rec didn’t have many friends…he likely hadn’t had many visitors since his injury.

The night of the threadfall seemed so long ago now. Had it really been the same day as the beach party? How could he have gone from sitting on the beach with Atoth, waiting and hoping, against all odds, that B’rec would be there so he could introduce him to his dragon (his dragon, what a thought), to fervently hoping that his friend would manage to survive the night? He had joined those chasing down stray thread, in which Atoth showed far much courage than A’clayr had ever been able to muster in his life, but jade eyes had scanned the skies as much for the reassuring glimpse of Dagonth’s blue hide (even from a distance, there could be no mistaking the deep, beautiful color) as for uncaught thread.

Ravyna, of course, had also been on his mind, but while she and Igrainth had lasted the fall, B’rec had not been so fortunate. Indeed, his first impulse upon losing sight of the blue, and at last confirming that they had both been seriously injured via Atoth, had been to go to the infirmary at once. Yet Atoth quickly convinced him that they could not leave while they were needed, and with some reluctance, A’clayr had remained with his dragon. While Atoth was not injured, he was exhausted afterwards, and despite his insistence that he would be fine while they went to see B’rec, A’clayr knew he needed to rest.

But Atoth’s sound sleep that night was not shared by his rider. No, A’clayr had tossed and turned in his cot, wondering if his friend would even survive, much less what the effect of the ‘major injury’ (for such was all the information he had managed to gather) would be on him. B’rec was, without doubt, his closest friend at the weyr…A’clayr could no more ignore the darker side of being a dragonrider.

B’rec was alive and stable, he had heard, but, he supposed, he had been too afraid to see the extent of B’rec’s injuries to visit him. What if he had lost a limb? What if he had been so changed by the injury that he would never be the same again? A’clayr had never liked change…

But by now he was so thoroughly disgusted with his selfishness and ridden with guilt that he could put off the visit no longer. Not one second longer, for that matter. Hence why he was currently charging through the halls toward the infirmary, Atoth trotting alongside him with an air of resignation. Try though he did to reassure his, he had come to accept his often irrational behavior. This was what A’clayr needed to do.

Yet as A’clayr finally reached the infirmary, he stopped just outside it as abruptly as though an invisible wall prevented him from going forward. Atoth… He said, hand moving reflexively to his dragon’s soft, well-oiled neck, as all his anxieties of B’rec’s potential condition seemed to flow back to him at once. The dragon exhaled in a drawn out sigh, and looked up at his rider with slowly whirling eyes.

You know we must go in, mine. Might as well get it over with and put your fears to rest.[/I] A’clayr nodded, and slipped quietly into the infirmary.

His eyes moved from face to face, heart lurching every time they fell on a particularly injured rider as he wondered anxiously if the heavily bandaged man was his friend. His eyes lingered on a brown-haired man with an expression of barely suppressed horror, schooled away in all but his eyes, but Atoth nudged him gently, looking pointedly at a young man in a bed further down. Is that your friend, mine?[/I] A’clayr looked at once to follow his dragon’s gaze, and an odd sensation came to his stomach as he realized, with mixed relief and apprehension, that it was indeed B’rec.

“B’rec!” He exclaimed, rushing at once to his friend, flashing him his best attempt at a wide, relieved smile, although he couldn’t mask the worry as his eyes slipped over B’rec’s form to his bandaged back, surveying the damage with horror. Why, the wound must go all the way from his shoulder to his mid-back at least…

“B’rec, I…it’s good to see…I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner…” A’clayr found himself in one of the rare situations in which he had to flounder for words, and none emerged for him to cling to. He couldn’t keep the guilt out of either his voice nor his face as his expression fell, and he tore his eyes away from B’rec’s, suddenly feeling terribly awkward and ashamed.

[Kitari]

B'rec had just shut his eyes, tired of staring at the enticing shimmer of his blue's hide just through the doorway yet so far out of reach, when his name was exclaimed quite sharply, causing the young man to jump in surprise and then moan at the arcing pain across his back from the sudden movement. More cautiously this time, he opened his eyes and shifted his head carefully to view the person who had approached him. The realization that it was A'clayr almost gave him another start, but he carefully schooled himself to avoid further pain.

Of the Weyrfolk, if anyone were to visit him, B'rec supposed that A'clayr would be the one, since the other young man seemed to be the sole person who didn't mind the bluerider's reticence. He had gone through a difficult time while adjusting to such a social life, after living in isolation all those Turns. Making friends had been the least of his worries in the struggle to survive this strange world. And yet, A'clayr, then Aclaryn, had made a great effort to engage him, almost as if he had sensed the quiet bluerider's need. B'rec had appreciated it, greatly, but had never presumed that A'clayr would be interested in visiting a Threadscored, Infirmary-bound rider. His beliefs had seemed confirmed, as no visitors came through the sevendays. But now, A'clayr was here. And B'rec didn't know what to say.

His features tinged with uncertainty, B'rec gazed up at the Weyrling, listening to the other's rambling speech until it halted rather abruptly. The silence began to stretch, as the young man now grew confused, not understanding A'clayr's strange reaction: downcast eyes, contorted features... Was the other uncomfortable at the sight of his Threadscore?

Taking a deep and sharply indrawn breath, B'rec slowly pushed himself up, sitting on the cot to hide the score. He realized with a churn of his stomach that he would need to reply now. But A'clayr had hardly given him much to work with...and the bluerider was a poor conversationalist at best.

"I...um...thanks for coming," B'rec replied haltingly, brown eyes now following A'clayr's example and settling on the floor. What was he supposed to say? It was a pretty miserable position, the state he was in. Perhaps A'clayr thought him a poor dragonrider, having suffered such an injury, and that's why he was so uncomfortable here. "You really didn't have to...I'm sure you're busy...with um..." he faltered then, staring blankly at the brown dragonet beside A'clayr. He had attended the Hatching, true, but Threadfall had occurred soon after, and the newest dragons' names had been the farthest thing from his mind in the ensuing sevendays...

Good afternoon, Atoth, Dagonth interjected quickly, making his rider privy to the conversation as a matter of assistance. I haven't met many of the dragons from the latest Clutch. This is B'recmine. He and yours were friends before you Hatched. The sapphire blue stuck his snout into the doorway, trying to get a better view of the new arrivals.

"Atoth," B'rec blurted, then flushed slightly. "He's grown a lot. A very handsome brown. I don't think I ever congratulated you. Um...congratulations." And with that, he died a little inside.

[Shikai]

A’clayr’s eyes flicked uncertainly back to B’rec, and, finding that B’rec’s own eyes were locked on the floor, moved hesitantly over him. He didn’t want to stare at the bluerider’s injury (and even more, didn’t want B’rec to catch him staring) but it was impossible to ignore. It was distressing to see his friend so injured, both because, naturally, he cared about him, and because it served as a reminder of the risk taken by every dragonrider. And B’rec, compared to some, was lucky. He and his dragon were both still alive; it could have been worse. These were, of course, distressing thoughts for A’clayr, and he shook his head slightly to clear them, tearing his eyes from the bandages on B’rec’s back. He was being selfish, as usual! He was supposed to be here for B’rec. The rider’s words only deepened the sting of his guilt.

“That’s no excuse!” A’clayr exclaimed. “Dragon or not, what kind of friend am I if I can’t find five minutes in my schedule to visit my best friend?” Reminding himself that he had gone there to help B’rec, not get his own guilt off his chest, he latched onto every weyrling’s favorite topic as it presented itself – his dragon.

A’clayr’s face turned abruptly from worry and guilt to a wide smile as B’rec complimented his dragon. Every weyrling no doubt thought they had the most handsome dragon in all the weyr, but hearing such a compliment from another was another thing entirely.

“Thank you! I never did get a chance to introduce you, did I? I couldn’t believe he chose me. Still can’t quite believe it, actually. But anyway, yes, this is Atoth! He’s better behaved than I expected, for a dragonet…probably better behaved than me.” A’clayr chuckled to himself, casting a fond glance at the brown. It had certainly taken a while to get used to the new bond, and while he hadn’t completely adjusted to it, it was becoming more natural. Took some work, of course, but it was worth it. A’clayr’s smile faded slightly, turning to concern as he looked back to B’rec. “How are you? You and Dagonth both? I know I didn’t exactly visit right away, but…I have been worried.”

The dragon in question, meanwhile, looked over to the blue dragon addressing him. Good afternoon to you as well, Dagonth. I hope you are feeling better, I’m sorry you are hurt.[/color] The dragon replied respectfully. Ah, so I gathered from mine’s behavior. It is a pleasure to meet a friend of A’clayrmine.[/color]

[Kitari]

((Behold! B'rec of the ...'s!))

As B'rec sat there, eyes on the floor and hands sprawled uncomfortably across his knees, he was caught off guard by A'clayr's sharp exclamation. But more than that, it was the phrase 'best friend' that drew his gaze upward. The bluerider was quite stunned by that. He stared at A'clayr, quite dumbfounded and perfectly aware of the dazed expression that had taken ahold of his face. Best friend? Him? B'rec?

For a moment, B'rec felt a flash of confused pity. A'clayr must have had a difficult time fitting in at the Weyr if he considered his awkward encounters with the unresponsive bluerider to be the base of such a strong relationship. A moment later, he (and Dagonth) chided himself. That kind of negativity was the reason he had failed to be considered even a 'friend' by anyone. It was he who had experienced great difficulty in fitting in.

And truly, on reflection, the awkward encounters hadn't been as terrible as they had seemed in the process. B'rec had actually found it easier to relax around A'clayr, easier to speak without feeling like a dim glow.

Truly, what likely distressed him most about A'clayr's statement was not that the other may be mad, but that he, B'rec, would fail to meet such standards. The concept of a 'friend' had been far beyond him, but if A'clayr was willing, then B'rec was certainly willing to give it a try.

"You're a good Weyrling, that's what," he responded with force, both to reassure his...friend, and because it was very true. A Weyrling must tend to his dragon above all else. "Atoth's needs are far more important than watching a man lie down for days on end." Despite himself, B'rec smiled slightly at that.

"I never doubted you'd Impress," B'rec spoke more quietly now. "Atoth is...rather lucky to have you."

"And I'm fine," he quickly brushed off A'clayr's concern, straightening as if to prove his health. And, of course, twinged slightly at the slight strain placed on his scored back. B'rec grimaced and shook his head. "Really, it's not that bad. I should be out of here in no time. And Dagonth's already ready to fly. He's just waiting on me."

Dagonth, meanwhile, sent to Atoth, Thank you for your concern. I am actually feeling much better. As mine says, I'd like to go flying soon. Have you flown yet?