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Post by .K.aci on Jun 24, 2009 15:21:26 GMT -5
Crown found herself pinned by Ezelth, drawn against her side as the Queen fought desperately to protect Her’s from the pain. She was half mad, not realizing that most of the pain came from herself. Crown had spent enough time in the Healer’s to know it was a bad Threadburn, made worse by the fact that Crown had let her hang in the air for too many seconds. She cursed herself as she tried to see the haunch, but Ezelth was holding it up off of the ground – all Crown could see was too much ichor, in too thick a stream. It seemed as though the whole back leg had been eaten through, at least one part to the bone. Oh, Faranth, this was ALL her fault.
Ezelth had voices in her head, too many of them! She drew on the wings, but found they were calm – she could draw off of that, although she was furious the two elder Queen’s had to have everything. They always stole the dragons! She NEEDED them, and they were selfish enough to take them away! It was a fury that wasn’t true, and Crown could only understand half of her dragon’s madness – she was half blinded by the mantled wings and the pain in her own hand. “Ezelth!” Her throat was raw from yelling, but she did all the same, fighting to be heard and calm her dragon down. Her’s made her calm for just a moment, and she could take in the calm that the other Queen’s had been pushing on the wings – she understood she had to stop confusing them, cut off her ties. She did so, wrenching from the other dragons and fighting it all on her own. It was too much – she had been alone at birth, Her’s running from Her!
Crown sensed Ezelth calming down and encouraged it, urging her on with a hopeful heart… And then her dragon did something, and suddenly her mind was nothing but fear and pain. Anger was gone, and it had become as though she was a young dragonet again. It swept Crown up, and the young woman found herself floating with her dragon, gone to the world. Ezelth, the people are trying to help you and yours. You must stop snapping and let them near. You both are in need of their help. For yours and your rider’s sake alike, let them near. The words tried to tug Ezelth from her pain, and she succumbed for barely an instant before knocking them aside, fighting blindly although she couldn’t understand what she was fighting anymore. Ezelth! Ezelth, they are healers, they will take the pain away! It was a lesser dragon, not so much a Queen, and she could see him infront of her. He was the old Blue, but she fought like a child would, darting away and roaring again in fear.
Something struck her wing, but she ignored it as if it was a bug, letting Crown try to figure out what had caused her dragon to fight even more. ‘Claudia!’ No one called her that – it drew her forward, out of the pain haze that Ezelth was dragging her into. “Gaylen?” She knew the old Healer, not well, but it was enough. ‘We’ve got to hold her still! That is bleeding badly, and I have the means to staunch it, but she has to let me in!’ Fix her Ezelth? “Alright!” Her voice was steady and strong, if not a little ragged from the pain she feeling, but she had to fix Ezelth. This was HER fault, she had to fix it!
Meanwhile, Ezelth was in the middle of arguing with a Blue. It turned out she had hit His, and the Blue had uncharacteristically yelled at her, Now cut that out! They're trying to help you! Get hold of yourself, Pern needs you! Anger flooded through her. How DARE he tell her what to do? How DARE he order her around? She was Queen! She would protect Her’s and no Blue would tell HER what to do! Fury etched into Crown’s head, and she gasped, stumbling back. Ezelth’s mind was so open, she could hear what the Blue had told her – and she had understood that Ezelth had understood for a moment.
Minds were touching her again, many minds that she knew. These were minds that had reached out to her when she was just a little younger and had urged her to stay for Her’s – now Her’s voice echoed them, raw kindness and fear for her own safety bleed into the words. Her’s cared, as Tirenth, Lefayeth, Alabanth, and Gwynevith all soothed her. It was Her’s voice that broke threw them all, as the young woman drew upon the power that had helped her live for so long against all odds reach out to Ezelth, gripping her mind and soothing her like a raging runner colt. Hush, my love. It is alright! The words were repeated, and trembling on fatigued muscles Ezelth did manage to calm down, as another form burst from the sky and landed, thudding near them. It almost brought Ezelth into a frenzy, but Crown had her and fought harder, taking the rains in her minds hands and yanking up harder. The Gold succumbed, folding her wings slowly and carefully and dropping her head to Alabanth. With Her’s there taking some of the pain she could function, draw back the Queen’s power as the wings cleared the rest of the thread. I am sorry, Alabanth. Thank you. It was nothing near her normal voice, but the young Queen dipped her head down and apologized anyway – Please, Alabanth, send Yours to help Artoneth. I will be fine soon. It wasn’t true, and Crown shouted a ragged, “No!” A direct order to Alabanth as she made her way to the head of her dragon, although it wasn't supposed to be done and he probably wouldn't listen to her over an order of a gold. “There are other Healer’s, and Gaylen is the best. You need to be helped!”
The girl was trembling, taking too much of the pain off of her dragon than was safe – her head was aflame and her leg hurt so much, her hand bloody although Crown didn’t realize it. It was just Ezelth – that was all there was. MineOwn, you bleed. The comment was a hazy half in and out, and Crown nodded, tears streaming down her face as she fought to take the pain and keep it. “It’s just a scratch – I will be fine. Just let them take care of you, please.” From overhead a form blinked from between that Ezelth knew. Tirenth. She reached out to the Bronze, no longer a Queen. Now she was just a scared little Princess that needed people to comfort her, and His could help Her’s. He could make sure they stopped bleeding, right? The golden head let her eyes close, exhaustion and adrenaline combining together to let her drift in and out, detached from the pain now. It was too much anymore – she dropped out of any semblance of sanity and drifted on a cloud of darkness.
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Post by C'lyn on Jun 24, 2009 19:27:27 GMT -5
C'lyn was beginning to really feel the strain of the fight, his back stinging from the small score he had received, but it was easily enough ignored.
Mine. Ezelth has been badly scored. She and hers have returned to the weyr,[/color] Greylith informed her rider and C'lyn looked down toward the queens wing, frowning. He couldn't leave the Fall and he knew that Gaylen would be able to take care of things.
When the trailing edge was visible C'lyn breathed a sigh of relief, he could feel the strain Greylith was suffering in her wings.
He heard a dragon's shriek of pain and looked around quickly, trying to see who it was.
Artoneth has been badly injured and is unconscious back at the weyr![/color] the green informed her rider.
C'lyn swore loudly, he had to get back to the weyr and he would bear the consequences later. There were not that many trained dragonhealers and Gaylen would be busy with the young queen.
Take us to the weyr Greylith he ordered the green who was more then willing to apply. She reappeared low in the bowl, bugling her arrival as her feet touched the ground right beside the downed brown. C'lyn slide to the ground and tossed his helmet aside, yelling for antiseptic and bandages and water. He stripped of his riding jacket and grabbed the first basin of water to arrive, washing his hands and face, getting rid of the ash.
He moved to get a closer look at the brown's wing. He looked up at the Weyrleader and called for someone to help the man get down.
"How badly are you injured?" he called up to the man, turning his attention back to the brown's wing even as he listened for the man's answer.
He frowned as he looked the injury over carefully, waiting for the antiseptic to cleanse the wound with and numbweed to kill the pain for then the brown regained consciousness. He didn't like the look of the score, but he would do his best so that the dragon could fly again. He would need time before he could promise that to the Weyrleader.
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Post by B'kay on Jun 25, 2009 8:23:29 GMT -5
A wave of shock, following by exhaustion that almost led to tears, hit B'kay as he realized the Fall had ended. It had ended, and this time he'd actually seen the end....
"Return to the Weyr, Seablades! ANY AND ALL WHO HAVE HEALING SKILLS, report to the Healers! ANYONE EVEN REMOTELY INJURED report to the Healers as well! Tend yourselves, your dragons, and then help where you can with those who--"
He could not finish the words, simply echoed the emotions through Syth to his Wing, and went Between ... to home.
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Gaylen was awash with double relief -- first that Ezelth finally consented to being treated, and second that Alabanth relayed that the Fall was over, and C'lyn would be returning.
Thank the stars! After poor Artoneth's crash landing, with her hands full of numbweed and about to lathe it into the horrid wound on the young Golds limb, his skill was needed more than it had ever been!
When the Gold's rider gave Alabanth a direct order, he startled for a moment, and then saw her wisdom clearly. Bowing to Crown, he turned to Ezelth and gazed into her eyes. Greylith and Hers come, Artoneth will be in excellent care, he said softly.
"Claudia," Gaylen called again, half an eye on the large brown who lay unconscious nearby, praying for C'lyn and the other healers to get to Artoneth quickly, "Your hand, dear. Cover it in numbweed -- someone will bandage it for you for now -- we need you here." Of course, Crown would know this through to her soul, but Gaylen felt the need to keep a connection with the Junior Weyrwoman, to keep her own mind in touch with Ezelth's through her rider.
Alabanth leaned down, coming close to the much larger Gold, You do wonderfully, you are so very brave, dear Queen. And I apologize for being harsh -- I feared for you. He reached out ever so gently and nuzzled the side of her face, offering comfort, before lifting his head to scan the skies ....
There! The green dragon to whom he had, so long ago, given his heart, appeared. More help was here, all would be well.
Gaylen, sensing her dragon's thoughts, added, ...we hope.
Very gently, standing on a pedestal that had been dragged over by a drudge to be sure she could reach the entire wound, Gaylen spread a thin layer of numbweed into the injury. She was thankful that someone had thought to mix fellis with the numbweed, hoping it would help Ezelth to feel more calm as it absorbed into her system.
Once sure the Queen would be more comfortable, Gaylen probed the wound, while asking to have suture materials prepared. There was a large vessel, the source of the ichor, which would need a few stitches, but it appeared that this was the worst of the situation.
"I need to stitch a bit," she said, loud enough for Crown to follow her thoughts. Without hesitation she accepted the large needle and gut from the drudge who had prepared it, and within minutes, the main bleeding had been staunched.
Stepping back, now that life-supporting ichor was no longer pouring from the wound, Gaylen surveyed the extent of the injury.
"She'll be a long time healing," she said, stretching her neck to find the dragon's rider. "And for at least a sevenday, we'll have to keep that limb as immobile as possible."
As she talked, she took more numbweed, mixed with disinfectant to keep infection away, and gently covered the shallower areas of the wound. Large sheets of bandage, stiff and resilient but soft to the touch, were then applied and wrapped carefully. It took several assistants to tie the ends beneath the dragon's leg.
She caught Crown's gaze. "How's the hand, dear?"
[OOC: Let me know if you want any of this modified to better suit what you have in mind for Ezelth.... ]
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The moment the word was given to return to the Weyr, Ravyna sent Igrainth Between.
They emerged low over the Bowl, probably low enough to earn them a scolding, and very near where the healers were working.
"T'ryis!" she called out as she leapt from her green, searching for the young brown dragon. "T'ryis, where are you?"
There! Wickhath! She raced toward him, the shallow score on her own lower back burning like fire, praying that she would hear T'ryis' voice returning her call.
==========
C'train's legs crumpled under him as he slid from Robith's neck. The brown ached all over, and whimpered as he stretched. C'train slid the harness off him, rolled it neatly, and tucked it into a safe place out of the way.
"Go bathe, go rest, my Heart," he said softly, stroking his life-friend. He pressed his face to Rhobith's soft hide, even though it stank of firestone. "I'll come scrub you properly later. For now, I'll help the dragonhealers."
Rhobith lifted toward the lake, tightening his mental hold on his rider protectively, as the Beastmaster turned toward where noble Artoneth lay.
He limped, more than usual, across the Bowl and stopped before C'lyn.
"How can I help, Masterhealer?"
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Post by M'kel on Jun 25, 2009 13:57:09 GMT -5
M'kel had slipped from Tirenth's back and was running as soon as the bronze's toes brushed the Bowl floor. While they'd been spinning down for a landing, the bronze had quickly relayed the situation to his rider: Ezelth was refusing assistance. Although the bronzerider had been torn for a moment, knowing that their Weyrleader's dragon lay unconscious not far away, he was not a Healer. Getting through to a dragon and her rider was something he just might have a chance at, especially having been part of, in a way, their Impression.
Besides, he needed to know that Crown was all right.
As M'kel pounded across the stone floor of the Bowl, Tirenth rumbling behind, his bronze relayed the latest development in a rather surprised tone, Ezelth is asking for me...
"Well good!" M'kel breathed, looking sharply back over his shoulder. "Help her!"
But Tirenth was far from slow and already knew that. He reached out gently to the golden queen, stopping a short distance from her so as not to crowd her. I am here, Ezelth. You flew well today, and you protected yours! Mine and I are very proud. His eyes whirled yellow with concern, and he added more quietly, I will not leave you, if it helps.. The Queen was calm for now, but she might react badly to the rush of Healers. Now if only M'kel could intervene...
But again, M'kel was already acting without his dragon's urging. He skirted the gold dragon rather warily, not wanting her to mistake him for an assailant in her pain-blurred mind, and moved to her rider. "Crown!" he murmured, approaching her as carefully as he had her dragon. Knowing the girl, she was as likely to attack him like a feral feline as she was to welcome his arrival. "She's safe now, Crown. You both are." He looked to Gaylen, glad to see that the Healer had managed to start working on Ezelth's wound. The sight of all that ichor and torn flesh caused his stomach to wrench, but he turned quickly back to the goldrider, focusing on her instead.
"Your hand," he muttered suddenly, gaze drawn downward. A drudge was standing nearby, at the ready with some numbweed, and one of the younger Healers seemed to be tentatively trying to get at Crown's hand, but M'kel snatched the numbweed jar and dipped his fingers in himself. He took the girl's wrist gently to turn the hand, all the while flinching in anticipation of a blow, and reached out to gently apply the first of the numbweed.
((Like Gayze said, if you don't want M'kel to be able to grab Crown's wrist, adjust away in your post, and I'll modify mine!))
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Post by Tealah on Jun 25, 2009 15:21:09 GMT -5
Having finally been able to force his way out of the straps, P'neil was about to try to slide to the ground when he heard the dragonhealer's question. He tried to take stock of the pain in his chest. No blood, but even small breaths were sending pain shooting through him, and moving sent pain radiating from his chest. "Might have dislocated something," he grunted Dislocated? He'd dislocated his shoulder once, and that pain had nothing on this - he'd broken something for sure. Ribs, maybe? Or that middle bone. Ok, so he was no healer, that was for sure. "Nothing that can't wait until Artoneth's taken care of."
He slid awkwardly off Artoneth, catching himself against C'train's shoulder with a stifled hiss of pain and a quick apology. Now that he wasn't being jounced around, he was able to concentrate past the pain, and he had to swallow back tears and nausea when he looked at the injury on his dragon's wing. It was probably good that Artoneth had blacked out; P'neil couldn't guarantee the mercurial dragon would react any better than the young gold had, although she at least was allowing the healers to tend her now.
The Weyrleader cleared his throat quietly. "Tell me what to do, C'lyn."
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Post by C'lyn on Jun 25, 2009 18:02:11 GMT -5
C'lyn watched the Weyrleader and offered a small smile to the man, motioning for someone to bring him a chair and wine with a tiny amount of fellis. "For now P'neil I want you to sit and rest. You won't be any help if you black out from pain and Artoneth comes around and isn't able to reach you. Greylith is good at calming, but not that good. Sip that drink. There isn't much fellis in it, but there should be enough to take the edge off the pain until I can take a closer look at your chest," he said reassuringly.
He nodded to C'train, appreciating the Beastmaster's offer of help. He dipped his hands into the basin of red root cleaner, sanitizing his hands before beginning the hard task at hand. He carefully got onto the stool that was brought over to closer inspect the top side of the brown's wing.
"C'train, could you help put numbweed on the underside of Artoneth's wing? I need to begin stitching the damage up here," e said, even as he reached for a jar of the potent stuff and a paddle to smear the stuff on liberally.
Once the numbweed was in place her began stitching the leading edge of the wing, taking care to keep the stitches small and precise, stopping the ichor from flowing. The hard part was going to be the damage done to the spar mainsail. He winced as he straightened up, feeling a trickle of blood running down his back from the slight scoring he had gotten himself.
He shook his head and hopped down from the stool, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his face. "I need the thinnest sheets of hide we have!" he called out, moving under the brown's wing to get a close look at the underside of the spar mainsail. He looked toward P'neil and nodded to the man.
"I think I can make it so your Artoneth will be able to fly again, but its going to be a long recovery and he will need you to support him during the process," he said as saw the items he requested coming.
He inspected the sheets of hide, nodding to himself. He took out his knife and began cutting the sheets smaller. "Stitching these to the under side of his wing, we will be able to encourage new membrane to grow over it," he explained as he got the sheet cut into the shape that the wanted. He carefully sanitized it before beginning to place it carefully, having assistants hold it into place. He nodded to himself as he carefully stitched the thin hide into place, carefully resting the intact pieces of membrane on the hide, but not stitching them down, rather letting them rest on the hide so that growing could take place.
Once finished with that he stepped back and wiped sweat from his face, sagging with exhaustion. He turned his attention to the Weyrleader and knelt beside the man, gently feeling his chest and ribs. "I don't feel anything broken, but it feels like a few cracked ribs," he said, sitting back on his heels. "If you'll take your shirt off I'll wrap you're ribs. We just need to wait for your Artoneth to wake up now," he said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He looked over toward the young gold, looking for Gaylen. He wanted to go to her, but he needed to finish the task at hand and then help with the other injured.
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Post by B'kay on Jun 27, 2009 17:31:21 GMT -5
C'train supported P'neil gingerly, urging him to a sitting position, and nudging the cup indicated by C'lyn toward him. "I'll help the Healer, don't worry, Sir, and you can dictate anything you'd like me to do. Promise. C'lyn's a good man and we'll take care of Artoneth."
C'train quickly pulled on work gloves, so that his fingers would not go numb, and began slathering the fellis-laced numbweed where C'lyn had indicated. Artoneth's wing looked terrible ... and even though the Beastmaster had seen the worst in animal injuries, seeing something like this on a dragon ... a DRAGON....
His stomach turned, thinking of his beloved Rhobith. What if Thread should--
Stop, Mine! C'train was startled to hear his own brown's voice chastise him so forcefully. Thoughts like that do not help us, the Weyr, and certainly not Artoneth!
Rhobith was right -- as he often was. C'train swallowed his gorge and focused hard on the task at hand, sending love and gratitude to his dragon.
Once the wing was numb, however, the little man became far too fascinated by C'lyn's ingenious ministrations to think about anything else. He handled sheets, held them in place, and stood mesmerized in mind even while his hands worked continually to help.
C'train determined that, once this crisis was past, he would ask to assist the dragonhealers as often as he could. He'd medic'd many a beast in his day, but never had he seen anything as amazing as the rebuilding of a dragon's wing.
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Post by Tealah on Jun 29, 2009 21:56:26 GMT -5
P'neil wanted to argue with the healer - he shouldn't be lounging about drinking wine while Artoneth was still laying crumpled and unconscious - but the healer was right. Dazed as he was between his own pain and Artoneth's, the Weyrleader wouldn't be much good right now. So he grudgingly allowed C'train to help him into the chair and even took a sip of the wine offered him. Normally he wasn't big on drinking - the last time had not ended well - but a little bit to take the edge off wouldn't hurt.
When C'lyn told him that Artoneth might fly again, P'neil's breath whooshed out on a relieved sigh. A sigh that turned into a stream of muttered curses when the sigh caused his chest to twinge painfully. He watched with queasy fascination as C'lyn - with C'train's help - stitched the thin hides to Artoneth's wing. P'neil gave a mental shudder. He didn't think he'd ever be able to do that so matter-of-factly.
And then the dragonhealer had stepped away from Artoneth, apparently finished, and moved purposefully in P'nei's direction. The rider dutifully lifted his arms for the healer to have access to his ribs, though he had to stifle a pained twitch when a particularly painful spot was touched. As if that twitch were his cue, Artoneth's mind floated back up from darkness to touch P'neil's. P'neil winced, expecting at least a hint of panic or rage, but the brown was actually relatively calm.
I'm alive? The dragon's mind-voice evinced surprise and more than a hint of pride at that. I got us down safely, then. And my wing is numbed.
Yes, you did. And C'lyn has patched your wing up; he says you should be able to fly again when it's healed. At the healer's prompting, P'neil painfully pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on his knee, then lifted his arms again so his chest could be wrapped. I cracked some ribs when we fell, but I should be fine.
Oh good, Artoneth answered nonchelantly. Then I will be able to catch Gwynevith again when she rises next.
P'neil sent his brown - who still had not so much as opened his eyes - a sharp glance, both for the insinuation that he'd have to still be Weyrleader and for the nonchelance. Artoneth was taking this whole injury awefully well. He probably wouldn't take it so lightly once that numbweed wore off, though. "He's awake," he told the healer. "And he says his wing is numb. And he thanks you," he tacked on, though Artoneth had said nothing of the sort.
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Post by .K.aci on Jun 30, 2009 0:23:22 GMT -5
She needed Alabanth to back her up - and surprisingly he did. The dragon took her command cooly, the smart creature realizing why she had done so - and thinking about it meant that she had the ability to make it through the next few minutes, fighting with herself over the pain. Anything she could take off of Ezelth she did - this was all her fault, after all, that the great creature had been hurt this badly.
The Queen tried to focus on the words - Greylith and Hers come, Artoneth will be in excellent care. Generally she was good at remembering the names of the dragons, but it took her precious seconds to remember the older Green. He needs to be alright - Pern needs the strong Weyrleader. And then Alabanth's was talking to Her's, and she tried to focus on that.
'Claudia.' With a start the girl looked up at the leader - why did she keep calling her that? It didn't matter right now - she kept a hand on Ezelth, the other hanging next to her side and idly dripping blood down fragile fingertips. 'Your hand, dear. Cover it in numbweed -- someone will bandage it for you for now -- we need you here.' She nodded, but made no move to take the offerings from either young Healer - they bothed looked terrified of her. She knew that she must look a little crazy, strawberry blond hair mused from flight, eyes dulled in pain but glittering in anger of herself. She wasn't going anywhere or doing anything until Ezelth was taken care of - she meant nothing.
Ezelth, warmed through to the heart with Her's touch and letting Her's take a far bigger part of the pain away that she realized, calmed down with the words Alabanth spoke, accepting his caress with a gentle slightly ragged hum. But even through that, she was looking for something, a mind that was getting closer fast, that she needed as much as she wanted. Making sure that Her's was staying nearby - she knew that Her's was taking away more of the pain that she should, but the young Queen couldn't stop her - she let Tirenth's rumblling voice wash into her mind. I am here, Ezelth. You flew well today, and you protected yours! Mine and I are very proud. I will not leave you, if it helps.. She settled her head down and whined, very softly, like a young dog. Please, do not leave. But I did not fly well - Mine should never have been in danger. With fellis in her blood, she was able to relax a little more, and it faded numb blissfully... Ezelth sighed, trying to relax.
'I need to stitch a bit.' Crown hissed, flinching back as she saw the needle, and she almost argued - but she couldn't. Not with the Healer. Instead she just buried her face in her dragon's stomach and tried to calm the Queen, who could feel the pain through the numbweed as she quickly stiched her up. 'She'll be a long time healing.' Another strike right at the heart, although Gaylen wasn't meaning to be mean. 'And for at least a sevenday, we'll have to keep that limb as immobile as possible.' Keep her graceful quick moving dragon still? It would be almost impossible.
The woman was fixing her dragon, and Crown could only let her hand throb as the pain slowly receded on her Queen - no, she needed the pain! Thankfully, Ezelth was cut hard enough that it would be paining her a lot for the first sevenday - what could she do to keep her Queen calm, Faranth help her! Tirenth's. Ezelth had seen him, tightening up until she realized who he was, and the promptly ignoring him for the easier focus of a blade of grass. If she thought too much, it hurt. But it gave Crown enough warning to look up, trying to scrub tear stains from her face and searching around for M'kel - there he was, and she tensed up. He would yell at her, if no one else would. 'Crown.' Tear began to ooze down her face again, her own pain now and adrenaline gone south. He was getting closer, too close!
'She's safe now, Crown. You both are.' Safe. Safe? She would be alright, no! Gaylen said that she would be a long time to heal! And what if it scarred? Lunging forward, she balled her free hand in M'kel's shirt, the other tucked against the front and out of the way of people. "She's going to scar, isn't she? By Faranth, this is all my fault!" He hadn't seen all the ichor, felt the Thread eat away at her beautiful Gold's hide. Better her! 'Your hand.' It was a weird thing to say, and she blinked half crazed eyes at him. "What?" She looked with him - oops, there were a drudge and a young Healer trying to take care of her. She had seen them before - hadn't she sent them away? She couldn't remember... Something touched her wrist, ever so gently, and the girl flinched her gaze back down to see what was going on while trying to move her hand out of the way and not move the actual hand. He was holding numbweed - "No!" Her free hand reached out with a fist to try and catch him across the jaw, and then higher, all while she shook so badly she knew she probably barely nicked him.
"Leave it be!" Her voice was shrill as she tried to tug it away, making her Queen begin to stir and reach out to Her's, trying to figure out what was wrong. Mine?! What is it? The Queen tried to struggle to her feet, prepared to take the blow for Her's, but she couldn't move qucikly and only ended up thrashing her tail and a little of her leg and neck, whipping it back and forth as she struggled to help Her's. The girl was fighting back, struggling and weak from too many things, but still murmuring almost relgiously, a little widly, "I deserve it! I hurt her!" The Queen was drawing on Tirenth now, leaving heavily on him while she fought to understand Hers. Mine won't speak to me, what is wrong?! Why won't she let Your's help her?!
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Post by B'kay on Jun 30, 2009 11:39:38 GMT -5
Gaylen scowled, somewhat confused, as she continued to work on the Gold's leg. The main suturing was done, but she was receiving such an odd barrage of emotions ... picked up by Alabanth and filtered through to the bluerider from Ezelth ... that she was having trouble sorting out who was feeling what.
She was not sure why the young Queen Rider seemed to be more disoriented than she'd expected her to be -- and yet it appeared that the dragon's pain and the rider's had intermingled and caused both of them to almost disassociate. Gaylen was familiar enough with the syndrome to be most concerned.
She used the unusual situation to help herself concentrate, running thoughts through her mind as she worked on the meticulous task of making sure the nerves and vessels of this beautiful dragon's leg would heal up fully and normally.
M'kel was there, trying to help, and Tirenth. It seemed that Ezelth had focused on him. Gaylen was glad, and nodded briefly in thanks toward the bronzerider as she went back to securing the sutured vessels, seeking out any others which may be leaking too much ichor.
Crown ... Claudia ... needed all the help she could get to filter through the many sensations she must be experiencing. Gaylen had semi-consciously applied what she had heard to be the girl's given name, one rarely used, in an effort to keep her grounded. M'kel and Tirenth could accomplish that far better. Ungrounded emotions like this could--
And then Ezelth kicked out.
The gauze the healer had been using to staunch off a small bleed flew from her hand as Gaylen fell backward. The air rushed around her, flight without wings, and she knew the ground, which was her full height below the top of the pedestal she'd been perched upon, would come up hard.
But ... it didn't.
She found herself landing with a thump on something hard but smooth and somewhat yielding. Gasping for breath, the rider reached back to come into contact with the soft blue hide of Alabanth's foreface. Her legs straddled his nose above the muzzle, and her shoulders rested between his eyes.
Caught you, Mine.
So you did, my love. She sighed. He had always been there for her -- for as long, literally, as she could remember.
As the blue dragon lifted his rider back to the pedestal, Gaylen overheard Crown's admission of guilt to M'kel. "I hurt her--"
Was that it, then?
"Clau-- Crown," she called out softly, risking the possible rebuke she may receive from interfering. "Blame Thread, not yourself. Remember that Thread has always been the danger, and is why dragons even exist on Pern. Your lovely Ezelth will heal, she will be alright. She will heal faster, better, with your love and support, my dear. Be ... present ... for her. It's not your fault."
She tried to catch the girl's eyes, but the large form of the Gold was blocking her view. She could only hope Crown would be able to feel the sincerity in her voice, as she returned to the task of making sure Ezelth's healing was complete.
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