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[G] [P] 740.12.01 | Falling Apart - Printable Version

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740.12.01 | Falling Apart - N'lis - 01.Dec.19

Stupid. He was so stupid.

He knew better than to rush, knowing it would either lead to a mistake or an injury but he didn’t listen to reason, wanting to get through the task as quick as possible so he wouldn’t fall behind. So naturally that meant his luck lately continued to be bad and he not only ruined what he was making but ended up injured. How did he manage to score big on both outcomes of foolishly rushing?

Embarrassment and a touch of fear of what people would think left Quinvalis panicking as he thought about what would happen if R’nya and Rhaedalyn learned of his injuries if nothing else. R’nya trusted him with important tasks and even bounced ideas off of him—that would change if he learned the young man couldn’t handle multitasking anymore.

It really was his fault, though. His killer headache was back and left his mind wandering while oiling the riding straps Aradissicath wouldn’t need yet for a couple more months but Quinvalis appreciated the Weyrleadership letting him help out and practice such skills on their own gear. He’d lost track of the time until he smelled something burning and remembered the biscuits he said he’d make up for the rations for those going to Benden Weyr to continue cleaning.

Somewhere between pulling the tray from the fire and the counter, he had tripped and landed face down on the ground with a burned forearm and a throbbing ankle. He didn’t think the ankle was too badly off since he could put enough pressure on it to keep his balance as he hobbled down the halls but it was the same one that broke –or was it sprained? He still wasn’t sure what the difference was, just knew that it had hurt either way—at Bedith’s first Hatching last year which freaked him out. As for the burn, he held a damp rag to it, unsure of what else would help. Maybe some numbweed? He wasn’t a Healer, but he did know L’gan was one and he felt like the greenrider wouldn’t go running to R’nya about the injuries right away either.

As he knocked, Quinvalis started to worry that he was going to be asking a lot of the man and that perhaps he should have gone to the Healers’ office anyway but he was committed now and wouldn’t be able to limp away fast enough even if he wanted to. Still, maybe he should have sent word ahead asking if L’gan could see him so he wouldn’t be imposing too much.

Again, that point was moot, especially as the door opened and a woman appeared before him. Quinvalis quickly glanced at the nameplate to make sure he had the right weyr and noted that he did. Oh damn, he really was interrupting something! “I… um… I’m sorry. I… was looking for greenrider err Healer? Um, L’gan. But I can come back later or uh, not at all. Okay, bye.” He turned, face bright red from embarrassment because not only had he intruded on a likely private moment, the woman of course had to be pretty and his ability to speak had gone from fifty percent to maybe ten. He was just happy he hadn’t grunted and flailed as a form of communication. He wouldn’t put it past himself!


RE: 740.12.01 | Falling Apart - Sariel - 02.Dec.19

"L'gan's out for the moment. Please, stay. Is there something I can help with?" Sariel looked up and smiled, genuinely pleased. "I'm called Sariel. If it's to do with Healing, I've been working in the infirmary for ages. Candidate now, though." Her voice was soft and lilting as she rose to usher him in. If she could set something right, she would. But first, she braided her long hair away from her face and secured it with a lavender ribbon. Now, she was ready.

With a glance up and down, she caught sight of the blood and frowned before retrieving a healer's kit from a trunk. It had everything from neatly cut strips of linen for bandages to numbweed and fellis. Sariel gestured to one of the chairs.

"Best to sit and get yourself off that leg, mm?" she said. "You'll just make it worse as you go from one end to the other of the Weyr. Let's see if it needs stitches or just a wee bandage for its trouble." The limping suggested it was an issue if it was hampering movement and the look of him said she ought to give him the best of her attention. I wasn't at all unusual for folk to come and go and Sariel knew there were some that didn't fully trust a healer. That was alright, though. For all her studies, she was still just a candidate - one who had high hopes, honestly. She was sure the knowledge she'd gleaned from her Hall and infirmary days would lead to something decent.


RE: 740.12.01 | Falling Apart - N'lis - 03.Dec.19

The blush continued as Quinvalis allowed himself to be ushered inside and then fussed over. Both things were why he had hobbled to L'gan's weyr to begin with but he hadn't been expecting a pretty and petite woman to be looking after him. But she said she was also trained in the craft and he focused on that to help get himself under control. He was there for treatment and Sariel was able to provide it.

He nodded at the suggestion to get off his feet and plunked himself down in a chair, sighing in relief from getting off the ankle. "Thank you for helping, Sariel. Oh, I'm Quinvalis," he hastily added, realising he hadn't introduced himself when she had. The headache wasn't helping him much and he'd gone into awkward introvert mode as soon as the door opened so he was in quite the state at the moment.

"I re-injured the ankle I sprained at a Hatching last year," oh, look! He wasn't stuttering! Quinvalis mentally patted himself on the back for sounding vaguely normal but figured it was because he was staring at his hand holding the towel to his arm and focusing on his injuries and not Sariel. "Took over two months for that to heal. This isn't nearly as painful but I'm also not the Healer." He chuckled softly and then winced as he moved the towel accidentally causing it to brush against his tender skin.

"And I burnt my forearm on a tray fresh from the fire and I don't know how to treat that." Honestly, that really was surprising since he had spent years living and working in a tavern. But he didn't spend too much time making the food, being the one that did more of the cleaning or peeling vegetables.