The End of the World? [Open. Healers and Rubberneckers Needed!]

Allendris was not medically trained, but he was well-read enough to know that a word like necrosis was not a welcome guest in such a situation as this, and even if he didn't then Talian's grim expression would surely be enough to supply him with a hunch that not all was well. Picking up on his bonded's unease, Vyaniorth crooned softly, a soothing sound for both his lifemate and for the girl whose hand he craned forward to nudge gently in response to her reassuring praise. He snuffled a little at the smell that invaded his nostrils at the increased proximity, but for the most part the little bronzeling quite valiantly ignored it. Had it been anyone else on the table, though, odds were high that there would be no convincing him to stay so close.

The glass-smith blinked in quiet shock when Talian unexpectedly thrust the bottle of tonic in his idle hands with mechanically-delivered his instructions. He opened his mouth to protest - perhaps Talian had mistaken him for healer-trained? - but the other man left just as suddenly as he'd come, heading immediately for his tools to begin the next procedure. Allendris was forced to conclude that there had been no mistake, and he really was expected to administer a medicine he'd never seen before to a terribly sick girl with only the vague information that 'it would help'... and furthermore he was surely expected not to screw it up.

The healer is not worried about that, so you can do it, Vyaniorth assured his chosen smoothly. He didn't understand the Allendris's hesitation; 'give three drops' seemed like fairly a simple and straight-forward set of instructions to him. In fact, if he had hands like humans had, he'd just take the bottle and do it himself! Of course Vyaniorth didn't understand the potential repercussions of a mis-administered medication, nor did he realize how hard it would be to place three drops of anything beneath the tongue of an uncooperative patient. Regardless, a wave of assurance from the dragonet sent Allendris on his way to Jada's side, with the bronze curling around his legs as he leaned over to look into her fevered, pain-filled eyes. Though he couldn't help but notice that the vision of heated amber beneath thick, half-mast lashes was truly beautiful, it was a sight he quickly decided he didn't care to see again.

Allendris could tell as the young woman's thrashing eased and her gaze grew increasingly unfocused that the fellis was beginning to take effect. That was his cue, apparently. He nodded his apologies to R'nd, whose massage he was interrupting when he moved a hand to brush a twisted lock of sweat-drenched hair from the burning forehead, thereby making sure he would have Jada's attention when he spoke. "Jada," he began, his voice gentle but without its usual shy softness. "I have some medicine for you, if you can swallow it for me then it will help your fever." The glass-smith had assumed that he would have to take on a tone of authority to convince the incoherent girl that she would need to accept the tonic... and hopefully she wouldn't bite him in revenge for the liberties he was taking when long and slender fingers then drifted down to her chin, gently coaxing the new goldrider's mouth to open before he could administer the dose.