Conspiracy of Silence [Talian]

Some days Jada wished she could just laze about in bed all day instead of having to worry about things. And some days didn't earn it until later, when the day had gone to pot and one thought that there was just no way it could get any worse. That was when one inevitably discovered that they were wrong- so very, very wrong, and wished that they had never jinxed themselves in the first place. This day was shaping up to be one of those days, Jada had realized early on, so she had taken every possible care she could to avoid such a fate. She really had. She had made sure that she sat in the shade at the brief Weyrling lesson, though it was quite awkward to be there without Krypth. She was getting used to it, however. She had made sure to grip her plate tightly when she ate, and avoided food that would have needed a knife. She'd done everything she could! Really!

Yet the evening saw her on her way to Healer Hall, in her nightclothes, holding her wrist gingerly. She'd made it through the day, indeed, only to be foiled as she strode across the Sands to join Krypth for the evening. It was a perfect example of how one could go from, "Really, Krypth, I can't believe it is already time to wash my entire wardrobe again. Do you have any idea how often I am having to change clothes with you on the Sands" to "Ah, Shaffit Sharding Wherrybrain Dimglow Star-Threaded- Ahhh!" Red-faced, Jada had scrambled to her feet, shaking out her ankles and checking her joints. They seemed to be working well enough... Her left wrist was a little numb, but her right was tingling nicely.

She went to sit down, using her numb left wrist instead of the tingling right, and was shocked by the pain that shot up her wrist, into her elbow, to her shoulder. Krypth had squalled in alarm, Jada had cursed, and two Weyrfolk had given her wide, shocked eyes. "Sorry." she called to them, and then to the dragon. "Hope your babies don't Hatch cursing." she'd muttered, and Krypth had snorted in amusement. Helping Jada back to her feet, the Gold had nudged her Rider to the edge of the Sands, with strict instructions to get that pain checked out.

Healer Hall had been quiet. Obediently, because Krypth seemed to have the impression that there was no one competent to Heal in the Weyr except Talian, Jada had requested to see the young Master. "He is gone for the night," she'd been told by a terse blonde, who had scowled at Jada's sand-coated skirt, and her slightly swollen wrist and said, "You can find him in his room, probably. Don't you bother him if he says you come back here. Goldrider or not, I won't have it." Jada had hurried to agree so that the harridan could turn her tongue on a patient who had wandered out of their room. "And who said you were done in there, Farlint?!"

It was after dark, and the lights that flickered through the Weyr cast eerie shadows. She was actually kind of relieved to make it to Weyrfolk Hall; being out without Krypth's protective bulk was strangely becoming unusual. Her hair, braided tightly to fall down her back, bumped against her as she moved, and the sound of her skirts seemed louder than the clamor of people in the dining hall. Where was it... Aha, here. She arrived at the door she had been advised was Talian's, and lifted her dominant, less-aching hand to knock.