Self-Medication [Open!]

Par'a's eyes were drawn to Kerrin as he stood, a frown touching her forehead. His shout reached her across the chaos and she nodded, turning back to Grith. Of course, Kerrin had grown up around Grith so much, he would know exactly how to get her out of the doorframes. She reached forward, her fingers trailing across Grith's deep green hide. As she began to draw patterns there absentmindedly, Tsuen poked her head out from beneath Grith. Jumping slightly she averted her eyes in shame.

"Hello Tsuen… I'm sorry about this… She, eh." Par'a apologised, sighing. Tsuen knew what Grith was like, she didn't need it explained again. She watched curiously as the Weyrwoman threaded the rope around her dragon, rubbing Grith's shoulder soothingly. No doubt having a rope wound around you would be a peculiar sensation, though whether Grith would even notice it… that was another situation altogether.

Hello Tsuen! Grith chirped once Par'a had finished speaking, wriggling back and forth excitedly. To her, it wasn't often that she got to interact with the Weyrwoman. At Nirinath's command she falls still, her tail and head drooping. Why do I have to stay still? She asked of the three near her, her voice sullen. Par'a reached down and gently rubbed her headknobs, murmuring soothingly to her. "It's to help you get out, so you don't hurt yourself." Standing up she moved and leaned over Grith to the outside where Tsuen had gone back out to. "Oh, Weyrwoman, Kerrin has gone to the kitchens. I think he went to get oil or butter, so when he gets back we can ease her out."

Kerrin returned in due time, delayed somewhat by the strain of carting along with him a suitably enormous - and therefore unspeakably heavy - bucket of oil. The kitchen staff had been quite confused when he'd asked for it, but as they were mostly Katilan natives, it took only a mention of Grith's name in conjunction with the dining hall doorways for them all to nod their heads in understanding and begin the group effort of pouring their cooled, leftover cooking oil into the vessel. Judging by the smell of it the poor green would probably stink of fried potatoes for days, but what had to be done had to be done.

However, Kerrin did hope Par'a wouldn't be asking him for help when it came time to lather it on the stuck dragon's hide. He didn't want to smell like fried potatoes.

He finally set the bucket down at the greenrider's feet with a melodramatic 'oof' - so that all present would know just how hard he had worked! - and paused a moment to mop at the sweat that had beaded on his forehead before he spoke with a wry grin in place. "Well, they didn't want to give up the fresh stuff obviously, so I'm afraid she's going to smell like a sevenday-old breakfast by the time this is done..."

The green fairly wilted under Nirinath's command. Tsuen felt badly for her, but, really, did she have to get herself stuck in the doorways? There were so many other places that the silly dragon could get caught in, that would be so much easier to get her out of. A few harder, too, she realized, thinking on it. Okay, so perhaps the Dining Hall doorway was a good place, if one's dragon had to get caught somewhere. Par'a seemed suitably apologetic for the situation even if Grith wasn't, so the Weyrwoman didn't muster up the energy to be angry. She just nodded at the rider, patted the green and went on.

Shortly after Par'a let her know that Kerrin had retreated to get oil, the weyrbrat returned, lugging a vat of stuff that stank even from outside. Nirinath, sensing Tsuen's malaise, bespoke Kerrin, her voice equal parts flattering and demanding. Kerrin, why don't you help Par'a? The quicker Grith is removed from the door, the quicker you can get out of the Dining Hall. And maybe when she's feeling better, Tsuen could show you a thing or two about sewing? Hiding behind her dragon's neck, Tsu pinched the bridge of her nose; leave it to the gold to make promises that she would have to keep.

Par'a smiled at Kerrin as he set the used oil down. "Ah, she always does. No matter!" She turned to Grith, giving her a gentle slap on the shoulder. Standing on the tip of her toes she peered over the Green again. "We'll apply the oil, then you pull and we can push, okay?" She suggested to Tsuen. Turning back she dragged the bucket closer to Grith, wincing at the grating sound it made on the floor. Glancing around she sighed, there didn't appear to be an easy way to get the oil onto Grith's sides. Peering at her clothes she shrugged, at least in her early rising from her slumber she had only thrown on some older, less treasured ones.

Unwrapping the thick sash around her waist she submerged it into the oil, cradling it as she pulled it out. Moving quickly she brought it over Grith, squeezing the oil off onto her hide and using the sash to try and push it down between the frame and her dragon. Looking back at Kerrin, she gestured to him that he should do the same, but on the other side. Repeating the motions a few times she paused to inspect the level of the oil. Pell? Grith ventured hesitantly. 'What's up?' It's hurting… Grith's eyes were slowly whirling a pale grey, her small, dainty head turned towards her rider.

Reaching out Par'a touched Grith's wing joint tenderly, it had only fully healed a week or so ago after she had sprained it during a playful flight. With the pressure the door frame was putting on it, Par'a could feel her shoulder aching faintly as a reflection of her dragon. "Tsuen, start pulling gently. Her wing joint that she sprained is aching, we need her out soon." She called over her Green. Grabbing the bucket she began to slop more oil onto her side, not caring if it dripped on the floor or her clothes anymore. Grith wriggled as she sensed her rider's urgency, not as wildly as she had earlier though, this time just slightly with her body.

Kerrin seemed to wilt just as visibly as Grith had when Nirinath bespoke him next, despite the rarity of the event and the little thrill of pride and mingled shock brought about by the regal mind-voice echoing in his head... for Katila's beloved golden queen was urging him to do just the thing he hadn't been wanting to do! Of course he wasn't a dragon to have to obey the queen unquestioningly, but the reluctant weyrbrat knew that only an idiot of his station would deny the honor of a request for help directly from Nirinath herself. Despite the opinions of many Katilan weyrfolk to the contrary, Kerrin did not consider himself an idiot.

And besides, the gold's offer was appealing enough - Tsuen was probably one of the best tailors in the entire weyr, and she never had time to help teach him!

"All right," Kerrin sighed, but for a long moment he could only watch with a slight twinge of horror crossing his pouting features as Par'a dipped her sash into the stinking oil and began applying it to the moping green dragon's hide. He swallowed, wondering which of the garments on his person he was willing to sacrifice to the cause... until he caught sight of Grith's eyes whirling grey with her pain. He couldn't feel her hurt in the same way Par'a could, nor did the little green bespeak him in order to convey her distress, but just the knowledge that the dragon ached and he could do something to relieve that pain was enough to spur the boy into action. Hastily he stripped off his outer jerkin, tossing it far enough aside that he was confident it would be safe from splashes. The inner shirt - the chosen sacrifice - soon followed, and it proved a quick and efficient tool for soaking up the oil and slopping it onto the stuck dragon's opposite side. The green's little wiggles helped to move the oil into the cracks between hide and doorframe as rider and still-slightly-sullen weyrbrat worked together to lubricate the wedged-in beast.

Tsuen watched carefully as the used grease slid sloppily down the deep green hide of Grith's shoulders and urped. She leaned forward, resting her forehead, which was newly beaded with sweat, against the shining golden hide. What was with this strange illness of hers!? Nirinath rumbled in agreement at Par'a's observation of Grith's pain; it was high time she was out. The gold kept a watchful eye on the proceedings since the oil was apparently going to make Tsu sick at her stomach, and as soon as she thought there was enough grease the butternut began to pull against the rope, shimmying slightly from side to side to aid in Grith's removal.

Finally the green began to budge, slowly and surely, till with a bit of a pop, she came unwedged from the frame of the doors. Nirinath dropped the rope and moved forward to nuzzle her. Are you alright? Has your wing been hurt further? Tsuen, however, made her way to the ground, her face paler than its normal Katilan tan. She avoided the grease bucket like it might bite her, but mustered a smile for Par'a. For Kerrin, she simply said, "I will let you know when I'm feeling better, and I can answer any questions you might have and maybe show you a few techniques as well." Surely the weyrbrat would see she didn't feel well.

As Nirinath began to tug on the rope Grith shifted just enough to help ease herself out. Her feet stretched out, talons scraping the dirt as she slowly began to sank downwards as well as backwards. With a pop she fell down, backing out away from the door and shaking her body thoroughly. Creeling softly she opened her wings, stretching them high and wide. Her wing joint ached faintly from the pressure, but it didn't feel like it had been terribly hurt from the event. It aches a bit. That's all. She craned her head around to face Tsuen and Nirinath. Thank you! She chirped happily to them both, touching her nose to the Weyrwoman's shoulder.

Walking into the now-empty doorway Par'a cleared her throat, jerking her thumb at Kerrin when Grith turned to face her. Ooh, you too little Rin! Her nickname for him was extremely fond, given how often they had spent time together as he grew up. Par'a smiled, walking over and patting her silly dragon.

"Thanks, to all three of you." Par'a said as she began to undo the rope that Tsuen had wound around Grith. "Hopefully we won't have a repeat of this again…" She said with half a laugh, keeping her eyes focused on Grith. No doubt it would take a good chunk of time to fix the doors and reattach them, time that could be better spent doing other tasks. 'Please don't do this again Grith…' She sent mentally with a sigh. I'm sorry Pell. Grith crooned. "Come on, we best be off." Par'a said, giving both Tsuen and Kerrin a wave, bowing her head to the Weyrwoman and her dragon.

"No problem," Kerrin answered both Par'a and Grith's words of gratitude with just a crackling hint of reservation in his voice, because truthfully he considered his ruined shirt very much a problem, and then the ditzy beast had to be reminded to thank him. The little green's well-timed use of her nickname for him was just enough to soothe his pride, however, and he smiled to see her free - both from the doorway and from the pain it had been causing her.

To the weyrwoman he nodded, noticing more due to her promise of seeing him when she 'felt better' and not really through any independent observational powers of his own that she really did not look well. Fortunately he was old enough by now to consider the goldrider's health of absolute paramount importance, like any other sensible Katilan... and besides it made him rather inexplicably happy to know that Tsuen considered him important enough to take a raincheck on. It was hard to feel down when he thought of it like that, and Kerrin hoped the brightness of his grin wasn't totally inappropriate given how awful he was sure Tsuen must have been feeling. "I'll look forward to it then," he answered, and in his good cheer he went to pick up the sloppy bucket of used oil without complaint or even a second thought for what a pain in the butt it was going to be to drag it all the way back to the kitchens. After all, Par'a was leaving and the weyrwoman looked as if she'd rather jump between than touch it, so who else was going to do it?

"I'll take care of the mess, then," he assured the two women with a parting wave, and a silent addition of or tell the kitchen staff to clean it up. Whatever worked, right? "Take care!" At that, he turned to lug what was left of the oil back to the kitchens.