Who I'am, Kezresan
What I'am arrives with a dislocated shoulder. Kezresan attends him.
When Summer - Month 7 of Turn 2716
Where Central Infirmary, Fort Weyr


Fort Weyr - Central Infirmary
This room looks fairly similar to most other infirmaries, with it's faint scent of antiseptic and an eerie quiet that goes along with convalescence. Rows of cots line both walls, each separated by a privacy screen. Breaking the line of cots along the outside wall is a entrance to the dragonhealing section of the infirmary. The far end of the oval room is filled with metal cabinets that hold the tools of the Weyrhealers trade, as well as a desk from which the healer can supervise his domain. Upon one wall rests a thick 'chart' containing the information on all patients within the infirmary.

Well by now I'am is a rather regular feature of the infirmary. Mostly to visit Kravitz, to pick him up, or to drop him off. Then there are the minor injuries that come with being a search and rescue rider. This time though I'am arrives through the gateway from the dragon infirmary, being escorted by one of the dragonhealers. "This one is for you, we got Toska." Indeed I'am looks at least in a state. Some grazes and scratches down one side and an arm hanging, dislocated at the shoulder. The lad looks a fair bit paler than usual no doubt from the shock. "I am alright Toska…" He calls out to his dragon the room over though he is leaning on the supporting dragonhealer.

The nice thing about being a trained Journeyman is that there is no initial 'deer in headlights, OMG what do I do' moment between the sight of an injury, and the hop into action. Nope. There's just the hop. Kezresan was at the desk, musing over a chart or adding notes, when I'am is brought in by way of the dragon infirmary. He's out of his chair and moving that direction within seconds, studious healer face in place and already snapping fingers at an apprentice to go get him what he needs. "I got him," offered as he moves to trade places with the dragonhealer. "What happened?" is the next thing out of his mouth, directed toward the bluerider as he moves them both towards the nearest empty cot.

I'am winces at the exchange between him and the dragonhealer, "Check his wing on the right side…" He mutters to the dragonhealer before he settles into the cot he finds himself at carefully holding the dislocated arm to his chest. "We betweened into a wind storm." I'am gives as the simple explanation. Indeed there are varius bits of dirt and leaf matter in his damp hair. "Got tossed about and landed badly." He continues as he catches his breath from the pain. "Don't alert Kravitz…I don't want him fretting." And no doubt the dragonhealer was told not to alert his mother either.

"A wind storm?" asks Kezresan, though whether he's genuinely interested or just wanting to keep I'am talking is debatable. But he is listening, even as he moves about assessing the damage. The shoulder is an obvious one, the superficial scratches clear as well. But there are also fingers to ribs and neck, probing for things that might be hidden from his eyes. "How did you injure your arm?" Because coming into a windstorm didn't seem to explain it completely. As for Kravitz? "He's not here at the moment. We'll patch you up before he gets back." Whenever that might be. As an apprentice arrives with various items, Kezresan steps back to take a serious look at I'am. "I need to reset your arm. Do you want something for the pain?"

"Like…um…tornado…the air, went all topsy turvy and we had a bad landing." I'am says wincing as bits are prodded and poked at it. Pain and bruising, but doesn't seem to be any actual breaks. Just all the scrapes and dislocated shoulder. I'am closes his eyes against the pain of the examination but when pain relief is offered there is a moment's hesitation, a glance to the dragon infirmary and finally a nod. "Yeah, I don't want to upset Toska more than I have to.." Yep, just taking it for the dragon. For sure.

"Ah." For the tornado force winds the blue pair had the bad luck of coming into. As the assessment ends, Kezresan moves to the tray of items the apprentice has set up, selecting a small dropper from among those available. At the acceptance of pain relief (for the dragon's sake, of course), Kez moves back to I'am as he unscrews the lid. "Fellis," he explains, perhaps needlessly. "A couple drops will soothe the pain without knocking you out. Though you might feel… different." Like being drunk, or high. Or both. "Open," he instructs, meaning 'open your mouth' as it's quickly followed by, "Stick out your tongue," which is where those drops of juice are going. Then lid screwed back on and jar set aside. "Redwort," is commanded of an apprentice, who seems to understand this to mean something other than 'hand me redwort' for she launches right into soaking small cotton pads in the antisceptic. "She's going to clean up your face while I set this arm, OK?" because why not do two painful things at once? Admittedly, the arm will be the more painful, and Kez moves with just a bit more care (i.e. SLOWER) than necessary to allow some of that narcotic painkiller to start working. And then strong fingers wind around his arm. "Count of three." Only he's going to move on 'two' because anticipation is worse than the actual injury. So One, Two, and DONE, Kezresan pops that shoulder back into place with strong, swift, practiced movements.

The offer of Fellis gets a nod from I'am and he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue to accept them in a way familiar for the lad. Well he was particularly accident prone weyrling and some of them were actual injuries. There is a little nod to the instructions he is being given and a friendly smile for the apprentice. "It's alright, he can't fit through the door." An assurance for the pain he is about to cause. It is not long before the fellis does take affect and his face looks more relaxed and muscles losening up. Then the arm is being set, a yelp and several seconds after it is jerked into place I'am mutters three and lays back on the table. "I should be used to that trick by now…" He mutters in a slightly slurred voice.

A flicker of a smirk, just there at the corner of Kezresan's mouth, for the muttering. Slurred though it may be, it does serve to inform the healer that I'am is not about to take a turn for the worse. If he can be sarcastic and grumpy, that was a sign of healing, right? Sure. "We'll need to immobilize your arm, and you'll want to keep it in a sling for a few days." Or a week. Or more. "I'll do that," and a second later, Kez is taking over for the apprentice, dabbing and cleaning at the abrasions that he can see, scrutinizing them to ascertain just how bad (or mild) they really are. "Stay with me," murmured to the bluerider, eyeing him with speculation as he dab-dabs away at the cuts. The last thing he needs is a passed out dragonrider and a panicking dragon. Speaking of… "Where were you and Toskavath going when you ran into a tornado?" Curiosity, or just getting him to talk? Both, probably.

I'am closes his eyes and it might seem that he has drifted off but they flutter open at the comment about immobilization. "They won't like that…" He murmurs and closes his eyes again. The dabbing of his face gets little flinches though he doesn't pull away. "Don't you be enjoying this…" he mutters and gives a tired yawn, followed by another winced of a bruised jaw before growing quiet again as the rest of his scratches are cleaned. "Yeah…I am right here. Ain't going anywhere.." The question though gets a wrinkle of his nose, "Oh just somewhere…you know. We aren't supposed to tell anyone…" He murmurs again.

"Who won't like that?" Kezresan asks, somewhat apprehensive at that statement. Focused brown eyes to the face of the bluerider, though it's the wounds that have his attention. Every few dabs, the cloth he's using is tossed into a waste bin and a clean one is selected. He's gentle but diligent, looking for debris that might need to be extracted with more than the cloth-and-redwort currently happening. But as the wounds appear superficial and easily dealt with, he's soon turning to the numbweed salve on his tray of supplies. "Not supposed to talk about it?" Again, with that apprehension, this time a bit more stiff and accusatory. "Who's ordering you on secret missions?" If it's his Wingleader, then Kez is going to drop that topic like it's hot and forget he said anything at all. But if the answer is anything that could be misconstrued or assumed to be 'not legit'? Expect an inquisition.

"My teacher…hard to play one handed." I'am responds as he finally opens his eyes again and looks up at Kezresan, "My mother…because she is bound to find out shortly…and Kravitz and R'hro and Sephany. They don't like me in this wing.." The words are slurred a bit from the Fellis but clear enough to understand. There is a yawn and the eyes are closed again. Has he gone to sleep. "I am I'am…and he is Toskavath…this is what we do." He says more drowsily then before. "We keep good people safe from bad people. My friends don't like…I am not a kid anymore…not with Toska."

Kezresan is still doing his healer-thing. This time it's numbweed rather than redwort , carefully applied around the broken skin (and certainly not IN it) to sooth the sting and general pain. "A sling," murmured to the apprentice a hand, the girl hastening to acquire the item. He listens, attentive to his task but still comprehending what is being told. "Your teacher will have to deal with it, and be glad you still have a hand." Not that losing it was an option but. Eh. As for those friends? An eyebrow lifts, but his gaze stays on I'am's cheek as he finishes with the last of the salve. "They care for you," murmured in understanding, though perhaps it's understanding of the friends plight and not necessary the bluerider. "It's natural to worry about those we care for," said in a tone that conveys he knows what he's talking about. He worries about someone, at least enough to sympathize with those who fret over I'am. "You are not a child," he agrees. "But not being a child does not exempt you from being worried over." He's finished with the salve, wiping his fingers on a towel and screwing the lid back on the jar. "My mother has a dangerous job. She taught me…" but he fades off with a shrug, saying instead "She can take care of herself. That does not mean I do not worry about her."

There is a sigh of relief as the numbweed is smoothed over the scratches. "That is better…can you put some in my shoulder too?" He asks at the ache in his relocated shoulder. "I know they care…I..some still care for me like a child sometimes. We …" He pauses and tries to sit up and looks over to the dragonhealer's area with a wince to his own pain at moving and from the draconic sounds coming down the corridor, the pain of his lifemate. "One of the spars…I knew it." He winces and looks back to Kezresan, the pain of his lifemate seeming to have sobered him up a bit. "You all do dangerous things…illness and well Kravitz came home with a black eye from some patient once. Ma got a broken arm from a volatile dragon…but we do our duties…" He starts before sighing and nods, "And we worry.."

"Sure," and Kezresan dutifully unscrews that jar once again. "Bare your shoulder," because numbweed on fabric? Not as effective. While I'am is (supposedly, assumptions are being made here) taking care of that fabric, Kez turns to retrieve a glove. He has no wish to lose feeling in his hand, but slathering the salve over a large area requires more than just the tips of his fingers. "Will he be alright?" asked out of concern for Toskavath, the healer's gaze dropped once more to his work as he sets about smearing numbweed across I'am's shoulder. The mention of his own job? That gets a snort of dismissal, though it's certainly not meant to insult I'am or Kravitz, though he's quick to mutter, "My job is not dangerous," despite those aforementioned illnesses and unruly patients. "And you? You go off to save people. You have the potential to tangle with renegades," and there is disgust and a hint of a deeper anger for that particular group of people. "That is dangerous. Your family and friends will worry. And you will go and do your job regardless." Of that he is certain. Despite the somewhat playful nature evidenced in their previous meetings, Kez seems to have no doubt of the seriousness that the blue-pair have for their chosen career. Finished with the numbweed, he collects the sling and offers it I'am. "Put this over your head. We'll get your arm settled and then you can sleep." Assuming he's able to do so.

I'am nods and unbuttons his shirt one handed, an awkward enough task but he manages it. "It's hard enough of its just me or him, but when its both of us.." He explains as the numbweed is lathered on. "Yeah, I think so…he will go mad being grounded though." He says with a look over to the dragon infirmary. There is a nod at the mention of renegades. "Yeah, down at Rubicon it was a constant threat..we do what we can." He says in a low voice caught by the healer's words as well. "If it is not us, then who? This is what we are trained for.." Definately a more serious lad then he portrayed in the caverns. Despite his usual jovial nature he takes his job more than seriously. He takes the sling on over his head and lets the healer place his arm in it correctly, "Not in here…in there.. He won't settle tonight if we are apart." And no doubt the same may be said for the rider.

There are no more words from Kezresan, though the mention of just how prevalent those renegades are? That has his jaw tightening, his lips thinning into a line and a glance paid toward the bowl. He pulls off the glove, tossing it into the trash and screwing the jar back onto the salve. "It is what you trained for, and it is your life and your decision," he agrees. It's not a tone of derision, meant to chide or shame, but rather an acceptance and agreement that I'am was allowed to do as he saw fit, regardless of the opinions of others. There's a distant sort of look about him, distracted perhaps. But not so much so that he is not aware of his patient and the request being given him. "Alright. I can help you. Be careful standing, as your equilibrium may be off," since he's, you know, on fellis at the moment.

I'am is not so unaware to miss the anger at the mention of renegades, "Well I do what I do for you too." He says then carefully sits up and puts his feet over the edge of the bed lifting his good arm to Kezresan for the lift up. A drunk man in a non drunk mood. Well no doubt he had a bit of a scare tonight even if he won't truly admit it. About this time a woman enters from the dragon infirmary, bearing some marks of resemblence to I'am, "Oh Eiram…" She calls to him , motherly worry dismissing his new name from her mind, "I am alright, it looks worse than it is. How is Toska?" He asks to deflect her the best way you can with a dragonhealer. Eirwyn gives a questioning look to Kezresan instead to ensure I'am speaks the truth before she answers the question and coming to his other side to support him, "He will be alright, a minor spar is cracked and he will be grounded. Seriously you got to stay with all feet on the ground I'am.."

Kezresan slips beneath his arm, assisting I'am in standing and moving toward the infirmary. "You do," he agrees, "But it is you and your wing that bears the brunt of that danger." Danger that will no longer be spoken of at the arrival of a mother. Kez doesn't need to be told who she is; mothers all act the same when their babies are hurt. So he's mum on the ever-present threat of renegades and focuses once more on being a Healer. "Ma'am," offered politely. "He is, indeed, fine," he agrees, happy to play that 'patient-healer' confidentiality card to abstain from giving details. "It's best if we get him back to a bed," is offered as a suggestion that they keep moving, the healer at least moving in the direction of the dragon infirmary.

The reasurance of the healer does at least work to get the panicked look from Eirwyn's face and she nods, "Good..yes, of course. We have cots in the dragon infirmary." She says supporting with an arm around his waist from the bad side. "Once you get me settled, can you go get Kravitz and help him sort out a guest weyr down below.." Oh he is good. Yes he knows how to deal with his Mother and perhaps is weyrmate too. Give them Stuff to do. As finally they make their way to Weyr the large blue is rested and settled on the cot next to it, I'am offers his good hand to shake Kezresan, "Thank you for putting me back together, I owe you a drink." He gives a wink and lays back down on the cot, "Tomorrow.." Is murmurmed as he falls asleep, his mother left to tuck the blanket around him. "We will let you know if there are any issues." Eirwyn assures the healer.

Indeed, very clever dragonrider. Putting concerned people to tasks that are "helping" you so they don't fuss at you. Kezresan offers no comment, but there's a twitch to the corner of his mouth that JUST MIGHT say he's amused. A glance for the blue, respectful and curious (he's likely not seen Toskavath before, at least not up close) and then he's ensuring that I'am is settled before backing away. "It's my job," is the answer to that thanks. Which… might be rude but, well. He doesn't MEAN to be. "I appreciate it," offered to Eirwyn, along with a curt, "I'll stop in tomorrow to ensure he's doing well." And then, with a final nod of his head, he's heading back to the infirmary with swift, purposeful strides.

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