Western Weyr - Suldith's Playhouse

This king sized weyr has plenty of space for humans and dragons alike. The floors have been worn smooth and mostly level while the walls remain more rough and uneven all in mottled shades of gray. The roomy dragon couch has been covered in a layer of padding and then furs.The arched opening from the ledge lets in light and when the tropical sun is at rest or hidden in the clouds baskets of glows chase away the darkness from their perches in sconce-like baskets around the weyr interior. A long bar provides a place to eat and is set with four tall barstools, set in front of a wall of cabinetry and a long counter for storage and simple meal preparation. A hewn firepit inhabits one wall and a plaid sofa and chair are set before it on a brick red rug, centered for conversation with a low coffee table and side tables. The living area is kept fairly neat.
The exception to the clean living area is the table in the living room. Zi'on apparently is using it as a work table for some sort of electronics project. It looks like it might be a computer monitor or some other viewing display. There are wires and nuts and bolts laying around, also a soldering gun and a voltmeter.
A smaller arch leads to a short hallway with a bedroom on one end and a washroom on the other. The bedroom is complete with a dresser, bedside tables and a large bed with a mirrored wardrobe reflecting light from glow baskets set around the room. It's very lived-in, there is clothing and random junk all over the place. The washroom is spacious and one corner is taken up by a deep tub and opposite that a shower large enough for at least two.


Yes, Zi'on has a boo-boo. More than a boo-boo actually. He's taken about a dozen stitches in his leg and sprained his ankle, which means he has to stay off it and he can't between. Which means he's mostly been wallowing in his weyr and keeping to himself. He's at least sent word by way of Suldith to Kiena, to tell her that he's fine and not to worry. And to go about her wing duties. Meanwhile he sits around and does paperwork and eats pastries all day. Though this means he's also gotten to do things he hasn't done in a while, and he's taken apart some sort of electronics on his front table. It's after dinner, but the bronzer hasn't gotten dressed all day, so he's sitting on the couch with his leg up on a chair opposite in naught but a pair of shorts. His legs is all bandaged up.

With so much taking up and eating away at what time he has, Th'ero forgoes a few duties and makes the time to visit Western Weyr once word reaches his ears of Zi'on's mishap and injury. Seems only fair, right? Since the other bronzerider visited him when he was injured (the first time), it would be almost insulting if he didn't visit now when Zi'on may be in need of some company (that isn't Kiena). Velokraeth likely speaks to Suldith before the pale bronze invades the ledge, landing just long enough to deposit his rider before taking wing again, unless there is room for both and the other bronze is willing to share his personal space. Th'ero however walks right on through, pausing only to call out a warning of his arrival, "Up for a visit, Zi'on?"

Zi'on certainly wouldn't expect Th'ero to visit, but he seems pleasantly surprised when he hears from the older bronzer. Zi'on would have come to see Th'ero the second injury, too, but he didn't know about it. At least not until after the fact. It is a good idea that he calls ahead, just on the off chance Kiena is at his weyr. The pair live in the king weyr now! So there is plenty of space for the two small bronzes. And Suldith doesn't mind the company at all. He knows Velokraeth well enough by now. "Sure. There's klah over there, and some cookies, too. You'll have to forgive me for not getting up. With the leg and all. My sister told me to "RICE it". Rest, ice, compress, elevate. So… you know. And I'd rather not be like this for any longer than I have to."

"I don't expect you to get up," Th'ero drawls, sounding both sarcastic and amused at once as he enters the weyr. "I can manage on my own." And he does, by simply taking the nearest vacant chair and settling himself into it. Zi'on should know he doesn't favor sweets and it would seem the Fortian Weyrleader isn't in the mood for klah either. Velokraeth has chosen to settle on the ledge then, enjoying Suldith's company as he's become familiar enough with the other bronze. Cozing up some greens will have to come later or perhaps he'll call some over. "So what happened? I'm afraid the details I overheard were rather… incomplete." Th'ero has begun to slip out of his riding jacket now too, turning to drape it over the back of his seat before turning back to face Zi'on. His bandaged leg is given a long look and then he frowns, "How long are you out then?"

Zi'on will be in for a surprise when he finds there's sixteen dragons packed into the couch in his weyr, two bronzes and half the weyr's worth of greens. Like sister like brother, it would seem. "I've got something stronger in the cupboard, if you'd prefer. There might be some beer in the fridge, too. I'm not supposed to have any though." He frowns a bit. "I slipped while I was rock climbing. Fell on this leg and sliced it open on the way down." There really aren't any other details. "Ziria said a couple of sevendays at least." He shrugs. "I guess it's sort of a vacation though, since I don't have to go to any meetings while I'm laid up."

That's what happens when one invites Velokraeth to a ledge and then provokes him into being social. What occasion doesn't call for a green or two (or four) to warm them while they discuss whatever it is they discuss? Maybe Suldith will luck out and the pale bronze with forego that detail since his rider is hurt and recovering. "Why not? Since when is a glass of fortified wine denied a healing patient? It's just your leg that was hurt, was it not?" Th'ero drawls while he peers curiously at Zi'on, almost suspiciously and maybe that's his way of being openly "concerned". "Mhm, perhaps I'll take up your offer on a beer later. Though I'd feel bad tempting you and drinking it plain in your view." At the brief details, the Fortian Weyrleader grimaces and flinches. "Shells and shards man, you're getting as bad as I am." He remarks dryly. Never mind that his injury was by accident. Th'ero keeps finding the pointy ends of other men's swords and daggers… quite the difference. "Sevendays? Ahh, that's a pity. Suppose it could be worse." He chuckles slightly then.

Varmiroth reaches out to the two bronzes on the ledge, requesting a space to land - and assuming they don't send him packing - he touches down on the edge of the stone, gripping the ledge tightly with his talons. Lowering his head, he lets his rider slide off and then with a darting glance to all the greens present, takes to wing again. Kimmila pushes back the hood of her riding jacket and tugs off her gloves, shoving them into her pocket. And she's even wearing her knot (for once!) "Hey," she says to the two Weyrleaders, casual as you please. "Heard you got hurt," she adds to Zi'on as she walks in, giving him a frowning look. Th'ero gets a warmer smile and a little nod. "There's beer?"

Suldith doesn't mind being social. Nor does he mind greens. It's just not usual company for him. Generally he'll wing over to curl up with Miraneith if he's looking for company. Zi'on laughs. "A glass of whiskey is a touch different than a glass of fortified wine. I don't generally drink that sort of wine. Unless Kiena forces it in me." He nods. "Yeah. That's what I fell on. Must've hit the ground on foot and then my knee bent and my leg scraped along the rock." Zi'on traces the place where he cut himself and makes a 'shhck' noise. He chuckles. "It won't bother me if you have a beer, Th'ero." That's not Zi'on's nature. "Heh, the only difference is that I'm masochistic?" Zi'on shrugs. "It'll only be bad once I start to get antsy, or get lonely being in here." Hopefully Varmiroth can find a spot to land. Zi'on motions to his elevated leg as Kimmila comes in. "In the ice box, maybe." There's maybe four or five bottles.

Velokraeth croons warmly to Varmiroth as he comes in to land and there would be space for the blue as, alas, the pale bronze hasn't antagonized Suldith yet by inviting his favorite greens over. It will likely just be the two bronzes warming the ledge! "I doubt Kiena has that much sense in her," Th'ero mutters and then smirks towards Zi'on, shrugging a bit for the other bronzerider's tastes. "A sip of whiskey cannot harm either. But I am no Healer, so I suppose you best follow what your… your sister, said?" Did he hear that part right? The Fortian Weyrleader only grimaces all the more for the reenactment as it is. Ouch. "Sharding lucky it wasn't your skull that hit those rocks. What were you doing anyhow, rock climbing? Drills?" Of course that is what Th'ero would assume. "For that I completely understand. I was chafing under restrictions when I was stranded to Xanadu within the first day," he drawls and it's likely not the best of help, really. But such is his way. Then Kimmila is entering and Th'ero looks a touch surprised but smiles back warmly all the same, "Kind of you to join us," he murmurs from where he sits in a chair more or less across from Zi'on.

Kimmila grabs herself a beer and wanders over to sit in another chair near the two bronzeriders. Glancing at Zi'on's leg, she gives a sympathetic wince. "Just for fun?" is her guess to the rock climbing as she opens the beer and takes a happy sip. "Saw Velokraeth so I thought I'd intrude."

Zi'on laughs. "Why's that? She forced some into me the other night. To help me sleep. I think she has trouble sleeping, your sister. She's always awake already when I get up." He shrugs. "I lost a lot of blood. Today was the first time in a few days I woke up… tented like usual. If you catch my drift. Yeah, half-sister. Ziria. She's a healer here. I was sort of.. terse with her. I'll have to bring her something nice." Zi'on laughs. "Yes, thank you Th'ero. I'm also glad it wasn't my skull. I like my brains on the inside." Zi'on raises a brow at Th'ero. "Drills? I don't generally participate in drills anymore. You do realize I'm weyrleader here still, right?" He laughs. "I suppose it was sort of like drills. Just for fun, to try and stay in shape, I guess." Zi'on looks over to Kimmila. "So I see."

"Kiena has always been a light sleeper. And we were both used to early schedules. That does not surprise me in the least," Th'ero drawls softly, leaning back in his chair and folding one leg over the other and resting his clasped hands in his lap. Overall, he seems wholly relaxed. "Ugh, yes. Unfortunately I do catch that. Thanks. Good to see your usual humor isn't affected either," he replies with a sarcastic tilt to his tone, but his vague and crooked smile takes off the edge. "As a Healer she is likely used to terse, I would think." Then he snorts sharply, shaking his head. "Just because you're Weyrleader doesn't mean you can't participate in drills…" Well, now doesn't he just feel odd? The bronzerider likely just admitted that he /does/ and thought it was perfectly normal. To Kimmila, Th'ero chuckles dryly, "I'm sorry I didn't have him speak to Varmiroth. Figured I'd check on Zi'on here, since I caught wind of the injury. And here I was expecting worse news… Only, now I find it was purely accidental." And then he glances back to Zi'on with a teasing smirk. "I should've known."

Kimmila laughs, giving Zi'on a crooked grin. "Morning stiffie?" Sipping her ale, she grins at Th'ero and shrugs, shaking her head. "You don't have to tell me where you are all the time, wingmate," she assures him. She didn't take it as a slight that he's here. "Ugh, drills." She does not approve of drills. Clearly, since she ditches so many of them. "Glad it was just an accident and not something more serious," she adds, lifting her beer in a small toast to the Western Weyrleader.

Zi'on nods. "So it seems. I don't think I help her any. I'm surprised she stays over here at all. I got her a nice bed for her weyr, in hopes that it might improve her schedule, but I don't think that helped either." He chuckles. "Yes, a morning stiffie, thanks Kimmila. It was actually a little scary the first morning I woke up like that. My sister failed to mention -that- part." He shrugs. "Maybe. I'm fairly certain I threatened her several times.' Zi'on tilts his head at Th'ero. "I suppose I could. Though I don't plan to lead my wingriders into battle any time soon. I might be a distraction, too. Suldith and I can practice on our own time, where we won't make a spectacle of ourselves." Zi'on nods to Kimmila. "Mm. Sorry to disappoint you that there wasn't more gossip, Th'ero. Were you thinking I'd caught the wrong end of your sister's new knife?" He laughs, but it could be true.

Th'ero closes his eyes for a half second and almost groans for Kimmila's comment, but for his part the Fortian Weyrleader does chuckle in amusement. See? He can lighten up and honestly he has begun to expect the conversation to drift like that, especially with Zi'on, "I'm sure she appreciated the gesture, but you and I both know she's a fickle thing. Best leave her to her own devices." He murmurs and then frowns slightly, "Well, I would hope not." Battle? The concept seems to almost disturb the bronzerider and he grimaces again, shaking his head. Then he snorts and grins vaguely, "I might have, since she's so easily provoked. But to be honest, I had perhaps thought you had run afoul of some of the… shady dealings that have been plaguing some of us." Rather a downer to the conversation but again, nothing new when being in Th'ero's company. "What's wrong with drills?" he asks, giving Kimmila a pointed look though it's hardly anywhere near serious. He knows full well of her opinion, so his tone is rather teasing.

Kimmila glances thoughtfully around Zi'on's weyr and then back to the bronzerider. She shrugs. "Sometimes a light sleeper is just a light sleeper. And ha, I can imagine that would be a bit startling." But she won't go into the female version of that sudden morning surprise. Ahh, puberty. She, too, frowns at the mention of battle and shakes her head. Glancing at Th'ero, she shrugs. "They're boring and mundane. And there are things I'd rather be doing with my time." Maybe not the best forum to be airing her grievences about drills and why she rarely goes, but…she's never been one to think of her audience. Then she winks at Th'ero and sips her beer.

Zi'on is sitting on the couch, with his leg up. He's not really dressed, only in a pair of shorts. Th'ero and Kimmila are sitting in the chairs opposite him, Kimmila nursing a beer, while the three of them discuss Zi'on's recent injury and other things. It's slightly after dinnertime. Zi'on chuckles to Th'ero. "You and I both know I can't do that." Leave Kiena to her own devices, that is. As much as Th'ero would probably like Zi'on leaving his sister alone. Of course then she might find someone worse to attach herself to, surely Zi'on was the lesser of the evil around? At least some evils. "I would, too. I can't imagine Suldith going out to fight Thread. I'd be glad he's as small as he is, then." Zi'on laughs. "I'd hope she'd not go that far. I'd have to really have made her angry. I haven't seen much of her lately though. Busy with the new wing and all. And her drills. Also she'll be back at the forge soon enough." He sighs. That means he'll have to fight for a slice of Kiena's time. "Honestly, I was thinking about asking her to move in with me. But I didn't think that'd be fair to her."

That wasn't quite what Th'ero had meant, but the Fortian Weyrleader takes Zi'on's reply positively all the same, nodding his head in agreement. "I know," he murmurs and he does. He doesn't want Kiena to run loose as they both know how bad that will likely turn out. And the Western Weyrleader should know by now that Th'ero has long since accepted him having a relationship with his sister. "We are lucky in that aspect, aren't we?" he agrees, smirking a little as he too likely pictures fighting Thread with Velokraeth. Not something he's too keen on but thankfully not a threat they will ever face. His biggest worries remain firmly bound to the planet and among the affairs and faults of men. "How would that not be fair?" Th'ero asks in a serious tone, giving Zi'on a long and questioning look. Glancing back to Kimmila then, Th'ero grins faintly and chuckles lowly. "Seems I'm the odd one out then, aren't I?" he drawls, catching that wink and almost returning it. Almost.

Kimmila shakes her head a bit, eying her beer bottle and swirling the liquid thoughtfully. "I wish Varmiroth and I could fly Thread," she finally says, an odd look to her eyes as she speaks those words. "I don't wish the hardships upon Pern, or the deaths or the scorings, but…I wish we could do it." She drains the rest of her beer and rises, going to get another one. Since Th'ero asks the question of fairness that she herself wanted to ask, the bluerider asks instead, "Do you think she'd say yes?" Something in her tone suggests that she herself doesn't think so. Then again, she hasn't moved in with Th'ero either. Or even to the same weyr.

Soft footfalls of someone making their way up to the weyr's entrance may or may not be heard by those inside as another approaches the Weyrleader's weyr. Hair half piled into a messy bun and clothes fresh but still wrinkled with recent unfolding, Ziria steps right up to the door and knocks. Knock. Knock. Pause. Knock. Her nervous hands smooth down her clothes and adjust the lone strap resting across her chest and ending in a rather large bag dangling off one hip. "Better not be off his crutches…" Comes the mumble from the teenager as she waits outside otherwise quietly.

Zi'on can't imagine Kiena being all that wild, really. But her clutchmates might take advantage of her, if she were on her own. Zi'on chuckles. "I suppose. It makes it easier for them to chase greens. Which is a blessing for some, a curse for others. Though Suldith doesn't do much chasing these days. It seems to come and go with him." The younger weyrleader shrugs. "She's a new rider and all. Still young. She should be free for a while longer. I've posed the idea to her, she never seemed all that excited." Zi'on sighs a bit, leaning back against the couch. "It would be nice if dragons were a bit more useful like they were back then. Would be easier to get the holders to pay their dues. But it'd be hard losing them from the weyr." When there's a knock on the door, Zi'on turns toward it. "Eh? Who now? It's open. I hope you don't expect a cripple to come to the door."

Th'ero turns his head to regard Kimmila with a long, incredulous look as if surprised by his weyrmate's choice. "Why? The risk? From what the records tell us, threadscore was painful if you were lucky in how you were scored." He points out in a low tone, frowning. The Fortian Weyrleader is sitting with his back leaning into his chair, all appearances saying he's relaxed when he's likely not. His jacket has been slung over the back of his seat and uncharacteristic to him, he is not drinking for once. "Did she actually understand what you were asking of her?" Th'ero asks and with an odd gentleness to his tone. Maybe he feels a touch bad that his sister may have unintentionally rejected him? If that is what happened. "Been having troubles with your tithes?" Now the Weyrleader does frown, thinking the worse for Zi'on's remarks. More might have been asked but then there's the knock and he falls silent, turning his gaze from the Western Weyrleader, over to Kimmila, to whom he suddenly reaches out to rest a hand against her arm or even her leg - a light touch and probably briefly lived. "I could get the door if you wish?" he murmurs to Zi'on, already lowering his bent leg in preparation to stand.

Kimmila glances to the door but she makes no effort to rise, just sipping her beer. "She strikes me as the type to want to keep her own space…" Are they still talking about Kiena? Or Kimmila, now? Green eyes flick to Th'ero and her expression is hard to read. "Because that's what dragons were made for. That's what we as riders were chosen for. To not do it seems…like a waste."

Ziria's closed fist raises up to the door in preparation to knock again and sure enough that's what she does even as her other hand is pushing it open in front of her at (or admittedly a few seconds before) Zi'on's words. "Knock knock, Zi'on. I thought we discussed this. Your new nickname is gimpy, not cripple. I'm going to change your.." Her slim form slips into the room and comes to a dead stop. The present company is taken in with a bit of slack jaw before she remembers to shut her yap and stop staring with a deer in the headlights look stuck on her face. She manages a polite smile and her hands grip the bag's strap. "Sorry. I didn't know you had company. Do you want me to come back later?"

"Yeah, and if you weren't lucky… well then it wasn't painful at all. Can't feel much of anything when you're dead. Though from what I've read, it killing you was probably better than being eaten alive by it." Zi'on says, frowning as well. "There might come a time when we need the dragons for something else. And they're handy for transporting good and people. Also for search and rescue types of things. It's hard to imagine life without them." Zi'on blinks. "I'm fairly certain she knows what a weyrmate is. I made sure to mention living together, too. I haven't officially asked or nothing, though. If that's what you're getting at. I don't want to ask until I know her answer is going to be the one I want." Plus there might be some hesitation from the bronzer as well. Was he ready to take another shot at being weyrmated? There's no need for anything to get the door, since Ziri is inviting herself in. "Ziri, shards, I could have been naked in here or worse. No, this isn't a business meeting, and something tells me at least Kimmila will enjoy watching me squirm as you change out my bandages. You didn't have to come out all this way, I could have hobbled to the infirmary." The bronzer sits up. "Th'ero, Kimmila, this is my half-sister, Ziria. The healer. Ziri, this is Th'ero, weyrleader at Fort and his weyrmate Kimmila."

Th'ero only makes a low and soft sound of agreement (or is it disagreement) to Kimmila's remark regarding his sister. He does speak up though for the rest, fixing his weyrmate with a narrowed look and frown, though while he sounds slightly annoyed he's also beyond surprised. "A waste? The riders of the past didn't go ahead with the plans to rid Pern of Thread just so we could lament on considering it a waste. We still have a purpose and one where we don't have to fear death or crippling injury fighting a mindless menace." He drawls, his tone a little cool. To Zi'on's comments, Th'ero wholeheartedly agrees, "Exactly. Not my idea of glory and it's not like we have lost all respect. Riders still have a purpose, it has simply changed." Shaking his head, he gives the Western Weyrleader an almost sympathetic smirk. "I'm sure she does, but unless you ask her directly she's liable to take it the wrong way or misunderstand. You know how us Irondell's are." As Ziria steps inside the weyr, Th'ero does rise to his feet but only so he can properly greet the Healer and not strain his neck by twisting around in his chair. "No apology needed, you aren't disrupting anything and neither will we get in the way of Zi'on's care." He murmurs, ever formal even when the situation doesn't really call for it. Awkward? You bet it is. Then Zi'on is introducing them and Th'ero inclines his head in a polite nod. "Well met," he adds before settling back into his chair.

Kimmila's head bobs in a silent 'hello' to the Healer, before her head turns to study Zi'on. The look she gives him is a mixture of hurt and amused. "Now, Zi'on, is that really what you think of me? I take no pleasure in your pain. Only in teasing you about it." She turns to look at Th'ero as the Fortian Weyrleader speaks, but in the end she can only shrug. Either she doesn't have the words to express what she means, or she doesn't wish to do so in this company. So she just takes another sip of beer. "Doesn't bother me," she says to Ziria with a little smile.

"I figured the potential blinding by naked brother would be worth making sure you haven't decided to destroy my hard work. How is the leg feeling now?" Ziria's chipper personality slides into concern but it returns when finally it seems she's welcome and not intruding. Her hands drop losely to her sides as she steps further into the room. "Don't worry about it. Just don't tell anyone else I'm making house calls after my shift. I have enough work to do." Kimmila and Th'ero both get a friendly smile of greeting, although the one she passes to Kimmila shares a hint of mirth. "Nice to meet you both and nice to know someone has been teasing him about it besides me." A healer's worries takes over a sister's awkward caution and her steps increase in pace to hurry to her task without breaking too much of the flow of previous conversation.

Zi'on shrugs a bit. "Maybe not a waste, but still. I haven't had any more trouble than normal with the tithes. Actually looking over some of the old ledgers, the weyr more or less keeps itself going these days. It's not so much tribute as payment for services and certain perks that come with having a weyr close by." There's a bit of a sigh about Kiena. "I suppose. She does have a habit of taking everything I say in the worst way possible. I know how she is, you don't seem to have any issue understanding me." He grunts a bit, then chuckles at Th'ero. Too formal. Zi'on rolls his eyes at Kimmila. "Seems the same for every girl I know. Why would you be different?" There's a shrug to his sister. "I dunno. Sore if I move it, numb the rest of the time. Also my uh.. morning stiffie's come back. So that's good, right?" He chuckles. "People don't expect to get the same treatment I do. I was going to surprise you with something nice. Since I know I was horrible to you the other day in the infirmary."

"Mhm, you do have some good points," Th'ero remarks quietly to Zi'on's mention of tithes and tributes. The Fortian Weyrleader doesn't concern himself overly so with how the Holds under his Weyr's coverage area tithe, so long as they do and at least with respect to the quality of the goods. "Sometimes. There are days when you used to baffle me to no end. I've just got wiser I suppose to your quirks." He drawls, smirking but teasing all the same and ignoring the Western Weyrleader's reaction to his formal greeting to Ziria. Th'ero watches silently for a moment as the Healer steps in to begin her work and pretends not to overhear what Zi'on shares with her. He gives Kimmila a side-glance then too, having noted her shrug and leaving the subject to drop abruptly and glancing away. Shifting a bit in his chair, he looks a little awkward now or at least uncomfortable. "Did you want company for this Zi'on or would you prefer us to step outside?" he asks the other bronzerider. It's a legit question! Not everyone likes an audience.

Kimmila laughs at Ziria, even as her nose is wrinkling from that mental image. Chuckling at Zi'on, she sips her beer and then glances to Th'ero, giving him a curious and awkward smile. Hi, what's up? Then back to Zi'on, but more curiously to his leg, and she even leans forward a little bit to see better. "Hey, Zi'on, does Western have farms?" she asks suddenly.

Ziria's own nose wrinkles with one half of a smirk forming on her lips. "Well. It means you're healing." And turning his sister as many shades of orange and red as her fair skin can show, but that's neither here nor there at the moment. Zippy little healer that she is, she kneels next to the chair and eyes up the bandage. "No. They expect better and faster. In fact, if I could possibly bring them breakfast in bed while I'm at it, that'd be just peachy." Ziri quips off as her hands reaches for the offending leg and bandages. "I like flowers. You weren't really all that bad though. You didn't call me any names. I've been threatened with far worse before." Her hands stop shy of his leg as the question from Th'ero is posed.

Zi'on laughs. "What sorts of days? I don't have any quirks. Shards." Zi'on actually has plenty of quirks. From pranks, to his haircut to his eating habits… Zi'on marches to the beat of his own drum for certain. Zi'on raises a brow at Th'ero. "What, can't take the sight of a little blood, Th'ero? You watched Rorn eating those chicken feet, this is far less horrifying." Zi'on nods to Kimmila's question. "Mm. Mostly citrus and fruit farms, though I've heard some of the islands have good soil for just about anything. Temperate climate, plenty of rain and all. Why do you ask?" Zi'on chuckles at Ziria. "I thought you were a healer. Don't want to hear the good news about my healing?" Zi'on shrugs. "I just want to not be in pain. I'll deal with the lying about. At least for now. Though you're free to make me breakfast if you'd like." He chuckles. Later on he might be breaking rules. "Flowers, then. I'll bring them to the infirmary, to embarrass you there, or at least make all the other healers jealous." Of course, once they realize they're from her brother they might change their tune. Zi'on will probably whine a bit as his wound is re-bandaged, then probably demand some fellis which will promptly put him to sleep.

Th'ero snorts sharply but doesn't argue with Zi'on on his mention of having no quirks. "I can handle the sight of blood and worse. I was asking more for /your/ comfort rather then my own. Wasn't sure if you wanted us here gawking at you while you have your bandages changed." Because the Fortian Weyrleader doesn't, just ask Kimmila how much it takes to get the bronzerider just to sit down in the same room with a Healer. Mention of the wherry feet earns a disgusted look though from Th'ero, memories he'd rather not remember. The bluerider's question on farms only earns a brief curious look but Th'ero doesn't interject or add to the conversation. There's a concerned frown when Zi'on mentions being in pain and once the bandages are changed and he's asking for fellis, Th'ero knows that now is the time to excuse himself. "Hopefully you'll recover quickly, though it seems you're in good hands," And there's a nod to Ziria and a faint smile. "Try not to get yourself into any more trouble. I'll drop by and visit again sometime soon, if I can." Not the greatest of farewells, but Th'ero has never really been good with these things. Lingering just long enough to give a parting nod and a half-wave to Zi'on, the Fortian Weyrleader excuses himself with just a brief pause to see if Kimmila follows before he's joining Velokraeth out on the ledge.

Kimmila pushes to her feet as well, because it's weird to just be hanging out in someone's weyr while they're sleeping. She gives Ziria a brief smile before she's following Th'ero out without much more of a goodbye, walking to Varmiroth's side. "Um," she says to Th'ero, giving him a little glance. "Want to come over?" It sounds so lame, so awkward…

Ziria's work is done when the Weyrleader slips off to sleepy-land. Her bag has ended up spread about her in a haphazard fashion as bandages were changed, banter was said and stitches were fussed over. A few moments later everything is gathered up, dropped into the bag and the healer is waving to the reteating backs of both riders. "Not get himself into any more trouble? Who is he kidding?" Yes, healers mutter to themselves all the time. Call it a job related illness and Ziri is very affected. Checking over the sleeping bronzerider one more time, she picks up her bag and is off herself for who knows what adventures (or sleep) is awaiting her.


'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.