Who F'inn, Kassala, K'zre, Nymionth, Xerosaeth Yasminath
What Yasminath gets hurt!
When Summer - Month 7 of Turn 2718
Where Fort Weyr - Training Complex

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Fort Weyr - Training Complex
The remnants of a historic collapse are apparent here, as the slope face of the bowl has a predominant downward curvature. It's likely long ago, that a cavern larger than any Fort currently has was where the training complex currently is. A probable cave in triggered a fissure on the bowl wall which lead to a great chunk of it dislodging, thus creating the rounded slope.
Yet, many centuries later, all that remains to give evidence is the pocket made into the bowl wall. It seems that the inhabitants of Fort Weyr have made best of the created space. Rock on the ground proper has long since cleared, but pebbles and loose shale are constantly underfoot. Still, the sprig of some green leafed vegetation isn't too out of the ordinary in these parts, as long as it doesn't get trampled by the comings and goings.
It's clear that this area has been designated for the training of young minds, whether human or dragon. Surrounded by rock on all side, it's like a personal weyr bowl for the youngsters to minimize distraction and danger. The candidate barracks have been built across from the Weyrling barracks, so that one group can educate the next. Finally, placed in the centre of the two entrances of the opposing barracks, near the rock face, is a statue with a memorial plaque.

Nymionth's straps were done earlier in the day, the completed set draped over a table in the wake of M'icha's inspection. They passed. F'inn is relieved. Nymionth is determined that next time they will be even better. Fortunately, Nym's determination is stalled by oiling. And it is in the midst of this task that we find our heroes, now. Nymionth has helpfully stretched himself out as low as he can to the ground, his neck coiled round to encircle F'inn as he works at the tender spots where wing joins torso. It feels good. That it feels good is abundantly clear from the low thrum of pleasure rising from Nymionth. All in all it is a typical evening but for the fact that the oil F'inn is using smells ever so faintly of roses. "We'll cut a new set first thing tomorrow," F'inn promises in wry tones. "I want to try using the buckles to make them adjustable in size. Yes, I cleared it with M'icha," he adds with a snort.

Yasminath's straps are not done. They are not even close to being done. They *might* start to be looking strap-like, but they are in far too many pieces. Yasminath is not concerned. Mostly because K'zre is not concerned. There might be some sleepless nights ahead of him, while Yas stares at the moons and Kez furiously attempts to complete their straps, but for the moment? No worries. The young green has just finished a nap, which means that Kez has also just finished a nap, as evidenced by the slightly groggy thoughts from the green and the still-beary-eyed look to the weyrling. But Yas wants to be outside now, so outside they go! The haze of sleep evaporates upon spotting Nymionth, Yasminath suddenly wide away when she lifts her head to warble a greeting to the bronze. And Kez? He's rubbing at his face and then fussing with his hair as though he hopes to make it somehow presentable (lost cause, that). "I'm going, I'm going," he assures as the green turns to 'helpfully' shove her nose at his back to encourage forward motion. « Nymionth! I just had a nap. It was GLORIOUS! »

The /moment/ that Yasminath emerges from the barracks, Nymionth raises his head, a low, rose-scented croon of happiness washing over her. « And you look /beautiful/, princess! Bright eyed and happy. » In the wake of the compliments, he his neck coils around the other way until he is watching Yasminath rather then F'inn. "You look more on the bushy-tailed side," F'inn calls to K'zre with a lopsided smile. "Looks good on you." Sleep mussed? Definately a good look. "Evening, Yasminath," he adds in mellow tones. Letting Nymionth handle the compliments, his attention sweeps back to K'zre, his chin tipping toward the table with his straps on it. "There are meat pies and fresh veggies if you're hungry."

« I am! » Bright eyed and happy. Yasminath is not so proud of herself as to assume that she is beautiful, though she'll take the compliment with a flicker of shy delight. « It was a good nap. I dreamed of rabbits! » And Kez? He just scowls a little bit, as if he'd prefer to still be sleeping instead of walking around right now. So there's just a grump or some similar sort of sound issued for the comment on his own appearance, a drop of his hand as he gives up looking anything but exactly what he is: disheveled and only just awakened. And while he heads for the table, there's another little side-eye toward F'inn. "You got vegetables?" comes with a look that is part skeptical, part suspicious. Still, he's definitely going to be eating them.

F'inn exhales a wry snort at the question, pale blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Raw vegetables, even. You like those, right?" Personally, he prefers steamed, or braised, but he's new to the whole healthy eating thing. "There's a thermos of klah in there, as well," he assures before turning his attention back to the task at hand. Once he's certain that Nymionth is fine, he lightly pats the bronze's flank, sending him moving toward Yasminath without a hint of hesitation. « What did you do in your dream? Did they dance? Sing? Wear little dresses? » Curious and more then happy to indulge Yasminath, he exhales a low croon he does his level best to boop her nose. With Nymionth off wooing his maiden fair, F'inn hops up to sit on the table, hands coated with rose-scented oil dragging though his hair as he smiles at K'zre.

"I like /some/ vegetables raw," agrees K'zre, his attention shifting between the food and Yasminath. "But you don't." A frown. "Or you didn't," he amends with a longer look at F'inn. "Like vegetables," he clarifies before he's scrounging around to see what his options are. At the mention of Klah, his attention immediately shifts to seeking out that delicious, delicious stimulant in the hopes that it might wake him up. At least it occurs to him to add a quick, "Thank you," before he pilfers all of F'inn's provisions. « No, » laments Yasminath, who sighs wistfully at the thought of dancing bunnies in dresses. « I wish they did, tho. But no, » she continues, a glimmer of glee once more back in her mind as Nymionth meets her with a nose-bump. « They just hopped around cutely! Like this, » And yes, she is totally going to demonstrate bunny-hopping. A little wiggling and she bounds forward, hopping as well as a dragon can hop (which is remarkably well, actually…). Hop-hop-hop, until, on the third jump, she sort of… misses the landing, or the ground slides out from under her, or something invisible shoves her, and with a shriek of surprise that is both mental and vocal at the same time, she goes tumbling to the ground. « Eek! » And then « Ow! OWOWOWOWOW! » because that time? That time it hurt!

"I like them, now," F'inn admits with an easy shrug. Shifting his weight, he braces his arms atop his thighs, his brows furrowing mildly. "I have more energy now than I have ever had," he admits. "And I've put on a few pounds." Clearly, he had not expected either of those to happen. "I suppose I should say you were ri-" His words, however, trail off at the sudden wash of worry and pain from Nymionth, the intensity of the feelings leaving him reeling on the table for a moment. The moment that Yasminath shrieks and tumbles, Nymionth moves toward her, his eyes whirling yellow as he tries to figure out what happened, or what to do. « F'inn! Yasminath fell! » Dancing back from her, he minces forward again, a plaintive sound rising in his throat as he looks at K'zre and creels. A moment later, he's pulling himself together, calm enforced with an iron will. « Be still, Yasminath, » he commands. « Let K'zre see what is wrong. » Course, it's likely that K'zre is already making a beeline toward Yasminath and F'inn is sliding off the table to follow.

Oh yeah, Kez is definitely making a beeline toward Yasminath. He'd run, if he wasn't afraid that he might ALSO trip and fall. But he's definitely jogging at a quick clip, ignoring Nymionth because he can feel Yasminath's pain as well as hear it, and it's blinded him to everything but her right now. She is not shy about letting anything and everything with ears or telepathic abilities know that she hurts, though it comes more in pitiful little whimpers and almost hiccup-like sobs through her mindvoice, and the sharing of exactly what she's feeling. Which, right now? Is a little bit of pain in her 'wrist', and a whole lot of worry and fear over what it might mean that she's hurt herself. Kez reaches her about the same time that an assistant weyrlingmaster does, and they're both echoing Nymionth's encouragement to "Be still." « It hurts, » she whimpers in answer to Nymionth, though she does remain still as directed, one of her forearms clutched tightly to her chest because that is the wrist that hurts. And Kez? Kez knows human injuries. He doesn't know how to treat a dragon, and certainly is in NO position to be treating his own! He almost looks as upset as Yasminath feels, babying his own wrist for the sympathy pains he's getting from Yas.

« They will fix it » Nymionth assures in tones that he keeps absolutely calm. « Don't think about it. Tell me about the bunnies, » he encourages. Staying back out of the way, however, is the hardest thing he's had to do and he ends up pacing at a safe distance from Yasminath. With the weyrlingmaster there, F'inn stays near K'zre, hovering close enough to catch him should anything unfortunate like fainting or falling occur. For a moment, he starts to reach for his shoulder, but thinks better of it at the last moment and just continues hover nearby.

« The bunnies? » The bunnies might have been forgotten for the moment, though Yasminath will latch onto those calm tones coming from Nymionth. K'zre won't faint. But he might have a mild break down, and is having a rather difficult time not telling the weyrlingmaster "SHE HURTS!" because Yas? Yas has already got that part covered. At least the assistant is pretty quick about declaring that "She'll live. It's not that bad. But she should go to the infirmary just in case." This, at least, is something to DO. A moment later and Kez is issuing a rather plaintive, "How?" before he can catch himself, clear his throat, and try for something a little less pathetic sounding. "Yasminath? Can you walk on three legs?" This is of course asked by the assistant weyrlingmaster, with a pitiful little, « Maybe? » offered by Yasminath between whines, and a more frantic, "She can lean on Nymionth!" from Kez. Because the bronze is there. A wide-eyed look to F'inn, though it really didn't (and still doesn't) occur to K'zre to actually ask his permission before volunteering his dragon.

F'inn nods to the assistant Weyrlingmaster. "We'll get her there," he assures. In the wake of the words, he wraps an around K'zre's shoulder, his touch gentle. "Nymionth won't let her fall again," he promises. Given something to do, Nymionth immediately inches closer one massive, cloak-like wing stretching out toward Yasminath. « I have you, » he assures in a wash of roses. « Just go slow and lean on me. I won't let you fall, Yasminath. » He does not rush her, though, placing himself where she can use him to steady herself while ducking his head to help her stand. "He's got her," F'inn assures K'zre. "We're just going to go very, very slow. Tell her she's going to be alright…"

"She'll be fine," agrees the weyrlingmaster, who looks not at ALL worried over it. Maybe a little concern, but really? That guy's looking cool as a cucumber despite the frantic expression on K'zre's face and the whining of Yasminath. Probably because he can 'feel' that injury too (thanks to Yas projecting it to EVERYONE) and has decided it's not as bad as she's making it out to be. But Kez? This is entirely new territory for him, and he's definitely looking a bit panicky, and like he can't decide if he wants to throw himself at Yasminath and hug her or stay away for fear of further exacerbating the injury. The arm around his shoulders is a shock, and he very nearly jumps out of his skin at the contact. He heard him. He understood the words, but there's just a mute, shallow nod of his head in reply. His eyes are glued to Yasminath, who whuffes a sad little sound of gratitude as Nymionth comes to her assistance. Leaning against him, she clutches her left paw to her chest (because that's the one that hurts) and agrees, « I will go slow, » as they begin moving forward. And slow is right. Slow as sludge, which might just be too fast for Kez. "Careful, careful," he murmurs almost without realizing that he's speaking at all. A dart of eyes at the last, first to F'inn and then to Yasminath before he offers a much more reassuring, "You'll be alright," to Yasminath. "It'll be… fine." Because it will be. It HAS to be!

F'inn nods to the weyrlingmaster, following Nymionth's lead and forcing himself to remain utterly calm. He does, however, wait for K'zre's nod, one hand giving a gentle squeeze to his shoulder before guiding him to walk at Yasminth's other side. It's slow going, but slow is just fine and dandy with F'inn. "She's going to be fine," he assures in low, soothing tones. For his part, Nymionth is absolutely content to let Yasminath set the pace, one massive wing insinuating itself beneath her injured side to catch her just in case. « Go as slow as you need to, » he croons in reassuring tones. « I'll be right here the whole way. » It would take a direct order from Kayeth for him to do anything else.

Fort Weyr - Dragon Infirmary
This huge cavern of smooth stone arches upwards to a rounded ceiling, high enough for even the largest of Golds to fit comfortably. Along the walls of the cavern are many carved out and worn smooth couches for injured dragons to rest on, most with a cot alongside for the dragon's rider to sleep.
Tables line the other walls, movable so they can be taken to the dragon instead of making the dragon come to it. Bolts of cloth, thread, needles and cabinet after cabinet of remedies and equipment take up the rest of the space. Two huge double doors lead out to the Center Bowl.

The walk might be slow, but eventually they make it to the dragon infirmary. Someone might have warned of their coming, as there is at least one dragonhealer waiting for them as they come within sight of the cavern. Although given how Yasminath is projecting, a warning is likely unnecessary. The young green is leaning heavily into Nymionth. Probably more than is really necessary. But she's adamant about babying her injury even if it's not feeling so bad anymore. It still hurts of course. But maybe not as much as she initially thought it did. K'zre is looking a bit more himself now, too. Pale, wide-eyed and shooting worried looks at Yasminath as they walk, but less panic-stricken than he had initially. And he's found his voice, offering a firm (or as firm as he can manage right now), "I'm fine," to F'inn once they are passing through the shadow of the dragon infirmary's opening. And he is. Or he will be, once the dragonhealers assess Yasminath and declare her to be perfectly fine. Just a bad bruise and maybe a very, VERY mild strain. For the moment, they're hovering around her injury and asking Kez questions that he's having a hard time answering. "How did it happen," and "where does it hurt, exactly?" and "can she please extend the limb so they can get a better look?" That last one he is at least able to accommodate, but the rest? The rest is lost in his head. Maybe Kez isn't as 'fine' as he initially thought.

"Of course you are," F'inn notes in those same calm tones. For a moment, he keeps his arm right where it is, as intent on supporting K'zre as Nymionth is supporting Yasminath. The moment he realizes what he's doing, he lightly clears his throat and lets his arm drop, his gaze sweeping toward the dragons. Nymionth, for his part, is absolutely fine supporting Yasminath's weight, going so far as to encourage her to rest when she needs to. Fortunately, F'inn is paying attention and supplies the information that K'zre cannot. And with it clear that K'zre is not quite so fine, his hand returns to resting on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "She was hopping," he provides. "Like a bunny and lost her balance." Pausing a beat, he glances at Nymionth and gives a firm shake of his head. "It was not your fault." It takes a few moments of silent reassurance to convince the bronze before Nym is doing his level best to keep Yasminath calm and provide F'inn with the information he needs to know. « Extend your arm, princess so the healer can look at it, please. They won't hurt you, I promise. »

The weight of an arm, and then the lack of it, is dimly recognized by K'zre. He's doing his best to try and get back his own sense of calm, which seems to be a lot harder to do than he's used to. Yasminath is still doing that sad little whimpering thing, though it's greatly reduced from what it was. In the wake of the hand on his shoulder, the sound of F'inn's voice and the answers given, Kez seems to jump back into the present, offering a somewhat less helpful, "She tripped," in reference to the bunny hopping. "She's always tripping," is said a little more quietly, and a little more regretfully. Like maybe he could have prevented it. He absolutely does not blame Nymionth, but Kez is far too consumed by Yasminath to even recognize the conversation that might be happening between F'inn and bronze. At Nymionth's urging, and K'zre's quiet assurances that, "yes, it'll be alright. Let them look at it. They'll make it better…" Yasminath cautiously extends her wounded arm for prodding. Whenever a sore spot is hit, there's a little creel, but it really doesn't hurt that bad. It's not pleasant. It definitely HURTS, but it's not grievous, and doesn't really warrant the sort of whining that Yasminath is displaying. In a few words? She's crying for no reason.

Each little creel of dismay from Yasminath is met with a reassuring croon from Nymionth. « You're being very brave, Yasminath. It's good, K'zre is very worried for you and the calmer you are, the calmer he will be. » Lowering his head, he chuffs at her, surrounding her in a wash of rose-scented thoughts and oil. Watching the dragon healers, F'inn carefully smooths his hand over the breadth of K'zre's shoulders, murmuring reassurances as he listens to what's being said. "She's getting better," he assures both K'zre and the healers. "Just growing so fast and her limbs are long." At the creels from Yasminath, his arm momentarily tightens on K'zre's shoulder, the concern in blue eyes a palpable thing.

It should be noted that the dragonhealers have WAY BETTER bedside manners than K'zre does. They're all soothing smiles and comforting voices and gentle hands that poke and prod and assess Yasminath while she creels and whines. And in the end? "Seems to be no worse than a few bruises and maybe a mild strain. A little numbweed should help, and taking it easy for a few days." The relief is enough to send Kez staggering. Because while he can still feel all of that ache and pain from Yasminath, he still trusts the opinion of healers and is confident that what they say is truth. « I'll be fine? » because even though Nymionth, and Kez, and even F'inn and all the dragonhealers have been telling her *exactly* that, there's still a wiggle of worry in the back of Yasminath's mind. « But it hurts. It still hurts… » She's confused. If she's fine, why does it HURT still? This is, after all, the first time she's ever been hurt. The concept that it will fade? Foreign. But Kez is coming down from the fright, and the panic, and beginning to disassociate his own emotions from Yasminath's. "It'll hurt, but it will feel better," he assures, eyeing the dragonhealers briefly as they scurry off to go get that numbweed. A whuffle for Nymionth, and then Yas is pressing her head into K'zre's stomach to demand soothing eyeridge scritches. "It'll be alright," he murmurs, the tightness in his gaze lingering even as he tries to be a comfort. And while he might not /say/ anything, while he might act as though he has no awareness of that arm on his shoulders, it is a comfort nonetheless. Eventually he'll say thank you. Once he's more himself again.

Nymionth relaxes visibly in the wake of both the healer's words and Yasminath nuzzling at K'zre's stomach. « Before you know it K'zre will have you feeling right as rain, Yasminath. But you must still be careful while you heal. » Behind K'zre, F'inn turns a proud smile on Nymionth, his hand moving to lightly massage Kez's shoulders before drifting to rest at the small of his back. "A few days of relaxing is exactly what you need," he assures the both of them. "I'll even go get storybooks from the library for you, Yasminath." Cause really? That pained creel? Heartbreaking.

Now that she's been assured that she's not DYING (because Yasminath totally went there), there's a relieved sigh and a sudden dropping of her body onto the ground. She's careful of her injury, and careful not to squish any dragonhealers that might be nearby, but she's definitely done standing up. She's not done snuggling Nymionth, however, and wiggles herself up against him. Nor is she done with wanting attention from K'zre, who continues to stroke and scratch at her eyeridges and murmur things to her in a tone too quiet to go beyond them. The "Thank you," comes at the mention of storybooks, but is meant for far more than that. Even if Kez can't look at F'inn, the words are most assuredly directed toward him. "I… just. Thank you." When the dragonhealer's return with numbweed, Kez is quick to intercept them and take it for himself. Because now that he's feeling a bit less flighty, he's going to make sure HE is the one that cares for Yasminath. « I do feel a little better, » she admits timidly to the bronze. « It still hurts, though… » but not as much.

Nymionth drapes a wing across Yasminath's back, crooning to her reassuringly as he snuggles in. « You will feel all the way better after a little rest, » the bronze assures in soothing tones. « Once they put the medicine on the pain will go away. » And he is doing his level best not to be impatient for that to happen. "Anytime," F'inn assures in quiet tones. When K'zre moves away, F'inn steps over and leans against Nymionth's shoulder, every part of him beaming love and pride up at his lifemate. "Will she stay here tonight?" he asks the dragon healers curiously. "If she does," he assures to K'zre. "I'll come back with a change of clothes for you and some food and books." Course, he's well aware of the fact that it is unlikely that Nymionth is going to leave willingly. "Nym would like to stay with her, to. If that is alright with you."

"As a precaution, I suggest she does," agrees the dragonhealer. And of course, if the healer suggests it? Kez is going to be all about it. "We're staying." Especially since Yasminath has more or less made herself at home… right in the middle of the infirmary. "There are empty couches along the side. Pick whichever you'd like." Which, really, is the dragonhealer's polite way of saying get out of the way. Without saying it. Kez? Doesn't really get the message. But they'll relocate soon enough, regardless. "You're leaving?" In the midst of massaging numbweed into Yasminath's hide (to the green's utter delight, a croon issued for the ebbing of the lingering hurts), K'zre shoots a quick, almost startled look at F'inn. It passes, and a moment later there's a much more typical, "Of course. Right. Yes. That… would be nice," for the clothes. And the books. And the food. « Mmmmm, it does feel better! » notes Yasminath, sounding cautiously optimistic. « Yes! Nymionth, you should stay, » because this is a rather big, scary place. And while she loves, loves LOVES her K'zre and absolutely believes that he would never let anything happen to her? He's too tiny to really cuddle up and hide beneath anymore. "He can stay," agrees Kez. Because there's no way he could deny that to Yasminath.

F'inn tilts his head at the question, his lips twitching in a reassuring smile. "Just long enough to fetch a few things," he assures. Slanting a glance at the dragonhealer, he exhales a relieved breath when there is no arguement regarding his presence. « Of course we are staying, » Nymionth assures in those same soothing tones. « F'inn is just going to get them food and clothing… And bedding,» he points out with a pointed look at the rider couches. « And books. We'll read a story before you fall asleep tonight, princess. » Pushing off Nym's shoulder, he steps over and lightly squeezes K'zre's shoulder. "I'll be quick," he promises. "And I'll let the weyrlingmaster know what's going on. You and Yasminath relax as much as you can. Nym will help you get her to a cot." Cause he doesn't want to risk her trying to put weight on the numbed leg.

With Nymionth's help, it doesn't take long to get Yasminath out of the way and comfortably settled in one of the couches along the wall. The bronze gets a gentle nose-bump for his assistance, gratitude coloring the green's mindvoice and briefly overshadowing the lingering anxiety of having her first injury. Curled up in a wallow big enough to fit both her AND Nymionth, her 'wrist' numbed from the ointment dutifully massaged into it, Yasminath fights against a natural inclination towards dozing. It's been a long day despite afternoon naps, and Yas is still a baby. The urge to sleep is strong, and not helped by K'zre snuggling up as close as he can and soothing his hand over her eyeridges. She's too big for him to comfortably hold, and so the weyrling has taken to settling himself against the stone wall of the infirmary and cradling her head in his lap. He's lost the look of wide-eyed alarm, expression smoothed into something much more typical of him, though worry still pinches brows together.

F'inn is gone a bit longer then he had intended. Nym? He's stayed exactly put, moving only to settle Yasminath on a couch and settle in at the side opposite K'zre. There is wing draping. Enough that even K'zre is under the shelter of the bronze. There is crooning. The sound pitched low enough to be soothing to both Yasminath and her rider. It's clear that as far as Nymionth is concerned, in THIS instance, F'inn is completely and utterly on his own. And really? F'inn didn't expect anything less. But, F'inn is gone considerably longer then he had intended. When he returns, however, the reasons are many and entirely to clear. The first, and most obvious, is the MASSIVE (at least the size of a good sized toddler) pink stuffed bunny tucked under one arm. He'd seen it when he was putting things away in stores and remembered it was there, forgotten and unloved. KNOWING JUST the soul to love it with FOREVER love, he'd detoured to pick it up. Over his shoulder is a set of saddle bags with clothing for himself and K'zre, on the arm opposite the bunny, a basket of food. (There may, or may not, be a splash of rum in the bowls of stew. There is. Not enough to get drunk, but enough to calm down.) There's bread, cheese, raw veggies, fresh fruit and a pair of iced cupcakes. Resting on top of the basket? The Tale of Benjamin Bunny for storytime and a romance novel from the 'special' spot in the library. (It may, or may not have a cover boasting a blond bronze rider and dark hair, slightly surly green rider. >.> It does. It was purely subconcious, but there it is.) "Sorry, that took so long," he sighs as he steps back over to the trio and carefully tucks the BIG PINK BUNNY down by Yasminath's head. "I saw it turns ago and remembered when I went to get food. I hope you like it, Yasminath." Setting the basket down close to hand, he rolls his shoulders, draping the saddle bags over his lap as he drops into a perch on the edge of the wallow.

Does Kez even recognize that there is a bronze wing sheltering him and Yasminath? That the crooning is meant to soothe him, and not just his green? Likely not. But that does not mean it isn't working. K'zre has relaxed. As much as he is able to do so in their current situation. Comforted by the fact that Yasminath is feeling better and will make a full recovery. It is the young green that spots F'inn first. Or, rather, she spots that amazing, pink plushy he's toting. Sleepy eyes become briefly bright, animated in their whirling as she lifts her head only enough as is required to get a better look from beneath Nymionth's wing. « Ooh! » And it is love at first sight, bubbling out of her like a well and flooding the space around them. Kez? Not immune, though he's quick enough to stop himself from grinning like a besotted fool at a STUFFED ANIMAL. « Is that… is it for ME?! » The words are met with a croon as she snakes out her head to whuffle at her new bestest-best-friend. F'inn gets a greeting too, but really… compared to Giant Pink Bunny? He's small potatoes. « I love it! » "She loves it." It's an entirely unnecessary translation. "You brought… a lot more than just 'a few things'," he points out, eyeing the assortment with a small amount of skepticism. But K'zre can't keep the relief out of his expression for the appearance of FOOD, and clothes. And the book that is obviously meant for Yasminath. The "thank you," comes much later than it ought too, but is definitely heartfelt.

Nymionth could not be prouder, particularly given Yasminath's reaction to the bunny. F'inn? He's tickled pink. (Not as pink as the bunny, mind you, but he's definately fallen under the little green's spell.) "She's absolutely for you," he assures Yasminath. "She needs to be loved and some one to love and who better then our resident Moon Princess? She needs a name, though," he assures. In the wake of the preen he cannot resist, blue eyes slant a glance at K'zre, his chin tilting up in a nod. "Well, I mean, my clothes, your clothes, some bedding for the cots, just in case." Nymionth /had/ insisted. "Lots of food, a book for Yasminath and one for you once she's napping." Cause he's absolutely certain that there will be napping to be had. In the wake of the words, he stretches out his legs, leaning back on his arms to flash a lopsided smile at Nymionth. "He's not budging, so we're both here for the duration." He should probably apologize for that, but he's not gonna.

Yasminath cannot squeal like a teenaged girl. It is not physically within her abilities to do so. But that does not stop her from trying. Gleeful delight radiates from her, and it's only K'zre's quick reminder to, "Remain still," that keeps her from bounding to her feet. With the numbweed doing it's job, she's just about forgotten why she's here in the first place. But she stays put, remaining still other than to reach out and grab her bunny and bringing it close enough to cuddle. Which means Kez is now also cuddling a stuffed pink bunny. (He looks about as thrilled as you might expect). « Nymionth! What should I call her?? » Ahem. "Bedding for the cots…" The words are repeated as Kez casts a glance toward the nearby cot. A frown, and he asserts, "I'm staying down here," in the wallow with Yasminath. There is no way Kez is moving, and will likely just curl up smooshed against Yasminath's side when he does succumb to sleep. "But you can take that one," he offers. Because he has assumed that the bronze is not moving, and therefore F'inn is not moving either. The voicing of such is met with acceptance, as brown eyes go back to the green head in his lap. "She'll sleep soon," he agrees, because despite the burst of excitement that came with her new plushy, Yas is definitely headed towards groggy.

"Well, you have blankets," F'inn provides. "And light sheet in case you get to warm." Glancing at the cot, he shrugs and laughs, noting. "I'm fine here." Certainly won't be the first time he's curled up with Nymionth on stone. At the question, Nymionth considers, that massive bronze head sweeping down to nose at the bunny for a moment. « Hrm. Luna? Artemis? Serena?» Running through names, he whuffles at Yasminath's head, lightly bumping her before turning his head to nose bump F'inn. « You did good. » The compliment is met with a wry smile and an upward twitch of his brows cast toward the bronze. "Thank you." Looking back at K'zre, he tilts his head as he slips over to lean against Nymionth's foreleg. "Did the dragonhealers say anything more?"

« Luna! » Yasminath latches onto the name with glee, a brilliant flash of moonlight washing out the infirmary. It has K'zre blinking and squinting despite the light being entirely within his head. « Luna, » comes a bit softer, and Yas nudges at the bunny one last time before she sighs and settles, this time using the plushy as a pillow rather than Kez's lap. Which is fine by him (Yas has gotten a bit too big for such a thing to be comfortable for long). A little wiggling, flexing of ankles and feet as he attempts to regain feeling in the limbs. "For her to rest it, and they will check her again in the morning," which has Kez briefly chewing at his lip before he catches himself at it. A rough sound of protest and a stubborn frown before he rolls carefully to the side and seeks out that basket of food. Yas? Well on her way to snoozing, the second set of lids already dropping over slowly whirling facets. "Once the numbweed absorbed, she became a long calmer," he explains, sifting through the contents of the basket and pulling out a bowl of stew. "It helped," he notes, glancing briefly at the bronze and then F'inn, "having Nymionth here."

"I'm glad," F'inn admits with an easy smile. "I would not want to have tried to keep him back." Slanting a glance up the bronze, his expression softens, everything in him utterly and completely adoring. « Luna is a fine choice. » Nymionth's agreement is coupled with him coiling a wee bit tighter against Yasminath, the movement entirely protective in nature. "He.. He adores her," F'inn admits in quieter tones. It's the movement toward the food that has him pushing up, his weight shifting as he slips over to join K'zre for dinner. Nymionth? All about the cuddling and just fine and dandy with F'inn filling his belly. "How are you doing," he asks as he ducks his head to peek up at K'zre's face.

The coiling of Nymionth is met with a long look from K'zre. It is not disapproval, or jealousy, or even curiosity. It is simply a long study of the bronze in relation to Yasminath. "You've said that before," he replies, attention going back to the acquisition of stew, a bowl offered to F'inn when he joins him. "I'm not really sure what that means," he confesses, sitting cross legged on the stone with a spoon in one hand and the bowl in the other. As for him? A frown, and suddenly Kez is studying the lid of that container with an entirely too intense look, considering it's just a bowl of stew. A long pause, his expression changing very little, and it might appear that he has no intention of answering at all before he admits, "I don't know. I'm… conflicted. Relieved that she's alright. Shocked at how I behaved. Confused… I am a lot of things." The spoon gets tucked between his lips as he works the lid from the stew with both hands, shrugging for a thought that passes through his head. The spoon comes out, a breath is taken, but in the end whatever he might have said just… doesn't come.

"I don't think he's really sure what it means, either," F'inn admits. "I mean.. she's his cupcake." That's really the best way F'inn can express it at the moment. "Thanks," is uttered as he takes the offered bowl and tucks in with a spoon and a chunk of bread. "You," he notes in the wake of swallowing. "Behaved fine. Heck, I was a basket case and she's not my lifemate." Just dealing with the waves of empathy roiling off Nymionth had had him reeling. "But why confused," he asks curiously. When the aborted words are not spoken, he tilts his head, regarding K'zre for a long moment before fishing a chunk of cheese out of the basket. He's not going to force it, and really? Having time to think is important.

"Cupcake." The word apparently clears up nothing on K'zre's side, more confusion added to the mix before he decides it's just… not something he's going to dwell on right now. In a few months? When the babies aren't really babies anymore, and innocent affections become potentially not so innocent anymore? Then he will deal with it. His gaze lingers on Yasminath for a moment or two, distant. She's asleep now, happily lost to the world, and it leaves Kez free to think and speak without worry that it will upset her. "I did not behave fine," he argues. "I'm a Healer," as though it sums everything up, a huff of irritation delivered. "But I was…" a mess. "distraught. Incoherent." Actually, he was mute. "Not myself in the slightest," and it's somewhat awkward and almost embarrassing for him to recall it, now that Yasminath's emotions are not flooding him. "But I could… I could feel everything she was feeling. Physically. Emotionally… her pain and her panic and her fear. And I couldn't do anything about it." It is that fact that inspires such a tumultuous rush of conflicting emotions that Kez can't even comprehend them let alone articulate them. Confused? "Because I didn't know what to do. I've never… not known what to do." At least when it comes to healing. A glower. A sigh. And then Kez is shoving food into his mouth so that he doesn't have to speak anymore, glaring at the wall because reasons.

"The most important thing in your life was scared and hurt," F'inn points in quiet tones. "Even a healer is not immune to that kind of fear, K'zre." Pausing, he sets the stew down, reaching over to rest a firm hand on K'zre's shoulder. "I have absolutely no doubt that when you are needed to act, you will not hesitate. Deep down? You /know/ there are dragonhealers here to take care of these things." It's the last that has him flashing a wry smile. "You will know what to do if it happens around us again." He has absolutely faith in that. "We should all probably make a point to go over basic dragon first aide."

"I know that." Because he does. And there is a part of K'zre that understands that in the moment, he was overwhelmed and not exactly in his right mind. But it still frustrates him. A great many things frustrate him right now, but only a few of them are clear enough to be articulated. The rest are just a jumbled mess of emotions that Kez just can't seem to sort out and understand. So it's all just… irritation. Annoyance. Frustration. A little bit of fear and doubt and a whole lot of confusion. And that hand, on his shoulder? It does not bring clarity. But it does spark recollection. Another quick little inhale, the sort that typically precedes speech. But again it just… doesn't come. Which brings a glare. And a grump. And the shrug of his shoulders that means to rid him of that comforting contact because it's all just too much for him right now. Maybe a few more bites of that stew will help him settle a bit more. A clearing of his throat, and he agrees, "I think they will teach us some," in a lame attempt to continue the conversation.

By now, Nymionth has coiled himself around Yasminath, tucked nearly nose to tail, one cloak-like wing draped over her back, with just enough room for K'zre to wiggle in there when he's ready to. That being the case, Nymionth snoozes right along with Yasminath and her gigantic stuffed pink bunny. F'inn, on the other hand, is listening to Kez, the stew he had been eating set aside in favor of draping his arms acrossed his updrawn knees in the wake of the shrug. "I feel you," he assures. He can most assuredly feel the feelings, enough that makes talking to other people considerably easier then it had been in the past. There is something to be said for having an unnaturally empathic dragon. "Probably," he agrees in the wake of the last. Slanting a glance over at the dragons, his lips twitch in a smile, his own food left to sit untouched for the time being.

For the first time in a while, Xerosaeth and Kassala left the weyr for a trip to the Dragonhealer's school. The pair were gone most of the day, and upon return to the weyr, heard all about the injury to the poor green dragonet. There is a slight thump outside the infimary as the gold lands, a whoosh of air from the backstroke of her wings. Soon comes the sound of the booted steps of the redheaded Dragonhealing Jr. Weyrwoman heading inside. Kassala is pulling off her flight gloves and removing her cap from her head, pausing within to take a look about. Spying the pair of dragonets curled up asleep, she nods her head, likely speaking with her own lifemate, assuring her that Yasminath is sleeping, and seems to be fine. Of course, she will check in with the dragonhealer who took a look at the weyrling. Sheesh.. give her a moment already! Ahem.

K'zre is having a hard time dealing with… just about everything at the moment. A crash of sorts, coming in the wake of a rather traumatic event. That Yasminath is fine? That she suffered no more than a few bruises and a mildly strained 'wrist'? It does not diminish the memory of her fear and pain in the moment. Nor K'zre's panic at the thought that she might be seriously injured. And now he's dealing with a whole host of other things, not least of which is his own annoyance and frustration at being unable to figure out what he's feeling! It's a downward spiral, and liable to build to bursting if he doesn't get a handle on it. That F'inn is witness to it all doesn't help, but it does provide a rather strong motivation for him to get his shit together sooner rather than later. Never mind his previous behavior that the bronze-weyrling was ALSO witness to. So for a while, there is liable to just be sullen stew-eating from K'zre, though his eyes do manage to catch Kassala's entrance (hard to miss that red hair!). A bit of a start for that, and a quick dart of his gaze around the area before he settles once more.

F'inn is chill. There's been a lot of emotions, sure, but nothing he can't handle. For the moment, he's content to sit where he is, leaving K'zre to his own thoughts while taking a bit to process everything that happened himself. Nym is asleep. Yas is asleep. For the moment everything is relatively calm. It's the sound of bootsteps that brings his gaze sweeping toward Kassala, his lips twitching in a smile of welcome as he tosses her a salute. Sure, he's sitting. Sure, it's probably not as formal as it should be. But, hey, it's been an emotional day on all fronts.

Kassala doesn't immediately go towards the two weyrlings and their dragons. Nope, she checks in with the dragonhealer on duty, talking briefly with them to find out the details so she can get her own lifemate to hush. At least the gold is staying outside. For the most part. Okay, so there might be a peek of a head inside from Xerosaeth, eyes whirling with worry. They might not have been her own babies, but she keeps tabs on every clutch had at Fort. Only once the redhead finds out what's up, does she finally make her way to K'zre and F'inn, "Evening, Weyrlings." She doesn't seem to mind the fact that the salute is not as it should be. Not tonight. Crouching down, she looks from F'inn to K'zre, "You two okay?"

A good thing, considering K'zre has forgotten to salute entirely. He does push himself to his feet at Kassala's approach, a much more solemn expression plastered on his face. "Ma'am," comes with respect enough, and a glance is spared for that peeking golden head, a nod of his own offered to the queen. But he doesn't stand on ceremony long before he's dropping back to the stone floor with a sigh. Collecting his bowl once again, he doesn't immediately get back to eating it. The question gets a brief look of apprehension and a flash of his gaze toward F'inn before he's addressing Kassala with an honest, "I don't know." But what he does know? "Yasminath is alright. They said…" but she already knows what they said, so Kez lets the words fade off because he simply doesn't want to relive it.

F'inn remains seated, his arms returning to folding atop his updrawn knees as Kassala joins them. It's Kez' look that earns a reassuring smile before he looks back at Kassala and nods somberly. "Emotions are still a little high," he admits in quiet tones. "We're in the processing phase." Glancing back at Nymionth and Yasminath, his expression softens, his lips twitching at the giant pink bunny tucked under Yasminath's head. "They had Kez put numbweed on the injured arm and she fell asleep pretty quickly. I think most of it was hurt being an entirely new sensation for all of us." In the wake of the words, he drags a hand through spikey blond, making a mental note to ask to speak to Kassala later. While it's great that Nym is a walking, talking (telepathically), eventually flying empath? F'inn is going to need help getting a handle on that, himself. It was shocking feeling Yasminath's pain, Nymionth's concern and K'zre's panic all at the same time. In the wake of the thought, F'inn realizes he's actually exhausted and gives a rapid little shake of his head to clear it.

"She's fine, yes. You know the type of injury she has in one of us." Putting it into a perspective that K'zre would understand, if he hadn't already done that. "A day or so off of it, and she'll be right as rain." What /does/ that mean, anyway? Right as rain? Hrm. She moves then, only after K'zre takes a seat again, to do the same thing, moving from crouch to sitting on the floor, crossing legs. Looking from greenrider to bronze, she nods slowly, offering both a gentle smile, "It is a lot to take in.. the depth of their emotions. You thought you were getting a handle on them, then BAM.. something new. Scarier. " She dares then to reach out, to touch K'zre's hand, if allowed, and if so, offer a squeeze, "You just have to remember right now - Yasminath is fine. She'll be out and about by tomorrow evening, no doubt. " She actually laughs a little as she pulls her hand back, "Their emotions are.. wild.. crazy.. scary.. in ways you never could imagine before. As they grow, they'll learn to temper them to some degree, so you aren't blasted by them. Just as you will learn to temper your own, so they aren't blasted by yours. It's a two way sharing there.."

Relief. That is what comes when F'inn does the talking and Kez can just… not. Not talk. Not think (at least for a moment). Not worry. Just… not do anything but eat his stew and nod along with the words. Kassala's perspective has him nodding as well and, once he's swallowed, agreeing. "I know. She… well. I know." He does. But that doesn't make the initial shock of it all any less impactful. That stew though? It might be helping (*cough*). The squeeze of his hand comes, and for a moment Kez just stares at the place where they meet before he's moving right along. "I knew," he agrees, for those wild, crazy, scary emotions. "But I didn't… know." Book knowledge? Totally different from actual experience. "I thought… I don't know what I thought." Poor Kez. He doesn't know a lot of things tonight. "I don't mind most of the time. I like feeling what she feels, and hearing what she hears…" But that? That was… overwhelming. That rapid shake of a blond head gets the healer-weyrling's attention, and he frowns in a much more Kez-like way at F'inn for a moment. Studying. Scrutinizing.

"Nymionth feels /everything/ from everyone," F'inn murmurs in quiet tones. "Hugely and passes it right on to me." And, while it's been a little daunting and a little stressful, he has to admit that it's made things oddly easier. Noting K'zre's look, he offers a reassuring smile, a hint of humor shining in his eyes. He knows exactly what Kez is feeling, cause it's washing over him like the roll of the tides. "There is no way we could have possibly understood any of this until we experienced it," he admits in those same relaxed tones. "I always thought that dragonriders were being deliberately vague, but…" Clearly not. "I'm fine," he adds to Kez. "Just coming down from the high emotions. Eat." The last is added with a nod toward that stew.

Might there be some amusment to appear in Kassala's gaze as she listens to the pair talk? Maybe. For good reason! But to K'zre, she nods her head, looking to him, "You were terrified in that brief moment. You are not alone in that feeling. We've all been there at some point." Dragons get hurt. At least they don't have the danger of Threadfall. Again, there's the hint of laughter, and she finally murmurs, "Just wait till she starts glowing.." Proddiness. Isn't K'zre looking forwards to that now?!? Ahem. When F'inn urges K'zre to eat, she will do the same, "Choclate helps too." Speaking from experience.

Kez can only nod along. Not because he isn't interested in contributing, but because F'inn is doing a far better job of expressing his feelings than the healer-weyrling can. So K'zre eats his stew, glances between weyrling and weyrwoman, and offers his agreement in the bob of his head or quiet 'hm' between bites. "I am eating," which sounds a lot more like the normal Kez. But he's glad F'inn is fine. Because Kez is totally going to take that assertion as fact, whether it's true or not. Kassala's amusement is lost on him. Or, at least the meaning behind it is totally lost. "I was," he agrees, for being terrified. "I didn't… handle it well." He's going to beat himself up about that for a bit longer and then get over it. He's in the midst of a bite of stew when that hint of laughter comes. It brings brief confusion, before Kass is just… spilling the beans on what she finds so amusing. "Glowing?" Wait. Whut? He knows all about that, but connecting it to Yasminath? For a moment there is total confusion, furrowed brow and frowny face before it turns into shock and a very deer-in-headlights look. "No…" because yeah, it's just now dawning on him what THAT is probably going to feel like. And just like that, Kez is abandoning his food and making eyes at the door.

Oh boy, there come the emotions again and strongly enough that F'inn draws in a shallow breath and holds it a beat before releasing it. Really, he wants to say it will be fine. In the one hand, he knows it will be fine. He has absolutely no doubt that Nymionth will be right there to keep Yasminath safe and cherished. Course, saying that? Probably not the best idea in the world and he's going to keep it to himself. Instead, he offers, "That's a long way off. Certainly not something you need to be thinking about now." Cause he's doing enough thinking about it for /all/ of them. "There's chocolate cupcakes for you in the basket," he adds with a firm nod that way. Distraction. Coiled around Yasminath, Nym opens one eye, regarding F'inn without moving before tucking himself securely around Yasminath. He's got this. CLEARLY.

Green eyes take in both of the weyrlings, and their respective reactions to her little comment. "Yes, it will come. All in good time, yes, but…" And here her gaze turns to Yasminath's lifemate, "… until the Weyrlingmaster and his assitants bring up flights, you'll want to keep desire to a minimum." Okay, maybe the jr. weyrwoman is just trying to scare them in a different way? Surely, it'll give K'zre something else to think on and worry about rather than his lifemate's injury! Pushing up to her feet, Kassala motions to them to remain seated, "Have Nymionth call to Xerosaeth should you need me?" Seems she's preparing to head off. "Honestly, get some rest.. try not to worry about what you did or didn't do? She's fine, as are you." Covering a yawn that comes up unexpectedly, she shakes her head, "I'm bushed.."

Poor Kez. Logic used to rule his world, and now? Emotional overload. ALL THE TIME. Normally it's happy fun emotions, because Yasminath is a happy, fun dragon. But right now? It's all of those other ones. Like shock and dismay. Even the reassurance from both F'inn /and/ Kassala that right now he didn't need to worry about it is not enough to temper that storm. It's roiling right along and Kez is helpless to do anything about it. Except stuff his hand into that basket, yank out a cupcake, and promptly shove it in his face. ANYTHING to make it better. Chew-chew-chew. FREEZE. "Huh?" Desire? What? So lost. "I don't understand." At least he swallows before he says that. "I feel…" a lot of things. But desire isn't one of them right now. So he just frowns, snaps his mouth shut, and offers a curt nod of his head as the weyrwoman rises. A beat or two and he finally manages a polite enough, "Thank you, weyrwoman. Enjoy your evening," in a somewhat robotic manner.

"I will make sure to have Nymionth call if anything happens," he assures Kassala. The warning? He hears it, there is no doubt of that from the flicker of acknowledgement in pale eyes. But, he is behaving and fairly certain that K'zre is absolutely oblivious to any signal he might be inadvertantly throwing off. K'zre's reaction makes THAT abdunantly clear. A fact which inspires a wry smile from F'inn. Clearly, he's losing some of his mad, mad flirtation skills. "Take care, Kassala."

There's a single nod of Kassala's head given in response, though as that cupcake is brought out and stuffed into K'zre's mouth, there's a slight paling of Kassala's cheeks, a wrinkle of her nose. Swallowing and giving her head a shake, she heads on out back the way she came to meet up with her lifemate and go home.

K'zre is very, very confused. Brown eyes pass between weyrwoman and weyrling and, while he knows something has been communicated, he also is very aware of the fact that he didn't understand it. And that makes him somewhat… irritated. Feeling left out. Excluded. It is not a feeling that Kez is unfamiliar with. It happens quite often. And typically, he is perfectly fine with it or is at least better about hiding his discomfort. Right now? Well. There was stew with suspect additions, and baby dragons with wild emotions, and a helluva day that has left him physically and emotionally drained. Which leaves him ill prepared to swallow down that sense of disconnect and 'otherness' that plagues him in almost every social situation. A scowl, and he polishes off that cupcake with another two bites or so, licks his fingers clean and declares, "I'm going to sleep now," because he doesn't want to feel it, and he definitely doesn't want to talk about it. Any of it.

F'inn can feel it all and it kills him. Exhaling a breath, he opens his mouth to say something, to try to explain, but closes it again. There is a part of him that isn't sure K'zre isn't better off not knowing. But that feeling K'zre is experiencing? It's completely /wrong/ and F'inn just can't allow it to persist. Now, however, is not the time for such things and he knows that all to well. "Go ahead," he assures as he pulls a sheet and blanket out of the bags and passes them toward K'zre. "If she so much as stirs, I'll wake you up." Cause he has no intention of sleeping any time soon. He'll keep watch, even if the injury is minor and Yasminath will be fine. Still there is a moment when he opens his mouth to say something he oughtent before he lightly clears his throat and smiles. "Sleep well, Kez."

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