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.

It is afternoon time at Fort Weyr and on a warm and humid day. Well it is warm and humid for Fort. There is the barest whisper of breeze and well the most exciting thing to come into the infirmary today is a bad case of Sunburn. The candidates are mostly here to act as orderlies and help with whatever they are told to. Mostly amounting to rolling bandages and making beds. They got a somewhat more interesting task today of helping with making up Numbweed ointments. Eirwyn is sitting at one of the stations with an apprentice showing her how to grind up the plants. Each of them wearing a double pair of gloves.

Numbweed /always/ has the potential for fun - and disaster. Fynnigan isn't enjoying the stink at all, though he's there, doing what he's supposed to be doing, without complaining at all. The lanky teen carries another basket of plants over to the station at which Eirwyn is working with the apprentice, setting it down where he's shown. He then picks out plants to join in with the grinding, once he's also slipped on gloves to protect the feeling in his hands. "H-hi, Eirwyn," he stammers shyly to the younger girl, giving her a warm smile. "Did you, um, get any on yourself yet?"

Eirwyn seems to be mostly enjoying herself. Coming from a fish hold has some advantages in dealing with smells. She looks up as she hears Fynnagin's question and grins, touching her nose at which her apprentice partner bats her hand down, "Stop doing that!" She explaims as Eirwyn looks crosseyed down at her nose and laughs, "It feels so weird, you have to try it." The Apprentice looks between them and glances over to the senior healers and back, "Oh just don't waste it and don't let them catch ya." She mutters as she goes back to the really serious business of trying not to join in candidate shanagins.

Grinning at Eirwyn and her antics, Fynnigan keeps on crushing the numbweed he's been given, blending it into a paste. "I've had it on me before," he chuckles, dipping his finger into the numbweed he's working on and reaching out to touch it gently to the girl's cheek. "I don't know if I like how it feels so much, but it's…. it's weird, isn't it?" There's a sideways glance at the apprentice looking over them, then the lanky Istan looks back down at his work, before sneaking a little look up at Eirwyn.

This was her first time in the Infirmary. Mostly she has ended up with chores of Nanny Duty, washing dragons. After her attempts at Laundry and Kitchen duties, no doubt the people in charge of those areas had her taken off their chore rosters. Yes there are a lot more pink shirts around the weyr and there was nearly as much peelings of Candidate as Tubers in the mashed tubers. Basic cleaning and cooking did not seem to be in her skill set though she did give it a good go. Eirwyn giggles as he strikes her cheek with the numbing cream. "Hey!" She declares which gets a look from one of the Journeyman. Eirwyn goes quickly back to work, head down until the man looks away. Once the 'coast is clear' she reaches over and dabs some on his nose. "There…" She declares in triumphant revenge.

Fynnigan allows the numbweed-on-nose - it's only fair retaliation after he's done the same to her! He chuckles, looking coyly down at their workspace as it works its magic to remove all feeling. "Ooh. Don't you find that it feels, um, cold? In a way? A bit cold?" After carefully slipping off his glove, he presses his fingers to the tip of his numbed nose, grinning at not being able to feel anything. "They had to put it on me when they, um, rescued us. I was all battered around the, er, ribs… here…" He wiggles his fingers across his chest. "And some on my forehead, too. I had a concussion."

"Cold and tingly at first, then just tingly." Eirwyn says with a wrinkle of her nose and rubbing the stuff on her cheek with the side of her glove. Which really just spreads it more. When he explains his experience with it she cants her head a bit, "What were you rescued from?" She can't help but ask, a bit more seriously giving his face a look over as if hunting down any scars. I had it a couple times growing up, mostly for skinned knees though."

"Oh, um… um… there was a storm. We were coming from Ista, a-all the way to… to Western, and the storm…" Fynn looks uncomfortable having to describe it, as if he wishes he hadn't brought it up. "But the riders came and helped us. They were… they were really good. I stayed at Western for a bit, until… well, Miki, she Searched me."

As he explains, Eirwyn nods sollemnly. "We get that at home sometimes. Its a fishing Hold and if the boat gets caught out…I have seen some of it brought back all broken. It is how Ma lost her first husband. Lost at sea, so you were pretty lucky to be found." Eirwyn responds in a quieter voice before she smiles at the last part, "Th'ero searched me…well his dragon did. I don't think he..I mean the weyrleader meant to. He had come down to Xanadu for something and I was working there and I offered him some Klah, cause well he is a Weyrleader and he was from Fort so he must have been cold and then he asked me." All that comes in a rush of words as she explains her own searching.

"There were some of the sailors that… weren't… they got lost." Fynnigan wrinkles his nose uncomfortably, then shrugs his shoulders. "I don't like the sea. I /hate/ the sea. It makes me feel sick just looking at it, and I won't go on another boat. Never. Fort's pretty nice because there's no /sea/ here - just land. Land is /good/." He listens to Eirwyn's search story, then smiles. "What's Xanadu like? Western reminds me of Ista, in a way. I was on the beach there sketching, when Miki got lost and then found me."

"Its not all bad, but I can see how you wouldn't like it anymore. My hold is near the dolphincraft, now swimming with them could maybe help you forget about disliking the sea so much. But yeah, she never let any of us ride on the boats. Apparently she did before she lost her husband, thats what my elder sister told me. She used to ride with her Da all the time, but not after then. I have only been on the riverboats up to Xanadu." As he asks about Xanadu Eirwyn gives a little smile, "Well its not at all like Fort. All the riders live on the ground in buildings and stuff and there is all this fancy technology everywhere. I don't even know what half of it does."

Fynnigan wrinkles his nose, scooping out the numbweed he's finished crushing to pick up some more. "My parents are both SeaCrafters. They live on a boat, but I get really seasick. They, um, left me with my grandparents at Ista Hold when I was about six, maybe? So they could go back to the sea. But that's ok, I don't mind that." He nods, driving the pestle down into the numbweed to squish it. "I don't know much about technology. Just simple stuff, really. I was with the Traders for a couple of turns, and we didn't really have too much."

As Fynn explains his own upbringing, Eirwyn actually smiles. "Like me and Abigail. We are rebels." Ok maybe that is a big word for it. "Both of us want to do stuff different from what are parents did and want for us. She is pretty cool." Eirwyn responds sounding a bit proud of the fact at least. "If it were up to Ma I would be at home doing dancing or etiquette or something equally boring." She wrinkles her nose, "Only got to spend some time working with the headwoman at Xanadu cause da convinced her it would be good to learn some administration stuff." She smiles as he speaks of being a trader, "That sounds like a bit of an adventure."

"I… um, kinda enjoy administration sorta stuff." Fynnigan admits it with a shy dip of his head, then smiles up at Eirwyn. "Like keeping inventory. I liked that. But I think I mostly just like to draw, and paint, too. And /listen/. You can hear so much more if you just listen… h-have you tried it, before?" He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, then rubs the back of his glove over the tip of his nose. "Still numb!"

Eirwyn wrinkles her nose, "I suppose I was ok at it, but would have rather been out riding and sword fighting with my brother. I can file and do figures blind folded, but I can't say I enjoy it." She explains before smiling as he mentions painting, "Maybe you can help Kimmila with her cast then. She said we can draw on her cast…well from the look of her when we asked, her dragon talked her into it, but we can hardly pass it up. Only good part to wearing a cast is getting it all prettied up."

"Riding is ok, but I've never held a sword." Something about Fynn's general demeanour suggests he's probably never held /any/ weapons, ever. "Who's Kimmila? I don't think I've met her. Why does she have a cast?" He cants his head curiously to the side, while adding more numbweed into his mortar. "There are so many people here. How do you get to know them all?"

"We were going to have some sword training until she broke herself." Eirwyn leans forward a bit as if telling a big secret. "We, Abigail and a couple others, were over at healer hall doing our craft excursion when Th'ero brought in Kimmila with a broken wrist. They way he acted with her, or rather tried not to act with her, I reckon they mates or something. He was all protective and they made lovey eyes at each other when they didn't think we were looking. Not sure why he would care to hide it, but well she broke the wrist while they were sword fighting so he reckons it is too dangerous for us to be trained with it now." All of that said in a rush of quietly spoken words.

"Oooh." Fynnigan's not sure whether to be relieved that there'll be no swordfighting, or disappointed - and the confusion shows on his sun-kissed features. "I-I… I don't think I'd be very good with a sword. Not really. I'd, um, probably hurt myself. Or someone else, maybe? I don't think I'd like to hurt anyone." He wrinkles his nose, pushing away the last of his numbweed. "What do you think it's like to Impress, Eirwyn?"

"I don't know…the way the riders look when they talk of their own impressions…it is certainly magical. Just ask one one them to talk about it and they get this dreamy look in their eyes like mothers do when they talk about the birth of their children." Eirwyn responds in a quiet voice, "Then I wonder if I want to share myself so completely like that."

Fynnigan drags over a couple of stools for them to sit on, then hops up to give his feet a rest. Besides, this conversation is turning serious, and serious requires a seat! "It's got to be quite, um, intense, right? You're sharing your mind, letting someone into your head and they'll know /all/ of your thoughts and /everything/… I-I, um, I think it's a bit scary. I'm… I'm still not sure if I'm right f-for this."

"Yeah, it is a bit scary…isn't that great? It is such an adventure! I hardly ever left the hold before and now I might impress a dragon and fly in the skies. I have gotten to visit places I have never seen before and If I impress I will be allowed to keep doing that. It is scary alright, but I reckon it is all worth it, even the hiding I am likely to get when I get home." Eirwyn says with a grin.

"Will your parents be terribly upset with you for coming here? Mine… well, they might know. I'm not sure, but I did send a firelizard to my grandparents. My mum's folks were all happy for me to be here - I think they said my great-aunt was a rider? I'm not sure. But dad's folks weren't so keen… they're in Ista though, so there's not much they can do about it." Fynn shrugs his shoulders drumming his ungloved fingers on the counter. "It is kind of like an adventure, isn't it? I've not done much adventuring."

"Oh they already are. I sorta didn't get their permission, but dad talked Ma into letting me see it out." Eirwyn says with a whispered tone, "If I manage to impress I hope they won't get too upset with the weyr, but well they let me stay." So its their fault. Yep. Teen logic. "Me neither, and when he asked, I certainly wasn't thinking about permissions, just…amazed I got asked and said yes without thinking."

"If anything, having a dragon will make it easier for you to go see them more often, right?" Fynnigan looks down at his fingers, then rubs his hands together and frowns. "I think I got some've that numbweed stuff on my hands," he mumbles - apparently he can't feel them any more. Pulling a face, he drops his hands down into his lap, then stands up, just as the journeyman's coming over to dismiss them. "Would you like to get something to eat with me, on the way back to the dorms?"

"I will have to use that …thanks." Eirwyn says with a grin about the visiting remark. "It is really hard to wash off. I was doing this before lunch and got some stuff on my hands and only started feeling my hands again by time I got back here to finish up." At the offer to grab a meal together, Eirwyn nods removing her gloves as she is dismissed. "I could eat a runner." With that she walks with him on out of the infirmary!

'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.