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's just another do for the healers in the infirmary. Only today, they have far too many patients, far too little space, and are running low on sleep. Okay, so it's not like every other day. This is another horrible day, dealing with the overflow of refugees and the Weyr's own wounded from the Gold Hill conflict. Vistors are welcome, but for Faranth's sake, stay out of the way. The healers are stumbling on their own feet as it is.

In a cot wedged deep into a corner of the infirmary lies a young Weyr guard. His color has improved and he's even lucid, talking to the unconscious patient next to him. It gets rather boring being cooped up all day. If one were to ask on his behavior, the healers would scoff and say something like, "That one? More trouble than he's worth. Can't wait to release him." However, right now Yurolt seems to be behaving himself.

Abigail has been helping out some in the infirmary off an on all day, though for now she is here to visit someone it seems. She carries with her a small box with a few goodies within it while a glance is sent around the area curiously. She shifts back a few steps and chews on her lip before she conitnues onwards, the talk is heard from the healers and she glances towards whom they are speaking about. Catching sight of Yurolt she smiles and moves on towards where he is. "Hey." She offers while tilting her head to peer at him curiously. "Ye look better at least. How ye feeling?"

Yurolt glances toward the unconscious fellow next to him, a cocked eyebrow on the guard's face. That man's been asleep all day, surely he's not talking now. It's then that Yurolt sees who actually spoke. A sheepish smile crosses his face, hopefully Abigail didn't see his moment just then. "I've been better." He straitens himself up in his rack and pats a stool set next to him, most likely for visitors. Then he shouts, more to towards the head healer than anyone else, "OF course I'd be better if I could get out of HERE!" Ah, there's that attitude the healers just 'love'.

Abigail tilts her head while she shifts to settle upon the stool, she chuckles softly. "Aye I know how that is. I'd always try to escape whenever I was laid up." She winks at him playful like before offering him the box. "Brought ye something to help perhaps make ye feel a bit better." Within the box is a handful of cookies, a bubblie or two and some cake bits.

Greedily snatching the box up, Yurolt stuffs a few cookies down his throat, whole. Now choking slightly he sputters, "How'd you get these past him?" Again directed at the head healer. The guard now thumbs toward a half eaten tray of food by his rack. "Have you seen the stuff they're calling food here? I know the kitchen cooks better than that." Something about hospital food, even at it's best it's terrible. Nodding a grateful thanks to Abigail, he hides the rest of the box under his pillow. They'll never think to look there. Only they will, and he'll have to fight them to death for his snackie cakes.

Abigail blinks and chuckles before pointing to her knot. "It helps to be a sort of rider to some degree. Plus I helped out a fair bit when the wounded so I suppose I was given a half look over if any at all." She nods while crossing a leg, her arms folding upon itwhile she leans slightly. "I know it isn't the best around, but better then chewing on hard bread and weak watered down tea or osmething to the like." She pauses while watching him curiously. "So how ye be feeling?"

Yurolt chuckles at Abi's mention of what healers call food. He nods vigorously, "How do they expect us to get well, eating so poorly!" Again, hope the head healer is listening. To Abigail he answers, "Better now that I'm fully awake. I remember being in the bowl, I thought Sergeant Oannis had been killed…" He gives a deep sigh, letting his guard down, so to speak. "First thing I asked about when I woke up here. They," a brief wave towards the healers, "Said he was fine. Now I just want to get out of here, and back to my own rack. Otherwise, I think I could pull the wings off a wher!"

Abigail smiles and nods. "I think they do it so one doesn't get to comfy sticking around and slacking off of course. At least this is what I figure." She winks at him playful like and a chuckle escapes her. There is a slight pause and she nods while taking in a breath. "I didn't even know ye was hurt until we was back at Fort an I saw ye there on the cot. I'm glad yer doing better. Ye was hurt awfuly bad after all." She came to check on him several times when he was still out cold, worried it would seem. "I wanted to tell ye that I was sorry about that last conversation we had. Everyone has a right to feel how ever it is they feel. I should not have been to quick to throw my thoughts into the mix without hearing everything ye had to say."

Yurolt nods sadly as he reflects on that last talk, before he was…Well. "No, I think I agree with you now…I mean, the things I saw in that Hold. A weyr can't be responsible for that…We have to protect against that." He shudders greatly at the memories from Gold Hill. The lad will not be as…instistant, as he once was. He has had his battle, fought well, and learned from it. Suddenly he snaps back to reality and sighs. "I'm sorry, yeah, they tell me I'm lucky to still have my leg." He valiantly brushes aside his bedding to reveal a tightly bandaged right leg. "The bastards got me damn near to the bone. But I'll have this forever," he touches the heavy scar running down his left check, "Don't even remember getting it." He shrugs, as if it's not big deal. I mean, Shards, he only almost died, get over it.

Abigail hums softly and nods, she is a bit at ease seeing that Yurolt has had some time to think about the matter if would seem. "Ye sadly got to see first hand some of the evil found in the world." For a few moments she is quiet at the thought while picking at her nail a moment as she is lost in thought. Her pale gaze turns back to him, catching sight of the tight bandage and the healing scar across his cheek. A soft smile is seen and she waves a hand. "Chicks dig scars, or so I've been told. All the girls will be fluttering around ye now."

Yurolt grins widely. "You think?" He is a young man after all, he'd cut off his own arm if it would get girls to 'flutter about'. The guard gazes around the room for a bit, then focuses on Abigail. "So…uh…How are you? Did you see any action at Gold Hill?" Absently he rubs his face along the cut, he'll probably do that alot now that someone has mentioned it.

"Suppose yer just have ta wait and see hum?" Abigail questions with an amused tone at the part on scars and girls. "Me?" There is a pause, a soft ah escapes her. "Well, yes. I got to shoot someone with an arrow. Haven't done that for a while." For a few moments she seems a bit amused over the thought actually.

Yurolt nods knowingly. "I did too. A few….You're alright though, didn't get hurt?" He shows geniune concern for the rider. It was afterall, heavy fighting. He rubs at his face again.

Abigail shakes her head. "Naw, not this time at least. I've had my fair share of cuts, bumps, broken bones nand the like in he past. Suppose Im due for one fight where I don't wind up with another scar to talk about."

Yurolt seems grateful for that small wonder at least. Few of the guard managed to escape without minor injury. Even fewer of the Gold Hill attackers, though they had the Weyr to contend with. "Well I'm glad for that. I think I've had enough for my lifetime…" Somehow he doubts that, especially in his chosen profession.

Abigail nods, a soft smile seen. "I won't complain. I'm sure my card will be pulled at some point." She shrugs a moment before glancing over the room taking in whom all may be around it seems. So many hurt and healing, getting care. A soft sigh escapes her. "To bad so many was hurt during it all." She looks back to Yurolt. "I wish I could tell ye that ye wouldn't have to worry about anything like that agian. Though I get the feeling it would be a lie. Things like this happen it seems."

Yurolt smiles gravely and nods, "Aye, and that's why we have the Guard…" He pauses for a moment, going over some memory no doubt. "Didn't you get put into Thunderbird wing? Does that posting stand now that Gold Hill is over?" He looks at Abi hopefully, it would speak dragonlengths if her temporary posting was now permanent.

Abigail ahs and shrugs, a hand lifting to scratch at her neck. "It was only for this trip it seems. At least so far. We haven't been put into wings yet so just have to wait and see where abouts they want to put me and Niumdreoth I suppose."

Yurolt sighs, "Oh, I thought maybe…" Perhaps a new topic. He twiddles his thumbs for a bit and looks around the room, what to say, what to say? "Well..uh..what say you, when I'm fully healed up, try that spar? I'll even let you chose the weapons." He grins widely, although he is wondering if he'll be at his best anytime soon.

Abigail shrugs slightly, quiet for a moment while apondering. "Suppose it might just have to play itself out. They will put us where we are needed after all." Though she and Niumdreoth is hoping for Thunderbird to be the place. At the talk on the spar she chuckles and nods. "Yer on. When yer better just let me know an we will go from there."

Yurolt sits up a bit more, excited, anything to look forward to after his time in here. Come to think of it, "Say…How long have I been in here? They won't tell, like it would hurt my healing or something." Probably because the healers know if they told him, he'd have tried to escape already.

Abigail ahs softly at the questions, pondering what to say to that before she gives in, as if lying was out of the question for her on the matter. "Its been a few days now." Well it is a vage answer but more then he had before at least.

Yurolt nods and prompts, "A sevenday?" Please don't let it be a sevenday. Yes he's wounded, yes he needs to heal, but he wants out of here so badly. He eyes Abigail intently, don't you lie to me…

Abigail peers around a few moments and she shifts while soon standing up, seeming a bit put on the spot now. "Close to it. Ye lost a lot of blood Yurolt. Ye need ta keep put and rest." In other words, don't fight it!

Yurolt sighs. Perhaps these healers aren't evil, just careful. Still…"Anyway you could…sneak me out." Not that he's fighting it, but could you imagine lying in bed for a sevenday? He gives Abi a sly grin, "Just for a bit. Guard's Honor."

Abigail points at Yurolt. "Not on yer life. The healer would have my head on the mantel if I even tryed to do such a thing." A soft huff escapes her at the mere though. Though no she couldn't imgen being in bed for that long of a time! "Give it another day or two and then I'll see what I can do, alright?"

Yurolt gives in. "Alright." He doesn't like it, but he also doesn't have much choice. Also he is tired, he probably wouldn't be able to walk right now anyway. A yawn escapes the lad and he stretches his arms out wide. "I'm sorry. I guess blood lose would explain the fatigue." Here he gives a light chuckle, though it's obvious that he's going to fade soon.

Abigail smiles and nods. "It's alright. Just work on getting better alright?" She turns, a wave seen as she goes. "I'll speak with ye soon Yurolt." An with that said she is off.

The guard gives a weak wave in return and snuggles into his pillow. Something is muttered, but not clearly, maybe thanks? Maybe something about cheese? Who knows? The lad is gone deep into sleep. A rumbling snore erupts from Yurolt as a healer comes by to check his bandages.


'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.