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 Posted: Fri Feb 15, 2013 5:14 pm
When the riders returned from threadfall, Azimuth touched down in the Bowl as gently and carefully as he could. Nothing in the way he moved or acted let on to the fact, but his mind was a mess. T'nus was already unconscious -or barely conscious- and Azimuth was close to panicking. His eyes were white with worry and he looked around desperately.
Help! he cried, reaching out to those he knew, instead of the healers. Xenith, Zelith, help! Mine is hurt and I do not know what to do for him. You must come now! Please. Hurry.
Meanwhile, though still barely conscious, the shock of landing had caused T'nus to stir. Most of his injuries (as threadscore had the blessed tendency to be) were self-cauterizing, so he at least had nothing to fear from blood-loss. The ones on his arms weren't bad, and with a little numbweed and perhaps a bandage, he could have easily fogotten about them. However, several of those on his back had gone deeper, missing his vital organs, fortunately, but leaving a large area of open wound that would surely get infected if not treated immediately by a healer. Worst by far was the one on his neck; the wideness of the wound and its position had caused the skin to pull apart, and it began to bleed. T'nus felt it when he moved his head. Instinctively, he clapped a hand to the back of his neck- and regreted it. Rivots of pain shot all the way down his spine.
"Ugh.. where am I?" he asked, groggily.
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Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2013 4:57 pm
Azimuth, we come. Mine comes. He calls healers! was Zelith's instant reassurance. The bronze landed next to his fellow with a thud. He seemed too much in a hurry to fret about graceful landings. How is yours injured? Zelith inquired. Have you called for healers? The younger bronze did not wait for an answer, instead lowering himself to the ground for his rider to disembark.
"T'nus!" T'rel called, hurrying to the Weyrsecond's side. He put an arm around the man in order to support him. "I'll get you to the healers," he said. "You'll be fine." How could he promise something like that? He was no healer, he couldn't tell how bad T'nus' injuries were by looking at them. "They'll get you patched up," he continued soothingly. Shards! He had no experience in the craft, save for what basics he'd been taught to patch himself up.
This was awkward. He started to lead the older man to the healer's station, pausing to make sure there wasn't too much bloodloss. T'rel pulled a scarf from his neck and carefully applied it to T'nus' neck. "Hold it there," he said. "Don't move your head. Don't try to talk. I'll get you to Meela."
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Posted: Tue Mar 12, 2013 4:42 pm
I have not! The bronze replied. I wanted someone I trust. His eyes swirled grey and yellow as he looked at Zelith worriedly. He clearly did not want anyone near his rider that he didn't know, and was not thrilled at the thought of him being taken away from him. Still, knowing he was being irrational, he bent his front legs so that T'rel could reach him.
T'nus heard his name being called, but it sounded like he was hearing it through water. The words were murky and distorted. "What?" he muttered. He slipped his legs out of his riding straps and let himself be pulled down off of Azimuth's back. T'rel hand grazed his back, and it seared with pain. Unfortunately, there was no where really he could put his hand without it hurting, but Tnus didn't know this. "Watch it!" he mumbled angrily, before promptly being told not to speak.
T'nus made a noise between a grumble and a groan -that wasn't talking, right?- but he took T'rel's scarf and pressed it to his neck, no matter how much it hurt. He blinked sweat and blood from his eyes and tried to focus. He managed to stand and limp along with T'rel's help. "Ugh.. is it bad?" he asked, ignoring T'rel's early order. "Tell me honestly, how bad it is?"
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Posted: Sat Mar 16, 2013 8:50 pm
You should not trust us. Not for this. Yours needs a healer. He is injured badly, Zelith fretted. He could understand Azimuth's hesitation. Though he could not remember it, he too had prevented help from coming to his rider out of fear.
"Sorry!" T'rel hissed. "Do you want to be scored again? We have to get you out of here!" The bronzerider was gentle with his hands, but firm with his words. He didn't want to study his fellow's wounds. He wasn't a healer. Seeing T'nus in such shape made him feel ill. They hadn't always gotten along, he remembered; but T'nus was a good sort. He didn't deserve this. No one did.
"Will you stop talking?" he snapped. "You need a healer immediately. I...don't know, T'nus. He gave his fellow bronzerider's hand a squeeze. "You'll be alright with Meela's help. You're in bad shape now, but... You'll be alright." He had to be.
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