Typical Istan Emergency

Ista Weyr - Infirmary
Equipped with the latest healing technologies, this spotlessly clean, large room smells slightly of antiseptic and numbweed. At one end, cots sit for the recovering to recover on. At the other end, are the procedure tables. Cabinets with supplies and medical files sit along one wall. At any given moment, there could be any number of people in here. A weyrchild with a broken arm, a mother recovering from giving birth or even one of the residents recovering from heat stroke or sun poisoning, a rider and dragon recovering from a strained wing muscle.

It's an average day in Ista Weyr; the sun's up and shining, the bowl is busy enough for the afternoon, and other than a few notable patients, the infirmary hasn't seen /too/ much excitement today. But alas, all that is about to change. It begins with a trickle of panicked orchard workers, and then the brief rumors of an /ovine/ running amok turn into the rumors of a /feline/ mauling some people, and by the time a certain brown dragon is seen heading this way, there's already a good-sized grouping of healers on alert. And what can be heard, certainly, once they're close enough, is the yelled expletives of a certain gardener girl, "How d'ya shardin' stay oon this thiing!" Nevermind that she's currently calling the dragon a 'thing' with one arm desperately clinging there, while the other is curled around her midsection, shirt tinged red at the shoulder and the left pantleg shredded and also red-tinged. Oh, and she so /definitely/ looks as if she's about to hurl.

Gobhan waves us and uses his hands and arms to push himself up from where he was lying on his stomach. "Wha….?"

G'len is sitting by his younger brother's side. "Seems to be some disturbance in the Bowl. How do you feel?"

Zaruath's still making strange deep growling noises, likely more so now that he's got a screaming girl on his back and his lifemate is gritting her teeth. "Jus' don' go pulling us /both/ down if you're gonna fall off," comes her hissed reply. Quickly adding, "Again," to the end of that, and a pointed look over her shoulder at her friend. Fy doesn't seem to be having any trouble hanging on, even with one good arm and leg. People watching might notice the bits of ichor dropping from a few scratches on Zaruath, but that's nowhere near the mess the two girls are in. Fy's bleeding enough for both of them, and she bites back a yelp as Zaruath comes to a stumbled landing, hissing unpleasantly at those grouped near the infirmary entrance and nearly barreling through Healers as he stomps into the infirmary itself, meant for dragons as well after all. Only then does he hunch down as low as he can go, glaring even at the people trying to help Fy and Cenlia down.

Lotrien is making his way into the infirmary at just the /wrong/ time it seems. Any time a brown dragon is charging towards an area is a bad time to be /in/ said area. As it stands, the boy is nursing a gash on his forearm that's really more of a deep, red, visibly painful scratch. "Its okay, Ches.. stop fussing, I'm fine. You didn't mean to." The boy mutters down to the baby firelizard he's cradling in his other arm as though it /were/ a baby. But see, the firelizard is no longer fussing about the scratch on her human's arm. She's wide eyed and staring at the monstrously huge dragon barreling his way into the infirmary with two riders. Dragons don't scare her. Upset dragons on a mission do. Lotrien curses, 'Shards!' and quickly moves out of the entrance and off to the side, staring at Zaruath. "What in a gold's shells is.. " Just a boy, he's not one to jump up and try and help. He's already in the way enough.

S'gam should seriously start paying more attention to the gossip filtering through the infirmary, but alas, he is elbow deep in ichor, and trying quite hard to keep a green dragon in place while an older Dragonhealer attends to a deep, nasty gash in her side. Ittisieth looms over what might as well be an operation, slowly whirling eyes fixated on the task at hand… until a not-at-all unfamiliar growl snags his attention. "Uh?" Starting, S'gam's head whips around to stare, horrified, at Zaruath and his riders. A long moment passes, and then, "T'nek, scrub up and get over here. Hold the wound here and here so it doesn't seal wrong." Hasty and unclear instructions, but the bronzerider doesn't hang around to clarify. Cleaning the worst of the mess off his arms, Sig makes a sprinting run for Zaruath, hopefully making it over in time to help his weyrmate and the gardener girl down, face a white sheet of panic. "By the First Egg, what happened to you?!" For once, he doesn't ask the obvious 'are you alright.'

G'len rushes forward to see if there is anything he can do to help. "What happened?" he asks as he comes forward, turning his head this way and that to see what he can do. "Was it another feline attack?"

Nimen is here! The fuzzy-haired journeyman helping to direct several healers over towards the dragon and then having to scramble back very quickly as the brown nearly barrels the lot of them over. As soon as Zaruath comes to a stop, the healers are is calling for numbweed and redwort and the usual emergency supplies. Though, primarily, for those rolling cots, one of which Nims grabs the end of to help carry the injured girls - there's no way the healers are going to make them /walk/ with all those injuries. The man just smoothes his face from the near-grimace it had almost become, dropping into healer-mode like a second skin. There are calls for "Bandages!" and "Stem the bleeding first," though Nims himself stands back after a moment to let the others help the girls down, since too many in the way would be even worse. An eyebrow twitches juust barely upward at the sudden sight of S'gam rushing over. /That/ guy again. Hrm. But he only pauses a moment, having ended up by Lotrien, and the boy is given a nod, "Everything okay there?" klah brown eyes focusing immediately on the lad's arm. As there appear to be quite a number of healers already dealing with the emergency over there, Nims offers Lotrien a smile, "Let's take care of that," and indicating a clear counter and cot, a little ways down from where Gobhan is.

Cenlia flails! As soon as the dragon touches down, she tries to slide off - but given that he's still /moving/ this proves superbly unwise. With a 'yawp!' the girl all but tumbles off the dragon. Good thing there are healers nearby, or that could have been pretty nasty. Cough. Cen groans a, "'S all /your/ fault," to Fy, and then quite pointedly at S'gam's question, "Fy did it." But is that an attempt at a lopsided grin? It might be. She's definitely not in as bad a shape as F'yr, Cen waving vaguely in the brownrider's direction with, "Tried t' fight a shardin' feline." And then she makes quite the 'hurp' sound, and maybe the gardener girl might be a little bit green, because the next moment she loses her lunch all over some poor apprentice's shoes. "Um, sorry.." is mumbled sheepishly as she's led to a cot and her sleeve and pantleg are cut away. Whatever fight was in Cenlia before, it seems to be fading, replaced by a groaned, "Auugh it huurts." Good thing there's numbweed nearby!

Zaruath gives everyone the evil eye, even those that were helping, but those that were hovering around and weren't Healers? Yes, you Lotrien. He sees you watching… His teeth bare, and a hiss is let out at the sight of S'gam as well. Sure, they might be helping, but after having his lifemate mauled by a feline he wasn't too fond of being parted with her, extra possessive. With the help of Healers, Fy gets down from the grumbly brown, waving away at least half of those hands with her good hand and passing a glare at Cenlia. "Ain't my fault! And I /did not/! Hey! Watch what you're poking!" She yelps in pain as someone gets to her injured arm. She's obviously got a good bite on her left arm where the worst of the bleeding is coming from and another through her pant legs. "And it killed Fluffy," she adds with a sniffle. "Zaru killed the feline." Her voice gets a bit slurred, dizzy from the blood loss now, her eyes blinking as she turns to S'gam now, face wrinkled up at him. "'m perfectly fine," she lies, even if he didn't ask. "Zaru's hurt though. Get /him/ better." And that almost comes out like an order.

Lotrien is weyrborn and raised, he's used to clamors and crowds and sadly enough the sight of both blood and dragon ichor, which means that he's not intimidated by all that's going on, just a little uneasy. Chesney, the little green culprit behind that deep scratch (firelizard talons hurt!) peeks out from her protective owner's hold and peers at Nimen curiously. Her throat swells a little as she warbles gently at the man. She seems to understand he's here to help. Lotrien's mouth is slightly agape as he watches the injured girl hurl all over some poor apprentice's feet. "Ewww..gross.." He says, nose wrinklingly up. Then he looks to Nimen and back down at his cut, nodding. "Yes, Journeyman Nimen.. Chesney..that's my girl here, she.." He catches sight of that evil glare from the brown as he hears hissing (when something that big hisses, it's a /big/ hiss), and bared teeth. The boy frowns and edges a little closer to Nimen on his way to skirt around the dragon and towards the cot indicated. "They're always so mean when they're injured. Don't see me baring my teeth at everyone."

With the direction of a Healer, G'len takes a small bucket of water and some fresh cloths and sets work helping to clean wounds. He doesn't know anybody here though there are a few faces that are vaguely familiar to him. But he does the best he can to help.

Gobhan keeps quiet but looks with fearful eyes. "There were two," he says at last.

"She /what/." S'gam's eyes flick from Cenlia up to F'yr as the brownrider is lifted down, dark eyes raking over her as if to be sure she isn't going to fall over and die right in front of him. He even endures Zaruath's hiss without a flinch, his own worry just as palpable. "Fluffy?" Sig couldn't begin to comprehend the brownrider's sniffles, but he moves out of the way so that Cenlia can get carted off and tended to. "B-but… you don't look fine." Though he's one to talk, hand shoving back through his hair so that even it mirrors his frantic look. He does glance up at Zaruath, seeking out those ichor-oozing wounds, and he knows he won't be at all useful to F'yr, but he hovers for a moment anyways. "But I want to stay with you." A crease appears between his brow, but he steps back, stiff. "Not like he'll let me, anyways…" he takes a long moment before staggering backwards, face regaining some small composure while looking for his Dragonhealer kit, set aside before the green had come it. "C'mon, Zaruath. Nothing we can do for her now, and she'll get better knowing you're okay." He sounds as though he's convincing himself just as much as coaxing the brown, eyes flicking around the rest of the infirmary to take them all in (even that healer he'd pawned an egg off on) before beckoning.

Nimen gives Lotrien's little green a gentler smile, assuring, "We should have this taken care of in no time," indicating the boy's arm and moving to keep himself between the lad and the dragon. Not that he looks worried at all, but it's always good to try to be reassuring. "She gave you this, hm?" Nims gives the hissing brown dragon only a brief look, "I'm sure he's just scared for his lifemate." He's guessing, of course. He doesn't know whether /that/ one is always like. His expression is faintly sympathetic at the boy's reaction to the vomit. "Come on, let's get you taken care of," and Nims quickly sets about washing his hands and acquiring supplies, tilting his head toward the cot with, "Have a seat?" and rolling over one of the carts. "Is this the only scratch?"

Gobhan calls over to the young boy. "Don't worry… a few stitcheds don't hurt all /that/ much."

Cen groans and makes cranky-faces at the attending healers, though her scrapes and other worse injuries are soon slathered with numbweed, and there's a much-relieved expression as the pain eases. "Shards, thought we was dead for /sure/," she makes a face at Fy, going to far as to stick her tongue out at the brownrider with a 'thbbbt!' and then another, "Ugh, is /too/ your fault! You brought the shardin' ovine." And the expression that passes over her features is none too pleasant, that's for sure. No love for Fluffy, does this gardener have. She sticks her tongue out at Lortien too, though whether she actually heard what he said or just saw his wrinkled up nose, who knows. She then flops back and closes her eyes, only inching one open after a second to call to S'gam, "Shards, ya shoulda seen it, wrestled it bare-handed. Was lucky I had a /shovel/!" Ahem. Right, and she shuts up then, just as the healers begin poking and prodding at her. And there's a hiss from the gardener that's none too happy about it.

F'yr has enough sense still to look slightly guilty about that. What if it was her fault? She doesn't even look at S'gam now, settled onto a rolling cot of her own and grumbling as Healers work to cut her pants to get better access to the wound on her leg. "I'll be up an' running 'gain by tomorrow. Ain't nothing but a scratch." Or deep bites. As she's rolled away, at least she relaxes a bit when numbweed is applied as well, turning her head to follow after Cenlia. "Bet you could've killed the thing all on your own if you didn't lose your shovel," she says with a snort, head falling back on a pillow. For now, that's about all she manages while they stitch her up. Zaruath on the other hand frantically hovers at the entrance, looking from those others that were hurt back to where they took his lifemate, and then to S'gam with a snort. They both were right for once, there was no way he was going with the bronzerider. But he did catch a glare from Fy, and reluctantly drags himself to get the scratches treated. But not without many grumbles and hisses.

Lotrien nods quickly and pulls himself up onto the cot, sitting down on the edge and looking to Nimen. "I kinda.. well, it's my fault really. She slept on my stomach last night, and I guess I kind of rolled over and squashed her. She woke up in a fit and next thing I know, I got this." It's no tale of heroism or valience in the heat of battle. Nope, this war-wound is acheived 'off the clock', so to speak. He raises his arm and peers at it. "Do you think it'll scar?" He hopes, he hopes. He hears Gobhan and looks back to him and winces slightly, but says, "Ahh, stitches ain't nothin." False bravado to be sure. He grins, then looks back to Nimen. "Yeah, just this." And then his attention is pulled towards all the commotion. His brows tighten slightly. "What happened to'm? Look like they attacked a wher and lost." He hasn't been close enough to hear about felines and ovines. He's already missed the tongue sticking out, but he does stare right at Cen with childish abandon. "She looks pretty hurt. You don't think she's gonna die do you?" Yes, he did just jump to that conclusion. Poor Cenlia.

Gobhan smiles back at Lotrien. "That…depends on where they are," he clarifies with a grimace. "But the numbweed really helps."

S'gam just sort of… blanches at the idea of his F'yr wrestling the thing bare-handed, even if the image of Cenlia wielding that deadly shovel of hers against a feline was a mildly amusing one. Just not amusing enough to tamp out the worry in his eyes. "Somehow I remain uncomforted," he returns in a loud voice, giving Fy another once over before offering a tight nod. "Yeah… yeah sure, of course you will. Run tomorrow, I mean." He might not believe that for an instant, but if it'd make her feel better… "No if's or but's, Zaru," S'gam warns, finally ceasing to worry about F'yr now that she was in capable hands, and instead zeroing in on her lifemate. "The quicker you let me do this, the quicker you can hover over the healers and make them nervous. I'll even toss in a new song on the guitar. Now lean down so I can reach you." S'gam's voice evens out into something professional by the end, no longer Sig, Competitor for Zaruath's Fy-time, but S'gam, Dragonhealer. "We're going to have to clean the wound out with redwort first to prevent infection, and then we'll see if you need stitches, okay, Zaruath?

Nimen ahs, giving Lotrien's green firelizard a slightly more sympathetic look, "Accidents do happen. Be sure to have one of the dragonhealers look her over before you leave, okay?" He tugs a stool over and settles across the cart from the boy, holding his hands out with a, "Let me have a look at your arm?" The healer offers another smile, "If you keep it clean and let it scab over without worrying at it, it shouldn't leave much of a scar, if any, at all." There's a glance towards the injured girls an dragon at that question, Nim's brows sneaking together juust a touch, but she only shakes his head, "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." Injuries that bad? It'll probably have made news at High Reaches by the next day. "I'm sure they will all be fine," and here he does give the girls a closer look, but continues in a calm voice, "I suspect it looks worse than it is." He could be speculating entirely, but he's not looking worried. Or maybe he just hides it well.

"Shardin' right I could've," Cenlia's face breaks into a grin, opening her eyes and glancing over at Fy, "Stupid shovel slipped outta my hands." That's her excuse and she's sticking to it. Ahem. "Woulda whacked it another good one," and then the girl pauses to grimace, though it's debatable whether it's for the healer currently poking her shoulder or something else entirely. "Betcha we'll /both/ be up an' running," she smirks, shooting F'yr a crooked grin, "Ain't nothin' can keep us in here." And if Fy's planning an infirmary break, Cen is most /definitely/ not getting left behind. "Shards, really owe yer dragon one," she adds after a moment, craning her neck to peer over in the direction of the brown and S'gam, "Don't suppose you need any dragon nail trimmers?" That is asked of Fy as Cen drops her head back down and lets the healers get to work. And there's a muffled groan as the ovine-trample-bruises are discovered on her midsection. Oh yay, more prodding. Grooan.

G'len says, "Putting oil on the wounds will help them to heal without scars. Or at least it keeps the new flesh from scarring as much. I brought some over to Western Weyr for my brother. I can get more if you like," he offers to the wounded folk. "There's a Healer there who makes it especially for humans and for wounds like this. WOrks well on burns, too."

"I'll let ya kill the next feline all on yer own," Fy slurs out, wincing everything the healers poke even through the numbweed. They're stitching at least, and trying to do so as fast as possible before Fy loses all her blood. Falling silent on the cot, she stills almost completely, even to the point of worrying some of the Healers. But after a moment she peeks out and looks towards Cenlia, a mischievous look in her eyes. "Just scratches," she repeats, obviously planning a grand escape, as soon as the Healers leave them alone. Zaruath glares down at S'gam even more at that tone of voice, but follows. There's a low whine for his hurt lifemate the further he goes, even as he drops himself down to the Dragonhealer's level. The scratches were along his snout where the feline apparently took a few swipes at him, and his foreleg from more attacks as he fought the cat off. Both are stretched out and laid at the ground and he stills almost completely, all but his anxiously twitching tail.

Lotrien winces slightly at Gobhan's words. "Yeah, that's true. But she just got my arm. It stings but s'not too bad." He looks back to him. "Why're you here? You get hurt too?" Nimen's words drag his attention back to the healer and he holds out his arm for the other to inspect. It's already stopped bleeding. The skin is a little ragged around the cut, showing that Chesney'd given a little push/kick and rip in the process of scrambling out from under him before she'd even thought to disappear. Give her a break, she was one day old! Lotrien nods. "I checked her over, and she seems fine. Just upset. But I'll let them take a look at her to make sure." He looks down worriedly at the little firelizard, who doesn't seem to notice anything then what the healer's doing, her head craning way out to watch him curiously. Lotrien looks back towards Cenlia and then smirks a little. "She's grinnin and talking a bunch, so I bet she's okay. At least she's gonna have scars." he seems disappointed that he won't.

Gobhan answers Lotrien with a nod. "Couple of days ago. Got me on my left arm, my right hip and, uh…left backside and thigh. Shorynia was able to chase him away. She was out riding her runner. The runner kicked it and she grabbed me and we rode off."

S'gam shoots constant concerned glances towards the other half of the infirmary, occasionally bouncing off the other patients, but mostly watching the progress around F'yr and Cenlia. "Don't worry, Zaru. They've been training almost all their lives. If anybody knows what they're doing for your Fy, it's them." Keeping up the reassuring monologue, S'gam backs down from the apparently-irritating Dragonhealer voice with a slight wince, trying a different tactic instead. Cleaning out the wounds on his nose first with a gentle application of redwort, the bronzerider examines each of them before pursing his lips. "Well, the good news is you don't need any stitches up here, but you still need numbweed and a few bandages." He moves on to the foreleg, which appears to be in worse condition at first glance, but he'll repeat the process just the same. Glance for his friends. Glance back at Zaru. "Five bucks says they run away before they're allowed to." Psychic? Naw, but he knew them without a doubt.

Nimen inspects the scratch on Lotrien's arm, hrming quietly to himself and then fetching the redwort and a little pot of numbweed, and of course bandages and clean clothes. Provided the youth keeps his arm out, Nims sets to work, warning a gentle, "This will sting a little," and taking a clean cloth to dab the redwort on. Nimen certainly notices he's got an audience of one green firelizard, and that smile tugs at the edges of his mouth. His own green Splott is curled up waay across the infirmary, on his desk, acting as a paperweight. He nods to the lad before glancing back at the injured girls, Cenlia in particular getting a patient look as he comments, "If she stays in the infirmary this time, like she's supposed to, I'm sure she'll be just fine." Because he's the unfortunate healer who had to treat her /last/ time. Sigh. But back to the task at hand, attention returning to the boy's arm.

G'len finishes helping with one of the patients then come over to see if S'gam needs help with the dragon. He's got more numbweed and bandages. "Your dragon?" he asks.

Cenlia is most definitely grinning and talking a bunch - not much to worry the healers working on /her/. "Just gotta get me a decent shovel," she states, about killing the next feline on her own, smirking a bit but then wincing as one bruise or another is poked and the healers start up on the stitches. That poor left leg of hers, already sporting the scar from the /last/ adventure with Fy, is even more scratched up now, but at least nothing's broken. Cen catches the brownrider's mischievous look and snickers, stifling it quickly lest any observent healers catch on. "Shardin' right," agreeing about the scratches, even if she makes a terribly expressive face for it now and again. And yes, she totally sees Lotrien and Nimenface glancing her way, and sticks her tongue out at them. So mature she is.

Zaruath is /not/ comforted. Not by S'gam, and not by those Healers over there. He snorts at the Dragonhealer and passes a nasty look towards the people with his lifemate, eyes still whirling and tinged with red after all that adrenaline in protecting his Fy. He at least isn't complaining about getting poked and prodded by the man, too used to this sort of treatment after all the times he had to visit dragonhealers. F'yr has enough strength to roll her eyes, but is quiet through the rest of the procedure, minus the odd twitch or wince as the Healers close up her wounds. It does take awhile, but eventually they get the worst of them closed.

Lotrien tilts his head towards Gobhan. "I heard that a few people been getting hurt here lately. Wild animal attacks or somethin? I once got stared down by an ovine but never trampled." Or attacked by a feline large enough to do more then scratch him. He keeps his arm held out in whatever position Nimen wishes it kept. The boy winces slightly come that sting, and Chesney's eyes take on a hint of red as she churrs and leans even closer to Nimen and the cut, nearly tumbling out of Lotrien's arm save for the fact that the boy readjusts her and tells her, "Shh, it's okay. It don't hurt much, see?" He says, holding especially still for Nimen and acting like it was a walk in the park. Which, it is, but.. he's a kid, so of course it's a big deal to him. He glances back towards Cenlia then understanding crosses his eyes and he asks, "Is she that one that keeps getting hurt? Like..animal attacks or something? I've heard stuff about her." Rumours, and perhaps not even about Cenlia, but her presence here might give them merrit.. "Hey!" Lotrien barks as he sees her sticking her tongue out at him. He scowls and sticks his tongue -way- out at her. See how she likes it.

At least S'gam doesn't seem perturbed that Zaruath's not in the least motivated or calmed by his words. Perhaps he'd just been rationalizing things for himself again, or maybe he had finally just up and adapted to the brown's surly behaviour. Whichever was the case, S'gam continues with a murmured, "Yeah, gonna need to stitch these few," before shifting away to accept the numbweed and bandages from G'len with a crooked smile. "Hey, thanks. No, he's that woman's," he says, pointing to F'yr. "That dragon's mine." This time he points to a bronze still over by the green. Returning to Zaruath's side, S'gam covers the nose wounds in a layer of numbweed, movements brisk and practiced. Over that he rests one of the pads, sealing up the wound in a silly-looking way for his nose, but it'll heal best that way. For the deeper cuts on his foreleg, Sig gets to work stitching, closing each of the worst wounds before repeating the process and wrapping them all up to keep out further infection. "There…"

G'len takes a look at the wounded dragon's stitches and gives a hand atbandaging. "She and her dragon are very brave."

There's a definite tug of a smile at the edges of Nimen's mouth, uttering a gentle, "Easy there," to the green firelizard and then assuring an, "Almost done." Nims moves to the numbweed next, and finally a bit of dry gauze to keep the scratch covered and clean. "All done," he tells Lotrien after a bit, offering another smile for the boy and his little green firelizard. "Er.." the question on Cenlia having Nimens glancing back toward the two girls, and then answering a completely deadpan, "Yes." And if he looks as if he's suppressing a sigh… well. He's had to deal with /that/ one quite a lot, sadly. And while there might be a sparkle of mirth in the healer's eyes, he shifts his expression back into neutral, no matter how funny the kids making faces at each other might be.

Cenlia, likewise, falls silent, glancing over at Fy now and again as if making sure her friend hasn't tried an escape already. Cough. The boy way over there sticking his tongue out at her is met by the gardener girl totally making a funkyface at him! Buahaha! She scrunches up her nose and sticks her tongue waay out. THBBBBT! That is, until one of the healers by her notices and gives her a prod, causing the girl to 'ack' and look sheepish.

Chesney relaxes a bit as the numbweed is smeared into place and her eyes take on their more relaxed colors. Her maw opens then, parting in a huge (for her) yawn before she flops back into her little Lotrien-created-nook (his arm). She doesn't quite just curl up and go to sleep, but she does look like she's on her way. Lotrien's tongue is sucked back into his mouth and he scowls at the older girl. "I bet she gets into trouble allll the time." He announces, juuust loudly enough to be heard by her, perhaps. Then he looks back to Nimen, then his wound, and grins. "Awesome! Thanks, Journeyman Nimen, sir."

As wired as Zaruath is, barely allowing S'gam to work on him, this appearance of someone completely strange makes the dragon startle and snarl angrily, snapping his teeth as soon as S'gam finishes with the bandage on his snout, making sure to make it clear that G'len better keep his dislance unless he wanted fingers to go missing. His tail lashes even more now, and he's anxious to have S'gam done with him. The moment he says 'There' it's with a snarl that he moves away from the Dragonhealer. Grateful, isn't he? He moves over to stalk the Healers near his lifemate instead. Fy on the other hand starts to drift off, the loss of blood and the day's events finally catching up to her. But it wouldn't be a surprise if she'll be awake as soon as the Healers leave her.

S'gam's mouth quirks again for G'len's words, head bobbing in a nod even as he steps back. "Very brave." He doesn't do much in physical reaction to Zaruath's teeth-snap, likely having endured much worse at the hands of irritated dragons, but he doesn't blame G'len if he backs off after that. "Oh, be nice," the Dragonhealer mumbles under his breath, giving Zaru a look and watching him go, head shaking to and fro a bit, a small betrayal of inner frustration with the brown. Hanging in limbo for a long moment, Sig looks as though he might join the brown in lingering around the knot of healers around F'yr and Cenlia, but eventually decides against it. They're awful still, either asleep, sedated, or playing at either, and to be honest, he didn't want to get Zaruath any more riled up by nancing over there… So with a resigned sigh, he cleans up after his own mess and rinses Zaru's ichor, numbweed and redwort off his hands, scrubbing to get rid of the worst of the reddish stains.

Nimen nods to Lotrien, gathering the healing supplies to be put away, and smiling a, "You're welcome." He stands, setting the stool and rolling cart against a wall, and moves to set the jars and other supplies back in their proper places. As he's doing this he mentions, "Be sure to keep the bandage from becoming dirty, and be careful when you wash. Just come in again in a few days or so, to have it checked over, just to be sure it hasn't become infected." And there's a warmer smile for the little firelizard too, before he's glancing over to the two injured girls, though for the moment the healer isn't too eager to join his fellows being scrutinized by the brown. There is the sliightest smile about trouble, but Nimen wisely doesn't comment.

Cenlia so totally hears what Lotrien says, and turns to make another face at him, the gardener girl snickering all the while, and causing the healers around her to look terribly grumpy. But Cen is most definitely amused, though it's not long before she's getting sedated, and alas, her little bout of immaturity soon ends.

Lotrien makes every point of appearing to be the more mature one now (a little too late) and ignores Cenlia's funny-face as he nods quickly to Nimen. "I will!" He pushes off of the cot. "I'm gonna go get Chesney checked out. Thanks again." That done, he heads off to find the appropriate healer to pester.

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