No Kiss Fer the Pain?

Xanadu Weyr - Meadow Ridge

The meadow continues its gentle rolls and dips, grass tall and short waving in the slightest of breezes. Each hill seems to grow a bit higher, a bit steeper, as eventually, the meadow works up to a large ridge, the top flattening out at its new elevation.
From the top of the ridge, the view is certainly something to be admired - higher than the majority of the trees, one can look out over the rest of Xanadu Weyr proper. The houses in the lower meadow - each roof a different color - and the clock tower peeking upwards from the its forest surroundings are all visible, as is the cliff that houses the Weyr Caverns themselves. And yet, the ridge also holds an amazing view of the night sky - horizon to horizon - unaffected by the light pollution of the more heavily traveled regions.
Settled upon the ridge is a rather distinctive looking building - nearing three stories tall, circular grey walls have carefully been erected, and a large dome is settled upon this solid foundation. Large panels make up the roof, aside from one section which remains open, and from which the telescope the struction houses peeks out. Sitting adjacent to the tower is a long, low building, meant to serve as offices, record rooms and dorms for those who man the observatory, as well as providing a handy platform for those who seek to use smaller, hand-held 'scopes.

Ers'lan had been released from the infirmary, with a recommendation that he stay on light duty and was prohibited from *betweening* until cleared to do so. So, he volunteered to put himself on sentry duty, while issuing orders for the team to still search out those feline tracks. The hunting party, unless they wished to go without him, would have to be delayed a while longer. Now, upon sentry duty, he had his journal out, practicing his writing in between glances down at the quiet world below. It was nearing dusk and there hadn't been anything exciting at all happening in the clearings below. A small scuffle that was quickly cast apart by the local guards, but that was it. No flights today! Thank Faranth. Zhaoth was there on the ridge too, missing a canine fang tooth, a reminder of his insanity at the gates of the tavern when his rider was in immediate peril. The brown was snapping his teeth playfully at the buzzing firelizards around him, the trio playing with the dragon as if to kill boredom.

Keziah had been in the ready room most all the day, stuck behind a mound of paperwork that just won't quit. There's a very slight limp to her step as she slowly makes her way across the meadow up the ridge and her right hand is wrapped lightly. In her off hand she carries a small basket. As she gets closer, the scent of fried chicken can be noticed. There's a moment when she pauses, about the same place she first stopped oh so long ago. There's an odd look on her face and then she's looking over both Zhaoth and then Ers'lan with a deep breath she finishes her journey on up to the pair.

Zhaoth like last time, is the first to notice the figure coming up the rise to meet them. After settling the firelizards down with a dragonic huff and puff, there is a warble of a greeting down to the Wingleader, which has Ers'lan lifting his head from his journal. In the fading light, it was harder to proceed with his practice anyhow. Closing up the journal, he regards the woman yet again, creeping up to make her peace with him. This time he knows her intent! There's a basket in her hand and she only ever brings him food when she wants to apologize! He flags her up with a hand wave, as if to ease her anxiety.

At least this time there is food instead of just klah? "Ers'lan. Zhaoth." she greets the two and hands over the basket to Lan. Not only is there fried chicken, but potato salad, some various fruit and a canister of klah. "It's good to see you again. I know I told you that you needed to rest up more. But it's not how I envisioned it."

Ers'lan takes the basket with an ominous silence, no sooner does he have the basket though than he's digging out some of the chicken to chown down on. He actually manages to clean off a whole chicken wing, before he says a word to her. In fact, he's looking to reach for another one, keeping from eating it to mutter, "Aye… t'was in the infirm this whole time… iffin ya wanted ta see me sooner." An implied accusation in his words, crunching down into another piece of chicken, this a chicken leg. His face is still bruised and even in the fading light it's obvious that his cheek is still swollen and his eye puffy. He's also taken to chewing and biting with the one side and there's a slight flinch and wince every other bite.

Silence meets his words for several minutes as she looks over the meadow. Finally she simply says. "I know." There is no explanation whatsoever. Course, considering the bandages on her hand are loose and not as neat as most healers make it may speak for itself. Or it may not. She turns to look him as she shifts a little to put more weight on her left leg than her right. "Besides, mr prescence almost always seems to upset you, I didn't think that would help your recovery any. And well, it certainly wasn't the time to worry you with wing issues." she notes quietly. "Though, Thea did bring up a valid point. Training up some people to take over as need be. I would like your input on who you think would be could with wing administration duties."

Ers'lan slurps off the meat from the bone as if he hadn't had a decent meal in days. It's likely the case. Gruel was in order for someone who couldn't really work their jaw back and forth to chew. It still seemed to aggravate him, since his chewing does slow, favoring the one side clearly. He points with his chicken holding hand toward the bandage, "Reckon ya should take care of yer hand thar 'n yer leg. Ya harp on me bout narh takin care of me'self yet ya do bout the same. Ignorin ya injuries is ignorin ya duty." He makes for some of the potatoe salad, setting the chicken aside, to shovel in some of the soft textured salad. Canting his head toward her, he talks with his mouth semi-full, "Yer presence dun narh upset me. Yer annoying sometimes, but I reckon that just be normal between us." A playful smirk, "Reckon I should do somethin bout yah hitting me in the face with a skillet tho. I have narh decided whar exactly I want ta do to ya… almost thinking a spanking or some such thing." A beat, "Yer aim is horrible - work on it." Gnawing down on the food again, considering the last point in the conversation. He clears his throat, "Laera. She be in the wing longest and she be smart 'n reliable."

"I saw to my injuries." Keziah notes and then glares at him as he talks about spanking her. Her face actually goes red and it seems to take her some time to get herself under control. Amazing that she didn't just jump right down his throat. Isn't it? Course, the smirking on his face certainly doesn't help. But she can only hold for so long "Well sorry for not having more practice hitting with a skillet. Next time I'll bring my crossbow." she snaps. She takes a breath. Though she is still seething. "Fine, talk to her. Course, she may not even want to work that close with me." she notes and then turns and starts heading back down the ridge muttering under her breath.

"'Ere…" he plops the food down, wipes clean his fingers and makes to reach for the loosely bandaged hand, "Give it 'ere why don't ya. Let me at least put it on right…" he will gently take her hand, though if she fights him on it, he'll grab her elbow in a way that helps control the direction of her hand. Immediately he unwraps the hand just enough so that the slack is tightened and the bandage now sits proper. He works in a methodical and gentle manner. It's good to live with a healer, he picks up on a few things! He does chuckle for her snappish comment, "Be that a threat ta kill me then?" Since you know, crossbows are made for the thing at the end of it to die. He lets loose her hand as she's seething and climbs to her feet, "Reckon yee hit me in the head… I should be angry…" but, oddly, he wasn't. Maybe he realized it was an accident? As for Laera he calls to her in a calm tone, "She will do what she must for her Weyr. And I doubt she would push you away if you really wanted to get close to her. She's a sweet woman Keziah. She doesn't have your fiery temper. She'd understand." As he watches her go, he shakes his head with mirth filling his eyes, "Kezi, com 'ere ya bonnie lass… Dun go stormin off again… Least ya should kiss me fer me pain!" Oh he -is- enjoying this!

Add a New Comment
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License