In the Meadow, Seryth has lost her serene, tranquility. A rising irritability propels her, as a leaf blown before the wind of an approaching summer squall. She rises to stand, half-scrambles, half flies to make her way from the spot beside Kinseth's barn-weyr with a soft growl, muted thunder promising the storm to come, and heads towards the Feeding Grounds.
All is quiet from Kinseth's barn-weyr across the meadow for a long moment, and then an agitated rustling sound starts up, and, after a long moment, the dragon occupant decides, /enough/. Kinseth comes barrelling out of the barn, the doors flying wide open, the latch broken, and the perfectly healthy bronze headed for the feeding grounds.
Xanadu Weyr - Infirmary
The infirmary here is intended for human care. It is spotless and smells of disinfectant, cots are lined up against one wall, a curtain can be pulled to give some privacy to the occupants of the cots if they so desire. A cabinet stands off against another wall, instruments and medications stored against when they will be needed. A couple of curtained off beds are used for examinations of patients and the treatment of minor injuries which won't require long term care. A desk with chair is just off of the doorway for the healer to sit and catch up on record keeping after a long days work.
Thea is sitting in her cot, leaning against the headboard, working on paperwork as usual. There's a bit of a frown on her normally agreeable face and she's twitching her feet. Seems the Junior just can't sit still today. She rubs her temples. Seems the headache is still with her.
Seryth flaps twice as she leaps over the Feeding Ground fence, aiming for a group of ovines bunched in the center of the pen. A sudden gust of wind interferes with her trajectory, but she swerves to correct and lands right in the middle of the herd, scattering them. One talon hooks a hind leg and the unfortunate critter is dragged towards the waiting jaws. With a snarl of displeasure towards the direction of the infirmary, the young queen lowers her head, latches onto the animal and sucks it dry.
Old bronze Tsaioth had taken a loong vacation somewhere in the southern continent when the first dragon had fallen sick in his home Weyr of Fort. This dragon was too old to come down with a hacking, but he still had to swing around a Weyr for news, even if they were technically banned. And how can he be kept away from such a lovely shiny thing like Seryth? This bronze needed the company after his rider's self-imposed exhile until things were more cleared up at Fort. His big brazen wings ruffle and he bugles all mighty-like for a moment before he takes off briefly before coming down with a fatal *thump* on a herdbeast.
X'hil is laying on his stomach on his cot, propped up on his elbows and finishing up the mending on his jacket, when he suddenly raises his head. He's been keeping a close mental link with Kinseth, not being able to be with the bronze physically, so he's instantly aware of the bronze's change in surroundings. He quickly glances to Thea, face paling slightly. "/Now/?" he mutters, with a frown.
"So I burned a little, what's the sharding problem? I ain't /that/ old—Ow, woman! That hurts!" U'nar had come in just recently to be treated for a painful looking sunburn on his back, and the shirtless older man is now glaring at the Healer. "What happened to gentle Healer… hands…" he blinks. Blinks some more, and then groans. "Of all the rotten luck…"
R'miel heads into the infirmary with a stack of papers tucked under his arm. The weyrsecond looks decidedly distracted right now. "No… no… right now? Oh shards." The papers get slammed onto the counter in the waiting room as Ram seeks out the company of a particular junior weyrwoman. Spotting her he invites himself over into her area, giving her a grins and a bit of a wave.
Kinseth /leaps/ over the feeding ground fence like a show jumping runner, galloping across the pen to pick out a beast that looks /particularly/ juicy. There's a decisive /snap/ as he grabs the beast by the neck, quickly jerking the animal upwards until the body hangs limply. He drops the dead beast, and lowers his muzzle to the clean carcass, quickly ripping into it and starting to drink.
Dhonzayth probably should still be recovering at Ista. You know, from that whole cough thing. But, only a few days after the cure was administered the worst of the side effects have worn off and now its not embarrassing to be the poor Istan bronze. And so, doing what they normally do, they're at Xanadu, the bronze having bolted for the feeding grounds as soon as L'ton's feet were on the ground, leaving the Istan Weyrsecond to stare, but here he is, never the less. As Seryth is downing her first beast, the brassy bronze is finally joining the show, letting the pretty lady have the honor of the first kill before he's settling on his own, backwinging to take down a large herdbeast, trumpeting - still a bit hoarse - bowing in honor to Seryth before he's dropping his muzzle to the animal's neck, draining it of its liquid energy, the warmth working from the inside out, augmenting his want.
Arinith swoops down into the feeding ground from above. The slender bronze can't seem to decide on one particular beast or the next… so he flops down onto one and slashes the throat of another. The slashed beast is drank from first, at a rather alarming rate it's drained and then Arinith moves onto the one he's sitting on. There's a warble to Seryth, though with all that blood in Arinith's mouth it sounds more like a gurgle. Probably not very inviting, nor very flirtatious, but he'll try again later.
L'ton is still staring over his shoulder at the clearing, blinking at Dhonzayth as the bronze takes off in a hurry, shaking his head. "Dhonzayth, don't ya…" But as much as he may yell, its of no real use, and instead he's meandering into the infirmary, coming to visit a particular greenrider who is just as incapacitated as about half the Weyr, it seems. However, after a few words with a Healer, and a realization of exactly *what* Dhonzayth took off in a hurry for, he's left to stare, but then is following the Healer's directions towards Thea's little area.
Thea looks up at the arrival of the sudden influx of bodies in the normally quiet Infirmary (barring boozeparties, of course). She shrugs. Not her concern. As R'miel sits near her, she looks up with a half-growl, "What do you want?" Normally pleased to see the Weyrsecond, she's far from it right now. At X'hil's question, she snaps at him, "Now -what-?" Her shoulders work irritably under her patient's gown. L'ton is lucky. He merely gets a glare. "I want…" She pauses as she gets the current of Seryth's sudden mood. "…blood." No she doesn't really. "Blood only!"
Seryth's haunches bunch, her wings lift and with the downsweep she leaps skywards, several strong beats propel her upwards directly over the Weyr. The winds from the approaching storm sweep her over the waters of Caspian lake and she allows it to take her where it wills - as long as it is away from the males below her.
X'hil's cheeks go slightly red as Kinseth starts to blood. There's a groan then, and a cryptic complaint, "Not /another/ one." But he doesn't really feel like elaborating. It might have /something/ to do with the recent flight over Ierne. He grumbles, and shuffles off of the cot, moving over to lean against a wall near Thea, with the side that /didn't/ get shot resting against the wall. "Now… Kinseth… He's in the feeding grounds…" He doesn't specify /quite/ what for, though he does add, "With … Seryth."
U'nar hisses again as more salve is put on his shoulders and back but he doesn't hang around the evil Healer too long. The old man slips off his cot and hobbles over towards his coat where there was a flask, but there's a stern shout from another nearby woman. "Shove it! I think this requires it, and you'd be best to keep your mouth shut." Jolly, wasn't he? And he takes a quick swig before anyone can stop him.
R'miel was normally a welcome sight to Thea? Somehow he doubts that! She was always glaring at him along with the other weyrwomen. Even his own weyrmate did that, from time to time. "Oh I just came in to see how you were doing, Thea. How's the head?" He grins to her, which might earn him a punch, but hey! He also pulls out his flask and unscrews the top so he can take a sip.
Tsaioth laps up the pooling blood from his latest kill, making sure to dip his snout and mess it around on the ground a bit like painting. Just a little something extra so that the shiny queen can recognize this otherwise plain big bronze. He warbles in surprise when Seryth takes off, making a run for the fence before his own muscles finally manage to crank up and push off, wings beating heavily. Not quite as energetic as the younger ones, but he was still eager to take to the skies and chase.
Kinseth bellows loudly, no sign of hoarseness /here/! He flexes his wings, more or less showing off, before taking down a second beast. Seryth launches skywards then, and the bronze takes off before he's even killed the beast, its neck snapping as he flies upwards with it in his mouth, and he simply drops it once he's airborne. He doesn't need it, he has /more/ than enough energy on his own! There's another bold bellow as he claws his way upwards.
Dhonzayth is draining his first beast, and downing a second, and then he's turning to set himself upon a second, but then the golden Seryth is suddenly launching herself skywards, fleeing before the coming power of the growing storm. Hesitating, the bronze waits over his beast, lingering long enough to get a second dip of that precious blood, that precious energy that will help him on his way. Still not fully recovered, the brassy bronze will rely on any outside help he can get. However, with the gold already winging upon the winds, Dhonzayth is caught with the challenge of making up lost ground. And so, body bunching beneath him, muscles rippling, he's pushing himself hurriedly upwards. The first crucial downstroke carts him upwards, and then he's slipping into the windstream, letting it carry him after the golden dawn before the storm.
Arinith spots the flicker of Rukbat hitting Seryth's golden form as she ascends towards the heavens. Suddenly the adrenaline overtakes him, and his wings unfurl instantly. THey beat down with tremendous force, lifting him skywards. Too bad he's forgotten to completely let go of the beast he was last draining. A bit of skin hangs from his jaw as its torn from the carcass that falls to the ground with a *flump*. Arinith is freed though! He shakes his snout to get rid of what's left on it, then gives a great trumpet from the back of the pack of chasers.
L'ton is glad to get off with just a glance, though the Istan bronzerider is looking over his shoulder at the others in the infirmary, shaking his head. "Don't ya'll all just look awesome.." And the uninjured Istan is smirking a bit, though he's not moving to settle in a seat - he'll not pretend to be here to visit Thea. "Dun lie, Ram.." He chuckles, even as a Healer is moving across the room, reaching to confiscate R'miel's flask, and reaching for U'nar's in turn. "No alcohol." The young woman says firmly.
Thea blinks as X'hil gets out of his cot. "He…is?" Her tone is low, a bit on the menacing side. To R'miel, she answers, "How do ya think it is? It hurts. And you're not helping it any." U'nar's flask is noted, "Whatcha got in there?" Her tone's turned wheedling. She isn't really aware that the healers are moving some of the patients out - those who were ready to be discharged anyway and placing some screens about the area. Most healers have left and there's one to supervise the area in case of injury. L'ton's comment has her glancing at R'miel, "Lie about what?" Her eyes are glazing just a bit and she sways there in her cot.
Seryth soars on the strong updraft ahead of the south-moving tempest, lightning flickers within the clouds, flashing lurid patterns across the sky, illuminating her hide in glimmers of brilliant ore. As the front pushes further, she drifts over the Sea of Asov, swept high in the sky to converge with the towering wall. Her wings stroke surely as she appears to scale the cloud-cliffs.
X'hil /does/ look awesome, yes… Ignore the patient's robe split up the back, and the obvious bandaging over his rear. Ahem. There's a sympathetic glance cast U'nar's way at the healer's reaction to his booze. "There's a tavern just across the way…" he offers, partly motivated by the memory of his last lonely flight. The less riders in here, the better his chances? Right. The man nods at Thea, not quite making eye contact with the woman. "Yes'm, he is… Or, he was… Now he's, er, flying. With Seryth." Shards, why doesn't he just /say/ what's going on?
U'nar sends his best glare towards the Healer that was coming at him. "I said don' ya dare, woman," he growls out. "Do ya have /any/ idea what's going on? Leave a man to his own link to sanity!" He makes sure to hold it up and far from the Healer, tall man that he was, and groans as his lifemate leaves the pens. He gives his head a sturdy shake and tries for a more warm smile at Thea. "The best thing you'll ever have, love," he says carefully, and then, after one big swig, holds it out to the goldrider. So long as she wasn't there to steal it completely.
R'miel peers at L'ton. "How did you get in? Hasn't your dragon got the flu? You're going to get them all sick!" The healer gets a stern look from R'miel. "It's not alcohol." Now /that/ was a lie! He stops for a second to chug down as much of it as he can, then slips the flask away. He was NOT giving away another one of his flasks. "He's just kidding around Thea. I'm just here to make sure you're doing okay."
Tsaioth's lust-filled whirling eyes were on Seryth, calling out to her with his warbling voice as he struggles to get good enough altitude. The sudden flash catches his attention instead— Shiny butt! Shiny skies. Oooh. The big old bronze wavers for a moment but something seems to snap his attention in place again, and his wings snap open to their full length to catch the wind and propel him a bit forward, ignoring the oncoming storm and letting Seryth brighten up the way for him instead. Onward!
"Well, he ain't in the feeding grounds no more. Ah'm sure ya know that by now, though." L'ton comments idly, leaning back against the closest flat surface, glancing following the removal of various patients and Healers, and the addition of further screens around this particular area, affording a bit of visual privacy, if not from sound. "Dhon's up there, ta. And, by the look on Ram's face, Ah bet that his Arin is up there too. Man, Ram, is Ysa gonna kill ya." L'ton has cheered up considerably the last few days, as Dhonzayth has begun to recover, the strain of a sick dragon having begun to take its toll on the Weyrsecond.
Dhonzayth slips sideways into a thermal, letting the strong wings fill his wings, letting nature aid him in his quest. The lightning-lit clouds mimic the brocade pattern upon his chest, the brassy bronze sliding into the leading wisps of the storm clouds. As Seryth is set aglow by that very same lightning, the still-recovering bronze hovers for a moment, entranced by the glory of Seryth's coming day, before he's setting after her again. Wings fight to carry him upwards, lifting him through the storm, through the clouds, having no fear, no hesitance in this chase. The coming storm continues to pursue them, as he pursues Seryth, calm before the storm.
Kinseth blasts upwards through the clouds, momentarily just revelling in the sheer joy of freedom! Out of the musty old barn, and into the wide open sky! He bugles a vibrant tune, and does a barrel roll, /just because he can/. There's a glimpse of a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye, and he adjusts his flight path accordingly, setting his sights on Seryth, but, shards, he's finding it hard to keep his mind on the prize, with all this open sky. There's another brassy bugle, and he refocuses his attention on Seryth, the glorious beacon that drew him out to freedom.
Arinith lets out a few more trumpets, most of which are lost amongst the bellows of thunder ringing out from the cracks of lighting. The bronze weaves this way and that, finally catching a similar thermal to give him a bit of a boost and throw him up closer to the rest of the chasers. He pushes through the differences in pressure with ease, taking advantage of anything that will get him even the tiniest bit closer to Seryth's gentle golden form. Until he realizes that he's pushed himself into a dangerous position at the center of the pack, and serves outwards slightly to avoid the wings of another chaser.
Last time she took a proffered bottle the outcome wasn't so great, but the goldie takes the flask without a moment's hesitation, Thea's hand trembling just a bit. She has her reasons. She tips it up takes a swallow and waves it back at U'nar, coughing but not complaining. Her now-watered eyes swing upon X'hil slightly and she hisses, "Not -with- her, behind her!" R'miel's voice has her peering back at him, "Good, because I've been -lied- to once too many times already." And her eyes swing back towards X'hil, narrowed slightly.
Seryth turns to peer under one wing at the males - they are closer than she thought they would be. She snarls her displeasure and flips on one wingtip to enter the curtain of roiling clouds beside her, seeking to hide. Inside tremendous forces collide with her body, turbulence warring with uplift. Moisture droplets cling to her translucent wings and cover her hide. Flashes of lightening, obscured by gray haze reflect eerily off her, giving her a pearlescent sheen and revealing her position to the pursuers.
X'hil /scowls/ as everyone around him seems to be getting boozed but him. This is /just/ like the other day, when alcohol was banned from the infirmary. /He/ wasn't drunk! But, he can't help himself, his scowly mouth starts to twitch, finally becoming a grin at his lifemate's antics, the dragon's /joy/ even more contagious than the lust. "With, behind, below… Chasing…" he grimaces. He doesn't like what flights /do/ to him, the loss of control, the over-powering lust. He's not even /him/ anymore. Booze helps. Booze helps a /lot/.
Dhonzayth trumpets at Seryth as she peers back at them, the bronze's voice cracking from the added exertion of vocalizing in addition to the strain of the flight. As she flips on her wingtip, fleeing into the clouds rather than from them, and the Istan is struggling to compensate. Running on the leading winds, he's spiraling back after a moment, hitting the storm, body taking a moment to absorb the shock. Soon enough, though, wings are finding a pattern, finding a rhythm, and the brassy hide is blending with the wispy grey cloud, a shadow amongst the shadows, the pearlescent gold guiding them like a guardian spirit through the rough skies.
Tsaioth gives a deep bugle to her snarling, making sure to give his head a playful bob at the gold when she looks behind him. His wings slice through the clouds after her, and his eyes finally notice the hazy shadows around him. They don't get more than a flick of his tail as he continues with the game, though the old bronze has begun to pant more heavily than the younger chasers. The bright lightning he ignores, his mind fully focused finally on the one true sun that's brightening up the sky for him.
Kinseth falters at his rider's rapidly changing moods, and roars, fighting to break free and flyyy! There's a brief moment of stationary hovering before the bronze manages to gather his wits about him, and then all that silly 'fun' stuff, the barrel rolls, the meandering about the sky, all of that is tossed aside. There is only Kinseth, Seryth, and the rest. He aims himself at the pearlescent sheen and simply /flies/, the flight getting towards the end, so it's now a race between Kinseth and 'the rest'.
U'nar can't help the sympathetic smile at the young goldrider as she takes a drink from his flask, snatching it back from her almost immediately when she waves it. He needs the drink, afterall. But now he hangs back, silent, and his eyes completely on Thea and no one else.
R'miel usually offers his flask to the lady of the hour. But… not with that nosey healer about he doesn't. He can drink a little afterwards or something. But he's alright for now, having taken the equivalent of 3 or 4 shots in a few gulps there. The bronzer would give Thea a pat… but he doesn't want to be bitten. "Just… looking after you. That's all.." Though it doesn't sound like he's even on this planet right now.
"Dun ya worry, Ram, Dhon's doing great. Cure's working and everything. Ah mean, he's still tired, but he's getting right back ta his old self, ya know? Ah mean, he'll be plenty of competition fer Arinith, dun ya worry about that." L'ton's not boozing, but he is talking, harassing Ram even as his gaze lingers on Thea, and it seems Ram is paying him no attention. "Besides, least *Ah'm* not drinking myself inta oblivion, cause Ah dun think this is such a bad thing." Yep, still talking.
Arinith loves a game of hide and seek! It was one of his favorites, though usually he preferred to play it in the water. It was much harder up in the air. Especially with all those males so close! Arinith manages to lock gazes with Seryth, if only for a slip second. But that was enough to give him an extra boost of will! He lets out a trumpet that sounds like it ought to come from a much larger bronze, and follows her and the group into the clouds. His weaving is gentle and controlled, done with great ease since he lacks the bulk a lot of the other chasers carry.
Seryth finds herself buoyed aloft by the currents and spat out into the cirrus-top of the thunderstorm, the feathery ice-crystals lent a silvery radiance by Timor's light. The beaded mist cloaking her hide freezes into a frost, turning amber to a crystalline champagne shimmer. Here the air is tranquil, but thin and the young queen is tiring. There's nothing she can do about the males just behind her.
Tsaioth's old voice finally falls quiet in his dry throat, only the puffing of his heavy-set chest as he breaks the clouds a little ways away from the tiring queen. What little strength he has left he puts to his freezing limbs, his wings locking, and he aims his snout directly at her to dive down in what he hopes is an easy pass through the other younger bronzes, his claws outreaching for the young queen.
X'hil is no longer here. The battle between himself and Kinseth for control has been won — and it wasn't by him. He /stares/ at Thea, the tiny part of him that's X'hil only having enough power to make his eye twitch. He can't decide /how/ he wants this flight to end, though it's unlikely he'll be in any position to fight it, whatever the outcome.
Kinseth surges forwards, pulling on every reserve of energy. If at all possible, X'hil suddenly becomes even /more/ mindless, down in the infirmary, as the bronze draws on the man's strength in addition to his own. He pushes onward, ever onward, and desperately reaches for the shimmering golden beacon. «You stayed near when I might've been ill…» he rumbles, as he lunges forwards, reaching for Seryth.
Dhonzayth fights to gain altitude, struggling against the cross-winds of the clouds, the strength of the storm, before he too is finally escaping to the top of the thunderhead, grey wisps clinging to his wings, curling in the eddies of his wingstrokes. Pushed upwards by the storm, Timor's gentle glow fades into oblivion when compared to the brilliance of Seryth's champagne shimmer. The recovering male is struggling, showing the strain, but yet, when it becomes evident that dawn is breaking, he's fighting forward, struggling to close the distance. And then, he's crooning longingly, stretching his neck, his talons his very being hoping to twine with her, to dance with her, and to ride out the storm wrapped in her gentle embrace.
Thea merely growls at 'the mob', eyes sliding closed as she is in the clouds with Seryth and helping her efforts as much as she can. She isn't aware of the movement around her or the medicinal smells or the lack of privacy, only stars and clouds and thin, cold air with fragile wings to stir them…
Arinith is starting to get battered by the increasing forces of the storm. Water was forming on his wings, back, tail, even getting into his eyes. But that was no reason he was giving up! Before he'd been relying on the other chasers to give away the thermals for him, but there was no time to hang back now and wait. He makes a push forward as Seryth starts to wobble on her pedestal, his claws extending to pluck her like a golden fruit and save her from the ravages of the storm.
Seryth is caught, well and truly snared by Kinseth! As her wings beat in futile protest against his, the pair begin to lose altitude and sink back into the storm's embrace, where they will shelter each other from the worst of the beating rain and float a leisurely course back towards the ground. Where will they land? Only the gale knows, but the mass is steadily moving them towards the Wildeness.
Arinith just can't get in close enough! By the time he's in Seryth is long gone, leaving the slender bronze to swoop down to the ground. Alone.
Dhonzayth simply can't muster the strength, the energy to close the distance between him and Seryth, and Dhonzayth is left exhausted and goldless as he spirals downwards, doing his best to avoid the storm, and to recuperate from his exertion.
L'ton took half a step towards Thea, moving in turn with Dhonzayth far above, but as Dhonzayth appears empty handed, so does L'ton. Staring blankly for a moment, he's mumbling something like 'excuse me' before he's disappearing to whatever girl he finds first.
Kinseth bugles triumphantly as he snares Seryth, just coasting with the gold, happy, and content, and /free/. He'll use his wings to support the pair only when necessary, quite content to let the wind take them where it will.
X'hil snaps back a little, now that the bronze is more relaxed, and /blinks/, quickly shifting gears into a stare, at Thea. "I… Uh…" he shakes his head in irritation at himself, and falls silent, taking a cautious step towards Thea, away from the wall. It was a flight, right? But… Thea will /kill/ him. But… /Fliiight/. He blinks out of his indecision to find himself standing beside Thea's cot already, and frowns. How did he get here? More importantly, how is Thea going to react?
Thankfully the healers leave with the last of the departing bronzeriders and the two have a measure of privacy as the few other patients left have been given some rather strong dosing to put them out for the night. They will be checked in on later. Thea's eyes are still closed as she is well and truly caught also. Her consciousness is with Seryth's and she moans softly, slumping sideways and toppling towards the edge of the cot. She is quiescent within the arms of whoever has caught her. Tomorrow may be another story when the junior weyrwoman finds out just who has won.
Next Morning in the Infirmary
Shellie scowls. "Damnit. Next time we have a patient with a proddy dragon, I want them discharged BEFORE the flight." She's berating a rather unhappy looking journeyman. "Especially when L'ton's likely to show up. And what was he doing here anyway? Cure or no cure, I thought that Ista was still under quarantine!
X'hil wakes up slowly, trying to figure out /just/ what's different to how he woke up yesterday. There's /something/, he knows it… The fact that he's half falling off of Thea's cot is barely acknowledged. "mrmf. Kinse… ah!" It hits him, and he jumps up, unusually agile for an injured man, then tries to look casual, "Kinseth." That's all he said, or was going to say, yes. There was no 'Ah!'. He scrambles for his patient's gown, throwing it on quickly, /very/ grateful for the screens, and the fact that Thea is asleep. He takes a cautious step towards the screens, aiming to peek around and see if the coast is clear, but he backs down on hearing Shellie's voice. No, the coast is /not/ clear. He glances back to Thea, awkwardly, and frowns. What now?
Cenlia and Eledri are still asleep, having been given fellis for their respective injuries. Cenlia mumbles something about booze, and raises her head groggily. She peers about, yawning widely.
Thea's eyelids flutter open before X'hil speaks, since Shellie's irate voice has awakened her. Ice-green eyes shift about with a bit of confusion, "Sery-?" she questions sweetly, voice still roughened with sleep. She spots X'hil within the confines of the screens and her gaze sharpens. "You!" She sits up, looks down and grabs the sheet. Where did her gown go? She blinks accusingly at X'hil, frozen there nearby, looking like… "Kinseth?" A one-word question, but her tone demands he answer.
Shellie scowls as the hapless journeyman asks a question. "Yes, that sharding well does include me. I don't want my sex life plastered all over the infirmary, and no one else would either. Who was it that failed to notice that Seryth was glowing and that her rider was still a patient in here? I want to talk to them now!
X'hil nods, he just /nods/, with an unreadable expression on his face. "Kinseth." he answers, affirmatively, with a hint of resignation in his tone. He is still not meeting the woman's eye. Shellie's words definitely strike a chord with the bronze-rider, he's not exactly thrilled about the location himself. "Kinseth." he mutters again, more of a quiet curse than anything.
Cenlia's gaze focuses on Shellie. She mumbles a groggy, "X'hil said she was glowin'," and then blinks, waking up fully and propping herself on her elbows. She doesn't see X'hil or Thea because of the screens. Cenlia yawns again.
Thea hrms, fingers twisting the sheet for a moment. Her face relaxes as she reaches out for her dragon's mind before she drawls, "And how is Kinseth feeling this morning? Other than obviously pleased?" For the time being, she ignores the voices outside of the screen. Not much she can do about them. She waits, her face impassive. Oddly, she's not showing either surprise or displeasure.
Shellie sighs, and dismisses the poor journeyman, then settles back down in her cot, wincing slightly as she accidentally taps the side of her chest with her elbow. She glances over towards the screened cots, but says nothing, then turns to Cenlia. "How are you and Eledri feeling today?
X'hil did say that, didn't he? Gulp. He /really/ needs to be more careful about what he says. Thea's reaction confuses him the most, probably, but he reaches for the bronze's mind, and answers honestly enough. "Tired…" And then he immediately feels the need to add a clarification, "From the flight. Exertion… He's not /sick/." Defensive, perhaps, but it's just now dawning on him that Kinseth left the quarantine of the barn. "Tired and /smug/." He murmurs, with a wry twist of his lips. So, tired, then. He looks over at Thea then, finally trying to look her in the eyes, apparently pleasantly surprised by her reaction. And confused.
Cenlia stifles another yawn and peers over at the still-sleeping Eledri and says to Shellie, "M' heads feeling better. Think Eled's still out." She sits up and rubs her eyes, saying, "Hope I can go back to the garden soon. Didn't finish potting the herbs."
Thea is silent for a long moment, holding X'hil's eyes with her own clear gaze as is pondering a move in a chess game. Huh. He has blue eyes. Who knew? With him always looking at the ground like that… Dryly she comments, "Well if Kinseth was feeling able enough to chase and fit enough to catch, he likely doesn't have the flu then." And likely the bronzer can see the weight of worry the young queen's Rider has been carrying visibly lift. Then Thea's lips twitch and she can't stop the smile, mischeif dancing in her eyes, "Not such a private place for it to happen, eh?" Almost seems like they're fellow conspirators in a prank.
Shellie nods, and sits up, then goes over to Cen's cot, grabbing a penlight as she does. She quickly examines the girl. "Hmmm. I think you're ok to go, Cenlia.
X'hil holds Thea's gaze, and then relaxes as she notes Kinseth is probably fine, taking a weight off of his own mind. "No… No. Lucky Kinseth." He won't be defying any quarantine rules again though, not after this scare. He moves over to sit - /carefully/ - on the end of the cot, and smirks. "No, not very private at all." He glances briefly to the screens, then shakes his head. He seems to be finding it all kind of amusing now. Not hilarious, just, amusing, like a private joke between the two of them. Well, four of them, if you count the dragons.
Not to mention the rest of the infirmary and probably the Weyr by the end of this day. Thea shrugs, tilts her head a bit, "You feeling all right? I mean," her cheeks flush just a bit,and she looks down at the sheet, allowing her dark hair to swing forward, curtaining her face, "Didn't hurt yourself last night or anything?"
Cenlia grins at Shellie, "Really ma'am?" The girl's already swinging her legs off the cot and looking about for shoes. Her flits chirp merrily, although the little bronze is still 'gwerring' over his pile of pebbles. Cenlia eyes him briefly, but then glances at the still-sleeping Eledri, seeming to ponder something.
Shellie stands up. "I'll take a look at him." As she goes by Eledri's cot, she pauses outside the screens. "You two are apparently feeling better, so get out of my infirmary.
X'hil frowns a little, and shakes his head slowly. "I, er… Not that I'm feeling /yet/." he mutters, apparently having entered the flight with a relatively freshly numbed rear. Though, he hasn't torn his stitches or anything, and he's able to /sit/… He glances to the screens as Shellie pauses, unable to suppress his cheeky grin. There's a certain thrill to doing something you're not supposed to be doing, or doing something where you're not supposed to be doing it. He slips off of the cot - again, very carefully - and just stands there looking at the screen. He can do this. Yes. Iiin a minute.
Eledri is still dosed on fellis, and those cracked ribs and sprained wrist are healing fairly well. The young man may have a little while yet in the infirmary, but he'll likely be up and walking when he awakens. Cenlia, meanwhile, is dressed and ready to leave, although she seems to be having some trouble getting her bronze flit off his rock pile. The gardener girl glances over at the screen when Shellie speaks, snickering a bit.
Thea shakes her head in wonderment, "Never knew when I accepted Search I'd be facing situations like this." Then Shellie's ordering them to leave. She stares at the screens for a moment, then looks back at X'hil and giggles, "So. Not like we can sneak out and pretend we weren't here. Got any suggestions?" Meanwhile, she calls out cheerily, "With pleasure, Miss Shellie. But I'm not goin' out in this here gown and I'm not goin out nekkid. Can I please have my clothes back?"
Shellie eyerolls, and goes over, grabbing both the goldrider's clothes and those of the bronzer, then tosses them over the screen in an undignified mass, before she settles down and checks Eledri. "He'll need a few more days here, but he should be ok to leave soon, Cenlia.
X'hil snickers at Thea's call for clothes, and glances to the screen. "Well, that's a start." he grins, catching as many of the tossed items of clothing as he can, ending up with Thea's clothes in his arms, his jacket and shirt at his feet, and his pants draped over his head and right shoulder. He chuckles softly, and moves the clothes to the cot, pulling his pants on under his patient's gown and his jacket over it. It's … a fashion statement? Right. "Might as well make an interesting exit…" It'd be more interesting if he'd left the pants where they fell, but, oh well.
Thea eyes the pile of clothes for a moment, blinking. What to do? What to do? "Dear I think your bedside manner could use some improvement," Thea calls out to Shellie, amusement rippling in her voice. Really, not -her- fault Seryth rose while she was imprisoned as an inpatient here. She turns her head away, so the man can at least have his dignity as he dresses. While he's doing that, she murmurs to the bronzer quietly, not caring if Shellie hears or not. "Remind me never to get sick and have to wind up in -here-, will ya?" Since she has no gown to dress underneath, she just wraps herself in the sheet, tucks the clothes under one arm and exits the screens, giving X'hil a flickering wink.
Shellie smirks. "My bedside manner wears thin when I'm a patient in my own infirmary, have to put up with drunken parties, and mating flight initiated orgies.
Cenlia nods to Shellie, though she looks a /tad/ bit disappointed that Eledri has to stay behind. Seems like the gardener won't have any help in the greenhouse. But she also won't have anyone scolding her for getting in trouble either, and the girl immediately brightens. Cenlia's blues and brown flits are on her shoulders, but the bronze firelizard is refusing to budge, growling at her and snapping when she tries to pick him up. Cenlia mutters a, "Fine, you can stay an' keep Eled company," and begins to head for the exit, but the little bronze goes after, worrying at her sleeves until the girl turns around and starts grabbing handfuls of the pebbles, grumbling, "Shoulda let Eled stuff you in a pillowcase." The girl seems to get an idea then, glancing at the rumpled pillow on her former cot, and turning to Shellie and asking, "Can I borrow that for a little while, ma'am?" Cenlia indicates the pillowcase while the bronze flit flutters about unhappily. "Just need somethin' to carry all these rocks out in." She spies Thea, then, and can't help snerking a bit.
X'hil emerges after Thea, looking /quite/ put out, and honestly kind of disappointed. "It was hardly an /orgy/. There were just the two of us!" he snickers, then heads quickly towards the exit, before Shellie can change her mind! Freedom, sweet sweet freedom! He hesitates at the exit though, looking momentarily confused. "So, uh, where /did/ the dragons end up, anyway?" he asks, with a frown. Apparently Kinseth is now asleep, or else the man would ask /him/. He snickers a little at Cenlia's odd little firelizard, in a much improved mood today. He's free, Kinseth is free, there was a flight, and he's freee!
Orgies?! Oh what one misses when in the thrall of a mating Flight. Thea peers at the healer, sarcasm evident as she asks, "Oh? What'd I miss?" She continues with a bite to her voice, "And quit overreacting, Shellie! You're a rider. You live in a Weyr. Flights happen. Deal and spare us your immaturity!" The goldie grits out, "You're supposedly a professional, why don't you act like one, huh? Take it out on your poorly performing staff." As she passes Cenlia the girl gets a wink and the bronzer a puzzled look in answer to his question. "Dunno. Seryth's alseep… uh…she's with Kinseth?" Hmm…. She moves to the door not far behind X'hil, "I need a bath anyway. I'll see the sheet is sent back. Clean." This last to the Infirmary in general. The Junior Weyrwoman stalks out. Nekkid after all, well under that sheet anyway.