Brown Dwarf Black Hole (Vig)

Xanadu Weyr - Infirmary
The infirmary here is intended for human care. It is regularly scrubbed spotless and smells of disinfectant, redwort and other herbs that are - if sometimes strong - preferable to the scents of sickness. Cots are lined up against one wall, with a set of curtains that can be pulled to give some privacy to the occupants of the cots if they so desire. They're mostly used for examinations of patients and the treatment of mild injuries that won't require long term care; near the back are some more private areas with folding dividers.
There's a number of cabinets that stand off against another wall, instruments and medications stored against when they will be needed, and a back room holds those supplies seldom required.
A desk with chair is set just off of the doorway to the caverns, meant for the healer to sit and catch up on record keeping after a long day's work or await patients. If things get too busy, the patients can do the waiting on a set of uncomfortable chairs set nearby. The other doorway comes directly from the clearing, wide enough for a team to carry a stretcher through.

"Breath, you vacuous mass." Ava hisses softly as her scalpel slices neatly through a strip of off-cut meat, her nimble fingers hurried by the sounds of the tiniest, screeching cries.

"You are the absolutely loudest-" A wail and then silence for the briefest span as a sliver of meat is shoved with her pinky into the tiny gaping mouth.

The Queen of Commitment Issues had never seen herself with one of these tiny beasts but the morning after the hatching had seen fit to bestow upon her a small taste of what the new weyrlings were experiencing.

"Are you done, then?" Ava sighs, her scalpel settling with a gentle clatter the the tabletop, a damp rag picked up in its place would wipe her hands, and then, as an afterthought, the tiny little brows face even as the many eyelids droop towards sated sleep.

A small breath huffs from Ava as she settles the rag and tends to her tools, cleaning, rinsing, sanitizing, leaving the little brown to sleep on a tower of towels. Each time she passes by though, she can't help but catch herself stopping to eye the small creature with a resistant mote of warmth blooming in her chest with each breath.


A voice of one of her fellows draws her from the trance.

"Hmm, yes?" Ava lifts her attention to the soft gaze of the fellow Journeyman.

"Before you finish your rotation, could you stop by the weyrling barracks and see if they need anything? The request comes as Ava realizes Rukbat has already risen, the soft blue of morning pouring into the windows of the infirmary.

"Sure, let me get a few things together and-" She eyes the little brown. "Make a sling for him I suppose. "

The Journeyman smiles softly, knowingly. "What's his name?"

"I think I'll call him Rukaban."

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