Never Look a Gift-Runner in the Mouth

Xanadu Weyr - DragonHealer's Annex

An entrance way which would allow admittance to even the greatest of Queen Dragons leads into a chamber which would house half-a-dozen of the same size. To one side is a shallow pool which constantly clears itself of grime and is used is washing wounds. Nearby is a shelf with a generous supply of clean bandages and clean sheets upon stone shelves. The other side of the chamber is taken up by an alcove with multiple banks of computers to house medical records and help to diagnose illness and injury in the Dragons who come for aid. Within this alcove is a small medical laboratory where medicines and herbs can be prepared and experiments can take place. The far wall houses two dozen Dragon couches, each separated above by a rail which supports a thick curtain allowing the patients an option of privacy as they rest and recover.

Late night, nearly midnight at Xanadu and most folks have settled down for the night and are fast asleep. The annex, dimly lit for this hour, is quiet save for one person working the night shift, out of sight somewhere. For once the place has no inpatient's, might be a rarity? It's a wary Thea that makes her way into the Annex after peeking in and assuring herself that there are no busy 'healers at work. It's with a sigh of relief that she crosses the floor to stand beside the reclining queen by the incubator. Not a word spoken, aloud she merely rests her head against the gold's shoulder.

A burst of cold air in the general vicinity of dragon and rider announces the arrival of a strangely orange creature. She trills, a noise of success, and then vanishes again. Long moments pass before footsteps are heard outside of the Annex. Sigam, too, peeks his head into the building, but he writes off the lone staffer in favor of settling his eyes on Thea. "Hey, there you are," he says, eyes glittering much more dimly than they were earlier in the night. "You were in quite the rush earlier - thought you might've been sick or… well, you know." He shrugs and pads his way towards the goldrider. "Everything alright?" On his shoulder curls the small mass of orange from before, head sticking out and tilting to and fro curiously towards Seryth. Biiiig dragon.

That voice has Thea visibly wincing before turning around to face Sigam. Her eyes slide from his face towards his shoulder - perhaps a safer place to direct her attention maybe? "Hey pretty." This to Saoirse, unless she's getting good with insults. "Was I?" There's a curious look on her face as her lips curve into a half-smile, but her eyes remain guarded, "So glad I could oblige." She cants her head to one side considering him for a beat. Instead of answering his question she asks one of her own, "Hadn't seen you since you got back. Feeling better after your trip?"

Saoirse perks at the attention from Thea, rising up on her awkward hind legs to hook an arm behind Sig's ear, but she doesn't do much in response other than give a low croon. Hello yourself! "Yep. You even knocked me in the head in your rush." The wry twist of his mouth hints that he figures that wasn't /all/ coincidence. "Yeah, it's been a while. I'm feeling great, thanks. And I'm tan!" The Dragonhealer beams and flutters his eyelashes ridiculously before settling back to lean against a counter. "How're things here? Holding down the fort, I see."

That shuttered look lifts a bit as she grins at this revelation, "Oh yeah?" Her eyes don't look too unpleased at this. "Do any damage to that skull of yours?" She's leaning over to peer closely at his forearm, "Tan, huh? Are ya sure it's not dirt?" She leans back flickering him an odd look, her lips take on a wry twist, "Oh, sure. Right. Holding down the fort real well." Snort. She hesitates. Might as well get this over with, right? She takes a deep breath before blurting out, "D'had says I talked to you the other night." It comes out as a question.

"Nah, but between you, Cenlia, and natural disasters, Xanadu's going to give me brain damage," Sig chuckles, glad to see a smile back on her face. "Oh, I'm sure. I've washed several times since I got back. I don't think Eastern dirt is /that/ clingy." Tilting up one eyebrow, Sigam sobers a bit, but keeps his tone light. "Good. Someone had to, otherwise people around here get all independent, and we don't need that." Instead of diminishing, his grin widens, eyes regaining their sparkle. "Oh yes. You were talking up a storm - mostly to tell me you hadn't been drinking though. You were also flopping all over the place, amongst other things." This seems to amuse him greatly.

"Why is it that Cenlia and brain damage seem to fit together so naturally?" Thea's snickering over that and merely shaking her head about holding things down, a rueful expression on her face as she admits, "Ah, to tell you the truth? I've made a pretty big mess of things lately. Thank Faranth for Niva." She doesn't elaborate though. As his grin widens, hers fades completely as she pins him with a stare, "Flopping." Said flatly before the rest of his words sink in and she repeats, "Other things. What other things?" She seems to be bracing herself to hear it. "All D'had said was I acted sweet."

"I think it's the shovel," Sigam says contemplatively with a nod before tilting his head to one side. "Mess? I don't see how. You seem like a very neat, meticulous kind of person." Coming from Sigam, who can be the king of obsessive-compulsive organization when he wants to be, that's quite the compliment. "Flopping," he agrees, "and other stuff, yes, that's what I said." She continues and the side of Sig's mouth softens into a less fierce smile. "Yeah, you were being sweet - lots of hair scratching, lip-touching, business like that. Nothing too bad," he attempts to reassure her with a wink.

Thea has to agree about the shovel. "Well and she's not too unhandy with bottles I hear." Her grin returns at that briefly before she's assuring him, "Mess. Wrecked a sailing boat, and nearly sent Cenlia home. Paying for the boat, but Niva had to handle Cenlia." She's wincing about the flopping but he's talking about fingers in hair and - lip touching??? Her eyes fly open wide at that, "No! Say I didn't?" She mutters "No wonder he-" She doesn't finish the thought. Her eyes narrow at him, "Anyone else see all this?"

Sigam's lips flick up in a grin. "Yeah, there's that too. She's just a scary little lady," he states before sliding further against his counter. "Is that all?," he asks in the tone of the unimpressed, though his smile attempts to be comforting. "I'm sorry to hear things went so awry. I can't leave anymore, you get yourself into all kinds of trouble." The Dragonhealer looks puzzled this time, but he nods. "You did. I don't see what the problem is." He does pause to think, then shrugs. "You might've said something about kissing in the Caverns, but I think only Cen, Jeff, and I were within earshot. No one saw you touching him though."

"She is." That's all Thea says about Cenlia, but at least there's less of a pinched look on her face as she does so. "I seem to remember getting into quite a pickle, even with you there to prevent it." She's trying hard not to just snort at him, fails. She's visibly relieved at his assurances, "Have my reasons." Then she's snapping her fingers, "Oh, forgot!" And she trots over to pick up a brown paper-wrapped package lying next to the incubator. She returns and offers it to him, looking… almost shy as she does so. "Happy Turn day."

When the package is opened, there is a large, bulky turtleneck sweater of deep black, hand-spun camilid yarn, knitted in the pattern of Cold Stone Hold, with a raised criss-cross pattern that looks like trees across its front. The garment is silky-soft to the touch.

Sigam lets the Cenlia conversation drop, instead biting his lip to hold back a chuckle. "Hey, that situation was out of my control. I could've been helpful piloting the boat at least." Sigam smiles himself in response to her snort, then rolls his eyes. "That's what they all say," the Dragonhealer grumbles good-naturedly, but his interest is visibly piqued as she steps away and returns with a package. "Huh? But… you already got me… The bones," he says, jerking one thumb in the general direction of the dorms. Still, curiosity killed the cat, and is also Sigam's middle name. Or would be. Tugging away the paper, he stills, brown eyes flicking between Thea and the silky sweater in his hands. "This… is for me? Wow." His voice borders on reverent, palms stroking across the knitted pattern, eyebrows raised. "Thanks." That seems to be about all he can manage right now, heh.

Thea just grins at that, "It's always the ones out of our control that brings trouble." Well, for some people. Others? not so much. As he takes the package, she corrects him, "Body. Not bones." She pouts just a little at that, "Meant for you to enjoy a dissection. But, no, you had to run off." Her voice clearly says she's needling him about that. His question has her snickering, "Nah, it's for Saoirse. Silly. Of course it's for you. Can't have you freezing come winter. You're from Ista. Not used to our weather." She pokes him, just to shake him out of his reverence. "Welcome." And then? She is backing away, "I uh, have to go check on someone- ah, something." And she spins on one heel, dashing off before he can ask her any awkward questions.

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