A Meeting of Healers

Xanadu Weyr - Clearing

A wide clearing stretches from east to west, the ground packed hard although grass grows across most of it. Trees are strictly forbidden in this space, their danger to the constant draconic traffic reason enough to banish them to the forest that creates a this and sharp border to the north. Where the ground is less trampled, tiny flowers poke their delicate heads out from their shaded hiding places with upturned petals to wave to whoever may be looking.

The cliff looms imposingly on three sides, stretching upwards all the way up the side of the mountain where, high above, Xanadu's Star Stones and the ever present watchdragon sit on a lonely peak. Directly south is a massive tunnel, fully wide enough for even the largest dragon to fly down. Southeast are wide steps leading up to the Caverns and eastwards is the large entrance to the Infirmary. Somewhat north of the Infirmary is a human sized archway that has a frequent quantity of traffic — it leads to the Tavern. Southwest lies the low ledges currently belonging to Xanadu's queens while north and west a broad path cut by the side of the cliff leads to the Feeding Grounds and due north is the spacious trail that leads to the rest of the Weyr.

Farrah lurks on the steps of the infirmary, sunning herself. Occasionally, she raises a hand to her eyes to squint at the dragons coming in, but mostly she's laying back against the cliff face to deepen her already-olive complexion.

Phylicia is coming from the way of the infirmary, smelling not-so-faintly of numbweed. It seems the smell has been infused into her clothing from the time of late spent in the clearing boiling, chopping and otherwise brewing the numbing ointment. It may be prime sunning time, but Phy has little more on her mind than finding a sunny spot to curl up for a brief nap, and thus, basically trips over the lounging Farrah as she exits into the clearing. "Eeek!"

As Phylicia stumbles, Farrah is quick to offer an apology - and more, as the girl appears to be pitching forward. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" she apologizes, rushing to get to her feet to offer support.

Phylicia latches onto to Farrah's offered support, grinning sheepishly and even a touch shyly. "S'alright." The young girl mumbles softly, her cheeks flushing a soft rosey pink. "I wasn't watchin where I was going." Nevermind the fact the other way laying in the doorway. *cough* Phy gets herself straightened out, giving an absent-minded tug to her blouse, and a shift to her pendant to make sure it's hanging correctly. And then she blinks. "I… don't think we've met?" Is offered tentatively, holding out her hand for a shake this time. "I'm Phylicia."

Farrah's eyes widen slightly in recognition at the name, and if anything, she's even mor repentant than before. "Ah, Phylicia. I'm sorry we couldn't meet under more auspicious circumstances. I'm Farrah - the journeyman Healer who you'll be working with." She offers her hand for an introductory shake. "I do promise, I'm not in the habit of tripping people up, literally or metaphorically."

Phylicia's cheeks manage to go even rosier as Farrah introduces herself. Oh great. She just tripped over her mentor! It doesn't seem that Farrah's disclaimer of not tripping people up soothes the girl too much, and her free hand goes back to fingering the pendant as she shakes the journeywoman's hand. "Well.. well met, I think then, Farrah." She says, pausing in thought. "Or should I call you ma'am? Or miss?" Or some other title. "I hear you've been researching firehead cases?"

"Just Farrah should be fine," the woman by that name assures Phylicia, "I know it's out of respect, but the presence of a title doesn't guarantee respectfulness, and just makes things awkward." She's pleased that Phylicia knows of her work, nodding. "That I have. I've got some theories, but now I need to find the evidence to verify them."

It seems that Thea has finally broken Phylicia of automatically calling higher-ranking people than herself 'sir' or 'ma'am' finally, and getting her to call people by their names. "Well, I know there's the whole 'respect is earned' thing, but I figure if you were willing to take me on to help get me back out of the Hall.." After being rather rudely wisked away "You've already got good marks with me." She says with a friendly smile. And the senior apprentice sits, making herself comfy on a more out-of-the-way portion of the stairs. "Do I dare ask now, or should it wait for later?" She asks, half laughing. It sounds like the explaination could be a longer one.

"I'll try and give you the short version," Farrah prefaces, although 'short version' is an ambiguous term when it comes theories. "I suspect firehead is caused by some kind of parasitic agent, but I'm not sure what that agent is, or on what vector it gets transmitted. So it's sort of a needle in a haystack," she surmizes, with a sigh.

Phylicia blinks, looking up at the journeywoman for a moment. The look of concentration on her face says she's thinking about what Farrah said, and is trying to put it in slightly simpler terms for herself. "That would.. make it a bit hard to isolate, wouldn't it?" She asks slowly, as if she's still thinking. "I also heard R'zel took you out?" She ventures a little further. "Did that bring up anything?"

Farrah shakes her head, her lips pressed into a thin, frustrated line. "No, we didn't manage to find any current cases. I did take some blood samples, hoping that I might find the parasite, but so far nothing has come up. If we could find a current case…" She gets a whistful look in her eyes, revealing her pipe dream of the moment. "Of course, there are other potential causes: allergy, contagion, environmental…"

"I'm not getting sick for you." Phylicia says, though her tone is more teasing than serious. She wasn't honestly expecting that Farrah would purposefully try to give her the illness. "Even if there was a way to get it a-purpose." She crosses her ankles at this point, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her lower thigh, while resting her head in her hands. "I'd think it'd have to be partially environmental?" She offers. "You never hear of people in the north contracting firehead."

"No," Farrah agrees, "Thank the powers that be, it's not passed from person to person, and I don't think it's likely to be." She nods her approval as Phylicia notes the confined range of firehead. "Whatever it is, it seems to be limited to the south. I think that it might have an animal vector - something that lives down here, but not up North, and something small, since most people don't seem to connect that contact to their illness."

Phylicia looks thoughtful for a few more moments, before she leans back, trying to dismiss it from her mind for the moment. "I think the numbweed fumes have all gone to my head." The senior apprentice chuckles softly. "My brain just isn't coming up with anything." It's all gooey, her brain. "Well, I can keep myself alert for any such messages. M'nol would take me in a heartbeat if he's available."
Farrah approves of this plan, too, although she reminds Phylicia, "Just because you're working for me doesn't mean you have to get dragged out the jungles. I understand that, as an apprentice, you've got a great deal to learn in addition to helping me out. Your studies come first," she finishes, although whether that's in understanding of Phy's situation or an admonishment at the mention of M'nol is ambiguous.

"Of course!" Phylicia's response is too prompt and almost-heated for it to be faked. "The only time I've missed a lesson is well… I had some sort of a stomach bug." And that was before she had met M'nol even. "Although if I don't have a lesson, it might be interesting to come with you one time?" She offers slowly, hoping that the journeywoman might agree. Afterall, how better to learn how to treat than actually treating it? "I can also send Ciaran or Estevan to you, if I hear of something and I'm busy." And after a few moments pass she sighs, staring out at the sky. "Does it ever slow down at least? The learning? Sometimes I feel like my head is going to explode."

"Oh, you're more than welcome to come," Farrah reassures Phylicia, "I was just making sure you didn't feel obligated. Not everyone appreciates camping." Phylicia's last question gets a little smile, and she makes a thoughtful noise before replying, "The facts? Those do slow down, a bit. The beginning is sort of cramming all of that Healer knowledge into yourself. But the lessons in actually Healing - the kind you only really get by doing it - those, I'm lead to believe, go on forever."

Phylicia smiles warmly, thinking she'll like working under Farrah. For the most part at least. "I don't mind camping really. I like spending most of my time outside, if I can." Oh it's true. Occasionally she might be found in a tree, even though there are remarkably few scrapes on her arms and legs to show for it. And then she grunts softly. "Cramming. I think that's why they pulled me back to the hall 'fore my promotion." She taps one of her temples. "Make sure it's all crammed in properly." She was certainly kept busy enough for that to be plausable. "Hopefully I'll get to treat people more, now. The most I usually get to do is fetch the numbweed, or hold the towels." Or some other menial little task which gets assigned to the apprentices.

Farrah's head bobs sympathetically as Phylicia talks, unloading her frustrations. "It really does change, once you walk the tables. One moment they're talking about how it's such a liability to let apprentices practice, and then they're giving you infirmary shifts as a journeyman not a week later. And let me assure you," she adds, with a wry smile, "you're not more capable after than knot than you were the week before."

Phylicia's eyes turn towards Farrah and the girl smiles again. "I mean really. Why can't we treat the silly little cuts that come in?" She asks, a small whine to her voice. "Keeping us from head injuries, and the serious things, yes. /Please/ keep us away from those 'fore we hurt someone on accident!" For being just over 15, the girl seems to have a rather sensible head on her shoulders. Mostly. But then she sighs. "But I'm only 15." Oh, now /that/ didn't sound like a pout. "Never heard of anyone walking 'til they're like, what.. 20?" And five turns is an awful long time to a teen.

Farrah chuckles at Phylicia's whining, having been in that position none too long ago. "Sometimes you get an old Master who's a stickler about age - and there's always the 'no one should walk any younger than /I/ was when /I/ walked' attitude - but if the consensus is that you're ready, then the number of Turns is just… a number." Which is easy for the young journeywoman to say.

Phylicia gives a wistful sigh at Farrah's last comment. "I can only wish." She says, her smile turning wistful as well. "If I'm lucky, 'nd things go good, maybe I'll walk a little on the early side." Oh, as if. She can keep dreaming. There's silence for a few long moments, before Phylicia changes the topic slightly. "What's your speciality?" Comes from the apprentice softly. "I know you're researching firehead, but what does the Hall have written down?"

"I believe the official title is 'Infectious Disease'," Farrah answers Phylicia vaguely, her gaze turning upward and inwards as she tries to recall. "It might be under the trauma/diagnostics discipline, but I think that's about as specific as I got. I… don't prefer to work with patients, on the front lines, so to speak. I'm much more comfortable with the abstract."

Phylicia's grin widens. She's heard of a few healers who have no patience for patients, but had never really met any, unless her instructors count. "Well, someone needs to try and understand them." She offers supportively. "Anyways, some of the patients are just whiners, no matter how you treat them." Pamper them like a lord or lady holder, and they'd still complain, merely because they're in the infirm.

Farrah makes a face as Phylicia continues to talk about patients. "And even if you do treat them well, and tell them what to do, they never /do/ it - and then get angry that they're not feeling better."

"Patients!" Phylicia sums up likely both of their feels of exasperation, though hers is tinged with amusement. At least fellow healers can understand the irritaiton of dealing with people who don't follow directions or ask extremely stupid questions. "I've been trying to find someone who /really/ knows plants well, but it's been hard." Aka, no one found yet. "I haven't officially declared a speciality with the Hall yet.."

Farrah snaps her fingers as she finds a quick solution to this current problem of Phylicia. (Patients, as a problem, are far too intractible.) "There's a man here, Ten… Ten-something. Also known as Fetch. Ask around for either, someone will be sure to know where he is." The name isn't of consequence to Farrah. "He's got a wealth of knowledge about herbs."

Phylicia perks up as Farrah tries to recall the man's name. She's been out of the loop just long enough where she's missed the comings and goings of people like Tenebrous and Farrah. "I think I might be better off with 'Fetch'." She then chuckles softly, leaning back. "Not too many healers seem to specialize in just herb-lore. D'you think they'd ask me to choose two?"

"They might," Farrah warns, with a slight shrug - the decision's beyond her realm of knowledge. "What else would you be interested in? Usually, the herb lore kind of fits in with a certain set of diseases, or ailments."

It's Phylicia's turn to lift her shoulders in a small shrug, looking a little sheepish. "Part of the perk for herbs is that they're outside. So I could pick - ah, harvest - them when I go out." Simple things like lavender and some of ther herbal remedies which work when they're dried, or infused in tea. "I was almost wondering if anyone's tried to grow 'em in a controlled manner, instead of having to go out and about to find them."

Farrah studies Phylicia with an eerily intense gaze, the girl becoming the object of her scrutiny. "I've done something like that with some herbs - mostly cooking herbs, like you mentioned. Lavender, chives. Hm." With that noise, she goes thoughtful, relieving Phylicia of her gaze. "But it would be nice if we could keep some more of the exotics close at hand."

Phylicia nods, shifting a little under her gaze. "That was kinda my thought. In case of emergencies, and the like." And she smiles slightly, looking a bit pensive. "It's nice that cooking herbs and healing herbs overlap a /little/ bit." But that's just about as far as her current knowledge really goes. She does have learning left to do. "Something to think on. For later."

"Mm." Farrah is quiet and pensive now, her brain sapping the energy for speaking. "If you would like," she begins, after a pause, "you can help me prepare the plants I'm finding for shipment back to the hall. I'll need detailed records of exactly where they were found, and what they look like over the seasons, as well as several preparations - dried, tincture, tea, the like. Would you be interested?" She extends the offer, watching Phylicia's face for her decision.

Phylicia blinks, looking at Farrah for a few moments, before a grin splits her face. "Yeah!" Is also she says at first to agree to the deal. "Do you just need help recording, or are you going to need help finding them too?" She asks, interest making her eyes shine. Her smile is still almost ridiculously wide. "Basically, if you either show me or tell me what to do, I'll do it."

Farrah mirrors Phylicia's grin, telling her, "I think you know more about herbs than I do, so I'm relying on you to help me identify them - or rather, to identify what you can't identify. Anything novel, and we'll take it back for examination." She picks her next words carefully, deciding how best to use Phylicia. "Perhaps it would be best to start with some standard preparations - just to see the differences in our technique." To ward off any feelings that she might be skeptical of Phylicia's ability, she adds, "Who knows, I may be rusty in my methods."

Phylicia's cheeks start to flush at this point in time, though she's perfectly capable of undermining her own abilities by herself. "I haven't ever really prepared anything much." She offers up willingly. Its best that the healer knows what she's getting in Phylicia, rather than have it being a surprise. "I've been allowed to set up tinctures under watch every now and again, but they haven't allowed me to go out harvesting much." Her cheeks get a little rosier, nearing red. "I only have pictures in my head to go off of." Which isn't a very good comparison to the real thing, sometimes.

"Talk to Fetch," is Farrah's confident recommendation. "He'll no doubt be able to show you some samples, and even perhaps where he goes to harvest them." Frowning, she adds a caveat: "Although I'm given to understand that this tends to be something of a closely-guarded secret, among the herb lorists." The flare of her nostrils gives a sense of her annoyance at obstacles to Science.

Phylicia purses her lips together for a few moments, until she offers a small smile again. "Maybe its for the safety of the plants so they don't get over-picked?" She suggests softly. "You pick too much, and it dies, and /then/ where are you?" Square one is where. Abrubtly she stands up, taking a few steps to take her off of the steps. "I actually have to run and get something before the next lesson begins." Her tone is almost apolegetic as she smiles again. "But it's been nice meeting you, Farrah. I think I'll enjoy studying with you."

Farrah gives Phylicia a thoughtful inclination of her head for the apprentice's wise idea about conservation. "Likewise, I think this will be a sound partnership. Please, don't let me keep you overlong - and if there's anything I can help you with, lessons-wise, don't hesitate to let me know." She resumes her previous sunning position, although she takes care to scoot to the far edge of the stairs.

Phylicia's smile widens as she starts to turn. "Well, I think after this next lesson I'll have to try and find this 'Fetch'. After that, we'll see." And on that note she finishes turning, before moving towards the forested area at a trot, a brown 'lizard popping out of *between* to land on her shoulder for a moment before taking off again, nearly clipping the girl in the head with a wing.

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