Prevail (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.

"How did your mother take the news?" Over the sound of rushing water cascading into the scrub basin the warm voice of the Master healer makes herself heard. Jarla is an older woman in her mid fifties, a woman of medium height and lean weight that, at her age almost leads her to looking frail, a little too much bone here, a little too sunken there. Her wizened, patient and kind expression quietly leads those around her into blooming open for her like a flower, a disposition famous with bedside chat with patients.

Even Ava, a woman who holds her personal affairs to her chest, cannot quite keep herself contained around her mentor, and the redhead glances up from where she scrubs down after surgery. A wriey smirk peel across her face as she turns off the water, hands given a little shake before a towel is plucked from the pile next to the door.

"Oh if letters could scream." Ava's eyes roll as she balls up the cloth and shoots it into the dirty hamper. "Her little green did it for her I imagine, poor Rukaban nearly crawled inside of himself when she burst from between." Ava sighs, falling in stride beside Jarla as they make for the locker rooms.

Jarla's brows lift in mild amusement. "Your poor little brown is of simple means. I'm sure that kind of lashing is one he will remember and forever associate. So, when do you leave?"

"Well, I have little to pack, so with this being my last surgery on schedule I think after all of my patients are transferred or discharged I will finally feel comfortable going."

"Oh your steady hands will be missed." A dramatic breath rushes from the older woman who looks a bit wistful now, a distant fond memory blooming once more for her. "I stood when I was younger, just once, but it was a marvelous time. I learned much and developed a new respect for dragons and riders, and ultimately, realized this is where I belong." Her head tilts down slightly then to catch the smaller Journeyman with a sideways look. "You have quite the deft hand with internal surgery. Should you not find your life mate on the sands, have you given thought to pursuing your Mastery?"

Ava presses her breath from her lips. "I had already started studying the book you lent me-I'll drop those off before I go-so I guess I have more than considered it." And then, well, this impulsive acceptance of search…Ava frowns deeply.

Jarla can see more in her mentee that the young woman voices, a skill honed by the years she has guided the little holder girl from Ista Guar though the craft. "Ava, " She starts, a gentle hand pausing them in the empty hall before she guides Ava to face her, a hand lifting her chin in a motherly fashion, "I learned as much about others as I learned about myself when I stood all those years ago. I think you need this, as much as you may see it as impulsive, yes I can tell you are cursing yourself for it-" Jarla stops Ava's words before she has little more than a chance to glare in incredulity.

"I'm serious. From what you have told me this is the first grand choice you have had over your life. Impression or not, I think this will help you figure out just where /you/ want to belong, not where you've been told to belong."
Ava's Room
It's a conversation that drapes across Ava's thoughts as she rolls her few belongings into her personal bag, her medical tools and supplies neatly packed into another. She stands for a long moment in the room, checks her bed sheets one more time, tucks her pillow into the headboard once more before a sleepy chirp from Rukaban catches her in her fussing.

"You're right, you're right." She sighs. "It's time to go."

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