Scored

Writers: Heather, Paula
Date Posted: 26th March 2015

Characters: Sh'lua, W'ser
Description: W'ser treats Galerith's Score.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 11, day 22 of Turn 7
Notes: Notes: Follows "Sometimes They Don't Come Back"

W'ser

Galerith was whimpering when they landed back to the Weyr.

** Oh, you poor baby, ** Sh'lua's sarcams was mingled with worry.
Based on what he could see, the Thread Score wasn't large but it was
bleeding heavily. It had hit the blue at the upper neck, near where
the head connected to rest of the body. Sh'lua knew there was all kind
of important things there: nerves, major ichor veins...spine. He
unclasped the straps and leaped to the ground. **They'll fix you,** he
assured his blue and gestured for the dragonhealers.

W'ser was just finishing up with a young green when he turned to see
the next dragon and rider pair landing. Even from a distance he could
make out the telltale color of the dragon ichor as he cascaded in
ribbons down the blue's neck. Readjusting one of his sleeves, the
brownrider pushed at it absently as he strode forward.

"Sh'lua, tell me what happened." He said, immediately getting to the point.

"We were just turning around to flame when he got a tail end of a
clump," Sh'lua replied and slid down from Galerith's back. "He's not
just as agile as the smaller greens. We went /between/ right away." He
walked over to Galerith's head to take a better look. They had been
lucky. It could have hit his head or muzzle too.

As W'ser looked at the generous amount of blood that was still
bubbling from the wound he was suddenly taken back to that day when he
had worked feverishly on D'ved's bronze dragon, so covered in blood
that his color was unrecognizable. He had worked tirelessly on that
dragon, and lost him. W'ser shoved his fingers through his hair. **Get
a grip, man.**

"I'll need to wash out the wound so I can get a clear picture of the
damage." W'ser told Sh'lua even as he motioned for a couple of
journeymen to assist him. "Have him rest his head on the ground so I
can reach him."

** You heard the man,** Sh'lua told his dragon.

Galerith lowered his head obediently, resting the chin on the ground.

Using buckets of water brought to him by the journeymen, W'ser began
the process of washing away the blood so he could look properly at the
wound. "Good news is that the wound itself isn't as serious as the
blood would have you think." There would need to be some sutchering
done, and the dragon would have to remain relatively inactive until
the wound closed up, but W'ser couldn't imagine any permanent damage.

"Good," Sh'lua said with obvious relief. He and Galerith had their
share of Scorings and they never got any less scary. He positioned
himself right in front of Galerith's muzzle and kept his attention by
scratching his knobs.

Using materials brought to him by his journeyman, W'ser used tiny,
perfect stitches to stop the onslaught of blood, and then the larger
wound he sutchered together. Slathering a poultice over the injury, to
keep it from getting itchy or infected, the Weydragonhealer bandaged
the dragon's neck carefully, running one work roughened hand over the
soft white gauze as he did.

"That should suffice for a while. He needs to stay grounded until
those wounds close up. Flying would open them again right now." W'ser
said as he faced Sh'lua again.

"So, no green Flights for a while, did you hear that?" Sh'lua told his
blue. Galerith made a disappointed rumble.

}:See? It was nothing serious and you fixed Galerith right up.:{
Branth comforted his rider, who Branth thought had been feeling
"unusual" on the inside ever since he lost his bronze patient.

**I know. The blood just reminded me of...** His mind flashed back to
that day again, and he quickly dashed the images with a shake of his
head.

"If you need anything just let Branth know. I'd better get back to my
other patients now." W'ser said with a friendly smile and a clap on
Sh'lua's shoulder.

"Alright, Thank's W'ser," Sh'lua replied with genuine gratitude.
** Come one, let's get you cleaned up and then some rest,** he told
Galerith.

Turning from the younger brownrider, W'ser turned and saw an
apprentice flagging him down with a pale, worried look that always
meant there was some emergency waiting on him. "Remember, take it
easy!" W'ser called over his shoulder to Sh'lua and Galerith before
turning and jogging to wear a small grin with a limp, mangled wing was
being helped from the air by her bronze Wingleader.

Last updated on the March 30th 2015

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Scored