Western Weyrings worry over Istan Sickness

Western Weyr - Weyrling Barracks
Inside the wooden building fresh air circulates from the many open windows lining the two longest walls. Outside, you can see many tropical trees and shrubs. The walls and ceiling of the barracks are made of slats that have been pegged together tightly. Overhead are beams from which electric lights have been strung. The floor is of black volcanic stone, rubbed to a smoothness that will not hurt the tender claws of young dragons.
Along each of the two longer walls are cots set up next to rounded depressions in the stone. There are enough areas available for all of the young dragons and their new riders with room to spare. At the back of the barracks are trunks with oiling supplies and bins where fresh meat is delivered until the dragonets learn to hunt for themselves.

Dylanth is getting oiled but he's getting awfully interested in his brother's supper. He licks his chomps and stretches out his head on his neck to sniff. He inches forward. G'len, who is oiling his side, inches along sideways, so intent on doing a good job that he doesn't realize what Dylanth is up to. Then he gets a sharp mental kick to his stomach. Hunger! Gotta feed, gotta feed!

G'len says,"Ouch! What?" He looks at his dragon, tunic off, barefoot, hands dripping. "Ow, oh….oh! Hold on, Dylanth! Let me finish with at least this bit and I'll be glad to feed you, Lad!"

Varmiroth swings his head around, over Kimmila's so she has to duck, to touch muzzles with his clutchbrother. Warble. Kimm sighs, exhasperated for a moment before she calms herself. "Varmiroth," she says firmly. "Food. You have to eat." The blue looks abashed, dipping his head to leave a snotty smear on Kimm's pants. She pats him with one hand while the other puts the meat into his mouth. "Chew, swallow," she murmurs, walking him through it. She smiles at G'len, "Doing okay over there?"

G'len replies, "Uh…" as he scurries along beside his dragon, spreading oil under the lifted wing, "Can you please shove something into his maw? He's watching Variroth and getting mighty hungry over it."

Kimmila chuckles, pulling out an extra hunk and offering it to Dylanth, dropping it into his mouth while her other hand fishes out more for Varmiroth. Double feeding duty! "No problem. Easy there, Dylanth."

Dylanth chomps with evident delight!
G'len says, "Chew it! Ye can't taste it if ya don't chew it first, dear! See your brother? He's chewing." Then he leans over towards Kimmila to ask softly, "He is chewing, isn't he? I mean your dragon."

Kimmila glances at G'len and then at Varmiroth. She has to check, actually. She smiles in relief to see the blue's jaws working stubbornly away at the meat. "Yes, but he's only doing it because he's gotten so distracted by that bit of dust that he forgot to swallow," she murmurs, giving her dragon a mental nudge. Varmiroth lifts his head sharply and gulps it down.

You say "Be careful when you mention dust to Halinith and Gus. FOr as big and stuffy a dragon Halinith is, he sure gets upset over dusts!" he laughs. "I hope for Gus's sake he grows out of that."
Kimmila offers both blues another bit of meat, "Oh really? I hadn't noticed that. What happens when you bring it up?"

G'len says,"He's worried about it like…like…oh what's the word…It means someone who has a lot of fear over some sicknesses or something. He's really worried about it making him sick."

Kimmila frowns, her brows knitting, "The sickness is in Ista, it's not here," she says, fear flickering in her eyes for a moment. Varmiroth reacts with surprise, instantly stepping closer to his rider and curving his body, looking around for the danger that's spooked his beloved. Kimm merphs, pushing at him, "It's fine, it's fine. No, there's no sickness here." But she gives G'len a worried look just the same.

G'len blinks. "Sickness at Ista?" He shakes his head. "I didn't know anything about that. Maybe there is a reason why he's worried. But how would Halinith know about that…unless Ae'gus told him…."

Kimmila shrugs, giving G'len a sharp look and shake of the head. 'Later', she mouths at him, turning to put one more bit of meat into Varmiroth's maw. "Back to your couch, love, so I can oil you and you can nap."

G'len nods. "Dylanth, dear……argh!" His hands are still covered with oil. He's got it splashes across his chest and stomach and arms. He slaps it on his dragon's rump in any old manner to finish off the job as best he can. "I hope N'kor doesn't see the way I'm doing this," he mutters then rushes to wash the oil off his hands beefore he can rush back to shove some meat into hungy hungry hippo Dylanth's mouth. "I'm doing to need a bath after this…if I can get something to eat first. Can you see if it's still raining outside?"

Kimmila nods, "It is," she says, glancing at the exit. Then she chuckles, "I don't think it matters how we get it on. As long as we get it on." Varmiroth steps into his bed and spins around once before flopping to his side, wings tucked against his body. Kimm begins to patiently oil him with her hands, enjoying the quiet moment with her dragon.

Dylanth chomps at something in the bucket and shreds it as his Laddie grabs is to keep him from swallowing whole. With a jerk the meat tears. He tosses his head back and opens his maw to grab it back in his mouth. But he chews and chomps till it is pleasingly juicy ang ooey, then swallows. Oh, yum! His tail wags a few times.

Kimmila continues quietly, not interrupting her task until she's finished and Varmiroth is asleep. She goes to the washing barrel to get the oil off her hands before drying her hands and arms. With another glance at her sleeping blue she drifts over to G'len and Dylanth to see how they're getting along.

G'len gets another piece of meat. "I need to get a good knife for this. I don't think this is butchered fine enough for the smaller dragons."

Kimmila peeks into the bucket and shrugs, "Maybe they want them to start using teeth and talons?" she suggests. "Or making them chew more so they don't swallow it whole."

G'len checks his fingers. "That's…what I worry about." Nothing bleeding…nothing missing.

Kimmila laughs, "I'm sure he wouldn't hurt you," she says. She puts her hands into her pockets and watches Dylanth closely, comparing and contrasting the two blues.

Dylanth finally is satisfied. He pulls his head back from the buckets and licks his chops as he steps happily back to couch.

Kimmila gives G'len another look. "When he's asleep, we'll talk," she says in a soft voice.

N'kor walks into the weyrling barracks, from the training field.
N'kor has arrived.

G'len sighs in weariness. "Why does this seem to get harder and harder each time?" He goes over to the sink to wash his hands. He washes up his arms then ends up leaning over to get his face then chest and stomach washed, too. He ends up splashing water around a bit more than some might say is necessary. But at this point he is more interested in getting clean enough to put his tunic back on and in getting something to eat for himself now.

Kimmila waits, her eyes going from the sleeping, fed and oiled Varmiroth to Dylanth, and then to G'len. "You haven't heard about Ista's sickness?" she says quietly, her mental facade cracking now that her blue is lost to his dreams.

G'len shakes his head. "No. Is it bad?"

Kimmila shrugs, "Not sure, really, just that it's out there. Dragons coughing. It's scary." She looks back at her newborn dragon with a look of pure, unadulterated fear on her face.

G'len goes over to his cot to retrieve his shirt. He gives it a shake to check for cleanliness and pulls it over his head. "That's horrible," he comments. "Can they cure them? Have any of them…?" he looks around the room and decideds not to ask. He looks for warm dry socks and his shoes instead. He wiggles his toes in the socks but doesn't seem so comfortable in the shoes.

Kimmila shrugs, shaking her head. She's standing beside G'len while the rain falls down outside, speaking in quiet tones while their dragons sleep. "I don't know. Want to know more though. Sort of haven't been paying attention and everything."

G'len ties his shoe laces then looks over at his dragon with a very serious expression on his face. "How do they get it?" he asks softly.

Kimmila shakes her head, "I don't know. I don't know anything about it but I intend to find out." Her face is set, eyes narrowed as they sweep along the barracks, noting every Weyrling present. She shudders at the thought.

The Weyrlingmaster's office door swings open finally, omitting two individuals to pass under the frame; one grinning redhead with his blond-haired counterpart. N'kor speaks in excited gestures, "Luzath will recover in four months from the operation, so I've heard. S'mal will actually be able to return to us, that's if he doesn't like Honshu better, probably in six to nine months from now - depending on if they don't have to have a second operation." There's a relieved look on his face as his shoulders seem relaxed, putting his hands on his hips, "What a day." The smile stays as he scans the morbid and perhaps frightened faces of the weyrlings. Cue the brow raise.

G'len straightens up and salutes. He's good with the salutes. But he's still not smiling.

S'uin has a few folders in hand, but otherwise looks rather delighted himself, nodding with N'kor's words as they head out of the office. "That's certainly good news.. I was pretty worried there for a while but it looks like things will be fine.." There's a softer smile though, nodding at N'kor again. "Even if they choose not to come back. It's still quite a relief." He pauses as well though, blinking somewhat at the present weyrlings as he catches the tail end of conversation as well.

Kimmila looks up at G'len's salute and offers one of her own, though she's frowning. "Sirs," she says quietly. "I," she glances at G'len, "We have a question, when you have a moment?"

N'kor regards the pair of blue riders, a slight questioning lift of his brow remains there, eyes centered on them - noticing the lack of a smile from G'len. Though it's Kimmila's question that has him moving toward them, nodding to S'uin, "Got a moment before running those up to the Weyrleader?" A touch of a nod toward the folders as they approach Kimmila and G'len, "And we'll try to give you the best answer we can. What's up?"

G'len nudges Kimmila. "You ask," he says softly.

Kimmila glances at G'len and shrugs, "The sickness at Ista, sir," she begins. She tries to keep her eyes on the Weyrlingmaster's face, but they dart back to Varmiroth, sprawled out on his side. "Should we worry?"

S'uin nods slowly, hugging the folders to his chest a bit. "Oh, well of course it can wait. Honestly..doesn't even have to be today, really.." He just likes getting things done as soon as possible. And then the questioning starts. His mouth opens though…and then closes as he comes up alongside N'kor again, giving a quick look at the other rider. Er..he'll let him answer that.

N'kor seems to straighten his shoulders back at the mention of the dragon sickness, his eyes flickering over to S'uin as if to search for some back up to this situation, but instead, he proceeds to answer in a serious but level voice, as if not to scare the weyrlings silly but to warn them: "No one at the moment knows how serious this sickness will get. We're hoping the Istan riders have enough sense to keep themselves away from other Weyrs. If not, well, we still don't know if what they have can be cured. The good thing is, none of them have gone *between*… But, you don't have to worry because your interaction right now with other riders is minimal. Myself and the rest of the assistants are doing what they can to ensure their dragons do not cross paths with an Istan dragon. It could come here, the sickness - because no one has actually restricted flights from or to Ista… and if and when it does, we'll ensure that we quaratine the weyrling fields to just Weyrling dragons, to minimalize the risk to their health."

Kimmila nods her head at the Weyrlingmaster, "Thank you, sir," she says, her expression slightly relieved. Still nervous, though. She gives him a salute and a nod to G'len before returning to Varmiroth's side, checking his hide painstakingly while he sleeps.

G'len glances at Kimmi walks away, but he still stands in place before the WeyrlingMaster. "Uh, sir?" He evidently still has a question of his own. Something isn't clear to him yet.

S'uin nods slowly. He can't help but be a /little/ worried.. After all, he does know a few people in Ista. "Yes. One would…certainly hope they keep to themselves. Xiliath herself is being..quite sure to stay away from foreign dragons at this point." Odd for such a normally social green. But he does peer at G'len a moment later, brows lifting.

N'kor rolls a shoulder, nodding at what S'uin has to add, "It's a good thing for us to keep our dragons away from theirs.. but, it only takes one to pass it.. and one to catch it.. and then it's transferred Weyrs.." He notes, flicking his gaze back toward the weyrlings, noticing that he's answered Kimmila's concerns but G'len still airs a few himself. The Weyrlingmaster tilts his head and gestures with a hand for G'len to proceed with his question.

G'len asks,"What…what happens if the dragons go Between? I thought that's what dragons…do."
Poor outsider kid. He's so innocent. He's trying hard to keep up with all those who evidently either grew up with dragons or just know more somehow.

S'uin frowns somewhat at G'len after a moment, but does decide to pipe in on this question for once, speaking softly. "What it means when someone says that..that context anyway.. The dragon dies, G'len. They go between but never come back out." He does shift just a bit, looking a tad uncomfortable at the very idea. Dragon deaths are never easy to take, after all.

The color drains from the young man's face. He takes a breath in and feels his stomach, once growling for food, go all knotty and cold. "What happens to the rider?" His voice sound all breathy and hollow.

Rea quietly comes into the Weyrling barracks, her rider's jacket buttoned up to keep out the chill as she steps in, a shadow against the noise of Weyrling bustle. Taking a moment to orientate herself in the building, it only takes Rea moment to zero in on S'uin, G'len and N'kor, passing by a few Weyrlings and giving a feeblish return salute before she catches the tail end of S'uin's comment. A slight bit of confusion crosses her face, turning to look at G'len. "Well, his blue is too young for between lessons, so I assume I walked in on a non-lesson type of conversation…" She adds non-chalant, offering a tentative smile on the rather morbid subject. "Weyrlingmaster." She addresses to N'kor specifically, a twitch in her lip as she does so, before her focus turns again to the conversation at hand, trying to catch wind of what is being spoken of, from the looks of it.

N'kor regards G'len as he's informed, seeing the reaction on the young man's face, "There's two instances that we speak of between. One is when we jump between from one place and the other, and the second," this is wher his voice does get low, "is when we speak of the loss of a dragon *between*. It happens due to rider error, dragon error, accidents, and old age. Generally, we'd all like to be on the backs of our dragons when the dragon does go *between*, because the other reality is even worse." Thankfully, a distraction comes in the form of a goldrider, whom in turn he tips his head down and replies, "Weyrwoman." Junior or not, this is his response. A glance over to G'len as he explains, "A few of the weyrlings were fearful of the sickness of Ista. I told them that they'd be my first priority to protect if it comes to Western." To this, he seems to be probbing Rea with his eyes and an inquistive lift of a rusty brow.

S'uin takes a quick look over as Rae heads into the barracks, and smiles softly a moment later. "Rae," he offers with a light nod at the goldrider, but glances briefly at N'kor as the weyrlingmaster explains their discussion. "It's not a very uplifting topic, but one that certainly needs broaching." Sickness and death, all sorts of depressing issues. "..Yes. N'kor /is/ right on that. It'd be far better to go with your dragon if that were the case but….well. It is possible to survive beyond it." Even if it might not be much of an existence.

Dylanth looks up from his sleep. Something turned wrong all of the sudden. He gets up and pads over to his lifemate and gently nudges the young man's hand. G'len feels the touch and, still watching the Officers, the Riders, slips his arms around the the dragon's neck and hugs. Then he affectionately turns his face to his dragon's neck, just behind Dylanth's neck. Dulanth's eyes whirl in a dark color but he gives a little soothing croon to his lifemate.

"S'uin." Rea returns affectionately, gripping the greenrider's shoulder in greeting before her attention is once again grabbed by N'kor's words, and the look he gives. "Certainly, our Weyrlings are the future of this Weyr, and it'll be a warm day in Between before we let anything happen to them." Her eyes are averted to G'len then, to reassure. A frown flits across her face at the mention of /that/ type of betweening. "It would never be an easy task, after a dragon betweens… but, some do it, and some… well, join their dragon." She watches for a moment as G'len is affectionate with his beast, wiping the faint frown off her face into a more happy one. "G'len, right? Dylanth seems to be growing right well… making Bennueth proud, I have no doubt. And do they ever grow so quickly… blink, and it seems they're another foot or so of neck and tail."

G'len sniffs and looks up. "He's just been oiled and fed. He did all his wing exercises today." He manages a smile for Rea, and for his dragon who wags his tail and looks much happier. "Thank you, Ma'am. He is growing well."

N'kor regards G'len side ways like, allowing the man to adjust to the idea that they could be lost between or that there was a chance one day they could get seperated forever. Silently, he shakes off a few shudders himself, though he finds himself groaning outloud, "Shells and shards. Now it's .. Theiath going up.." He flashes a look back toward the weyrlingmaster's office where there are windows to see out of, but already the call and trumpets of the bronzes and browns to chase are heard throughout the Weyr. Shaking his head, he murmurs, "Right awful timing…" A look to Rea, then back to his assistant and then to G'len, "If it matters any G'len, we ensure you're going to be fully prepared before you make your first jump between. There's a very hard test you must pass before we'll allow you to try it." A shrug.

G'len nods. "Yes, sir," he says with a quiet but resolute voice. "We'll be ready."
Dylanth wiggles a bit and gives a bit of a bugle. He's fed and loiked and happier now.

S'uin does smile at Rae's own peptalk for the weyrling, hugging the folders a bit to himself in silence. There isn't a lot more that he can say, after all, with all of the other encouragement being given. He nods though as G'len speaks up again though. "That's very good to hear. And we'll be with you every bit of the way…" The greenrider does trail off a bit though, tilting his head to peer at N'kor in surprise..and then sighs, head shaking. "Already? One after the other…"

N'kor nods, "At least our eldest batch are ready to graduate. We've only got a few stragglers.. and /all/ of them have their own weyrs." He regards all the empty couches, "We've got room for more…" He sighs, his eyes closing in exasperation, "And Nasrinth happens to want to chase. He won't make it far, I promise you that. He did a lot of flying today…" He slaps S'uin on the shoulder, "I should get out of here before I start to act strange…" he notes, nodding to Rea, "Mind if I take off with you? I'd rather not end up in a mix with Amarante. Two goldriders are enough hounding me, I don't need a third—-" he winks to Rea, totally trying to joke with her…

Rea stiffens up immediately with a distant awareness just as N'kor mentions Theiath, the goldrider's eyes jumping to N'kor as her grip on S'uin gets a bit tighter to some outter awareness. "Shells… I best get Bennueth out of here, then. You know how golds are." She rolls her eyes and sighs a bit, before looking at S'uin. "I always say greenriders are the lucky ones… no jealousy issues." Turning back to G'len for a minute, she smiles to the blue Weyrling and reaches out to give a quick rub of Dylanth's eyeridge. "Your welcome. Not like you wouldn't get a reprimand from N'kor, if not me, if you didn't take care of him… but, I doubt this group will come to that. Your all quite attentive to your new charges." She steps back a moment, looking ready to leave before N'kor catches her attention and that little twist of a smile touches her lips. "Why of course. Plenty of nice spots on the Southern continent to get lost on…" She winks and laughs, before cocking her head in the direction of the door and waves to both S'uin and G'len. "Pleasure to meet you, G'len. And well, you already know your company is welcomes, S'uin, so it goes without saying. Toodles." And she strides away, waiting only for N'kor to follow before vanishing back outside to take Bennueth away from Western…

G'len looks questioningly at all the riders now as they talk about Flight. That's what the Weyrlings were talking about the other day. But what's this now about acting strange? What has he gotten himself into? He feels Dylanth getting sleepy again and his stomach, still doing a flip-flop, is hungry after all. But he goes smile at the Jr. WeyrWoman and again says, "Thank you. Can I go get something to eat now?" He wants to know if it's safe for him to go out.

S'uin looks a bit startled at the clap to his shoulder, swaying a little under it. And then there's squeezing on the other side. Greenrider /abuse/! Still, he does look mildly..conflicted, glancing from N'kor to Rae and back again, and then simply shakes himself off. "Yes, well..I should.. Well I should get moving with these. Yes." He gestures a bit to the folders still in his grip.

N'kor flashes S'uin a look as he murmurs, "Take care of 'em will ya.. I might not return until all this .. huff is over… It's a maiden flight as I'm told.. So it's going to cause a big splash.. as it were." He shrugs, then immediately follows after Rea, trotting to keep up to her before he wraps an arm over her shoulders, already starting to feel the flight as he walks out the door.

G'len watches the Fancy Knots leave. He looks at Au'gus as if he expects him to know /all/ about what's going on, then looks over at S'uin. "Well…sir?"

S'uin blinks quickly. He got a bit lost in there for a few minutes! He shakes his head though, giving G'len a light wave. "Oh! Oh yes, of course. Please do.. I need to get these where they belong anyway."

G'len gets his dragon settled for the night. He also grabs a jacket before going out. He stops to ask S'uin a question first. "Sir, do the females rise even when it's raining?"

S'uin does look a little confused for a moment. "What? Oh..well I don't think it's ever stopped any of them before.."

G'len asks,"Have any of them ever gotten struck by lightning?"

S'uin stares at G'len a little bit, and then just offers a soft laugh. "None that I've ever heard of.. I thought you were hungry?"

G'len nods. He starts to leave then pauses to ask, "Anything I can bring you back, sir?"

S'uin shakes his head lightly, smiling. "No thank you. I'm fine." The greenrider does move then, shuffling for the door.

G'len nods, snaps his salute and heads out while his dragon peacefully sleeps.

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