Half Moon Bay Weyr - Infirmary
This long, rectangular cavern smells faintly of antiseptic and strongly of pleasant medicinal herbs. The general atmosphere is one of bustling but orderly quiet and strict cleanliness. The back of the room is dominated by a small hearth for heat and medicinal preparations and by swinging double doors that lead to a small DragonHealing bay, an emergency surgery for human patients, the main storage, and the staff area where Healers can eat, shower, change, and the like during their longer shifts. The front of the room is a waiting and reception area where patients and staff can check in to receive treatment and begin work, respectively. The east wall of the room features examination, birthing, recovery and outpatient treatment rooms while the opposite wall is curtained off to provide privacy and bed-space for patients requiring overnight care.
Western can certainly handle most of the routine and sometimes urgent treatment needs of its residents here. It lacks some of the equipment available at the main Healer Hall. Once they are stabilized, patients requiring specialized or ongoing care are surely transferred there.
Does Heryn EVER wear a shirt?! One does wonder, does not one, though at least this time it's not at all his fault. Instead, it's the fault of the monstrous bruise taking up a good portion of his left side. The tell-tale white crescent has faded, but rumor (read: complaining) has probably gotten around that Heryn had been kicked by a runner several days before. Ugly purple and red mottling colors his ribs, as well as as one cheekbone, both replete with a sickly yellow edge that implies he'll probably live after all as it begins to heal. Still, he's here, and not looking at all happy for it, having likely arrived under some form of duress or another. CoughcoughCitacough.
NO, HE DOESN'T. HE JUST GOES AROUND MAKING MEN FEEL LESS MANLY. Pritkin is not here to nurse wounds, receive treatment, or seduce the nearest healer with his look-at-me-and-my-manly-bruises shiftlessness like /some/ people (HERYN); Pritkin is here because he /has/ to be. That's right, /has/ to, as in the Choreboard told him so; as in he probably doesn't want to be here at all because he /hates the smell/; as in he really hates that Heryn is decidedly some form of incubus and reduces his manhood by an effective 90 percent every time he decides to exist in Pritkin's immediate vicinity and Pritkin /can't/. /leave/. The blonde is at the mercy of another healer for now, doing footwork to stock up stores before she remembers that he's even there and dismisses him in a way that would be rude if she didn't look so busy. And so Pritkin, for the moment, has free time and decides to use it on Heryn - what is privacy in a weyr? This guy doesn't know. "Are you alright?" he asks, and green eyes are on that smattering of not-so-great looking color with - gasp - genuine concern. Don't worry, his observant eyes are clinical at best, and he's keeping a respectable distance from his fellow candidate.
Cita, on the other hand? Cita has a day off, and this is. This is her down-time. She's here *willingly*. The healer looks perfectly in her element too, white knot and all, conferring quietly with Pritkin's supervisor further away. There are some nods, a few severe looks, and then Cita's squaring her shoulders and moving away. Right towards Heryn and Pritkin. Get out while you can! The candidate's eyes are alight with what is very possibly rage, and her shoulders are stick-straight as she squints at Pritkin. There's a witness. So maybe some sort of Healer Beatdown isn't going to be forthcoming. "Pritkin. Are you learning anything? Other than how to wrap dressings." A brief smirk, and then the Look is turned on Heryn. "You're fine. No lasting damage. Odd, I didn't know you were a healer, who could make that decision all on your own." There's a beat, and Cita kind of twitches. "Broken ribs, punctured lungs, perforated bowels — it must have been quite a feat, diagnosing yourself as not having any of those common complications of severe trauma. Impressive."
Bless his heart, but Heryn is completely oblivious to all potential succubus-tendencies, and if more looks than one get shot his way by Pritkin or anybody else, he totally doesn't notice it. In fact, the man seems rather caught up in his own misery, likely having been drug here during his own free time as well because— There's the reason now, standing over there conferring with Pritkin's supervisor as the blonde candidate approaches him. Likely ignoring Citayzleat for the moment in the hopes she'll forget about him and he can eventually slink out (HA!), Heryn lifts his chin in greeting as Pritkin moves into the range of his view. "Hey. Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. I got kicked by a runner a couple days ago. Looks ugly, but it doesn't hurt near as much now," the chatty bartender replies. His mouth opens, perhaps to add more or ask questions in return, but brisk movement in his peripherals draws the line of his gaze, whatever he was about to say shifting into a low, "Uh oh, run man, runmanrun—" Too late! The candidates's jaw clacks shut when Cita draws up within earshot, and oh hey, maybe she wasn't here to yell at him after all! And then comes the Look. Have you ever seen a grown, six foot three man try to make himself look small? No? Well, Christmas is here early, kids, because boy does Heryn try, shrinking slowly for each thing added onto that diatribe. Guilty blue-grey eyes skirt over towards Pritkin, but he at least has the sense to not start flashing the neon 'HELP BRO' sign in their depths just yet. Instead, he takes a minute to look abashed, muttering a low, "The Beastcrafter said I was fine?" towards Cita. Hooboy.
"/Faranth/, and that's the worst of it?" Pritkin is not downplaying the damage, but is aware that getting kicked by runners is the very last thing that some people do. Ever. When Heryn is telling him to run, brows furrow together in confusion as green eyes follow the trail Heryn's are making to — Dun dun. Dun dun. Dunadunadunaduna DUNDUNDUNDUN. CITA-ATTACK! That's pretty much the soundtrack of Cita's approach (in Pritkin's head, anyway), with her severe looks, and her square shoulders, and her impossibly intimidating presence that leaves Pritkin feeling just as lacking as Heryn's shirtlessness does. His first intelligent response is: "Uh…" as he gives the woman a smidgen more space. "Yes?" The last sounds unsure because he /is/ unsure. "I'm trying to anyway," he amends, as his attention drifts back to Heryn, The Cowering Adonis, with some suddenly masked emotion that could very well be amusement. It could /also/ be a look that says, 'Remember when a scary bronzerider kidnapped me and you did nothing?', but couldn't possibly be, because that would be accusatorial, and Pritkin looks far from accusing. Lucky for all parties involved (probably not), Pritkin doesn't need bat-signals or flashing neon signs to come to the rescue. "Well, he did walk out of there…" Pritkin points out, 'helpfully', and then there's a ghost of an amused smile for Heryn. "Good man."
Sundari is making her way on into the infirmary looking a bit like perhaps she lost a bet. Her clothing is a mess, dirt and grime sticking to her flightjacket, not to mention she looks a little bit bruised and batterd in a few places that are hidden under her jacket. A hand is used to try and work at her hair, pulling a few twigs out and eyes them slightly before a faint grumble escapes her. The rider pauses and she blinkblinks before catching sight of the 'threesome' and just eyes them a few moments. "Honestly Heryn… Your shirt is off more then D'nyl's." Which she likes, not that she is complaining at the moment, but that is not the point! She moves on closer towards the three, a bandaged wrapped around her left hand that goes up under the jacket sleeve it seems. "Dare I ask what happened?" A glance is sent back to the door as another entes, this time one of the Weyrlings that looks just a beaten up as Sunny does at the moment. His moaning though and Sunny just glowers a moment. "S'en go lay down and close your trap, your walking after that crash which is darn lucky."
Citayzleat, on the other hand, swells up with rage. Yep. Definitely rage now. Or maybe supreme indignation, but the effect remains the same: thank Faranth laser eyes aren't a thing. "The beastcrafter." In contrast to the fact that she seems to have expanded into some sort of healer-balloon of rage, her voice is very soft. "The beastcrafter said you were fine. Is that right?" Cita murmurs, like she might actually be considering it. Except for the twitch, which has returned. The twitch is turned on Pritkin, now, bless his heart. "He walked? Oh. Good." Back up! She's gonna blooooowwww! "What's the name of the beastcrafter who fancies themself a healer? Clearly, they need remedial training in recognizing when it's appropriate to send an injured individual to the healers." Or maybe not. She's still quiet, shoulders so stiff they might actually break right off of her spine pretty soon. The arrival of Sundari and a Weyrling do, at least, distract the healer. Mostly because somebody wearing a master's knot comes shuffling over to deal with the Weyrling, nodding towards the Weyrlingmaster for Cita. The boys are safe: for now. Maybe. "Have you been tended to, ma'am?" Cita asks, looking concerned, hovering just a step or two away.
There's a bit of quiet grumbling that preceeds Venryk's entrance into the infirmary. Or more like a repeated series of 'ow's and an awkwardly lopsided gait, courtesy of one missing sandal. A sandal which he's carrying by its traitorous broken straps. But the blood! Oh, there is that, if only a little at the knee. Yes, it would appear that the candidate fell down at some point, and he doesn't look particularly happy about it. He pauses though at finding more people than he bargained for in the infirmary, brows raising ever so slightly. It's Heryn though that he focuses on, catching the tail end of Cita's rant about beastcrafters. The hand holding the broken sandal lifts, waving the footwear at the bartender. "You're /here/! Don't tell me…you're dying. I knew it, you're dying, all your organs are bleeding out inside and this is the very end. I /told/ you this would happen." Oh yes, he's /seen/ all this bruising. The fact that Heryn is looking more on the road to recovery is simply brushed right on aside. There's a sigh though as he makes his way through, casting a look into Cita. "Be gentle with him! ..Though I gotta say I'm kinda impressed it's taken him this long. I mean..most people die a little quicker than this. I think?" He finally comes to a pause near Heryn's side, trying to take a peek at the bruising..more at his face than the obvious kick mark at his side. "So..wow, that's colorful. And you're right though…it /does/ look more interesting now." The fact that Sundari and a Weyrling are there, however, are a cause for major distraction, staring just a bit at their..rather broken state. "What happened to Heryn? What happened to /you/ guys? Wow, you look awful. And..well I mean that kindly, of course. But /awful./" The young candidate shifts around just a bit then, before hurriedly nabbing Pritkin by the arm, giving him a tug. "Could you hand me one of those cloths so I don't drip blood all over the floor? That'd be really really great, and I'd be really grateful." Apparently the fact that his knee hurts a bit is utterly forgotten by now.
It's just plain Heryn's lucky day, because here comes the Weyrlingmaster, too! Heryn winces for the woman's eyeing, tongue flicking out in a very immature response for her teasing. "Tell D'nyl to keep up," he quips, because he has to sass somebody, and clearly it isn't going to be Cita. Eyes widen in a very ix-nay gesture when Pritkin decides to weigh in and help him, head shaking ever so slightly as though to say 'that's not the kind of help I wanted!' Abort, abort! She's gonna blow! "I— uhm, yes?," is said as meekly as the bartender has ever meeked, and here comes the word vomit, going off swiftly and rapidly enough that he's sure to make the approaching Venryk proud. "I mean, he works with the runners, so he knows when things will be fine, and I mean, you said yourself that I am fine so he was right, and he told me to leave off the rest of the day and go rest so I didn't hurt myself and I did-" with notable exception of getting himself punched in the face, but nobody need know that "-and— remedial training? But I'm fine." It's be a lot more convincing if he weren't still sulking, shoulders up to his ears and eyes askance by the time he finishes with a huff. Stormy blue eyes focus on Venryk's hobbling instead of the weyrling over there, brows knitting when the younger Healer draws up to his side to peer at the bruises on his face. "She found out," is his grumbly explanation for Ven, "And I'm not dying." Well. Not yet. Cita might just kill him, though. "What happened to you? You okay?" Quick, deflection!
No 'Threesome'. What Sundari is seeing is an Aphrodite, an Adonis, and a… well… /Pritkin/. Pritkin with his unfortunate hair, and his unfortunate nose, and his unfortunate timing. When Cita rounds on him, Pritkin's hands come up along both sides of his head in a sign of absolute surrender. "Well, I mean… I don't know for sure that he /walked/. I wasn't there. But he…" A pause, a sideways glance at Heryn, who is trying to warn him off, and then a feeble, "You're right." BRO-TRAYAL. And now a Venryk, who is talking 100 miles per hour and earning an incredulous side-eye from the older candidate as he limp-hobbles and bleeds /everywhere/. "Did I miss a memo?" he inquires quietly, because green eyes are observant enough to note Sunny's shape, and a weyrling's shape, and now Venryk is just adding to the seemingly infinite number of not-quite-casaulties-but-still-not-looking-good residents. But his arm is grabbed, and he's retreating to gather that requested cloth for Venryk, which his handed over but nothing more because /he/ certainly isn't a healer.
"I'm fine." Sundari offers, well perhaps she is but right now she isn't in the mood to be worried over, she is sore and bruised and her arm is throbbing which leads to a grumpy WeyrlingMaster. Take notes kids for if you get a dragon you get to deal with her all the time! "S'en's dragon banked wrong, slammed into Irk and we all crashed." Thankfully it wasn't that far to the ground. Though they all know what happened. She sends an amused look to Heryn and she chuckles softly. "I'll let him know that." Is said with a teasing tone. Back to the matter at hand… Well up until Venryk is here and bleeding and she lifts brow. "Honestly is it crazy accident da here at the Weyr?" Her left hand is lifted and she rubs at her eyes a moment. "You lot know that if your severely hurt your not be allowed to stand when the eggs start to hatch?" As for Cita she nods slightly and points her to Venryk. "Help him first if Heryn is going to live a little longer." She'll then move to take a seat right next to Heryn, because SHE CAN. "So… A runner huh?" She peers at the bruises a bit amused like and then looks to Pritkin. "You was around when a runner kicked the crap out of him or just came in to help your brotender out?"
Cita, scarier than the Weyrlingmaster. Score! She seems to poof up even further the longer Heryn's speech goes on, throat working even as Venryk approaches and something like responsibility settles on her shoulders. He's younger, and a Healer, and really she shouldn't be thumping patients and fellow candidates soundly, right? So she takes a breath. "A healer is the only person who can tell you whether you've broken your ribs." And if her voice shakes a little with the effort to *not* yell like a crazy person, well. Pritkin's surrender is noted, but she doesn't back down, still frowning thunderously at both of them, and now Sundari too. "Or have dislocated a wrist, or fractured anything in a *crash*." Faranth Help Citayzleat. Somebody, anyways. "She found out?" Between that and Venryk's rambling, Cita's scowl disappears briefly in confusion — for a moment she looks like she can't decide between hurt and more rage; practicality wins out in the end. The younger candidate is the one bleeding, indeed, so she sighs and if Venryk doesn't keep hold of it, she'll snatch the cloth, gesturing for him to sit down on the bed across from Heryn. "Can you fetch me a put of numbweed, please, Pritkin. Green cap, on that shelf." A beat, waiting, and she turns back to the Weyrlingmaster. "They're fine, ma'am. Scraped knees and bruises aren't debilitating." Not that they'll necessarily *continue* to be…
"What, this? Oh, I'm fine." It's the story of guys in the infirmary, apparently. Everyone is always /fine/. Although in Venryk's case, it's really true. Sure, there's blood dripping down his leg, but the wound itself isn't anywhere near a major one. A wide-eyed look is leveled on Sundari though, staring at the Weyrlingmaster. "I don't need tending, believe me. I'm a healer, too!" A fourteen turn old, barely trained one, but still. That broken sandal is waved in Sundari's general direction. "You look like you need seeing much more than me. I can manage a quick bandage, I promise you that. You look like you're one tumble short of being strapped to a bed and wrapped in all sorts of bandages for the next three months!" Once a cloth is handed to him though, a quick grin is leveled on Pritkin before nodding to the guard-candidate. "Thanks! Let me just..yeah. Right over here." There's a bed that's being gestured to, after all, although he's a bit reluctant to relinquish his hold on the cloth. "I'm really fine, Cita. I mean, I can handle /this/ much, right? It's just scraped up and—oh I really don't even need the numbweed. Come on, now.." Alas, he does give up the cloth eventually, resigning himself to the care of someone a bit more learned than himself. He finally does drop the sandal though, pointing at it for Heryn. "/That/ thing. I was in a hurry, and the straps snapped. Next thing I know I'm hitting the ground knees first and limping my way up here for cleanup. Which, by the way, is what one /does/ when hurt." There's a meaningful /look/ given at the bartender for that, eyes roaming over the bruised torso. Mmmhm. Still, there's a bit of a laugh in the boy's tone, shaking his head. "Don't worry, ma'am. I'll make sure not to chop off any limbs or anything. Just one of those things that happens when you've got a bunch of people all running around, doing things. Someone's bound to fall down and get a little banged up, but all in all everything's just fine. One little bandage ought to do the trick and it'll be good as new. Well, new and /sore/, but still good. /Pritkin/! Isn't working in the infirmary fun?" Yeah. Sure it is.
If Heryn's Adonis, and Cita's Aphrodite, then Pritkin is Sisyphus, or maybe Medea, going around betraying bros left and right! There is a definite playfully-stabby sort of glance for the guard as he throws him under the metaphorical bus, the bartender uttering a wry, "Yes. It was right on the choreboard. 'Obtain injury, report to infirmary.' However did you miss it?" Cheeky! "Yeah, I know," is mumbled when Sundari reminds them that they can't stand if they're severely injured, "but I'm not! I'm totally fine and I mean, I would have just… suffered in silence if only I'd been a little faster changing my shirt this morning." Heryn lets Pritkin explain why he was here for Sundari if he wanted as the Weyrlingmaster sits right next to him, the scootching to make enough space for her to get checked out too, because it's only a matter of time. As for Citayzleat, well, there's only so many times he can be chided by his fellow candidate before he sighs out a vaguely irritated, "Okay, Cita. You're right. I admit it, I was stupid. From now on I will report any and all issues with my person directly to you." Heryn just might actually flinch for that cross-emotional look she gives him, but he doesn't back down, instead offering Pritkin a staying hand when the older Healer sends him off to get numbweed. "I got it." His own shoulders are a little stiff as he pulls them down from around his ears as the bartender slides off the bed and stalks off towards the indicated shelf. He's not totally angry or anything, offering Venryk an equally mature 'thhbt' for that sandal-pointing as he passes but clearly he needs a minute, here.
Stabby-playful-looks earn husky laughs. "Might not have missed it if you didn't go around being the Shirtless Distraction Wonder all of the time," Pritkin retorts to the bartender, but there is nothing malicious in his tone. It's pure and utter amusement with a hint of teasing as he fights the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's a wonder /any/ of us get anything done." Green eyes blink to Sundari, and Pritkin offers up a small smile to the bluerider — a hint of mischievousness in that quick glance. "Neither," he admits. "I am here because it was my assigned chore today — and Heryn looks like he's doing just fine." A glance is given for Cita, who still looks murderous, and he winces at Sunny. "Though, for how much longer, I don't know. She might do him worse than the runner at this rate." Then Venryk is saying his name, and Pritkin's attention is clamoring in that direction as Venryk asks him if he /likes working in the infirmary/. Give him a moment, maybe two, and then Pritkin is laughing as he breathes an exasperated, "I'm stuck dealing with you lot. It's /interesting/, but I wouldn't call it /fun/." It is fun. And emotional, apparently — Pritkin sees the cross-look on Cita's face and his brows furrow as if trying to think of something. But then Cita is asking Pritkin for some numbweed, and because he's already on the receiving-end of her glare, he moves with a purpose to retrieve the requested concoction - until he is waylaid by Heryn. Manly Heryn, who just goes and exudes more manliness by doing other people's chores while he's hurt because /that's what men do/. They just keep going. And guess what? Pritkin lets him, because BROS, THAT'S WHY.
Sundari will be scarier later on if this lot is able to get a dragon that is. A soft him is all that escapes her as she hears Cita. "I'm sure." She offers softly. "I've had worse honestly, I'll live for the moment." A glance is sent over to Venryk and she is a touch amused. "Oh do I?.. Well isn't th nice of you to point out." This said with a soft laugh heard before she glances to Heryn. "Do I look that bad at the moment?" This questioned with a teasing tone, a soft oh soon escapes her. "Numbweed sounds like a lovely thing at the moment actually. "She is right though Heryn, any injury should be checked out. Especially one where a runner was involved kicking the crud outta you." This offered while he is off getting the jar and she is slowly but surely working out of her flight jacket with a few mutters and a faint owowowowow heard. S'en is at least being dealt with and out of her line of sight which is making the bluerider's mood improve slowly. A glance i sent to Pritkin nd she ohs softly. "Yeah… I didn't think anyone could do it with just a few looks, or is she going to use her hands?" Is she talking about Cita like she is not there? It is /very/ possible at this rate actually.
For Venryk, Cita's surprisingly patient, shoulders softening and expression going just a little less murderous. "Wouldn't want Pritkin to have to clean your blood off the floor, hmm?" She asks, eyebrows raised. "Might as well get it patched up." There's a pause, and the older healer glances over her shoulder. "I imagine master Yualei couldn't turn down help triaging the Weyrlingmaster, since Natali and Telj aren't in right now." Is she…bribing him? Maybe. Her eye sets to twitching again sometime around the end of Heryn's well-earned snapping, and — when Pritkin hasn't returned with her numbweed at around that point, the Murder Glare comes back full-force. "I'm a healer. We try not to hurt people." Poor Pritkin. Heryn's stalked off, depriving the healer of her opportunity for rebuttal! Still, Sundari is still here, and Cita looks like she might actually bite off her tongue to *not* burst into ragey flames. "Weyrlingmaster," Cita breathes in, out. "That's up to master Yualei. Apprentices don't do much by themselves. If you'll excuse me. Venryk, you're right: but let Pritkin retrieve things for you. The floor." And she hasn't even snapped. She walks over to the older healer calmly, consults for a moment, then nods. And STOMPS VERY MATURELY OFF TO THE STORAGE ROOM. If she snaps a few tongue depressors while she's pulling them out of their boxes and putting them into new jars, well. At least she's far enough away that there's not *much* of a chance that she'll shank anybody with one, right? …right? No, yeah, they're totally safe.
Venryk brightens considerably, and his own tongue follows suit in poking out at Heryn. Hey, all the bartender's troubles are his /own/ doing. Ryk told him to go to the infirmary a long time ago! Though his head shakes after a moment, what with the man getting up and lumbering his manly way around the infirmary. He doesn't bother telling Heryn to sit back down though. He's too busy glancing back over to Pritkin for his response about the /lack/ of fun, but increase of 'interesting'. There's a sigh for the assessment, shoulders lifting in a mild shrug. "Well I guess I can't argue with that. I mean, sure, I like the infirmary, but then again..healer. But at least there's stuff to do and interesting bruises to take a look at. Or…oogle. You know, depending on your preference." Sundari is at least given an innocent smile, head canting to the side just slightly. "It's best to be upfront and honest about possible injuries, ma'am. Doesn't mean you're not still pretty, just pretty in a roughed-up sort of way…and /that/ sounds weird so nevermind." The boy tosses his hands up since his mouth is working far faster than his brain seems to, giving up for at least a moment with the talking. But there's Cita to attend to..or who is attending to /him/, actually, and the boy just shakes his head. "Well I was going to get to that part. I mean..there's no need to fuss and that's what the cloth and everything is for, so.." He trails off a bit though when she starts turning to /other things/, and he can only nod quickly, eyes growing just a bit wide. He merely watches her stomp off then before turning eyes /back/ onto Pritkin. "So…uh..yeah I don't need anything." Well, he /might/, but his legs, like Heryn's, work very well still!
It's entirely possible that Heryn takes Pritkin's words with him as he marches off, because he's almost just as surly when he returns as when he left, muttering a grumbled, "I am not a distraction." Because he definitely didn't catch somebody staring. Nope. And he's definitely not fetching his folded shirt from the table next to his bed and tugging it quickly over his head to obscure all his muscles either. Definitely not. As for Sundari's question, Heryn snorts quietly, head shaking ever so slightly. "You look as lovely as ever." Sarcasm again? Maaaaybe, but that doesn't keep him from saying it anyways. There is a lingering glance Citayzleat's way as the Healer stomps off to the storage room to break some tongue depressors, but it's with a heavy sigh that he offers a jar with a green lid to Venryk. "I'd better go before she figures out how to set those on fire with her eyes." Or. You know. Sees him and comes after that rebuttal. Take your pick. "Get feeling better, yeah? I'll see you around," is offered to Sundari and Venryk for the former, the bartender including Pritkin in the latter, offering all three a nod before beating a hasty retreat. Flee!
And then there's Pritkin, whose playfulness is not well received by Cita OR Heryn (and he has the grace to look apologetic, thank you). He says nothing to try to defend himself, merely raises his arms in silent surrender when they both go all surly at him, brows furrowed before they both disappear. The teenager sighs, and his eyes find Sunny. "I guess now is not the time," he observes, and then he's looking at Venryk for a long quiet moment. Tirade about the infirmary? Unanswered. Last bit about not needing anything? "Well, alright then. It's time for my break anyway." GEEZ. He's just going to quietly slip out, thank you. Probably go run a couple of laps because he /isn't human/. And he's gone! Vamoosh!
Sundari looks on after Cita and then glances to Venryk and chuckles softly. "Well an't that cute of you." This said with a slight shake of her head seen. Though her gaze turns after Heryn, or rather when he returns. "Who said you was a distraction?" She totally isn't following all the conversations it seems. There is a bit of amusement seen from the brotender's comment of herself. "Cute.. Just get some rest alright? If your still not feeling well tomorrow I don't want you doing anything too crazy. Stick to lessons if nothing else." SO she commands it! Or something along those lines. As for Venryk she'll peer at him a moment. "So.. They going to have to take your foot off?" She is joking, well of course. A glance is sent after Pritkin and she wiggles a wave after him with her good hand. "So it seems."
Oh sure, everybody's clearing out! Venryk is finishing up with getting the blood off his leg though, and makes quick work of dabbing a bit of numbweed on the injury and bandaging. /That/ at least, he knows how to do. He moves his leg then a few times to make sure everything will stay on, then hops down to put things away. "Take it off? Mm, well we'll know in a few days, I think. Then it might just fall off on its own and we won't have to worry about anything." The numbweed is put back, and the bloody cloth disposed of wherever..those go. Then he brushes his hands together and looks around. Yep, totally abandoned in the infirmary. Thanks guys. The candidate hooks a thumb over his shoulder though, gesturing toward the exit with a grin. "Well now that's taken care of, I'm heading /back/ to the caverns where I was going before. I'm starved, so.. You rest! Well..wash and rest. I think there's some stuff in your hair from that landing. Let them take care of you." Professional, he is /not/, and thus, he makes a quick escape from the infirmary as well. For snacks!
Sundari just peers at Pritkin at that and smirks slightly. "Oh funny…" There is a pause as she checks her hair and is pulling out another twig an she grumbles a bit to herself. "Yeah yeah… Everyone just run off. You have a good night and what not." She'll be here and then going over to the other side to check on Irk who has a few dragonhealers acting a bit confused over what is wrong with him… There are to many things wrong with him to actually start somewhere, mentally he is a cracked pot.