SOS. Western, do you copy? Rescue TP: Island POV

Western Weyr - Center of the Bowl
This is the center of the huge oval crater of the Weyr. Standing here you can see how immense it is. The cliff sides rise up all around you, dotted with the caves of the dragon rider's weyrs. To the west you can see the arch open to the sea. North is the hatching grounds, south you see the cave entrance to the living caverns, and to the south east the entrance to the infirmary, raised a little from the weyr wall.

And, simultaneously, just to confuse you all… *coughbecauseIconfusedeveryonetobeginwithcough* ;)

Western Archipelago - Wide Shore
From this wide stony beach the storm is clearly visible though luckily this island is relatively sheltered. Still the squall's force is making itself known - rain pours thunder rolls and lightning flashes while the wind whips its way through the trees and causes the waves to break in foamy anger onto the glistening pebble beach. There's shelter of a sort to be had in amongst the trees though those with dragonkind will have no option but to manoeuvre on the shore.

Just as the call rung out into the night to gather Archipelago's riders, volunteers are being hollered for throughout the lower caverns and bowls. The calls are as expected, and include a search for anyone with possibly useful skills: Healing experience, useful craft abilities, people who simply want to /be/ there to assist in whatever way they can. A gathering point is set within the Central Bowl, where riders await to carry the volunteers - and stacks of hastily-gathered supplies - off to the island closest to the rescue point.

S'rorn pulls down on the leather hood of his jacket, peering out from underneath the material through the rains in the night. Dragons mill on the stormy shores, relaying messages and offering some shelter from the rain with wingsails until supplies and warm bodies can be transported from the tents between the trees to the flightline. "Nyzieroth, make sure as dragons leave, others fall into place behind them. We need to keep the flights moving. If there's any injured dragons, let Miraneith know. Can't handle rescuing them, too, in this storm. Where's Suldith?"

To the side of the Central Bowl the search and rescue riders of Archipelago are forming up, preparing to take to the skies to do their duty. Wingleader A'wrn stands surrounded by his wingmates, giving directions that can't quite be heard outside of the circle… but the order to mount up is clear to all as riders mount up and their dragons take to the skies. As one they go :between:, barely higher than is necessary to shave precious seconds off their rescue time.

Even if Zi'on wanted to sleep through that sort of message, and even if Kiena weren't getting up and out of bed, Suldith's bugle is enough to wake the entire weyr from sleep. And only echoes in the weyr. Zi'on jerks awake and stumbles to get into his old riding gear, and throwing on a poncho over everything. The pair aren't in the Search and Rescue wing any longer, so it's probably better to leave the rescuing to those who weren't as rusty. Instead the bronzer heads to the bowl and the caverns, to round up anyone who wants to volunteer, and to get supplies out to the islands where survivors would be brought to. Finally the pair wing off to the island, laden with last-minute supplies and any volunteers who wanted to ride with the weyrleader. "We got more tents!" He shouts to S'rorn as they wing down onto the beach. "We'll have to rely on a dragon wall to save them from the wind, though!"

Qiana is unobtrusively near by her weyrmate. As the calls went out for help and S'rorn got called into duty, Qi figured she might as well get dressed as well to help out where she can. She knows enough of how to splint a runner's leg where the theory should carry over to the human side of things. In fact, she even borrowed some of the supplies for splinting from the stables. She's basically hiding underneath her own poncho, dressed as warmly as she can be in the situation.

Calls for help? Areia's there, man. Totally there. She's a bit sleepy - blame it on no klah, but she's here! Like Qiana, she has brought some stable supplies. She's not a healer but, well, some things transfer easily between species. She's huddled in a makeshift cloak of woolen runner blanket. She comes up to Qiana with a frown. "Whats going on?"

"Put your wings out a bit, Jraireth," T'vas's voice is nothing compared to the storm, the man's dark hair plastered against his head by wind and rain, the hood of his poncho long having been whipped off, and he shades his face with an upraised hand as the bronze does as he's asked. They'd been so warm and cozy, tucked up in their weyr. And then the summons, which brought them here to this storm-tossed beach. "Supposed to be having a break." the bronzer mutters, low, tilting his head away from the fury of the storm. "What with weyrlings out of the barracks and the lot. But.." he chuckles some, "can't help not helping out." No rest for the wicked, as they say. "Got some supplies here," a few volunteers are flagged down. "Let's get him unloaded."

An older Archipelago rider remains to help co-ordinate things in the Weyr, and no doubt on their island destination, too. "Weyrleader! A'wrn says conditions are bad at the rescue site, but the island is away from the brunt of it, with the front seemingly moving towards to east and away from the archipelago. Conditions on the island are wet and stormy but tolerable, sir." Cl'ver salutes to Zi'on, then to S'rorn. "Soon as you're ready to go, Lilath will provide a between reference. The sooner the better!"

"To be honest, I don't really know." Qiana responds to Areia, huddling a little further underneather her poncho into whatever warmth her clothes are going to offer her, and keeping a hold on the hood of her poncho as well, keeping it over her face. "I'm really just here to provide an extra set of hands for whatever they need."

Zi'on is busy unloading his cargo when Cl’ver makes his way over to him. "There's nothing we can do about the conditions… unless it's too bad for the dragons to fly in? The main goal is to get the people off the ships. We can come back for the cargo later on when it's not as dangerous. Let's get the people here!" Zi'on pulls down the rest of what Suldith is hauling, then moves over to help set up another tent. His dragon motions for some of the others to form a protective ring around the tents and hopefully keep them and everyone in the camp a little drier. "Ladies!" Zi'on shouts to Qiana and Areia. "Give us a hand!" Erecting tents, he means. "We'll need to split up the people who need medical attention from those who just need to get warm and dry. Let's see if we can get any sort of fire going in this mess."

"We have enough riders right now to divide up between transporting personnel. We can spare the junior wingseconds to head up that detail. They'll make sure to provide adequate cover wherever necessary!" S'rorn salutes to Zi'on and takes a step back in time to glance over to Qiana before being approached with more information. "Cl'ver! Send it!" With that, the brownrider manages to place his hand on his weyrmate's shoulder before running over to Nyz and quickly mounting.

"Me too." Areia responds to Qiana before she's called to by Zi'on. Her supplies are dropped close to where the tents are being put up and she hurries to help Zi'on, pulling tents up. She pulls another tent post up while motioning to Qiana. "Qiana, can you start the fire? I suck at it. But there is some matches and tinder in my bundle over there." That said, she scrambles to tie down some tent canvas.

The dragons recieve their reference point from Lilath, before the green herself winks into the dark oblivion to appear over the stormy isle. Not a huge island by any means, though substantial enough, the directions are to land on the wide, pebbled shore that runs almost the entire length of one side, fringed by the shelter of a dense jungle. Lilath wings her way down through the storm to land at the far end, Cl'ver dismounting as thunder cracks overhead and the wind drives rain in slanting icy sheets onto the stony ground. As more personnel arrive and dismount, he hauls his supplies to a likely-looking spot to set up - and not a moment too soon either, as the first blues and greens from Archipelago start to arrive, carrying rescued sailors on their extended harnesses.

Qiana, light a fire? Hardly. It'd be like handing a child tinder and matches and telling them to start one. Thankfully there's enough extra hands on board, where Qi notes one of the kitchen workers near by, and quickly grabs the person's attention by grabbing their arm. She makes a hurried explaination as S'rorn passes her by before she's sprinting after him with the medical bag kidnapped from the stables and settling herself on Nyz's back as a passenger. "I can help seperate those who need to be treated from those who don't." She says into his ear, hopefully audible above the rain.

"Put your wings out a bit, Jraireth," T'vas's voice is nothing compared to the storm, the man's dark hair plastered against his head by wind and rain, the hood of his poncho long having been whipped off, and he shades his face with an upraised hand as the bronze does as he's asked. They'd been so warm and cozy, tucked up in their weyr. And then the summons, which brought them here to this storm-tossed Bowl. "Supposed to be having a break." the bronzer mutters, low, tilting his head away from the fury of the storm. "What with weyrlings out of the barracks and the lot. But.." he chuckles some, "can't help not helping out." No rest for the wicked, as they say. "Got some supplies here," a few volunteers are flagged down. "Let's get him loaded." And then they're aloft, and to their reference point, setting down on the windy beach. "Unload, now." Good thing the man brought passengers to help.

Once things seem to be organized properly in the bowl, Zi'on will start loading up Suldith with the supplies that need to go out to the island. Including tents and food and medical things. Then he'll mount up, along with Areia and anyone else who wants to ride with him. a few hops and up into the air they go, winging into the sky a bit before they pop between. Then they appear a few moments later above the designated island, slowly winging down onto the beach. After everyone has dismounted, Zi'on instructs them to help unload the bronze while Suldith tries to shield them from what wind and rain the storm has left over.

Blue Opicheskiduth and green Apith arrive with their load of sailors, three apiece, each man strapped into a harness and swinging beneath the dragons, who backwing and hold steady to lower them as gently as possible down to the ground. Knowing the drill perhaps better than anyone else, Cl'ver rushes forward to unbuckle the men, sending those who can still walk towards the camp that is being set up. Others rush forward to help carry a man with an injured, possibly broken leg up the shore, while more lend a hand to assist one sailor who's unconcious, for one reason or another. More dragons can be seen winging their way towards the island, promising the arrival of more survivors.

Areia starts unloading. At least she can do the physical labor! "Here." She hands things to people, motioning and instructing. "Tent. No, that goes with the healing supplies. Here, food." She tries to stay under Suldith as much as possible but still ends up soaked and cold, despite her wool cover. She watches the coming dragons with a wince, then glances at Suldith to see what's left.

T'vas busies himself with unloading the supplies that had been packed onto Jraireth with care, hunching his shoulders and turning his back to the wind and rain as best he might. "Put that over there," he directs the volunteers who had ridden with him, motioning for a box to be placed to the side before glancing over his shoulder at the incoming dragons. "What a night for this sort of thing," the bronzer shakes his head. "And that goes there."

The moment Nyz is safely on the ground is the moment that Qiana is off the brown's back and helping with one of the first important things: getting the tents erected here on the island. Someplace dry -er- to put the food and to put the injured. She'll help sort out the sailors if needed once they have somewhere to actally put them.

Nyzieroth quickly moves to join the draconic wall, providing shelter where need be while his humans handle other work. More dragons from Seamount arrive: half follow Archipelago and the other half land on the beach, spreading wingsails at the direction of a small shrilly green. Her rider waves her arms to circling dragons, the storm tossing her fire hued hair in the ocean breezes. She turns, stalking across the beach and moving in the direction of S'rorn. "Sir, A'gus has his flight freeing up the Archipelago riders so they can transport more men! Call Dalenth if you need any changes!" Before a response can be called out, the woman vanishes between fluttering dragonwings and the small green darts into the air.

"Incoming!" A cry comes out from one of the rescued who's still able to stand once he's been unharnessed. He points out over the water, to where a bronze dragon is assisting an injured green, helping her towards land. Maitayth comes in for a rough landing in the churning waters just off the shore, paddling in and hauling herself up onto the beach with one wing hanging limply by her side. Teniqua vaults down from her lifemate's back, calling for help. "Sprained wing! She's sprained it! We need assistance, someone, please!"

Areia ducks down through the rain as soon as Suldith is unloaded, heading towards the injured and incoming. "Bring her over here!" She shouts over the rain to the injured green, motioning to a bare piece of island. "We'll see to her soon!" There might be others in more danger, after all. The woman darts her way over to where the sailors are being set down and starts checking for the most urgent injuries.

"Jraireth," T'vas's call for his dragon is well nigh a bellow as he whirls back to make a grab for the harness, his bronze lunging to his feet, scattering supplies amidst protests, moving down the beach to slide against Maitayth's side, his bigger bulk supporting hers, half-cradling the smaller green the way he might hold her had he caught her in flight — without the same forceful grip perhaps. "How're you holding up?" Tae hollers towards Teniqua, holding tight to the harness as he scales the bronze's side and settles onto the neckridges. "We'll have her in place soon."

Zi'on unloads Suldith first and foremost. That way the bronze can move around to provide a bit of cover to the people and tents around, as they reassemble the draconic wall. Zi'on helps set up more tents, especially the ones needed for tending the wounded. If they weren't dying or bleeding or in pain, they can huddle beneath the dragons for the time being. Cots are rolled out on tarps, and fires are started where they can be. Though even the bronzer looks up when a green is being helped back. "What? There are injured dragons!?" Zi'on doesn't like the sound of that. "Where are the rest of the dragons? Surely there ought to be more here by now. Are there any other injured dragons out there? Where is A'wrn!" Weyrleader is unhappy.

"She's hurt," Teniqua deflects T'vas's concern for herself to her dragon, who she is trying to soothe by stroking her hands over the green's muzzle. Without loosing her hold on her lifemate, she turns to answer Zi'on; "Wind caught us, twisted her wing - everyone else seemed to be doing fine sir, A'wrn is directing the rest of the rescue! Two ships capsized, one struck by lightning and starting to burn, three fully evacuated sir, they were plucking them out of the water when we left sir, but the conditions are awful, the wind's terrible… it's making it even /harder/."

With enough tents up, Qiana is headed down towards where the injured sailors are being dropped off. And as one is unloaded she'll start doing a cursory check of the individual to see if anything's bleeding or broken, and directing the people with the strength to do so, to cart them off to the proper tent if the patient can't hobble on their own. There's at least one healthy fire going, and that's being split between boiling water and making a wherry broth.

Jraireth rumbles soothingly to Maitayth, cradling the smaller green gently as he assists her in reaching a place beyond the high tide line and the tents. Soft rumbles of concern seep from the bronze, his neck curved to rest against hers, body and bulk aligned to support and ease her passage. "We'll take care of her," T'vas reaches out, over the distance between dragons, not so far as it might seem, to offer comfort and care for the greenrider. He'd even pat her shoulder if he could. "Don't worry." Her report makes him wince, the bronzerider's gaze flickering towards the Weyrleader's. "It sounds very bad."

Areia scatters across the sand, checking the patients, before she stops to kneel at the side of one sailor who is obviously in pain. She glances up to scan the people around her before shouting. "Qiana! He has a head wound. Can you help me move him closer to the light?" She asks after peering at the man. "I can't tell how bad it is." She flags down one of the others to help. She does glance towards the dragons, but seeing T'vas, brushes them off as taken care of.

Zi'on sends off a greenrider and his dragon to got and pick up a couple of dragon healers from the weyr and supplies to treat a sprained wing. He hadn't anticipated needed dragonhealers, and is not happy about an injured dragon. Since the tents are up and things on that side seem to be going smoothly, Zi'on start rounding out everyone who isn't doing anything to lead them out where the riders are dropping people off. Several emergency cots are set up, even if they're soaked, in order to quickly transport the hurt to the tents after they've been deemed as needing medical attention. Zi'on starts barking orders at some of the riders of the smaller dragons, forcing them to wait for a while to catch their breaths so their dragons don't end up with more sprained wings. "You! Over there, help them with those last two sailors. Your dragon needs a break! Someone send a message to A'wrn that we can't have the smaller dragons overworked. Put your harness on one of the browns from Seamount if it'll fit."

Three more dragons appear on the horizon, winging their way in with yet more sailors. These three - two greens, one blue - come in to land, looking exhausted after multiple trips and battling the weather. One rider stumbles forward looking for a healer, his hand curved around his shoulder and a pained expression on his rain-streaked face. "They're… nearly done," he manages to gasp through the pain as he passes the Weyrleader, before sitting heavily on the nearest available surface to await medical attention.

As horrible as it may sound, Qiana just isn't paying attention to the dragons. It's not something she can help with, so she's going to focus her attention where it /can/ be of some help. And Areia is once again calling for her attention. "Head wound?" And the poor sailor she's working on gets no warning whatsoever as she forces a bone back into place, promptly blacking out on her as she wraps the splint around his shin. "Head wounds are /not/ something we should be touching. That needs an actually healer." Qiana's head turns this way and that until she finally spots Zi'on. Poor man, being the weyrleader in all of this. "Zi'on! Where are the healers? There are more serious things here than people requiring splints or bandages over a cut." Sorry, but she's not treating a head wound. That is far outside of her abilities. And her attention is back to Areia as she crosses the beach, watching out for other people possibly in her path. "I'd carry him - carefully! - over to the tent for unconscious people, but I wouldn't do much beyond that until there's a Healer here."

More greens and blues begin to return to the small island carrying a couple more of the less injured. After their humans are on the ground and moving away, the beasts move along with the human wall and open both wings, draping sails on top of one another. S'rorn runs over to Zi'on after talking with more riders switching out with the draconic wall. "They're cycling out to get this done, the tired dragons can lean on one another and just drape over the wings. We'll use them as tents if we need to. Some went back to the weyr and the hall to get more healers. We'll see the end of this, soon."

Elsia has drifted towards the healers triage area, and has been very useful there! She is quite handy with a needle, has steady hands, and doesn't faint at blood, which is about all the healers can ask for in a helper. In a rare lull between patients, she wipes a hand across her forehead and blows out a tired breath, looking grimly as more dragons, and more injured, arrive.

The end would indeed appear to be soon, as more Archipelago riders make their way to the shore - browns and bronzes amongst what's been a steady stream of blues and greens until now. Some help their wingmates who have minor injuries, some are simply exhausted, and their riders are clearly feeling the strain too as they help what sailors they're carrying towards the Healers, only to sink down themselves beside their lifemates. One bronzerider seeks out Zi'on to provide an update. "Two ships left to clear, sir. Cargo's all over the sea. One ship's on fire, they're rescuing the last from it now."

"Healers are in the tents!" Zi'on shouts back to Qiana. He's not trying to sound mean, just trying to be loud enough where she can hear him. "Wait until they come back with one of the cots! Just try to keep him awake!" At least some of the temporarily grounded S&R riders can help move the injured men to the tents. Things are starting to get more crazy on the beach now, as load after load of evacuees are brought to the beach. "Tell them to hurry! Rorn, find something to write on and start taking a tally of how many people we've got. Find out how many are injured and then send word back to the weyr. We'll get names later, we need to know how many beds to set up in the infirmary and how many in the caverns for now." Zi'on nods to the bronzerider. "Let's get them all cleared. Sod the cargo for now. We can look into that later when the storm isn't beating the dragons in the air."

"All right, Jraireth, let her down carefully," T'vas's gaze centers on the triage area. "This is the place, don't hurt her more now," He leans forwards to place a hand against the bronze's shoulder as Jraireth eases away from Maitayth, setting the smaller dragon carefully onto the ground. "Keep an eye on her," the bronzerider scrambles down from the harness, having swung over to the other side, to reach out and squeeze Teniqua's shoulder reassuringly before he's on the ground and moving to report. "Got her in a good place," he calls out, tipping a thumb over his shoulder at the green, and Jraireth looming over her, wings spread to keep the wind and rain off the multi-hued green form. "Dunno how we're going to get all the injured dragons back at this rate."

Elsia gets called by a dragonhealer to assist with the green Jraireth lowers to the ground. She's wearing her calm face, the one that says she's going to freak out later but not now. She stands awkwardly beside the dragonhealer as he examines the dragon, her attention turning at T'vas' comment. "Perhaps once the storm clears we could float them back?" she suggests with a grimace. "It's not great, but it would do for the ones who can't fly."

The Healers must've come while Qiana wasn't looking. "Right!" And then she drops her tone, once again back with Areia. "Right. On three, lift him and get him onto the cot." Yes. That hand cot-stretcher someone just ran up to them. "Then we'll get him in the tent." A third person is spotted and they're quickly nabbed. "Areia, you support his head. You sir, go for his shoulders and torso. I've got his legs." And once all three of the volenteers are set there's the countdown before the lift.

It's a small relief to those who might notice it, but the rain does seem to be easing up a little as the storm moves further away from the little island shelter. Another small group of browns and bronzes appears now, carrying just a few sailors each, as well as their lifemates. The only injuries here are amongst the seamen, one who which has a gash to his forehead, while the others seem more battered and bruised than anything else. The dragons and their riders look exhausted, with one brown's dusky hide taking on a somewhat grey shade as he lies on the pebbels, settles his head down on his forepaws, and closes his eyes to rest. His lifemate curls up against him, his own eyes closed.

T'vas's lips tighten in a thoughtful looks — one that's not quite a frown, but not far from it. "Be a long way to swim," he comments to Elsia, "but you might be right. Might be the only way to get them back, unless we can get some of the largest bronzes and the queens involved. And I'm not sure if the golds can. Miraneith's going to be on the sands soon, and Liora…" the bronzerider makes a funny sound, sort of a 'pfft'. "Orraeloth might be willing, but she's not had much flying experience. Isn't allowed off the ground much." For obvious reasons. Elsia gets a look. "How are you holding up?" He's been saying that a lot lately tonight.

Areia helps settle the wounded man into the tent, waiting until the healers take over before she leaves. She rubs her hand over her eyes before looking around through the rain. There's still more wounded and she goes to see them, doing what she can and triaging the ones who need real healers. Luckily most are just bruised, so she takes a step back.

A blue dragon who's likely familiar to Zi'on and S'rorn, if no-one else, wings his way in on his own to settle down on the beach. A'wrn, Archipelago's wingleader, slips from his back, going immediately to check on those pairs in his wing who are already resting on the beach. He does a circuit of them before seeking out the Weyrleader, giving Zi'on a crisp, if somewhat tired, salute. "Four riders out there gathering the last. Should be coming in any minute… worst bloody storm I've seen in turns of doing this."

Elsia holds up her hands, which are stained colors from blood and the harsh liquids used for sterilization. There's a tragic laugh in there somewhere. "Fancy a drink after this?" she jokes, trying to sound breezy and lighthearted, and falling somewhere short of the mark. "I'm okay though. How about you? The riders are looking in sorry shape. None of you are any use if you drop dead of exhaustion."

Zi'on nods to A'wrn and motions him off towards the tents. "Go get something warm in you and get out of the rain for a while. You've earned it." Since the influx of new evacuees seems to be slowing to a trickle, Zi'on moves off to see what's going on in the tents, and where he can be useful. He instructs a few of the riders who look idle. "Get anyone who's dry enough some leathers to between in and take them back to Western. Have the healers there look over everyone who arrives. Make sure they're warm and fed before they get assigned a cot." He helps hand out hot klah and bowls of soup and stew to riders, sailors, weyrfolk, and really anyone around who was hungry or cold enough to want some.

An actual healer jogs down to the shore to meet the sailor with the gash to his forehead, calling for yet another cot to be brought down towards the water. Qiana looks about her and ushers Areia on over to the tent that has wherry broth and stew waiting for people to warm up. Leaving the other woman in the care of the people there, Qiana walks back down towards the area people are getting dropped off, shivvering under her poncho, even though she's physically warm. As she passes by people able to walk, she directs them to where the stew and soup are located, pausing a few moments later as she watches dragons in the distance become more than just dots in the sky.

"Tiki Lounge," T'vas says, "Got some good credit there, on account of being an assistant to the Weyrlingmaster. Or I'll take you anywhere you want to go." he's clearly not joking, as he offers Elsia a reassuring smile, and even goes as far to pat her shoulder comfortingly. "Get you nice and relaxed with a couple of good drinks, and this'll seem like a bad dream. You've earned, far as I can see." The bronzerider shrugs. "Not nearly as shattered and worn out as some of those poor fellows," he nods over at the dusky brown sprawled out. "Jraireth and I weren't doing the grunt work out there. Just ferrying around, and carrying dragons once they got here."

Elsia gives T'vas a wan smile. "And don't think I won't take you up on that." Deep breath and then she's turning to see what the dragonhealer's saying. "Oh, right," she unwinds the end on a long roll of bandages and hands it to her, unrolling it slowly. "Is it scary out there?" she nods towards the sea, where the storm is whipping everything up.

T'vas's smile is certainly white enough in the darkness and the rain. "I was actually hoping you'd say that," he remarks to Elsia. "You'd better take me up on it, or I'll make sure you do." Probably by pestering her or something. Hey, someone has to keep up the reputation of the bronzeriders if /certain/ ones are spoken for already. "Hang in there," he pats her shoulder again gently and then watches as the baker unwinds the bandages. "Frightfully, I think," he admits, "I've got lots of admiration for the Archipelago riders, they've got guts. Even some of the new ones are out there." And he's had a hand in teaching a few of them.

On the pebbled shore the dragons from Archipelago lie resting, most with their riders. Weyrfolk are helping to tend those injured in the rescue, while the froth-crested waves continue to crash, whipper on by the wind, against the land. The rain here has at least stopped, though there's still no extra light other than what little manages to seep through the clouds above, and whatever sources the Westeners have brought with them.

Resting is, in fact..what V'ric is doing. Still completely soaked through, he's peeled out of half of his uniform. Wet clothing simply lays where he's thrown it, and for the time being he's making a trip around Loxiath, checking the dragon for damage. Though the brownrider hasn't come away completely unscathed either. Exploding debris showering across the deck have left him cut up in places, but nothing in terrible need of tending before Loxiath, at any rate. "You did wonderfully, don't worry."

Keely is still in her own wet gear, though the goggles have been pulled down to dangle at her collarbone like a strange piece of jewelry. Hair is at odd-angles, sticking this way and that from the salt and wind. Once the straps are off Geimhreath, she tugs her gloves off to begin checking over the blue's body and wings, ensuring no damage other than some likely strained muscles.

Indianath backwings tiredly, landing with a graceless thump that has his tail splashing down into the water. Not that he seems to mind; he's more concerned with Rou'x, who suddenly seems to be aware of an injury she's sustained. Without the adrenaline of the rescue to bouy her, the brownrider's suddenly very aware of how tired, aching and sore she is as she starts to dismount. With an uncharacteristic little whimper she looks down at her thigh, and to the long gash she hadn't even realised was there. It's bleeding pretty freely and clearly has been for a while, and either the shock or the hurt causes her leg to buckle under her when she finally hits the ground. Her dragon croons worriedly, pressing his muzzle into her hands to help her to her unsteady feet. «Mine requires a Healer!»

Ujinath arrives with more rescued sailors and likely some of the last and he angles downwards towards the pebbled shore. Swivelling his wings, he hovers while he's relieved of them and then uses the last of his strength to select a spot on the shoreline to rest. The moment he lands, he gives a low and exhausted sounding creel, breathing heavily as he folds his tired wings tightly to his sides. Kiena unbuckles herself, though her fingers fumble the buckles several times before she can free them. Her legs almost give out the moment she touches ground and she has to lean heavily against Ujinath's side, eyes closed as she steadies herself and then takes a slow, deep breath, gathering some reserved strength to tend to her lifemate. Satisfied that he has taken no harm and is only at his limit for endurance and strength, Kiena sinks to the ground and with her back against Ujinath's shoulder this time, begins to examine herself for any nicks or scratches, bruised for certain at least. At Indianth's call though, her head darts up, blue eyes seeking out the brownriding pair and even Ujinath gives a low and worried rumble.

Zi'on is still ordering people around, and packing up people to be transported back to the weyr so they're not stuck on the island. They've at least managed to get a few fires going, so it's easy to spot the island, and the tents and the dragons help shelter everyone from any leftover rain and wind. At the cue from Indy though, Zi'on takes up one of the stretchers with one of the other wingriders and runs out to the beach. "Somebody help Kiena into the tents!" They wrap a rudimentary bandage around the brownrider's thigh, then get her laying on the cot so they can transport her into the tent for those needing medical attention. "Got a rider over here that needs stitches!" Then he looks down at the brownrider. "Sorry, Rou. But I gotta get your pants off. I wish it were for something more fun than stitches." He says as he starts slowly working off her pants.

Elsia is still with the dragon healer, unwinding bandages as she sets a twisted wing. She turns to respond to Rou'x, or rather, Indianath's call for help. She's pretty quick to get a cot over. "Help me get her onto it?" she asks Zi'on, who's beat her there. "I can do the stitching."

V'ric looks from around Loxiath, brows furrowing together just a bit. The dragon rumbles lowly, and the rider does start to move…although he halts right after as Zi'on is there. And removing pants. He huffs out a breath then, tromping across the sand toward the tents when she's brought there. "You need a chaperone…" It's muttered softly down at Zi's head, even as he moves around -eyeing Elsia just a little- before he manages to get a look at Rou'x, looking over his fellow brownrider calmly enough. "Idiot."

Geimhreath doesn't relay Indianath's request. It just isn't important for him- there are healers present and neither he nor Keely are suited to it. So it's not until there are people racing with a stretcher to the brownrider that she's made aware. She starts to run, but the sand is slowing her enough that the effort is too much. Never mind the crowd around Rou'x. "Is everything okay?" she calls, eyes on V'ric primarily, "what happened?"

"I can get to the tents myself," Kiena grumbles, waving off anyone who approaches her. "Get moving! I ain't injured, I just gotta catch my breath. Go tend those who need it." Like Rou'x and the bluerider casts another worried glance towards her and then to Indianath as well. Seeing that she's in capable hands now though, Kiena focuses instead on getting to her feet. Ujinath turns his head to nuzzle his rider gently and the teen pauses long enough to console him before moving off, slowly and with her steps dragging and heavy as she weaves her way towards the tents. There she'll settle to rest again, but it won't take long before she's recovered enough and back to work, helping where she can and her skills are best used.

Rou'x doesn't seem all too pleased to be hauled onto a stretcher, and Indianath rumbles worriedly as he follows where she's being carted to. She grits her teeth at Zi's attempted joke, forcing a smile to try and ease the hurt. "Y'gonna get them off me easier next time, yeah?" She's only half co-operating though as she sits up to look over his shoulder at her lifemate, then beyond to where the others are. "Where's Kee? Kiena? V'r—- oh, there you are." A lopsided, tired smile is her response to the brownrider's comment, followed by a snort. "Y'callin' me that, or the Weyrleader?" When a Healer starts swabbing her up she hisses, wrinkling her nose. "Y'alright, Kee? 'S'everyone alright? How many'd we get?"

Elsia maybe misunderstands V'ric's look. "My mother was a Healer. I practically learned how to stitch wounds from the cradle." Her handiwork is everywhere. "Everyone's accounting for, right?" she asks in general, focusing on cleaning and numbing the area before she threads a curved surgical needle. "Sorry, Rou'x," she apologizes as she hands the needle to the healer and then applies pressure to hold the wound shut.

V'ric does not count as /crowd/. He is a /pillar/. A shirtless, scarred, and somewhat cut up pillar. He stands with his arms folded over his chest though, shrugging mildly. "Both fit the description, I suppose." Keely's approach earns his attention then, one hand lifting to settle on her shoulder lightly. "Plenty of debris flying out there, she took a worse hit of it than I ended up with." And while the brownrider might still be bleeding in places, the wounds that he has are superficial. Fingers give a squeeze then, moving so that he can trade places with the bluerider and allow her closer. His look slides to Elsia again then, brows lifting just a little. "I didn't say anything. I would assume you knew something of it, since you volunteered. The alternative.." The brownrider quietly shrugs.

A'wrn, having rested briefly, has been gathering information from the sailors being treated on shore. Clipboard in hand he comes to where the crowd is gathered - mainly because that's where the Weyrleader is, but also to check up on his wingmates, just in time to hear Rou'x's question. "Captain of the Sundance claims they left Ista with 112 across all seven ships. Our tally here was 109 on the first count, but they're doing the rounds to check again. B'rox and E'wrd have gone back out to do further sweeps to see if there's any we've missed." He flips a paper on his chart, frowning at the second page. "Three dragons injured; Maitayth, Sulyth and Nreth, wingsprains mostly, though Nreth pulled a muscle in landing badly, possibly fractured a toe. Five injured riders; one dislocated shoulder, one fractured wrist, two concussions and one thigh wound," he writes the last one as he says it. "Several with rope burn, though. Anyone else got anything to add?"

Careful V'ric! Keely's legs feel heavy enough that when he offers a hand to the shoulder, she starts to slump into it. As she wasn't on the ships as long as V'ric and Rou'x, her damage is much more in the bruised and strained category. The young woman's pale eyes take in the brownrider, eyes widening a bit as she gets to the gash. "Oh… is she going to be okay? I… I think I remember something about salt water being good for some wounds. Something about cleaning them? Is that the case here?" She glances to their wingleader and gives a small shake of the head. "I don't think so, sir… Just a lot of bruises and worn out dragons."

There's a needle. Sticking into her thigh. And no /numbweed/… or so she thinks, anyway. Rou'x tries her best to put on a brave face, but it's more a comical grimace as she sets her jaw and clamps down on her bottom lip, eyes scrunched shut. "Ow y'bugger Elsi but that hurts like a fuckin' bitch, y'know?! The fuck y'doin' that for?" She reaches out to grab at Vel's wrist, squeeeeezing it hard to give her some sort of outlet. "You not getting' pincushioned, V'ric? Y'gotta good bitta blood there, right on y' sexy chest…" She laughs, a forced, nervous, pained laugh, before reaching out for Keely, too. "Salt water stings less'n what Elsi's doin'!" Poor Elsia. She receives /such/ a glare!

"I know it hurts," says Elsia sympathetically, hands firm and steady while the healer works. "But you have to hold the skin together right, or it will heal all puckered and gnarly." Which is, obviously, undesirable. She glances at V'ric and says with her best evil healer face, "You're next, pumpkin."

"Not unless you want to count nicks and cuts." V'ric has plenty of those. There's a faint sigh though when Keely starts slumping, bracing himself to indeed act as a support column for tired people. He blinks however when his wrist is grabbed, looking down at Rou'x with the same deadpan face as before. "I didn't go and try to have my leg sheered off like you did. Unlike you, I don't need a healer." To which of course, a prompt and dark look is given to Elsia.

Keely wobbles when Rou'x grabs for her. The girl is weary and likely suffering from a sugar crash. She did lose the entire contents of her stomach on one poor sailor's head. The bluerider blinks a few times at the brownriders, then Elsia. "So she'll be alright?" V'ric is freed from support duty as the brunette sinks to her knees next to the injured brownrider, moving to clasp her hand. See! She's being all supportive.

Indianath sticks his big nose into the tent, crooning softly. Rou'x grumbles something under her breath, fidgeting as she squeezes V'ric's wrist more. "Y'could get some stuff put on them cuts though, yeah?" Out her hand goes to ruffle Keely's wet hair, grinning at the bluerider. "I'm /fine/, Kee, 's'only a cut. Ain't gonna kill me, right, Elsi?" Because it's only a cut! She frowns at the Healer, then at Indianath and his big head, then rolls her eyes and lies back down. "I'm bloody knackered. Mebbe might wanna throw up, too."

A'wrn steps away with Zi'on, discussing something in the corner of the tent. When they leave, there are new orders being passed around by anyone and everyone: all wet or injured people are to stay the night on the island, while anyone dry and with the ability to go :between: can start to carry the dry sailors back to the island. In the meantime, more supplies are arriving; food, lamps, blankets, dry clothes, and someone's got a bonfire blazing away on the beach, around which sodden seamen and riders alike are huddled in blankets, sipping soup or hot beverages.

"I put stuff on the cuts," she reassures Rou'x placidly. And then Elsia reassures Keely too by echoing the brownrider, "She'll be just fine. She just needs to rest, she's lost a bit of blood, but she will be feeling just fine in a day or two." The healer finishes up with a few neat knots and cuts the extra thread. She slaps a bandage over the stitches and nods her head in satisfaction.

"I'll get it taken care of." Probably not, but V'ric can say what he likes! Still, he works his wrist free from Rou'x's grip, finally making his way out of the tent a moment or two later..even if he has to nudge his way out past Indianath. He returns to sit with Loxiath near one of the fires since his clothes are still wet, slowly warming back up again.

"Well, I just…" Keely turns a bit red, feeling flustered over the concern she's shown. And so publicly to boot. "Least, uh… the harnesses all held." She glances over her shoulder as V'ric departs, expression wavering a bit. "I hope someone makes sure he's alright."

T'vas was doing the rounds, Jraireth having remained with Maitayth while the assistant weyrlingmaster checked in on folks and dragons alike. There wasn't much else the man could do, just make sure all the dragons he might or might not have had a hand in training as youngsters were taken care of, and at last, he returns to Jraireth's side, clutching a mug of hot klah between his hands to warm them. There's a soothing warble from the bronze, the brazen-hued dragon shuffling his wings a little. "So tired," he mutters, tilting his head to look up at the bronze, and then glancing towards Maitayth. "Will be glad when we can all go back."

"Y'got any spare pants? Anyone? Ain't gonna do t'hobble around in nowt but m'undies now, is it?" Nice as those underpants may be (or not, really, since Rou'x has no desire for fancy knickers), the brownrider would much rather be fully dressed. She pushes herself up, then groans as dizziness washes over her. "I reckon," she murmurs, rubbing the heel of her hand against her forehead, "that Vel'll be alright. Kinda fancy joinin' him out there by the fire, since it's bloody freezin' in here…" Which it isn't really, but exhaustion and bloodloss is paying it's toll. "Y'both wanna come on out n' sit wi'me?"

"I think I saw some riders delivering supplies. Maybe some clean pants came in. You might ask around. I'm going to go check on people out there, so take it easy, okay?" She smiles and gives both girls a pat on the shoulder and lets them be, going to wash her hands up in the water. She avoids the bonfire, even though it's getting chilly now that her adreneline isn't going. She finds T'vas, arms wrapped around herself. "Hey." Such magnificent words of wisdom and greeting!

Since it's just her leg and not anything above the waist, Keely dives in for a tight hug around Rou'x's shoulders once things are wrapped up with the suturing. "Oh Rou'x, I'm so sorry I didn't get over here quicker… Geim didn't tell me 'cause he didn't think I could do anything to help." Which is true, but all the same… "Let's… let's go get you some food. I'd offer my pants, but I don't think they'd fit." Being of a fairly form-fitting nature.

Jraireth rumbles softly again, the bronze dropping his head to nose in weary understanding at Tae's shoulder before he jerks his head up, gaze settling across Elsia. "Jrair—" there's a pause, T'vas breaking off his comment mid-sentence as the baker speaks to him. "El-seee," T'vas drawls out the woman's name. Well, part of it anyway. "Hey yourself," Words of magnificence and wisdom and greeting be hanged, everyone's worn to the bone. "Are you shivering? Are you cold?" Is the man blind, or just acting entirely too concerned. "Here," he's shucking off his oilskin slicker, tugging at his flight jacket beneath it. "Put this on, you'll freeze, and where would we all be without klah candy?" The jacket's offered towards her, solemnly-like.

Rou'x's under no illusions that Keely's pants might have even the slightest chance of fitting, considering the huge difference between two riders' lower half measurements. "Hey, y'alright, KeeKee, s'ok." She runs her hand over the bluerider's hair, then down to cup her chin affectionately. "A blanket'll have t'do for now. Ain't like I'm shy nor nothin', o'course." Winking, she slowly slides her legs over the edge of the table, lowering herself shakily, and slowly, down to touch down first with her uninjured side. The numbweed might have relieved whatever pain she had, but Rou'x still leans against the cot before moving any further. "You got enough left in ya t'gimme a hand, doll?"

Elsia startles when the bronze's head jerks up, eyes wide and about to take a step back. "I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I didn't mean to surprise you, Jraireth." A wan smile is given to the rider though, and it's a testament to how tired, or cold, she might be that she takes the jacket without protest and curls into it. "The world existed before klah candy, I'm sure somebody else will come along to make it after me. I'm just glad we didn't lose any riders or dragons tonight."

"I'll make sure to find you a blanket," Keely assures, stepping back as Rou'x finds her feet again. She may collapse from exhaustion later, but for now she slides in to put an arm around the brownrider's midsection. "I'll give ya as much as you need," she says, summoning up a bit of a smile.

"He's tired," T'vas offers the explanation for Elsia. "Just like everyone else, although he hasn't got the excuse of having been out there pulling people off the ships." the bronzerider gives a wan smile, strained perhaps by the weary toil of the night. Jraireth croons wearily, and Tae glances over at the dragon. "He accepts your apology though." Watching her put the jacket on, he nods in satisfaction. It's plenty warm, meant for the cold of between. "I'm very glad of that too," he says, moving a bit closer, his dragon hunkering down close to the ground, wings furled tightly against his sides. "You want to go sit by the fire or something? Or over here by Jraireth. You look tired, and ought to get off your feet." Solicitous fellow, aint he?

Elsia says as much: "You needn't be so… well, you don't need to cater to me. It won't be the first long night I've had, or the last." She looks briefly back at the fire and shakes her head. "Don't let me keep you, if you want to go over there. I'm…not much for large crowds and comraderie." She looks up at the sky. "Wish I could see the stars, though. I always feel a little more grounded seeing them still up there."

Leaning on Keely with her arm wrapped around the bluerider's waist, Rou'x steers them first to find some of that broth that's been brewing, and then to get klah, spiked, blissfully, with whisky that someone's thoughtfully brought along. Then, they hobble on over to the fire, settling in amongst everyone else while Rou'x flicks the end of her blanket around Keely's shoulders. All, it would seem, has been mended between them, as she rests her head on the younger rider's shoulder. "Y'did great, KeeKee. I were watchin' ya. You n' Geim did awesome." A quick look is given over her shoulder to Elsia and T'vas, then to her lifemate, then she sighs softly, tiredly. "Y'gonna stay here tonight wi' me? Gonna hafta fly back straight t'morrow."

The warmth both inside and out is making Keely sleepy. Her head tips, once they're settled, to rest against Rou'x's in turn. Like as not, they're supporting each other. Her hands are wrapped around her mug, savoring the warmth there as well. "We tried… I kept Geim focused by remindin' him that any good effort would likely be noticed by the Wingleader and others." She wiggles in closer to the brownrider. "I was plannin' on staying… He," meaning her lifemate, "is in no shape to fly tonight. He's not hurt, but he needs the rest. His wings are a bit strained."

"Just watching out for you," Tae comments to Elsia. "Maybe I'm trying to butter you up so you'll make more of those klah candies." he does grin, a little less weary now. "But if I'm hovering over you too much, you just need to say the word, and I'll back off." Really, he will. "I just need to sit down before my feet start screaming at me." There's a quick shake of his head. "And I'd rather not go mingle with anyone right now." He makes a waving motion at Jraireth, and the bronze settles, forearms crossed to make a nice little seat in front of him. "If you want to sit, he won't roll over and squish you or anything," Tae offers to Elsia, settling down on the bronze's arms, and leaning back against the dragon's chest. He's left plenty of room. "I'd like to see stars too," he comments, eyes closed wearily. "Ever been up to the Yokohama?"

More proof of how tired Elsia is, she settles next to him with a half-lidded smile. "Never thought for a moment he would." She even leans on him a little, all sleepy and perhaps more shaken than she really wants to admit. "Klah candies, huh? My mother warned me about boys like you." If she's still got the good humor to tease him, she's going to be just fine. "The yokohama?" She shakes her head, and all of the curls that have escaped their ribbon during this whole adventure end up in her face. "I can count on one hand the number of times I've ridden a dragon anywhere."

Rou'x snuggles in close to Keely once she's set down her empty mug and soup bowl, curling her arms around the bluerider and nestling them together for warmth, support, and comfort. "Stay wi' me," she says softly, lifting her head to gently kiss her wingmate's cheek. "I missed ya, Kee. An' I'm sorry f' flyin' out t'other day." They're very quiet words, but spoken truthfully, at least, as Rou'x sighs once more. "I don't wanna letcha go now, alright?"

"It's okay," Keely says in a distant tone. One that says volumes more than the words. Things like 'It doesn't matter anymore' and perhaps something about relief. She kisses Rou'x's forehead and settles in against the brownrider comfortably, "I ain't gonna leave and… I don't want you to let me go." The last is spoken very quietly, as she sets her own emptied mug aside and lifts a hand to rub at Rou'x's shoulder gently.

"Then we ain't going nowhere," Rou'x murmurs, half-asleep already. It's been a long day, and the physical exertion, plus the blood loss from her wound, on top of the tiredness she's already been feeling of late has drained every last drop of energy from her. Still sitting, still holding Keely, her eyes close and she drifts off to sleep. Nearby, Indianath lets down his vigilant posture once he's assured that his Rou'x is asleep and comfortable, so that he, too, can relax and recouperate.

T'vas has a pretty girl all leaning in against him. Such a lucky bronzer he is. Why, he'll even snug an arm around her shoulder, supporting her as he rests against Jraireth's chest, the bronze crooking his neck to regard the tired humans with draconic amusement. "He'll take good care of us," the bronzerider's voice sounds rather tired, muffled some. "Klah candies," he agrees. "Don't listen to your ma. Aint nothing to be warned about anyhow." Right, just keep thinking that, m'lad. "Yoko. Up there. Skies. Can see lotsa stars." There's a muffled yawn from him. "Take you someday if you want. Right now, sleep." He'll do the same thing. Resting, it's good for the body and soul. Especially after a long and frightful night of storm and bad stuff.

There's a lucky bluerider over here! Keely has a pretty girl snuggled up to her and despite how weary she is, she's got a bit of a smile on her face. Geimhreath has long since dozed off and it's not long before his rider is doing the same. Fortunately, she and Rou'x are propped up enough on one another that they don't topple over.

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