[PRP] Hot for Healer. [Erastan and Veikal]

[Sinders Path]

Erastan sat tense and watchful on the small examination table. He looked like a wild animal ready to bolt or bite at the first opportunity. One leg hung down over the edge of the table but the other was drawn up to his chest defensively to protect his vulnerable centre. The boy was not good with other people at the best of times and now the whole stress of fighting thread and finding himself injured was adding to it. Bringing out his old feral habits.

It was hard to pin down the boys age partly because of his dour expression. He wasn't very tall, a little over 5ft and he was rake thin with near flawless skin and air of youth. But his glare furrowed his thick black brows and asture features belonged to the most bitter of the aged generation that had seen to much of mens cruelty and humans disregard. Erastan was all angles and sharp edges from his bony frame to his spiky attitude.

He would have retreated from human interaction stright after his duty of the day was done but...

Blood oozed and dripped from a thread wound that ran the length of his skinny right forearm. A Minor injury in the grand scheme of things, it had only been a sliver of the silvery menace that had hit him while he had been reaching for a sack of firestone, but he was a new rider, a raw fighter. It had taken him a moment to gather himself and think to travel between safely and shed the parasite. Which meant, it had been gifted amble time to bury into flesh and burn away to the bone. Luckily his beloved blue had not been struck or hurt by his foolish hesitation.

His wound had been hastily wrapped up in numb weed soaked rags to dampen the pain. And a torque had been applied further up his arm to stem the flow of blood but it had not been fully treated. At the very least it would likely need a few stitches. Thus he found himself sitting and waiting while the other more life threatening cases of thread injury were dealt with.
Erastan wound have personally preferred to swaddle the injured arm in bandages and slink back to his room, however that had not been an acceptable proposal for Liat. She had practically dragged him to the healers hall with threats of punishment should he fail to wait for treatment on every step of the way.

So he waited and nursed his thread scored arm.  

[houllow]

Veikel wasn't a fan of Threadscore. Naturally no one would be a fan of any injury, but the point remained. He didn't like how it made people feel, he didn't like how it looked, he didn't really have a choice in the matter. A healer's job was to be a healer regardless of their personal feelings, and so the journeyman tugged the little mask up over his mouth as he went in to deal with the next patient. Threadfall had been chewing through riders and dragons alike with reckless abandon, so it was hardly surprising that the person who greeted Veikel when he came in was a rider.

A rider who looked more like an infant, really, and was bleeding quite badly from Threadscore. Instantly the healer felt his stomach drop, though the bit of herbs he'd smeared on the inside of his mask kept him on track. Think of the flowers, Veikel he chanted to himself, and a smile was pushed onto his face. "Erastan, is it? Looks like you got hit pretty bad."

Why was he stating the obvious? Obviously it was because if he didn't the poor young man was likely to bolt from the room like a wher released from chain. In fact this kid did look more and more like a wher if pressed to think - his mannerisms anyway - and maybe that made things easier. Maybe. "Do you remember me? I'm Veikel."

All healers generally knew most of the Weyr for some reason or another, even if it wasn't exactly on a first name basis. People popped by the infirmary all the time for random things so it wasn't unusual to learn a face.

Sinders Path

i know this tag is really, really old! if you would like to drop or continue this RP please let me know!