M'nr still hadn't gotten quite used to the crutch, despite how much he had to lean into it, allowing it to support him while steps were taken to resolve his sudden lack of center. It was funny how little he'd ever considered it could happen to him - he'd trusted his bond with Cordrath so strongly and in the heat of the moment that was all he'd held onto.

And now both man and dragon were stuck on the ground.

Cordrath had been understandably immobile since losing his leg, ambling ungracefully in the space between the weyrlake and the healer's station, mostly, as he spoke in sad hushed mental whispers with the young gold who held his hearts so tightly in her claws. That day he'd find his dear bronze by the healer's station, his still healing sutures being checked over for the dozenth time in less than a week.

For a moment, M'nr would just lean into that large head, stroking one of his lifemate's cheeks adoringly. It was a little lonely to be an injured man in two bodies.

faesinger