[PRP] A Place for Broken Things (Matotoka/Faroe)

[demon_pachabel]

They'd all been allowed some time to cool their heads and work out the utter feelings of injustice that had gone through the candidate ranks like a tidal wave, leaving them all soaked with emotions that weren't quite as foreign as Matotoka would have usually claimed. He'd been left with a lot of strange feelings he'd not known were rooted anywhere in him.

But it wasn't the feeling of injustice that had lingered even as the day had moved on and the candidates had been sent further along on their days. It was that outpouring of love he'd found himself starving for. Even now, it was like he'd not eaten in days, empty in a place he'd obviously placed a box or a blanket over before and left unthought of. Now it was there in all of its dust, rotting away at the edges to remind him how untended it was.

It made heading to the infirmary, tasked with helping the healers, a far more ironic chore. But it wasn't as though he was allowing himself to needle more at the thought than a tongue over the edge of a broken tooth.

"Excuse me!" Matotoka announced himself, standing tall as he entered the area, trying to not be too disruptive - there were several sore and unhappy looking dragons about, after all - "Where do you need me?"

Did...anybody need him? Or maybe he'd be better off looking for one of the healers in charge to be nudged along.

Uta

 

[Uta]

Thread had fallen just the day before, which meant the Infirmary had seen a surge in patients--both dragon and rider a like. While there was always a great need immediately after Threadfall, a bad Fall made the situation that-much worse... and yesterday's Threadfall had been bad. Beds were full, tempers were short, and help was more than welcome.

Today, Faroe had tasked herself to assist within the Infirmary. Neliath had always enjoyed comforting those who needed it most--and not just because she was a sociable beast--and Faroe's amicable and patient nature meant the most prickly of tempers were at least in capable hands. Though she wasn't traditionally trained, she at least knew the basics of care--particularly when it came to Threadfall injuries--which meant those more classically trained, like Veena and Tristram, and the other Journeymen and Masters, could focus on the more serious and critical care.

The woman had just been on her way out, pushing a small cart laden with redwort, bandages, numbweed, cotton swabs, and various other jars of ointments, paddles, and cloths, when Matotoka entered. Candidates had been coming and going all day, and there was certainly more than enough work to go around. Without hesitation, she waved him over. "Perfect timing. You're not too squeamish, are you?" She asked with a small smile. "If not, Neliath and I could use a hand." Some dragons injuries and care needed more tending than one person could provide; and others had riders who were otherwise incapacitated or recovering from their own injuries.

The work wouldn't be anything a Candidate couldn't assist her with--and there were others enough already rolling bandages, changing bedding, and mucking out the dragon quarters.  

[demon_pachabel]

There was always a tension about freshly injured people and Matotola had found it was rather the same with dragons - perhaps even more pronounced. Matotoka subconsciously assumed it was because the sound of a large predator in pain was unsettling. It was bad now and history had taught them that it was going to get worse.

He came immediately when beckoned, looking over Faroe's face, then the cart, as though somewhere between those two things he would find context for what she was going to have him help with. Unfortunately, it wasn't as informative as he would have liked. But that didn't seem to bother him much.

"Not as far as I know," he'd watched his firelizard try to steal the remains of a cookie hacked up by another firelizard, so the bar was pretty weird. "So I'd say I'm good to help wherever you can use me." Unless it was just to be there and be pretty. But he doubted that was the intention.

Uta

 

[Uta]

The woman gave a small smile and a nod. Not everyone had a strong stomach, but Threadscore was something every Candidate might someday need to face down. Even if they never went on to Impress, they might well remain in the Weyr. "If it turns out this isn't a task for you, there's plenty of other work that can be done. Right now, though, having a second pair of hands will be helpful if you don't mind."

Unless Matotoka objected, Faroe would continue to make her way outside the infirmary and over to where they kept the injured dragons. Not every one was ready to return to their weyrs, or needed more care than a single rider could easily provided. Her own queen, Neliath, had already made her way to where a brown dragon lay, and had settled down nearby. She did crane her neck to peek curiously at Matotoka, eyes whirling a slow, grey-blue, before turning her attention back to the grounded dragon.

"I think we'll start changing the bandages on Javeth over there," she began. "He suffered a nasty burn wound on much of his tail, so we'll need to remove the loose bandages, wash out the wound, reapply some of this ointment, and rebandage." It wasn't anything she couldn't do alone, but having a Candidate's assistance would make it go quicker--especially if she wound up having to climb up the brown's tail or hip.

"Hello Javeth," she greeted, giving the brown a bow. It occurred to her that she hadn't yet asked the Candidates name--but thankfully, her dragon was more than prepared.

Matotoka. Neliath supplied.

"Matotoka and I are going to see to your injuries today, all right? Neliath will help with the pain--but we'll need you to be still as you can, all right?"

The brown dragon heaved a sigh, but otherwise said nothing. The pale gold gave a soft, reassuring croon in response. He says he understands, but wishes His might be here, too. Neliath spoke to both Faroe and Matotoka, seeing as the Candidate would be assisting.

Faroe gave a small, sympathetic nod. "I know, Javeth. Once S'len's more like himself, he'll be be here to help." Dragon's injuries were always worse when the rider was unable to be there, but sometimes it wasn't possible. In these cases, the dragons riders were either also injured, or the injuries so severe they required around-the-clock care that a rider couldn't provide.

Pushing the cart closer to Javeth's tail, she offered a small smile to Matotoka . "If you can pull up your sleeves, and lather your hands in redwort, we can begin. Ever change the dressing on a burn wound before?" She asked, curiously. The two of them would be working together for some time--the least she could do was better get to know her assistant.

Pulling up the sleeves of her own tunic, she allowed Matotoka to dip his hands in first, before following suit.

demon_pachabel

As I b.s. my way through burn wound care.
/

 

[demon_pachabel]

Matotoka fell into step behind Faroe, not entirely familiar with the woman but allowing her certainty in what was happening to take the lead. It helped that he wasn't a healer of any real sort. Even handling human wounds hadn't been anything he'd ever been tapped in on and it was one of those ways that made living in a Weyr....enlightening.

He'd not realized he'd been escorting one of the goldriders of the Weyr, and while Western hadn't made their rank as esteemed, the stories still lingered and Matotoka still found himself pausing briefly to look back up at Neliath when she peered down at him. "Oh, hello," he greeted, his tongue feeling awkwardly leadlike before she had turned her attentions back to the one that was most obviously Javeth. Following Faroe's lead, he also bowed to the brown.

He'd been even less prepared to hear the gold dragon speak to him, looking up at her again as she explained the brown's feelings. Brown Javeth and S'len - Matotoka took careful note of the names. Why? He wasn't sure, but it always seemed important to know names. He still hadn't gotten Faroe's and wasn't sure how to ask either. That she knew his had him again glancing up at Neliath. They did say dragons could read minds, and he was suddenly very aware of what she could have found in there, scrambling to throw a blanket over any raw thoughts to make it presentable.

"Uhhh, no. Admittedly the only burns I've ever seen up close were on people who dealt with fire," and those were rather infrequent, since they'd been good about keeping the children from playing too close.

Still, he did as he was asked, tying off his sleeves at the elbows, dipping his hands and stepping back as he smeared the redwort up his arms just in case it needed to go up that far. "Is it complicated or is it just a matter of being delicate? I'm good with either, but I'm admittedly much better at having a light hand."

Just not usually for this kind of work.

Uta

LMAO. That makes both of us!