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 Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:53 pm
Cordel was not a happy camper right now. There were those who knew him who would wonder if he had ever been a happy camper ever. But now was a special sort of time. Now was about the time of anger when a camper would decide, ‘screw this racket’, set fire to the sharding tent that never set up correctly, went to stab the fish that never took the bait and probably went off with a flamethrower to set up that damned fire.
The eggs had been touched. Cordel’s eye twitched slightly at the mere thought of this and he, once again, wondered what the Candidate in question had been doing during her lessons. Probably busy giggling to herself and thinking about what a rebel she was. He snorted at the very idiocy of it and was very, very glad he was no longer a teenager. There was a perfectly good reason why no one was to touch the eggs before the Touching; they simply weren’t hard enough. Damage could be done to the dragonets if their eggs were fiddled with.
And, just as importantly, Gold Cheoth was no refusing to leave her clutch for anything, including food and water. The only person she allowed close to her clutch was Jr. Weyrwoman Favan and even she couldn’t get close for very long. And yet, that was exactly where Cordel was heading, on the basis that he might be able to help. It was his job after all. He had considered bringing La along----it would have been a good lesson for her----but decided against it since he wasn’t willing to risk her life.
But, since he wasn’t completely suicidal, he stopped outside of the Hatching Cavern to peer curiously inside. There was Gold Cheoth, looking rather expansive but not quite as expansive as before. Fully expecting a roar of rage from either the dragon or her rider, Cordel cleared his throat. “Jr. Weyrwoman Favan? Cheoth?” It seemed a bit obvious, but… it always paid to let others know you were there. So much more polite than sneaking up on them.
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Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2009 7:10 pm
It was good Cordel decided not to sneak up on rider or dragon, because such a foolish action probably would have resulted in a swift and painful death.
As it were, his presence to begin with earned a roar that could only be described as hysterical, followed shortly by hushing and soothing for the woman standing beside the agitated beast. Cheoth hissed, tail thrashing wildly as she trained her eyes on the intruder. No one else would come near her clutch! No one! The gold may be young, but it only made her maternal instincts run that much stronger. Lack of experience only intensified the problem, making the dragon that much harder to approach.
"What do you want?" the weary Jr. Weyrwoman finally snapped, turning to follow Cheoth's gaze. She recognized, at least, that the man was, in fact, a man, and not another dim-witted candidate. (If it were, she might as well just let Cheoth eat the fool and be done with it.) Another moment of squinting, and Favan recognized the man as Cordel. He was a Healer, a transfer. His rank was of no importance to her. He was, as it were, of very little importance to her, but he was here and agitating her dear Queen and must be dealt with.
"Hurry it up, would you? She was just starting to settle."
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Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2009 7:32 pm
It was a good thing that Cordel was prepared for that roar of rage. Cheoth might have looked like a bag of bones----relatively speaking, for her frame----but every bone was filled to the very marrow with anger. Actually, the Jr. Weyrwoman wasn’t looking much better either. Like all dragonriders, she would sooner take care of her dragon than herself. Wonderful. It looked as if he would have to be both dragonhealer and just a Healer.
“Journeyman Dragonhealer Cordel,” he said, introducing himself formally, making a big deal out of the ‘journeyman’ and ‘Dragonhealer’ part, since he figured those parts would catch Favan’s attention. “I’m here to see if I can offer any help.”
And he was just a nosy b*****d who needed to know if the eggs would be alright. K’em had told him to forget about it because it wasn’t like he’d be able to do anything anyway and that, if there was a problem, Cordel would just beat himself up over it. Naturally, Cordel disagreed, on the basis that he always disagreed with things that were perfectly true about himself.
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Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2009 8:22 pm
"Help?"
She wasn't that. A gawker, yes. There were plenty of those. But no one had actually expressed any concern, well, not for anything other than the eggs. Which she understood the concern, especially with a Queen egg, it was unsettled (refreshing?) that someone was actually inquiring after her Cheoth, and thus, herself. Brushing her hand over the Queen's leg gently, Favan murmured a few more soothing words to her gold before departing from her side.
She walked over to Cordel with none of her usual forced grace. The Jr. Weyrwoman was famished and exhausted, but none of that really mattered until Cheoth was okay again. At least someone understood, right?
Peering at the man, Favan had a grim expression plastered to her face as she put her hands on her hips, not really in the mood to play games. "You know there's not a lot that can be done for the eggs, right?"
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Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2009 8:33 pm
“Yes help. For you and Gold Cheoth.” Just in case Favan was too distraught to understand, Cordel made it clear. To be completely frank, he would have liked to order the Jr. Weyrwoman to the Infirmary, but that would’ve been suicide. There was no way he was going to get close to Cheoth without Favan there, that was for sure. Even after she had been soothed by her rider, the Gold still looked like she was out for blood.
“Yes, I know. I am a Dragonhealer. That would only stress Cheoth more,” he acknowledged. Any movement towards the eggs would certainly anger the Queen more; she was raging enough as it was. Any more and there was no telling what she would do. This sort of thing had never happened before. Candidates were supposed to be at least moderately intelligent.
As for the eggs, the only thing he could do would be to check for signs of life. At this stage of development, those would be weak anyway. No matter his own curiosity about their fate… K’em was right. If he did know for certain, the Healer would only stress himself out. “My main concern is for the Queen right now,” he admitted with a slight shrug. “I’ve heard that she hasn’t been eating or drinking nearly enough.”
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 11:08 am
Right. Of course. Cheoth. The stab of jealousy Favan felt was minuet and momentary at best, flushed out of her system as soon as it rose its ugly head. Cheoth was hers, her best friend, her only loyal companion and she deserved everyone's love and care and concern. The fact a Dragonhealer had taken it upon himself to show up and inquire after her lovely Queen was...was...well, Favan couldn't really explain it. Any other time, she'd certainly twist the idea of a man coming to see her into something else, but the Jr. Weyrwoman couldn't actually be bothered with too many thoughts of herself right now.
The young woman finally snapped out of her daze, folding her arms over her chest as she glanced back towards her snarling Queen. "No. She has not. She will not leave the clutch, not even if her mate were to watch. Neither he nor his rider have offered, for the record." Favan bit back a snarl, reminding herself that Cordel was here to help. Misdirected anger wouldn't serve her hear. As much as she was starting to resent dragonmen, there was a time and a place. Besides, the man was a Healer.
With a sigh, Favan ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. "Drudges have brought meat up, but she refuses to eat anything she has not killed herself. This just..." Favan shook her head. "I would stake that candidate out for Thread."
It about summed up how she felt.
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 4:55 pm
“Can’t blame her for not wanting to leave her clutch.” This was about the time when W’ten, Cordel felt, ought to cut in with a comment about how the queen’s actions were illogical; the damage to the eggs had already been done---or not---and there wasn’t much risk of another Candidate sneaking in and touching them now. Only, the Brownrider would use about seventy-five more words, plus the Stare. But Cordel could understand. The fact that the Gold’s mate and his ‘rider hadn’t even bothered to help out was unthinkable. Priorities. People just didn’t have them any more…
The dragonhealer’s eyes moved over the Gold’s form, trying to see how much weight she had lost. The Queen was not a small Gold, being slightly bulkier than most of her color. She could probably stand to lose a little weight, in all honesty, but…
“What about drinking? Is she drinking at all?” Water would be easier to bring to Cheoth than a herdbeast, he figured. A live herdbeast in a small area with several fragile dragon eggs? Pfft… no. That was just asking for trouble. You might as well put a bull in a small room full of glass!
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 6:17 pm
Favan rolled her eyes, not deigning Cordel's remark worth a response. He'd started out exceptionally well, at least, as far as men were concerned. He didn't need to go commenting about the clutch, though. The goldrider knew plenty about it, didn't blame her at all, didn't need other people rubbing it in. In part, the young woman had felt like some of this was her fault. If she was any good for Cheoth at all, she'd have stopped that no-good, wherrie-brained shardit who'd snuck in and committed those horrible, unspeakable acts.
Stake her out for Thread.
The blood-thirsty part of her thoughts began to trickle back. Locking her lethal gaze on the Healer, Favan all be snarled. "Does it look like there is a spring in here? Do you think she'd be so horrible if she had some food in her belly or some water to quench her thirst?" she hissed, rage blazing white hot through her blood. Behind her, Cheoth was growling softly, eyes never leaving Hers and the intruder.
It was only then Favan realized she was letting Cheoth's rage wash over her and use her like a child's toy. Taking a deep breath, the goldrider closed her eyes and kept a moment for herself.
"She is still out for blood, Journeyman Cordel. She thinks of nothing else."
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 6:40 pm
On the other hand, Cordel had to wonder if maybe W’ten had the right idea about ignoring emotions. Shards, but this was annoying… the Healer was not used to his patients snarling back at him and it was beginning to get on his nerves. No wonder no one else has offered to help, he thought to himself with more than a little bitterness. They all knew better than to even try. And he definitely wasn’t used to holding back his snarky comments; in his Infirmary, he was pretty much in charge of things. (Well, not really, but he could delude himself at least). Out here, he was merely dragon bait.
And no wonder the Bronzerider doesn’t want to help. There are so much more efficient ways of being torn apart. I bet he’s up to something more fun, like finding a pack of Felines to tease. Same amount of damage, but slightly less painful, because then he doesn’t have to deal with this. Since he couldn’t say anything out loud, Cordel rather enjoyed thinking his snarky thoughts as he waited for Favan to calm down. Dragonriders. Couldn’t live with them and sure couldn’t live without them.
… For the love of Faranth, was this how W’ten felt around Cordel all the time?!
“Then I suppose you don’t need my help after all. Good day, Jr. Weyrwoman. Cheoth.” He gave his nods and turned. If he couldn’t do anything here, then there was really no point in sticking around. If he needed to be insulted, he already had one dragonrider for the job.
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 7:03 pm
That was unexpected.
Deserved, perhaps, but unexpected nonetheless. Favan said nothing as the Healer left, simply folding her arms as she retreated to Cheoth's side. She should have known better. It was simply to good to be true. Besides, she was all her lovely Cheoth really needed, right? She could calm the Queen herself, find her something to drink and everything would be alright.
Everything had to be alright.
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