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Propped up against a few pillows Bereck looked at the book in his hands; reading was rather too strong a word for the activity but holding it gave him somewhere to point his eyes even if he couldn't focus on the letters too well, or his mind on the task of reading for that matter. Everything hurt, a fact he was becoming wearily accustomed to and on top of that he was bored and restless but totally unable to do anything about it. How long had they been here now, at Trine? He was still a little hazy on that, but he had enough clarity to know he'd asked the question of several people several times and so he didn't intend to do so again.

The pallid man sighed softly, turned the page of his book for the look of the thing and looked at his hands as he did so. Thin. Mmh. Eating more would be good, but his stomach was most definitely not on his side and was still rejecting food at random, and also if pressed to take more than a little at any one time. It was fortunate he supposed that he'd had enough bulk both in muscle and in fat for this not to be a critical worry; he might end up really rather skinny by the time he started to recover properly but he wasn't going to expire from it or anything.

Turning two pages back Bereck tried to concentrate and pick up the thread of the story again; it was some light fluff piece of an adventure novel one of Trine's young healers had offered him. The whole thing was pure nonsense and peppered terribly constructed characters (especially the protagonist, whose main flaws seemed to be being too wonderful and too handsome) but mentally poking holes in it would do him good. If he could focus on it, that was.

His vision might not be quite up to scratch but his ears were doing just fine, and were finely tuned to listen for anyone that might be coming by. Any voice was welcome (though he wouldn't like to admit that) and a friendly familiar one was doubly so. He hadn't heard these tones in a long time which made it even more pleasant, but he recognised them instantly. It was hard to mistake Rochelle for anybody but herself.

Closing his book and marking his page absently with a finger he turned his head towards his visitor and offered a weak ghost of a smile. "Is it? Hello Rochelle; I'd heard you returned to Malvren, and got out in one piece, but it's good to see you in person."

It was good to see her; the girl was utterly incorrigible but he'd always liked her very much all the same, she was loyal and basically kind on the whole. Frankly though he'd been shocked to hear she'd been at Malvren during the revolution; she'd just vanished one day all those turns ago, however many they had been, and not even a word to him and no word when she'd come back either. He supposed she owed him nothing of the sort, but he'd found himself stung by it all the same. He had thought... well he wasn't sure what he'd thought, but clearly he had been mistaken.

Focusing on the girl he realised that a lot had changed in those turns, which wasn't really a surprise he supposed. "You've grown," he observed softly.

So she wasn't going to mention her vanishing? Well if she wasn't then he wasn't either; she'd been a girl at a difficult point in her life after all, and as he had already thought she didn't exactly owe him an explanation. It still would have been nice to hear she was off, and then back though....

What was that little sag of her shoulders for? Maybe she was just glad he was making sense now or something. "Yes, Aleck told me." Bereck nodded and made a small gesture to the chair next to his bed, spending no more energy on the movement than was necessary. "I must confess I remember nothing much at all after my... encounter with the wher, not until waking up here at Trine." And how was he, she asked. Not good. He was mending slowly now, but wounds like this didn't just knit up neatly and go away. After some time he settled on saying; "I'm improving, slowly," which wasn't a lie in the least, but the slight downturn of his mouth and crease of his brow indicated that it wasn't the whole truth either.

"Not being dead is certainly an advantage," he went on, face smoothing back out to worn neutrality, with a momentary twitch of a smile for the girl who'd kept coming to see her adopted father no matter how long he had been ill or how bleak things had looked. "As does not being fifteen. And yourself? How have you been?" She looked well, but looks could be deceiving. He doubted she'd trust him if anything was troubling her though given she hadn't even cared to tell him she was leaving the Weyr. She was here to see him now though, which was gratifying at least.

Something had happened in the infirmary Rochelle thought he would be angry with her about? Bereck's brows knit in bemusement as he tried - and failed - to work out what it could be. Humm, and she'd not got on with one of his apprentices? He gathered a few had reappeared over the course of events, but based on Aleck's reports he presumed she was referring to Becka. Still, that was something he could investigate later; what mattered for now was that both girls (one now more of a young woman than girl he supposed) were safe.

"Well your timing could have been worse, you could have arrived in the middle of it and got shot out of the sky," Bereck pointed out pragmatically while he considered the rest of what she'd said. He had always assumed she had left because of Rocham; she'd vanished only a week after he'd been taken to Healer Hall after all, so he'd thought she wanted to get away from his absence or something like that. Apparently not. Why had she left so abruptly then?

He tried to think back and dredge up some possibilities but he found himself drawing a total blank. Having his mind dull like this was intolerable; he could put up with the rest of the pain and weakness if only he could focus! He didn’t feel quite like himself and that was uncomfortable to say the least, a little frightening even. Things would improve as he healed - he knew that - but it didn’t make him feel any better just now with his mind sliding off topic as easily as....

At that point Bereck became aware that he had been sitting there staring rather vacantly for some moments, and that his mind had indeed skittered off topic again; he blinked and made himself focus on Rochelle, silently berating himself for the slip. "Sorry, my concentration... isn't the best just now. No, I'm not angry." He wasn't one to talk about feelings all that much, but that didn't mean he was incapable of it when it mattered; he didn't want to leave her feeling as though he hadn't been angry because he hadn't cared. "I wish you had said something to me before you went though," he added after a brief pause, "I was worried when you just vanished like that so soon after your father was taken to the Hall. I thought maybe you'd gone after him alone at first." He had made enquiries around the place, and been rather relieved to find that she had returned to Ista to carry on with her crafting. He’d still been rather hurt though, foolish though it was.

Sesi's blood, and her body crumpling lifeless to the floor. Claws ripping his flesh like wet paper, and the pain that blossomed in the claws' wake. The wher's blazing red eyes, and the smell and feel of its hot rank breath as he tried to claw out those eyes with his fingers....

Shivering slightly Bereck forced himself to stop remembering; it wasn't doing anyone any good, and he ought to be focusing on Rochelle.

After she finished speaking he hesitated for a moment and then reached back towards the glasscrafter to lay his hand over hers. He wasn't the tactile sort any more than he was emotionally open with most people but once again he didn't flinch from making gestures when they counted, with people who counted. It seemed to take a great deal of effort though, enough to make him tremble slightly; not hard enough to be seen, but enough to be felt. Nevertheless he tried to give Rochelle a focused look, one she could rely on. "I won't tell Aleck, or anyone else for that matter. You have my word as a Healer." He remembered that she'd had a boyfriend now; he'd never considered him significant. He did now though, in as much as he would like to give the boy the bollocking of a lifetime; as soon as the brat got what he wanted, he'd moved on.

After a few moments Bereck marshalled his thoughts enough to continue. "I can understand now why you acted as you did.... And if you could remember his name, believe me I would give him a piece of my mind. Nasty little cur." He should probably move his hand back now but he felt too weary to bother with that at the same time as thinking. Anyway, Rochelle's hand was pleasantly warm, and even that slight connection to another person was welcome in his still somewhat hazy world; it was reassuring, solid, an anchor in here and now to keep him from then and there. "I'm glad you didn't lie," he added after a few moments more, "few things worse than being false with people.... Mmh, yes, and after a certain point it just... it feels too late to say anything." Bereck's tones softened slightly on that last sentence, and for a moment the healer looked quietly sad.

Two hands were better than one. His eyes drifted closed, and he soaked up the warmth that drew him away from the pain a little. Safe and alive. Couldn't ask more than that.

"Mm." Bereck opened his eyes again. "Well... under some circumstances it's acceptable. Things like that and... small things. I always lied about where I'd hidden birthday presents and things." It occurred to him that this had been a rather frivolous thing to say, but at least he was still making sense or at least he thought he was; maybe he wasn't and just thought he was. "Maybe it's better to forget whoever he was. Make him not important and move forward; find somebody more deserving."

Humm, what had happened earlier on then? Bereck glanced at his book and worked back from there. "Yes," he said with a slight nod, turning back to Rochelle, "He was here earlier; he got kicked out and told to eat, and sleep horizontally before he came back." He knew it hadn't been him to say that, but he heard it in his own words and voice directed at Rochelle back at Malvren.

"Carltis," Bereck echoed as the name registered as familiar, "That big boy who's always getting into fights? You two are friends now?"

"Mm. Well I suppose something like that does tend to draw people together, and most people don't like to be on their own when they feel uncertain." He knew he didn't; one reason he was glad Rochelle had appeared, and was still holding onto his hand. He at least had Berath all the time - though she was sleeping at the moment - but a physical presence made all the difference. He wished he could go out and see her; he wanted to look at her eye for himself, make sure it was being looked after properly.

It then registered with Bereck that his gender had been insulted. He smiled a tiny bit, recognising Rochelle humour or at the very least good humoured insulting. "Did you know that women can be excessively dull as well? Individual differences count for everything, and the ends of the bell curve. You're probably right too, about blowing up that is. Hundreds of stories that I currently can't call to mind." A fact that Aleck would probably be very glad of, he realised in a moment of perfect clarity.

"If you managed to get that great lump to stop being spiky you must have some kind of supernatural powers," Bereck added. He then thought for a moment, registering more details. "Where was the cut? I hope whoever stitched him up was careful." Bereck frowned his thinking-frown, the one that had etched the deepest lines on his face. "So sensitive; it's easy to cause long term damage fixing a deep cut."

"Ah, orbit bone." Probably alright, maybe a bit twingy in time to come if he was unlucky but probably fine for the most part. Lucky boy. Bereck mentally swatted aside the flash of jealousy, irritated at himself for it and glad that nobody else knew about it.

"Dull ones do." This was easier to think about; he gave a snort of mild amusement. "I don't know who started the rumour that golds pick the most worthy girls, but most of the ones I've seen and heard of in my time have been distinctly middle of the bell curve especially when they Impress. They become strong Weyrwoman because they're trained, not because of any innate traits they have... well other than being attracted exclusively to men, and that is an incredibly pathetic and pointless standard to set."

What had he been talking about?

"Ah, yes, mmh, concussion. If it's been a few weeks I presume he's recovered from that? Has he mentioned headaches? Any dizziness, vomiting, nausea, lack of motor coordination, or difficulty balancing?" The symptoms came out wholesale, so firmly ingrained on Bereck's mind that no concentration at all was needed to bring them to the forefront. His mind given reign to wander a bit decided that it was a good idea to add; "And I usually prefer 'sit still and be quiet or I'll get a bigger needle' works on men and women of all intractable dispositions."