Chores. Yippee.

[Thorney]

Who: Dastan, Zan and Sav/Open
What: Chores
When: Early Afternoon
Where: Infirmary, corner

~~~~~

You just had to be kidding, right? Did the wherling master just have it in for him or what? Seriously, infirmary chores? What kind of sick joke was that? Dastan sighed and scrubbed at his face with his palm, inwardly grumbling at his misfortune. Last month it was babysitting little snot-makers, and this month it was babysitting old snot-makers. That was just…lovely. Aeris trilled from her spot on his shoulder, rubbing against his cheek. She hated it when Herboy was sad. Couldn’t she make it better? Grinning ruefully, the wherling stroked her back affectionately, wishing there was something she could do. Of course, Dassk was completely out of it, still sleeping like the rest of his clutchsiblings, not due to rise until much closer to sunset.

Entering the infirmary, the boy unenthusiastically made his way over to a healer and growled out something that sounded sorta like ‘Wherling chores. WhatamI doin?’ Or around those lines, anyway. Smirking, the healer pointed to a corner already supplied with three chairs and a huge stack of cloth, scissors nearby. Cutting bandages. Whoopie. Giving the healer a crisp salute, Dastan strolled over to the corner, sitting down in the one of the provided chairs and propping a foot up on a nearby stool. If he was gonna be here all day, he was gonna be comfortable.

Aeris hopped down in his lap, chirping curiously at the cloth Herboy grabbed, wondering what he was doing with those shiny things. Grinning, Das took a moment to stroke the green’s back until she settled down in his lap, lightly dozing. Sighing, the wherling set about cutting the cloth into bandages, heaping them onto a table beside him and planning on rolling them up later. Unless someone else showed up to help. That would be better than sitting here alone. At least someone else could provide a bit of entertainment. Of course, he would have preferred Mira’s company for his…entertainment, but she had been assigned to another chore, and so anyone would do about now.

[Lothyna]

Still not used to the layout of Cerulean, Savareniel was at least certain that his was where he was supposed to be-how many places looked and smelled like this, after all? Peeking a head into the building, the young man nodded to himself before moving inside, curious gaze taking in the people being kept her, and the Healers working, along with someone whose knots were somewhat familiar. Shen trilled brightly at hers, chirping and supplying an image of a wher, before he grinned, and tickled the green under her wings. “Thanks, lovely.” He murmured, voice soft, before turning to a healer.

“I’m here for chores, where do you want me?”While he understood the practice, it didn’t mean he was happy about it-but he also knew a Weyr was always shorthanded, it seemed. Still, he was somewhat nursing a bruised ego over Feynth deciding for him that he had to return to another Weyr-hadn’t he been through enough at Fort? Besides, it was proven, aside from Shen, anyways, that he had little a dragon would desire. Shrugging at the Healer’s look when he spaced out briefly, Sav sighed, and moved over to a table beside Dastan, quickly braiding his hair as he walked to keep it back, and tied it lightly away from his face.

Looking with a sigh at the set up before him, dried herbs and fresh, empty jugs and vials, cutting tools, and a fire to one side with a row of kettles to heat things in, Sav grumbled briefly, even as Shen twisted about, head quirked at the Wherboy and hisGreen in curiosity. Chirping a greeting, the little green settled onto Sav’s shoulder as he glanced up at Dastan. “Hello. I’m Savareniel.” He offered, before turning his gaze to the task, “And this little one is Shen.” Beneath his hands were plenty of familiar herbs-he had to take care of himself, but he detested making the mixtures.

Still, it was better than having to care for the patients, or clean bed pans and the like, so he’d not complain…much. Or out loud. Deftly chipping the herbs into the required size to utilize them, and filling the kettles or jars as indicated in a list on a scrap of hide the healer had given, Savareniel half-lost himself in the repetitive task, glancing curiously at Dastan every few moments.

[Thorney]

Glancing up as he heard a new voice in the infirmary, Dastan arched a brow at the boy who approached the table beside him. The wherling had never seen him before, and so assumed he must be a new candidate. Aeris was still out of it, dozing in his lap, but the boy smiled at the green, waving at her after she cheeped. "Hey Savareniel." Das greeted the candidate, giving a casual little salute with two fingers. "I'm Dastan, wherling of blue Dassk, and this is Aeris, though she's snoring away, I'm afraid." Grinning slightly, he tossed another freshly-cut bandage onto the table in front of him, twirling the scissors on one of his fingers carelessly. "It's nice to meet you both." Grey-blue eyes travelling over the stranger, Dastan wondered where this guy came from. He knew almost everyone near his age by now, and this one was new. He had to be.

"So." The wherling began, glancing around to make sure none of the healers were watching him slack on his duties. "You must be new around here, Savareniel. Where do you come from?" Eyes narrowing upon the herbs and vials, Dastan began to wander if this guy was a healer apprentice, or if he just knew alot about medicine. Maybe he took care of himself. Sighing lightly, the whering leaned forward and grabbed more cloth, beginning to cut bandages once more. It wasn't his favorite chore, but it had to be done, and to be honest, Das knew his duty, even if sometimes it didn't seem like it. Glancing over, the bluehandler quirked a brow at his companion. Savareniel seemed quiet, alright, but that wasn't going to last long with Dastan around. Not if he could help it.

[Lothyna]

Covertly watching Dastan as he worked, Savareniel could privately admit that he was fairly handsome and attractive, in a general, looking not thinking sort of way-something he’d cultivated since Shen started to rise every 3 months or so. Having a green fire lizard made life interesting, certainly. Still, Savareniel wasn’t too sure why Dastan was making such an effort-and wondered if perhaps, indeed, he’d been alone too long. Shen cheeped on his shoulder at that, and he felt her rub against his ear, before he blinked, and then let a small grin flit over his lips at the inquiries-or should he say, interrogation?

As Shen preened under the attention, even just a wave, flirty thing that she was, Savareniel finally answered, keeping his voice low and calm. “Dastan, then,” with a smile, “And no, I’m not, really. I was born to Fort Weyr, and through various events-a longer tale than I’m sure you want, ended up in the jungles down here with Shen and Paxars, my stallion.” A faint smile ghosted over Sav’s lips, even though there was a flash of something akin to grief at mentioning Fort. Catching the gaze, Sav glanced down as he finished with the redwort, taking far more time and care to sort needlethorn into various lengths and the appropriate containers, discarding the soft, damaged, or just off ones. He’d hate to stab himself with them needlessly, after all.

“What about you? And how old is Aeris? Shen slept like that for the first 6 months or so, before she decided that she’d slept quite enough, thank you, and made my life rather interesting thus.” He admitted, wondering idly about trying to make friends, despite being kidnapped by the one he did have-something he still wasn’t too sure about. Then again… This really wasn’t so bad so far. And if he failed to Impress yet again… he’d just know he was right, Fort was wrong after all, and S’ren and Freynth would have to deal.

Well, he supposed he’d just have to see how it went.