On the Mend {F'ren}

[Lothyna]

Who: Mikovren, F'ren (other Healers?-Which might be needed to keep Miko from injuring said rider...)
What: Checking up on Eneth's Wing
Where: Weyrbowl
When: Mid-afternoon
Warnings: Snarky Miko

In the roughly two weeks since Trith’s flight, Miko had found himself with rather little time to spare. Between working with S’lain on Trith herself, dealing with normal duties, working with others to insure the safety of the dragons both before and after Fall, and being heckled by several of the riders whose dragons he had tended after the strange bronzes attack, the young man was quite close to snapping. Especially after dealing with a brown rider whose poor dragon would –not- be flying again, unless he flew in the queen’s wing on a short, typically green-rider rotation, that was. Grumbling, Miko ran a hand through his frazzled hair, the puffed, disheveled state of the braid quite accurately reflecting his current mood.

And now? Here he was, about to deal with the –one- person whom he thought he might truly despise (and it seemed the feeling was mutual). And all because of that sharding bronze, and the other healers not making it out to the bowl at the same time as he. No, instead, they had done whatever, and left him to tend to the one bronze Weyrling that made him want to practice surgery without numbweed, F’ren. Of course, he didn’t really blame the dragon, mind-though he did think the young bronze should have paid better attention (he felt that way about every dragon in that flight, save maybe Trith). No, instead he blamed F’ren. And he’d had to be the one to fix the young bronze’s wing.

… Not that that had been easy, but even S’lain would admit he had skill, and deft work, when it came to the wing of any flying creature-but especially the great dragons. Thus, he was stalking into the Weyrbowl, where he’d arranged for F’ren to meet him today. A grumbling stomach reminded him that despite the mid-afternoon time, he’d yet to eat, and Mikovren testily added that to a long list of faults with the day and the rider. Maybe he’d get lucky and F’ren wouldn’t be there… No, not with his luck lately. And given the absolutely –useless- way the sharding dimglow had hovered and interfered before, he couldn't really expect any less.

No, he didn’t dislike F’ren, at all.

Still, striding out to the bowl with kit in hand, and an apprentice trailing in case of more supplies needed (like the nearly wasted jar of redwort last time from the pairs antics when he was trying to fix the wing). Eyes scanning the bronze hides, Miko could, privately, admit that he was concerned. Despite the course exterior, he did not want a dragon failing, or his skills-and while the injury seemed horrible at first, as he’d worked on it, he’d been able to actually save the entire sail save for a path that should grow back just fine-if it hadn’t already started.

No, today was checking the progress of the pieces which he’d carefully stitched into place and left slathered liberally in numbweed. He didn’t want infection, and wanted to make sure that they were aligned properly. If he was lucky, (and given the time he’d given F’rens Eneth, he –should- be) there would even be very little scarring-nothing like the heavy damage on the brown whose rider he wanted to drop off a cliff currently.

[Kristin]

F‘ren snarled. Where was that Mikovren? F’ren didn’t want Eneth to have to walk very far, he shouldn’t strain himself. To F‘ren‘s untrained eyes, Eneth looked like he was healing well but you never knew. And it was just so hard to have to deal with a moody dragon and F‘ren had to pretend all the time that he knew that everything was going to turn out fine, and that he wasn‘t a bit worried.

But to be honest, F‘ren was a lot more concerned about Eneth‘s mental health than his physical one. Since the flight the bronze had been angry, defeated and sad and had lost all self confidence. That was the hard part for F‘ren since Eneth had always been a happy dragon with heaps of confidence in himself and F‘ren. Before the flight they could do no wrong. They were invincible. But now...

So F‘ren hadn‘t been all that happy lately. And it was just his luck – or lack of – that Mikovren was Eneth‘s Healer. Nooo, they couldn‘t have S‘lain. They had to have Mikovren that F‘ren had decided was a jealous freak who only disliked F‘ren because he had a dragon, a bronze one, and Mikovren didn‘t. Maybe he was also jealous of Patch since he had after all attended the firelizard hatching but had returned empty handed, something F‘ren loved to gloat over.

But F‘ren was so not ready to face that man, if you could call him that. The mutual dislike was obvious, though F‘ren had no idea why Mikovren disliked him so, bar the aforementioned jealousy. But a small part of F‘ren enjoyed being around Mikovren because with him F‘ren didn‘t need to put up any pretense of liking him, and could just be himself. Particularly useful today because F‘ren just needed to release some of his frustration with life somehow and Mikovren was perfect for that. Now if he could only find him.

Ah, there he was. F’ren shuddered a bit, like he always did, when he saw Mikovren. He just looked so weird. Both dragon and man walked slowly the last bit of the way, F’ren wanting to delay the unavoidable encounter and Eneth just overall unenthusiastic. Finally they were there. And F’ren was torn. It was in his nature to be polite and charming but he so wanted to straight to the snarkiness. While he contemplated on what approach to use, he grunted an acknowledgment, only briefly looking Mikovren in the eye, before averting his eyes. No point in having to look at the man longer than necessary.

[Lothyna]

Arching an eyebrow at the appearance of his lest favorite rider (out of the entire Weyr, at that), Mikovren more or less successfully schooled his features into a blanker mask, working harder than he usually must to keep that façade that fooled so many in place. Waiting while humming a gentle tune-for his benefit, and possibly Eneths, he studied the bronze’s movements. Since Eneth would have been due for a full once-over soon enough anyways, being close to mature age, he may as well take care of that now… Unfortunately, (for him) he had the time, too. He’d purposely scheduled this as his last appointment of the day, knowing he’d need some sort of stress relief after.

The only other concern, though he wasn’t sure how to even –begin- to broach it with F’ren, given their… differences… was that of Eneth’s emotional and mental state after the events recently. Granted, that usually fell mainly on the rider, but Mikovren did take his job seriously, and Eneth was under his care, for the time being. More, he’d also paid attention to the bronze’s potential, and had to admit, if taken care of, he had a lot. And every dragon was necessary-especially now. With a shake of his head for the wool-gathering, he decided to just let it be for the time being, and try to find a suitable tactic later on-like when he had a dragon between him and the irritable bronze Weyrling. Preferably his own.

Even better, with both that little fire lizard of F’ren’s between them too. Which, privately, he admitted he was still somewhat jealous over, though the dragon not so much. Still, his skill in tending wings had landed him with F’ren and Eneth-and his atypical rudeness or distraction hid a strong ability in reading others-something which was becoming more key and obvious as trauma had to be dealt with in the Weyr at this time. Frowning slightly as he tilted his head to one side, the journeyman let his gaze trail over the bronzes’ hide, studying how the muscles pulled and tugged against each other as he came closer. As the wing in question came into view, he started walking over, gaze focused on it and it alone, doing his best to ignore the presence of F’ren for the time being.

The slow movement was steady enough that he doubted it was from pain-more likely both wanting to be elsewhere. Still, Miko circled Eneth slowly in the gentle, stumbling walk he preferred, looking for any obvious signs of a problem. Stopping by the bronze’s head when done, he peered up. “Pain, Eneth, aside from the wing?” he asked, doubted the bronze would reply-he expected a few words from F’ren. But this way, he wasn’t speaking to the rider-and it was typical of him anyways. He knew Eneth was smart enough to understand, and convey via his rider if aught needed attention that Miko couldn’t see on his own. “I’ll need you to extend it for me,” He added, motioning to the injured wing, before returning the tune hummed under his breath, eyes locked on the joints and sail of the previously damaged wing.

Watching F’ren from the corner of one eye, Mikovren wondered idly what exactly it was that had sent them against each other as such-and after a moment, decided it didn’t matter. He was too busy with healing to allow someone into his life, even as an acquaintance, let alone friend (which F’ren certainly was not material for) to accept (in his opinion) foolish, or childish, behavior. Though he would never admit it, however, something about being able to bicker with F’ren was pleasing-and he was tempted, so tempted, to give in to the allure of that today, after the long, tiring drama with that brown. Especially since it was his only current form of stress relief…

[Kristin]

((Short, I know. *uses school and being sick as an excuse*))

Couldn’t he even walk normally? Could he do anything normally? Probably not, F’ren decided after studying the little freak. But the man was after all treating Eneth, so F’ren kept his mouth shut for the time being. He had to have a civil conversation with Mikovren at least while he talked for Eneth. The bronze dragon had no desire to speak directly to Mikovren, knowing that His disliked him, not knowing exactly why though so Eneth was careful not to take sides in the matter. He loved his rider to death, but he couldn’t understand how his mind worked sometimes.

Tell the Healer that I feel no pain in my body. The pain inside him was not spoken of, both dragon and rider felt that Mikovren had no business knowing about their personal problems. F’ren spoke neutrally while he spoke for Eneth, but never once looked at Mikovren, preferring to keep his concerned eyes on his bronze.

He stepped away from Eneth though when the bronze extended his wing carefully. F’ren was impatient for Mikovren’s verdict and hoped that it would be a positive one as he was eager to get into the air again and hoped that with Eneth’s physical recovery would come mental recovery.

“So? Will he be able to fly again soon?” F’ren asked harshly, berating himself slightly for letting his true colors show so early on, but also just not caring anymore what Mikovren thought of him,