Impotent Rage

Writers: Curious, Yvonne
Date Posted: 26th June 2024

Characters: Skyvra, F'lin
Description: F'lin and Skyvra butt heads.
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 12, day 8 of Turn 11

The sky was clear until Thread fell late that morning and the Wings of Barrier Lake rose to meet it. Flame, char and the flash of dragonwings shadowed the sky until Thread finally stopped falling at last and the dragonriders winked /between/ back home.

F'lin stripped Seneth of his riding straps but left the bronze sunning himself on their ledge, eyes half-slitted with satisfaction as he watched the Weyr below. His rider trudged down the stairs to the dragonhealers' infirmary, his calves aching at each step.

The scents of char, numbweed, redwort and the musk of dragons assaulted his nose as he looked to see if he could find the nearest healer-- a willowy woman with hands stained red and pale, fine hair that floated around her face like wisps of fog. F'lin approched her. "Hi?"

Skyvra blinked, but turned to face the newcomer with a smile - a smile that faltered and faded in an instant. In its place was professionalism. The dragonhealer straightened up, dropped her hands to her side, and looked the rider over stonily. "Bronzerider," she greeted, eyes lingering on that knot for perhaps a second longer than was necessary. She smiled again when she looked him in the face, but this time it was thin and strained. "How can I help you?"

The bronzerider hesitated, taken aback at the change in her demeanor. Did he know her? Had he done something? "I wanted to check on Gemenorth and talk to someone about his prognosis."

Skyvra nodded. "Gemenorth - a brown with a threadscore on his shoulder, right? He'll need to avoid flying for at least a month, preferably longer. It will be a minimum of a turn before he's ready to return to the wings. The score was dangerously close to his neck and did a lot of damage to his muscles. But he'll live, and that's the important thing."

"Thank the Egg." But Gemenorth out of the Wing for a Turn was a blow... the brown was experienced and his steady presence balanced any nine he was in. F'lin rubbed the back of his neck. "I can let N'pecha know that Gemenorth will be alright, and that they'll be grounded for a while." The rider was in the Infirmary, half-asleep and doped up in fellis. Thread had chewed on his leg like a canine with a bone.

"I can tell him if you'd rather not spend the time," Skyvra offered.

**What?!** What was that supposed to mean?! F'lin started trawling back through his memory to see if he'd said something rude earlier. "I'm going there anyway to speak to a few of my other riders. While I've got you, what about Rocuth?" The green dragon's injury hadn't sounded nearly as bad.

Skyvra's lips twitched - neigh-imperceptibly, certainly indescribably. "The external damage was minimal, but the threadscore went deep and infection set in in her bone. It's likely that we will need to amputate her right foreleg," she flatly said.

F'lin did wince. "Oh no... do you know if anyone has spoken to her rider yet?" Binnadi would be devastated.

Skyvra raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that something that you should know, given that she's _your_ rider?"

A hot rush of anger made F'lin pause. "Excuse me?" Maybe he'd misheard.

"I don't know what you could be confused about," Skyvra said. "I'm just saying that it's interesting that a Wingsecond hasn't taken more interest in the care of one of his injured riders." She paused, wetting her lips. "Or perhaps it isn't, all things considered."

"Get me a Journeyman to speak with, _Apprentice,_" F'lin snapped, temper flaring. Threadfall, death, injury, and now this!? "_Now_."

"Why?" Skyvra asked, tilting her head to the side. "The big bronzerider can't handle a little honesty or think of a way to respond without throwing his rank around? I'm just saying, it's no surprise that a green wasn't a priority to you."

F'lin clenched his fist. "_You_ are the one wasting my time when my Wing needs me," he snarled before pushing past her and heading deeper into the Infirmary, barely seeing the hallway in front of him. He wanted to smack that smug smile off her face. He wanted to throw her to Thread. Was that the sort of person the Weyrdragonhealer let deal with traumatized dragonriders!?

Instead he reached for Seneth's calm to help steady his pounding heart. Whatever her knots, that woman didn't belong in the Infirmary, and he was going to do his best to get rid of her-- later. Right now he had riders to see to and dragons to check, and a proper report to get from someone _competant_. She didn't matter. Not really.

Skyvra didn't bother trying to hide her sneer as F'lin stormed away. Classic bronzerider, too caught up in his own ego to care about the people around him. To think that _they_ were the men who were hailed as Pern's best and brightest.

Still, it was fine. Let him rage. Some impotent, arrogant man's fury was of no consequence to her.

Last updated on the July 2nd 2024

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Impotent Rage