|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 17, 2018 10:17 pm
|
|
|
|
Alquemieth suffered from the same affliction many before him had: he was young, restless, and in want. Though barely two months old, and growing faster than Ar'din anticipated, the bronze was ready to kick off from the ground and flame Thread. More than that, he was willing to lead a wing--not quite ready, as Alque knew he and His needed more lessons still of course, but the need to command sat in his chest like a stone he couldn't dislodge. It was this and unfortunate luck that he managed to pull a leg muscle during lessons that day, and now he had to nurse it while Ar'din took a look.
Healer he might be, but dragonhealing wasn't his specialty. They had started giving them lessons past basic nutrition, and he did have basic human first aid down, but Ar'din's specialty was acupuncture, and he doubted Alquemieth would be much better for it if he mistranslated the geography of the human body to a dragon's and just poked him full of needles for no reason. Well, other than to be a p***k himself.
You should explain that to me one day, Alquemieth said, his jaw tightening as he stretched his back paw out. What are you injecting?
"Not injecting," Ar'din said as he pressed a bag of ice to the affected muscle. The bronze stifled a low growl, eyes colored with frustration, but kept still to let him work. "It's about a lot of things, depending on what style you're taught. But mostly pressure points. Everything's connected, in a way. Uses a lot of maps."
Like navigating the seas?
"Not that kind. I'll show you later."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 17, 2018 11:37 pm
|
|
|
|
Alquemieth, ever in need of seeming composed, stiffened and raised his head at the greenrider pair, almost forgetting not to move his injured leg. A quick swat from Ar’din stopped him, and he rumbled in displeasure.
“Someone we know?” the weyrling asked without looking up.
One of my sisters, the bronze replied. With a striking pattern and a delicate gait, she was...pleasant to look at, but much too soft, like so many others. Ileneth didn’t seem injured, however, so what were they there for, he wondered. Her call went unanswered, as many things did with him unless pressed, but Alque did ask her, In need of something?
“Cool. Hey, hold this down for me,” Ar’din said to his fellow weyrling, indicating the bag of ice on his dragon’s upper thigh. “Hard as you can. Need to grab a thing.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|