Accidents Happen (R'gar)

[Lady Smara]

Twenty turns. It had been twenty turns since her world had finally lost the last of its color and had become completely black. It’s true, the young woman Prontin had not been born blind, but none of the healers could explain why her sight had begun to leave her during her second turn, her eyes completely milking over in her third. For the following twenty turns, the young girl spent learning how to move and navigate through the Lower Caverns. Even how to feed and dress herself had taken her parents countless hours, unsure of how to instruct a child who could not see the examples.

Living in the world of darkness, it is no wonder Prontin had her moments when she wished to see the sky and feel the sun on her skin. That morning had been one of those days. It was not uncommon to see the blind woman standing several feet from one of the less used entrances to the Weyr Bowl, but only once had she been brave enough to actually step outside and into the sunlight on her own. This morning she had gone to her usual position, several feet inside the doorway and simply stood, listening to the soft noise of the outside world.

Truth be told, she wasn’t even sure if the sun was out then. All she could really be sure of was that it was not raining and that the cooks were busy cleaning up breakfast and beginning lunch. With that, she was guessing it would be mid morning and hopefully some sort of light outside. Her skin was so fair and her sense of touch was sensitive. It was easy for her to tell when the light of the sun shone upon it, especially in this southern Weyr with its warm rays. She couldn’t help but want to feel it again this morning… and wash away the guilt that had been plaguing her dreams for the past sevenday.

While the gold flight had ended and with it the desires that were so unnatural to her, Prontin still found herself dreaming of that faceless man who had guided her through the hallways that she had navigated on her own a thousand times before. He was out there, somewhere in the sunlight – after all, every dragonrider spent their days in the sun and in the sky, not hiding beneath the stone where there was always a wall to guide you. The dangers of her getting lost out in the open are what had kept the young woman inside for so long.

The sound of children came through the doorway to Prontin’s ears and she quickly stepped closer to the wall on her right, a smile on her face. She knew kids often used this doorway and when a ruckus sounded off like that it usually meant a game of tag. Sure enough she felt the wind and heard the foot falls of the children as they ran past. Stepping a little further from the wall again, she turned back to that doorway and breathed in the fresh air – just as the yap of a canine sounded directly in front of her.

Letting out a gasp of surprise, Prontin attempted to move to the side again, but she was not fast enough. She felt the animal crash into her legs and the two went down in a tumble of skirts and fur. The children were around her instantly laughing and pulling at the canine, but when Prontin did not laugh along, one who recognized her from classes spoke up.

“Miss Prontin? Are you okay? Why are you holding your leg? I promise Flip didn’t mean to hurt you. Flip would never hurt anyone.” The voice was a young one she recognized from her father’s classes she helped teach the ballads to. Young Rozzin, and she could hear the worry in his voice. Try as hard as she could, however, she could not keep the tears at bay as she gingerly touched her own ankle.

“Rozzin, listen to me…” she said, her voice wavering. “I need you to run to the infirmary, okay? Do you know where that is?”

“Everyone knows where the infirmary is, Miss Prontin.” The young boy said matter of fact. Understanding that she was asking for help, he nodded despite knowing well enough that she couldn’t see, it was a force of habit. “I’ll go get help.”

The young woman listened to the boy run back out the entrance way to the Bowl, the other children on his heels by the sound of it. She was sure the first words out of their mouths would be the fact that they didn’t do it, but Prontin had no question that they would at least bring someone back. Attempting to move her leg only sent shocks of pain throughout it and she could feel her ankle burning. With tears flowing down her face, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall behind her.

Accidents happened… she just often found herself wondering how many of them she could avoid if she could simply see like any normal person.

[Marnark]

They really didn't like him being around. Partly because he was an outsider, and partly because of his outsider ways. His outsider methods. The craft of Healing was two different beasts, apparently, when it came to the North and South. Southern Infirmaries were still very tradition locked with not a whole lot of advancement. However ... all that aside, they couldn't deny needing the help. So when he didn't have anything else to do related to dealing with Apollath, in the Infirmary was usually where R'gar found himself spending his time. He'd sortof learned to be a little more tactful at trying to introduce new ideas to the Healers ... sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.

He hadn't been doing much of anything at all when a posse of over excited kids and a canine burst into the infirmary clamoring about something completely incomprehensible for all the voices saying it. Covering the bowls of herbal mixes he'd been preparing for salves, presses, teas and decoctions, he managed to single out one child in particular even as another healer tried to calm the whole lot down. None of them appeared hurt, thank Faranth.

After the chaotic story of someone having gotten hurt in a fall, it was quickly decided that someone would go take care of it. Who? Well, R'gar was a shoe in for being volonteered, for many reasons. It would get him out of their infirmary, he was big enough to pick up just about anyone, and he didn't mind working outside of an infirmary either.

It only took him a moment to throw some things together into a first aid bag, and he followed the children back out of the infirmary to wherever it was that this person had taken a spill so tragically. He didn't know what to expect; anything was possible in a Weyr, apparently. R'gar only hoped that the individual hadn't fallen from too high. There certainly was no shortage of places to fall from! And everywhere to land was stone. Unforgiving stone. He feared what he might find when he got where he was going.

It was much to his surprise to be led into a tunnel, of all places for a fall victim to be found. That surprise was mitigated a bit when he saw who it was that had fallen. That ... made it easier to understand. Sortof. Quickly he stepped past her and around to the far side, setting the bag on the stone floor as he crouched to inspect the damage.

"What happened?" He asked simply, wary of moving the afflicted limb before knowing just what had happened first. A break would need to be handled much differently than a sprain. Asking if she was alright, as most people would have done, was also a moot point. There was nothing alright about what he saw, even without considering the tears rolling down her cheeks.

All the while, he was trying to remember her name. He recognized her; she'd be pretty hard to not recognize. There weren't very many women with milky eyes, after all. But recalling her name from the haze of clouded memory was harder. P-something...? R'gar was usually pretty good with names, and he wasn't used to not being able to recall one on demand. But then that whole evening (had it been evening-?) had been completely unusual, the day he'd initially met her.

Maybe if he was lucky she wouldn't recognize him.

[Lady Smara]

Prontin had heard the children coming back and was not surprised to hear them stop outside the tunnel. After all they had been playing and really wanted to just go back to that. The sooner they could escape the better of a chance they would have to dodge being blamed for the accident. Honestly the woman couldn’t really blame them anyways, she was the one who had been in the way despite being told all of her life to stay out of the way and near the walls.

Heavier foot falls broke through the silence and echoed down the hall. Prontin did not lift her eyes to follow the sound however, instead she kept the downcast feeling guilty for the need to make the healers come to her instead of going to them like she normally would if she were to cut herself (something that happened on a regular basis when she attempted to help the kitchen drudges). The smell of the infirmary was strong as the larger body moved closer and she listened to it finally stop next to her, a light bump on the floor accompanying the stop of the foot falls.

“What happened?” the voice broke the silence, but as soon as it did she heard the small feet of the children race off. Then that meant the question was directed to her if the children had taken it as their que that they had done all they were asked to do. Prontin lifted the hand that had been resting on her upper leg and skirt that did not match her large tunic at all.

Pointing toward her ankle as best as she could, Prontin winced as the blood going through her veins left it throbbing terribly. “I had stepped in the way of a running canine by mistake.” Letting out her breath as she attempted to keep her composure despite the pain, she wiped away another tear, her face still turned downward. “I don’t think the poor thing was hurt at all, but my ankle feels like it’s on fire. It throbs and I don’t think it will hold my weight.”

Sniffing to keep her nose from running, she caught the slight hint of dragon oil. It surprised her as she had heard no additional footsteps coming down the tunnel. Breathing much more quietly, she attempted to pick up the trace again, wondering where the smell was coming from, but the second time she only caught the strong smell of the Infirmary and its herbs and salves. Maybe she was imagining it… No, her mind was defiantly playing tricks on her after the restless nights. The voice had a deep resonance to it, so she knew it was a male healer she was dealing with and she felt bad she could not produce a name as she usually sought out one of the familiar female healers when she took herself to the infirmary by the long back tunnels.

[Marnark]

R'gar listened to her rendition of the events that had happened, and to what she reported feeling in it. Well ... the good news was that from what she said it might not be broken. Fractured, maybe. Hopefully only sprained. "Okay. I'm going to see what I can find out about the injury itself. You let me know what you feel, and if it hurts too much just let me know." R'gar instructed, before carefully sliding all items off her her foot and baring the afflicted ankle.

It sure was a livid color, and already showed signs of some swelling. Very gently he felt of it, but didn't feel any of the telltale signs of being completely busted off. A fracture was still possible, but he had no way of telling that. He had some numbweed salve with him for it, but that would have to wait until he knew what he was dealing with. "I'm glad you didn't try to stand on it." He commented, and was saddened to think how terrible it was. To not only be blind, but unable to stand and walk. What a tiny world hers just became. All for an accident.

"I suspect it's a nasty sprain, but that's all it is." Luckily. Not that it was going to be any less painful. "I am going to apply some numbweed, and then splint it just in case." he explained, even as he started applying the cool salve to the puffy area. "I can get you back to the infirmary, and there I can get you something to put on it that should help control the swelling and speed healing." Luckily he had a very effective healing salve that he was quite fond of. It worked very well.

[Lady Smara]

Prontin closed her eyes tightly and turned her head to face over her shoulder, though she could see none of what was going on anyways, as he began to slide her well worn boot off her foot. It sent a sharp sting of pain through her leg and she bit her lip in attempts to keep from crying out. A fresh wave of tears rolled down her face as he gingerly felt her ankle. It felt as if it was on fire underneath his touch, yet she knew the healer was trying to be careful.

Searching for anything to focus on beyond the pain, she listened more carefully to the deep voice that was speaking gently to her. It held a quality that seemed to tickle the back of her mind, as if there was a foggy memory of it. Perhaps she had spoken to him in the infirmary before? She was relieved to hear that it may be only a sprain, she hated to think of how she would get around with a broken leg.

The cool touch of the numbweed against her seemingly burning flesh had her gasping out loud. Putting the back of her hand to her lips, she winced again but forced herself to hold still. Attempting to pull her ankle out of his reach would only hurt more. Even so, as the cool salve was spread, she felt it working almost instantly. That sudden gasp turned into a sigh.

“I am glad it may only be a sprain. Who is it that I have the pleasure to thank for such kind treatment?” Sniffing, she lifted a sleeve of her large tunic to her face and brushed away the tears that had wet her cheeks. It still hurt and she would probably not be able to walk on it for a while, but the numbweed was taking affect. That was one thing she was thankful for – medicine worked extra well on her body and she only ever needed a small amount. It was the same reason she was so careful to steer away from wine and quickal, she guessed it would have the same affect on her.

[Marnark]

He was quick with his ministering, waiting only long enough for the tell tale signs that she couldn't feel the limb anymore. Once that was accomplished, he quickly splinted it with supplies from the bag he had brought, carefully cushioning the ankle in copious amounts of soft fabric. She was mostly quiet despite everything, and he couldn't help but be impressed with her pain tolerance. But then ... considering how many bumps and bruises she probably got in a single day just trying to get around .... there was probably a reason for that.

... She didn't recognize him. Small mercies. But that was completely shattered by her asking who he was. Sigh. Begin the awkwardness. He offered a small laugh. "I'm R'gar." He answered, plain and simple. No elaborations, nothing to stumble over. Just the truth. What she might say in answer to that, he was slightly unsure if he wanted to know. In the meantime he just repacked his bag in preparation of moving her. This time ... he was going to have to carry her. No two ways about it. At least this time, that wasn't going to be a problem for him!

[Lady Smara]

“I’m R’gar.”

Short, simple and to the point. Even so, the answer till hit Prontin like a brick and for a moment she forgot she was suppose to breath. Instantly she understood the familiarity in his voice and that hint of dragonoil she had caught earlier. Feeling the skin along her spine prickle as a tingle ran its length, Prontin barely managed to remind herself to breathe.

“Oh…” she finally said softly, trying to force her suddenly frozen muscles to move. This man before her now, busy move things around – maybe in a bag? – was the one who had walked her home that night. She reminded herself a thousand times a day that she was lucky it had been him, a man who did not take advantage of her state rather than a rider on the prowl. Small in frame and blind, there was no one in the Weyr more vulnerable.

Unsure of how she felt about being once more at this man’s mercy, she unconsciously bundled her long skirts around her a little more closely. This is different though, there is no flight and he is a healer, he even smells like one. “I… I thought you were a rider, R’gar… what are you doing smelling of the infirmary.” Realizing what she had said, she corrected herself quickly. “I mean, you have healers equipment with you… and you know so much…”

[Marnark]

She definitely remembered him. Apparently even people in a haze remembered him. Back home, he hadn't been memorable at all. Awkward. Picking up the sling to the back and slipping it over his shoulder, he considered his options. There really weren't a whole lot of them. She still needed to go to the infirmary and get proper remedies applied now that the immediate issue was dealt with.

However ... considering how she was gathering herself up into a smaller package on realization of who he was ... maybe he should get someone else to move her. He could certainly understand why she would be reluctant to be near him. That evening had been ... awkward at best. Possibly terrifying for her at worst.

R'gar smiled slightly at her question. Yeah, he'd noticed that lines of occupation didn't tend to cross here. They hadn't up North either. "I am a Rider. I am also a Healer. When I don't have anything dragon-related to do, I work in the infirmary." Now all she needed to know was that he was also a foreigner. Then she probably really wouldn't want him anywhere in the vicinity. "Are you ready to go to the infirmary, or would you rather I send for someone else to help you?" Complete honesty usually helped.

[Lady Smara]

Prontin found her curiosity awakened at the mention that he could be both a healer and a rider. She had met the blue weyrling who had once been a harper – but she had thought he had traded one craft for another. Never before had Prontin thought you could actually continue to study a craft after impression had been made. “Do you do dragonhealing as well?” she asked, a little less nervous now that her curiosity began to get the better of her. She honestly loved to learn, it was that few people had the patience to teach her.

Listening to him ask about the infirmary, she bit her lower lip a moment before finally shaking her head. A blush rose to her pale cheeks as she silently scolded herself. This was different and just like the other night, he was simply trying to help. “No, you don’t need to get someone else.” Letting out a light laugh, she listened to it quiver a moment before growing a little stronger. “If my memory serves me, I think you’re more than capable of helping little ol’ me.”

Reaching around her carefully, she let her fingertips brush the ground lightly until she found the place he had set her boot after taking it off. She picked it up carefully, using the other hand to feel for the laces she knew would be hanging down from it. Tucking them into the top with all of her attention to detail, she finally placed the boot in her lap between her legs and stomach. This wouldn’t be the first time the blind woman would be carried to the Infirmary.

Turning her eyes back toward where she believed the man to be, her milky grey eyes stared at his chest. “I am ready.” She said simply. Prontin would sit still as the man picked her up, letting him adjust her weight first before she would hold carefully onto him. She had also learned attempted to adjust her own weight would simply make it harder for her carrier to hold onto her and keep her from falling. The last thing she wanted to do now was fall on her tender ankle.

[Marnark]

"Dragonhealing?" R'gar asked. "No. I don't know the first thing about dragonhealing. I'm afraid I'm only good for people and non-draconid beasts." He admitted. "I ... well ... I never studied them to know." Nevermind he hadn't been entirely sure Dragons existed some mere two turns ago. Much less flitters and what not. It really was like a life stepped right out of an old tale. And it was his, and irrevocable.

R'gar waited as she situated herself, noting that this clearly wasn't going to be her first trip to the infirmary under someone else's power. "I do try." He answered her comment of him being competent in helping. But then ... hadn't he already told her that before? He couldn't remember. His memory of that particular span of time wasn't the best. Which did bother him somewhat. When she seemed ready, he shifted his slung bag around to behind him, and crouched to scoop her up. One arm around her back, and the other under her knees. Her ankle should be suitable isolated for it to be a comfortable enough way to travel.

R'gar lifted her from the floor, taking pains to make sure to not overbalance. Picking her up wasn't much a strain, between her being a lightly built gal and his being an overbuilt fellow that really didn't fit the idea of a Healer. R'gar took a moment to ensure everything was in order, and then proceeded to carry her to the infirmary. He didn't dally about; while she wasn't a particularly heavy person, carrying any size person was tiring after a while.

He turned about to use a shoulder to shove through the infirmary door, and then carried her across the room to a stool. Technically all she needed was a place to sit, and any normal person would have been fine with that. But considering she was blind ... probably not a good idea. So he bypassed the stool and set her on one of the beds instead. A larger surface for her to sit on, and brace herself on if she needed it, instead of a gulf of open empty air to grope at. "Hang on. I'm going to go get some medicines." He told her, before slinging the bag off his shoulder and setting that down, too. Knowing just where what he wanted was, he didn't waste any time going to get it.

[Lady Smara]

Prontin had been right about R’gar, there was plenty of him to be able to lift her with ease. She didn’t even feel a twitch or shudder in his body that might have signaled that she was pushing their weight limit. Of course, he was a rider as well as a healer, so she could only imagine he would have more muscle than most of the other healers. While she rarely spoke of it to others, there was a lot you could tell about a person and their body when they are holding you – something she was sure nobody ever put thought into.

His chest was broad, broader than she had remembered from the night several days before. Well built with strong arms beneath her, Prontin wondered briefly how long the man had been a rider and if other riders seemed as incredibly large. Lifting her hands to the shoulder closest to her head, she rested them upon it to help steady herself. The blind woman did almost jump when something brushed the back of her hand, however, and as they walked she did take a moment to turn her hand over and find the end of a short pony tail tickling her finger tips. Putting her hand back on his shoulder, she gave a small smile to nobody in particular – she didn’t hear of many men keeping a ponytail or even long hair for that matter.

It was not long before she found herself gently placed upon a bed in the Infirmary. She recognized the smells and the sounds of the place, though she couldn’t say where it was that she sat exactly – they had not taken the path she normally took to this section of the Weyr. With new routes, it was far too easy for Prontin to get turned around. As she sat patiently, she moved the boot from her lap and onto the bed next to her, carefully brushing off her clothes as well.

She had listened to his footsteps as they walked away and she found herself glad to hear they had not gone too far. Speaking a little louder so he could hear her, she said, “Thank you again, R’gar.” Folding her hands gently in her lap, it dawned on her she had never asked a question she would normally ask any rider she met. “R’gar, I’ve never asked you and it was very rude of me. How is your Dragon?”

[Marnark]

Those fingers of hers never did seem to stop when it came to exploring. If she hadn't been blind, it might have been considered entirely rude. Or ... something else. But as it was, he did understand that it was how she saw. And naturally curiosity would drive anyone to explore something that flickered in and out of apparent reality ... like his hair. It was really weird to have someone mess with it at all, even if only in passing. Just ... weird.

"Don't think anything of it. I'm just doing my job." R'gar dismissed it. It was true, too. It was his job, and (at least this time) didn't put him out anything at all. It was nice to know, though, that there didn't seem to be much problem holdover from their initial meeting. That was nice.

"He's alright. Sleeping at the moment actually." He answered, somewhat distracted by what he was doing. Lifting jars down off of shelves, he twisted the lids off and set the lids down as well before fetching out a couple of bowls and dishing some of the contents out into them. Picking up the prepared bowls, he carried them back over to where she was sitting. R'gar set the bowls next to her and paused a moment to drag over a short stool to sit on himself. "He really likes his sun, and it's a nice day out today. So that's what he elected to spend the day doing I guess. Sleeping in the sun." Personally, he found the sun a tich too bright to try sleeping in it. Not to mention hot. The weather here just never did cool off.

Very carefully, he picked up her ankle via her calf, and propped it up on his own knee. Safely suspended so, he took care unwrapping it again. Setting the wrappings aside, he used a bowl of water and redwort solution to clean the whole area with, removing all the excess numbweed. The whole thing was probably going to be numb for several hours already, even with the salve washed off. Once it was nice and clean, he applied a generous layer of the healing salves to her ankle, and rewrapped it in fresh soft cloth. Splints were added, and then more cloth to hold it all in place.

"Do you have anyone that can help you regularly with this? By regularly I mean at least twice a day, if not more often." R'gar asked. "I'm going to give you a jar of this cream, and you're going to need it applied at least twice a day. Better if more often. You're also probably going to want more numbweed about that often too." He advised. But he could completely understand how difficult it would be for her to take care of it herself. Wrappings weren't the easiest things to figure out even when a body could see them. If need be, he figured he could make sure it got tended to for her, but it would be better if someone she interacted with regularly did it. Either a spouse, parent, or sibling. Someone she might live with.

The thought that she might have a spouse lurking around somewhere made him even more glad that he'd managed to escape the other night without doing anything untoward. That ... might have been a rather difficult thing to straighten out. If it could be straightened out at all.

[Lady Smara]

Prontin listened to objects being moved and in the back of her mind she placed the sounds with the type of material it was made out of. A lighter clink meant glass, which would more than likely be a jar here in the infirmary. The duller thud would be wood though she could not match that with a specific object, there would be too many. Even as her mind unconsciously placed the items, she also listened to the words he spoke about his dragon.

“Oh I cannot blame him for enjoying the sun.” she said simply, her hands on the edge of the bed as she rocked a little forward and a little back while she waited. “It is wonderfully warm on the skin.” Being unable to see her own complexion, Prontin did not realize how contradictory that statement may have seemed with her very pale skin here in the South of all places.

While Prontin no longer felt much of her ankle, she did feel her knee extend when he lifted her leg by the calf. It was a large hand that nearly engulfed her small leg and she attempted to put it with the picture she was slowly painting in her mind of this rider, R’gar. Tall, broad shoulders, long hair and large hands. It was slowly coming together.

Listening to his concern about her having someone to help, she smiled over his shoulder once more. “My father will help me with it the first few times until I learn the movement.” It was the way most necessities worked – her parents were busy and she was and adult now after all. They would take what time they could to help her out whenever necessary, but if it was something they could teach her how to do after a few practice runs they would. After all, there were more kids the Weyr Harper needed to be focused on.

It was also a matter of pride for Prontin. Yes she would admit that she needed help in certain areas, and there were just some things she simply could not do. But the more she could find that she could do, especially when it came to caring for herself, she would find a way to do it. It made her feel more whole, more complete and most certainly more independent.

[Marnark]

She seemed happy, despite the banged up leg. It was a good sign. Happy people tended to heal faster than the rest. At least, that was his own personal observation and belief. "Sun is good, I admit." R'gar answered. He got enough of it just in the normal course of a day so wasn't terribly enthralled in it. Especially since he'd come from the North where there was far less sun to go around. He got too much of it here. But by the looks of her, she almost never went outside. Which was understandable. Just like the stool would be an empty gulf, standing outside was probably much the same for her. No walls, and no sense of direction.

Her father would help her. Good. "Here. This is what you're going to need to put on it to help it heal. I closed it up with a cork." R'gar took one of her hands, and placed the jar in it before releasing her hand, allowing her a moment to touch and 'see' the jar. "And this one is numbweed. Use it as you feel you need to, but do try to not overdo it. Pain is just a messenger and will prevent you from hurting it further before it's healed." He explained, repeating the gesture for another jar. "This one is just a plain screw on lid." R'gar had taken pains to make sure the two jars would be different enough for her to tell apart. "If you ever need help with this, feel free to send for me."

"I would give you a crutch to use in place of your foot, but ... ah. Well, let's just say I think you'd do better to just stay off your feet until you're healed." He told her. Crutches and blind people really didn't go together very well.

[Lady Smara]

Prontin listened careful as he caught her hand and placed the first jar in it. Just as her leg had been dwarfed in his hand, it seemed her hand was destined to be as well. She felt the callouses that covered his palms and fingers and it added color to her world drawn from textures. Lifting her other hand to the jar, she felt its shape as well as confirming that it did have a cork lid. Taking extra precaution, she also made sure she could get the lid opened. Upon doing so she took a slight sniff of what was inside before closing it again. She had learned her lesson before when her father had mistakenly put several jars of the same variety on her desk. It had been a nightmare.

Setting the first jar down careful, she let him guide her hand to the second jar. Repeating the steps, it was not long before she put that jar down as well. Sitting there a moment she chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. She would have to take his word that a ‘crutch’ would not be useful to her. Prontin assumed it would be because she would not be able to see to use it, but she was sure she would find a way to manage.

Telling someone to stay of their feet and having that person actually do it tended to be two very different things. A frown tugging at her lips, she took a moment to find the right question to ask. He had been so kind and helpful to her thus far, both today and several days prior, that she did not want to offend him by simply telling him she couldn’t do as he asked. “How long will I need to stay off my feet?” she finally asked, a hint of disappointment coloring her voice.