There are 2 messages in this issue.
Topics in this digest:
1. [DL-W] Good Advice, Bad Listeners (JP)
From: trissana@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
2. [USS Capricorn] And a patooba is?
From: "Tree Deutscher" <treedr@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
Message: 1
Date: Mon, 4 Apr 2005 00:14:49 EDT
From: trissana@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
[DL-W] Good Advice, Bad Listeners (JP)
Day 15
Dalmar was troubled. Despite all his best efforts, he still had
the
feeling that dragons really didn't trust him to work on them, not like
they did
with Ari. There was something about her that made it easier to relate
to them.
Probably, he thought, it had something to do with her having grown up
around
wild dragons, while he himself had been trained in the clinics of
Tinobal.
Dragons didn't like going to Tinobal any more than people did, so maybe
part of
its ambience had rubbed off on him.
He was just coming back from a "housecall" on a dragon who needed
a
bandage checked on his wing membrane when he noticed that he was just
passing the
hatching cavern. Hm, now that was an idea. Tucking his black bag
under his
arm, he walked inside. *Hello!* he called. *Can I come in? *
Chrysthal was turning the eggs in the warm sand as the dragonhealer
entered the cavern. She was at first fearful that he'd come to examine
her, having
heard some horror stories from a number of the dragons concerning him.
She
had witnessed his care of the injured wilder female and had thought it
quite
adequate, if a bit gruff.
<But of course,> the lavender queen answered. <Do you wish to
examine
the eggs?>
Dalmar opened his mouth in surprise, not having expected to be
asked
that. *Of course!* he said, and made his way carefully among them. He
ran his
hands over the nearest egg, feeling the warm and hardening shell. He
gave it a
slight tap and felt the texture, then placed his ear against it.
*I think they're doing well...at least, as well as can be
expected,* he
told her. *Have you noticed anything unusual about them? You've had a
lot
more experience in being around eggs than I have, of course.*
<The dragonettes seem to be developing fairly well, despite their
initial trauma. They aren't very talkative yet. Just beginning to
become aware
that we are out here, I think.>
Dalmar sighed. *Well, hopefully it's you they'll first become
aware of,
and not me - otherwise, they might decide they don't want to come out.
I
seem to have that effect on dragons, for some reason.* Moving away
from the eggs
he put his hands behind his back and paced a few steps back and forth.
*Chrysthal, since you're a dragon yourself, perhaps you could give me
some
pointers? I mean, maybe you could sort of tell me what I could change
that would make
the dragons like me better?*
Chrysthal found Dalmar to be amusing. <I can't imagine why
dragons
don't like you. You are very funny. But, yes, I've heard a few things
from some
of the dragons. I suppose they don't think you understand them very
well.>
*I don't understand that,* said Dalmar, then realized what he was
saying. *Hm, well, maybe that's part of the problem...say, perhaps you
could show
me? I mean, I could do an examination on you and you could tell me
just what
it is that I'm doing wrong?*
Chrysthal blanched slightly, but she was a queen and if the other
dragons had to have exams, then she should find out what all the
trouble was. She
would have given her okay, but it seemed unnecessary for as soon as
Dalmar had
made the suggestion, he grew excited and began to remove some rather
nasty
looking things from his bag in preparation. It was as if he assumed
already that
she'd agree. <Well, yes, I suppose.... What is all of that?>
Chrysthal
asked, a bit startled.
*Oh, just my tools,* he said. *For instance, I use this for
checking
reflexes.* He held up a rubber mallet with a wooden handle. Setting
it down,
he picked up another implement, a narrow piece of wood as long as a
sword but
broader at the end. *Tongue depressor,* he explained. *This is for
listening
to heartbeats and such things,* he said, holding up an ear trumpet with
a
rubber coating on the wide end. *Wire brush, for scale cleanings,* he
continued,
*and of course, the needles are for taking blood samples and injecting
medicines when needed. I'm sure you don't need any medicine, but it
never hurts to
be sure!*
<Dalmar, if I may...?> Chrysthal eyed the instruments before her
with a
great deal of suspicion. Though she could see that Dalmar really liked
his
****ny metal tools and the sharp looking "needles" she could easily see
why
dragons might find his examinations scary.
*Yes?* he asked, then followed her gaze down to the instruments.
*Oh, I
see...you mean the needles?* He sighed, picking up the needles and
depositing them into his bag.
*Well, do any of these others look non-threatening enough, or
should I
just put them all away?* He looked reluctantly down at his
instruments, but
after all he *was* trying to learn a new way of doing things.
<Perhaps displaying these...tools... is not a good way to start
your
examinations,> Chrysthal advised. <Isn't there something else you can
start with
first? Get the feel of your patient and build some confidence?
Perhaps... a
nice massage?> Chrysthal sounded wistful, as it had been a while since
she
had had one.
*Um...oh, ok,* said Dalmar, slowly putting his instruments away,
one by
one, as though reluctant to part with them. When he was finished, he
stood up
and walked over to the queen. *Ok, I'm game, just tell me where to
start,
and talk to me while I'm working so I'll know if I'm doing it right.*
This was
all much more Ari's style than his. *Oh, and you'll need to lay down,
right?*
<Yes, of course,> Chrysthal affirmed. <Can't expect you to climb
up
here, now can I? But if I were a patient, you might ask me politely to
stretch
out, like this.> Which she did.
*Oops, sorry,* he said. *Would you please stretch out?* he asked,
as
the queen stretched her lithe body out to its full length. When she
looked at
him as though to ask why he was asking her to do something she was
already
doing, he said, *I wanted to get in practice of saying that.* He
looked her over
from nose to tail. *Um, ok, tell me where to start that will get you
relaxed
so we can talk about your medical condition. Um, or better yet, forget
that I
said that last part. Just tell me where you would like me to massage
you!*
He gave her a wide smile, something Ari had suggested.
<I would suggest starting at the least threatening place...
perhaps the
wing joints?> Chrysthal looked at his grimacing face and asked, <Are
you in
pain?>
*No, I'm okay,* Dalmar told her, moving over to the queen's left
wing
and beginning to massage the joints. *I'll try to work out the kinks
here...though you don't seem to have many.* He traced a finger along a
segment of wing
membrane next to the joint he was working on. *Well maintained, too,
your
rider must oil these pretty frequently. Am I doing this right? There
were
special types of healers at Tinobal who cured things through massages
and
manipulating bone joints, but I wasn't one of those, so you'll have to
sort of guide me
along.*
<Ahhh... yes... that's good there. I think... ummm... massage
must
be... ahhh.. one of a dragons... oooo, not so rough there... favorite
things...
mmmm...> Chrysthal practically purred as Dalmar moved from joint to
wingtip and
then back. He climbed up and over Chrysthal's back and began on the
other
side. <Not being joined to a dragon... must make it difficult... oh,
ahhh, yes,
good... for you to get a feel for your...groan... patients.>
*Well, it does,* Dalmar admitted, *though my patients have no
problem
about telling me if they don't like something I'm doing. I've gotten 3
or 4
bruises just in the last week or so from my patients, and my hair has
just
recently grown back from when one of my Telnor patients blew sparks at
me. It does
get very frustrating!* As he got onto that familiar subject, his
attention
was on the queen's eyes as she watched him, and thus wasn't watching
what he
was doing. *I should probably have some sort of padded armor suit made
for this
sort of work.*
His wandering hands hit a particularly sensitive spot, just as
Chrysthal
was thinking that she wished it were Merissa or Ari doing the massage.
She
reacted out of reflex before she realized what she was doing, and her
tail
snapped up and walloped the poor healer across the rump. <Oh! Sorry!
Uh... you
hit a spot....>
Dalmar's healer-trained mind reacted before his better sense did,
and as
soon as he had picked himself up, he probed the same spot with his
fingers
while launching a barrage of questions at her. *Does this hurt? Has
it been
like this long? Have you had tests run...?*
Her tail snapped round and smacked him again, as his fingers
probed
that tender place, <Dalmar, stop! Oh, I'm very sorry!> Chrysthal held
out a
claw for Dalmar to pull himself up with as he once again found himself
sprawled
on the ground. <Perhaps it might have been wiser to ask me first
before
pressing that spot again? I think it is just a naturally sensitive
spot for me.
Nothing unusual in that, is there?> Chrysthal suddenly began to
wonder.
Dalmar shook his head to clear it, and then frowned. *Well, maybe
not.
I can look more closely later. Perhaps I should move on to someplace
else?*
>From his standpoint, another spot would probably be much safer.
<Please tell me there is nothing wrong with that... spot... being
sensitive like that?> Chrysthal asked, wondering what type of tests
Dalmar was
thinking should have been run. Was there something wrong with her that
others had
missed?
Dalmar frowned in thought. *Well, I could draw a blood or tissue
sample...* The queen grimaced, and Dalmar thought again. "But there
could be a
simpler explanation. He went over to his bag, and pulled out his quill
pen.
Chrysthal saw the sharp end, and Dalmar had to quickly assure her that
he wasn't
going to stick her with it. Instead, he moved to the trouble spot - on
her
side, just below where the wing joined the body - and touched the
feathery end of
the quill to it. *Now, just hold still, and tell me how this feels,*
he
said. Instead of digging his fingers in, he simply brushed the quill
back and
forth across the sensitive spot in slow, repeated strokes. If there
was some
sort of growth underneath the surface, he'd be worried and tell her
that he
needed to do more tests. But if just touching the surface created the
same
problem, he thought, then....
Chrysthal tried hard to hold still but when that feather brushed
back
and forth her tail whipped around and swatted at Dalmar and his
torturous
feather. <Stop, ohhh! Stop!> And she let out a puff of smoke.
Yet again, Dalmar picked himself up, counting himself lucky that
they
were standing on soft sand instead of some harder surface. *Well,
you're not
going to die or anything,* he assured her, and explained the situation
to the
worried queen.
<A ticklish spot? Is that what it is? Oh... well... but if
that's
common in dragons, perhaps it would be wise for you to avoid tickling
it in the
future? It may save you some bruises.> Chrysthal replied wisely.
Dalmar's jaw dropped. "But I only...you told me to...?* he
spluttered
mentally before sitting down hard on the sand and letting himself flop
backwards. He looked up into the queen's eyes as she bent her head to
look
solicitously down at him. *Okay, good tip, I will write that down,* he
told her with all
the dignity he could muster even, as he grasped the claw she offered to
help
him up again. *Okay, I think your wings are in pretty good shape,
where do
you want me to work next?* He was determined to learn what he could
from her,
and wasn't about to be stopped by a little tail-swat or three.
* * * *
J'red pulled out his quickly compiled agenda. He had thought of
just
having Firefly send the updates and changes through the other dragons,
but as he
had compiled his notes he realized that in some cases there could be
misunderstandings. So, J'red asked Firefly to instead tell the dragons
to inform
their riders that he was calling a meeting with all the riders from his
wing.
Lyraene, like the rest of the dragons, got Firefly's message and
dutifully passed it along to her rider. Who, basically, ignored it.
[Rider, didn't you hear me?] she asked. [We're going to be late,
and I
don't feel like getting in trouble today!]
*Yes, yes, that's very nice,* Nerika said absently. *You go on
without
me, and I'll be there...sometime.*
Lyraene grumbled to herself, wi****ng she could set that ridiculous
"sheet music" on fire to keep it from distracting her rider.
Firefly, knowing that he wouldn't be needed while J'red held his
meeting, flew off to find a comfortable place to sun and be alone. He
found,
instead, a very disheartened cinnamon-colored female dragon, hiding in
one of his
favorite sunning spots. [*Lyraene?*]
She looked up miserably at him. [Hello Firefly,] she said, and
hung her
head. [I did not know you would come looking for me.]
[*I wasn't looking for....*] Firefly began but quickly changed to
ask,
[*And why do you think I am looking for you?*]
[Well...um, because my rider didn't come when your rider called?]
she
asked. [I suppose your rider must be furious, but really, it wasn't my
fault.
I just don't know what to do with that human!]
[*I'm not sure that he's noticed yet. They're meeting in the
dining
hall.*] Firefly replied, [*But still, your rider should be there.
What he has
to say involves some changes to rotations and patrol schedules.*]
[He may have to go and drag her there, then,] Lyraene grumbled.
[I told
her, she just wouldn't come. She thinks that...music stuff...is more
im****tant than anything.]
[*Well, certainly you must explain to her that her duty is to the
wing,
first! You are a
member of our wing and you have responsibilities! We dragons and our
riders
are the only ones that stand between the people and animals of this
domain and
those filthy wraiths and waste monsters! Where is your loyalty to your
wing?*] Firefly sounded very much like J'red at that moment.
Lyraene hung her head in shame. [I am sorry, I do not know what
to do
with her,] she said. [I think she wishes I'd never come along. She
doesn't
want anything to do with dragons or warrens, just with her music. How
could I
expect that she would listen to me when I am just an annoyance to her?]
[*Has she said this to you?*] Firefly asked, incredulously, but
stopped
himself from retorting that she must be wrong, for what human wouldn't
want
to be joined to a dragon? But he could tell that Lyraene was serious.
[*Perhaps we should talk to someone who might have some suggestions to
help you.*]
Firefly suggested.
Lyraene sighed. [I would be willing to talk to anyone who could
tell me
how to make my human do what she is supposed to do! Who do you want me
to
talk to?]
Firefly thought for a moment, but the only suggestion he could
come up
with was.....[*Chrysthal*.]
Lyraene cocked her head. [Well...all right, I suppose if anyone
has the
answer it would be her, wouldn't it? Um, should I go and see her,
then? What
about my rider...?]
[*Yes, let's go see her. She might have a suggestion for her, too.
Perhaps her rider might find some time to speak to yours about the
things that
really matter.*]
Lyraene nodded. [Very well,] the cinnamon dragon said. [I will
do
anything that might help me get my rider straightened out!] She waited
for
Firefly to lead the way.
* * * * *
Chrysthal sighed, <No, Dalmar, a dragon doesn't really enjoy
having a
"tongue depressor" in her mouth, much less having one introduced
without proper
warning. You said you were going to look at my teeth &. Oh, hello.>
Chrysthal looked up as the crimson and cinnamon dragons approached. <
¬ bothering
me at all.>
[*Lyraene would like to talk with you, if you can spare some
time?*]
Firefly announced, including Lyraene in the conversation as well with a
soft
broadcast send.
Lyraene bobbed her head in greeting to the queen. [Chrysthal, I
have a
problem that Firefly thinks you can help me with. My rider refuses to
behave!
Right now, she is messing about with that 'music' stuff of hers when
she has
duties with the wing to perform!]
Dalmar looked up, vaguely hearing Lyraene's mention of a
'problem.' To
him, problems tended to be of one sort. *Is she injured?* he asked the
queen,
trying to see if the cinnamon dragon was limping or displaying any
other
obvious injury. *Or sick?*
<She is sick?> Chrysthal responded, only catching part of
Dalmar's
question. <Shouldn't you take her to a healer then? Firefly,
certainly your
rider can excuse a sick rider from her duties.>
[*But she is not sick, she is simply busy pursuing other things,*]
Firefly responded.
[Yes, she says she always hears things - that 'music' of hers - in
her
head!] Lyraene lamented.
Dalmar, only picking up on part of the whispery-sounding
telepathic
messages that were being directed at the queen instead of to him, shook
his head.
He did not, for instance, hear the part about music. *If she's hearing
things in her head, that's not good!* he asserted. *And what exactly
was
she...pursuing?*
Chrysthal turned and looked at the little human before her.
<Music.
She's hearing music, and aren't you supposed to be examining my eyes
next?>
Then she turned her attention back to the dragons before her. <Lyraene,
I know
that your rider had been ****rking her duties, and my rider has spoken
with her
previously. Are you saying that she is still not performing
adequately, even
after their discussion?>
Dalmar nodded and began to examine one of the queen's eyes. The
first
test was to move a lighted candle back and forth in front of her eye.
*Now,
tell me when it comes into your view, and when you can't see it
anymore.*
As he was doing this, Lyraene was continuing to address the queen.
[She
does not...and she does not listen either to me or to Firefly's rider
when we
try to tell her that she has im****tant duties other than this 'music'
of
hers!]
<Oh, I just can NOT see that!> Chrysthal snorted, so vehemently
that
even though the thought was directed at Lyraene, Dalmar picked it up
too. The
dragonhealer was puzzled to say the least, since the candle was right
before her
eye. *You can't see that??* he wanted to know, and immediately began
to feel
around the edges of the eye for some sort of injury. *How long have
you had
this problem?*
<Since they arrived at the warren,> Chrysthal replied,
distractedly,
misunderstanding the nature of Dalmar's question. <Lyraene, I can't
understand.
What exactly did you tell your rider? Or more im****tantly, how did
you
explain to her about her duties?>
[I told her everything that Firefly told me to tell her,] Lyraene
replied. [About her duty to the wing, and to the warren, and for
keeping ME out of
trouble...]
Dalmar, noticing that the queen wasn't answering, reached a gentle
hand
up to try and pry her eyelid up just a bit to see if he could see any
scratches underneath it.
<What do you think you are doing?> Chrysthal asked the little
human, a
bit annoyed.
Lyraene blinked, just barely hearing the thought that Chrysthal
directed
at Dalmar. [Oh...well, I'm sorry...I thought I was doing what I was
supposed
to...I mean...] She turned and looked helplessly at Firefly, who also
seemed
a bit perplexed.
*I am trying to figure out why you are having this problem with
your
eye,* Dalmar told her. *Flying is dangerous if you can't see
properly!*
<Look, I'm not blind!> Chrysthal replied, then more gently she
told
Dalmar, <The eye is fine! Nowd" &" go check something else.>
[Um...no, of course you're not,] Lyraene stammered, looking over
at
Firefly again. Every time it seemed like Chrysthal wanted her to
explain something
more clearly, the queen would turn around and indicate that she didn't
want
that. The cinnamon dragon was becoming more confused by the moment.
Chrysthal returned her attention to Lyraene. <Yes, that's EXACTLY
what
you should do, but I don't understand why your rider is ignoring a
direct order
from her wingleader and Warrenlady, as well as ignoring the wishes of
her
dragon.>
[She wishes to be a Bard,] Lyraene began.
[*She just doesn't see herself as a dragonrider, I suppose, and so
she
doesn't follow orders, as she isn't really convinced that she should,*]
Firefly tried to explain.
Dalmar quickly moved back from Chrysthal's eye, and made a note on
his
chart that her eyes seemed to be just fine. Hm, what to check
next...ah,
right, something right close at hand! He peered into the queen's ear.
Everything
*looked* okay, but of course it was dark in there and he couldn't very
well
hold a candle down there to see better. Of course, there was the
age-old way
to test hearing.
"HELLOOOOOOO!" he called aloud, right down into Chrysthal's ear.
<I'm NOT deaf!> Chrysthal exclaimed loudly, in irritation.
Firefly blanched, [*Oh, no, of course! I wasn't implying that you
couldn't hear Lyraene, I was just trying to explain*.]
Dalmar stumbled backwards, his mental "ears" still vibrating from
the
queen's mindshout. He picked up the chart and marked down that
Whiteriver's
senior queen had excellent hearing.
Lyraene, meanwhile, turned in confusion to Firefly - who looked a
bit
confused himself - and then back to the queen. [Anyway.... as Firefly
said, my
rider doesn't want to be a rider, she wants to be a Bard.
Maybe...maybe if
she gets her wish and is able to become a bard first, she won't mind so
much
being my rider anymore?]
<Dragonriders should take their responsibilities seriously!
Nothing
should come between a dragonrider and his or her dragon,> Chrysthal
asserted.
<Are you done, yet?> Chrysthal asked Dalmar.
Dalmar was about to answer when he heard Lyraene mutter, [I wish
the
healer could do something about the pain in MY rear!]
Not having heard what the cinnamon dragon had been telling
Chrysthal, he
quickly picked up his bag and hurried over to see what was the matter.
Lyraene was far too young that she should be having bone or joint
problems, but it
was possible that she'd pulled a muscle. Dragons did that with their
tails
often enough, so he began to examine the base of her tail.
[What is he doing?] Lyraene asked Firefly, after watching the
human go
about his ministrations for a few seconds.
[*I'm not exactly sure... but I'd say he was looking for the "pain
the
rear" you were talking about,*] Firefly chuckled.
<Are you finished with me then?> Chrysthal asked Dalmar
hopefully.
Dalmar wiped his brow and looked back at Chrysthal. *Well,
actually,
no, I still need to finish your physical. I just came over here to
help this
poor dragon when she said she had a pain. I don't really see anything
wrong,
though. I'm not familiar with her symptoms, do you have any advice?*
Lyraene had, by now, turned her attention away from Dalmar as his
presence didn't seem to be hurting anything. [So, Chrysthal, Firefly
felt I should
come to you and get your advice on what to do about my rider.]
Chrysthal thought for a moment, <Well, I really think you should
be a
bit more forceful in your approach to your problem,> she advised
Lyraene. Then,
to Dalmar, <And I think you need a more gentle and caring approach.>
[More...forceful...?] Lyraene asked, having unintentionally been
the
recipient of both parts of the queen's advice. She understood that
first part,
but the second confused her. She was hoping for a clarification, but
Chrysthal
simply nodded agreement. [But how can I do that and be more gentle and
caring too?] she asked in a mindwhisper to Firefly.
Firefly hadn't quite caught what the queen had suggested, but
reasoned,
[*You have to be gently forceful? I suppose that means instead of
begging
her, you should gently pick her up in your mouth when she won't come to
practices?*]
Lyraene could only nod and then turned back to the queen. [This
sounds
like it will be difficult,] she said. [But I am going to try your
advice, and
I am sure it will help! Thank you!]
Dalmar, meanwhile, had likewise heard more than Chrysthal had
intended.
He'd already gathered that Chrysthal was telling him to be gentler and
more
understanding with his patients, but her admonishment to be more
forceful
surprised him somewhat. Obviously he'd impressed her as some sort of
wimp, and he
definitely didn't want that!
He decided to further explore Lyraene's complaint of pain. One
possibility could be a problem in the tail, so he decided to test her
reflexes there.
He took the rubber mallet out of his bag, selected just the right spot,
and
whacked just below the base of Lyraene's tail.
As it turned out, Lyraene's reflexes were just fine. She let out
a
surprised yelp, and her tail whipped around and scored a direct hit on
Firefly.
[*Ouch! What did you do that for?*] Firefly looked over at his
rump
where Lyraene's tail had struck. [*Ow, ow, ow...*] He nosed the area
with his
snout.
Dalmar had been trained at Tinobal to always respond when he heard
a
dragon say "ouch," and so even before the third "ow" he was hurrying
over to
Firefly with his bag. At least in this case, he knew how to fix the
problem.
*Just hold still!* he told Firefly, taking out a jar of numbing salve
and
spreading it quickly over the place where Lyraene's tail had hit.
[Sorry,] Lyraene said sheepishly.
[*Ahhhh!*] Firefly sighed as relief spread out from the
application of
the salve, [*Quite all right, Lyraene. No harm done, eh?*] Then he
told
Chrysthal, [*You know? He's not too bad a healer!*]
<Now, there you go, Dalmar!> Chrysthal's bell-like tones rippled
out
from her, <I guess you have learned a few things today.>
*Yes, I suppose I have!* Dalmar agreed, wiping his hands and
putting the
jar back into his bag. He reached down into his bag and took out two
pills
that were each the size of his fist, and held them out to Firefly. *If
it
keeps hurting after the salve wears off, take two of these and call me
in the
morning!*
[*Oh, um... maybe you could give those to my rider? You see, I
really
don't have anywhere to put them... not having pockets or a bag or
anything to hold
them in.*] Firefly responded.
Dalmar looked embarrassed. *Oh...yeah...well, tell you what, if
it
starts hurting again, just come over to my clinic and you can swallow
them there,
okay?*
[*Yes, yes... great idea. Now, Lyraene, I believe your rider is
wanted on
the green?*] Firefly stated. [*Chrysthal, thank you again for your
help!*]
He bowed, respectfully, to the queen.
[Yes, thank you!] said Lyraene, bowing also, and then the two
dragons
departed the hatching cavern.
Dalmar turned back to Chrysthal. *Now just to finish your
examination.
I should check your claws to make sure they're not showing any sign of
cracking,* he said, detouring to one of her outstretched rear legs. He
stepped over
the leg to straddle it, and checked the claws one by one. *Yes, this
looks
good,* he said to himself, seeing that the claws were ****ny and sharp,
with no
signs of cracking. Without thinking to ask, he then moved his fingers
down to
check the smooth skin between the claws. *Hm, good, no drying or
cracking...one or two spots that might need a bit of oil...*
<Hehe, Dalmari" &" hehehe... oh... Dalmar! Heehee. Stop...
heeheehee!>
Chrysthal tried to warn Dalmar that once again he had inadvertently
located a
ticklish spot. Her tail snapped around and again walloped the hapless
dragonhealer, flattening him, face first in the sand. <Sorry, sorry!
But it tickledr"
&".>
Dalmar groaned as he used his hands to raise himself up. *You
didn't
tell me you had another one of those,* he pointed out, then sighed and
let
himself fall limply. *Apparently I do still not quite understand your
advice. It
takes time, I suppose.... *
Chrysthal nodded her head, <Yes, you just need to practice more.
But if
you have learned anything from today, I hope it is this: that you ask a
dragon - or at least warn them - before you prod and poke an area.>
He picked himself up and dusted himself off. *That is good
advice,* he
agreed, though he didn't quite see how it squared with her advice to be
more
forceful with his patients. Well, he'd figure it out. *Is there
anything else
you would like me to look at before I go?*
<No, nothing really,> the queen said. <Well, just a little pain
on the
end of my tail, nothing serious, I'm sure it will go way on its own...>
*How long have you had that?* Dalmar asked quickly, and the queen
told
him that it had just been within the last few minutes. Dalmar wouldn't
take no
for an answer and was determined to look at it. Chrysthal sighed and
let him
examine it, with some trepidation.
*Loose scale,* he said. *Probably happened when you whomped me
earlier.
The scale might have been a bit loose to begin with, that happens
sometimes." He took out a small vial of milky-colored liquid which he
told her was
scale glue. *Now, just hold still, this may sting for just a
second...* He
applied some of the glue to the inner surface of the loose scale, then
pressed it
down so it could adhere to the skin underneath. He held onto the tail
tightly
while counting to ten to give it time to adhere.
It did sting for just a second, as Dalmar had said...but by the
count of
five, it burned as though her tail had been set on fire. <YEOWCH!!>
Chrysthal mindshouted, yanking her tail upwards while she threw her
head back and let
out a roar. Dalmar, who'd been holding her tail, somersaulted over her
back
and landed unceremoniously across the bridge of her muzzle.
<Ouch! Ouch!!> Chrysthal huffed, her head bobbing while Dalmar
bounced up
and down on her nose. When the pain subsided in a few seconds, she
looked
crosseyed at the stunned healer. <Did you know it was going to do
that?> she
demanded. <Why didn't you tell me?>
*That's what the manual, "Dealing With Dragons" says to do,* he
said
weakly. *It says on page 73 that if you tell a patient that something
will hurt
in advance, they won't let you do it.*
<I don't believe it,> said the queen as she lowered her head to
deposit
him onto the sand. <Let me see that!> Dalmar took the reference book
out of
his pocket and held it up for her. At her request, he then set it down
onto
the sand in front of her so she could get an even closer look.
*I didn't know dragons could read,* he started to say when there
was
suddenly a bright flash of flame. When he looked down again, his
"Dealing With
Dragons" manual was burning merrily on the sand while Chrysthal grinned
at him
with a broad smile.
<Sorry, I must have sneezed,> she said.
Dalmar sighed. *I guess I'm still not quite understanding all of
your
advice,* he said.
<Give it time,> she advised. <And don't replace that book.>
Dalmar nodded, and then admonished her not to hit anyone else with
her
tail until at least the next day. Having finished his examination, he
bowed to
the queen and thanked her for her advice, and departed. He had no
doubt
that her advice was right, but the different parts of it didn't all
seem to fit.
Well, he knew queen dragons were very smart, so he was sure that it
must be a
failure of understanding on his part. He was sure he'd have it figured
out
before he examined his next dragon. Or maybe the one after that...?
The queen watched him head out of the hatching cavern with a sigh
of
relief, and then went back to turning the eggs.
Submitted by:
Arlene (Chrysthal, Firefly)
And
John (Dalmar, Lyraene)
Whiteriver Waren
Summary: Day 15: Dalmar stops off at the hatching cavern to get some
advice
from Chrysthal on why dragons don't like having him work on them. The
queen
agrees to let him examine her to see the problem for herself, but soon
regrets
it.
J'red calls a meeting of the wingriders, but despite Lyraene's urgings
Nerika
declines to attend because she needs to finish working on her music.
Lyraene
encounters Firefly, who suggests that they go to see Chrysthal to ask
her
advice.
At the hatching cavern, Chrysthal tries to give advice to both Lyraene
and
Dalmar simultaneously, with the result that both of them hear more but
understand less than she had intended.
[This message contained attachments]
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Message: 2
Date: Mon, 4 Apr 2005 02:52:58 -0700
From: "Tree Deutscher" <treedr@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: [USS Capricorn] And a patooba is?
Greenish-yellow eyes watched the watched away team move through the
foliage, drawn to the castle just like so many others. From her
vantagepoint high on the castle rampart they were but small spots of
color in the evening light. Things were definitely starting to liven up
around here now that the Starfleet had made an appearance. It was too
bad they had this insatiable need to explore every blade of grass,
getting out of here could take longer then she'd expected.
For the present moment they were in no danger, of course that could
change in an instant. Sniffing the air the small black cat flicked it's
tail and stretched lazily before proceeding to clean its silky coat,
occasionally glancing below. It was too bad Red hadn't come back she
was much more fun then the Cat-hater. He was such a patooba sometimes.
[..] In the caverns
Montana stood like a statue, unmoving as the small team set up lights
around her. The Doctor stood turning in circles on the uneven rocks her
tricorder fla****ng out readings about their surroundings. So absorbed
in the readings she was getting she almost walked into the First
Officer and instinctively grabbed the taller woman's arm to steady
herself on the uneven cavern floor.
The tall redhead not expecting the touch jumped then swung on Miaren
with a deep frown. "Doctor I know this probably fascinates you, but you
do need to take a breather while the lights and transponders are set
up. Not all the bodies were recovered and I would hate to have you trip
over something."
The petite brunette froze her eyes darting around the cave that
surrounded them. "Commander, I think."
"Don't." Montana answered quickly.
"I'm beggin' your pardon Ma'am?" Miaren asked in confusion.
"Don't think! It will only give you the creeps! Take a deep breath and
pray we fare better then the last ones that were here."
Moran hurried up to the two women interrupting the odd conversation,
"Everything's in place! We found a tunnel on the far wall?"
Montana arched a brow, "And?"
"We think there's something in the ore throwing off our tricorders, at
least in the tunnel. We can't scan any farther then a few meters in."
The XO sighed, "Figures!" Looking at the others who had gathered
around, "Look around see if you can find any clues as to what would
have caused a cave in and...." glancing at the Doctor, "anything else
you might find. Then we well see what's in that tunnel. I want every
one their toes we have no idea what we walked into here."
Nods passed through the group as they quietly almost reverently spread
out to explore.
NRPG: No real tags just a filler to keep the flow going.
Respectfully submitted,
Tree Deutscher
AKA
Commander Montana Phillips, USS Capricorn
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