It's Not That Bad! [Tags: A Healer xP OPEN]

[Boobalicious]

“It’s not that bad.”

Tunimi sulked at the drudge who dragged her along by the elbow to the infirmary. Her arm sported an enormous bleeding scrape that ran from her elbow almost to the little girl’s wrist, but she didn’t seem to mind it all that much, pouting up at the adult who was making her see the healers. Unfortunately, when they reached the infirmary, there didn’t seem to be anyone about. The drudge looked annoyed, but Tunimi brightened. “No one home!” She turned as if to leave, but the drudge kept a firm grip on her arm.

“No you don’t!” He led the pouting girl over and sat her down on a cot. “You wait here. I’ll look for one of the healers.”

“But I don’t need one! Honest!”

“You’ll do as I say, child.” Slumping somewhat, Tunimi kicked her feet sullenly as the old drudge shuffled off, muttering under his breath. Once he was gone, she looked around the infirmary for a minute before peering at her arm. Well… it /was/ kind of sore. So maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to wait, since she was already here. She shouldn’t have been climbing up the pantry shelves, but Tunimi had seen one of the cooks put a tray of pasties up there to cool for dinner, and she’d just wanted a look. The girl poked at the skin before sighing and looking at her stuffed firelizard, a fluffy gold with bright blue button eyes.

“It’s really not bad” she muttered to her companion. But of course, the plushie said nothing, remaining silent.

[Nasrin]

The great surprise of candidacy had been in discovering that chores within the Weyr were much like chores within the Hold. It had been disconcerting at first, but in the past days Nasrin had found an odd comfort in the familiarity of the work. There was no end of hearths needing swept, laundry for the scrubbing and mending, meals to be prepared and various other small jobs that required countless hands and an attention to detail.

There was even something restful about some of the chores, though that was not a thing the Holdbred girl would or could ever admit to anyone. How many incredulous looks would she receive for that confession? Too many.

Nasrin entered the infirmary smiling, picturing the expressions that might be worn by those who overheard that work could be restful. No... they wouldn't understand. It was enough that she enjoyed her tasks, as could be seen in the lightness of her step as she bore a basket of freshly rolled linen bandages on her hip.

She swept past the triage area to find an empty cot on which to deposit those bandages, and discovered Tunimi instead.

There is no better way to summon a reaction-- other than to claim to like hard work-- than to bleed everywhere. Nasrin's hazel eyes widened and her brow rumpled with both concern and disapproval.

"What happened? Where's the healer?"

[Boobalicious]

The little girl was still looking somewhat sulkily at her stuffed pet, though her gaze was alternating between the plushie and the massive scrape on her arm. She had to resist the urge to pick at the scabs, and her resistance was waning when she heard approaching footsteps. Flinching as if she'd been caught filching sweet root from the kitchens, Tunimi twisted around and blinked large blue eyes up at Nasrin. "There was pasties on the top shelf; I only wanted a look, I promise! Just to see if they were my favorites." Well... at least she was honest. Glancing at her arm, she shrugged slightly.

"I dunno. Nobody was here when I came." Tunimi paused for a moment before looking hopefully up at Nasrin. "May I please go? It isn't bad, see? It's not even bleeding anymore!" She held up her arm as proof. The scrape was a nasty one, but apparently the little girl didn't think it was worth all of this fuss. Sure she'd cried at first, but her tears had been all sniffled up and her arm only had a sort of faint throbbing pain that was actually not entire unpleasant. So what did she need a healer for? Spotting the basket on Nasrin's hip, Tunimi smiled brightly. "I can help! I know where all the bandages go." And why shouldn't she, in the Weyr she'd called home all of her short life? She was sure she knew everything there was to know about the Weyr and where everything went in it. Maybe some day, she'd be an assistant headwoman.

Hoping that her offer to help the older girl with her chore would distract from the nasty scrape on her arm, Tunimi gingerly rested said arm in her lap, concealing most of the injury. The blood had dried and crusted into scabs in most places, although it was still soft and gooey in others. Hugging the stuffed golden firelizard to her chest, she looked up at Nasrin in silence, hoping that she would approve Tunimi's escape from the infirmary in exchange for a little help.

[Nasrin]

The proof of soundness displayed by Tunimi caused Nasrin's forehead to crease with a deeper concern, furrows that didn't ease after the girl's attempt at bartering chores for freedom. She deposited the basket on the cot's edge and placed her freed hand on her hip, studying the child.

Finally, after a second of silence, the combination of Tunimi's earnest, hopeful smile and the button-eyed stare of the stuffed animal provoked an answering smile.

"I would welcome help," she said slowly, measuring each word out to win time. "I'm still learning the places for everything. Do you know where the redwort is kept, for instance? And the clean rags, for washing?"

But how to convince the child to let her use them on the wound? Nasrin was at a loss, and won another moment by glancing about the infirmary, as if searching for the errant healer. She wondered...

"You know, my father is guard at the Hold. He told me once that a warrior's first scar is their most important. It marked them, it could even tell their future by its placement." Nasrin allowed her brows to lift in a look of curiosity. "If you let me clean that for you, I could show you how it's done."

She spread her empty hands, miming helplessness. "It's too messy to tell, as it is. But a clean wound makes a clean scar, and easy reading..."