Ainth's bad tooth

November 2004
Logged by Ainth


Ground Weyrs
Once a mere overhang in the bowl wall, this arched stone enclave was deepened in aeons past by who-knows-what to provide shelter for injured dragons and their mates. Craggy walls loom high to dwarf rider and dragon alike, sloping back from the weather-open entrance to a low opening into the infirmary itself. Stacked under rock-shaded cover are low supply chests of sturdy timber, flanked with long tables. Other openings are shaded by wherhide curtains, leading to smaller, private caverns for the dragonhealers' patients.
To the northeast, you see fourteen dragons.
Blue Vorkoroth is here.
Wyn, Donis, and Joeseph are here.

Silas comes out of the infirmary, arrival announced by squeak of hinges.

Teamwork between a dragon and his rider isn't something wholly limited to when they're in the air. Wyn and Vorkoroth are demonstrating this fact today, as Vorkoroth lurks solidly over to one side of the ground weyrs, rumbling soothingly to Wyn's patient of the day as the bluerider works at setting up a long table's worth of supplies and equipment. "Ask her how long she's been feeling it, love, and which side of her mouth it's on?" she queries, calmly enough as she bustles, and then inquires more sharply over one shoulder to an idle observer that "Fetching me a few helping hands would be appreciated, if it isn't -too- much trouble to you, Malerand… Dragons are rather larger than human patients, you know."

Donis is a mostly willing pair of helping hands - a rather sheepish pair, too, as he appears in the ground weyrs looking anxiously. "You wanted help, Weyrsecond?" he asks, shuffling over towards her and Vorkoroth and their patient.

Ainth is splayed out on the floor, her low-pitched moaning and groaning the offered reply to Vorkoroth's soothing. She's happy to play the patient… mostly because of the pain in her mouth, but on a lesser scale because of the attention it brings. And not just from Wyn and Vor, either, as she's aware.

Joeseph shuffles along behind Donis, having figured that, well, someone needs help and others jumped at the chance, so Joeseph may as well too. "I can help too," pipes up the boy as he steps out to stand next to the other candidate, although he gives the cavity'd dragon a wary eye.

It's with a rather reluctant look on his face that Silas makes his way to the ground weyrs, hands in his pockets and dragging his heels. Taking up a spot near the shadows, he's hoping that no one will notice him there and enlist him to stick his head inside a dragon's mouth.

<Local> Ainth's colours are a little more subdued than normal; pastels are muted and almost overthrown by a brown blanket. Her imagery, where usually vibrant and concrete, is shaky and dull… a picture of the inside of her mouth, with a big red patch over the abscessed tooth is all she can provide. « Vorkoroth… it -hurts-… »

Malerand seems to have taken the opportunity to make himself scarce as soon as others arrive, because he's gone by the time Wyn turns around at the voices. "Ah." says she. And then "Ah." again. "Very good. Donis, I know you, and could you introduce the others to me? Come up here and start making up a redwort rinse, if you could. One part redwort to nine parts water… measure it in buckets, and scrub your hands while you're at it. Have any of you ever seen dragonhealers at work?"

Donis shrugs one shoulder, and turns to check who's followed him. "That's Silas, and that's, erm…" It's clear he doesn't know the younger lad's name, and just shrugs again, apologetically. "Redwort rinse coming up, and I've seen you all working before round the bowl." He crosses towards the bucket and frowns at it. "You want nine buckets of water mixed with one bucket of redwort? That much?"

Joeseph stands, patting his hands against the sides of his legs, feeling very young. Bah. He wrinkles his nose slightly at Donis. Psh. Losing his memory already, hm? And barely in his twenties. "It's Joeseph," he says to Wyn and adds. "Um…no." He didn't spend a whole lot of time around the riders when they were down at Ista.

<Local> Vorkoroth responds with soothing swirls of deep blues, scattered here and there with little reflected glimmers of starlight, still and smooth like an ocean at midnight. « I can feel it mixed in with your thoughts, milady. » he agrees. « But my Wyn knows what she's doing. She says it's likely an abcess, and that it will feel better as soon as it's drained. »

Silas shakes his head 'no' at Wyn's question and trails after Donis, slowly and with a sideways glance toward the ailing dragon, maybe even putting something of a wide distance between them. Who knows what a dragon in pain might do? "So.. What's wrong with her?" he asks, glancing at the Weyrsecond slash dragonhealer.

Ainth moans a little more, peering her head around as Silas inquires as to what's ailing her. Ooh, attention. The moaning pauses breifly enough that she can cock her head to examine him, before returning to her former position.

"Well met, Joeseph, Silas… and this is Ainth, weyrsecond Lauria's green," Wyn continues her move to Teachable Moment, rather than straight practising of medicine, silently forwarding a request through Vorkoroth that Ainth open up so that she can get a look. "She's complaining of a sore tooth, which isn't all that uncommon a complaint in a weyr with hundreds of dragons in it. They have a diet that's purely raw meat, and it's often hard to keep their teeth perfectly clean, so abcesses will happen. Should you go on to Impress, your own dragon will likely have a toothache at some point in his or her life. Thank you, Donis." she interrupts herself. "Bring the mixture over here when you're done with it, and we'll start work. I do hope that none of you are particularly scared of dragons…?"

Donis hefts up the buckets of water, refilling them from the huge barrel that stands handy, and pouring them into a smaller one. Wyn did say nine buckets of water and one of redwort… He manages to tilt the barrel and roll it on its edge towards the green, looking up at Ainth with no sign of nervousness.

Joeseph stands, watching Ainth more than Wyn, really. "Nope," he responds oh-so-bravely. Sure, he's been around the dragons at Ista. Not quite so up close and personal as cleaning their /teeth/, but, hey. New experiences every day.

"Not really, no," Silas says with a worried expression on his face. Of course, no dragon has yet tried to eat him or even hurt him in any way or manner, but it's clear that he's still a bit nervous arond the beasts. "Isn't there any way to prevent them from getting abcesses, then?" Not that he'd much care for brushing a dragon's teeth every day..

Ainth swings her head around again, dropping her jaw open. Impressive set, huh? Of teeth, that is… and isn't she the obedient little girl today. Donis gets an appraising glance from the corner of her eye, though most of her attention is still fixed on Vorkoroth, playing her Knight-In-Shining-Armour.

<Local> Ainth thinks « I like Yours, Vor. She knows what she's doing. Tell her I like her, and to be careful, will you? »

Vorkoroth, playing something somewhere between male nurse and knight errant, 'tends upon his lady and nudges Ainth reassuringly with his snout, still rumbling soothingly like an extremely large blue cat. With wings. So, in fact, not very much like a cat at all… but it's the thought that counts, right?

Joeseph goes home.

Ah, the fun of dealing in dragon-sized quantities of medical supplies. Wyn doesn't offer any comment on the large barrel of solution being rolled over to her beyond an observation that "It's very nice to have a few good strong backs about. Now, if each of you would take one of those long-handled bristle brushes, we're going to scrub out Ainth's mouth and clain her teeth prior to my setting to work." she explains, picking up one herself. "Soxzzle it in the redwort, and reapply fresh solution often… and be careful not to touch the abcessed tooth, she might snap her mouth closed in reflex action, and one wouldn't want to lose a hand." Wyn seems rather unconcerned by this, giving her sister's dragon a friendly pat, and then setting to work. "Mind the smell."

<Local> Vorkoroth ripples a soft laugh. « More often than not, my girl's too careful, rather than not careful enough… but I'll tell her.» he promises. « Just lie still, and if you need to, let me help share some of the pain. That's what I'm here for, to support you. »

Wyn's pat is accepted lovingly, with a shimmy of delight. Then, mouth open, Ainth tries to snort. The result is a burbling kind of noise in the back of her throat, followed by a rush of her smelly dragonbreath let loose upon the scrubbers. Isn't that fun, now?

Silas winces as the true nature of 'dragonhealing' comes to light and he stares at Wyn for long moments before picking up a brush and comes slowly toward the dragon's head, tilting his head to look into her mouth. "Where's the bad tooth?" he asks, glancing a the weyrsecond and pointing with the brush, "like you said… Don't want to, err, brush it by mistake.."

Anyone taking a brush? Anyone? Donis sighs, and reaches for the brush and dunks it in the redwort solution, giving it a good stir round. "Big teeth," he remarks rather inanely, venturing closer to Ainth's mouth. And she's a green. "Good point, Silas - which one is it?"

<Local> Ainth caresses with her klah-browns and fawns. « I will try to be still from now on. It -hurts-!! » And then, with a hint of something not-brown, « Thank-you, Vor. »

Wyn's features, already normally rather more still than most, go practically statuesque as she's slapped in the face with the aroma of raw meat, a hint of firestone, and the sickly smell of infection and decay. "Carnivores." she comments. "Charming." And then, sleeves rolled up, she sticks bare hands into the morass of saliva and small chunks of meat being partially digested by the enzymes in it, patting around the gumline on the -outside- of Ainth's teeth until she's located "Ah, here. One of the molars, so we'd best get this fixed before you fly Fall again, hmm, dear?" Removing her hand and shaking it a bit to detach some clinging bits of unpleasantness. "You can see how there's swelling and tenderness around the infected tooth. The pressure of the abcess underneath it is what's causing most of the pain. Now," she pauses, reaching for a bucket of numbweed salve sitting by her feet, and daubing the sore area liberally with it. "Redwort interferes with the action of numbweed, so we'll numb the tooth a little, then start cleaning her mouth. We'll then rinse it with the wash, and then I can bore in with a drill to give the abcess room to drain out." The drill, sitting over on the low table, looks more like something used to cut holes in lake ice. "You can start scrubbing now. Pay attention to the gumline… as for prevention… Silas, was it?" she wonders. "Firelizards. They'll pick meat gobbets out of a dragon's teeth."

Donis cranes his neck to try and see what Wyn's wiggling about with in there. "Firelizards? Pick meat out of a dragon's mouth?" He looks rather revolted, though that might just be Ainth's breath. "And you want us to clean the rest…"

Getting a whiff of that delicious smell emanating from Ainth's mouth, Silas almost looses his lunch and turns away for long moments, trying to draw a breath of fresh air, before turning back, holding the cloth of his shirt over his nose and mouth. One-handed now, he dips the brush in the redwort, and moves it slowly toward the dragon's mouth, carefully watching for any ill reaction she might have to his movements.

Ainth flicks her tongue around a little, tasting the air. Mmm… a lot fresher than her insides! Her lower jaw swings up and down a little, herself tiring rather quickly of holding it open. Plus, she has to make it a little bit hard for the Candidates, otherwise they'll get the impression that it's all fun and games after the Sands, right? The drill is unnoticed by her for the moment, although when the time comes, she'll surely kick up a fuss about it. She starts to rumble, low-pitched and almost a mimick of Vor's soothing sounds… until someone-or-other scrubs a little -too- close to /that/ tooth. Yelp! Luckily, her jaw doesn't snap shut… not quite close enough to provoke that. But it's a warning, ok?!

"Steady, dear." Wyn murmurs, keeping her hands clear of Ainth's teeth as much as possible while she works, and keeping a loose eye on her reactions to things. One would be a fool not to be a -little- on guard around an animal as large as a dragon, even if it's a sentient one. "We'll eventually settle a bite block into place so that she can close her mouth while I work, but we need to make sure that her mouth is clean first… how is that numbweed feeling?" she wonders, trusting Vorkoroth, still looming quietly, to relay for her, and then glances sidelong at Donis. "Why not firelizards? Meat is meat, really, and the dragons appreciate it, or they'd never let them that close."

Donis starts to scrub Ainth's back teeth on the side away from the abcess - very carefully. "I dunno," he replies to Wyn after a moment's concentration. "I suppose I must've seen them do it - it just seems, well, unhygenic." He shrugs one shoulder and reaches his brush - and his arm - deeper into Ainth's mouth.

"I'm not so sure Morden would crawl around inside a dragon's mouth," Silas notes and finally mounts enough courage to scrub a tooth - toward the front and well away from the abcessed one. "And I've never noticed him smell as bad as this…" He wrinkles his nose as the breath from Ainth penetrates his flimsy layer of protection against smells.

Oh, the joys that await these Candidates should the be chosen by her kind! Ainth has begun to listen to their chatter, something she often indulges in for her own amusement. Of course, responding is somewhat difficult, being that she's been firmly instructed /not/ to bespeak anyone without first checking with Lauria… but she is always interested in what the humans around her say and do. Oh yes, their kind is always paid a little -too- much attention by Ainth. She utters a hurt-sounding 'Yerrrc?' as Silas comments on her breath, slowly warming up to the idea of having her teeth scrubbed.

"Their breath normally isn't this bad," Wyn allows. "That's one sign a dragonrider can use to determine whether their lifemate is healthy or not," she prattles on, diction precise and tone bland, but clearly enjoying the opportunity to teach something medical all the same. "You'll always be able to tell that they eat meat for their meals, but it will be a healthy smell, and not one inclined to make you lose your dinner… there, there, dear." she soothes in Ainth's direction, giving her left nostril a bit of a rub before returning to an efficient scrubbing out of her mouth. "How are you two coming? About ready for a rinse?"

Donis scrubs again at Ainth's back teeth, nose wrinkled against the smell. "Well, I'm glad they don't always smell like this," he agrees through gritted teeth. "And I think I'm done?"

Silas is already pulling his brush out of Ainth's mouth. That noise from the dragon was quite enough to make him take a step back, watching - and waiting - for her jaws to clamp shut. "What? Uh, yeah.. Ready," he says, but makes no move other than turning his head to the side to draw a breath, somewhat away from that smell. "And I do hope you're right about the smell. This.. This is horrible. No offence, Ainth," he tags on, glancing a little nervously at the green.

Ainth shimmies again, trying to shake the brushes free of her mouth. An effort to help Wyn move the lesson along? Perhaps. More than likely, though, she's just become tired of the scrubbing and wishes the lesson to move along for her /own/ benefit. It's cutting severly in on her playtime, see?

Wyn gives Ainth's mouth a once-over once the two candidates have withdrawn, nodding to herself here and there, and, once, pausing to remove a chunk of meat from between two canine teeth that somehow missed being spotted. "Excellent. Now, a moment while I just take this hand-sprayer." she murmurs, mostly to herself as she wipes her hands on her work smock, and picks up what looks like a larger version of a vegetable sprayer, pumping a handle a few times to build up pressure, and then spraying the rinse all about. "My apologies, Ainth, this will likely taste vile, but you can go sluice your mouth out down at the lake when we're done."

Donis scurries well back out of the way of Wyn and her pump-action spraygun. "So, erm, how long will it take for her tooth to get better?" he asks, trying to sound intelligent instead of just relieved that he's away from Ainth's big smelly teeth.

Silas withdraws, well away from the path of the dragon's breath and puts the brush down on the table, almost crossing his arms over his chest to watch, then thinks twice about it as he discovers the gunk that covers the one he'd used for scrubbing. "Urgh… That's nasty.." he says and looks around for a washbasin or something other that he might use to clean his hands with.

Ainth yelps again, trying to to swallow any of the foul-tasting solution. Though for all her protests, both physically and mentally, her jaw remains open and relatively still. Ain't she a beauty? A dragonhealer's dream. No more attention is paid to Silas and Donis for the moment… she's concentrating on keeping Wyn happy. Because after all, the weyrsecond will be the one with the drill in a short while…

"Use some of the leftover redwort wash," says Wyn to that 'urgh', not bothering to look over her shoulder as she concentrates on Ainth, but well aware of the likely cause of it. "There's a very good girl, dear. I'll tell my sister she should be especially proud of you." The bluerider, it seems, is much more openly affectionate towards her patients than she is towards humanity. "And it shouldn't take her too long at all. We'll let things drain, and then pack the hole with mosstea to prevent any further infection, and she should be completely fine within a fortnight, wherupon we'll fill the hole with something more permanent. If you two could set the bite block in her mouth now, in the space between the front teeth and the molars?" she requests, informing Ainth that "You'll be able to let your mouth fall closed shortly, my dear."

Donis scoops up a bucketful of the redwort wash and dumps his scrubbing brush into it, the handle sticking out. "Bite block?" he asks worriedly, and then lifts up the wooden fitmet. "Silas, can you go round the other side, and we can handle this into place…" At least, that seems to be the idea as Donis ventures close to Ainth's mouth again.

Silas gives a worried glance toward Wyn, then Donis and finally Ainth before nodding at his fellow Candidate, "yeah, sure," he says, sounding less sure than he tries to appear. "So.. Just in between the teeth, right?"

Ainth rumbles affectionately back to Wyn, still ignoring the two Candidates. The mention of her lifemate draws a softer, more high-pitched rumble, too. She's pleased, it would seem… and will be even moreso when she's able to clamp that massive jaw of hers shut.

"Precisely," Wyn confirms, stepping back to let Silas and Donis place the simple device. What? Lend a hand to hlp them? Bah, what's the point of having minions if one doesn't get a chance to stand back and direct, some times. "Excellent, there we go, just like that…" She trails off to pick up the tub of numbweed, along with the large drill, grunting at the weight in a most unladylike fashion.

"Um." Donis carefully inserts his side of the device in between the teeth Wyn mentioned, looking anxiously at Silas over Ainth's tongue. "If we get it wrong, will she bite?" He's only half-joking.

Silas is taking careful aim of where he places his own side of the biteblock, keeping his hands well away from the dragon's teeth. Trying to ignore Donis' question, he still sends a worried glance toward the dragonhealer and swallows. "I guess.. That I've got this thing in place?" he says, hoping that his hands will remain in one piece when the dragon bites down.

Of course she will… er, won't. Won't. Bitey dragons don't get much love from their riders, see, and Ainth's all about the love. She closes her jaw slowly, trying no to frighten anyone too much, and to avoid biting a hand off.

"There we go," Wyn murmurs, by her tone addressing Ainth rather than the drafted candidates, although they recieve a brief, approving nod for their efforts and a crisp "Very good, very good… now, this next bit isn't likely to be entirely pleasant to watch, so if you two would like to get going, I'll say thank you for your help, and you can be on your way." And then, she advances on Ainth with the numbweed and The Drill.

"There we go," Wyn murmurs, by her tone addressing Ainth rather than the drafted candidates, although they recieve a brief, approving nod for their efforts and a crisp "Very good, very good… now, this next bit isn't likely to be entirely pleasant to watch, so if you two would like to get going, I'll say thank you for your help, and you can be on your way." And then, she advances on Ainth with the numbweed and The Drill. *re*

Silas is more than happy with taking his leave now and steps back from the dragonhealer and her patient, stopping only long enough to wash his hands, then turning to run off with a wave to Wyn and Donis. "I think I have some other chore to do anyway…" he calls and disappears outside.

Donis retreats, eyeing the drill. "I, erm, think I'll go and polish the flamethrowers," he makes his excuses, and sniffs at his redworted hands as he leaves.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License