Re: Yes, she's meant to be this size. Yes, we've been asked before. (Dytha/Ambrelli)
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She didn't like the word disease. More she didn't like the connotations that people usually held in their head about it. Usually along the lines of it being contagious. "Healers aren't sure what it is. It's some sort of skin condition but it comes and goes. Had it since I was a kid. Keeping it simple and not too morbid, I get really dry skin on the soles of my feet. It gets thick and dead like it's not being gotten rid of. But that means it cracks. A lot. So it makes things miserable. But I've got stuff to keep me sane when it's really kicking off. Being given a weyr right over the Infirmary helps. Even if it's going to take ten turns to get it cleaned up and livable." Her practical tone suggested that she had been dealing with this for long enough to consider it a normal facet of her life and one that she knew how to handle. "It's why I wasn't destined to be a Candidate. So I was determined to be a Crafter - actually I was going to be a Healer. I wanted to be a researcher." Or rather, she had accepted that she was never going to get given a role that required a lot of travel when she could go months struggling to take even a single step. "Then I ended up here. Turned out I realised that there was a lot to learn about dragons too. I did a study on dragon eggs and caught the eye of Master Larsin." And also drew the ire of Goldrider Delysia. But that was a story for another day. Mind you, that had been then. Maybe things would be less... hostile now.
As she spoke, she had continued to check over Ponth, pausing to jot more notes down here and there. From the open pages of her journal, now lying open on the trolley, it was possible to see that there was an intricate sketch of a dragons foot, notes dotted around it.
Ponth was more than happy to comply, puffing herself up even more. For all the difference it made. She looked like she could go swimming in the wallow she was sitting in, had someone thought to fill it with water.
Of course you may. Unfortunately my talons are dreadfully dull today. I shall make sure that Healer-mine paints them an especially lovely colour the next time we're coming.
The green spoke directly to Ambrelli. Something of a surprise but then, they were in a professional setting and Ponth had been more than happy to bespeak the Healers and Dragonhealers that wandered by. Usually because she wanted something. She flexed her neck, her dainty proportions and sumptuous curvature all the more obvious. If dragons had a waistline definition, there definitely would have been a picture of Ponth next to it.
On Wed, Apr 8, 2020 at 11:02 PM TrueTricia <tricia.nicewicz@...> wrote:
Ambrelli breathed in again, listening to Dytha, the young woman making sense, even if Ambrelli couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to see this idea through. How could she just casually dismiss a way to save the two people that mattered to her the most? Whose death had started her down this dark and angry path? She couldn't, but Dytha was not going to be the person to help her with that. At least now the apprentice knew why she'd looked faint. Merck chirped in her ear, still anxious for her. It was rare the times that she was so out of sorts that he got upset, and she reached up to reassure him.
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Florcott on AIM.
I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!