Mendl awoke and for a moment wondered where she was. Then she heard a whuffling and realized she was in Dytha's weyr. And the memory of the previous evening came crashing down on her.
Quietly she arose. It seemed that the small dose of fellis kept Dytha sleeping, and Ponth hadn't moved from her position last night. The only thing she had to worry about was explaining to the Candidate Masters why she missed curfew. Well, that she could fix right away. That, and asking Larsin to talk to the Weyrwoman.
Giving a longing look at the alcove where Dytha's personal bathing pool was, Mendl silently crept out of the weyr and trotted over to the Dragon Infirmary, and knocked on Master Larsin's door.
"Come," Larsin barked.
Mendl crept in. "I need your advice," she began.
"What happened to you? You look like you slept in those clothes," Larsin snapped. "When you work here, you should always look presentable." He glared at her, and she stood there with downcast eyes.
He huffed. "Stop looking like a beaten canine. You're normally professional, so something happened."
Mendl nodded. "It's Dytha sir. Ponth rose yesterday. And I spent all evening tending to Ponth's and Dytha's wounds. Lucily Ponth didn't need too many stitches, but she's not going to be able to fly for a while. And Dytha's going to be sporting some pretty bad scars..." She trailed off at the look of utter disbelief and anger on Larsin's face.
"One of my apprentices was damaged during a mating flight, and you're only coming to me now?" he said.
"Only because I felt it was more important to tend to their injuries than to go telling the whole Weyr that a bad flight had happened," Mendl snapped.
Larsin stared at her, and she stared back. They stood like that for several minutes until she broke and looked at the ground. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"So, you're telling me that Dytha may not be here for a few days?"
Mendl nodded. "And, can you say something to the Weyrwoman? I don't think a flight like that should be allowed to happen."
"Do you know who it was?"
"Just the dragon's name. Travath." It was burned in her memory. "He came forward from SEF Weyr."
Larsin nodded, and paced the room. Mendl stood there waiting for him to say he would go talk to the Weyrwoman.
"You go tell Kassia. I've got a few things I need to do today. But you should go talk to her. But go clean yourself up, first." He went back to his desk and wrote something out on a strip of hide. "And give this to Nayari, so you don't get in trouble for last night."
Mendl nodded, though she didn't know why he wanted her to go talk to the Weyrwoman. Though Larsin could be gruff at times. She grabbed the note and ran out of his office, heading to the Candidate Barracks to do a quick washup and change. And hope that her footlocker hadn't been permanently locked.