Aredhel | The Silmarillion (aredhel) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2013-01-27 19:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed |
Who: Dr. Calleigh and F'nor
Where: Calleigh's clinic
What: He needs to have his wounds looked after
When: Sunday night
Rating: Probably Low
Open: No
Status: Ongoing
F'nor wasn't the type to cower from pain. In fact, he thought he had a pretty good pain threshold. As Wingsecond of Benden Weyr, and a rather seasoned Thread-fighter, he knew how to turn his mind from the pain and concentrate on what was important - the flame, the flying, the formations. When one was fighting Thread, there were far more crucial things to worry about than pain - pain, in fact, proved to you that you were still alive. Dragonriders didn't make it long if they flinched at the slightest pain.
But here, in this place, he had far less to worry about. He had been laying in his room for alomst two days now, with only the one excursion he had taken with Éponine down to the beach to see Canth. Staring at the ceiling, willing his body to heal more quickly, he had felt every little twinge, and every searing pain as the original painkillers had worn off. He had also felt Canth's pain, every bit as intense as his own. He knew the dragon could also feel his - another reason to make sure that he was in as little pain as possible.
Stepping into the clinic, he hoped that he wouldn't panic Calleigh too much. His skin was practically shredded in places under the soft white shirt he wore - long, searing welts where the thread had passed along his skin, devouring as it touched. Not to mention the blisters that spotted him from the vicious atmosphere of the Red Star. For a while, it had been touch or go whether he would even live, but he had to live. He had to live for Canth.
He checked in, then took a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting room, hoping that it wouldn't be long. The pain was getting worse every second, and he didn't want to embarrass himself. Not when he was the only example of a dragonrider this place had ever seen.