[PRP] Winter Contingency (A'dras, T'at and Ay'ril)

[BastetAmun]

This winter was a harsh one, though many weyr natives were use to it. A'dras was no exception, the cold weather was not something that ever bothered him or worried him. He normally had an immune system of steel, though there was something wrong this time.

Was it because Branwyn had been placed on bedrest? Their newest child close to being on their way, they could come into this world any moment now.

The past few weeks he was working non-stop, pushing his body past exhaustion at times. He was studying over reports left and right, keeping an eye out on any changes that might occur when thread actually fell. Plans for a recent drill were laid out on the table in front of him as he and his two wingseconds were at the table, mugs of klah sitting cooled beside them.

"We need to work more on higher altitude flights. Working on holding our positions at that altitude is.." He voice broke off into a coughing fit, his arm moving to cover his mouth, while he held up the other hand. It took a moment, him working to catch his breath before he continued again. "it's crucial, so that nothing falls past us."

His head was aching, more then it had been before, and it took him blinking a couple of times for his eyes to focus again. He could feel the worry coming off of Gareth from out on the ledge, the bronze could feel how tight his rider's chest was, how he was almost gasping for breath.

"I'm sorry." A covered cough. "To pull you away from your twins and V'rind, T'at." His weary eyes, dark circles around them landed on the brownrider. "If you wish, you can go back. "Another coughing fit racked his body, suddenly feeling very cold and weary. "Actually." When he was able to catch his breath, though it sounded like he still could do for more air. "Ay'ril, you can go too. We can...continue this...another night."

The light feeling to his head was getting worse and everything seemed to be spinning. His chest felt as if it was restricted, not allowing him to breath as deeply as he should be able to. He was suddenly very glad to have a separate wear from Branwyn at the moment, not wishing to risk her getting sick while so close to labor.

A step from the table, a coughing fit racked him again, though this time, A'dras' body fell to the floor with a thump and Gareth let out a worried bugle, his head turning and trying to get through the door that connected the ledge and the weyr, whirling orange eyes watching.

-_Wish of Tevarae_-

Teiha

 

[Teiha]

The meeting had gone long. Ay’ril took a swig of his cold klah as his eyes scanned the drill plans for what felt like the hundredth time, not bored or fidgety just yet, but he’d passed into fatigue some time ago and was looking forward to falling into bed as soon as the session was over. A’dras was looking piqued, as he often did those days. It rankled the auburn-haired wingsecond, given his past as a general healer. But nagging the Wingleader to take better care of himself would be unproductive and possibly aggravating, at best. He preferred to trust A’dras to know his own limits. He and T’at were there to pick up the slack when their leader needed it.

As A’dras fell into a bout of coughing mid-sentence, Ay’ril glanced over at T’at, brows raised in a significant expression. It seemed there might be quite a bit of slack for them to take on soon.

Gareth is worried, Yffengeth said from outside. What is wrong with his rider?

A’dras is... His thought ended there as A’dras released T’at from the meeting, then fell into another fit of coughing. The Wingleader’s eyes were becoming unfocused, his breathing strained. Ay’ril stood up when A’dras dismissed him, but made no move to leave. A’dras needs to see a healer as soon as possible. Tell Gareth to encourage him to do so, if he’s not already.

Before his bronze could relay the message, A’dras dropped to the floor. Ay’ril instantly skirted around the table and lifted his leader by the shoulders, making sure he stayed sitting upright. If he was having such difficulty breathing, that would help to keep his lungs open.

Scratch that, Yff, he needs a healer now. Try to keep Gareth calm. He looked up toward his fellow second. “T’at, do you think it’s safe to move him to the infirmary? I haven’t dealt with two-legged illnesses in a long time.”

BastetAmun

-_Wish of Tevarae_-