Spread Thin (Altaira)

by **Molly Barlow** on January 27th, 2015, 10:08 pm

Winter the 33rd, 514AV

Molly leaned her head back against the edge of the bunk and sighed. It was a common place sound that told her winter was not yet over. She stared into their empty hearth, her eyes heavy but her mind refused to allow her to sleep. So much death had come and it was only the sound of Leo breathing that kept her from screaming at it all and begging them to lock her up. As if to remind her there were worse things, her stomach roared in the silence.

It had been a long night. Leo had been complaining that his leg burned but there had been nothing, no physical signs and no room in the infirmary. Molly hd thought it be best if they'd wait a bit and it bared down on her like a thundercloud, dark and oppressive. It was her fault his leg now held the green-yellow tinge of illness. Her fault that he struggled to sleep and couldn't even hop around as he had done before. Again, Molly sighed but this time she wobbled to her feet. There was a crest of light under her door, which meant it was day time. Today, she would get a healer.

"Leo?" She whispered and leaned over him to touched his cheeks. Her hands were already ice but his cheeks were so hot they felt slick in her hands. Gently she pulled back his blanket so his leg could breathe when a hand caught her chin. "Don't scare me, idiot!"

"You're face will freeze like that."

"It'll freeze anyway in this weather." She groused, both pleased and angry he was awake. "I'm going to get someone to come check on you."

"Do you really think they have anyone to spare?"

She narrowed her eyes, "They will."

"It's not that bad! Probably just late bruising or something."

The beekeeper ignored him, she refused to start this fight again. She hadn't realized she was breathing so heavy until she heard the laughter behind her. With a great huff and a slam of her door Molly headed to the infirmary.

--

There was a great deal of people about. Everyone was running to do something as if the city couldn't sit still for more than a second. Molly felt out of place and closed in within the building. She couldn't even tell some of the healers from the patients with all the extra citizens coming to help, it made a small rock of guilt settle in her stomach that she could only ask for help and give none.

"Excuse me?" Molly tapped on the shoulder of the nearest person who looked like they knew something. "I need help...at my home, I mean. My husband broke his leg, we can't move him and I don't think..."

Molly motioned to the full beds and was given a wary look in return. "I don't know that we've got anyone to spare right this second. Can you wait?"

The no was on the tip of her tongue, Molly inclined her head with her lips pressed tight to keep it at bay. She felt a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder and was lead out of the way.

"I'll send someone over as soon as we can. Just wait here."

by **Altaira Readva** on February 6th, 2015, 6:15 am

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others | Winter 33, 514 AV

It had been dozens of days since that day.

That damned day when the streets were flooded and the university burned and smouldered.

The days where her life went to Hai and she finally knew true toil and dedication, what it meant to work through blood and bone to serve one's purpose, even the most bitter of ends.

'Something lost, something gained.'

There was a slight giggle from the joining room, a small, high pitched wheeze following as the perpetrator tried to smother their glee, and breath of sweet relief rolled from Altaira's lungs. Her days had finally begun to slow down ever so lightly, and the other staff had begun, it seemed, to return to their once more light hearted nature. The majority of patients remaining from the Obelisk's destruction were under extended term stay to ensure the more severe tendency of their wounds healed well and emotional damage was attended to, though those the most severely injured were still kept until close watch with little spared, and those few in between received whatever follow up treatment was requird. So many of those that remained were only so due to he needed prioritisation of life and death injuries- fractures that would have needed no more than a splint were bound to bed, cuts had infected and pneumonia had been rampart, simply because their injuries at the time left them waiting for days - if not weeks - until proper care could have been taken of them.

Beds were still full, too full to take patients with flu or cold or minor sickness, partially due to the lack of capacity, part in fear that sickness could spread amongst the wounded, but the deaths were dropping by the day.

She shook her thoughts from idle to action, and her hands trailed across the spine of an old tome situated high above her paltry little work bench. With a musical hum and a press onto the tips of toes, she tugged at the bindings and worked it lose from its cramped environment. Dust and other loose papers and parchments followed suit as they fell to the woman's paltry herbalist station - one shared with two others whose shifts had never coincided until the havoc wrought by the Obelisk - and a bitter breath slipped from he lips.

'Not good, not good. It will need to be cleaned before the next user of this station is slotted to begin work.'

With a swift moment she opened the cover of the tome, a simple wooden binding with the engraved title of Pain Relief scrawled boldly, and quickly packs all loose papers within it, before giving a short glance about the small room as she ensured there was non around to criticise her. Her task then was simple enough- one of the patients in particular had taken a poor turn, and was in need of the crafting of strong pain relievers to aid in the ongoing treatment. Although the kelvic herself lacked such skill, and it was a task of little urgency, that did not mean that she could not prepare the workplace for the next herbalist to begin immediately- and immediately they would, for word was said that they'd already been called in early.

"Altaira," a voice shortly sung, quick and sharp as the woman who'd chimed popped her head into the herbalist's station, and the kelvic's closeness to snapping was palpable. There was little she hated more than to be interrupted when focus was so thick on work. "You've only a quarter bell left till end of shift, aren't you lucky? I haven't slept in a dozen and a half bells," a breath shot through the kelvic's nose- of course she knew exactly how much time there was until her time was Dira's, and she couldn't care less about the nosy peer's own problems.

But there was something slightly off about the look of the fellow staff- the way she pressed her lips and short looks to the side of the room and before returning her gaze to the herbalist's, and it angered the Eiyon to her wits end that her time was being wasted in such a manner. 'The moment the time for breath can be drawn, there is always someone to snatch it from me.' "Speak, speak- I've work to do," She gave the woman a harsh look, and continued to ice her words in noting that the woman did indeed not immediately tell whatever it was that needed speaking. "And as do you, I'm sure."

Altaira's arms then shortly slammed the tome shut and folded her arms, the look befalling the intruder sharp. "There is a home call you've been asked to carry out-" the woman rung her fingers.'Gods help me. I've no-' "Nothing large- or complex, I don't think." There was a settling of uncertainty to her words, and worry crept up the kelvic's spine. "Just, uh- take a pack and assess the situation. If all can be simply cured, then do so. If not..." For a moment, there was a flicker that dashed across her peer's face. One that was dark and merciful was stone and cold. If the fix was not an easy one, then maybe the fix cannot be made at all. That was what the woman's eyes told Altaira, a look that she had seen too often in the days since the Obelisk's awakening.

'If they say it is fine, then it should be fine, no? Just some hypochondriac that claims to be in desperate need, yes? Surely it would be some simple sickness and simple cure. Right. Dira.'

"Very well- just a moment- lead the way." It was not with a smile that her agreement was met with- just a nod and a sigh and a gesture to the waiting room, the kelvic all at once immersed into the thick of the work and worries of the infirmary as she scrambled together a pack of herbs and remedies: ginger for sickness in the throat, botanol for sickness of the stomach, connal and tolm for sleep and injury, a small jar of a belltor tincture should the issue be cold or illness. Her mind was a flurry of thought and memory, sorting through all the little mentions and learnings that she'd gained so far, trying to make sense of what may be needed and what was not, reminding herself perhaps too bitterly that tasks such as this, those handed from superior to inferior to peer and peer, could in truth be not too close to the initial conditions told.

The waist pack grabbed was shortly strung tight around the kelvic's hips, and she nodded her peer forward as she sought through the other items contains. There were bandages and gauze, some small jars of general anti-bacterial ointment and several clips. 'Darn medical students, never cleaning their pouches before turning them in.' The woman ran a hand through her tangled brunette hair as she fastened the cloth tie. 'Hopefully they will prove some use.'

A few ticks more and the kelvic found herseld weaving through patient and sutaff alike. The earlier volunteers had settled nicely into the pace and rhythm, though few moved swift and gracefully enough for the kelvic's own liking. A breath more and Altaira was quite nearly pushed infront of a tired, worn looking woman, brunette hair not unlike the kelvic's own, but her stature and thickness was some measure smaller. "I suppose you're the one," her gaze narrowed as she regarded the woman, before thought came to make a proper address. "The home call- My name is Altaira, walk and talk, please." The kelvic made a gesture to the door, and gave as much of a sympathetic look as she could muster.

"I will help any way that I can."

by **Molly Barlow** on February 7th, 2015, 4:51 pm

Sleeping with her eyes open was not uncommon for Molly, although she wasn’t really sleeping just so lost in her thoughts she might never escape them. The voice of her nurse shocked her into alertness.

“Y-yes! Sorry, I’m—“

The other woman spoke briskly and quickly; Mollys words were too soft or croak like to hear. Instinctively she responded to the commands, the wariness from before leaving the wake of the little piece of light. Her legs buzzed from sleep but Molly led the way out of the infirmary, moving as quick as she could with each step. “Thank you, Altaira I know you all have little time to spare.” She gave a wan smile, “Last season my husband broke his leg and we thought nothing of it. He’d been able to move around well enough and it was setting well enough but a few days ago…”

She’d been content to starve rather than feel the growing hole in her chest. It ached with the knowledge that they should have seen someone sooner or that he should have just stayed at the infirmary when he was first injured. Molly shook herself to halt these thought, she knew she’d stopped talking and said nothing more for a handful of moments. With a great groan, she continued.

“A few days ago it began to change color where it had broke, it looked strange because he hadn’t broke the skin when he broke it! The doctor who first splinted it never mentioned it could get so…its become soft and pains him all the time and the colors just get darker. We guessed it just be bruised late because he would hop around to move and now he can’t even get up! It gives him fevers and we hardly sleep.”

There was a helpless chord in her voice that said Molly might breakdown. She pieced herself together slowly as the houses became more familiar so she might be able to let Altaira in and lead her to Leo. There was no lock on her door, a quick push and it swung open with the wind. It was not hard to see the patient; Molly nodded to allow her doctor in then hurried in to hover beside Leo like a hawk over prey.

“Can you do anything?” It was not meant to be disparaging but even Molly winced as she said it, unable to take it back or truly feel remorse for the words. If she could not help then no one else would come and they would know exactly what would happen. The thought was enough to bring about a fresh wave of tears.

by **Altaira Readva** on February 12th, 2015, 3:15 am

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others | oocSo long story short, the delay here is because I just wrote a solo so Alta here definitely knows what she's talking about

She was an awfully soft spoken little thing, the kelvic mused, though the slightest inkling of dread had already begun to seep and pool in her stomach.

Was it her nature to speak and act in such a manner, or was it situation that had driven her to act in that way?

The kelvic pressed her lips as the woman led her on, taking in every little detail that was offered her. A broken leg? She bit her lips as the brisk walk continued, absently nodding as she sought all the knowledge on such a thing as she could muster. Although she'd yet have the displeasure of having to set a broken bone this season- she had given herbal remedies to those suffering at the behest of doctors and nurses.

Would she have enough skill for the task that was required of her?-And if not that, would she actually know enough? Deep breaths both in and out set her more at ease. If she herself could not help, then she could easily petition Misstress Claira for one more skilled to follow up, couldn't she?

It was harder to pick the actions of men in woman in a state of panic. Logic and reason were not things that were nearly as easily appealed to. As the woman continued to tell her little tale, the kelvic could think of only one thing- and that was the fracturing and movement of the bone further. At least, that was the logic that followed her most readily. In past experiences the nurse made point that bruising on the outer flesh was a sign of an internal fracture... but was it universal? Or was the mending of broken bone itself different in itself?

The woman's voice shortly broke, and a few mere ticks later it was the home that the woman owned that she assumed that they were entering, and an even shorter amount of time before she was thrust into the place and game of a nurse. "I will do the best to my abilities," she hummed, keeping her own pace even and voice calm. Someone needed to be steel- to be confident and self assured, and it was a role that Altaira was then too used to taking.

She took her own seat beside the man, and pretended not to notice the woman's tears, and gave the man a short and uncertain once over. "And if that is not enough, I will urge the infirmary to do more," as she settled herself in her place she made a gesture to the man's legs, asking for the woman to further detail exactly where the breakage was. "And also, if you don't mind- I've brought some herbs that should ease his pain and bring sleep better," she then cleared her throat, "I will need to add pressure on the injury... it will be unpleasant."

'Like the nurse said, if I can tell by the feel of the bone...' It was such a strange place for her, to be in the place of a doctor inspecting an injury. Her skills in herbalism were similiar- but the people knew their illnesses and they knew their injuries. There was no diagnosis or guessing game, there was her own knowledge and advice given based on what the person said they experienced.

by **Molly Barlow** on February 22nd, 2015, 2:37 am

OOCI thought I'd already replied to this! Very sorry about that.

The calmness surrounding the words was too contrary for Molly to comprehend. It left her feeling as if Altaira was callous with her. The beekeeper forced herself to tamper down her sleep addled emotions, a task that seemed impossible. A very large part of her wanted to shout that the 'best' was not enough, to demand results instantaneously. Molly quashed it with a sharp breath. "I doubt the infirmary could do any more than you, there are cases that are worse. I seen them." She bowed her head, "But thank you. Anything will help."

Greedily Molly grabbed at the herbs with one hand while the other pointed near Leos leg. It shook violently. She was very careful not to touch it and Leo, who'd been silent the whole exchange simply grabbed her hand and squeezed. It forced the words out of her. "I don't know."

"It was the under the knee, above the shin. It was hard to pinpoint, the thought I might've fractured other parts." He wheezed and Molly flinched, looking away from both of them. "Feels worse not than when I broke it, don't know what for."

"Because you broke it!" Molly hissed. Altaira was momentarily forgotten and the beekeeper found herself crying again while she stared her husband down, "If you hadn't then we wouldn't be here! You're too irresponsible!"

"Molly!"

Molly audibly swallowed the rest of her words, "Put all the pressure you want on it, maybe next time he won't be stupid enough to break it."

To distract herself, Molly extracted her hand and fled the bedside to put away the herbs. As she did she continued to talk to Altaira both afraid of distracting but unable to not say anything. "Do I need to do anything to the herbs? Just swallow with water or boiled or with food?"

by **Altaira Readva** on February 24th, 2015, 10:56 am

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

Altaira was taken aback.

She was slowly getting used to dealing with patients, slowly and surely, but she'd yet faced loved ones in the process. Whether it was a wave of empathy or pure pity that left her, she was not sure, but she pressed her face to remain steel as the woman took the herbs offered with an action so quick and aggressive the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

'Dira, help her.'

Her gaze fell the gestures to the wound, the words slipping the woman's mouth causing Altaira's lips to press into a fine line, even more so when it seemed as though she was on the brink of falling apart. 'Much like Millicent, she seems.' Entertainments of the past were cut short by the words of the patient himself, and the kelvic's gaze only momentarily met his to acknowledge her attention being caught, before it once more settled on the place of the wound.

Concerning little notes were made, and a breath rolled from her lungs as she mustered every ounce of medical knowledge she'd thus far learned. 'Internal breakage, no breaking of the skin...' She cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, ignoring the tension as it arose in the room, picking up every bit and piece from the conversation she could manage without allowing herself to be drawn in.

'Molly. Molly is her name. A sweet name.'

Kelvics, as they were, had remarkable talents in the ways of tuning out the little nuances of the world, and in times where words both spoken with spite and whispered with venom threatened concentration and comfort, it was a useful little 'fault' to have.

The remark of Altaira being permitted to add all the pressure and pain to the man as she pleased was perhaps a tad concerning, however it rolled around in her mind for less than two ticks before her mind skipped to where she'd prod and poke, her response the words that slipped from Molly's slipped falling from recall. "Connal, the roots and flowers you see there, can be put with a bath to aid in pain, or with tea to induce sleep," her brows knitted as she closed in on the point on internet, almost dismissing Molly's words as very few further left her. "Tolm, the leaves you have there, are also a tea, and will aid with sleep and pain. It may be best for you to use when he," there was a short gesture to the husband, whether the woman herself was able to catch it or not, "does, or feels lesser pain, so you may each get some rest."

She shot another glance back at the woman, before nodding to herself. "Both common, if you cannot find them elsewhere then you may be able to source them from your own ventures, if you are careful and willing."

She'd been biding her time for too long, and with a sharp intake of breath, Altaira pressed at the bruising that sat below the man's knee. She was no doctor, she knew that much- Kihala, she would scarcely call herself a nurse. But she knew her herbs and she knew her remedies- if she could help the man last long enough for the infirmary to get its shyke together... that was his best bet. Molly was right in the descriptions she'd managed, it was a soft, disconcerting spot that her slender fingers pressed.

"How long did you say it was like this-" the kelvic abruptly stood up as she regarded both the man and the woman before her, and she repeated what she was told time and time again. "Was it knocked or bumped?- How long did the doctors say bedrest was needed, and how much was given?" Numbers, numbers, numbers. The kelvic was good with none of them, but she felt as though they were the root of the problem. It does not take a wisewoman to understand that if not enough time is given to an injury to heal, then the injury will worsen. That was the problem with so many at the infirmary, so the nurses had bickered to her.

Patients were too keen to leave, and the doctors in no place to stop them. They'd return again some days later needing stitches redone, or an illness that had seriously progressed. Advice was all that could be given, it was one's own choice as to whether or not they took it.

by **Anuk** on March 3rd, 2018, 5:15 pm

[googlefont=Patrick Hand SC]

G R A D E

Withheld due to inactivity

Alaira Readva

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Molly Barlow

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