Compartmentalization

Writers: Avery
Date Posted: 16th July 2014

Characters: Talwynn
Description: Threadfall leaves no time to mourn.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 7, day 14 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: D'ret
NPCs: Saitre, unnamed WLM assistant

A brown burst from /between/ dangerously low, his landing looking more
like a collapse. He was missing what looked to her eye like a full third
of his wing, which explained the lack of grace in the descent, and several
dragonhealers immediately began running that way. The candidate working
next to her, Saitre, made a big flinch. She could tell what he was
thinking - what if that was him and his dragon?

Talwynn put her bad hand on his shoulder, and when he turned to face her,
gave a reassuring squeeze. "Can you fill another bag?" Giving him
something to do that was concrete might help him keep his mind off the
horrors around them for now.

Saitre shook his head. "I..." The half-filled bag dangled from his hand,
forgotten.

Talwynn looked over to check that her green was still near. Riveth was
perched under an overhang, overseeing the packing and sorting and keeping
an eye on the weyrling dragonets. Of course the 'masters' dragons were
doing the same thing, but it gave Talwynn a way to redirect the green's
strong feelings; the force of will needed to hold Riveth back when she
desperately wanted to flame Thread was almost painful.

**Riveth, call a weyrlingmaster's assistant?** she queried.

Her green complied, summoning one of the older brownriders. Talwynn jogged
to meet him partway. "Saitre is not handling looking at the injuries well.
He's not filling all the bags all the way because he's distracted," she
reported.

"I'll find him something else to do," the man said, walking over to escort
the boy.

Talwynn felt sorry for him, but also a faint surge of frustration. Of
course it was allowable to Stand at 12 because losing a dragonet was
awful. And he was a Searched boy, so the dragons saw something in him. But
so far, Saitre was shy, and squeamish, and not able to process some of the
harsh realities of life in the wings. She just didn't think he was ready
to become a weyrling.

**You have more weyrlings to supervise,** she chided herself, realizing
that she needed to get back to work before any more trouble cropped up.

Talwynn had been assigned to work with the candidates and weyrlings today,
helping the crews that were filling and carrying firestone sacks. They
were dropped off at the staging point so there was always a fresh supply
ready to be couriered to the wings as replacements. It was the closest
she was allowed to get to being back in the fight, and so the smell of
firestone and the heft of the bags was reassuring; she was doing her part,
no matter how small.

She tried to stay focused on sorting and bagging the firestone, but that
wasn't always possible with the frequent interruptions of a chaotic Fall.
Every time another wounded dragon burst from /between/ over the weyr bowl,
she felt her heart speed up. Every time the dragons keened as someone was
lost, she had to swallow the sudden lump that appeared.

The worst part was how she had to fight to keep her face as neutral as
possible, her demeanor composed. If the group she was overseeing saw her
lose their nerve, how would they be expected to stay calm? She needed to
provide them an example of efficiency and focus, even in the middle of the
storm.

But it was hard. She felt a surge of sadness pulse down their bond and
from the corner of her eye, saw Riveth threw her head up to keen again,
eyes changing from the red of Thread-fighting instinct to the greyish
shades of despair.

**Who was it?** Talwynn asked, her heart sinking at the sound and visible
melancholy. It must be someone they knew, for a reaction that strong.

}:Petrith,:{ the green told her rider. She had vague memories of
displaying how to catch a herdbeast and break its spine in front of the
little green.

No! Talwynn had just helped D'ret, it felt like - she remembered how
nervous the green had seemed, how Riveth had made suggestions for hunting.
He'd seemed like a smart kid with a good head on his shoulders. She'd
looked forward to his graduation, to knowing he'd made it through. No,
no...

}:They went /between/ and did not come out,:{ the green added.

"I'm going to get some more sacks," Talwynn announced. Her tongue felt
thick and her voice rough.

The pile of extra sacks was near where Riveth was resting. The green
brought her head down so Talwynn could touch her. She wrapped her arms
around Riveth's head and let the comfort of physical contact with her
dragon reassure her for a moment, ease the grief that felt like it was
crushing her heart.

But it couldn't last forever, and the firestone group did need more sacks.
She wiped her hand across her eyes surreptitiously, then picked up sacks
and started lugging them back. There was more firestone to bag, more sacks
to be delivered, and more Thread to be fought up above them. The time for
mourning was later.

Last updated on the July 17th 2014

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Compartmentalization