Veikel wasn't a fan of Threadscore. Naturally no one would be a
fan of any injury, but the point remained. He didn't like how it made people feel, he didn't like how it looked, he didn't really have a choice in the matter. A healer's job was to be a healer regardless of their personal feelings, and so the journeyman tugged the little mask up over his mouth as he went in to deal with the next patient. Threadfall had been chewing through riders and dragons alike with reckless abandon, so it was hardly surprising that the person who greeted Veikel when he came in was a rider.
A rider who looked more like an infant, really, and was bleeding quite badly from Threadscore. Instantly the healer felt his stomach drop, though the bit of herbs he'd smeared on the inside of his mask kept him on track.
Think of the flowers, Veikel he chanted to himself, and a smile was pushed onto his face. "Erastan, is it? Looks like you got hit pretty bad."
Why was he stating the obvious? Obviously it was because if he didn't the poor young man was likely to bolt from the room like a wher released from chain. In fact this kid did look more and more like a wher if pressed to think - his mannerisms anyway - and maybe that made things easier. Maybe. "Do you remember me? I'm Veikel."
All healers generally knew most of the Weyr for some reason or another, even if it wasn't exactly on a first name basis. People popped by the infirmary all the time for random things so it wasn't unusual to learn a face.
Sinders Path
i know this tag is really, really old! if you would like to drop or continue this RP please let me know!