08/13/2000

Infirmary, White Tower, Tar Valon

Square in shape, this room is most often abuzz with activity. It contains
the normal implements of a teaching infirmary, in fact, it is extremely
well stocked with all manner of things: cots, jars, bottles, syringes,
bandages, cloths, cabinets, shelves, books and tables along with plenty of
hot water. The air has that sterile smell associated with the constant use
of redwort, tinged with the unpleasant prickle of witchhazel. While most of
the Healing is done via the One Power at the Tower, there are many minor
medical situations that are dealt with the old fashioned way.

There are several areas curtained off, for patients' privacy as well as for
instructional usages. This is a teaching infirmary for the Yellow Ajah,
after all. Beds in cheerful colors are lined up in neat rows, providing a
comfortable place to sleep after a Healer's tender ministrations. Windows
are kept wide open to all for light and fresh air.


Denn'ryiel walks into the infirmary quietly, with a vaguely disapproving
look on her face. She looks around for whatever cot the trainee might be on
this time.

Sitting on one of the far cots, off to the side because he doesn't really
have that bad a injury, they just wanted him to stay put a couple hours to
make sure he didn't have any side-effects. Neelkan's left hand is wrapped
up with bandages, all up his fingers and down his wrist. And he's luckily
not in a silly infirmary shift, but he isn't wearing the clothes he road
into battle in. He sits there in a grump and fidgeting his legs, waiting
impatiently when he sees Denn. "'ey!" he waves his unbandaged hand in her
direction and smiles.

Denn'ryiel smiles just slightly and walks over in Neelkan's direction. "I
knew I should have done something about replacing the cots here with
feather beds," she says, taking a seat on the cot next to him. "What
happened to you?" she asks, with concern now.

Lifting up his bandaged hand lightly, Neelkan says with a small shrug,
"'parently, Fade's blood isn't a good thing t' get on ya. I didn't know 'at
'til it started makin' a big ol' itchy rash on m' skin lil' while after.
'ey said I should b' fine, but 'ey wanted t' keep an eye on it after
gettin' it cleaned off 'n stuff." He really should take a few Shadowlore
classes before offering to occupany Light Armies anywhere.

Denn'ryiel nods her head once with a small smile. "Still, considering what
might have happened, it seems a blessing. I wish you had told me you were
going off with the Army." If memory served, the only reason he fought last
time was because of her.

Yes. That's true. She was the only reason he fought last time. The reason
this time was quite similar. Neelkan wanted a chance to get back Verbena
actually. But he never got close. "I would've told ya, but..." He didn't
really want her to go. He didn't want her in danger... "Anyway, I'm fine.
Killed m' first Fade, e'en."

Denn'ryiel sighs her head and nods. "It's alright... Next time though I
expect you to be the one sitting around the Tower worried silly," she says,
with a grin.

Reaching forward with his unbandaged hand, Neelkan lightly pokes her in the
shoulder, "No way. I don't go f'r 'at sorta thin', 'anks. I'd much rather
be in the battle. Ya don't want m' waitin' 'ere worryin'." Cause he'll
likely end up busting his fists on a tree in frustration. He's not good at
handling those sorts of things.

Denn'ryiel rolls her eyes slightly and leans forward. "You sound as though
you think I enjoyed waiting here. Not that my Sisters didn't find enough to
keep me entertained." These last few days Denn has been subjected to a
'crash course' in White Ajah primers. "Was there any news about Verbena?"
she suddenly asks, changing subjects.

Sighing sadly, Neelkan shakes his head lightly, frowning off in the
direction of... well... something, but nothing of specific intrest. "No. No
word." He wished there had been.