01.02.09 - Starts With Fatigue

Location: Redwall Cavern Hole and Library

Characters Involved: Sivaine, Nathan, Beatrix, Magramba, Zoe_Lang, Ender, Tameus, Brenden, Zade

The few hours Sivaine has when she's warm and indoors are precious things, so now that fatigue has started to ebb a bit she tries to make them as productive as she can. For now, this means doing three things at once - eat, stretch her bad arm between bites, and peruse a much-folded letter lying face-up to the left of her soup bowl. But she looks nice, at least; that's definitely a new tunic.

Nathan has already eaten; he carries a mug of beer in one hand as he heads into the cavern hole, glancing around, then aiming across the room toward Sivaine. His toolkit is in the other hand. "You know," he says to the other mouse, pushing a chair closer to hers and sinking down into it - his feet propped up on the edge as he leans back. "I'm starting to think everywhere I go .. Ardie is going to leap out at me. Vengeful little sister. That soup was a bit spicy." He takes a swallow of the beer.

"Then you're probably getting paranoid," Sivaine replies after she finishes her current mouthful. The mouse pulls her arm across her body with her other and looks over one shoulder at him. "She's not malicious." Her gaze flicks to the ceiling for a moment, then back. "When she's awake, anyway. Haven't run into her yet?"

"No," Nathan responds. "By which I mean - yes, I am paranoid, and no, I haven't seen her. For all that everyone is in one place, it's hard to find someone. ... unless you're not looking, then you just bump into them. Or get punched by them. Something." He tosses Sivaine a wry smile, sits up a bit more, and pulls a small table over. His beer is set down and he unfolds the tool kit across his lap, pulling out a small pair of pliers and some wire.

Sivaine raises a brow at him. "I never pegged you for paranoid," she replies with the faintest of smirks. "Doesn't suit you at all. Try wandering into the kitchens one day; she's usually around. Or should I arrange a formal meeting?" She releases her arm and leans forward to take another spoonful of soup and scan another line of the letter. "She never hated you."

"No .. no, nothing formal necessary," Nathan mutters with a smiling, squinty-eyed look at Sivaine. "I know she doesn't /hate/ me but I really have no idea if she'll be glad to see me or not. Or if she grew up into a younger version of you and is likely to take my head off with a polearm."

A gentle murmur of cloth; a fine, velvety fluttering noise, and the empty spot at the base of the stairs is no longer so. Beatrix alights upon the flagstones, gliding down from the Great Hall. This late in the evening, with the sun already down, she need not squint in the light from the windows, and her dark eyes glitter in the hearth-light.

"..uh," says Sivaine, focusing on a point just above Nathan's left shoulder until reality overrides the mental image. "No. She's blossomed into a summer maid sweet and fair, with golden curls and flowing skirts and a trail of broken hearts in her wake." She recites this in a singsong fashion, almost. "I don't think she's used a sling in years, though I'd still wake her by poking with a stick."

Sivaine's ears flicker at the sound of wings, but her attention is focused on food, reading, stretching, and Nathan, who is claiming a growing share.

"Okay, so. She's in fact not at /all/ like a younger version of you," Nathan chuckles, glancing down as he cuts a small piece of wire and works it into a ring with the tools. His voice lowers. "Well. .. except for that 'broken hearts' bit." He glances over, sees the bat, and his brows lift a fraction - though a moment later his gaze is on Sivaine again.

Sivaine looks at Nathan, Nathan at Sivaine, and Beatrix at neither. At least, not with her eyes. Her shape-sight catches back an intricate and detailed echo of the lovers, as well as the rest of the room. Forbearing to interrupt, she makes her way in near silence to the morris-board in the corner, a carved gaming table with intricate knotwork trembling over its wooden surface. The chairs there are small enough for the tiny batmaiden, and she flutters into one.

Sivaine's eyes narrow a fraction at that addition, and not warmly. "..no. Not at /all/ like a younger version of me," she repeats gravely, an uncharacteristic - or characteristic, depending on the listener - note of chill creeping into her tone. She follows Nathan's briefly diverted attention and nods - "Oh. Lady Bea." It's a greeting mingled with faint surprise; when did she see her last? "You've been well?"

Nathan's eyes narrow a little. He hit a nerve, he knows that much. "Siva," he says, quietly, questioningly, with his brows raised. "... hm. I take it back. Not similar at all." This is mused as he looks toward Beatrix, distracted initially by trying to figure out just what nerve it was - then his muzzle spreads into an easy, warm smile at the little bat. "Evening miss."

Beatrix is seldom seen. Part of this has to do with her hours-- she roams the abbey when the rest of the residents are fast asleep. "Mistress Sivaine," she cheeps, voice high and regally modulated. "Grant you good eve. Most well, an I thank you. I trust this moonrise finds you the same?" It's a formal question, and an unnecessary one; there's little that goes on in the abbey that escapes the attention of the Lady Lascaux. The training sessions, the state of Siv's recovery-- it's doubtful she knows less than the infirmary staff themselves. Nathan gets a courtly dip of the head, with a gently sinuous smile. "Bright moon and gentle winds, gentlebeast." Her shape-sight classfies: mouse, male, unfamiliar. Likely to be the reunited beau of Sivaine. There is little that goes on in the abbey that escapes the attention of the Lady Lascaux.

Sivaine's ire is quick to fade; she just dips her head to her rising spoon with a little glance sideways and a murmur of "Later. Promise." The corner of the letter is starting to lose its battle with gravity and sink dangerously low over the soup bowl; Sivaine absently flicks it back and turns her attention to Beatrix. "..yes," she decides with another brief glance to Nathan, though it's a guarded admission. "Though I've news that gives me worry. ..I don't think you've met?" This last is directed at both of them, with a tilt of her head.

".. bright moon and .. right. To you as well," Nathan returns with a slight grin. "... and may the mosquitoes be plentiful." Mumbled, the last part. His head ducks slightly as he slides thumb and forefinger into a pouch of beads, rooting around until he finds the right color. The bead is slid onto the wire and he brings the ends together in a ring, clipping slightly to adjust the size, then shaking his head. Eyes back to Beatrix, now. "We haven't. I'm Nathan, and you are .. Lady Bea, was it?"

Beatrix rises, graceful as smoke, only to dip a perfect curtsy. "Lady Beatrix Neia Lascaux, gentlebeast. I fear there are few mosquitoes ere spring-- and my taste has n'er found them of much savor." A wry twist at the edges of her muzzle. Beatrix is to elegant to smirk. "Well met, Master Nathan." Her head cants, just so, to make eye contact-- a polite formality her ears do not require-- with Sivaine. "Oh? Hast vexing news? I pray you, tell me what you would, good mistress. I would lend council if I may."

Sivaine catches that little mumble of Nathan's; she's sitting right next to him, after all. Her mouth curves in wry amusement - and moreso when the Lady answers - though there's something faintly fond mixed in there too. "Eh. Right. The.." ..the news, right. "Gwennythe - a squirrel from the clan arrived with news of her the other day. She.. sounds as if she's not doing too well." Her brows furrow; she frowns. "I don't really understand it - herbal overdose and she won't wake."

"... uhh. Well. Strike that, and insert your bug-of-choice, then," Nathan chuckles, glancing along Beatrix's features and then at Sivaine. He doesn't know Gwennythe, but his expression takes on a kind of impersonal concern - more for Sivaine's worry than for the beast in question. His ears quirk up but his eyes are down, on the wire and beads, linking little rings of metal together into the start of an earring. Silence from this one for now.

Her chin lifts. Her ears forward, catching every shadow of sound. Bea's dark eyes are suddenly denser, their gaze adamantine. "Maid Gwennythe? Beseek you-- continue. I would know all." Gwen, one of the few other bats regular to the abbey, is of special concern to Bea. Almost a ward. While her composure remains flawless, there's no mistaking the care in the tiny bat's manner. Nathan's witticism garners no response-- Beatrix is suddenly all business, the matriarch of a house of Highscarp. The illness of another has her undivided attention.

And this is as Sivaine predicted it would be. She slips down slightly, stretching out a leg; the chair opposite her scrapes away from the table. "Please," she gestures, and has another spoonful of soup. "I don't know how much there is to tell. A big squirrel arrived with a package from her. He said she'd.. mixed up some decoction and wouldn't wake." By the way her eyes narrow, it's likely other things were said. "He was neither helpful nor pleasant." A pause, another flickering glance to Nathan. "No word of Sharpclaw. I'd.. thought of going down there."

Sivaine says, "Haven't heard anything from my aunt, but that's neither here nor there."

Beatrix's wings fold before her as she listens diligently. Her eyes are still on Sivaine, but they're staring past her, as her mind precisely weighs and discards multiple options, carefully but quickly sorting through possible outcomes. "Paraunter. Brother Sharpclaw hast no little skill in the arts of the chirurgeon, yet I confess myself uneasy in this news. I cannot credit Maid Gwennythe with such witling action-- I would fain learn what I may with mine own ears." Her decision now chiseled in granite, her voice firms. Still high pitched but cracking like a lash. Albeit a velvety one. "Mistress Sivaine-- I would ask you supply directions to this camp. I will away ere the hour of midnight this eve."

Nathan listens and says nothing. His ears are cocked forward, gaze giving brief flicks toward Sivaine - judging the level of her concern. And his hands move, adding another bit of wire, another bead; and another; and another and then he digs into a pocket in the kit searching for the earring hook.

"It sounded daft to me, but I'd rather not chance it." Sivaine looks.. intent, the way she does when training. The mousemaid nods, just once, and reaches for the letter. "The library? Do you need a map?" she asks, folding the paper in thirds and slipping it between tunic and shirt. "And.. mm. You're capable, I know, and the owl's dealt with, but I'd see you there safe in this weather." What's left unspoken is more a request than a decision to accompany.

The stone stairs pulse out their strange echo as Magramba enters from Great Hall, his neck wrapped tightly against the chill. The squirrel glances over the assembled company as he makes his way to a chair near the fire, ears swiveling slightly towards them. "Evening."

Nathan's eyebrows lift. He twists and bends the last bit of metal into place, finishing the earring as he looks up between the two. "This sounds a bit like a quest," he muses, gaze flicking from one to the other. It hovers on Sivaine.

Bea's posture is iron. Tiny, yes, but it is unwise to underestimate the bloodline of the Lascaux. "Gramercy-- yet a map would avail me little in the night; nor would I find it... convenient to consult in the air. Yet if I were to look upon such, ere I depart, it would aid my memory, I do think." A nod. "Yes. The library then." She regards Sivaine for a moment, her ears measuring the echo of the mouse from every angle in her mind. She assesses her not as a mouse, but as a seasoned traveler, warrior in training, and scout. Her tone softens a bit, voice a diplomatic murmur. "I pray you, think not that I would gainsay your skill, good mistress. Yet my folk may travel quicker when the lady moon is in the sky, and shadows keep all from a lowlander. I may yet be there before the sun rises, if I depart within the hour."

"They're only called that after you're home and safe," Sivaine replies with good humor in Nathan's direction. She glances only briefly to Magramba and nods; that's it. Other business to attend to. A rueful smile graces her muzzle. "I thought you might say as much. I'll see you to directions, then, and.. will you be warm enough, Lady?" The mousemaid rises, with a questioning look at the other mouse - coming?

Beatrix's decorum will allow no less than a curtsy towards Magramba, though it's a quick one. "Highscarp is a most lofty pinnacle," she points out to Sivaine as she starts for the stairs. "I cannot claim the winter snows unfamiliar. My comfort is of lesser concern this eve." Translation: she'll be freezing, but would never shirk duty just to stay warm.

Magramba twitches an ear at the sound of their conversation, and pauses involuntarily in his stride. Got the ring of adventure... The squirrel decides that if help is wanted, the best way to get included is to make himself conspicuous without intruding. He veers off and takes a seat at a nearby table, reclining gently on two legs.

He's summoned like a dog - or a well-trained beau. Nathan tucks his tools away and rises, looking toward the bat with a curious smile. This is their conversation, and a rather serious one, so the smith doesn't intrude. He fiddles with the earring in between his thumb and forefinger.

"Comfort, yes, but safety, no," Sivaine is saying as she enters the library with long, quick strides. She's on a mission. "I'd rather you not freeze because of hasty preparations." It's done with some hesitation; the Brennigs brook a certain respect for the Lady Lascaux. "Maps," she mutters, heading with purpose for that section.

Nathan follows Sivaine, fixing the ties to hold his toolkit shut and stashing this in the bag over his shoulder. He has his beer with him, which he takes a large swig of as he pauses in the doorway, glancing around. So far he's a tag-along and not bothered by it.

"Gramercy-- I would hope not to freeze, myself. Yet the night is clear, and there falls neither snow nor sleet this eve. I will think myself warm enow, in flight." Her voice carries the ring of certainty, though in all honesty she's not sure of that herself. Balancing warm clothes with weight while flying is a difficult concern, and she cannot cover her wings at all, or navigate if her ears are bundled. It's a measure of her worry that she's set on taking such a risk. As Sivaine moves to get the maps, Beatrix sashays to a table and clears off some lettering primers left by dibbuns. Yes, it's the smallest, shortest table in the room-- you expected her to stand on a chair?

Still in the doorway, Nathan quietly clears his throat at Sivaine. "Siva, I'm going to do some work. Just .. don't go trekking off anywhere without me, right?" His eyes are half-shut, expression amused and fond.

"Lady, you know far more of flying than I do," Sivaine calls as she makes a sharp left into the shelves. "But we'd rather you safe as well. Ardice worries," she adds as an afterthought, slowing her pace among the honeycomb lattices to track down a particular scroll. Not that she doesn't too. "What?" she calls distractedly. Her form is obscured but visible, stretching up to reach the higher areas. There's a thump and a curse. "What idiot put- ..oh. No. No, I won't." She appears around the shelves again, one hand holding the scroll and the other rubbing at a spot between her ears. "I'm not going anywhere." There's a very faint smile.

"... don't get crushed by wayward tomes, either, please," Nathan shoots back at Sivaine, and steps out.

"Try grimoires," she calls.

The table cleared, Beatrix waits for Sivaine to lay out the maps. She neither fidgets, nor paces. A lady does not show impatience, though she knows too well that every minute delayed means the night outside will be that much colder. "I fear mine own health remains less tenuous than that of the good Gwennythe. You may allay Maid Ardice's worries as best you are able; an mine own apologies will tender when next we share tea in my chambers."

Brenden comes walking into the library with a bored look on his face. One of his ears droops down over his eye and he's dressed like he's not 'on duty'. Casual and not in his usual sharp looking uniform. He glances about in a way that says he doesn't really expect to find anything interesting in the library.

And stepping in just as Nathan steps out come two old fogies! Not that you could be caught dead calling them that, of course. Ender and Zoe aren't exactly paw-in-paw, but they /are/ walking next to each other. But not speaking. The rabbit shoots Zoe a look, as if he's about to prove that he is a genius once and for all. Which he is, of course! He clears his throat loudly. "Now. I will find the book, and you will see that the twenty-eighth king of southsward was NOT...whatever it is you said, but was Leofranz the Second!" With that pronouncement, he turns to the stacks. Hmm. Where to start. He notes the other beasts in the room, and walks towards them. Help, perhaps?

"I /said/ it wasn't a King a'tall, but a Queen. It's a famous tale - oh," Zoe waves a paw in feigned displeasure. "If you don't know it, m'not going t'tell you." She just. Snorts.

There's a certain energy and bustle surrounding Sivaine and Beatrix that doesn't suggest they're going over a leisurely survey of places to vacation in summer. Sivaine's eyes linger on the doorway a moment to watch Nathan go, and.. suddenly it's a brace of hares. And one rabbit. Her brows lift slightly. "Colonel," she greets, with a little nod to the other two, then continues over to the table. The map is set down and unrolled in a businesslike fashion; Sivaine bends her head over it and gets her bearings. "Just be safe as you're able, please," she says quietly to Beatrix. "I'd miss your rosehip tea. Right, now.. this is the Abbey.." One paw holding the map open, she uses the other to trace along its surface. "..and the camp is.. ..here."

Sivaine says, "Four large trees form a clearing. It's a few hours away by foot. And.. Lady, if I can ask a favor?"

What! Sounds like an /adventure/! Zoe's words go unheeded, not that this should surprise anyone, and Ender turns towards the table. "Er, good evening ladies." He looks at the map. "Heading somewhere tonight?" Southsward's royalty is forgotten - for now.

Brenden raises a brow when Siv looks in his general direction and says 'Colonel'. The private turns his head and spots Zoe. His eyes get wide, the horror stories that he was told by Taye and Dark all still fresh in his mind. He changes direction and starts to incospicuously move away.

Used to navigating from the air, the view a map provides is easily digested by the intent batmaiden. It's the world she catches echoes of from above, in miniature. Of course, a flat image carries no echoes-- the maps her folk make sometimes /are/ miniatures, though those are hardly something you can roll up and tuck in a pocket. Her ears swivel. "Good eve, everychon. I pray your forgiveness-- the good mistress and I have little time to be social." With her eyes still on the map, her exquisitely modulated voice aims at Sivaine. "What wouldst ask of me, Mistress Sivaine?"

Zoe_Lang's muzzle turns in a scowl. "He just knows I'm right," she mutters to herself. And heads over, peering over his shoulder with a paw resting on his shoulder. Slight lean! The old supporting the old, how sweet. She scans the map, curiosity piqued.

Tameus is wearing his midwinter gift! That is, the leveret is all decked out in a perfect miniature Long Patrol uniform, boot laces tied (all by himself!) and the insignia of Colonel present on the tunic. He looks quite strapping, really, for all that he's .. tiny. He's in search of Sivaine, actually, who he approaches with a little trot, around and past Zoe and Ender, and heads toward the... ".. Siva, why y' 't a kid table?" He's picked up an alternate nickname!

"Evening. Just a quick jaunt." It's a rather terse greeting from Sivaine; her gaze flickers only briefly to the approaching parties, and then her attention is back to Bea. "My uncle," she tells her, still leaning over the map. "Fenshire. He's a squirrel. If he's still fond of his liripipe hat you'll find him with no trouble, but- just a minute, Tam," she says distractedly, "Anyway. Let him know I'm calling in a nameday present? He's to let Gwennythe have what she likes from his stores. And.. if she's awake, tell her thank you. Very much." Her voice is low and sincere.

Ender is conflicted. This looks totally interesting, but also important. Once Zoe is leaning on him, he begins eyeing the seats. Awfully far away, and probably impossible to get up from. Once he decides to remain standing, he considers getting angry at the two beasts for being snooty. This also seems like it wouldn't be all that much fun. "'Ey, look at the little colonel!" End smiles down at Tam. "Have we met?" yay, distraction!

Beatrix finishes memorizing the landmarks she'll need to navigate, trying to select ones that she can recognize the echoes of. If the camp is a few hours journey to a lowlander, she expects to be there well before sunrise. She'll still have time to return to her chambers and add another layer of clothing against the cold as well. She regards Sivaine with a level gaze, but with traces of amusement dancing in the corners. "I should be pleased. An do thank you as well, Mistress. I will return as quickly as circumstance does allow." Straightening, she dips an elegant curtsy to the assembled. "Bright moon and gentle winds, everychon. I regret this evening does find me... more than occupied." A final, regal nod at Sivaine, grateful smile wreathing her muzzle, and she sweeps out of the library, intent on getting started immediately.

Zoe_Lang's attention is also turned to the miniature Colonel. She bliiiiinks. Oh hey, it's Tam! "/This/... is Tameus. Though I haven't seen him this finely attired before!" She stops leaning. They are neither of them young enough for all that! "Where'd you get such a fine uniform, Tam?"

'Just a minute, Tam' is a phrase he hears a lot. The leveret smirks at Sivaine, about to say something - regarding the teeny-table again, no doubt - when his attention is drawn to Ender. Anyone who calls him Colonel gets brownie points. He beams up at the elder pair, gaze going from Zoe to Ender. "Hi!" the rabbit is greeted, then he answers the hare, "M' da' made 't f' me. S' jus' th' same 's y'rs!"

Eeeek! He'ssocute! Ender's days as caretaker come flashing back and he melts a tiny bit on the inside. And also on the outside. "Aw" is about all he can get out. The departing bat is duly noted, and he turns to Sivaine again. "What was all that now? Anything to worry about?" Because he can always help with that!

Yep, successfully escaped the notice of the crazed colonel. He had no desire to be bitten tonight. Problem is, now Brenden was stuck in the library with them inbetween the door and himself. That was an easy enough fix. Just go and occupy time and space between the bookshelves. He starts on his way towards the background to blend in. Colonels had a way of naturally scaring the privates, and with majors and lieutenants filling their heads with stories of biting and spitting, what is one to do.

"Safe journey, Lady," Sivaine calls after her, straightening up with the map. She lets out a little sigh and winds down a few notches, really looking at Ender and Zoe for the first time. "Sorry to be short with you. Lady Bea's in a hurry - there's news a friend of ours is ill." Comatose, more like. She rolls up the scroll as she explains. The Colonel she knows, but Ender gets an appraising look - hello, you're new. A little smirk crosses her muzzle at Tam's antics.

"Siva!" Tam trills at Sivaine, turning away from the older lapines. "Siva-siva-siva. I haft' show y' some'n. I wan'ed t' show 'Arper bu' 'e's still p'tendin' t' be sick an' I need /some'n/ t' show 't t'! Else 'm gonn' /'plode/!"

Oh, but crazy biting colonels have a sixth sense for sneaking privates! Zoe turns, thoughtfully, and scooches a little away from the others, scanning the library. Curious old doe, she is. She calls back, "Well, that was very nice of Harper." Hm. Her ears perk at the mention of 'sick'. There are a number of hares at the 67th who are sick, as well...

The form of Brenden did stop and he did turn his head at the mention of 'sick'. That was one area he could help with, though, this was the first he was hearing about it. He'd been out training and away from all ways to get news.

Ender is /not/ sick, so he plans on staying that way by not talking about it. Of course now the conversation is going in that direction. Er, rather the conversation is going away. He opts for silence, waiting to see if Tam is going to produce something amazing.

He's surrounded by people he actually /likes/! That makes his attention span a little. Uhm. Restricted. He pivots back around to look at Zoe as she edges away toward the shelves. "Wasn' jus'! An' 'e got me a slin' an' 'e's s'posed t' teach me t' use it but!" He inhales. Talking a bit fast, are we, Tam. ".. bu' 'e's not. 'e's not /really/ sick bu' 'e's tryin'a tell me 'e is. Silly. Siva c'n I show y', c'n I?"

Confronted by an energetic child, Sivaine finds herself having to put in the clutch and switch gears a little faster than she'd like. "..only if you don't choke on your tongue first," she manages, tucking the map under her arm. "You can show me but I have to put this away first."

Zoe_Lang spots Brenden, haha! She quirks a brow. "Private?" she calls. Ha. Haha! Found you! Her lower-rank sense was tingling. "Seems this pretend sickness has touched many, s'far. Hasn't taken anyone t'the Dark Forest yet, s'far as I know..." Positive! Think positive.

Sivaine asks, "Harper's still pretending to be sick, is he?"

Ender needs to steer away from this topic! Talking about sick /makes/ you sick! He lopes over to Zoe. "A Private? Creepin' around here?" This is meant to be menacing and hilarious. But it doesn't quite come out right.

"Aye 'e is 't that!" Tam responds, and scowls. "I think 'e wants me t' feel bad. 'e's actin' like 'e's got th' same sick I 'ad!" He waits, bouncing from foot to foot a little, while Sivaine puts the map away.

Brenden closes his eyes and curses his natural instinct at being a healer. He opens them and moves quickly over to the Colonel, "Good eve colonel," moving to attention as he gets there, despite not being in his uniform. When the other, one he didn't know, speaks up he wants to look to see just who he was. But, head and eyes forward, don't do anything. Sometimes, the ones with rank get bored and move on once they learn that the private finds a 'happy place' rather quickly.

Zoe_Lang looks 'round at Ender. Smirks! Rather fiendishly, at that. She might start biting at any moment. "So it'd seem! And not even a propah greetin'." Oh, wait, there it is! Zoe inclines her head to Bren. "At ease, lad. A healer, are you? Have you had any word of this sickness, yet?"

Boo! Guess sickness is all the rage, then. Ender looks at the healer, ready to be impressed. Young Patrollers these days...generally a sharp lot. Again, there isn't room for him to really say anything. Sniff. Poor, neglected End.

Sivaine's gaze flicks to the higher-ups bearing down on Brenden There's a mix of amusement and sympathy in her expression. Mostly amusement. She makes her way back into the shelves and replaces the map in a pigeonhole that /doesn't/ threaten to ambush unwary browsers, and returns. "Or he's actually sick," she points out reasonably. "These things sort of pass on." For a moment, she wrinkles her nose.. then blinks, and shakes her head. "Nn."

Brenden moves his paws behind his back and he slightly turns his head now that it was acceptable for him to look around. He looks back to Zoe and nods, "Yes'm. But I haven' 'eard about it. Been out trainin, jus' got in night before last. If I could see a beast wot 'ad this sickness, I'm sure I could figuh it out." He swallows, still clearly nervous, but does venture to continue, "Top 'o me class ma'am. I haven't found sommat I couldn' fix yet." Why not try to pump himself up a little, get a little more confidence into that nearly shaking body.

Tameus swivels around where he stands to fix Sivaine with a hard look. "M' da'. 's /not/. Sick."

"E'eryone in th' 'firm'ry is," the leveret says after a moment. "E'eryone coughin' an' wheezin' an' 'ot 's 'ell, bu' /m'/ da' - 'e ain' really sick."

Zoe_Lang gives Ender a sideways glance. And a nudge! Nudge. "It'd appear that the only thing the sickness /doesn't/ like is the old 'n' /truly/ infirm, eh End?" She then considers Bren. "Give a look up in the infirmary, you'll find beasts sick enough, lad."

Ender yays! Attention! He nudges back a little. "Takes more than a little bug to take down the true greats, Zo." Posing just a /tad/, the rabbit looks back at the healer. "So. You're new? Or I'm behind on greeting recruits?"

Brenden nods and snaps to attention to move off on her orders, "Yes ma'am!" Then he stops when Ender speaks up, "I s'pose I've been about for a little while. Haven' been around 'eah though. Aftah th' owl bit, I's sent out tah tha woods fer training sah. I'm in Majah Darklett's patrol sah." Now he just kind of hesitates, wondering if he should continue off to check the infirmary or stay there since he was addressed. Such a confusing rank. Maybe he'd get some once he had the time to talk with other healers about some things.

"Well, the truly great 'n' their sidekicks, at least," is Zoe's reply. She coughs. Aha. Ha! "This is... Private Brandon, I believe?" Zoe quirks a quizzical brow at the Private, thinking that's perhaps not quite right.

Which leaves Sivaine minding the kiddies. Not that she seems to mind too much, although she keeps an ear angled to the grown-up conversation out of sheer habit and nosiness. For a long moment she regards Tam, then nods. "What did you want to show me, then?" she asks. Change of topic.

Ender nods amiably. "Priv Brandon" Yeah, he said it like that. "Nice to meet you.." Owl...training..patrol...uhh, okay! He nods, barely understanding any of this, but enjoying the politeness of it. "I'm Ender, haven't got any rank. I , uh, used to take care of the leverets. Now I bother Zoe, and sometimes other patrollers." Erp, hope that came across right.

Tameus's ears perk up. "I c'n tie m' laces!" he tells Sivaine, proudly. One hand gestures at the others present. "E'eryone watch!" 'cause it's really freaking amazing. He goes to sit in one of the little-kid chairs and unties the laces of his boots.

"Mostly me, though. You might call it a pet project of his. He's keeping track of the exact numbah of days it takes t'drive me crazy. I might just randomly start bitin' folks at any second," the Colonel muses. But anyway! "I've got a cursory list of symptoms, if yer interested, Brandon." Go ahead! Correct her! Do it!

Brenden sort of shakes his head and lowers his voice, "Bre..." He looks at Ender and nods, Pleashah tah meetcha sah," still very unsure of whether he was supposed to be at attention, at ease, or at....moving towards the infirmary. Either way, he just hoped that he wasn't coming off as very awkward. At the sound of her biting, he does take a step backwards. He forces himself to nod, "Yes'm. That'd help." His ears have since drooped a little at his predicament.

Sivaine trails over to watch. "I'm watching," she murmurs, an attentive audience. Semi-attentive. She blinks and shakes her head, then focuses. Training makes you /tired./

So only Siv is watching. Even so, Tam makes a great show and spectacle of retying first one set of laces, then the other, and then kicks his legs triumphantly. He's on a kid-chair and his feet don't quite touch the floor. "Lookit, see!"

"That's good," Sivaine observes with a flicker of a grin as she leans over to inspect the leveret's work. "How much did you have to practice before you got it?" Polite questions, but she's drooping a bit. She didn't count on her break being spent being an amateur travel agent.

Ender is good with noticing little things like that, however! He turns towards Tam and smiles. "Woah! How'd you manage that, little 'un? How old are you anyway? I couldn't do such a thing until I was, oh, five seasons!" Which was a freaking lifetime ago...yikes. He turns to the other conversation. "It turns out that it's about seven days. Maybe eight. And she's right about there now, so..." Oh, that rabbit.

Ah! She must have gotten it right, then! "Well, Brandon, the symptoms seem t'start out as fatigue, then general achiness, mild fever, 'n' chills, 'n' escalatin' up with a dry, hackin' cough, high fever, sore 'n' swollen throat, trouble breathin', 'n' so on. The healers have so far been focusin' on combattin' the symptoms." Pause. Brow-quirk. "I s'pose I'll just have t'bite whoever's closest, won't I?" Harharhar. Ender gets a small eyebrow waggle. No seriously! He does! Or maybe it was an old person twitch. Or maybe she's having a stroke. Who knows!

Brenden seems to have forgotten his fear of her and narrows his eyes, looking down in thought. He mutters something under his breath, "Symptoms aren't the cause. Ferget about most 'o 'em." Yep, get his mind on his job and he forgets about most everything else, even his name being wrong.

Playful banter between old fogies does not interest Sivaine. Medical information does, and her ears angle back a fraction to better catch the sound. Her eyes stray away from Tam for a moment as she listens. Nosy mouse.

"Few days," Tam answers, tilting his head. His look says, 'where's the /enthusiasm/?' "M' da' taugh' me!" He informs Ender, with a look at Sivaine. Take some lessons from the old man, Siv. "'e gave me th' un'form an' taugh' me t' tie th' laces onna boots!"

Then Tameus looks at Sivaine. She is Not Paying Attention. "Hey."

Ender's found someone who's more interesting than some old medical textbook he used to care about. He walks towards Tam and kneels. Yes, he actually does - joints popping, face contorting. Aw, he /cares/. Nodding at the mouse, End looks at the leveret. "And your da's Harper, eh? He's a good buck. You keep trying to be like him...and maybe a lil' bit like the Colonel back here...you'll end up a right ol' hero." He glances over his shoulder before whispering conspiratoraly "But don't tell her I said that!"

"Mmh. Sorry, Tam." Sivaine returns her attention to the kid. "I'm a little tired. That's good. A few days - you lean fast." She closes her eyes for a moment, then looks up to the windows. "Need to be back outside soon," she murmurs to herself, and brushes some headfur out of her eyes. Ender is just.. looked at, and Sivaine straightens up, absently rubbing at the cuff of her tunic.

Waitwhat. Playful banter between old fogies is the best. thing. ever! Come ooooon. Zoe's eyes rest upon Brenden now, though. "Well, Brandon, I'm sure they'll be glad o' yer fresh trainin'. If you please, I'd appreciate regular reports on your findings." She glances back at Ender. Ahhhh, his weakness strikes again. Smirk.

Tameus beams brightly as Ender kneels in front of his chair, and straightens his legs out. Look, laces! "'e /is/ a good buck. Th' bestes' bes' da'. An' y' know 'e's r'lated t' th' Colonel, meanin' /I/ am now. An' 'm gonn' be Colonel one day, too!"

Brenden nods quickly to Zoe, "Yes'm." It might be noticed that each time his name is messed up, he closes his eyes in a very slight wince. He starts to turn to leave, considers something, decides against it, reconsiders, decides against it again and looks down at Tam. He gave Tam a little smile. Tam was his ear-hustlin buddy outside of the infirmary door a few nights ago. He finally turns to leave the library, letting them all go on with what they were doing.

Tameus glances at Zoe. "Wha'sat make y' now, Colonel? M' gran'mum?"

Ender almost claps his paws in delight. Hanging out with old beasts is fun, but the younger ones are infinitely more interesting. They make him feel far more alive than any amount of recruits. Or officers. Sans Zoe, of course. Hearing Tam's question to Zoe, End kinda sorta turns to look at her. Because if /she's/ related to Tam, does that make /him/ related to Tam? Kind of maybe but not really? Wouldn't that be something! "Aye, your da's the very best. But don't tell anyone I said that, neither. I've got a reputation to uphold! Grumpy old Ender, an' all."

"Great aunt," Sivaine murmurs absently. Maybe it's the sudden explosion in the local hare population, but she's starting to look.. distinctly uncomfortable, or at least a little unwell. Her eyes lid over partly and she shakes her head again, turning away. "I need to go, Tam. The laces - good job. Really."

Hm. The Colonel thinks a moment. "I think... I would be something like your third or fourth cousin twice removed, lad. But Jarril 'n' I have never quite figured out the exact relation." Pause. "But you c'n just call me gran'mum, if you want."

Tameus beams back and forth between Ender and Zoe! Attention! Family! Related to Awesome People! "Arrigh', Colonel, y'r m' gran'mum then. Y' know 'm gonn' meet 'nother gran'mum soon. 'Arper's mum." He peers at Ender. "I don' think y'r grumpy, I think y'r nice! But I won' tell, I pr'mise!"

Ender is sooo close to telling Tam to call him Grandpa or something. His heart melts at the thoughts. But that would be a teensy bit assuming. Or would it? He files this away for later discussion and then slooooooowly stands. "It is /far/ too late for me to be awake. Tam, you keep this secret, alright? Otherwise I'll be a laughingstock." Because he's not one already! Walking towards Zoe, End leans in almost close enough for a kiss on the cheek, too proper to actually ddo such a thing in the presence of others. "G'night, Zoe. Pleasant dreams." A general wave is given if there are still others in the room...they all seem to be making their way out.

"I will!" Tam says cheerfully toward Ender as he exits. He swings his legs a little and gets down from the chair, looking around for .. waitasec, where'd Siv go? :|

Sivaine has paused to lean against a shelf and just.. blink, for a moment. "Something I ate?" she mutters to herself.

So the leveret ends up wandering toward her, brows furrowed. Concern, yes, that is the expression most evident. "Siva?"

Brenden stops in his leaving and turns his head towards Sivaine, "Um...are yah alright?"

"Mmh." Sivaine blinks at Tam, then Brenden. "I'm fine. Tired. I've been running around in the snow all day is all," she tells them, though her eyes stay on the patrol healer only a moment before they trail back to the leveret. "Well, running and whacking things."

Brenden watches her for a long moment and decides to stick around for at least until he could make sure she was alright. He makes his way over to her, "Open yer eyes wide please," he says as he gets closer.

Hm! Well, if Ender's going. The Colonel watches him go, then turns her attention briefly to the other. She frowns, though in a distracted sort of manner. Half concern! "Well, I must be on to sleep m'self." She waves. Yes. "Night, all." And off she limps!

"Nigh' Colonel!" Tam aims at the departing doe, then leans up, hands against Sivaine's leg and inspecting her face. "'ey. 'ey Siva. Y'r not sick, stop actin' like 't."

Uhh. Sivaine gives Brenden an odd look, then sort of mentally shrugs and does so, lending a certain clarity to their blue-green shade. "Good night, Colonel," she calls, briefly glancing that way. Then back. Bad semi-patient.

Brenden reaches a paw over to the table and grabs a candle. He moves the candle inbetween their faces as he checks the dialation of her pupils. For the moment, he decides to put Tam out of his mind.

Hard to put Tam out of one's mind when said leveret is tug-tugging on the patient's arm. And tug he does, giving Sivaine noises that are both questioning and scolding. "Stop. Stop. Tell 'im y'r not."

"Tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking," Sivaine murmurs to Brenden. She squints, grimacing faintly, then forces her eyes open again; her pupils contract evenly. "I'm just tired," she repeats.. well, tiredly, bracing her feet against Tam's tugging. "It's close to midnight, a good friend of mine is ill and another traveling in bad weather, and I've been training with a staff and running around the Abbey all day." She's not sick. No.

Sivaine says, "So I'm bound to be a little fatigued."

Tameus lets go, and pouts. "'m gonn' fin' y'r otter, /'e'll/ tell y' y'r not sick!" he says, scowly as anything, and heads out of the library.

Brenden nods slowly, "It's jus...I jus' found out about this sickness, don' know anythin about it aside from what tha colonel tells me." He sets the candle down and turns to head out, again, "Jus wanna do what I can tah help."

"Tam." You can't really say Sivaine calls after the leveret; that implies she raises her voice. Her eyes go back to Brenden and she pushes herself upright. "I understand that. Is it getting bad, then? I've been busy; not quite up on the.. nngh." Nosetwitch; she closes her eyes briefly. "I need to sleep."

Brenden turns and shrugs, "I s'pose it is. Yah got yer friend wot's sick. The infirmahry has beasts all sick. Same symptoms in tha infirmahry."

Sivaine blinks. "My friend who's sick?" she asks, not quite comprehending.

Tameus returns! He has a very very very big otter by the hand, doing his best to haul Zade in, which isn't really effective. "C'/mon/.."

Brenden says, "Yah said yah friends ill. I'm s'posin it be why tha bat flew out in such a hurrah."

Dragged in, in the awkward position of being led by the hand by a tiny rabbit-thing, Zade disentangles himself and lifts his brows at Sivaine. "Hmm?"

Sivaine looks up. Her eyes widen slightly and her mouth thins to a line - oh no you /didn't/ just do that, Tam. "Oh. Her, yes," she answers Brenden. "No. That's.. something entirely different; she doesn't live here." Blink blink. A little sigh. "Tam, I'm not sick, I'm /tired./ There's a difference, and it'll be evident after I go to sleep." She moves to leave with a little 'sorry to drag you into this' look at Zade.

"'s what 'm sayin'. 'e hast' tell y' y'r not, 'cause no'n believes /me/ when /I/ says 't!" Tameus mutters.

Brenden turns 'again' to look at Zade and nods, "Aye. That be my fault. I keep hearin bout this sickness, I be a healah, and I don' know anything 'bout it." He glances back to Sivaine with a 'sorry' look on his face.

And Zade steps in front of Sivaine when she tries to go. His large form conveniently blocks her escape route. "Ach, th' one been knockin' beasts over th' las' week 'r so?" he aims at Brenden. "'s gettin' bad, I 'ear. C'mere an' look me righ' in th' face, girly," he tells Sivaine.

"Hh." It's an exasperated sigh, but Sivaine does listen to Zade despite the bad grace. She approaches the otters and tilts her face up with a

Tameus watches, eyeing Zade - expecting him to say what he wants!

Brenden thinks for a moment, then looks at Siv again, "'Ow long yah been awake now?"

Sivaine asks, "Since dawn? Maybe a little before. There was a nap in there somewhere."

The otter... says the opposite. "Hn. Bedres' f' a day. 'm not takin' a chance o' y' catchin' ill, not wit' what's goin' round. Sleep it off, aye?" He glances at Brenden - his look daring the healer to disagree.

Tameus's ears shoot straight up. "'ey! Y'r wron'! Don' tell 'er that!"

Brenden nods for a second before going on, "Ow long do yah stay up this long? It's not good fah yah, yah know." He looks at the otter when he starts giving 'prescriptions'. He takes in a breath, "A little more than needed, but, yah do need tah keep yerself strong." His voice lowers like he's speaking only to himself, "Don' need an epidemic."

Sivaine just.. nods. "Fair enough." There's some resignation in her tone. "Rather stay out of the infirmary. People keep kissing me there," she mutters. Growly. Tam is dealt with first, then Brenden. "This is so I /don't/ get sick, Tam. It doesn't mean I am. ..and I'm training. I usually get an earlier night than this."

"'m 'er trainer," Zade says with a nod at Brenden; at least the hare isn't arguing. "Get t' bed, Siv. Y' earned a res' anyway." He smirks at what she says. "Heh. I don' care if y'r in th' dorm. 'd prefer it, actually. Keep y' 'way from th' sick'ns. But if y' /do/ take ill, that's another matter."

Tameus scowls between the three adults. His ears are pinned back. "Fine. Bu' y' /aren'/ sick. 'm gonn' be /mad/ if y' start sayin' y' 're, Siva."

Brenden speaks up again, this time it was his turn to look at the otter challenging, "Well, all yah trainin needs tah be lessened until this sickness passes or a beast can figuh it out."

"Then I should go to sleep, shouldn't I?" Sivaine eyes the leveret. "For that matter, shouldn't you? You're usually tucked in by now." She glances from Zade to Brenden and grimaces, ever so slightly.

Zade's eyes narrow at Brenden, and he takes a step closer. This is a /big/ otter, folks. "'ow 'bout I call th' shots now, an' y' get t' call 'um if she ends up in th' sickbay, aye?" He responds to Sivaine without looking at her. "Y'r kid woke me."

"Sh' was askin' me," Tam points out.

"Well. If y' were in bed I wouldn' 'ave been woken, aye?" Zade directs down at the leveret.

"I imagine you can tuck yourself in," Sivaine replies to Zade. She gives Brenden a look that's mixed parts warning and asking. Don't start something? Please? "I was. So answer, Tam."

Brenden does indeed look up at the otter, but he was stubborn, and younger. He also narrows his eyes, "Part of me job as a healah fer tha patrol is to prevent injury and sickness, not just fix it when it happens." He seems to want to step up even more, but resigns himself, "But. I'm not a part 'o yah abby." With that the hare turns and starts towards the door muttering something to himself.

Tameus glances at Sivaine, muzzle up, leaning into her a little. "... 'Arper's a-bed. 'e wen' t' lay down, said 'few minutes' an' 'e jus' ... passed ou'. Real tired." He shrugs. "Can' go t' bed wi'out m' lull'by, so's 'm 'wake."

Zade eyes Brenden as he goes, making no response. It's what he's doing, anyway - forcing Sivaine on bedrest to avoid her getting sick. Tada, brilliant. He gruffs at Sivaine. "Put th' brat t' bed an' then get t' bed y'self, girly."

"Starts /out/ as fatigue...trainin hard surely wouldn't increase those chances...oh no...nevah in this world," Brenden rants as he reaches for the doorhandle, "Need tah get back tah tha field. Fightin's simplah."

Sivaine's brow knits; she does not like this news. "Tell you what," she says, moving to take the kid's hand. "I'll take you up and you'll get.. mmh, a story, or my lullaby. It's not yours, but this is a little different since Harper's there." Her eyes flick to Zade. "I'm working on it. Thanks, Private. The concern's appreciated." And that's for Brenden.

"I don' 'ave t' walk y' by th' 'and an' tuck y' in, do I?" Zade asks. "'cause I will."

Tameus curls his fingers around Sivaine's hand, nodding. "Okay. I c'n sleep aft' y' gimme a lull'by 'r story. 's not th' same 's not waitin', righ'?"

Sivaine's eye twitches. The horror. "Ten minutes!" Mumblemutter. She nods to Tam. "No, not the same as waiting. He's right there. Come on, kiddo." So saying, she leads the leveret out of the library.

Tameus wanders off with Sivaine - giving a backward glance at Zade as they leave.

And Zade just smirks.