05.01.10 - Fighter Who Heals

Location: Halyard tents

Characters Involved: Tameus, Thad

Having only one hand is somewhat limiting when it comes to helping with the various things that need doing in the wake of the hurricane and flood, most of which involve moving chunks of rubble or transferring water out of basements or low-lying areas that still have water. Actually, Tam's hook is a convenient way to carry a bucket, but at the moment he's in one of the tents that have been set up, putting his healing training to use. Fighter-who-heals! He takes after Zoe. He's seated on a chair facing a cot, where a half-grown ferret kid sits with dangling legs, her arm out. Her expression is dubious as Tam uses his hook along with his hand to unwrap her forearm in order to inspect stitches there. "Looks 'bout ready f' them t' come out," he decides.

Thad is neither a fighter nor a healer! He's mostly just a whiner. But his job is as a runner! So that's what he's been doing. He's carrying a quite large pack, and looking quite out of breath as he slows to a halt just outside the tent, then drags the big pack inside. "Healing supplies from the mountain," he announces. "From the feel of it, all of the healing supplies from the mountain..."

Tam looks up and over to Thad, which makes the ferret even more nervous, because he's working her stitches out while glancing away. If he had his sharp hook, he could cut the threads with it! Maybe. But the one Tam wears right now is blunted, so as to not, you know.. accidentally stab anyone, though he's better at maneuvering the replacement limb than he used to be. "Somehow I d'nno if /all'a/ them could fit in a bag that size," he responds. "S' good though, we keep runnin' low on... jus' 'bout everythin'."

Thad huffs, straightening his back with his paws on his lumbar, pop pop pop. "Ahh..." Felt good! "Well if you're ever running out again after this... I can always see if any more herbs have grown, because the gardens are probably stripped bare," mumble... mumble... He finds the closest available spot to sit down - on the ground - and does so, exhaling a deep sigh as he gains control of his breath again.

Tam's focus returns to the stitches, and he neatly finishes cutting and removing them. After another cursory check of the healed injury, he nods. "Good t' go. Jus' be gentle wit' it still." The ferret gets up to leave, and Tam straightens out of his chair, muzzle turning in Thad's direction. "Need somethin' t' drink?"

Thad looks up at Tam like he's a savior. "Please..." Gulp... Pant. "Please. I'd love a drink." He reaches his paw forward like he's about to get up but... No, not now. Say what you will about Thad, but when he gets orders, he hustles like few others.

Tam moves across the tent-room to snag a pitcher and a cup, pouring the latter full of water. "'s not 'xactly cold, but." He heads over to where Thad is hunched on the floor, and crouches, passing the cup into his hand. "What'd y' do, sprint all th' way here?"

Thad reaches over, taking the water gratefully. "Thank you," he practically pants out, gulping down the water in one long tip of his head backwards. When he's done, he just dips his head forward, chin against his chest for a moment before looking up again at Tam. "...Yeah. Major told me to hurry." He shrugs. "So... I sprinted just about as fast as I could."

Walking time from Sala to Halyard is.. a few hours? Tam lifts his brows, his expression maybe borderline impressed for a moment. "Job like y'rs... hope y' like runnin'," he says with a grin.

"I like running. Really do." Total lack of inflection makes it near impossible to analyze that particular remark, but Thad utters it anyway. "Not so much when I'm lugging twice my weight in healing supplies." He's mostly breathing regularly now, though he doesn't look like he'll be getting up from his spot very soon. "Ah, my knees..." He stretches his legs out and rubs at the offending joints. "Feel like going for a swim, but I can't help but think it might be just a little off-color."

Tam's grin widens for a moment. "Well, hey, y' don' need t' trek down t' th' beach anymore. We've got plenty'a swimmin' spots right nearby. Jus' take y'r pick'a basements."

"Heh... Heheh." Thad grins back, laughing about as much as anybeast will see Thad laughing. "Again... Might be off-color. But it's a good idea, it really is. So... Aren't you a fighter? How'd you get stuck on healing duty?"

"Trained f' healin' before I chose t' be a fighter private," Tam explains, head tipping to the side thoughtfully for a moment. "M' dad's a healer, spent most'a his time in th' infirmary at Redwall 'fore he became th' Recorder there. I was.. three seasons?" He snorts. "So I learned from him an' then I met Zoe an' learned from her too. Not much'a a story."

"Ah. Well rounded." Thad smirks. "Making the rest of us one-dimensional hares look bad. I see how it is." The runner pats at his knees and bends and stretches them alternately. "I could probably go my entire life without having to needle a single stitch and I don't think I'd ever complain."

Tam shakes his head. "Don' blame y', some'a th' work's real tedious. But 's good t' know how t' do it. Y' know Mike? He's m' bes' friend, he's th' opposite'a me. Gonna be a healer private, when he gets th' promotion - but he's a healer who fights, like 'm a fighter who heals. An' we take care'a each other real good when we run int' trouble. Always have."

Thad grins. "What a robust team you make. If I do that, I guess I'd better get good at something besides running... Or else I'd leave my poor partner in my dust when I'm fleeing for my life." Thad's shoulders bounce in a chuckle. Oh, his humor!

Tam moves from his crouch to sit on the floor, and tosses his head back in a short laugh. "Hey, we can' /all/ be brave fighters, blood'n vinegar, all that. Some'a us have t' be runnin' scared. Namely.. y'."

The runner rolls his eyes. "Or, alternatively, I could actually be worth something with a saber in my paw." Snort. Like that's gonna happen. "I swear they give us these little... Knife things..." He pulls the dirk out. "Standard issue paw-losers, is all these are."

Tam's gaze drops down to his hook, and he smirks. ".. yeah, I don' use a saber s' much anymore. Though I should show y' m' battle hook, custom make a'course, jus' took a bit t' get used t' usin' th' thing f' fightin'."

"Battle hook?" Thad raises a brow, corner of his muzzle pulling upwards. "I'm already interested..." He sits up a little. "...Ah, I'm sorry, what's your name? I feel like we've met before, but..."

The one-handed buck snorts. "Tam. Tam Sade? We've met now'n then, I think, can' say I know y'r name either, though." He cracks a grin at the other private. "'ve got 'bout a half-dozen attachments f' this thing, an' m' battle hook's one'a them."

Thad nods. "Tam. Yeah, sounds... Familiar, I think. Oh, you were the one that went missing. Ohhh, the hook... Right. Makes sense now." Heheh. "I'm Thad. Just... Don't worry about the rest, just call me Thad."

Tam shifts how he's sitting to extend his hand to the other buck. "Well how-do-y'-do then, Thad," he replies with a chuckle. "Yeah, that's how I los' it. Bit a' a bad run-in wit' some rats."

"Well at least you made it out with your life." Hm. Thad straightens up a little, then slumps. "Did they? I mean, I'm guessing not, since... Well. The Patrol doesn't have a very good live prisoners record as of late."

"No." Tam shakes his head, looking to the side with a brief expression of annoyance. "I was knocked out, m' hand got stabbed through. A girl in Halyard took me t' her place, looked after me - an' th' hand went bad, y' know? So she had t' cut it off, saved m' life doin' it."

"And now you have a battle hook." Always look on the bright side! Or... something. Thad shrugs. "Hey, at the very least it's a story, right? Don't know many other beasts like that, myself."

"One'a many. Though I think most'a my adventures /really/ happened when I was a kid," Tam says with a proud sort of smile. "Campfire stories or somethin'. Lil' bit'a a legacy t' pass on t' m' kid."