"Kylia!" K'ven called, walking over. "What in the--" he was cut short when he saw M'iki, now in great pain.
Kylia looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "Don't stand there! Help him!" Trymmie, tell them to help him!
A few riders came forward, and they gently put the boy onto Kuzalth's back, who crooned anxiously. He flew a straight path to the Weyr, the dragons waiting only for their riders to mount. Kylia walked to Trymmeth.
You are hurt, she said mournfully.
"It's nothing compared to what could have happened..." she said quietly.
Next time, tell me immediately when you need help. Trymmeth's eyes whirled in tones of yellow.
"All right, lovey." She mounted. "Can you ask them how M'iki is doing?"
Trymmeth paused as she flew upwards. He is very weak. The dragons are worried. Kylia bit her lip as she thought of the Weyr in her mind. If the dragons were worried, it was bad.
Trymmeth appeared, hovering, over the Weyr Bowl, and flew straight to the Healer's weyr. I knew that you would want to see what is being done, she said smugly.
"Trymmie, of course you'd know." She smiled, briefly, a sad smile, and dismounted.
