Day 011: Doctor Knows Best
Summary: The med-techs head into Coesbur in hopes of healing the sick Grounders.
Date: 17 May 2016
Related: Various
Oxfor Silver Morgan Cameron Frankie Martin Niner Cassandra Asher Fiona Wren Afaye Tuan Grounders 

Various Rooms, The Seat, Coesbur
11 Days After Landing

<FS3> Asher rolls Riding: Failure.
<FS3> Morgan rolls Riding: Good Success.
<FS3> Frankie rolls Riding: Success.

It is a cloudy spring day, but at least it's not raining. Leaving after a light breakfast, the group makes the trip without delay or problems (besides Steak and New Boots wandering off a time or two). As the group collected, however, they did get a bit of a dark look from Oxfor when the numbers coming out the gate just continued to pile up. The big man shakes his head, snorting with amusement, "I see you plan to match my appetite through numbers."

A good while later, as they ride over the bridge into Coesbur, they are met by a collection of armed and armored Grounder warriors, and a metal cage-like basket has been placed before the entrance to the village. Oxfor rumbles, "You can put your weapons there before you enter the village. The horses," Asher gets a glance there, "can be returned to the stables."

Morgan let Oxfor know that there's a reason for their numbers; it might be necessary that blood transfusion be made and only so much can be taken from a single person. He's happy to explain why he that might be a possibility and how he would go about it if asked. Especially since he'll probably need to see what supplies the village has available. Aside form answering any questions Oxfor has, if any, he's happy to ride in silence and seems to enjoy it too, petting the horses neck for much of the trip.

Cameron's all for peace with the grounders, but he adamantly is not about showing up and baring his throat. So it is with his recently acquired grounder armor, and his grounder sword hung from the makeshift sling, and his 'knife' tucked into his belt, that he pads along the horses, trying to keep up and at Morgan's side. Even if the horse isn't going that fast, it takes some effort. Fortunately, he's in pretty good shape. He's also *clean*, like, clean in a way he hasn't been since the Landing. His hair is on point, his light complexion nearly spotless, and he seems downright cheerful. The only sign that he's on guard is how actively his eyes flick around and keep track of where everyone is and what's going on around him. He eyes the basket, and then eyes Niner, "Man, if you hadn't insisted on him disarming, we'd have a leg to stand on here in keeping our weapons…" And so reluctantly he heads over towards the basket. He does glance over to Oxfor, "May I keep my knife? Its more a tool then a weapon."

One of those warriors waiting for the group happens to Wren, otherwise known as The Big Guy to anyone else who may of seen him. And he's now certainly no longer restrained, aquired a second long-coat and looking just as disheveled and stone-faced. Slung over his shoulder is longer the sword he had the last time, but instead a rather large double bladed axe, big enough to fit someone of his particular size. And like the other men, he's waiting for the Delinquents to drop their weapons. "Our fearless leader returns." he notes in his native tougne to Oxfor. "Good to see you alive. You've…" he pauses, taking in a visual headcount of those with him. "…brought back many." there's a hint of humor in his voice at the last part.

Morgan looks from the basket to Oxfor and then nods, putting his sword in it.

When Silver was offered a chance to ride, she very politely declined. Which is to say, she managed to mostly conceal her terror as she backed away from it and said that was quite all right, someone else was welcome to give it a try and the walk would do her good. By the time they get to Coesbur, she may be rethinking that plan, sweaty and tired, but at least she hasn't fallen and broken anything. She has no weapons to surrender, but is willing to submit the bag she carries to a search. There isn't much in it - a few makeshift medical supplies and not much more.

Martin has decided to follow along since he can supposedly talk well to people, and they might need help in that department if the medical situation gets out of hand. It' a bit of the hike and by the end of it, he very likely is a bit sweaty and somewhat tired. When the baske tis shown, he is among the first to remove his spear from the spot on his back that he ties it and leaves it behind.

The village has been given advanced notice of the arrival of the Skaikru contingent, although titters emanate throughout when the number of visitors is passed along. Afaye ignores the chatter as she cuts a swathe through the curious Trikru gathered to witness this monumental occasion. Her place is first and foremost at the stables, ready to receive the community mounts and have her hands see to their care. Thus she is standing out front with her arms crossed over her chest and a calm, if unreadable, expression on her face. To those who may be more familiar with her moods, this is her stern face; she was not in approval of this gathering.

Cameron's comment earns a snorting eye-roll from Niner as he unbuckles his belt and slides off the Grounder sword and sheath. "You want to roll over like a whipped bitch, man, you be my guest. I don't bend myself over a barrel for anyone." He steps up to the weapons basket, and tosses in the sheathed sword, then steps back to rebuckle his belt.

<FS3> Niner rolls Stealth+3: Good Success.

Fiona enjoyed riding previously very much (PONIES!) but since she's more of a tagalong on this adventure, and the healers deserve as much rest as possible on their way to what is likely going to be hard work. But she's not useless; she's here to learn about Trikru culture and language, and as she's smart enough to follow instructions, help their medics as an extra set of hands. On the way to Coesbur she had questions for Oxfor, but only in so much as to ask about a few more phrases in the local dialect.

Well considering the state of her leg, riding was the best option for Frankie, so riding she is..she really is. Which is just as amazing to her as everyone else. She really wishes someone would have warned her that it hurts though. Especially if you have never ridden before. It is a little less work getting off the horse than on, so she manages to do that without faceplanting, but it is a near thing. Still holding onto the saddle though she pulls out her own poor excuse for a knife and into the basket it goes.

It's only been five days since Cassandra started walking around camp with a machete at her hip, but already she feels naked without it. The confident swagger it's put in her step isn't entirely gone, but here her proud posture is as much to reassure herself as it is to intimidate others, a talent she's honed rather well for so scrawny a Farm Station raised girl. Nonetheless, peace is a serious consideration for her, and so she arrives at the Gates of Coesbur with the others without a sword, nor any Grounder-made gear or even weapons of any kind. She knows it would make little difference, either way, were she forced to use any. Poor Asher, though — she was among those to openly voice her quiet disapproval for his choice to bring Steak and New Boots with him, advising he'd be better off leaving the beast behind, along with his Grounder-made arsenal, but knows better than to push it. So when he gets that look from Oxfor, and it's implied he's about to lose the creature he's grown so fond of, she cannot help but send him an amused little 'told you so' smirk, or maybe it's a 'karma' smirk for refusing a very bad deal to trade the oversized pony for his own knife. Nonetheless, even Schadenfreude at her fellow's expense cannot currently steal her attention from the sight of Wren, Afaye and other human beings of a like she's never seen before, when they make themselves known. Stepping forward to greet them, she offers a small bow of her head, of the like she'd read as being a cultural norm in some parts of this bygone world. A mark of respect; and verbally, she says with deepest sincerity, "Thank you for welcoming us to your village." Whoa. Who is she, and what's she done with Cassandra?

The comment about their numbers earns a roll of Asher's eyes. He was against this many of them coming, up until they left. During the ride, Asher had a hard time, whether it was due to his injured leg bothering him or just lack of experience, he didn't have an easy way of it. When they approach and are told where to deposit their weapons, Asher eyes Niner as well, "Good job." he states flatly. And then there's the horses, "First off, this is my horse now. Secondly, if I left it here, I wouldn't be able to get back on this leg." Even as he says this, he pulls his axe free and his sword. His visible knife is also pulled out and he moves to the basket, setting his weapons in it, still holding the lead to the horse.

Oxfor lumbers out of the saddle of his grey clydesdale, landing hard on the ground. He casts a dubious glance to Cameron at the request for his knife. "We have bladed tools if you require." Then he grunts, relenting only slightly. "One knife… between you all." Then he casts a glance toward Wren, and snorts as he steps forward. He slips into Tregedasleng when he responds, "They are like like a school of fish… unable to really thrive without the group." He grins broadly, and then turns his gaze to Asher, waving offhandedly. "Afaye will be sure your horse is cared for and ready for your departure." Then he starts forward, gesturing the group to follow as he heads toward the brown, octagon-shaped building of The Seat.

"Uh, what?" Cameron blinks at Niner, his head tilting to the side. His sword is slid into the basket, and when Oxfor says one between them all, he shrugs and deposits his knife in the basket, then pads lightly over to stand by Morgan.

Silver casts a brief look toward the more confrontational members of the party, slipping her bag back over her shoulder as she falls into step with the others. She looks around curiously as she walks, watching mostly the people rather than the architecture, though she's trying to take in the general level of technology as well. But it's clear from the way she moves that she's here on business. There's healing to be seen to, and she's more interested in that than in picking fights or anything else.

Morgan gives the horse one last pat on the neck before moving to follow after Oxfor. He looks around curiously at his first view of the Grounder village. Naturally, the old pre-apocalypse building is fascinating.

Wren watches with a wary eye as each teen drops their weapon(or weapons)into the waiting continer, adjusting the axe on his shoulder every now and again. "I was going to say frightened mice, scattering at the first sound of danger, but that works just as well." he remarks in the same language. For a moment, he puts out a hand to Silver when she offers up her bag, the large man bending over to inspect it, then simply giving a nod that it's fine to keep with her, seeing nothing that would border on a weapon within it. A glance at Asher's horses. "We letting them keep those?" he asks of their chieftan. "You can handle Afaye, in that case."

Who the hell is that, and what the hell did she do with Cassandra? The last time Niner heard Cassandra talking, he was pretty sure she was promising to pull Cameron's entrails out with a tiny fork, with bloody murder in her voice. He looks over at her, brows furrowed with suspicion, before he starts turning a slow circle to take in their surroundings. Tense shoulders squirm and roll, and he lifts both arms to slide in under his jacket and squeeze at his deltoids as he follows Oxfor toward the Seat.

Now that she is off the horse and her knife is in the basket, Frankie is doing a lot of staring. At everyone and everything, her own makeshift pack bouncing against her leg as she hobbles on her two crutches with the rest of her group. "Oh wow." she says mostly to herself, in awe of the size of the village and all the people that are in it.

As if her name were a prompt, Afaye steps forward, edging between two groups of villagers with two stableboys in tow. She and one boy reach up to gather the reins of the four mounts, while the third begins methodically unloading the gear from the fourth before the horses are taken back to the stables. She levels a silent stare at Asher before holding out a hand, clearly waiting for him to deposit the lead into her care. "One. Not more than that. I won't stand for it." Her voice is deep, perhaps surprisingly so given her size, but the tone is vehement. Her gaze flicks to Asher a second time, and she arches an eyebrow in wordless inquiry.

The hides are pulled around himself more tightly as Tuan struggles from the bed. The noise and shuffling of the village could only mean one thing, pestilence has arrived. Struggling himself up, he leaves the sick house with small but steady steps to emerge into the spring air. The Grounder keeps those hides tightly about him as he shivers and fights a cough.

A nod is given by Asher to Oxfor. He stood his ground, that was his intent here. "Thank you." he offers and then looks around to the rest of his group. "Alright…Let's not waste a bunch of time. On to the sick people." His attention then shifts to Afaye, taking the horses. He arches a brow at her tone and narrows his eyes at her. His gaze flicks to Steak and New Boots and then back again, pointing at his horse, "That one's mine." he says firmly. Just to be clear about everything. He doesn't want to get back some other horse that he will have to call Burger and New Slippers. That would be weird.

Martin eyes Cassandra with a quirk of his eyebrow, that can likely be read as 'What are you playing at?' Then again maybe he should be happy she isn't trying to gouge out their eyes or something. He smiles and nods to Frankie's comment about the village, "I'm not sure what I was expecting really. It both looks like I thought it would be and not." Then Fiona earns a look to make sure the other member of FML is doing alright.

Cameron looks from Grounder to Grounder, his expression openly curious, but for the moment he's keeping quiet and just being thoughtfully on hand.

Oxfor seems to be amused, like watching how two unknown qualities interact in an on-going experiment. He waits, patiently, for the exchange to happen between the Skaikru and Trikru, and then continues his deliberate steps toward the Seat. "Good," is all he says as he steps into the wide, open doors of the former Leesburg City Hall — now known only as The Seat. When he spots Tuan, he fixes the young man with a steady, but stern, "Yu ge bak in der." And he starts to shoo the boy back up the steps with his massive arms, almost like one might try to herd a cat back.

Fiona offers a brief smile and a nod to Martin. She's okay. There's a faint grin for Frankie before looking, of all people, to Morgan. "The sick house is this way." she indicates the very direction that Tuan emerged from, and Oxfor is herding him back to. "If you want to get started, I can get everyone's things settled." She suspects this won't be solved in an evening.

"Is anything really yours?" Afaye inquires rheotircally of Asher, and for a moment her expression breaks to reveal a faint, cheeky smile. Grounders got jokes, yo. Her fingers close around the lead, and she clucks her tongue to the horses. The animals bump about a bit as they respond to the sound, and with the help of the boys she leads all four mounts off toward the stables to be cared for. She appears to be taking direct care of Steak and New Boots herself, shooing away the creeping hands of the boy on her right as he reaches up to take the animal's lead from her. She barks something in her native tongue which sends the help scrambling to ready the stables.

Cassandra has no idea what the Trikru are saying among themselves in Trigedasleng, which is why she finds it so fascinating. So while Wren and the others passively insult her, she stares on with muted wonder as if they're waxing Shakespearean poetry; for all she knows, they are. She casts a sidelong glance Asher's way when she catches how quickly he's making friends here, and soon decides that meatshield is not the ideal asset for this expedition; putting some distance between her and anyone who seems to be building less than positive terms with the Grounders, she opts to find company instead closest to Fiona. "Ai laik Cassandra kom Skaikru," she turns to say to Wren with a demure smile — yes, a smile, the plot thickens — and she even manages to do all this without poking a fork into Cameron's entrails, or even pretending to understand why Martin is looking at her like she's anything less than a glowing ball of sunshine at all times.

Silver hesitates for a moment when she sees Tuan, taking half a step in that direction before it's clear that the first stop is meant to be the Seat. "I get the feeling someone wants to chat first, Fi," she says quietly, though her fingers twitch at her bag as she looks at the sick Grounder. Things to fix. People to fix. Two years in the box with nothing useful to do. She can wait just a few more minutes. Probably.

Wren walks along on the outside of the main group, holding his axe on the left side of his body, which would, if one is of the combat-mind, allow him the fastest angle of strike should he really have to do that. And that axe is really big, it's a wonder why he didn't bring it the last time he encountered the Sky People. A look from Afaye to the horses she's glowering at. "You're so nice to even give them one. Just so long as it's not my Roach." he comments at the horsemaster, tone a combination of amused and dry. When Cassandra tries to get his attention, he'll listen to her attempt at his language. Something that would be called a grin spreads across his face, wolfish. "Antiestablishmentarianism. When you can say that in my langauge, then I'll be impressed." It's not said unkindly. He might even think it cute that they're already trying.

Frankie has a hard time looking away from all the new things to check out, but she manages to give Martin at least a glance when he talks to her "This isn't at all what I was expecting." and she is having to white knuckle her grip on her crutches just to keep her hands to herself. The last thing she wants to do is accidently insult thier hosts by touching something that could be sacred. And then they are in front of the building where the sick people are supposed to be housed. She looks suitably impressed at Wren "Most people can't even say that in our own language." she supplies for the large Grounder strangely named for a small bird.

Morgan nods to Fiona. "I want to get a look at them, yes. See what we're dealing with. A description of symptoms only goes so far. But I think Silver's right. We have a stop to make first. We'll also need to talk to their doctors about what medicine and equipment is available." But first things first. He looks to Oxfor to follow his lead and head inside.

Martin gets closer to Fiona and Cassandra and asks quietly of Fiona wth a smirk, "Do you know how to say 'You should watch this one'?" as he looks at Cassandra. He backs away then to let Cassandra do her thing. If she wants to take the lead on charming the natives, he'll focus on the sights and sounds of the village. He watches Ayafe care for the horses for a moment, before looking to the sick tent then The Seat. Wren earns his focus suddenly with the use of such a big word. "I don't think I can say that in /my/ language." He clears his throat then and tries out what he learned, "Ai laik Martin kom Skaikru."

Tuan looks at Oxfor for a few moments, his hide blankets pulled tight as he just smirks softly. "I am not that weak to stand if I am needed." Then he turns and makes his way back into the sick house while everyone else moves to the Hall.

Cam is just tagging along for the moment, and follows Morgan along in.

A beat pause and Asher replies, "It would seem your chief thinks so." And he offers a smirk with that and a chin jut by way of nod towards The Seat, "We good now? Can I go in?" At least he's asking permission before actually going in. He doesn't actually wait for a response though from Afaye, as he moves off towards the entrance.

Fiona laughs softly at Martin. "I'm nowhere close to knowing something like that." she says, and moves to head into the Seat herself. "Hello, Wren." she greets, with a perhaps surprising shyness. "I'm glad you're alright. How's Gideon? She looked like she might have gotten sick when we left."

"So is this…" Niner's words trail off as he looks up toward the vaulted ceiling. His steps start slowing down, boots dragging against the floor. "Cool," he mumbles. He pulls his attention back and tries his question again. "Is this where…" Do Grounders even /have/ politics? Maybe they just arm-wrestle until someone's arm gets pulled off, or have some kind of heart-eating contest. At a loss where to start his question, he attempts a third version: "What's this place for?"

Cassandra doesn't seem scared of Wren's enormous axe, nor put off by his wolf-like grin and banter. Tender-hearted as she is, maybe she's used to having to kill 'em with kindness. "How do you say antidisestabishmentarianism in your language?" she asks the Grounder without a trace of sarcasm, edging curiously closer by his side. Being found 'cute' is something she's just fine with, and she talks to him with small but animated hand-gestures. Martin's continued suspicion only earns a look of confusion from her — apparently she's a method actress.

Silver glances to Wren when he breaks out the big vocabulary, a faint smile quirking, though it's Fiona's question that earns a closer look. And a surprised arch of her brow. Is that one of the Grounders they captured? How did that work? Did someone manage to bring a gun or a shock stick? Shaking her head, she looks back to the building, following the others inside with restless purpose.

"Fiona of the Sky People." Wren replies cordially enough. "My wrists still ache, but I'm certain I will one day it'll pass." Oh no, he's not going to let anyone forget he was strapped to a wall for a couple days, even if he pokes fun at that very thing. "Gideon is Gideon. It's easier to grab mist than it is trying to gauge her mood. Just ask your Grey how well that worked out for him." he grunts. The next question by Cassandra, he looks at her. "Considering your people's recent exploits, I'd figure you'd know a good joke when you heard one." he remarks off-handedly to no one in particualr, then sighing. "Antiestablishmentarianism." And yes, it sound a lot longer than the english version. To the point where he almost as to think about syllables. Regarding how he was captured, one might just want to caulk up to 'lucky shot'.

Cameron can't help it, he stops following Morgan for a moment, and stares openly at Cassandra, his mouth hanging a bit, all like: … There's a blink and a shake of his head, and bewildered expression, before he just rubs his face and gives up trying to understand her. He's back to following Morgan then.

Oxfor enters behind the rest, and his massive frame cuts a sprawling shadow as he steps inside. Niner's question earns a short glance from him, and he explains with a gesture. "A hall for village business, and where judgement is cast." He rumbles this as he steps forward, skirting around the emblem on the floor as if there's some kind of invisible 'do not step here' sign. He seems very proud of his hall, pausing to put his hands on his hips to stare at the stained glass. Then he turns to the others, and gestures. "Your healers will find our sick down that hall. Keta is waiting for you." Keta being one of the village healers, of course. "And I will wait here." He crosses his arms, nodding to Wren and Afaye that they are welcome to follow after, perhaps to keep an eye on the visitors.

"Great." Silver looks visibly relieved at being released to deal with the sick people, starting directly down the indicated hall without waiting to see if anyone else is going in that direction. She's already pulling out a rag and a makeshift water container to wet the rag as she walks. Crazy sky person, in a hurry to see sick people.

Cassandra's weirdness is noted, but she isn't punching anyone so Frankie isn't going to jinx it by saying anything, much like everyone else. And besides they have a job to do and despite her interest in her surroundings and the Trikru people she focuses on that, for the moment. Though she like the rest will be satisfying her curiousty later. When the proper direction to the ill is pointed out she hurries off after Silver, as fast as her crutches will take her.

The guilt that's been eating away at Cassandra for having killed two of Wren's people means she was not among those to visit him while he was strapped to a wall for a couple days. He will not have seen her since the battlefield, if he even remembers the wild, incompetent creature she was upon it, and she remains determined to milk this potentially-first impression for all it's worth. "Anti-dis-establish-men-tarianism," she tries to repeat in Trigedasleng, following his example. Her second try goes smoother than the first, and the third is whispered; aside from being an incorrigible bitch, a seldom-known fact about her is that she's also a fast learner. She didn't, contrary to popular belief, get by in Earth Skills on manipulation alone. But with this first, somewhat useless lesson over, she offers the man another flirtatious smile, then turns towards the Seat where the sick are waiting. She makes it clear that she means business here, and approaches Silver while rolling up her sleeves. "Tell me what you need, where you need it, and I'll get right to it."

The stained glass is very impressive and Morgan spends a few moments just looking at it as the others walk in. Even beyond the building itself, it's a reminder of a different era when they had time for things solely for the sake of beauty. When the sick are mentioned though, he nods and turns to follow Silver. "Right. Cam get whatever willow bark they have and boil it extra strong. It'll need time to steep then cool. Frankie, find out about bird bones and if there are any watertight bags of some sort that can be sterilized. Fi, boil a couple extra sharp but small knives. Also, some of that tubing Frankie bought. We'll be back."

Wren, for his part, nods at Oxfor. "I get sick and I will be…so annoyed." he points out idly, starting to move around, but giving Cass a vague nod. "Nice try." offers. But somebody does need to keep an eye on Skaikru while they're doing…whatever it is that they're going to do. Might as well be the big guy with the equally big axe. So he'll trunge off after the teens, likely going to play one big surly babysitter.

This is what she lives for: babysitting duties. Afaye lags behind the rest, having stopped at the stables for a moment before sweeping into the hall. Her gaze flicks up briefly to the stained glass, following the line of sight of the newcomers as they ogle the surroundings. The scenery is not new to her, so her attention is brief as she, too, skirts around the emblem in the floor and up toward Oxfor. She watches in momentary silence as the Skaikru spreads out and wanders toward the healers' area. "His horse had a rock. Was it limping? If he's keeping the animal, I want a day or two to train him in proper care. I'll not let him walk out without knowing what he's doing." She searches the gathering for Asher, and spotting his back she lifts her chin in his direction by way of explanation for her companion.
You paged Silver with 'So here's what Li would share with Silver: It sounds like a type of viral pneumonia that all Arkers are innoculated for, and have become immune to, but they still carry the virus. It causes pleural effusion, which will require draining the space between the chest wall and the lungs so that those infected can breathe. Fevers have to be kept under control, but like all viruses, it just has to be worked out of one's system. Risks of infection are possible.'

Niner's attention flicks back and forth between Fiona and Wren, tracking the banter as it progresses. His mouth curls a little, as if he was tasting something sour, and he looks away, watching Oxfor instead as he explains the use of the building. When Silver takes off toward the sick Grounders, his eyes widen a little and he hurries after her, trying to catch up. "Fuck. Silver. WAIT, let one of us check-" Just what could he do by himself if there /was/ an ambush waiting, anyway? It doesn't stop him from trying.

Cameron inclines his head quickly and immediately goes to work at Morgan's word, and moves over to the nearest grounder— Afaye. He smiles quick and easy, his dimples showing, "Al leek Cameron Scott come skaikru." he begins, not at all getting it right, "Where do you keep your medicinal supplies? Morgan come skaikru— one of our doctors— needs the bark of the willow tree, and the means to boil it. Please?"

Martin watches Silver and Frankie head off down the hall, then looks to Morgan as he starts issuing directives. He waits quietly for a bit as people get assigned tasks. Then when he is left without orders, he shrugs and decides to see if any of those with jobs might need help. "Anyone need a hand?"

Silver stops just outside the door as the others follow, blocking the way. "Stop," she says firmly to Niner. "I talked to the Ark. From what we can tell, this is probably viral. So guys, do us all a favor and try not to swap bodily fluids with anyone, all right? Hands get washed when you come into this room, they get washed before you come out." She wraps the rag over her hair, shrugging out of her jacket and leaving it at the door before she goes inside. "Can someone take some baseline data down?" she asks, moving toward the first bed. "Let's get some pulse, respiration, and a rough temperature."

Oh orders, Frankie can do orders. At least in this case, when there are things at stake "On it." she tells Morgan "Could you unpack my still and get the tubing Fi needs?" she tells Martin since he is asking unless someone beats her to giving him something to do. She will then head over to Wren since Cam is getting Afaye to help him "Hi." she greets "Ath laik Frankie kom Skaikru. Where could I find birdbones and waterproof bags or skins….please."

Niner gets added to the small mental list of 'people Cassandra pretends to not presently be associated with'. Not that they were on the best of terms last they spoke; she doesn't sneer at him now, but in terms of physical space, she makes a point for the Grounders that they aren't close friends and have little to talk about. "No bodily fluids?" Well, with Silver's remark, she cannot help but flash a small, humoured smirk that's a little more herself while she looks pointedly over her shoulder at the nearby Grounder warriors who aren't sick and gross-looking. She turns to one of them, Afaye, and attempts to engage her in conversation much as she did Wren. "Could you tell me what sort of medicinal herbs and poultices you've been using to treat the sick so far?" she asks. "It would be important for us to know before we try anything else. Especially if any were effective or had adverse effects? Our ways are different, but together, we can make the best of both." She speaks slowly and clearly, in case the woman does not understand English, and gesticulates freely.

Niner, being taller than Silver, abuses those extra inches like a right shit. He cranes up and looks over and past her, into the room where the sick Grounders are, while she's trying to be sensible, then flicks pale eyes back down to her. "Fine," he grumps, as sullenly as a boy told he can't have ice cream. Sweet, virus-laden ice cream. "Then I'm staying here." He looks back toward the others still in the Seat, starts to fold his arms across his chest, then stops with a wince.

All these women talking to Wren is eventually going to freak him right the hell out. Now Frankie is addressing him as he about to go play guard. There's a blink at her. "Speak with one of the craftsman outside." he states simply. "I'm not craftman. But be mindful of how you ask. They may not be willing to readily part with such things." That all said, he snorts, continuing on his way to what they've set up as an infirmary. "<In Trigedasleng> They ask too many damn questions." the large man mutters irritably.

Martin now has orders as well. Hooray! He is useful! He heads out of the hall back to the equipment and gathers it all up to carry inside. Once in the hall again, he hands a bunch of the tubing to Fiona, so she can sanitize it. He then head sover to an out-of-the-way corner to begin unpacking the still as carefully as possible. Frankie would kill him if he breaks something, afterall.

Inside the makeshift infirmary, there are about thirty or so people, resting in rows of makeshift cots. Some are sleeping, elevated on blankets to help ease their breathing, while others are awake and talking in low, tired voices to each other. A tall and rightly magnificent black woman dressed in a long vest of simple cotton-like material over an ensemble of canvas pants and a weathered long-sleeve shirt is moving around carefully, leaning over to speak softly to those bringing water and hot broth to the sick. Her hair is thick tendrils of dreadlocks, and grey is combed throughout the dark hair, signifying her far older than the kids clamoring at the door. She looks up at the ruckus, and her midnight eyes narrow. She steps forward, snapping sharply, "Shh!" And she puts her finger to her lip, because apparently the signal to silence one's self has not changed in a century of time.

Asher isn't here to doctor people, he's just here in case this gets ugly. Of course, without weapons, he's a bit limited on that injured leg. Sure, it's better than it was. His limp is barely an issue over short measured steps. Any quick movements or long distance walking and he'd be in a mess of pain. So his moves slowly and keeps to the back of the group. He makes no attempt to speak the Grounder language, either to avoid butchering it, or just to be stubborn. He'll let the others be pleasant. He's just going to be there. The nod from Afaye is caught and Asher offers a quick grin in her direction.

Even if she wanted to, Afaye is unable to wait for Oxfor's reply. She will have to take it on faith that she has permission to wrangle a visitor for training. Her attention shifts first to Cameron and then to Cassandra, both of whom are lobbing questions at her. She offers the former a smile at his attempt at her language, mangled though it may be; it is a start. "I do not heal the people. I work with the horses. My herbs are not their herbs, not always. Come along, Cam'run kom Skaikru and girl, and the healers will answer your questions better." She gestures for both of them to precede her, pointing with a finger down the hallway where everyone is slowly filtering out. She returns Asher's grin as she continues to flap her hands and urge the others toward the sickroom.

It might not be something that is taught all that frequently on the Ark, but common sense says to be polite to the person carrying a weapon that can cut you in two. And Frankie has enough common sense to do so "I will do that, thank you." she gives a glance out the door and then heads back out to go find a craftsperson to get what is needed..hopefully one that speaks her language, or else this is going to take awhile.

Silver shoots a sympathetic look toward the woman who shushes them. Yes. To have the power to shush the crowd of delinquents would be a beautiful thing. But. Not hers. Staying quiet, she splashes some water over her hands, cleaning them as best she can before approaching the woman. "Hi," she says softly once she's close enough not to need to raise her voice. "I'm Silver. This is Morgan," she indicates the other young person already giving orders. "We're healers, and we're here to help as much as we can."

With another flash of a smile, Cameron inclines his head, "Thank you." he says, and then heads off the direction Afaye indicates. He does shoot a slightly dark look Cassandra's way, for some reason, but away he goes.

Once Morgan steps into the infirmary, he pauses to look around and take count of the sick. Also of those helping the sick and how they interact with them. "Face masks of some sort." he says quietly to Silver, not needing to be told to talk softly as they walk over to the woman. "Pleased to meet you. Are you the primary healer in the village?"

Fiona seems easily enough inclined to do as told, though she's a bit at a loss to where to acquire the knives. So she'll inquire to one of the Trikru healers, other than the one who Morgan and Silver are talking to, so as not to disturb them.

"Alaik Cassandra kom Skaikru," the skygirl offers Afaye, a touch more confidently than when she first uttered the phrase for Wren. But she takes the lead as indicated towards the sick hall, her eyes trailing the resplendent ceiling beams and the inscribed Roman statue. Cameron's look briefly gets a raise of her eyebrows, as if she's reading the dark look as an in-joke. He, apparently, is not on her list of menacing people to pretend she isn't friends with.

Wren holds up a hand for Silver, stepping forward. "<In Trigedasleng> Keta, these are the skaikru that have come to…" A look is given to both Silver and Morgan, then looking back at the Trikru healer, "<In Trigedasleng> …assist." he ends with. "She is in charge in this infirmary. I would suggest you respect her wishes with whatever you plan on doing." is the advice grunted out by the big dude. "I'm only here to make sure neither of you, well, bluntly put, get into trouble." A pat of the axe handle. "I'm in a good mood but I have a feeling that neither of you are in a mood to change that."

So, if Niner's keeping an eye on the Delinquents in the makeshift infirmary, and Asher's got his eye on those in the Seat, that leaves Frankie over yonder, about to go /outside/, /into a village full of Grounders/, /on crutches/, /alone/. He stiffens like someone was pulling on his spine with a puppeteer's thread, eyes alert and very unhappy as he watches her go. He looks back into the infirmary, watching Wren address the medics with almost palpable mistrust.

Keta fixes Silver and Morgan with suspicious, but curious looks. She gestures to herself, "Keta kom Trikru." Then she nods sternly in reply to their question, her long and slender arms crossing at her chest. "I am," she says, her English a low and soft series of contralto syllables. She glances at the others, and then back to Silver and Morgan. "I not speak the gonasleng well. Be slow." She then regards Afaye and Wren who are just within her sight. "<In Trigedasleng> If they are going to make a fuss, please take them out. If they are going to help, then make them help. I have sick to feed, care to give… no one stands useless in my heal house."

"<In Trigedasleng> A straggler," Afaye announces mostly to herself, sighing quietly as she watches for a moment as Frankie wanders toward the exit rather than down the hall. Since it is her current duty, she steps off the dais and around the center of the room before her longer strides catch her up to the hobbling Skaikru girl. "The healers are that way," she announces to Frankie, reaching out to grab the handle of the main door. Rather than block the exit, however, she heaves it open wide enough so that they both may pass. "Are you looking for something?"

"Thank you," Silver smiles faintly to Wren. "But if you're going to be in here, you should…" She pauses, brows furrowing in a faint frown as she looks to Morgan. "Actually…on second thought, you're probably immune, if you spent time around us and you haven't come down with it. But other people should cover their nose and mouth here. And you should wash your hands," she adds firmly. Never mind that he's a foot taller than she is and twice her size. "You might not be sick, but you could infect someone else when you leave here." She looks back to Keta, and there's something unusual in her eyes when she does. A hunger. There's knowledge here, and she yearns for it. It's just a question of how much time she has for it in between trying to treat. "Can you tell us how you've been treating this so far?"

There isn't likely a need for guards further in the establishment. If they were going to attack, it'd happen already. Asher eyes Silver and Morgan a moment, limping off towards them, "You guys need me in there with you?" It's less about protection and more about figuring out what exactly he's going to do here. And then there's Frankie, moving off on her own. He arches an eyebrow, "Or maybe one of us should go with her?" Where exactly she is going, he has no idea.

"I'm impressed. Really I am. So with that understanding, just please translate as needed." Morgan tells Wren before smiling at Keta. "Slow it is." Not just slow but extra clear. "Yes, always with soap after touching each patient. If this is standard practice already, please don't take offense. We don't know how much knowledge was lost since the war."

"Don't thank me yet." Wren points out. "You still have a great deal to prove being here." he reminds simply. Looking over at Keta, it looks like it's going to be him that's going to do the translating since she's not really as well versed in english as he is. "Basically, she said help or get out. She doesn't have time for…absent hands. If you're in here, you're helping. If you're not, you're in the way. Simple, yes?" Going back to Keta, he shrugs. "<In Trigedasleng> They say I'm immune since I was held in their camp. Makes sense. What do you want me to tell them?"

'Alaik Cassandra kom Skaikru' fast becomes the disreputable sky girl's favourite new phrase. She offers it with a glowing smile to every new Grounder she meets in the sick-bay, sometimes mixing it up a little by calling herself 'Cass' or 'Cassie' — but never 'Boner'. Just as Silver requested, she washes her hands at the door in a nearby basin, and then gets to collecting that baseline data: pulse, respiration and a rough temperature. A doctor she is not, but basic data gathering? From a long and proud line of astronauts who successfully joined twelve space-stations that were still in space to form the majesty that is the Ark, she was practically born for this, even if without proper equipment, it'll still be somewhat sloppy. "Is there anything nearby I could write with?" she asks a clammy Grounder whose pulse she's taking.

As Afaye ushers Cameron into the sick room, he looks around listens, and since Keta appears to be the healer, but instead of bothering her since she's talking to the the medtechs, he looks for one of the Seconds. He approaches a likely candidate, "Al leek Cameron Scott come skaikru." he repeats a bit lamely, though he does dimple with a smile, "Are you one of the healers? I'm looking for your medicinal supplies. I need bark of the willow tree and something to boil it in…" Of course he's just assuming the not-obviously-sick grounders are gonna be healers.

Keta folds her hands together, and speaks in her broken gonasleng, "We control fevers with cooling cloth. Teas and broths given." Then she sighs, slipping into her more comfortable tongue for Afaye or Wren to translate. "<In Trigedasleng> We cannot get their fevers down, and their breathing has not improved very much despite the lobelia flower." She then gestures Silver over, gently taking the girl by her shoulder. "Put ear to chest," she says, pointing to a young boy who is mostly asleep, elevated on some blankets, and breathing in deep, hoarse breaths. A keen ear can almost hear how the lungs cannot quite fill, and his inhales are shallow.

Getting out of the way and picking a good piece of stone wall to lean up against, Wren sets his axe next to him, the points of it making a metallic 'clink' against the ground. "She says they can't get their fevers down and their breathing hasn't been all that good." he translates simply. "And we've been using the lobelia flower." Something causes him to pause. "<In Trigedasleng> Show them the flower we use. They may have another name for it." he notes to Keta.

Silver follows Keta to the boy, leaning in to listen to the lungs and glancing up from there to look to Morgan. "Effusion," she grimaces to him before she looks back to the healer and Wren. "There's fluid," she explains, tapping gently on the boy's chest. "Between the lung, and the chest wall. It's stopping the lung from being able to inflate fully." She draws a deep breath in explanation, inflating her own chest as well as she can. "We may need to drain the fluid." Frowning thoughtfully to herself, she looks around the room. "Which is independent of cooling this place. I think I could rig fans, though."

Morgan listens to Keta then glances over to one of the Grounders for a translation. Actions are clear though and what she wants of Silver is obvious even if the words weren't. "Lobelia. I'm not familiar with it." Silver's analysis confirms what they originally thought, which is both good and bad. "I think that's got to be the course of treatment. Especially on the ones who are worst off. We can't risk waiting to see what happens with other things." he tells her before turning back to Wren. "The plants you use for poultices and pastes for injuries…" He opens his jacket and lightly touches the bandage there. "We'll need a supply when we're ready to start." Morgan adds "Do you use willow bark to treat fevers?"

Cassandra listens keenly as Keta and Wren explain their ways, pausing her data-gathering for a moment to watch as Silver places her head down on the Grounder boy's chest. She likewise follows the medtech's gaze to the walls and ceiling when fans are mentioned, and turns to direct the questions she posed Afaye to Wren, who seems to know a little more. "Lobelia flower? As in lobeline?" she asks, but is wary to jump to conclusions until the thing is produced. After all, while the Skaikru do indeed have records on a plant called 'lobelia', in Trigedasleng that could be anything. Their idea of a lobelia could be a sunflower, for all she knows.

Keta narrows her eyes as the delinquents begin their set up, and she immediately holds up her hands. "Stop, stop," she says firmly. "You tell me first." She looks suspiciously at the pair of skaikru healers. Then she nods to Wren, moving aside toward where she has set up a supply of herbs. She grabs a bottle of what looks like dried violet flowers, and she shows them to Morgan with a small shake of the jar. "Lobelia." Then she drops back into her language. "<In Trigedasleng> I do not want them to treat our people unless I know what they are doing." She frowns deeply.

Wren will wait to see if Keta will need him to translate back to her. Hopefully it's only going one way, otherwise he won't be able to stop talking, suddenly regretting paying so much attention when he was taught this second language. When she makes a move to halt, he steps forward to try and play mediator between the head healer and the medtechs. "<In Trigedasleng> They say there is liquid in his chest, and it needs to drained out of him. That's the cause of the bad breathing. I think the illness has caused the fluid? And caused the fever?" He shrugs at the last part, but at least it /sounds/ plausible to him.

"She wants you to tell her exactly what you're going to do to them. Explain it to her. Otherwise, she won't let you treat them." Wren adds to SIlver and Morgan.

The flower that Keta produces has Cassandra nodding her head, lifting a finger to point at it in acknowledgement. "Lobelia," she confirms, looking to Wren. She keeps a watchful eye on the senior healer when she lifts her hands to show signs of apprehension towards her fellows, but it doesn't cause her to lose her cool. Apart from that, she lets those more qualified hold court.

At the first 'stop' from Keta, Silver settles back on her heels, raising her hands palms up. "We aren't doing anything without you," she promises, gaze steady before she looks to Wren, choosing her words carefully and speaking slowly to make sure the message gets across. "To make room for his lungs to fill, we need to remove the fluid around them. The best way is to insert a hollow tube…" She trails off, slowly lowering one finger to point at a space between the boy's ribs. "A reed, maybe? A long, hollow thorn? The liquid drains out the tube, and then there's room for him to breathe again."

"And the willow bark?" Morgan asks Wren before looking over at Cassandra. "What's its use? I'm not an herbalist." As Silver explains, he watches Keta's expression for understanding and a reaction.

Niner's posture stiffens with alarm when Keta starts calling for the medics to stop. His weight shifts forward onto the balls of his feet, and his eyes dart between the Delinquent medics, Keta, and Wren. "Everything cool in there?" he asks, his words slow and wary.

Uncertain what to do, Cameron moves over to where the herbs are and takes it upon himself to look them over while Morgan and Silver negotiate the care of the patients.

Keta narrows her eyes, but this time thoughtfully instead of in suspicion. She finally nods slightly. "Bark, yes." She then steps away from the group, moving back to her stores. She rummages in her goods until she finds what looks to be a long tube of equally long metal barbs — probably had once been horse needles based on the size and gauge. "For sores." She gestures to Silver and Morgan. "You show me."

"Lobeline's used to treat respiratory disorders and muscle spasms. Which that kid has," says Cass, giving the boy whose chest Silver was resting her head upon moments ago a nod of her own. "At least the first part. Used to be used to treat addictions to, but on the Ark…" She doesn't need to finish that sentence, and so lets it hang. People stupid enough to try and obtain enough illicit substances to get addicted to are near as few and far between as parents who won't use birth control after their first child, and even then… there's no one to try to make you go to rehab for you to say 'no, no, no' to; you'd just get floated. "Sorry. Lobeline's the active ingredient in lobelia. We grow it in AgroTech." Apparently the
"We're good," Silver calls back to Niner, brows rising with a sudden grin when Keta comes back with the needles. "We're great, actually. Perfect." Her words may be less than clear, but her happiness at finding real tools is crystal clear. "Do you have alcohol, for sterilization? And…" She tilts her head, considering for a moment. "Honey. To treat the wound afterwards, so it doesn't get infected."

Lobelia, lobeline. Makes sense. Though there's more effective medications so Morgan's not really familiar with it. Any port in a storm though. Keta's hidden treasure gets a broad smile. Honest to god needles. No bird bones required. "They have plants for that Silver. What they used on me and Quinn."

Coming into the room later than the others is Asher, moving at a slow, steady pace, but with his arms wrapped around the supplies Morgan asked for. "I got your supplies…Where do you want them?" He glances from Silver to Morgan, brow raised expectantly. The fact that he's being helpful at all in a not fighty fashion has to count for something. Now someone come get this stuff.

When it seems like there's actual understanding going on, Wren slowly steps backwards to take back that part of the wall he holding up with his his frame. He'll go back to observing and the random translation if he needs to.

Cassandra raises her eyebrows at Asher's peculiar entry. It's one thing for her to be pleasant and useful, but she knows what she's doing; if he's going to play that card too, the world has definitely gone mad. Nonetheless, just as others permitted her, she doesn't question him more extensively than in the form of a surprised stare.

Keta gives the two a look of inexhaustable patience. "Yes." She snaps at Cameron who is loitering around her stores. "Sky Boy… the bottle… dark liquid." She waves a hand in front of her nose. "Smell of bitter." Cameron will find a bottle of her description, and when he smells it, he might be surprised to find it smells like the sharp, sinus-clearing scent of anise. She holds out her hand, waiting for Cameron to deliver it to her.

As Keta mentions the stuff, Cameron eyes the herbs, and idly says, "Al leek Cameron Scott come skaikru. Hi there. I'm one of our resident plant .. hm. Do you know 'scientist'?" And he finds the jar, unstoppers it, smells it, and practically flinches out of his skin for a moment, wincing and rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, "Whooooa, the fuck jiggity is that." He takes it over to Morgan though, sniffing again.

Silver is trying really hard to stay professional and not look entirely gleeful about the new things she's learning about natural medicine. She's…mostly succeeding. But there's definitely sharp interest in every new thing that comes out.

Morgan looks over at Asher then gestures over toward a wall. "Thanks Asher. You can set it down over there, please. If we're lucky, and it's turning out we are so far, we might not even need it." Better to be prepared though. He glances at Cam then peers at the bottle when he comes over, giving it a sniff and wrinkling his nose. "Antiseptic?"

"Annis." Keta waits for the bottle, hand still outstretched. She will even wave her fingers impatiently if the boys continue to loiter around, sniffing her herbs. When she is given it, she finally fixes Cameron with a suspicious look. "No," she finally states flatly. "No… sigh-in-tiss."

Oh right. Yes, Cam brought the bottle to Keta after detouring to let Morgan sniff it. Ahem. "It means I study plants. Professionally." A quick flash of dimples is shared with the lady healer, "Annis. Oh, /annis/? I know that from our records."

Wren brushes some dirty blone hair out of his eyes while he waches the whole 'healing' thing. There's clearly something on his mind, watching the entire progression with a careful eye, studying, perhaps memorizing how each person moves, mannerism, and which hand they seem dominant in. So yeah, he's calculating who is and who isn't the biggest threat. It's what he does. "<In Trigedasleng> Scientist." he clarifies for Keta, apparently having some kind of word that more or less equates to it. "<In Trigedasleng> Some of the lost arts."

Asher eyes Morgan a moment. He was just thanked for something. Asher doesn't get thanked for things as a general rule so it takes him a moment to make his way to the area Morgan gestured to. "Yeah. Fine." he states after clearing his throat. That sounded good. Super non gracious. He sets down the waterproof bag, the hollow needle and other stuff. He remains silent beyond that.

"Is that for sterilizing things?" Silver asks as the bottle makes it to her and Keta. "To…make things clean?" she asks, rewording things to be more clear. Absently, as she waits, she lays the back of her hand gently against the boy's brow, checking his temperature and then resting two fingers against the pulse at his throat.

"Yes," Keta says, again very patience. She then begins to mix the tincture with some water from one of the basins. The water turns a watery brown as she mixes, and then she presents the bowl to Silver. "To clean. Good for hands too." Then she steps back a bit to give the Sky girl some space. She is prepared to watch, with minimum intervention. Probably.

Morgan steps over to watch the mixture and get an idea of the proportions used. Then he looks over at Silver. "How good are you at hands on? I know you're good with machines."

<FS3> Silver rolls Medicine+3: Good Success.

"I can handle it," Silver answers Morgan, though her voice is definitely more still than confident. "I was designing surgical tech before I went in," she adds quietly. "Which came with some practice." Carefully, she washes the needle in the solution, then crouches next to the boy. "I need someone to hold him still, please, just in case." She waits until that's done, then feels carefully along his ribs, choosing the right spot to slowly and carefully insert the needle. Nothing happens at first, getting a grimace. "Someone pass me some of the tubing, please. Looks like we're going to need some suction."

The boy releases a sharp noise of discomfort when the needle is inserted, and he squirms a bit against whoever holds him. But then he steadies when Keta murmurs something to him, and reaches down to touch his sweaty head. Then she looks to Silver, watching the procedure curiously.

Even Wren can't help but look on, interested. From a historical perspective, this should be written down. If he knew how to write. Still, it's something curious, something he may even ask about later. Should he find time. Or be in the right mood.

As the procedure begins, Cameron spends some time looking at the herbs, memorizing them as best he can— which is probably not the best, but still— and when that's done, he goes to stand by Morgan and watch. Silent, so as to not disturb someone being stabbed.

As Silver moves to insert the needle, Morgan steps closer to watch. It's as new to him as it is to the Grounders except in theory. "Well, that's good. Means the pressure isn't too great yet. We should have something for the fluid to drain into too so it can be disposed of carefully." Morgan moves over to where Asher set everything down and brings back a piece of tubing. On his way, he looks around then goes to collect one of the things they use for patients to relieve themselves in. An empty one.

Once she has the tubing, Silver fits one end around the end of the needle, holding it in place with her fingers and taking a deep breath. "This is going to be gross," she admits to herself in an undertone. Taking a deep breath, she braces herself, then puts the other end of the tube in her mouth and starts to suck. It takes a few tries, but eventually, the fluid starts to climb into the tubing. One more good draw and it's coming down the tube. Quickly, she lowers the other end into the bucket to catch the drainage, watching the boy intently for signs of improvement.

Cassandra need not hover over Silver's shoulder to admire her work, and so she remains where she is, with the other Grounder patients, having by now made a full round to gather that baseline data requested. It's only when the medtech promises 'this is going to be gross' that the Farm Station girl finds it impossible not to send her brown eyes trailing towards the sick boy's chest when in goes a tube. She looks more fascinated than perturbed, but not just by the procedure — while others remain fixated, she uses the opportunity to take stock of their facial expressions, making mental note of how each person copes.

Morgan continues to watch with a certain smug fascination. "Knew it would work." he murmurs. Then more seriously, he looks at Keta. "This isn't going to cure them." he cautions. "But it should help a lot and give their bodies a chance to fight off the infection. With strong doses of willow tea for the fever, I think most will be okay." Looking to Silver, he says "If any don't respond, we might need to try a transfusion as a last resort so our antibodies can boost their immune system against this."

It will take a moment, but then his entire chest seems to fill with air when his lungs are given more space to fill. His eyes widen a bit in surprise, but then relief passes over his face — and Keta's. The healer is on her knees now, rubbing the sweaty hair from his brow and offering him a kind smile. She murmurs something softly to him, and then she looks up toward Morgan and Silver. "The others," she gestures to the other twenty-nine still ailing before she then nods. She snaps at one of her seconds — a tall boy who has not yet filled out his frame — and he scrambles to make some tea as ordered.

Wren pipes up from the background for Keta's sake. "<In Trigedasleng> He said that this won't cure them, but it's going to give them a better chance at overcoming their illness. Says they need to drink willow tea to treat their fever." There is something on his face after he says that, seeing the boy start to breathe something that borders on normal.

"No transfusion," Silver shakes her head. "There's no way we can keep it sterile enough to prevent sepsis or a blood infection. I ran it by medical, they agreed. Worst case scenario, we could consider trying to make a vaccine with serum. At least an intramuscular injection would be less of a danger. But we'd need to do…a lot of work. Let's get this started with draining, first. Then I'll get to work on designing some fans to keep it cooler in here."

"A vaccine?" Morgan mulls that over. "We don't have a centrifuge. You can build something?" But he's already moving to take a needle. "We'll need a needle for each person and a length of tube for each as well. Probably be best to have a large pot of water boiling outside somewhere so once we're done with them, they can just be dropped in to sterilize. We'll start with the ones who are weakest." he tells Keta.

"She did it," Cass says to herself with a breath of relief, evidently impressed by Silver's work. She offers nearby Grounders a smile, simply to exchange this moment of miraculous joy, before turning to Wren specifically. "It will take our medtechs some time to help all thirty of these." She gestures to the group hereabouts as she meets the ragged man's gaze. "Are there sleeping quarters we can stay in? We would like to help you as much as we can before we leave."

Asher has remained quietly in the back of the infirmary, unable to really do much, now that he's delivered supplies. In order to avoid speaking and thus pissing someone off, Asher has decided to stand stoic and silent in the doorway, guarding his doctors. His gaze is settled on Wren a good chunk of the time, because let's face it, if Silver or Morgan screw up and kill someone, that big dude is going to be a huge problem. When Cass brings up sleeping here, Asher arches an eyebrow. "Let's deal with Oxfor on staying longer I think…" he offers up firmly.

Keta does not seem terribly interested in trying to make sense what the silly Skaikru are saying, but she is definitely interested in helping with the drainage of the rest of her people. She helps sterilize the needle and tubing in her anise tincture. She is amazingly observant during the next few procedures, watching where and at what depth the needle in inserted. She will guide them to the sickest, being ever vigilante… perhaps for her own learning, but also perhaps under explicit orders.

"I can try, at least," Silver answers Morgan. "With enough of the right tools. Making things spin in circles isn't too hard, and at least once you get it started it tends to want to keep going on its own. But still. Last resort for now." For now, though, she's focused on dealing with the sick people they can help immediately. One step at a time.

Wren doesn't seem all that interested in picking up that large axe and starting to swing it around. They're doing alright by his count, and Keta hasn't given any angry notes about heads needing to roll. So the axe stays where it is, sitting next to him. There's a glance or two at Asher, but really, he doesn't seem to worried about having to get his hands dirty. Right now, he's just a big surly looking translator.

"Hopefully this will be enough." Morgan says as he gets to work. The virus itself isn't deadly so if we can prevent secondary problems from killing them, they should be able to fight it off. Having those needles was fortunate. I wonder if they have any we can use for sutures." He's happy to train Keta to do the procedure as well. The only real tricky part is the depth.

Cameron's watching and such, but he looks relieved when the kid seems to recover some from the trauma. "Yeah, we should talk to the Chief." he agrees with Asher.

"I would love to talk to the chief," says an enthusiastic, glowing Cassandra. And for once, she acknowledges her fellows' suspicions about her — specifically Cameron's — by turning to give him a very pointed, self-satisfied raise of her eyebrows. But so far she's proven to be nothing but a model citizen here at Coesbur, and when she does speak to Oxfor, she is able to relay with great success how Silver and Morgan have made groundbreaking progress on healing the sick, how glad she and her fellows are to be here for this chance at peace, and to secure the group a place to sleep on the second floor.

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