Nonsense

Writers: Yvonne, Emma
Date Posted: 3rd November 2005

Characters: Realsen, Tulyav
Description: Master Beastcrafter Tulyav and Journeyman Realsen discuss the beast sickness that is plaguing the Weyr
Location: River Bluff Weyr
Date: month 8, day 16 of Turn 3

Tulyav sniffed loudly, wiped his nose on the back of his hand, and stared down at the dead ovine. That was the fourth that sevenday and it was only three days in, but thankfully they were all animals from the quarantine pen rather than from the Weyr's food stock. **Although we keep adding animals to quarantine...** The ovine was starting to attract all manners of creepy-crawlies who loved the open sores on its gums and the oozing blisters between its cloven hooves. He turned away as a fly walked over one half-lidded eye. "Get this burnt."

"Yes sir," replied Realsen. By now the journeyman had seen enough of these corpses to not dismiss the sight, but to deal with it calmly.
He signaled a nearby apprentice to drag the dead animal to a waiting pyre, just waiting for the signal to light it.

He began limping back toward the fence, trusting that the journeyman would follow. "Looks like another old ewe. Most of the dead 'uns are old."

"Or very young." Several of the lambs seemed to have suffered as well. That was the most heart breaking, seeing the ewes bleating as they tried to find their young.

The Master Beastcrafter grunted. "The stock in the dragon pens - if they keep dying at this rate, we'll get through the winter fine, if a little on the lean side. The Lady Weyrholder wants a number of healthy animals set aside for the Hatching, when it happens. You're in charge of that."

"Sir," Realsen nodded his acknowledgement as well as saying it aloud.

"What if this spreads?"

"Spreads to where? Where hasn't it spread?" Tulyav coughed discreetly behind his fist and cursed under his breath. "There is no _if_
Journeyman. We can only hope that the news from the Hall says that infected and healed animals are fit to eat. Or at the very least, fit to eat by dragons."

"I mean to people, or to the holdings around here," said the Journeyman. People, well the rest of the beastcrafters were beginning to talk amongst themselves, wondering what was causing this. And rumors spread faster than a dragon could go /between/.

Tulyav put his hands in his pockets. "You know as well as I that animal diseases are rarely transmitted by people. Who put that idea into your head?"

"I overheard some talk in the dining caverns last night. Whoever it was shut up when I got near."

"Well, they're wrong. If it was catching, it'd be caught by now."
They reached the fence and the Master Beastcrafter turned to the Journeyman. "Get that carcass burnt, and remember to keep the fodder for the weyrlings disease-free."

"Yes sir," replied Realsen. The Journeyman turned to leave, signaling an apprentice to follow and fetch the materials to build a pyre.

Tulyav watched him go, his face impassive. So there were rumors about the sickness spreading to people... nonsense. **It has to be nonsense,** he told himself. His throat tickled again and he coughed, the action leaving him breathless. **Animal diseases rarely spread,**
he told himself again, and he closed his hand in a fist around the blisters that had formed on his palm... blisters that matched the ones that were found between sick beasts' hooves. **Nonsense.**

Last updated on the November 3rd 2005

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Nonsense