For his part, Sh'van was irritable, though not at his dragon. He knew why they were here, understood that it was for the benefit of Tamith's lungs which were in a precarious placement if they didn't heal the correct way. He didn't care about his own injuries, just hers; the surface wounds weren't as severe as what rested on her insides, even he could see that. The bandages had not bled through, and were it not for the inner damage, they wouldn't have had to lead the chilly northern mountains of High Reaches. But the healers there had said that it was best for them to go South, that Tamith would do well to see the Master that now occupied the unique halls of the Weyr there. He had sworn he would never leave High Reaches again, not after what had happened the last time he had left. The only good thing that had happened during that escape had been receiving the green that now shared his life, but nothing like that could ever come about being away from where he wanted to be now.
A lump formed in his throat, and he had to force himself to swallow it down. Fuck, he wasn't going to cry. Not over something like this. He supposed it didn't help that he wasn't sleeping well, due in no short part to his own issues with insomnia, but the fact that he was worrying almost non-stop about his dragon certainly weren't making it any easier to get a few dozen winks in. He glanced at her as she lumbered - slowly, but she was inching her way ever closer to the infirmary entrance - and he tried to picture what it would be like if she were no longer able to fly like she had prior to the Threadfall incident. The images made his heart peel away from its protective wall and sink to his feet, where he nearly stumbled over it as he walked with her, his arm in its sling, an encasement that did little to stop the pain emanating from his own injuries.
Tamith stopped her slow stroll to crane her neck and look at him. She reached out to nuzzle her rider and snuffled the air above his head. That being said, she continued forward, leaving him no choice but to follow, and he did so with a smile on his face, because if anyone could make him feel better, it was his dragon. Of course when they arrived, she crooned to the nearest set of hands that were available to see her, a man wearing the knots of a bluerider. Sh'van set a hand on her rump before she could speak, but she beat him to it.