Humans are Weird - Wiggle It
Fifteenth Trill grimly held his nostrils rigid as the smell of the fake bark crept up deeper into his sinuses. He took yet another careful breath, feeling his ribcage push gently against his immobilized wing. There was no pain of course. The tiny scrap of metal and plastic attached to the shaved side of his skull made sure of that, but so long as his mind was clear he could feel the strange sensation of bones moving in ways they shouldn’t. The face bark smell was deeper in his nostrils now and he found himself wishing intently for the human medical bay. Yes, it did smell terribly sterile and harsh, but that honest smell of artificially intense acids and bases would have been better that the cloying lies of machine generated chemicals pretending to be the mixed life/death of forest detritus. Suddenly the still air of the isolation room was disturbed as the inner lock opened.
“You have a special visitor!” Doctor Seventh Chirp called out as he scampered in, stirring the air and bringing with him the comforting scents of the rest of the wing and the warm wash of mammal that indicated a human was in the medical ward. “A patient who broke the same bone you did!”
The fake bark smell was washed out and Fifteenth Trill breathed freely and blinked his eyes open to catch glimpses of the doctor bustling in and out of his line of sight. The soft walls still muted the sounds so the whole situation was still depressing but Doctor Seventh Chirp’s cheerful energy was invigorating. Doctor Seventh Chirp activated the scanners and the sterile frequencies itched over Fifteenth Trill’s antenna. The doctor gave a few satisfied chirps and then bustled over so he was fully in Fifteenth Trill’s line of sight.
“The bones are healed enough to release you back to your wing!” Doctor Seventh Chirp said, his long nostril frills trembling with sincere delight.
Fifteenth Trill opened his mouth to reply and in a moment Doctor Seventh Chirp’s entire demeanor transformed. His eyes narrowed and glittered in the dim lights of the room. His nostril frills bristled out threateningly. His fur puffed out and he leaned closer.
“So long as you follow the movement restrictions in your file,” the doctor growled in a deep voice, “I sound no reason your bones won’t heal perfectly.”
A very uncomfortable few seconds stretched out between them.
“I will be very careful to follow all the restrictions,” Fifteenth Trill said as meekly as he could.
“I am serious,” Doctor Seventh Chirp growled and punctuated the statement by tapping his datapad against Fifteenth Trill’s snout. “You have no idea how many full bone replacements I’ve had to do because some fluffy, young idiot tries to go flying with his wing before his bones are ready.”
“I will not even practice flap until you give the word,” Fifteenth Trill said, pouring as much earnest intent into his voice as he could.
The doctor glared into his eyes for several more long, uncomfortable seconds before huffing out a final sound of disbelieve and smoothing his fur down and turning the controls. The inner lock opened and the rest of the medical personnel scampered in. They chirped cheerfully at him as they did mysterious things to the harnesses that immobilized him. He was gradually lowered onto a hover pad and then moved out through the airlock to where he expected to see the rest of his wing. However the only non-medical Winged who was there was from a different wing sporting a bald patch on his breast that indicated something possibly contagious so it was no surprise when the stranger only gave a friendly chirp but didn’t cross the waiting platform to assist with the thorough but professional grooming the medical wing were giving him. It made sense of course, his wing had duties to preform outside of the base and the long term immobilization of one member couldn’t be allowed to cripple the wing, still he found his spirits sinking. As the medics finished affixing the greatly reduced, but still immobilizing harnesses Fifteenth Trill found himself wondering who the special visitor was who the doctor had mentioned, and where was the wing that was going to escort him back to his wing’s dormitory.
“Were done now!” one of the medics called out, waving a wing in that particular gesture used to summon a human.
Fifteenth Trill perked up as the air began to swirl with the massive movements that indicated a human was moving through an enclosed space. Off the side of the waiting platform a blurry mass resolved itself into a human with one of his massive arms in a constricting hammock.
“This is Specialist Gregory Smith,” one of the medics said, his face wrinkled in amusement. “He’ll be carrying you back to the social area outside your dorm. Your wing will take you in when they get back tonight.”
Fifteenth Trill felt a warm flutter in his heart that he made sure didn’t transfer to his one, now partially free wing. The medics were still watching.
“Yo!” Smith called out with a bright smile and a wave of his free hand. “You the little hellbat I’m supposed to escort back to his dorm?”
“Yes! I am.” Fifteenth Trill exclaimed. “Please pat my – I mean if you want to pat my head, or scritch behind my horns I would not be offended. Especially not if you wanted to use your talons to scritch behind my left third horn. Oh yes, right there-”
Fifteenth Trill broke off in a relieved chitter as the now chuckling human obligingly reached one of his thick digits, with thankfully clean and even talons, around and tenderly scritched the indicated patch. When Fifteenth Trill heave a sigh of relief the human stopped the motion and bent to thoughtfully examine the harness set up.
“They gave me the info on this,” the human muttered, his damp breath washing over Fifteenth Trill’s horns. “Looks pretty intuitive. Gonna pick you up now.”
The human gingerly pinched the attachment points on his harness between two fingers and lifted him up, before tucking him into the human’s own canvas harness. Fifteenth Trill gave a chirp of surprise as he was set down on a printed-polycarbon framework that encased the thick, broad flesh of the human hand. Suddenly to Fifteenth Click’s shock the joints of all of the fingers flexed and relaxed.
“Hey now!” Fifteenth Click sputtered out, and then repeated realizing he had slipped into tones too high for humans to hear. “Hey! Why do you get to flex your fingers if I can’t! We’re supposed to have the same injury!”
Smith laughed and flexed his hands again.
“It’s not a load bearing bone in humans little bud,” Smith reminded him gently. “We ground pounding mammals have way more to fear from atrophy than a little movement. Hey, just a tic’, let me just-”
The humans other hand reached in and tweaked the framework in a few specific places and the skin below it lit up with a projection of the bones. The broken one lit up with bright red lines to indicate the fracture points.
“See?” the human said. “The bone is just as far from my shoulder as yours is, but it’s got lots and lots of other bones and stuff supporting it. Technically I could heal without a brace at all if I’m careful, and even in this day and age they don’t even brace it if you break the same bone in your foot this bad. They just run the healing lights over it and tell you to take it easy for a few days.”
Fifteenth Click huffed out some reply as he slumped in the tight, restrictive harness that was going to cause his fur to grow all wonky for seasons. It itched, everything itched, and his wing wouldn’t be back for hours.
“Cost benefit lil’ bud,” the human went on in a sympathetic tone. “You get to fly. I get to stay moving with a few bones broke. Tell you what. I’ll use my good hand to swing you around in the air till your wing gets back. That way you can feel the wind over your horns.”
“This won’t interfere with your recreation plans for the afternoon?” Fifteenth Click asked perking up a bit.
“Nah,” the human said, giving his injured hand yet another flex. “I’ll just put a vid on the big screen first. Nothing like a little brain rot entertainment and some spinning in circles to make the afternoon pass!”
Fifteenth Trill had the vague idea that the medics wouldn’t like this idea, but it hadn’t been specifically forbidden, and the human did seem very confident in the idea.
“You have a special visitor!” Doctor Seventh Chirp called out as he scampered in, stirring the air and bringing with him the comforting scents of the rest of the wing and the warm wash of mammal that indicated a human was in the medical ward. “A patient who broke the same bone you did!”
The fake bark smell was washed out and Fifteenth Trill breathed freely and blinked his eyes open to catch glimpses of the doctor bustling in and out of his line of sight. The soft walls still muted the sounds so the whole situation was still depressing but Doctor Seventh Chirp’s cheerful energy was invigorating. Doctor Seventh Chirp activated the scanners and the sterile frequencies itched over Fifteenth Trill’s antenna. The doctor gave a few satisfied chirps and then bustled over so he was fully in Fifteenth Trill’s line of sight.
“The bones are healed enough to release you back to your wing!” Doctor Seventh Chirp said, his long nostril frills trembling with sincere delight.
Fifteenth Trill opened his mouth to reply and in a moment Doctor Seventh Chirp’s entire demeanor transformed. His eyes narrowed and glittered in the dim lights of the room. His nostril frills bristled out threateningly. His fur puffed out and he leaned closer.
“So long as you follow the movement restrictions in your file,” the doctor growled in a deep voice, “I sound no reason your bones won’t heal perfectly.”
A very uncomfortable few seconds stretched out between them.
“I will be very careful to follow all the restrictions,” Fifteenth Trill said as meekly as he could.
“I am serious,” Doctor Seventh Chirp growled and punctuated the statement by tapping his datapad against Fifteenth Trill’s snout. “You have no idea how many full bone replacements I’ve had to do because some fluffy, young idiot tries to go flying with his wing before his bones are ready.”
“I will not even practice flap until you give the word,” Fifteenth Trill said, pouring as much earnest intent into his voice as he could.
The doctor glared into his eyes for several more long, uncomfortable seconds before huffing out a final sound of disbelieve and smoothing his fur down and turning the controls. The inner lock opened and the rest of the medical personnel scampered in. They chirped cheerfully at him as they did mysterious things to the harnesses that immobilized him. He was gradually lowered onto a hover pad and then moved out through the airlock to where he expected to see the rest of his wing. However the only non-medical Winged who was there was from a different wing sporting a bald patch on his breast that indicated something possibly contagious so it was no surprise when the stranger only gave a friendly chirp but didn’t cross the waiting platform to assist with the thorough but professional grooming the medical wing were giving him. It made sense of course, his wing had duties to preform outside of the base and the long term immobilization of one member couldn’t be allowed to cripple the wing, still he found his spirits sinking. As the medics finished affixing the greatly reduced, but still immobilizing harnesses Fifteenth Trill found himself wondering who the special visitor was who the doctor had mentioned, and where was the wing that was going to escort him back to his wing’s dormitory.
“Were done now!” one of the medics called out, waving a wing in that particular gesture used to summon a human.
Fifteenth Trill perked up as the air began to swirl with the massive movements that indicated a human was moving through an enclosed space. Off the side of the waiting platform a blurry mass resolved itself into a human with one of his massive arms in a constricting hammock.
“This is Specialist Gregory Smith,” one of the medics said, his face wrinkled in amusement. “He’ll be carrying you back to the social area outside your dorm. Your wing will take you in when they get back tonight.”
Fifteenth Trill felt a warm flutter in his heart that he made sure didn’t transfer to his one, now partially free wing. The medics were still watching.
“Yo!” Smith called out with a bright smile and a wave of his free hand. “You the little hellbat I’m supposed to escort back to his dorm?”
“Yes! I am.” Fifteenth Trill exclaimed. “Please pat my – I mean if you want to pat my head, or scritch behind my horns I would not be offended. Especially not if you wanted to use your talons to scritch behind my left third horn. Oh yes, right there-”
Fifteenth Trill broke off in a relieved chitter as the now chuckling human obligingly reached one of his thick digits, with thankfully clean and even talons, around and tenderly scritched the indicated patch. When Fifteenth Trill heave a sigh of relief the human stopped the motion and bent to thoughtfully examine the harness set up.
“They gave me the info on this,” the human muttered, his damp breath washing over Fifteenth Trill’s horns. “Looks pretty intuitive. Gonna pick you up now.”
The human gingerly pinched the attachment points on his harness between two fingers and lifted him up, before tucking him into the human’s own canvas harness. Fifteenth Trill gave a chirp of surprise as he was set down on a printed-polycarbon framework that encased the thick, broad flesh of the human hand. Suddenly to Fifteenth Click’s shock the joints of all of the fingers flexed and relaxed.
“Hey now!” Fifteenth Click sputtered out, and then repeated realizing he had slipped into tones too high for humans to hear. “Hey! Why do you get to flex your fingers if I can’t! We’re supposed to have the same injury!”
Smith laughed and flexed his hands again.
“It’s not a load bearing bone in humans little bud,” Smith reminded him gently. “We ground pounding mammals have way more to fear from atrophy than a little movement. Hey, just a tic’, let me just-”
The humans other hand reached in and tweaked the framework in a few specific places and the skin below it lit up with a projection of the bones. The broken one lit up with bright red lines to indicate the fracture points.
“See?” the human said. “The bone is just as far from my shoulder as yours is, but it’s got lots and lots of other bones and stuff supporting it. Technically I could heal without a brace at all if I’m careful, and even in this day and age they don’t even brace it if you break the same bone in your foot this bad. They just run the healing lights over it and tell you to take it easy for a few days.”
Fifteenth Click huffed out some reply as he slumped in the tight, restrictive harness that was going to cause his fur to grow all wonky for seasons. It itched, everything itched, and his wing wouldn’t be back for hours.
“Cost benefit lil’ bud,” the human went on in a sympathetic tone. “You get to fly. I get to stay moving with a few bones broke. Tell you what. I’ll use my good hand to swing you around in the air till your wing gets back. That way you can feel the wind over your horns.”
“This won’t interfere with your recreation plans for the afternoon?” Fifteenth Click asked perking up a bit.
“Nah,” the human said, giving his injured hand yet another flex. “I’ll just put a vid on the big screen first. Nothing like a little brain rot entertainment and some spinning in circles to make the afternoon pass!”
Fifteenth Trill had the vague idea that the medics wouldn’t like this idea, but it hadn’t been specifically forbidden, and the human did seem very confident in the idea.
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