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Canterlot Hospital (OPEN for business!)


knight
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Flitwink

Flitwink trotted quietly through the hospital. It was a quiet day, not much was happening today other than a veterinary appointment much later in the afternoon. He sighed and trotted casually through the halls. It was strange, not having his hot-headed daughter fluttering around, busying herself with bugging the elderly ponies in the hospital rooms.

His clinic was fairly large, standing two stories, and expanding nearly half the city block it was on, and employed a wide range of nurse and a couple more doctor ponies. It's second floor and half of the first were stictly dedicated to pony care, though the odd griffon or even an out of place hippocamp was not uncommon--both inpatient and out, and a small wing on the lower level was dedicated to veterinary care--his own personal wing, really, as he was the only doctor here who specialized in both pony and non-pony care. It had largely expanded from the small split-level shop he and his wife had started with, but it still retained an air of...quaintness...to it.

The air was warm, the nurses and staff were friendly, and even on the busiest days, smiles were always exchanged between friends. Everyone was always rather cheerful.

Flit sighed as he trotted into the small room between pony and animal care that served as his office. A stack of papers were on his deck, with a note from one of the staff nurse ponies.

'We need more help! Here's the best of them.'

He groaned inwardly as he saw the stack of applications before him. He had the smallest fragment of hope that maybe some sort of emergency would stumble in...or even a foal with a cold...something...

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Frederic stumbled in the hospital. Ugh, I probably should have listened to Octavia... Frederic thought to himself. Frederic has been on a hectic schedule since his department had unearthed a long lost archive of music. Between traveling to different regions of Equestria and managing concerts for both himself and Octavia, Frederic rarely found the time to eat and sleep. Fortunately, the amount of music Fred's required to study has diminished slightly but Fred's health has taken a steep turn for the worst.

Octavia was initially worried about her co-worker's health but Frederic paid no heed to it. Frederic didn't want to admit it but he's quite fond of the little gray mare. Frederic wanted to work hard so that Octavia wouldn't have to bear a lot of the tedious notation and analysis of the newly discovered music. Days went by as Fred started to get sick but today, Fred could ignore it no more.

"Excuse me, could somepony help me?" Fred weakly muttered. The exhaustion was too much. Fred coughed up a wad of mucus and collapsed. Loud wheezing can be heard as the unconscious Fred took deep but strained breaths.

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Flitwink

Flink's ears were alert the second he heard the door to the clinic open, and he was quickly out of his desk before the applications had even been touched. His massive, bulky wings hung loosely at his side as he trotted down the hallway at his normal, speedy gait. It was the natural gait that came from being a doctor. You never knew if what was around the corner was an emergency or just a cold.

He stopped short as he saw a stallion collapsed in the entry way. Just by looking he would say it was severe exaustion. The stallion had dark circles under his eyes, and was covered in a thin film of sweat. This observation came and was assessed within a fraction of a second, and seeing as there were no nearby nurses as they were low on staff due to the slow nature of the day, he scooped up the stallion with a wing, and slid him into place on his back before galloping off to a room, calling a nurse pony on his way to the room that was on the second floor.

She quickly followed him into the room, and pulled out a bed for the stallion. Flink put the stallion on the bed and grabbed a nearby set of revitalizing herbs, and with a flick of a match, lit the herbs aflame, and waited for them to take affect. He would need the stallion awake to fully assess and be able to administer fluids and treatment for his exhaustion. It shouldn't be long now, the powerful aromatherapy was nearly impossible for anypony to sleep through....it filled the body with a great amount of energy. The large stallion pegasi dismissed his nurse and sat down next to the bed, waiting the white maned stallions awakening.

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He would need the stallion awake to fully assess and be able to administer fluids and treatment for his exhaustion. It shouldn't be long now, the powerful aromatherapy was nearly impossible for anypony to sleep through....it filled the body with a great amount of energy. The large stallion pegasi dismissed his nurse and sat down next to the bed, waiting the white maned stallions awakening.

Frederic's bloodshot eyes popped open. "MY MUZIKS! MY MUZIKS! VAT HAVE U DONE WITH THEM?!" Frederic's accent comes out more when he's unhinged. Fred frantically looked around and grabbed the doctor stallion. "VERE ARE MY MUZIKS?!" The more Fred yelled the more he started to wheeze. Violent hacking and coughing started to ensue. Frederic grabbed a tissue and hacked into it. He looked at it and quickly threw it away, trying to hid it's content.

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Cross-Stitch trotted into the hospital with a slight limp. Any kind of pressure he exerted on his front right leg was met with a sharp tinge of pain, effectively making his leg useless. He slowly made his way up to the sign-in booth, and put his name down, and then moved to a nearby seat. His hooves made an odd beat against the floor as he limped away, and eventually reached a place to rest. The journey here was incredibly difficult with only three functioning legs, and it showed. Cross-Stitch was huffing and puffing trying to catch his breath. He was never one for sports, so he wasn't exactly 'Conditioned,' and his now recent handicap had made matters even worse for him. After a bit of rest, he seemed to have calmed down, his breathing was normal, and his heart had returned to its normal pace of beating. His mane was a bit frazzled though, and his coat was a bit messed up from the sweat. He felt positively awful to be out and about with his person in such disarray. he mentally made a note to bathe the moment he was able.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Flitwink

Flink sighed, and pressed his hooves gently onto the shoulders of the stallion as he thrashed in the bed, "Please, sir, you need to rest. You're suffering from a severe case of exhaustion. Your 'music' is fine."

He bade a nurse to enter the room once more. She carried two small pills and a glass of water. She set them on the folding tray that was part of the hospital bed, "Please, sir, you need to take these. They'll fix up that bloody throat, too."

The nurse smiled sweetly and nodded to the doctor, "I'll look after him, doctor. You have another patient."

Flitwink nodded awkwardly at the nurse. He trotted out of the room, and headed for the waiting room. He stopped at the sign in counter to get the patient's information, and turned to the blue, not to mention rather petite, stallion in the room, and quickly glanced to the clipboard setting on the counter, his photographic memory quickly jumping in and memorizing the basic information. "Cross-Stitch?"

His voice was meak, almost inaudible. He was never a pony to grab anyone's attention. He cleared his throat, and looked at the old woman that ran the sign in counter, eyes pleading. She chuckled and yelled loudly, "CROOOSSS STIIITCH!!"

Flink smiled meakly at her, grateful for her voice. He trotted over to the small stallion, feeling embarrassed of his own great stature. Suddenly he felt more aware of his massive wings, and attempted to fold them at his sides, but found they were even more in the way folded, and let them slump back to the ground, "Cross-Stitch, was it? My name is Dr. Flitwink, I'll be seeing you in exam room 3. Please follow me."

He smiled kindly at the blue stallion, and began leading the way to the exam room, but then thought better of it, "Oh, I'm sorry! If you don't feel up to walking, I can certainly arrange something! Oh, forgive me for my assuming you could walk...I know you have a hurt hoof....sorry...."

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Cross-Stitch looked down to his leg, biting his lip as he did. He didn't want to be a bother, but he really didn't want to struggle more then he had. His kindness won over in the end though, "I- It's fine, Doctor... Flitwink, was it? Lovely name." He smiled as he rose, even in pain he kept his courteous nature burning. "I can still walk, so lead the way Doctor Flitwink." He beamed a bright smile, hoping to reassure the doctor that he could walk.

He was still a little exhausted from his walk over, but he assumed he would be fine. The exam room couldn't be too far away, right? He mentally sighed, thinking it was a bad idea to refuse the help, but he carried on.

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Flink sighed, and pressed his hooves gently onto the shoulders of the stallion as he thrashed in the bed, "Please, sir, you need to rest. You're suffering from a severe case of exhaustion. Your 'music' is fine."

"But... bu... I... I... I..." Frederic stuttered as he tried to form a sentence.

He bade a nurse to enter the room once more. She carried two small pills and a glass of water. She set them on the folding tray that was part of the hospital bed, "Please, sir, you need to take these. They'll fix up that bloody throat, too." The nurse smiled sweetly and nodded to the doctor, "I'll look after him, doctor. You have another patient."

Frederic quickly looked from the nurse to the doctor, then looked at his surroundings. Gradually calming down, Frederic regained his normal composure. "Oh no, please pardon me, you may have misunderstood me. I just came here to get some cough suppressant for this stupid cold. You see, I'm doing important catalog work for the Royal Canterlot Musical Archives and I've fallen behind schedule." Frederic grabbed a tissue as he started hacking. He quickly tossed the tissue away, not noticing that the tissue contained a lot of blood. "So you see, I'm just here for a quick prescription, and I would also like some Adderall to keep me focused throughout my day." The medication Frederic was referring to is a type of very strong psycho-stimulant that is only legal in certain parts of Equestria. It's an amphetamine salts–based medication used for attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder and narcolepsy but it is also occasionally used to keep ponies awake throughout the day or throughout the night. The medication can be very unhealthy in large doses but it has been commonly used amongst ponies who get too much work. Thus, Frederic has been using Adderall to keep himself awake through various all-nighters so he could focus on his work. The medication is strong enough to the point where he doesn't feel the effects of sleep-deprivation mostly throughout the day. However, Frederic's Adderall ran out recently and that nearly destroyed him.

Frederic took a paper towel and started scribbling music on it. "So if you were to be so kind as to get me my medications please, I'll be out of your mane in no time" Frederic calmly said as he gave a wide smile to the nurse. The stallion brought his attention back to his paper towel

"Syncopated harmony... no... duple complex meter... which means..." Frederic muttered to himself. If Frederic could finish compiling the rest of this Tchaihoofsky sonata, then he could finally make enough progress to be back on schedule.

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The nurse, unamused by Frederic's request for such a potent drug, reached with her magic for a sharply needled syringe, "Please, young man, you NEED to rest--no drug--especially one as unsafe as Adderall-- is going to make up for lost sleep. " She spurted a small amount of liquid, as well as a few air bubbles, out of the syringe, "If you continue to refuse to take the pills, I'll have no choice but to use any means necessary."

She turned the needle in the air, it's sharp point aimed right at Frederic, and her face darkened, "Any. Means. Necessary."

~~

Flink smiled kindly at the small stallion. It was not every day somepony complimented his name. He was about to continue his gait forward, when he caught a hint of the younger stallion stumbling. He leaned over, and caught Cross-Stitch with a firm shoulder, his wing flexing out for added support, "It's alright. Let me help."

Without waiting for consent, he extended his bulky wing under the other stallion's petite hooves, knocking him over onto his outstretched pinion. As though he had done this a hundred times--and, rest assured, he certainly had--he flexed his wing up and in a short slide, the stallion was now resting on his back between his wings, "Just hold tight, I'll take a look at that in a moment."

Without any further comment, he made his way to the exam room.

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"Uh, Al-...Alright then." Cross-Stitch was quite, and pretty confused. He didn't even remember how he ended up resting on Flitwink's back, the doctor obviously had a lot of experience in his field to be so on his hooves at all times.

"Thank you, Doctor Flitwink. You're too kind." He talked quietly, still unsure about the situation. He was a shy pony by nature, to be suddenly so close to a stranger was a bit unnerving, but the presence of one who was obviously skilled at his trade did bring him a bit of comfort.

Cross-Stitch decided not to think about it, but rather decided to look down the hallway as they continued to their destination. Hospitals, to be a place of healing, always seemed so gloomy to Cross-Stitch. They seemed so... Colorless, lacking, cold. He found it hard to keep his mood up between the pain in his hoof and his surroundings. He looked down at his hoof, still bandaged poorly by his own handiwork.

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Flitwink looked over his shoulder, noticing that the blue stallion was looking around, looking at the drab scenery of the floor, "I know...it's kind of.....bleh for decor, isn't it?" He chuckled softly, his voice a soft, lyrical tone, and set Cross-Stitch down on the check up table, shutting the door to the exam room behind him, "When my wife was still working here, we had flowers, and talismans from her country adorning every room at every corner.....but now I have to keep those in my veterinary clinic....they think it would be too....cumbersome for the ponies with allergies..."

He sat on his rump in front of the table, and still came up to about eye level with Cross-Stitch, who he had placed down on the table in front of him. He reached a hoof for the stallion's poorly bandaged one, and carefully, skillfully quick, began unwinding the bandaging. He looked at the reddened, swollen curve of the limb, and delicately tried to turn it in various normal angles. Seeing the pain the stallion held on his face only more assured his thoughts, "You've sprained it pretty bad."

He rose up and stalked away from the young stallion, "It's going to take a good week or more to heal....but I've got an herbal remedy here....." He pulled down a jar from one of the few cabinets in the room, and pulled the lid off with his teeth, and suddenly the air was filled with a delightful, pungently sweet odor. He inhaled deeply, and gave a sigh, pausing for a moment, remembering fondly the times he and his wife concocted such things, "....Oh, uh...sorry. Anyway, this will help dull the pain, and also speed up the healing process..."

He pulled out a small shaft of paper, and tilted the jar so it's contents--orange colored roses, crushed and dried, and a mixture of other odd-colored herbs, fell out onto the paper. He also put a small amount into one hoof, and stalked over to the stallion, reaching out the hoof, "Here. Eat this for now. I'll wrap that hoof then, and send you home with the rest of the herbs."

Smiling calmly, he looked expectantly at the stallion, hoof firmly holding out the herbs before him.

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The doctor worked quickly, which surprised Cross-Stitch, this did re-enforce what he thought earlier about this stallion being very talented in his work. It reminded Cross-Stitch of himself when he would work on clothing, rapidly moving his hooves in an almost blinding speed when he really got into his craft. He never considered what it looked like from the other side, but it was stunning to say the least.

A nagging thought kept bothering Cross-Stitch though, the doctor continuously referred to his wife in past tense. Cross-Stitch could only expect the worse had happened to her, which brought his mood even lower. He wanted to get out of this place, or at least see something happy. The air was thick with sorrow, or at least that's how he felt.

He snapped out of his trance as he saw a hoof in front of him, brandishing some herbal mix that smelt and looked pleasant. "Oh, uh... Right." He leaned forward eating the herb with a bit of fear. He never really enjoyed any kind of medicine, whether it be natural or otherwise. This was a pleasant change though! It tasted like oranges mixed with many sweets. Cross-Stitch couldn't help but to say, "Wow," as he swallowed. As he felt the herb travel down his throat, he could feel a trail of heat left behind, warming him from the inside. The pleasant feeling in itself seemed to be bringing his mood back, brightening his coat and putting a shine back in his eyes.

Cross-Stitch looked up to Flitwink as he gathered some bandages to wrap his hoof back up, "Flitwin, Oh, my apologies," He cut himself off, "Doctor Flitwink," He corrected, "If you don't mind me asking..." He rubbed his healthy hoof against the sore spot, "Whatever happened to her?... Your wife, that is." He said. He didn't really think through why he asked, but his curiosity along with his elevated mood got the best of him.

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The nurse, unamused by Frederic's request for such a potent drug, reached with her magic for a sharply needled syringe, "Please, young man, you NEED to rest--no drug--especially one as unsafe as Adderall-- is going to make up for lost sleep. " She spurted a small amount of liquid, as well as a few air bubbles, out of the syringe, "If you continue to refuse to take the pills, I'll have no choice but to use any means necessary."

She turned the needle in the air, it's sharp point aimed right at Frederic, and her face darkened, "Any. Means. Necessary."

Frederic grew pale. He hates needles. He knew he better listen to the nurse but Frederic is too afraid he would forget his ideas if he slept. "I... umm... alright... can you just give me five minutes? I'll take the pills after I'm done with this" Frederic almost said sheet music. He looked at what he's scribbling on and gave the nurse an awkward smile "umm... done with my work."

Frederic wasn't too sure if the nurse was buying it but he actually was sincere. "Just a few more minutes please" Frederic repeated as he continued to scribble on the napkin. Frederic suppressed a cough as he continued to notate on the napkin

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  • 3 weeks later...

((ooc: sorry for the delay, everypony....sorry.......sorry...))

The nurse looked on, still unamused with his antics, "I said SLEEP." Without warning, she popped the needle into his flank with a swift, fluid motion, and before he could even turn his head, the liquid sleep inside it was emptied into his veins. She magicked the needle into a needle disposal bin and walked off, leaving the stallion to fall slowly into the oblivion of forced sleep.

~~~~~~~~~

"...." Flit looked at the younger stallion long and hard, reflecting on the beloved memory of his wife. This colt reminded him of her in some small way....maybe it was their small stature. He brushed off the notion without second thought, and stated simply, solemnly, "She died."

He walked away, his expression calm as he began putting away the orange herb, "She had carried an incurable illness with her from her homeland--she was a Zebra--and she died shortly after our filly was born."

He smiled at the thought of his rough and tumble daughter, rembembering the tiny foal she once was, and the day that he had delivered her, "She was a shaman in her country, a medicine worker and a magicker....she taught me a lot about herbs....and a lot about life..."

He chuckled, remembering her playful conjures and spells, and all the magic she weilded, always in good humor, "She was quite a character. Always going on about herbs and magic...never stopped talking about her homeland, either...."

He turned away from the counter, the small package of herbs neatly tied in a tidy little package, complete with a bow on the top. It was amazing that he had such skill with his mouth. Most unicorns couldn't even tie a bow so well!

He set the package down next to Crosstitch, and grabbed his hoof, and began rebandaging the sore hoof, and hummed softly as he did it, "What about you, Cross-Stitch? I can tell by the look of your hooves--and your cutie mark, of course--that you are some kind of sewing pony....what's your story?"

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Cross-Stitch felt the air around them thicken, but the doctors laughter seemed to clear it up, allowing him the time to breathe, "Your wife sounded like an amazing person." He said, he felt a bit of sorrow for not having the chance to meet such an amazing and talented pony.

The story switched to him though, and it was his turn to tell the tale. "My story...?" He looked up to the light above them, looking past the bright bulb and into his past:

"My story started when I was young... I was born and raised in Canterlot by my mother who loved sewing... My father was an artist who traveled the world painting," Cross-Stitch laughed at this, "Good ol' dad... Nothing stopped his painting, not even us..." He meant it in good nature, but the though sent a tinge of pain up his heart, because it was true. "Mother taught me to sew, taught me to live, showed me manners and etiquette." To this day, he could remember her lessons by heart.

"She took me to a fashion show, and that's where I discovered my love for fashion." He absentmindedly put a hoof against his red scarf, the first thing he ever made, "I made this scarf, it was my first piece of clothing, and that's when I earned my cutie mark... I run a clothing store not far from here now," He began to laugh, "If only mom and dad could see it now..." He gently shook his head and his mane flowed with it, waving from side to side.

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Flitwink listened to the young stallion speak with a kind attentiveness, finishing up the mending of the stallion's limb as he spoke, finishing it up with a well-trained quick pin shut, and then gently releasing the hoof to its owner.

"Your mother sounds very kind and your father..." he smiled warmly at the younger stallion, "Well...it sounds like he had his heart in the right place. I imagine there's no other way for an artist to provide for their family other than to travel..."

He trotted away quietly, his hooves a tender clip clop as he strode away to clean up the small mess he had made with the herbs, "So...what happened to your parents?"

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His gaze fell to the floor, "Mother and father...?" He said, looking down at the shiny tile of the hospital floor.

"Father passed away some time ago to an illness. Mother passed away a few months after, they say it was due to 'heartbreak'." Cross-Stitch blinked, holding tears in. Sure, this happened a long time ago, but to even talk about re-opened old wounds. Flitwink was able to talk about his wife openly though, so Cross-Stitch should be able to talk about his losses as well, at least that's how he saw it.

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((OOC: Prepare yourselves for a postal worker delivering letters on a bad day. A bad day for her, that is.))

Pixie Parcel flew in soaked to the skin, Her mane and tail were stood on end. She was grunting under her breath. "Why would they even let a colt play with storm clouds? He thinks he's so funny... Lets electricute the postal worker and then make it rain on her! If his parents were home, he'd be getting such a telling off..." It was clear that she was having the most terrible of days. Pixie Parcel had been the victim of childish prank. It was the last she needed. The postal depot had five workers call in sick. She was taking all of their rounds, which meant she had to rush around like a maniac. Pixie loved her job, but this was all too much even for a workaholic like her. She nearly crashed on the way to several houses. This wasn't her usual route and she was far from home. Luck was on her side for that issue because she'd memorized the map. That was something she was really good at and she knew it.

She walked up to the desk; rain water dripping from her long thin legs. "The usual postal worker for around this area couldn't make it into work... So, you've got me until he can get back into work." Pixie Parcel explained. She slipped the extremely large saddle bags off her back. They landed on the floor with a thud. Pixie Parcel let out a sigh of relief. All of that weight was giving her intense back pain. It was too double the size of her own body weight. Never the less, Pixie Parcel did not complain. Instead, she opened one of the saddle bags and took out five letters. Then Pixie Parcel placed the letters on the front desk. She looked at her saddle bags and sighed. "Well, I best be off... I've got plenty more places to go to." Pixie parcel slid the saddle bags onto her back. She let out a small squeak of pain. She was in agonising pain. Pixie Parcel was also shivering as getting soaked, made her feel so very cold. "Achoo!" The pegasus sneezed. As she turned to leave, Pixie Parcel muttered to her self. "I think I've bitten off more than I can chew... This work load is going to kill me."

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  • 4 weeks later...

[[i'm going to go ahead and assume that you're referring to the front desk of the hospital, as it wouldn't make much sense if you were referring to someplace else. XD]]

The nurse at the counter, normally used to the male mail pony that came this way, took one look at the soaked, quivering mail mare before her, and dropped all the letters she had received, "Oh my poor deary! You're not going anywhere like that! You'll get sick!"

She rushed over to the pegasi and ushered her with a firm shove towards an exam room, handing her a few soft towels to dry off, "Here, dear. Now you just rest on that table--a couple ponies can go thinking they have no mail for the day. You NEED to rest! Now, dry off while you wait. The doctor will be in in a few moments."

Without letting the pegasus argue, she was out the door and politely knocked on the door that doctor Flitwink was currently in, "Doctor, you have another patient that needs to see you as soon as possible."

Flitwink looked away from the small stallion before him, an odd bit of interest piqued within him, and for a moment he wished he could have more time with the blue earth pony, "Listen, I..." he had to think of a reason quickly, "I...would love to see some of your work sometime!"

Why was he asking this? He didn't normally take an interest in patients. He'd heard whole life stories before....why was he...? "Perhaps....we could meet when the hospital is not so busy..? Maybe....maybe I could purchase something from you for my daughter--fillies can never have too many gowns, you know!"

He chuckled awkwardly, hoping he didn't sound too...brash.

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The change of tone was... Jarring, to say the lest. Cross-Stitch felt as though he had been hit in the muzzle due to the sudden shift in tone and direction of conversation.

"Uh..." He sat dumbfounded for a second, unsure of what to say or do. He shook his head clear of confusion, he realized that he needed to say something or he would sound rude. Though, he was never one to turn down a customer... He nodded, and tried to smile, "That would be lovely." His mind was churning though, why did the conversation turn so suddenly anyways? And why was Flitwink now seeming very...Off beat? "I work at 'The Perfect Fit,' it's not too far from here. Any time the hospital isn't too busy, you could drop in." He said, giving him a full smile this time.

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Flitwink immediately brightened up with a wide, beaming smile, "Great! That sounds absolutely wonderful! I'll uh...I'll try to get there as soon as I'm able...."

He nudged the small package closer to the stallion, "Do remember to take this, as I've told you, once a day until it's gone, just munch a couple leaves. And if there is exceptionally bad pain, feel free to munch a little extra--but try not to use too much..."

Flitwink nodded politely to Cross Stitch, "Well, I'll be seeing you then..." That said, he headed out the door and headed for the next room, feeling altogether rather lightheaded--though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. When he stepped into the room, he blinked a couple times as he saw a female mail pony--looking soaked to the bone, and trotted up to her, "So....what might your name be, miss?"

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Pixie Parcel sighed. Her job would never be done. But the nurse at the hospital's front desk had every right to stop the mare from leaving. She had been electricuted, was cold, exhausted and was in more pain than she'd felt in her life. "Fine... I'll stay.. A... Ah... Achoo!" She sniffled slightly. The pegasus no longer had the strength to stand. She wobbled unsteadily on her hooves. Her back felt awful. Occasionally her body would zap and crackle with an electric charge. She was still feeling the after affects of that prank with the lightning bolt. She sneezed a few more times before she fell over. The mare couldn't hide her pain anymore. She groaned in agony as the fall caused her back even more pain than it was before. Pixie Parcel looked up. She felt weak and helpless. The mare hated that feeling. She much preferred to feel as if she could help her self through every challenge that stood in her way. Howevever, this time she really had bitten off more than she could chew. Her work load had done her back in. She'd been flying for hours and had pranks pulled on her. "I just hope I don't disappoint any pony because they won't recieve their letters on time..." The mare spoke with kindness in her tone. She had good intentions but she never took care of her self. It was always work that came first. She looked at the doctor that stood before her. "I'm Pixie Parcel... Achoo!" She shivered slightly.

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Silverbolt (blue pegasus stallion, tall and lean) stumbled into the hospital, covered in bruises, bites and with one wing hanging limply at his side. The cloud bandages he had made for himself were soaked through and he thought to himself, "I can't believe I made it.". He had been out camping in the wilderness for several days until a pack of wolves attacked his encampment in the night. He managed to fight them off but they had bit his wing during the scuffle so he couldn't fly. He had walked for hours in a haze of extreme pain, remaining conscious through sheer force of will and buoyed by the belief that help was just over the horizon. "Help.... me.....", he said weakly as he collapsed from a combination of exhaustion and pain, dumping his camping equipment all over the floor. He tried to get back on his feet but it was impossible, his legs felt as if they were made of wood as he blacked out.

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