Dr. Fredricks, or, How I Learned to Start Worrying and Hate the Bomb

Aid Station

Fredricks is in the Station, cleaning up after a patient, washing his hands.

Carey makes his way into the aid station, Bible tucked in his hands. But the first thing he does is pocket it, and make his way toward the washing area to sanitize himself. "Doctor. Good evening," he says to Fredricks with a nod of his head.

Fredricks shakes his hands, and takes a towel to dry off. "Father." He says, "A good day, no deaths, only one injury, walked out of here just fine, too. "

Carey grins when he hears that, giving his head another firm nod. "Thank God for days like that, indeed. Is there anything you need a hand with? I can look in on the patients, see if any of them would like to talk, but I've some time before I need to be about that."

Fredricks shakes his head, smiling, "No thanks, Father." He says, "I'm just fine." He dries his hands, "Nothing been happening much today in these parts, anyway. Not that I'm aware of at least."

"I'll take the quiet as a blessing while I can," Carey says. He gets his big hands washed, then dries them with a handy towel. "And how are you doing this quiet day, Doctor?"

Fredricks nods "Well enough, honestly. Just mostly waiting for men to come in needing lives saved, or surgery to keep them going." He smiles, "I can handle the rest today."

Carey smiles a gruff sort of smile to Fredricks. "You seem to have done an admirable job handling this place, from what I've seen. You're not a Navy man, are you?" It's asked more out of curiousity than anything else.

Fredricks smiles, "No, actually, Civilian attachment to the first USMC here. Just some firearms training for deployment with the Marines and a 1911A1 on my hip, along with instructions to hide and run away in the face of the enemy."

"Don't see many civilians in a place like this, even since Pearl Harbor," Carey observes. He chuckles at the 'hide and run' bit. "Best advice one can give a doctor. You're duties involve saving lives, after all not taking them. How are you finding it so far? Your duties here, I mean."

Fredricks nods, and responds with, "Tiring, to be honest, Father. I've done more surgery here in the time since we've landed than my whole life before."

"I can well believe that," Carey says. "I've seen more men bleeding than I've seen in my life, I think, and I've spent a good many years in the Navy. That was during peace time, though. Everything's different now."

Woods has arrived.
Woods arrives from the East.

Fredricks nods, "Oh yes, it's all different these days." He tells Carey. "War's in full swing, and it's nothing like peace."

Annabelle was away from the station for awhile, but now returns. Her borrowed uniform has been tailored a bit so it's not quite so tent-like, but it still doesn't fit very well.

"What made you join up like this, if you don't mind my asking?" Carey asks Fredricks. He's just washed his hands and is standing near the basin, talking with Fredricks.

Woods wanders in, shell necklace in hand. He looks happy. He smiles a little. Two parrots sit atop his helmet as he wanders in. Elly and Frank begin their invasion, hopping away from Woods' helmet. They spot the Padre now. Hey wait. That's a newer one! Ah HAH! He smiles, "Hi."

Fredricks shrugs, "Pearl Harbor. Men going off to fight the Nazis, the Japs, fighting and dying. I joined because I'm a Doctor and for every one of the young men who go out, there's not enough medical men to keep them going.. There's enough reasons." He looks to Woods and the birds. He smiles, "Hi Woods."

"G'day all," Anna offers to the gathered crew, stepping over towards the doctor. The parrots get an amused look. "How's everyone?"

At dusk, Kappedal's off trench duty. After a quick stop by the HQ building he ducks into their crappy hospital, carrying an envelope cradled against his chest. His blue eyes search the room and he heads towards Anna and the doctor.

The shrill drone of the airfield's bicycle-driven air raid siren sounds from the Pagoda. The black flag is raised, and pilots outside begin scrambling for their planes. Enemy aircraft have been spotted heading this way.

Parrot to Padre aerial bombardment squad … NOW! Woods grins at Doc. "Hey…" He smiles and waves. "We're well. Figured I'd see if Austin was here," Woods looks around, hanging onto the necklace. He winces at the sound of the siren. "As if coming by land weren't enough?" Frown.

Fredricks looks up, greetings cut off by the Air Raid. He moves to start preparing the Station for action, "austin? Here and gone, he's fine and back on duty." Catch and release program.

Kappedal sucks in a breath. Man, got here just in time. The envelope's held against his chest as he crouches down by one of the crates. "Doc, Anna, get down. You don't want to get hit by nothing."

Carey nods when Fredricks mentions Pearl Harbor. "A good many felt the same. Thank God for that, I suppose. We certainly need all the help we can get right now. Good day, Privates. Mrs. Clark." Said to Kappedal, Woods and Annabelle, respectively. He trails off at the sound of the siren, however, ducking low.

Fredricks slides a tray into a drawer and closes it, then ducks, "Alright.." He says,satisfied.

Annabelle moves over to help the doctor, frowning at the siren. "Wish we knew how far away they were." She sits down beside a crate, and looks to Fredricks. "What about the injured lads?"

Woods frowns and keeps low. But there's a brief smile. "I'm glad, then," He replies to Fredricks. A nod at the Padre as the parrots squawk in alarm and duck to hide behind something, flapping along the way. Unfortunately, they've chosen Carey to hide behind. Woods hunkers down himself, almost instinctively. "I can help move someone if you need."

Fredricks nods to Annabelle, crawling, "we get them ready, check everyone and if they can be moved, get them down." He keeps moving, crouched.

Kappedal sits up on his heels by some mobile Marine's cot, reaching up to help the feverish man slide off the cot and onto the safer floor. Mm, comfy. He sighs quietly, listening to the sirens.

Annabelle nods to the doctor. She gets back up into a crouched position and moves around to help a few of the patients get down.

Carey blinks at the parrots. Well, he can cover them. He does edge up to assist in helping move the patients into cover position, muttering a soft prayer as he goes about that.

Woods will help someone move down too, offering a weak smile as he does. Woods is cautious though, he's no doctor or orderly. The parrots look scared wireless, fluffed up and hunkering near Carey for dear life. Woods frowns at the sirens after a moment.

The sound of AA fire starts up from some of the guns around the field. Badguys must be getting close.

Fredricks moves along, helping men to the ground, looking up as the AA guns go off, "Wonderful." He mutters.

Unlike Kappedal, Anna looks a bit rattled by the gunfire. The sound of guns brings back too many uncomfortable memories. She helps Woods get one guy with a head injury down into cover and then stays there by headwound guy.

«Airstrike!» A Val screams down from overhead, headed for Airstrip! (6 12)

Carey crouches by the parrots and the patients, eyes drifting upwards at the sounds of screaming planes outside. He takes a deep breath. And then…starts singing. Very softly, but it's audible. And in Latin, if one knows about such things. "~Salve Regna, Mter misericrdiae, Vta, dulcdo, et spes nstra, slve…~" He has a fairly good voice, a smooth barritone, tone a bit crisper. Perhaps due to nerves.

«Game» Carey tries to inspire the troops!

The drone of engines can be heard overhead as the enemy bombers get closer.

«Airstrike!» A Val screams down from overhead, headed for Airstrip! (6 12)

Fredricks keeps working with the patients as the sound of the planes coming in gets closer. He's not happy for any of this crap.

Woods is mostly unsure of what to think. Flying hunks of metal are still flying hunks of metal. He smiles at Anna, "Thanks-" As she helps him get the headwound guy into cover. The parrots coo in fear, still hiding behind the Father. They seem to dig the latin though, listening in. Woods is quiet for now, cautious.

«Airstrike!» Incoming!
You are the target!
«Airstrike!» A Val drops its bombs!
Kappedal suffers 8 wound damage to his right hand.
Kappedal suffers 6 wound damage to his right chest.
Kappedal suffers 2 wound damage to his left leg.
«Ground Combat» *boom* Headshot!!!

One second, Kappedal's kneeling by that soldier on the ground. The next, everything goes white as one of the bombs blows out a window and part of a wall right by where they're covering, exploding wood and glass inward. Blood flies, and so do two people, straight into the wall, his arm still wrapped in deathgrip around the envelope he'd come in here with. Oh. Ow.

Fredricks blinks. Oh crap. BOOM! He's knocked around, against a wall, rolling to his hands and knees as he looks around, they BLEW OUT PART OF THE DAMN AID STATION! Wait, Kappedals part! He shouts, "BEN!" and starts to Kappedal, grabbing a kit to start the emergency work.

Annabelle lets out a rather girly scream when the bomb lands nearby, covering her head against the flying glass and ducking down over headwound guy, trying to shield his head. The cry for Ben causes her to look up, aghast.

Carey breaks off his singing abruptly as the bombs fill the air. He gasps, face paling at the sight of what it does to the medic. He swings around, keeping low and following Fredricks over to where the young man has fallen. "My God…"

"BEN!" Woods yelps. Noooooo, not Ben! His eyes go wide. He gets showered with a bit of debris, and winces though- No! Not Ben! The parrots yell too, and go to hide, even leaving a few feathers behind in their panic. Woods whimpers. Ah geez!

Kappedal is out like a light on the ground among the shattered glass and splinters of wood and weak drywall, his right side a mess of his own blood and torn flesh. His hand is lying half-open on the ground, a letter still between his fingers. There's a blood smear on the envelope, partially obscuring the addressee. The return address is from Australia, not New York.

Fredricks isn't in shock, he's not screaming or preying, he's working. Staunching bloodflow. "Will you all stop fucking standing there, and clear a damn table, NOW!" He yells, "I have to get him back together or he's not going to make it, MOVE!"

Annabelle flinches at Fredrick's yell, but still can't bring herself to move. She sits there rather uselessly on her knees, staring at Ben's crumpled form with wide eyes. Dangerously pale, she doesn't even have the presence of mind to pray.

Carey doesn't flinch, going to work quickly enough. He continues to murmur under his breath as he strides back to ready a table. "Aye, Doctor," he says aloud. A look to Annabelle, as if about to ask her for help, but for the moment he leaves her be. Getting the task at hand out of the way first.

Woods takes a deep breath, and starts moving towards Kappedal. "Yes sir." The marine is trembling, but there's a reason they yell at them and rough 'em up in basic. Instinct kicks in when the brain is clouded with panic. Move, move, move. Woods scrambles to clear a table. He even pushes glass out of the way, "C'mon," He whispers to his shaking hands. A smile at the Padre. "I- I'll try to help or get out of the way."

If whatever God is up there had much sense of mercy, Kappedal would've stayed unconscious through all this. But, alas. He starts to cough, droplets of blood dribbling from the side of his mouth. Nothing really hurts yet, but it's uncomfortably warm. And hard to breathe, his throat trying to choke in air. "…Anna…letter."

Fredricks staunches the leg, and is far more concerned about the chest wound. As Kappedal wakes, he grabs a styrette, and injects Ben with a nice morphiene mix, "Letter, okay, sleep now, Ben. Don't talk." DRUG THE JEW!

All that and he's still thinking about Anna's letter? Aww. Unfortunately Anna is still too shocked to appreciate it just this moment. She makes it to her feet somewhat unsteadily, but still does nothing to help, standing back and just watching in horror.

"Doctor Fredricks'll likely need some help getting the corpsman to the table," Carey replies to Woods, keeping his tone as steady and calm as he can under the circumstances. It's not so difficult to get the table prepped, so he manages to finish with that without much fuss.

The Jew is drugged, well and good. Kappedal chokes a breath through his bloody teeth as his head falls back and his eyes close, his face about as white as any Aryan could've wished he were.
Woods nods, "Sure thing, Father," Woods murmurs. Still shivering. He moves to help Doc out, ando ffers quietly, "Need me to help move him or-" Or maybe help poor Annabelle? Regardless, he seems eager to try not to be underfoot. The parrots look positively mournful now, hiding under a wounded man's cot.

Fredricks keeps the pressure up. He's latched on and not going to let go. "Woods, Father, get over here, and help lift Ben to the table, Woods, on the shoulders, Father, the legs, I -HAVE- to stay on his chest. He's bleeding around shrapnel and I have to get it out before he's moved." His brain is firing in a sea of adreneline now. "Get ready to move him but -WAIT- for my signal. Do you understand?"

Carey hustles away from the table back to Kappedal's body, moving around so he can heft the medic's legs when it's time. "Understood, Doctor. On your word."

About as white as Anna's face, most likely. She's still off in her own little world over there. At least she's out of the way.

Woods nods meekly. "Yes sir," Woods moves then towards Ben's shoulder. He is still, until instructed, waiting with wide green eyes.

Fredricks nods as the men get into position. He looks to them. "Alright." He looks back to the wound, "Alright." He says again, and pulls out a dagger of metal from Kappedals chest with a wet squelching sound. a spurt of blood erupts from the ruined flesh as the metal clears meat. The spine of gleaming, blood splattered metal falls to the ground with a tinking sound and gause covers the rest of the wound, "Now. Up!" He says, moving Kappedal with the men as they lift and set Ben on the table. Once he's placed, Fredricks gets to work, ripping the clothing free of the area and he grabs instruments, getting to work on the mans chestwound.

Kappedal is happily not witness to any of this, his head and limbs lolling as deadweight as they move him up to the table. It jarrs the letter loose from his fingers, the bit of paper and addressed envelope falling to the floor and drifting to a stop.

Carey grunts and shifts his end of Kappedal up on Fredricks' work, helping to get him to the table. He steps back then, giving the doctor room to do his thing.

Woods takes a deep breath, to help lift Kappedal when instructed. Although he looks a little green at the sound and - did that just SPURT? Agh! Woods winces and looks relieved once he's set safely. "…" ? Hmm. Woods carefully picks up the letter. Peer. To Annabelle. He steps over, "This is yours." He offers it cautiously with a smile.

Fredricks gets in there properly, working steadily now, emergency surgery away! He's grim faced, and set in his determination. His work isn't pretty, but he's focused now to a razor edge.

Annabelle looks at Woods when he comes over, but her eyes don't quite focus on him. She stares blankly for a moment before it registers that he said something. "Sorry?" Eyes drift down to the letter. Eeew, Ben's blood. She looks a bit wobbly.

The letter's addressed to 'Private Binjamin Kappedal', but the postmark's Australian. And from one Dr. Bell Raine.

Woods is still for a moment, "I think this is yours, it was what Ben said anyway. From Australia?" Headtilt. Woods is patient, if a bit confused.

Carey just stands out of the way, hands laced behind his back, eyes on Kappedal. A brief look is turned to Woods and Annabelle, but it doesn't linger too long.

Fredricks frowns as he works, silent, focused. Having gotten some whole blood into Kappedal, he pulls out a few more pieces of the Station that have been lodged in Ben. He finally begins the sewing, closing the wound in a long, surgical scar. when he finally steps back, it's to grab a towel and prepare a number of injections, looking to a nurse, "Switch the IV to saline after that unit. I'm loading him with antibiotics, but keep him on a steady amount. the rest is hgoing to have to wait till his system stabalizes." He instructs, injecting Kappedal with who knows what, really.

Annabelle peers in confusion, first at Woods, then at the letter. Tentatively, she takes it with a shaking hand. "My aunt, she…" She shakes her head, blinking back tears as she shifts her gaze back to Ben. "Is he…?" She can't quite bring herself to complete that sentence.

Kappedal is still calmly out, pulse fluttering thinly at the side of his neck. Good thing the heart is on the left side, or he'd certainly have been dead before anyone realised a bomb had dropped. His dogtags are still around his neck, pushed to the side and dangling. Blood is starting to congeal in a thick streal on the embossed side, bringing out the stamped 'H' in dark red.

Woods is mostly quiet for now. He nods, "That's good to get mail-" Then a pause and he looks over his shoulder. "Not sure. Doc looks like he's working hard though. Bet he'll have Ben back to new in no time," He offers a little smile. "He helped me when they shot me in the back of the head," He has faith in Doc. "Ben wouldn't give up that easily anyway." A headshake. Beliiiiiieve Woods does. Although it is apparent despite his words, Woods is a bit worried…

Carey leaves Fredricks to his work, striding over toward Woods and Annabelle. "Are you all right, Mrs. Clark?" he asks. There is concern in his tone, though she doesn't appear to be injured. Physically, at least.

Fredricks sighs as he moves to ensure that the injured hand is wrapped carefully. He sighs, "That hand is going to take a while to heal properly, but we'll have to see how he pulls it together from here on out." He looks over to the rest of the room and nods, "I've done all I can, and I'm confident. He'll be unconscious for a while. I'll need to keep watching him for the timebeing, but I believe he'll pull through."

Annabelle wraps her arms across her chest, clutching the letter like a teddybear. She nods to Woods, but her attention is on Fredricks and his report. "Thank God," she murmurs, letting out a breath. Carey's question gets a somewhat bewildered stare. "I'm not hurt," is about all she can answer.

Carey nods slowly to Annabelle, letting out a relieved breath of his own at his report on Kappedal. "Thank God," he echoes Annabelle simply.

Woods nods. He smiles, hearing the good news. "I'm glad…" And the lapsed Anglican forgets to thank God directly, but there's a lot of implied gratitude. Pause. "Thank God," He adds after a moment. "I'll come visit him," Woods promises.

Fredricks turns, and stops, looking down. He reaches down and picks up the four inch long piece of shrapnel wickedly sharp and encrusted with dirt and blood. He turns it, looking at the metal, before he drops it into the basin with the rest of the metal pulled out of Ben, then he picks up the basin, taking it to the back, Ben will freak when he sees THAT!

You kidding? Ben's a teenage male. He'd probably keep it.

Annabelle wipes at her eyes, just nodding with the other two. She watches Fredricks wander over to the basin, saying nothing.

Woods blinks, at the piece of metal. "Whoa." Ben might think /that/ is awesome and scary. Just the sort of thing young dudes do. He goes quiet, then.

Fredricks sets the basin to where the metal won't just be tossed. He'll present it to Ben at a later date. He moves back, dragging a chair with him and looks around, "We seem to have gotten all the wounded, yes? No others? We cn start cleaning up the Station?"

Carey doesn't seem to notice Woods' pause. He certainly wasn't waiting for him to thank God or such things. "I'll keep him in my prayers tonight," he says. The remark is more to himself than the others.

Woods points to the wounded man near where Ben was, "I think he's kind of hurt." Sadly, Woods is no medic. If the malaria guy is alive at all, that is. "I'll help clean before I get back I guess."

Fredricks moves to look at the man. It's brief. He swallows, "Father. this one's for you." He says, rising, with the mans dogtags in one hand.

Annabelle looks crushed at the news that malariadude is toast. She makes a beeline for the door of the aid station without a word to anyone, letter still clutched to her chest.

Kappedal is crushed, too. Literally. He might be emotionally so when he wakes up later.

Carey's expression goes very somber, but he nods to Fredricks. He knows what to do. All too well, sadly. He goes to kneel next to the dead man. A look down at his dog tags. He nods to himself, bowing his head. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul…"

Fredricks lets the Priest handle MalariadudeDEAD and moves to check Kappedal once more before nodding to the other medics and nurses to let them begin the returning of the Aid Station into something resembling an Aid Station and not a missile testing grounds.

Woods frowns. Oh dear. Woods looks a bit pained. Should he have pointed it out? His green eyes are wide, watering a bit. He is pretty sure he knew Malariadude at one point. Didn't seem like a bad guy. He opens his mouth as Annabell leaves. "I- I'll check on her later," He whispers. Best to let her have some alone time. Woods will help sweep up glass, trying not to listen to the last rites knowing well his could be /next/.

The Aid Station looks like it got hit by a bomb. Mostly because it JUST GOT HIT BY A BOMB! there's a large hole in one wall and people swarming around, working on cleaning and repairing the place, annabelle just came out of it, clutching a bloody paper object in one hand, Woods is inside cleaning up, Carey is giving last rites to a corpse and Fredricks is sitting beside a cot with a mostly dead <not all dead> Kappedal in the bed, slowly recovering from emergency surgery.

Kappedal lies peacefully. Pallid-ly, but peacefully, registering sounds here and there but not really movements or comings and goings. His chest is still bandaged, his breathing shallow enough that it doesn't even move the sheet lying over him. That right hand is mummified. When his eyes finally do open again they kind of unglue rather than 'open', heavy-lidded from the morphine. They roll, unfocused, towards the closest sound without really processing it. Carey, mumbling prayers.

Carey remains with the dying man, his hands on the poor patient's broken body. "…Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me…Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me…Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies…Thou annointest my head with oil. My cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever." When he finishes he lets out a long, slow exhale, bowing his head even furter, closing his eyes.

Fredricks tilts his head leaning forward, "Ben." He says, clearly, to draw the mans attention, "Ben, can you hear me?"

Annabelle exits the aid station in a rush, looking decidedly upset. Her path is aimless, just getting away from the carnage. Ground crews bustle about taking stock of the damage. A few come over to see if anyone in the aid station needs help.

Woods is helping with clean up. Woods is sweeping for now, as glass on the ground is cuts and tetanus waiting to happen. The sound of a broom and glass softly clinking is part of the background noise. He pauses, hearing Fredricks speak to Ben. Is he awake? Woods stops in his duties for a moment, to look over. There's a few red and blue feathers on the ground, but eventually two birdy heads poke out from beneath a cot. They are trembling and puffed up, cautiously walking out. Elly and Frank seem to be in decent shape though, if spooked.

«Game» It is now dawn.

Kappedal's eyes seems fixed on Carey, in their unfocused way. They roll towards Fredricks when he hears his name, gummy lashes blinking. "Vos? A bisl," he mumbles back to the doctor.

Fredricks nods to Kappedal, "It's okay, Ben, you've been injured, but you'll recover. do you understand?" He asks, speaking slowly and clearly, watching him carefully.

Carey doesn't notice he's being watched until he looks up, eyes meeting Kappedal's briefly. His expression is very sad, all traces of that dry humor that usually marks him gone. He then straightens, laying the dead man out in some appearance of comfort. He'll assist the orderlies in getting him properly put away when the time comes.

Poor Frank, he is missing a feather or two, and his immacuately clean coat of feathers is tarnished by sot and dirt. He hobbles a bit forward, favoring one foot over the other it seems, he has a booboo! MEDIC!

"Ikh fli krank…" Kappedal informs Fredricks, the words all mushy. It sounds almost German, and it takes him quite a while to process that he's doin' it rong. "Ikh…I…yes." He has to stop to swallow, morphine make his mouth all cottony. "What happen?"

Fredricks nods, and in a soothing, calm tone, "We got hit by a bomb. You got hit. You're going to be okay. you were injured in the chest, and in your hand You're taken care of for the moment, but you need to rest and heal, okay?" He smiles, "you're going to be fine."

Woods blinks, then smiles. Ben's talking! Woods looks like a 20ton anvil was pulled off his shoulders. He resumes sweeping slowly, but he's listening. "Yeah…" He murmurs. Then he looks to Frank and his eyes widen. "Aww, c'mere Frank, little buddy," He offers to the poor birdie.

Kappedal might not be processing all that, hard to tell. One eyelid's drifted further shut than the other. Mmmmorphine. Bomb, though, he got that part. His body confirms that, emphatically. "Much peoples hurt?"

Fredricks shrugs, "You, one other guy. You just rest for now, alright? you need to heal up. We've got it all under control."

Poor little Franks. He hobbles towards Woods, pausing as he sees ONE OF HIS feathers lying before him. He tilts forward, putting his beak to the ground as he stares at that lonely little feather. That feather had a wife and family to provide for! IT WASN'T HIS TIME! Oh if only parrots could talk.

"Gud." If Kappedal could smile normally he would, but half his face forgets to move, and his lips just draw back from his teeth in a weird way. His left hand fingers move, tips scraping each other. "The letter…it of Anna."

Fredricks blinks, then nods, "Oh, yes, the letter. Ms. Clark got it." covered in your blood, but he'll skip that part. "Don't worry, she has the letter, just fine."

Woods smiles at Franks' melodrama. Daw. He reaches over to gently, comfortingly scritch Frank's head. "Aww… It's ok little buddy." He looks for Elly too, who is wide-eyed. She eventually peeps out, getting a soft hello from Woods. "C'mon you two, let's look at cha and get this place cleaned huh?" He smiles, hearing Ben too.

Franks gives his lost feather a painful last look before turning to Woods. He hobbles forward, waiting for the man to lean down and offer a hand for him to clamber and perch upon, letting himself be carried. Ellys! Oh dear sweet Ellys! He warbles a bit, if anything to perhaps cheer his mate up.
"O-kei." Kappedal clears his scratchy throat, letting his eyes shut with tension at the corners. His lower teeth stayed pressed up against the upper ones. He can probably hear the sounds continuing around him, but no more talking from him for now.

Fredricks nods, still watching Ben carefully to make sure he's relaxing and doesn't need any more happy drugs.

Woods smiles, and leans down to let Frank up then. Elly seems slower to bounce back and prefers to clamber at her own pace. She offers a quiet, "Mazel tov?" Over at Ben. Daw. Is one of their flock down? Woods will make sure neither gets underfoot and Frank is in a good spot to be carried. "Gotta finish cleaning," He murmurs, sweeping up more of the glass.

Frank finds a perch on Wood's shoulder, looking quite puffed and flustered, almost as bad as the cartoon where the bird gets zapped and is left entirely naked and blinking like an owl.

Woods murmurs softly to the birds, "Don't wake Ben now…" Although the Mazel Tov provokes a grin. Back to cleaning with Woods. He moves shards to be disposed of safely, but largely seems relegated to sweeping.

Fredricks straightens nodding to himself as Ben relaxes and he rubs his face. Okay.
Franks cannot resist, fluffing up a bit and squawking a cute, yet horrible impression, "BOOM!"
Woods winces, but smiles. Cute. But terrifying. He scritches Frank's little chest and sets back to work. "Sssh…" And Woods will fade quietly into the background and fuss of cleanup.

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