The Hatching of Gold Herath and Bronze Talibenth's Clutch
PernMUSH, January 29, 1999
The World of Pern is
copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a
registered copyright.
You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles,
cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully.
Kvasith flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
Aurian slides off Kvasith after unfastening her riding straps. She lands
neatly on her feet this time.
Aurian scritches Kvasith as she slides off quickly, "So much for gather
finery."
Kassima slides down from Lysseth's neck, with a bit more care for her kilt
than she showed in mounting the dragon. "Marks say the first t'hatch is
either blue or green, preferrably green!" is her hail of the others.
Aurian waggles her fist, "Already wagered on the green."
Sharath flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
Juliath flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
Meli slips smoothly down from Juliath's neck to her foreleg and to the
ground, giving her a gentle caress.
Sharath touches down as lightly as a narrow-built dragon can, furling his
wings and craning his head for the sight of -- a-ha! He slides towards
Lysseth with eyes bluely a-whirl.
E'vrin slides down Sharath's shoulder and foreleg.
Keriann hops down Nyth's side to the ground, as the dragon rumbles softly.
Aurian waves to the arriving riders and calls a greeting towards the Igen
bronzerider, "Telgar's duties."
E'vrin frees an arm from his voluminous dark cloak to wave back at the
brown rider, returning greeting in full. Then he tugs the cloak self-
consciously back around his body and begins to sidle through the crowd,
nodding and smiling.
Kassima grumps, "How come *everyone* seems t'be wagering on green this
time? Aside from that 'tis the logical choice, a'course--E'vrin! Sharath!"
Lysseth echoes her rider's greeting, breaking off deep-throated contralto
thrum long enough to warble to bronze and rider. "Come sit with us? The
dragons just started humming a few minutes agone!"
Meli drops off Juliath's side, kilt flapping slightly as she does so.
"Evenin'..." she calls over the general humming. "Start yet? I was
finishin' sweeps when I got th'word. Barely had time t'change."
E'vrin says "...Coming, coming." His voice drops when he's by the
wingleader. "You're right about wearing a kilt on dragonback, by the way.
Is there room? Thanks."
K'tyn nods greetings as folk and dragons arrive, but for the most part, he
seems preoccupied. Why? He's found that list!
L'mis sits and grumps a bit in his seat, but he does look up and smile
just slightly as one of the older Telgar brownriders walks by.
Fialth flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
Ularrith flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
M'rgan climbs down Ularrith's side to the ground, as the dragon rumbles
softly.
Kassima assures, with a grin flicked to Meli also, "There's plenty of room
yet. Virtue of being early! And you wore the kilt!" My, she *does* look
pleased. "Kilts are excellent luck at Hatchings." She is, of course,
wearing her own.
Aurian bounces up on her toes like a little, "Ugh.. why is it taking so
long."
Meli plucks an imaginary bit of lint off her own tartan. "Ayeh, always
wear it t'hatchings, if there's time t'change." She nods to the others,
finding a free seat. "Who's brought th'wine?"
Azeth flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
E'vrin is still self-conscious of his, while peeking at Meli's then
Kassima's for comparison. He floofs out his cloak in perching by the
latter woman, comfortably close to her side. "...Wine? Oh, you folks do
know how to host a Hatching, don't you?"
N'kshar slides down Azeth's side with the help of her extended forelimb,
and gives the dragon an affectionate thump on the side.
Olynth flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
Kylandra vaults down Fialth's side to the ground, using his foreleg as a
step.
C'lus hops down Olynth's side to the ground, as the dragon warbles a
greeting.
Kassima replies, with some regret, "Nay me. I'll only be handling wagers
this time, nay alcohol. So! Anyone willing t'bet *against* green first?"
After presenting E'vrin with a quick hug and cheek-kiss, she replies
impishly, "A'course. Wine, gambling--all the ingrediants of debauchery are
here. Hey, Kylandra, Nikh!" she calls to her arriving Wingmates.
Wroxath flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
T'garrick mutters, "Kilts are chilly in twelthmonth."
D'thon slides off Wroxath's back to the ground, landing lightly.
Kylandra waves a greeting to Kassima before settling down between Fialth's
forelegs to watch the hatching.
Kassima replies pragmatically enough to T'garrick, "But good luck. Isn't
good luck at a Hatching worth a bit of chill?"
Meli's lips curl in a wry grin at T'gar's comment. "Yeh, but we're hardy,
an' it /is/ good luck. An' I'll warm m'self with wine, f'someone could
only find th'skin!"
Sharath slides, still humming lightly, around to lend his rider a loop of
tail for warmth and support. E'vrin pats the hide with an absent hand,
leans forward to peer down at the sands. He's braced by that tail /and/ an
arm around Kassima's waist, after all.
N'kshar grins as his name's called, and he approaches Kassi. "Heya there,
Wingleader 'o mine." He says with another slight grin.
D'thon dismounts from Wroxath's back, having deposited his passenger
safely. The blue dragon sits down with a thump.
Aurian leans back against Kvasith, "Why is it taking soooooooo long."
Prometh has been rumbling deeply -- and continues to do so, the sound
growing louder as the eggs on the sands move ever so slightly. K'tyn
frowns, looking up. "Shards," he sighs. "Forgot where I was. Hey, all."
Kassima darts a grin up at N'kshar, along with a wink. "I suppose you're
betting green-first too?" she wonders, sounding amusedly resigned. "Seems
t'be a popular choice." Lowering her voice, she remarks to E'vrin, "That
kilt really does suit you, y'know." As if she'd say otherwise, when kilts
are involved.
From the hatching sands, Kindre emerges from the candidate barracks.
Kvasith humms and humms. He's probably going to hum himself raw.
Ashroth flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn emerges from the candidate barracks.
Wroxath , lately-returned, takes the opportunity to start humming again.
Aurian beams down at M'hryn as she sees him on the sands, "He looks good."
E'vrin replies with suitable modesty, "It matches my knot, anyway. I
thought I'd honor you by wearing it." A slanted glance. "How's Kris?"
T'bin lands on Kassima's side of the ledge, and charges into the betting
with appropriate abandon.
N'kshar nods his head a few times in agreement to Kassima. "Of course." He
states, his gaze sweeping across the Sands quickly. "So, other than green-
first, what bets are already running?" He asks, raising an eyebrow
slightly.
From the hatching sands, Kindre comes sprinting onto the sands, shoving
her shoulder into a sleeve as she half-skips, half-runs to be by Herath's
side. "Faranth's whispy ghost, dearheart, do you always have to wait to do
this until I'm in a bath," she remarks and hides a chuckle. Herath hums
loud enough that she likely can't hear her mate. Not that she'd listen to
much now, it would seem.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn takes a deep breath as he steps out onto
the Sands and chuckles as he looks up at his bronze, who is busily pushing
the Impetuous Icy Inferno Egg out of the mound of sand he'd spent the past
couple sevendays burying it with.
M'rgan gives his lifemate's eyeridge a quick scritch before stepping away
and creeping up to the edge of the ledge. He nods to himself as he peers
down at the Sands. "I only saw one egg move."
K'tyn grins at this comment. "They all look good, Aurian. It's just how it
is. Kindre is radiant. And look at Herath!"
Aurian glances towards the Weyrwoman and the senior gold, "Well uh yeah.."
but her eyes drift back to her weyrmate.
D'thon hmm's to himself, with a quick glance to the Sands. Then, he turns
back to listen to the betting (in usual fashion) quietly.
Kassima grins at E'vrin, tucking her cheek against his shoulder for a
moment. "Well, consider me honored. He's been well--nay anywhere near
sleeping through the night, so here's hoping I don't conk out and fall
right off the ledge, hmm? But bigger and bonnier every day." To her fellow
wagerers, she calls, "Bets are running on specific eggs, color layout, and
Impressions, a'course! Never too late t'join the pool; odds so far are
decidedly on green-first." Ah, the call of the bookie.
From the hatching sands, Kindre seems to finally arrange her clothes into
place and garnishes the galleries with a nervous smile. Turning to M'hryn,
she says, "I'll never get used to this," and grins.
Penath flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
On Penath's ember bronze neck, Ryglenn loosens his coat at the collar
slightly and smiles at the view.
E'vrin stays well clear of the call, too; no fool, he, her lover he might
be. "Good, good, and you know I'd try to catch you if you fell. Are there
any favorites among the Candidates for particular Impressions?" he wonders
at large. "I liked Trilana when I met her."
On Penath, T'vor unstraps, and dismounts.
Aurian murmurs under her breath as she hears that, "They always say that."
T'vor nimbly slides out of his seat on Penath's neck, using a thoughtfully
extended and lowered forelimb to land gently on the ground.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn smiles at Kindre. "And you've done this
more than I," he replies, turning to look up at Talibenth and Herath. He
takes another deep breath and smooths out his shirt. More of a nervous
gesture than from any need to do actually smooth it.
Dyane uses Penath's lowered foreleg to assist herself in getting down. She
joins you on the ground.
Ryglenn uses Penath's lowered foreleg to assist himself in getting down.
He joins you on the ground.
Kassima remarks thoughtfully, "I'd wager heavily on Saskia Impressing, but
Faranth alone knows what. Lyss doesn't seem t'Search for any particular
color over another. Trilana... hmm. She'll Impress, though her odds don't
stick out in m'mind as particularly high or low." A moment's rummaging
frees a long, scrawl-laden roll of hide from her satchel. "About even,"
she reports after a quick check. "And thankee for that! Whatever would I
do without you around?" she wonders, half-tease and half-sincere.
From Penath's neckridge, Anselm raises both of his ebon eyebrows, peering
even more intently at the ledges. "Is this going to be an...apropriate
place for children?" Heblinks as Drama murmurs to him, then shakes his
head at the girl. Dont' worry. I'll keep you safe."
Astride Penath, Anselm says "Now hop down?"
From the hatching sands, Nimiriel emerges from the candidate barracks.
T'vor smiles up at Anselm, "Most of these lot are good folk." He reaches
up to help Anselm with Drama.
Kassima blinks, then shakes her head. "Syrali, I meant. Though Saskia's an
excellent bet, too--I'd say t'brown, though she didn't Impress last time
she stood. We'll have t'be seeing."
Drama uses Penath's lowered foreleg to assist herself in getting down. She
joins you on the ground.
From the hatching sands, Reed emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Ryen emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn emerges from the candidate barracks.
Dyane murmurs her duties from Boll and looks around, standing near the
Fort Weyrleader.
From the hatching sands, Trilana emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon emerges from the candidate barracks.
Penath warbles in greeting to assorted dragons.
From the hatching sands, Ceria emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Daffela emerges from the candidate barracks.
On Penath, Anselm nods a polite thank you to T'vor, then hops down
himself.
From the hatching sands, Annie emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Saskia emerges from the candidate barracks.
E'vrin assures Kassima, "You'd waste into a mere shell of a woman without
me around, or at least be counted Ushu's murderer -- oh, look, there they
are!"
From the hatching sands, Pakse emerges from the candidate barracks.
Anselm uses Penath's lowered foreleg to assist himself in getting down. He
joins you on the ground.
From the hatching sands, Myklan emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Syrali emerges from the candidate barracks.
K'tyn offers a salute to the Fortian Weyrleader and his guests,
respectfully calling out his dutie-- they get cut short, though as the
candidates flow onto the sands.
From the hatching sands, Leigh emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Bronwynn emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Meara emerges from the candidate barracks.
Drama clutches Anselm's hand, searching out Rygleen's also.
T'vor points out a contingent of Fort riders to Dyana and company, "You'll
be more than welcome. . ." He turns to the entrance and watches as the
Candidates arrive.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa emerges from the candidate barracks.
Wroxath inclines his neck to get a closer look at the Boll contingent.
Abruptly, D'thon (his rider) glances down towards the Sands with an
almost-similar movement. "They're arriving," he notes to those nearer his
side of the ledges.
From the hatching sands, Trilana slips out into the sands, grabbing
Rillanon's hand tightly. She drops it momentarily, bowing reverently,
almost, to Herath and Talibenth. "Thank you," she tells them. "Thank you
for letting us here. And for your marvelous eggs," she says again,
blushing as her statement is incoherent and silly.
From the hatching sands, Reed enters behind the goldrider and turns
towards the Weyrleaders. M'hryn and Kindre both recieve a bow, as do the
dam and sire of the clutch. Slowly and carefully he skips over to take his
place around the eggs.
N'kshar mutters something under his breath about how he always ends up
losing money whenever he bets on Hatchings. Of course, that never stops
him. He considers the eggs down on the Sands. "I'll bet Syrali gets the
gold." He states, to nobody in particular.
From the hatching sands, Herath is pacing back and forth, her head
swinging dramatically with each step. When the Candidates begin to
assemble, she huffs grumpily at them. "Love, quit it...once they hatch
they're not you eggs any longer," Kindre scolds her mate quietly. The gold
is not pacified, apparently, and croons at Talibenth as if asking for back
up. "The two of them are truly too much, Maen," Kindre remarks quietly to
the Weyrleader before nodding to the Candidates and Staff herself.
Anselm holds Drama's hand after getting, down, finding a fairly open and
quiet spot--as quiet as it can be, for he and the girl to sit.He points
and squeals excitedly in his prepubescent voice, "And there is Annie! Do
you see her!" His face flushes with pride.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon bows quickly to the gold and bronze,
taking her place by Trilana, and holding out her hand to Meara, "Come and
hold my other hand, Meara!"
From the hatching sands, As the Candidates appear on the sands, they bow,
almost in an orchestrated manner, to Herath and Talibeth and their riders,
then do as Candidates have done for Turns, ranging themselves along in a
loose semi-circle in expectation of the hatchings to come.
Ryglenn looks down and smiles as Drama takes his hand, then turns to watch
the candidates arrive.
Kassima leans forward to see for herself, wager-hide momentarily
forgotten. "Ooh!" she oohs. "Then the eggs should get down t'business
soon! Put your marks where your mouth is, Nikh, though I'd nay mind seeing
that m'self. Or brown. Brown might suit her."
From the hatching sands, Maylia emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, D'ton emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, M'kla emerges from the candidate barracks.
Kassima then takes a moment to elbow E'vrin's ribs. "Now, now. D'you think
I could *really* kill a man?"
From the hatching sands, Meara enters to the back of some of the other
candidates, but quickly bows to both dam and sire, eyes flickering over
the trembling eggs, and then steps into the circle next to Rillanon,
taking the other candidates hand with a grin at the girl.
T'vor waves to K'tyn, returning the salute. He makes his way towards the
Telgar wingleader.
From the hatching sands, Syrali sticks near Thaelon, her back rod-
straight, her teeth clenched so hard the muscles in her jaw jump with the
tension. She takes a sharp breath, letting it out much more slowly, and
squeezes her partner's hand, whispering, "G'luck, Thae..."
From the hatching sands, The urgent, hungry cries of a blue and a green
hatchling echoes across the Sands as the two of them move in completely
opposite directions from one another. On the edge of the Sands lies the
intertwined remains of their eggs, giving the appearance of a thunderstorm
over the MasterBeastHall as the eggs in their pre-Hatching form were the
Thundercloud Azure Egg and the Bewildering Beastial Beauty Egg.
Appropriately enough the blue hatchling finds a StarCraft apprentice
posted to Keroon as his mate while the jade green chooses a young man from
a beasthold near the StarCraftHall.
From the hatching sands, Trilana's hand is shaking as she grips
Rillanon's. "Okay. Good luck," she tells Rillanon.
From the hatching sands, Leigh glances first towards the galleries, even
before bowing. Her lips purse at what she sees or doesn't see as icy blue
eyes breeze over the assemblage of people, then abandon the search. She
faces the Weyrleaders and their dragons and bows as instructed.
Dyane smiles at hearing Kassima, then calls out. "Y'could, Kassi." She
grins at the woman.
From the hatching sands, Talibenth rumbles at Herath, as he pushes the icy
inferno egg down the small hillock it is upon with his muzzle, as if
trying to push it towards the white robed people down there. He completely
ignores their bow, but stops his efforts as Herath croons and turns to
look at her. M'hryn laughs quietly at Kindre. "They are," he smiles before
acknowledging the bow of the Candidates with a nod of his head.
From the hatching sands, Daffela looks up fromt he eggs for amoment, eyes
seekign desperately through the galleries and dragon ledges. Neither one
shows what she's looking for and she looks back down with a gulp, her face
paler than usual and almost matching her robe."
From the hatching sands, Gaivn's cheeks bulge as he runs his tongue inside
them, hoarding all the moisture he can in this hot, dry cavern. Once he
manages to straighten up from the bow, he follows Thaelon into line,
nodding at Syrali on the holder's other side.
From the hatching sands, Pakse steps into the circle, giving Brynn a tight
smile.
From the hatching sands, Annie swallows softly, doing the customary bow to
dam and sire of the clutch, as well as each respective mate. Her eyes look
up into the stands, looking ... searching... and there they are. She gives
a small girl, a steward and an uncle a waning smile.
From the hatching sands, M'kla heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
N'kshar grins as his gaze sweeps towards Kassi. "Alright then." He says,
digging around in his pocket. "How many marks do you want to lose
tonight?"
From the hatching sands, Squeezing the candidates hand in return he
murmurs, "You to Syr. And Gaivn." as he slides in between the two in the
ever increasing circle about the eggs.
From the hatching sands, M'kla emerges from the candidate barracks.
From the hatching sands, Saskia glances nervously at Herath and Talibenth
and hovers near Leigh. "So it begins." and blinks a bit at the blue and
green. "That was quicker than I remember."
From the hatching sands, Trilana blinks. "First Impressions, already," she
murmurs, hand tightening convulsively around Rilla's. "Crazy."
E'vrin grunts, eyeing Kassima decided askance. "Maybe you'd have to get in
line, for that poor healer." Happily, the noises on the sands distract
him -- can't murder and mayhem ever wait? -- and he leans forward anew to
see. Impression!
From the hatching sands, Gaudy Gladsome Gypsy Egg wobbles back and forth,
the motions of the inhabitant inside the shell causing the ovoid to tumble
from its little perch of sand and roll some meters from where it was.
From the hatching sands, Syrali grins weakly to Gaivn. "You, too," she
manages, then tugs her hand free to wipe both off on her robe before
offering it back. "Oh, Faranth... there they go."
From the hatching sands, Ryen starts to occasionally lift one foot up,
then the other as he watches nervously. He looks over to Thaelon and
grins. "Nice robe." he says trying to keep his nerves down.
Drama bounces, "There she is! There she is!" She'd point, but each hand is
clenching a mans. She takes turns looking up from one to the other. "Can
you see her?"
From the hatching sands, Ceria stands in a small group of candidates but
doesn't touch any of them, instead clutching a bit nervously at her robe
as she glances around. Her green eyes are wide and excited.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa gives Kindre and M'hryn respectful nods
that echo the affection and admiration for the gold and bronze, then she
steps away from the Candidates toward the other riders, hands swinging
loosely at her side.
Aurian says "Oh shards there goes a quarter mark as the blue impresses."
From the hatching sands, Trilana's eyes dart towards the wobbling egg.
"Rillanon? Is it just me or did that egg just.... move?"
Ryglenn chuckles and nod to Drama, "Yes, dear, I see her..and she saw
us."
Anselm sighs deeply, affected by something very specfic, from the mixture
of sadness and contentment in his eyes. He squeezes Drama's hand, nodding,
mostly to himself. "Yes, there she is," he says very quietly.
Kassima makes a quick face at Lady Dy. "All right, so I *could*, but can't
we at least pretend I couldn't?" A grin and wink are given to the Lady
Holder, before she shouts out, "Blue *and* green! Shardit. How d'you count
that? Nikh, you're the one making the bet; you call the marks. How many
d'you have t'risk?" Eyelashes are fluttered then at E'vrin. "Oh, I think I
could bribe 'em t'let me do the deed."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon holds her two hands hard, her eyes
welling up with tears. "So beautiful1" She whispers. She glances at teh
egg Tril points out and frowns, "Not sure. Meara? Did it move?"
From the hatching sands, Myklan shuffles almost absently, watching the
eggs hatch with a detatched, almost emotionless blankness. One hand
brushes dampening hair out of his eyes...he looks scared silly, to anyone
with eyes.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn smiles as the blue and green Impress.
"Well, that's a half-mark lost," he says quietly.
From the hatching sands, Meara wipes her spare hand across her brow, even
though no sweat beads there yet, more raw emotion that seems to be leaking
through. She glances quickly to the egg that just wobbled, and flinches a
little at its near proximity. The same hand that wiped her brow tugs the
hem of her robe as she looks over and nods to Rillanon, "Sure did.
Sharding close as well."
E'vrin relents with a laugh and nudges her ribs back. "Just watch the fun,
Kassi, and count up your winnings, hmm?"
From the hatching sands, Reed slits his eyes and glares at a few of the
moving eggs. Why? No one knows. He just shifts back and forth to relieve
one heated foot, then the other, occasionally nodding to fellow candidates
as he overhears whispers.
From the hatching sands, Ryen eyes widen as he watches the egg wobble. "It
did move... it did."
Dyane laughs, nodding to Kassima. "Oh, of course." She goes to stand next
to the Boll contingent to watch the Bollian candidates.
From the hatching sands, Silen scurries out, bowing to the candidates and
finding his place, wringing his hands nervously as he watches the eggs.
T'vor makes his way over towards the Fort contingent; standing close by
Lady Dyane.
From the hatching sands, Maylia strides out onto the sands, following the
last straggling candidates. A bow of respect is given to the Weyrleaders,
then quickly heads towards the first impressions of the evening.
From the hatching sands, Nimiriel smiles, nodding respectfully to both
M'hryn and Kindre, and joins Alyssa.
From the hatching sands, Daffela can't watch them all. Pity that she
tries, amber gaze flicking from one to the nezt in a nervous pattern.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon shivers, even with the intense heat,
"How wonderful, and horrible...OH its scary!" She moves her feat up and
down, trying to let them cool down a little.
From the hatching sands, Mellany is holding onto the hand of a small
blonde Bitran lass, her eyes wide as the eggs actually -move- of their own
accord!
From the hatching sands, Gaivn knuckles his eyes at the sight. "You called
it, Syr," he agrees before he glances away, up to the galleries where
herders just might sit and the ledges where Meli and her Juliath just
might perch, if the air weren't so heat-hazy between him and them to see.
From the hatching sands, Trilana has a trick. She's walking aloing with
her feet curled so that just her toes and her heels are on the sands.
"Think of cold things," she says, wincing as she can't curl her feet like
that for long.
From the hatching sands, Ceria edges across the sands, somehow once more
ending up near Daffela. "Everything happens so quickly," she murmurs.
From the hatching sands, Rumpled Sleeping Pallet Egg squirms on the Sands,
burying itself deeper instead of digging its way out.
D'thon wanders over to perch on Wroxath's foreclaw, watching the sands
intently.
From the hatching sands, Leigh is unusually well groomed for a candidate,
hair neat and demeanor calm; yet somehow without her expressing it, an
aura of dread surrounds the redhead, heightening as eggs wobble and crack
and Impressions are made.
From the hatching sands, Kindre gives Alyssa a smile that seems to say,
"This again," and then winks before her widening eyes feather across the
wobbling eggs and Impressions.
From the hatching sands, D'ton quickly intercepts the Weyr's newest
greenrider and begins guiding the pair off the sands.
Dyane takes a moment to smile at T'vor as he approaches before her eyes
return to the sands.
Meli finally retrieves a skin of Benden Red, taking a long sip before
passing it along. "Mmm, I'm goin' t'get all nostalgic..."
From the hatching sands, A teal blue muzzle pointing to the ceiling of the
Hatching Cavern through a single hole in a distinctly pink shell is the
first sign that the Exceptional Egotistical Egg has cracked. Deliberate
movements of the blue dragonet burst the remainder of the shell, with each
of the pink fragments falling to the Sands. A large shard, pink swirled
with purple occupies the blue's attention, and he brings it along with him
speared on still-soft talons, surprising the dandy into whose solar plexus
the shard-encrusted talons are jabbed. Anxious crooning follows
immediately, and the uninjured young man assures his lifemate, "As long as
we're together."
Anselm pats Drama gently, "Look," his voice is /so/ quiet it is almost
hard to hear him in the din of the excitement. "See the beautiful colors?
What color do you think Annie should have?"
From the hatching sands, "C-called what?" Syrali swallows again, licking
dry lips and shifting from one foot to the other. She darts a nervous look
at the nearest of the twitching eggs, and another to the hatchlings
already broken free.
From the hatching sands, Gaudy Gladsome Gypsy Egg wriggles in the sand
where it lies, narrow end angled toward the floor. The tapping inside
sounds louder, more frantic.
From the hatching sands, Daffela bite sher lip again and glances sideways
at Ceria, almost in relief for someone to take her attention away from the
happening in front of her. "Very quickly." she agrees, shifting uneasily
as her feet heat form the sands.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon breathes out a sigh, watching Tril's
feet and doing the same. She watches the next egg and Impression and lets
out a cry of amaxement, "He's beautiful!"
From the hatching sands, Reed laces his fingers together behind his back.
All that effort put forth not to sweat in the barracks is lost on the
sands, persperation trickling down his forehead. The first few impressions
only cause him to react with little jumps until someone says something.
From the hatching sands, M'kla heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
From the hatching sands, Ceria draws in her breath sharply as the blue
hatches and Impresses nearby. Then she points to the Gaudy egg. "It's
moving," she says, stating the obvious quite well.
From the hatching sands, Trilana gulps. "Shards," she says softly, nails
digging into Rilla's hand as she watches the Impression. "Ow!" she hisses
suddenly, hopping up and down. And then the Gaudy egg is blinked out.
"Yes. That's definitely moving."
From the hatching sands, Thaelon's eyes scan the mound of eggs, stopping
occasionally as a wiggle or tremor comes over an egg. He steps lightly
from foot to foot trying to see everything at once.
From the hatching sands, Annie lifts one foot, then the other, her summer
blue eyes watching the quick pairings. "So... /fast/. I didn't know it
happened so fast." Her voice is shakey, soft, and choked with emotion.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn twists his attention back. "Them. Did you
hear that? Together. Th-the boy sai. ...Stop that, I didn't s-stammer
before you did."
From the hatching sands, Bronwynn shifts her weight to one foot, placing
the other one on top of the first. Her eyes widen at the dragonet, "That's
a little bigger than I had expected," she mumbles to herself.
From the hatching sands, Ryen swallows hard watching the hatching... "Its
happening... oh boy... oh boy..."
From the hatching sands, Silen is watching the Impressions with wide eyes
and an unusually calm look. "Wow."
From the hatching sands, Syrali says, "S-sorry," with a too-high-pitched
giggle, shuffling again. "Ow-ww."
From the hatching sands, Maylia hastens around the ring of candidates, her
feet blessedly protected from the heat of the sands by thick boots, unlike
those of the candidates. Following the motions of the teal blue, she's
close at hand when he finally impresses. The new pair are led from the
sands at the slow, awkward pace of the dragonet.
From the hatching sands, Myklan shuffles in silent contrast to many of his
fellows, just brushing that one misbehaving lock out of his eyes over and
over. The eggs are watched...as are hatchlings, finding lifemate after
lifemate.
Kassima laughs and snuggles closer to the bronzerider--for warmth, of
course. Certainly not to nauseate anyone. "If'n I win enough," she
promises, impulsively, "I'll buy you an island." That said, she's content
to quiet down a touch, though she wrinkles her nose at the Hatching of a
blue from that particular egg.
From the hatching sands, Rumpled Sleeping Pallet Egg gently rocks from
side to side as the hatchling within starts its quest for freedom.
Striations appear on the top of the egg and creep down the sides.
From the hatching sands, Saskia's head tilts this way and that as
different eggs hatch and dragonets find their lifemate. Her gaze sweeps
across the dour red-head, and she smiles wanly to Leigh, "It's not so bad.
Whatever happens."
From the hatching sands, Daffela nods slowly, gaze wandering again,
delighted smile appearing as she watches the impressions... the incredible
happy pairs. "And some of the others too." she adds in a hushed voice.
From the hatching sands, Pakse blinks, pulling at the hem of her robe as
she glances everywhich way at once. "It happens so fast!" She shakes her
head and turns to another wobbling egg, lifting one foot off the sands to
let it cool.
From the hatching sands, Trilana whispers to Rilla and Meara: "They're
moving really fast now. Can you believe it?"
From the hatching sands, D'ton returns from escorting the green and her
new lifemate, and hurries back to keep a wary eye on the Candidates and
Eggs.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon cranes his head trying to catch a glimpse
of the pairs walking off the sands to see who impressed. His head snaps
back around as an egg very near to him tosses violently and a crack
appears in the shell.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon holds hands tight, watching in awe. "I
can't beleive it...." and then, "I know!"
From the hatching sands, Ceria rocks on her feet, trying to alleviate the
heat she's absorbing. She's oblivious to how ridiculous she must look as
she keeps her eyes on the eggs and hatchlings. She nods hastily to
Daffela.
Aurian smiles as she watches, her eyes on the clutch now. Kvasith
recieving some friendly scritches.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn copies Thaelon's easy movements, or tries
to, much as he might to keep feet warm instead of cool while waiting for a
runner mare to foal. "Ow-ww, all right - Thae, what did you see?"
From the hatching sands, Gaudy Gladsome Gypsy Egg moves from side to side,
digging a wallow into the hot sands. It seems to be happy, though, moving
downward as it is.
From the hatching sands, Keron shuffles from foot to foot. "It's.. it's..
REALLY happening."
N'kshar rummages through his pocket for a little while, coming out with a
handful of marks. "Alright Kassi. I'll put a mark and a half on the gold
going to Syrali." He says, nodding his head toward said egg and then said
Candidate.
From the hatching sands, Meara's eyes widen slightly as another egg nearby
starts that crazy hatching dance, then frowns a little as she tries to
observe who just impressed the blue. Giving up she directs her attention
to Trilana's comment, nodding slowly as she considers, "I'm seeing it, but
I'm not quite believing it. Not yet" she adds, almost as an afterthought
as her eyes go back to watching the stumbling dragonets.
From the hatching sands, Ryen continues to watch that poor egg. "It
sinking. Someone should help it."
From the hatching sands, Trilana points with her Rilla-entwined hand at
the Gaudy egg. "Look!" she cries, hopping up and down so that her feet
leave the sands in a moment of blessed respite for just a moment before
they come in contact with the searing sands.
From the hatching sands, Reed quirks a brow, keeping an eye on the few
eggs that are burrying themselves. He turns over to see where Daffela and
Leigh are, licking his dry lips to try and save them from cracking.
From the hatching sands, Syrali startles as Thaelon does, a shiver
disturbing the fabric of her robe, though between her shoulders it's
already damped flat. "It's... it's coming /out/," she mumbles, her toes
digging into the sand a moment until she shifts feet again with a wince.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa gives Kindre a warm smile to acknowledge
the earlier glance and wink, then resumes her watch of the Candidates and
the hatchlings, calm but guarded.
From the hatching sands, Crrrrack! The Spinning Spatial Swirl Egg
veritably explodes--eager, it would seem, to release its occupant from
pre-birth stasis. The cream-and-klah brown left behind, however, appears
more... reluctant? Not quite. Perhaps choosy. However, there can be no
stopping his destiny: when his mad-whirling crimson eyes meet those of
tall, lanky Arimmern, a lifelong match is made. "Yes, you can call me
R'mmer, Listerth," the young man tells his dragonet. "What else could I
possibly be called?"
Telgar Weyr> Meli cackles!
Telgar Weyr> Gaivn groans at the pun.
From the hatching sands, Daffela's hands twitch at her robe, at her hair,
even tugging atthe robbon neatly tied off the plait. Fett shuffle edgily
but she is less bothered by the heat than some. Or perhaps, more
distracted.
Aurian shakes her head cause that is one thing she just couldn't do, bet
on who impresses.
Telgar Weyr> Syrali thinks about it for a while.
From the hatching sands, At last the tempest battering the hardened shell
of the Gawdy Gladsome Gypsy Egg from within is victorious, and striations
across the eggs surface widen. All in a rush, shell fragments are
scattered to the wind, revealing the dark hatchling within.
Midnight Grasslands Green Hatchling
A soft summer wind rushes through the night, an invisible dancer pushing
through the grasslands of the Telgar Plains. The deep green shade of this
hatchling dragon seems to ripple, patterns traced across endless fields.
Great waves of grass blades, greyish green under the faint starlight of
the night sky, weave across her sides, billowing over her flanks where the
midnight depths are exposed in a sudden downdraft. Whirlwinds trace ebony
spirals over her fragile seeming wings, as the impatient gusts scour over
her, lighter green chasing beside where grass lies flattened. Her legs
deepen to earthy darkness, plunged into Pern's rich loam to serve as an
anchor as she steps across hot sands, while above rises a proud and
graceful neck, unyielding to the whimsical fancy of the night's wind.
Racing up the strong arch towards her head of nocturnal green, gusts of
wind chase wild patterns in grassy fields before leaping skyward yet
again. Lit by Belior's silver light, her neckridges gleam with seed tufts
coaxed into a complex dance by the tantalizing breeze, to be teased into a
fury of liquid light over the crests of her eye ridges.
From the hatching sands, Ceria jumps, startled by the explosion of the
egg. Her gaze shoots over to watch as the Impression is made. "They're
beautiful," she almost whispers to Daffela.
From the hatching sands, Leigh's reaction to seeing those first
Impressions is a drawing back as her hot feet edge her away, trying to
find some cooler ground where there is none. She remains more or less
between two other candidates, but turns her body so that she faces the
shattering eggs only obliquely, unwilling to be direct with them.
From the hatching sands, Keron gazes with awe as the Spinning Spatial egg
cracks. "Wow." Is all he can say.
Aurian blinks, "Now that's a beauty."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon almost cries with the next Impression.
"Oh Meara! Trilana! Look at that! If only it could happen to me, or any of
us three." But her eyes land on the next green and she whispers, "But
she's even more beautiful!"
From the hatching sands, Bronwynn's lips are tight and pale as she watches
the eggs twitch and dragonets Impress, she glances over to Pakse.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon looks over at Gaivn, hopping back and
forth almost in a dance, "I'm not sure. I saw a blue and a green..." His
banter ceases when an impression is made near him, "Yay Arimmern."
Kassima digs a charcoal stick from her pocket to scratch out this new
wager on the hide. "One and one-half, Syrali, gold," she repeats
dutifully. "Got it, Nikh. Ooh... brown in that one? Good call--and green
in the other, excellent!"
Telgar Weyr> Kesya frowns?
"No, love, I don't think she's prettier than you are," Meli murmurs under
her breath.
Telgar Weyr> Syrali still doesn't get it.
From the hatching sands, Trilana blinks again. She looks more calm, in
fact, as each Impression and hatching happens. "Look," she whispers, a
finger lifting to point at the silvery, dark green. "Look," she says
again.
Telgar Weyr> Trilana doesn't, either. But.
From the hatching sands, Shadow-Crossed Landscape Egg starts to give a
bare shudder, then a more noticable shake from it's place in it's well
entrenched sandy hollow. Then, it stops. Abiding it's time for just a bit
longer.
Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "It's a Red Dwarf pun. :)"
From the hatching sands, Daffela twitches rather than jumps. Where's the
energy to jump right now? "She's lovely." she murmurs to Ceria, eyes the
green with an openly interested expression.
From the hatching sands, Pakse ahhhhhs at the newest ppair, then whips her
head back at the next cracking egg. She grins at Brynn's glace, trying to
seem more at ease the she really is. "She's.....beautiful."
From the hatching sands, Meara can't help it, and a bubble of laughter
escapes at Rillanon's obvious excitement. She gestures to the green, but
keeps an eye out for any others that might come rushing this way, "She's
very pretty."
Telgar Weyr> Kesya okays.
From the hatching sands, Reed lets his mouth drop open to an oh as he eyes
the green that finally made her way from that half burried egg. "She's a
pretty one." He glances about to the prospective candidates before other
eggs moving catches his eye and he's forced to turn his attention back to
the clutch.
Telgar Weyr> Saskia grins "I liked it."
From the hatching sands, Ceria ohs softly as the green makes her entrance.
"Beautiful," she murmurs again before her gaze continues to move across
the Sands. Her eyes come back to the green once more though.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn suggests, fumbling a palm over his chopped
hair, "Talk to it, Syrali. Tell it to go back in. Malia said, did I ever
say? that you could tell in the eyes. But that was for apprentices. Not
blues and greens or not-sures or whatever."
From the hatching sands, Ryen seems to be lost as he watches the
hatchings. "They are so wonderful looking." He looks back towards the
other candidates, then at the dragonets again.
From the hatching sands, Rumpled Sleeping Pallet Egg no longer gently
rocks. This egg moves as if it was a ship on stormy seas. Cracks start to
gape in the shell, obscuring the egg's natural design.
Anselm breathes in sharply as he sees the green. "Ho wlovely," he murmurs.
"Drama, did you see that?" He is entranced, the cobalt of his eyes
glistening, but with what?Fascination? Awe? Remorse? The Steward is struck
silent aside from his original comment.
From the hatching sands, Maylia begins to head around a close-clustered
knot of candidates, seeking after R'mmer and his new lifemate. It doesn't
take long before the pair leave the sweltering heat of the sands, and the
Weyrlingmaster reappears.
D'thon slips over to Kassi. "I'll put one on Syrali, gold," he informs her
in an undertone. Typical, making bets halfway through.
From the hatching sands, Saskia gasps softly as she spots the newest green
to hatch. "Shells, that's the prettiest hatchlinng yet."
From the hatching sands, Syrali shakes her head rapidly, tugging her hand
loose to impatiently brush back her hair. "It can't /not/ hatch. It'd
die." Nevertheless, her next shuffle takes her just a half-inch away from
the cracking egg.
From the hatching sands, Herath's head turns and twists as each of her
precious eggs falls apart to reveal charming, strong, and lovely
dragons. She seems to be easing into the 'letting go' stage...easing being
the operative word. "Oh, dearheart, you and Tali should be so proud!
They're beautiful," Kindre echoes the sentiments filtering across the
grounds.
From the hatching sands, Annie's eyes are following the brown pairing, her
attention no where near the green untill her shell cracks. Her murmering
comments are added to those of the general direction of the candidates:
Lovely, beautiful. Her feet move, her eyes dart, her hands resume being
clenched on the hem of her robe.
From the hatching sands, Talibenth lets out a rumble that sounds strangely
disappointed and nudges again at the icy inferno egg again with his
muzzle, almost as if to force it to hatch.
From the hatching sands, Myklan watches the youngest green with a distinct
distance, though she brings a faint smile to his face...that forelock is
knocked out of his eyes again.
N'kshar nods to Kassi, grinning, then turns back to watch the scene
unfolding on the Sands.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon gives Syrali's hand a squeeze as a small
green dragonet tumbles out onto the sands near them, "Oooh. That ones
close."
From the hatching sands, Talibenth draws Ceria's attention and she gives
him and the icy inferno egg a curious glance.
From the hatching sands, Keron gazes with hopeful eyes as the rumpled
sleeping pallet egg craks. He scoots closer, as much as he can to the
newest cracking egg and admires the beauty of a Hatching.
From the hatching sands, Shards of obsidian quartz burst outward and
sprinkle the Sands, causing a group of too-eager Candidates to back off
hastily. A glaringly green snout emerges from the shell to call stridently
to her dam before the rest of the dragonet's long, angular body . The
green's gangly and awkward movements don't keep her from marching up and
down from Candidate to Candidate and raucously dismissing one after
another. An older candidate from Half Circle chides the dragonet, "You
can't yell and eat at the same time," before the two are led off the
Sands.
Kvasith snorts towards Talibenth. His rider mutters, "Hush you. He'll be
back in the weyr tonight."
E'vrin hooks his head around Kassima's shoulder, flicking a look towards
D'thon and the other wagerers. "Syrali?" he echoes, musing, at the bookie
herself. "Did I meet her? Is she ... enough for gold?"
From the hatching sands, Gaivn mutters back, "That one, one of the first
ones, it took part of its shards with it... so if it hatched but went back
in, it would have hatched, so it wouldn't die, right? ...Too close. She's
dark."
From the hatching sands, Keron congradulates the newest Impressee and he
looks back at the eggs hopefully.
From the hatching sands, Midnight Grasslands Green Hatchling wobbles
forward a few meters, moments after leaving her confinement. With her
wedge-shaped head angling about, she churns through the sands
determinedly. Nothing's going to stop her! Not even the huge form of
Talibenth as he somehow appears before her. O wait. Where is she to go?
That way? *sigh* Back she goes, no less determined.
From the hatching sands, Trilana peers at the green, brow knitting in
thoughtfulness as she watches her. "What do you think of her?" she asks
Rillanon, finally, grinning suddenly as the Green finds her way.
From the hatching sands, Syrali shakes her head at Gaivn, though she
doesn't look too sure she knows what she's shaking her head back. "Shells,
she's... she's practically /black/," the girl murmers, staring round-eyed
at the hatchling green, and then giggles just faintly at the other.
"She'll trip."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon scratches her nose, watching the little
green with caution, "She's not being very quick, is she? Why hasn't she
IMpressed? I love her, well, ou know."
From the hatching sands, A deep fissure works its way across the surface
of the Rumpled Sleeping Pallet Egg, cleaving the ovoid shape neatly into
two very evenly matched halves. The tip of a brown snout appears and gives
a huge /push!/, and out the solid-looking brown tumbles, landing flat on
his belly.
Supple-Sinewed Mahogany Brown Hatchling
Nearly outstripping the smaller bronzes of this clutch, this fellow would
be ungainly in size were it not for the well-formed vinculum that has
grown beneath his profoundly brown hide. Each motion, be it the stretching
of his attenuated throat or the tentative testing of his wings, betrays
the musculature below, a symphony of flesh and bone that will in time be
an undeniably powerful adult. His hide, however, should not be shunned in
favor of the graceful structure below: how could so lustrous a tint be
ignored? Convolutions of black and the polished brown of Lemos's most
treasured trees have conjoined in resplendent darkness, as though the most
gifted of woodcrafters had conspired to wreak an indefectible animated
version of dragonkind. The hatchling himself is blissfully blind to his
untutored grace, however, and the shadowy substance of his hide and
instead shows dignified interest in what transpires about him. He will not
be caught unawares.
From the hatching sands, Ceria grins as the green makes her way towards
Talibenth and then gets turned around. "She's cute," she says to Daffela,
nudging her.
From the hatching sands, Ryen looks over and eyes the midnight green with
wide eyes. "She looks a little lanky I think."
From the hatching sands, Shadow-Crossed Landscape Egg continues to move in
sudden spurts of movement, wearing away the sand around it as it tilts to
one side.
From the hatching sands, Talibenth serpentines his neck to look at the
tiny little green and croons after her, batting his head towards her
almost as if pushing her to hurry up.
Aurian blinks, "Faranth they are jumping out all over."
From the hatching sands, Reed's eyes are just spinning, and that's
obvious, from the green tint his face as taken on. Trying to look too many
ways at once will do that to a lad.
From the hatching sands, "Oh!" Trilana says, a finger pointing towards the
brown. but somehow, her eyes flicker back towards the green. Rillanon is
answered: "She's taking her time, I think. She's lovely, that's what she
is."
Anselm oohs softly. "A brown...ratehr impressive shade, isn't it." His
face, so handsome,falls justa touch. "So many of them."
From the hatching sands, Keron looks at the newest brown with awe.
"Amazing." His few words express much as his emotions are all that seem
enough for him.
From the hatching sands, Ryen mouth drops as he sees the brown hatching.
"He is wonderful looking. Truely wonderful!"
Kassima informs E'vrin, tilting a long-boned finger towards the Candidate
in question, "You've met her. She's the one who asks odd questions out of
the blue--and helped make that goblet. Methinks she'd be a fair
queenrider, but the amount of these bets verses the odds tempts me too
much."
From the hatching sands, Thaelon chuckles at the small green's antics as
she makes her way back and forth across the sands, "I don't think she
knows where she's going."
From the hatching sands, "There's a strong one," Kindre remarks of the
brown and leans back to pat Herath's foreleg. Her eyes scan the grounds
for the little green who seems to still be making her choice.
From the hatching sands, Daffela grins and ohs softly at the brown. "Now,
he's handsome. Powerful." she returns to her friend, unable to keep the
smile off her face any more. "She's sweet I think." The green. Daffy
points to the green and her gaze flicks to the other moving eggs.
From the hatching sands, Ceria turns her attention to the brown. "He's a
handsome one," she agrees.
From the hatching sands, Gathering Storm Egg gives a little quiver,
dancing lightly across the sands before coming to rest against another
egg.
From the hatching sands, A sigh escapes Rilla's lips, "Yeah. They all are,
though. All of 'em are beautiful. If a little mucky after hatching. Look
at the brown! He's nice, too. I like the green beter, though. What do you
think, Meara?"
From the hatching sands, Midnight Grasslands Green Hatchling nears the
candidates, not looking at them. Well, not really. There's a sense of
something that's drawing her onward though... someone. Someone very close
by. With a frustrated warble, she pushes past two young men to get beyond
them to the other white-robes beyond.
Kvasith presses his nose to his rider. Aurian laughs, "No love. You are
vastly superior."
From the hatching sands, Saskia covers her ears and takes a step back away
from the racuous green's recriminations, then breathes a sigh of relief as
she is led off by her new lifemate. Then she looks over at the Mahogany
Brown and her hands drop and swing to her sides as she stares at the
hatchling for a moment. "Never seen so muscles on a hatchling." she
comments quietly.
From the hatching sands, Syrali shrugs, shoulders jerking against the
cloth. "She's got a lot of us to look through." The girl's jaw tenses
again, her hand tugging a little at Thae's. "Look at him," she says,
gesturing with a motion of her chin to the brown. "He's /huge/."
From the hatching sands, Keron tries to squirm closer to the brown to get
a good look at him. "What a lovely brown."
Kassima asks, "Brown? From that egg?" Frown. "Was *certain* 'twould be a
blue...."
From the hatching sands, Reed swallows again and wrinkles his nose,
lifting one foot, dusting it off, then completing the same ritual with the
other. "Hot hot..."
From the hatching sands, M'hryn looks at the brown with surprise. "It's
huge," he says to Kindre, then looks at Talibenth. "Stop that. Let them
take their time."
From the hatching sands, "Like fathers." Annie says simply on the arival
of the brown, her voice low and nearly unheard above the din of the
crowds.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn steps back, half-stumbling on the shifting
sand. "Looks like she does -now-. Darker than Juliath. Yeah. Darker."
From the hatching sands, Supple-Sinewed Mahogany Brown Hatchling seems
perfectly non-plussed by his prone position as he takes the opportunity
given to him to study the Sand that sparkles right before his whirling
eyes. His wings idly flop at his sides as he nudges the sparkling grains
with his muzzle, curious about their appearance.
From the hatching sands, Trilana nods sagely. "Me, too," she says, peering
at the green. "She's lovely, that's what she is," she decides lightly, tho
her voice quavers. "Isn't she? And so particular."
From the hatching sands, Leigh watches that first dark, moonlit green with
a wary eye, so focused on her that she doesn't even see the brown hatch
and move towards the semicircle of candidates. Her arms cross over her
chest as she inhales and heaves a tremendous sigh of concentration.
E'vrin heaves a mournful sigh. "There goes my island, doesn't it? C'mon,
Kassima, tell me you'll win enough...."
Aurian waggles a finger at Kassima, "Can't be right all of the time dear
wingleader." She leans back against the head of Kvasith.
From the hatching sands, Ryen seems lost as he watches the brown... "He is
something..."
From the hatching sands, Shadow-Crossed Landscape Egg gives another small
shudder as it rolls off to one side, bidding it's time like a silent
storm.
From the hatching sands, For those nearby the Accretion of Time and Space
Egg and are listening closely, they just might hear the taptapping of the
hatchling within. A narrow section of the egg breaks off and a small
bronze muzzle pokes through. The hatchling's nostrils widen as he sniffs
this new place and with a herculean effort he leaps free of his shell,
landing directly in front of Vallorin. The weyr-bred lad reaches out a
shaking hand to free the bronze's wet wings. "You'll get plenty of food
soon, Gronth," V'rin tells his lifemate.
From the hatching sands, Ceria smiles at the antics of the brown. "He
doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry," she observes. The shifting of her
feet has almost become a hopping as she tries to prevent the heat of the
Sands from burning her.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon peers over in the direction Syrali is
pointing and nods as he catches sight of the brown hatchling, "Yeah. He's
beautiful." Though his attention is quickly drawn back to the green
hatchling who seems to be making a bee-line for someone.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn repeats that name quietly. "Gronth."
From the hatching sands, "Magnificent brown," murmurs Alyssa, tossing the
compliment toward the dam and sire while shifting comfortably on the
sands. V'rin's Impression does win an approving smile and a quiet,
"Well-done."
From the hatching sands, Keron tries to squirm ever closer to the browns,
immitation what he had seen at 'lizard hatchings before. Only this time it
was so much more.. real. His gaze quickly looks over at the time and space
egg, but returns to the brown. "So strong."
From the hatching sands, Kindre smiles a bit after rolling the bronze's
name over her tongue. "Sounds...strong?"
N'kshar makes his way back towards his lifemate, giving her an
affectionate pat on the neck as they both watch the precedings closely.
From the hatching sands, Nimiriel shifts quietly in her own little hollow
of sand, still standing near Alyssa. "He's a lovely one," she murmurs,
then grins over at Lys. "I forgot how hot the sands were."
From the hatching sands, Maylia raises an eyebrow on her way to the nearby
impression. "Val.. V'rin, please. Bring Gronth this way." And with that,
the Weyrlingmaster leads the pair off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Midnight Grasslands Green Hatchling moves past
the flanking row of candidates, before pausing at a creamy-skinned,
befreckled lass with long dark hair and dark eyes. Red-whorled eyes
intent, she croons plaintively.
From the hatching sands, Pakse grins at the newest pair, glancing at the
green and brown while trying to look at all the moving eggs. Just seems to
proze that the treuly dedicated can, in fact, look everywhere at once.
Kassima affects a pout. "You don't have faith in me? Nay fear. I'll win
enough, and buy you the finest tropical island available, and we'll run
away there and spend the rest of our days stealing sticks from each other.
Oh, now *that* egg, methinks I guessed right. Gronth? Intriguing name."
Mauroth flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
From the hatching sands, Reed runs shaking fingers through his hair and
grumbles something about wondering why he ever got himself into this, then
clears his throat and glances next to him. "Gindra...that you?" he asks in
a hushed voice.
From the hatching sands, Gathering Storm Egg wobbles again, its surface
tapping gently but repeatedly against the egg beside it as it jerks around
in the depression beneath.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon lets go of Tril's hand for a minute to
pull some hair out of her face. Then she puts it back, watching the green
as it chooses its pair.
From the hatching sands, Syrali hisses between her teeth, balancing for a
moment on one foot and a little lean on Thaelon to press her lifted foot
against her other leg in vain hope of cooling it. "It's so..." She
swallows, looking after the green. "I think..."
Alane vaults down Mauroth's side to the ground, using her straps as
handholds.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa says with a bemused, sideways glance at
Nimiriel, "Twice with bare feet makes it more tolerable with boots...and a
touch of numbweed didn't hurt."
"Strong name," E'vrin declares, unwittingly echoing the queen rider down
below. "Gronth. Look at that green, though--"
From the hatching sands, Supple-Sinewed Mahogany Brown Hatchling
reluctantly tears his attention away from his study as the growing heat of
the Sands against his belly makes him uncomfortable. Creeling with
surprise at the pain, he waddles to his feet, his oversized head bobbing
this way and that way as he searches for comfort.
X'dren vaults down Mauroth's side to the ground, as the dragon warbles a
greeting.
Anselm peers, "Is that Annie? Or that girl close to her...the green?"
From the hatching sands, Leigh pays little attention to the bronze; he
poses no danger, at least none to her. The others, however, may. Leigh's
lips purse as she deliberately takes her eyes away from them and onto the
only thing which doesn't threaten, namely, the stands full of spectators.
Her gaze narrows, even as her feet shift once on the sands. Whatever she
seeks, she doesn't find.
Alane waves to riders and dragons she knows. "What's hatched?"
D'thon gets to his feet, allowing Wroxath to shift on _his_ feet. Only a
glance is spared for the newcomers before he turns back to the Hatching
scene intently.
From the hatching sands, Daffela watches the green intently for long
moments, shining eyes congratulating the one who looks like being the next
one to Impress before the brown recaptures her attention.
From the hatching sands, Trilana blinks at the green. "She knows just what
she wants, doesn't she?" she asks of Rillanon, hopping up and down still,
fingers idly squeezing at Rilla's hand.
From the hatching sands, Ryen watches the Brown with intent study, truely
awed by the 'little' one.
X'dren trails behind Alane, smiling... a bit less shy than usual.
From the hatching sands, Meara takes a moment to smile her congratulations
over to the new pair and then suddendly blinks, staring down, down into
those darling eyes that whirl so fast, and so.. Another blink, followed
immediately by a wide smile, as she drops Rillanon's hand to stroke the
muzzle in front of her, "Isath? Now there's a pretty name, and yes, we are
together," A pause, then, "Yes, together, Isath!"
From the hatching sands, Keron tries to call out to the hatching. "It's
ok, really it is. Your so beautiful." His actions try to hide and intense
feeling of the hatching, but all that comes out are 'mushy stuff'
Kassima admits, "She *is* a lovely one, even if'n nay so much so as
Lysseth." Biased? Her? Nahhhh.
From the hatching sands, Saskia watches the Midnight Green closely while
Gindra sighs softly "No, she's looking at someone else. I do hope more
greens hatch." Saskia gives her friend a grin "I'm sure many more will."
and glances at Reed as well.
From the hatching sands, Myklan gives a sudden sort of hop, as if he JUST
remembered his feet were...hot! He mutters something as he nearly runs
over a smaller candidate, trying unconsciously to find a new and less hot
place to stand.
Drama tries to peer, being far shorter, she desides to hop. "I don't think
it was Xeana... is it?"
From the hatching sands, Ceria's feet seem to move at the same speed as
her gaze. Her feet move quickly up and down as her eyes shoot over to
Meara. "Congratulations!" she calls out, not really caring if she's heard
or not. A sincere smile adorns her face.
From the hatching sands, "Meara!" Trilana cries, head turning to grin at
Meara. "Well, congratulations to you!" she says, eyes widening in
surprise.
Aurian glances down as she watches, "Oh who.... can it be.." She bounces a
bit trying to see over some of the crowd. She giggles, "Meara.. yes!" She
grins, "Great name.. Isath."
From the hatching sands, Tiny chips of shell flake away, revealing ever-
widening cracks that spread to encompass the entire width and length of
the egg as the hatchling inside struggles to be free. In a flurry of
shards like debris cast from the heart of a storm, a wildly hued blue
hatchling is suddenly revealed, giving loud voice to the glory of his
release from imprisonment.
Stormy Patchwork Blue Hatchling
As turbulent and windthrashed as the strongest hurricane, this hatchling's
mix and match hide is a melange of every color of blue imaginable. From
the monsoon shades of deep sapphire and midnight blue that spread their
questing fingers across his neck and forequarters with traceries of
clinging color to the dripping wet shimmers of azure and cerulean that
drape themselves across his hindquarters and tail, everything about him
seems restless and in constant motion. Even the translucent cobalt
glassiness of his slowly drying wingsails appear to be involved in a
Glassmaster's work, stretching and growing to become highly esteemed
objets d'art. An ethereal glaze of misty blue hazes his indigo chest and
lower portions, tendrils of the gauzy coloring creeping up to caress his
jawline and snout like a lover. Headknobs and talons are washed by shrouds
of silver-dappled twilight blue and gold-flecked lapis lazuli
respectively, while the very tip of his long forked tail is graced by a
tiny swirl of pure aquamarine. Despite his confused coloration, he seems
to know exactly why he's here from the moment he broke from his shell -
that ultimate goal of finding the one that will make him complete.
From the hatching sands, Pakse quakes with nerves, her hands clenching and
unclenching as she watches the movements of the dragonets. A congrats is
given to Meara.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon nods, squeezing back. Tril might not be
able to see her what with all that is happening, but she doesn't get to
say anything when she sees Meara, "Meara! OH congratulations!"
From the hatching sands, Light reflects from the trembling Hollow
Holographic Hallucination Egg in a sudden blizzard of rainbow glints--
glints that are soon overwhelmed by black as mirage is destroyed to make
way for the reality of a sun-dazzled oasis blue hatchling. Aqua-drenched
wings trailing behind him like a sort of cloak, this one hesitates long...
which one? Which? *There.* Newborn knees buckle, and the dragon-child
falls before the feet of a red-headed Igenite boy... at once both kneeling
and bestowing himself, his love, and his soul to his chosen like the
precious gifts that they are.
Anselm shakes his head. "No....I hear the name 'Meara'.
From the hatching sands, "I think..." Kindre begins to say as the green
seems to have finally chosen her mate. "Maybe..." Herath is too busy
watching her and Talibenth's offspring dart after their lifemates. "Oh!
Isath...what a charming name...And to Meara. What a perfect pairing, I
think," is remarked once the weyrling-pair is bonded.
From the hatching sands, "Meara and Isath..." Alyssa repeats to herself.
"Charming."
From the hatching sands, Reed nods over to Saskia with a fleeting smile
before Meara gets a glance of startlement. "Oh, congratulations Meara!" he
calls. Pausing, he sees his favorite egg hatch, and the dragonet impress.
Is that a pout on his face?
From the hatching sands, Thaelon braces himself, wincing a bit as Syrali's
weight pushes his feet farther into the hot sands, "Happening so fast?" He
cheers in Meara's direction as the dragonet finds it's lifemate,
"Congrats!"
"That one is a heartbreaker" Mante chuckles, lifting a chin towards the
gorgeous blue that just hatched.
From the hatching sands, Ceria's emerald gaze continues to move across the
Sands, this time coming to rest on the newly hatched blue.
From the hatching sands, Keron quivers as a chill of excitement overcomes
him as an elegant blue comes forth from an egg. "Oh, so pretty."
Alane tugs at X'dren. "Look it's Meara and she's just impressed! Go Meara!
"Only a handful of eggs," E'vrin assures Alane by aiming his voice in her
general direction. "--Isath and Meara, says Sharath. Wish I knew her, to
say, but ... congratulations all the same, I suppose."
From the hatching sands, Saskia turns to Meara and beams, "Oh! Wonderful!
Congratulations! Isath's such a pretty name."
From the hatching sands, D'ton smiles and makes his way over to Meara.
"Congratulations," he says to her, "Help Isath along now, we've got food
for her in the barracks."
From the hatching sands, Meara giggles, "Hungry?" she says, hands going to
her stomach, "-Is- that what the sensation is?"
X'dren nods, grinning...
From the hatching sands, Ryen looks over at the blue and smiles, then to
Meara. "Congrats!" he says before turning his attention back to the other
hatchings.
From the hatching sands, Maylia gazes across the mound of rocking,
spinning, and cracking eggs, her eyes sighting on the dark green and her
choice. A nod to D'ton, who's closer, to assist them, and she continues on
her way.
From the hatching sands, Tears are now streaming down Rilla's face because
of the beauty in Meara's IMpression.
Alane nearly whoops. "X'dren.She got a green.Whooo whoooo Meara!
Kassima gives a sudden whoop. "Meara!" she exults. "To green! That's
perfection. She'll take wonderously to the Ways of Green Evil, be marking
m'words."
From the hatching sands, Gaivn gapes. "Meara? Did you hear her name,
Thaelon? I mean, not Meara's, but the other one. And isn't that something,
how the brown nearby, he's mostly one color soft of, but this one that's
closer, he's all colors? Sort of like my mare, Lacey, who's back at
Herder. Not here. Definitely not here."
X'dren blushes, glaring at Kassima.
From the hatching sands, Trilana gives Meara another smile as the weyrling
is lead off. "Congratulations." And after a moment, she eyes the blue
sagely, taking her time to look him over as her hand trembles inside
Rillanon's. "This is insane," she murmurs, looking around at the
commotion. "but wonderful," she adds, smiling softly. "Look at the blue,
Rillanon."
Aurian grins at Kassima, "Already planning to mentor the poor lass?"
From the hatching sands, Bronwynn's tight lips curl into a giant smile as
Meara impresses. She watches in awe.
Alane smiles at Sharath. "She's from the Reaches. I'm fostered there."
T'vor gives Kassima a look bordering on disgust; then returns back to the
Hatching.
Anselm gapes slightly at the greens' Impression, then breathes, "Green
Evil?" He shouts, his voice very shrill though melodic, "Annie! Take the
brown one!"
From the hatching sands, Daffela lifts a hand to scrub fiercely at her
face while she eagarly eyes the unhatched eggs again, gaze sometimes
switching to the brown with open curiousity.
From the hatching sands, Meara looks up at D'ton, a confused look on her
face -- what's he doing here? A moment, and realisation dawns and she
grins sheepishly, "Oh, sorry, Sir, we're coming, right away! Come on
Isath, I know where there's food!"
E'vrin looks worried. He's /next/ to the evil one.
From the hatching sands, "Sorry," Syrali whispers to Thaelon, weight off
of him again. "W-was that Meara?" She swallows again, taking a breath that
relaxes only slowly. "She looks... awful happy."
From the hatching sands, Impetuous Icy Inferno Egg wobbles gently, almost
imperceptibly. A bit of sand that was on it falls off in a gentle shower.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon nods, shaking her head with a sigh,
"Lucky Meara! Oh, but I'm so happy for her!"
X'dren growls softly... being a greenie.
From the hatching sands, Supple-Sinewed Mahogany Brown Hatchling swallows
another scared creel as he notices the white-clad things for the first
time. The tips of his wings drag in the Sand, leaving furrows behind, as
he waddles towards a dark-haired girl. His creels turn to croons as he
gets ever closer.
Anselm leans forward...watching....
Aurian leans up placing a hand on Kvasith's head trying to see who's next.
From the hatching sands, Stormy Patchwork Blue Hatchling doesn't waste a
moment as he bravely steps forth from his the remants of his shell. Taking
the time to look about and plot his course in this sea of white robes in
the distance, a blue muzzle pushes forward towards something he knows is
out there for him.
From the hatching sands, Meara heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
D'thon sighs, shaking his head. "Kassi, you never change," he notes in
response to the comment.
From the hatching sands, Gathering Storm Egg shivers again, a few tiny
flakes of grey-blue falling from its surface. Ever-widening cracks begin
to trace their way from top to bottom as the dragonet inside struggles to
be free.
From the hatching sands, Leigh smiles, though with that distance that can
only come from someone who has no idea what her friend is experiencing.
How could she? And though she murmurs congratulations with the rest, they
are by definition as hollow as a blind man's compliments of a woman's fine
eyes.
From the hatching sands, Trilana looks at the brown, now. "For Faranth's
sake, I never even noticed him. He's lovely," she says to Rillanon, a
finger pointing at the brown.
From the hatching sands, Keron wiggles foward and manages to get infront
of the group of Candidates, 1 because he can keep his feet from burning,
and 2 he wants to see the hatchlings more clearly. "Oh wow. What a lovely
blue. Oh and a strong brown too."
Alane glances up at the greenrider. She looks vaguely familiar.
From the hatching sands, Pakse tries to watch the newest hatchling and the
rocking eggs. "Too much too fast!" She rocks herself, from foot to foot to
cool them down a bit.
T'vor mutters to Anselm, "... an... on... Fret..."
From the hatching sands, Thaelon nods to Gaivn, though he doesn't take his
eyes off of the hatchlings wandering about, "Isath, I think. Couldn't hear
very well for the creening." He let's out an ahh as a blue dragonet makes
it's way into his view.
From the hatching sands, Reed looks left, and right. Each way either an
egg or a hatchling occupy, so he just stands there, edgy as ever, nerves
abounding.
Kassima grins back at Aurian, closing an eye in a wink. "You never know.
A'course, there're plenty of evil greenriders hereabouts t'be doing it
if'n nay me... a'*course* nay, D'thon. Some things in life are variable;
I'm a constant. Mostly."
From the hatching sands, Ryen nods as he looks at the two dragonets then
to Keron. "yes they are."
Keriann stands up and waves an arm excitedly over to her former High
Reaches wingmates as she realizes that Meara Impressed the green, but she
drops back down to try to keep track of the activity on the Sands.
Anselm mutters to T'vor, "... the same--I... wish..."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon nods, her eyes fastened on the blue, and
on the brown a little. But there is no time to look at them all.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn agrees, "Real happy. And it didn't even
make her bloo - but we're not supposed to think about that. Dunno how
we're supposed to not think, though." At the sinewy hatchling's change in
sound, he looks over to gauge his course, and draws a heavier, heated sigh
of relief. "Isath. That's good. Short. You could yell that."
From the hatching sands, Annie watches the green pairing of Meara and
Isath, a wide smile turning her lips up. "Oh, Meara!" A sigh passes from
her, attention returning to the situation at hand. This whole hatching
thing.
T'vor smiles at Anselm, "I'd not worry about. She'd probably have more
character than to associate with those who have none."
From the hatching sands, Impetuous Icy Inferno Egg suddenly gives a
violent shudder, and bounces slightly. A tiny crack appears in the shell,
but doesn't spread. Then, it slowly begins to tip to one side.
From the hatching sands, Bronwynns eyes takes on a new light and she
reaches out to cradle the brown snout in her hands, "Fehuth?"
N'kshar breaks out in a laugh as he catches the conversation about evil
greenriders. "We could always use a few more in our ranks, couldn't we,
Kassi?" His laugh dies down to a grin, and he leans back up against Azeth.
Aurian snorts a touch, she glances back to the sands leaning ,
"Wonderful!"
From the hatching sands, Talibenth sits up on his haunches suddenly, a
small bugle escaping from him as the icy inferno egg wobbles. It wobbled!
He saw it! He drops down to his forelegs again and reaches forward to
nudge it towards the Candidates some more. As it cracks, he croons at it,
stepping back.
From the hatching sands, Trilana eyes the blue, too. Determined little
fella. "There's so many. I'ven't an idea where they're going. Even a
little." Eggs, too, are watched idly and warily at the same time. Then....
"bronwynn?" she asks, eyes widening. "Oh, bronwynn! Congratulations!"
Anselm laughs, a squeaky, slightly unnerved giggle. "Very well then!"
From the hatching sands, Rillanon looks at Bronwynn and gasps, "OH! Look!
OH congratulations, Bronwynn! What a beautiful name!"
From the hatching sands, Keron watches the eggs slowly hatch, and then the
hatchlings walk around, and then back again. He tries to miss nothing. "Oh
pretty blue, oh mighty brown."
From the hatching sands, D'ton returns from guiding Meara off the sands
just in time to see Bronwynn and Fehuth. He quickly hurries towards them.
From the hatching sands, Ceria's wide green eyes sweep across the cavern,
her mind struggling to take in the myriad of information her eyes are
sending. After a moment, she chooses to focus on Bronwynn's Impression.
Another congratulations is called out before her attention is drawn back
to Talibenth and the egg he's paying mind to.
From the hatching sands, Myklan blinks slowly, as his gaze following the
brown has led him direction to...Bronwynn. He gets the oddest smile and
actually breaks his silence, "Bronny!"
From the hatching sands, Pakse grins at her friend, moving to the side a
bit to give the new pair room. "Oh he's wonderful, Brynn! Just wonderful!
Congrats!"
From the hatching sands, Ryen looks over to Brynn with wide eyes again.
"Brynn! Oh my! Congrats!" He waves to her with happiness.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa ahs at Bronwynn and her brown finding each
other, and she smiles to herself, nodding. "That's suitable...indeed."
From the hatching sands, Hairline fractures spread their way across the
surface of the Gathering Storm Egg, until it seems as though nothing
should be holding it together. With one last, loud *CRACK!*, followed by
an exuberant young bugle, the shattered pieces of this egg shower around a
desert-sands brown dragonet.
Furtive Flecked Sandstone Brown Hatchling
Were it not for the flashy speckles of gold and bronze in his hide, this
dragonet might someday vanish in the Rukbat-drenched expanses of Igen's
desert, for his body strongly echoes the ocher and russet of that barren
land in the height of a Pernese afternoon. Yet beneath the fundamental tan
of his hide exist alterations and enhancements of color, most readily
apparent in the swirling, ruddy tempests of understated reddish brown
across his broad chest and sinewy flanks: one spiraling line around his
tail from base to tip is especially individualizing. Foremost, however,
are the metallic glimmers that dance off his flecked flesh when properly
illuminated, like the unique metallic dots of brilliance seen on cloudless
days at the seashore. Indeed, what is discreet and demure coloration at
nightfall will, in the full glory of daylight, show itself to be a
mesmerizing amalgamation of lightness and dark, scintillation and shadow,
worthy of extensive admiration.
From the hatching sands, A dark crack suddenly splits the Blood Red Egg
asunder, jagged as a lightning bolt against its crimson depths. From the
interior climbs a green dragonet whose dusky forest hide is banded, much
like malachite, in wavering ribbons of a lighter hue. Wings spread wide as
she achieves her bearing, scanning the Sands before her with eyes that
glow garnet in eagerness. Smoky red shifts to clear, sweet blue in an
instant as she rushes to her found match among the semi-circle: a scrawny,
black-haired Half-Circle lad, who reaches to caress her head in tender
amazement before gently leading his new lifemate away.
From the hatching sands, Saskia smiles warmly to Bronwynn, "Congrats
Brynn! A big bouncing brown Fehuth! Congrats!"
From the hatching sands, Daffela gasps as she looks along the semi-circle.
"Bronwynn!" she manages, incredibly delighted as she watches. "Oh /Brynn/"
The blue is noticed then and Daffy's gaze stays on him in wonder until
another brown appears.
From the hatching sands, Syrali's hand grips Thaelon's tightly. "Brynn...
look, Thae, Brynn!" She giggles quietly, taking a heavy breath that slips
out again on a shudder.
Drama looks up, watching her foster father convers with the Fort
Weyrleader. Her small ears strain to hear above the crowd.
From the hatching sands, Reed turns and waves towards Bronwynn. "Oh!
Congratulations!" he calls as he spots that impression. Talibenth's
movements cause him to look over toawrds the one egg, curious expression
placating his face.
X'dren returns his attention to the Hatching again, instead of the
anti-green rider.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn smiles as Bronwynn announces the name of
the brown. "Wow. Fehuth was it?"
From the hatching sands, Stormy Patchwork Blue Hatchling raises his head
carefully and sagely, looking away from his shards and over the group of
robes that are coming more into focus. Continuing on his path to finding
what he believes is true, he starts to aproach a nearby cluster of white.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon smiles as the brown makes his choice,
"Congrat's Bronwynn!" He winces and looks over in time to see another
brown emerge, "Oh, there's another one."
From the hatching sands, Kindre can't help but chuckle a bit at
Talibenth's playful nature with the egg. "Congrats, Bronwynn," she calls a
moment before another brown pushes forth from his shell. "By Herath's
egg," she whisper-whistles, "what a striking creature he is..."
Aurian watches the next brown hatch, "Yes Kvasith you are always more
lovely." The brown whose head has her pinned against the low wall croons
appreciativly.
From the hatching sands, Bronwynn nods quickly "Yes, Yes, your feet. Mine
hurt too." She searches someone to lead them from the sands.
Bradamante is nibbling her lower lip to death and wonders "When is that
blue going to make up his mind?" out loud.
From the hatching sands, D'ton places a gentle hand on Bronwynn's
shoulder, and says to her, "I bet he's hungry. We've got food in the
barracks. Shall we go?"
From the hatching sands, Leigh's surprise is plain as Bronwynn Impresses
the well-muscled brown practically right under her nose. She backs away to
give the pair room to move off together, casting a wary glance at the rest
of the eggs even before the congratulations leave her lips.
From the hatching sands, Syrali nods shakily, edging back just a little
more. "Ow. Huge. They're so much bigger'n I thought they'd be...."
Anselm reaches down to pick Drama up, placing her on his strong shoulders.
He is awed...but worried. "Drama--can you see? Did Annie find that
strapping brown?"
From the hatching sands, Rillanon begins to cry, not because she is sad at
not Impressing so far, but because she is so happy for her friends. "Oh
Tril!" She whsipers, holding on to her with all that she has.
Alane nudges X'dren. "Isn't this the most exciting thing you've ever seen,
except for what you guys just did at Reaches."
From the hatching sands, Keron watches Bronwynn Impress, and calls out
congrats. "Oh another one."
From the hatching sands, Trilana shakes her head in awe. "Congratulations,
brynn," she says finally, eyes flickering back towards the new hatchlings.
blues, browns... blue, moving towards the candidates. "Look at that," she
says, murmuring as she points with her Rilla-hand. "And that," and the
brown is eyed. At Rillanon's outburst, she smiles and gives RIlla's hand a
tight squeeze. "I know," she whispers.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn releases his hand from his robe enough to
wave at Bronwynn and her rich brown, palm's clamminess soon licked up by
the thirsty air. "Yeah. Another. Lots, all over. Did you see that one from
the red egg? She looked like she was all gussied up for a gather."
Kassima, being a greenrider herself, is probably not an anti-greenrider
per se. "Bronwynn and...." A querying look is given Lysseth. "Fehuth? Huh.
Fehuth. Could grow on one. Good for Bronwynn!"
From the hatching sands, Mournful Midnight Melody Egg twitches in its
comfy sandspot, while a tappitytap comes from within the shell itself.
From the hatching sands, Fehuth takes an edge of Bronwynn's robe in his
teeth, giving it a little taste.
X'dren nods absently to Alane's words, and wipesaway suspicious moisture.
"Yeah... I think this is as good--or better."
From the hatching sands, Black and white blur to grey as the Checkered
Chiaroscuro Chessboard Egg whirls in frantic movement, sending sand
spraying over the shell-shards of its former neighbors. At long last, the
dizzying motion is stopped; the egg itself is broken, shattered by the
efforts of the dragonet inside. It's a lithe, lanky hunter green that
emerges from the confines, falling almost immediately at the feet of a
blonde, green-eyed Candidate. Her indignant squawk turns into a croon of
pure joy as she looks up--how kind of Lorina, to be right there and save
her the fuss of searching! "You're just lazy, Khetieth!" the girl chides
lovingly as she aids her lifemate to stand.
From the hatching sands, Reed eyes that blue for a moment. He seems to be
endlessly turning his head, back and forth, back and forth. "This is all
going so fast," he mumbles Saskia's way.
Alane points at the newly impressed pair. "Look! Another one!"
From the hatching sands, Furtive Flecked Sandstone Brown Hatchling
practically falls free of his broken shell, smacking nose against
forelegs. He gives a short creel of pain, but it's suddenly cut off as he
realizes there are other things on the sands with him. Gazing around in
wonder, he doesn't move from his former home.
Drama, from ontop Anselms shoulders, looks down at the sands. "Nope," the
girl points. "Xeana is still out there." The girl tilts her head. "Yeah,
her hair is short."
From the hatching sands, Pakse glaces from the blue to the new brown,
pulling at the edge of her robe. Rocking back and forth has been replaced
by high stepping. Maybe that will work.
X'dren says "A lovely green..."
From the hatching sands, Keron notices yet another Impression. His eyes
are surely on the brown and blue. "Oh such lovely creatures."
Aurian grins at the brown, "Really a charming little chap."
From the hatching sands, Ceria continues to shift back and forth on both
feet. Suddenly she reaches out to grip Daffela's shoulder, as if anchoring
herself in the flurry of activity around her. Her eyes remain on the egg
near Talibenth.
Alane grins up at X'dren. "Greens are my favorites."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon chuckles at the new brown, telling
Trilana, "He's awful cute. I like him. BUt why doesn't he move from his
egg shell?"
From the hatching sands, "Oh!" Trilana cries, as the brown trips and
falls. "I don't know! I hope he's all right."
From the hatching sands, Maylia's occupied nudging a reluctant candidate
back into the circle, and misses the impression of the brown to Bronwynn.
But next to her, the joyful cry of Lorina, is sounded. "Once Khetieth's on
her feet, help her this way," Is quietly stated to the girl.
Anselm reaches up to pat Drama on the back, "I know. Isn't she glorious?"
He flushes deeply at that, and says, "She's grown so."
From the hatching sands, Bronwynn lets out a small laugh, "Come this way,"
she beckons her beautiful lifemate.
Dyane smiles slightly, motioning to Annie. She mutters to T'vor, "... from
Boll.... of..."
From the hatching sands, Bronwynn heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
X'dren beams at Alane with amusement. "Right now, you've a limited choice
if you want to return."
From the hatching sands, Impetuous Icy Inferno Egg begins to rock back and
forth in a particularly agitated manner. It even spins a little in its
shaking, knocking against the egg next to it.
From the hatching sands, Fehuth heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
From the hatching sands, Daffela starts at Ceria's touch but her hand
creeps up to cling to her friends as she watches breathlessly.
From the hatching sands, Saskia smiles faintly to Reed, "Yeah, I was just
saying to Leigh that it's a lot faster than I remember." At the brown's
creel, she looks his way and adds, "I hope he finds his lifemate soon. He
seems a bit lost."
From the hatching sands, Annie winces softly, watching the brownling fall.
"I thought /we/ had to be careful not to hurt ourselves, not them too..."
From the hatching sands, Stormy Patchwork Blue Hatchling continues to
move towards that white robed bunch, needing no encouragement as to where
his true path lies. And there it is, his one true goal in life. Or the
first in many as he stops at the warm looking knees of his chosen, his
beloved.
From the hatching sands, Keron looks at the brown, not moving from the
shell. "Oh, yes I could see why you wouldn't want to move." He continualy
looks between the blue and brown.
From the hatching sands, Mournful Midnight Melody Egg spins neatly on its
base as the occupant begins to demand freedom, and a tendril of one crack
rapidly grows into a webbed pattern across the rest of the uppermost end.
From the hatching sands, Talibenth looks like a cat playing with some
small, helpless creature. That tentative reaching towards it, then drawing
back, then reaching again. Only the object of his attention is the icy
inferno egg and he doesn't seem like he's stalking it. Each time it moves,
he pulls his head back, but then leans back in, only to pull away suddenly
as it spins a little.
Drama pats Anselm's head, beaming down. "Yeah. She always is. When I grow
up, I'm gonna look just like her if I can."
From the hatching sands, Gaivn points out the creeling dragonet, "Thae,
Syrali, look. He's not going anywhere. Maybe -he'll- go back in."
Overhearing, he nods at Annie, and then just flat-out stares at Talibenth.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa is trying to keep a watchful gaze on the
sands, but Talibenth's antics draw her attention and her bemused approval.
Kassima remarks rather wistfully, watching Lorina and Khetieth, "Reminds
me so much of Standing back at Benden... ah, well. *What* is Talibenth
doing to that poor egg?"
Anselm looks up to smile to his foster daughter. "Even if you don't,
m'dear, I have no doubt you'll be just as lovely."
From the hatching sands, Leigh nods at Saskia's comment, now absorbed in
watching the hatchlings already emerged from their shells. "Mmhm," she
murmurs absently, "it's faster than I thought it would be." But her voice
is low, undirected towards anyone, really.
From the hatching sands, Ceria glances over at Daffela, almost startled to
find herself touching her. She grins nervously and moves her hand down,
still holding onto Daffela's hand. "I wonder why Talibenth is so
interested in that particular egg?" she wonders.
Aurian scrathces her ear, "Unlike his sire he wants to help them hatch."
From the hatching sands, Keron watches another dragonet, about to hatch,
and then looks to the brown that sits there. "Come over here, fine looking
brown."
E'vrin supposes, "Helping it? Hunting it? Can't tell, and Sharath's not
talking." The bronze behind him, in fact, is watching another part of the
sands; let that sire down there do what he likes -- /his/ eggs, too!
From the hatching sands, Syrali just shakes her head again at Gaivn,
scarcely breathing now as she tries in vain to keep an eye on everything
happening, everything at once. She catches Talibenth's motions only
belatedly, a corner of her mouth twitching into a fleeting smile, and back
her attention turns to those hatchlings tottering within even a
dragonlength.
From the hatching sands, Annie meets Gaivn's eyes, nodding again.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon says nothing, her eyes misted over. Her
feet burn, and she tries to wipe one off, but her hands are warm, too.
Sweat pours down her face.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon chuckles at Gaivn as his eyes come to
rest on the reluctant brown, "I doubt he'll wanna go back in. He looks
kinda cunfused, though I can't blame the poor thing."
From the hatching sands, Daffela shakes her head, "I don't know. Maybe its
a bronze or maybe he just took a fancy to it." she answers softly, tilting
her head as she does so.
From the hatching sands, Saskia peers over at Talibenth and blinks several
times, "That's very strange. I wonder what he's doing."
Drama smiles softly, preening in her higher up perch. "Yeah, I know."
From the hatching sands, Reed sifts his toes through the sand pending
burns up the wazzoo. But he doesn't even seem to notice any of this, with
his feet, as there's too much going on around him for that. The brown gets
a good look, then the blue to see where he's gone off to chose.
From the hatching sands, Furtive Flecked Sandstone Brown Hatchling cranes
his neck around to take in all the fuss going on around him. As if that
view decides him, he gets to his feet and takes first one step, then
another and another until he waddling as fast as his little legs will
carry him across the sands, directly for Maylia. Suddenly he stops. No,
that's not the right one. Another look is given to the ring of white
robes. Maybe one of them...
From the hatching sands, Pakse has her own thoughts about Talibenth's
actions, but now lacks someone to share them with. So she just turns to
the poor brown. "He should start looking," she says to no one.
X'dren grins at Alane. "The blue looks as lost as one in Mauroth's
clutch..."
Alane hugs X'dren. "It's not because Mauroth is green. If you leave me
here what will I do? Become a cavern wench. I don't think so. My parents
were both riders!" She grins up at X'dren.
Anselm chuckles at Drama, and admonishes, "Just watch now, you silly
Little Girl Guy." Apparently, the Steward does indeed speak Dramaese.
From the hatching sands, The half-circle of Candidates parts suddenly,
with a few of the white-robed figures diving back as a hatchling rips
through, the Delicacy's Dangerous Deception Egg lying broken behind her.
The dragonet is a tiny green, her leafy green hide bringing to mind the
branches of a tree whipping about in the wind as her muscles ripple during
her chase. Her quest ends as her right wing, which had been spread out to
help her maintain her balance, knocks a girl from Balan Hold off of her
feet. The dragonet angrily whips her head around to see what dared touch
her and in an instant her eyes calm down to a lazy whirl while she
lovingly nudges her muzzle against the girl's chest.
From the hatching sands, Keron calls out softly to the brown, now moving.
"Oh beautiful brown, am I the right one for you?"
"I'm watching, I'm watching! See?" Drama leans over, wrapping her legs
around Anselm's neck and craining over the stands. "Yup, still there."
From the hatching sands, Ryen smiles as he watches Keron tempt the brown.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn nods a second time at Annie, for lack of
something better to do, and then just agrees. Doubtfully, "They say they
get better. Takes a while, just like caprines and all, but at least they
have their mothers to lick 'em dry... did you hear Keron? Talking to them,
him."
X'dren pats Alane's shoulder reassurringly. "Your parents would probably
eat me alive... Ah well." he pretends to surrender.
Alane cringes. "Oh, one of the candidates looks like she's been hurt. But
look. Look at the dragon. I think she's impressed!"
From the hatching sands, Keron smiles back to Ryen, "Oh wouldn't it be
wonderful, just think."
From the hatching sands, Maylia returns to the sands, her jacket loosened
in deference to the heat. A measuring look is given to the sandstone brown
as he skids to a halt, breaking into a grin. "G'wan, now," she chides, and
keeps moving.
Anselm chokes silently as he gets garroted by Dram's legs, and reaches up
to reset her. "My my, look at that lovely blue..and the brown..and oh! a
green. What a lovely one. So many greens...." He remembers his earlier
dictate, "Annie! Brown! Or blue!"
From the hatching sands, Myklan shifts his weight again, from foot to
foot, then moves to close up a gap made in the semi-circle by Impressions,
watching the remaining eggs studiously...
Dyane grins over at Anselm then reaffirms. "Blue. Just like my K'ti's."
From the hatching sands, D'ton spends several moments vainly attempting to
get the newest pair's attention as the new greenrider and her lifemate
nuzzle each other in complete absorption. Finally, he coaxes them off the
sands by talking about food.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon does the candidate dance, moving from
one foot to the other. Her hand is still grasping Trilana's and her eyes
are fixed on the eggs and the dragonets closest to her.
From the hatching sands, Keron gazes at the brown, calling soft
encouragements to him, ignoring and comments abotu his behavior. He smiles
at Ryen who seems to be on his side.
Alane hugs X'dren. Well, parent anyway. He would be most put out if he had
to come to Telgar to take me to Reaches."
Ryglenn makes a face and says, "Just like K'ti's..? Mmm."
Drama just yells 'Annie!' since the others all. The typical child in a
crowd. She doesn't know why she's yelling, but if the others are, hey, why
not. Her hands flail about for added fun.
Anselm smiles radiantly to Dyane. "Perhaps a beautifulone with slightly
less of apenchant for slurping?"
From the hatching sands, With the faintest of popping sounds, the Icy
Inferno Egg crumbles into long jagged shards, tumbling the surprised
dragonet to the warm sands with a squawk. Slowly, the damp creature rights
itself, and spreads large wings to dry, sand slowly falling off the
newborn's hide as a crimson gaze takes stock of the white-robed creatures
nearby.
Burnished Beguiling Malachite Green Hatchling
A glistening draconic shape, pristine and pure as though hewn from the
most perfect mines that northern Telgar could supply, has emerged from her
ovoid confines to demonstrate that she has indeed made ample use of her
growth time within her shell. Wings are balanced to her body and defined
by outlines of impossibly dark green along the leading edge, spreading by
ripples into a richer hue along the transluscent wingsails. Likewise is
the wedged head molded into the immaculately proud lines of the best that
Faranth's descendant may induce in her offspring: nostrils are flaringly
round, muzzle peaked and prominent, eyes the luminous ruby of a just-
hatched, famished dragonet. Even those peculiar demarcations of verdant-
blended ebony, which would show a disparity of pigmentation in others,
serve only to sweep a colorful counterpoint to the lustrous gemstone green
across her tiny torso and startlingly sturdy legs. Here indeed is a lady
to do her dam and sire proud.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon leans over close to Syrali, his hopping
beginning to slow as his feet either get accustomed to the temperature or
simply lose thier feeling, "The brown seems to be going to...Oh, now he's
coming this way."
From the hatching sands, Leigh has stood still for too long as her skin
takes on the shine of sweat, wetting the bangs and curling sides of her
hair. Now that the sands' heat has penetrated the soles of her feet,
however, the Healer-cum-candidate hops with an involuntary expletive,
remembering from now on to keep moving, if only a little.
Dyane chuckles, winking at Ryglenn. "Yes." At Anselm's comment, she laughs
fully. "Perhaps not."
From the hatching sands, Syrali's fingers close hard and tight on Thae's
abruptly, her eyes on the quick motions of the dangerous green. "Th--...
oh." And she relaxes, shivering a little, again. "I thought she'd hurt
her. I... he is?"
From the hatching sands, Mournful Midnight Melody Egg is struggling now,
openly so, as the tendrils become cracks along the previously pristine
surface of the egg. Soon whoever is within will be outside that ovoid
confine.
From the hatching sands, Ceria beams as the Icy Inferno Egg finally deigns
to hatch. "Lovely," she says approvingly, grinning over at Daffela.
From the hatching sands, "Ansuth?" Trilana asks, whispering. "Ansuth? That
is you, isn't it?" she says, mouth dropping open in surprise as she looks
down at the blue in startled, reeling surprise. "Of course you are mine,"
she says finally, in a louder, firmer, more confident voice. "Yes, and we
will get you some food presently. Immediately, you're right."
From the hatching sands, Pakse jumps at the arrival of the new green, gaze
and ahh giving her the respect she deserves. "Quite the little lady?"
From the hatching sands, Furtive Flecked Sandstone Brown Hatchling pauses
in his tracks as the Weyrlingmaster's voice carries to him. Maybe she *was*
right? No, something else is pulling him, and so he continues onward
towards the circle of candidates. One female gets a sniff, but then he
moves on, looking for, looking for... Suddenly he finds it, in the form of
a blue-eyed young man.
From the hatching sands, Keron eyes open as he sees a green pop from the
egg. "Oh a green." He abviously goes back to the brown with his calling and
tempting.
Bhalth flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
From the hatching sands, River of Gold Egg shifts in its warm hollow,
sending rivulets of sand spilling over its sides. A faint tapping is
audible from within, but only for a moment.
X'dren half-croons himself at the sight of another green hatchling.
R'ehn climbs down Bhalth's side to the ground, as the dragon rumbles softly.
E'vrin leans. "Trilana? Was that Trilana?" /His/ Trilana!
From the hatching sands, Rillanon leans over to hug her friend, but stands
back, not wanting to disturb the happy moment. She lets out a sigh.
From the hatching sands, Daffela blinks, haveing been lookign right at the
Ice Inferno Egg when it broke and she catches ehr breath atthe sight of the
green. "Oh my. She's perfect." For a hatchling newly shelled, of course.
Impressions occur and she scarcely seems to notice.
From the hatching sands, Saskia smiles widely at Trilana and calls out to
her "Congrats Tril!"
From the hatching sands, Ceria looks startled as she takes note of Trilana
and the blue. "Congratulations," she calls over to the pair who are
oblivious to everything but each other and food.
Aurian giggles at the green, "I'm sure Talibenth was startled." She glances
to Trilana, "Ansuth a fine fine name." She blinks, "I think the gold just
moved."
From the hatching sands, Talibenth raises his voice in a bright bugle that
falters for just a second as the green comes tumbling from the shards of
the egg. But then he lowers his head to look closely at the young
hatchling, cocking it to the side slightly.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn adds speculatively, "Herath is awfully big.
And I bet her tongue is, too. But not -quite- big enough... Faranth, and
look at her. Yeah, he is, or was, and look, there's Trilana, and..." it
couldn't be a sound, there across the way, that draws his attention to the
skinny, hopping redhead. Not over such a distance.
Alane leans comfortably against X'dren. Totally unconscious of what she's
doing. "Look, another green pair."
From the hatching sands, Claws poke out through a crack in the Dancing
Decisive Dice Egg, scrabbling at the thin gap until the self-assured brown
hatchling within is released. He seems in no great hurry--leisurely, even,
about making the rounds of the Candidates. One black-haired young man
originally from High Reaches is considered for a long time before the
dragonet turns and runs, kicking sand up towards the poor lad's face.
Lucrakan stands frozen at the end of the path the brown has now
chosen--frozen, it would seem, by delight. "Skillth, of course we'll always
be together," L'uck assures the hatchling in tones of confidence.
From the hatching sands, Herath croons at the charming green as she
hatches, leaning down to get a closer look at her before turning to be sure
the gold egg is still staying put...well, almost put. A roll of her
weyrmate's eyes precede a called congratulations to Trilana. "Ansuth, did
she say? Another interesting name," Kindre notes and smiles.
R'ehn tries to slide down off Bhalth's side, tug off his jacket, and look
for a less than too crowded spot to sit all at once. He murmurs something
about making boots out of blue dragons and being late.
Torinth leaps off the ledge.
Telgar Weyr> Aurian groans at the pun
Kassima leans forward, too, the better to see. "To *blue*?" she repeats, a
bit startled. "I'd have sworn... well, she'll make a fine
bluerider--dragons know best! Ansuth's nay a bad name, either. Hey! R'ehn!
Where's your kilt?" she hails her Wingmate.
From the hatching sands, Maylia appears just behind Trilana, her hand
reaching for the girls' shoulder. "And that food's just this way,
weyrling." There's something about how she pronounces that title, almost
caressing the word. "If you'll help Ansuth this way, you'll find what you
need."
Telgar Weyr> Erdrick laughs.
From the hatching sands, R'yn looks down at the little dragonet... "Dagazth?"
E'vrin looks thataway, towards the newcome rider. "Is this one of your
pawns?" he has to ask Kassima quietly. Poor R'ehn.
From the hatching sands, Reed glances over Trilana's way and smiles. "Oh,
congratulations!" he calls, having deja-vou. He nods over towards the one
egg Talibenth had been fawning over as it hatches, grinning. "There we go."
The brown's choice causes another, "Way to go!" to emerge from his throat,
directed towards R'yn.
Aurian blinks at R'yn, "Where was he from again?"
From the hatching sands, Burnished Beguiling Malachite Green Hatchling
turns her head upwards to look at the big bronze that sort of bugled when
it got a good look at her. She lifts her head proudly and squawks back at
him. And promptly tumbles backwards into the sand, neither vocals nor
muscles being in perfect control just yet.
From the hatching sands, Ansuth wuffles the robe of his lifemate, Trilana
as he contently follows her whereever their paths lead.
From the hatching sands, Syrali breathes, "Trilana," shaking her head
slowly. "It's so fast," she whispers, catching now R'yn's Impression. "And
another one. Oh, Thae..."
From the hatching sands, Annie glances over at Gaivn, only catching one
part. "Why would you care how big Hearth's tongue is? Huh?" Blue eyes shift
from one new hatching to the other.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon calls out to Ryen, er R'yn, "Congrats!"
Alane beams and says loudly. "Reaches!"
From the hatching sands, Ceria turns slightly, looking over the remaining
eggs and hatchlings. Her gaze comes to rest on R'yn and she calls out
another congratulations.
From the hatching sands, R'yn swallows hard as he looks at the little one.
"Yes, you are mine and I am yours." he says calmly lost.
From the hatching sands, Keron sighs a little and looks about for a
hatchling, seeing only a green, he shuffles his feet. "Congrats R'yn. I
knew you would."
X'dren shakes Alane's arm with enthusiasm of emphasizing, "Hey! he gor a
brown!" (Yeah, the kid from 'Reaches.)
R'ehn hears the dreaded k-word, and -proof- that he's an idiot, he heads
towards the sound. Finding a seat nearish Kassima he offers, "I was in a
hurry, boss-lady. No time."
From the hatching sands, Thaelon spare's a moment of watching to cheer for
the newly impressed pairs, "Yay Trilana and R'yn!" He wipes the sweat from
his brow and nods quickly to Syrali, "Too right."
From the hatching sands, The Molten Sunbeam Egg shivers slightly as if it
was cold and buries itself deeper in the burning sand. Minutes pass with
nary a movement from the egg when suddenly, in a flurry of tapping and
pounding, the sunshine-streaked ovoid is shattered. Still swinging away,
the mossy green hatchling within tumbles to the sand, creeling helplessly
as she struggles to her feet. A weyrlingmaster warns the Candidates back
and so the small creature is forced to battle alone. Another minute passes
and then two more before Cxirinth finds the strength to waddle determinedly
over to a white-robed figure, chitterbugling at him like an old auntie.
"I'm sorry," M'lar moans as he hugs the small, green head to his chest.
"They said I couldn't help."
From the hatching sands, Saskia turns her wide smile on Ryen "Congrats" She
pauses for a moment then adds "R'yn~xfdhftp 10.0.0.20
Bradamante turns toward T'vor, leaning forward to shout across the noise
and bustle of the crowds to ask "Any Fort on the sands?"
From the hatching sands, Trilana shakes her head in awe as she reaches down
to stroke Ansuth's neck gently. "Oh... oh yes of course," she whispers as
she turns towards Maylia from her kneeling position. Ansuth is helped back
to his feet and the pair -- the blue weyrling pair -- follow Maylia
exultantly.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn purses his lips. "Why do i even try to keep
this straight," he says to Kindre. "Who was that? Ryen? And... Dagazth?"
From the hatching sands, Rillanon now stands all alone, and although she is
proud of her friends, she feelsjust a little bit lonely. But still, there
are plenty of eggs left.
From the hatching sands, Leigh glances towards Trilana's joyful outcry,
then Ryen...R'yn's, her lips smiling for them, yet her attention -- could
one see her eyes clearly from the distance of the galleries -- elsewhere.
Seeking, searching, not finding...for the last time. After that final scan
the petite girl keeps herself focused on the sands and the contents
thereof, candidates and hatchlings and heat.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn futilely scrubs his palms over his robe,
looking away from malachite green and Leigh alike. "It's, uh, herder stuff,
Annie. That's it. Tell you later?"
From the hatching sands, Trilana heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
From the hatching sands, Ansuth heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
Kassima, who is kilted herself, assures E'vrin, "He is. See the scary hair?
R'ehn, you've missed a few--but so far, let me tell you, I'm smoking the
bets. I'm going t'buy E'vrin an island."
From the hatching sands, R'yn smiles with wide eyes. "You are hungry...
yes... lets get us something to fill that belly shall we?"
Anselm sighs softly. "Oh well, another blue gone to the winds. Let's have
for another hmm?" Helaughs his musical laugh.
From the hatching sands, Burnished Beguiling Malachite Green Hatchling
slowly rights herself again, shaking herself off energetically. She
headbutts the nearest egg as if blaming it for her fall, then suddenly
charges towards the white robed cluster of candidates, as if unable to stop.
From the hatching sands, Annie nods at the boy, shruging. "Yeah. That's
something I might like to understand..." Her eyes crinkle as she see's
Ryen--R'yn and she lifts a hand in cheer.
From the hatching sands, Kindre bobs her head to M'hryn and laughs lightly.
"Faranth's ghost, I can hardly keep up myself," she quips between chuckles.
"Ryen...er, R'yn now...should prove to be quite a pair."
Alane stares at Kassima for a long moment. She looks so familiar.
From the hatching sands, Maylia's busy this evening, as nearby Ryen is
found by his lifemate. Pausing as she leads Trilana from the sands, she
gestures to the lad. "Aye, R'yen. Food and oil are in there," and the
Weyrlingmaster points the way.
From the hatching sands, Along the jagged shapes of obelisks came the first
cracks to mar the Mournful Midnight Melody Egg; now, as the hatchling
within pounds against them even more than do the illusory waves, they split
asunder at long last to spill a small, wet bundle of blue draconic flesh
out onto the Sands.
Copper's Cobalt Chemistry Blue Hatchling
When the verdigris of copper is polished away, there is a splendid blue
that remains: darker than the midday sky and yet lighter than a sapphire,
glinting with a metallic undertone, it is unique in its peculiar luster.
This same blue shade shimmers across the still-damp hide of this small
hatchling, drawing the eye towards the scintillating sight of him. Along
lithe, serpentine tail, curved neck, and draping wings, the tincture of
violet makes an appearance. It shades slowly to a startling hint of
iridescent purple-pink along the very edges of his wingsails, visible as he
spreads them out to dry in the Hatching Grounds heat. Flecks of true-copper
dust neckridges and underbelly. Claws' wicked curvature is marked by more
of the same. Even his first brazen bugle of greeting to the world is not
unmarked by metal; it carries a hint of copper's chime, clarion against the
sound of splintering shells.
From the hatching sands, Reed blinks towards the charging green and hastily
tenses his muscles to move should she come barreling his way, and not be
able to stop in time.
From the hatching sands, Pakse watches the green nervously, but with
intrest. Is she going to slam into someone?"
From the hatching sands, Syrali gulps, scootching back a little. "Uh oh.
She's coming this way."
E'vrin gives R'ehn a lazy smile. "Our own tropical island," he adds. "Come
have a seat, I guess; going without a kilt isn't /bad,/ in this weather."
From the hatching sands, R'yn nods as he leads his new lifemate towards food.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon watches the malachite green, as well as
any others that are about. She moves over to another candidate that stands
all alone, and whispers something to her.
From the hatching sands, River of Gold Egg twitches more violently this
time, in tandem with a sudden flurry of noise.
From the hatching sands, R'yn heads off towards the bowl on the way to the
weyrling barracks.
K'tyn snorts awake. "Blast," he mutters. I can't believe I fell asleep
during this commotion."
From the hatching sands, Furtive Flecked Sandstone Brown Hatchling heads
off towards the bowl on the way to the weyrling barracks.
From the hatching sands, Leigh's eyes widen at the green barrelling towards
the clustered barefoot lot of hopefuls. She takes a quick step backwards.
Bradamante whistles low then "Nice blues in this clutch!"
Aurian oohs, "Another blue chap. Wow.."
From the hatching sands, Keron looks at the green and gives it a sidelong
hopeful glance but then, lo and behold, a beautiful blue emerges. "Ooooh.
You are so beautiful."
"Mmmm," Meli murmurs, pointing toward the new blue. "Competition for Adonith."
From the hatching sands, Ceria clutches at Daffela's hand and squeaks a bit
as the green charges across the Sands. The her gaze darts to the new blue
hatchling, the gold egg, and back to the green.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon chuckles at the green, though his laughter
is short lived as the small dragonet charges towards them, "Oh! She's in a
hurry!"
"Congratulations, then." R'ehn offers with an amused grin. "An island's a
good thing." He can't help but whistle at the newest blue. Blue being the
superior color and all.
From the hatching sands, "Whoaboy." Annie backs away from the charging
dragonets, giving them all wide birth and a clear path. She nearly collides
into Leigh's space.
From the hatching sands, Copper's Cobalt Chemistry Blue Hatchling steps
away from the shards that have been left behind in the devestation of his
egg during hatching...what cares he? The largest shard receives a nudge
with his nose, but it's not edible, nor is it what he seems to want aside
from food, so he begins to walk toward the Candidates, a thin creel of
interest coming from his elongated throat.
Anselm says "Oh that blue is beautiful!" The Steward exclaims, "My father's
eyes...he looks /just/ that color!"
From the hatching sands, Daffela hides a squeak. She can't squeak. Not even
as she watches the green barrel over the sand with wide open eyes. "Another
blue... Oh Faranth!"
From the hatching sands, Overwhelmingly Obnoxious Omnipotence Egg shudders
once, dislodging its precarious balance and tips over, sliding about half a
foot down a small hillock of sand.
From the hatching sands, The candidate next to Rilla nods, whispering
something back. The two stand together, holding hands, even though before
today neither knew each other very well. They watch in silence.
From the hatching sands, Saskia erks and takes a step back from the
charging green, and almost backs into Leigh. She erks again and hastily
apologises to her compatriot. "So sorry."
From the hatching sands, Pakse turns her attention brifly to the beautiful
blue, but the charging green is the more immediate threat.
From the hatching sands, Reed now has more than one problem, obviously. He
watches the blue out of the corner of his eye, the green off of the other
side, and a few rocking eggs occasionally make him go cross-eyed.
From the hatching sands, Keron looks at the blue with longful eyes, hopeful
eyes, eyes that try to say, 'come to me'. "Oh little blue, come over here
so that I may gaze upon you more." He seems to be in an eccentric poetic mood.
From the hatching sands, A crack zig-zags along the side of the Purple
Horizon Egg, splitting it like a lightning bolt shatters the night sky.
Wet, black talons, still soft from the months in the egg, pry at the edges
of the crack, until a verdant-colored head pokes through. A lad from Fort
Sea Hold steps forward as if summoned, his ruddy face registering surprise
as the green awkwardly slithers free of her birthhome and moves towards
him, her lime-streaked tail dragging in the sand. Tenderly he wipes the goo
still clinging to her headknobs and muzzle as Impression is made.
From the hatching sands, Syrali nods uneasily. "She sure is," she says,
tensing noticeably. "And she's got claws."
From the hatching sands, Alyssa's eyes fairly gleam as the hatchlings
choose their lifemates, nods of approval and appreciation coming here and
there...and she is smiling.
Drama's legs again throttle Anselm again. "Hey, look at that Green Guy go
speedy-quick-zoom!"
Aurian leans against Kvasith's muzzle, her eyes bright with her smile.
From the hatching sands, Leigh's backstep takes her almost into both Annie
and Saskia, and she reaches out each hand to one side to stop the impending
collisions. "Sorry," mutters the redhead to those on either side of her,
casting a very wary eye towards the green as well as the blue, both so
intent on their purpose.
Anselm gaks! at Drama, and rasps. 'yes Drama....a little...looser...."
From the hatching sands, Burnished Beguiling Malachite Green Hatchling
skids to a sudden halt in front of the Candidates, showering Ceria, Daffela
and Thaelon with sand. She creels loudly as various white robed figures
hasten to get out of her way, and raises a sharp looking claw.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn hoists up his robe just a little, prepared
to run should the beguiler - or that vivid violet-touched blue, or even
some other with sharper claws and a still-tarnished hide - run his way with
uncharitable intent, "But has she learned how to... how to stop?"
Kassima agrees contentedly, "Our very own tropical island, where we'll laze
about all day and do naught but feed each other peeled grapes from bowls.
And kiwi, a'course. Ooh! What a bonny blue lad--oh, for Faranth's sake,
Lyss, cut the bugling already."
From the hatching sands, Keron whispers to himself and anyone near him, "Is
that blue for me? Do you think he wants me?"
From the hatching sands, Syrali, traitorously, promptly lets go of Thaelon
and scoots to one side a couple of steps. "C-careful, Thae," she whispers,
though he probably couldn't hear her in the din.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon yelps at the near collision, "Look out!"
She calls, and then is silent. They seem to be looking out for themselves.
X'dren gulps. "They better watch that green! She clearly wants her way--now!"
E'vrin snorts and directs his companion's attention away to a different
dragonet. "See that green? /There's/ a threatening one; I can feel it from
up here."
From the hatching sands, Maylia keeps moving across the sands, meandering
around the candidates, their ranks growing steadily thinner. Passing
Alyssa, the greenrider takes a moment to offer a smile, before she's off
again. That raised claw brings her running!
From the hatching sands, Myklan watches the one green with a wary
eye...stepping back out of the way once more.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn answers himself, "Not -well-," even as he
reaches for Thaelon's shoulder to try and tug the other lad to safety.
Alane clamps her hands over her ears from the nearby green. She's smiling
though. This is fun!
From the hatching sands, Reed pales as a claw is raised. "Aiee...move move
move," he mutters to the candidates closest to the hatchling, slowly edging
himself away from the group.
From the hatching sands, Pakse takes a step forward now that the green has
stopped, but watching that claw intently.
From the hatching sands, Daffela goes sideways, backing up and keeping a
wary eye out for others as well as watching the green. "Careful..." she
murmurs, mostly to herself.
From the hatching sands, Annie glances to her side, blinking at the
contact. "Oh, Leigh! Saskia... sorry."
D'thon leans forward intently, watching the drama more closely now.
From the hatching sands, Keron ignores the green, who is not near him, but
tries to entice the blue to come ever closer.
From the hatching sands, Ceria ducks as she's covered with sand. She takes
a careful step back, trying to avoid the claw.
Solarith flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
Anselm gasps. "Look--the green--it's attacking!" He is close to shrieking
like a Sally. "Annie! Get out of th--oh..shes' fine." He sighs.
Kaath flies here from the air over the hatching sands.
From the hatching sands, D'ton takes one look at the green, and sets off
towards the Candidates at a run.
From the hatching sands, Copper's Cobalt Chemistry Blue Hatchling seems to
lack the uncertainty that other hatchlings have demonstrated, because his
movements imply that he knows the white-garbed, perspiring pinkcritters
have something that he is craving. He snuffles the sand, then gives Kindre
and M'hryn brief glances - Herath receives a thin warble - then more steps
are taken toward the Candidates and a small knot in particular.
Telgar Weyr> Reed says, "Evil green. ;)"
From the hatching sands, Saskia tries to avoid Leigh and so crashes into
Annie and blushes a deep red. "I'm sorry. I'm as clumsy as a hatchling."
She smiles sheepishly at the pair and takes another step away.
Aurian scratches Kvasith's muzzle, "Yes Bronwynn impressed but she won't
have time to scratch you anymore." She watches the green with concern.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon begins backpeddling with the other
candidates, eyeing the ever nearing green cautiously, "I..I'm not sure if
she does know how to stop or not."
Telgar Weyr> Gaivn yums. ;)
Telgar Weyr> Syrali snickers.
Drama looks down at Anselm, frowning at that Guy. "Hey, Xeana can take care
of herself over baby dragons anyday." The illusion younger siblings hold
for their elder ones.
Lirra vaults down Kaath's side to the ground, as the dragon rumbles softly.
R'ehn turns away from his regard of the sands as a familiar green lands.
Offering Kaath's rider a decidedly pleased wave he calls, "Heya Lirra, we
didn't miss it altogether."
Alane giggles at the seemingly out of control green dragonette. "Look at
that one. Will you?"
From the hatching sands, Keron squirms and slowly advances on the blues
position, never getting /too/ close, but enough for him. "Oh little blue.."
From the hatching sands, Herath warbles back to the little blue, something
of a smirk is implied by her demeanor. "He's an interesting little one,"
Kindre comments as the blue hatchling heads towards the circle of Candidates.
Anselm ahems to Drama, "I can still be worried."Why argue.
From the hatching sands, Reed turns his attention to the blue. That's a
much more friendly figure at the moment. "Ahem...you seem like a nice
fellow..." he mutters, wearily looking over his shoulder to see what
exactly that green is doing.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn watches the candidates near the little
green, his eyes sidling towards Kindre briefly, moth set in to a worried
frown.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon stands, almost digging her feet into the
sand, even though the burns hurt. She watches the blue, and the green, and
the candidate next to her. "Ohhhh," she whispers.
From the hatching sands, Maylia yells, "Blast it!" as she heads for the
threatening green, "We warn'em every time!" Ducking quickly to avoid
fleeing candidates, hot sand sprays up from her booted feet.
Kassima grimaces at the green. "Get the shards out of the way!" she yells
down to the Candidates--not, of course, that they're apt to hear her.
"Shardit, you tell 'em and tell 'em...."
From the hatching sands, Annie omfs against Saskia, extending a hand and
making a triangle of the three girls. She grins, wrinkeling her nose.
"Don't /worry/, Sas. We're all in this together."
From the hatching sands, Alyssa's mouth thins in a line, though she holds
her position as Maylia takes matters well in hand.
X'dren mutters to Alane, "... green... reach..."
From the hatching sands, A fusillade of crystalline green shards settles
over the Sands as the Glasscrafter's Crystal Green Egg shatters. The
dappled ivy green dragonet emerges with wings fluttering as they stretch to
strafe nearby Candidates with shell fragments colored like fire-blown
emeralds. Step-hop, repeat, and hie onward, the dragonet stops only
fleetlingly by a group of three girls huddled together before passing by
them with a cocksure toss of her elongated head. Choosing a thin, fidgety
older candidate, Gydath propels D'yre toward the edge of the Sands by
nudging him from behind to cause him to scoot several feet ahead of her
before he darts back to her side.
From the hatching sands, Pakse looks to her two empty sides, wondering how
that happened. Then she looks back to the green and blue, one hand
replacing and escaped black lock.
Lirra slips down easily, a bundle on her back that she quickly loosens from
the modified backpack and swings around to her front as she hurries over
towards R'ehn with a grin. "Of all things...heya," she greets R'ehn and
settles down beside him.
Alane looks again at the rider that seem so familiar to her. X'dren
distracts her and she nods. "I know."
From the hatching sands, "And we'll all get gored together," Leigh reminds
Annie, breaking the contact. "/Move/...she's not going to stop."
From the hatching sands, Gaivn confirms breathlessly, "We'll f-find out,"
as he continues his mission, incautious of the sands' danger to ankles
unbraced by boots. At least Saskia isn't rumored to have claws.
From the hatching sands, Daffela stills then stareing at the green
silently, shocked even. "Teiwazth." she manages, shaken to the core.
"Teiwazth... Of course... Of course we can find food."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon lets out a cry and calls to Daff, "Oh
congratulations, Daffy!"
Telgar Weyr> Meli says, "Could someone later tell me how to pronounce
these? :)"
Aurian grins as she sees Daffela, "Thank Faranth it wasn't a mauling."
From the hatching sands, Leigh exhales relief. "She stopped," mentions the
Master of ObviousCraft.
From the hatching sands, Ceria smiles shakily at Daffela.
"Congratulations," she calls softly, backing a bit further away.
From the hatching sands, Reed aahs quietly towards Daffela. "Good...watch
out for any claws..." he calls with a somewhat bemused expression, then
relaxes some and gets back to gazing towards the others.
From the hatching sands, Kindre watches D'ton and Maylia dash across the
sands. She worries her lower lip while shaking her head just a little.
"Crackdust," is a whispered curse that slips out of her mouth before
Daffela's Impression pulls her attention. "Oh, congrats dearheart!
Teiwazth...lovely name."
From the hatching sands, Saskia reaches out and squeezes Annie's hand
gently, "That's true. I do hope you stay.." She doesn't finish her
sentence, but instead jerks her head towards the green. "Oh! Daffy!
Congrats!" and lets out a soft whoosh of air.
Penath bubles towards Daffela. One of Fort's Impressed.
Telgar Weyr> Kymria says, "Like runes with a -th on the end. More I can't
tell you. ;)"
X'dren lets out a deep breath in a heavy puff. "Phew!"
Telgar Weyr> Kesya guesses: tey waz th.
Alane nod's at X'dren, letting her own breath out.
From the hatching sands, Syrali's held breath shudders out, and she sneaks
back toward Thaelon, looking apologetic. "C-congratula-ations, Daff," she
manages through teeth clenched in nervousness, and her attention turns back
toward the unpartnered dragons. Claws. Yes, claws.
Telgar Weyr> Trilana says, "Ansuth is easy."
From the hatching sands, Thaelon let's out a sigh of relief as the green
comes to a stop in front of her lifemate and he calls out, "Congrats
Daffela!" He straightens his robe and walks back a bit closer to the mound,
glancing over at the candidates on each side of him.
Anselm leans forward,holding onto Drama's knees to see Annie. "Oh...she
isn't hurt...or Impressed." The Steward sounds somewhere bewteen relieved
and disappointed.
Dyane glances at Penath then at T'vor. "One of yours?" she asks with a smile.
Drama yelps, "Hey! Them girls is gonna knock Xeana over...! Oh, wait. All
better." She sags down ontop of Anselm's head.
Telgar Weyr> Kesya grins. Luck you :)
Telgar Weyr> Trilana giggles.
Anselm pats Drama sweetly. "Everything is alright," he assures her.
"Tei-whuzzuth?" Kassima tries, blinking up at Lyss. "Oh... well, it
actually rather suits her. Daffela, huh? Fitting! Are Sharath and Bhalth
pleased t'see so many greens?" she asks the maleriders nearby, with a hint
of a grin.
From the hatching sands, Overwhelmingly Obnoxious Omnipotence Egg shifts
again, the motion of the egg digging a shallow wallow in the warm sand
beneath, like a burrowing creature trying to find the safety of the ground.
From the hatching sands, The River of Gold egg begins to sway in its place
for several long moments. Finally, it actually gets itself free from the
hollow in which Herath buried it, and starts to roll slowly across the
sands. When it stops, it lays quiet. Onlookers would likely wonder what the
little gold inside is thinking. Come out. Stay in. Come out. Whatever the
decision, she seems to be taking her time at it. Then, quicker than a woman
can change her mind, the egg simply shatters into what appears to be
hundreds of tiny shards! Sitting in the center of the shells litter is
Telgar's newest queen.
Benden Vineyard Gold Hatchling
The illusion of noonday suns beating down upon warm damp earth comes alive
in this birth-fresh dragon. Her feet are mottled with the hues of fertile
ground, recently watered and carefully tilled, which brings to mind the
humble beginning of prized rewards. Stretching up along the autumn-maize
hued hide are traceries of rich green, the exact color of the treasured
vines which bear Benden's famous golden grapes. Flourishes of emerald and
amber cascade down along her legs, torso and tail in cluster-like patterns
of various sizes. Wingsails, though still damp, are delicately brushed with
fluffy white clouds outlined in shimmering sky blue. Hints of that blue
dance in fine wisps up her majestic neck and onto her regal muzzle. Here,
faceted eyes whirl a shade akin to a deep Benden Red -- hunger mixed with
love.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn, Craftsecond, witnesses with a, "She sure
did. Yes, she did. But..." the ivy green's no longer searching, but what
about that copper-dusted blue? He catches up with Thaelon for a better view.
Aurian gasps at the gold, "Oh my.."
T'vor grins at Anselm, "Greens are by far the most common."
Anselm's eyes widen in amazement. "By the first Egg...."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon lets out a deep breath, her smile not
completly hiding the disapointence she feels inside. And then - "Ahhh! The
gold!" The girl next to her grabs her arm, and they watch together in
happyness.
From the hatching sands, Ceria gasps suddenly as the gold choses this
moment to make her entrance. She takes an involuntary step forward before
halting herself.
X'dren gawks at the gold in astonishment. "Whoah....!"
From the hatching sands, D'ton looks visibly relieved when Daffela
Impresses Teiwazth without injury, and says to her, "Congratulations, lass.
Why don't we get the two of you off the Sands and over to the food now?"
From the hatching sands, Annie's eyes follow Saskia's, watching the last
moments of Daff impression. Again, her mouth turns up. "She did it!"
Dyane blinks, then her eyes widen. "Beautiful." she gasps.
From the hatching sands, The Preternatural Putrid Primrose Egg and
Tremendously Turbulent Tangerine Egg both shatter at once, revealing a pair
of greens as unalike each other as can be: one is a pale lady who steps
with care and caution towards the Candidates; the other is more robust and
clover-hued, striking, brash--and knowing *just* whom she wants. "Oh,
Shamroth!" L'chaun, once Lyrichadun, exclaims in a broken voice. As though
that spurs her on, the first green starts to turn that way... but then
pauses, changes course, and makes a mad dash straight for a chunky young
man who has been hovering shyly at one end of the semi-circle. "Roasth!"
Barrefe shouts, taking steps to meet her halfway. "Yes, I am your B'eef!"
From the hatching sands, Maylia's breath explodes in a gasp of relief as
Daffela escapes unscathed. "You'll have to learn to duck, weyrling." she
states, continuing past her at a jog, heading for the next impression.
From the hatching sands, Daffela lets out the long breath she scarecly knew
she was holding, moveing forward instantly to touch, to help her lifemate,
"Yes, together. Forever." shes not making sense. "This way love," manages
dazedly looking for the way off the sands.
From the hatching sands, Pakse just stares at the new queen. And queen she
is, no matter what her size. The heat has faded to a dull pain, and the
blue still gets a glance or two.
Alane leans over to get a closer look, GOLD!
Telgar Weyr> Saskia groans "Oh that was *bad*" :)
Telgar Weyr> Aurian debates beating people.
From the hatching sands, Keron gazes upon the gold with wonder, but no
hopefullness because he will never Impress a gold. He still gazes upon the
blue intently.
Anselm leans forward to Dyane, careful to keep Drama steady, "Are golds not
evil? I think Annie would be...no, I mustn't say such things."
Telgar Weyr> Kesya agrees. Groan.
From the hatching sands, Herath CROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONS a welcome to
Telgar's newest queen! "Oh dearest," Kindre murmurs as she gives Herath's
foreleg a brief hug, "You and Talibenth have surely done the Weyr well.
She's lovely..." A snort from the ever-conceited Herath implies that she
knows as much.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn smiles as the situation with the young
green diffuses into an Impression. He then pauses and looks towards Herath,
reaching to touch Kindre's arm. "The gold," he smiles.
Telgar Weyr> A'lex just shakes his hands and gladly admits to haveing
NOTHING to do with that.
Telgar Weyr> Erdrick Doesn't say "Where's the B'eef?"
From the hatching sands, Daffela heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
E'vrin gives the gold a careful look -- such a little dot down there,
insignificant against the entirety of the event -- and then peers for that
blue.
Solarith bugles down to the tiny gold, letting her know she has at least
one admirer already.
From the hatching sands, Reed turns towards the gold for a moment and
gapes, as best a male can towards one of those. "Wow." He compliantly
forgets about all of the other hatchlings and eggs, and just shifts back
and forth, watching that gold.
Nyth bugles a greeting to the young queen! Keriann winces at the increased
level of noise, but she doesn't take her eyes off the Sands.
Telgar Weyr> Kassima hides from the people with beating sticks.
From the hatching sands, Burnished Beguiling Malachite Green Hatchling
heads off towards the bowl on the way to the weyrling barracks.
From the hatching sands, Myklan's attention, like most of the others', is
drawn to the newborn queen, and he actually cracks half a smile.
Dyane arcs a brow at Anselm but doesn't reply.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa's eyes widen, and she sighs as the gold
appears. "Well done, Herath...oh, what a glorious daughter...!"
From the hatching sands, Ceria's feet shift in an everpresent rhythm she is
no longer aware of. She watches a few new Impressions before her curiuos
gaze is drawn back to the beautiful young queen.
Alane covers her ears.
Telgar Weyr> Reed snickers, and gets paged something about /Queen/
goldriders. ;)
Kassima is too focused on the Sands to notice much more than the immediate
surroundings; the gold is afforded a brief look and a thoughtfully pursed
mouth. "Pretty," she allows. "But Benden-blooded golds all are... did that
blue Impress yet?"
Telgar Weyr> R'ehn snickers excessively.
Kvasith rumbles brightly towards the little gold.
Telgar Weyr> Neliea ohs and just shakes her head. Strange people. ;)
From the hatching sands, Benden Vineyard Gold Hatchling delicately spreads
her wings to dry them, oblivious to the white-robed candidates--for the
moment. Tailtip twitching in the sand, she turns to regard her dam and sire
calmly, as if wondering what to do next.
From the hatching sands, Saskia smiles to Leigh and Annie, then smoothes
down her robe. She tilts her head and glances at the gold curiously.
Aurian shakes her head, "No the blue is still poking about."
From the hatching sands, Copper's Cobalt Chemistry Blue Hatchling sits back
on his haunches and, again stretching his throat, creels with the hatchling
equivalent of a trumpet, as though emulating the brassy declarations of his
sire. He is conveying something. Something certain, something definite.
Forefeet plop onto the ground again for balance before he proceeds toward
something petite and coppery of hair, using it for a beacon. What he
desires, what he craves, is right there, and he heads toward it.
From the hatching sands, There the Protective Provoking Parchment Egg was,
minding its own business, when one of its wandering clutchsibs happened to
bump into it and crack its glorious shell. Really, the nerve! But that does
get its occupant started on the track to widening that opening--widening it
enough to allow him out into the world, and to reveal the glorious inky
blue of his hide. Shaking fragments from his wings, he prowls the Sands
quietly, unseen... unseen until he rears up on his haunches, bugling his
joy at finding his most unsuspecting choice! "Oh, Lohiroth," B'coy
breathes, dropping a hand to find just the right scritching place on the
young blue's eyeridge. "Yes, I've been waiting just for you too."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon shakes a little, and she and the other
girl hold each other for fear of collapsing. THey excitement. The joy.
Everything.
From the hatching sands, Kindre's head bobs as she looks at M'hryn. "Let's
hope she has her sire's temperment," she quips quietly and smiles.
N'kshar watches the gold closely from his perch atop his lifemate.
"Allright Syr, c'mon."
Mauroth croons sweetly, as if an adult human saying "Oh you're so CUTE!"
From the hatching sands, Leigh watches the gold hatch, but at first glimmer
of her bright hide, her head whips around towards the cobalt blue,
resolutely refusing to even look at the queen. Over and over her mouth
forms a single syllable of negation.
X'dren takes a grip on Alane's shoulders, pulling her back a little bit
from the edge of the teirs. "Hey--don't fall in! They'll think you're to be
eaten!"
From the hatching sands, D'ton hustles B'coy and Lohiroth off the Sands,
keeping a close eye on the rest of the chaotic scene.
From the hatching sands, Reed clamps his hands together in front of him now
and watches the gold, and occasionally the blue.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn looks at Kindre with mock alarm. "Shells! I
hope not. She'll be wedging herself into the lower caverns just to see
what's back there all the time. And who knows what it'd do to the image of
the Weyr if she has to regularily be pulled out with ropes by the other
dragons."
X'dren grins at Alane mischievously.
From the hatching sands, Keron looks upon the blue, for if it should head
his way he will be ready. "A wonderful gold. Such a pretty blue too."
Alane chuckles. "Aw, I wasn't gonna fall. I just wanted to see better."
Aurian chews on her thumb as she watches the proceedings. Hmmm one might
think she was flashing backwards.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn has to use his height, vulnerable toes
digging into the sand to brace his look up, over the vine-traced hatchling
and to blue - Leigh - blue. Will there be chemistry indeed?
Kassima bounces a bit in place, leaning again to try and watch that blue.
"Who's he looking at?" she demands. "Who, who?"
From the hatching sands, Syrali scuffs her feet, throat working, and licks
her lips again. "Th-they're going away," she notes, perhaps to Thaelon, but
not really looking at the boy. "Look at that blue... and..." Her voice
breaks on a squeak, catches, and her hand slips from Thaelon's. "Oh-hhh....
Oh, you really... really /do/ know your name," she says shakily, her eyes
caught and held. Then with an incredulous smile, she reaches forward and
touches her hands to the young blue's muzzle. "Hagalath!"
From the hatching sands, Now that the collision has been averted, Annie
turns her attention as most of the caverns has been turned: to the gold.
"Isn't she just... wow." she breaths out, unable to continue with words.
Alane leaves herself with X'dren's arm about her. He can move them if he
wants to.
From the hatching sands, Saskia turns to Syrali and beams happily, "Oh Syr!
Congrats! He's perfect!"
Aurian applauds Syrali's impression, she chuckles, "I thought for sure
she'd be a greenrider."
E'vrin slides a sly glance towards D'thon and N'kshar -- was it them who'd
bet Syrali for gold? More marks for his and Kassima's island!
Bradamante tucks fingers to her mouth and whistles loud and shrill, then
breaks into laughter and pumps her fist in the air for Syrali. "Oh man, is
Shena going to be mad" she giggles.
Drama yells, "Wow! Lookie at that Gold Guy! She's like fire but not so
hottie."
From the hatching sands, Gaivn stutters, "B-but, S-syrali," closer than
he'd thought. "Uh, Thaelon?" He swallows. "What do we do now?"
From the hatching sands, Rillanon lets out a cry, "Oh Syr! He's perfect!"
From the hatching sands, Reed ahs quietly as Syrali impresses.
"Congratulations Syra, and Hagalath? Wonderful." He's practically beaming
for the pair, but he looks about ready to melt where he stands he's
sweating so profusely.
Alane sniffs. "Pretty for a gold."
From the hatching sands, Thaelon takes several steps away from Syrali as
the blue nears. Watching impression made before his eyes, he smiles, "Way
to go Syr." he says quietly, trying not to startle the blue dragonet.
From the hatching sands, Keron congradulates Syr on Impressing the blue,
and looks around for another hatchling that might be his.
From the hatching sands, In an explosion of shards, the Omnipotence Egg
bursts apart, freeing the cramped creature who was lurking within. Tumbling
forward on wobbling knees, the bronze surges free, his inquisitively angled
head peers about with eager curiosity. With a kick and a strut to his
canted step, the young male dragon lifts and spreads his wings
instinctively to dry them. With a squeak of sound that swells into a
soprano bugle, he assesses the waiting circle of candidates as he sets off
on the quest for his lifemate.
Volcanic Emerald Bronze Hatchling
The soft, dull patina of bronze worn smooth by water and time flows in
delicate swirls of muted green and muddy brown-gold over sturdy muscular
solidity. Unchallenged strength clashes with impetuous youth, his bronze
head is held boldly high to meet any threat that comes his way. Molten
flares of sun drenched gold stars at his chest, a liquid fire of light that
dances along his underbelly and drips in gilded glory along hidden
undersails, peaking in gleaming gold at the tips of his pointed talons; a
nimbus of energy that hovers around him, ready to aid him in any reckless
adventure. Wings erupt from his back, glowing with translucent parchment
hues of mossy bronze, their constrained strength barely kept in line by his
lifemate. Challenges to honor and the peril of death are in the skies; this
bronze would dare to meet them, no matter what the wise would say.
Anselm chuckles to Drama, eyes fixed on something...or someone, in
particular. "Yes, indeed."
From the hatching sands, Kindre, despite the chaos rampant on the sands,
laughs aloud at the Weyrleader's words. "Better than her noting how much
bigger she is than the Weyrlingmasters' dragons and hautily refusing to
obey them," she retorts and giggles. Syrali's Impression quickly draws her
eyes and she beams. "Hagalath and Syrali! How wonderful."
Aurian ooooohs, "Another bronze."
From the hatching sands, Ceria continues to attempt the absorbtion of
everything going on in the cavern. She's not quite successful, but she does
manage to note Syrali's Impression and call out a hasty congratulations.
Anselm says "There is a beautifulbronze. Just stunning."
Telgar Weyr> Kesya frowns as she tries to decided who for bronze and who
for gold.
X'dren whistles softly. "Impressive!"
Telgar Weyr> A'lex for Gold. :)
Telgar Weyr> Reed will make a safe assumption, not me. ;)
Dyane ooohs at the bronze.
From the hatching sands, Leigh, watching the blue closely, catches every
moment of Syrali's Impression. Suddenly the negation, even repulsion, on
her face mix with something even more unlikely: fascination. One brow
lifts. She even takes a step /towards/ the two.
From the hatching sands, Keron gaze suddenly turns, with wide eyes, to the
magnificant bronze that cometh forth from the egg. "Faranth, you are
extrodinary."
Telgar Weyr> Kesya snorts.
From the hatching sands, Maylia's far too busy dashing hither and yon to
notice the golden hatchling as anything more than a newly hatched dragon,
marking its place with her eyes. "Stop staring, keep moving!" A cluster of
candidates are told, prompting jumps as she speaks. Soon, she's by Syrali,
nodding quietly to herself. "Hagalath. Syrali? When you're ready?" With
more patience than the new weyrlings will see again for a long time, she
waits to lead them off the sands.
Telgar Weyr> Gaivn will vote for you, A'lex. Especially if you have
handouts like those pens with your name on them.
A smile slowly crosses N'kshar's face as he sees Syrali Impress. Something
seems to dawn on him as he glances towards Kassi, although the smile
doesn't go away, it just wavers for a moment. Oh well, what's money?
Telgar Weyr> Aurian just knows she's a bronze rider at heart. She leers at
A'lex.
From the hatching sands, Hagalath wraps his neck about his weyrling, his
rider, content to be with Syrali eternally. Soon as he gets food, that is.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon watches Syrali for a few more moments
before turning his gaze back to the eggs just in time to see a bronze
emerge, "Oooh, another bronze." he says, elbowing Gaivn in the ribs gently.
Telgar Weyr> Saskia says, "A'lex on bronze! Er, wait :)"
D'thon exhales in a momentary sigh. So much for that mark.
Telgar Weyr> A'lex says, "Been there, done that."
From the hatching sands, The Feather Swept Egg begins to pulse, the
feather-like silver wisps that dot its surface seeming to sway like a
curtain in the breeze. Gasps come from the Candidates nearby when, with a
final big push, the blue hatchling within bursts open the egg. Goo and
shards streak his marbled, peacock blue body as the hatchling crawls free
of his prison, raising whirling eyes towards the face of a chubby young man
from Crom.
Telgar Weyr> Kymria says, "Now *that's* something that would be
frighteni...whaddya mean it already happened? ;)"
From the hatching sands, Syrali barely nods to Maylia, too caught up in the
fascination of those eyes... those /eyes/. "Oh. Oh." She wraps her arms
around his neck in turn, her own eyes squinting shut and teared. "Loveling.
Y-yes. I know. Come on -- over here." Stumbling and giggling despite
herself, she makes her way after the Weyrlingmaster, arm still hooked
around Hagalath's neck.
From the hatching sands, Syrali heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
From the hatching sands, Hagalath heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
From the hatching sands, Reed glances back towards the way he came in and
runs his hands through his hair a few times. Saskia gets another nervous
look. "Is it almost over?"
Anselm sighs softly. "So few left....Dyane? T'vor? Perhaps Annie
will....get the gold. She is so....such a fine girl." He lowers hsi head,
looking at his feet intently.
Telgar Weyr> Kesya finaly bets on Myklan and Leigh.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn, unsuspecting, grunts with surprise and
leans back flat-footed. "Yeah. And - did ya see that, that Crom fellow, he
impressed after all? What a color, that blue. Runners are never that
color... well, never any sort of blue, really."
From the hatching sands, Benden Vineyard Gold Hatchling studies Herath, her
dam, for another moment longer before she extracts herself from the remains
of her shattered shell. No more questions about what to do--Telgar's newest
queen sets about her task of finding her lifemate with a quiet trill. Low
to the sands, she slinks off toward the dwindling semi-circle of
candidates...and pauses, canting her head to look up at Leigh. She lingers
there for a moment, considering, before she moves on.
From the hatching sands, Keron stares blankly at the bronze who seems to
hold some of the beauty of the gold with in him. "You are wonderful."
From the hatching sands, Saskia grins at Leigh, but for once doesn't say
anything, then turns to Reed, "I'm not sure. There do seem to be fewer eggs
now."
Solarith leaps off the ledge.
From the hatching sands, Pakse turns to look at the bronze, with intrest
but no hope. Rock, rock on her feet, trying to stop that aweful burning.
Glace at all the shards, then the gold briefly, then back to the bronze.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa inhales and exhales, patient but plainly
enjoying things now they've settled...then she openly admires the handsome
bronze.
From the hatching sands, Volcanic Emerald Bronze Hatchling turns his head
to look at the wings held outstretched and once again the soprano bugle
raises through the hatching cavern. As the sound dies away, the little
bronze steps forward one step, pause. Two steps. Pause. Three, four, five
steps. Then suddenly, as fast as his ungainly steps can take him he moves
straight towards the line of remaining white-robed Candidates.
From the hatching sands, Leigh takes a step back, closing her eyes tight
and turning her head away. Those nearest her might hear a forceful whisper,
"*No*."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon takes a deep breath. Poor Leigh. To be
passed over like that. The girl next to her whimpers.
From the hatching sands, Nimiriel smiles a bit distantly at the newest
queen, eyes going unfocused for a minute. "Too many memories," she murmurs,
casting a sideways glance over at Alyssa.
From the hatching sands, Ceria looks a bit lost suddenly as she realizes
she no longer has Daffela's hand to cling to. She shrugs then and jumps a
bit as she comprehends the heat and pain in her feet. Then she turns toward
the sound of the bronze's bugle.
From the hatching sands, Saskia looks at Leigh again then sighs and says
softly "Awww."
Telgar Weyr> Kesya is wrong.
Meli stretches to loosen muscles gone tight through disuse, so intent has
she been on the activity below.
From the hatching sands, Thaelon chuckles at Gaivn and nods, "Yeah. It was
a beautiful one." he replies, gaze darting between the bronze and gold
hatchlings that are getting their bearings.
From the hatching sands, Keron looks for any movement that might suggest
the bronze moving closer. "Beatiful bronze."
From the hatching sands, "Uh oh," Kindre remarks as the bronze takes off,
"I think that one may be trouble, M'hryn." The gold grabs her attention
once again, as it seems to have held Herath's.
From the hatching sands, Reed nods towards Saskia agian. "Good, then I can
go soak my feet in the lake...sands are hot hot hot..."
Anselm sniffs once as she watches the gold pass Leigh over. "My
goodness...she is certainly...directed. That queen."
Kassima watches Syr and the blue go for a few moments, and sighs softly.
"Well," she remarks, "at least we're closer to our island, m'dear.
Interesting-colored bronze, nay? From a white egg, a'course. That's
Benden-blooded tradition."
Alane leans over a little bit. Who is that gold gonna chose?
From the hatching sands, M'hryn laughs at Kindre. "Aren't they all?" he
smiles.
From the hatching sands, The Precious Pastel Pink Egg rocks, building up
speed until it keels end over end and splits open, landing the brown
dragonet in a pile of sand and egg shards. A delicate cinnamon head whips
one way and then the other, eyes whirling rapidly and shading to carmine
and ocher as the dragon sees Candidate after Candidate staring at him.
Fastidious shaking of wings, tail, and body, more reminiscent of a feline
than of a dragon, rids the brown dragonet of most of the shards sticking to
his moist hide. His refined movements carry him languidly over the Sands
until he reaches a finespun young woman, standing with a bearing fit for
any Lady Holder. Laila's dulcet soprano carries as she agrees, "Yes, the
sand must come off as soon as you've eaten, Nidawith."
From the hatching sands, Saskia frowns and looks down at her toes which she
wiggles slightly, "Yeah" and reflexively lifts first one foot then the other.
E'vrin crooks a grin and nestles his chin into Kassima's shoulder. "Sharath
came from a darkish one. It /is/ an interesting color."
Dragon> Telgar dragons sense that Torinth croons contentedly, maternally.
No one tell Herath, but she's decided this group of babies is her own.
From the hatching sands, Annie's head tilts softly, catching Leigh's words.
Her lips thin into a straight line of understanding for the other girl. The
gold, now slow close to her... she steps back to allow the lady room on the
sands.
X'dren keeps a hand wrapped about Alane's belt, just in case, but also peer
intently at the gold, holding his breath...
From the hatching sands, Rillanon smiles a smile of congratulations to
Laila and Nidawith, turning back to the gold.
A slow whisper escapes D'thon's lips. "So few," is about all that's
audible. "So few..."
Anselm gently squeezes Drama's feet.
From the hatching sands, Keron shifts on his feet, half from anxioutiy,
half from the heat. "No pain is too great to wait for someone like you." He
seems to be a little more hopeful for the magnificant bronze.
Dragon> Herath bespoke Telgar dragons with << Boy you're lucky that you're
meaner than I am, Torinth, or I might have to object. >>
Aurian suddenly looks sad as she notices how few there are, "Faranth.. no."
Drama wiggles her feet just because. "Hey, that Shinny Guy is near Annie..."
From the hatching sands, Pakse watches the other girls, then the bronze,
not even letting herself hope for that beautiful gold.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn, himself passed over by the lot of them but
managing to survive, so far, grunts again in lieu of whimpering. "He'll be
even more beautiful, well, -handsome-, when he's grown. Lucky fellow." In a
lower voice, he adds to Thaelon, "My stomach's all twisty. Shouldn't have
eaten so much at dinner. Shouldn't have eaten anything. HOw about you?"
From the hatching sands, Alyssa shifts her position, eyes on the remaining
dragons, keeping her gaze on the remaining Candidates. Her arms fold and
unfold almost rhythmically.
From the hatching sands, Reed wets his lips again and reaches down to
fiddle with the hem of his robe, running a warm finger over the zigzaggy
pattern. Overhearing Gavin, he chuckles quietly. "I ate...my stomach is fine."
From the hatching sands, Thaelon looks over at the pink egg as it splits
open and impression is almost immediate, "Wow. That one was fast." He leans
over to Gaivn and takes a deep breath, "I was too nervous to eat."
From the hatching sands, Benden Vineyard Gold Hatchling croons deep in her
throat as she continues on down the line of the candidates. Gaivn gets a
brief sniff, but...no. Something's not quite right there. Eyes whirling the
bright red of hunger, she moves along, searching. A deep purple shoots
through the depths of her whirling eyes--she's close, she's so very close!
Finally, her wings flutter and she stops, looking affectionately up at a
young woman with bright blue eyes.
Kassima rests her head against E'vrin's, the picture of kilted contentment.
"Mmm-hmm. The colors have been interesting all around. Lyss came from a red
egg--that's another Benden tradition; does Igen have many?"
E'vrin says "You know, I don't know? I'll have to count from Irianth's
clutch, if she lets me close enough."
"Jul's egg was black, oily..." Meli says distractedly. "Hmm, gold's chosen,
I think. What about th'bronze?"
From the hatching sands, Volcanic Emerald Bronze Hatchling sets wildly
whirling red eyes on one individual person in the line of Candidates,
rushing as headlong as he can go towards the young man with the ill-fitted
robes. Small puffs of sand are kicked up behind him, but right before
running the young man over, he trips his own legs up, tumbling forward,
then skidding muzzle-first through the sand, stopping just to the right of
Myklan's feet.
From the hatching sands, Kindre's eyes flick here and there across the
sands. Each dragon assessed, each Candidate's face commited to mind. "This
goes by so quickly," is a whispered lament by the Weyrwoman. Herath's quiet
croon seems to pacify her slightly.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn, beginning to reply to Reed, instead
clutches at his hips in sudden panic as that golden muzzle comes far too
close. "I'm not - not - " she's moved on, and he loses a breath to relief.
Anselm ohs...his voice cracks, and he swallows, his throat gone totally
dry. "Annie...?" Tears well in those cobalt blues of his. "Annie...."
From the hatching sands, Nothing happens. Leigh's hands, clenched into
fists (when?), remain balled tight, arms pressed to her sides, as she dares
to crack her eyes open just a peek. No gold. At least, not near her. She
exhales the breath she'd held to herself, all her own, and forces her body
to relax muscle by muscle, though her robe is now stained with sweat
throughout its full length.
"Don't think the bronze has..." Kassi quips, peering. "But he's looking
at--Mykkie, is it? Now, *that'd* be an interesting pair-up."
From the hatching sands, Myklan blinks owlishly...and actually backs up
several steps, hands out before him as if he could ward off the rush of the
bronze, getting a sudden panicky look.
Meli shakes her head. "Neh, see? He's off to th'side.."
Aurian leans her head against her hands, she chews on her bottom lip.
"Mykkie?" She almost starts to beam, almost.
From the hatching sands, Ceria's look is one of joy as both gold and bronze
find their chosen lifemates.
From the hatching sands, The skewed 'face' of the Scream Egg skews further
with the distention of the shell; the dragonet within seeks release, and
shall *not* be denied. A screech of frustration from within gives voice to
the mute, illusory figure for a moment, and then the eerie scene is gone,
left splintered beneath egg-damp claws. A wailing creel resonates from the
throat of the murky midnight green who stands forlorn--bereft of food,
bereft of lifemate! One harkens to her call: slender Gwyraine starts
forward a single step before pausing, uncertain. But that is enough. The
darkling dragonet sees, and streaks forward with a shriek of joy, met
halfway by the girl who announces her name to the world in tones of
poignant delight: "Riharseth!"
From the hatching sands, Thaelon watches the gold walk by, taking a few
cautious steps backwards till she stops in front of her lifemate and makes
impression.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn finally finishes, in a small voice, "Not a
girl. And I'm, I'm glad." He steals a look sideways at Thaelon, to make
sure he's not laughing.
From the hatching sands, Saskia abruptly looks up and gasps softly
"Rinath?" She blinks and the glows hilight the sheen of tears on her
cheeks. She reaches out to gently touch the gold dragonet's neck as she
stares rapt into her eyes.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon waits, watching. She watches Saskia
Impress and lets out a sigh. "COngrats."
Aurian does beam as she sees Saskia, "I knew there was a reason why she
didn't impress when we stood together. I knew it."
Drama shakes her head matter-of-factly. "Nope, not Xeana. She's still
there. No baby dragons for her."
From the hatching sands, Reed smiles over towards Saskia.
"Congratulations!" he calls, then eyes that bronze again to see if he's
finally made his choice. This resident is ready to get off the sands.
D'thon suddenly looks tired. "So few," he whispers again.
From the hatching sands, Pakse watches the bronze and gold Impress, nodding
to herself at their choice. "congrats!" she calms down a bit, peering out
for anymore eggs.
From the hatching sands, "Now there is a lovely name, hmm," she says
looking over towards Alyssa and Nimiriel. "Riharseth and
Gwyraine...congrats," is then called to the weyrling-pair before she turns
to watch the other progresses. Herath's warble of...delight? Distracts her.
"Oh...Saskia! And Rinath...congrats," she calls happily.
From the hatching sands, Maylia ducks endlessly off of, then back onto, the
sands, her riding jacket now hanging open. "Gwyraine?" She inquires, at the
girls' elbow. Soon, the girl and her green are led from the sands, to find
Riharseth's first meal.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa smiles and inclines her chin to the new
weyrwoman. "Rinath. A perfect choice, good pairing, excellent."
Dyane sighs softly as she watches Annie.
From the hatching sands, Volcanic Emerald Bronze Hatchling lays, muzzle
buried in kicked-up sand, for but a moment before rising up shakily to his
feet. He shakes himself off -- not that it does any good, since the sand
has stuck to his wet hide and there's no amount of shaking to get that off.
Reddish eyes gaze up at Myklan, then move on, the bronze walking down the
line of applicants like a drill sergeant looking to dress a recruit down.
From the hatching sands, Keron gazes at the bronze hopefully. He has
stopped shuffling and squirming, eyes absorbing all of the bronze that they
can.
X'dren laughs happily. "Good gold--fast, knew who she wanted..."
Kvasith bugles at Rinath's impression.
Anselm exhales deeply. Tears fall from his eyes. "My....my goodness." He
uses his sleeve to wipe his face, shaking slightly. "Oh...oh my."
E'vrin echoes dutifully, "Rinath." He does appear more interested in the
prospects of his island, after all. "Sounds like that weyrwoman I met here,
a little. You're right: the bronze is moving on, isn't he?"
From the hatching sands, Myklan seems to deflate a little as the bronze
passes him over, and rubs a hand over his face in an oddly adult gesture of
either relief or disappointment.
Alane nods to X'dren.
From the hatching sands, Listless rolls from hollow in the sand to another
herald another dragonet's hatching. Though he's in no hurry, a plump bronze
dragonet eventually emerges from the Sea Green Egg. An indolent survey of
the Candidates still on the Sands is accomplished with as little movement
of his head as little as possible, and, once completed, the bronze dragonet
sets off ploddingly for a stocky boy from the Beastcraft. Half-way there,
the bronze huffs a bugle, and the former apprentice slogs the rest of the
way through the Sands to clasp his new lifemate's tubby neck.
From the hatching sands, All ready to intercept the new pair of lifemates,
D'ton stands next to Saskia and Rinath. "Congratulations," he says to
Saskia, "She's beautiful. Hungry too, I'll warrant."
From the hatching sands, Saskia beams beatifically at Alyssa, Maylia "She's
hungry!" she pronounces as if every newborn hatchling everyWeyr wasn't hungry.
Aurian grins at Kvasith, "Hush love." She sighs sadly as she watches
Myklan, "Poor fellow."
From the hatching sands, Leigh places a hand on her stomach as the nearness
of Saskia's Impression to the queen jerks her awareness to the ecstasy or
agony that seemed so close to being hers. "Oh, thank Faranth," she sighs,
giving Saskia a smile that the girl will probably never even notice.
"Congratulations," she murmurs, then turns towards Annie. "I feel sick."
From the hatching sands, Keron watches the bronzes every move, watching him
come down the line, watching him come closer.
From the hatching sands, Ceria blinks as the bronze moves away from Myklan
and she follows his progression curiously.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa returns Saskia's smile and murmurs, "Maylia
and her people will take care of your lifemate and you, Saskia. Well done
indeed."
From the hatching sands, Thaelon turns quickly to his right as the bronze's
scuffling reaches his ear. He cringes a bit as the dragonet buries a
wingtip in the sand and he calls out, "Oooh careful."
From the hatching sands, Reed is just itching to move himself off of the
hot terrain, wearily eyeing that bronze again.
Kassima muses, "Saskia... eh, well, she'll do. The dragons know. Any
guesses on that bronze?" That more to the Telgarian contingent.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn scolds in Thaelon's ear, coppery face
flushed, "Careful, him? Careful -us-!"
From the hatching sands, Annie beams at Saskia, her expression true and
honest for her friend--now weyrwoman. She delivers congratulatory messages
to Sas, only just hearing Leigh and taking the cue more from visaual. "Are
you alright?" Craftsecond of the ObviousCraft reaches out a hand to the red
head, lending aid where needed.
From the hatching sands, Maylia calls, "Of course she is," On her way past
Saskia, D'ton already by the young woman's side. She's soon assisting the
beastcraft lad and his bronze, reminding the stocky boy to watch his feet.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon stands back, realising how few eggs
remain (if any?). She watches the bronze, moving away from the rest of the
rest of the eggs, etc.
From the hatching sands, Volcanic Emerald Bronze Hatchling stumbles past
one of the young men in their white robes, pauses, then turns back, dipping
a wingsail into the sand and dragging it as he awkwardly turns around,
leaving a trail in the floor of the Hatching ground to look more closely at
a long-haired man.
X'dren shakes his head, sighing, and pulls himself back from the edge.
"Stars, it's so fast..."
Aurian murmurs, "It seemed like ages when I stood."
From the hatching sands, Keron gazes upon the bronze studing the
Candidates, watching him evaluate each. He whispers to himself, "Oh please
pick me, oh please. You are so wonderful."
From the hatching sands, A dark crack suddenly splits the Blood Red Egg
asunder, jagged as a lightning bolt against its crimson depths. From the
interior climbs a green dragonet whose dusky forest hide is banded, much
like malachite, in wavering ribbons of a lighter hue. Wings spread wide as
she achieves her bearing, scanning the Sands before her with eyes that glow
garnet in eagerness. Smoky red shifts to clear, sweet blue in an instant as
she rushes to her found match among the semi-circle: a scrawny,
black-haired Half-Circle lad, who reaches to caress her head in tender
amazement before gently leading his new lifemate away.
Anselm's chest heaves, an uncertain expression across his chiselled
features. "Oh...what now? What now? Is it almost over?" voice is choked,
and, as always, squeaking.
From the hatching sands, D'ton says again after a moment, "Saskia? We've
got food for Rinath in the barracks. Why don't you help her along?"
Alane pulls at X'dren's belt. "My turn!" She grins.
From the hatching sands, Leigh nods once for Annie's benefit, standing up
straight again and releasing another breath. "I'm fine. Saskia's going to
be a fabulous weyrwoman to Rinath."
From the hatching sands, Saskia unfortunately doesn't seem to notice
Leigh's expression even though she's right next to her. She just smile and
smiles at Leigh, at Alyssa "Thank you." She seems about to say more when
her stomach rumbles quite loudly.
T'vor looks down at Keron, "Is he for real?" He shakes his head, "What. .
." he lets the thought trail off.
X'dren grins at Alane, startled out of his thoughts. "Turn for what?"
From the hatching sands, Thaelon bends to his knees, carefully reaching out
and pulling the wingtip out of the sand. As he gazes into the bronze's
eyes, he smiles broadly and looks up, "His name is Algizth."
X'dren chuckles after a moment, realizing what Alane meant.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon moves quietly over to Leigh and Ceria,
"Ohh." She sighs, "I wish we all could have IMpressed." She continues to
watch the hatchlings meet their pairs, and then see Thaelon Impress his
bronze.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn groans, seeing his fellow apprentice snared.
"Leara's not going to like that. No, she won't. She won't like that at all.
Only good thing is baby dragons make a bigger mess to clean up than
ferrets, which is what ... what any of us will have to do when ... when any
of us get back. Uh." He catches a breath, then loses it. "Thae? -Thae-."
And he steps away.
From the hatching sands, Rinath croons encouragingly, looking up at Saskia,
eyes whirling the deep amethyst of devotion.
From the hatching sands, Reed grins over towards Thaelon as the bronze
makes his picks. "Cognrats to you!" he calls, then looks back towards the
shards, then to the Weyrleaders.
Telgar Weyr> Meli says, "Plop plop Algizth..."
From the hatching sands, Ceria smiles widely as she congratulates Thaelon.
Then she turns her attention to Rillanon. "You'll have other chances," she
says softly, the smiles still adorning her face, though not as wide.
Telgar Weyr> Kesya chuckles.
Telgar Weyr> A'lex cackles.
From the hatching sands, Annie nods Leigh, weary eyes on the girl. "Yes,
she will..." Concern is still fliting at the edges of her voice for the
younger candidate.
From the hatching sands, Myklan looks over the sands, and then tugs his
longish hair back over his shoulder, the golden strands plastered to his
face now, with the heat of the sands.
"Hey!" Drama swings down to look Anselm nose-to-nose. "If them Babys don't
wan't Xeana, do we get to take her home?"
Telgar Weyr> Jerissa giggles at Meli
From the hatching sands, Saskia looks over at D'ton and blinks, "Food.
Yes." her tone is urgent. She looks down at Rinath "This way, love."
From the hatching sands, Rillanon looks up and sighs, "Yes, won't you,
though?" She questions with her eyes as well as her mouth.
From the hatching sands, Keron congradulates Thaelon for Impressing a
wonderful bronze. "Way to go."
T'vor's eyebrows knot together, "Algizth? Shards, I'm glad Fort doesn't
have to try to remember these names."
Telgar Weyr> Meli only does that cause she things Thae'd find it funny. I
hope. :)
From the hatching sands, Kindre's mouth forms a quick "oh" as the bronze
stumbles upon his lifemate in Thaelon. "Congratulations, dearheart," she
calls to him despite his obvious distraction.
From the hatching sands, Orange fluff and flaming auburn meld into a
kaleidoscope of color when the Winsome Whirling Weirdos Egg ruptures. The
powder blue dragonet prances out of his shards with an extravagant flourish
of his gauzy colored tail. With a sashay right and a strut to the left, the
blue dragonet ends up in front of a young lady whose horrified expression
transforms into one of rapture before the two saunter off the Sands together.
From the hatching sands, Saskia heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
From the hatching sands, Rinath heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
Dyane chuckles at T'vor.
From the hatching sands, Th'lon reaches over and free's the other wingtip,
"Yes, we'll get you some food. But if you drag your wings around like that
you'll hurt yourself."
From the hatching sands, Ceria shrugs uncertainly. "I might be getting too
old," she murmurs in response. "Most Weyrs won't Search past a certain age."
"Well, not every weyr can be so lucky as to have Rialeth" the fort
bluerider teases T'vor.
Aurian nods, "T'lon? Th'lon? He'll be a fine rider."
D'thon acquires a quiet smile. Resigned, perhaps, but accepting. He steps
to the edge of the ledge, gazing down, and is quickly accompanied by Wroxath.
"I certainly hope so," Anselm says softly. "I certainlyhope so. I would
take her home in a moment. The flash of my loving eyes." His expression is
all sympathy for the girl on the Sands. "Annie! Annie!!"
Mauroth croons happily, soothing greeting for the youngsters just Hatched.
More to herself, as they're too busy to hear.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon nods, slowly, "I'm sorry." Her voice is
light, she whispers the message, but she really means it. She looks to
Leigh, "Shall we go and see if they need any healers? ONce this is done?"
Alane notices and reaches up to pat Mauroth's soft green hide.
T'vor grins at the bluerider.
Kassima gives another gleeful whoop, bouncing in delight. "Thaelon on
bronze! Fantabulous! Nay a bad Hatching, I must confess, though a'course
none of 'em are. And it looks like we'll have our island, m'dear."
"And I am not just saying that because she gave me Caliath" the girl
protests, winking.
X'drenand Mauroth smile at Alane at the same time.
From the hatching sands, Algizth lifts his wingtip up, trailing loose sand
that doesn't stick to the moisture that coats him, his eyes looking at
Th'lon with a red-tinged green.
From the hatching sands, Ceria smiles briefly at Rilla. "Thank you," she
whispers back.
Drama pats her FosterPaters head, "You and me both, Guy."
Kassima appends, "If'n only I'm close on the spread... though I *might*
have enough already. We'll see."
K'tyn snores quietly, even Prometh's bugles unable to rouse him.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon nods, standing still on the sands.
Meli yawns, all her energy draining out her toes as things wind down.
"Shards, tha' was... interestin'."
E'vrin slips away from Sharath's tail, hand held out to Kassima with a
grin. "Lovely! I can make up the difference, I think."
T'vor grins at Bradamante, "A fine Hatching, names not withstanding.
Telgar's ranks will be well filled."
From the hatching sands, D'ton gets back to the Sands with a remarakbly
fast turnaround time and heads over to where Th'lon and his new lifemate
are standing. "Congratulations, Th'lon. If Algizth's hungry, we've got food
for him in the barracks. You can help him with his wings if he stumbles,"
he says somewhat breathlessly.
N'kshar frowns slightly as he continues to watch the Sands. This is the
part that's more depressing than anything else.
From the hatching sands, "Congratulations, Th'lon!" Alyssa calls to the new
bronzerider, then glances about to see if any eggs remain. Shards are
everywhere, along with the distinct footprints of Candidates, Weyrlings,
Dragonets.
From the hatching sands, Th'lon chuckles lightly and smiles as the pair
follow D'ton off the sands, "No, I wouldn't ever let you hurt yourself."
From the hatching sands, Annie looks about on the sands, hearing her name.
Lifting her eyes from the sands, her brows furrow, tring to place the source.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn rubs one foot against his ankle, scraping
off the sand-grains, and stares after Thae. Thaelon. Th'lon. "Bye, Thae,"
he calls with a low, dry voice.
From the hatching sands, Reed peers about and calls to the nearest of the
people left on the sands, "Any left? I'm up for a good bath."
From the hatching sands, Th'lon heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon gulps back tears, finaly sitting down on
the sand.
Bradamante cracks a lopsided grin, nodding as she agrees "Some absolutely
shardin' great blues Impressed here today. We will never win a green flight
if that is the comeptition."
Kylandra vaults up onto Fialth's back, as the dragon warbles a greeting.
From the hatching sands, Keron looks about the hatching cavern, trying to
find at least one more egg. He walks over to the pile of sand. "What's this?"
From the hatching sands, Algizth heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
"Thaelon, no, Th'lon," Keriann muses as she watches the young weyrling
leave the Sands with his bronze. "Fine looking dragon."
From the hatching sands, Leigh casts a worried eye towards Rillanon, but
for the first time looks hopeful. So few left; there's a chance, isn't
there, that she'll escape the clutches of this experience, or was that the
experience of this Clutch? She nods, not yet able to voice her wish to her
fellow former Apprentice.
C'lus jumps up onto Olynth's back, as the dragon warbles a greeting.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn looks around at the mess that is left upon
the hatching sands, searching for any more eggs or hatchlings.
T'vor chuckles at Bradamante, "Few blues I know fly as well as Caliath."
Anselm sees Annie looking up, and waves frantically, calling, "Annie!
XEANA!" He mouths to her, "I love you!" His smile is enough to light up a
cavern...convenient he is is one. Still, he mouths. "Come home!"
From the hatching sands, Ceria kneels down next to Rillanon, wincing as she
touches the hot sand. She hugs her gently and whispers, "Don't cry..." She
looks rather helpless as she keeps her arms around the young woman.
Olynth leaps off the ledge.
Lirra squeezes R'ehn's hand briefly, waves a quick greeting about, then
murmurs at the bluerider a comment about feeding the baby before she
hurries back to Kaath.
X'dren sighs softly. "I guess that's it."
From the hatching sands, Kindre looks about the sands just as Alyssa does.
Nodding as a small sigh escapes her lips, she raises her voice to be heard
as far as the galleries, she hopes. "Everyone is invited to our caverns for
spirits and a meal. Telgar thanks you for you kind attention to this happy
event." She then turns to M'hryn and sighs again.
From the hatching sands, Keron deciding it was nothing, he continues to
search for another egg. "Is that really /all/ of them?"
Kassima accepts the proffered hand, rising with as much grace as sleeping
feet will allow. "And what sort of island would you like?" she asks playfully.
"Or mind speak so eloquently or fails so miserably in trying to catch
green" Mante chuckles, amazingly happy about the fact.
Lirra hops up onto Kaath's back, using her straps as handholds.
Kaath leaps off the ledge.
From the hatching sands, Pakse blinks. Simply blinks.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa sighs, some of her delight fading as she
approaches the remaining Candidates; how can she not be saddened in the
eyes of their disappointment?
Alane sighs. "It was wonderful, I feel sorry for those that didn't impress
though. Shall we go home?"
From the hatching sands, Rillanon takes a deep breath and finaly gulps back
the tears for good. Finaly, she manages, "Oh well. I think....I'll manage."
Meli climbs smoothly up Juliath's extended foreleg and settles herself
between the neck ridges, as the green gives a welcome rumble from deep in
her throat.
From the hatching sands, Maylia waits for the all clear, then pivots,
following the last of the weyrlings off the sands. Her work, and that of
her assistants, has only just begun.
Aurian smirks as she sees Kassima and her bronzerider, yep its
loooooooooooove.
Aurian pulls herself up onto Kvasith, carefully. Her fingers grip at the
straps as she eases herself onto his back.
From the hatching sands, Maylia heads off towards the bowl on the way to
the weyrling barracks.
"One with you on it," is E'vrin's simple reply, unmindful of their
surroundings. (Hi, Aurian!) "Do I need to go offer my congratulations to
anyone?"
From the hatching sands, Pakse gives one last long look at the pile of sand.
From the hatching sands, Reed glances at the Weyrleaders, still hopping
about. "Are we allowed to go now?" he asks imperviously.
From the hatching sands, Myklan waits quietly, as if he can't decide which
way to go without someone to tell him....maybe the heat's gotten to his brain.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn, once Th'lon has disappeared, turns around -
luckily, distraction hadn't sacrificed him to a charging dragonet. Just a
Weyrwoman. As if she had been speaking to only him, he replies, "Yes. Uh,
but I don't think they'd be good for me. My stomach hurts. Even the bovines
never did that."
From the hatching sands, Ceria stands up and offers Rillanon a hand to help
her stand. "How can you sit down there?" she wonders with a teasing grin.
"It's so hot!"
From the hatching sands, Keron sighs a mournful sigh. "Well... maybe next
time." He sits down on the sands and gazes at the shards.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn shakes his head, echoing Kindre's sigh. "I
heard in the days before the last Pass, they used to only Search the number
of eggs they had."
Juliath leaps off the ledge.
D'thon smiles tiredly. "If you'll excuse me for a moment - " and he mounts up.
Wroxath leaps off the ledge.
From the hatching sands, D'ton casts one last look back at the Sands, then
hurries towards the barracks for the last time.
From the hatching sands, D'ton heads off towards the bowl on the way to the
weyrling barracks.
M'rgan vaults up onto Ularrith's back, using his foreleg as a step.
X'dren nudges Alane. "Well... shall we head back?"
Ularrith leaps off the ledge.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon stands up, her clothes all sandy. FInaly
she smiles, "Don't worry. I'll be alright."
From the hatching sands, Here she stands, on the sands, the shards of
dragon eggs near her bare feet. With a solemn expression, Annie lets the
moment sink into her. She's left standing... But who's that yelling at her?
What's he saying?!
From the hatching sands, Leigh releases a breath, blinking as if waking
from a dream. "It's over?" asks, not smiling even though relief flows off
her like fog from the Cold Storage rooms, spilling over these hot sands an
almost palpable succor.
Kassima beams at the bronzerider in question, the better to give Aurian
gossip-fodder. "A silver tongue you possess, O light of m'eyes, and nary a
mistake. I don't think the Weyrlings will be let out until Maylia's done
with them--might take awhile."
Dyane mutters to Anselm, "... like... to... so..."
From the hatching sands, Alyssa takes a few steps toward Rillanon and
Ceria, then glances at Leigh and Keron...Gaivn. "It's over..." she murmurs
to Adonith's Candidate.
From upon Kvasith, Aurian gags as she hears Kassima, "And I thought Maylia
and T'saren were bad."
From the hatching sands, Kindre bobs her head at the Weyrleader and moves
to speak to those Candidates remaining on the sands. "You are welcome to
stay on here at Telgar. If you prefer to return to your Hold, Hall or Weyr,
we will convey you when you are ready," she says and smiles a bit. "Thank
you for your time here, and we do hope you'll stay."
From the hatching sands, Reed can't exactly spare his feet anymore torture,
since there's nothing left to do on the sands. "I'm gonna go get my
things," he calls and hops quickly off to a cooler location.
From the hatching sands, Keron stands and dusts himself off. He asks
hopefully. "How soon until the next one?"
Drama blinks down at Anselm's yelling, unsure what he means. Drama loves
Annie too. Doesn't that count?
From the hatching sands, Reed walks over towards the galleries.
D'thon takes Wroxath's offer of a leg as assistance, climbing up onto his
back.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon takes another deep breath, "Well....I
guess we should go now." She smiles to Kindre, nodding softly. She moves away.
From the hatching sands, D'thon slides off Wroxath's back to the ground,
landing lightly.
From the hatching sands, Ceria smiles at Rilla and then moves over to give
a last bow to the Weyrwoman and Weyrleader.
Ryglenn sighs slightly as he takes a step to the side, nearing T'vor, "I
guess that's the show, whenever you, Penath and the Lady are ready..if you
don't mind?"
Anselm achs softly in frustration. "She can't--that's it." He nods to Dyane
for some reason. "Yes. PLEASE." Taking Drama off hsi shoulders, he says to
the girl, "You're going to go home with Dyane,, love. I promise I will be
along shortly."
E'vrin says "All right, then let's go." He casts a skewed glance at Aurian,
amused, himself, but rises above it. He actually kisses his lover, right
there. Ha. "...I'm starved, and I'd love to see our son."
X'dren says "Happy feasting!"
X'dren vaults up onto Mauroth's back, using her foreleg as a step.
Keriann says, "Come on, Nyth," as she gets to her feet. "Let's find where
Jaria got off to, to see what she wants to do tonight."
Alane grins at X'dren. "There's still all that food at Reaches."
From the hatching sands, Ceria turns around as she notices D'thon and Wroxath.
On Mauroth, X'dren offers Alane a hand up.
Alane climbs up onto Mauroth's back, using her straps as handholds.
Dyane extends her arms to Drama. "Come here, sweetheart. We're going to
ride the dragon home again."
T'vor walks over to Dyane, "Ready, then?"
Anselm dashes to the EDGE of teh ledge, leaningp annie= ove rit as far as
he can without falling onto the hot sands. "ANNIE!!! HERE!!"
From the hatching sands, Gaivn just looks at Kindre. Stay? Go? "I, uh,
definitely don't want to stay right here," he decides. "It's hot. Bet it's
cold outside, though."
On Mauroth, X'dren turns to tie Alane in... "Hold on..."
N'kshar looks up as he hears Kassi. He can hear the marks tinkling in his
head. Well, maybe she'll just let him pay later. She seems a bit wrapped up.
Kvasith leaps off the ledge.
From the hatching sands, M'hryn nods at Gaivn. "Wintertime," he agrees.
Keriann jumps up onto Nyth's back, as the dragon rumbles softly.
Nyth leaps off the ledge.
From the hatching sands, D'thon dismounts quietly, standing at the far end
of the Sands. He surveys the candidates, not unkindly. "Well - " he murmurs
softly to himself.
From the hatching sands, Rillanon moves towards the galleries.
Mauroth leaps off the ledge.
Kassima is more than pleased to indulge in the kiss. Let's see if we can
make Aurian ill! "Living Cavern, then?" she asks, tilting her head in that
general direction. "Or had you something else in mind?"
T'vor mounts Penath with a nimble and practiced motion, using a
thoughtfully lowered forelimb. He nestles himself into his spot between two
neckridges. From the ground, he all but disappears from the view.
From the hatching sands, Gaivn nods right back. "Wintertime. Cold. Snow.
Winter."
Dyane nods to T'vor.
From the hatching sands, Keron walks over and sits on cooler sands near the
galleries.
Dyane climbs up Penath's lowered foreleg, nestling herself behind where the
rider sits.
From the hatching sands, Ceria moves toward her weyrmate, a rather
disappointed smile still on her face.
R'ehn murmurs his farewells, and grinning heads out after his weyrmate.
R'ehn jumps up onto Bhalth's back, the dragon's sparkling eyes watching
closely.
Drama whoas as shes spead to the edge. "Don't drop me!"
Bhalth leaps off the ledge.
Ryglenn brushes past Anselm to help watch Dyane and drama board Penath.
E'vrin tucks his cloak decorously around himself (and Kassima, where
possible) so no one can spy on an Igenite's kilted knees. "Oh, whichever
you'd like. Where's Kris?"
From the hatching sands, Pakse gives the area a sweeping glace, and comes
up with nothing but shards and sand.
From atop Penath, Dyane settles down and murmurs to T'vor. "As soon as
Ryglenn and Drama board, we can go ho ... to Boll."
Ryglenn climbs up Penath's lowered foreleg, nestling himself behind where
the rider sits.
Telgar Weyr> M'rgan wants to say to everyone that this was one of the best
Candidate classes I've ever seen. You all were terrific.
Astride Penath, T'vor nods to Dyane, "As you wish."
Telgar Weyr> Rillanon smiles. Thanks.
Telgar Weyr> Syri's too crosseyed to do more than cheerfully agree.
From the hatching sands, Alyssa gives Pakse a worried glance, then turns
toward Leigh. "You all right, dearheart?"
Telgar Weyr> Meli hopes everyone will stick around too.
Telgar Weyr> Neliea snugs and should poof now before she tilts off. (I'll
second that, Mart.) :)
From the hatching sands, Kindre grins at Gaivn. "Why don't you head into
caverns...have some wine, some food, and spend the evening," she suggests.
"Decisions can be made tomorrow if you'd like."
Telgar Weyr> Rillanon congratulates the Impressees!
On Penath's ember bronze neck, Dyane smiles, "Thank you, Weyrleader. I
appreciate this greatly."
From the hatching sands, D'thon simply looks at Ceria, then steps over to
hug her quietly.
Telgar Weyr> Reed snugs Neliea. :)
Telgar Weyr> Saskia blushes "Aww thanks. It really was a pleasure to Stand
with all of you."
"With Simaeva," Kassi replies. "I figured all the shouting and cheering
might be a bit much for him. Tell you what--you want t'head on up to the
Weyr, and I'll bring up him and a supper besides? Quieter up there, for true."
Drama wasn't going to get dropped, of course not. She goes with Ryg to the
bronze dragon.
Telgar Weyr> Saskia snugs Nel! :)
Telgar Weyr> Trila cackles and rolls around on the floor. ((I think it's
set in. Head for the hills.))
Telgar Weyr> Syri snugs Nel too. :)
Anselm is still leanign over the edge, trying to get...well, Annie's
atention. obviously.
E'vrin says "It's a deal. We can count your winnings, too."
Astride Penath, Ryglenn smiles as he climbs aboard with Drama.
Telgar Weyr> Saskia says, "Yeah, stick around!"
From the hatching sands, Ceria wraps her arms around D'thon and holds him
tightly. "I've missed you," she murmurs.
Telgar Weyr> Trila just thinks you all are /great/. So there. ;) And she
snugs Neliea, of /course/.
From the hatching sands, Myklan seems to snap out of it...and nods to the
weyrwoman, even if he wasn't being spoken to exactly.
Atop Penath, T'vor grins at Dyane, "Again, my pleasure is to be of service
to you."
From the hatching sands, Myklan walks over towards the galleries.
From the hatching sands, Pakse walks over towards the galleries.
From the hatching sands, Leigh's hands, still clenched into fists, are her
only outward signs now of tension as the heightened adrenalin of the
nervewracking hatching bleeds out of her, flushing and then paling her
skin. She nods for Alyssa, answering with distant tones, "Yes. I think I'd
like to go get my things. Wingsecond." Without awaiting reponse, she turns
towards the galleries, taking the long way out.
From the hatching sands, Annie's attention is devided between the weyrwoman
and the ... well, yelling Assistant Steward of Boll. "Anselm?!" she yells
back, tears finding their way down her cheeks. The weyrling masters are
ushering the remaining candidates into the caverns.
Telgar Weyr> Reed expects you all to come visit him at the SeaCraft when
you get the chance. :)
From the hatching sands, Rillanon wipes her face, wipes the sand off
herself as much as posible and finaly asks, timidly, "Shall I be going home
in the morning? Or now?" She follows Leigh, in the end.
Kassima laughs and initiates another spectator-nauseating kiss, before
turning to scramble aboard her dragon with as much grace as her short kilt
will allow.
You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly.
You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower
neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered
foreleg.
Lysseth> E'vrin scrambles up Sharath's foreleg to his neck.
<*> From the hatching sands, Gaivn's head nods as if all by itself.
"Tomorrow sounds -good-." Giving a last glance at sands and shards, not to
mention Annie, Leigh and the others, he follows the other candidates out
into the cold.
<*> From the hatching sands, Rillanon walks over towards the galleries.
<*> From the hatching sands, Rillanon walks over towards the galleries.
<*> From the hatching sands, Rillanon has left.
<*> Anselm shouts at the top of his prepubscent lungs, "MEET MEOUTSID!" He
is shrieking, his voice unfortunately geared that way.
<*> From the hatching sands, Gaivn walks over towards the galleries.
<*> From the hatching sands, Leigh walks over towards the galleries.
<*> Lysseth spreads her wings to their full extent, bringing them down with
a rush of wind as she leaps nimbly into the air.
You leap off the ledge, and take flight over the hatching sands.