Logs:Another Egg Meeting
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| RL Date: 18 July, 2008 |
| Who: M'yr, Paige, D'kai, A'riste, X'den |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: In which the candidates head out to touch a few more eggs, Soldreth conducts more antics and Xhaiden shares a horror story from his last hatching experience. |
| Where: Hatching Cavern, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 20, Month 2, Turn 17 (Interval 10) |
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| One more egg touching, and one more opportunity to scorch his feet on the sands. Not that Dekelvai was complaining - no, no, not in the least! - but the lad's shuffle-hop-step gait as the heat seeps into his very sole (ha ha) is met with a bit of a grimace. "Doing it for the dragonets," he reminds himself, and possibly the boy next to him, who snorts and shakes his head, and falls back a bit at the sight of the yet-imposing Soldreth and Ciath. No matter how many times they see them, they don't get any less intimidating! And, at the thought, Deke places a hand on his rump and rubs a bit ruefully, and makes sure to drop a low and respectful bow to the clutchparents (not to mention a nod/salute to M'yr) before moving any farther out onto the sands. Paige's entrance into the cavern is no less fearful than her last; she's still distinctly green in the face, but at least she doesn't quite look as though a puff of breath would topple her to the sands. Still, she manages to make her way along with the other candidates into the heat, sketching out a quavering bow to sire and dam. There's hesitance, again, to head out farther and approach an egg, and she lingers near the entrance for quite some time before braving a step or two toward whichever lump is nearest. Aeriste has arrived. The sun has begun to set, soft but slightly golden rays bounce playfully against the walls of the secured cavern. The sand around the eggs has been brushed conscientiously by the bronze sire who now stands guardedly toward the right side of the mound. Both wings extend outward, but are relaxed though ready to snap to attention much like M'yr's riders do when being confronted by him. "Well now, do move into the area. Don't mind Sol. You should know by now that he's rather harmless." A pause, then, "Normally." M'yr's good-natured grin and wink follow, the Fortian Weyrleader seeming in a fairly good mood despite all the preparations going on around him. "Touch, but touch rather gently. Don't want to heighten any cracks before they're ready, now do you?" "Harmless," Dekelvai breathes with a shake of his head, though inhales deeply and ventures further out onto the sand. This time around, he's attracted to the Maleficent Maelstrom egg, picking his way carefully around the others - a light brush of his hand there, a soft touch here as he passes - to finally kneel by this one. Gently - gently - he presses his palms flat against the polished, smooth shell, and leans in towards the ovoid, as though to press his cheek against it, but instead he cocks his head just inches away, perhaps listening for any sign of movement or life within. As Aeriste has done before when faced with the daunting prospect of braving the attentions of that watchful bronze- once he steps onto the sands, he offers a very proper bow to Soldreth. "I don't think we've any intention of doing that," he assures both dragon and rider, "Sirs." And then takes a few steps toward an egg, one that's faintly-shadowed and nearly-white- but only that: a mantling dragon is enough to make him pause. Paige totters a bit past the egg she seemed to originally have been aiming for, mincing her way around an ovoid here, a candidate there as she stumbles to a halt near the On the Horizon Egg. Taking a moment to steady herself and attempting to quell the trembling of her hand, she finally extends her fingers toward the shell, expression enraptured with the play of hues on its surface. M'yr walks through the sand as though it were normal ground; he's been here enough to feel quite at home. Reaching Sol, he gives the dragon a light whack on his side, eyes glazing as he speaks to the bronze. Whatever he said causes those wings to lower against draconic side, the bulk lowering to the sand, M'yr hopping up upon one foreleg to sit there in a great position to watch. "So what do you think of these eggs? Is there one you like, specifically?" Aeriste finally kneels by the Inner Explosion egg. His hand lowers to very carefully touch the shell, barely a whisper of fingertips over a surface that's no longer soft and leathery. "Several of them." His voice is hushed, but pitched to carry: he doesn't want to even speak too loudly lest sleeping dragonets decide to awaken then and there! "This one. And that one-" And he gestures to another pale egg, white with a hint of gold. The motion of his arm is deliberately slow. "I like this'un, " Paige murmurs, leaning forward as her tentative touch turns into a gentle brushing of her hand against the sunrise-like shell. "Looks all - hopeful, y'know? Kinda like - like us." She does lean to the side slightly to peer around toward the eggs that Aeriste's mentioning, a small smile curving upward at the pale egg he's gesturing at. "Tha's purty, too, " she has to admit. "Like the first snowfall at home, jus' when the sun rises and hits it jus' right." As enthralled as he may be with the mottled play of color - of black and green and brown, flicker and flash of bluewhite and grey - Dekelvai keeps half an eye on Soldreth's movements, and finally settles back on his own haunches as the bronze does, too. He turns blue eyes up at M'yr, thoughtfully, though spares a glance back toward the egg as he follows those rain-struck lines down the soft curve of the shell. Deke absentmindedly as Aeriste speaks, spends a long moment intent on the eggs nearest him and finally indicates a few, in quick succession: all vibrant and resounding with colour, echoes of the tossing sea traced in colour and cast against, perhaps, lightning or sunset. M'yr pulls up a leg and tucks it under his opposite thigh, folding arms upon his chest in a comfortable motion. "Sol's egg was the most horrid shade of green. Of all the eggs, his was the ugliest, I have to say." He chuckles, untangling his arms just long enough to give the bronze hide a light thwap. "Kind of bumpy looking at the oddest places, and that putrid green. No one cared to touch it except me and one other Candidate. But look what came out of it." Proud sable eyes are cast upon the dragon who's carefully watching where each Candidate is. /My/ eggs. He seems to say with his watchfulness. "I think..." Aeriste frowns faintly down at the egg before him. "I think that it's premature to decide completely. I suppose that my favorite egg might be that which hatches a dragon who chooses to look to me... Whether that's bias or not, it'd be irrelevant. Favorites or not, they're all splendid. I didn't know that they'd be so many colors. Like storms, like dawn, like dusk, like clouds. Like even now the sky so loves them that it encompasses them in their sleep." There's a certain rhythm that hits his voice, then, as if he were gathering words together despite himself to form a song. An appreciative chuckle, there, for M'yr's words, and Dekelvai glances around, as though trying to spy the homeliest egg of them all and move to coddle it. But his gaze, restless, moves finally back to the Weyrleader - "Not much for ugly eggs in this batch," he comments, though after flicking away from M'yr blue eyes light for a long moment on the Impending Doom egg, and after another whispering silence with his current, he stands to move on the next. Paige nods mutely after Aeriste finishes speaking; either she's in complete and total agreement, or she's caught up in staring at all the pretty patterns of a dawning sky again. Whichever it happens to be, she's soon stepping away from the egg with a final pat, visage regaining its color and relaxing vaguely as she carefully shuffles her way toward Fair Weather Friend Egg. M'yr's wiggled around a little when Sol decides to change position, but the pair knows each other so well, the Weyrleader simply balances himself with ease. Deciding to slip off his dragon's side, those sturdy boots thump in the sand upon impact. He strolls toward the again sleeping Ciath, leaning to stroke a foreleg with the palm of his hand gently. "She's feeling the exertion of watching over all these eggs." he notes, just a bit of a worried tone to his voice. "But different dragons react in unusual ways sometimes." Dismissing that, he turns back to the group. "Are you mentally prepared for when the eggs decide to crack? You do know it may come quickly? Middle of the night? We may drag you out of your cots." He grins, finding that amusing somehow. Xhaiden has arrived. Aeriste rises, moving toward the second egg that he favors, even paler than the first, splendid and sparkling. "No," he says honestly to M'yr, looking over at the Weyrleader. He's still not quick to touch this egg, either, though he doesn't seem afraid, exactly. "I've no intention of running screaming from the Sands, but no." "Wouldn't bother me too much, sir, not the waking up late or early or what-have-you, but..." Dekelvai shrugs at M'yr's question - or would, at least, were he not so hunched up next to this next egg, the Impending Doom egg, that it was just a little sideways quirk of his shoulders. "But -" and, with a long contemplative gaze levelled at Aeriste, he finally admits, "No, I suppose not. Nothing really could prepare us for it, though, could it? Really, actually? Not unless we've stood before, or know what it's like, or..." And here he trails off, redirecting his mumblings towards the egg at his fingertips. Impending Doom? Well now, isn't that just convenient! Sol turns his neck to look toward the gallery, but that tail? Oh yes, quite the nice scooper, as demonstrated in the past. However this time, it's swishing along the sand, tip creating a sand ditch behind it while the snaking continues toward that blue eyed Candidate. Scoop-humanthing time, uh huh! Heading right toward Dekelvai's crouching form, ready to slip under and scoop the lad up about a weavers-length into the air. AlleyOop! Xhaiden's long cloak gives a flutter around his legs as he strides across the warm sands from one egg to the next, like a vytol unable to settle on any one in particular. Sure, it might be a little too warm out here for him wearing that, but it does make a certain statement and that's just what he wants to do. Adjusting the thick fur collar he scans the eggs and moves closer to where Dekelvai is by the Doom egg. "There's not much to it. Standing that is. Just like it is right now....but with more.....egg-shell-stuff and dangerous dragonetts of..." he breaks off and jumps back a step at the tail-'attack'. "Deke," Aeriste's call is low but urgent, as he'd looked over when he'd felt the other candidate's gaze on him. Now, his eyes are wide. "Behind you." "Middle o'the night?" Paige repeats, agape. "I - I - " Apparently, she's not too keen on the idea, paling as she gives the bright yellow-green shell a gentle rub, brow creasing. While she's caught up in worrying over /that/ concept, her eyes round as Soldreth's tail snakes toward Deke. "D-Deke ... ?" "Well, yeah, Standing's just... standing, or occasionally ducking, but it's the anticipation and the - not knowing - of it all..." With his head tipped up towards Xhaiden, Dekelvai's blissfully unsuspecting of Soldreth's daring, swaying, forked tail, creeping across the sands towards him. But Aeriste's low voice, and Paige's stuttering question, and Xhaiden's sudden wide eyes sends him twisting about, surprise bright in his eyes. "Soldr-" Is he entreating the Weyrleader, or perhaps the bronze himself? Soldreth must be having fun with this deception, keeping his head angled away from the eggs and Candidates. Up goes the Candidate, about a weavers-length into the air, very carefully balancing the lad back there as the tip of his tail swivels Dekelvai away from the mound of eggs, lowering him to deposit the human safely into an open patch of sand. Is he done? Doesn't look like it. Back that tail goes, heading toward Xhaiden now. Xhaiden snickers quietly as he watches Dekelvai's situation and puts his hands on his hips with an amused gleam in his eyes. Turning back to the others he gives a cocky jerk of his chin, "I wonder if that means that he's finished with looking at the eggs eh?" HIs palm reaches out and rests on the 'Doom' egg, his attention on his fellow candidates not on the dragon. "You really need to keep your eyes open on the sands you know. My best friend got himself scratched down the back to the bone. ONe moment he was holding my hand and the next. POW!" Aeriste's attention is dragged to that wayward tail. "To the bone?" he asks, presumably of Xhaiden, his face turning a rather distinct shade of green. He shudders and steps away from the egg. "Really? Is he still alive? I thought we were told that hatchlings didn't care for human flesh?" Up-up-up, and down-down-down, and Dekelvai's frozen stiff in the air, hands clutching at nothing until he's set against the sands, safe and sound and robbed of sound as his mouth works wordlessly as he sits himself up and twitches a glance back at Soldreth. For Xhaiden, who's now got his back to that traitorous tail, he points and gapes a bit, though he pushes himself to his feet with another incredulous glance for the bronze and brushes himself off. Paige backpedals away from the egg that had her attention a few moments ago, eyes wide as she watches Deke get moved to an open patch of sand. Scuttling away from the bronze's path in what she probably hopes is a nice, inconspicuous manner, she promptly goes green again at Xhaiden's dramatic description, stance wavering. There's a vacant stare for the others while she works to process all of this. Soldreth's not done with his current antics, oh nosiree. With a whip of his tail, he's managed to scoop Xhaiden up in much the same way, angling him toward the other Candidate left in the sand. Just as he's lowering the lad down to deposit him next to his first accomplishment, M'yr blurts out, "SOL!" Xhaiden rolls up his shoulders and grins casually at Aeriste, "yes he's still alive. Came to visit me not too long ago. He's a healer and all that. And the hatchling wasn't after him...just sort of came at him on his way through." He looks smug for a moment. It might have lasted a bit longer, that satisfied expression of getting to be the one with the info of such hatching-horrors. But he's scooped up and his smuggness transformers to startlement and he lets out a .... rather girlish-scream as he clings to the tail all the way until he tumbles sand-ward beside Dekelvai. An unsteady hand smooths over his cloak and he fixes the dragon with a dark look for the public embarassment, his cheeks warm pink. M'yr stomps over to Sol and gives him a good whack on his hindquarters. "If you think the time is done, just say so!" he grouches to his lifemate then whacks again, which of course Sol just ignores. "It's time we leave the sand." he says as he turns to the group of Candidates, his voice holding a touch of apology within it. That said, he walks toward the entrance to the sand, waiting for them to file out. "Warm drinks and bubbly in the Cavern, by the way." Aeriste looks relieved at the knowledge that Xhaiden's friend is still alive, but then that scream makes him stare, and then clap a hand over his own mouth: once again, he's torn between horror and humor at Soldreth's antics. He begins to head their way, needing no other encouragement, nope. Nor to get his hot feet off the sands- he practically sprints for the entrance. "And ice for our feet?" Dekelvai's recovered enough from his impromptu dragon-ride to grin - nay, smirk - over at Xhaiden, though he clamps his mouth quite firmly shut. No smart comments from him, not right now, especially not with Soldreth in hearing range, no way. With a barely-contained smile for M'yr, and an understanding nod (with perhaps a bit of relief in his compliance) the lad heads off, doing a little scorched-foot tap dance of his own as he trips his way abroad with Aeriste. Paige's hasty shuffle for the entrance turns into a stumbling sort of half-run. Looking more keen on the idea of a warm drink than something to eat, she leans against the wall for dear life once she's off of the sands, still rather green in the face. A pit-stop over at the infirmary might just be advisable. Xhaiden looks quite embarassed and spends some time fussing with his cloak to make sure nothing happened to it on the 'ride'. He clears his throat and then sneaks looks at his other candidates, trying to act as though nothing happened. "Right. Something sweet to eat would be good." Another half-glare at the dragon and then he turns to Deke, "right then." Taking the lead from the others he follows after, not about to 'run'. No way. |
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