Logs:Lhiannonth and Volath's Clutch Hatches
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| RL Date: 29 January, 2005 |
| Who: Ad'ion, Aislinn, Amarie, B'dran, Josilina, Lesra, L'ian, Linnea, Satiet, V'lano |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lhiannonth and Volath's clutch hatches. |
| Where: Hatching Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 1, Turn 2 (Interval 10) |
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| High Reaches Weyr Hatching Grounds Volath has retreated from his protective place near the eggs to a more distant spot, leaving the shells - some trembling in seeming anticipation - plenty of room for what might come next. As people - so many people - begin to clutter up the sands, he can't help a softspoken rumble of twitchiness. Spanning his wings, he crooks his neck in an arch sideways, perhaps seeking comfort from the queen. Josilina is standing by Lhiannonth's side, bouncing slightly on her toes as the gold hums, eyes fixed on the eggs. She waves as S'din walks out and looks a bit relieved when the candidates begin to appear. "Finally. - Oh don't worry, everyone will probably be fine." Probably? Lhiannonth, still humming, reaches her head out with aims to nudge Volath lightly. The humming increases in tone, loud and deep enough to make everything seem to vibrate along with it, sand, stone and body. The candidates have all assembled about the mound of eggs, and as the first begins to move, they all bow in unison to dam and sire before taking up a wary watchfulness of the eggs. V'lano unleans his head from his hand long enough to count up the candidates - eyes narrow on some, blank on others, and a smile forming on his anxious mouth for a rare few. "Everyone who? Don't count on me," he jitters. Volath, nudged, swells in the chest with a deep inhalation and returns his mellow voice to the draconic hum, head canting curiously at the bowing of the candidates. After the bow, Satiet leans her head over towards her companion, trying to stay hushed, but the nerves making her voice that much more audible to those closest to her. "So, when did you draw that picture of the Weyrleader under your cot?" Blue gaze flicks to the stands to search for the man in question, a frown tugging at her lips when he's not visible, and then turn back to Linnea with a knowing arc of her brow. The tease is spoken lightly, "I really didn't know you had it in you." Amarie holds onto one of Elshian's hands as her other hand reaches out to snag Satiet's as the bow is made, "Shards I keep forgetting how hot the sands can be." she murmurs to the other two as she lets her gaze travel across the eggs that start to rock. With out even an indication of moment, Winter Wonderland Egg suddenly breaks into thousands of pieces revealing a petite green. Cocking her head as she shakes off a bit of eggshell that is stuck to her wing, she gazes over all she sees. Making up her mind quickly, she head straight for the nearest groups of candidates. Like a lady, this green neither head-butts nor prods her choice; she just stops at the feet of a young lad from Nabol and croons up at him. The lad's eyes light up as he escorts his lady to her dinner. Aislinn keeps a firm hold of Adanion's hand as the pair finds their places in the loose circle around the eggs. She begins the ritual hot-feet dance, absently shifting her weight a bit then leaning over to murmur, "it's a lot louder in here than I thought it would be. Listen to them!" Then theres a green and an impression almost all at once. "And a lot faster! Fardles!" Linnea moves toward the sands as directed, her eyes wide and her hair catching static from the heat of the sands. She stops in her tracks as the candidates approach, tracked-away sand sinking into her shoes, to join the bow. Head lowered, she hisses to Satiet, "I didn't draw that picture. I've never even seen the Weyrleader naked," before staring up at the packed galleries, openmouthed, the condition only exaggerated by the arrival of the first dragonet. Fogged-In Inlet Egg begins to move, rolling away from the other eggs. Once it is alone, the egg shivers as if the hatchling inside it trying to part the fog that keeps it from being seen. Bidran jumps as the egg shatters, then seeing the dragonet choose it's lifemate, settles back into his place. Elshian moves to a good spot to watch as much of the sands as possible, though his attention is at the moment more on the galleries trying to spot familiar faces than on the eggs starting to wobble. He grins at Amarie. Yeah, I'm so glad I'm wearing sandals. Can you believe some of the candidates said they were coming barefoot?" He glances at the feet of nearby candidates to see if they actually followed through. He turns to Aislinn on his other side. "How are you doing?" He notices the cracking of the egg, but doesn't comment on the impression besides to call a congratulations to the new rider. Lesra keeps hold of Bidran's hand as he jumps. "Don't keep doing that, or you'll have sore feet by the end of the night. Just stay as calm as you can, and keep your eyes open." Good advice. The question is, can Lesra practice what she preaches? Volath pauses in humming to crow a soft, glowing note of pleasure at the sudden emergence of his first, swift-selecting offspring. He does, this time, remember to hum more after his vocalization. "Was that a - is it a - oh!" V'lano startles and stares after the departing new green. "She's real!" Fogged-In Inlet Egg continues to shiver as the hatchling tries to leave his foggy prison. It rocks back in forth violently as if it was being toss about on the waves of a stormy ocean. Bidran watches the shivering egg, he is slowly shifting from foot to foot. He tries to stay calm, but it is a real effort. Aislinn offers Elshian a hint of a wan smile. "I'm doing OK, sorta nervous really. But excited too." Her eyes dart from her fellow candidates to the shivering eggs out on the sands. "I hope the one for you is out here, Elshian." Adanion continues holding Aislinn's hand as the hatching begins. He looks like perhaps he isn't in any danger from the VSC and is rather, simply watching something as a spectator who is no potential peril. Adanion is beaming a toothy smile, looking around. Satiet's other hand is caught up by Amarie, and she twitches, startled. "Oh. It's you. Not that dragonets can grasp hands like that." Her unnerved air is laughed away softly, though a few baby steps takes her behind the shoulders of both female candidates at her sides. "Well, no one knows that. You could've and just not mentioned it on pain of death or some such. I still can't believe you'd draw something that crude." The packed galleries is visibly ignored, her line of sight trained over the eggs, and on the bottom rim of the first benches. Linnea has recovered the presence of mind to be aware that the first egg hatched already, the new pairing made. "Congratulations!" Quieter, she adds, "Someone's going to lose marks somewhere. Green isn't the usual starting bet color." Elshian's comment causes her head to tip toward Ulmet, who is playing tough and going barefoot, and looks miserably uncomfortable. "Like him? Bet he'll have sore feet, too." To Satiet, she mutters, "I didn't. I told you." There's a final crack and a blue is revealed as the contents of Fogged-In Inlet Egg. Serene Tropic Calm Blue Blues and greens mingling into patterns and swirls of aqua and turquoise, dampened with a sheen as they reflect from this dragonets hide. As each limber haunch moves, creating lithe ripples in their wake that mesmerizes the viewer only to clash with the sereneness of movements from his shortened tail that creates a capping of white at its base. Folded wings carry the serenity higher, sun kissed speckles in deeper shades of navy that dance carefree through the dips and swells of wingsails. His long neck gleaming with the goo of his recent hatching, tiny shards of shell still clinging to him like barnacles to a solid rocky ledge. Pearl gloss gem facets dot his eyes that miss no detail around him, inquisitive and sharp to meet the wonders he sees. In every aspect he is the calm before the storm. Lesra mutters, "Green. The first one was green. That's usually considered good luck, isn't it?" Then a blue hatches, distracting her from her thoughts. "Ohh, that's a lovely blue dragon!" Spinning faster and faster, sending sand flying into the surrounding air, the Glistening Seafoam Egg digs a hole before the shell cracks and shards follow, the jade green dragonet who had been contained within, tumbling gracelessly to the ground. She recovers her footing fairly quickly, head proudly lifted into the air as she spreads her wings, posing when she becomes aware of the eyes on her. She carefully takes a step forwards, and then sideways, so that she avoids another tumble over the piles of sand that was left before her. Making her way towards a gaggle of girls, she warbles as she looks between dark faces and pale ones, before a raven haired girl from Boll meets her gaze. A choked up voice is only a mere whisper as deeply tanned arms wrap around the tiny green's body, "Vidiath. Vidiath." Amarie looks up at the galleries herself for a moment, the roar of the noise of all the folks up there, "Oh... isn't he a pretty blue." she murmurs as she spies the blue as she looks back down at the eggs at the sound of more eggs splitting apart. Off to Oz Egg wobbles in its sandy pocket, its height making it unstable as it moves to and fro against the grains. It gains momentum in its rocking, then topples over onto its longer side, leaving the vivid streak of yellow face up. Bidran is trying to watch the dragonet and the eggs at the same time. He watches the other candidates impressing and looks longingly at the dragents that they have Impressed. Satiet smirks, removing her Linnea-held hand long enough to swipe it against her robe. "Sure," she finally comments disbelief clear in her intonation. "Green?" she glances over to try and spy out the first impression and then turns to focus on the other eggs. "No one really bets on green first. Auspicious," she mumbles. Her pale gaze is forced up into the galleries and ledges again, seeking out another, as a sly smile starts on her lips, "I bet wherever she is, that gambler of a Telgari greenrider's happy enough." Elshian grins at Aislinn. "Thanks, I appreciate that. Same to you." He waves to the galleries even though he can't get a good view of them. Chances are he knows someone there. He looks back on the sands to notice the egg revealing a new hatchling, and he takes as close a look as he can without moving forward any, just his neck cranes forward. "That's a nice blue. Though I'm sure they're all great." He nods at Amarie, agreeing. "Do you have any guesses about what color will come from which egg?" Aislinn waves in place of congratulating the Boll girl on her green, seeing as how she's a good way across the sands. "No browns or bronzes yet. I don't think it's true what they say about bronze first being a good omen though, all these so far have been real pretty." She eyes the newly hatched blue contemplatively. "Sort of reminds me of Ista- my sister lives there." Speaking of which, she turns to glance up at the galleries, searching for that familiar face. Serene Tropic Calm Blue emerges from his egg completely off guard as if is sudden freedom was unexpected. Blinking a few times as he tries to get his bearing, he lets out an impatient snort. Carefully, he takes his first steps away from the place that he has lived in for so long. The aura of perfection that this blue radiates is shattered when the new hatchling awkwardness takes over his body and the blue takes a nose dive into the sands. Amarie shakes her head a bit and she chews on her lower lip, "Not going to even try, too many chances to be wrong." she says before wincing as the blue takes a nosedive into the sands, "Ouch, that's got to hurt, even for a dragon." "A blue! And another green!" Josilina is keeping excited commentary - luckily under her breath. "Wonder what it means that the more colored ones hatched greens and the grayer one was a blue." She muses and Lhiannonth briefly lapses in her humming to snort - and then give an encouraging croon as the blue goes down. Linnea is worried enough by the arrival of sharp-clawed scrabbling living things that she clenches Satiet's hand rather tightly as it returns to hers. "They come and go so quickly. It's rather terrifying." Her eyes begin to calm, that delirious blend of awestruck and fear-glaze, and she mostly watches the progression of talons followed by dragonets. "I'll bet she is. If she bet that first. Oh! They're so much like children. Wonder if they know they're being watched so closely?" Elshian winces as the blue falls. "I hope he didn't hurt himself too badly. Not the best way to start his life out with, huh? I don't mean the falling, just the hurting himself part. Falling is something I heard I did *alot* when I was young after all." He nods at Amarie. "I know what you mean, I haven't thought much about it either. Bidran watches the newly hatched blue as it falls over, wondering if he should go and help it up. He then shakes his head and stays where he is at. Volath attempts a croon of encouragement for the blue, though the shell-cracking of another of the same hue distracts him - and reminds him he's meant to be humming. His rider, meanwhile, steps uncertainly away from the bronze's foreleg, murmuring, "One, two, no oranges yet - " with face somewhat pale. A glance is flicked toward Josilina with a dry, weak smile. "That clouds mean sky?" There's logic in that, really. Off to Oz Egg rests for a time after its falling-over, then shuffles on the sand, 'walking' as the anxious-to-escape life within tumbles against the shell's interior. The yellow streak spreads wider, a small crack forming and stretching out the albumen lining across the gap. Twist and Shout Egg wobbles in its sandy cradle, working up a rhythmic forth-and-back that slowly widens the depression it lies in. Urged on by an encouraging murmur from the clutchsire, the egg rolls clear up onto the lip of its little bowl - but lacks enough momentum to be free. After a perilous moment it reverses course, tumbling back into the indentation. The shell distorts with the pressure of the landing for a split-second before exploding open in a gooey mass of shards, revealing a wet and creeling blue. Lucky hatchling he is, his eyes latch on to his intended before he's even mastered walking, so he's only just stumbling awkwardly away from the shards when Tiersi races forward to meet him, crying out, "Of course I'll help you, Dalyweth!" Satiet's hold on Linnea's hand, once it returns from the sweat wiping, tightens, knuckles white at the various other impressions and egg hatchings happening before them. "At least it's quick." She won't vocalize her own fears, of course, and every so often she looks at V'lano and his lifemate, an off-color smirk threatening on her lips. But back to more important matters - like staying alive. "I'm sure they know, cocky little things." She pauses to add dryly in regards to the tropically calm blue, "Clumsy too." Adanion looks like he's almost willing to head over to help the fallen blue, but keeps his place, those blue eyes watching every moving thing on the sands, like a child with a thousand sweets before him who can't decide where to look. Aislinn winces at the sprawling blue, giving Adanion's hand an involuntary squeeze. "Gosh, I hope he's okay." There's not much time to think on it though, as things keep happening at such a fast pace. "Ooh, another blue, wow, still no big dragons." At the encouragement of his clutch father, Serene Tropic Calm Blue picks himself up off the ground as gracefully as he can, looking around to see if anyone saw him. When his realizes that /he/ is the center of attention, he holds his head up high. Clearly, I meant to do that! Moving now closer to the candidates, the blue stops just short of a small group of them. Giving a small grumpy growl, he carefully looks over a lad from Fort Hold. The lad looks back at the blue with wide eyes and takes a hopeful step forward. No, he isn't the one. He is not perfect enough for me. The blue hatchling growls at the lad's hand and backs away Josilina is close enough to catch the murmur and grins. "Well, who knows - that one hasn't hatched yet." She points out to V'lano, nodding to the Immaculate Ice Egg. "Sky... I guess that - another blue! From a gray-y one." Linnea tips her head in sympathy, "I understand, poor thing. Must be a great deal of pressure to pop right out of the shell and have to find the right person." She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them in time to see Tiersi impress. "Look, over there," she urges, directing their clasped hands in an awkward pointing. "And that one! Growling like that." A fear-ridden giggle escapes, unbidden. Amarie giggles a bit at the blue, eyes twinkling a bit as she keeps a close eye on him while trying to watch out for any new hatchlings wandering in her direction, "I think he's quite neat, all babies are clumbsy at birth." Bidran blinks, still watching the Tropic Blue dragon. V'lano grins. "Well, better than gray dragons," he returns, and after that focuses on breathing, chest heaving a bit with the effort. Volath's barrel-belly, too, swells and diminishes as he hums, mastering slowly the art of singing dragonets to wakefulness and shell-breaking - with almost immediate success. Off to Oz shudders, every motion making the crack in that yellow streak gape wider, seeping egg-goo from within. As the space grows wider, a few voices in the stands murmur and a young boy points, but there's no clear visibility of the dragonet within. With an enormous crack and a rush of movement, a Tumultuous Tornado Green prowls among the scattered fragments of Off to Oz Egg. Tumultuous Tornado Green A whirl of style and unmistakable presence, this green is marked from the very beginning. Her cuspate form flaunts too many sharp vertices, all angles from maw to hindquarters; even her tail whips around as if to strike. A decidedly different shade of green separates her from her clutchsisters, deep and muddy, brushed with glistening undertones that sweep in busy clouds across her form. The shimmering streaks are frequent but dark, creating a swirl of color that is all her own: ferny and reptilian, all jeweled city lit from beneath. Eggshells and sand are swept along with her movement just as navy-black wingsails, long and capelike, seem to soak up the surrounding light. Sharp even to each neckridge and the defiant, defined point of her head, her gaze may be the most dramatic of all: full of venom, or brimming with love - well, that depends on which side of the story one chooses to read. Lesra looks at the blue dragon inspecting the Candidates. "Uh-oh. Is he coming this way, Bidran?" Bidran says "I don't know, he seems to be wandering around, he might end up over here if he doesn't find someone else." He doesn't add his wish that it doesn't find anyone else." Elshian nods. "Though don't tell him that, he seems very proud. In a good way." He watches the newest green hatch. "Lots of blues and greens, are there usually so many?" He doesn't wait for an answer and does it himself. "Probably is pretty normal." Serene Tropic Calm Blue turns from the clearly unworthy boy and moves on to the next group of candidates. His eyes still whirling crimson and scarlet, he moves on to another group of candidates. Is the one that he is looking for here? Just as he is about to pass a small group of two, a male and a female, he stops. Turning around, the blue gives the two those that are in front of him one last good look and bulges in triumph as he moves to greet the one that is just for him. Satiet's eyes shift, unbidden to Tiersi, in perfect timing with Linnea's words. "I wonder what Rasiter will think," is her first comment, followed swiftly by a jerk of her arm. "Growling dragons can stay away from me," she remarks primly. "Congratulations," is called out towards the small girl, though her words may fall on deaf ears. To Amarie, "Dragon babies have that up on humans at least. They can walk, or try to. And no need to carry them everywhere. If there's any bright side to this," she begins, eyeing the dragonet still unimpressed and the eggs left, "It'll be no more nursery duty." Serene Tropic Calm Blue looks into the charming blue eyes of a lad with unbrushed dark hair. V'lano, perhaps, overhears a word or two and mutters, retreating to lean weakly against his dragon once more, "A nursery with only bigger babies." But there's a brilliant, pleased smile on his face, despite the weariness in his deep eyes. Rolling Thunder Egg isn't going to be outdone by its ovoid brethern, so it bounces around as if the heat from the sands was just too unbearable to stand at all. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Oh, and bounce again. The egg pauses, resting perhaps, then bounces again. Such energy. Bidran grins, "He's coming this way! I wonder if it's looking for you or me... I guees we'll find out!" Tumultuous Tornado Green pauses only steps away from her shell to raise up her head and shake, spattering the sands with droplets of egg and causing herself a little wooziness, as right afterward her head sways fro and to. Dizzied, her forelegs bow, elbows dredging into the sand. After an irritable creel of frustration, she struggles again to her feet, lifting grain-speckled wings of midnight jet to tuck carefully against her sides. Movement facilitated, she sallies forth, considering a cluster of candidates with whirling, hungry eyes. Ad'ion's world fades away as he all but falls into those faceted eyes of the blue. He doesn't seem to realise that he's sunk to his knees, either. "Mazinth.... Mazinth!" That's all Adanion can say, it seems, looking about as dumbstruck as possible without his jaw dragging through the sands. It's replaced, though, by elation and he says, "You found me! You /are/ perfect!" S'din grins and steps forward, "Welcome to High Reaches Weyr, Ad'ion and Mazinth!" He guides the bedazzled pair toward the passageway off the sands. Linnea's gaze is drawn from the wandering blue to the shivering and goo-leaking egg, then to the others, both eggs and humans, trembling on the sand. "This was maybe a bad idea. It was maybe a good idea to stay home and do laundry. Doing laundry doesn't involve claws. Or cleaning up after dragonets, which has to be worse than stable mucking." She edges backward a step, almost bumping into Satiet. "Adan-he found..." A smile emerging despite, she quiets. Elshian overhears Satiet's comment from the other side of Amarie and grins at the girl. "That's actually a chore I might miss now that candidacy is about to be over, either way." He almost misses the newest impression having been pointed the wrong way, but he turns at the sound of other people's congratulations and the hearing the name of the dragon. "Congratulations!" Amarie eews a bit as the green spatters goo everywhere and she gasps as she looks to see who the Tropic blue chose, eyes widening as she looks aover at Adanion... Adion now, and she shouts out a congrats, but it probably falls on deaf ears right now before she looks back at the green and the other eggs, "Adanion ipressed!" she says to Elshian on an aside. Aislinn gasps as that blue nose pushes past her, then drops Ad'ion's hand as he drops to his knees. "Oh, wow! Congratulations, he's just perfect," she crows, knowing that the lad's thoughts are far away and he probably won't be able to hear her anyhow. "Mazinth," she murmurs, then shifts sideways, closer to Elshian. "I thought he was going to fall over again and squish us or something and then... Ad'ion." She grins almost goofily. Lesra looks mildly disappointed, but controls it. "Congratualations, Adianion! He's a very nice blue dragon." In a lower voice she murmurs, "Sorry, Bidran. Maybe the next one will be for you?" Mazinth rumbles hungrily at his lifemate. A spray of sand in the vicinity of the Enchanted Autumn Change Egg gives the first hint that there is life within, followed by a series of cracks forming across the shell. Time seems to slow to a crawl as ever so slowly one piece and then another break off, until four large shards are left behind to reveal a tiny green dragonet. But once freed from her shell, she doesn't isn't in any hurry to leave it behind, tilting her head to look down at her former casing, the motion of which lands her snout first into the hot sands. Righting herself with more grace than would be expected, she hesitates no longer, heading directly to a large round faced lad and warbling with delight as Ulmet bends down to slowly stroke her head, his face radiant with joy, "Lannith, of course you can get something to eat now." Bidran smiles for Ad'ion, "Maybe... Hopefully..." Rolling Thunder Egg doesn't rest for long. However, since bouncing didn't accomplish much beyond knocking bits of sand a short way away, it opts for a rocking and rolling motion, much like a small rowboat on a gentle sea. Being approached by a storm. It rocks. It rolls. Hey, it even throws in a short spin just to make things interesting. Elshian grins at Aislinn. "Yeah, isn't it great? That's a good one there, they'll make a good pair." He offers his hand to Aislinn. "Why don't you join us? Maybe Amarie's luck will travel all the way to you too, and we can help her reputation as lucky-handed grow." Josilina rises on tiptoes to get a better look at both newly Impressed pairs, "Oh! Adanion and that blue! That was a pretty blue - and Ulmet! He was there when I was making them draw." Rolling Thunder Egg gives a last shudder before shattering and revealing a brown. Summer Lightning Brown Hide winged with wind and a din of red-umber hues of the day's last hours flames vitreous bright over wide set shoulders and an egg-moist back that is divided by tempest tossed sea of sardonyx ridges. The ever eddying flow of light's final touch gleams in fire opal touches along this bronze's flanks until it fades into a western sky rose that flows over a belly in a backdrop that is encrusted with gems of star-like radiance giving the appearance of iron scales and hard jewels save for one noticeable place over the hollow of the great beast's left breast. Scarlet electricity forms the formidable coils of his dire looking tail while his wings are forged of sun-steeped embers. Perhaps too short of muzzle to be classically handsome, there is, nevertheless, definite pride in the bearing of his magnificent, brown head. Self-assured and strong of step, whenever he moves the sudden arc of summer heat lightening seems to glow around him. Satiet watches the blue's progress as it nears their area of line, and blinks owlishly. "Mazinth." She takes both hands out of those closest to her, allowing the briefest of smiles of apology for them, and then brushes hair out of her face. The tie that holds the runnertail together has come undone from its bow, instead becoming two loose strands of white. "What did he say his name was? Ad'ion? Hmm?" Elshian isn't ignored, per se, but it takes her a while to fashion a tart response, "Then become a manly nanny. There's male ones I'm sure." Ad'ion laughs and says, "Yes, yes! Alright! Let's go stuff you full..." He /does/ remember to wave to the others that remain, wishing them luck with a smile. Ad'ion has left. Tumultuous Tornado Green considers the cluster she's closest to, arching her neck and turning her head one way and another to achieve a superior, multi-faceted view. A narrow tongue flickers from her narrow mouth and her tail flicks upward, then down, stirring up a stinging but brief cloud of sand. Of the varied candidates, girls and boys mixed, she finds nothing that suits her, and head high she turns to walk past them all, seeking better pickings. Aislinn slips her hand easily into Elshian's with a smirk. "You just want to have two lucky hands to hold on to. I'm the one who was grabbing on to Ad'ion when that blue found him after all, now wasn't I?" She takes the time to wink, then nods out at the sands as the rolling thunder egg breaks. "Ah, there's a brown. Gosh, these are all really pretty." V'lano rounds Volath's chest while the bronze whuffles interestedly at a not-yet-broken egg barely within whuffling reach. Nearer the weyrwoman, the bronzerider grins - slowly seeming more and more at ease - and replies, "I wouldn't have pegged him for that one, though." Lesra says, "Oh my goodness! Look at that brown dragon! Isn't he gorgeous? He's even more attractive than some of the bronzes!" Bidran smiles as he watches the brown, "I've always liked browns, I wonder who he'll pick..." Linnea watches the reptilian green struggle with and overcome dizziness, her frown pursing her lips. "That one looks like a tunnelsnake," she comments, aiming to chase away nerves. This changes to a grin of amazement as Ulmet finds his lifemate too, and stupidly, she tells Satiet, "He found one, and didn't get clawed! I thought surely he'd get clawed." The other candidates are given a silly grin, Li asking of Amarie. "Is that what the name, Lucky Hands, has to do with? I thought it meant you and Big Mano...you know." Sandy Storms Egg gives a twitch that might almost be missed, as it's more a delicate trembling within the nest of sand around it than a true, hearty rock. Still, the shower of grains from its hardened surface might catch the attention--particularly as its occupant really puts some effort into it and manages one unsteady wobble. Amarie hrms some as she looks at the latest to hatch and she blinks some as she watches the green's tail flick sand everywhere, "Wow, she's a little fiesty, isn't she?" she murmurs to Satiet and Elshian, not sure if she really wants her getting close so she takes a step back when and if the green gets near her and her handholding buddies. Elshian nods at Satiet. "I might do that, yeah." He grins at Aislinn. "You have a point there. Now I've got all the luck I'll need either way I guess." He missed the brown's hatching and looks back when Aislinn mentions it. "That's a nice one too...though I don't think there could be one that isn't. He smiles at Amarie as she moves back. "Don't worry. With so many of us on the look out, there's no way we'll let you get hurt." Summer Lightning Brown is large and in charge! He surveys his immediate surroundings, taking immediate interest in the fragile shards at his feet, kicking away one piece of egg shell as one flicks away a biting bug. What are those white-clad things? He takes a step towards them to investigate further, stumbling as his muscle control isn't quite a match for his sheer bulk. Seemingly in slow motion, the brown dragonette's head flops onto the sands. Oh, that's got to hurt! Satiet's smirk isn't veiled at the other candidate's assessment of the green. "It'd be fitting if Joilin Impressed to that," she murmurs. "Tunnelsnake, meet tunnelsnake." Though it's ironic coming from her. "Big Mano, indeed." Blue gaze shifts again to the clutch sire's rider and she laughs, darkly humored, "Lucky Hands. You're full of surprises today, Li." But nervousness does tend to bring out other facets in people's personalities. The brown's stumble is stared at, reaffirming her stance on baby dragons, "Clumsy. I'd give all my marks to somehow see Faranth fall on her bum a few times." Summery Sky Egg gives one last good shake as the egg splits down the middle. A confused bronze rolls out from between the two pieces of eggs. Shaking, the bronze boldly roars as he gathers his wits about him. Once he is on his feet however, he rushes head long into the good fight nearing running over dark-haired Jarin from Benden and blonde-haired Halona from Southern Boll. Halona falls hard on the ground yelping in pain causing the bronze to turn around to look back at the two. When Jarin reaches down to help up Halona, the bronze roars in triumph. Jarin smiles softly to Halona before turning to greet his lifemate. "Yes, Kyranth, I will make sure she is alright." Bidran watches the Brown as he falls over, "I hope he isn't hurt." Lesra says, "I hope not. It seems as if several of them are falling down tonight. I guess after being cooped up in those eggs for so long their legs don't work." Amarie gasps as another hatchling falls down and goes boom, her eyes tracking the green as she loses track of her as the brown grabs her attention for a moment, "Yeah, that's what it means, I seem to bring good luk to those that hold my hands." she says before she shrugs a bit, concerned as to where the green has gotten to. Tumultuous Tornado Green stumbles a bit as she stalks past more candidates, pausing to sniff expressively, flicking her wingsails and scattering grains of sand matted by drying bits of egg-goo onto the robes of a bright-eyed girl and her lookalike brother trying to step closer, the girl holding beggingly out with one hand and clinging to her sibling with the other. The angular, muddy green sniffs again, disinterestedly this time, and turns her head sharply away from the outstretched palm, moving onward. Sandy Storms Egg manages to get the hang of this 'hatching' business in fairly short order, and what began as a series of small quakes soon becomes an emphatic, steady rocking. The dragon inside wants. Out. Now! And judging by the web of cracks appearing over one point of the surface, it's not far from getting its wish. Summer Lightning Brown isn't about to whimper or show any sign his ungraceful introduction to the world was anything but a grand entrance. Hissing at the white clad humans who dare to approach with thoughts of helping the brown. With a carefree shrug of his muscular foreshoulders, the Summer Lightning Brown rises, head undulating back and forth as it watches the others. More cautiously, he steps forward. Tentative step followed by tentative step. It stop and gives the closest of the white clad humans a menacing look. Might actually terrify if his face weren't covered it sand. Linnea observes the selective green making the rounds, though she turns her head to stare at Satiet's comment about Joilin. "She's not a tunnelsnake," the blue-eyed girl protests, but which 'she' is being discussed isn't specified, for Linnea can't help but wince at the brown's faceplant. "Ouch! Poor darling! And you'd best not say that too loud, about Faranth, or maybe the clutchparents will hear you. And what did /you/ think about the nickname?" Elshian watches the brown for a moment. "I don't envy these hatchlings having to be born with so many people around and have to perform right away. When I was born all I was required to do was cry and eat and sleep a lot." He looks from Aislinn to Amarie. "You too doing okay?" Hellish Hail Egg twitches, a long hairline crack forming silently down its side. Left behind without Tiersi to shore him up, Dundren watches the eggs with dull, wide-eyed panic. He's the first to notice the crack in the shell and points - "Look!" As soon as all eyes have turned that way, as if knowing there's now an audience, the egg splits in two, spilling forth a glistening blue. The hatchling stumbles around on the sands, complaining in low creels about the heat beneath his tender claws. Despite his discomfort he makes a tidy half-circle around Dundren, who reaches out hopefully but is to be disappointed - the dragonet latches onto young Rinley, who shrieks with fear at the touch of talons on her foot, then melts into beatific grin as realization slowly dawns. "Oh, Weeth! I'm sorry I was so hard to find!" Aislinn takes a deep, steadying breath, then nods. "Yeah, I'm alright. It sure is a lot to watch all at once though. I don't think these guys really do much other than eat and sleep a lot either, once they find the right person to bond with." Amarie nods her head a bit at Elshian, not responding to Linnea's question, really too concerned with the moving green and the now hissing brown to think of an answer, "Oh sure, just fine." she says in a almost strained sounding voice as she shifts from foot to foot, "I'll be even better when this is all over." Bidran watches as the the eggs continue to hatch, trying to keep track of all of the unImpressed dragonets at once. Satiet also watches the green, flicking a look at the just hatched and quickly impressed bronze. "There's one finally. Though it's in the middle. I wonder if there's any superstitions in regards to middle of the hatching bronzes." Her teeth come down to worry along her lip, and then laughter bubbles out, lightening the fear in her eyes. "Weeth?" Eyebrows arc in dark humor. "Now -that-'s totally fitting. Weeth. Wee wee. Rinley." Smirk. "Dragons must know something we don't. Even newly hatched ones." Sandy Storms Egg erupts into a final series of crazy spins that sends bits of shell and a spray of sand flying everywhere, dark marks crackling across its sandy surface like some sort of twisted desert storm, before the shell gives up the ghost and sets its inmate free. Sandy Storms Egg finally shakes apart revealing a gold dragon. Dewdrops in the Desert Gold Brilliance glistens in the expansive sails of this pale and diminutive queen, stretched like sunlight caught in the web of her narrow wingspars. Exceptionally large eyes are lined with sweeps of rich ochre and set deep beneath finely-built eyeridges, gracing a broad head of wheaten gold crowned by curved headknobs scattered with dewy droplets. Ridges of cream filigree arise like flower petals from a sinuous neck which expresses, far more than does her enigmatic face, her moods and opinions with its arches and twists. A slender but powerful tail is similarly articulate, its tarnished-copper tip - the only dark part of her aside from those shadowed eyes - lashing whiplike with curiosity or upset. Despite the gangly awkwardness her long, sinewy limbs currently present, she moves with an icy determination that promises, in maturity, a certain statuesque grace. Volath cheers on more of his hatchling offspring with rumbles, the humming hard for the scatterminded bronze to hold onto with so much going on. His tongue lolls at the side of an open maw for a few moments while another egg cracks open, and silent, he flicks his wings upward, letting them shine for all to see. Tumultuous Tornado Green stalks a circle around a pale-haired girl, then cocks her head to consider yet more candidates - from behind the candidate's back, as if the girl's only so much debris in her personal obstacle course. From that vantage she discovers something seemingly of interest and trumpets a cracking, soft-spoken note of triumph before setting out at a trot for the one she's got in mind. Angular, narrow limbs are ill-prepared for such a dash, however, and she elbows herself in the underbelly, creels indignity and pain, and stumbles forward onto her forelegs and chin right in front of a brown-curled girl. From there she peers upward, seeking the sympathy of blue eyes for her sudden plight. Like the stereotypical Candidate, Lesra is momentarily entranced by the gold dragon. She even lets her jaw drop in amazement and her eyes goggle briefly. But then pride kicks in, and she shakes her head sharply. All right, she can handle this. "Looks like there's a metallic on the Sands, Bidran. Better keep an eye on her 'cause she could do more damage than a smaller dragon if she charges." Her voice is calm, as if she sees this every day. Elshian notices the entrance of the gold, but doesn't give the hatching itself more notice than he did the others. Instead he seems more interesting in checking out which candidates are left, presumably trying to figure out which one the gold will likely approach. "This should be interesting." Now Halona is left all alone on the sands as she watches a dark green muzzle breaks through the center of Fall Foliage Egg. After mighty shake, the sensual green steps out of her egg into freedom. She gives a soft croon to her parents before she is up on her feet. She makes a sweeping pass over a few group candidates before stopping at the feet of Halona. Crying this time out with joy, Halona drops to her knees to caress the green's faces. "Oh, Keairath. I will love you forever." Linnea looks over toward Aislinn, nodding, "I bet they do more than just eat and sleep, if Rinley's any indication. Rinley? Rinley!" Her stunned realization that the incontinent one's Impressed brings a raised hand of cheering, which turns into an outstretched one of concern for the narrow-limbed choosy green. Satiet's comforting presence is left behind as Linnea embraces her lifemate, murmuring, "Elindath. I'm yours, too. And you don't look like a tunnelsnake. Much. You're beautiful." S'din returns from gathering up yet another pair on the other side of the sands. In case anyone missed the names, he calls out, "Congratulations, Linnea and Elindath!" Summer Lightning Brown takes another step closer to the chattering white clad humans, then stops. Holding up his left leg, he tries to kick off a shard of his former chamber egg off the bottom of his foot. Kick. Kick. Kick. That's not working, so he turns his head away from the humans and peers at the offending shard. He stamps down hard on the sand, sending loose sand and egg fragments everywhere, including his face. Yes, he meant to do that! Satiet looks briefly stunned, paleness sweeping her still vaguely sun-dark features. The hand that clasps onto Linnea is snatched back, and the side of her nearest the brunette flinches away. There's no peanut gallery commentary on clumsy hatchlings, though the disdainful lift of her chin would indicate she, at least, -wants- to say as much. "Con.. gratulations?" The freed hand flexes into a fist and uncurls, back and forth and finally just clings to the side of her robe. "Elindath." Amarie blinks a bit and her eyes widen again as the gold hatches and she nudges Elshian, the green is apparently not on her mind for a second before she snaps her gaze back to see who the green fell in front of, "Gratz Linnea." she syas softly, chewing on her lip a bit as she sees the brown stomping his feet on the shards, "He's going to put a shard though his hide if he's not careful." Immaculate Ice Egg begins to roll a bit, white highlights catching the reflection of the cavern's glows, sending sparkling dewdrops of light over sands and the faces of spectators and Candidates alike. The glacier may be slow, but it is powerful, and little can be done to stop its progression. This egg /will/ hatch...although it will take its time to do so. Dewdrops in the Desert Gold doesn't make the entrance into the world that she'd probably prefer. The collapse of her egg leaves her sprawled in a melee of shards and sand, and she lies there a bare moment, the red in her eyes briefly--very briefly--streaked yellow by startlement. Still, it's with some small scrap of dignity that she pulls herself up and shakes the debris from her gleaming hide. Did she stumble? No matter. She takes in the Sands around her, the first thing to catch her notice being the enormous, gleaming forms of her parents, and it takes her a moment of study to decide that they can probably provide her with neither food nor lifemate. Aislinn shifts her weight around, doing the whole hot sands underfoot dance that's becoming rather familiar by now. She wipes her free hand absently on her robe then, leaving a darkish smear of sweat behind. "Oh, ew, it's getting way too hot down here." She turns to answer LInnea then, only to find the girl quite distracted by an angular green in her arms. "Elindath, that's perfect. Congratulations, Linnea." Her gaze flicks back to Elshian then. "Interesting, I'd say. Who do you think she'll go to?" She eyes the gold quizzically, then cranes her neck to peer down the row of remaining candidates. Elshian shakes his head at Aislinn. "I'm not going to even venture a guess. I could be wrong, and if I suggest someone I might insult someone else. Did I remember to say good luck to you? If not, good luck." He turns to Amarie. "You too." And to Linnea, "Congratulations." Elindath finds her feet yet another time, seemingly stabilized by her chosen one's affection. A low murmur joins, briefly, the humming of much older dragons, but the muddy green's song is just for her Linnea. She butts the girl's hand with her jaw, then, tongue flickering. Lesra calls out congratulations to Linnea as well. Immaculate Ice Egg pauses, the quiet before the calving iceburg...or the silence before the avalanche. The shattering of eggs continues around it's icy perfection, as do the noises of Impression and cries of happiness. Then, with a loud 'CRACK!', the egg splits. Immaculate Ice Egg crumbles, freeing the frosted brown inside. Frosted Earth Brown Gleaming light curls around each line of this young brown's thick frame, deep umber of breast and belly surrendering to winter-light frost that collects and clings at every edge. Corners, like each joint of moon-bright wings, shine with the pale whispers of reflected, illuminated light, while the rest of him dips into the shadowed hues of bare earth and scuffed soil. His hide appears finely textured for the contrast of rich brown and smooth gilding, with just the subtlest of spring's brightness at tail and talon to offset those glittering highlights - so like his sire's in frozen form. Still stuck on Linnea's impression, Satiet's mouth opens and shuts, and finally she's able to vocalize, "Tunnelsnake. Too bad for Joilin. The name's prettier than the dragon is." If she sounds acerbic in her assessment, it at least is weighed out by the sudden emptiness at one side of her, and as such, she moves in closer to Amarie. "I expected her to at least stand with me the entirety of this." Her gaze sweeps across the sands again, pinpointing the other dragonets to dodge, and pauses, very briefly, on the gold. "The clutch of chin-to-sand hatchlings. They seem to like falling over a lot." Summer Lightning Brown suddenly feels the need to sneeze, probably induced by the sand on its face. It is an impressive sneeze, likely sending a light spray of sand on the white clad humans nearby. Opening his eyes, the brown sees a red headed human and sneezes again, stumbling forward by the violence of the action. This brings him closer to the group of white clad humans, but that doesn't matter. First, his face is free of sand and egg fragments, and second, there stands the slim and slender girl and that's all that matters to him. Lesra has one eye on the newly hatched dragons, and another on the eggs. Now she needs a third to watch her fellow candidates, as she misses half the Impressions on the Sands. Her head flicks back and forth as she tries to see everything, and occasionally scan the Stands as if looking for someone. V'lano is moved to his first actual cheer of the hatching, though he's remarked in the positive for several Impressions thus far. It's for Linnea he hoots a sudden, undignified whoop, then backs into his dragon's foreleg. "I saw her get Searched," he informs Josilina, then, a bit dumbly, "Er... so did you." Amarie nods at Satiet's comment and she ahhs as the Immaculate Ice egg hatches out another brown, "He's rather handsome, isn't he?" she says to the others, before chuckling a bit at the comment from Satiet. Dewdrops in the Desert Gold launches a new plan of attack and sets off, with determination, for the nearest clump of white-robed things. Instinct tells her that the answer to all her problems and the second half of her hungry soul is somewhere among them, and it's just a question of finding... but momentum is another thing she hasn't quite yet mastered, and when eagerness quickens her step, she only avoids barrelling into a young man by his last-minute dodge. The catch is that this jump causes him to step on her damp and dragging tail. The young dragon *bawls* out a note of dismay and jerks away, storming from the source of her embarrassment as fast as her weak legs can carry her. Linnea raises her head, her watery eyes strengthened by the presence of this other being. "Yes, Elindath," she repeats, perhaps to clarify to Satiet. The dignified gold? Might as well not exist. Linnea nods appreciation of the well-wishes, then laughs as the little one flicks her tongue. "It stings?" Li touches her own belly, eyes dancing with light. "Let's fill it up!" Remembering the directions, somehow, she looks around to figure out where to go to soothe the dragonet. S'din shows Linnea her way off the sands back through the passageway. Linnea has left. Aislinn's eyes start to get clouded over as she falls completely silent. A blank look takes over her face, and then she bursts into tears, shouting out a name, "Kienth!" Elindath trails her selected person, her happy little murmur chasing the newmade weyrling along. Elindath has left. S'din wasn't busy at the moment, so seems to simply appear behind the new couple. He gathers them up while calling out, "Welcome to Aislinn and Kienth!" he guides them both gently off the sands and out of harm's way. Elshian grins at Aislinn. "Congratulations. Kienth? Great name." He lets her hand go and grins at Amarie. "Didn't he make a great choice?" "I did." Josilina agrees with V'lano, looking rather delighted for the green's impression as well. "/And/ she was in the records room with us. Elindath. That's a pretty name, I think, even if she did come from a kind of gray egg." Bidran 's eye follow the remaining brown as it makes it's way through the sands. Frosted Earth Brown stands still a moment, as if shocked at his sudden birth into the bright world, the shards of his icy egg still crumbling around him. Then the situation he is in crashes down upon him. He is wet. He is sticky. He is hungry. He is tired from breaking his egg. Mostly, however, he is hungry. His head raises up on his neck and swivels around, whirling red eyes searching for a certain someone. Amarie blinks a bit as Aislinn calls out a name and she smiles a bit more, "Oh Aislinn, congrats, really." she says as she hears her call and then she blinks a bit of sweat out of her eyes and looks back at the gold and brown still on the sands, "Wow, is it almost over already?" Aislinn has left. Lesra has to let go of Bidran's hand to wipe it and the other one on her robe. She claps for Aislinn's Impression, then resumes watching the Sands. Foggy Fall Egg rustles determinedly in the sand, moving with such agitation that a few grains are scattered airborne around the shell before it subsides again. It is quiet for only a few moments before a subtly encouraging croon from Lhiannonth seems to give it renewed energy. The shell bursts open at the top, leaving a hole for a slender, graceful green to clamber out of. In the process of escape, she tramples the remains of her egg, then starts out across the sand in a beeline, trampling other shell-shards and barely leaving a girl from Boll time enough to flee her determined path. At the end of that self-sure journey she's found, at last, the massive apprentice Dundren, who just gapes in wide wonder for a moment before stammering, "Uh. You, uh, want -me-, Salvayeth? But you're - " No matter. The big boy buries his head in the dragonet's neck to hide sudden tears. Satiet watches the other girl move off, and sighs quietly. "I can't tell if they're handsome or not. They've just hatched. It's like those daft mothers who push a baby to your face and expect you to tell them they're the most adorable little red-faced runt you've ever seen." Her teeth, instead of just worrying her lips, comes down to clamp on the lower one nicely. Perhaps the pain'll help bring her to some state of normalcy. "Kienth? Bless you, oh, the name." She's so eloquent at the moment. Storm Tossed Sea Egg trembles slightly, like ripples foaming outward on the ocean as the wind ruffles its surface. A moment's hesitation and then a wave seems to pass underneath the egg, lifting it up to the lip of sand it wallows in, not quite carrying it over the top. Kienth has left. Elshian now has a free hand, which he tries to put in a pocket, but the pocket isn't there. He looks down and grins. "Oh yeah." He let's his hand just...be there then, and he's still holding onto Amarie's hand with the other. "This is a lot different than watching it in the galleries. I can't wait to see my family, I hope they got here." Frosted Earth Brown shambles down off the mound, head darting back and forth as the kinks are worked out of his young muscles. The light of the glows shine off his burnished brown hide, still wet with hatching fluids. Hungry. Wet. Wet. Hungry. And...sticky. The grains of sand start to bunch up under the brown's fore talons and he has /another/ thing to occupy his attention. He stops and with wobbling balance licks at his foot to dislodge the sand. There. Step. Except more sand is under his /back/ right leg now. He whines just a bit in frustration. Dewdrops in the Desert Gold is not helped by her irritation, because the path she takes across the Sands, though determined, is towards all the wrong people. She investigates this boy, she investigates that one. None seem to content her for some strange reason. Her wings fidget, their tips dragging in the sands, and her claws rake marks in the ground from sheer frustration. But even this young, she isn't stupid. The males aren't what she wants? Then it's time to study the females, and she does so, looking over each form she passes with brilliant and decidedly crimson eyes. Lesra sees the gold moving around, and stiffens a little bit in case running is necessary. She shifts her weight again to try to cool her feet, and that action brings the brown into view. OK, another one to watch out for. "Bidran, do you know how many have Impressed so far?" The Northern Spectacle Egg has been shaking and then stilling for quite some time while others surrounding it have yielded their contents. But finally, with only another one or two eggs remaining cracks finally spider across its surface until the pieces of shell fall off to reveal a midnight blue dragonet. Still damp wings are spread out, oversized compared to his body as his head turns this way and that to survey the remaining candidates. Spotting his clutchsire and dam he offers up a polite warble before moving towards the figures spread out on the hot sands. After closely examining a pale slender lad, he wanders off again, stopping in front of a brown haired girl from Fort. As her brown eyes look down at him, a warm croon is heard, and then a cry of delight from Bevy as she says, "Yes Avasith, yes, I will be yours forever." Bidran shakes his head, "No, sorry, I haven't been able to keep track." Amarie hrms a bit as she looks at the gold as the hatchling passes, "She's rather... intense, isn't she?" she says softly to Elshian, before her eyes go to the brown as well as he whines some, "And he doesn't sound happy at all." she says before she ducks her head a bit to wipe some sweat off her brow and she puffs a bit of air upwards, trying to dry her damp face at the same time as cool it off as she hops a bit from one foot too the other, "I do hope they'll get on with it though, it's hot out here." Storm Tossed Sea Egg spins around frenetically, as if being propelled by a stiff wind and undulates in place as waters shiver its timbers. Another rising wave of motion shifts it upwards, upwards again and over the lip of sand this time, rolling rapidly down and away from where it lay. It comes to rest some feet away, rocking back and forth crazily, subtle cracks changing its surface structure, a warning sign of the life within about to break free. Elshian nods. "She even took a look at the boys too. I wouldn't want to be the subject of her gaze too long." He lifts up his burning feet and nods again. "I wouldn't mind some cool water to put my feet in right about now." Frosted Earth Brown starts to shake his back leg with annoyance. He starts to walk again, but now it has a distinct limp to it. A limp that progresses from one leg to two to three as sand gets under most of his claws, now. A dragon with an all-around limp is a somewhat unusual thing to see. He flutters his wings. Hungry. Wet. Sticky. Sandy. The list of complaints is growing. There definitely has to be a someone for him, if only to take care of these /horrible/ conditions. He starts towards a group of Candidates which includes some overly tall ones. Satiet tilts her head, following Amarie's line of sight and smirks, "At least she hasn't fallen more than once that I've noticed." Her feet shift, as if suddenly cued to the fact that they should be overheating. "And their hides must be rather thick," she adds begrudgingly, "For all their tendency to fall over like top heavy women of ill morals. There's no burns that you can tell of right now." The slight figure aligns herself a little behind the former herder assistant headwoman. Storm Tossed Sea Egg finally crumbles, shell falling away around its bronze occupant. Red Sky Bronze Streaks of morning flame paint this sinuously long dragon's sides with bronze forged in the red heart of the rising sun. From nose to tail-tip, he shimmers with the glory of matinal light reflecting off a bed of cloud, casting brighter rays against clouds' darkness that fade out into pale ghosts. Wing's span, when spread is wide, a graceful sweeping arc that belies the sometime awkwardness of his ground-bound form. Translucent sails are barely more than a veil of reflected carmine glow, delicate-seeming when cast open in flight. Dewdrops in the Desert Gold gathers her limbs, their number and length cumbersome enough to make her awkward in approaching yet another Candidate. The approach, however, is final, sparing her further indignities. After arching her neck high to consider her new possession from a skyward vantage, she merely lowers her head to the slight girl's shoulder, seemingly content to rest there a while. They'll have much to do, this blue-eyed lifemate and she... but for just this moment, each is surely all the other needs. Josilina looks rather puzzled as she watches the brown start to limp. "What's he doing?" She sort of squints, head tilting to one side. "D'you think he got sand stuck in his claws?" A pause. "-All- his claws I mean? - Bronze!" That's for the latest hatched. "Oh he's pretty." Amarie tries hard not to chuckle, first at the brown's antics and then at Satiet's comments, "You know, if one of them wants you, I don't want them trying to come through me to get at you." she says as she looks over her shoulder at Satiet, nissing the bronze hatching til Josilina shouts it out and she whips her head around. Elshian chuckles at Amarie and Satiet. "That's a good point Amarie. I'm sure if a hatchling comes barrelling over here, we'll all help make sure nobody gets mauled. So no worries Satiet." Red Sky Bronze rests a moment as his egg falls away from him, like a seacrafter washed up on the beach from the wreckage of a ship. Slowly, lids pull back from eyes, whirling orangely as he takes in his surroundings. Finally, his long limbs curl beneath him and he pushes upward, longer even tail uncurling like a banner behind him. This way and that his head swivels on his sinuous neck and then wings gracefully unfurl, spread wide for a moment, light tracing redly through them, before they fold once more. Gravely, the young bronze regards this motion of his, as if it is the most interesting thing in the world, before he takes a first unsteady step forward. Satiet's snittish commentary comes to a halt, if briefly, the seconds of silence from her possibly dragging out longer in her own mind. And then there's a hand reaching to her shoulder, an owlish blink to her eyes and a falter of the prim fear/confidence that strikes her face. "You do," is the reply to an unvoiced comment, "And I am yours, Teonath." And there's just one tear that stings the corner of her eyes, the subtle play on her lips curving upwards in that too old, too knowing smirk of a smile. It's still only one hand and a cheek to the head on her shoulder, but the claim and submission to ownership is made. S'din swoops down upon the newest Weyrlings at High Reaches, "Congratulations to Satiet and Teonath!" He guides the glowing pair out the passageway and into their new lives together. V'lano is, by now, relaxed enough by the diminishing number of eggs and the increasing number of little dragons off the sands to smirk Josilina's way. "That's two bronzes, isn't it? And a gold." That gold's selection is, briefly, without his notice while he brags additionally, "And no grays." He returns his attention to the sands, then, and starts forward as he sees Satiet draped by the young gold - "She'll be mauled!" And then stops just as suddenly. After a breathless moment of dulled realization, he mutters darkly, "Or... not." Lesra is distracted by Josilina's cry and misses seeing the gold dragon choose her lifemate. She's momentarily lost in admiration of the bronze when a cry from S'din brings her out of it. "Oh, congratulations Satiet! Elshian watches the bronze for a moment. "Now that's interesting, how deliberate this one is. Some of them impress so fast, you don't get to see much of them before they're already gone." He turns away from the sands and lets go of Amarie's hand long enough to clap briefly. "Congratulations Satiet." He retakes Amaries hand and grins at her neighbor. "Your lucky hands strike again." Amarie eeps as the gold hovers over her for a moment to rest her head on Satiet's head, "Now see, what did I tell you, one of them wanted you, gratz." she syas as she edges out of the way, "Yeah, so it would seem." she says with a faint, now tired grin at Elshian as she hops from foot to foot, "Look at that Bronze though, he's amazing, isn't he." Satiet's hand drifts away, only somewhat listening to the order of the weyrlingmaster behind her. A mute nod is her reply, followed by a lowly voiced jumble of gibberish to the dragonet, followed by a simple command, louder, "Come." And keeping tactile contact between the gold and herself, she follows S'din's voice towards the exit off the sands. "And no chickens." Josilina agrees with a brief glance towards the shards - all that remain of the ice egg. "Don't sound so disappointed." She chides V'lano in a mutter for his last, craning her neck to get a better look at the new gold pair. "Congratulations! - great Faranth that's Satiet. I've met her." Teonath indeed does not maul her Satiet--anything but. She extends her head yet further to rub her own soft-hided cheek against that of her chosen, a sound escaping her that's remarkably like a soft croon. Still, such contentment can only last so long. Croon turns swiftly to creel--she's hungry, here!--and she follows after S'din right beside, her tail flicking once to bid farewell to Sands and all their already-forgotten embarrassments. Frosted Earth Brown stops before a /very/ tall boy. He looks up and up and up, momentarily forgetting about the sand caught under his claws. He doesn't forget about the hungry and sticky bit, though. Maybe this one will do? At the very least, maybe this one will feed him. He headbutts into the knees of the blond-haird lad, forcing attention to be paid to him. Brinath bugles happily, if a bit high-pitched, at his new lifemate, B'dran. B'dran 's mouth falls oopen in suprise as he realizes that he has been chosen by the Brown, "He say's his name is Brinath!" Intimately familiar with the way a new Weyrling pair can be completely oblivious to everything around them, S'din herds the newly-Impressed pair out through the passageway after calling out, "Welcome and congratulations to B'dran and Brinath! Red Sky Bronze looks down as his foot makes that first step and sands' texture meets sensitive new skin. He rumbles softly and digs his claws into the stuff a bit more deeply, something akin to glee in his expression as the orange dims in his eyes for a moment, the immediacy of hunger giving way to exploration. Another step taken, each motion deliberate, likely a good thing, given how gangling the bronze dragonet looks and then at last he turns his head towards the remaining Candidates on the sands. His nostrils flare as new scents come his way and then he lets out a thrumming, low-voiced croon and sets off towards a huddled group. He doesn't get far, unfortunately, his long tail swishing back and forth behind him, drags in the sand and he stumbles to his fore-knees, haunches still uplifted, albeit all a-wobble. Will he, or won't he fall? B'dran follows S'din and heads to the passage. Lesra laughs and appluads loudly. "Congratulations Bidran! Brinath is a wonderful brown dragon." /This/ time at least, she got a good view of things. Elshian looks over and grins at the new pairing. "Congratulations there Bidran...or, what is his new name? Anyway, welcome to High Reaches Brinath," he calls to the departing pair. "It -is- Satiet," V'lano replies with a sigh. "And I've met her too." A slow smile creeps over his face as Bidran becomes by grace of brown hatchling, B'dran, and he notes to himself, "This is Reaches." As if he's only just realized. Josilina gives V'lano a sidelong, perhaps curious look before she shrugs, attention quickly drawn by the mentions of B'dran's name. "Ooh, Bidran! That's wonderful - Brinath? He was the limping brown?" V'lano strokes Volath's foreleg with strangely reminiscent affection while watching the second bronze make his rough way around the sands. "No chickens," he belatedly adds to his list of draconic accomplishments. "Yes," a bit louder, with a cant of his head toward the goldrider. "He's going to need some serious oiling with the sandbath he took." Drips and Drizzles Egg suddenly flops over. For a little while it just lies there, though a telling stain starts to seep onto the sand from beneath it, the clear damp of egg-goo. Slowly the shell seems to levitate upward, though soon it becomes apparent the egg has grown dragon-legs, which protrude from breaks in the shell's underside. The dragonet-to-be hunches down on those legs and shakes, spanning wings - a pairing of actions that sends shards flying and reveals him in all of his brown glory. He makes a tiny effort at a bugle, announcing his delightful presence to the world, then struts forward to sniff at several candidates before burying his snout in Joilin's hair. A lengthy huff of contentment precedes the new weyrling's triumphant shout: "Vanoroth!" Then, more softly: "You can get your eggy little snout out of my hair now." Ad'ion nods and uses the cloth to rub the oil into his blue's skin, chuckling softly and says, "Oh, you're just being a snob... but I love you anyway." He's meticulous in the oiling of the blue and he says, "Hey there, Bidran! I mean... well, B'dran, apparently!" Elshian points the newest impression out to Amarie. "Wasn't someone talking about that candidate? I can't remember who." Attention goes back to the wobbly bronze. "If he falls, I hope he doesn't get hurt..." Red Sky Bronze trembles in place for a moment, a curled wave of bronze, nose hovering dangerously near sands' surface, before strength and determination prevail. There's a smooth-enough motion of wings outward, that helps him balance and he's moving once more. This time, he makes an effort to keep his tail up, looking behind him to make sure it's following properly. Satisfied for the nonce, his eyes return to roving the awaiting crowd, head swaying back and forth thoughtfully as orange intensity returns to his gaze. And then, unerringly, like an arrow released from the string, he suddenly strides forward, though his gait is far from graceful. He's bearing down on a girl and boy, standing near each other, intent on the lad, rather than the lass. Lesra watches the bronze, even though he's not heading in her direction at the moment. Best be safe from the VSC's. She edges away from him, after a quick backward glance to make sure she doesn't step on anyone's toes. Amarie nods her head a bit, "Satiet was" she says softly, looking up at the galleries as she blinks a bit and as the bronze draws near, she pulls back from Elshian, "Go get your dragon." she says as she wips at her eyes with a free hand and she moves over tos tand with Lesra. Josilina leans against Lhiannonth's side as the last egg crumbles and the gold's humming fades away completely. "They all are. I mean, how many took nosedives today? There were at least three, I'm sure of it." Three. All. Same thing. "Last one." That's so-softly said as the bronze appears to close in on his choice. Elshian blinks at Amarie. "Huh? What?" Suddenly he's alone and a little confused about how that happened. He takes an instinctive step backwards and looks at his now empty hands. What will he do with them now? Temorarily they clasp each other until he finds a better alternative. Red Sky Bronze emits a deep, throaty crooning from several steps away before he even reaches his intended quarry. The wave of sound precedes him, even as eyes meet eyes - his swirling with needful hunger, the boy's, icy blue in a round face topped by shaggy in-need-of-a-cut hair. His nose delicately bumps the young man in the chest and his tail starts to curl around him protectively, causing him to lose what balance he'd found and sit down. The joyous crooning doesn't stop however, thrumming deeply outward from the radiant dragonet. L'ian laughs and nods, unclasping his hands so he can put them around the bronze. "It sure looks like you've found me Rojieth. Wow, who would have thought?" He looks at his neighboring candidates. "His name is Rojieth, isn't he great?" He turns back to his lifemate. "Here, let me help you up. You must be hungry." S'din looks around the very-nearly-empty sands as he calls out, "Welcome, L'ian and Rojieth!" He guides the final pair off the sands, following behind them himself, leaving the truly final, unenviable task to Josi and V'lano. Lesra sees the bronze make his choice, and calls out congratulations to L'ian and Rojieth. Amarie wipes at her eyes a bit and she curls her arms against herself as she heaves a deep sigh, looking over at Josilina, waiting for the ineviable that's to come. Been there, done this before, not the first time so she just waits for what's going to happen next. V'lano grins. While the bronze has half of his attention, he keeps a spare eye on the remaining candidates, offering a tired smile for any who might look his way - those who are not, at any rate, watching much more closely the small bronze than the grown one. "Now what," he murmurs, while Volath, too, finishes humming - mostly at Lhiannonth's cue - and then looks stunned, crooking his neck to eye the empty eggshells. Josilina watches for a moment as L'ian and Rojieth are led away before she straightens and steps away from Lhiannonth. "Now we talk to them." Josilina mutters back, stepping forward and closer to those candidates left. "You all have been amazing, really. And we're really grateful that you all were willing to stand here for Lhiannonth and Volath's eggs." V'lano, semi-startled, accompanies Josilina in stepping forward only a split-second behind her movement. He smiles blinkingly at those who remain, a light redness rising in the tops of his ears, while the goldrider speaks. "Thank you," he tacks on, helpfully. Josilina pauses before she continues, "You all are, of course, welcome to stay here at High Reaches if you wish to. If not, we'll make sure a ride is arranged for you to get home, if you need. But in either case, thank you for being here and there're drinks and food and stuff in the living cavern, and we hope you'll join us all there." Amarie shrugs a bit and she just looks down at the sands, probably just wanting to get off the sands and cool her feet. Her shoulders twitch a little and she rubs at the sweat on her face and she shakes her head a bit, probably getting her hair out of her face. Lesra looks out over the shard-littered Sands, an all-too-familiar sight. She squares her shoulders and wipes the sweat off her face with the shoulder of her robe. "I'll be staying here, Weyrwoman. I'll be at the dinner as soon as I clean up a bit." Seeing a few people shuffling uncertainly Josilina adds a bit awkwardly, "Erm. That's all, really. Just, thank you." Then hearing Lesra she smiles, "That's good to hear Lesra. I'm glad you'll still be around." Amarie nods a bit and she bows to the dragons and thier riders again before heading off the sands quietly. Even the clutchsire's rider brightens at the notion of feasting to be done. "And music, I hope," V'lano smiles, with a sidelong look of almost curiousity at the weyrwoman before returning his attention to the candidates. A faintly disappointed look falls on Amarie, a heartfelt nod to Lesra, an encouraging grin for a Lemos boy - and then he notes, "A cold - anything - would be perfect just now." Lesra bows to the dragons on the Sands, out of habit, then leaves. "I hate that bit." Josilina mutters as she steps back a bit, watching as the sands empty out even further. "Probably music. Maybe." She shrugs, leaning back against Lhiannonth for a moment. "Shards." It's either a mild curse or simply an observation. "Josilina?" V'lano retreats as well, but not to his bronze. Instead he nears the weyrwoman and tilts his head a bit, the curious look returning directly now instead of askance. "If you're up to it - would you like to go eat a little, have a drink? Unless R'sel's waiting - " He grins. "But now that this is all - over - " The grin weakens. He offers a hand, but then, "If you'd like to just go rest, I'll make good for you." Josilina's head tilts too, in consideration. "You know, I think I will. R'sel can find me if he needs." She decides with a grin, straightening up again - this time with more energy than for the last task. "Did Kassima make it?" She wonders, adding, "Did you two have a bet going about one of the colors?" "We had a bet regarding a gold egg," V'lano replies with a smirk. "Something about a blue, too," he absentmindedly notes while a turn toward the galleries leads him to squinting for the Telgar wingleader. "I don't remember that part so well. Only marks." As the crowd's dispersing with haste he's forced to admit after a little more scanning of galleries and ledges, "I don't know. It'd be unlike her to not come to make good on her wagers - unless she sent someone to do the tally for her." His smile crooks wryly on that. "I already paid up on the gold egg. She'll owe me well." "You -already- paid up?" Josilina repeats, eyebrows arching. "That's a pretty silly way to run a bet. So now, what? She'll owe you double?" She extends a foot to nudge at a blue-ish egg shard before waving the bronzerider on. "I'm sure she came. It's near impossible to figure anyones faces up there," she nods to the galleries, "when you're down here." "Well, she figured there was no gold. I mean, you saw the eggs." But Volath's rider looks coy at Josilina for a moment, smile teasing up the edges of his mouth. "You're probably right that she did. But you and I should have at least a little talk before he finds you - and I imagine he will - or your Weyr swarms over you." Warm eyes turn back to the weyrwoman, then V'lano moves back to her. "Shall we?" The bronze, already twitching his wings, cants his head toward Lhiannonth in turn. A tired but adoring rumble favors the queen. Lhiannonth rumbles back to the bronze - tired too, and perhaps a little mournful of hatchlings hatched and gone. But overall she seems pleased as she gives the sands a final look-over and stretches some. "Mmm. Swarming. What fun." Josilina grimaces, albiet good naturedly. "Sounds good to me." "Thanks," V'lano tells the goldrider with a hint of wryness, and starts toward the bowl at an easy pace, leaving the dragons behind to consider the remnants of their fled offspring - though as he crosses the shell-laden detritus, he pauses to bend and filch up one shard, streaked with yellow and dappled with red, and then another in foggy gray. Satisfied, he straightens and continues. "You know, I've really enjoyed Reaches' hospitality..." Josilina doesn't miss the picking up off that gray shell bit and her eyes narrow just a touch. But in the end she shakes her head and starts after the bronzerider. "Well. We try. And it hasn't been all that awful having you here." Such graciousness. Josilina heads up a short flight of steps to the galleries. Josilina has left. V'lano heads up a short flight of steps to the galleries. V'lano has left. |
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