Logs:Of Eggs
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| RL Date: 22 October, 2006 |
| Who: Ayana, Balinne, Charis, Dassah, Imariel, Josilina, K'nder, Kasiese, R'hin, Shanlee, Suraiya, Wilf |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 26, Month 7, Turn 9 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 16:00 on day 26, month 7, Turn 59, of the Tenth Pass. It is a summer afternoon. You wander into an archway leading out onto the Weyrleaders' ledges. Weyrleader Ledges(#12138RJLs) A flight of steps worn smooth with time lead up to a broad flat area with enough room for a gold and her consort to sprall and lounge. Openings lead to a room used for conferences, the Weyrwoman's private room, and the hatching sands themselves. A round table of well polished hardwood sits in one corner and is surrounded by chairs. Contents: Josilina Leiventh Lhiannonth Obvious exits: Weyrleader SeniorWeyrWoman Bowl Passageway to the Hatching Grounds Council Chamber Sky Josilina's standing by Lhiannonth's head, running a hand over the side of her face and scritching at her eyeridges. While the gold is, overall, lying still, her tail is curling and uncurling restlessly. It's not all that uncommon for R'hin to have meetings throughout the day with various riders - and not necessarily Wingleaders, either - today, for example, he's chatting amiably with a bluerider from his clutch as they emerge from his weyr. Slapping the man on the back, the Weyrleader grins, "Give my best to Arneloth, will you, J'mian?" Nodding, J'mian murmurs a 'ma'am', as he passes by Josilina, heading down the ledges. Running a hand through his hair, R'hin leans a shoulder against the archway leading to his way, watching the Weyrwoman and Lhiannonth silently. "Afternoon," Josilina calls after the bluerider, his passing breaking her focused attention on Lhiannonth. The gold shifts uncomfortably and Jos frowns, glancing down her length. "Egg's'll be soon," she says, loud enough for her voice to carry to R'hin, though she doesn't actually look his way. "Good meeting?" "Good enough," is R'hin's abrupt response, and he seems to realize it as such, since a moment later he pushes away from the wall and walks over, voice softer as attention shifts to Lhiannonth. "She looks good." A little curve of lips, unbidden, as he offers, "Leiventh thinks so, too." The bronze's attention, like his riders, is fixed on Lhiannonth with half lidded eyes, the dragon otherwise still as he is given to do. "She looks fat," Josilina counters, blunt words less so by her fond tone. She glances at Leiventh at his mention and smiles, "Does he know it'll be soon too?" Lhiannonth shifts again, more pronounced, and rumbles a little. R'hin's shoulders shift slightly in momentary negation, before he glances sidelong at Leiventh, and, with a frown, says, "He hasn't wanted to leave the 'Reaches the last couple of days." The bronze's low, answering rumble to Lhiannonth is more felt that heard, the hook-nosed dragon's body shifting marginally as he regards the queen. "I miss flying," Josilina remarks, a little distractedly. She pauses while Lhiannonth shifts a third time and then, abruptly, gets to her feet and heads straight towards the entrance to the sands. "And by soon," Josilina remarks, already moving to follow, "I meant now." Lhiannonth has left. Josilina has left. Leiventh has left. High Reaches Weyr Hatching Grounds The sands are stiflingly hot beneath your feet, nearly burning through your footwear and keeping even this large high cavern quite warm. A mound of sand has been gathered up in the center of the cavern, and this is where the queen is laying her eggs, and will watch over them as they harden. Carefully prepared shallow depressions stand ready for the eggs that will soon fill them, while others gently cradle the flaccid eggs carefully deposited in them. Bordering the sands to the south and west are the tiered benches of the galleries. Ledges for spectating dragons jut out from the cavern walls in every direction high above. A dark passageway leads off the sand towards the senior queen's weyr. Contents: Leiventh Sandy Mound Josilina Lhiannonth Obvious exits: Passageway Galleries Leiventh senses that Lhiannonth's mindvoice is saturated with glints of silver and bright flecks of red urgency, « The eggs come. Now. » In the galleries, Imariel strolls up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. 'In the nick of time' could apply to Lhiannonth's arrival - she just has time to smooth out a hollow in the sand before she crouches for the arrival of a dark, mucus-y egg. Paying no mind to its less-than-appealing appearance, the gold steps aside and mounds sand around it briskly. "You really -do- mean now," R'hin remarks, mostly bemused, as he trails after Josilina towards the sands. Leiventh's ahead of him, the bulk of the cinnamon-bronze shadowing the larger gold as he paces out towards the hot sands.
Glistening with a slick-appearing surface, thick gobbets of near gelatinous, clear slime seem to ooze their way down and across the midnight surface of this nightmare egg. Black as space - an ebony which destroys all light and hope - the curves of the elongated sphere hint at possible reflections of sickly green and roiling purple with the stray touch of ambient light. Creeping, undulating, spreading like a disease, tentacular arcs and knobby protrusions draw a bizarre landscape of terror from base to apex - leading the eye deeper into the nest of horrors which lie, waiting, within.
Josilina follows behind Lhiannonth, looking startled at the rapidity of the first egg's arrival. "Great Faranth," she blurts at the look of it. "Well. That's, um. Gooky. Gookier, than usual." The second egg comes with much of the impatience of the first; Lhiannonth doesn't have much time to bury the last before she shuffles aside to lay a distinctly two-toned egg. In the galleries, Dassah was seeking a few moments of peace and quiet in what should have been one of the more deserted places in the weyr, the galleries to the sands. So when a bulging gold suddenly arrives, and is spitting out eggs, she is more than a little non-plussed.
There's no blending in this egg, the two colors distinct and divided evenly over the surface. Split neatly in half from top to bottom, one side offers the intricacy of beading along the leathery shell - iridescence found in the sheen of an off-white base mixed intermittently with exceedingly pale gold. Painted curtains, gauzy and light seem to hang low into this patchwork of silvery beads and exude gracious elegance oft found in the confidence of well-bred ladies. A sensual swirl of crimson neatly separates the white from the other half of the egg: a brilliant and eye catching pink. In this side, a cascade of varying shades of rose seem to flounce gaudily in the swish of color that descends like ruffles. No doubt, the color is cheerful, the artwork enthusiastic, and while it lacks the intricacy of its more genteel half, there's a certain charisma captured in this vibrantly pink side. In the galleries, Tavrie strolls up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. In the galleries, L'sen walks up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. R'hin's following Josilina's gaze towards Lhiannonth, surprise bespeaking itself with a twitch of brows. "She certainly doesn't seem inclined to wait," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. He's more pleased that Josilina; it is Leiventh's first clutch, after all, and the eggs are surveyed with pride. Leiventh hovers behind the queen - not able to help, but watchful, anticipatory all the same, rumbling low encouragement now and then. In the galleries, Ayana meanders up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. In the galleries, Imariel was out exploring, using the time away from the kitchens to see what the rest of the weyr is like. And, she finds the Hatching Grounds, just in time, it would seem. Her eyes widen some, and she makes her way to a seat in the gallery, watching in fascination as the golden queen seems to be laying her eggs on the warm sands. Sinking into the seat, Immie's eyes are riveted on the sands, not paying attention to much of anything else going on. She's vaguely aware of others arriving, but ... well, she doesn't look away from the sands quite yet. In the galleries, Suraiya wanders up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. Josilina retreats to closer to the gallery wall, giving the dragons plenty of space to pace and fuss with the sands. "Maybe it's like regular babies. They say the second and third take less time than the first." She smiles at the next egg and tucks her hands in her pockets, "They don't do much, but they're still pretty great. The eggs, I mean." Lhiannonth leaves the pink and white egg for Leiventh to deal with, taking some time to scoop out a deep cradle for the imminent third egg which, once laid, appears disproportionately small for its nest, orange and gray sides nearly hidden by sand.
Strikingly bright orange streaks swirl across this egg, a fierce contrast with the dull gray underneath. Buried deep in the sands, its apex barely rises three quarters of the height of the eggs around it, though the gaudy coloring makes up for the lack of size. On closer inspection, the egg is not only buried deep in the sand, but it actually is smaller then the other eggs. In the galleries, Dassah shifts a bit as she relaxes from being startled, and leans forward to watch. Eggs aplenty, it would seem, and all a myriad of colors and patterns. A small smile plays on her features as she watches, shaking her head a bit. Spotting Imariel nearby, she offers the girl a silent wave in greeting. Pushing his sleeves back in deference to the heat, R'hin paces Josilina towards the wall, not quite hovering, but a gentlemanly hand held out near her back as if he were guiding her, and not the other way around. Pale gaze darts from the Weyrwoman to the eggs, that upward curve of lips never abating as he murmurs, "They don't do much -yet-. But they're the future of the Weyr." He's oblivious, for now, to the crowd beginning to gather in the galleries, eyes flickering over the eggs as they arrive. Leiventh, with Lhiannonth's example, nudges the pink and white egg into a better position, piling the hot sand around it, hovering over it for a while. In the galleries, Ayana strides into the galleries, choosing a seat alittle ways from the growing crowd as she looks to be scanning them for a particular face. It's only belated that her gaze goes to the sands as she sits, a thin smile playing on her lips. Pacing the sands, Lhiannonth makes something of a detour to near her rider, dipping her head down near Josilina's. After a moment Josi laughs and the gold moves away to nose out a hollow and lay a large, squat egg.
A large and oddly shaped egg, at first glance it appears to be a perfect sphere until closer inspection proves that it rests on a slightly flattened base. This provides some advantage against toppling over but gives it a squat look that isn't entirely attractive. Its shell is pretty enough; the base hue is a dull grey but that canvas is softened by a web of violet-edged white. The jagged pattern clasps the egg's entire surface, bright enough to almost obscure the more structured designs that are hidden beneath. In the galleries, Shanlee strolls up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. In the galleries, Freed from her duties by kind, tried co-workers, Tavrie hurries into the gallery as soon as she can be spared. The young woman's face glows with excitement as a new generation of dragons is making their first appearance on the sands of High Reaches. Looking about for a familiar face, she chooses a seat and settles into it, eyes intent on the sand. In the galleries, Wilf meanders up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. In the galleries, K'nder meanders up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. "/Lhia/," Josilina mutters, half-covering her face with a hand, at that orange and gray egg. "She does those on purpose," she informs R'hin with a grimace. Lhia gets a quick pat though, when she's near, and the newest egg gets an admiring look. After a moment she looks sidelong at R'hin, "Oh, and wise words, O' Weyrleader." She looks solemn, but for a faint, teasing smile lurking. In the galleries, Movement from the side catches Imariel's attention, and she turns her head in time to see Dassah's wave. A smile and a wave are returned, but then there's another egg hitting the sands, and that draws her eyes back. She leans forward, chin resting on both hands, Immie watches and seems entranced by the four-some below. Golden Lhiannoth and bronze Leiventh are given as much attention as the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman. In the galleries, Looking around in interest and seeing Dassah, and Imariel Shanlee waves at them. Eyes fixed on the unfolding events before her, Shanlee takes a seat and watches in fascination, as the eggs are revealed. Looking over at K'nder with wide eyes, she gives a slow gin and keeping herself deadstill places all her attention on the sands. "Wise beyond my Turns, Weyrwoman," R'hin quips in return to Josilina's tease, baritone laugh low, pleased. Speculative look is given, as he asks with a tip of head to the growing clutch, "How many, do you think?" Leiventh shows less interest in his rider; all his attention is split between the arriving eggs and Lhiannonth, examining each of the eggs and ensuring they're well settled before moving on. In the galleries, K'nder grins back at Shanlee as he sits next to her, leaning back to be more comfortable. "This will be a long time, Shan. Relax." In the galleries, Dassah looks back away from Imariel as another egg arrives; herself, her eyes are all for the new arriveals, their parents barely gien a look - one dragon is much the same as the next, but the eggs are always unique. Still, Shanlee does get noticed and a warm smile is sent to her friend. "Shanlee!" In the galleries, Suraiya is just running in from the water caverns, it seems. She leaps between the gathering crowd to get a good view of the clutching gold, with wet clothes and a small damp towel wrapped around her hair. She won't miss a clutching or a hatching at 'Reaches, even if she is mostly wet. Finally, she spots a seat she is comfortable with, rushing along to take it, but not before nearly slipping on the wet stone. She catches herself, grins foolishly at those around her, and settles into the empty space. In the galleries, Wilf sits comfortably on the opposite side of Shanlee, watching with interest, as theevents below unfold. Josilina's grin broadens at the return quip, and she casts a look about the sands, lingering on the latest that Lhiannonth is still covering with sand. "Ten," she decides. "Maybe nine. Or even eight, I guess. It's pretty far into the Interval, now. What do you think?" In the galleries, Shanlee chuckles at Suraiya's antics, and throws Dassah a grin - leaning back next to K'nder, she whispers "How long?" and makes room for Wilf as he seats himself. Lhiannonth is interrupted from piling sand around the last egg by another set of contractions. This next, spherical egg comes about without much fuss and the gold nudges it gently before setting to work half-burying it. In the galleries, Kasiese meanders up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl.
The utterly smooth and soft surface of this egg is unique and striking. The ovoid shape is distorted by the strange occurrence of a set of patterns that cover its perfectly smooth surface from top to bottom. Widening around its middle, the egg appears to be a touch more spherical than some of its peers. The apex rounds off a little sooner than some of the other eggs, more curved than sharp. Perhaps the almost square-shaped patches that bend themselves around its convex surface create this illusion as well. The nearly quadrilateral patches are mostly blue with variations in hue that shift the tile-like patterns from soft, powdery sky to a more dark and alluring midnight shade of indigo. It is a precisely designed arrangement of darkness and light all tinted with the color of imagination. In the galleries, K'nder smiles and murmurs back to Shanlee. "I hope you brought a pillow." as the next egg appears, he points it out to Shanlee. "There! Look at that one!" In the galleries, "Such beautiful colors..." Dassah says, awed at the purple tones of the most recent addition. "I don't remember them being so vibrant back home." In the galleries, Tavrie beams with childish delight as she examines the first egg to arrive since her own appearance. This rapt contemplation is ended when she notices that Lhiannoth has moved on and another has arrived. Remaining silent in appreciation, Tavrie now takes a moment to look around for familiar faces. A few seem to ring bells, but names aren't coming to her. The young woman shrugs and props her head in her hands to continue her vigil. "I'd like to say fifteen," R'hin says, "But I could be overshooting it a little, given it's our first time." A slight tip of head indicates Leiventh, though the bronzerider seems full of good humor still. "You know, proud parents and all. Smaller would be good, I think - it'll be easier on I'daur, then." His eyes settle on the newest egg, with a curve of lips. "That's what, five, six now? I can't tell - they keep burying them." In the galleries, Immie seems lost in her own world, just watching and occasionally glancing around herself. She spots people she knows, and offers smiles and waves, but no conversation at the moment. Each egg is looked at carefully, the colors drawing soft "ohs" from the girl. Her eyes are wide and filled with wonder. She can only imagine the flurry of activity in the kitchens, since there will likely be a celebration for the Hatching. She /should/ be helping, but how can she even think of missing this? In the galleries, Felix meanders up into the stands from the entrance to the bowl. "A little," Josilina echoes, wry and amused. "Mmm, it would be. That'd be nice, wouldn't want to overwhelm him first time 'round. Break him in gently, right?" She watches Lhiannonth go off to the side, apparently taking a break between eggs. "Five," Jos answers. "Other nice thing about smaller clutches is they take less time. I mean, eggs are great, but it's /hot/." As if he hadn't noticed. Lhiannonth settles some distance away from the eggs to rest, tail curling and uncurling restlessly. She's some moments there before rising to a crouch, and she doesn't even move closer to the rest of the clutch before depositing a black egg. In the galleries, "We're missing it," Kasiese says quickly as climbs the tiers, looking impatiently at the Journeyman that's trailing her with less evident excitement. "Clearly," he says dryly, "we could have just left her with a fever and no medicine because the walls started vibrating." The comment only earns an eyeroll from Kasiese, who, stopped at the edge of a row, is scouring for a pair of seats while Artlan peers over his shoulder at the mounds that are eggs.
Against the golden yellows of the sands, this egg stands out in stark, bleak contrast. Opaque, the black surface draws attention, the curve of its shell guiding eyes along the surface and down to the black fingers that seem to stretch out towards the hot sands. Although initially the egg seems entirely black, a closer inspection will reveal little white lines, like veins, that run across the entire surface, creating a mottled, rippling look of obsidian. The egg is set somewhat apart from the others within the clutch, as if a deliberately wide berth has been given. In the galleries, Suraiya scans the faces of those near her for anyone familiar, which are quite a few considering she lives there. She gives a full-toothed grin to each one and a wave before turning around to catch Lhiannonth's latest addition. She scoots closer to some of the other arriving residents, namely Shanlee, K'nder, and some others she was not familiar with. "Twelve," she says loudly and surely, her fingers wringing some of the water out of her shirt. She puts a face of total disgust at the last egg, though she hides it quickly with as she smiles to those around her. "Interesting clutch. What d'ya think?" In the galleries, Ayana stays quiet as she watches the sands, not showing much interest in the coversations about her. The black egg gets a raised brow of interest from the brownrider before Suraiya's look of digust gets her to quietly laugh. In the galleries, Wilf replies queitly still in awe at the clutching, "first time I've ever witnessed one" he smiles almost shyly at Suraiya. R'hin nods his head towards the shadier side of the gallery wall in silent suggestion, murmuring in amused agreement, "It's just a little warm," he laughs, "Remind me to have some study boots made up before the hatching? Or, possibly some nice little shady contraption on which to watch. I could talk to one of the woodcrafters?" He's silent a moment to watch the arrival of the new egg, which receives very little attention from Leiventh. "He'll be good for us," the Weyrleader finally says, apparently still talking of the Weyrlingmaster. In the galleries, Dassah remains silent herself. Her hands clasp in her lap and she leans forward more, watching with interest the arrival of each egg. One at a time as they arrive, each one different than the last. Lhiannonth snorts to herself, fussing with the sand of another hollow, before lowering herself over it. Stepping away, she reveals a round egg dominated by shades of gold and bronze, before piling sand around it.
In dusky maples offset by swirling clouds of creamed champagne lies hope in the glistening radiance of this rotund egg. More round than oblong, its shape lends itself to a planetary illusion that is similar to what Pern might look like from the skies - least what the starcrafters and fanciful harpers might describe, with golden light-shaded clouds hanging over the uneven coating of darker ocher continent-shapes and oceans. Spiraling upward from the base to apex is a thin line of bronze, its texture seemingly engraved into the egg's leathery surface. As it curls up, reaching to where the northern pole might be on a planet, the line is met by a dusty V, bronze sprinkled denser at the point and gradating out to blend seamlessly with the dusky base. At the arrow's point, in the weave of thin oceanic blues and spring greens lies the promise of a future.
In the galleries, Suraiya turns her blue eyes away from the clutching and gives her best startled expression to Wilf. "First time?" As if that expression could actually exist... well, it does. "My, you've been left out of things! There.." and here she points to the sands, "Are eggs. And more eggs. I spose the hatching is a lot more exciting. Have you seen one of those yet?" Before she can ramble off on the topic, the new egg seems to have caught her short attention and she "oohs" for a bit. "That's a prettier one." Pacing the Weyrwoman, R'hin's eyes pass over the galleries with interest, more subdued than his companion in his greeting - a brief nod given. "I think next time I'll have some handy, light clothing close by." His lips curve, and his gaze settles on the newest arrival at roughly the same time as Josilina notes it. "Ah," R'hin echoes, abruptly, "Is that--?" he glances sidelong at Josilina for confirmation, before a grin spreads across his lips. Leiventh gives a low, pleased rumble, pacing closer. In the galleries, Wilf looks at Suraiya still distracted and answers "yes first time," and looking back over the sands "no I haven't seen a hatching either." In the galleries, "That's lovely," Tavrie notes alound and then looks a little shy. She casts her gaze left and right, then lifts her shoulders in a faint shrug. The young woman nestles more comfortably into her seat and props her elbows on her knees to give herself a chin rest again. The nanny sighs heavily and chews on a bit of hair that happens to hang in her face. Lhiannonth makes her way to an indentation scooped out by Leiventh, warbling a thank you to the bronze before crouching to lay a small, silvery egg.
The primary color of this small, rough looking egg is dull silver. If one makes a closer inspection, specks of dark gray and black can be resolved, sprinkled lightly over the shell. An enthusiastic imagination might pick out familiar Pernian constellations, or even devise new ones for the sand-bound cosmic canvas. Occasionally, depending on how the gold dragon has most recently repositioned her charge, a slash of startlingly bright red is viewable, wrapping partway around the circumference of the egg's pointy end. The red patch inevitably draws the eye, seeming to glow against its silver backdrop as it reflects any nearby light source with mirror-like intensity. In the galleries, Dassah smiles brighter at the newest egg. "That one looks a lot less intimidating than the rest have." She comments, to noone in particular. A glance over towards Imariel and Shanlee, grinning to see them enjoying the show as well. In the galleries, Shanlee listens attentively as Suraiya excitedly chats to Wilf about the eggs. This latest egg was beautiful, they all were, well there was that black one.....but it added some interest. Smiling at the comments about boots and hot sands her attention drawn back to the next egg...."It's really interesting looking" Shanlee comments and grins back at Dassah. Somewhat sheepishly she looks at K'nder "You must think I'm quite odd round about now.....but they're just so gorgeous" and she blushes a little. In the galleries, "The colors are so striking," Imariel says, probably to no one in particular, just speaking her thoughts aloud. It's when she hears Dassah speak that she turns in her direction. "I'd no idea they were all so different," the girl remarks. "Somehow, I thought they'd be like other eggs, either white or brown. Or they'd be the color of the dragon inside." But her gaze doesn't wander from the sands for long, and soon she's back to egg watching. In the galleries, "It'll be quite an experience," Suraiya notes to her newly found clutching chat-buddy. "Ya haven't been here long, have you? Not sure if I've seen you." Suri, however, doesn't remove her attention from the sands anymore. She probs an elbow on her wet trousers and rests her head in her palm. "Hopefully you'll be here for the hatching. It'll be a really nice one, seeing how such pretty eggs are being laid." Her eyes dart around at some of the other bits of conversation she gets, grinning at some of the people around that doesn't seem to have seen a clutching before. Absorbed in fussing with the last egg, a fresh contraction seems to take Lhiannonth by surprise and she hastily crouches to lay another darker egg. She takes a moment to give it a look-over before setting to work in pushing sand around it.
As though buried for centuries of dust, this egg mixes swirls and swirls of rich sandy brown and deep ebony black. Tiny points, like diamonds, wink from its depths. Almost as though it had been buried in time itself, symbols wink from its depths, and a ring, a sparkling ring of golden color, is visible. Within the ring are more rings, a spiral of silver, almost blinding silver that, the more its looked at, the more dizzying the swirls become, until it looks like an eternal whirlpool is ready to jump from the shell. Within and without the whirl can be seen shadows, people, and strange monsters, locked into combat. Odd shapes twisting beneath the veil of sand dance beneath the shadows. Still, the inside of the ring remains clear, almost like a liquid silver road. The spiral inside the ring stretches into the distance.
In the galleries, K'nder takes Shanlee's hand. "Yes, you're a little strange, but it only makes you more fun to talk to. :) Did you see that last egg?" In the galleries, "I've never xseen such dark eggs, espcially all the blacks." Dassah admits to Imariel, sidling closer. "But they have a certian prettiness to them, though that first was kind of, umm, sticky-looking. Have you never seen dragon eggs before?" In the galleries, Tavrie sucks at her hair and then, looking a little sheepish, tucks it behind her ears. "Two more, I'd wager," she offers out to no one in particular and everyone all at the same time. In the galleries, Shanlee nods, "Each time a new one is laid, I think I like that one the most,.....and then there's another...like this one" and she turns to Suraiya, giving her a grin "I like the dark swirly colours" she shrugs. Giggling at Tavrie she answers "What would you wager?" In the galleries, Wilf replies still tottally entranced by the eggs, "no I haven't been here long, arrived after the mating flight, and yes I'll certainly be here for the hatching." Hehas big grin on his face having never before witnessed such an event. In the galleries, "There," Kasiese points, and two seconds later Artlan is standing alone, watching his charge weave and excuse her way to a seat near Dassah and Shanlee, where she sits with a sigh and lean forward to say, "How many have we missed? Not too much, I hope?" As an afterthought, the young healer adds, "Oh, and hello, Dassah, Shanlee..." Trailing off, Kasi suffices with a vague wave of greeting to those she doesn't recognize, curious acknowledgement at best. Pride suffuses R'hin's features, pale eyes glittering with delight as he touches fingers to Josilina's elbow briefly, the slight squeeze of fingers enough to telegraph excitement. "Perhaps it's Leiventh's influence," he says, only half facetious. "At least they won't be difficult to keep heated - darker colors seem to retain it better." Leiventh seems to be settling down a little, less pacing, though no less watchful, the cinnamon-bronze rumbling in a low tone, no less pleased than his rider. In the galleries, Nudging Shanlee's arm, he grins down at her. "You never know how many eggs a gold is going to clutch. But I agree, the dark colors are quite striking." In the galleries, Tavrie turns to look at Shanlee and grins, seeming pleased to have come out of her haze and noticed a truly familiar face. "Hrm, let's see. I don't have much...but I'd wager my new cloak," she states, still looking thoughtful as she appears to be running through a list in her mind. Tavrie doesn't seem to come up with much and offers Shanlee a goofy grin and a helpless shrug. Fatigue has begun to slow the clutching gold down, and Lhiannonth's steps take on a shuffling quality, though she's careful to avoid disturbing any of the eggs already out there. Stepping around one of the darker eggs she deposits a green-flecked egg.
Darkness warps its frigid fingers around this egg, giving it a cold, harsh appearance which is vastly different from the actual sand-warmed surface of the shell. From apex to carefully planted bottom, gloom formed by fathomless blues and greens so dark that they almost appear black when shadowed has been crisscrossed and woven together to form a picture of hectic but almost eerie beauty. The knotted mess covering the rough, slightly grainy surface is patched with an occasional colorless maw that pierces the already dark and twining form like openings in a labyrinth. Flecks of pale green stand out garishly here and there along the ovoid, rare flashes of color that add a look of ominous intelligence to the egg, as if it could survey its surroundings. In the galleries, Shanlee says "Hey Kasiese, glad you could make it" Shanlee greets and turning to Wilf "Well at least you're not alone, the biggest egg I've seen is a wherry egg". Tavrie's comment has her chuckling "How about breakfast for two mornings?"" In the galleries, A smile is given from Dassah to Kasiese. "Kasiese, hello. Not seen you in quite a few days now, how are you doing." She looks back out to the eggs, shaking her head a little. "The rate she is going, it will be a good sized clutch, I think." In the galleries, Suraiya bobs her head at Shanlee's comment. "Seems there are a lot of dark-shelled eggs in some of the 'Reaches clutches and others as well, as far as I've seen. Though I prefer the shiny and bright colored ones, they're all great." Everyone really does have a preference. Wilf is given another wide-grin, and she assures him, "You'll have a great time, I'm sure. Big feast afterwards, which is a plus to the event." In the galleries, Tavrie grins and nods to Shanlee. "Deal!" she says with a grin. "How many are you betting? Are we going for whether only I'm right, or which of us is closest to our guess?" the nanny queries with interest. "Right, because Lhiannonth wasn't invovled at all," Josilina retorts, but with a chuckle, still grinning. "Not many more," she remarks, tracking the slimming and tiring gold. "That's - ten? Ten. I guess I missed my bet." A little teasingly, "Might make fifteen yet." Lhiannonth shifts her weight restlessly, hovering over a natural indentation in the sands. Contractions ripple across her hide but it's a few moments of strained wait before the appearance of a petite, red egg. She gives it a little nudge before leaving it to Leiventh's ministrations, retreating to the fringes of the clutch, lying down, and closing her eyes. That, it seems, is that.
This egg is not one to draw the eye but it is handsome in its own subtle way, being petite, round and richly shaded. Its surface is tinted a crimson deep enough to conjure thoughts of blood or fine vintages of wine, ringed with swirls of sinister red-black. A single unwinking eye mars one side of the little sphere, a circle of diluted cerise that creates the optical illusion that a light is focused on the shell from the inside.
"Eleven," Josilina agrees. "Definitely good, for this time of Turn. Or, Interval." Lhiannonth shifts as Leiventh settles down, crooning towards him before settling into a doze. Jos waits a beat, looking over the eggs, before suggesting, "Want to go get a drink or something? Or, if not, want me to bring you anything?" In the galleries, Kasiese shrugs halfway, scooting in her seat to allow Artlan his seat, when he finally comes. "Busy, I guess -- one of the women has a terrible cough; it's got us slightly worried." Her grimace makes way to a tilted head and bemused expression for the newest addition to the hatching sands. "I like it," she finally decides, then, back to her work, says, "Artlan and I have been running around all day like wherries." In the galleries, Suraiya sits up straight, shaking her hand from the feeling of the weight of her head pressing into it. She sighs and shrugs, seeing that the gold has finished with her clutch. "If only she had one more in her. Ah well. In the galleries, Suraiya sits up straight, shaking her hand from the feeling of the weight of her head pressing into it. She sighs and shrugs, seeing that the gold has finished with her clutch. "If only she had one more in her. Ah well." She turns to those around her with a farewell wave before strolling out. In the galleries, The entire hatching went by all too swiftly for Imariel. It seems like it had only begun when it ended, and the last egg is buried in the golden sand. Suddenly she's breaking out in a smile. "Eleven eggs," she murmurs. "Eleven new dragons." This seems to please the girl greatly, and she resists the urge to clap her hands in pleasure. "And I got to see it," is added to herself. She looks over at Dassah and the others she knows, her face wreathed in smiles. "I can't wait for the hatching!" "A drink sounds lovely," R'hin declares. "And, if I don't miss my guess, there's probably a celebratory feast in the making?" Pale eyes glitter with amusement as he mock-scolds, "And, you'll be doing no waiting on me, Weyrwoman. Lhiannonth produced a fine clutch." He offers his arm to Josilina, gentlemanlike. In the galleries, Suraiya walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the entrance to the bowl. In the galleries, Dassah looks back to Imariel with a grin, "Not seen one of those, either? It's an experience not to be missed!" She stands, stretching. "But, it's much too hot in here for me, so I think I will be running along. Imariel, I did stop by the kitchens and tried to help, but I fear I did more damage than good. The weyrleader even got to see me cut myself." In the galleries, K'nder walks down a short flight of steps and heads out through the entrance to the bowl. Josilina strolls into the dark passageway. Josilina has left. You stride into the dark passageway. You wander down the flight of steps, towards the eastern bowl. Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr(#840RJs) Standing on the eastern side of the bowl, you realize why this is one of the most striking Weyrs on Pern. Arrayed around the north rim of the bowl are the Seven Spindles: high crownlike points formed of old volcano flows which were eroded to sharp spikes. The bowl itself is a rough ovoid shape, with a large lake taking up a good portion of the southeastern part. The bowl seems to slant down to the lake shore, and the soil becomes a little looser in that direction. From the east, the slight aroma of herdbeast and wherry hide rises from the feeding grounds. The northeast section of the bowl is full of activity: training of dragons both young and old goes on in a large clearing near the entrance to the weyrling barracks and dragon infirmary. Several small boulders dot the area to the north, forming a winding path to the ledges leading into the weyrleaders' quarters. The afternoon is clear, and the sun shines with a few small clouds floating past. There seems to be a light breeze and the summer air feels stiflingly hot. Contents: Josilina Maxeoth Obvious exits: Weyrleader Ledges Western Bowl Floor Dragon Infirmary Candidate Barracks Weyrling Training Room Feeding Grounds Lake Shore Imariel heads over from the western side of the bowl. Imariel has arrived. R'hin's grinning as he escorts Josilina with the gliding expertise of long practice. "Well, a favor I can accept, then," he concedes. "And I'm glad you think Leiventh had something to do with it," he adds, teasing, as he sets an easy pace across the bowl, nodding to a few people they pass. Imariel emerges from the hatching grounds, fanning her face as she moves toward across the bowl toward the living cavern. She still seems to be exhibiting a little awe at the sight she just witnessed, but waves to a few people she recognizes. As she nears the 'leaders, she offers a nod of her head, and a smile. "Congratulations, Weyrleader, Weyrwoman," she says, pausing her steps for a moment near the couple. "You were very right, Weyrleader, it was something wonderful to see. Eleven eggs!" This seems to please the girl a great deal. "Please convey my greetings to Lhiannonth and Leiventh," she adds as she continues on her way. Josilina walks along with R'hin, a little less elgantly graceful but holding her own. "I try to give credit where it's due." She gives out nods of her own, and the occassional verbal greeting. Imariel's words prompt a smile, "Thank you! We will, thanks for coming to see them." Her response is a little rattled off, as she continues towards the caverns. Josilina strides towards the western side of the bowl. Josilina has left. R'hin chuckles quietly at Josilina's comment, lips twitching as he refrains from any further comment. An easy grin is offered to Imariel as the girl approaches them. "Thank you, Imariel," he echoes the Weyrwoman, "And we'll pass on your greetings. Are you coming to have some food?" he half invites, as he strides along with Josilina towards the caverns. You go towards the western side of the bowl. You walk into the tunnel to the living cavern. Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#1000RJs) The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. Piles of summer fruit give off a shimmer of color and a waft of sweet aromas from their cradling bowls. Hanging sheaves of herbs and spices rustle in the breeze, adding their fragrance as well. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. Drudges move briskly about the room, unlidding plentiful glow baskets to help banish the thickening dusk. The clatter of pots and pans signal the approaching evening meal. Contents: Josilina Kasiese Ayana Jemah Large Ale Cask Tray of Bubblies(#6808V$) Firelizard Perch(#5030Jae$) Obvious exits: Kitchen Bowl Lower Caverns Ayana turns away from the table just in time to get hit with the water, nearly jumping back from the fuming young woman. Looking taken aback as the grumbling, "I take it someone has angered you," she states in mild amusement to Kasiese, wry as she looks for a table. Imariel meanders into the cavern from the lower caverns. Imariel has arrived. Imariel slips into the living cavern not too long behind the Weyrleaders, going immediately to see if there's anything she needs to do to help with serving. But, for once, she's shooed out of the kitchens and back out to enjoy herself. She heads immediately to the serving tables, grabbing a plate and filling it with food, and to the drinks table to partake of some cider. Thus armed, she heads to a table, finding an empty chair and sitting down to eat. For some reason, the clutching left her famished. Kasiese's expression shifts from anger quickly, lingering somewhere between shock and apology as she says, "I .. erm, I didn't mean to," and she waves her hand absently towards the table the tray is on, her mouth half-frowned. Dropping the hand to her side, she thinks about Ayana's words before deciding, "Yes, someone did." Her eyebrows furrow downwards, nearly meeting over the bridge of her nose, and after a moment of pondering it seems she's made some sort of decision. "It's not that serious," she says. "I just hate missing things; I'm always late, but never as late as just a moment ago; now the eggs are buried and I can't really see them." Another frown, this one more contemplative, before, "It's silly, really." "You want to stake out a seat and I'll grab drinks?" Josilina offers as she and R'hin enter the cavern. "If you want, I mean. Or there's always mingling, and things like that." She remarks, nodding again here and there, glancing about the room. "Ahh, roasted ovine. My favorite." R'hin delights as he breathes in, almost as if he'd arranged it himself. Given how much time he spends in the kitchen, it's probably not inconceivable. He grins at Josilina, "You read my mind. See if there's any nice white?" he asks, hopefully. We can-- mingle later." Though he doesn't sounds particularly enthused. "Ah, I see some free seats." With a brief touch of his hand, he pulls Josilina's hand from his arm, and with a wink, he quickly dodges between tables, headed for the table Imariel's claimed. "It's alright," Ayana is quick to say to Kasiese, setting the plate down to pat at the drops of water. "I can relate, there." She sends a grin to her before the Weyrleaders' arrival catches her attention. Hazel eyes seeming to linger on one of them, "Mybe you'll be able to see them again later? The clutch, I mean," she offers to Kasiese in the meantime as she picks up her plate again. Roasted ovine, indeed, and it's so very tasty, too. Succulent, tender, and served with a variety of vegetables and side dishes to tempt the appetite. Doesn't take much to tempt Immie's appetite tonight, either, and she has a plate full to sustain her. The sauces are delectable, and it's nice to just sit down and eat, rather than clear tables or serve. She's busily eating when she finally glances up to see the Weyrleader heading in her direction, and offers a nod of her head and a smile to R'hin. "Evening again, sir," she says, her voice still filled with a hint of awe at what she witnessed. "Can I fetch you something to eat or drink?" is offered as she sets her fork aside.l Charis strides in from the tunnel to the bowl. Charis has arrived. Balinne meanders into the cavern from the lower caverns. Balinne has arrived. "I'll look," Josilina says, branching off to go towards the food and drink table. She lingers there, chatting with a few people, before getting in the actual line. R'hin slides into the seat next to Imariel, murmuring, "I see your hard work in the kitchen paid off," he nods towards the plate in front of her with a grin. "Ah, no, don't be silly," he waves her offer off. "Josilina's grabbing some drinks, and you're in the middle of a meal." He casts a glance over his shoulder, locating the Weyrwoman, unsurprised that she's been caught up in a friendly discussion, lips curving upwards. "Now the fun part begins," he says, as he turns back. "Candidates everywhere." It's hard to tell if he's being facetious with that statement or not. "Well, it's still no excuse," Kasiese corrects. "I'm not that rude," she establishes, "really." She reaches for the ovine and starts piling the plate with it, choice pieces here, not-so-choice here. One can probably guess which side's for her. The way to a man's heart. "I guess I figured I'd see the clutching while I'm here -- may not get another chance." Ayana's comment yields only a shrug from the healer, who sets the plate on the nearby tray, picks another, and starts on the other selections with only the comment, "Maybe." Someone must have told Balinne that a party was going on. Why else would the Istan pop over to High Reaches Weyr? Just in time? Although, she does look just a tad surprised to see the large gathering of people in the Living Caverns. "Um..." she says intelligently. Snagging the arm of someone passing, she whispers something hastily but gets only a confused and wari look in return. With food and drink in hand, Ayana grins to Kasiese's words, "Didn't say you were," she returns in open amusement, "but don't worry about it." She turns and walks by Balinne when she arrives, giving the girl a surprised look before moving to stand near R'hin. Hearing his last comment, "R'hin, looking forward to searching candidates?" she asks in a mocking shock before giving him a wink in greeting. Josilina makes her way through the line, collecting a bottle, two glasses, and a plate. As she heads back towards the tables she nods to those entering, and noting the Istan knot she calls to Balinne, "'Reaches duties to Ista! Welcome!" Charis strides outside to the bowl. Charis has left. Balinne lets the confused resident go, snorting as the girl skitters off into the crowd. "Ah! Ista's Duties! What's the event?" she asks Josilina, still somewhat puzzled. "Seems a tad more crowded than the normal evening dinner crowd." Ayana has not gone unnoticed, but as the brownrider is occupied, Balinne will just stand by the door like an idiot. "Are you scaring our residents?" Josilina asks Balinne with a grin. She seems good natured about it, at least. "Yes, well, clutching just happened," pride is evident in her tone. "So I think that qualifies - put our poor Bakers on the spot, though. You're welcome to join - grab a plate, a seat, what have you. What brings you up this way?" Imariel nods to R'hin, her eyes sparkling. "I didn't do all that much, but do save room for dessert. I did help with that," she says, a touch of pride in her voice. "Candidates -- for Impression, right, sir?" she adds, looking a little thoughtful. She pauses to take a few more bites of her meal, nodding. "Will there only be eleven Searched, then? Or more, so the dragons have a choice?" When Ayana stops by the table to ask her own question of the Weyrleader, Immie falls politely quiet, taking a sip of her cider, and listening to the conversation. She learns more by listening, sometimes, than by making her own inquiries. "Ah," R'hin's interested, judging by the twitch of brows. "Do I get any hints about dessert?" Imariel's query earns an easy nod, "Candidates, and shortly eleven weyrlings. Usually there's roughly twice as many searched as there are eggs, so roughly twenty-two. I guess it depends what the dragons find." He half turns as he hears a familiar voice, brow furrowing momentarily before he sees her. "Aya," he greets, with a smile. "Searching-- oh, no. Leiventh isn't a search dragon," he says, blithely, "Though I might go out with a couple of the wings, just for interest's sake." It's probably more than casual interest, given the way he grins as he says it. Balinne shakes her head, looking only a tad guilty. "Not intentionally, at least," she defends, a wry twist to her smile. "I was here to speak with another wingsecond, but... I've forgotten his name. It's not important. I'd much rather eat!" She grins, a silent laught towards herself, and bobs her head once more at Weyrwoman. "Congradulations then! A clutch is always exciting." Ayana adds a belated "Igen's duties to the Reaches," to Josilina when she talks to Balinne, then motions the Istan rider over with a grin. "Come on over, stranger," she says with a smile to her. "It's been a long time since I've seen you about, Bali." She turns at Imariel's words, giving her a nod in greeting before her smile turns wry for R'hin. "Interest's sake," she echoes his words before chuckling. "I suppose so." A beat. "May I join? And, might I add, congrats on the clutch. Leiventh must be proud." "Thank you," Josilina grins, "Well you're welcome to join us, or them, or whoever." She gestures a little vaguely, hands still full. "I'm Josilina, by the way - Reaches' duties to Igen." She responds to Ayana, somewhat automatically. She heads that way herself, setting the glasses, bottle, and plate - filled with bits of this and that - on the table. "If I'd known you'd collected a crowd, I'd have brought more cups," she remarks. "I think it's white. I wasn't sure. Hello again," that to Imariel. Kasiese fills second plate, then third, and then it's to the bowls; the tasks all seem to go quicker when she's not discussing the specifics of things -- the food done and balanced on the tray, Kasiese ducks by and away, back to work, presumably. Kasiese wanders through the archway, into the lower caverns. Kasiese has left. Balinne grins, and meanders Ayana's way only a step behind Josilina. "Balinne, wingsecond of Timor Wing," she responds, her title following without thought. She rolls her eyes, waves at Ayana, and plops herself happily into a seat. "Ayana! What're you doing here?" she teases. "Given up the sandy life for the mountains?" "Let's just say dessert has something to do with an over-abundance of cherries the kitchen came across, sir," Imariel replies, chuckling softly. "It's one of my mother's best recipes, but it's very rich. My father said he proposed to Mother after eating it." She listens closely to the answer given for her question, and more so as R'hin explains about Leiventh. "So, not all dragons go on Search?" she inquires thoughtfully. She toys with her glass of cider, expression curious. "I'm sorry to ask so many questions, but I know so little about weyrlife, except that I'm really enjoying learning so many new things." She does acknowledge Ayana's nod with one of her own, adding a smile and "Hello," for the Weyrwoman. There's glances given to the others around the table, and then it's back to eating, giving everyone else a chance to talk. "Not all dragons search. Some have the affinity for it," R'hin confirms, before he grins at Ayana, "Please do," he invites easily, "And, of course Leiventh's proud. You'd think -he- laid the clutch." That's said in a low voice, but Josilina might hear as he smiles to the Weyrwoman, "Saved you a seat," the bronzerider remarks with a grin to Josilina at her comment, nodding to the seat next to him, half rising as if to help her with the various cutlery. "And you -think- it's white?" he asks with alarm, eyeing the bottle critically. Over his shoulder, he notes Ayana greeting Balinne, and adds easily, "If it isn't Balinne of Ista. Welcome." Ayana laughs at Balinne's words, rolling her eyes, "No more than you being holed up on that Istan island of yours," she teases her friend back with a raised brow. "How have you been? Me, I've been well." She takes the a seat on the other side of R'hin, giving his words an amused shake of her head. "Don't they usually think that way, though?" she muses with a chuckle. "I know N'ane said as much with Ystofith and the clutch back in Igen." The talk of dragons searching gets the added input of "Ky has an affinity for it, which was something I didn't expect. That brown drove me nuts during those times Igen needed candidates." She begins to eat then, adding to Imariel, "Oh, I'm Ayana, rider of Kyreth. Well met." Balinne grins and just shakes her head at R'hin. "My my, R'hin. Gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, hm? Weyrleader? /Must/ be some mistake." She reaches over and helps herself to a glass of wine. Or something she hopes is wine, and swishes it. She shakes her had and tuts only one more towards R'hin before nodding at Ayana. "Been busy," she adds a tad defensively. "Organizing drills, getting sweeps set up... just because Thread is gone doesn't mean we get to slack." She shifts in her seat, and the glass is returned without even a sip. One hands goes to her temple, and she sighs. "I need to go. I'm very sorry." She does manage a smile towards Josilina, but is already getting out of her chair. She murmers something towards Ayana before heading for the door. "Mm, cherries," Josilina grins. "Your mother works in the kitchen?" She takes the seat with a quiet "thanks," before chipping in, "Chromatics tend to have the affinity more, especially blues. That's what they say, anyway. Most colors /can/, though." She nudges the bottle in R'hin's direction, "Think. Could be green." So casual and unconcerned. "It was crowded, and I've no attention for wine anyway." Balinne goes home. Balinne has left. Charis strolls in from the tunnel to the bowl. Charis has arrived. A low chuckle from R'hin answers Balinne's comment, though he doesn't say anything to the Istan greenrider as she quickly departs. "Jos, you're killing me," he groans, reaching for the bottle and examining the label, before he exhales in relief. "White. Lucky," he mock-scolds, setting about opening it before filling the glasses. He smoothly picks up the thread of conversation about search, adding, "I'm hoping J'mian's blue has an affinity. I'll be putting him in one of the first search wings out. Mm. Kyreth has an affinity? Maybe because he travels a lot?" he suggests, pausing halfway to reach for his glass. Charis steps into the living cavern, straightening out her tunic and smoothing it over of the wrinkles. She steps away from the door so other can come in and out before moving over to the serving tables. Not many familiar faces, but she nods and smiles to those she passes by. "No, m'am, Mother is a cook down in High Reaches Hold," Imariel replies. "My Aunt Sarie works in the kitchens here, and I was asked here to help while one of her helpers has a baby," she offers, paying close attention to the Weyrwoman's answer regarding Search dragons. "I see. That's very interesting," and it does sound as if the girl finds the subject intriguing. "Very curious, too. I'd've thought the golds would be involved, since they're the ones who bear the young. Liannonth looked so beautiful on the sands. I've never seen anything quite so wonderful." All the enthusiasm of youth shining in her face as the bottle does turn out to be white after all. "Is there much of a difference between white wine and red? I've not tried either since I was little, and found the taste a bit bitter." Ayana tosses over a look of teasing shock to the greenrider, "As if I accused you of slacking, fair Bali," she says in mock hurt tones. "Neither was I. Was in the area, doing a delivery before Ky told me there was a clutching going on here." The shock fades quickly with a smile as she picks up the conversation again, nodding to Josilina, "Congrats to you and Lhiannoth as well," she says amiably enough. She looks at the white wine being passed with interest before answering R'hin with "Yeah, I think it's because he travels so," she muses thoughtfully. "But, if that's the case, then it's more likely my fault for taking him about in the first place. He seem pretty proud about it, too." She listens raptly to Imariel's story, her interest apparent even when she says nothing. When Balinne heads out the cavern with a murmur to her, her eyes widen slightly and just watches the greenrider depart. "Be a little more dramatic about it, R'hin, really," Josilina rolls her eyes but smiles, snagging the second glass. "Any reason he'll be in the first? I mean, if there's no proven affinity?" She wonders. "Ooh, Sarie, I think I've met her a time or two," she nods. "Nah, golds don't Search, as a rule. They just make the eggs and all. The clutchmother's stuck on the sands, anyway." The praise for Lhiannonth prompts a grin, "And she'd say thank you, if she were awake. Are you going to be up here much longer?" - "Thank you," to Ayana. R'hin takes an experimental sip of the white, seemingly approving, if the pleased nod he gives is any indication. "Don't mock the value of a good white, Weyrwoman," he says, taking the scolding with good natured smile. "Whites tend to be sweeter - reds are heavier," he answers Imariel. "You should taste test down at the Winecraft hall in Benden some time. You'll learn a lot. It's a dangerous place for me to go, though." He reaches for a slice of the ovine off the plate Josilina brought, rolling it up and chewing it together. A purse of lips is brief, before he answers Josilina, "J'mian seemed to think he was showing interest in some of the younger weyrchildren. Of course, it could just be J'mian being J'mian, but what can it hurt?" Charis looks over the serving table, picking food from several different trays before turning around to find a place to sit in the crowded room. She doesn't recognize anyone so she just makes her way over to a semi empty one. She does pause though when she comes near Josilina and waits for a pause, "Congratulations Ma'am to you and Lhiannonth. A beautiful clutch." She offers a smile and then continues on to find a seat. Imariel nods at the explanation she's given by the Weyrwoman, and positively beams when it seems Josilina knows her aunt. "I hope so," she replies at the inquiry of how long she'll be at the weyr. "I'd like to see the hatching, but I'm not certain how long before Analee will be back. Aunt Sarie says I can stay as long as I wish, if the Headwoman agrees." She picks up a piece of bread, sopping sauce from the remains of the meat. "There's so much work, I can't imagine she'd turn away another pair of willing hands." She then turns to R'hin. "Ah, I see, sir. Benden? That's a long way from here, isn't it?" She seems to ponder this a bit, then adds. "Perhaps someday I'll have the opportunity to visit there, but probably not anytime soon. It was hard enough to get Father to agree to let me come here." With the talk of wine going about, "I've never even had the white before," Ayana notes to those at the table as she looks at the bottle. "Is it really sweeter? Hm, maybe I should go by the winecraft sometime myself." With the food on her plate finished, she pushes it from her before catching Charis walking by, giving her a grin and nod in greeting. For now, she picks up her glass of red, taking a thoughtful sip and seems to not miss any of the conversation going about. "I would never," Josilina says with mock-solemnity. "The Tillek's wine stuff is closer, though," she notes. "Than Benden, that is." She gives a short nod, taking a slice of cheese from the plate, "Makes sense, then. And certainly can't hurt - though by tradition, with a clutch so small, we won't have to go out of the Weyr much. But then, who likes tradition anyhow?" She's even more cheerful than usual, thanks to the day's events. "Thank you - and she'd thank you too, if she were awake. Join us?" She invites Charis. "Well, even if you go back, you're just at the Hold, right Imariel? So you could make it for the Hatching without too much trouble." Charis blinks and nods her head slowly to the Weyrwoman, "Thank you Weyrwoman." She catches Ayana's eye and offers a small smile and nod as well, "Beastcrafts duties." she offers to those around her before she pushes out an empty chair and settling her food item You stride through the archway, into the lower caverns. |
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