Difference between revisions of "Logs:Iovniath and Cadejoth's Second Clutch Hatches"

The Elegant Figure Eight Egg is not content with a mere shiver or shudder like some eggs; its first movement is a twisting rotation in place, exactly a half a turn, no more and no less, before it settles down into stillness again. The Morning After Egg teeters warily, more as though it's attempting to work out how to move without disrupting anything than really appearing as though hatching is in any way imminent. Slow-- slow is /definitely/ the key here, that single wobble resolving into silent stillness once more. Can't rush these things. It's probably too soon to move, anyway.

Leova's crouched not far off from the eggs, tracking their state of readiness. "Couple more at level three," she calls back over her shoulder towards Meara after the most recent activity, and then backs away slowly, as though one might roll over and atop her at any moment. It /could/.

"Time, then," says Meara-- and even she sounds excited. "Better hope those candidates are on their way in, else we'll have some unhappy hatchlings." Her gaze tracks towards the entrance to the grounds, then wanders back to the eggs, appraising.

K'del is barely able to constrain his excitement, bobbing up and down on his heels as he moves to join Tiriana, Iovniath and Cadejoth on the sands. The bronze's hum is even more exuberant: echoing through the cavern as he trumpets in his delight. "Yes, yes, they're /hatching/," says K'del, grinning, and putting one hand on his lifemate's forelimb.

A minty green head pokes free from a small hole within the With The Candlestick Egg, followed rapidly by the rest of her. Once entirely detangled from her former home, she launches herself into the fray, inspecting one candidate after another, then moving on again. With a trail of disappointment left in her wake, she finally finds what she's after in the form of a gangly girl from the lower caverns - and the very first Impression is made.

"You know it," Leova's got to agree. Her gaze slips briefly towards so-excited weyrleader over there, and the larger pair beyond, before she takes another step back. "So long as one doesn't go after Mil... /shells/." Off she strides, seeking to intercept the newly-Impressed green-and-lifemate and take them /out/.

Taikrin is walking as close to Saliqa as she can manage without being actually on /top/ of the other girl. Nervousness wars with dismay on pale features already shiny with sweat-- and she's barely stepped onto the sands. "S'gonna be okay," she murmurs unconvincingly. "Y'r gonna do fine, I know it."

Meara looks amused, bounding on unrestrained energy, as that green Impresses no sooner than there are candidates on the sand for her to pick from. /She/ casts a glance at the Weyrleaders, bobbing her head towards them, then turns her attention back to the eggs: which one, then, will be next?

After resting a few moments, the Elegant Figure Eight Egg tilts, rolls in a stately arabesque across the hot sands. When it comes to rest, it spins another quarter-turn in place, digging itself in snug again. A thin line of a crack is running down the shell, but it does not widen. It's definitely /not/ too soon for some, though: the constant, low-level shuddering performed by the Natural Twenty Egg finally fades away into nothing as pieces begin to break free, followed by the arrival of a tail forcefully pushed straight through. The brown that shakes itself free is almost bronze-sized, though his mahogany-tinted hide is undeniably brown. He finds a High Reaches Hold boy in short order; the boy leads him off with one hand draped possessively over neckridges.

Inviere trails in just about at the end of the line, alone-ish; the space immediately to her left is occupied by a particularly nervous-looking brunette, but to say they're "paired" is... a bit of a misnomer.

Saliqa has, somewhere between the quarters and sands, managed to squirm her fingers within Taikrin's-- which may help with the whole closeness. Her face is near stony, which doesn't let her look nervous, but also blocks her from looking anything happy. "I'm not sure there /is/ much to do," she tries to joke with the girl near her. Other familiar faces are eventually searched for, but the eggs are soon distracting enough.

Silarra quickly makes her way over to Taikrin's other side. Forget whoever she was partnered up with for coming in. "Look a green! Already! They barely got us here." She comments to the two. Her eyes fix on the eggs, trying to keep track of it all.

Shad watches the green that just hatched in awe, then grins over at Ivana. "Good luck." He tells her. And then the brown catches his attention. "Man, this is happening fast."

Teris stands near to a younger girl, her pair for these purposes and while the younger girl tugs uncomfortably at her robe, the blonde does much the same despite her otherwise composed air.

From its new position, the Elegant Figure Eight Egg attempts a few more movements, twists and turns and one extended slide down a small hillock in the sand, all terribly graceful. Then, suddenly, it is wrenched from inside in a single jagged movement that splits the shell open along the previous fault. The brown inside inelegantly demolishes the rest of the egg in the process of getting out.

>---< Frost and Fisticuffs Brown >-------------------------<

He might seem a carving of sleek, varnished ash wood, but no woodcarver would have built a dragon so wide--he has shoulders like a burdenbeast, limbs that will be as big around as the trunks of ancient trees. The muscles are not well defined but obviously present, the enormous padded bulk of his body making an average-sized brown seem behemoth. His hide is pale as blond wood, smooth over the blocky body and haunches, only faint striations of lighter and darker colors running through it like woodgrain. Huge, broad wings become more pallid still, their sails lit with silver frost. A slim trail of white curves over the left wing only, as though a long-faded scar from some unknown injury. Whatever trauma he seems to have endured in the egg, it also seems to have left him without one of his front teeth on the top, the gap obvious whenever he opens his mouth.

>----------------------------------------------------------<

K'del points out the green, and then the brown, to Tiriana, excitedly; even she looks pleased. He takes a long swig from the wineskin he carries, murmuring something up to the exultant Cadejoth.

Oh great, things are already exploding out of the egg. Gustav's face looks less than enthusiastic. His hand holding partner clearly gets tired of dealing with him (and him hitting on her while she's way nervous and looking ready to cry) and ditches him once they reach the sands, shuffling over to another girl. This leaves him pretty much alone and up to his own devices, which take him near Teris. He stands near her and tries to look nonchalent. They're totally friends, right?

Xeoshen minces out onto the sands with his paired up partner, the poor young boy looks a bit nervous to be paired with him, but they're stuck like that for now. He makes his way toward the group, and stops with the other candidates. He blinks at the green who hatches, and impresses. "Shards, that was fast." He says, and looks back to the eggs, in time to see the brown hatch.

Warucori tugs down the side of her robe as she goes, trying to stay close to the healer-candidate that she's latched onto. Though she doesn't know the boy very well...and what does it matter anyway right? She looks towards the familiar faces once she's in a spot around the eggs, murmuring to herself, "I don't know how I can hardly watch it all." She breaths to herself and fights the urge to back-step it right back off the stands as she sees the eggs actually hatching open. "oh!"

It may have been too soon for The Morning After Egg to have moved, as such, but evidently the hatchling within can't wait forever. It /definitely/ just moved a second time. Just a light wobble, barely any bigger than the last one, and equally tentative. As slow as it is, there are definite hairline cracks forming in the apex of its shell: hatching can't be /too/ far off. A crash and a bang send the Yellow Monster Egg rolling splotch over splotch, sending sunny chips of shell scattering to the sand beneath. Despite this impressive first movement, it stills again afterwards, as meekly quiet as any egg could ever be. Go ahead, bet on whether that lasts!

"Good luck t'you too," Ivana says breathlessly to Shad, as the circle of candidates gets wider. She tries to stay with Shad as the crowd of candidates shifts, and apologizes to another candidate for nearly stepping on her foot.

Taikrin isn't having any success with her attempts at nonchalance, though she /is/ trying. "They're comin' so fast an' I forgot what t'think an' I didn't eat all th'meat I should an' /shards/ what're we gonna do?!" A quick glance at Saliqa, and a quicker finger squeeze, before she's back to scanning the rolling eggs and the loose brown. "They're so /big/..."

Teris shakes her head when she notices Gustav getting closer but it must be more of a warning than anything else because she doesn't open her mouth to actually tell him to shove off and leave her alone. Distracted and everything, of course.

Vyshani enters alongside Zarenya, a bundle of barely restrained energy as her steps almost bounce. "Oh, some have hatched already? Can you see, what's going on? Where's Neraya?" Not that any of her questions are anything other than a verbal expression of excitement, as proper forms are met and the pair move to find a place.

Inviere, not near enough to take much notice of the newly hatched brown, just about leaves her Sands partner behind as she takes up a position nearish Saliqa, Taikrin, and their fellows. Uselessly, she beats some sand off her robe.

After making short work of his egg, Frost and Fisticuffs Brown finally turns his whole body to regard the Candidates out there. He stomps his feet, twists his neck almost as though cracking it, and gives all those white-robed creatures a steely-eyed once-over. He gives a throaty trumpet and moves out towards them, surprisingly graceful despite his bulk and infancy.

Brenoran takes his place somewhere in the middle of the other candidates. Sure there was some information on what to do in the previous weeks of candidacy, but then talking beforehand and then actually being out there on the sands with the eggs hatching. "'Luck," he mutters back to whoever's beside him.

Saliqa is having some difficulty keeping up with everything that's going on; her head whips from side to side quite enthusiastically. "What is... over there! What are you-- no, the meat doesn't matter. They said it doesn't matter. I hope it doesn't matter..." She loses confidence as she goes, a last desperate glance letting her find Inviere. Her free hand beckons her closer yet.

Silarra looks out to the dragons. "And they're soo /gooey/." She states looking towards Taikrin and Saliqa. She apparently plans to just insinuate herself in with them. "Big and gooey. Especially that one." She points over to the brown. "K'del said to eat just so we weren't hungry 'cause we wouldn't have time.

/Crack/. It happens so suddenly, in the end, that it seems to leave the hatchling within in a state of confused surprise. The Morning After Egg breaks into two distinct pieces, which promptly fall into shards upon the sand below. The blue within? He blinks, several times, slowly, then takes a hesitant, wobbling step forward. Well. If he's /out/...

>---< Ride The Wave Blue >---------------------------------<

An indigo wave crashes over the craggy ridges of this mid-sized blue, sending tendrils of bluish purple towards the inky depths of his shadowed belly and haunches, where tensing muscles offer flashes of brighter color like cavorting tropical fish. Paler aqua bubbles around the tips of those sharp points as they make their way from his head to the tip of his shorter-than-usual tail; across his wingsails, shades of blue-upon-blue wash from edge to edge, seeming to endlessly shift as he moves, barely constrained by silver-touched pinions. Despite the pointedness of those ridges, he's built to lean lines, light padding softening what might otherwise be sharp edges - a theme carried through to the boneless relaxation that marks the lazy movements of his head, not to mention his languorous gait.

>----------------------------------------------------------<

"Hey, everyone's gooey when they're first born." Shad comments. "And this is happening insanely fast."

Gustav gets closer to the woman who is not so much his friend. And since Teris doesn't throw a punch or really try to get him away from her, he settles there. He casts a glance down at her but doesn't try to generate any sort of small talk between them just yet.

Inviere's attention is briefly captured, then, by that trumpet -- her startled gaze flickers light-fast to the brown and then, disinterested, wanders away again. In traveling, it lands on Saliqa and her hand; something in her face falters. Her fingers twitch at her sides, and she inches a few wary steps closer.

Meara escorts the newest weyrling to the barracks, then makes her way back, crossing arms in front of her as her gaze considers the blue and brown currently wandering the sands. "Solid hatchlings," is her murmured remark.

Warucori's nose crinkles up and she looks towards Silarra and the girls clustered together with longing. She wants to be there. TO be behind them. Hey, that might not be such a bad idea. "Oh, you're right......slippery and sticky and....this really doesn't seem like such a good idea now you know." WHen the blue hatches, all silver and sharp-edged she grits her teeth and takes a few steps towards the familiar faces, leaving her healer-partner to himself. Poor guy.

Teris can just ignore Gustav in that case. All the easier when the younger girl to her other side lifts a hand to take hers. She doesn't say anything to that either, but glances down briefly, hesitantly, before her gaze is back up to watch the hatching dragonets.

Frost and Fisticuffs Brown makes his first attempt at opening up his wings as he nears a cluster of Weyrbred boys, and nearly loses his balance in doing so. One of them snickers nervously and the brown turns almost on heel to go off and examine the others. After that, his interest shifts to a couple of very girly girls, and he barrels at them, a stampede of heavy steps. They scatter; he dismisses them with a huff of breath and moves on.

Zarenya sideglances over at the robe of bounciness that is Vyshani and stares at her a long few seconds, but deciding to humor her, she points to.. some random person. "Over, uh. There! That's her, isn't it? The one with the big rump? No, wait. Goob-Babria or whater her name is." However, it's the trumpeting and the other commotions that make the convict jump and whip her head back around to eye the hatchlings warily. "Oh, oh, oh. They're coming over."

A quiver from the Yellow Monster Egg sets it to shifting sand once more, more flakes of yellow sailing free as the tip of a talon pokes out. The egg shudders and tips, more cracks beginning to appear, though the hatchling within remains trapped for at least a little while longer. And, given that displeased noise that's not quite a warble... it's not happy. Better Take A Drink Egg starts slow, an amusing pivot within the small wallow in which it is entrenched. A twitch here, a twitch there, then it falls dormant once more, no doubt waiting for the appropriate time to take the next dri... er... move.

Taikrin doesn't turn to acknowledge Silarra-- her gaze is focused almost exclusively now on the newly-hatched blue and browns -- but her comment might indeed be directed towards her. "Didn't know they came out messy like that..." She pulls herself closer towards Saliqa, if it's even possible. "I ain't-- I dunno. S'gonna be okay. Y'gotta have one out here, just gotta stay alive t'get there. But-- shells, lookit him. That brown. Be ready t'run if he comes over here."

Xeoshen raises an eyebrow at the trumpet from the brown. "He looks like a quick one." He remarks to whoevers around him. "A bit of a loud one too." He says. The boy next to him fidgets as he watches the dragons, trying to not look at his 'partner'. Obviously Xeo wasn't his first choice in partners. Xeoshen turns at the sound of cracking, and notes the blue as well. "Shards, this is moving fast." He mutters, and turns as the brown barrel;s into a group. "Have ta watch that one."

Saliqa is nodding to something-- what, who knows; possibly, she's acknowledging Silarra's new inclusion in their close finger-knitted group. Something reminds her to slip up onto her toes and scout around until she has pegged Gustav's location. Back to Inviere, lightning fast. This time the beckoning is accompanied with: "Come on, then!" Then it becomes too difficult to ignore that hatchlings are getting closer, and Taikrin. "What-- run?"

Heeeeey man, what's that over there? The Ride The Wave blue teeters a little, steps uncertain and pauses to get his balance, like a surfer finding the groove at the crest of a wave. The tide's moving on though and so is the hatchling, tail twitching back and forth a little as he noses at another egg, mesmerized for a few moments by the brightly colored patterns on the shell. There's /movement/ though, over there. Heeeey, what's all that? /Who/ are they?

Inviere looks as if she might just settle into synchronous orbit somewhere in Saliqa's vicinity, but at the last second, makes a decision: she darts forward and puts her sweaty hand in the Crom girl's. Her eyes are fixed straight ahead, on an interesting patch of air just beyond her nose. "Thanks," she manages eventually. She lifts one foot, puts it back down. Ow ow ow.

Gustav crosses his arms over his chest, a clue to his actual nervousness. The quick movements of that brown across the sands, the whole barreling thing. It doesn't have him looking excited. He tracks its progress with his eyes and he steps back, lips pursed tightly together.

Silarra smirks as the brown makes the girls scatter. "You might need to run, but please don't destroy all our ears with shrieking." Silarra states. "Guess it makes sense. Humans are all icky when they come out, too." Silarra decides, scanning the group to find Gabrion, giving him a smirk across the cluster as she catches him biting his nails.

Shad grins at the blue dragonet and the second brown. "Wow. They're kinda awesome, aren't they?" The comment is mostly intended for himself, rather than something to be answered by someone.

With a final powerful shove, the hatchling within the Yellow Monster Egg tears free, sending large chunks of shell sailing in her wake. /She/ has no time to waste on them: the sands are calling, her wings are flapping, the whole world lies ahead. Now, if only she can stop stepping on her tail!

Vyshani blinks at Ren, "Big ru--" Then she's actually laughing and shaking her head. "No no, Ner's tall and ski-- wait, what? Where?" Up on her toes she goes, as if that will help her see any better between all the white and wobbling and gooey dragonets.

>---< Rambling Brambly Bacchante Green >-------------------<

She's wont to sprawl, the hawk-nosed young green, her long limbs carelessly every-which-way. She also may not seem particularly bright at first, not even physically, with her deep-hooded eyes and her muted coloring that's drab and faded as though from some old stain. Brown, jagged lines slash up her legs like so many thorned brambles, pricking dots of ichor green here and there against the faded background, becoming a tangled thicket across her narrow flanks. They might as well be real, given how ungainly with youth she is, as much an impediment as her already overgrown wingsails: translucent as though with foliage's new growth, a fine-veined net to trap the unwary if only they are strong enough to hold.

>----------------------------------------------------------<

Ivana glances down at the sands; in all this chaos it's the sands that seem to bring her back to calm. She looks up to the stands for a moment, searching for a familiar face, but doesn't find it. Another candidiate bumps *her*, this time, and she turns her attention back to Shad and Xeo's voice nearby. "Just be ready t'move," she calls back.

Cadejoth leans forward to get a better look, his long neck arching over the eggs and sending some of the candidates moving backwards. K'del puts a hand on his side again, and the bronze retracts his head, his hum nonetheless still warm and delighted.

Warucori has to dodge to avoid one of those girly-girls charging at her and her hands reach out to catch her up before she can get run over. "It's...it's...ok. Easy there." She hisses, trying not to fall down herself. Once the girl has hurried on behind her, Cori takes note of the sands again, checking for distance between herself and the stumbling young dragons.

Taikrin nods, curtly, as tension rises in her slight figure. "Yeah. Look how he went after those girls. Y'gotta be careful." A swift glance is directed at Silarra then, eyes faintly narrows. "Ain't funny. Big guy like him could do some damage, iffen he pleased."

When the Frost and Fisticuffs Brown Hatchling rushes at one particular dark-haired former convict, it almost seems a foregone conclusion that she's going to be bowled over. Instead, he slides to a stop just inches from her, wings fanning, and looks up with wide and whirling eyes all for Taikrin.

Impossibly tiny, the cracks that begin to spread across the One Hundred and Eighty Egg aren't even visible until - with an almighty /crack/ - the whole thing collapses in on itself, raining shards down on the burnished bronze within. Intent interest carries him directly towards a group of candidates, where weyrbred Calarid drops to his knees as he wraps strong arms about the narrow creature's body.

Inviere is all grit teeth and narrowed, restless eyes now, with occasional twitches and half-starts when it seems she might need to dodge. "Good luck," she says sideways to Saliqa -- and if there was going to be something else there, it's lost when her neighbor Takrin is claimed. Her eyes widen, and her free hand reaches to push a sweaty bit of hair from their view. "...wow."

Teris tenses somewhat and the girl beside her steps back along with Gustav, loosening her grip on the blonde's hand. Teris doesn't step back, though. She stands where she is and watches as the brown finds who he's looking for before attention is back on everything else.

Ride The Wave Blue tilts his head up, fascinated by the candidates, the flickers of movement from the galleries, but mostly the young people who are nearest by. He pokes his muzzle forward to inhaaaale deeply at the hem of one girl's robe, making her giggle in spite of wrung-together palms. It's on to take a closer look at the pattern twisted leather straps make against skin on one boy's feet and then another and another, each candidate nosed or nudged lightly, examined with a steady azure gaze that as yet, avoids making eye contact.

Gustav's eyebrows lift as the brown slides to a stop in front of Taikrin. Well then. He snorts, but the look on his face isn't altogether surprised looking. There's a sympathetic look to the nervous girl backing away from Teris. "It's alright." He says lightly before looking away again.

Taikrin isn't oblivious to the onrushing brown, though she only catches the end of his rush. "Get ready to-- to--..." Eyes go suddenly wide, and her fingers slacken then slip of of Saliqa's. She's on one knee, suddenly, and there are tears in her eyes she'll never admit to later. "I-- I-- Szadath. Of... of course." A hand reaches out, tentatively, to touch the brown's head. "Eating. Right. Y'must be starvin'..."

Saliqa shows the first traces of a smile when Inviere takes her hand, but attention diverts to what appears to be that same brown hatchling coming exactly for them. "Oh, ru--" Though she detaches from Taikrin's hand in order for them both to haul away, it's clear something else is going on. "Oh." Good thing Inviere's there, because now she /really/ needs a hand to squeeze.

Meara, with an uneven kind of smile, heads across towards Taikrin and her brown as the pair find each other. Eyebrows raised - well, there's not /too/ much judgement here - she gives them a glance up and down before beckoning them onwards. "Food through here, weyrling, for your brown." Okay: /there's/ the grin, here after all. "C'mon with me."

One of the Rambling Brambly Bacchante Green Hatchling's wings hooks on a neckridge, but after the first reflexive tug that yanks a screech from her throat, both sails relinquish large-scale movements in favor of a low, twitchy vibration that picks up the dragons' hum. Her neck stretches back and forth, this way and that way, like a long and particularly loopy vine. Her eyes are red, she's looking and looking, and then she hastens in awkward leaps past a waystation girl and her frie... no. She pauses. Gives the black-haired girl a long stare even as her shoulders twitch and twitch again, but when she gets her wing freed, she leaves too. Heads for another cluster, back in the direction she'd been going. But there are eggs and hatchlings between her and her destination, and she's got to get there /first/.

Better Take A Drink Egg somehow suddenly spins about twice, almost waylaying a fellow egg by bouncing up out of the shallow crater. Whatever is inside obviously is ready to be *outside*, and a drunken twitching takes over the egg in sudden impatient anticipation. It's subtle, at first: a single link in the chain flaking off from the Send Someone Over Egg and dropping to the sand below. Stillness follows, as though nothing happened at all - and then the egg itself begins to shake, just barely, vibrating back and forth and back and forth.

Inviere covers Saliqa's hand with her free one, making a sandwich of her palm and fingers. If she has something else to say, she lets her clammy, ruddy flesh do the talking. Well. That, and the barest smile.

Silarra smirks a smile at the impression beside her. "Didn't need to run after all, did you?" She states with a joking tone. "Congratulations." But then she's looking over towards Saliqa for a just a moment. She starts to offer her hand and then pulls it back looking out towards the dragon eggs.

Better Take A Drink Egg has seen one too many reasons to stay silent for much longer. A tipsy sloshing must be the very innards of the egg breaking loose. Oh, Weyr, if you thought you were safe before, that's obviously not the case: King of Improv Blue Hatchling is on the loose!

>---< King of Improv Blue >--------------------------------<

A spotlight showcases this brilliantly blue dragon, a cobalt cloak of debonair charm draped over a well-built physique. That classic hue colors all his lean lines, hardly changing from tip to tail. His headknobs are blocky and blunt, his face charismatic with only a single shift of color: prussian blue shadowing the tip of his snout, a gentleman's groomed goatee in draconic proportion. Gentleman he is not, however, not with those wickedly sloping neckridges, nor his cocksure tail or rakishly angled wings, their narrow spars edged in powdery pale blue. Broad paws tipped with just as shockingly light talons attempt to ground him, but a jokester's eternal cheer enlivens every movement.

>----------------------------------------------------------<

Xeoshen tenses, ready to get outb of the way of any charging hatchlings, as he keeps an eye on the closest, the brown. When he impresses though, he grins. "Taikrin? Alright Taikrin!" He cheers toward the fellow, well now ex, convict candidate. "Szadath, he looks like an interesting one." He says, moving as the line moves to fill the gaps, his partner moving along with him.

Teris, at least, assumes Gustav is talking to the other girl. That or she doesn't hear him at all as focused as she is on the dragons milling about looking for their lifemate.

Ivana rises up on her toes when the noise level goes up, and sees Taikrin's Impression. She takes a few steps in that direction, head swiveling to make sure she's not in any dangerous path. Xeoshen appears on her left, and she waves. "Doing all right?" she calls.

Despite his continued exploration of the sands, there's no real haste from the Ride the Wave Blue Hatchling, though his eyes betray some agitation, whirling red as candidate after candidate is considered and discarded. Finally, backtracking past some giggling girls from the lower caverns, his stubby tail twitching thoughtfully, he seems to find /something/. He takes a few steps, then a few more, then alters his path entirely for a final time, as he meets for the first time the gaze of his one-and-only: his Shad.

K'del doesn't seem to be able to keep up, his eyes on everything and everyone. "Look!" he says, as the blue Impresses; Taikrin's Impression seems to pass him by entirely, no doubt to sink in later.

Warucori stares from blue to green, "they are so different. I think.....oh, she doesn't look very happy. I don't think. No......" She sees Taikrin leaving the sands and her eyes widen. "He picked her? Ohmygoodness...." her lips twitch up into a smile. "Did you see it?" She's asking the healer lad, but he's too far gone ith panic that he doesn't pay her any mind.

Saliqa delivers in kind to Inviere; though it's hard to find a lot of cheer in the thin, close-mouthed smile that quivers more than it holds. More than the dragons now, she seems to be eyeing that place where Taikrin disappeared when she's not eyeing the stands and all those eyeing back. Somewhere in there, she squares her shoulders almost defensively.

Vyshani is having a time of it. There's just too many directions to look in! Look left, miss what's happening to the right, look right and-- She sidesteps into her fellow. "Oh. Ren. Renrenren!" She aims a tug at the other candidate's arm, staring wide-eyed at the Brambly green. "Oh...." Still wide eyes track the hatchling's progress away, and then she's turning breathlessly to look at the taller girl. "Did you /see/ how /close/ she was!?"

Inviere squeezes hard and then releases one of two hands, though she seems at a loss what to do with that second one now. It flutters at her side, picks at the course fabric of her robe. "They don't... /look/ dangerous," she ventures eventually, though she keeps her attention shifting. You know. Just in case she's wrong.

Shad grins and cheers when Taikrin Impresses. "Way to go!" And then he watches as the one blue works his way from Candidate to Candidate. And then ... "Akuath." Awed, stunned, and totally overwhelmed. He reaches out to touch, hesitantly.

King of Improv Blue gives a stretch, the motion unhurried. It rises from his light talons up through body and wings to flare gooey wingsails in an impressive span. That stage-setting show done, he takes a hopping step forwards, craning his head in obvious bemusement to stare after a too-close candidate who goes flailing backwards. Ha! Ten points for not falling, and /spectacularly/ balanced wobbling.

Xeoshen nods to Ivana. "Alright so far, this is going by so sharding quick though." He says. "Didn't think they'd be so...big." He adds. "How are ya holdin' up?" He asks her, keeping his eyes looking around. "I think that blue impressed...I think."

Akuath nudges his head right into that reaching palm. Yeah man! That's good! He edges closer to /his/ weyrling, leans his side against Shad lightly.

The Rambling Brambly Bacchante Green Hatchling hurries in wobbly fashion, made the more awkward by some of these eggs that are large enough that even she can't quite see over. There's no emergency, right? No siren, unless you count the hum? But she's getting there, /past/ her sire and dam without a look back, /past/ a pair holding hands, a few more standing there, he's somewhere, him and his flyaway hair...

Send Someone Over Egg begins to rattle more rapidly, actively sending sand shifting beneath it as it rolls back and forth upon itself. More pieces begin to flake off, revealing for the first time a window into the egg itself, though as yet, there's nothing to be seen through it. It can't be long now, though, not given the intensity of those rattles. The Gold Egg shifts within the comfortable wallow it is situated in, so carefully placed by Iovniath. It is not the right time for it, either, of course, but the vibration that runs over the bold shell hints at an impatience for such frivolities.

Meara's barely back on the sands, and oh-- there's another one. She makes her way towards Shad and his blue, more visibly pleased, this time, although... "Sh-- dur? Sh'res? Whatever your name is," and she winks at him, though who knows if he's in any state to /catch/ it. "Why don't you and Akuath come with me, for some of that food."

Gustav begins shifting on the sands, tapping one of his sandaled-feet anxiously. The impressions are watched and he manages to keep his distance from anything draconic that might go sniffing at him as it goes by. Then, a thought seems to occur to him and looks up. His eyes scan the galleries overhead and his gaze fixes onto a certain section of seating. A smile twitches his lips and he lifts his hand and waves. Family? Friends? Who knows.

The Send Someone Over Egg all but rolls over itself in a final, hurtling push, as the hatchling within smashes through with a whipping motion stemming from a lengthy tail. The egg shatters in response, the final links of chain abandoned in pieces as the dark, velvety green within hurtles free, all but launching herself out and onto the sands.

>---< Extravagant Action Green >---------------------------<

A combination of powerful haunches and comparatively spindly legs gives this green a peculiarly awkward alignment, though there's no denying the natural grace displayed in the cant of her perfectly wedged head, and the promise of future physical prowess despite her current coltishness. Like a coat of plush velvet, hunter green shades her hide, extending evenly from the wedge of her nose to the narrow tip of her lengthy tail; subtle variations, as though someone has brushed that velvet in the wrong direction, mark paler patches towards the low curve of her belly and around her shapely ankles. Her wings are dainty, and somehow too small for the bulk of her body, though the muscles that connect them to her torso are delineated sharply in testament to the control that she will one day wield with them.

>----------------------------------------------------------<

Zarenya rolls her eyes and gives Vyshani a swat on the arm lightly. "Big rump! The one that wobbles!" She points rudely but eyes the brown that's moving down the way, arching her brows at the sight of it falling to Taikrin. "Well, hell. If that don't.." Her remark is lost when her companion starts trying to yank her arm from its socket , and she has to stare at her and the retreating green. "Eeeeee!" This might be more dismay than anything else. It snuck up on her! "She did! That was /close/." Too close. She also misses the blue's impression in the chaos.

Ivana gets nudged by one of the other redheaded candidates, a girl named Lia. "Did you see? Shad just Impressed." Ivana whips around and stares back where she'd come, then turns to Xeoshen. "Yep, ah walked out with Shad. It's the blue he's with. Ah'm overwhelmed.. watch out! Another egg's shattered.." and she points.

Shad curls his arm over Akuath and gives a more thorough petting. It takes him a minute to realize anyone's talking to him. He blinks at Meara, slightly befuddled. "H'dur, I think. He likes it." Which is enough for Shad. "Yeah. Food is good. C'mon, Akuath." And there goes the goofy, ear-to-ear grin.

Rambling Brambly Bacchante Green Hatchling's eyes whirl faster and faster, redder and redder. In the end it's sudden, the end to her hunt: a swerve with wings akimbo, heedless of those who might be standing around her prey. Him. The slight one, the freckled one. Gabrion. Crouched before him, looking up, that red turns to blue like bloody water into wine: /mine/.

Akuath leaaaaans into H'dur all the more for just a few moments, then looks uuuup at Meara, like he's considering what she's saying then, yeah, okay man! Off he goes, trying to keep step with his weyrling.

Saliqa combines a head-shake with a nod, to try and appease several people's comments, perhaps-- or she's just overwhelmed. Or both. "They're... well, I suppose accidents happen..." She ventures to Inviere before the back of someone leaving has her pointing with that free hand. "Shad! That's Shad. Shad's my friend, oh my." Now that tunnel everyone's leaving through is kind of evil.

Just in time, Leova gets back with the latest pair, and wipes the back of her hand across her sweaty brow for her own glance back at the galleries. But then it's time to give G'brion and his new lifemate their space, just a little space, before herding him and Pterath off the sands.

Warucori actually gets to witness Shad impressing. She claps her hands together and lets out a little hoot for him and the blue before they are lead off the sands. "That was just amazing. Wasn't it?" Less people on the sands now she moves towards Saliqa and Inviere. "DId you see that?" Nevermind that Saliqa is calling out Shad's name.

Silarra straightens up when she sees where that green is headed. "Gabe? Did that green go to Gabe! It did!" Silarra is practically bouncing with a quick look over to the girls near her. "His mom is going to be so pissed!"

Meara heads in from a tunnel off to the side.

Inviere is not, of course, by any means capable of keeping track of every critical moment, though her height gives her some advantage. Saliqa's cry gives her some context and direction, in time to see Shad's -- H'dur's -- retreating back. Picking up on something in Saliqa's voice, she turns back to regard her under crooked brows. "Is that... bad?"

After battering his way free from the What It Takes To Win Egg, a small brown darts across the sands, blatantly ignoring the assembled and eager candidates to positively launch himself at the galleries. In his haste, he tips down the stairs, limbs and wings akimbo, and barely manages to crawl - creeling piteously - the rest of the way towards the one he's after, a man who, until now, served as guard to the convict workers. A buzz raises itself through those nearby, and spreads across the sands, but his choice has undeniably been made. Stunned, but no less overjoyed than any other new weyrling, the man has to mostly carry his lifemate out of the galleries and, presumably, towards the infirmary.

Teris is still watching everything. She even glances over at Gustav to check his expression or something. Only briefly, though. The girl beside her is at least feeling better enough now that she doesn't have to hold onto the blonde's hand and Teris is left to finger at her robe with that hand.

K'del's jaw drops, as the brown heads up into the galleries. He turns to glance at Tiriana, and then back at the sands, wiping at his face with an unhappy hand. "/Shells/. They off to the infirmary? Looks like."

Vyshani can't really be bothered with looking in any other direction, wanting to see just where that viney green ended up. "Oh. A /boy/. She chose a boy." She actually sounds oddly disappointed. But quick enough she's asking Ren, "Have you seen anyone else get chosen?"

Xeoshen blinks. "Shad impresseD? Wow, it's easy ta miss stuff, with all that's goin' on." He says. "I wound up with this guy, I don't think I was his first choice of partners." He remarks, and motions at the jittery boy next to him. The boy though, does manage a nervous wave at Ivana. "Hi." He says. Xeoshen blinks. "Gabrion impressed?" He asked, and then blinks at the brown who charges into galleries. "Don they usually do that?"

She may have launched herself at the sands in the first place, but now that she's out and about, the Extravagant Action Green Hatchling seems more intent on keeping her stride even than fixating on speed. Still, her eyes whirl rapidly red, and there's a tension to her long, coltish limbs that marks her need to find that special someone. Is it this one, the boy with red curls? No-- no, not him at /all/. After stamping her foot unhappily - and sending sand flying into the air, probably by accident as a result - she moves onwards.

Saliqa visibly debates between several possibilities before managing, "No, of course not... this is what's meant for them." Which doesn't make her sound less wary about it. Silarra is eyed next, a good distraction: "You needn't sound so happy about that, you know..."

The Gold Egg hasn't yet found the right spot. It needs to make this a spectacular event, though of course it is the obvious winner; it rolls out half a pace from where it was previously entrenched, and a happy shiver chases over the bright shell. The latticework of colors on the Rainbow Lattice egg shivers, losing some of its cohesion as the egg's occupant stirs, tests out the bounds within which it has been held captive for so long. The egg lists, starts to tilt, then goes still.

King of Improv Blue begins a slow walk throughout the candidates. Not in front of. Not behind. Throughout. Amongst. He weaves between pairs, around knots, coming so close as to brush one poor weyrbred girl's ample... shoulders; then backpedaling so quickly as to nearly plow a different candidate asunder. Er, whoops. A hundred points to the redheaded kid for escaping with no injury! He pauses to rub his bearded jaw against one foreleg, eyeballing the rest of the offerings with obvious thought. Who to pick, who to pick (on).

Warucori follows the brown's progress across the sands and then gasps as he gets up into the stands. "Is that alright? He's going to hurt...ohmygoodness! Is that who I think it is?" SHe puts a fist to her mouth to stop the babbling, watching the unexpected in amazement, forgetting her own danger for the moment.

Inviere doesn't exactly emanate approval, once this news about Gabrion reaches her ears, and she levels a practiced glower at Silarra. "Don't bother," she says to Saliqa, shifting her weight -- again. "You know how she is." The commotion in the galleries /does/ catch her eye, and without having much time to process quite what's happening, she mutters, "Damn, look."

The Gold Egg has had enough! With a loud cracking noise, the egg splits asunder through the force exerted of the occupant. What was within is now out; and the scrawny, bristly creature that is Bloodletter's Bonfire Gold is certainly here to terroriz--er, make an impression.

Silarra doesn't worried about Saliqa's look to her. "Well, she's already pissed at him about this whole standing thing, so might as well take it all the way. So long as I don't get in the way of all Auntie's fury." Her eyes don't even move to the other candidates, just continuing to look out at all the hatchlings and cracking shells. "I like exactly how I am." Gets aimed at Inviere, though.

>---< Bloodletter's Bonfire Gold >-------------------------<

Though tiny, a thin and sinuous beast, there's only fire in this brilliant gold, from the tip of a pointed, scorched muzzle to the whipping tail behind her. Her headknobs steal the yatagan's distinctive recurve, swooping over a crooked outcrop of spiky neckridges that look quite inhospitable to riding, their tips seared as though by living sparks. Along her narrow sides, her color may brighten to treasure's true gold, but those ruddy touches show up again on otherwise white-hot wingspars and tiny paws that always look like they've been playing in blood. Everything about her is sharpened into daggers, from the lethal array of charcoal talons on every foot to the bony wings edged in ichor-green. With a proud arch to her neck and eyes like embers, she's a fearsome creature, less regal queen than simply awful.

>----------------------------------------------------------<

Ivana waves a hand at Xeo's partner, and gives him a comforting wink. It seems to help her too. "A brown? In th'stands?" She turns again to see the guard leave the galleries. "Oh, he's hurt. Hope he'll be all right. Hey.. isn't another one comin' over there?" she points.

Zarenya eyes the green as she chooses the former healer over there and lets her eye by caught by the little brown wandering around toward the galleries, her eyes widening. More with a stare than anything happy for the man. "Uh, yeah," she mutters to Vy. "Our former guard just got a brown. And Taikrin, too."

King of Improv Blue Hatchling is about done with this skit. It was amusing, of course, for the duration. But the show's ending, and he'll not be caught improvising for the credits without a partner! He scrutinizes a nearby arc of girls in white with a regard that's just this side of dubious. Only then he swings about rather suddenly, as if hearing someone calling his name, and he's crossing the sands with purpose, heading for the local joker: a familiar stranger, as it were. At which point the King of Improv declares the dark-headed ex-nanny the *perfect* person for finishing drinking songs with -- and his own.

K'del's silence, his hand tightening on Cadejoth's side, is perhaps the most remarkable part of his reaction to the hatching of High Reaches' newest queen. Cadejoth has no such qualms: he /trumpets/. A smile, after a moment, blossoms for his rider: "She's--" Pause. "/Something/. More like her dad than her mother, though, hm?" That's for Tiriana.

The sandy bronze that rolls out of the Quick, Guess What It Is! Egg spends a few moments examining some beefy convicts - much to the dismay of many of the nearby candidates - before wandering off again. His actual destination is a local boy standing nearby, who spares only a brief look of triumph before he leads his new lifemate off the sands.

Xeoshen nods as he watches the pair in the stands head off. "Hey, I tjhink he was one of the guards." He says. But, his attention has to go back to the sands, and so it does. "I see him." He says to Ivana about the blue, and then looks up as the gold egg hatches next. "Whoa." He takes a step back a moment, before his eyes go back to the blue.

Inviere goes quite still when, tearing her gaze away from the galleries, she spots the newly hatched queen. Without a deity to evoke, she manages only to stare for a long litany of seconds. She drops a wondering gaze down at Saliqa: are you /seeing/ this?

Saliqa looks exactly when she's commanded, which means she's already missed the event everyone was gasping about. She jerks a glance over her shoulder, though, to Warucori, too. "What? What's look and ohmygoodness about it?" Clearly, Silarra gets to just be with that one, as things have become hectic enough. It takes her several more seconds to really register the next stare-worthy moment. Um. That gold.

Teris is losing just a bit of her composure, probably even missing that hand she was holding not so long ago. Browns flinging themselves toward the galleries, dragons hatching and Impressing all over the place. Her attention is drawn toward the clutch's centerpiece when the gold hatches but then she's glancing at Gustav again.

There's a large and shiny chunk of her former egg that catches her attention almost as soon as Bloodletter's Bonfire Gold is out of it. She pounces at it, sitting on it first. Hers. Only then does her attention shift to the Candidates, surveying them all with a proprietary eye. Also hers. The lot of 'em. Eyes whirling like anxious flame, she cannot linger, but she doesn't want to leave the piece of shell behind. She starts to pick it up in her mouth, then spits it out. Distasteful. At last, she leaves it to head off after the attendees clad in white. Perhaps they're even better.

Gustav keeps looking up into the galleries. "Hey, who the fuck is that with my sister?" He suddenly asks out loud. He doesn't sound like he's particularly impressed with this person. "Hey, hey! This is a public event! What do you think you're doing? Get your tong-" He's interrupted in the middle of trying to ruin his family member's good time from the sands by the blue that comes to a stop in front of him. The waving hand freezes in mid-air and he brings back to his face. Pinching the bridge of his nose like he's just been flashed by a bright camera. "Teivoth?" Dumbfounded. He can only stare at the blue in front of him before laughing, a short surprised noise. "You'll eat when I feed you, damnit." He reaches out, almost hesitantly to touch the hatchling. And whenever help arrives, he'll allow himself to be led off the sands. No complaints here.

Meara is the help G'stav is after, arriving a few seconds after his reaction; she looks amused. Again. "He'll eat when he's hungry," is her mock-chide, as she beckons him forward. "C'mon-- G'stav, is it? We'll get you secured away, you and Teivoth."

Extravagant Action Green circles around a trio of girls who look, for a moment, excited and hopeful, under the weight of her gaze. But none of them are for her, it seems, because she angles off into a different direction, this time to consider a mixed group standing nearby. But they aren't right either, and by now, her discontent with this situation is beginning to make itself heard, a wilfully unhappy sound escaping as she sends more sand flying in her continued search.

Teivoth may, in fact, accidentally trip G'stav with his tail after that remark, thank you very much. But hey, check out all the faces on all the girls with that looker sister of his. D'ya see that? Oh wait. Food!

Warucori gives a point towards the stands and flaps her hand, "A little dragon...I didn't hear his name, a brown. He climbed up there. I thought that was only in stories." That, apparently, is where her attention is. Gustav's voice at impressing draws her attention back to the more local sands and she gapes, "oh! Teivoth is a good name. Isn't it?"

Vyshani takes her eyes off what's happening on the Sands long enough to goggle at Zarenya. "Where? When? I missed it!" Pout! Bounce bounce goes the Bollian lass again, looking hither and yon far too fast to actually focus on anything properly. "There was another blue, did you see? And a green. Where did the-- ooh!" Attention arrests and swivels back. Uncertainly, "She's, um. Very uh." A sidelong look at her companion, "She'll be prettier when she grows up, maybe?"

Saliqa points somewhat incredulously to the stands when they're indicated, but her gesturing is generally slack. "Who's Teivoth...?" Cue another head-swivel that has her missing Gustav entirely and noting Teris, instead. "No, that's Teris."

Teris watches this whole exchange between Gustav and the galleries and then with that dragon and her mouth falls open slightly. Speechless would be a good word for it since there's no talking to speak of as she watches the pair head off with a weyrlingmaster.

Inviere lets out a small noise at the gold's display of wanton violence. "Well." Is that a smile -- nay, a /grin/ -- on her lips? Surely not. She's too engrossed to actually see G'stav's Impression, but the sound of disgusted groans from nearby girls clues her in. She rolls her eyes dramatically.

Xeoshen blinks. "Gustav impressed? The guy that was too 'manly' ta take a piece of pink cloth?" He asks Ivana. "Well, good fer him." He says, and looks back to the eggs, and hatchlings, oh look, a gold. "She's a shiny one." He says, captain obvious here, yep. The green is eyed as well, there's so much to watch out here!

Flakes of color fall to the sands from the Rainbow Lattice egg, bright child's toys abandoned on the ground as the whole stack of sticks comes tumbling down. Leaving a spectrum of litter behind him, a solidly built blue dragonet goes careening forth, wings half-stretched to explore the world.

>---< Make Me A Match Blue >--------------------------------<

He leads with his chin, a dynamic tension threading his sleek, solid frame even when ostensibly standing still, his hide an effortless blue that will show every scar. It's as yet unmarred by so much as a pattern, though, no freckles, no patches: the gem-like clarity of summer sunlight, refracted through unbroken glass. That refraction does lend shifts of shade, but subtly so: hints of color along his neckridges when seen out of the corner of an eye, shadows lurking beneath his wingsails, a glossy grace note to the tail that always seems to want to curl. For a dragon so large and densely built, he's balanced both in physique and in motion, a vibrance that carries through to the eager lift of his head and the light in wide-set, gleaming eyes.

>----------------------------------------------------------<

Ivana turns to see G'stav and his blue leave the sands, and one hand reaches out for Xeoshen's. "Y'r tall, just let me know if ah'm in a good place, Xeo, all right?" she asks, eyes scanning the crowd anxiously now.

Extravagant Action Green Hatchling diverts her path towards a group of candidates, her wings fluttering at her sides as she leans forward to examine each in turn. No... no... /yes/. Her enthusiasm is palpable, impossible to ignore, as she lunges into her chosen candidate, inclining her head upwards to allow whirling blue eyes to meet Silarra's smokey-blue gaze. Impression? Well - that's a certainty.

Meara heads in from a tunnel off to the side.

Silarra looks over to the gold and winces. "Not a very pretty one, is she?" The girl comments. She opens her mouth to say something more then find a pair of blue eyes looking into her own. "Bestest friends?" There's a slight hint of doubt there before Silarra reaches out to rest her hand against the green's gooey hide where the head is nudging her. "Of course. Food. Right. That much we can definitely do." And she's willing to be led out as soon as the weyrling staff get to her.

Zarenya's clear green eyes flash one way and then the other, like a cat watching a bird fly to and fro juuuust on the other side of a pane of glass, though the bright little reflection that is the gold dragon widen her eyes, her mouth dropping open. "Uh. Um. ..Sure. Whatever you say, Vy."

Make Me A Match Blue bounds away from the ruins of his egg and promptly plants a foot in a bit of broken shell from one of his clutchmates' eggs. Huh what? Eyes down. Egg. Goo. Paw up! Shake-shake-shake! And an experimental lick for good measure then he's off again, galloping through the remaining eggs and flirting with the tip of another dragonet's tail before he moves on to explore the circle of candidates.

Inviere sighs noisily as she bears witness to Silarra's Impression. "Great," she pushes through clenched teeth. "Silarra and Gaber-- G'brion on sharding dragons. That's just... /perfect/." She jerks Saliqa's hand around in her annoyed gesticulations.

A shuddering thump sends the Nothing But A Winner Egg into a more active, sparkling dance, as pieces of shell begin to break free and scatter to the ground like a shower of somewhat sticky glitter. For now, the shell retains integrity, but it can't be too much longer-- the hatchling within is clearly increasingly eager for freedom. The Second Biggest Ever Egg twitches where it sits, patient as the day is long. This egg offers no insult, no insight; no mentions of nose-picking or diaper-wearing. It offers a single ripple, nearly dreamy, as if the occupant daydreams within.

Teris doesn't look anymore composed now that Gus is gone. She's trying, though. Trying with that lift of her chin and deep breath. The girl that was beside her isn't so much beside her anymore but the blonde doesn't seem to have noticed.

Xeoshen blinks as his hand is grabbed, and the kid on his other side decides Ivana's got a great idea, so his other hand is grabbed as well, when did he become the anchor in this? Not that he's complaining. "Right, if any come chargin' at us, I'll yank ya out of the way." He tells Ivana, and the boy, his eyes scanning the sands. "Another blue hatched, over there." He says, using one of his held hands to point. "And..." Blink. "Silarra impressed. Congrats Silarra!"

Attention to Candidates is better than attention to bits of eggshell, but Bloodletter's Bonfire Gold is probably supposed to have some interest in girls. And Impressing. Rather than chasing down a couple of crafter boys and, wings spread, rushing at them until they have to back hastily away from her. And then again. She cries sharp-edged glee. The one who didn't run is regarded with appraising eye... but nothing happens. Screeching, she launches furiously at him until he does have to duck out of the way.

With a final, triumphant roll, the Nothing But A Winner Egg shatters, marshalling onto the sands a diving green who nonetheless manages to keep her balance and end up safely on her own two... well, four feet. Her sequined wings still extended, she scans the sands, blinking at a patch of candidates to clear her eyes before taking another step. Onward!

>---< Sharp-Edged Acrobat Green >--------------------------<

Small, tough, and glittering-eyed, the young green dragon is anything but petite. Something about the way she carries her spangled wings makes them seem larger than they are, her neck longer, the blunt tips to her muzzle and tail more elegant. It's all about showmanship, though the satiny shade of her hide doesn't hurt, a uniform aquamarine that stretches across the promise of springy muscles and pales only at her paws in a soft, chalky dusting. Brighter are her wings, their sails given iridescence by fine waves of turquoise and gilt that, here and there, curl into whorls like so many tiny sequins... or bits of broken glass.

>----------------------------------------------------------<

Meara approaches Silarra staunchly, coming to a halt right by the girl and her green. "Food, then? Come on-- right this way, and we'll have something for you in a minute."

Saliqa generally lets her hand get maneuvered, though she makes some firm effort to get fingers to their sides. "Come on, come on," she urges, some sort of encouraging that she isn't going to explain amidst whatever of her own emotional reactions. And the dropping of her jaw at the gold's behavior. "I..." Accusing to Inviere, "Oh, so they don't /look dangerous/, eh?"

Silarra sighs at the green. "Alright, Liniath. Bestest of friends." She's not so out of it that she doesn't stick her tongue out at Inviere on the way past though, leading the green on after Meara towards the food.

Bloodletter's Bonfire Gold tires of teasing the boys, though she still spends a radically long amount of time staring longingly at a tall, dark-haired boy from Crom. Heart attack given to the weyrleaders, she now impatiently paces the line of girls until flinging herself at her chosen person, wrapping herself around a local blonde. Yes, yes, all the terrorizing is all well and good; but now, there's her treasure.

Such a flurry of action eventuates from the Improbably Green Egg, Cold Approach Egg and Unstable Tower Egg that it's all but impossible to determine which dragon comes from which. The trio - brown, blue and green - even head in the same direction, choosing their lifemates from a cluster of candidates standing close together. They're all helped off together, excitement visible all round. The Second Biggest Ever Egg offers a slight stirring, but still nothing big; it rather enjoys where it's at. It's soft here, and safe! Iovniath is only a step or two away, after all.

Warucori asks those around her, "I wonder what they feel like....all slippery and wet. Sticky?" She gapes at what Inviere says and whips her hand back and forth until she spots Silarra, "Oh..." her smile is slow, but still warm, "congratulations to them." Lifting a foot she shakes sand from the sandal.

Vyshani's brows draw together worriedly. "Or maybe not," she decides promptly after all the screeching and what-not. "I thought they were all supposed to be... you know... nice." Shows what she knows, don't it! "Oh, there's too much happening!" she complains again. "I want to see-- oh. Oh. /Look/!" And there she goes, trying to dislocate Zarenya's shoulder again.

Sharp-Edged Acrobat Green might or might not be nice. Or dangerous. What she does do is keep her wings out, only while they're drying all right, those tender muscles can't be used to such extension for long. When they fold, she leaps with vigor, goes still, leaps... and falls short again, nearly falling altogether. So stands there. And looks. And stands there some more. If Impression could happen across the cavern, if she could /see/ properly with egg membrane trailing across her eyes, she'd do it by force of will alone. Maybe, if she just sits there, her future rider will come to her... if she can only wait that long. She glances here and there. A tall one. A short one. The redheaded kid, yes, /that/ one. A bouncy one. A couple boys, still running. Another. She waits, head cocked, like she'd heard a /voice/ amidst all the cacophony. Maybe in the egg?

Inviere is thus chastized. "Fine, so she's crazy," she acknowledges, eyeing the gold, who-- chooses. Someone else. Her body goes slack, and she gives her head a shake, as if to clear it. "Okay," she says eventually, sotto voce. "Sure."

Make Me A Match Blue has so. much. to. check. out! In fact, what's under that skirt there? Something? Anything? His head vanishes up underneath a candidate's robe for a moment or two, earning an undignified squawk from the lad who looks like he can't quite decide whether to be thrilled, shoo the dragonet away or just hold still since that's usually safest. Right? Ultimately though, the blue's head re-emerges and he moves on. Nope. Not the one.

Teris is watching that gold dragonet somewhat cautiously after all that terrorizing of the other candidates. And then she staggers slightly and looks confused. Very confused. "No!" she says rather loudly, forgetting about everything else and lifting a hand for emphasis. "No. Iskiveth. You can't do that. They're already dead."

K'del's jaw drops fairly conclusively as the gold makes her choice; his reaction, after that, is to just shake his head. Over, and over, and over again. "Guess you'll need another assistant?" he tells Tiriana-- but he's more amused than anything, and probably more than a little pleased.

The Second Biggest Ever Egg splits asunder, and the hatchling within is left looking rather impossibly taken-aback over it all. A bit of shell, much darker blue than the headknobs it cloaks, hangs askew off the top of his head like an ill-fitting pot helmet, donned for questing. The blue hatchling wearing it doesn't look as if he'll be wandering far, though, with a daydream already taking his eyes far away from the locale in which he finds himself.

>---< Errant Knight Blue >---------------------------------<

There's courtliness in the long lines of this blue's face, clearly inherited from his dam; it's just too bad the rest of him has yet to catch up to that first dignified impression. His gleamingly pale hide of silvered blue is stretched too thin over a stringy, sway-backed form, here and there scuffed darker in a way that only accentuates the scrawniness of hip and shoulder. And look! There at the joints, he even looks rusted, orange-brown stains touching the points of his elbows and toes. It's a wonder he doesn't creak when he walks, his movements stiff like his suit doesn't have quite enough give to it. Wide dreamer's eyes are his best feature, closely followed by the thin wings flapping gallantly behind him: jauntily unaware of the comical figure he makes.

>----------------------------------------------------------<

The Inappropriate Bits of Brown Egg shudders and rolls, knocking hard into the Through The Eyes Of Egg beside it. A moment later, both collapse into a flurry of shards, leaving behind a pair of matched greens who launch off in different directions. They find their partners without dramatics, the two newest weyrlings led from the sands with beaming grins.

Saliqa focuses quite a bit of her attention on watching for Inviere's reaction rather than the gold Impression that caused it; though the girl might find her fingers being slowly strangled to death. Now there's absolutely no head-turning whatsoever for the stands. In fact, she seems to have lost the ability to turn her head at all.

Meara heads in from a tunnel off to the side.

Ivana takes a deep breath and tries to see what's happening in the knot of women up ahead. "Too much noise!" she says to Xeoshen. "It's at times like these ah wish ah were taller." And the wry look she gives him is full of laughter. "Is that Teris, up there.. with th'.. with th'gold?" Maybe she doesn't have to be tall at all.

Errant Knight Blue finally creaks to his broad paws, though the dreaminess is yet to leave his expression. Expression is obscured as helmet-like eggshard tilts forwards, jostled at his movement. There is a moment of valiant struggle, which looks more like a comedy skit than actual jousting, and finally Errant Knight Blue Hatchling is free'd from such evil confinement! Much to the dismay of close-by candidates, he starts a grand quest to the far side of the sands, ignoring every white-cloaked candidate as if they are mere honor guard.

Warucori's face twists in disapointment at who the gold picks. She looks from the gold and the new weyrling and then over to Inviere with bafflement. "But....but...." she frowns, "this just doesn't make any sense at all." The girl decides and crosses her arms over her chest. "and I thought that big egg had a bronze it in too. This guessing thing is too hard."

Xeoshen has his eyes on the terrorizing gold, tense, and ready to yank his little group /out of the way/ if she comes this way. Fortunately he's saved that duty, for now. "Aye, it is, it's Teris." He tells Ivana. "And, there's another blue too." He says.

Inviere is fixated on Teris and the queen, though as the new weyrling pronounces her lifemate's name, she looks down to her feet, to the stands, to anything that doesn't have eyes. "No, I mean, it makes sense, though," she insists. She watches the Bits of Brown egg spasm and burst. "It does."

Bounding forward eagerly, the Make Me A Match Blue Hatchling seems to have gotten wind of what he really wants, and speeds onward as unerringly as an arrow shot from Cupid's bow. A tanned young woman with ash blonde curls is the one he seems to be after; he careens up to her eagerly, head tipped back to meet her gaze with the adoration of any newly-made couple. His triumphant croon of delight confirms: she's the one that he wants!

Meara takes careful steps across the sands towards Teris and her dragon-- she takes a deep breath. Then: "Come on, Teris. Follow me, and we'll get-- Iskiveth? Some food."

"My /arm/!" Zarenya squawks at Vyshani with a bit of a glare at the shorter woman and brings a hand to rub at her offended appendage with a grumble. She does have the forethought to glance over what's being indicated, and she does a doubletake. "Whoa." Teris Impressed.

Errant Knight Blue slows his questing to finally take notice of a line of white-robed candidates. It does not take long to see what has attracted his attention; every single one he considers is a lady - or a girlchild, at the least. He pulls himself up selfconciously, nevernomind the creaking movement of his legs. A knight with lordly standards, he! and never one to forget, though t'is obvious he's struggling with making this particular choice.

It's certainly not that the Sharp-Edged Acrobat Green gives up, so much as that she's reached... a different part of her routine. Yes. This one's choreography needs some work, for all that she accomplishes individual movements well: it's the way they're connected. One paw, the other paw. The third, the first, the fourth. There was that voice. /There/. She follows it towards a pair, no, a trio holding hands. Sure, one's tall, but apparently no, they don't have to be.

Vyshani starts to shift from foot to foot, less bouncy and more anxious-seeming now. "Sorry." Contritely. Not that that subdues her for long. "I've completely lost track. How many are left, Ren?" Though the Sands are certainly a lot emptier than they were, and she begins to chew on her lower lip as she looks around. "Do you--" but no, she doesn't finish that one.

Teris is only shaking her head down at the creature wrapped about her. She can't even think of anything to say except, "No." Then Meara's caught her attention and she tries to move so that they can head toward the tunnel. "Some food, yes." Because Teris is looking a little worried otherwise.

Errant Knight Blue Hatchling reaches the end of his courtly steps, tiring by the ever-slowing placement of broad paws. Though chivalrous, his yearning glances to the ladies on the Sands seem wistful rather than with any intention, and it seems to surprise the blue himself when he finds himself in front of one of the male convicts. Surprise fades to jovial camaraderie, and he's butting his head into the boy's chest in the next heartbeat: though with his luck, he'll likely knock his new lifemate over!

She doesn't have the flair she'll have when she's older, but there's a trace of it already in the way she moves, even in the way she stops, her blunt muzzle elongated by the clean line of her neck. The Sharp-Edged Acrobat green is done with cursory glances, at looking anywhere at all but the redheaded sailor-girl before her. It's all over now, and it's just begun.

The Inevitable Failure Egg does eventually fail, the very last to do so, its shell cracking under the strain of an internal assault. For a moment it shudders, and then a curvy little green pushes her head out through one particular patch of magenta. Body follows and from the start, she knows this game and she's gonna play it. She heads straight for a skinny redheaded boy from the Weyr who cries in an improbably deep voice: "No, of course I'm never gonna give you up!" And then... it's all over.

Warucori hms and she gives a little toss of her head suddenly as the arms that were at her chest suddenly loosen and her hands slide up to her neck and....in a high-pitched, utterly girlish manner she squeals, "OOoohhmygoshshsh!!!" She bends forward, falling onto one knee to get closer to the blue, "Zaxameth! Ohmygosh! Yes! Of course. Everything." She assures the blue. Of course there's tears for the occation as well as she flings herself at the young dragon. Goo and all.

Meara leaves Teris to it, as soon as she can, hurrying across to collect Warucori, grinning. "Enthusiastic, much?" is her quiet remark, but-- no, she's definitely pleased. "Why don't you and Zaxameth come with me, and we'll get him some food, mm?"

Zaxameth surges forward into the embrace of Warucori's arms, croooooning for all he's worth. His wings flutter, lift and partially return that 'hug'. He might need some ... further encouraging to draw him away.

Warucori giggles and blinks up at Meara, "I'm sorry....sorry." She even tells the little blue, "Sorry. Ok....ohno!" It's a huge effort not to topple over but she manages to untangle ithout too much trouble and carefully leads Zaxameth along with her and Meara, grinning from ear to ear.

Ivana lets go of Xeoshen's hand slowly, and sinks to her knees. Why? Because there's a green dragonet who insists on her attention, and the redheaded girl can't see anything else. "Kynith," she says, as if it's the most wonderful name in the whole world. "We'll get y'food, right away, Kynith." And she's up on her feet again, with new purpose.

K'del swallows, heavily, as the last hatchling Impresses, and there's nothing left on the sands but eggshells and-- candidates. Tiriana, predictably, leaves the next bit to him. He has to clear his throat several times before; "I hope you all realise that we wouldn't've asked you to Stand if you didn't have a chance. I'm sorry your dragons weren't on the sands today... Maybe you'll get another chance. Hope so. Can give you lifts back to your homes, if you like, or you're welcome to stay. In the meantime, do hope you'll stay for the feast." He swallows again, looking awkward, then hurriedly bobs his head as if to say 'yes, yes, I'm done, you can go'. /Awkward/.

Saliqa takes advantage of what is this oddly quiet moment to take stock of what's going on around her. She does so carefully and with glances only exactly where she wants to look, no drifting around, just incase. "That... that's it, right? We don't need to do anything else, we just go..." Which is moments after confirmed by the familiar awkward that is K'del. Swiveling on her heels, she gives some kind of odd head-bob to Inviere before wordlessly excusing herself.

X'en looks about, damn, there's so much to watch at once, how were theby supposed to manage this? "Warucori impressed." He tells Ivana, and then he's suddently being head butted by a blue, and he winds up with his rear on the hot sands, the boy next to him quick enough to let go in time, and scramble back. "Baly-Balyeroth?" He blinks confused for a moment, and then nods. " Um, feast, right, I...think we can find it Balyeroth." He says, pulling himself back to his feet, to place a hand on the blues head. He doesn't notice Icvana's impressed.

Two for the price of one: Leova's already hurrying over for the newly-made bluerider, when she has to duck out of the green's way. She waits, looking less patient than she might be what with bobbing from foot to foot in the heat, until she can guide both X'en and Ivana off the sands. As it is, J'vain and the youngest green on Pern make it out before they do. Not to mention the redhead. "This way," she says, not loudly but firm. "Come with me."

Inviere looks -- diminished, for all her height, and releases Saliqa's hand numbly while K'del does his thing. And then, after long minutes, she trots quietly after Saliqa, and freedom of a sort.

"Ren?" Vyshani looks a little lost as she blinks at the young woman she's been clinging to this entire time. "Maybe we should... should go get baths. And food. There'll be food." Though the Bollian doesn't look particularly hungry as she turns to wander away, seemingly unconcerned if Zarenya follows her or not.

"Huh?" Zarenya must be in a daze, since she stares blankly at Vyshani and finally blinks out of it. "But I already bathed.." Speaking of, she touches her hair and makes a sound of disgust as it seems the heat from the sands has frizzed up her hair considerably. "Damn it. Wait up." And off she flees from the heat.