Difference between revisions of "Logs:Isyath and Rasavyth's Clutch Hatches"

{{Log

|involves=High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr

|who = Ali, Azaylia, B'rant, Hattie, Elise, E'ten, Lilah, N'muir

| where = Galleries/Hatching Sands, Fort Weyr

| what = Fort's Isyath and High Reaches' Rasavyth's clutch hatches.

| quote = "I forgive you. Please don't..."

| weather =  

| categories = Hatching

| mentions = K'zin

| log = '''Galleries, Fort Weyr'''

''The entrance to the sands and galleries alike is little more than an archway and a section of flat stone before it dissolves into the sands proper. Although it's warm here, it's not nearly as hot as the sands themselves are. To the right is a broad pathway leading to the stands, with a set of stairs leading up one side all the way to the upper tiers. Also visible from here is an odd engraving on the wall -- an etching that details the rotation of the Red Star.''

''Lined along the right-hand side of the hatching cavern are the galleries, the seats carved from the stone wall and stacked backward to allow observers the best view possible of the golden sands. Those at the bottom are protected from wayward dragonets by a railing, while dignitaries from outside the Weyr -- Lord Holders, other Weyrleaders, Craftmasters and their ilk -- have a specially designated spectator's box at the topmost row. There are three separate flights of stairs leading into the galleries, with one near the entrance, another set in the middle, and a flight at the northernmost end.''

----

It’s been bitterly cold all day, the latest of winter clinging on despite the move into spring. All day, people have been on the edge of their seat, with the dragonhealers (and the weyrwoman) indicating the hatching would happen today. But the day drags on, and the eggs remain still, with Isyath pacing restlessly back and forth on the sands. There’s no sign of Rasavyth, and the queen’s in a mood. It’s dark and late – near midnight – when the first egg shows a sign of movement, and it’s almost with a relief that Fort’s dragons begin to emit a low hum that quickly spreads throughout the Weyr.  

From the sands, About to answer N'muir's question, Ali starts as the dragon's humming begins to spread through the Weyr. Jerking upright, she looks frankly relieved, and she's rushing back out onto the sands to try and stay Isyath's pacing. Even before the first candidates have set foot on the sands, the first egg - a large green - splits apart and spills out in a shower of noise and greeting from the older dragons.

It isn't Lilah's idea to be here, not as late as this hatching has begun nor the fact that she'd just managed to fall asleep. And yet, here she is, trailing Eliyaveith in where the dragonet has dragged her from bed as the sound of humming reverberated against her hide, drawn her to the galleries. Eli doesn't know /why/ it is important to be here, but she knows it is, so she has staked a claim on a seat in the galleries, her large paws settled on the seat in front of her as she peers out on the shaking eggs. Lilah settles next to her, smothering a yawn.

From the sands, Elise has been staying in her room and not the dorms, since the last hatching, and so the summons for this one was a little more... harried. The humming started, waking her from the light sleep she was managing, and getting into her robe took a few moments longer than it maybe should have, half-asleep as she is. She makes it, though, though she's one of the last to show up, tripping over her own foot before bowing hastily to... well, Isyath. Her furrowed brow and rumpled bun make for a very confused and unprepared look indeed.

It's late and E'ten has been doing anything possible to maintain the vigil for the eggs which were supposed to hatch today. Tonight. It really doesn't matter at this point, given that he's making his way into the galleries with a mug of klah in one hand and otherwise attired neatly. For all that he should be asleep. The sound of a hatching egg however, finds him smirking at an 'I told you' so from his dragon as he spots both Lilah and Eliyaveith. "I don't think I've ever seen a gold attending a Hatching like this," he remarks with a nod to both weyrlings.

This time, High Reaches Weyrwoman is not able to catch the first hatchling as she spills free from her egg. Sooner rather than later, Hraedhyth's deep hum joins in to welcome Fort's next generation. Azaylia carries her skirts as she runs, stopped by the mass of bodies that are steadily filling the galleries. Once again, the more formal seating is ignored for one ''closer'' to the sands, excitement carried in bright eyes and a warm smile. She's polite in her request for a seat, unaware that the formal knot on her shoulder may make the hunt easier.

From the sands, Rather than spend her time with the visiting dignitaries who have (probably) rolled out of bed to attend, Hattie offers N'muir a faint, wearily smile, and chooses to occupy a spot at the edge of the Sands, just at the break between the first row of seating and where pale sand begins. She doesn't look at all stressed or anxious, if tired, but watches with obvious curiosity, leaning back against stone to try and escape the full heat of the Sands.

From the sands, As the candidates make their way out, some of them walk the sands with steeled nerves, having just Stood for Elaruth's clutch not so long ago or previous clutches before that. But there are still those who are new to the group, clinging to their sleeves and looking around with wide, anxious eyes. The line spreads out, hastily shuffling as the first egg splits open.

From the sands, Ali isn't exactly dressed for a hatching: her resplendent gown of earlier has been replaced with something more practical - light and white - a fact that is probably a relief given the heat of the sands. As the candidates begin straggling out, she heaves a sigh of relief. At least Isyath has stopped her pacing, though perhaps only because of her rider's presence.

"The humming woke her," murmurs Lilah quietly, her gaze sliding upwards to E'ten. And tiredly, she lifts a salute to the bronzerider, though it is clear that she would rather not, especially where she quickly abandons it to reach for a book in the bag she's managed to capture before Eliyaveith dragged her out. "And she can't get to--." You know, the ledges up there, says the weyrling's tipped chin to the older dragons.

From the sands, From one of the smaller eggs spills a sturdy blue, all a tangle of wings and limbs. Once he manages to untangle himself, it's difficult to believe that he fit inside his egg at all, his midnight-hued form stocky and curvy. It takes him a little while to sort himself out, then he goes tumbling forward into the waiting arms of one of the nearest Candidates.

B'rant is hurrying into the grounds, his finest wardrobe displayed as the towering young man searches for a seat. It's stuffed in here! Rhenth is backwinging hurriedly to a ledge, then squeezing his bulk in beside a blue dragon -- whom he gives a polite warble of greeting and apology to for needing to share the space -- then humming his hearts out for those hatchlings below.

From the sands, Leaves of Gold Egg shivers, drawing many curious eyes to eyes to it, male and female Candidates alike. If not gold, surely bronze? A confident young man steps forward, inching towards the egg and gesturing to his closest friends, who obediently follow after. Watching. Waiting.

From the sands, The large green stumbles about, then as the candidates form up, makes a beeline towards them. There's very little indecision - she makes straight for a dark-haired girl with green eyes, who looks very much like the junior weyrwoman Ali. Judging by the goldrider's startled expression, it's very likely a sibling of hers.

From the sands, Elise is already sweating, pushing soppy strands of hair away from her eyes and wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. She still looks so, so disoriented, her brain trying to wake itself up to catch up with her arms and legs that have already been forced into fast motion by instinct. She doesn't know many from the Candidates that are here now, looking from one face to the next to try to attach to someone... and failing. So instead she just heaves big breaths and tries not to freak out.

From the sands, One of the older girls, in her last months of being eligible to Stand, can't help but make it plainly obvious just how anxious she is. At each shell's shattering, and at the sight of each new hatchling, she stares longingly in their direction, murmuring inaudible words under her breath.

E'ten quirks his lips into something of a smile as he looks up at the ledges where his own Adiulth sits, joining his own voice to the humming in the galleries before looking to the pair beside him and then to the sands. Not one, but both brows rising at spotting someone who looks like Ali but isn't. "Well now," he murmurs, more to something not mentioned between them. If only evident by the fact he continues with a remark to Lilah, "I understand. What I wouldn't give to be an artist to catch that pose though. It would be good for both of you, I think."

Azaylia gives a doubletake to the young queen in the stands, adding a delighted, if confused, quirk to her smile. She doesn't linger, although her gaze does as she finally finds a seat close to the rails. Those she sits near are perhaps too accommodating, making more room than the goldrider needs. As B'rant searches, she'll give him a frienly little wave-- she may not distinctly remember him, but she'd do the same for any.

From the sands, Another egg develops a crack down its belly, and a handsome brown hatchling kicks away its shell, eagerly trying to find his feet. He rights himself and takes of running, aiming for a young man who is too preoccupied with staring up at the Galleries that it's moments before his lifemate is crashing into his legs that the boy even realises he's a target. They tumble down in a heap together, unharmed, the boy grinning from ear to ear.

From the sands, Leaves of Gold Egg cracks neatly in two as it rocks toward, though it doesn't shatter on impact and continues to keep its occupant captive. Scrabbling can be heard from the inside of the cracked shell as the dragonet within struggles to be free, clawing and nosing at the break until a pale wingtip strikes through, followed by forepaws that drag the edges apart and permit head and shoulders to push themselves free. In a matter of moments, a small, white-gold dragonet lies on the Sands beside her shell, breathing heavily.

Small of stature and so fragile as to look almost skeletal, her petite, golden form is bathed in pale, white-gold from head to toe, the shimmer that dances across her metallic hide lending her a ghostly aura that makes her seem more delicate than she truly is. There is not one scrap of extra weight on her long-limbed form, her shoulders slender, chest narrow and body hollowed between ribcage and flanks. On first glance, she looks to be all that soft, pale-gold without blemish, but, close-up, rosy light curves first in delicate tendrils at the corners of her eyes, then ripples through her tiny ridges and twists along her shoulders. Bright, brassy hues faintly highlight the hollows between her ribs and the joints in her limbs, while a silvery cloud washes across her thin, near see-through wingsails. Her claws are the only darkness to her, black against near white.

----

"As long as that artist doesn't catch me," Lilah adds with a dry hint to her words, her fingers lifting to bed-mussed hair and brushing at it ineffectually for a moment. She doesn't open her book, not with the bronzerider joining her, but her attention is quickly diverted by Eliyaveith's welcoming warble of the next egg to crack. Lilah's dark gaze slides quickly to the Sands, leaning slightly forward to catch sight of the newest queen.

From the sands, Ali's looking towards Hattie and N'muir, then back towards the dark-haired girl; she doesn't have overly long to linger on that, when the bronze-gold egg hatches. While publicly she's been downplaying the egg's likelihood of being a gold, when a queen emerges there's a delighted smile that spreads across her features. Isyath makes a noise, though it's not specifically in greeting of the queen so much as a general welcome to all the dragons, her humming unabated.

Giving those he recognizes quick smiles or a polite word of recognition as he passes, towering B'rant can't help but notice Azaylia's wave of welcome, and like a bolt of lightning, he zips as fast as he can over to 'Reaches Weyrwoman, and soon enough inserts his form into the seat on her left. "Thanks, Weyrwoman. Like Hatchings, eh?" is murmured around a small grin, which turns into a applause for the hatchlings finding their lifemates. A sudden surprised blink and an 'oh' is given for the sight of yet /another/ gold popping her shell. "Another one! Way to go, Ali, Issy!" is called out loud.

From the sands, N'muir hangs back from the thick of things, lingering near the exit of the sands looking excitedly anxious. There's a moment of horror that awashes his face as the boy and his brown tumble down - perhaps anticipating another accident? But it fades with relief. At least until his eyes catch pale gold. His arms knit tightly, eyes darting along the line. Who is she going to go for?

From the sands, Elise startles when that brown all but tackles that boy, but there's no harm done, no gore. Not that that helps her trembling, which started a few minutes ago and shakes her from head to toe, starting with her hands and going up her arms. She tries to do something with that energy and, without any hands to hold, she clenches her fists around the fabric of her robe. That helps. When the gold hatches... is that a gold? she lifts her eyebrows. Oh. So it /was/.

From the sands, A sunny yellow egg splits down the middle in vast, jagged lines, releasing a pale green dragonet with paws and ridges the colour of fresh leaves. After paws meet sand, she stretches, arching her wings wide, only for one of her blue siblings to topple almost /through/ her wingsail, too hasty in his eagerness to reach the Candidates. Young, untested voices cry out in alarm, and the stab of panic results in two immediate Impressions, their new riders drawn over to assist them.

"Love them." Azaylia answers, sounding even more breathless than her usual gentle tone. When the pale little gold breaks free, there's a squeak of delight before she's half-standing and giving a happy laugh. "Oh..! Oh it ''was'' a gold!" With the rest of the dragons, Hraedhyth lifts her head and snarls a passionate greeting to the new golden sister-- even if she is not of High Reaches.

From the sands, Hattie's somewhat uncertain glance over at Ali blossoms into a smile that borders somewhere on the lines of what is, for her, ridiculously happy. She stands up a little straighter, trying to get a better look at the newly-hatched gold, but refrains from edging any further onto the Sands. For now, she's content to just /look/.

From the sands, Cradled in Light Gold slowly steadies her breathing, then picks herself up and sits back to take in her surroundings. She doesn't head straight for the Candidates, but chooses a path that starts to take her around the outer edges of the Sands, the girls in their white robes studied from afar. However, every so often she sneaks a look up at the galleries, at the people gathered there. Does she know which she's meant to choose from?

"It's a thought, you know." Spoken in what might be a suggestion, E'ten's voice pauses in just a beat as he watches the collision with a caught breath. It shouldn't be a rough Hatching like the last one but one never knows. The gold, however, has the bronzerider whistling low as he sees the young queen go about searching for her own person. Rider. "It looks like your Eliyaveith may have a sibling in the barracks soon enough."

From the sands, A blue-tinged egg shatters, fragments crumbling until its occupant - a dark bronze - gives a good shake to free himself of the remnants. The bronze considers the line of candidates like his gold sister but he needs to see them up close and personal, not from afar. He paces slowly down the line of Candidates, studying each boy with careful consideration. Only once he's looked each boy up and down does he pick - the last boy at the end.

From the sands, Elise winces. Those noises. And even if those hatchlings found their riders, nobody likes to hear a hurt baby dragon. The noise alone without the reason behind it is bad enough. Her hands come up to her ears until it's over, until she sees that bronze Impress happily without incident. She still looks pale though, and the shaking won't stop no matter how many times she curls and uncurls her fingers.

From the sands, The next bronze, who leaves his shell behind him in great pieces on the Sands, moves so quickly that getting a good look at him is challenging thing. When he slows enough to get a good look at those he should choose from, it becomes obvious that he's much smaller than is to be expected - more along the lines of a small brown. It doesn't seem to hinder him, for he soon finds the boy that he wants, choosing one of the youngest and smallest Candidates present.

From the sands, Cradled in Light Gold continues to skirt around the edge of the Sands, unwilling to miss out on anything that might turn out to be /important/. Her long limbs carry her skittering this way and that, curious, her attention sometimes on the figures in the galleries, sometimes on the girls for her to choose from, until her steps slow and her focus is drawn towards a single, white-robed figure. After that, her pace becomes much more steady, as she arrows in towards a Ruathan girl, then one of her spindly gives way and sends her stumbling, reaching out and raking claws down the girl's calves. Righted and contrite, she creels up at her, whirling gaze apologetic and adoring.

"It seems she may," murmurs Lilah, though her words are reserved rather than happy for this newest addition.

From the sands, Pressed against Isyath, Ali's trying to keep her breathing even, rather than hold her breath as she's inclined to do. Her gaze flickers back and forward, trying to keep track of all the hatchlings - but there's far too many to do so easily. When the queen impresses though, she goes still, expression odd, uncertain, flickering towards Hattie and N'muir again.

There's a blurt of similarly-pleased laughter from B'rant when Azaylia responds the way she does, the young man leaning over a little to murmur to the Weyrwoman, "Looks like I owe Rhenth something. He said the egg was a gold, I said bronze." Another look down to various hatchlings and candidates has him grazing eyes over the wandering little queen again and wondering aloud, "She's /really/ thinly built..." And on his gray gaze carries to the bursting blue egg and the bronze within who soon finds his own mate. Applause follows next for that perhaps 'stubby' bronzling choosing the smallest of the boys. Meanwhile, Rhenth is crooning and humming for all he's worth up there, restrained from wriggling his wings by the blue squished in at his side. What... the gold now, too? "Oh JAYS!" Not /another/ injury!

From the sands, Elise wasn't looking, her mistake. She was watching that second bronze, the small one, Impress, then watching that pair walk off together. Understandably she isn't prepared for when that gold hatchling comes up at her, the moment she sees her and the rake of claws down her legs coinciding in a mix of pain, her knees buckling, her hands clasping at one leg, where blood has begun to seep through the cuts... and then... then she's down, reaching out a hand to touch tentatively that sweet head. "...it's alright," she says, huge tears spilling from her eyes, but through the pain and the absolutely overwhelming everything, she says meekly. "I forgive you. Please don't..."

From the sands, Hattie... stares. The dregs of that smile still linger, but she doesn't appear to know quite what to do with them, lips parting to... say nothing. She looks rather undignified, as though paused mid-sentence and yet to reanimate, but she eventually takes a step back to rest against stone once again, expression settling into something between /trying/ not to look happy and genuine concern, whether due to those injuries or otherwise. When she tries to catch Ali's eye, she pushes that look towards something more confident, no hint of worry to be seen.

"Oh hush. She's just delicate." Azaylia whispers, defending the pale hatchling against what ''could'' be considered a criticism. Although her half-stand turns full as one by one, the dragonets find their lifemates. And when that ''familiar'' girl is raked by the claws of her new bond, "Oh!" Hands fly up to the goldrider's mouth, brows fighting between elation and concern above glassy eyes. "''Oh.''"

From the sands, Two eggs hatch in unison, their eggs collapsing from around them in perfect timing, revealing two greens that look like mirror images of each other. They don't need much time to fan their dainty wings before wandering down the line, one quickly claiming her boy from the nearest cluster of candidates while her sister takes but a few seconds longer to find her girl.

"Elise..." B'rant's baritone murmurs in a hint of mixed surprise and agreement with the newest little gold's choice, watching the two bond as blood flows on the sands. To Azaylia's words is noted with easy, light humor, "/Elaruth/ is dainty." Grin. Above them, Rhenth is crooning at Elise's injury -- his blue eyes flecked with yellow splotches -- then slipping back into humming and a few warbles as he too welcomes more dragonets into the world.

From the sands, Aedrielth creels again and nudges her nose into Elise's palm, then moves to try and wrap herself around the new weyrling, somehow. It might mean that she ends up with blood marring her pale hide, but it's a price she's willing to pay.

From the sands, Reesa, lingering near the edges after escorting the latest brown pair off, shakes her head as the gold Impresses /and/ injures the Ruathan girl at the same time. Muttering under her breath, the assistant weyrlingmaster heads over towards Elise, "Can you walk?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder, "Let's get you off the sands. She needs food, and you need-" she makes a face, then stretches out a hand as if in offer of a shoulder for the other girl if needed.

From the sands, One by one the eggs hatch, but soon enough - all too quickly - they're gone. As the last of the hatchlings - a mid-sized blue - stumbles to Impression with a young weyrbred boy, the sands fall silent apart from the delighted chattering of the weyrlings as they're herded off the sands. Ali's gaze sweeps over the remaining candidates, chewing her lip, before her gaze seeks N'muir, waiting for him to come and give the same speech he gave less than three sevens ago.

E'ten casts a sideways glance at Lilah but changes his attention just in time to see Elise Impress to the young gold. That finds the man lifting his mug of klah to his lips. Sipping rather than immediate comment, but when he does? "I think that I'm surprised."

Eliyaveith bugles the loudest that the gold dragonet can manage at the Impression, proud of those only a few weeks younger than she for finding their lifemates but especially that little queen, so like and unliike herself. "You didn't help her find her," Lilah corrects, responding to the silent thoughts of her dragon, shaking her head. But then her gaze slips sideways to E'ten in turn, and she questions, "Why?"

From the sands, Elise is crying. In front of everyone. There's no shame in it, she doesn't /care/ about anything but Aedrielth, her hands moving all over her near-white hide, stopping short when she sees the blood, her blood, and trying instantly with disgust to wipe it clean. "What?" she asks sharply, distracted, looking up at Reesa with dazed eyes. She recognizes the greenrider instantly and reaches up with her one clean hand for that assistance, reaches back with the other for Aedrielth, and yes she's limping very slightly off the sands, limping and crying and telling Reesa all about it on the way.

From the sands, Elise has left.

From the sands, Aedrielth has left.

From the sands, Taking Ali's cue, N'muir steps forward and raises his hands, coming between the empty shards of shells and the disappointed faces of those left Standing. "If you are left here today that does not mean there isn't a place for you here at Fort Weyr," he calls out. "If you can make yourself useful here, we will do what we can to see that you stay if that's what you wish. For those of you who wish to return home, we will arrange rides in the days to come." His arms fall back to his sides and a smile grows across his lips. "But regardless of whether you stay or go, please enjoy what's left of the night. It's been too long a day for everyone."

Azaylia gives a firm nod, hands lifting to brush her cheeks as the sands are beginning to empty. "Elise." A name that doesn't sound so foreign on her tongue. "She'll be alright." Is said more to herself, although her gaze shifts over to B'rant soon after. Watching as the girl limps off the sands, she repeats with quiet certainty, "She'll be alright." Eyes scan the broken shells and lumbering new pairs, small smile fighting off the end of the hatching for as long as she can.

There's only that last blue...and it's done? Much too fast for B'rant, there's only shells and some of Elise's blood left over down there on the sands, all the dragonets and their new lifemates finished walking off towards the Barracks. The man gives a small sigh of disappointment, then finds himself nodding softly to Azaylia. "Do you know her?" is inquired of the woman's mention of Elise.

"I'm not really sure." And that, may very well be the truth once all the dragonets have been marched off with their pairs. "She's a good match - there's no denying that the dragons know best. It's like, I never could have guessed that you and Eliyaveith would have found each other. One never knows what a queen looks for in a person." That said, he does gesture towards the stairs with one hand before people begin milling away or at least to their own beds. "Did the two of you need an escort back or were you going to stay here a bit longer?"

From the sands, Ali looks frankly relieved when N'muir takes center stage, and the moment he's finished speaking, Isyath launches aloft, heading for the tunnel leading to the skies. There's probably not much guessing as to where she's going: to take up her post in the Fortian skies, late or not. The junior looks tired, clearing her breath, as she adds with a glance to Hattie, "I believe we're going to - do a breakfast in lieu of a feast, given the hour. We'll arrange for places to sleep for those that want to stay for it."

Eliyaveith's head turns to E'ten at that statement, regarding him with a cool regality for his mention of her that lasts longer than anyone might be comfortable with, though perhaps not, given that the heavy queen is only a few weeks old. Lilah, however, only answers her own opinion of, "Elise is the first I would think would be chosen. She has the star-struck, always-wanted-to-be-a-rider quality." But, she stretches to her feet, nodding at his offer. "Yeah, I am going to try to get this one back to bed. It's over now, Eli. Nothing more is going to happen. --Though, once we get back, she might be too excited to meet them to sleep."

"Not very well." Comes Azaylia's honesty, "But... she left an impression." The Weyrwoman gives a gentle nod at the end of the Weyrleader's speech, looking relieved and spent-- which might have to do with the late hour. Now that it's done, she'llgladly take part in whatever festive hospitalities Fort Weyr has planned.

From the sands, "A rare opportunity to drink at breakfast," Hattie declares, giving Ali a wry smile. "At least a 'rare' opportunity for /some/." She offers Ali her arm and nods towards the entryway that leads back out into the cold night air. "We should speak to the kitchen staff too, and see if they can make some snacks available in the meantime. It should be fine - they have been /waiting/ for this, after all."

Count on B'rant to offer Azaylia an arm and an escort to breakfast, if she so wishes. No matter her choice, the bronzer inquires again of the woman as he too rises and departs, "How so, if I can ask?"

From the sands, Ali's eyes widen at the suggestion of drinking at /breakfast/, clearly not a conclusion she's jumped to. "I- might stick to klah, myself," she says in a laughing sort of murmur. She looks tired enough to be grateful for Hattie's offered arm, linking with the other goldrider's as she picks her way off the sands. "I knew it would be /today/, even if it was only /just/ today," she's saying to Hattie, kind of sheepishly.

Azaylia accepts B'rant's arm with a grateful smile. "Thank you." As for Elise, "Do you not know her well?" The goldrider teases, as if the 'how' should be obvious. Not one to make fun for long, she'll tell of how she bumped into the now-gold weyrling not too long ago.