Logs:Eliyaveith and Liesanth's Clutch Hatches

From NorCon MUSH
Eliyaveith and Liesanth's Clutch Hatches
"Oh, it's starting!"
RL Date: 27 June, 2015
Who: Lilah, C'stian, Hattie, G'vri, W'leri, J'zen, Ka'ge, Dee, Ead, Aikane, Isabeau, Casseny, I'dro, Farideh, Irianke, K'del, Faryn, L'sha, Yesia, Celestra, Y'tob, Nasci, Paislie
Involves: Fort Weyr
Type: Log
What: Fort's Eliyaveith and Liesanth's clutch hatches!
Where: Galleries, Fort Weyr
When: Day 11, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10)

From the sands, All day, Eliyaveith has been carefully arranging her eggs in an exacting pattern, none of them close to each other as they form their perfect lines, circling that golden-sheened egg in the center. It's an antsy thing, for all that her eggs still are not expected to hatch for at least another day. Yet when she finishes and settles down to watch her clutch in the wee hours of night, closer to midnight than to dinner, the gold begins that low, clear hum that signals her children's arrival. It is quickly picked up by Liesanth, and then further and further as dragons join them in the hatching cavern. The eggs have started to shake and displace themselves here and there, but the queen's whirling gaze studies the Picking a Path Egg.

Lilah has managed to dress herself before many arrive and join her dragon, standing erect and reserved near Eliyaveith as she holds herself under the eyes of the galleries. She is clad in a white dress in Igen style that matches the soft, falling snow outside, similar enough to a Candidate's robes except it is underlaced with soft layers of grey. Shoulders are left bare and her hair is worn down in a mess of red-gold curls, despite the heat of the sands. Where the dam watches the eggs, she watches the galleries.

From the sands, Casseny doesn't so much take Aikane's hand as she does brush a few fingertips to press against the girl's arm, in that way meaning to guide her within the line of others. "Keep your head up," she murmurs, chin ever so slightly tilted towards her random new ward, "Don't approach one of them unless you've Impressed. You'll know. Listen to the weyrlingmaster's-- " slight hitch, "staff.... Breathe." There. Nod. Cassney keeps her fingers' pressure while she bows to the assembled parents then begins to pull away, by herself.

From the sands, Dee stumbles as she crosses the boundary made by sand and stone. Instinctively, her hands reach to steady herself on Jemizen's back as she follows her brother. With that familiar support that certainly goes beyond the light touch, the girl manages to get her feet under her again and continue on to offer respectful bows to dam and sire. Though some might've taken bets that the weak-stomached candidate might lose her-- well, late night snack? on the Sands, she looks flushed more than peaked or green.

After briefly skirting alongside the railings dividing galleries from Sands, Hattie begins a slow climb to the highest row of seats, where she heads for some of the region's visiting Lords and Ladies. For the moment, Fort's Lord is merely acknowledged, and the Weyrwoman settles herself down next to Lady Jenilynn of Southern Boll, and not so distant from the Lord of Ruatha. It's mannered chatter between Weyrwoman, Lord and Lady, their focus mostly on the Sands, as it should be, but what can be heard of their talk is a meandering thing, subject readily changing.

From the sands, Kaelige pauses once his feet hit the heated sands, not out of hesitancy nor distaste but with an almost too-abrupt responsibility of dipping his head in inclination of a bow- to the clutchmother, to the sire, to those on the sands already. In the rush that preceeds it all, there's little time to case the sands appropriately- the eggs re-arranged as their tending mother so carefully does, and he's shortly out onto the heat by the flow of the other white-robes around him.

Irianke enters the galleries and ascends the stairs slowly towards the uppermost. It's slow cause she's stopping to greet people on the way, giving polite hugs and kisses to the cheek, until she reaches her seat, entourage in tow. K'del is only a few steps ahead, and is already there when she sits, just as the candidates start hitting the sands.

From the sands, W'leri comes charging out of the barracks behind the candidates, striding with a purpose until he gets to one side of the sands. His thick arms cross over his chest, his posture as aggressive as the expression he wears; luckily, no more words of encouragement for his charges as they take their places in the semi-circle of candidates.

From the sands, Isidro makes it out onto the sands... and only then does it seem to occur to him that he needs to at least run his fingers through his hair and try to arrange it back into something that looks less slept-on. At which point he does actually survey the galleries, but only briefly. Deep breath, head out towards the eggs, catch a familiar shape of a head: "What are you doing here?" he demands of Casseny, from slightly behind. Bow? Right, bow.

From the sands, Eadgyd is still scowling over her shoulder at Kaelige's proximity, right up until the moment that her feet hit the sand. And then? She nearly stops completely, stumbling her first steps until she finds a spot where she can manage a brief bow. Then it's onwards, with the normally ill-tempered girl looking a bit pale, and maybe not quite so angry to have Kaelige nearby.

L'sha sits up as the Candidates start arriving on the sands, leaning over to get a better look. "Oh, it's starting!"

From the sands, Picking a Path Egg has already begun to crack. The occupant inside fights fiercely against the rooted egg in the Sand as it wobbles around violently, watched patiently by its dam as she waits for her first child.

From the sands, Paislie follows Dee more than anyone else. Once she's on the sands, her hazel eyes look for her sister, but they don't stay there once she's found her. Instead she follows suit, bowing briefly to the clutchparents before her attention turns onto the eggs.

From the sands, Aikane's following the lead of the other, much more experienced candidates, sticking to Casseny like glue, her brown eyes huge in growing trepidition. And then the blast of heat from the Sands hits her. Ugh! Nodding mutely to her fellow white-robe, the southerner bows to the huge dam and sire, then moving off in her bright yellow sandals to stand at Casseny's flank on hot sands.

From the sands, C'stian, standing a polite distance from Lilah, seems uncertain where to watch. This, after all, is a very different hatching for him than those he's attended previously. His attention seems to flick between Eliyaveith, the eggs, and the Candidates. In the end, it's the Candidates he seems to settle on, watching their reactions to the events on the sands more than those events themselves.

Faryn picks her way through the gathering crowd with steady steps, moving until she finds familiar faces, tendering a low "hey" as she passes them. For the moment, she seems to be most focused on finding a place where she can see over the person in front of her. The obvious conclusion is someone short, and she eventually settles unceremoniously behind and to the left of someone with brown hair, and to the right of L'sha, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, and her hands clasped between. "It's less nerve-wracking, being on this end," she observes dryly, to neither in particular; her eyes are on the Sands and the Candidates.

From the sands, The shadows in the Picking a Path Egg continue to shift and grow as cracks spread, linked together by each point of blossomed white. Quickly, however, the egg gives way to rot, falling apart to reveal the first dragonet to break his shell: an auspicious bronze, covered in the same dark shadows as his egg, before he slips away from his shell as if trying to escape before anyone may notice him.

From the sands,

>---< Night's Observant Shadows Bronze >-------------------------------------< 

 He's a darkling bronze, disjointed with youth but with the potential for  
 so much more; despite long legs and a longer tail, he more creeps than    
 truly walks, a low and insectoid scuttle. His wings are longest of all, a 
 dreadful weight to grow into, with webbing that's mottled as smokily as   
 the rest of him but a shade or two darker still. Darkness shadows his     
 muzzle as well, like some long-smoldering mask, but it can't fully hide   
 the gleam of his eyes beneath heavy brows nor the flare of large nostrils 
 seemingly crafted for scenting prey.  The only clearer points about him,  
 and even they are less pale than steeled sharp, are his neckridges--      
 ticked at their points like spines-- and of course his avid hunter's      
 claws.

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

From the sands, Jemizen, having finally caught his breath, is able to take relatively steady strides across the sands as he follows the line of his fellow candidates. He stops to make his bow to the dam and sire, and even before he's standing straight again he reaches behind him for Dee's hand. Grasping it firmly, he looks over his shoulder and flashes her a half-grin that's meant to be reassuring. He takes a deep breath and turns back to the clutch, brown eyes wide and watchful.

From the sands, Kaelige lets the hint of a smirk creep onto his expression at the scowling he's received. But it's as brief as it is thin as the eggs have already begun to crack. He wouldn't stray far from Eadgyd now, though whether that be simply because he ends up there or because he wants to be there goes untold. Blue green eyes leave her to sweep across the semi-circle of white nervousness, before resettling on the eggs- and one that ruptures to reveal a bronze, no less. If he thought luck was any more a thing.. He folds his arms for now, though, quiet in his watch.

From the sands, Dee settles into the curled stagger of candidates with her brother (unsurprisingly) on one side, her hand already reaching to meet his, and Paislie on her other. There are no smiles from the Southern girl, though the hand on Paislie's side is forced to be loose in quiet invitation to the redhead.

From the sands, Casseny breaks her own rule by jerking her head away from the eggs to spot Isidro there; he's snuck up on her, how unusual. She flicks a look up and down Sid, "Breathing," is the quick, dry response. Then, more seriously, "Look ahead." And she does just that, while stepping aside to-- oh. Aikane's there. Lips thinning, Casseny's hands drop to her thighs and press into the robe.

From the sands, A second egg hatches without as much violence or fanfare as its brother. Instead, the Don't Eat the Egg blossoms quietly as petals of its shell part to reveal a brown sitting within, an almost mauve undertone to his goo covered body. He seems as if he's already done this all before, because it is with a quiet capability that he picks his way out of his shell and over to a Hold-bred boy, Impression made as quickly and without fuss as his hatching, while his bronze brother still stalks the Candidates.

Farideh is part of High Reaches' acting Weyrwoman's entourage, though towards the end, taking in the sights while the older goldrider hobnobs with everyone. She eventually seats herself beside Irianke, and cranes her neck, to see over the heads in front. "A bronze-- that's a good sign, right?" she asks the other woman, hazel eyes slanting that way and then quickly back; hatchings are too fast to spare even a lingering glance on anything else.

From the sands, Pasilie jumps when the first hatchling breaks through its shell and her hand finds Dee's almost of its own accord while she stares at the bronze, only glancing at the brown who quickly finds his weyrling.

From the sands, Eadgyd lingers a little closer to Kaelige than she would otherwise, the shaking eggs apparently allowing for some bend in her rules about physical contact. Pale eyes widen as the first egg hatches, spilling a bronze onto the sands. "There you go," she mutters to the teen beside her in the dryest tone her shaky voice can muster. "I've heard that's a good sign. Plenty of bronzes for you, then."

From the sands, A look of relief passes Lilah's expression as those first two eggs hatch perfectly healthy seeming dragonets, her gaze flicking only briefly to C'stian before it now settles with more care onto the sands rather than continuing to watch the galleries.

From the sands, Wrapping of Risk Egg wobbles tentatively as the dragonet inside tests itself against the shell wrapped around it. A tiny sliver of a crack appears, barely visible even when standing near, before the occupant of the egg apparently gives up and lets the egg win, for now.

From the sands, C'stian offers a relieved nod in turn to Lilah at that brief glance, before his attention turns back to the Candidates. Perhaps they've actually managed to put aside their ongoing battles for the duration of the hatching itself.

From the sands, Isidro looks ahead, for a whole ten seconds or so, drawing up on Casseny's other side there. Should he be nervous? He should probably be, especially once there's dragons hatching and everything, but he seems more intent on fussing with the hair again than anything. Oh, for a mirror. "I would hope you're breathing. The alternative would be awkward for everyone. Faranth, that one went quick." Okay, so he's at least noticed more than just the awkward lock of dark hair that doesn't want to sit right on his forehead.

From the sands, Dee's hazel eyes land on Don't Eat the Egg just as its occupant is revealed. Anxiety pinches her brows closer to one another, the worry writ on her face: will this brown find his lifemate on the Sands? She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth for a worry of teeth and gives a squeeze to the hands she holds. The lip is released as brown finds his partner, Dee's eyes closing briefly in silent gratitude for that.

From the sands, Aikane emits a hitched little bleat of fear and surprise as the first eggs cracks and hatches out a bronze, her eyes like saucers, now. You bet she's 'there,' Casseny: only three feet from the other candidate. "I'm sorry..." is squeaked in low soprano to the kind girl she's attached herself to as they almost collide. A brown breaking shell has her twitching, eyeing him for a moment, then returning her gaze to that marauding bronze 'baby.' Gulp.

From the sands, Broken Mirror Egg tilts to one side as the hatchling within shifts. It balances there precariously for a long moment, as if the hatchling within were straining to tilt the entire thing on its side. But it's a struggle that brings no victory yet; no cracks appear, and eventually the egg rights itself once again.

There's some slight shuffling as Celestra moves between the plentiful bodies, eyes darting to and fro as she attempts to keep her sights on the hatching eggs below as well as finding a suitable seat. From the young Harper's lips comes several apologies as she accidentally bumps into those already seated, head dipping before she finally settles. Blue eyes are intent on the white-robed candidates and sudden reveal of the first two dragonets. There's a soft intake of breath, her eyes wide as she watches. Would anybody be able to tell this is her first time watching a Hatching?

From the sands, W'leri starts forward, towards the brown pair that have just Impressed. He is less angry by the time he gets there, motioning for the boy and his dragon to follow his lead off the sands.

From the sands, Kaelige is unmoved at Eadgyd's comments, seeming to see how long perhaps he can stay that still without being forced to shift his weight to save the skin of his feet. "We don't pick." He reminds quietly, the remnants of that previously forgotten smirk staying on to color some tone of amusement in his voice. But his offer as far as words are little, fortunately or unfortunately.

From the sands, Night's Observant Shadows Bronze continues stalking through the shadows of the eggs, searching for something clearly as he studies those Candidates close to each. Yet nothing that he sees has him stopping at any of these Candidates. When one brave young man steps forward in an effort to put himself closer to the bronze, all he receives is a proto-growl that comes out more as half creel from the dragonet before he moves on.

From the sands, Casseny's eyebrow lifts but, as she refuses now to look anywhere but everywhere at the hatching eggs and dragons they make, it's indistinct as to what's caused it. Probably Isidro, though. Teeth begin to slide in, capturing more and more of her lower lip with their hunger. Without visible anxiety on her face, however, she just looks really really concentrated. Lips only loosen for Aikane, quick, but not unmeant, "It's fine. You're fine."

"It is most definitely a good sign," says Irianke in her place between K'del and Farideh. "Beautiful dragonet too. I can only imagine Lilah is feeling immense relief at such an auspicious beginning."

From the sands, Luck In Pretty Pattern Egg is finally wiped away as its shell crumbles and falls apart to reveal a softly colored blue dragonet. He creels with despair to find himself so introduced to the world and outside of his egg, but Eliyaveith crooned reassurance seems to give him the courage to pick himself up and forge his own destiny, now. It is an older girl that he finds, Nasci from Lux's Ledge, who immediately breaks down in tears and answers him, "Natlie. You'll meet her. But first, let's get you fed."

From the sands, Eadgyd gives a halfway-formed roll of her eyes. "Aye, but with that attitude of yours, how could you impress anything but?" is her equally quiet response, less shaky this time. Her hands clench and unclench as she stares out at the wobbling eggs. Lucky that Kael has his arms crossed, or she might actually try to hold his hand. As it is, though, she just shifts awkwardly, standing as close to her fellow candidate as she dares.

From the sands, Dee's tense expression improves with every Impression made, brows incrementally regaining the relaxed space between. After the blue finds his lifemate in Nasci, she seems to have the presence of mind to move her feet a little, to wiggle her shoulders a touch in an effort to reduce the stiffness bred by her concern. The move probably jangles the arms of the people attached, but these things happen.

From the sands, G'vri watches the hatching dragons for different reasons than the candidates, waiting for them to make their Impressions. When that moment happens for Nasci, after giving the new pair a brief privacy to acclimate, he moves toward them to lead them off of the sands.

"A blue!" is her next laughing answer, as Farideh scoots forward on her seat to see better. "A bronze, a brown, and a blue-- none of them--" Her eyes flick to Irianke again, but she doesn't say whatever it is she was about it, instead settling on a nod. "They're all lovely looking. Faranth, I hope they all Impress," is lower, for the weyrwoman's ears only.

From the sands, Oracle Egg trembles. It doesn't rock, nor shiver, but a faint, almost imperceptible shudder runs through it, the whole shell seeming to vibrate for a fraction of a moment.

From the sands, The Broken Mirror egg rocks once again. This time, the iridescent shell cracks and a small green head emerges to peer about curiously. Twisting about, the impulsive little hatchling manages to tip the egg over and ends up on her back for a moment, then twists around until the egg rolls enough to bring her mostly upright. Squirming out the rest of the way, she shakes fragments of shell off herself, then begins to explore the sands.

From the sands,

>---< A Misfit's Perspective Green >-----------------------------------------< 

 The scales of this dragon are a rich, vivid green, but here and there a   
 streak of darker forest green traces along her flank or wings, and a      
 portion of her head and neck are a green so pale as to seem faded.  The   
 effect in sunlight is breathtaking, making her seem almost a gemstone     
 carving of a dragon rather than a living beast.  Unfortunately, her       
 proportions are somewhat less beautiful at present; she has a gawkiness to
 her which almost suggests a clumsiness, as if she hasn't quite grown into 
 her own limbs yet.

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

From the sands, Kaelige watches the bronze hatchling now, more closely then at first broken shell, perhaps for the sake of his quick denial of the boy so bold as to approach him. That draws his lips up even if in the slightest degree, darkly amused by something about the interaction. To Eadgyd's likely appropriate remark, a single shouldered shrug is his return of it, "Anything can happen, aye? A bit unpredictable, this." His indication being the sands themselves, his tone a little mischievous in its own right.

Irianke's look is a little sharp at that, a glance stolen to her side to make sure K'del, in some sort of chat with a wingleader from Ista, has not heard. A hand slips down to pat Farideh's knee and lower words are spoken, "You should go mingle at some point. Get to know some riders from other Weyrs and see if you can find our other weyrlings." But louder, "Oh, lovely green, and did you see that blue Impress?"

From the sands, Dee might be imagining herself an observer, by now, just one with an exceptionally good seat. Her expression tells that she's begun to get lost in the joy of seeing her fellows find their lifemates. A smile gently curves her lips as her eyes range over the candidates, eggs and hatchlings yet on the Sands. The smile only falters briefly when hazel eyes settle briefly on Kaelige, so exposed without his hood and bravado. Her gaze lingers only a moment before hurrying on and back to Night's Observant Shadows Bronze's progress.

From the sands, Isidro finally ends up sticking a finger in his mouth and then using the spit and smoothing the hair to get that curl to sit Just So. Perfect. He gets as distracted by Nasci's impression as anyone, but it might be that he spends more time staring in the direction she got led off in than is strictly appropriate. But then there are more dragons than before, and even he seems to consider this reason to be more attentive.

From the sands, The Forgotten Markings Egg gives away to the touch of the dragonet inside, turning to dust as the cracks expand quickly over the egg. It is a large bronze, who must have been cramped in that egg, that is revealed. He doesn't wait for either his dam or his sire's encouragement, starting with Kaelige as he moves to investigate the Candidates. Unfortunately, he gets too eager as he tries to rise up on his hindquarters to look the young man over; he trips, his claws catching against Kaelige's chest as he does so. It is the Night's Observant Shadows Bronze Hatchling that rushes forward, barreling into his bronze brother's side to push him away from the Candidate. After, he turns back to examine the Candidate himself, choosing him despite the injury.

Yesia's managed to settle very quietly on the outskirts of the Reachian riders, giving them looks more poignant than the ones she gives the eggs. She's outside of them, this is clear, and so she seems a little surprised when someone settles near to her. She even opens her mouth to say something mean, until she realizes she doesn't know the girl. Maybe it's desperation to speak that has her say, "Aren't they beautiful? I didn't get to see, when ours hatched. My Aeaeth was first and she wasn't as lost as that bronze is." A hint of pride, and her gaze shifts back to the Sands without waiting for response.

L'sha beams happily as he watches the dragons Impress their new riders, reminded, as always, of his own Impression. He leans forward again as the green hatches. "Oh, she's beautiful!" His eyes drift around at the faces of the Candidates on the sands, lingering a bit more on the males, then his attention returns to the green.

From the sands, W'leri returns to the sands in time to see one bronze injury Kaelige and get subsequently shoved off by another bronze; his eyebrows are suspended at near impossible heights as he settles, again, on the side of the sands, watching, waiting for the inevitable healer barrage.

Faryn's not the exclaiming sort, but the bronzes small quarrel -- and the candidate caught between them -- is enough to elicit an, "Oh!" and a worried look she shifts between L'sha and the eggs. "Is he moving?" It probably looked worse than it is, but she cranes her neck anyways for a better view before it's obscured by the healers on call.

From the sands, Casseny, with her hands plastered to her thighs, would be a contained little bundle if it weren't for how her limbs stick out so awkwardly. Isidro's motion catches in her periphery and she tempts a glance; it travels even further, past him, to see the bronze. Kaelige, injury. There's a scuffing noise as Casseny's weight shifts in the sand, towards the candidate-marked-rider. It's a small move, that never quite sees fruition; it could as much be seen as a jerk towards Isidro, whom she eyes, briefly but deeply, before looking to the other eggs.

From the sands, The large bronze drags himself quickly away from Ka'ge and his dragon, practically huffing up at his dam as if expecting Eliyaveith to intervene. She only rumbles a soft noise, at once forgiving and encouraging, though the hatchling doesn't seem impressed with that. Perhaps the young man that he turns to next will help, because in an instant there is the tell-tale signs of Impression as Y'tob throws a glare in the other bronze pair's direction before being led off the Sands.

From the sands, Jemizen's eyes follow the hatchlings across the sands, the corners of his mouth twitching up in brief smiles as Impressions are made. As his arm gets a slight shaking from Dee's rolling shoulders, he turns to look at her, then follows her gaze to Kaelige. Eyebrows furrow with a mixture of concern and confusion, and he looks back and forth between the two other candidates for a moment, giving Dee's hand a squeeze. As the newly-hatched bronze rears up on Kaelige, he gives a sharp intake of breath, watching with wide eyes as the two little bronzes Impress.

From the sands, Paislie is ever watchful, possibly a little terrified, and she gasps when the newly hatched bronze rears up against Kaelige. She looks at Dee, though, like she expects the younger girl to be able to tell whether everything is okay.

From the sands, Eadgyd laughs, and for once the sound holds only a hint of bitterness. "It's not that unpredictable, I think." Her attention is drawn to the sands as Broken Mirror Egg hatches a lovely green, and her teeth dig throughfully into her lower lip. Maybe. But musings on that subject are rather hastily discarded as a bronze draws too close and those claws rake across Kaelige's chest. She jumps back with a yelp of fear, only to draw forward seconds later with a genuinely distressed cry of, "Kael!" But it seems her concerns aren't needed, as the second bronze in front of the boy stops Eadgyd in her tracks, freezing her as she goes to reach for Kaelige.

From the sands, Ka'ge's quick reflexes are bound by being surrounded by other candidates and the very small distance of which the large bronze comes at him with. There's the short, suggestive moment where one of the boy's hands reaches for the larger hatchling when it's a feeling not in his head that has him suddenly staggered back, a hand over the not-so-white robe over his chest. Glazed eyes become moreso, his weight falling to a knee as his other hand falls to the darkened, shadowed head. When he does look up again at those whirling eyes, it's with a forced grin, an agreement of something said. Too agreeing. "Yes, Zymadiath."

From the sands, Dee gasps audibly when her eyes fall on the dragon laying claim to Kaelige. Concern soars in her eyes and expression. Her hands pull from Jemizen and Paislie to take a step toward him before she realizes she's done it. She stares at the bronze-- no, bronzes, blinking away moisture that must surely be sweat and not another salty water. There's no time now to think about what it means, only to watch for the healers. There will be healers, won't there? The candidate's eyes flick briefly to Casseny as if she might will the girl to help somehow before the reinforcements arrive.

From the sands, It is a healer that rushes forward from the galleries to attend to that injury, already on hand in cases such as these. There are quick, quiet questions for Fort's newest bronzerider, before he will help him from the Sands.

Some of Farideh's enchantment with everything wanes under Irianke's suggestion, but she nods quickly and sinks back against her chair. "I think I saw Yesia earlier and maybe L'zon," she answers, quietly; by then there's another Impression, a violent one at that, and her hands ball into fists in her lap, evident of her anxiety over the occurrence.

From the sands, Oracle Egg tips forward and stays there, still, for just a moment, before its very top begins to crumble and a dark green nose pokes through, the petite, lithe form that follows widening the hole in her shell little by little, until she leaves it behind, half-intact, save for the flecks of earthy tones that litter the Sands. Her first point of focus is not the world around her, but the fragment of shell on her right paw. Yes, she has to clean that away /right now/.

From the sands, C'stian inhales once, sharply, as the events of a hatching lead to an injury once more. He remains where he is, leaving the healer from the galleries to tend to Ka'ge. His place is right where he is, after all. His posture has stiffened slightly nonetheless, as if at a remembered pain.

From the sands,

>---< A Dream That You Wish Green >------------------------------------------< 

 She's so small, sinuous, a dragonet green as grass at night; her large    
 dark-lit eyes hearken to evening more than light. Some old flame might    
 have charred her here and there, sharpening the sweet, sharp curves of her
 ash-dusted claws and softening the delicate wisps of her gauzy wings even 
 as it darkens. She might move with even more swift confidence if it       
 weren't for the disfigurement that catches that left wing's mainsail,     
 adhering it to the nearest spar. She could be a delicate, dancing shadow, 
 her willowy form carried by tiny, nimble paws.

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

Fascination is clear in Celestra's eyes, wide and bright as they are as she watches the hatching dragonets escape and make their Impressions. There's a sharp intake of breath at the squabble below and then a distraction from someone beside her. Surprise registers in her expression as she turns to look at the younger girl, though it is quickly replaced by a small smile. "Yes... they are." she breathes, her voice a soft lilting soprano. Slender hands grip at her thighs as she returns her attention to the hatching dragons and Candidates below.

From the sands, There is something that might be concern, or sympathy, that sees Lilah's dark gaze going towards C'stian at his inhaled breath. But the hatching goes on, and Eliyaveith does not seem at all concerned.

From the sands, Ka'ge at first lifts an arm to wave away the help that arrives, but the arm shortly becomes consenting enough as he relieves himself to the instruction and pressed destination. Granted, the path would be made only slowly with the briefest of doubt that the bronze, his bronze, may be left behind.

From the sands, Ka'ge has left.

From the sands, That warped, golden egg finally shows some life, starting to warp further as the dragonet inside struggles against its confines. As the Captain's Lucky Egg wobbles, it sinks deeper and deeper into the sand, as if it may drown in trying to free itself from its prison.

From the sands, Once again, the occupant of the Wrapping of Risk Egg tries its hand at freeing itself from the shell as the egg wobbles around on the sands erratically. Whether that dragonet knows that the cracks continue to spread outside the shell, the dragonet continues flailing inside.

L'sha shakes his head a bit, murmuring under his breath, "Tell us their names, for Faranth's sake! Who taught these candidates, honestly?" He gasps as Ka'ge is mauled, then another gasp, happier, as the boy Impresses. The grin reappears as another green hatches.

Mayhap sensing some of Farideh's popped balloon of emotions, Irianke's hand to the girl's knee turns into an arm slipped about her shoulder for a quick, mollifying hug. "It's not a punishment. You can find us later at the party and I'll introduce you to some of your counterparts at other Weyrs," promises the older woman, before turning to listen to something K'del says, then following his commentary to look at what's happening on the sands. "Niahvth thinks she might outgrow that, that green there."

From the sands, Dee's lip is chewed and chewed in the (for her) fraught moments that follow the approach of the healers before Ka'ge leaves the sands with his new lifemate. Though she looks after them as she goes, she has a quick glance back to the green-- no, greens now on the sands. She rocks back the step she took, seeking to reclaim the hands she released on either side, taking a breath. Those nearest her might hear her murmur, "Be open. Be open," that must be a message to herself.

From the sands, Aikane feels rather alone at this moment, aside from kind Casseny, and suddenly her homesickness rears its head, and tears begin to spill down her rounded cheeks. Brown eyes lift and scan the tiers of the galleries above, searching desperately for a familiar face. And then there's the collision of the baby 'titans' out there, and the teens eyes jerk back down to the scene in shock and fear to notice Kaelige's wounding by the dragonet that seems to choose him. See Aikane; see Aikane try to grab poor Casseny in fear. Her grasp is unintentionally harsh, if it connects. And tears? There's more of them, silently cascading. More dragons breaking shell are reason for her to start shivering, despite the heat.....which is starting to be felt through the soles of thick, yellow sandals.

From the sands, A Misfit's Perspective Green continues to explore, as if she has all the time in the world to find her match. The gawky green hatchling peers intently at the pieces of shell scattered around the sands until, with a defiant little squeak, she pounces on one large fragment. She promptly ends up sprawled in the sand when it proves too fragile to bear her up.

From the sands, Eadgyd appears relieved as healers descend to assist the injured Ka'ge, but relief is all there is. There's no real excitement for his impression, no joy in the fact that his dragon has found him. She remains unmoved on that part. It's all just relief, until his departing form reminds her that she's very much alone now. Eadgyd darts a glance from side to side, searching for someone who she wouldn't mind standing beside.

From the sands, Isidro is not managing to keep this relaxed thing going so very well so far. Thankfully, he manages not to be having a complete breakdown. He does manage to notice the girl on the other side of Casseny, there. "It's... fine. See? Everything's going to be all right." Reassuring someone else: his entire purpose in this. Not trying to find the words to take the tightness out of his shoulders.

From the sands, Lilah's lips immediately twist as the green hatches, a step abruptly taken forward before the goldrider catches herself. Instead, she looks to C'stian, then to the galleries, searching. (Maybe for Farideh~)

From the sands, Casseny is just a point on that dashing healer's path towards helping. This curls her lip, troubles her eyes, and they remain darkened when she diligently turns back, feet forward, to watch the other births. One hand has stopped pressing and tightened, white cloth clenched, bunched, between her knuckles and-- she's jolted by Aikane getting a good sized grab on her. Casseny pedals forward, digging her heel reflexively in the sand to stop them both. Blue eyes jump to the other candidate, uncharacteristically wild and unfocused-- or too focused. Candidates, and her toes, and dragons and eggs and Isidro's talking. With a stiff shake of her head, Casseny plants a hand on Aikane's shoulder, but she can find no words.

From the sands, A brown dragon is revealed as he strips himself out of the Luck Be An Egg slowly, his shell falling to the sands around him. That brown takes a moment to lift his paw to delicately lick off egg pieces and goo, then the next. He starts on his back paws before Eliyaveith interrupts with a soft rumble towards her son, which is met with a huff before he deigns to go explore the Candidates. For as much time as he was willing to take on himself, he quickly chooses a boy from Smithcraft.

From the sands, Paislie watches as Kael is assisted by the healers, eyes lingering there perhaps longer than they ought to when there are still plenty of claws on the sands. She wraps her arms around herself as she finally glances toward Dee, trying to offer an encouraging, but mostly nervous, smile before her hazel eyes are seeking out the nearest hatchlings.

"That sounds fine," Farideh murmurs, but her attention is still caught up in the fast-paced hatch-and-Impress game going down below. She physically stiffens when the green hatches, her eyes going wide and knuckles going white. "Are you-- is she sure? What she's--" She sounds miserable, when she asks, and (purposefully?) doesn't look at the goldrider on the sands, instead keeping her focus on the delicate green.

"You'll do fine," is K'del's contribution to the conversation between High Reachian goldriders, leaning around Irianke so that he can glance at Farideh, his expression-- well, not warm, but encouraging, at least. Of the dragon, he seems less sure, gaze flicking back in that direction once or twice before, carefully, "Stay hopeful. Niahvth may well be right. Babies are resilient."

From the sands, Tangled Web Egg gives a sudden, sharp shake, then goes absolutely still again. Nothing to see here. Move along. Now.

From the sands, Jemizen releases the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding once healers make it to Ka'ge and the new bronzerider is able to leave the sands with his lifemate. He shuffles closer to Dee, nudging her slightly with his elbow even as he squeezes her hand yet again. "S'all right. Going okay." His reassurances are bolstered by the sunny smile he flashes at her before turning to watch the other hatchlings' progress across the sands.

From the sands, The Captain's Lucky Egg starts to shiver and crack under the pressure of the dragonet inside, a whirling gaze peering out from the darkness of a hole in that opens as part of the shell flakes off. Whatever is seen of the sands and Candidates, there is a sudden burst of energy against the shell that reveals her to the world. She is tiny, yes, but it's with a tenacity that the little dragonet draws herself up to take in the newly revealed world around her.

From the sands,

>---< Tenacity In A Tiny Gold >----------------------------------------------< 

 This tiny queen, at once delicate and earthy, might never be a fearsome   
 creature; she's so light and lithely built, rippled over with warm wheaten
 gold from her slim muzzle to the slender tail that makes up most of her   
 length. Brighter, purer gold highlights the ridges of large, disarmingly  
 curious eyes, even as her wide wingsails' translucent swirl unites airy   
 sunshine with the potential for darker turbulence. Only once more do those
 soft grains of color diverge: in her small paws, colored a copper verging 
 on fallen leaves-- or old and rusted blood.

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

From the sands, W'leri sees that second brown Impression and makes his way over, taking his time like it's a walk in the park; he arrives at the boy's side, tapping his shoulder, and redirecting them both off the sands.

Yesia says, "Oh, her wing," with a pursing of the lips for the wispy green on the Sands. It's tasteless, her next, but maybe without many people as an audience to her words - indeed Celestra might be the only one close enough to suss them out - there will be few repercussions. "I wonder why they keep hatching oddly, here. I hope she'll be able to fly. It would be dreadful if she couldn't." But her concern is washed away, and quickly, with, "Oh, she's so small," for the gold, "and so beautiful!"

From the sands, Dee's chin tilts toward her brother as he draws a little closer, returning the squeeze of her hand. "I know. He's strong," she'll admit of Ka'ge now before looking back to the greens, as if Jem had meant the boy, not the dragons. "They have to find someone, Jem. They have to." She glances nervously toward Paislie on her other side and returns the smile intended for her.

From the sands, C'stian's attention is finally on the sands as much as the Candidates, as more and more of the eggs reveal their occupants. Despite the hint of tension that's settled into his shoulders and back after Ka'ge's injury, he remains standing calmly in place. He seems to relax slightly at yet another successful Impression, and glances over at Lilah once again.

From the sands, Eadgyd seems to finally give up upon the possibility of finding a hand to hold - or even a body to stand beside - as her gaze sweeps out toward the sands again just in time to catch the little brown's impression. There's a flash of disappointment, especially as she scans the rest of the sands and spies only greens. Greens... and gold. Pale eyes go wide, and she darts a glance down the line to eye up the female candidates with a look of disapproval.

From the sands, Aikane can't find any words either, for Casseny or Isidro, or for those 'crazed' dragonets hunting them down. She tries to staunch her fear, but the tears generated by it continue as the teen staggers a little from Casseny's movement, the tries to wedge herself between the supportive boy and girl. Her gaze jerks up to the galleries again, lurching around wildly...and suddenly finds a loudly-dressed pair of tall, statuesque humans in the VIP seats. Mother and father! They're watching their offspring avidly between bouts of noting other eggs crackings and Impressions. The grip Aikane has on Casseny starts to knead in her extreme of emotion, a harsher squeeze let off when the little gold breaks shell, and her parents (and others) cheer. Yes, she's one of 'those' that Eadgyd likely is disapproving of.

From the sands, "Oh thank faranth," is exhaled actually audibly to C'stian, the goldrider actually speaking to C'stian as that gold breaks shell. Lilah doesn't have anything further to say, though, as the one naggling worry ceases.

K'del, despite himself, lets out a little exhale of relief as the little queen hatches. SEE, LILAH?!

From the sands, A Dream That You Wish Green just has to see /everything/. She hesitates, unsure of where to begin, but then she moves, no mind paid to the quirk of her wing, and carefully goes forth to discover the world, focus roaming first to unhatched eggs, given thoughtful study, until she decides to approach the white-robed folk.

From the sands, Dee only accidentally meets Eadgyd's eye and disapproving look. Her lashes flutter as she looks back to the Sands and it's newest occupant. If her hands get crushingly tight on Jemizen's briefly, well... She turns her head to look at Paislie, and then back to the sands, turning her eyes toward the greens.

"I know," Farideh returns, to K'del, and this time without any rancor or sullenness coloring her voice, even if her face is a little too tight to be deemed natural in the moment; it softens, and pales, at his mention of the green. She's frowning at the sands by the time she says, "Are you sure? Can they just-- her wing-- it's-- like that?" No, she might not like the bronzerider, but she at least acknowledges that he's knowledgeable about some things.

From the sands, The sea-colored shell of Sailor's Hope Egg parts swiftly in two to reveal a blue dragonet, the hatchling holding the same vast ocean in the tones of his hide. Impression is made even as he tumbles out of the egg, a boy standing close surprised by the sudden appearance of the blue and then overwhelmed by the dragonet's choice.

From the sands, The relieved -- and perhaps slightly triumphant -- nod of agreement that C'stian offers Lilah in return is the sort he hasn't given her in a Turn, a warmth to his look far more reminiscent of their onetime weyrling friendship than their animosity of recent memory.

From the sands, Casseny's attempting her greatest effort to not let her discomfort at Aikane's hold show through; so maybe she's bracing her lips extra hard and her back's ramrod straight. She's just being supportive, clearly. Her fingers on the other candidate become the slightest, halting, massage. "Shhh," she finally murmurs, an almost hum, with no spark of trying to shame Aikane for her tears, only make sure she's semi-ish-focused. Baring that-- no, even with-- Casseny doubles her already intense look-out on the sands, watching more notably for claws coming in the other girl's direction. Her eyes momentarily jump to Isidro and her eyebrows raise in a semi-forced humored camaraderie.

From the sands, Paislie is busy looking at the hatchlings, one hand lifted up toward her mouth so she can chew unconsciously, anxiously on her thumb's nail while the baby dragons make their choices. Only briefly does she seek out Lilah again, but not for her attention, only to see her expression and get some sense of how she's doing.

From the sands, A Misfit's Perspective Green finally finds her feet once again, extricating herself from the remains of the egg she tripped over. As she shakes the bits of shell off, she seems to notice the Candidates, and hurries over to examine them with just as much curiosity as the shards of shell. One after another is rejected as she makes her way down the line, and then she abruptly settles down at one boy, gazing up expectantly at him.

It's a bit overwhelming, for Celestra, as the constant activity below leaves little room for distractions. It's her first hatching and this Harper doesn't want to miss a single second! Those blue eyes of hers stay wide as dragonet after dragonet escapes their shells to meet their lifemate down in the sands. Her ears do catch Yesia's next words though and she turns to look at the younger with a quizzical look. Not be able to fly? But there's mumurs of a gold dragonet and her eyes dart to the little gold. A soft gasp escapes at the little one's features. "She is beautiful..." Celestra murmurs, having no other words in her arsenal to describe it for the moment.

K'del takes in a deep breath, bypassing his relief over the young queen in order to focus upon Farideh's question. His gaze slides past Irianke, focusing on her for just a moment, and then he says to Farideh, "There was a green at High Reaches, some turns back, with a wing-- not quite like that, but somewhat like. The dragonhealers worked with her, and she flies all right now. It is possible. I don't think Rhaelyn would've stood for Amareth not flying, if it were even remotely possible."

From the sands, The Wrapping of Risk Egg finally transforms into something more, a blue dragonet that is revealed from the wrapping of pieces of shell. For a moment, the hatchling just stands there blinking tiredly, but then he curls back up into the bed of egg and shell to-- doze off?

From the sands, Eadgyd shakes her head, apparently determining that none of these candidates are ones she'd like to see possibly in charge of the Weyr someday. But she is no more interested in claiming that title for herself, instead determinedly keeping her focus on the two greens. There's a nod of acknowledgement on her part as the first of the two greens makes her selection, which leaves the young woman focused on the second. It's only now that she seems to notice the trouble with its wing, and her lips pull back in a grimace.

From the sands,

>---< Moon's Reflected Magic Blue >------------------------------------------< 

 Big, big eyes are all the brighter for their depthless indigo setting,    
 while nearly as expressive are the headknobs that like to tilt this way   
 and that with the dragonet's every mood. Dark without being cold, he's    
 slender but short-limbed in youth; ungainly paws contrast in size to the  
 point of comedy, leaving his knees and wings smudged with turquoise as    
 though he'd tripped and trailed their edges in so much starry light. That 
 light clarifies at the tip of his tail: no longer a galaxy but his very   
 own crescent moon.

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

Farideh releases a long-held breath, and shoots K'del a glance from around Irianke; an unsure one, but a glance all the same. "If it's possible, we can only hope for the best. Weyrleader, sir," she says, politely, with a warmer, "Irianke," and then she's standing, moving to do as she was earlier encouraged and

From the sands, I'dro could not pass for one who has any reason whatsoever to be interested in the gold, but who doesn't gawk at something like that? For just a moment, after which point he has to shrug at Casseny. "I wish," he admits, voice a little hushed, "that they wouldn't linger so long, after... after..." After what? A look between the greens. A look at one of the greens, who is, well, right there, suddenly, suddenly, something. "I'dro, I guess--no, that's wrong. Your name. Right? It's supposed to be Nasmaeth." Suddenly nothing else worth the gawking at all.

From the sands, Dee's eyes move away from Eadgyd when it becomes apparent the girl isn't looking back her way and she catches sight of the Wrapping of Risk Egg's transformation in her next breath, gasping. She leans up onto the balls of her feet as if she might walk to the blue herself, only then she doesn't (of course) anchored as she is.

From the sands, Tenacity In A Tiny Gold does not leave the shards of her former shell, using them as part cover as her whirling gaze sweeps the sands and the Candidates on them with a regard that is at once regal, befitting her station, and interested. She receives the same encouraging noises from her dam as the others, and she responds, though she still does not approach the white-robed figures as instead she draws close to the divider between galleries and sands to keep a distance between her and the Candidates.

K'del opens his mouth, looking wholly as though there's more he'd like to say to Farideh-- but she's doing what she was told to do, and this is a public place and a dozen other reasons, even if whatever it was was something possible-- and so he simply nods, instead, before turning his attention back upon the sands.

From the sands, Jemizen's eyes grow wide as the gold hatches, and he unconsciously emits a low, impressed whistle as she makes her appearance. He smiles broadly at Dee as she fairly crushes his hand, but doesn't seem too pressed about it, such is his relief that the warped egg's occupant has hatched a healthy queen. As Impressions happen with little incident around him, Jem's earlier nervousness melts away and he rocks back and forth on his feet, smiling his patented sunny smile. He follows Dee's eyes to the newly-hatched blue and echoes her gasp.

From the sands, Back on the sands and reflexively seeking out his brother's face, G'vri isn't quite as on the ball to catch when that little green Impresses one of the more familiar candidates. He even hesitates for a moment before he moves to approach the new pair, offering a smile that's more professional than personal. "This isn't so surprising," he offers the weyrling, slightly more personal than the smile. "Congratulations. Whenever you're ready, I'll show you the way so you can feed her." There's a gesture in that direction to get started.

From the sands, The New Year's Blessing Egg twitches and goes still for several minutes, again and again repeating the process until it rolls from it's place revealing a large crack on the underside. In another instant a green muzzle and claws pry open the egg enough for the dragon inside to break free. She shakes herself carefully, snorting egg goop from that elegant muzzle.

From the sands, Casseny's finger massage on Aikane transforms into a fast patter as the girl notes the green-- her head turns sharply as Isidro repeats himself. Now, when her lips twitch, it's with happiness she bites firmly down on. Her hungry teeth maintain not so much pure mirth as a completely inappropriate motherly pride.

From the sands,

>---< Vaporous Saccharine Green >--------------------------------------------< 

 At first glance, this lithe creature is a being of contrasts, the shadowy,
 midnight shade that envelops her well-proportioned form one that defines  
 the beginnings of her slim muzzle, steady paws, and both the very edges of
 her broad, brave shoulders and sails, to the tip of her tail, but this is 
 all the darkness that is allowed to encroach upon her. Where darkness     
 ends, light immediately springs to life, the brush and dance of vivid     
 emerald, jade and prasiolite greens sweeping across her, twisting and     
 twining as they go, highlighting her supple figure and the smoothness of  
 hide over well-defined muscle. Aquamarine and blue topaz possess her      
 generous wingsails, claiming them so securely that, when wings are spread 
 wide, she might, for just an instant, be mistaken for a blue.

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

From the sands, The A Dream That You Wish Green has investigated as much as she possibly can, due care and attention paid to the female Candidates before her, little interest shown in the boys, and now she stops absolutely still for moment after moment. Then, with a new certainty, her little paws flying over sand, she darts over to the angular girl with the dark hair and only /just/ manages to reach a halt in-front of her in time, wings flared and front paws lifting as though to embrace her.

From the sands, The gawky green hatchling -- Nasmaeth -- has only eyes for I'dro now, pacing around him in a curious circle, full of far more excited energy than a newborn should have as she stares up at him.

From the sands, Dee's eyes are sliding now among the hatchlings moving on the Sands - a smile for Isidro's Impression, and one for the newest green. She's squeezing hands again but stepping a little to relieve the stiffness of her frame. "Paislie," she murmurs to the other girls, "look at them," as if she hadn't been, the brunette's tone one of admiration. Is she open now? She must be-- at least a little, and yet she seems to be watching and waiting for the Impressions to come, not looking for her own.

From the sands, Tangled Web Egg shivers and, as it twists in its shallow cradle of sand, cracks begin to run along all of those dark, web-like lines all at once, slim breaks in its shell rushing around it faster and faster until they embrace the whole egg and it shatters in a single, sudden blast, leaving the flash and slice of copper claws the first sighting of the dangerous-looking green creature who emerges from the wreckage.

From the sands,

>---< More Than They Made Me Green >-----------------------------------------< 

 This dragonet has /claws/. They're as yet large even for her size, a true 
 and vibrant copper that contrasts the lush rainforest green of her hide.  
 The copper's echoed in the longitudinal stripes that slash along her      
 sides, like so many beautiful scars, and re-echoes in the inverted        
 triangles above each uptilted eye. Those eyes are most often fiercely     
 watchful, and somehow hungry even when she's well-fed. Her muzzle is long 
 and tapering, and so is her sleek frame with its predator's coiled gait.  
 As for her wings, as they branch out from strong shoulders, their         
 rainforest mottlings obscure each shift from spar to sail; she's one to   
 hold them a handsbreadth away from her flanks, the better to take up that 
 much more space.

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

From the sands, The Vaporous Saccharine Green seems to be in her element as Candidates watch her and her movements between groups of white-robed figures, lending to the inspection of those available. Finally, though, all good things must come to an end. It is as if she already chose the girl with dark blonde hair and blue-green eyes some time ago, but now she makes her desire known with a stretch of her neck towards her.

From the sands, Paislie looks at Dee first, then at the hatchlings again. "One of them will be yours. I'm sure of it." She says it as though that's what the other girl had been hoping to hear more than because she seems sure of the words.

L'sha cheers for the new green pair! He stands to get a better look at the young man who Impressed. "Hey, he's kinda cute." He looks around at the other dragonets on the sands. "So many pretty greens in this clutch! Even that one with the odd wing." He takes his seat again, attention focused on the sands.

From the sands, Ead does dart her gaze back to Dee once, but only when the other girl is safely not focused in her direction. Her lips twist momentarily into a scowl, although what it is about the other girl that bothers her isn't clear. Then it's sands-ward again, her eyes find that newly hatched blue with a spark of interest. A compliment is on the tip of her tongue, when that eager green comes dashing in her direction. She moves to step back, away from the danger of those claws, when whirling eyes meet hers and she's blinded. "I-" The girl blinks furiously. "Ead." That's the name that comes to her lips first, as stunned as she is. Her head gives a little shake, as though to rid itself of something only she can hear. "Caidelyth. You're-" She lapses into silence again, unable to manage more.

From the sands, W'leri, getting into his role now, makes a direct beeline for the newly Impressed Ead and her green lifemate. "C'mon, let's go, over this way," he drawls, pausing long enough to get their attention, before leading the way off the sands.

With Farideh gone, Irianke relaxes a touch, though she keeps the aura of competent Weyrwoman about her, for the most part. The role of unimpeachable character and mentor is now gone. "The hatchlings, on a whole, look fine. Can you tell if your friend is relaxed now about it?"

From the sands, The Carved in Luck Egg continues to inadvertently bury itself a little more as the life inside struggles to emerge, the webwork of cracks growing in length, depth, and number over its surface. Finally, the dragonet inside can take no more of this game, and punches a sand-dusted nose through the shell...quickly followed by the rest of the Elegant Eminent Green's larger, gawky body. BUGLE! I'm here; see me and rejoice!

From the sands,

>---< Elegant Eminent Green >------------------------------------------------< 

 Even as a hatchling, this green is almost exquisite looking, her limbs    
 gracefully long yet well-balanced that lend a regal impression to the way 
 she moves. Her jawline is chiseled yet sharp, held on the refined length  
 of neck given this dragonet. Misted fog slides over the jungled green of  
 her hide, turning translucent at wings that are almost oversized and yet  
 holding a deeper touch of gemstone on her underbelly.

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

From the sands, I'dro has to turn with her, pirouette as it were, in place on the hot sand, but who cares about that now? Who cares about anything else? For at least a moment. And then there's the real world intruding, but he turns to G'vri beaming. Perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect everything. "Shut up," cheery as all get out. A throat-clearing, and a not at all sorry-sounding, "Sir." To the dragon, "This way," and a gesture at her like any gentleman ought to for a lady.

From the sands, Dee's "No," in answer to Paislie must be involuntary and she looks contrite the moment it comes out. It draws her hazel eyes down to the sand under her feet only, silently chiding herself. She returns her eyes to the hatchlings because that's what one does when one is on the Sands, murmuring her words with renewed resolve, "Be open, be open."

From the sands, Aikane gasps as the starry blue chooses one of her 'supporters,' the girl staggering back suddenly away from I'dro and squeezing poor Casseny harshly again as the two Impress. Blink. Saucer eyes take in how it all happens between the new pair, and when she sees that the boy is unharmed....well, there's less nascent terror than before, thank Faranth. "C-congratulations," is peeped out to the boy before the southerner's eyes lift to her parents again, and find them staring, frowning at her, then moving pointedly to the golden hatchling. Concentrate on -her-, you silly child. Suddenly, guilt and shame cascade over Aikane, and the tears slow as the girl slightly loosens her fierce grasp on Casseny, and moves her eyes to the golden hatchling. Sniffle.

From the sands, I'dro has left.

From the sands, Considering the last hatching, it is no surprise that Eliyaveith watches her daughter with attentive concern as the Tenacity In A Tiny Gold Hatchling approaches none of the Candidates, for all that she watches them from a distance. Yet for a moment, her swirling gaze locks on a dark-haired Southerner and Impression is made even with the length of sand between them. Only after does she move to her chosen girl expectantly.

K'del can't help himself and laughs, head shaking. "I'm not sure Lilah ever truly relaxes. I'm sure she's relieved, though. I can't see her expression from here." He's staring at Lilah with too much focus to immediately notice the Impression of the new queen; it's only later, as others begin to draw attention to it that he adds, "Wonder if it'd be good for Farideh to meet with Fort's new goldrider at some point."

From the sands, Casseny lets her hand linger on the edge of Aikane's shoulder, not very long. A subtle bit of empathy in her eyes is blasted away by the heat of the sands, and the heavy breath she puffs out to check the tickling lay of stray sands coming out of her runner's tail. That expression sobers up when the gold makes a beeline, away; her eyes shift knowingly to Aikane but, with her hands to herself, the girl is suddenly sans-comfort to give.

From the sands, Nasmaeth looks up at G'vri, then her rider, then back to G'vri. And then I'dro gestures off the sands, and the eager little gawky green hurries ahead... but only a few steps, as if she's not quite ready yet to get /too/ far from her other half, before she stops and turns back to make absolutely certain he /is/ coming too.

From the sands, It is finally time to throw out the One Pair, Many Months Egg, as no amount of washing could ever truly recover it from the cracks that have spread across its shell. As the shell breaks away, it reveals a light brown who skitters away from the broken remains of his egg as quickly as possible, as if it has developed a stink. It takes him some searching before he finally finds a Weyr-bred girl who is too busy watching the dangerous green to see him coming.

From the sands, Nasmaeth has left.

From the sands, Dee's knees make to buckle under her when caught in the rainbow regard to the gold suddenly in front of her. Jem's hand is the only thing that slows her descent onto her knees as she sees things that are not in the physical here and now. There are tears on her cheeks by the time she blinks with a bizarre combination confusion and clarity. "Taeliyth," could be a question but is just barely not. "Are you--" sure? She uses her brother's hand to haul herself up and then reaches a hand tentatively toward the-- her dragon.

From the sands, More Than They Made Me Green moves smoothly away from the remnants of her egg, other hatchlings and any stray Candidates avoided, her concentration absolute. She has a goal in mind and no others are needed to show her the way. None are able to distract her, her purposeful steps sure and steady.

From the sands, W'leri dodges an exiting pair and comes up short, swearing under his breath, as he notes the sudden rush of Impressions. He strides towards the latest green pair and then leads them off with only a couple words; hopefully, not more W'leri-esque encouragement.

From the sands, Aikane looks both surprised and crestfallen -- and relieved -- as that little gold chooses Eadgyd, the southerner allowing a tentative, twitchy smile for the harsh girl that greeted her when she first arrived in the barracks, last night. Reflexively, eyes flick up to her parents again, and can't help but notice their cool expressions. Failure. Even when Casseny relieves herself of Aikane's harsh grasp, the southerner doesn't react with anything but downcast eyes and a flush of crimson shame across her already blotchy cheeks. She doesn't catch the empathy her fellow candidate showers her with, nor the continued hatching of other dragonets.

From the sands, Taeliyth seems very sure, since she is not moving from Dee, meeting the hand with a stillness as she watches her chosen dragonrider. She pays little attention to Jemizen near at hand, or the rest of the Sands now.

From the sands, Elegant Eminent Green gains her feet with a dignity and grace at odds with her entrance into the world, and promptly.....stands still. Oversized, red eyes and her refined head are the only things that seem to move as the female sizes up the white-robed choices from a regally-acceptable distance. It takes her some time, but once her mind is made up, no interference will be brooked along her slow, stately, and only occasionally tripping path towards the last-minute Southern born candidate's feet. Once there, the green imperiously stares up into Aikane's eyes, then lets loose a loud creel of hunger....plus a headbutt of the girl's shins that sends the southerner sprawling on her rear.

From the sands, Once G'vri has seen I'dro off the sands, handing him off to the weyrlingmasters overseeing feeding, he's watching the remaining hatchlings. Of course his attention is drawn the gold. But more importantly his attention is drawn toward Dee. "Look at you, Doll," he says, sounding properly impressed. "If you ladies will follow me, I'll show you where you can get some food." The bronzerider gestures before he turns to lead them off.

From the sands, Casseny enjoys having her hands to herself, to smooth over her robe along the sides of her thighs. Fix her hair, wipe off the grease of other people... but as Aikane stands there, seemingly lost, the healer glides her weight forward-- and then takes a strong step backwards. There's a green. Her pride is somewhat tempered, but no less present; it also takes a slight backseat when Aikane goes tumbling. Casseny's supporting hand is basically a ghost. She doesn't want to interfere. She can't help herself.

From the sands, Dee swallows, nodding at the dragon. The focus of her eyes is very much on the dragon's eyes and not... well, the rest of her. The rest of her that is gold. Perhaps not enough green for all her small stature. Her eyes are drawn away to G'vri as he approaches, the hand that touched Taeliyth brushing the tears from her cheeks before moving to follow, glancing uncertainly at the dragon as is she might not be coming along.

From the sands, Dee has left.

"Well, that's an interesting choice. Send a goldrider to Southern, get a new one from Southern." Irianke notes Dee's Impression.

From the sands, Taeliyth has left.

From the sands, Jemizen's jaw drops just as his sister very nearly drops beside him. "Dee!" is exclaimed brightly and suddenly tearily as the Impression is made. He helps pull her back up and even manages to throw an arm around her shoulders in a quick attempt at a hug as the little gold makes her approach. He takes a slow step backward, and now that his hands are bereft of other hands to hold, he reaches up to quickly wipe away those few tears that had managed to escape his brown eyes as he beams, watching Dee and Taeliyth as they leave the sands.

From the sands, If he could, it is likely that Moon's Reflected Magic Blue would sleep in longer, as tired as he made himself in getting free of the shell of his egg. But the drive to bond and an empty stomach wakes him after too short a time, and he scrambles to his feet to begin exploring the Candidates and Sands.

From the sands, Aikane is.....suddenly on her rear? How-what-when-WHY?! There's was in impression of whirling eyes for a moment, and then, boom! Rear, meet hot sand! A short screech of surprise and fear echo around the hatching cavern, and then cease just as quickly as brown eyes meet faceted red ones. Impression! Why does Aikane look so utterly flabberghasted, then? She's not even reaching for her new lifemate, who's stepping forward and now looking down at her fetally-curled chosen one.

Yesia's roving eyes have moved behind her, specifically at the cheer for I'dro's impression, but lingering for L'sha's assessment of the greens on the sand. "That one's too sharp," she says of the one with overlarge claws and fearsome countenance, but it is really the gold Impression that she's watching, and she's not exactly subtle when she lets her eyes rove around for Farideh, then back to the new Fortian goldrider, for comparison. Whatever her conclusion, she's not lingering on it; there are still so many greens to make impression, even that sharp one, and the beautful little regal one who -- "Oh, good, she's found someone."

"Two," says K'del, after a moment. "Two to Southern, one in return. But then, we didn't send any to Igen-- recently, anyway-- and here we are." But it's with a smile; unbothered, even amused.

From the sands, Paislie backs away when the gold comes closer to their little group but it's Dee who her attention focuses on when it all happens. She glances uncertainly at G'vri, too, then watches the three walk away with a side eye at Jemizen. She's not going to be taking his hand. Never mind that she hasn't been holding Dee's for awhile now.

From the sands, W'leri circles back, and makes his way up to Aikane at a quick clip, even favoring Lelith with an amused stare. "Food and oil's this way. Get up and keep up, eh?" And he's off, again, only looking back to check their progress as he leads the way off the sands.

"No, not recently," Irianke agrees, a glance stealing to find Farideh midst the crowd. "And now High Reaches has two bred in the desert. I had something I'd like to discuss with you later," she adds, but then stops as a Telgar brownrider climbs the stairs to greet Irianke with a charming smile.

From the sands, Lelith has left.

From the sands, There's an eerie grace to way in which the More Than They Made Me Green moves, none of the usual hatchling awkwardness to her, and little by little she continues to slink towards her chosen target, seen or felt from far enough away to eliminate all others from her interest. Pressed low to the sand beneath her, she moves steadily, intently, and finds the feet of the red-headed girl she wants, coiling her lithe form around her ankles. Her eyes narrow in a possessive, watchful stare, even as they rush through rainbows. This girl is hers. Target secure.

From the sands, As more and more of the hatchlings find their companions -- when the gold finds /her/ match -- C'stian seems to relax a little more. That tension that set into his shoulders with Ka'ge's injury finally melts away and he offers first Eliyaveith, and then Lilah, a relieved grin.

From the sands, Aikane finally hears W'leri through her complete amazement, and it's finally his slightly tart words and Lelith's impassioned proddings for food that get the girl up on her feet, and lurching off with the baby green leading the way.

From the sands, Aikane has left.

From the sands, True to unheard words about her, Lilah doesn't truly relax in this moment, not with one egg and one dragon left and all of the eyes of the galleries on them. She still holds herself carefully, meeting C'stian's grin with only the hint of a smile, before turning her attention to that last egg that Eliyaveith watches.

From the sands, Casseny sidles back when Aikane finds her footing, head tilted to keep the pair in her sights as though they were her responsibility. A glimpse elsewhere reveals little else left to keep track of, though she does. Diligently. Her hands come up to squeeze the sides of her head, flattening her hair into place.

K'del's pause is a fraction too long, even after that Telgar brownrider arrives-- he gets a polite enough glance, though it's plain the bronzerider doesn't expect more than that-- and in the end, his answer is simple. "Of course." Neutrality, in that tone. If he would otherwise say more, he evidently elects not to, in this company, or in this place.

From the sands, Cracks appear along the delineated lines of the last egg, as The Writing On The Wall Egg decides that it is finally time to be wiped away as well. A softly colored blue, echoing the coloring of one of his brothers, tears his way out of what remains of his shell before making his way over to what remains of the Candidates after most of his brothers and sisters have had their pick. From them, he chooses a young Healer apprentice.

From the sands, As the Moon's Reflected Magic Blue realizes that he is the last of his brothers and sisters on the sands, he seems to get all that more self-conscious, a quickness to his step and a flail of his wings outwards that sees him tripping towards a Southern Candidate who is left standing by himself. From there, it seems he does not need to go further, collapsing in an embarrassed pile at that boy's feet.

From the sands, Paislie is focused on other things, so she doesn't really notice the slinking green until it's too late. She gasps when the green coils around her feet, making it difficult for her to step away. But then she doesn't want to. Even if she still looks anxious, Paislie stands there staring down at the hatchling. "Uiysath?" is definitely a question.

From the sands, Casseny takes special and deliberate note of that blue's choice, the consequences of such ticking by almost visibly behind her eyes. She's returned to chewing on her lip, but it's softer now and delegated to one, inner, spot. With a single blue left, Casseny keeps him on the edge of her vision, but her main attention's drifted to where Lilah and C'stian stand and she squares her shoulders with a bit of expectation, and maybe impatience.

Faryn's fallen to characteristic silence as the hatching progresses, chewing on a thumbnail with nerves at each hatchling, at each Impression, with a slow smile when the gold finds her rider and each pair is successfully led away. It's after that, and with most of them shelled, that the apprentice relaxes slightly. "Good," she determines as the last egg cracks and hastily Impresses, and she shifts in anticipation of the last Impression. "What a picky little thing," is thinly veiled criticism of the blue who remains, like it's encouraging, but then he stops too, and she quickly rises to her feet in anticipation of beating the crowd out.

From the sands, J'zen blinks, his features awash in confusion for one brief moment, before suddenly his face flushes red with sudden, unexplainable chagrin. Eyes flicker side to side rapidly--did everyone see that? Wait. Why the sudden embarrassment? His gaze falls to the little blue who has suddenly tripped in front of his feet. "Oh! Lucuxyth!" He reaches down, brushing indigo headknobs affectionately and nodding in agreement. "Yes. A nap is in order! But I suppose we can eat first." And off he goes, in the vague direction of the weyrlingmaster's staff.

From the sands, Uiysath coils tighter for just a moment, her affirmative offered by way of silent, fierce posession, before she uncoils and looks up at Paislie, expectantly. Yes. Come along, now.

From the sands, Shards and shells litter W'leri's walking path, the path that is leading him to Paislie and her green; he's not subtle about the way he maneuvers around the bits of egg. "Let's go," without preamble, his finger rotating to indicate speed. "Time to eat. Take a nap, if you're lucky," and then he's gone, moving through the ruins of beautiful shells and off the sands.

From the sands, J'zen has left.

From the sands, Lucuxyth has left.

From the sands, When the final eggs have hatched, and the final dragons made their choices, C'stian finally steps forward. This time, the dismissal duty is an easy one; there's no tragedy or shock to deal with, at least none beyond the usual shock of a Candidate who hoped to Impress and did not. "There will be a feast shortly to celebrate these Impressions. All Candidates and guests are welcome to attend," he offers, speaking loudly enough to be heard through the galleries. Then, turning his attention to the remaining Candidates, the Hematite wingsecond glances over each of them in turn thoughtfully. "Candidates, you are dismissed," he offers at a more normal volume. "On behalf of the Weyr, we thank you all for coming; you're welcome to remain at the Weyr if you choose, and to wait for another clutch."

From the sands, G'vri is on a roll today, picking out people he's familiar with over the people that he's not. It might not be on purpose, but it's toward Jemizen he goes to lead his fellow Southerner turned Fortian off of the sands. There's a brief look for Gavrik before he follows the last weyrlings.

From the sands, Paislie has left.

From the sands, Uiysath has left.

Only after all of the eggs have hatched and new dragonets, safe, whole and healthy, have Impressed does Hattie begin to make her way down from the topmost row, making only the briefest of small talk here and there as she must. When she finds the railings and where she started once more, she pauses, hands reaching to curl carefully around metal as she lets out a slow, deep breath. "...Go," she murmurs. "Let go now." And she does, relinquishing her grip on the railing to abruptly turn and head from the hatching cavern, without looking back.

The Telgar brownrider lingers until the last dragon Impressees and then he smiles broadly at Irianke, nodding politely to K'del, then leans in to murmur something. "Clear skies to you, sir, ma'am," he says to the Reaches Weyrleading pair, and traipses down towards his crowd once more. "Clear skies," parrots Irianke, her cheeks flushed for some reason. "Shall we? Did you want to speak with Lilah?"

Throughout the remainder of the hatching, High Reaches' youngest goldrider has been mingling, as she was told with some familiar and unfamiliar faces, staying only long enough to make greetings if necessary and note the impressions as they happen. It's at the end, when C'stian gives his speech, that she tries moving along one tier, only to accidentally bump Yesia with her knee. "Oop-- sorry, Yesia," Farideh exhales, part rueful, part relieved; at least it isn't another Fortian goldrider.

K'del tacks on a, "Clear skies," in the wake of the brownrider's, and Irianke's, too, distracting himself from his meandering gaze around galleries and sands to focus on the goldrider's remarks. "Mm, I think she'll be surrounded by well-wishers, today. I'll talk to her when things have settled down." He stands, then, offering the goldrider his arm.

Yesia watches the last Impression without criticism, and is staring at the sands - at what remains - as people bump and shuffle after C'stian's words. When someone bumps her, and harder than the jostling of everyone else, she turns - though for some reason she doesn't lash. "It's okay," concedes the greenrider, taking that as a prompt that maybe she too should be rising -- so she does. "I didn't realize how it looked afterwards," she says, having stayed home for Fort's last hatching with a needy dragonet. "Are you going to the feast?" It seems she is - given a chance - and she descends to the exit regardless of Farideh's answer.

"Understandably," Irianke, while watching Hattie, looks at K'del and places a hand on his elbow. Her chin jerks as the Fortian Weyrwoman makes her way out and then she looks at him, without words. "Well, then, let's do our rounds, make nice, eat their food and drink their drinks, and head home?"

"Is it--" Farideh bites down on her lip and lifts her eyes to the vacant sands, as people start to pour out of the stands. "I don't-- No. Not this time, but tell me about it later," she answers Yesia, looking wistful, just before her eyes shift to the two weyrleaders; her feet follow her eyes, back to the entourage.

The subtle lift and fall of his chin marks K'del's response to the jerk of Irianke's; silent, but acknowledged. "Yes, of course," he says, beginning to lead the way towards the stairs. His gaze slides past Farideh as he walks, but doesn't linger.


Comments

Alida (02:01, 28 June 2015 (MDT)) said...

Alida told you that the warped egg would be fine, Lilah! >.< ^^

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