Logs:Meeting The Eggs
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 15 July, 2008 |
| Who: Paige, M'yr, D'kai, A'riste, Berit, Jendel |
| Type: Log |
| What: The candidates head out onto the sands to meet Ciath and Soldreth's eggs. It could have been more disastrous, but everyone survives the whims of the sire relatively unscathed. |
| Where: Hatching Cavern, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 2, Turn 17 (Interval 10) |
   |
| M'yr hesitates before placing a hand on the railing that follows the steps upward into the Gallery. He seems pensive, dark eyes shifting out onto the sand where Ciath sleeps and Sol dozes beside her. The eggs have hardened to where the healers are thinking that it won't be long now, so M'yr has once again called the Candidates together to touch the precious cargo on the hot sand. Now he climbs, stepping to the top step to gaze out at the gathered Candidates. "Ahem." he begins, hands clasped behind his back as he lingers a look upon each one. "Are you ready?" Aeriste's face is a little pale, and his eyes are rather wide. But he manages a firm, "Yes, sir!" nonetheless, and straightens up under the Weyrleader's scrutiny. This is it: the first confrontation with the possibilities of their collective future. Dekelvai's standing straight, hands clasped behind his back, a bit of an eager grin playing at his lips. He flicks his gaze over the assembled Canadidates - nervous, excited, terrified - but, at the Weyrleader's little cough, he snaps to attention. His affirmative comes shortly after Aeriste, with a widening of his smile and an quick drumming of his fingers against his belt. Ah yes, the Gallery - possibly one of the advantages to having a clutch in the winter was that the intense warmth of the Sands served as an escape from the biting cold of Fort's chilly winters. Jendel, despite her bulk, seems more than appreciative of this fact as she walks with M'yr and the other Candidates into the Gallery, herself feeling a tinge of odd excitement as today is their day to finally touch the eggs! "Aye... sir," she says with a grin (and yes, she actually just used the word "sir"!). The former butcher looks past the Weyrleader briefly, towards the eggs and Soldreth and Ciath, before her attention is back on M'yr again. Round green eyes take in the sands, and then the pensive-looking Weyrleader. It never fails to get more nerve-wracking each time Berit descends from the galleries on the sands, and this time is no different than any of those that preceded it - few as they may be. She interlaces her fingers together, nervously squeezing them amidst the coral folds of her skirt, and bobs her head in affirmation. "Yes," she says quietly, her voice barely heard above the other candidates, but then, she can barely be seen either. Paige is a timid thing near the back of the group of candidates, wedged near a few familiar faces - Berit being one of them. Her own affirmation probably gets lost in the haphazard chorus that comes from the group, but the look that she turns onto the sands is anxious, eyes round and hands clasped meekly behind her back. M'yr hmms, casting that experienced 'look' at each one in turn, sizing them up as to possible Impression potential - or something. "Well then, let's get going. I would suggest that each of you make sure your sandals or boots are tied securely. Once on the sand, you don't want to lose them. Keep your feet covered and I heartily suggest a little hopping will keep them cooler longer. The sire, uhm, is sleeping but that may not last for long. Keep a respectful distance from Sol. It's possible he could be your dragon's Da, should you find a dragon on Fort's soil this time." Taking two steps back, he motions with his arm toward the steps in a way that is clear he's in charge and they will go. Ciath is indeed sleeping soundly, perhaps why M'yr chose this time to bring the group in. Not so much with Sol. He was dozing but being the seasoned sire, he's alert to whatever may be happening around him and /his/ eggs. The bronze's chiseled head slowly rises, muscles tightening just in case. Aeriste begins to stride forward, but once his feet hit the sands, his progress is checked: he hesitates, and moves sideways, far enough in so that the others can file past if they wish. He takes a soft breath, and then offers to the bronze a bow, steady and respectful. "By your leave," he says very softly to the bronze, "We've only come to admire your eggs." The heat, oh, the heat underfoot, manifests almost immediately as Dekelvai moves down and away and towards the entrance, gradually but quickly enough seeping into the soles of his shoes. The lad shuffles his feet a little, lifting them just a bit off the shifting sands, alternating to keep them cool for as long as possible. But the distraction is momentary, at best, as Soldreth lifts his head, and Deke stop-starts-stops to a halt next to Aeriste. "Ah," and that's all he can manage, for now, but he does follow the Harper's suit and bends into a stiff bow. At the entrance to the Sands, Jendel is towards the front of the gaggle of the Candidates following M'yr. However, already having seen - and heard - what Soldreth could do to people who weren't even on the sands, she was mindful of keeping her distance, and letting Aeriste go onto the Sands first! The Fortian butcher smiles as she begins waking forward, though this smile quickly turns into a grimace as she realizes just how /hot/ the Sands are beneath her soles! She's able to make it through a couple of steps, though she soon falls into a pattern of making a few steps followed by a hop. The butcher then notices that Aeriste is actually /talking/ to the restless bronze! Well, might as well join him, now. "Aye, c'ngrats 'n such a beaut' clutch," Jendel drawls, herself giving a small, yet respectful, bow (because she knows if she doesn't, she might get eaten or something). Wedged as she is between two fairly tall candidates, there is little hope for Berit to see anything beyond their shoulder blades unless she leans to the side - which she does. She takes a peek around someone's arm, her curious gaze flying first to the eggs, and then to the bronze who is *awake*. Trepidation stirs in her countenance, a quaver of anxiety, until she spies those familiar faces of friends amongst the other candidates. Pushing down the unreasonable fear, she blows out a breath and looks back at Paige, offering the girl a bolstering smile. M'yr's done this so many times that he instinctively glasses over his eyes, communicating with his lifemate for a moment before turning toward the group. "He'll not bite." he mentions though there's a touch of distant doubt in his tone. "Go ahead and move out among the eggs and touch them. You'll find each rather leathery to the touch, but each one has a slightly different shape that makes them interesting. I've received word that they may hatch soon so I do hope you have your Candidate robes ready. We could call you any time now." Trembling terribly, even for this small sojourn out to meet the eggs, Paige just takes in the vastness of the cavern from ground-level; her feet shuffle about uncomfortably once she makes it out onto the sands, pale gaze snapping from the buried clutch to Soldreth's stirring form. Bending her upper body into a shaky bow, she nevertheless huddles among a few others who seem too afraid to mince out over the sands immediately. Berit's bolstering smile is returned with an almost terrified look. Getting sick or fainting would not be the wisest thing to do at the moment, but her momentary sway makes her appear about to do either. Or maybe she's just getting a feel for the sudden heat. Sol definitely heard what M'yr conveyed, but he ignores part of it when he rises to stand there, eyes not leaving the group of young Candidates before him. He's back behind the egg area, eggs between him and them, slightly to the left of the mass. A few steps to the side bring him in a better position to watch with wary attention. Looks like he'll allow this. For a while. "Yes, sir." Aeriste steps forward again after a sidelong glance at Dekelvai. His boots are thick-soled; he doesn't mince, though his feet don't linger long in one spot. For now, his gaze stays more on Soldreth than the eggs: perhaps it's that he's just so much more immediately *looming*, and the Harper has a finely-tuned sense of self-preservation. But he slowly moves toward an egg anyway, wary lest the bronze's tight-sprung muscles should uncoil. "Aye, aye," Jendel nods towards the Weyrleader, before taking a few step-step-step-hops towards a greyish egg that's nearby her, and not as close to Soldreth. "Hmm," she muses something silently, before reaching out with one hand, and carefully touching the egg's surface. "Oh wow, s'leath'ry," she confirms M'yr's earlier comment to nobody in particular. One quick, low bow is spared the bronze and in a way, the sleeping gold, before Berit shuffles onto the sands with the rest of the candidates. She leads an uncertain path towards a blue egg, dropping down to a crouch in front of it and just staring with her arms folded atop her knees. There are patterns and colors on this egg, things that hold her attention and call for a closer look. Finally, she reaches out a tentative hand, her fingertips grazing the surface, before she jerks her hand back. Looking a bit guilty and nervous, she casts a look around, noting the candidates spreading out amongst the other eggs. Soldreth's favorite color is blue? Maybe. Or maybe it's the figure that's squatting in front of a BLUE egg! Well now, time to take a look. Waddling forward, he skirts the mound of eggs until he's in close proximity to Berit. Down goes that great head, muzzle lowered to the sand, then it forges ahead easily to bulldoze lots of the granules toward her legs. Paige finally braves one step, then another, edging carefully toward the nearest available egg; it's small and mottled in clean, crisp hues of grey and an off-white. Extending a hand with every intent to touch the shell, the slim girl just freezes as the looming bronze /moves/, expression quavering again. But, seeing as he's more interested in pushing sand at Berit, she soon gets up the nerve to mince closer to the egg, fingers barely brushing the surface and hastily pulling back as her eyes scrunch shut. Gradually, they pop back open again, and with a slightly surer motion, since the egg doesn't bite, after all, she reaches out to touch it again, suddenly entranced by the texture. Here Berit is, innocently touching an egg and braving her nervousness, when of a sudden she is the victim of a sand-plower! She goes completely tense, staying perfectly still, and just turns her face to the side so she can see what *exactly* is happening. Doubtless, she probably wishes she had not looked, for what she sees makes her gulp loudly, but she is frozen in place without the gumption to move. "I.." she stammers, "I ..oh.." Her head drops, her gaze falling to her feet - if she does not see him, surely he cannot see her! M'yr patiently rolls his eyes as he watches the dragon which obviously didn't stay in a reclining position on the sand for long. He's just raising his hand with index finger extended upward when the shovel-muzzle goes to work. "Sol!" he calls out sharply, sucking in a long, quick gulp of air. The bronze head swivels to look at that familiar voice with a 'who me?' but action follows reaction so his long tail swishes through the sand to send particles cascading over Jendel and Paige. Aeriste's meandering takes him to the side of a small, pale egg, half-hidden in the sand. Soldreth's attention is elsewhere for now; perhaps it's safe to linger? He bends to cautiously touch that leathery shell- and then the sudden movement of an egg nearby makes him freeze. "By the Golden Egg of Faranth," he sings under his breath, just barely loud enough to be heard, as if music might be some kind of reassurance, "By the Weyrwoman, wise and true / Breed a flight of Bronze and Brown wings, / Breed a flight of Green and Blue." Paige has nowhere to duck as sand cascades over her, save to hunker down behind the smallish sort of egg she's slowly acquainting herself with. Eyes momentarily scrunched shut and mouth pressed firmly together, she releases a long-held breath and dares to peep around her hiding place a few moments later. No more sand showers? Unwilling to wait around to see if more will head in her direction, she scuttles over to another egg - this one a bit larger, but nearly completely buried save for a swatch of stormy blue-grey. "Gahck!" Is Jendel's approximate reaction to the spray of sand from Soldreth's tail - thanks to the fact that she had her mouth open to speak just as the stuff was flung at her! She shakes her head a few times, to get out of her hair, before daring to give the bronze a rather quick glare - he deserves it! With a grumble under her breath, she moves onto another egg, this one more of a ominous, swirling brownish color, and somewhat more ovular than the others. Hm, interesting. Just enough time is given during the rebuking and sand shower for Berit to duck and run. She trudges over towards another blue egg, this one slightly bigger, and she tries to position herself to where she will not be seen by the bronze. Once can be forgiven, twice might have her running towards the exit. Exhaling loudly, she reaches out her palms, lightly caressing the shell as she traces the contours with her eyes, and sinks back into silent appreciation. Were the bronze not quite so intimidating, the sands quite so hallowed and echoing, Dekelvai might've even laughed aloud at Soldreth's furrowing and nudging of sand in Berit's direction, but as it is he permits a wide grin, half-hidden under his ducked head. He's taken up next to an egg quite opposite to Sol, though likely not consciously, and folded himself up awkwardly to get a little nearer to the arch of the shell and run his hands over it. At first touch, he inhales, sharply, but afterward shows no inclination to speak, instead creasing his brow in thought as he traces finger and palm over the pale green whorls. Paige's fingers are tentatively drawing out imaginary lines that curve aimlessly over the uncovered section of this darker shell, following a smudge of darker grey here or trailing toward a lighter puff of blue there. Her expression is at once tender and yet, tentative; this is the dwelling of a baby dragon, after all, and here she is oogling it and learning its patterns and hues - what can be seen of them, at least. Aeriste's voice steadies, as does his hand on the egg: "Breed riders, strong and daring, / Dragon-loving, born as hatched, / Flight of hundreds soaring skyward, / Man and dragon fully matched." He barely touches the soft, soft shell of the egg before him, though, feather-light as if touching might make it, and its contents, more real than a song, or a dream. And then he's moving again, putting distance between himself and it, though there's no longer any fear evident on his face. A faint whisper of sound floats through the cave for a moment. Wind, shifting sand, or perhaps something else.........? Blue is just not Berit's color - purple is more like it! And as she spots an egg bearing that color, she starts side-stepping in that direction, keeping one eye on Soldreth at all times. One never knows when one is going to be surprised by a brooding dragon. So she goes, slow and awkward, until she is crouching in front of this new egg, and her focus switches from the clutch father to the somber ovoid. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she whispers something to the egg and then leans back, a satisfied expression on her face, as she observes the swirls and lines on the egg's surface. Perhaps it's that breath of air that passes over him, compelling him on to other eggs, but Dekelvai quietly unfolds himself to a stand with a last touch at the apex of the little verdant oval. He glances up, around the sands, still inattentively shifting his feet against the heat, but it's mechanical movement, unthinking, and he skims his gaze over his fellow Candidates for a moment, absorbing their expressions and gestures and postures. But then, just as suddenly as his quiescence, he's moving again, pacing towards the next nearest egg, not distinguishing between colour or size or shape but instead moving amongst them by their proximity to the boy himself. This one is of average size, and instead of resettling himself into the sands, Deke simply bends to caress and explore the slightly-dimpled surface. Did someone dare to sneak away from his gaze? Well now. Let's go looking for that boy who's bending over one of his eggs why don't we. It doesn't take him long to waddle close to Dekelvai and that bent form. Hmm. Muzzle to backside should be just fine in giving him a nice nudge that'll send him to the sand away from the precious egg. So yeah, let's do it. *nudge* Paige eventually leaves the blue-grey egg in favor of moving toward one that's mostly green and gray. Perhaps it reminds her of alpine scenery from near her home. Or maybe it's just farther away from wandering Soldreth. Whichever it happens to be, the girl gingerly reaches out to rub her hands along the leathery shell, brow quivering. While touching the brown, vortex-like orb, Jendel watches Soldreth's antics with slight amusement - well, at least at this rate, there wasn't going to be a Candidate spared! Her hand caresses the hidelike shell with a certain confidence, and a grin pops back on her face her gaze goes between the egg and the bronze clutchfather. Aeriste, catching sight of that, begins to laugh, quiet and nervous, before he covers his mouth with his hand. He shakes one foot slightly, and then the other, as the burn of the sands begins to superheat the soles of his boots. And then kneels near another egg, because he must touch another, musn't he? And does that, barely a brush of his fingers over one long curve: a dragonet sleeps inside, so very close, perhaps restlessly close, to hatching. And - hup! - up and over goes Dekelvai, as graceless in the air as he is on his own two feet, and it's with a bemused sort of cough that the lad finds himself bottom-up in the sand, hot little granules sticking to his bare arm and slipping down his tunic. He's got, at least, enough restraint to avoid crying out, and instead he peers - a little bedazedly - up at Soldreth. "Er, ah," the boy carefully rights himself, keeping wide eyes fixed on the bronze as he does so, and brushes himself off with hesitant little motions of his hand. "I'll go- look at this one, shall I?" And so he does, backing away, understanding now Berit's odd crabwise-shuffle as he puts an egg or two between him and Soldreth. "Right, nice egg. Pretty egg. Look just like your sire, you do," he croons, perfectly clearly, eyeing Sol as does. Careful fingers trail down the side of the egg, touching certain spots of color and grazing the curves feather-light. "It is not so bad," Berit murmurs to herself, smiling as she curves her free arm around her knees. Without a dragon to nose around and scare her out of her good wits, she can even relax and begin to look at those around her. There is Paige, looking scared, Aeriste laughing to himself, Deke being.. Deke, and oh, there Soldreth is! Smiling smugly to herself, she pushes herself to a standing and takes a few steps to towards the next egg. M'yr just shakes his head and doesn't even call out his lifemate's name sharply. All he does is raise his hand and roll it about in the air, a signal to gather the troops, er, Candidates back to his side. "I think that's about all now." he calls out rather loudly to the group. "Let's go back and get something to drink. Sand's hot and I'm ready to leave that one get some sleep." Meaning that big lug who's eyeing the group again. Jendel's about to move onto another nearby egg when the call to finish is given. "D'aww..." Jendel gives the sand a light nudge with one foot, though she's not about ready to disobey. She gives the eggs one last parting look, before joining the regathering gaggle of Candidates around M'yr. One signal is all Berit needs to hightail it back to the Weyrleader, away from the hot sands and that bronze eyeing them closely. She sidesteps an egg to get into line behind the other candidates, merging into the group with ease despite her full skirts and glossy brown hair caught up in a silky ribbon. Voices begin to rise as they begin to get less nervous, feeling comfortable now that they are headed back to the galleries, but Berit's voice is not among them. Quietly moving, she keeps her gaze down and a smile curving her lips. Soldreth's got one last card up his, uh, maw, the final card of this dragonpoker game he's been playing. Moving cautiously around the mound of eggs, he eases closer to the remaining Candidates, namely Aeriste, lowering his head to give this one a good stare as he passes by the bronze hulk. *peer* Odd goodbye, eh? There, good. Rescued from any more of Soldreth's, ah, affections, Dekelvai moves away from this last egg, albeit a bit reluctantly, dawdling just enough to trail long fingers one more time over the gentle curve. But, between the gesture and the bronze's proximity, Deke's not long back to M'yr, joining in the stragglers converging in from the sands. And despite the hot, sticky grains clinging underneath his shirt, he's grinning broadly. Paige is all too happy to follow the Weyrleader's suggestion, mincing her way back to the entrance among the candidates swarming in that direction. While others gradually grow more comfortable, she's still pale and clammy, eyes darting about anxiously and shoulders - still tensed. But she survived! Not that it'll make the next trip any less nerve-wracking. Aeriste stops still when Soldreth pauses by him, and he meets that whirling gaze straight on. "Thank you," he states quietly, "For the privilege, Soldreth." He sketches a bow that's a fraction deeper than the first one he'd given the bronze, whirls, and moves - in full retreat - to quickly join the rest. M'yr's chest lifts with a great sigh, his own stare leveled at the sire he knows so well. "So. That went well.." is sent to the bronze who waddles back to the sleeping Ciath, extends a wing over her, then settles down in the hot sand. "Anyhow. Who's ready for a piece of bubbly and a drink! I am. Let's go, hmm?" With that, he shoos the troupe off the sand. |
Leave A Comment