Logs:Eggstravaganza
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| RL Date: 22 September, 2015 |
| Who: Alida, Edyis, Faryn, Z'kiel, Ilicaeth, Akluseth, Ahtzudaeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The first of Pyrite's eggs hatch late at the nighthearth. |
| Where: HRW: Nighthearth |
| When: Day 23, Month 11, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Late autumn evening; cool, partly-cloudy. |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, Jo/Mentions, Yesia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Mime posed with permission. As always, it seems, I'm having to re-post due to problems with proper word-wrapping. Ugh. |
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| Yes; it's 10pm or so. Sadly, babies wait for no person's schedule...and so, when Alida notices Pyrite's first indications of intent examination and un-burying of a few of her batch of 8 eggs, she has Ilicaeth send out 'invitations' to those already stationed at the Weyr. Jo's buddies aren't Weyrfolk, so their wants come second. « Pyrite's eggs're just barely movin'. » the blue responds with a certain easy pleasure to Ahtzudaeth and Akluseth. He likes being a sort-of uncle to the tinies about to emerge. « Oh! Somebody find... » Insert the image of Faryn *here* « ...an' drag 'er outta bed. » If she's in it, anyway. Tacked on to his somewhat eager warble is a baritone, « Might take awhile. Alida's movin' 'em to the night hearth. » Good news for everybody: Faryn's not in bed, and so nobody has to brave the wrath of her new roommate with the twitchy reputation. Lycinea probably wouldn't take so well to any of those people barging in at such an hour, even if it's earlier than when Faryn often heads back in. If she comes back in at all. As is often the case, she's fallen asleep in the chair near the hearth, curled in a tiny ball in the largest chair, with her jacket as a blanket and her knit cap pulled down over her ears, using the arm of the chair as a pillow. Likely, she won't be happy to be woken up, not even by this lot. « Ah! Delightful! Z'kiel will be there shortly. » Ahtzudaeth's enthusiasm is a quivering, glittering thing that tingles at the periphery. It positively pulses with anticipation. The Igenite, for his part, is evidently not in bed - nor anywhere near it. He's still wearing his leathers - sans helmet and gloves - and he carries a satchel with him. It's a fairly small satchel and appears to have something or another in it, but it's hard to really tell. « This will be exciting! » the bronze declares - even if he'll have to borrow his rider's eyes for some of it. Once he's in the nighthearth, though, his attention drifts from the space itself - to the chair that holds Faryn. He's not about to wake her up, but he will get a mug of klah to set on the table near it. That Edyis is jogging and somewhat out of breath is probably a sign that Akluseth has made his will known on such invitations, by attempting to avoid mention of them. As she reaches the destination, the ribbon woven braid is flipped over a shoulder, setting the tiny charms attached to tinkle. Dark eyes scan the room then, a wide toothy smile flashes as dark eyes rest on the bluerider, bronzerider and the unsuspecting sleeping Faryn. The last is of course eyed, and from Edyis's expression, possibly about to be prodded into wakefulness. "Pyrite babies!" is her happy greeting, which sounds more like the gleeful chant of a child than a grown woman of twenty some turns. Don't judge. « It was fun the first time, too! » Ilicaeth responds with his own anticipation to brown and bronze, the blue's humming kept mostly telepathic so as to not disturb those resting, right now. It takes his rider a good 5 minutes to wrangle those precious eggs and their large tub of warm sand into a big sack, hoisted up to Ilicaeth's near shoulder and affixed to his harness. And by the time the woman's hurrying into the hearth area, she's sweaty and puffing from the all the effort of lugging fifty-plus pounds around in a hurry. "Z'kiel..." is clipped off tightly, the man hopefully correctly interpreting the bluerider's chin jerk down at her burden. She could use a hand. Flying about her head and humming for all she's worth, Pyrite waits until the hidden eggs are gently laid to rest before the actual foot of the hearth before she climbs atop the sands and starts digging a few free. Hot on her heels is clutchpappa Mime, who takes a perch on the side of the large basket and adds his hum to the gold's. That the people are all here before her is no surprise, but everybody still earns a mass bob of the blonde's head in silent greeting while, outside - and having to 'watch' through his lifemate's eyes - Ilicaeth buddies up close to Ahtzudaeth and Akluseth and issues a very low, very soft snippet of a hum. To Ahtzudaeth and Ilicaeth, Akluseth does not approve, yo. To Akluseth and Ilicaeth, Ahtzudaeth tuts - but even that chastisement is a merry-sounding thing. « It will do them good to have young little things to care for. » Or maybe he just means Z'kiel? Hard to tell. It takes a certain skill to sleep through the noise of others, catching some slumber while things go on around you, but Faryn's perfected it. If it were just three riders and a heavy burden, she might stay that way, out like a light and strangely peaceful for all that, but then there's humming to take in. Hangover from candidacy, or the years she's spent in weyrs - however low that number - has Faryn shaking herself awake with a start, both eyes flying open to peer at the group that's gathered with the surliest expression to counterpoint her peace, all relaxation shifting to tension while she takes in the faces there. "What?" is not as standoffish as it sounds; she's clearly confused. Ilicaeth 'sounds' both indulgent, amused, and understanding of both brown and bronze's viewpoints. « Ain't like we c'n really stop 'em. » Not when they get something into their heads, anyhow. Chuff. (To Akluseth and Ahtzudaeth from Ilicaeth) To Ahtzudaeth and Ilicaeth, Akluseth mutters something about flat-chested women and their silly ideas. His seas green with something.... There's a slight tensing of Z'kiel's jaw at the loudness of the greeting - relative to the mostly-quiet of the nighthearth, that is. But, what's done is done and all he can do is nudge the klah a little closer to Faryn without a word. And, about that time is when Alida manifests - and the issuing of his name is barely necessary. He's in motion as soon as he sees her plight and he'll take the basket (or just help, depending on how much she's willing to relinquish) until it's where it needs to be. It's heavy, sure, but not that heavy to the likes of him. Ahtzudaeth bobs his head with a gape-mawed at the blue that joins them. It's a birdlike gesture and delighted at that - and once Ilicaeth starts to hum, so, too, does the bronze. To Akluseth and Ilicaeth, Ahtzudaeth's thoughts fizz and sparkle a bit with amusement. Clearly that muttering comes through, for he asks with great mirth, « Am I a flat-chested woman with silly ideas? » Chortle. « Brother-mine, that color of water simply does not suit you. » Akluseth isn't humming. Still he's content enough to sulk near the cheery bronze and blue. Edyis looks a little abashed at that tense of Z'kiel's jaw, but she's practically buzzing with energy, dark eyes drifting over and watching that basket get tugged over. Sorry, is mouthed, but she doesn't entirely look it, being as chipper as Akluseth is dour. "Alida said the firelizard eggs are about to pop." Edyis notes sticking over near Faryn, perhaps a little worried that Pyrite might be a little over protective at the moment. To Ilicaeth and Akluseth, Ahtzudaeth's thoughts uncurl into conspiratorial smoke, sliding to shift over Akluseth's water. « You know. I hear it is delightful to have their little claws getting into all the places your rider can't. » Then again, he's the one with most of the itching issues; of course he'd hear about something like that. "Thanks..." Alida puffs in earnest to the bronzerider once the basket's situated properly upon the floor, the woman then slowly standing to blot at her sweaty face with cloth-covered arms. No jacket, given her hurry. "Thing's unwieldy after a few hundred yards at a trot..." her clipped alto notes of the basket of sand and eggs. To Edyis is quietly huffed, "A few uv' 'em, anyway. She laid some a day apart, so..." Shrug. They hatch when they hatch. Blink. Faryn's over there? The bluie appears momentarily confused, then simply goes with the flow, though she never extended a purposeful invitation to the former Herder. To the three other humans here is quickly noted, "I figure we could use the old stew still in the pot...butcha' gotta cool it down, first." Too hot for even ravenous baby mouths. "I brought jerky, too, in case there's not enough stew." She sounds oddly sure about how to deal with the impending hatching, unlike lat time this happened. Upon 'their' basket, bronze and gold firelizards continue to hum, the volume of the sound slowly increasing as a creamy-colored egg with splotches of butterscotch all over it wiggles. The bronze's gaped-mouthed grin meets with its twin as Ilicaeth does the same, the blue laughing internally at 'poor' Akluseth's consternation...in a good way, though. « He's right, man. They help scratch the itches an' bathe ya when ours can't help. » Mm Yeah...especially those damned awful itches. (To Akluseth and Ahtzudaeth from Ilicaeth) To Ahtzudaeth and Ilicaeth, Akluseth remains dubious, but the idea seems to settle him some. Oh, Faryn's grouchy, firelizards or no. And she's been hanging around with Z'kiel too much, too, because she grunts in a fair mimicry of his own sound and reaches for the klah he offers, uncurling halfway just so she can stretch over the arm of the couch to take it. Her eyebrow arches at Edyis' proximity, and the warning comes from a sleep-thick tongue as she finally hooks it and pulls it close: "Do you think they know when we're sleeping?" A large pull of klah and two smaller sips seem enough to put her to rights: that is, sullen but awake, her hands wrapped around her drink, with her eyebrows lifted for Edyis' cheerful proximity. The yawn from behind the mugs is enormous. And because there was no formal invitation - even if she's heard plenty about little Pyrite and her clutch - Faryn settles back in her chair, all content to watch with the bitterness of the recently roused. "Wanting one of those is insane." And, of course, Z'kiel eyes Pyrite right back for the duration of the basket moving and situating and everything. He nods once to Alida's assertions, issues a grunt that's possibly empathetic, and then he's patting down the bag he brought. There's a bit of a grimace, a fogging of his eyes, and a slight shake of his head. "Thought I packed jerky." Hnnnh. Alida's suggestion of stew, then, is one that he'll take. He crosses to collect two bowls, mindful to pick out as much meat as he can. "Should be enough for you, Edyis," he adds, only for his attention to slide to Faryn. "They're useful. Smart. Can be trained." One corner of his mouth pulls in a thing that might be a lopsided smile - but doesn't last long enough to be identified. "I'd have agreed with you a few turns ago. Now-" grunt, shrug. That should say it all. "Thank you Zak." Edyis smiles, "I've got some tunnel snake, it's about as tasty as it sounds, though." Fishing the pouch from her bag and offering it in Z'kiel's direction, since he's sharing too. "I have wanted one ever since I was a kid," Edyis confesses to Faryn, "Hunted beaches all over Monaco for them when I lived down south, but never found any." It's almost wistful, but she smiles at Z'kiel. "Hopefully this lot takes after Mime in the well behaved department." Moving to get a closer view of the adults now humming. To groggy and unsympathetic Faryn, Alida clips off a low, "*She* hurled 'erself at me. Little shit gave *me* no choice." A jerk of chin out to speedy-eye-whirling, humming Pyrite leaves no room for doubt who the bluerider means. She'll leave out how she ran away (gasp!) from the whole wild clutch in the first place. Since nobody helped her out back then, perhaps she'll just leave the ex-Herder to her own fate, as well. Shrug. "Like he said..." is the guard's simple agreement with Z'kiel, tough she adds, "*If* yer a responsible owner, an' train them right. Gotta remember, though, they're not as fool-proof as a dragon. Even Pyrite's been known ta screw-up every-so-often." Hearing her name causes the queen to turn her bright blue eyes upon her 'owner' for a moment before she rejoins Mime in looking down intently upon the eggs...another of which has decided to join the butterscotch one in quivering, and now fissuring. To the three other humans, Alida lips off, "Ya know how this goes, right?" Any even-halfway confused looks from them will evince a clinical-sounding response. "Positive thoughts; lure 'em with food, no aggressive stances 'r loudness." And, on the tail-end of that pronouncement, the butterscotch egg heaves convulsively, splits down the near-middle...and out rolls a wet and sand covered hatchling, its squalling muffled by a mouthful of grit. Faryn doesn't so much hold up a hand as she extends her fingers slightly in an abbreviated gesture of surrender for Z'kiel's assessment and a nod. Carry on. "If that's the point," she yields, though her eyes on the bronzerider are amused, and the suggestion in her tone is that he might still be insane. Edyis, too, and Alida to round out the diadem of lunacy. And yet, Faryn reaches out to tap Zak on the hip with the back of her hand, wiggling her fingers in a gimme gesture at the bowl that Edyis has rejected, even as she says, "You sold me," with such wryness as to almost be unkind. The first piece of meat she plucks out is for herself though, just a test and a grimace, then, "Do you mind?" That's for Alida, her eyes dipping down to the hatchling as it spills out. Thank you. Don't figure they'll know the difference." Z'kiel will take some of the offered tunnelsnake meat - and put the bits in his bowl. The second bowl is, indeed, handed over to Faryn without question - though there is a slightly quirked eyebrow for something. It's not an unkind expression, at least. An eye is kept on the humming 'lizards, wary - and watchful, naturally. It's while the first egg splits and Alida runs down the rules - such as they are - that he steps closer to the basket. There's a mental check with his ostensibly better half, a barely perceptible nod, and he stays where he is, blowing on the bowl of stew meat and stirring it up with the tunnelsnake. "So," he finally ventures, "it's a little like dragons. But, with bribery." Deadpan, that. And then the wee one is hatched and covered in sand. Squint. "Don't eat that," is either for Faryn and her meat-sampling - or the sand-eating hatchling. Either way. "Who ever said dragons were fool-proof." Edyis snorts, grinning. She fishes out a few chunks of snake meat and cooked meat, mounding it in her palm, and studying the stuff critically. Happy thoughts seem to be no problem for the bright-eyed brownrider. Grinning at the deadpanning bronzerider. "Hey I know where you sleep, sometimes." Edyis blithely teases back at the assistant's wryness. The hatchling, and its sand eating get appropriate giggles. Spectacular joy and triumph! That's what miniature gold and bronze show with their first baby's hatching, Pyrite giving a trill of delight before nuzzling at the next, rocking egg: an off-white one with pale, multi-colored spots and blotches all over it. Outside, Ilicaeth has to contain his warble of enjoyment at the hatching of that first egg, the blue instead 'grinning' hugely again at Ak and Ahtzu. « I told ya! » Exciting, right?! As for Alida - who looks interested and pleased, herself - but cautiously distant in physical presence - well, the blonde finds herself peering at Faryn's inquiry, then nodding a couple of times. "In the end, all I guess I c'n ask is that ya be kind ta them, responsible." Z'kiel's words of dragons versus firelizards earn him a smirk and a low, "Kinda. Dragon hatchlings'll generally stop themselves from maulin' ya too much." And firelizards don't? "You know what I mean..." 'lida raps off with some good-natured snark to Edyis...while the second egg decides to fracture...inside a mound of sand. Only the sand-covered nose of the little blighter within can be seen sticking out of the basket...and breathing. As for its first-hatched sibling? Well, it's coughing up sand, spitting and drooling, snorting loudly as it rights itself. Hey now...what's that scent? MEAT. Red eyed and starving, the struggling little tyke hurls itself at the first piece of food to catch its eye...and winds up trying to eat Z'kiel's fingertips, as well as the real food. Is there blood? No matter, Alida's already wincing at the behavior, while Pyrite croons loudly, hums again. >---< Z'kiel's Bronze >----------------------------------------< Why the long face? He's a chiselled, grand fellow, an incarnation of autumn's blazing colors: golden sunlight, scarlet leaves, pumpkin-copper, and cinnamon spice streaked broadly over the greater background of a typically-bronze hide at headknobs, over wings and upon back and flanks. There's something almost sad about his features, though; a small and natural down-turn of mouth at corners plus a certain canting of headknobs and eye ridges that lends him the aire of silent, habitual melancholy. No doubt that oddly tear-shaped blotch of palest-bronze just beneath his left eye adds to the mystery of his apparent presence, as well, though he holds his lanky body upright. >----------------------------------------------------------------------------< Faryn apparently presumes Z'kiel's warning is for her, and her nibbling stops with a rebounded excuse. "I was making sure it's not too hot." Like you do for babies. But she's finding her feet at Alida's acquiescence, blowing on that piece of meat as she moves to join her friends, now fully awake and at least interested in the goings on. "I was a herder..." she's forgotten Alida's name, if she ever knew it, "I wouldn't be cruel to any animal. It's people." A puff of breath: annoyance, maybe, or a laugh at Z'kiel's little catch. Her amusement is low and plain, said with a simple sincerity. "He's handsome," she notes, "and look at you, all that bronze. Maybe I'll take my chances with lots of meat, next I stand. Numbweed's in my bag," if he'd like, but she's not getting it. She, instead, leans over the remaining eggs, and their parents, with her brows furrowed curiously and that cooling piece of meat between her fore and middle fingers, between the knuckles and with her fingertips drawn back protectively against any little teeth that might try the same trick as the bronze. Oh, ho! Outside, Ahtzudaeth's humming reaches dragon-hatching levels of loudness and his thoughts meet with Ilicaeth's in a burst of light and brilliance. The blue's grin is mirrored with his own - and can it be helped if the bronze shifts in place with excitement? « Oh, it's beyond words, » the bronze declares, though he'll no doubt find words to describe it later. As for Z'kiel, there's a grunt and a nod. "Makes sense. They're not as smart as dragons. Figure they'd be more like animals." And, oh. Well. Go figure. Timing is apparently everything - and the hunter, even as focused as he is, isn't fast enough to avoid what happens next. The bronze's teeth meet callused skin and meat - well, non-finger meat as well as finger meat, that is - and the Igenite bites back a hiss. If that chewing keeps up, he will bleed; for now, though, he tries to wordlessly convince the wee hatchling that the real meat - the chunks of stuff that were formerly in a bowl - is food. There is a flicked look to Faryn and a chuff - a chuff - of laughter and agreement. "I'll get it later." For now, he has a wee bronze to wrangle. Edyis watches, amused, as the little bronze attempts to gnaw Z'kiel's fingertips, holding out the meat a little more carefully as a result of this observation. Alida's assertion earns another reproachful look, and she snorts. "I can think of several people who'd probably disagree with you on that point too." Faryn gets eyed at her suggestion, "Careful, Lythronath sired that clutch, you might just get eaten." Her hand is held out fingers curled carefully away the way one might offer treats to a runner. "He looks like the sort to match your disposition." Grinning at the bronze rider. "Likewise..." Alida smirk-murmurs over to Faryn's view of animals versus humans, though her eyes are mostly for Z'kiel's 'capture' and blooding by his new pet. "Little savage..." is snerted out of the frowning baby bronzeling, the blonde slightly intrigued by the outer-melancholy on the hatchling's face...the face whose sharp little teeth have quickly figured out what's delicious and what's not. ICK; human tastes gross. For now, the red-eyed tyke's hungry-demanding, so as long as Zak keeps the tab open, he's likely in no further danger of being bitten. Hopefully. "Don't be so fuckin' exact, Edyis..." the guard eyerolls to the brownie, then letting her gaze slip over to Faryn when Ed 'warns' her about Lythronath's tendencies. "No shit..." is murmured a bit heavily, though the bluie winds up smirking and nodding her agreement at Edyis' opinion of the 'like pet, like owner' looks going on between Z'kiel and the little bronze. Somewhere in all that talking and looking around, another egg shudders and rocks beneath sand, while the second one crumples in on itself...releasing another hatchling that finally crawls out from under all that sand, and shakes itself violently. Nope, much of the grit is still sticking to it. Food? It smells it, but where is the stuff? Waaaay up there? Peer. "Fuck Lythronath," Faryn says blandly, like she's commentating on the weather, or a canine that ran into a window and not obscening a dragon. Her nose wrinkles up in consternation at the mention of that particular bronze, while she examines Z'kiel's out of the corner of her eye. "He's a big pain in my ass, maybe if I throw meat at him on the sands he'll leave me alone." It's the least she can hope, anyways. For Zak, it's, "He's not that sad looking. He just laughed." Chuffed. Whatever. Once the little bronze has figured out the difference between fingers and food, Z'kiel will collect the hatchling and move away slightly to continue feeding him. "And what disposition is that." It's a flatly uttered query angled to Edyis, though there is - naturally - no malice in the words. It's probably a joke. It most likely is one. And while he feeds the melancholic-looking bronze, he carefully rubs the remaining bits of sand off and gives the little fellow a good looking over. A sidelong look is angled at Faryn, a warning look - or, rather, it would be if she were most anyone else. Laugh? He did not - and from that look, he will deny it up and down. "Do they stop when they're full?" That's for Alida, with a slight furrow of his brow. He has no clue. He just knows that baby firelizards need meat and he'll give this one little bits at a time. Edyis sticks her tongue out at the bluerider for the comment on being exact. Comments on the bestial bronze earn a look, but no further comment. "A'rist can't be that bad, he can actually be kind of sweet sometimes." Oddly noted as Z'kiel's joke (or what she takes as a joke) is grinned at. "You know, tall, angular, broody." Something teasing and affectionate in her tone, her attention back at the newly escaped hatchlings. "Come on now, your mom can sniff out a meat roll from a mile away." "Wait until you might have a *lifemate* take t'the skies in a Flight alongside 'im..." Alida mutters a little darkly Faryn-wards of Lythronath. Outside, Ilicaeth rumbles low for just a moment at the temporary concern his human expresses, but - quickly enough - it's back to enjoying the moment with Ahtzudaeth...and maybe even Akluseth. Over to the slowly withdrawing Zak is murmured, "Yeah...then they conk out. Y'll wanna oil 'im while 'e's sleeping. Tend to 'em mostly like dragons...though they're capable uv' gettin' food on their own pretty quick. Still, y'wanna make sure they develop a solid bond with ya, so keep it almost-all hands-on fer awhile." Nod. Over to Edyis, "He's okay, I guess." A'rist. "I kinda-think 'is dragon sorta...broke 'im in a way, though." Or was he broken before Lynner got to him? Hmm. Oh...yes! That *is* food! Sighing in relief that it won't have to go looking farther than offering fingertips, the sandy little hatchling wriggles and shakes its way quickly over to Faryn's hand, and nabs the meat from them, chowing down with gusto as crusts of sand fall away from its hide. >---< Faryn's Brown >----------------------------------------< Enough might label him spindly, even bony; his dusty brown hide a sirocco-whipped chiaroscuro of parched straw, dusty umber pebbles, and eroding soil. Dry ravines wander aimlessly amidst the thirsty landscape of long limbs and tail, while deep-hidden moisture tinged hide slightly darker at long belly and narrow chest, deepening to fertile loam at protected creases and joints. This penury is relieved only when shorter, but wide wings are unfurled: a dappled smattering of early autumn's colors imprinting themselves amidst the withered curl of late-summer's dead leaves. Baked rust, old gold, burned copper: these surprising tones ride along bones, at joints, and re-awaken at trailing edges of his pinions. All these colors highlight and contrast the desiccation of body, the arbors of his wings giving shade and a promise of the rainy season sure to come. Only in the withered, dark mahogany of his claws - that coloration also found at very tips of neck ridges - can be seen the fiercest heat of the long summer that bore him. >----------------------------------------------------------------------------< "I wouldn't know. A'rist was nowhere to be seen the last time he did it. I even told him to get him and," with gravitas, "in case we all forgot, no dragon wanted me, last time. Forgive me if I'm not terribly hopeful that -- ah, grabby," Faryn cuts herself off suddenly, her wry expression leaving Edyis and Alida for the little thing that has taken the meat from her hands, apparently surprising her. She yanks her hand back like it's been nipped, though it hasn't, but recovers herself quickly. The smile for the little creature is a lot kinder than the rest of her expressions have been, at any rate, and Faryn's content enough to pluck another piece with her free hand from the cooling bowl to keep it coming, just in case the little brown lizard gets bored. The rumbling of the blue elicits a friendly nudge attempt from Ahtzudaeth, like as not to bring him back into the joyous moment that's unfolding. Still, his thoughts quickly turn to the little bronze and he is, in his own way, glowing as if he fathered the little thing. « The name-! That will be the most important part! » that bit is a bit louder than he clearly intended, for he clears his mental throat and offers an apologetic gape-maw grin to both his brother and Ilicaeth. "Good," Z'kiel replies, grunts, and nods to Alida for everything. "I'll do that." And even if he had half a thought not to? Ahtzudaeth would have his hide. There's a click of tongue against teeth at Edyis, a narrowing of his eyes - but, mostly, the bronzerider doesn't seem irritated. Which is the closest to amused that one will get, probably. Then again, maybe he's just distracted. He lingers long enough to see just which one claims Faryn's offering, but he's soon fading into the background to watch - and feed the nameless bronze until he slumbers. Edyis shivers at the thought of chasing alongside Lythronath. "I'm not saying the bronze isn't a problem," wrinkles working into her brow. "Maybe." Something unreadable in her expression, but it melts instantly as the brown finds his way over to Faryn, an easy laugh, "Aww he's cute Faryn." She notes. Amused, as she glances over at her friends. Then back on the sand. Akluseth seems dubious of the bronze's enthusiasm," For his rider, Edyis laughs, at the click of his tongue. Ya might wanna..." Alida begins. Too late, though, as the wee brown hatchling nabs meat, and causes Faryn to jerk backwards in reaction, the bluerider smirking a little and shaking her head, while the newborn firelizard hisses at the potential removal of food from its face. MINE! Keep it coming, human. At some point, the little brat even attempts to climb up on Faryn's hand and claim that which brings food. "I know they're...well, A'rist's workin' on it..." Alida comments to Edyis. They *did* take off to Ierne for awhile. Shrug. Z'kiel's words have the blonde nodding silently at him, not bothering the bronzerider as he withdraws to concentrate fully upon his new companion, who is quickly asleep...unlike Faryn's new 'buddy...' and the only other egg that's currently in motion. The orange-streaked, pale-yellow egg - once mostly-covered by sand - hitches and heaves upward and side-to-side, more striated cracks forming in a random latticework all over its surface - until one massive lurch nearly sends it spinning out of the basket...teetering precariously upon a straw side. Pyrite squawks loudly, fans her wings, and Mime shrills in tandem, lunges forward...while Alida utters an odd little squeak of consternation. "Ow. Ow. Ow." Each syllable is a complaint as tiny claws dig in and clamber for purchase on her hand, with Faryn using her other hand to grab a piece of meat and shove it, forcefully, into the little brown's mouth while trying to avoid the teeth there. "Little cuss," she says of him, but there's an automatic protective instinct in the herder too: maybe it's craft training, to want to take care of tiny animals; maybe it's just that she has ovaries. Either way, if only to stop him climbing higher, Faryn draws her hand against her chest to hold him there snugly so she can continue the methodical application of meat while she splits her attention between Z'kiel, Edyis, and the tiny sands. If she reflexively tries to extend a hand again - and is complained at by her new friend - then it's only the desire to catch the egg, before it shatters on the hard floor. "He isn't," Whatever she wants to say in defense of the bronze is lost then. "They are a little rough, but that isn't all there is to him." She says of A'rist, though if it's just what she wants to believe, or the truth? Edyis is darkly amused watching Faryn and the brown, "Well at least his claws are tiny." But suddenly she is on her feet, reaching out in tandem with Faryn, a turn of dealing with her lifemate's precarious tumbles well ingrained into her reflexes. "Damn egg's got a death wish or something." Needle-sharp little claws they are indeed, and the tiny brown has no knowledge of how to *not* use them, yet. Faryn's going to have to teach him restraint...and other things, like not inhaling his food, or shrieking like a banshee in protest when his human perch lurches forward to save a fellow egg. At least Edyis (along with Pyrite and Mime) was on-the-ball...and that rocking, cracking, orange-streaked egg finally plummets towards...the brownrider's fingers and palms, where it shatters 'softly' (as compared to crashing upon stone), releasing a very-surprised-looking firelizard that quickly snuffles around Ed's palm in search of food. Alida almost wilts in obvious relief at the smooth save, then slowly notes in wry tones to the brownie, "Congratulations...an' watch out fer yer skin." Smirk. >----< Edyis' Green >----------------------------------------< Refined of form, lithe and long of limb and body, this dewy-eyed, vital green lady moves with the bold energy of one that is forever-youthful. An ingenue gaze - rather reminiscent of her dam's - is set beneath fine eyeridges arched in such a way as to suggest benevolently humored examination... while long, slender headknobs dip in slightly concave fashion above. Her hide is a blossoming landscape of tender greenery: first-grass' paler shoots, unfurling leaves and buds, complex swirls of tiny ivy creepers weaving their harmony of re-awakening life in complex designs... paling to sun-hazed green at shoulders and long back. Upon flexing claws and long, slender wings, a hue closer to champagne reigns amidst veils of rich moss and sage, touched with smudges of near-true gold...as if nascent sunlight dapples through her 'sails. >----------------------------------------------------------------------------< Defense of A'rist or his bronze are forgotten in that moment, and perhaps the first thing her new companion is going to have to learn is patience. "No," she scolds, missing the cracking of the egg because she's turned her gaze very firmly on the hungry and whirling eyes of the brown, and there are long moments in the middle there where no amount of tiny clawing or angry shrieking will get him what he wants. She's still got him tucked very close, anyways, so eventually he'll have to calm, and she'll have to praise, softly, "Good," when he does, and more meat will be his reward. "You're not going to let me sleep tonight, I bet," is only fair, as the ex-crafter rocks back on her heels to find her feet, her gaze finding the green finally with a little breath of amusement. "She's going to be a handful. She looks like...Yesia, in the eyes." And that's just cruel, isn't it? But Faryn's picking up her bowl now, with a large piece of meat to tide her over as she tries to head back to her seat with her companion in tow, apparently keen on its comforts compared to leaning. Akluseth snorts. « Serves you right, told you they were useless. » Firelizards, he must mean. Since Edyis is staring at the tiny green in her palm, brows furrowed. "You are supposed to be way, way bigger and a boy. Just look at you, you'll never be big enough to deliver parcels." Sigh. "They aren't all really stupid are they?" Green firelizards she must mean, but meat gets nudged closer to the creature in her palm. "At least you are pretty I suppose." There's a dark, murderous look thrown at Faryn for the Yesia comment. "Don't even think such horrible things." So cruel Faryn, So cruel. Still she reaches to stroke the tiny creature carefully with a fingertip, a smile starting to work into her expression despite herself. Oh, the bittersweet irony of this particular Impression! There's restrained amusement in Alida's eyes as she silently regards rescuer and rescuee...one hand quickly flying to cover the huge grin that comes at Faryn's words of Yesia. Nope, not saying a word, over here...for once. Ahem. To cover her dark amusement, the bluerider turns to the once-Crafter and notes to her, "Be careful not ta stuff 'em beyond full, or they'll get thicktail...er, bound-up." Beat. "They'll letcha' know when they're hungry, mostly. It'll be frequently, at first, then slow down as time passes." How oddly easily the often caustic bluie slips into dragonhealer mode. "Oil 'em often, too...they're growin' hideously fast, like dragons. They show you...make ya feel their emotions, too, and vise-versa." Thiiink. "Any uv you have any questions, problems about 'r with 'em, talk ta the dragonhealers." Which, apparently, she doesn't yet really believe herself to be one of. Over to Edyis, of flit intelligence is noted somewhat factually, "I've seen bronzes as dumb as posts, so why not smart greens?" Nose-wrinkle. "Ilicaeth's a smart blue, Lythr..." Oh my. Did Alida just manage to self-censor? Maybe she's making progress. Ahem. "Teach 'em well, kiddies..." the blonde quietly ventures to those left in attendance, a vague smirk-smile touching one corner of her mouth as she dips down to a squat to stroke a fingertip over proud Pyrite's head and neck...while Mime unexpectedly climbs up her arm and shoulder, and soon nests deeply within unbound hair. Heh. Faryn's nod is absent as she listens to Alida, but she is listening undoubtedly. She doesn't seem the sort to do anything of the sort, at any rate, and is pacing the brown just enough to keep him from squawking -- and withholding when he gets too bossy or demanding. When he pauses, she does too, to examine the scrapes on her hand and wrist. "Yesia was pretty," she points out, pulling the brown into a little hug as she settles in, perhaps for the night. The way she pulls her jacket up certainly says she may stay, but she's at least taking breaks for her klah as she tries to soothe the fiesty firelizard into submission, so she might continue her own rest. Edyis glares at Faryn. But Alida's words seem to mollify her concerns about the small green. "Well then we shall lay some ground rules little lady. No being stupid, and definitely no extending your proddiness to me." She watches the others, and smiles a little at the bluerider. "You are enjoying this way too much just so you know." Settling in to let the tiny green feed to her heart's content. And Alida? Again - and perhaps wisely - the woman remains silent at Edyis' statements, ample hints of her sassy humor found within green eyes, however...though they remain turned down upon Pyrite as the little gold chirrups, curls up on the basket of sands that still contains 5 slumbering eggs, and assumes quiet guard. Bluerider and cadre will remain here for another hour while the low fire in the hearth re-warms those nearby sands to proper intensity to last the whole night...then departing for their weyr with much less haste than their precipitous arrival. |
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