Diem, H'rik, Vosji, Ainslee, Iandicael, Daenerys, Fergus, Talya, Xanthee, Ziniel, Kepi, Eala, Ko'an, Kyriatis, R'xim, Th'res, Nasrin And anybody else add yourself!


Wendryth And Zsaviranth (but mostly Wendy) invite everybody to come watch their latest clutch hatch into the world!


It is afternoon of the sixteenth day of the seventh month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Igen Weyr - Hatching Caverns

OOC Date 24 Mar 2018 05:00


igen sands


The out-of-doors of Igen Weyr seems a blissful respite from the oppressive heat of this sandy colosseum. Heated from beneath by volcanic vents, the air above the hatching sands shimmers, lending a sort of unreal, dream-like quality to the area beyond even the magic that happens here at Impressions. Despite its blistering temperatures, the sands are incongruously soft, almost powdery, and flat save for the worn stone queen's bower that rises up to break the monotony and provide a place of respite for the doting mother-to-be.

<Igen Weyr> Raktraeth senses that: Wendryth thinks « « IT IS TIME! » Wendryth's voice booms out to all and sundry, dawn's golden rays illuminating the mists of his ancient mindscape. « GATHER, FOR MY CHILDREN SHALL SOON MAKE THEIR ENTRANCE INTO THIS WORLD! » Can you tell that he's just a smidgen proud of the occasion? »

<Igen Weyr> Raktraeth senses that: Rajakhelath stirs from her vantage of the Weyr Pass. Sulfuric brimstone yellows her words. « I appreciate the warning. »

Meanwhile, in the Barracks

It's mid-afternoon and it's DRY and HOT and TERRIBLE out, so likely many if not all of the candidates were indoors already. Chores being re-tooled for safety and lack of heatstroke being an important priority. But then it happened. The humming. The Weyr-shaking, ground-possibly-breaking, everyone-startled humming, beginning with the clutchparents and spreading to the entire Weyr, beckoning the candidates back to the Barracks. Vosji lies in wait, watching and commanding as everyone who wasn't already there files in: "Quickly, now. If you haven't done this before, keep your eyes on someone who has if you need help. Robes, sandals. You may have a small waterskin if it isn't important to you, since if you Impress you probably won't get it back. Do NOT go barefoot or I will be sure a dragon doesn't choose you." How? Who knows. But she will.

Fergus had been doing his best to keep cool. And that meant sprawling on his cot, fine-tuning a bit of carving work with his whittling knife. Then the humming starts, the minor vibrations enough to set off his knife juuuust enough to foul up a detail. Fergus scowls at his work, unsure what happened … and then it hits him. He's surprisingly calm after that, setting aside both knife and carving on the cot and rifling around to try to find his robe and sandals, grunting with effort and haste. It doesn't help being short at this point in time. Eventually he's out of his clothes and into his robe, apparently not caring who sees his hairy bod (sorry if anyone is nearby - lots of back hair!) Then he's lining up with the rest of the candidates, tugging at the hem of his robe absently to try to cover more of his legs … but no go. So the rest of Pern gets to see hairy legs. Oh well. He has sandals on, at least.

Edlsesa has been working on the last touches of her robe. And then, then comes that deafening, ear-splitting hum. Being in the barracks already is a blessing. She jumps up and begins to change immediately into her robe and sandals, plaiting her hair into a braid after. It's a messy one, but it gets her hair off her face and neck. Her heart hammers against her chest with nervous excitement, but hey, that's normal right?

Ainslee is one of those filing in, hair damp - sweat? water? The latter, judging from the towel slung over her shoulder. "Of course it would be today," she grumbles to no one in particular, making a bee-line for her cot and pulling out her robe. "It's only the hottest day ever." Exaggeration much? She makes quick work of donning her robe and shoving sandals on her feet, filing into line with the rest.

Daenerys isn't quietly freaking out in his head, not at all: never mind the fact that he's just pacing back and forth like an agitated cat,chewing at his lower lip. But oh, my, here's Vosji to chivvy them into their lovely dress — er, robes, and so he flings himself at his bunk to retrieve the thing and yank it on, losing the pants afterwards. Nobody needs to see some things do they. He'll strap on his sandals and sidle over to his sister and leans in, "You ready for this?"

Iandicael isn't often in a great mood, to be fair, but today the oppressive heat is just feeding that feverish anger which burns him up from the inside. Rather than lash out at any of his fellow candidates, the man found himself a quiet corner in the bowels of the Weyr — but any attempt at solitude is destroyed when those dragons begin to hum. The looming man is late in his arrival, almost as though he considered not coming at all, but he does eventually make his appearance. He silently gets himself ready, refusing to make eye contact with any of his fellow candidates. If someone is expecting to hold his hand, they'll be sorely disappointed.

Xanthee was in the necessary when the humming started so it didn't take her long to make her way back to the Barracks, quickly darting past the more dumbstruck candidates to find her bunk all the way in the back. Reaching into her small trunk, she pulls out her candidate robe and pulls her short tunic dress up over her head, modesty be damned, before pulling her robe on.

Talya is using this very lucky time off from the heat to get a nap in. She has been caring for a hungry and demanding little baby firelizard that's been keeping her unnecessarily awake at all hours, any little sleep is a miracle. When the humming starts, she still doesn't wake up right. Passed out. Then Vosji is there and someone jostles her in their haste. "What is your problem?" She growls out, groggily, then immediately comes fully awake. Humming! The gold hatchling, for once, is looking perfectly innocent on Tal's pillow and comfy. No clinging to her human. Some instinctual understanding? Who knows. Either way Talya doesn't seem to remember about the Beast and throws on the white robe from her trunk. She's jumping towards the rest of the candidates, trailing, still putting on her sandals.

Ziniel was sitting on her cot. The shiny little bauble she found not so long ago being turned in her hands. At the start of the humming, Zini shoves the bauble at the first person she sees before she's quickly changing from what she'd been wearing and into her hatching robes, "Oh, thanks?" she says as the bauble is handed back to her. Vosji is given a salute, and then she's shoving the bauble back onto her cot. A gift for whoever takes up residence next? Or maybe she'll take it with her? She doesn't know yet, and at this moment it doesn't matter.

Vosji glances at the group, watching the hand-holdings and not-hand-holdings and inspecting to be sure that people aren't doing anything stupid. No one is, for instance, carrying a piece of meat. Or anything alive that might be mistaken for one — Talya's baby firelizard actually gets a half-smile out of her — before a final nod and a that-way beckon with both hands. "All right, then. Off we go. Remember to bow first," is said in a tone that manages to be both soothing and commanding at once. "And do try not to melt."

Sesa blinks at Daen as he asks after her, that slow blink that one gives when they are nervous and a little shocked. "No. But it's going to happen anyway." She giggles nervously and looks over to Xanthee and grins. At least she's not the only one afraid to change in front of their bunk mates, they've only been doing it for weeks now. Shuffling into line, Sesa rubs at her arms after giving Vosji a proper salute. Here goes.

On the Sands, Where It All Begins

Hatchings, while everyone knows their coming, are still a mystery of timing. That's why when the dragons start humming, the cooks stoke the fires and the lower caverns springs into action. With Cremla on and off her feet from her pregnancy and Diem holding court on the sands, Nasrin busts hiney. Right now, she's trying to track down the Weyrherder to see which animals should be dinner, and it's kind of a bust. "Sinashal, have you seen him?" Is asked of one of the guards. His negative answer makes Nasrin, sleeves rolled, scrub at her hairline.

Sure, it's difficult to tell how candidates will turn out once they've impressed. Dragons have an influence on temperaments, and sometimes the rigors of weyrlinghood can do an irresponsible body good. Whatever plays out on the sands today doesn't really dictate anything, and yet Eala is here, very intent upon scoping out the possible additions to Parhelion's ranks. It never hurts to be pre-pre-prepared.

There's no real reason why a Southern brownrider— no matter where he Impressed— and his teenaged daughter should have come all the way to Igen for a hatching, not when there are so many clutches, in a Pass. And yet, here they are, nonetheless: L'riat and Kyriatis, the latter doing her best to appear unexcited despite the way she keeps leaning forward to get a better look, especially as the candidates begin to arrive on the sands. "Blue first," she decides, firmly. "I'm convinced."

From the Sands, The time has come. It's here. And the line of candidates shuffling their way onto the sands and the humming of the dragons is solid proof. Nervous looks are exchanged and nerves are frazzled and jumping, but it doesn't keep the row of white gowned candidates from bowing respectfully to the clutch parents once in front of them. The move is in unison, all bowing deeply before moving to take their places on the sands. Any moment now…any moment.

Th'res is one of those Southern visitors, sitting in the gallery watching down trying to see his friends that are candidates on the sands. Currently the blue rider is drinking from a water skin, because while it is a dry heat, it is still freaking HOT!!

<Igen Weyr> Raktraeth senses that: From the rich loam of the forest floor, tiny little seedlings begin to shoot up. Life. It finds a way. (Raktraeth)

<Igen Weyr> Raktraeth senses that: And then that life consumes all the pathetic little creatures that came before it. (Oriahysciath)

Kepi slips in along with a few others and after a brief pause, squeezes into a seat. The caravan girl is obviously curious, her first time in the weyr proper when a clutch started cracking on the sands. Escaping her mother was an easy task, easier than getting into the galleries and finding a seat. As robed candidates file in down below, she leans in, her gaze sweeping the line and watching as they take their bows to dam and sire, gaze darting back to the eggs to see which one might actually hatch first.

From the Sands, Xanthee looks around desperately for Daenerys once she's on the Sands and bowed to the clutch parents. Finally spotting him, she hops quickly into his direction, her hand reaching for his excitedly, to clasp it as she tries not to bounce up and down too much as her eyes wander to the Galleries, trying to pick out Malosim in the galleries.

From the Sands, Fergus actually grimaces at the solid wave of heat this time, no doubt amplified by the scorcher of an afternoon going outside. Not that much can be seen of such an expression, though, as it's hidden behind his epicly bushy beard. But it's there, no doubt. And his beard, long hair and general body hair isn't doing him any favors in this heat. There's already sweat beading on his face. As he straightens up from his bow, he pauses to wipe a hand across his forehead, grunting in some discomfort. He somehow finds himself near Talya in the straggling line and he rumbles at er, "Nearly time to be allowed booze again?" Hard to tell, but he's teasing. Then he has to focus on those rocking eggs, because ho knows when they might start their breaking.

From the Sands, Diem stands near Zsaviranth and casts a glance skyward at the ledges where Igen's dragons hum to encourage the eggs to crack. "At least you gave me a little warning this time." A quirked brow and a look is then directed at the senior queen, to which the gold replies with a rumble. H'rik is then on a receiving end of a nod when the candidates arrive — their bows accepted and entrance permitted. Was that an egg that just twitched right in front of them?

From the Sands, The time has come, the bow's been presented, and soon Ziniel finds herself clinging to the first hand she can find, "Hope this is done soon," she says to no one really. It's the nerves.

From the Sands, Iandicael doesn't have the advantage of being able to disappear into the crowd, given that he's one of the tallest candidates — if not the tallest — among the lot. Still, the ill-tempered man sticks to the rear of the group, scowling at the backs of the candidates who line up in front of him. If he thought the heat was bad before, nearly enough to bring a man to his knees now, and it's doing little to improve his humor.

From the Sands, Wendryth's deep hum intermingles with the voices of Igen's dragons; the bronze is there on the sands, wings half-open as he welcomes his children into the world! H'rik is here too, looking sweaty as much from the heat as from his hasty run from whatever he was doing to the sands. He's managed to flee to his weyr to change on the way, but the fresh white shirt is already showing sweat stains. Nice. He's stood by Diem, watching the candidates as they come out. "Maybe we should've got some waterskins for them," he can't help but comment, loud enough to be heard over the crowds - but hopefully not by the poor candidates.

From the Sands, Blood Soaked Lands and Seas of Red Egg appears locked in a tractor beam as its slowly pulled that way. No! Now abruptly it rotates in the other direction. Back and forth as some unseen entity seems to argue over controls of the helm. Wibble. Wobble. Wibble. Geeze, when can a guy break free?

From the Sands, Talya floods out onto the sands with the rest of the candidates with a face that looks to be borderline panic. These eggs were actually hatching now, or was it a dream? She scrubs at her face with one hand, still rubbing to get the groggy sleep out of her mind when she straightens up from her bowing. Someone just woke up. "They really pick the /worst/ day to hatch, didn't they? It's like walking on the surface of Rukbat." This is said in a low rumble to anyone in particular near her. But then Fergus's words sink into her mind and she snorts. "You mean another turn when the dragons are grown. You ready to get shaved?"

From the Sands, Last Light of Durin's Day Egg shimmies a little in place but otherwise looks completely still. If there's magic happening here, it's doing it quietly! For now.

From the Sands, Daenerys will happily tangle his fingers with Xanthee's, as promised! He, too, scans the Galleries, though it's likely too hot in this great cave for Reveka to tolerate it easily. He's moving back and forth in that familiar Sands Jig all candidates are known for; sandals or not, the stuff is trying to burn skin off his feet! Blood Soaked Lands and Seas egg gets a stare. And then another. "Hell." He says to Xanthee, nervously.

From the Sands, Ainslee scatters with the rest of them - well, fans out at a slow walk, anyway. She falls in line with the other candidates, ending up on the other side of Fergus. "That's what you're thinking about?" She's chuckling a little as she overhears him. Her gaze is fixed out at the eggs.

From the Sands, Vosji finds her way clutchparent-wards after ushering the candidates in, taking a place to stand by H'rik and Diem to watch the unfoldings until she has weyrlings to wrangle toward the previously-prepared food. All that prep work had been essentially done and waiting to be unveiled, and that is what good assistants are for. Iskanzivoth up on the gallery ledges watches with a twitch of his tail, clearly wishing he were down there with amongst the cracking shells.

Despite Rajakhelath's retort to Wendryth, she gathers her wings and joins the choir of dragons around the hatching cavern to await what would be her grandchildren in human sentiments. Rather than track him down by foot, Nasrin sends word for the Weyrherder by dragon-thought to meet her in the galleries. This will buy a few moments for her to gawk at the hatching. "What's the common favorite for color this time?" She asks a force of guards, two of them off-duty.

From the Sands, Edlsesa straightens from her bow, an extra look given to queen and mate before scuttling off to her position on the sands. She makes her way over to her brother, and Xanthee, familiar faces in a heated storm. It's hot and already she feels a bit queasy. But then…eggs are moving, and her attention is riveted, saving her hands, which reach out for Daen and Xan, she hadn't expected to be afraid too!

Agertha makes her way up to the stand with her small family, "Just sit still, and watch," she says softly. She wishes Kestrath were close enough for her to see.

"Blue, blue, blue," repeats Kyriatis, as if willing the eggs— any of the eggs— to prove her right. "Brown," declares her father, the forty-ish brownrider, though with rather less heat. The teen gives her father a brief glance, gaze sweeping about the galleries with idle curiosity, before inexorably moving back towards the eggs: come oooooon, geez.

All of that blonde hair is piled atop Eala's head as the greenrider makes her way to a seat. She absolutely flashes her knot to improve her spot, searching out a locale which will give her the best vantage point to watch all those fidgeting bodies on the sands. There's care taken to find a spot with a second seat open beside it, knowing that she likely won't be alone for long.

From the Sands, Fergus snorts a rumbling laugh at Talya's retort, "Still closer than it was yesterday. Not looking forward to a shave, though." He wipes at his forehead again and makes another annoyed grunt, "Had to be this hot." Ainslee is given a bob of his bushy head and a grin from behind that massive beard of his, "Bit of a tease at Talya's expense. She misses the booze." He makes an amused grunt. Then he has to focus on the eggs, because .. well .. wouldn't do to be trampled because of not paying attention.

Varli settles in the first place she can find. Oooh. Look, there's Ziniel! She would wave, but the girl looks far too nervous to care if anyone from Zingari is there or not.

From the Sands, Oh sibling rivalry. It's a beautiful thing that seems to start awfully early for some. It's a BOY! and I WANT CANDY! Eggs both wibble and wobble until they're toppling onto each other. There's a little more rolling before out come two nearly identical green dragons. Guess that one wasn't a boy anyways. There seems to be more arguments brewing as they both head for the same group of candidates, but they each find their match in riders that seem almost as alike as the dragons. Twins?

From the Sands, Talya gives the hairy man a grin at the laughter, even if she is on the receiving end of the teasing as well. "That is a good point." She gives Ainslee a quick glance as she joins them, her eyes then traveling to Iandicael. They're all sort of in the same area, and she starts with the swaying, keeping one foot off the sands at a time. "I will drown myself in booze when I'm allowed again, I'll tell you that." There's a sharp intake of breath, as eggs hatch, and she stiffens suddenly. It's actually happening. There's no calls to congratulate, just silence.

From the Sands, Xanthee tightens her fingers on Daenerys' when her attention is brought from the Galleries to the matter at hand, that being the eggs that are now rocking all around her. Being back on the Sands is strange and familiar all at once, and her own anticipation tempers any fear she might be feeling. When she spies Sesa, her hand reaches out for the harper's, giving it a squeeze before her attention is pulled to the first pair of greens to hatch as she can't help a little squee of excitment bubbling out of her. "Here we go…" she says, beaming at her brother and his sister.

From the Sands, Ziniel shuffles from one foot to the next. Is she inching away from the eggs? Are the walls getting closer? She lets out a little squeak as the first egg starts to wobble, then the next egg starts, and there's another squeak. Perhaps there's just the slightest inch backwards? Perhaps not, there's people watching, and for all she knows her mother could be in the stands. Probably not though, "Do dragons often do that?" she asks whoever's closest as she points at the pair of greens that pop out of the same egg.

From the Sands, Daenerys will also tangle his fingers up with Edlsesa's — the more the merrier, at this point. They'll all helter-swelter out here together like the three Musketeers! "Oh, hell." Does he know he said that already? NOPE. He's a nervous thing today, and is all too happy to have his sisters out here with him, even as he glances over at the other Candidates. Goodness, alcohol sounds like a good plan. Too bad there isn't any. "Yeah. They're determined." He grins crookedly, and hopes, all the harder, that they all get a lifemate. Otherwise…. well. He's not thinking about it.

From the Sands, Ainslee nods, glancing around Fergus at Talya, "Oh, that's right." She's already shifting from foot to foot, smoothing sweaty hands on her robe. "Oh!" She lets out a noise of surprise at the first Impressions, and one hand goes up to cover her mouth. Then quickly switches to fanning herself.

From the Sands, Edlsesa watches as the first pair of greens appear, and make their way towards what looks to be twin siblings. She cheers for the impressions and moves her eyes back to the sands. She's heard of maulings, wouldn't want to be inattentive now, would she? Ziniel's question gets a shrug. "Maybe."

From the Sands, Fergus doesn't twitch or jump at the first crack of egg shells - he merely blinks slowly in surprise, his deep flat-toned voice rumbling out, "That was fast." His feet, too, begin the candidate dance - back and forth back and forth on the sands. Talya is given another rumble of a laugh, "Tolerance'll be down. You'll make yourself pass out." As if mosto f them weren't in danger of passing out in this heat. Fergus already has a trickle of sweat sweeping down his face and into his beard.

Zisiene had been up in the back of the galleries when the humming started. Now she's stuck where she is, and wow! Twin greens! How common is that?

Kepi blinks, and like many others, is just as surprised to see twin dragons come out of an egg. Brows furrow a little as she tries to figure that one out, but then turns to see just who they might impress too, but with jostling bodies on the bench, and someone else coming into the galleries, she likes misses it.

"Greetings, Agertha," Nasrin hails the greenrider as she and her family crest the stairs. "The good spots are filling up fast." Eala had the right game plan to VIP her way closer to the arena's interior. "Come to cheer on some friends down there?" She asks Varli.

From the Sands, The pale shades of the Bal de Neige Egg contrast sharply with the dark brown hide of the dragonet who emerges. To a newly-hatched dragon, the distance between them and their Impressee seems like a long way, but he makes it, slowly but surely, big feet carrying him over to an Igen boy who drops to wrap his arms around his dragon's neck.

Kyriatis may be wrong, but she's undaunted anyway. "Green," she and her father say, more or less in symphony, the younger positively gleeful over it especially as she adds, "but blue next, definitely." The teen drums her fingers upon the light fabric of her trousers, already limp with sweat, and leans forward to get a better look— even if it means hanging a little close to whomever it is sits in the row in front of her. That'll probably make her good-natured groan when the next egg proves to be a brown more annoying.

From the Sands, Iandicael's scowl only seems to deepen has two greens hatch nearly simultaneously. Although his features read anger, there's a clenching and unclenching of his fist which reads anxiety through and through. This whole scenario is far different up close, and even his silent affirmation that he won't impress does little to make it less unsettling.

From the Sands, Talya drags a hand slowly across her forehead, sweat already starting to trickle down. She doesn't want any of that falling in her eyes, they need to see in case of charging dragons. "You really underestimate my tolerance," is said to Fergus with a smirk. "It'll be a great night." Her lips smack as if just imagining it. Or because she's already thirsty. "If we survive that long," she adds more lowly, starting to doubt the possibility of surviving this hatching.

Only ever fashionably late and on his own time, Ko'an arrives at the stairs of the gallery. He's briefly distracted by the bronze firelizard that is momentarily perched on his hand, then sent off in an annoyed chattering and flapping of wings above the crowd that otherwise drowns it own. As always, seas part for him, the bold, dark haired man searching the ocean of heads for the crown of gold tresses which serves as a subtle beacon from afar. It doesn't take long for him to join Eala, no shame in taking advantage where there is some for better views. The man sits beside her, spread in his spot to claim more space than strictly necessary. An arm circles behind her, "Did I miss anything good yet, love?"

From the Sands, Wendryth rumbles a hearty welcome to the greens when they are the first to hatch! Bold daughters! Going forth and finding their lifemates! H'rik, grinning stupidly, watches those and the brown that comes next, to see who they choose. Little nods follow each Impression. He can keep up for now, but no doubt as things get more intense, it'll be harder to do so.

From the Sands, Ziniel nods at Edlsesa as she shuffles her feet, "They're bigger than I thought they'd be," she says, though in honesty the dragonets are probably not that big. She'll watch the newly hatched while keeping herself in place. Then there's a brown, and he's found himself his bond straight away. Decisive dragonets are decisive.

From the Sands, Xanthee snickers at Daen repeating himself, "Yep, you said that already." she teases as her emerald eyes wander back over the sands. The brown hatchling from the Bal de Neige egg gets a warm smile when he finally impresses, showing her personal bias to dragons of that particular color. Her feet shuffles some more in the hot sand as her gaze wanders all over, seeking to find those few eggs that she liked especially.

R'xim is seated in the galleries with a few Arroyo wingmates, a redfruit in hand that he happens to take a big bite out of as he egg watches. It's almost as fun to people watch, too, and he might give a nod to Nasrin seated close by. He recognozes that hair of hers from a mile away~
From the Sands, Daenerys's gaze slides toward the remaining eggs, ignoring the sweat that's starting to dampen his robe. Why is it so hot. It's adding to his nervousness. "Haha , smarty pants." And he sticks his tongue out at Xanthee playfully. He turns to Edlsesa: "You see how she is? So lippy." But he's grinning like a maniac, from both neerves and the beginnings of excitement.

From the Sands, Vosji's standing near H'rik and Diem pretty much lasted about five minutes; she has since ushered those two greenriders to their food, with one of the assistants taking over the brown and his new lifemate. Mostly, the bluerider is nodding with approval. There's nothing to be disappointed about in any of these, at least.

From the Sands, Fergus huffs out a breath that's part sigh and part laugh at Talya's words, "Would rather water at this point." Maybe he's starting to see the error of his ways in keeping his full beard and long, braided hair for the hatching. That heat is starting to get to him - but the eggs seem to be popping fairly fast, surely he can make it. "Heat seems more dangerous than the hatchlings," he notes in his basso rumble, keen pale blue eyes watching the proceedings carefully despite the sweat trickling down his face at this point. He nods his head in a happy sort of way at the brown's impression.

"A couple have hatched already, two greens and a brown?" Eala responds, tilting her head to press a kiss to Ko'an's cheek. Unless she missed one with his arrival, which is entirely possible. "Nothing too remarkable yet." There's disappointment in those words, as though the greenrider is half hoping to see someone jump off the sands who will unquestionably be the best addition to Parhelion ever. She leans into her weyrmate's side, jostling her leg against his to try to reclaim some of that space. "The kids are around here somewhere."

From the Sands, Edlsesa is dancing from foot to foot now. She really should get a new pair of sandals. She laughs lightly at the exchange between Daen and Xan. "How exactly are you guys able to tease right now?" She looks over, eyes wide and glossy with excitement. The brown is given a cheer and giggles at Fergus' comment on the heat. "I bet we could cook a whole meal on the sands right now."

From the Sands, Ainslee purses her lips, still fanning at her face with one hand. "I hope no one passes out," she says, tracking the brown as he crosses the sands and Impresses. "Could be dangerous. Though I suppose they'd just drag him to the side? Would they keep him on the Sands, do you think, just in case?" She wonders out loud, to no one in particular.

From the Sands, Talya shuffles from one foor to the other, making a face at Fergus even without fully looking at him. "I think I have to agree with you on that." Her dark eyes watch the brown, but he's already gone and Impressed. Taking a moment to look away from the Sands, her eyes finally find the Galleries and gives them a brief search. She doesn't wave there, or take too long of a time, before she's back to watching eggs. "I thought we'd be worried about mauling dragons. Didn't even think about the heat."

From the Sands, Ziniel gives a shrug at Ainslee's question, "Probably not?" she answers, sounding less than sure about that. Fergus is given that same, overly round eyed look that Zini's giving everything right now, "You think it will take long?" someone's anxious, but for what it's hard to say.

From the Sands, A struggle is afoot, as Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red Egg continues to give a good fight! Eventually even its shell has to succumb to the battering from within and where the egg once was suddenly theres a bronze hatchling being unceremoniously released from his prison! Disorientated for sure, the bronze weaves and wobbles almost drunkenly to get to his feet, while red whirling eyes focus on the sea of white in the distance.
From the Sands, Dashing and bold, he carries it in spades and knows it! Proud and confident, his small stature is nothing, if even noted, compared to his patinaed hide. Wrought bronze, tarnished and blackened-dull, provides the base over which a molten storm surges. Whorled chaos reigns over his whipcord frame in liquid andalusite and the blinding hues of fiery whiskey, down to the dark obsidian curve of his talons. Sphalerite-shadows break through the tempest forged storms, further adorning limbs and tail with the subtle nuance of ornate markings in the play of light and shadow. Rugged features are dusted and burnished to a duller pyrrhotite hue, adding a sense of age despite his youthfulness as it sweeps back over headknobs and the curve of his neck. His large, broad wings are clouded as well, as bronze is tempered to weather-worn and battered brass along the edges.

"Master R'xim," Nasrin employing a trade name for the bronzerider. "Did you ever recover your glasses?" Recalling their last encounter in the infirmary. "At the very least, happy to see you attending the new launch of riders." Sinishal is coming, she can feel it through her link with Rajakhelath.

From the Sands, Fergus makes a noise deep in his throat that signifies disgust at Edlsesa's joke, "Food? Now? Don't mention it." Because despite his rock solid exterior, his stomach is probably a jumble of nerves. The heat really isn't helping. The frequent wiping at his forehead really isn't doing anything to stem the flow, so he really just tries to keep it out of his eyes as best he can. Surely the rest of the candidates are also sweatballs at this point, so they can be sweaty in solidarity together! "Probably take them off the sands," is Fergus' basso reply to Ainslee, "If they're out, they can't dodge baby dragons." Seems sensible to Fergus, though it's another impetus /not/ to pass out and he's going to be doing his best to stay upright until all the eggs are hatched. And then suddenly there's a bronze. Fergus blinks at this new arrival, "Oh. Nice."

From the Sands, Xanthee chuckles at Daenerys' stuck out tongue, not at all bothered. To Sesa though, she just smiles warmly, "You know our brother, how does it not come easily to you to tease him?" Then there's a bronze on the sands and she is distracted again, clutching her hands in the others' she is standing with. "Oh isn't he cute! So little for a bronze!" she says, her voice taking on it's usual bubbly tone.

From the Sands, Iandicael isn't truly paying attention to the conversation going on around him, but he does catch the last of Ainslee's question. "They'd keep him. You think they care about us more than the dragons?" At least he's finding something other than his family to resent? Dark eyes keep glancing toward the eggs, but as long as none of those creatures approach his flanking position, that scowl won't grow any deeper.

OOC Note: So awesome we hatched him twice

From the Sands, A struggle is afoot, as Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red Egg continues to give a good fight! Eventually even its shell has to succumb to the battering from within and where the egg once was — suddenly there's a bronze hatchling being unceremoniously released from his prison! Disorientated for sure, the bronze weaves and wobbles almost drunkenly to get to his feet, while red whirling eyes focus on the sea of white in the distance.

Hero and Scoundrel Bronze Dragonet
Dashing and bold, he carries it in spades and knows it! Proud and confident, his small stature is nothing, if even noted, compared to his patinaed hide. Wrought bronze, tarnished and blackened-dull, provides the base over which a molten storm surges. Whorled chaos reigns over his whipcord frame in liquid andalusite and the blinding hues of fiery whiskey, down to the dark obsidian curve of his talons. Sphalerite-shadows break through the tempest forged storms, further adorning limbs and tail with the subtle nuance of ornate markings in the play of light and shadow. Rugged features are dusted and burnished to a duller pyrrhotite hue, adding a sense of age despite his youthfulness as it sweeps back over headknobs and the curve of his neck. His large, broad wings are clouded as well, as bronze is tempered to weather-worn and battered brass along the edges.

Kyriatis earns a black glance or two for her enthusiasm— which is loud, and occasionally a little high-pitched— but the teen is certainly genuine in it: weyrbred or no, hatchings are clearly still exciting. "I like the colour of that bronze," she declares, brightly, politely avoiding comment on his slip, which clearly never happened. "They're cute when they're this small."

From the Sands, Daenerys can't help it, he gets it from his father! The man had been a positive genius, Daen has to carry it on. As the bronze hatches, he eyeballs it, trying not to laugh at Xanthee's squeal of adoration. "Really, now, all those browns you like so much are gonna get jealous!" He winks at Edlsesa. "To distract ourselves, m'dear." As for food, he shudders. "Don't even think about food!"

Ko'an hums in acknowledgement of the summary, a low quiet sound that's dissolved by the pleasure of the affection of her greeting as if he's forgotten the question. A smile turns against the shadows and scruff of his face, crooked by the nature of him, but becalmed by the moment. As she leans, his arm tightens, his other hand reaching up to brush a stray blonde strand from her face. "Aye?" This is when he'd finally turn some attention to the sands, seablue eyes harsher, cooler when he does so, particularly as they fall on the bronze just-shelled. He relents at the movement of her leg, though with a breathy, short chuckle. He'd just take that space from whatever unlucky soul is on his otherside. "Have there been bets made this time 'round?"

From the Sands, Edlsesa eyes the bronze, betting those are the ones that do the most damage. Or was it greens? Either way, the bronze is watched. "He is gorgeous. Too pretty for 'cute'." As for Daen, well… "Kanriel was always the one who could tease, I'm not so good at it." She chuckles and turns back around to the sands.

From the Sands, Ainslee nods, wiping sweat out of her eyes. "I figure that," she agrees with Ziniel and Fergus. "But the whole, destined Impression thing…" She has an admiring - and cautious - look for the bronze, more or less the same as she's had for all thus far. She blinks at Iandicael, and shrugs. "There's no clear evidence of that, so far."

Kepi allows herself to smile as greens find their mates, soon followed by a brown. And then there's not one, but two, bronzes on the sand. "Quite a handsome pair.." She half murmurs to herself, other's conversation to be given half an ear two.

From the Sands, Talya shakes her head after Fergus's words, maybe to get some hair out of her face. Having just woken up from bed, she must have forgotten to tie it back. "How would they get to someone passed out through this?" She actually has to agree with Iandicael's thoughts, saying, "What he said, probably. There are always more candidates than dragons for that reason, right?" Well, choices not.. deaths. The bronze on the sands gets a good long look, her lips twitching into a smile as he trips. "Careful with that one, may trip onto someone."

From the Sands, Vosji isn't quite awful enough to make unconscious or bleeding people stay on the sands — she doesn't make them. That doesn't actually mean that she tells them to leave, either. She probably doesn't care about any of you anywhere near as much as the dragons, no. Her eyes track the bronze as he makes his entrance and inspects the crowd, vocalizing only a, "Nice coloring on that one."

From the Sands, That's almost amusing, but not enough to get Ziniel to stop her every slow creep backwards. That ever so small scooch is stopped by the fact that there's someone holding her hand, and he tugs her to a stop, "I just remembered. I have…" her voice trails off as there really isn't anything she has to do except be here. On the sands. The hot, hot sands.

From the Sands, Hero and Scoundrel Bronze Dragonet shakes himself loose of those last remnants of his recent imprisonment. But it doesnt do to dwell on the indignities of the pass. With a mighty sigh, he steps onward to head to his next mission, except he doesnt get very far. The little bronze staggers left while his tail goes right and he slips into the sands. Nobody saw that, right?

From the Sands, Fergus makes a noise in his throat of uncertainty at Ainslee's words, "Can't do much when you're unconscious." Not even destiny ought to break through being passed out. He's very practical, Fergus. He keeps a wary eye on the bronze should he start to dart, his feet doing the dance back and forth on the hot sands. He puffs out a breath, already annoyed at the heat and the sweat and the general misery of being out here in what is essentially a white sack.

From the Sands, Iandicael's brewing frustration is itching at his skin, and it's taking far more effort to keep his temper in check than usual — and he's not very good at that at the best of times. "There's plenty of evidence. Look at us now. If they were worried about us, they'd be giving us water to stay hydrated in his heat. It's all about the dragons." He, at least, manages to miss the bronze's lack of grace, although there's a hint of confusion when he looks back and finds the creature has slipped. "They wouldn't let you stay passed out."

From the Sands, Last Light of Durin's Day Egg Last Light of Durin's Day Egg pitches wildly about, as if the sands have suddenly become the stormiest of seas. One last swell rocks the shadowy ovid and down she crashes! Only ruins of the shell remain, shards sticking to the dragonet's frame as she rises up from the wreckage. It doesn't take long to get her landlegs under her and off she strides to find her match.

Sorceress of Storm-tossed Seas Green Dragonet
From the tenebrous darkness of the deepest seas, she has risen and she will reclaim all that should be hers. Statuesque she is, with an innate and domineering charisma that radiates outward with every undulating step she takes. An abyssal brine washes over her hide, the ombre coloration ebbs and flows, from where it's darkest on her flanks and gradually lightens to her seafoam neckridges and headknobs. Washed in with this draconic tide, twisted strands of kelp drift across her wings and neck, tangling and snaring everything within their reach.

From the Sands, Xanthee can't help but giggle just a little bit as the bronze slips in the sand, "Gorgeous maybe, but absolutely adorable too." she quantifies to Sesa before nodding to Daenerys' explanation that the teasing is to help distract them. At Daen's tease back, she shakes her head vehemently, "Browns are still my favorite, but he's pretty good…for a bronze." More nervous laughter as she picks her sandaled feet off the burning sand as her eyes are pulled to the green that just hatched from the Durin Day's Egg. "Ohhhh pretty." she breathes softly.

From the Sands, Ainslee rocks forward on her toes a little - back and forth is a nice variance from side to side. It also means she's limber and ready to dodge as needed! "They said we could take a waterskin," she counters Iandicael. Of course, she doesn't have one, as it's hard to think straight when you're rushing and dragons are humming, but still. "Let's just - not pass out. Not anyone." She's distracted, then, by the hatching green. "I think they're speeding up."

From the Sands, Daenerys has to agree with Xanthee — fortunately, the beautiful green has distracted him from the bronze's slip. Good for him! "She is gorgeous," He breathes aloud, wondering who that little beauty will attach herself to.

From the Sands, Edlsesa can only giggle nervously at her siblings, though she is grateful for the distraction. However, she gasps when the newest green hatches. "Oh my…. Papa would have needed his paints if he'd ever seen her!" She points to the green. "Such a beautiful shade of green." Sesa can definitely appreciate the colors she's seeing hatch, like an expensive pallet full of prime paint.

From the Sands, Hero and Scoundrel Bronze Dragonet didn’t know that walking was quite so hard. But never tell him the odds! The only ones he’s concerned about is the 100% probability that hes walking off the sands with his lifemate. He wanders closer towards another cluster, but no. Theyre not the candidates hes looking for. A little bit too short for a weyrling if he thinks so himself. Maybe in the next group…

From the Sands, Sorceress of Storm-Tossed Seas Green Dragonet pauses in her wandering to peer towards the Candidates with both impatience and disappointment. Where or where did this one get off too? Even as she stands, her tail coils about her feet but she will not trip as she resumes her hunt.

From the Sands, Fergus straightens a bit as yet another hatches … and from one of the eggs that he actually /liked/. He examines the green thoughtfully for a moment and makes an approving noise in his throat before adding, "That one's rather nice, too." But there's only so many descriptive complements he can dish out to each dragon and only so many ways he can indicate how nice the colors on them are. He shifts from foot to foot and shakes his shaggy head, trying to rid himself of some of that trickling sweat. This heat is driving him mad, but he's trying not to show it.

From the Sands, The Toro! Toro! Toro! Egg cracks open, and the brown that emerges stamps all over the remaining shell, snorting and whipping his tail around. A blue hatches from the Feast Fit for a King Egg, his triumphant (if wimpy) bugle cut short when his brown brother charges straight past him, nearly bowling him over. While the brown quickly Impresses to a strapping young lad, the blue has to first recover his balance before he wobbles with less certainity towards an older candidate, but once he's there, Impression is made.

Eala merely rolls her eyes, because this isn't the first time Ko'an has asked about bets at a hatching. Nor the last, she's sure. "There are always bets made, Kor. I didn't make any, if that's what you're asking." The new green is eyed with interest, her gaze following the young dragon to see where she ends up. That bronze is ignored — not because he doesn't look like the sturdy type, but because Oriahysciath is keeping her own eye on the proceedings and wants nothing to do with him.

From the Sands, Talya does a little more shifting of her feet, but she's now more focused on picking the hair off her sweaty forehead and cheeks and trying to shove it back. "As if we had time to grab any waterskins," is grumbled a little grumpily. Okay, someone's bad attitude is starting to rub off on her. She even gives Iandicael a look as if to blame him. "They're all rather nice," she notes, because candidates do that right? She goes back to watching the bronze rather than the green. From the corner of her eyes she sees a brown charging and winces. "Well… guess baby dragons have to watch out or be trampled, too."

From the Sands, Vosji gave you a whole minute and a half to grab waterskins, c'mon guys!

From the Sands, A waterskin is pulled from some place that Ziniel was able to tuck it away. She takes a sip, and hands it off to Fergus, "Best get a sip, and pass it on," she says before going back to her not so subtle shifting away from the eggs. However she only shifts so far before stopping again to shuffle from foot to foot.

From the Sands, Xanthee is trying to look in the direction of all the eggs as they seem to be spilling hatchlings from all directions. The sweat beading on her forehead goes unnoticed as she shuffles along with her siblings and peers at that little bronze, then the green still wandering around. New brown and blue are then spotted and she watches as they find their lifemates. "Things are begining to speed up now." Xan mentions to no one in particular, just a random observation in the middle of the chaos of the Hatching.

From the Sands, I'm Awake! Egg is - AWAKE! The egg rocks back and forth urgently, its occupant very keen to get out of bed! Or - er - egg? The shell bulges on one side; then another. The egg jerks to one side, nearly toppling out of its hollow in the sand, then rights itself again. The tap-tap-tap can barely be heard, but it's insistent. The dragonet wants out!

From the Sands, Sorceress of Storm-Tossed Seas Green Dragonet doesn't have time to barter with the likes of those candidates. They're all unacceptable. None have quite that spark of something that she's looking for. She's a girl with some high standards and she just won't accept anybody for her collection err, lifemate. The storm's anger seems to build more as she lashes about with that tail, continuing on her quest to find the one.

From the Sands, Iandicael's dark look doesn't lighten any, but he still seems faintly amused to see his temper rubbing off on someone. Sharing the misery may not make it any less miserable, but at least it cuts down on the number of sunny smiles he's forced to endure. "Were we prepared to grab waterskins?" he points out, directing the words to both Ainslee and Talya at once. "They could be bringing us water now." Considering the amount of sweating the large man is doing, he's going to need it.

From the Sands, Fergus blinks in sudden surprise at a waterskin being shoved at him by Ziniel. He gives her a blank look as if to say 'where in the world were you hiding that and do I want to actually drink from it?' But he's so sweaty and thirsty that he grabs it and takes a greedy swig of the contents. He grunts a bit of thanks beore passing it off to Talya, "Here. Pass it on. No passing out." Then he has to go back to watching the green and bronze … because that green looks a little feisty and he doesn't want to be trampled.

From the Sands, Edlsesa winces as the poor blue gets bowled over by his brother. "Hey! Look! Proof that siblings are a pain!" Wait! Was that a tease? Maaayyybe! That green is eyed as it seems to take stock of the candidates in waiting. But then more impressions are made. There's too much to focus on!

From the Sands, Ainslee lifts the collar of her robe to dab at the sweat on her chin - nevermind the thing is pretty sweat saturated already. Ew. She watches the dragonets on the sand - bronze, green, brown, blue…

From the Sands, Daenerys is glad they are. The heat seems to double, then quadruple. Is he going to have sunburned feet soon? "Ha! Imagine that!" He retorts to Edlsessa. "Especially little sisters…" He eyes Sesa sidelon, grinning, before bouncing on his toes so that he might relieve some of that heat!

From the Sands, Talya's direction is actually pulled completely off the dragons when there's a waterskin in sight. She /stares/ at Ziniel. Appeared like magic. "Talk about being a life saver." She takes the skin gratefully from Fergus and chugs a good swig from it. Not a single drop remains on her lips. She holds it a second too long, than finally passes it to Ainslee

From the Sands, Ziniel gives a shrug, "You learn how to stow things on the road," she says simply as she watches the hatched dragonets, and the eggs yet to hatch. She stowed the skin when no one was looking. No one was paying attention to that ever so slight bulge in the top half of her white shift, no sense dieing from heat while waiting for the mauli… er… hatchings.

From the Sands, Hero and Scoundrel Bronze Dragonet has regained control of his disorientated state. No longer does he weave or move with uncertainty now he moves with a more staggered certainty towards a particular cluster of Candidates. Head held up, he'll voice a gruff series of warbles and mutterings that sound almost like curses and oaths. Why is everyone in HIS way!? MOVE. Yet as he approaches his destined meeting, his movements slow and now he swaggers with renewed confidence and calmer demeanor. Ahh… here we are! Time to barter a deal he already knows he'll be the winner and down the bronze settles himself in front of a dour looking, tall and dark haired young man. Yeah… Yeah! Youll do.
From the Sands, Hero and Scoundrel Bronze Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Iandicael, and steps forward.

From the Sands, Away, away! The occupant of the Up, Up, and Away egg certainly wants to get away! After more frantic rocking, the shell splits, and a large green falls out onto the sands. She's quick to get up, stumbling away from the clutch and towards the candidates. A blonde-haired girl is her choice, and the newly made pair are guided away by a weyrlingmaster.

From the Sands, Well that's a Candidate that will soon be out of the heat, "Congratulations," Ziniel calls after Iandicael, then she's back to watching the eggs and dragonets.

From the Sands, Ainslee accepts that waterskin like Talya's passing her the Holy Grail. If Pern had a Holy Grail. "Thank you," her gaze seeks out Ziniel and she raises the skin in a toast her way before taking a mouthful. She pauses, savoring, before turning and reaching it out toward Iandicael… and his dragon? She pulls her arm back, taking a small step away, eyes wide. "Oh, shells!" Geographically, it's the closest Impression to her so far. And in her surprise, she's still hanging on to that water. Sorry, guys.

Ko'an scratches at the base of his ear in response, an odd smirk returning after the distraction the bronze's hatching had briefly granted. There's always more than one reason he comes to these things, but the main two are both blonde. Yet, the chance to swindle is.. too hard for the stygian pair to pass up, not when such a grand portion of the Weyr is invested, that is. "Maybe one of these days, darling, you'll entertain one of our pools." Labeled 'ours' as if already won, of course. "Any particular investments in one or two of these scoundrels, or are you here more for a moment with yours for after?" Warm, charming tones mixed with that accented, deep gravely voice lowers in volume for that remark.

From the Sands, Fergus grunts in bafflement at Ziniel, "I don't want to know where you kept that." Because the water really helped and he does not want to think about what sort of things may have been lingering on that skin other than sweat. He looks back to the eggs just in time to see the bronze impress and he gives a nod of his bushy head and a grunt of approval.

From the Sands, I'm Awake! Egg The I'm Awake! Egg wibble-wobbles, the shell trying to resist the insistent battering that the occupant is giving it. A crack appears, grows, and then the egg can hold together no longer. No more time for sleeping! The white shell shatters into pieces, a skinny blue hatchling tumbling out in a tangle of legs and wings. It takes him a moment of scrambling to find his feet, but once he's upright, he gives a squeaky bugle. Hello world! Here he is!
From the Sands, Herald of the Neverending Tale Blue Dragonet
From the Sands, This blue is all length, a skinny thing. Bright eyes are set in a finely-boned face, the twinkle of mischief in the facets as they peer out at the world. The tilt of his head is curious, the hint of a smile always present at his jaw. Sharp, swept-back ridges are dotted down his slender neck and into his muscular back, gradually growing smaller down the length of his sinuous tail. Woad is his colouration from head to toe, rippling over muscles that linger beneath hides surface; the subtle impression of texture is evident up close, the faint striations particularly apparent on broad sections of his form. His wingsails are expansive, painted with the translucency of pale celestrine. His paws are tipped with silvered talons, stubby in comparison to the length of his digits.

From the Sands, Sorceress of Storm-tossed Seas Green Dragonet turns her jewel faceted eyes toward Fergus, and steps forward.
From the Sands, Whether its wind or something more mysterious directing Sorceress of Storm-Tossed Seas green, the little hatchling blows from one clump of candidates to the next. So far each one has been met with a dismissive snort. Shes a girl with standards and none of them will do. After it seems like shes inspected practically everybody on the sands, finally she pulls herself up to her grandest posture and makes a bee-line straight for formerly Southern woodcrafter.

From the Sands, Xanthee has to laugh at Edlsesa's teasing, "See? It helps." she says as her eyes track the bronze…right over to the dour looking dark haired man. "Wow! I would never have put marks on him impressing." She says with clear surprise in her voice although she will call out her congratulations to the new pair before wandering her eyes over the Sands once more just in time to see the dark green make for Fergus, which brings a whoop from Xanthee.

From the Sands, Puppy Power Egg practically whines as it wiggles with excitement. Something is happening! It can feel it! Its just so, so, ready to meet you! The shell practically shimmers with the barely contained anticipation as the occupant within does a little shimmy trying to get out. Not yet, but soon. SOON!

From the Sands, And then there's that green, and she's heading towards… "Fergus, congratulations," she offers as she steps backfrom the hairy now weyrling. All that hair, and soon he'll have to get rid of most of it. Poor thing. Kind of.

From the Sands, Daenerys shakes his head in bafflement. "Well, a dragon knows, they say." He doesn't know, either! The green choosing Fergus gets a whoop of surprised glee. "And he got one!" He'd point, but the girls have his hands, so he'll settle for a bounce or two. "Let's see where the blue goes…" It's starting to be a fun new game, seeing where these crazy creatures will wander off to. Who they'll choose!

From the Sands, Talya did not see that bronze getting /closer/ because she was busy enjoying the water and passing the skin and just sighing in relief to get some moisture in her. She jumps a little, startled to suddenly see the bronze as close as he was. Thankfully he wasn't tripping again all over the place at them again. "Well, there goes that one. Miserable no longer, I hope," she says to Iandicael— who probably wasn't paying attention. Turning her head away, there's then a /green/ in fron tof them too. She sucks in a breath, watching her approach Fergus and then lets it out with a little laugh. "She's definitely gorgeous, and I look forward to seeing your bare face in the future." That's as close to a congrats as she will get for the bearded man.

From the Sands, Edlsesa can't keep up with the impressions, but as some of those she's been in close quarters with impress, she cheers loudly for them, her own nervousness fading for the moment. She whistles and dances from foot to foot, even if it causes her to sweat more. "Oh, lucky Ian!" She murmurs to her sibs, and then cheers again as Fergus is taken by the gorgeous green.

From the Sands, Iandicael will have some words later for the fact that this damned bronze appeared just as he was about to get his hands on that waterskin, but for the moment, the anger-driven man is thrown entirely off kilter. He stares blankly at the overconfident creature poised in front of him, scorning that swagger even as some strange form of affection settles itself in his bones. He shakes his head to clear it of strange visions and frustratingly catchy music. "Tuanhjaliteth?" His tongue trips over the syllables, too heavy and thick in his mouth. It must be the lack of water, and not… this. Whatever this is. "Grub…" The bronze will have to take the lead on this one, because Iandicael seems incapable of basic functions.

From the Sands, Puppy Power Egg Can the butt of an egg twitch? Do eggs even have butts? Regardless of the answer to that particular quandry, the base of Puppy Power Egg gives a good wiggle. And pauses. Then another wiggle, as if the dragonet inside is testing and waiting. A few moments pass and then — boom! The egg tumbles top over bottom over top, cracking right down the middle when it comes to a stop. From the shards tumbles a tiny, mossy green. And yes, she did land on her feet!

From the Sands, Always Lands on Her Feet Green Dragonet
From the Sands, Though she be but little, she is fierce. Every inch a tiny huntress, perfectly in proportion for her ultimate purpose. Mossy greens cling to the steep slopes of her flanks, springing up from the dark and wild heath of her belly. Her head and neck prowl through misty clouds that cling to her olive hide, threatening a rain that never quite comes, but wisps of fog reach out to brush against thorny wingtips and spars, softening their jagged nature in appearance, if not reality.

From the Sands, Vosji's lips are a thin line that belays no emotion in either direction at first, though she allows her mouth to turn up into a smile at the broody Akzhan boy's Impression of the bronze — maybe the disapproval at first was over the waterskin passing? But she'd told them that was okay. Fergus' Impression is also noted — that hair is going to be an experience — and Vosji steps over to the new bronzerider first. "Tuanhjaliteth," she repeats very carefully, "You two can come this way and get something to eat, hm?" She'll help out Iandicael's motor function issues.

From the Sands, The Ain't No Party Like an Igen Party Egg Cuz An Igen Party Egg Don't Stop Egg and Farolito Egg both break shell, a blue and green respectively emerging into the disorientating heat of the hatching sands. The blue knows immediately who he wants, and leaves with a young Igen lad; the green takes a bit longer to find the right match, but eventually it's a proud man Searched from outside the Weyr who gets to walk away with her at his side.

From the Sands, Fergus is totally caught off guard at the sudden appearance of a green dragonet in front of him. He stares at her, rather dumbstruck. And either he's forgotten to breathe or the heat has gotten to him, as he begins to wobble and then sinks to his knees in the sand, woozy. Eventually, after what seems like forever, he inhales a huge gulp of air as though he were surfacing from deep water, eyes suddenly wide. Thankfully the green is there in front of him, as he reaches out to steady himself, still on his knees in the scorching sand. "Szokanith," he echoes in his basso rumble, blinking plaintively up at the green. Fergus, now E'gus, seems rather unable to say much more. It's only the frantic urgings from his new green that get him to struggle to his feet unsteadily, his breath still coming a it ragged as though he were out of breath or maybe near to passing out. Maybe both.

Weyrherder Sinishal finds some space between torsos to jut a shoulder and let himself through. "Weyrwo— ah, there you are!" It's not too hard to locate Nasrin as she stalks the entrance lane. "Dairmot didn't tell you? He knows which beasts are best for eating, yeosh. What do I instruct that lad for," the man shakes his head and looks both humored and frustrated. "I'll see to it, weyrwoman." Nasrin, grateful the Weyr can serve something other than broth and bread, shows some relief in her wave of the Weyrherder. "May it be done." She steals another peek at the sands, trying to discern impresses from this distance.

From the Sands, Ainslee still has that skin in hand, attention caught briefly by the new blue dragonet, and then it's Fergus Impressing. "Oh, he will have to shave that, won't he?" She says, hearing Talya. "She's lovely. And he's -" she looks back over toward Iandicael and his bronze, "a mouthful. Tuanh-something?"

From the Sands, Herald of the Neverending Tale Blue is freeee! Wow, look at all this! He peers at the huge world he's hatched into, big eyes blinking. Wooooah. He cranes his head up to look at the distant ceiling, nearly falling over in the process. When his head drops back down, he spots the white-clad candidates and lets out an excited cry. Oh! Oh! He wants to go say hello to them now! Getting his feet in order, he starts to hurry that way.

From the Sands, Xanthee is just hopping from one foot to the next, watching helplessly and in awe as more dragonets around her find their lifemates. Shooting a glance at Sesa and Daen she turns at the blue's excited cry and it brings a nervous giggle, "Awww, he's saying hello!"

From the Sands, Talya has all but forgotten about the eggs hatching, because two Impressions were made right next to her and being front row to this sight seems to actually put a little smile on her face. She shakes it off after the men start directing their new lifemates off and away. "That's going to be fun to say," she says in regards to the bronze's name. "Don't even ask me to try saying that." She starts the shifting again, and if it makes her get closer to Ainslee then all the better. "Definitely most if not all of it," she agrees with a snicker. The puppy egg hatching gets an intake of breath. One of the eggs she rather enjoyed, after all.

From the Sands, A blue bursts forth from the Wicked Hairy Devil Egg, running for the candidates. He doesn't make his choice straight away, circling a couple of hopeful boys before he headbutts the legs of his chosen girl, creeling happily.

From the Sands, The polished shell of the Test Your Medal Egg melts away into a thousand shards, revealing the brown who was fighting his way out. With a triumphant creel, he runs, strips, and stumbles into the legs of a young man. down he goes, too, but any injuries are lost in the joy of Impression as the man's alarmed cry quickly turns into a dragon's name.

From the Sands, Extravagant Indulgences Eggs wants for nothing, which might be why its been taking its own sweet time getting that wiggle on. But even as wonderful as it has been to be an egg, that time is shortly going to be up. A wiggle here. Another one there. Something inside thinks itd be much better to to be outside than in and its doing its best to make that happen!

From the Sands, Edlsesa giggles at the blue's greeting to the world too. "Well, I guess even dragons have over friendly greetings sometimes." She watches as eggs hatch and dragonets move, it's an experiencein and of itself, seeing life begin this way. She squeezes Daen's hand and turns back to the show.

Eala slaps Ko'an's side — relatively gently, at least for her — in a silent dismissal of his invitation to join the gambling pool. "I'd just take all your money," she adds, smug in her certainty before her gaze drifts back out toward the hatching eggs. There's a hint of disappointment as that green goes to a male candidate, but ah, what can you do? Still, there's another one out there, and she might fare better. "I was just hoping to spot a few who might be good for us when they're a bit older, but so far, no one is jumping out at me."

From the Sands, Extravagant Indulgences Egg Once upon a Hatching dreary, amongst the chaos and confusion, suddenly there came a tapping, like a visitor gently rapping, rapping at the chamber door. The egg shakes once, twice and then once more. A crack appears, and to the fore, an ink stained blue takes his first tentative steps into the world. How will the critics receive him? But more importantly… now begins his search, to find which one of these candidates will be his one true audience.

From the Sands, Dreams No Mortal Ever Dared Dreamed Blue Dragonet
From the Sands, Abyssal and fathomless is he, of angular features and slim, limber form and build. Hauntingly elegant, he is no creature of ocean waters though his hide holds the very mimicry of storm tossed seas. Stygian at his core, darkness there and nothing more, where ink has imbued aged parchment. So deep is that near-black midnight hue, until it traces outwards in a medley of tenebrous, painted chaos. Shades of woad and murkier, steel toned blues, curl along curve of limb, neck and ridges and darken again over his narrow head and ridges and wicked sharp talons. Brackish waters collide and clash, chasing away inky darkness' hold, to faded adamantine over his shoulders and back, sweeping ever outwards over wings to pale further yet to shades of cadmium. On and on, until the very broad expanse of his sails are bleached to dusky hues. Nearest to the edges, midnight tracings are incised upon the fragile surface, jagged and blurred in their faded, forgotten lore.

From the Sands, "Oh no," Ziniel says so softly, "That blue's headed this way," well maybe not, but he could be. Where to hide? There's so much going on, and candidates are bonding left, right, and center. A mumbled congrats is given where needed.

From the Sands, That's a lot of dragons, but Vosji has time for the best and brightest, and that must include pretty greens and their long-haired lifemates, because as soon as she has the bronzepair settled, she's beckoning E'gus and his green off to the sides. "Szokanith," is a lot easier than Tuanhjaliteth, but they both have nice flow to them, "Was it? Food's over here, come along."

Kepi seems to be keeping mental count of colors and impressions, a smile to touch her lips once more at a blue's choice down below. Perhaps a friend of hers. Hearing conversation about bets, she glances over her shoulder towards two riders sitting behind her, gaze to linger on Ko'an and Eala for a moment before cries from below has her turning back to the show below with eggs wiggling and candidates being… knocked over? That might hurt a little later.

From the Sands, Ainslee lets her attention shift back to the baby dragon action, as she moves a little closer to Talya, closing up holes left by Impressees. "I hope someone's there to witness," she remarks, still on the de-hairing of Fergus. "Could make a good story. Hope he doesn't get so excited he runs over someone." That last of the blue hatchling. She absently shifts the waterskin from one hand to the other, then glances down, reminded. "Oh. Right." She reaches it out toward Xanthee, who is hopefully close enough for that.

From the Sands, Herald of the Neverending Tale Blue goes skidding up to a male candidate, who gets a hopeful expression on his face. Their eyes meet, but while the blue gives a happy croon - this isn't the one for him! He just wanted to say hi! Long tail whipping around behind him, he turns to trot down the line, peering up at this candidate and that. Is it one of these?

From the Sands, Daenerys is startled to find All the Hatchlings abounding at once, all spreading out to find their new lifemates. Which way are they going? "Look. Two blues. And a tiny little green…" He leans forward, extreme in his curiosity as to where they all — especially that green — is going.

From the Sands, Always Lands on Her Feet Green Dragonet arches her back and hisses at the remains of the shell around her. How dare those sharding shell shards sharding shard! But the ire quickly abates when she sees one of her green sisters find their lifemate. THEY have a person, but she doesnt! This cannot be allowed to stand! And off she darts, the hunt is on to find her match.

From the Sands, Edlsesa awwwwws. "She is tiny, how cute, you could almost put her in a baby basket." Sesa giggles and watches the two blues that wander about. Really, they are gorgeous, but how many times can one say that? "Do you think she'd fit in a hand basket?" Probably not, but that's a funny image, right?

From the Sands, Dreams No Mortal Ever Dared Dreamed Blue Dragonet lurches to his feet and begins to stroll towards the sea of Candidates. Hell glance forlornly towards one group but finds them unsatisfactory. What he seeks is much more than that…

From the Sands, E'gus somehow manages to stagger off the sands without falling over again. Surprisingly. He's kind of dazed right now, though. And probably partially suffering from heat-related delerium. But he's going to get Szokanith her food no matter what. Even if this means he's stuck in a place with no trees and may have to shave off his beloved beard.

From the Sands, Xanthee looks in the direction that Daen indicated as she spies the two blues and the green with a nod, "I wonder who they are going to pick. That dark blue came out of my favorite egg." she mentions. At Ainslee talking to her she spies the water skin, and smiles thankfully, "Oh my Faranth thank you!" She will have to drop Sesa's hand to grab it, but she bobs her head with thanks before taking a long swig, not realizing how parched she had been.

From the Sands, Zsaviranth croons to the dragonets on the sands and to encourage those who have not yet broken shell. Time to come out already! Diem reaches out to scritch the queen, all while keeping her eyes on the eggs. A glance is also shared with H'rik every now and again to see how the Weyrleader is holding up. "So many greens." A wry smile for that fact!

From the Sands, Talya gives a brief lingering look to the waterskin as it passes on, and sadly not back to her. "Hopefully we can be there to watch the shearing," she tells Ainslee with a smirk. It's hard to push it out now, as the eggs are starting to dwindle on the sands. But there are still dragons wandering, a wary gaze given to the hyper blue still. She breathes out again at the newest blue that hatched, giving a soft, "Loved that egg too" mumble that was more to her. Her eyes stay on him for a good long while.

From the Sands, H'rik grins over at Diem. The excitement of seeing the Impressions, plus the fond memories of when he and Wendryth met for the first time - a hatching is just the best mixture of feelings! "Yeah - good to see. Goodness knows we need them to balance out the Wings." Wendryth is more of a rumbly sort than a crooning sort, but he's offering his encouragement to all the hatchlings, too. So proud!

Mischievious grin broadens in his long roguish shadows as he gets slapped. "I don't doubt that, love." Ko'an leans to kiss the crown of her head lightly, his words intermingled in the amusement found in the huff of his breath. "You know who is taking after you in your brilliant quick hand in poker? That little lass is nothing but trouble." He has the semblance of a stern note, but naught but affection in his meaning. "It's a bit early, although Zodaiyath seems to have taken a bit of notice this time around of one or two for the time being. Curious, that."

From the Sands, Edlsesa eyes that water skin going around. "Send that this way next?" She requests, hand held out. It is definitely hot down here! "That was one of my favorites too, though, I sketched the whole clutch a few times." Sesa grins, she'd had a lot of fun drawing the eggs, and the dragons around.

From the Sands, Dreams No Mortal Ever Dared Dreamed Blue Dragonet begins to grow increasingly impatient and it shows in his body language, from the frantic edge to his steps and the way his wings and tail twitch. Where, oh where?

From the Sands, Ainslee might let her fingers linger on the waterskin as she passes it over, but that's neither here nor there. "Mmm," is all she manages for Talya with a kind of half smile. "We'll see, I guess." Still, her attention is more on the wandering dragonets, because maulings are not fun times.

From the Sands, Herald of the Neverending Tale Blue has explored so many candidates now, but he hasn't quite found the right one yet. They're all so good, but he''s looking for the one who's brilliant; the one that he's going to have so many adventures with! WAIT! He stops for a moment as a dark-haired woman catches his eye, and with a happy bugle he RUNS towards her at full speed, eager to meet his lifemate!

From the Sands, Herald of the Neverending Tale Blue Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Ainslee, and steps forward.

From the Sands, The dragonets are watched, and Ziniel schools herself not to flinch with the movement of the newly hatched. She's going to hide up in her silks for days she is.

From the Sands, A bronze smashes his way out of the What Happens at the Aftershow, Stays at the Aftershow Egg, giving a triumphant cry at his success! He doesn't waste any more time on spectacle - there's a young man over there that he needs to run towards, so that the pair can be united and led off, human half grinning broadly all the while.

From the Sands, The Flipping Out Egg hatches without fanfare, a quiet little green tottering to a tall girl and looking up happily at her with rainbow-hued eyes. The Gaelic May Day Egg isn't far behind, another green making her appearance. A noisier one, she sits in the remnants of her egg and creels until a dark-haired boy runs over to reassure her, and then leads her off towards food.

From the Sands, Xanthee is thinking now that it's a good thing she got that waterskin from Ainslee when she did because suddenly a blue dragonet has chosen her and she cheers briefly before handing the waterskin over to Sesa, well after she takes another long pull from it, "Here you go." She says with a smile as she looks towards Daenerys and smiles, "You doing ok there brother-mine?"

From the Sands, Tuanhjaliteth seems a bottomless pit, as the bronze demands more and more feeding from his still-bewildered (and more than a little frustrated) new rider. Ca'elian has at least regained the use of his limbs, although their primary function seems to be feeding the hungry creature before him. He misses the faces of his fellow weyrlings joining him, too focused on this unsettling change which seems not to be a heat-related mirage.

From the Sands, Ainslee tenses as the blue suddenly charges her way. This is why she's been keeping watch: the inevitable dragonet violence. She's starting to spring off to the side when her eyes meet his, and she slips a little in the sand as she tries to lurch back toward him. "Keryth?" She says, a little breathless and wincing - and are those tears dripping down her face? Hard to tell, what with the sweat. "Right - of course. Right. Just, maybe not so loud?" But she's smiling broadly, barely able to tear her gaze away to look for where she's going next.

"Are you letting her play poker?" Eala at least attempts to sound outraged, but the heat of anger is enitrely missing from her words. She sounds more amused than anything else, and the eyeroll follows shortly. "I'm not taking responsibility for what happens when she cleans out people she shouldn't. You'd better keep an eye on that." Like she'll really eschew any sort of responsibility when it comes to Ailsa. "Which ones?"

From the Sands, Edlsesa whews. That was a close one! Seeing an impression up front and center like that is an awesome experience and Edlsesa crows her happiness for her friends! "Whooo! Ainslee!" She shouts, pullign her hands from her siblings to clap. "Look at all of them go!" And then she's sipping water, if the skin gets passed! And it does! Thank Faranth! She takes a few large sips and offers to Daen. "Brother?"

From the Sands, Dreams No Mortal Ever Dared Dreamed Blue Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Edlsesa, and steps forward.
From the Sands, Dreams No Mortal Ever Dared Dreamed Blue Dragonet pauses to look forlornly towards the sea of Candidates. Will he find the one he seeks or be left to wander evermore and onwards to oblivion? Ahh, now theres a dreary thought… but today all are spared as he at last spies a glimpse of the one who is his. Without question and nary a pause, he lopes towards his intended and comes to a halt, head dipping to touch his muzzle to the young womans chest. You. You are his!

From the Sands, Daenerys is defnitely not okay — he's all sweaty. And nervous. And omg thirsty. "I'll live." He grins at Xanthee bravely, eyeing the waterskin longingly. What he wouldn't do for a good bath right now, if only to cool his skin, if not his nerves. His gaze shifts, then, to that small and ferocious green, wondering where she's got to. "Wonder what the tiny one's up to?" He puts to his sisters, musingly. "I swear, these dragonets are far different to what I was expecting." Oh, good, the waterskin! He takes a healthy gulp when it's passed to him with a smile of thanks. "And Ainslee got one, too!"

From the Sands, Always Lands on Her Feet Green Dragonet strides indifferently by that cluster of girls. They’re of absolutely no interest for her. She lets out a pitiful little creel deep from the heart of her tiny chest. She’s begging for her lifemate to make an appearance. Isn’t it the most beautiful sound you ever heard? No? Thats not working? Guess she’ll have to continue taking this search into her own talons again.

From the Sands, Talya totally flinches when that blue comes running over. WHY are they all running in /their/ direction/. Not that she really backs away (yet) but there is defintiely a fear of getting mauled and getting ready to skip out of the way if that was the case of the dragon. "Watch ou—" her warning words cut off for Ainslee. Because he stops. At her companion. "Well," she says to Ainslee and her new lifemate. She does step away now, giving them their space. She doesn't smile anymore, and instead casts an anxious glance at the greens that hatch and those remaining.

From the Sands, The Feast from Famine Egg crackes all over, and a moment later falls apart. In the remnants of white, brown, and black shell sits a green hatchling, whose piteous cries ring out across the sands. As she makes her way towards the candidates she catches a claw on one drooping wing, and now her cries are pained. She manages to make it to a younger candidate, who helps her over to where a weyrlingmaster can check her over.

From the Sands, And there's another one Impressed, "Congratulations, Sesa," she says as she inches away from the newly minted weyrling pair.

From the Sands, One minute the Tomfoolery in the Spring Egg is whole; the next it is not, and instead a pale green hatchling is stepping towards the mass of white robes she can just make out before her. An uncertain creel turns into happy crooning, and her newly-made Weyrling helps her off the sands.

From the Sands, Cue Vosji into the breach once more, allowing assistants to collect some, but heading toward Ainslee and her blue. "Come on, come, eat, there's more water over with the weyrlings too," she says with a smile. There's more smiles for the blueriders, apparently. "Ainslee, was it, yes? And Keryth."

From the Sands, It's a green that hatches from the Sing a Song of Admittance Egg, her urgent voice rising about the general noise of the sands and the stands. She's quick on her feet, even newly hatched, and knows where she's going: a blonde-haired lad who stammers out her name as she comes up at his feet, crying hungrily. A weyrlingmaster comes over, and the newest pair goes to join the rest for feeding time.

From the Sands, Edlsesa is glad the skin is gone when it is, because suddenly, her mind is infilitrated with ink, and a gentlemanly voice. "Edleveth…." She croons, tears springing to her eyes as she drops to her knees and hugs her blue Edleveth around the neck. "Aye, we are. We are indeed." And then, sending excited looks towards her siblings, she leads her new lifemate off the sands, wiping tears that near evaporate on their own from her cheeks.

From the Sands, Ainslee breaks back into reality when approached by Vosji, and nods, a little over eagerly, "Yes. Keryth." She follows, keeping a hand on the young blue the whole time.

From the Sands, Xanthee blinks widely as the dark blue is coming their way, holding her breath for a moment until she sees it nuzzle Sesa's chest and then she let's out a squeal of happiness as her hand squeezes hard down on Daenerys'. Emerald eyes brighten and sparkle with happy tears that well up there before they sweep over the rest of the Sands. Not too many eggs left now.

From the Sands, Daenerys is shocked to find one of his sisters just — gone in the blink of an eye, and squeezes Xanthee's hand all the tighter for it. "Wow. She got one!" He's so inordinately proud of her for this. "Look at her." He's not crying, XANTHEE's crying!

From the Sands, Always Lands on Her Feet Green Dragonet turns her jewel faceted eyes toward Daenerys, and steps forward.

From the Sands, The constant movement and tail flicking that had accompanied Always Lands on Her Feet Green Dragonet since she broke free from her shell suddenly stops as the huntress makes eyes on her prey. She hunkers down low, using those shards of shells and the forms of some of her other clutchmates as cover. Her hind quarters quiver once, twice and with the third she leaps towards the form of a particularly cat-like leatherworker, but theres no mauling of this one today! The moss colored green twines herself around the mans legs as she marks this particular candidate as hers!

From the Sands, How apt for the Worship the Green Goddess Egg to hatch a beautiful, petite green? She pauses to consider her options, not one to rush into a decision. A girl with flowing black hair is her choice, and the girl is visibly crying with joy as the pair follow a weyrlingmaster from the sands.

"She may have found my dice." It's not a full admittance, though he does appear smug and amused. Blue eyes watch his greenrider carefully, a heavy brow risen. The implication of them being his dice is clear enough for what that means. No straight and narrow dice be they. That, and he can't tell the little lass no. It's almost as bad as his sway to Eala herself. "And have your keen mind for.. bartering." The reamining details are slim, though he appears to recall the occassion with fondness. His hold 'round her draws into gentle stroking of her side with his silver ring'd fingers. The last question allows some of the reprieve to wane, the thoughts to filter back, "The bronze earlier on seemed to bid his attention for a moment. Odd, that." Unusual for him to care at all, that is. The last green Impression makes Ko'an pause, and then off-handedly, "Another male to a green."

From the Sands, Vosji's collection speed is improving, as she gets Ainslee and Keryth settled; it's not long after that she weaves her way around to gather up one more blue. "Edleveth, welcome to Igen," she tells the dragonet politely, "Your names are similar, hm? Or has he decided to change yours?" is for Edlsesa, as she ushers the pair toward food.

From the Sands, Xanthee is really crying now when the tiny green finds her brother with a leap. Happy sobs as she lifts her hands to cover her mouth, with is beaming smile. "Daen!" is all she can manage as she wipes at her eyes with the emotion welling up inside her. And then she is all alone on the Sands, her arms hugging her torso tightly as she continues to scan for any remaining eggs or hatchlings.

From the Sands, Daenerys was just standing there next to Xanthee one moment, and then — oh, and then! She came pouncing up to him, and all the world's forgotten for a long moment as he loses himself in that small green's twining around him. "Briamiorth…" He says, very, very softly, reaching out to stroke her small body gently before he begins to lead her toward the food. "Yes… I'll feed you. I.. I think it's this way…" He turns to smile at Xanthee, bemused and happy, before Briamiorth's insistent mental tugging snags his attention again.

From the Sands, The sands are littered with shards of shell, but there's one egg left to hatch. It's been waiting, and now, finally, the Winter's End Egg explodes. A creeling, pale blue bursts into the world, his noises continuing piteously as he scrambles towards the remaining candidates. A younger boy steps out of the group; two lives meet, and the blue's happy warbling mixes with the boy's elated cry of his bonded's name.

From the Sands, Wendryth's humming ceases; a triumphant bugle rends the air now, the bronze lifting himself up behind the scene of scattered shards of eggs. That, it would seem, is that! "Time for a well-deserved drinK?" H'rik says to Diem, and he'll even offer an arm to her, very much the gentleman. Wendy would be proud!

From the Sands, Talya's head moves with the green as she finally focuses on her lifemate and claims him. "Pretty boy found his own too," she says wistfully, because there's no one really by her left to chat with. Even the hot sands have been all but forgotten as her dark eyes turn back towards the sands and the few remaining impressions. With all the eggs hatched and what looks like all the dragons matched, she starts to step back.. and back. "I guess drinking is on the menu again." This time this is actually directed at Xanthee, her eyes looking at the other remaining candidates that still linger.

From the Sands, Once the last weyrling is escorted off the sands, Zsaviranth bugles to Igen's dragons in celebration. Diem accepts H'rik's arm and is eager to leave the sands — finally after all these sevendays! "Yes, please. Something that rhymes with 'whiskey.'" Now off they go to enjoy the hatching festivities!

With the last dragon Impressed, Kyriatis and her father gather their things together to depart, the girl chattering cheerfully about all the dragons, the candidates, and the Impressions. If her gaze lingers upon the remaining candidates, thoughtful and insecure, for a moment or two on their way out— well, it doesn't result in a lessening of the chatter, anyway.

From the Sands, Yes! Ziniel doesn't waste any time at all getting outside! One can almost hear the girl yelling, "Freedom!!!!" yeah, this is an experience she'll probably pass on in the future.

From the Sands, Xanthee realizes that there are no eggs left and she is left standing..again, and she feels a sharp pang of of disapointment deep in her chest. But then talya is adressing her and she snickers softly, "You go wild Talya, I have a certain Miner waiting for me." And then Xan feels kinda sorry for all of Malosim's neighbors in the Crafter's Complex.

Eala just sighs the sigh of someone all too familiar with this situation, giving herself over to the inevitable. "I guess it runs in the family." She probably has a few stories of Eanraig she could share, but she's trying not to encourage this too much. At least not quite so publicly. "Just don't let her get too cocky, we all know how that turns out." A pointed look is given to her weyrmate, before she leans into his touch with a soft sigh. "Seemed to be a bit like you. Except less…" She waves a hand up and down his figure. "You know." The words are punctuated by a smile as the hatching seems to draw to a close, even if there is a flash of disappointment for another green going to a young man. "At least a few went to women. And those blues." Blues are the least offensive males, after all. "We can make something out of that."

Kepi sighs softly as the last few dragonets pair off, leaving many a candidate behind on the sands without lifemates. One might think she feels sorry for them as she rises to her feet, ready to stream out of the galleries with others. Unlike many, she'll head off back to the bazaar before she gets into too much trouble for ditching her mother at the their family booth.

From the Sands, Talya bobs her head, eyes not even looking at Xanthee when the other girl answers. "Yeah, you both go crazy as well." The woman stops on her way out, lingering just a moment longer and giving the sands a glance over her shoulder. Empty shells and happily matched pairs. And then she continues, off the sands and away from the heat and the chaos. To go drown in something strong enough to make her blind, probably. Just as she promised.

"Devilishly handsome." He considers, "Roguishly irresistable? Aye." Ko'an answers to what he is, and oh- he could go on given any slack. With the hatching fallen to a close, the humming from the sands ebated and the robed- dragon-matched and dragonless- are dismissed from the sands, he gently unwinds his arm from Eala, though holds it out for her to take, and thusly to lead them both out as the crowd parts. "Shall we find them before your duty summons you? I might have an idea where she's off to, and perhaps the lad too if the games stayed entertaining enough. I'm certain they won't wish to miss the sweets." And he's no doubt Eala, too, might have interest in the same. And it won't be long before the blonde little lass is latched upon his back, and the four are headed for the feast that awaits them.

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