Who

Nasrin, Divale, Doji

What

Rajakhelath and Lukoith's clutch hatches, but it's not as joyous an occasion as one might hope. These three riders are left to sort out just what is the proper protocol.

Not all the eggs hatch.

When

It is afternoon of the fourth day of the eleventh month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr - Hatching Sands

OOC Date 24 Apr 2019 05:00

 

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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.


Applause competes against the even din of observational comments, last-minute bets, and socialization, as a well-known Weyrbrat Impresses to a brown he repeats as Ojabith. Nasrin watches the likeable new rider walk side-by-side his new life-mate to the side of the arena thick with weyrlingmasters and eighteen other Impressees. Rajakhelath lowers her front half in a delicious stretch, half-lidding her eyes, then exits the hatching sands in a slow sway. Her rider pulls her head that way, curious about that timing. There's still one egg on the sands and close to twenty candidates. "Uh, Divale?" Less than eloquently, the junior tries to read between the lines. A few footsteps bring her to Parhelion's acting Wingleader. "She isn't sharing much but I think there's something wrong with that last one." It's about a dragonlength away and doesn't look like there's so much as a hairline crack on it.

Swept up in the chaos that a Hatching can be and though she is no stranger to these proceedings, it takes a moment for Divale to register that something is amiss; or perhaps it's already been lurking, like a dark thought hovering beneath the surface. Were there signs? Perhaps, perhaps. Frowning, her gaze narrows as she studies the milling group of remaining Candidate-hopefuls before turning her focus to Nasrin. "Was that one the one earning comments on being an 'oddity'?" Comments she chose to dismiss when gossip fed back to her ears ? she recalls many 'odd' eggs from her lone experience and Lukoith's own egg was no exception. Grimacing, her posture straightens in the beginning of wary tension. "Perhaps you should have some dragon healer's brought. I'll take care of them…" A curt nod to that poor group of hopefuls and without a word, Divale begins to stalk forwards across the sands. Lukoith would have made his escape by now as well, but the brown lingers in the farthest edge of the sands.

Dragonhealers are certainly close enough although the few purple corded knots seem to be occupied in the mass of newly hatched dragons and their lifemates. All sorts of measures and once overs need to be taken as well as making sure any that stumbled over their own wings didn't do any true damage. Doji finishes coiling up her measuring rope now that the dainty little green in front of her's measures have all been jotted down when the brownrider blinks. She spins and her hand can be seen moving and doing a quick recount before she slips away from the crowd of weyrlings and weyrlingmasters and over towards Nasrin and Divale. She tries to keep her voice down, but worry has definitely set into her face as she looks over at the one remaining egg. "There's only nineteen…" To state the obvious there…

« Bear it between. » Rajakhelath's smoky alto flows as slow lava down a peak. Her comment isn't clearly addressed: to Lukoith or Nasrin? As Divale suggests a reasonable course of action, Nasrin nods decisively and makes strides over to the new-hatched dragonets and their emotional riders. "Congratulations, new defenders of Pern," she hails them and simultaneously meets Doji. Looking from weyrling pairs to the auburn-haired rider, "the twentieth is over there, see that olive-colored dome half-buried?" Accompanied by a quick point. "Raja isn't thinking it's viable."

Should Lukoith pick up some of that smoke and slowing lava from Rajakhelath, the brown only answers with the impregnable depths of the forests of his mind and the sound of low rolling growls not far from thunder. Even in the lessening din, his outward growl will be lost. Most folk are clearing from the galleries, while a few linger and no doubt are drawing the same assumptions ? or are waiting like vultures to spread the best of the best 'gossip', no matter how grim. While Nasrin is meeting with Doji to update her on the situation, Divale is shooing away the lingering Candidates with sharp words and darker looks. It's effective and those who don't catch on quick enough are escorted by a few assistant weyrlingmasters, after a few gestures and hand-signs. No need to go blurting out the news! At last, they are gone and only the egg remains, with Divale frowning, stone-faced as ever, at the olive-toned shell. "There's no sign the shell ever cracked," she states dryly and likely only when Nasrin and Doji finish their approach. "And it hasn't moved. Nothing."

Eventually one of the new weyrlings will put two and two and two and two… together until they realize they can't get to a full twenty, but tonight will not be that night. They're bound to a night of feeding and oiling and passing out in a pile from sheer exhaustion. Doji will take a few steps closer to that buried problem-child of an egg, but winces as Nasrin shares the queen's rather blunt opinion and the Divale adds her own piece as well. "That's… unusual." Indeed. it's been a while since Igen's sands didn't seem to have all the eggs hatching, but the flight itself was rather unusual too. "Rajakhelath is a young dragon too. Normally wouldn't even be a concern until a queen is nearing forty…" Gossips will have no luck from Doji's words since she is doing her best to keep to a whisper when she can.

Rajakhelath encroaches upon Lukoith's black forest domain, her lava flow crisping at its edges into a deceptively cool grey-black crust. Just try to walk on it. « You aren't bound to me or the sands any longer. » An inevitable cold shoulder now that the eggs are gone? « But you may still watch me hunt. » Throwing the brown a bone, Raja's lava field makes mirage lines out of the mindscape air and grows quiet. She's either feeding or up to no good, perhaps both. As the crowds disperse both in the galleries and on the sands themselves, Nasrin aligns some loose hair behind her ears and joins the duo around the egg in question. She reaches out to touch its shell. "It is warm but anything would be sunk in these sands." As to the prominence of dud eggs, Nasrin has very little practical experience to go by. "Protocol tells us we carry it between. Is that what you'd suggest, Doji?"

« Tempting offer, my dear. » Cold-shoulder ignored, Lukoith's forests remain steadfast by that encroaching lava, though dull firelight lend to create glimpses of corrupted shadows deep within. His voice is silver-tongued and gentlemanly, but beneath lurks something else. He does not leave, despite Rajakhelath reminding him he is no longer bound to her or this place; he lingers only because the thoughts of his rider are… intriguing. Divale's expression is deadpan and unreadable, though it's evident enough from her posture that she's uncomfortable and unsure. "I'd say fault lays not in Rajakhelath or Lukoith," Yes, she'll go as far as to lay blame on him too. "But nature itself." In reference to the sandstorm and the flight aligning in the worst of ways. She looks between Doji and Nasrin and her jaw sets all the more grim and tense for the 'protocol' mentioned. "If it's true…" she trails off. Was that her almost volunteering?

"It seems almost wrong to just cart it off so quickly. To not give it a full chance?" Doji reaches out to gingerly touch that pristine shell, not a fracture to be seen. And if she might have been expecting some trace of something like was so common in those eggs she touched during her own candidacy well, that's not to be found here. "I'll be honest. This isn't a protocol I've brushed up on much. But I believe we will go with the advice of the dam?" She glances between both her fellow riders as if they might have been able to find a better idea in those few seconds.

Nasrin gives up her squatting position to bring blood back to her knees once more. Now standing, the junior dictates all fact and observations thus far. "Candidates did mentioned during the touchings there was an egg that didn't project much of anything. Rajakhelath is ignoring it and though she has her ways, I do not think she'd just abandon it. And we can't see any cracks or signs it tried to hatch." On a hunch, Nasrin bends again to dig at the base of the egg, then pull it out until it's horizontally balanced on the sands. "I can't see any on this end either but please double check." Building upon Divale's opinion of nature, "sometimes the fowl in the menagerie have ones that don't always hatch. Maybe dragons are like waterfowl." « No such possibility. » A lava bubble pops from a certain someone.

"How long do you intend for us to sit by and wait?" Divale's words are blunt towards Doji but she'll exhale and add with less curtness. "Would there be a way for checking for life within? Like a pulse… anything? Even if so far the signs are damning." She is not one to hold out hope and likely has already set her mind to one path. Her gaze will settle on Nasrin next, as she digs at the base of the sands and her request has her shifting forwards to crouch, though she gives Doji more room should the brownrider approach as well. "I don't see anything." she mutters, pulling back some of the sand to confirm her observations. She scoffs a bit, eyes shifting to peer sidelong and up to Nasrin. "I do not think a comment like that would be well received… though I believe I understand what you meant."

Doji steps back as Nasrin starts her excavation, but holds out a hand to steady the egg once it is freed from the rest of the sands. She gnaws on her lip at Divale's brusque question as she didn't really have an answer for 'how long'. But the next she does. "Yes, well… maybe." A few seconds later a gold and bronze firelizard arrive bearing a small, metal cone that looks rather like a simplified horn. Doji is willing to look past any unintended offense about dragon-duck analogies as she puts the cone to the shell and her ear to the cone. "It's not unheard of for eggs to sometimes not hatch. Like you said before. There are… protocols."

That Divale and Doji didn't show insult by comparing dragons to ducks is fortunate, especially when Nas didn't quite intend the comparison to be complete. Nasrin puts a hand to the collar of her neck in further deliberations as Doji more intricately checks out the unhatched egg. "After Doji's final assessment, Divale would you do us the reluctant kindness of carrying it between? If not, I would do so." Nasrin lowers the hand from around her neck and steps to the side to give Doji more room. Spent eggshells snap underfoot. "We'll do our part to help keep the bloodlines strong."

Divale will rise from her crouching as Doji steps in with that cone-like instrument. Though she has training as a dragonhealer, it has been a long, long time since she actively studied or practiced beyond the occasional check-in with Parhelion's wounded. "Protocols we already outlined," she mutters as she moves to stand next to Nasrin. No gesture of comfort is offered, not even so much as a hand to the shoulder but there is a glance that seems to convey as much, if subtle. "Lukoith and I will do it. Once it is confirmed and… decided that this is the correct course of action." Meaning she's waiting on Doji's verdict, to be likewise agreed on by Nasrin. One word and it'll be done!

So like all the pressure. That's no big deal. Doji will be moving almost painstakingly slow as she circles around the egg, readjusting her listening-cone every so often. She doesn't really have much to answer as she keeps listening and circling. After the third pass, she sighs and straightens up. "I can't hear anything." Sure, she didn't have anything to do with the egg not hatching, and more than likely it was that windstorm, but she sure sounds defeated.
Subtle glances of comfort are sufficient. Licking her lips from the heat and turbulent state of emotions, the junior bows her head as Doji completes her evaluation. As the dragonhealer among them confirms the status, Nas infuses some empathy into her next line. "Thank you, I know that wasn't particularly easy." With clear purpose, Nasrin approaches the greenish-beige egg and prepares it for Divale and Lukoith. It's heavier than she originally thought.

It is not easy news to swallow when even up in the air but once confirmed? Divale is the luckiest of this unlikely trio and has a way to 'escape', albeit briefly. "Then it's decided," she murmurs low and darkly tense, as she turns to leave. "I'll go and prepare." Which leaves Doji and Nasrin alone for the time it takes her to leave the Sands and gather Lukoith's straps. Anyone who attempts to glean information from her on the way are given such a look that they do not press the brownrider further. Lukoith will eventually move to the entranceway, no doubt to meet with his rider on her return so he can be dutifully outfitted.

It's a small blessing that although Cremla may not have had to deal with this situation, she's experienced enough to be able to wing her own protocols. The path from the Hatching Sands and galleries have been cleared with everyone strongly encouraged to join the feast in the Caverns. Divale's path will most likely be unmolested by curious lookie-lous. Doji's job may have been done, but she doesn't quiet abandon Nasrin just yet. The dragonhealer turns that listening-cone over in her hands as she looks at that egg. "I'm sorry."

Nasrin looks down at the condition of her attire and though not her choice for a hatching day, the aged set of cocoa brown leathers will suffice. The time to change would be even greater delay than already transpired. As Divale and Lukoith follow through, Nasrin looks over to Doji and nods several times. She has a game face on, serious but completely willing to forge ahead. "It's for the best. The weyrlings should be our focus now, and whatever celebration we can salvage. Care to join me and we'll try and find K'mine?" Two sets of eyes are better than one…

In no time at all, Divale returns and with a shadow in tow; a very large and obvious one being that it's Lukoith looming above. "We'll see to it being done… as discreetly as possible." Not that word isn't spreading already in a slow trickle. Maybe if the feasting and celebration swings up, it'll delay the grim truth until later. Let the positive win out for the night! Taking a steadying breath, Divale will nod to both of them, as grim featured as ever. "I…" Words falter, fail and she can only give an exasperated click of her tongue followed by a tight spoken. "Enjoy the rest of the festivities." If they can, implied and unspoken. Divale is not one to give or seek comfort, it's to be expected she'd be brisk and a bit rough, but she'll wordlessly turn away again to mount up and settle in, while Lukoith will reach for the egg. Needless to say, the rest that follows needs no descriptive tale to outline it; only that the task is done.

Doji looks as if she might refuse the offer of festivities but on second thought, she nods. "It'd be noticed quicker if we were absent, I guess. And the parents of the weyrlings should remember this as a happy night." Even if others might be drinking for less celebratory reasons. There's no farewells or instructions for Divale. The wingleader probably has as good an idea as anyone else about what needs to be done, so she'll just give a nod and watch as Lukoith takes off with that sad burden before straightening up and turning towards Nasrin. "After you, weyrwoman?"

Nasrin looks at Divale over her shoulder, grateful for her assistance, and not at all slighted by the brusque display. Her background has steeled her against such minor insecurities. "It will be better than you think, trust me." Cool-headed Nasrin has a knack for being at least believable, her chosen smile reinforcement for facing the crowd. And if Divale should return and be willing, there will be a ready seat for her too.

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