S'renn clears his throat upon entering the barracks, and instead of closing the doorway, he leaves it open, and stuffs his pockets down within his hands. "All right Candidates!" He calls out, loud enough to wake the dead quite possibly, "Wake up, we need to have a talk about what to do on those sands, since the eggs are coming close to hatching.
L'tral ambles in from the wide green commons outside.
L'tral has arrived.
Duncan looks up. "-How- close to hatching are they, sir?"
Elfarran starts and sits up on her cot, rubbing at one eye, "Yes, sir."
Ilesyn's awake. Then again, the likelyhood that she who never sleeps would be asleep is minimal. Fully dressed, sitting upon the edge of her cot, she glances up to watch S'renn idly, through the corners of her eyes. "As you wish." No 'sir' - she's fully aware that the brownrider is younger than her, and not quite comfortable with it.
Valenti, curled up on her cot with a scrap of hide anc charcoal, winces at the volume and glances up.
L'tral decides to visit the barracks, though takes an unobtrusive position near the door, watching the goings on before making his presence really known.
S'renn begins to make his way around to the corners of the barracks, uncovering and glows in his path. "Soon enough, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, but they will be soon," He continues on, though at a much more... pleasant voice then before, "But you should be aware of what to do..." Jaded-silver eyes glance back at the bluerider, head nodding slightly off to him while making his way back towards the side of the doorway. "L'tral here is the Weyrlingmaster, for those of you who Impress, he will be the one that I will pass you off to, that should be the first thing to note."
Orilee sits up straight on her cot, her eyes widening into the size of great plates. Relief, surprisingly, is the first emotion. Softly she whispers to herself, 'Thank Faranth...I'm sick of all that firestone..." Eyes dart to S'renn.
Valenti's eyebrows rise, and she slowly sits up and swings round to listen. Brown eyes flicker to L'tral in an appraising look.
Elfarran nods slowly, first acknowledging the words said, and then to acknowledge the werlingmaster. Her eyes go back to the pacing brownrider, as she listens for anything else.
Ilesyn notes L'tral with a flicker of attention, her eyes glancing towards him, and then moving back to S'renn. Unimportant, evidently. Her hands cross within her lap, a moue of relief self-evident upon her face.
Teague's just here, listening quietly.
L'tral decides that having been introduced, its well enough that he says something, so heads over to his brother, claps him on the back and looks the candidates over. "Looks like an interesting group you have here, brother... how many do you think will survive?" He says in a semi-stern but somewhat mocking tone with a concerned smile on his face.
Orilee smiles over at L'tral, tempted to remark about who will and won't, but she keeps her mouth unmoving.
"Brother?" Val murmurs, glancing sideways toward Orilee. "You suppose his temper is anything like S'renn's?"
S'renn lets the corners of his lips curve up slightly in a wry grin, head tilted back at the bluerider for a moment, "Maybe.. at lest half." For a moment, his eyes become unfocused, and once he shakes it off, he calls out, "All right, guess its sooner then later! Candidates! Get dressed! Now!"
Orilee chuckles, shaking her head slightly. "I... Well... I only met him the day that his dragon Searched me.. but from what I can tell, they're very dif..." S'renn's yell interrupts her, and with the information recieved, she waves off her comment and silences, grabbing the robe folded upon her cot.
Ilesyn raises her eyebrows ever slowly, regarding S'renn without so much as a blink. "Such timing," is her mock praise, as she stands with precise slowness, retreating to the trunk beside her bed to retrieve her robe, and dress, without so much as another word. It takes her no time at all - although she moves with unconcerned langour.
Elfarran blinks, then, perhaps as if she wasn't terribly surprised, hops off of her cot, grabbing her robes, and pulls them on over her head. A soft warble is heard from her cot, as well as a quiet, sleepy woof, as she slips on her sandals, and goes over to help one of the younger candidates, who was having a spot of trouble.
Valenti starts to chuckle. "Now is that a good or a bad thing, Or-" A weak grin appears on her lips, and she slithers down to dig in her press. "Timing is everything. Hope you didn't have a whole lot else to say, sir!"
Duncan hops up and digs in his chest for his robe and slides it on, squeaking and honking and just generally making goofy noises as he struggles into the almost-too-tight robe.
L'tral claps his hands together as well with the same urgency. "That's right, you heard him correctly! Up and at 'em everyone! It will be any moment, and we'll not hesitate to leave anyone who isn't ready to go in here as long as it takes! You don't want to take the risk of missing anything, so get moving!" He shouts. "And if you are already ready, help others get ready!"
Felt more than heard, a deep thrumming begins to reverberate through the weyr. Echoed in practically every dragon throat, the sound swells to rattle teeth. The eggs are rocking!
Having had been almost fast asleep, Isadora groggily begins to pull on her robe and sandals, without a word amazingly.
Briana ambles in from the wide green commons outside.
Briana has arrived.
Orilee laughs, hurriedly slipping her bleached tuber-like robe over her head. She slips feet into the brown sandals beside her cot, and sits down to fix her hair up. For a moment she delays, not able to find the ribbon immediately, and once its found, her hair flies up into a runnertail in 30 seconds flat.
Briana comes in quickly, followed shortly by N'veen. She twitches at the nearest candidate, giving the lad a gently shove towards his press, even as she lifts her voice, "L'tral! I see you've already got them moving." Her tone is amused.
"We'll fill you in while you get yourselves dressed," S'renn comments, quite aware that the walls are now vibrating with the active humming. "We'll send you out there in groups, three at a time, so hurry up, if you miss your chance to go out, that's too bad."
Teague gets changed into his robe, a faint smirk on his lips as he looks around.
Ilesyn stands, silently, beside her cot, visibly refraining from assisting those around her - indeed, she remains composed, and altogether separate from the milling candidates around her.
The thrumming starts to become more urgent, increasing in volume and pitch. The sound echoes in the hatching cavern, spilling out to the rest of the weyr. They're coming! Hurry, Hurry!
Perhaps its the imminant hatching, but Elfarran doesn't seem quite as quiet as she has been. Whatever it is, she's gone from the first candidate she'd been helping, to another, then, as she finishes, she goes to her cot, half-whispers a firm 'stay' to the canine, then gets out of the way of the others.
Valenti glances anxiously in the direction of the Sands, trying to get her fingers to stop shaking as she slithers into her robe and pats it down. "Can't believe it's here already..." After sevendays upon sevendays of impatience. It's all perspective.
X'dros ambles in from the wide green commons outside.
X'dros has arrived.
Duncan straps his sandals on and bounces to his feet, running his fingers through his blond curls and looking, for someone who juggles fire and walks a tightrope without batting an eyelash, incredibly nervous.
Orilee stands as well, following suit of others in the barracks. The humming keeps her from speaking, but eyes strain with an anxiousness. Chanteur, quite aware of the situation, silently takes up his own affairs, and zips **between** ... and who knows where.
X'dros pokes his head inside the barracks, still tugging at sleeve and neck. Pale eyes swiftly take in the muted chaos of the scene, one hand lifting to catch Lute's attention.
Briana and N'veen move through the candidates, ending up at the front of the barracks. She raises her voice, "Candidates! Good luck! Remember, be wary of those claws! We've enjoyed having all of you here at the weyr, and wish you all the best!" Dark eyes flash towards the Weyrlingmaster and assistants in the chaos, a delighted laugh coming from her throat, before she and N'veen duck back out, obviously headed towards the sands.
S'renn offers the weyrleaders a light grin, followed by a nodding of his head, and pulls out a rolled up piece of parchment from his pocket, unrolls it, and glances out over at the chaos forming within the barracks. "Hurry up! The eggs won't wait for you!"
X'dros walks off northwestwards to the wide green commons outside.
X'dros has left.
Valenti finally gets her last sandal strap fastened, straightens up, and gulps, before heading over to the next cot to give a fellow Candidate a hand.
Ilesyn rolls her eyes ruefully at S'renn's hurrying statement, leaving go of the corner of her cot to attempt to dig her hands into pockets that aren't there, therefore letting them slide down the hastily constructed robe she wears. "Hurry up, then," she mutters, more to herself than anything.
L'tral continues clapping his hands after those who are lagging behind in getting ready. "You heard him! Missing a hatching means missing a possible lifemate, so don't dilly-dally!"
Orilee lets out a laugh as well, although this one more of nervousness than anything. She watches as one of the Candidates beside her cot slips buckling his sandals once... twice... and she bends down, doing it for him. A small smile is given up to him, as he gives one to her, and she grabs his hand and helps him stand, then moves back in front of her cot, waiting for the call to leave.
Teague folds his arms and waits, head tilted slightly downward, standing hip-shot near his cot.
S'renn leans himself up against the side of the entrance out to the sands, and begins to call of names from the parchment held from his hands. His voice is loud, but carries a good deal of excitement, "Duncan, Elfarran and Ilesyn! Proceed out to the sands."
You take the secret exit to the hatching sands.
Ilesyn steps forward onto the sands, once more attempting to dig her hands into non-existant pockets, bobbing a rapid, and somewhat unenviable, bow towards dam and sire. Visibly unconcerned, she steps away from the pair, joining the forming circle about the rocking eggs without hesitation, although her feet dance up and down to the tune of the heated sands.
Elfarran steps out onto the sands, and looks around to get her bearings. With a smile, she bows to Rievoth and Rugarth, before finding a place to stand in the forming semicircle.
Blushing Pinks Egg gives a little jump, and starts to work itself free from the sands that are piled around it. You didn't see that. Really. It stills, and then jumps again, rolling to one side.
Teague high-steps it a bit the moment his feet hit the sands. He pauses only for a brief second to bow to dam and sire, the walk-hops to join the growing semi-circle.
Th'rok mutters, as much for himself than anyone else, "A respectable clutch." Then, louder, "I hope no one gets hurt."
Valenti winces the second her feet touch the Sands- now how had she forgotten just how hot it is out here? Setting her face determinedly but walking lightly nonetheless, she offers a deep bow to the proud parents, and makes a quick retreat toward Orilee's side. Eyes widen at egg movement. "Ohhhhhhh my..."
Isadora hops down from the cold, and not to mention harder stone, makes a quick bow off towards the parents, and makes her way off towards the half-circle already forming.
Briana nods in agreement to Th'rok, eyes on the bouncing eggs. She leans to murmur something to N'veen, indicating a few eggs at the back of the clutch.
Orilee smiles, entering the vastness of the sand area, and bows to both sire and dam. Nervously she glances about for Val and Dora, and once they're seen, legs take her as fast as possible to both. "What now..." The egg is noted moving, and she nervously shuts her mouth.
Duncan meeps, and wobbles back and forth from foot to foot. "Hot sands," he squeaks. He joins up the curving line and absent-mindedly rocks back and forth to try to cool his feet, his eyes locked on the twitchy eggs.
S'renn makes his way out onto the sands, hands down in his pockets, and remains over towards the entrance, keeping his eyes on those Candidates, lips curled up in a light smile.
L'tral follows S'renn onto the sands and does the complimentary bows and all, taking his position appropriately and watching the goings on. Finding S'renn out there, he nudges his little bro with pride. "Don't worry, you've done a good job, brother. This is a good clutch and your efforts will pay off well."
The eggs are all rocking hard now, and it's a race to see which will break apart first; the Naive Peppermint Envy egg or the Fragile Sweetened Dream Egg. The Naive Peppermint Ency egg wins by a hair, the shall splitting abruptly open and dumping a dusky brown nearly on top of another egg near it that is rocking. The brown protests this motion - he wanted out, but not like that! - before picking himself up. He makes a mad dash for white robes, picking and choosing in an instant: Writag, now W'tag who yells out "Yortanth!"
Valenti spreads her hands in a helpless gesture. "Your guess is as good as mine, Ori. I guess we wait." A nervous snicker escapes her. "We oughta be good at that by n- Oops! So much for waiting!"
Elfarran glances over towards the new pair as she hears the name yelled out, before turning back to watch the eggs rocking. Her feet have now started the constant shift, in fact have been since she stopped walking to her place in the circle.
Blushing Pinks Egg suddenly gives a bounce. It rolls for a few feet, and then wobbles unsteadily. Then another *bounce*. This one actually lifts it off the sands at least a foot. Small fissures start to appear in the shell, but it's a tough nut to crack!
Ilesyn restrains her hands by her side, missing first Impressions without a word - her attention caught by an industrious study of the candidates around her. Usma, her 'pet' candidate, and then the others, each watched with diligent fascination. If only she had a hide to take notes on. Belatedly, she catches a glimpse of W'tag and Yortanth disappearing, and for a moment, she looks entirely relieved.
Th'rok smiles slightly, pleased at the first impression coming so quickly. Slightly, mind you. He's trying to keep his emotions in check, even as he glances toward a particular candidate down the line.
A flurry of shell and shards and hide and talons, this little green seems to burst from the Fragile Sweetened Dream egg with at least a dozen legs and wings and necks, barely a heartbeat after the Naive Peppermint Envy egg. She finally settles herself upright, with a mere pair of everything except head, she only needing one of those. A scampering, tumbling romp through the sands later and she's almost in the arms of a pale young Cibolan lass, Tikka, "Of course I'll take care of you Natrith!"
Orilee eyes the new Impression with awe, breathing slowly to keep the pounding heart within her from bursting from its chest. Immediately she grabs ahold of hands beside her, not caring who they belong to. Another Impression is made, and eyes sparkle. "Yea.. so much for waiting..."
Briana laughs as N'veen informs her smugly, "That's a full mark you owe me." Apparently, she'd put her mark on the other egg. "What was the name, N'veen? I didn't catch." She looks to Th'rok and Kata questioningly.
S'renn's face begins to form into a light blush while glancing back at his brother, still grinning, with a bit of pride now. "I just hope I haven't scared a few of them for life," he says, followed up by a light chuckle, "But thanks." Eyes dart up towards where the riders to the clutchparents are standing, and with an nudge of his head, points out the weyrsecond, "I think Th'rok either proud of his dragon, or glad this is all coming to a close. If I didn't know better, I'd say hes smiling."
Kata shakes her head to Briana, "I didnt catch it over Rievoth's crowing about how perfect her hatchings are."
A'mus walks over to the new green weyrling pair, motioning for the weyrlings to follow him, as he smiles down at the pair.
Th'rok shrugs distractedly at Briana. "No idea." He squints up at Rugarth. "Yortanth is the brown. He was rather loud, Rugarth says."
Ilesyn - oh frabjous day - catches Tikka's Impression, her eyes narrowing in upon the girl as the green approaches. Something is muttered, beneath her breath, so quietly that even those most close to her would miss it, as she shuffles her feet, glances sent back to Usma with increasing rapidity.
Extracting itself to roll down a little mound of sand, Puddle of Goo egg sits at the bottom of a hollow, just for a moment. A dark blue snout appears out of the goo of shards and egg fluid, then in a rush, the rest of the tiny hatchling. Urade, or Ur'de from healer hall squeals in delight, "Of course you're hungry, Ilnnath!", and the pair are bundled off to the corner of the sand reserved for weyrling pairs.
Duncan ducks flying sand as several of his fellow Candidates get picked for the newest Weyrling team. He grins foolishly as the head off to the barracks and looks out over the eggs briefly, then back to his fellow Candidates, winking to several of them and just grinning like the big goof that he is.
On the leftmost side of the Blushing Pinks Egg, cracks start to mar that spongy white surface. A flash of claw here, talon there, but always gone too quickly to tell the color of the hatchling inside. In the end, the egg breaks in half, and out tumbles a Charming Roguish Brown Dragonet, wings, legs, and tail all akimbo.
Charming Roguish Brown Dragonet
Rich hues of warm buttercream wrap this pale brown dragonet from muzzle to tailtip. Gently sloped fawn-colored eyeridges smooth into an almost aquiline muzzle, the blunt snout turned up ever so slightly at the end in a characteristically knavish air. Rugged patches of hazel accent his hide, dipping into the crevasse of his chest and outlining what will be powerful muscles with twisting, vague threads of darker umber probing deep into the sinews. The delinquent splotches of sun-baked leaves blow up the length of wingspars, melding into a mottled mahogany, highlighting the grasping tendrils below. Sinuous fibers of cinnamon descend from spars into the sails of each wing, shattering the paler sepia hues into splinters of polychromatic dye. The sharp barb of his tail is stained with dark ocher, echoing the gleaming hues of rapacious talons.
Fissured Ice Egg trembles, a movement so slight as to hardly be noticed. Did it move, or was that merely a heat shimmer?
L'tral nudges S'renn once more. "That's you and Onareth, at least that's what it looked like to me." He pauses a moment to call an exhuberant "Congratulations!" to the new lifemates, and watches the pair head off of the sands. Oh, but this is happening fast! "I'm sure you didn't, so don't worry too much." Of course, his services are needed, so he moves off to help some of the new pairs start their lives together iwth a first meal. "That's right, this way..."
Elfarran's attention shifts from eggs to hatchlings, to new pairs and back, her only other movement that shuffle of feet. Still, she can't help but smile, seeing all that is happening around her.
Th'rok notes that, "We could always use a few more browns. Especially with the loss of T'fal and Kwisenn last sevenday." Though, it'll be some time until these are old enough to fly in the wings.
Valenti's head turns back and forth like a firelizard watching a game of tetherball, as she tries to take in all the Hatchlings and Impressions and people and... and everything! "Fast... It's going so /fast/... They, um, don't seem the patient type."
Briana calls out congratulations left and right, and pokes N'veen in the ribs. "Oooh, he's a handsome devil, isn't he?" Th'rok gets a distracted nod.
Orilee smiles, letting go of a hand just to point out the newest pair, and then the newest brown. Except... feet begin to suddenly sear with pain, and eyes glance down to the hot sands. Feet are lifted, shuffled.. "Hot..." She absently remarks to herself, and then turns up to Val. "I know it!"
Th'rok's face is a look of grim pleasure. No accidents. No embarassments. Rugarth rumbles encouragingly to the latest brown from his higher vantage point.
Ilesyn, eyes ever moving, misses the arrival of the Charming Roguish Brown Dragonet, her former fellow healer, Ur'de, instead catching her attention. "Our shared Masters will not be so happy," she cites, to herself, a sly glance sent towards the galleries, and then, to her fellow candidates, excitable to her placid calm.
Charming Roguish Brown Dragonet snorts, and attempt to right himself, tripping over a wing. Woah! There's a lot more space out here than there was inside his egg. He gives a rusty bugle, and then gets limbs straightened out from wings. Now. Where does that tail go? Eyes wheeling red with hunger, he raises his head to survey his new world for the first time.
An intricate patterning of cracks mars the surface of the Flowing Time egg, sending up a spray of sand as the egg sinks a little lower before being knocked aside to reveal a turquoise hatchling, more interested in examining the sand in exquisite detail before looking at anything else. Rievoth gives the little blue a nudge towards the white robed candidates, sending him into the arms of Alelil from Nabol. A'lil laughs, cradling his new lifemate, "I'll carry you, Harenath."
Teague never pauses in picking his feet up off the sands, one right after the other in continuous succession. Someone, should've remembered sandals. Attention devided soley between the futile attempts to keep his feet relatively cool, and watching the eggs crack and dragonets hatch.
Fissured Ice Egg quivers again, the movement more definite this time, more sure of itself. Questing taps skitter over the egg's inside, concerted effort of wings and tail and legs and nose.
S'renn glances back at L'tral from the corner of his eyes, head shaking slowly, "Like Pern needs another Onareth and I." His head begins to shake slightly, though he stops himself, and begins to head off to the newest pair, lips raised in a smile. "Come this way A'lil, Harenath will probably be hungry," He mentions as he leads them off the sands, and into the little corner for the new weyrling pairs.
Valenti gives her nearest friends a half-grin, though her eyes never leave the tableau before her. "Oh, would you look at that. Making sure everybody knows they're here! I never realized a dragonet could be that loud."
Wriggling and twitching and rolling, oh my! The Crispy Klah egg seems to be warming up to the grand debut of its inhabitant. All at once, in a flurry of shards, a handsome royal blue hatchling sits, like a harper on his stage of shards. A laugh grabs his attention, and before long the attention loving blue has met his eternal love in a sweet girl from Weaver, Rhiko, "Of course you're wonderfully lovable Golith!"
A'mus returns from the section set aside for Weyrling pairs, striding across the Sands to join the other Assistant Weyrling Masters, standing easily on the Sands and watching the eggs and dragonets.
Isadora apparently didn't expect the sands to be so /hot/, though she does quickly discover the Candidate shuffle, lifting one foot off the ground, then replaces it with the other when it becomes too hot. In the process, her gaze turns downwards at her feet, ignoring the bounding dragonets right now.
"I've heard louder." A quietly wry comment from Elfarran, as she continues to watch, paying careful attention to the moving hatchlings, ready to shift to one side if its neccessary.
Charming Roguish Brown Dragonet gains shaky limbs and staggers off towards the white robes. A young lad from Crom, petrified, is passed over with a faint snort. So too is a girl from Cove. He's searching, though he's not entirely sure for what! Candidate after candidate is passed by as he snakes down the smei-circle.
Duncan's gaze follows the brown briefly, and keeps bouncing from eggs to Hatchling to Candidate to Hatchling to eggs, eyes not really focusing on anything. Snap crackle pop goes on in front of him, and still he's shifting from foot to foot, trying to get used to the heat through his sandals.
As winter melts into spring, so, too, does the Fissured Ice Egg begin to disintegrate. A spinner-web of cracks appears, tracing the pearlescent teardrops which covers the egg's surface. Suddenly, sprawled out on the hot sands under a shower of shards, is a Sagacious Determined Green Dragonet.
Sagacious Determined Green Dragonet
Tranquil mint slides easily over the whole of this young lady's hide, the color so even and smooth it seems almost too perfect. Closer study reveals petty variations - muted froth highlights the abrupt truncation of muzzle, while near-translucent jade dallies around the base of each neckridge and in the hollow behind each wing. Hooded eyes glitter cheerfully under malachite-shaded eyeridges, while huge wingsails, veined with subtle feathering of yet more jade, arch in graceful double curves on either side of powerful shoulders. Slubbed tail curls from chiseled haunches, the very tip of her spade dusted with iridescence. Serpentine grace and muscle meld into a form so well-proportioned that it isn't until you compare her to her clutchsisters that her true size is evident.
Orilee takes another nervous breath, smiling at the brown and blues, watching as two blues Impress. But eyes dart toward the brown, watching his reactions to the new world. Grinning, she looks over toward Elf. "Really?" And then hand lifts to point out the first green. "Look!"
Bits of shell start flying off the Delicious Crunchy Rice egg, a hazard if it wasn't over so quickly. It reveals a vine green hatchling, bounding and full of ready energy. She scampers off in one direction, tumbling on her wings and her feet and her tail, never slowing down from an all out run. She plows through a knot of candidates from Fort before making another lap of the group and settling on a slight, shy young lass with tight brown curls from Fort Hold, Chloe. She laughs, "You move so quickly Aywyth!"
You say "Another green." This one, at least, she catches the hatching of, although her interest is debatable, in truth. Using her fingers, she rumples through her own hair, the next green, too, caught - Impression watched with visible interest. "Interesting."
Valenti shakes her head a little with a wink. "Faranth help your ears then, Elf." Her grin strengthens at Orilee's enthusiasm, and she nods in a rather silly way. "I see her, I see her!"
Sagacious Determined Green Dragonet climbs to her feet, looking more than a little dazed. Fragments of shell cling to her body, plastered there by rapidly drying egg goo. Open mouth protests this rudeness, but no sound emerges. Instead the largish green shakes her head, rolling it on her neck and sending a few fragments flying. That job done she finally looks about blearily and makes her stumbling way toward the first group of Candidates.
Charming Roguish Brown Dragonet gives a loud, huffy bugle! Where is the one he wants! Head swings in agitation, looking back up the line of candidates rejected. He starts to move faster now, down the line, looking now at the girls. Maybe he was just looking at the wrong thing.
Elfarran 's eyes dart at the hatching of the two greens, seeing the impression of the later. A quick glance towards Valenti, Isadora and Orilee and she smiles, "You've met one." Back to watching, seemingly not even aware of her constant shuffling feet.
L'tral returns as well, just in time for there to be more new lifemates to guide off the sands. He calls back to his staff. "Looks like we'll have our hands pretty full this time 'round, especially if they all move this fast!" And with that, he's gone with another set of lifemates.
Th'rok mmms thoughtfully at something, watching the proceedings.
The Charming Roguish Brown Dragonet finally finds the one he is looking for. With a rusty bugle, he blurs into motion, faster than a dragonpoker card flipped through the air. He charges towards one white robed figure in particular, a petite figure with blonde hair and blue eyes. Better get out of the way, Isadora -- oh, wait! She's the one! The brown skids to a halt before the girl, sand flying up in a cloud, before he strokes his head against her leg.
Valenti catches movement in the corner of her eye and reaches a hand toward Orilee in warning. "Careful... that brown falls at that speed and somebody's... Oh ho, wait a moment, check that out! Dora!"
Orilee laughs at her own immaturity, giggling to Val. As if perhaps to lessen the nervousness, she puts on her own goofy smile. "Good!" Eyes glance over to the green. "Now we've gotta watch her..." She eyes Dora and bursts into smiles. "Oh my... /Dora/!"
The top seems to split open, right off the Drippy Caramel Goo egg letting the mottled tan and beige hatchling poke his head out. He stretches lazily, uncertain if he should move further now that his head is free. After some thought, he stretches out his limbs, shattering the remains of the egg. He meanders over to a small knot of candidates, even his starving belly not enticing this hatchling to move any faster than a slow mosey. He plunks down in front of his chosen, lounging as he chooses to spend his life with Neverid. N'rid nudges the brown, "Hurry up Kalith, aren't you hungry?"
Isadora blinks several times, watching Orilee, and replies in her gruff voice, "We have? W..." but her remark is cut short as the brown practically runs into her, and kneeling down, begins to embrace her newfound lifemate, smiling from ear to ear, and completely forgetting to act tough. "Of course I know you Gamrath! Sh-.. wow, you sound hungry," She begins to glance around, "But where do we feed you?.."
[Isadora Impresses Charming Roguish Brown Gamrath]
Briana does catch the name this time, tugging on N'veen's sleeve. "Did you see that? Isadora and - Gamrath, didn't she say? Interesting name! Congratulations you two!"
Sagacious Determined Green Dragonet follows more slowly in her Roguish clutchsib's footsteps, proceeding down the semi-circle as if on parade. She passes by the first few Candidates she encounters - a shrinking brunette girl from Cove is passed by with naught but a glance. Likewise a blustering blonde Weaver apprentice, then a middling-tall boy with sandy brown hair. She stops, frustration written in every minty line. Where? Where is the one for her? Increasing disappointment flares her wings and causes her to jump, nearly toppling over in surprise. Where did those come from?
Skittering Circles Egg moves slightly, throwing a small cloud of sand into the air and then back to settle on the ground once more.
Ilesyn's feet carefully tread the sand beneath, every so often subsiding into non-movement for a moment - which ends in a slight jump of heat. Ouch. Isadora's Impression is missed entirely, her gaze already focused upon N'rid and Kalith, intense and intent.
Skittering Circles Egg shakes a bit, then stands still, and then rolls a little to the side, then stands still, then shudders. The shuddering takes a bit longer to settle down.
Elfarran's eyes and head seem to be moving even more then her feet, as she watches the young dragons and fellow candidates find their lifemates. The slight smile seems to grow with each one, as she see so much to rejoice in.
No sedate, quiet cracks for *this* egg, no sir! No flaking away to reveal the dragonet inside, nothing so unassuming. The Skittering Circles Egg doesn't hatch so much as shatter, sending a rainbow of tiny egg shards into the air. Watching this spectacle, the Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Dragonet lets out a proud, off-key bugle, as if to say, 'I'm out!'
Valenti grins. "Now ain't that something! See how happy she looks! There's more, though, Ori." She nods toward the various Hatchlings making their way across the Sands. "Keep an eye out."
Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Dragonet
Tonnage. That one word alone could describe this darkly tinctured bronze. Bulky muscles seem to protrude from every available surface, awash in streaks of dark umber fire which creep stealthily back over his flanks. Molten shades of carnelian flame flicker up his massively broad torso into two antennae-like splinters, dividing and muting the whiskey hue of his hide. Heavily sloped ridges give the impression that the solely set faceted eyes are in fact bulging out of his solid, chunky head. Wingspars are thick, slubbed with viscous brandy and shot through with threads of the lighter glossy amber that shrouds his wings. The liquor drips in delicate runnels across the sails, which are the only delicate looking things about him. Even his talons and tail are blunt, though the tail seems oddly stunted when compared to the vast tract of his body.
S'renn had found himself back at his spot beside the little alcove, arms folded up over his chest, and eyes out upon the sands, yet as Isadora Impresses, he lets a light grin form upon his lips, and makes his way, directly over towards the new pair. He kneels down beside them for a moment, head nodding, "Hes a beauty, Dora. His name was Gamrath did you say? Well come on, We'll get some food for him," And with that, he begins to lead the pair off towards the corner.
Orilee laughs, letting her friend embrace the brown. Happy hops--or are they from the hotness of the sands-- And glittering eyes gaze up, eyeing bronze and green. "Look Val! Bronze!" The immature giggle bursts from her lips yet again.
Th'rok eyebrow rises at the sight of a bronze, and now he does look a bit snug. Rugarth gets a look, and a smirk. "All right, I admit it. You did call it."
A medium blue dragonet - medium in both hue and size - stands where a shivering and quivering Wrinkles Raisin egg stood just a few moments before. Suspiciously he heads away from the main group of Candidates, heading almost directly for a girl who is ignoring him... or is she? She's shooting him equally wary glances out of the corner of her eye, until... Impression! Riakka gently rubs around her blue's headknobs, saying, "I almost didnt dare hope, Guranth... but don't ever leave me alone for so long again!"
Th'rok is smug, too.
Duncan winces back a bit. "Alrightythen, you're out, yay for you!" He grins foolishly anyway. "Pretty though," he whispers to Teague. "Hope he doesn't live up to the big-n-dumb stereotype, hey?"
Ilesyn greets the bronze with little more than a tilt of her head, as if just acknowledging his presence, before musing back to watching candidates; it's a very important practice, more important, even, than watching the hatchlings themselves. Then, Riakka's Impression, to watch, although the moment itself is missed entirely.
Settled within the sweltering sands, somewhat hidden between its brothers and sisters, is this mottled ovoid, only slightly smaller then those around it. The hardening shell on this egg is the odd color of lightly tanned hide, streaked through with stripes of light green, giving the appearance that the egg was green in the first place, and had just been dipped into a vat of tan paint. It would seem that someone had forgotten to dip the egg the entire way into the paint by the way that the tan color suddenly stops, milting away into light green, and eventually into dark brown at the very top. Directly in the center of the ovoid is a plain, creamish blotch, shaped in such a way that it would look as though someone had come right up to the egg and had taken a bite from it.
Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Dragonet is here, assembled candidates, dragons and spectators! Yes, Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Dragonet is at your service, to right wrongs and ensure draconic justice is serv- Wait, what's this? The dragonet rumbles a deep Rumble of Heroic Confusion, and lifts a foreleg. Ah, a bit of egg shard is stuck there. He struggles valiantly, waving it around. Begone, Egg Fragment of Doom, begone!
Bitten Caramel Egg twitches lightly, one single motion that sends it slowly tilting to the left. Another twitch gets it righted again, but its occupant seems to have gotten the hang of things, and the egg begins wriggling with sharp, defined movements.
Valenti nods, gasping in a breath. "Faranth, he's gorgeous too!" She bites back a snicker. "Poor thing, beset by his own egg!"
Briana woahs, taking a step back to N'veen. "Lookit the size of him. I'd swear that's Zabrenevath size. He keeps growing like that, and we'll be hard pressed to find a large enough weyr for him.
Sagacious Determined Green Dragonet follows more slowly in her Roguish clutchsib's footsteps, proceeding down the semi-circle as if on parade. She passes by the first few Candidates she encounters - a shrinking brunette girl from Cove is passed by with naught but a glance. Likewise a blustering blonde Weaver apprentice, then a middling-tall boy with sandy brown hair. She stops, frustration written in every minty line. Where? Where is the one for her? Increasing disappointment flares her wings and causes her to jump, nearly toppling over in surprise. Where did those come from?
Sagacious Determined Green Dragonet spends a few moments circling around in an attempt to catch up to those alarming wings of hers. Will they just hold still? They don't, and neither does her tail. She finally stops, dazed, her head circling in sympathetic continuation until a withdrawn Candidate catches her eye. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed she heads toward a particular robe of white in all the confusion.
Rievoth rumbles smugly as a solidly sized bronze joins the sands.
Elfarran 's eyes are drawn to the bronze hatchling for a moment, before glancing at the little green still wandering and searching. Then, back at the eggs again.
Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Dragonet finally rids himself of his first Arch-foe, and he finds the next almost immediate after he begins his trek across the sands. Why are these legs so wobbly? He must try to persevere, for he is Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Dragonet and must overcome all that stands in his way. Well, except for that certain candidate.
Teague lifts an eyebrow, grinning a bit, as he watches the new-hatched's foot waving. "Well," he says quietly back to Duncan, "one can hope, anyway."
Slow to start but finally shattering into a spray of shards, a small deep brown hatchling sits on the remains of the Now and Later egg. The hatching roams off, almost the same colour as the sands he's walking on, determined and single minded in hunting down his lifemate. A few more steps and soon a young lad from Telgar Weyr, Trosh now T'sh, is on his knees, getting covered in black sand hugging his other half.
Orilee glances at the green, smiling, and then back over to Val. "She's pretty determined.. I wonder..." Eyes watch the direction of the green, completely lost from the giant of bronze.
Rugarth nearly looks disapproving as he watches the young bronze. Disapproving, yet supportive. Rumble. Come on, little one.
Her quarry spotted, the Sagacious Determined Green Dragonet bounds toward Elfarran with a squeaky bugle of glee. She rears up onto her haunches, perhaps to knock the girl over... and stops, her eyes locking with Elfarran's blue ones.
Valenti grins in agreement, an expression that only gets wider as her eyes follow the little green. "Determined is right. Elf's gonna have her hands full."
Bitten Caramel Egg starts to fracture, thin cracks barely visible in the shell's surface. Sands beneath it scatter as a whopping tap to one side sends it rolling across the hot sands.
Ilesyn's expression turns disappointed, as she misses Elfarran's Impression, although the distinct lack of longing glances might well indicate it isn't as straightforward as it might seem. Still, there's the briefest of smiles for the girl, before she's back to candidate watching, Usma clear within her gaze.
Orilee grins happily with joy, the girl who Impressed the one she'd been working with for the past sevendays, as punishment. "Elfarran!" Smiling wide and large, she watches in glee at Elf's Impression. "You're right Val, you certainly are..."
S'renn makes his way back out to the sands, just in time to eye Elfarran's Impression, causing the fading smile to pick back up again, but glances over towards his brother and the other weyrling staff, checking to see if any of them are making their way to the new weyrling.
Elfarran blinks slowly as she looks down to see the little green in front of her. She kneels down and puts an arm about her new lifemate, above the wings and smiles, "Of course, Jenibeth. Let's get you something to eat. Of course you're hungry." and with that, she gets back to her feet, looking towards the riders leading the new weyrlings from the sand.
[Elfarran Impresses Sagacious Determined Green Jenibeth]
Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Dragonet lets out a pseudo-bellow, a battle cry if you will, a RAAARH perhaps, though his voice is too high-pitched and young to do it Justice. One of these boys and girls is his lifemate, his Loyal Sidekick, his partner in the Never-Ending Battle for all that is Good and proper table manners. Yes, it may not be this blue-eyed Harper lad or that mop-headed son of brownriders, but the Denoument is close at hand -- except, /which/ hand? A Conundrum, indeed.
Duncan cal almost hear the Heroic Soundtrack following the bronze and just shakes his head. "Faranth preserve us from that," he mutters to Teague, eyes rolling skywards. "Although, he might grow out of the Must Overcome Everything phase..."
The inhabitant inside the Bitten Carmel Apple Egg is a lively one, as the egg bounces over the sands. Though other eggs might've shattered by now, this one's still solid--until one last great push from within reveals a shell-covered Irascible Stocky Brown Dragonet, who shakes shards away before eyeing the white-robed candidates.
Irascible Stocky Brown Dragonet
This little guy has a face only a mother could love. A nearly square cinnamon jaw is framed by heavily sloping eyeridges spattered with muddy loam, the eyes set close together and seeming almost small in his head. The kindest word for his snout would be 'blunt', the burnished fire of his hide ending in that strong set of jowls. The smooth, liquid lines of most dragonets just aren't in the cards for him - this brown is encased in muscle. His limbs are corded tree trunks; dusty, sturdy oak rising up into a torso that seems as roughly shaggy as a canine's hide. Twists of dark chestnut, mahogany and a splash of gray give his hide this furry illusion, working up the thick ropes of his muscles towards his neckridges and down along his back. Wingspars are a lighter hue, sepia tones echoing the wood of his limbs. Amber sap dribbled from the branches of the spars spatters wings that are almost a wintry tan in color, creating interesting whorls and patterns. His tail and talons are perhaps the darkest parts of him, dipped in umber so deep as to be nearly black.
With a final jerk and shake, the Creamy Swirls egg splits itself in two, revealing a tiny hazy brown, almost the colour of driftwood. He pulls himself from the remains of his egg and shakes off each limb in turn. That done, he strolls almost lazily towards the Candidates, heading directly for a short young man from the Woodcraft Hall. "Oh of course I accept you, Lawrenth!" Cre'vy yells, flinging his arms about his new lifemate's neck. "And I'll never let you go!"
Briana laughs, "Congratulations, Elfarran! - Shells, just lost another promising dragonhealer to the weyrlingmasters." She grins up at N'veen, and then oohs softly, "Hey, is that bronze about ready to decide?"
A'mus walks over to Elfarran and her new green lifemate, "Congratulations, Elfarrand and green Jenibeth. Let's get you out of the way over in this corner, and get Jenibeth some food." A'mus smiles at the new pair.
Valenti laughs, giving her friend a wink as she sweeps her gaze across the Sands once more. "Of course. I'm always right, Ori, haven't you figured that out yet?" Her tone indciates she's kidding, of course. A quick glance toward the boys to see who's nearest the bronzeling.
Elfarran smiles back and nods to A'mus, "Lead the way, sir." A tender smile to her young lifemate, then a grin towards Briana, "Not forever."
Irascible Stocky Brown Dragonet tosses his head, causing egg shards to slip from his neck and sides. He snorts loudly, whipping his neck around this new location, eyes whirling a deep, vibrant red. Placing his feet firmly on the sands, he pauses to glance at each leg before rising off his hindquarters with a loud, attention-grabbing bugle.
Ilesyn rolls her eyes as Usma lets out a tortured wail - shaking in fear and excitement, and, unsurprisingly, homesickness. "Faranth's balls," she mutters, resorting to creative - if unreasonable - curses as she attempts to gain more material for her oft-cited project.
Orilee giggles. "Oh yes, always right... It's a given isn't it Val?" She pauses, watching as Elf and her green, and then glancing back up to the bronze. "That bronze... he looks as if he's going to find someone. We can't miss this!" Smile.
Jenibeth nudges impatiently at Elfarran's arm. Food?
Duncan blinkblinks at Ilesyn. "Um, balls? Did Faranth juggle?"
An intricate patterning of cracks mars the surface of the Pastel Splash egg, sending up a spray of sand as the egg sinks a little lower before being knocked aside to reveal a turquoise hatchling, more interested in examining the sand in exquisite detail before looking at anything else. Rievoth gives the little blue a nudge towards the white robed candidates, sending him into the arms of Elelil from Nabol. E'lil laughs, cradling his new lifemate, "I'll carry you, Renath."
Valenti mhmmms, going up on tiptoe for a moment for a not-really-that-much-better viewpoint. Ilesyn's curse makes her overbalance for a second, and she lets out a laugh. "Gonna have to remember that one."
Teague chuckles, shaking his head. "Maybe, maybe not. Looks like he'll be a handful, though." is replied to Duncan.
Ilesyn resorts to staring at Duncan disdainfully. "Yes," she cites, blandly, tone full of sarcasm, "Of course she did."
Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Dragonet rumbles and creels in an internal debate as he paces the sands. His Greatest Challenge is also his Fondest Desire. How can he be both things at once? Indecision is a foe to be vanquished, but once he is, Decision will triumph and -- who is that? Oh, right, My Sire. From whom I get my heart and soul. The father of a hero, the... What is that shiny thing?
S'renn arches an eyebrow slightly at the new brown upon the sands, before letting out a light bout of laughter, head shaking, "Oh great. Onareth has competition for loudest bugle." Another pair Impresses, and the young brownrider begins to make his way off towards them, steps light upon the heated sands. "Maybe you should let him walk, E'lil," he says, grinning, before leading the pair off towards the cavern on the side of the sands.
Orilee chuckles, dipping her head left and right to find better views. "We should write it down..." Laughing, she gives Duncan an amused look. "Didn't you know that? Faranth was one of the best jugglers out there." Hand lifts to point him out. "Maybe even better than you." Grin.
Briana quickly steps behind N'veen, hiding the gold flickers on her gown just in case. She's trying very hard not to laugh, though there is an amused bugle from up in the ledges. Zabrenevath most likely.
Duncan grins at Ilesyn, catching the sarcasm and choosing to ignore it. "You sure? I don't think she could have, honestly. You may want to talk to the Harpers to check that story."
The Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Dragonet slews his massive head around towards a group of white robes. It almost seems as though he's investigated each and every one here -- even the girls! -- but he's not yet done. Lumbering forward, gathering speed, he suddenly takes a great leap forward towards one particularly short young man with blonde hand and blue eyes. He bounces into Duncan's chest hard enough to knock him over, replete with a squealing bugle of delight!
Valenti snickers. "Thanks for that mental image. Faranth juggling..." It's probably better than the first image evoked by the curse though. "Ori, check out the bronze. Two words- 'typical male'. Nuff said."
Irascible Stocky Brown Dragonet almost comically cocks his head, liking the sound of the noise he can make. Another massive bellow follows, and the brown snakes his head around at the white-robed pink things. What is /this/? He trots towards a cluster of them, head lowered, swishing his tail through the sands. His talons leave marks as he parades in front, tail flicking back and forth, nearly colliding with a few of the candidates.
Ilesyn makes to respond to Duncan - but his Impression, which she catches in full, ends that notion. Her mouth opens wide, she hesitates, and then she snorts. "Yeah, well, whatever."
Orilee laughs hard, watching the bronze Impress to Duncan. "Oh, Faranth..." Slips from her lips, and she smiles, looking up at Val. "Typical male, exactly!"
At the edge of the mound, the Aurene Sweettooth egg rocks violently, then cracks open, shards flying out from it in several directions. A green dragon emerges, her eyes ablaze as she looks left and right at her surroundings. The green bounds forward as she spots young Cellie among the ring of Candidates, but her progress is halted suddenly. Her young legs fail to move together and she falls at the Candidate's feet. After looking deep into the green's eyes, she exclaims, "I'm right here, Wiredeth! I'm here for you!"
Teague sidesteps swiftly, surprise chasing amusement across his features. "And down he goes." he mutters, trying not to laugh and also looking concerned. Whoops?
Freshly Made Egg hops suddenly and the sand around it shifts wildly. The first movement from this egg this whole time. And a rather sudden one at that, but it settles to motionless once again. It just sits there and looks boring some more.
Valenti giggles, probably the first time anybody has heard her do that since she was ten. "Hey! It's Dunc... D'can? D'ncan? Anyways, it's /him/!"
Irascible Stocky Brown Dragonet stops in front of a lad from Balen, then passes by, and another, and another. He huffs rudely, throwing his head in the air. Which one? Where is /his/? He continues his lumber, snorting at intervals and issuing his loud protests as none of them seem just right. But he will find his pink-and-white thing, oh yes he will.
Somehow, the stupid look on Duncan's -- now D'can's -- face gets even stupider. "Tidaeth. Let's get you off here so I can cool my feet off, and you can eat yourself silly, hey?"
[D'can (Duncan) Impresses Stout-Hearted Mighty Bronze Tidaeth]
Orilee nods. "I see, I see. /Him/!" Grinning, she's amused totally by Val's giggle, and shakes her head, nodding happily. "Look, the brown is finding someone too!" She watches in anticipation, quite amused already with D'can's Impression, and expecting another amusing one out of the brown's choice.
L'tral makes his way to Duncan quickly enough, wearing a goodly sized smile and looks the pari over. "Yes, hungry is usualy the first thing you hear, and its the first thing we take care of, if you two would come with me, we'll take care of it straight away." He motions in the direction of the small chamber set aside for such things and leads the new pair off into that direction.
Freshly Made Egg gives another great hop, just as suddenly as the last one. It's as if the dragonet inside were trying to not only escape, but sends it's egg rocketing out of the sandy enclosure. And thanks to it's dam, that is not the easist thing to do. Thanks mom!
It is now that the Redberries and Cream egg decides that its done with sitting as it begins to wobble back and forth on its axis. Web-like cracks form on one side, and with a snap, the blue dragonet within is let free, free to make a beeline for a young lad, Yemol from Cove Hold. Impression is quick as the blue begins to nudge at the lad's leg, Y'mol soon kneeling and calling "Zemolth! Zemolth! Yes, we will be togther always!" The pair is lead off the sands by one of the weyrling staff, and into new adventures.
Briana peeks from behind N'veen, and then bursts out laughing at Duncan - now D'can - and his bronze. "Congratulations Duncan! And Tidaeth!
A'mus moves over to Cellie and Wiredeth, "If you'll follow me over to this corner of the Sands, we'll get your lifemate something to eat."
Ilesyn kicks up some of the dark sand at her feet to releave the burning sensation upon their soles, chastising herself for the movement in sullen, almost inaudible tones. The Irascible Stocky Brown Dragonet is hazarded a glance, then the remaining eggs, and then, for far longer, the candidates themselves - she gazes at them with intent interest, which is enough to turn several away from her gaze.
Valenti glances round, muttering again, "So fast! Pity our kids don't come out so fast. Yeah, looks like you're right, Ori. As you always are," she grins.
Tidaeth nudges D'can. Off to the Adventure of Consumption.
Freshly Made Egg gives one more wrenching hop and displaces even more sand. Come on already! Let's get over this hump of sand. And yet with this hop the shell begins to crack and splinter, but not hatch...not yet.
Sand falls away from the base of the Freshly Made Egg, leaving it to roll end over end until it rests up against another egg. With one last push, the occupant inside finally manages to make its escape, and a Vibrant and Magnetic Grassy Green Dragonet is deposited rather unceremoniously onto the sands.
Orilee nods, pointing at Val. "You better believe it!" A mock stern look is thrown at her, and then her face breaks out into its usual smile. "Our kids... I agree. It would certainly be better if we all laid eggs." Crossing her arms, she throws about a serious look, although breaking behind is amusement.
Teague watches D'can and Tidaeth leave, murmuring fascetiously, "Now there goes a Triumphant Pair." He grins, though, clearly happy for the other lad, before turning his attention back to the rest of the Hatching.
Vibrant and Magnetic Grassy Green Dragonet
There are certain colors in the world that just glow without needing any help, like the lovely green of a grass colored hillside in spring. And that pure new-grass green is captured in the wavy hide of this green. While she is quite large for a green, her movements are deft and lithe, as any dragons should be. The sails of her wings are amazing and much too big at this point for her body. Their own, slightly darker, verdant color is edged by an almost olive green along the wingspars. The natural highlights across her body, which have nothing to do with secondary light, give the effect of her hide being comprised of many fine strands of cord or perhaps even hair. The curly design covers her whole body, wings included, and gives the illusion of constant movement. A trick of the eye with the highlights no doubt.
Another giggle from Val, and she wipes a hand across sweating forehead. "Yeah, but then we'd probably have to tend sand for months on end. Plus and minus to everything... Oh, now look at her. Isn't that the prettiest green you've ever seen?"
Sleek and sly, this little green almost manages to leave the Marshy, Mellow, Yellow egg intact as she slips out of it somehow, stepping and crushing the now empty shell beneath her talons as she strikes out in quest for a lifemate. She pauses to glance over the group, peering down her snout as best she can without falling over. Her quest is not to be long as she finds her perfect match in a quiet boy from Igen. S'lan is practically in tears as he hugs the green, "Laydeth, it's a perfect name!"
Irascible Stocky Brown Dragonet lifts his forelegs and brings them down with an impatient smack against the sands, sending a shower of sand onto the unprepared candidates nearby. A loud bugle fades to a simple tone, and while his head whips ot one side, one certain pink thing catches his whirling red eye.
Vibrant and Magnetic Grassy Green Dragonet stares out at the world from where she has been deposited on her back. Is this normal? The wings, splayed on either side of her, flutter as does her tail. Then with a mighty push she rolls and...Aha! So this is the right way up. She moves too quickly, though, even for a new hatchling. It isn't that she is unsteady on her feet, but her egg tumbling end over end left her dizzy! Woops! Muzzle dive into the sand. Ow.
A'mus returns from the corner of the sands, only to escort S'lan and Laydeth into the same corner.
Orilee nods in agreement with Val. "I see her, yes... she's got something with the light.." Squinting eyes, Lee attempts to focus on the green, but it seems nearly impossible. "But y'know.. I'm not sure tending sands is as bad as... Aww, she's gone and hurt herself." Cocking head to the side, she smiles, yet eyes squint again. "Not as bad as having to carry a single child around for months."
Ilesyn's eyes dart this way and that, her expression impassive. "It can't be very much longer, now," she decides, hesitating in her step, slightly disappointed. "But I still don't *know*."
Valenti winces a bit. "First taste- sand. She may not want to eat after all." A little nod is given Ilesyn, and she offers a hand in the girl's direction.
Irascible Stocky Brown Dragonet issues a great bellow, and his spinning eyes whirl faster. He increases his pace and, using great strides, catapults the great brown body toward a certain, beautiful, wonderful person - /his/ person. Stumbling to a halt at Valenti's feet, he butts his great head against her robe and emits a slow, creaky-sounding croon.
Th'rok shakes his head at Rugarth. "No, I do not know him."
The Irascible Stocky Brown Dragonet has finally gotten over his huff enough to make his choice. And choose he does, wings tangling and tripping him up, sending him sprawling at Valenti's feet. Red of hatching hunger shades to heart's own blue in his eyes, as he looks up to the face of his lifemate.
Studious Ostracized Egg twitches nervously a moment and then ceases movement. Ought not to rush things, after all.
Vibrant and Magnetic Grassy Green Dragonet screws up her backside and instead of lifting her head directly out of the sands, wiggles her butt and backs out. Can't go flinging sand around now, no matter how much fun that could be. With a small chuff, clearing her nose-slits, she begins to totter along. No longer dizzy, thankfully, she starts her inspection. Let's see...nope nope...no? She pauses before one candidates and watches them raptly, leaning in frightfully close. But then gives an indignant cry and leaps back when they lift a hand towards her. How dare they! And she's off again, tail held slightly aloft in her indignation.
The cracks and holes on the Sour Patch egg evolve into a noisy green hatchling, squalling on her egg shards. When she realizes this isn't doing much good, she gets up, shakes herself off and strides off to find someone useful on the sands. She passes over a good many people before coming to stand in front of a quiet young boy named Zadric. The green creels again, Z'ric murmuring "Ulanyth...". The two are now inseparable as they're led off the Sands.
Valenti cringes at the bellow, glancing around to make sure it wasn't one of the parent dragons getting upset... and goes rigid, her jaw dropping. "Ver... Verineth? Oh of course! It's food you want! It's here... um, somewhere..." That's one flustered gal.
[Valenti Impresses Irascible Stocky Brown Verineth]
Ilesyn regards Valenti's hand hesitantly, but decisions themselves are cut by the Brown's Impression to her. "Well, there goes that." Another Impression, however, is caught by her eyes, and by appearences, she's quite happy at the sight, if rueful to the expression.
Orilee springs backward, avoiding a rolling brown. "Val! Oh.. Val..." Her eyes begin to tear for the first time. "Congratulations Val..." She watches, overwhelmed with happiness for her friend. Looking up and down, from brown to green, Lee shakes her head. "This is just too much!"
N'veen calls out this time, "Valenti and Verineth! Congratulations you two!" He turns to Briana and murmurs, "Kinda rolls off the tongue, doesn't it."
L'tral returns to the sands to see things well in hand, with all the new pairs being led about, the staff running to and fro. Good. He takes a moment to marvel at a few that are being led past him as he makes his way back out.
Studious Ostracized Egg grinds itself into the sand mound a little, as if it doesn't want to leave just yet. It's shaking a little, nervously trying to avoid the inevitable.
Teague lifts a brow slightly as he catches sight of the green. "Well well, aren't we persnickety?" he comments, to himself more than anyone. Shortly thereafter, his attention is drifting off in another direction, gaze scanning another area of the Sands.
The Green Bubbles egg has been rocking back and forth for some time, and now, with a convulsive heave, rolls right over. With a loud crack, the top comes off, and four little green feet poke out, waving pathetically in the air. There is a scramble and a flurry of damp green hide and wings, and a small dragonet is heading across the sands like a toddler that has sighted a cookie. She almost stumbles into one young woman, before the pair lock gazes and Jadda cries out "Oh Cearth! Be careful!"
S'renn slips out from the corner cavern after greeting another pair to their new lives, and now starts to make a slow circle about the outer wall of the grounds, watching, until spotting Valenti's Impression, and with a warming smile, heads off to the pair in quick gait. "Looking for some food for Verineth?" He asks in a cheerful voice, coming up beside them, "Follow me, I'll show you where you can fill his stomach." And with that, begins to head off towards the cavern he just left, glancing back behind him to make sure that the pair are following every minute or so.
Vibrant and Magnetic Grassy Green Dragonet trots forward another few steps and pauses to stare at a boy with great intensity. It almost seems possible that she was choosing, but again she gives a cry at a small movement forward and leaps back. This time her tail almost hitting the Studious Ostracized Egg. Hey? What's this at her back? She whirls around to stare at the egg in great offence and gives a sharp trumpet. The first sound she has made and it reverberates quite well.
*CRACK!* A thunderous noise comes from the Studious Ostracized Egg, but no cracks are visible over its surface. As the small creature within tries to dig free, however, the split along the bottom of the egg is revealed. At last, the egg gives way, and the sand-covered Pragmatic Prodigy Bronze Dragonet comes into view.
Pragmatic Prodigy Bronze
Silver, golden, and amber ores melt down and mix in a swirl of metallic bits and pieces, forming an alloy coating the surface of this dull bronze dragonet. Thick iron deposits give his flanks a solid foundation, a cold, yet forgiving grayish hue that blends reluctantly with more rosy patches as it spreads across the surface of this minecrafter's masterwork. The reds and violets that mark the true nature of his hide rise higher, flecks of silver catching rare bits of light on the underside of the broad steel beams supporting his wingsails -- stars hidden in shadow until bathed by light in moments fleeting. Amber tones dissolve into the rest as they encircle his throat and neckridges, a dance of oranges, reds and silver that carries down from headknob to tail, and is echoed below on the talons that anchor this structure, at least occasionally.
Orilee smiles, pointing out on the sands, to anyone willing to watch her. "Another bronze!" But Val is gone, and so is Elf and Dora. Well, perhaps those around her will heed her pointing. "And what's the green doing?"
L'tral finds his wat to Z'ric as he makes his way through the chaos. "That's wonderful, you two! Come with me and you can begin your new lives together. This way!" A smile and a few motions as he waits for the pair to decide to move, and then they're off to find food.
Pragmatic Prodigy Bronze takes a few tentative steps, ignoring the green entirely. Each step is carefully measured, and after only three, the bronze hatchling halts. Twisting around, the hatchling studies the path he has taken. He creels! But hunger can wait -- he must estimate the number
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 01:52 AM