All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright © Anne McCaffrey 1967,2000, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited. For more information, visit the Worlds of Anne McCaffrey.
24-03-01: Arvardos
Jisa promptly plops back down on her eggs, and hisses. Hanneke skips, nearly at a run, curls bouncing about her...
Jisa promptly plops back down on her eggs, and hisses.
Hanneke skips, nearly at a run, curls bouncing about her shoulders in tidy disarray--just to be obtuse--as she makes her way along the river bank with a Journeywoman companion. "Oh, this is lovely! I'm -so- glad you brought me, Journeywoman Deilna. How wonderful!" The girl, whose appearance hints at an age far older than her audible comments suggest, peeks across towards the water, nearly bouncing in delight.
Carise steps light onto the sandy bank, shoulder wrapped up with a cloth, coat secured tightly to her body, and she makes sure that there is a spot for Loeje to sit, and making sure not to make any quick movements, slips gracefully to the ground, pulling her legs up under her as she picks at her lunch.
Ambermoore is sitting on the bank of the river ignoring everything as she has her pole, and a river... and is doing the most logical thing. Fishing. She's had some luck for one fish is sitting beside her in a small net. Not overly big, but it'll do for now. She blinks... people? To scare away the fish? Drat.
Z'ryel walks down along the riverbank and frowns. "Oh, there's folks here." He looks a bit baffled and glances around. "I just came to visit one of my old haunts." He explains to some of the people there after sharing a brief smile.
Dalaena walks into the sand bank, her strides kicking up sand occasionally as the grains shift underneath her soft soled shoes. A basket of something is carried in the crook of her arm, as two fire-lizards, a brown and blue float about her head, a brown and green resting on her blue, cloak covered shoulders. The fire-lizard is spied, and a respectful bow is given toward the hissing queen, a respectful distance kept as the woman quietly eyes the now visible eggs.
There's folks here, and there's an incresingly agitated firelizard here, too. Jisa's not known for being quiet when she has something to complain about, nope nope.
Hanneke's Journeywoman stiffles what might have been a sigh, gazing folornly at the river as she draws a package from her pouch, handing it to the young apprentice. "Oh, dinner!" states Hanneke obviously, drawing out the cold wherry sandwhich, meat sticking out on either end. "Not very lady-like, though." Disparaging at her dinner, the apprentice casts a glance about, eyes alighting upon the eggs. "Oh! There's eggs, and she doesn't look happy."
Remedial Egg bumps Jisa's rear from beneath and the gold swishes quickly airborne.
Z'ryel rakes a few fingers over his head and through his hair. He peers at Dalaena. "Haven't I seen you before?" He wonders aloud of the woman. Then he glances at the firelizard and the eggs, giving them little note. "Ah, looks like some queen put her eggs here. Guess we shouldn't get too close."
Seasonal Egg tilts lazily, basking.
Carise looks up from her rather preoccupied roaming, brushing the sand off her leg as icy eyes focus on the queen... and then her eggs. Sliding backwards in the sand, away from the gold and the other people, she leaves a hollow behind, one that is quickly occupied by her brown as their faceted eyes whirl faster with tints of green as they examine the eggs as well. And the guardian with them.
Ambermoore glances over her shoulder and hunches over her pole, people /and/ grouchy firelizards! Then at Z'ryel's comment... a /hatching/? Even more noise! So much for a nice fish dinner.
K'rill walks back along the river towards the Inn.
More noise, more noise, and Jisa has started to contribute something other than hissing: a hum, of sorts, rather high-pitched for that usually low thrumming sound.
K'rill follows the river up from the south.
Dalaena chuckles softly to herself as the queen takes a startled flight, the cook settling into the sand carefully, trying not to slip too close to the gold protected eggs. Cieryn and Taeryl slips down into the sands beside the human-pet, and start to thrum, the blue Cieryn a tenor, and the brown Taeryl a low baritone.
Primordial Egg stirs the soup of sand.
Bettse paces along the bank innocently, bereft of companionship. Her cloak's edges tickle her nose, though, and her steps are stealthy on the turf. The thrums draw her, and she approaches, still at that shuffle.
Z'ryel never mentioned a Hatching. He just said there were eggs. He walks down toward the river and looks in, smiling wistfully. "How is that fishing going?" he says, typical male absorbed in the aspects of fishing it seems. He shoves his hands into his trouser pockets. "I should come back here more often. There's some good fishing to be had here you know. My family lives not too far from this river, though a bit further that way." He gestures, "And we used to spend mornings just fishing for hours from before dawn even hit."
Hanneke wastes no time in abandoning her companion, to said companion's delight, to crouch nearby enough to the eggs to get a proper glance, especially now that they are rocking. "Oh, a delightful end to a delightful excursion!" announces she, flowery in her romantic nature. Firelizards perched about her shoulders thrum with their own intentions towards the clutch, as she, glancing between eggs and dinner, devoids bread of meat. "Hah!"
Primordial Egg shatters into a thousand fragments, leaving its occupant out in the open.
Mocked Bark-Brown Hatchling
He is large and stately built, this firelizard, rooted in a tree's tradition and almost as stubborn. Bark's brown makes its squiggly mark on his hide; though he's a bit on the pompous side, those near-black jags keep him from being a total prig. They delve decorously into the pockets of his neckridges and barely trace his broad wings, but wriggle raucously down his muzzle and look nothing so much like a child's drawing across the flat spread of his belly.
K'rill trudges in from a bit of a vist to the Inn, stretching out his arms above his head. His rear was getting a little tired with all the sitting it was doing inside there. And apparently his 'breath of fresh air' has led him t'wards a bit of a grouping. Body shifts to the side as narrowed eyes peer beyond the overly-long fringe of his bangs. Bare fingers run rough-shod though this hair, only giving his sight but a moment of clarity. And that fleeting breath in time is all he needs, before the wry grin sets his features. "Hatchlings..."
Hatchlings, indeed. With that bullheaded brown's appearance, the eggs have started to take on a life of their own, not just the wriggle here and there. Several eggs pop to reveal a pair of greens, a blue and a bronze to accompany the brown firstborn.
Z'ryel hears the sound of splintering egg shell and turns his head to observe the firelizard hatch. He pauses as he watches for a few moments then steps forward, hand going to his belt pouch. "By Faranth's tail, those eggs are hatching." He whispers. "Best have some food ready, rather have a firelizard than have it go wild, after all, and I can always give some to those folks." He glances toward a few others gathered near.
Ambermoore snorts at the hatchlings, all of them, the brown catches her eye, but is dismissed with a shrug as are the greens, the blue and the brown...t hough the blue gets half of a lingering glance, and a chuckle before she goes back to her river and her fishing... maybe the fish won't notice?
Carise pulls her legs up to her body, rearranging herself to rest her chin on her knees. Watching the eggs, she pokes at her sandwich, tearing a few pieces of the meat off and popping them in her mouth, even as Ashwood straightens himself up at the emergence of the others, ready to defend his Rise if the need should arise.
Taeryl gives a deep welcoming thrum as the first egg cracks, Cieryn joining in with the light tenor. Dalaena watches with calm blue eyes, used to this sort of thing. The bronze hatchling bronzes an "Oooh," from the cook, who brings out one of the items in her basket -- A live spiderclaw. Click, click. She offers it forward, the silvery aquid wriggling unhappily. No, I don't /want/ to be food!
Mocked Bark-Brown Hatchling flicks his tail and sends the bits of his shell flying with just the merest trace of goo trailing after. He sniffs, sniffs again, squints, squares his shoulders, sets his jaw, and... lunges.
Hanneke gives the brown a long glance, her prior brown-shaded attachment humming louder--like must stick together with like. Eyes fall further towards the greens and bronzes, lighting up as they watch upon them--"Oh, what lovely shades!" Oh, what horrid exasperating nature.
Seasonal Egg shatters into a thousand fragments, leaving its occupant out in the open.
Tropical Ocean Blue Hatchling
With the barest touch of tropical green brushing his wingsails, this blue firelizard is all warm ocean and warmer sunshine. Luxury laps at the limned hollow of his throat, skims the ever-arching curve of his spine, and ever so slightly plumps the sleek line of his belly. Despite the laziness that lingers in the errant switch of his tail and the omnipresent half-lid of his eyes, his temperament is as sunny as his bright hide: a companion's delight.
Z'ryel tugs at his belt pouch where he's stored a small animal he took down earlier. The dead animal carcass is small enough to be shoved into a pouch and has already been skinned, wrapped in a loose hide. He unwraps it and cuts a few strips of raw meat from it's flesh. Crouching not far from the others and eggs his sticky fingers hold out the sliver of meat solemnly. A smile spreads his lips as he watches the antics going on.
Dalaena watches the brown lunge, and receives a pinch for her distraction. "Ow!" she cries out, dropping the spiderclaw, who scurries for the sea, and, unfourtunately, for the bronze hatchling as well. Cieryn gives a fire-lizard laugh and goes back to his song, whilst Dalaena brushes back her black hair and goes for another spiderclaw, just as another egg spills out a blue.
Tropical Ocean Blue Hatchling takes a bit more time climbing at his ease out of the splinters he sowed of his shell. Pity 'bout that, it was rather pretty. He nudges at the shards with his muzzle as his wings start to unfurl and st-tr-et-ch.
Ambermoore watches as the spiderclaw scuttles by, and smacks it as it reaches a pincer for her lone fish. "No ye don'! I'm nae about ti let ye steal my dinner!" She growls at the crustation and tosses a deep red lock out from in front of her face... where it promptly returns.
Carise tilts her head, simply watching. Because really, there isn't much else to do, besides try and stay away from all the people. The scary people. The people and the firelizards. Smiling slightly, she glances down at her own tiny protector as she pulls tiny pieces off her sandwich roll to pop them in her mouth.
K'rill is highly amused and is showing it. And, you know what, anything is better than sitting around in a pub, trying to get warm, and discussing the mundanes of the weather and work and even that thread over last year's crops. That one was a real heated discussion. With a snort and a quirk, blue-green irised eyes slide over to the hatchlings and the eggs that harbour them. Meatless and thoroughly amazed, rider remains upon the fringes of the throng, more than happy to observe and offer up suggestion. "Whippy is best. Whip that meat just the right way and it'll just call those little one's to ya. Just like baiting a bordo, gotta tempt them, you do."
Mocked Bark-Brown Hatchling scrabbles along the sand in his lunge that is a bit less dignified than he would have preferred it -- but he has a handy excuse of hatchling clumsiness. Of *course* it won't happen when he's older. (Right.) Skinned meat meets his muzzle, however, and hunger overrides concerns of appearance.
Dalaena smiles at the blue, her eye still on that bronze, the spiderclaw staying firmly in hand, despite it's pinching efforts. The Ista Weyr cook watches the bronze with interest, and as the brown moves her vision instinctively moves towards him. Hrm, interesting. Taeryl, and Cieryn continues to sing, warbling loudly, as Brisan and Angeles rest on her two shoulders, watching curiously.
Hanneke shifts herself upon her knees, for once careless of her clothing's upkeep--there's something far more important to watch for. The blue is given an appraising glance; "Nice colour scheme, but perhaps--" she trails off, nestling down into the ground to get a better glance.
Z'ryel glances up from the goings on in front of him, eyes taken from it all to glance up at K'rill. A smile twists at the corner of his lips as he says "Thats usually how it is for predatory animals though." He agreeably says. He puts out his other hand with a second sliver of still warm raw flesh and dangles it 'tween two fingers.
Tropical Ocean Blue Hatchling finishes stretching his wings and starts stretching other bits of himself. Shoulders. Tail. Legs. Oh, and he might move, too. A bit of a saunter, that is, but his eye is quick and roving, fastening on a popping piece of food that *isn't* going into a firelizard's maw. There's something wrong with that idea.
Ambermoore has actually managed to tune everyone out... at least a little as she frowns at the water, absolutely still... she's not about to scare dinner... well actually, /breakfast/ if you go bit sheer time. Emerald eyes scan the watter looking for any sign of a bite.
Bettse watches too, beyond the nearest meat offerer. Hands sneak out, offering a glimpse of bright tunic, as she fusses with the gloves dangling across her collar. It's more genteel this way.
Mocked Bark-Brown Hatchling will take that second sliver with a hungry snatch, eyes traveling up Z'ryel's arm, past shoulder and into his face.
Mocked Bark-Brown Hatchling Impresses to Z'ryel.
Carise wiggles in her sandy seat, and with a face, pulls her legs back underneath her body to sit and watch. Browns continue to sit in front of her, eyes whirling as they not only hum, but hiss occassionally at any roaming hatchling. Dropping the sandwich to her lap, she sighs, just resigning to watch.
K'rill begs to differ with Z'ryel's comment. "Yes, but so are firelizards. All of the draconic species are. Watchweyrs, Dragons, Firelizards." Seeing as Llynth has just been included in the same sentence as both those other 'lesser' species, one can hear the faint bugle of outrage from a not too far off location. The bronze doth protest. "Dangling works as well..." And he is then proven true as the other rider is claimed by one of the hatchlings. Notice how his chest puffs out. The ego has been fluffed.
Dalaena watches the brown crawl up Z'ryel's arm, and then flicks her attention momentarily back to the blue, watching him at work before returning to the bronze. Ah, such majesty...such beauty.
Z'ryel glances around, curious eyes scanning the throng of people as he takes the brown firelizard close and feeds him another sliver, "Well, don't you folks just stand there or anything you know. Feed the buggers. Amazes me how ya'll are just standin' there like that. Don't want them ta go hungry now, do ya?" Glancing at K'rill he says "Thats what I said. Firelizards are predatory." He's not sure what K'rill's getting at, if his expression is any indication. He smiles at the little brown fella and strokes those headknobs as he quickly tries to slice off more meat from his small carcass.
"Congrats!" delights Hanneke for Z'ryel, her usual bubbly nature showing through her concentration upon the eggs and hatchlings--far more important than harpering, this.
Z'ryel calls to Mocked Bark-Brown Hatchling, who flies over and lands on his shoulder.
Ambermoore doesn't notice the impression, except as a rise in the noise, she's more interested in the slight pull on her fishing line... could she have caught something... in/spite/ of the commotion? She waits as patiently as the firelizard seekers, driven by much the same thing as drives the firelizards... Food!
Z'ryel smiles shyly at Hanneke. "Thanks." He cradles the firelizard in the crook of his arm as he feeds it gently.
Tropical Ocean Blue Hatchling eyes that food now dropped. Not offered, dropped. Nowhere *near* the sand where he is. Some sense of misplacement makes its way into his brain, which by others might be simply interpreted as 'fair game'. Indeed, a green has also spied the sandwich, but this laconical blue can move when he wants to, and he suddenly flurs into motion and right into Carise's lap. *His* sandwich.
K'rill cups a hand to his ear, trying to hear Z'ryel better, as suddenly the crowd's murmur grows to a bit of a higher pitch. Creeling hatchlings don't help out that much. Mouth opens to comment, when instead he abruptly finds one of his hands grabbed, tugged, and then thoroughly slimed. "Wha-
Carise jumps as the blue gets past the 'guarding' browns, and ends up in her lap. With a surprised gasp, she tries to rescue her sandwich from the creature, and with a sigh, gives up, tearing off smaller pieces to offer them to the blue, hoping to save a piece of the undamaged food for herself.
Pop-pop-pop! More eggs shatter, spilling greens galore.
Tropical Ocean Blue Hatchling eats and eats. Maaaaybe. Just maaaaybe. (Probably not.)
Tropical Ocean Blue Hatchling Impresses to Carise.
Sundial Egg creaks a quarter-turn to the left.
Remedial Egg bounces, impatient.
Hanneke gazes after the greens with longing--she's obvious at it, expounding realms of lavish information from her tongue (most of it lost beneath her breath) as she waves cooked, gravy-coated meat about. Ooh, appetising.
Beautiful Egg just reposes with all the tumult around.
Dalaena laughs as the blue hatchling charges up to Carise. "Congrats," she calls, watching the greens fly out from all the eggs. The spiderclaw is shifted in her hands as the watches the eggs bounce, shift, and generally move. The bronze is dropped out of her mind for the moment as she waits to see what these other beautiful eggs hold.
And yet, despite its repose, it's the Beautiful Egg that shatters next.
Beautiful Egg shatters into a thousand fragments, leaving its occupant out in the open.
Guttersnipe Bronze Hatchling
Lifted from the sewers -- but barely -- this bronze guttersnipe would reek of trash and waste, were it not impossible for colors to smell. As it is, flat beer's sludge mixes with the dregs of compost across his rancid hide, collecting in the hollows and joints as garbage catches in corners; the smoother spanses of belly and back run reasonably clear to a dulled bronze that does anything but match his spirit: snappish, defensive, and yet somehow proud, he's hardly desirable company -- but who knows what gems may hide beneath the grime.
K'rill blinks as he looks to the source of the sliming, to find a half-cleaned fillet of redfin and a rather scowly herder boy smirking at him. "You so smart? /You/ impress one." Rider blinks and then rises to the challenge. "Absolutly." Poise straightens for only a moment before he drops to his knees in the leathers his mother made him, but can't help to add, "But you know, there are alot of people here. These might be from inland firelizard stock. Don't have a taste for fish." Cover your rear, first lesson living in a Weyr taught him. That and to stay away from greenriders. Those wily greenriders have ways about them... Back to the hatching and your reputation, rider-boy.
And Jisa belongs to a greenrider. What might her children be like?
Carise stares down at the blue in her lap, tilting her head curiously to offer a few more pieces. At the new member of her fair, the two browns waddle over to stick their noses at the new, hungry, hatchling, demanding some of the food for themselves. Well, she's not going to get any of it, is she? Glancing over at Dalaena shyly, she smiles. "Thank you..."
Z'ryel considers. "You know I've got to find a name for this fella. My other two firelizards are Braveheart and Farseer." He muses.
Ambermoore mutters imprications on the noisy ones, shooting a glare at the greens. But her gaze is... captured, but the new bronze, and she chuckels a bit more sympathetically at him than at the others. A common bond? Perhaps, but the ex-theif turned Guard is distracted as /something/ snags her pole... and she hauls, her other fish absolutely unguarded for the moment, open to theft as Amber is occupied with her current catch.
Hanneke inadvertantly wiggles her rear as she gazes forward--pose utterly childish in composition, meat shaking within her light grasp, goeying her digits, an act that she reviews with a wrinkle of her nose.
Dalaena blinks as an egg shatters, revealing it's guttersnipe contents. In her long fingered hands the spiderclaw shifts, wriggling madly in its attemts to flee back to the ocean from whenst it came. Ceiryn hisses at the creature warningly, and it cowers with fright, making ti easier for the cook to handle. "Thank you, Cieryn," she says gratefully, leaning forward and starting to slide toward the gold's clutch. Quickly she leans out, and holds the quaking 'claw out as far as she can. All yours, please, take it, I don't want to be pinched again.
Z'ryel comments bemusedly "You know, that live shelled claw might be a bit too tough for their teeth." He glances at Dalaena as he says this.
Guttersnipe Bronze Hatchling slashes his tail about, glaring at the crowd. Whaddya want, surrounding him like this. Ain't for him, no way. He sidles sideways, grousing and grumbling and his gaze skits around with barely a chance to focus on anything. He doesn't want to deal with these people-creates. But he is hungry. Probably making him even more snappish. Something manages to catch his eye, though, and he darts toward an unprotected fish that's happily away from the crowd.
Sundial Egg shatters into a thousand fragments, leaving its occupant out in the open.
Balsamic Bronze Hatchling
Balsamic bronze battens the hatches of this burly fellow, smoothing as it spackles the bumpy hide that lies beneath that outer sheen. The gruffness of his personality needs a little polish as well, but he means well and a good heart can make up for any fault: even one as painfully obvious as the missing headknob that gives him a constantly canted head. Ever-so-wide, bulky wings could catch the wind and hold it prisoner within those vein-picked sails, but the twist of that tail sends it errantly on its way.
More eggs shed themselves of a few more greens... or is that the other way around? Oh, wait, there's a blue in there, too.
K'rill does the exact same wiggling trick spoke of before, and all that gets him is flish slime that spots his prescious wherhide pants. With each flicker, the sparkling milky white substance dribbles. "Aw, fardles." This is naturally spoken under his breath and hopefully without too many people hearing such words out of his mouth. Llynth wouldn't like /that/ at all either. Rider is already on his dragon's nasty list as it is. One bronze after another hatches and the rider immediatly cringes. Bronze. Do we really wanna go there again? Hesitate...
Remedial Egg bounces again, impatient. Why does *it* have to be among the last, huh huh?
Ambermoore crows in triumph as she hauls the new prize in, inadvertantly knocking against the already caught fish, and turns to put the new catch with the old... what's that? She pretends not to notice the thing after her fish and bussies herself with rod and line and getting the hook out of the still wriggling second fish.
Dalaena chuckles as the first bronze heads towards Ambermoore, and directs her attention to the second bronze, flicking ehr blue gaze over him like ocean waves. The missing headknob is noted, and a 'Oh, you poor baby' look is given, the spiderclaw offered just in sympathy, rather than an 'I want you, come here' offering.
Hanneke wastes no further time in eyeballing blues and browns; her attention taking itself most firmly upon the greens and bronzes. Her fair, comprised of blues and a brown, whirl eyes in time to their anti-melodious hum--no doubt not really aided by her Harperdom. "Bronzes!" Metallic fever, how we fear you.
Guttersnipe Bronze Hatchling snarls at Ambermoore as she disturbs his unfairly-caught meal. It's polished off in quick order, and one could hardly call his eating methods neat. In fact, there's a bit of a glistening scale or two stuck to the rapidly-drying goo that had caked him from jaw to tail. There's a glint in his eye, too, as he squints at this new fish. One was definitely not enough. Gimme that-- and he swipes the still-soft talons.
Deanna follows the river up from the south.
Remedial Egg bounces once more and earns itself a proper crack. There.
Remedial Egg shatters into a thousand fragments, leaving its occupant out in the open.
Winterlight Pyrite Hatchling
Small and slender, this gentle lady could blow away with but a gust of wind; pale gold infuses her hide with winter's scant light, fading almost entirely in the shadows of a fluted throat and beneath the smooth spanse of her belly and tail. Slim-cut wings hold a brighter glow, crystals of color nestled 'tween tip and 'spar. And yet, despite her seeming fragility, there is an innocent warmth about her: a sense of spirit and self that will always give, but never yield.
Deanna always manages to stumble onto the oddest things. In this case, it happens to look like...a firelizard hatching. "What an odd place to see all these people...oh." That would explain it. One hand fumbles about in her pouch. "I have a meatroll."
Z'ryel smiles up at Deanna "Here, have some of this carcass, this little fellow couldn't eat it all. He manages to slice off some slivers and walking toward Deanna he hads them over.
Balsamic Bronze Hatchling grumbles a bit to himself as he rouses himself out of the egg -- but then those enormous wings stretch out, and he might appear to grin. Lopsidedly, of course.
Ambermoore arches an eyebrow and grins broadly. "Oh, the little thief wants more..." emerald eyes dance and she lowers the fish... just now cleared of the hook. "Why should I give you my dinner?" but the new one wriggles on it's own, but faintingly...air! it's drowning in air! "Comeing to get it? or staying back nice and safe and starving?" She doesn't expect it to understand her, but she talks to furniture too when it anoys her.
A gasp flows from Dalaena's lips as the gold emerges, like so many glittering carets of white gold. "Oh, you're so beautiful..." she breathes, enraptured for a moment, unsed to such beauty from living in the Lower Caverns of a Weyr. The guttersnipe bronze is noted again as it goes after Ambermoore's items, and she giggles, soehow breaking free of the enrapturement. Cieryn and Taeryl thrum a deep welcome to the golden queen, bowing their greetings to the fair creature, and falling silent.
Winterlight Pyrite Hatchling rises out of her shell with a slightly startled meep. Did she really do that?
K'rill eyes the final egg with a trace of hope, redemption if you will. Fish wriggles from side to side as he allows his gaze to stray there. As egg is blown asunder, wishes are granted and rider's body deflates in relief. A bit of a shiver courses through his body, not for hatchling or hope, but for that fact that this is a Fortian winter and it is sharding cold out here. Being Ista-bred, the toes deep in his boots are beginning to feel the pinch and his nose is aquiring a redness one normally accords drunks. Hey, he only had one mug of ale tonite. *wigglewaggle*
Deanna suddenly has a big handful of sloppy wet meat bits. "Oh, this stuff is nasty," she says, wrinkling her nose. "But if they'll eat it..." She crouches down, holding out the meat bit. "Here, for whomever wants a meat bit."
Guttersnipe Bronze Hatchling is not going to stay nice and safe and starving -- none of those words really apply to him, anyway. He'll steal and eat hearty, and put that fish out of its misery -- not that he really cared about that bit. But in any case, no more fish for Ambermoore, just a greedy gullet of a grumpy firelizard challenging her with a glare that's ... softened? Never.
Guttersnipe Bronze Hatchling Impresses to Ambermoore.
Kyla shuffles along in the sand, muttering under her breath. "I have NO idea what Niabeth sees in Jerketh.." Her words are emphasized by kicking a small rock, which skitters near the crowd of people. Blink.
Hanneke lets out, yes, this is horribly embarrassing, a gasp of delight at the gold--"Oh, she's *lovely*! Oh, oh, how *beautiful*!" Oh, oh, could you just die? Perhaps not. Leaning further forward, Hanneke watches in pure rapture, waving her meat about with force--pick her, pick her? How embarrassing.
Ambermoore arches an eyebrow and reels in the bronze... takes a thief to catch a thief! Emerald eyes rake over the greedy little bronze, and she chuckles. Out dinner, and out fish, and not really minding at the moment. Takes a thief to catch a thief, right? But then again who just caught whom?
Z'ryel looks surprised, "Why hello there Kyla, come down to enjoy the river? Thats what I did and this then started."
Kyla hears the familiar voice and manages to weave her way over to the other Istan Rider. "Hey Z'ryel.. Niabeth was feeling the itch to come visit here." Green eyes slip over the scene, "So are you trying to get one, or are you trying to hide from the flying stomachs?"
Z'ryel smiles and says "I Impressed a wonderful brown firelizard. I think I'm going to name him Skybroom." He looks down at the firelizard curiously.
Winterlight Pyrite Hatchling regains her composure quickly enough, though it seems but a breath that blows her gently out of the sandy hollow that remains of her eggshell. Her chest swells as she inhales the fresh air mixed with... food. She might not have experienced it yet, but it definitely has her attention. A delighted creel escapes as she looks about with a changed intent.
Dalaena chuckles at the gold's meeping. Yes, you did do that, whatever it was you did. The Ambermoore bronze is eyed again and a smile spreads across her lips as the hatchling makes its claim. "Congrats!" she calls out with a chuckle. That fellow's going to be a handful. The other bronze is glanced at, and the spiderclaw at his feet eyed. Will the headknob missing bronze take the sympathy offering, or no? Who knows. The pyrite is glanced at once more before she turns to her blue and brown. "Lovely, isn't she?" she asks of the pair, who burble their agreement.
Deanna chuckles softly at the young rider who was kind enough to provide her with a boatload of slimy wet little meaty bits. Delighted creels? Well, they're enough to make her grin, and grin broadly. "Cute," she says, most uninformatively, as she waggles out a meat bit.
Jestine glances around at the scene before her with eyes as big as eggs. Only she would have the luck to be recuperating from an unknown sickness and run into a firelizard hatching. She sigs (sighs) softly and decides to sit on the outskirts of the melee. Just in case, she reaches into her pouch for the fish chunks she kept for her fair.
Kyla hears the hungry creel and can't help but turn to look. "Oh.." eyes widen, "It's a gold clutch..and isn't she a beaut!" Automatically her hands dig in her pocket for some left over meatrolll she always keeps for her own fair.
Hanneke is an embarassment to the Harpers really; her Journey-rank accompaniment is facepalming quietly across the other side of the group. Hanneke, meanwhile, has no hesitation in waving her sandwhich meat about like a child half her turns, exultant at this opportunity.
K'rill shifts in his crouched position, dropping forearm to brace upon leather-worn thigh. Half-clean redfin fillet flops with but this simple movement, adding a livliness that only existed when this fish truly was alive. Herder who gave him the fish -hey, whats a herder doing with fish anyway?- is looked to and awarded one of those chin-up moves. YOu know, the kind the show he knows what he is doing and will hopefully do it. As he turns away, that sure facade is just that, a facade. A throat-clearing grunt and a swallow before fish is wiggled to tempt the gold. Puh-lease? Male-ego is at stake here. That and he isn't sure he can stand the cool much longer.
*wigglewiggle* What's that? Curiousity takes the winterlight gold toward the cold shaking rider and, to be more precise, his redfin. She reaches for it with a delicacy that speaks more of simply being small and delicate rather than genteel manners.
"Whoops." Deanna's fingers are all slippery from those meatbits. She manages to drop one, and it rolls over toward the bronze hatchling. "Oh, shells. Clumsy me."
Balsamic Bronze Hatchling lops his head sideways during all this. Huh. Ah, well, the goldshine and all. Best be on his way to food, though.
Hanneke shows disappointment, perhaps, but it's hardly a lasting thing: her attention returns back to the bronze without reluctance, smile entreating (or an attempt at such), as her meat is proffered. Easy come, easy go.
Dalaena watches the pyrite with amusement, and then looks at the bronze as he takes a step attracting her attention only slightly, it is quickly turned back to moving spiderclaw that the balsamic bronze never snatched, and who is scurrying with all due haste towards the moving surf. Scuttle, scuttle, scuttle. A sea breeze whips the girl's black hair about and over her face, and she brushes it back, giggling at the playful, caressing breeze.
K'rill doesn't quite blink as she comes t'wards him. His saviour! Body crouches lower to the ground, leaning forth so that face is just a fraction above where his fingers move to the beat of an inner need. Heartbeat or soulbeat, or maybe his fingers are shiver 'cause they are getting awfully cold. Always at full manners with the ladies, head inclines which allows overly-long bangs to shield eyes once more. A bow to her will of sorts. *flitterwaggle*
If it's food the bronze one wants, then it's food he'll get...but mainly because Deanna seems bent on dropping everything in her hands. *splot* "Shells. This stuff will just -not- stay still!"
Jestine sees the bronze, but is unsure how to react to him. She shakes her head from side to side as if to attempt to clear it. Placing a clammy hand against her pale forehead, she attempts to focus on what she is trying to do. Breaking off some of the fresher pieces, she sets a little trail for any interested hatchling.
Kyla comes up empty handed and chuckles slightly, "As if I need another.." Her attention is returned to Z'ryel's newest acquisition. "So how many of those do you have?"
Seria rambles over a wind-caused dune, brown eyes widening at the site of such a crowd. "Is it a gather?" She inquires of a woman with gray-streaked hair who is passing, and the gentle smile she recieves, as well as the reply, brings a flashing smile of brightness to dark lips. "Ah, a hatching."
Z'ryel muses, "Just three Kyla. I don't really want too many. But gee they sure are cute little buggers, and they're handy too. I've got all sorts of uses I train them for."
Balsamic Bronze Hatchling buffs his hide a bit. He's got some kind of metallic sheen in there, he does. Yup. His chest puffs, then deflates wryly -- he'll be every wry. He finds a somewhat entreating smile to be intriguing... but her meat is more so.
Winterlight Pyrite Hatchling chirrups delightedly at K'rill. Fine, wonderful, but more food please.
Winterlight Pyrite Hatchling Impresses to K'rill.
Kyla pointedly looks at her empty shoulders, "You'll have to teach me how to train them." The blustering bronze gets a giggle, "What /is/ it with those fellas?"
Z'ryel shrugs and says "Just like trainin' any kind of animal Kyla, ya know. Takes paitence, creativity and positive attitude."
Ambermoore calls to Shrike, who flies over and lands on her shoulder.
Hanneke's somewhat entreating smile becomes somewhat more delighted--beaming smile caressing her face as she offers out her meat, eyes half closed in expectation. Youth is more than obvious; mental, rather than physical. Maybe? That meat wiggles again, hopping about her hand.
Kyla gets that all familiar greenrider leer..um..smile. "I think I know something of that." Just ask 'weyrboy Dominic'"
Bettse steals further along the bank. She'll watch from that warm patch of sand, yes.
Bettse walks back along the river towards the Inn.
Dalaena watches as the spiderclaw scurries into the sea and surf, and is swept away with the withdrawing wave. A smile is given to K'rill as he Impresses the gold, and the last fire-lizard is looked at, the girl smiling softly, but a bit sadly as she looks at his missing headknob spot. Poor critter, at least he's got spunk to carry him through. The spiderclaw suddenly gets a good pinch in and makes the cook yelp in pain, the spiderclaw going flying into the air as she jerks ehr hand back instinctively.
In response, Balsamic Bronze Hatchling hops into Hanneke's hand. Ah, here we go. Not exactly restful, perhaps, but...
Balsamic Bronze Hatchling Impresses to Hanneke.
Balsamic Bronze Hatchling looks at you with whirling eyes. You have Impressed him.
Jestine doesn't lose the character that the bronze exudes. She can't help but chuckle a little. Such a serious, little , ball of mischief! He will keep his human active.
Jestine calls to Ijarjuk, who flies over and lands on her shoulder.
K'rill abruptly finds himself looking to the little gold and obediently stuffing her open maw with food. And, he is more than happy to. Cold fish isn't the funnest thing to hold onto, even if it is all kinds of smelly and slimy. And he does talk to her, "My pleasure..."
Ambermoore sighs at the crowd and shrugs, walking further down the river bank. Maybe she can find some place to replace the fish that Shrike decided to steal. She's still hungry, even if he isn't anymore.
K'rill calls to Winterlight Pyrite Hatchling, who flies over and lands on his shoulder.
Dalaena smiles at Hanneke, and decides to let the flying 'claw go. "Ooow."
Deanna slips out, muttering about washing the gook off her hands.
Deanna walks back along the river towards the Inn.
Seria stands on her tiptoes to try and see over several tall men's heads, an act that causes hearty chuckles from several of those nearby. She manages a mock glare, but soon turns, her hope of seeing who entices one of the hatchlings quite abated by her inability to see. She disappears in the direction she came.
Seria walks back along the river towards the Inn.
Hanneke bubbles intensely, horrifying thought though that is, feeding bronze, and gathering him into her arms with the delight of a young child, racing towards her companion with brilliant comments--"Lookie!" Oh, dear Faranth.
You quietly slip back along the river towards the Inn.