June 27, 2004
Siramyth and Arisvath's eggs finally hatch.

Previous Next

Kiora steps onto the searing black Sands from the foyer.

Arisvath lifts himself up on his haunches and begins to hum, the sound echoing through the cavern - and slowly but surely, through the weyr. A little, almost rounded egg beside his left forelimb begins to shake, and he glances down to consider it thoughtfully.

Siramyth makes a rather obnoxious noise deep in her throat -- it's nothing so pleasant as Arisvath's call, but perhaps that can just be chalked up to inexperience. She nudges ineffectually at an egg, swings her head and nearly knocks over Kiora, and pauses long enough to threaten the candidates now making their way in from the bowl. How exciting.

A little girl - barely old enough to stand - nearly tumbles as she enters the sand, squealing. She gets a long, dark glance from the Candidate Coordinator leading her in, and turns brilliantly red, hurrying into place amid the other candidates. Her eyes are wide with fear and excitement; she squeezes the hand of the boy next to her unrelentingly.

R'hyn arrives just after the candidates start to, a little red-faced at his tardiness. He's dressed properly, though, and runs his hand through his hair as he darts towards the two dragons and Kiora, muttering apologies. Arisvath gives him a half-hearted huff, then resumes humming; there are more important things to think about, clearly.

Kiora beams delightedly at R'hyn through the crowd of candidates. "Aren't they cute? I wonder if I looked that scared when I was out there?" Kiora pauses to consider this, though apparently too long for Siramyth's tastes; Ki is nudged again, and curtsies politely to the Candidates once they've given their traditional bows. A couple of dismal-looking eggs have already begun cracking -- they don't really need protocal, after all."

Ederis, an older boy nearly too old, in fact, to stand again, takes a half step forward to meet the eggs, expression hopeful. One of the boys next to him grabs him back, this one apparently quite a bit more nervous. "Don't-- you might get hurt!" Ederis' eyes roll, a longing glance made towards the rocking eggs.

A dark-haired youth in his mid-teens follows a couple of giggling girls onto the sands. Jovern's expression is deadly serious, and he remembers to bow to the clutch-parents /exactly/ as he was taught before taking his place with the other candidates.

"I /know/ I did. But then, I threw up beforehand," admits R'hyn, with a somewhat rueful - yet excited - expression. "It's been-- a long time." Hastily, he bows, just a moment after Kiora's curtsey, looking violently embarrassed.

From the egg closest to Arisvath's forelimb - the bluey-green one he has prized above all the others - hatches a teetering brown, the egg disappearing in a burst of dust. The wobbly-legged hatchling drags himself across the sands, almost immediately tripping right over a waiting girl.

Shasari, petite and blonde, ends up knocked over in a pile of brown dragon. Her scream of terror cuts off, abruptly, as she begins to cover the teetering brown with kisses and caresses; "Emerioth! Gosh, I never dreamed you'd be so lovely!" A waiting weyrlingmaster helps her up, murmuring something - audible to only those closest by - about waiting for kisses until he's less sandy.

"He tripped!" Kiora sounds remarkably delighted by this. "Brown's supposed to be good, right?" She doesn't wait for the answer, though -- she squeals gleefully as a nearby egg splits, revealing a rather nefarious-looking blue that speeds immediately towards the far end of the sands. "Gosh, they always go by so quickly, don't they?"

R'hyn's smile twitches with a barely suppressed laugh at Shasari's furious kisses; "A very good sign," he intones, head shaking. "Oh, look, and a blue as well. They're solid looking creatures, so far." He digs his right hand into his pocket, the other resting upon Arisvath's forelimb.

A trio of girls from Ista Hold giggle delightedly, pointing fingers after Shasari. "Look at /her/! What a dope," one of them insists, swaying quietly. "I always knew she was /unnatural/. Who'd want to ride brown?"

From an egg on the far edge of the sands, a minty-fresh green hatches. Dainty and almost graceful, even in her earliest of moments, she stretches herself out, righting herself upon the sand before she even thinks of movement. When she does move, it's with a direct determination that has her paused in front of Jovern within moments, her eyes lifted to meet his.

Jovern steps smartly aside as the blue charges past, then resumes his place in line with his two neighbours. Such precision, he might be a guard. Oh, wait, he /is/ a guard, when he's not a candidate. The girls on either side have avoided the charging blue as well, but one is wailing in fright. "It's all right. You just need to keep your eyes open and you'll be fine." Sure.

The blue quite promptly homes in on the trio of girls, moving at such a hazardous speed that it's quite surprising he tumble into the young brunette in the middle when he finally stops. He quirks his head thoughtfully, nips at a pointing finger, and eventually butts the stomach of the brunette, Elanora. "Oh -- what? /Corlath?/" A weyrlingmaster quickly escorts her off, leaving the other two bewildered in her wake.

A Harper from Nerat softly - as if without noticing it - begins to hum beneath her breath. She gets furious glances from all around, turns scarlet, and shuts up. "I didn't-- Oh!" Her mouth gets clamped shut, fingers grasping tightly upon the edge of her robe as if it were all that keeps her from bursting into song - or perhaps terrified tears.

Kiora watches the hatchlings with infinite amusement. "They're real cute," she adds in a belated agreement. "Solid and all that stuff." But solid tends to translate into fat when Siramyth's involved, and the bronze that hatches from a disturbingly yellow egg is quite obviously from her line. "Oh!" Squeal, goes Ki. "It's like a chubby puppy!" An ignoble way to enter the world, to be certain.

Deltran is 13. This is relevant because he's already too tall for his own good, and though he has managed to stay relatively close to the other boys, he's still somehow isolated, eyes darting from nowhere to nowhere else, arms crossed protectively across his chest as he rock-hops from foot to foot. As the green darts by him, he steps back nervously, and glances back over his shoulder as though there's something much more interesting over there. "Let's go," he mutters through barely-moving lips.

R'hyn strains to see, stepping up onto his tiptoes curiously. "How many's that now?" he wonders, head shaking. "I can't quite see - too much going on!" He follows the direction of Kiora's squeal to catch a glimpse of the bronze. "I... suppose he is, yes," he admits, almost seriously. "How exciting."

Jovern turns suddenly away from the girl he was reassuring, looking in astonishment at the green hatchling who has somehow appeared in front of him. What was that about keeping his eyes open? They're open now - open wide, as he drops to his knees and gently extends a hand to caress the green head. "Iriath? You're beautiful, yes. Quite beautiful!" J'vern stands again as the weyrlingmaster comes to lead the pair away.

Siramyth noses after the chubby brown, though she seems to accept that it's rather dangerous to move very far. "Four? Five? Some kind of number," Kiora offer usefully. "Maybe four. It's hard to keep up."

A second green, this one much darker in hue, hatches from towards the middle of the grounds. She's not particularly graceful, tripping over her own limbs at least twice before she's managed to gain some kind of sensible locomotion. A few girls gasp in delight as she comes near them, but she slinks on again, seeking out something -- well, a little different, perhaps.

The two girls left after the third member of their trio was taken away by that blue peer curiously across the sands, clutching each other's hands for dear life. "A blue! She's-- well! I thought better of her," mutters the taller of the two, though the shorter shakes her head. "She looked happy. I wouldn't mind... if it made me that happy."

Or the chubby bronze. Either way, he doesn't seem particularly encouraged by his mothers' movements. Most of the candidates thus far seem to think he's a bit comical, which might perhaps be the case, but certainly there's got to be something better out there -- so he chugs along, gracelessly dodging flying eggshards and speedier siblings to plop down at Deltran's feet with a thump. Howdy, then.

Ederis swallows thickly, apparently disappointed at the Impression of the bronze, the brown, the blue - and even the green. He wipes a sweaty hand upon his robe, then shakes it, and glances off at the as-yet unhatched eggs. Come, ON. One of them, surely, will hold his lifemate.

The quieter of the ex-guard's two neighbours is Arita, a stocky girl from a cothold family. Her muscles show that she's well used to working the land, but at the moment the most energetic thing she's doing is raising herself to her tiptoes in an effort to avoid the heat of the sand, and shuffling a bit in the way candidates do. When J'vern and Iriath move away, she shuffles a little closer to the other girl and says with a chuckle, "Well, who'd have thought he'd get a green. He fancied himself for a bronze, that one!"

Deltran whips around suddenly as a woman's excited voice cries out from the Sands, his confused eyes brightening-- "Hey, Mom, I didn't think yo--" Only, no. It was *Dartrin* she was calling, and the boy's friends smirk at Deltran, whose cheeks glow as he subsides. "Sorreeeyaaah..." Distraction. One moment. He freezes, staring. The fingers on his right hand twitch a little. Why. Hello.

The green - or rather, the second green, and not the third, for there is now another on the sands - wavers for a moment in front of a couple of boys, then resumes her search. The other green, milky-jade hued, is more direct: she marches up to one candidate after another, then marches off again. The darker green pauses, abruptly, in front of the shorter of the two girls, Elerina, who wraps her arms around her, delighted. "Meiashath!"

Words are forming on Deltran's lips, but there's no sound. It's kind of creepy, actually, how motionless he is, with his life story blossoming on his face and dying on his tongue. And then, through the haze, he remembers--or manages to croak, anyway: "Renzith. Oh." Renzith mewls. Yeah. Cool, in't it?

A slender blue appears from no where, having moved unobtrusively through the eggs and looking quite uncomfortable now that he's reached open ground. He's rather to miss, not being anything spectacular in appearance, and the boy whose side he appears at has a brief coughing fit in shock. "Oh -- Sovinth, what?" Helward, the Smith lad who seems to have captured the blue's attention, just nods blankly. "Right. Okay." And off they go.

There is, thusly, one girl left out of the former trio, one claimed by blue, the other green. This third girl is Taiana, whose long, auburn hair is beginning to get tangled and dank, something she doesn't appreciate much. She stamps one foot, then another, and then lets out a monumental squeal, as a brown, newly hatched, wobbles up to her -- attracted by the stamping. He considers her once, and then Impression is made. Her jaw drops. "Hagaranth... Um. I. /Hi/."

"Hey. Move. MOVE. I can't SEE around your fat head." Easily identifiable as the sex object of the present candidate group, Iniya--tall, blonde, statuesque, etc.--pushes impetuously past a frightened girl who has, horror of horrors, stepped in front of her. "How am I supposed to *see*. My *father* is *watching*." Hairflip. "I wish they weren't so... gooey."

Moonlit and richly jeweled in tone, the blue that hatches from the purpleish egg to one edge is immediately admired by the candidates around him. He's not unaware of this, either, preening for a moment or two before the red in his eyes grows darker, and the hunger in his belly draws him off towards more suitable candidates. This doesn't stop his tail from twitching smoothly against the sand, his head tilted to /just/ the right advantage.

Arita drags stubby fingers through tangled blonde curls, then rubs the back of her hand over a damp forehead. "I just don't believe this heat! It wasn't this bad when we came to touch the eggs." Her neighbour tells her, "Maybe not, but I think I feel worse because everyone's looking at us, too." Arita nods and goes back to watching the hatchlings. "Look, another blue - handsome!"

R'hyn is one of the people looking at candidates; the smile playing upon his lips is reflective, as though he's lost in nostalgia, though as he murmurs to Kiora, "They've got it much better than I did. The hatchlings were half obscured by sand, when I stood. The queen buried them, of all things."

A rather murky-looking green finds her way out of the chaos that is her hatching clutchsiblings; she moves at a determined pace on a path that takes her closer to Siramyth and Arisvath than the candidates currently being presented, and it's only after Siramyth snorts forcefully that she turns in the proper direction. No harm in trying, at least.

A blue, a green and a brown hatch in quick succession, and apparently march off in the same direction, towards four siblings carried in from one of the smaller Ista holds. One family will have a great deal to celebrate tonight, as three of the four find themselves wrapping arms about their new lifemates: "Eberianth!" "Kereinth!" "Tcheiovoth!" The fourth sibling, the youngest boy, looks devestated for a moment, though he manages an encouraging smile as his siblings are taken off, and a nearby girl grabs for his hand.

Iniya, catching this exchange, visibly rolls her eyes. "Like anyone's watching *you*, Arita." Pointedly, purposefully, she beams a perfect, luminescent smile at an important-looking, well-dressed man seated in one of the front rows. Look at ME, Da-- "WATCH IT!" The girl whom Iniya so callously brushed aside snatches her out of the way of a stray blue claw, which very nearly sliced open her perfect leg. And her thanks? A shriek. "Don't TOUCH me! Do you KNOW how long it took to do my HAIR?"

The richly jeweled blue certainly takes his time, weaving his way across the sands with a thoughtful - if rather vague - air. It's all a matter of finding the right one, you see. He pauses, at one point, as if seriously considering a young man who hardly breathes in excitement, but moves on again; the boy's face falls, crushed. It's this blue's fault that Iniya's leg is very nearly marred for life, though he seems not to notice, moving on again.

"That one looked lost," Kiora notes, pointing after the departing green. "And that one is sort of stupid." She points at Iniya, this time. "Do you think she'd be more concerned with her leg, or with getting blood on her robe?"

The milky jade green wends her way in amongst the candidates, finally drawing up to a young man from the Southern continent, whose face lights -- and then darkens again, as she makes a half turn, facing his cousin, Jetsha, who wraps her arms about the green in pure delight. "Zaivath, dearest love." The weyrlingmasters take the new pair away, and her cousin, Mietchan, is left to sulk.

"Tell me about it," murmurs R'hyn, highly amused. "Oh, I don't know - that'd be a close one. The leg would be scarred for life, surely, but as if she'd want to have to stand here in a dirtied robe!"

Arita raises an eyebrow at Iniya's outburst, and her companion, who actually made the remark about being watched, giggles. Arita says coolly, "Well, /you/ might usefully watch the dragons instead of your admirers, Iniya!" She extends a hand to her friend, and the two edge closer to the remaining eggs and away from Iniya.

Ederis breathes. In, and out. In, and out. His disappointment is growing fast. There must be only half the eggs left, now, or close to it - and he's still not found his lifemate. A girl nearby offers him her hand, but he refuses it brusquely, focusing instead upon the various hatchlings. Breathe.

Kiora mutters something incomprehensible, but the words 'wouldn't', 'arse', and 'hot sands' are mildly audible.

The jeweled blue hesitates. He turns, and with a graceful swiftness, follows an edging pair of girls from behind. It's not quite a pounce - he's far too dignified for that - but what was intended as a single forelimb on the back is a little stronger than that; hopefully, Arita will manage to turn without too much agony, and meet her match.

R'hyn coughs, spluttering, but manages not to lose his entire composure.

"You're welcome," Dyna--the girl who snatched Iniya from Certain Maiming--growls. "You don't have to be such a--" She cuts herself off, takes a deep breath. No. No evil nouns at a Hatching. As it is, Iniya is busily finger-combing her hair, checking her robe for Fat Girl Cootie Stains (or something), etc., and doesn't even notice. "You're just jealous," she spits at Arita. "I hope you Impress a /brown/." Somehow, it's an insult. And oo, icky, another gooey green. She steps back. "Not pretty enough."

The murky green continues along, nearly bowled over by some of her siblings in their haste. She reaches the candidates eventually, however, and when she's within a few feet of Ederis she begins picking up speed -- she quickly stumbles and slides a few inches, coming to a halt in a creeling heap in front of him. Help?

Ederis stops breathing. For at least a moment or two, anyway, his eyes going wide. "Oh. /Oh/." He stoops, reaching down to smooth the green's - /his/ green's - head, hovering there as if he's afraid letting go will mean she disappears forever. "I'll help you, Rhianith. Here, let me help you up." His smile is breathless and ecstatic - he seems to be shaking, almost too much to actually help Rhianith to her feet again. E'ris positively beams.

Another bronze quickly appears from the growing rubble, and quite decisively moves towards a young weyrbred boy named Marrick. He pushes his way past a few insistant boys who attempt to move in front of him, nearly knocking one over with a misplaced swipe of his stubby tail. But it's Marrick he wants and Marrick he gets -- there's a brief pause, and Marrick has just enough time to call, "Of course, Takuth!" before a weyrlingmaster pulls him aside.

Arita lets out a loud gasp as she is clawed from behind, and stumbles, landing on the sand with the blue on top of her. Her friend screams, "You're bleeding!" She is indeed: the blue has ripped her robe and left deep claw-marks across her back. Arita just says through clenched teeth, "Mederoth, could you please get off? Yes, you can eat. But not until you move!"

With a deafening crack, another egg collapses into rubble, and a green emerges, apparently unscathed. She's large, solidly built and somewhat dulled in colour, as though the shine never quite stuck. She lumbers - even at this age, this size, it seems she can do little else - across the sands at a deliberate pace, her gaze apparently already set upon one person in particular. It doesn't matter whether Iniya backs away or not, this green knows who she wants, and won't be denied.

A Journeyman Healer, stationed towards one side of the sands, rushes out to help Arita. "Can you walk?" he wants to know, expression concerned. "We'll get you both off the sands, and to somewhere more comfortable, shall we?"

A blue and a green hatch in quick succession, parting ways part of the way across the sands, and finding their partners without too many problems. The blue delights in his Herder Apprentice, N'kev, who calls out his lifemate's name in a booming voice: "Ferieth!" The green is a little more restrained, though her lifemate - a broad-hipped and buxom holder girl - has no such intentions. "Her name is Dhayeth! DHAYETH!"

Kiora grimaces visibly as Arita is escorted off. "Hope that heals quick. And that he doesn't do it again ..." She frowns thoughtfully, then turns her attention to the rest of the eggs, attempting to count them and failing; the remaining eggs hatch too quickly for her to keep up.

A third bronze hatches, this one somewhat greened and silvered, his hide a little reminiscent of Arisvath's own. Choosy, but determined, he seems to go in an almost perfect straight line to find his one and only; the boy, deserted only minutes before by his three siblings, goes apparently mute for a moment, mouth opening and closing dumbly until he can finally express himself. "Shapyreth!"

Iniya is horrified and smug at the same time, and looks about ready to make another rude comment when it becomes obvious that, despite the wound, Arita is quite satisfied with her situation. And then she's darkly, silently livid. She glowers at the sand, a few sweaty (gasp!) strands of hair sliding in front of her face. Only-- She looks up and around. "Where--?" Dyna's groan is lost in the sound of the cheering from Iniya's fan club as she lays a hand on the green's head and says, "Beleth." Pause. "What do you mean, I'm /yours/?"

Mederoth is by now crooning remorsefully in Arita's ear, but he still takes a sideswipe at the Healer who seems to be trying to take his new-found beloved away. Arita exclaims, "No, love, he's just trying to help!" as she gets to her feet, and the pair follow the man to the edge of the sand.

Another brown hatches, this one the rich colour of mahogany, his wings patterned in spicy striations of cinnamon and cloves. Long and slender, he takes his time in getting up, but seems able to move quite quickly once he's done so; his trip across the sands is indirect, as he pauses to consider one candidate after another, always seeking onwards.

The healer - thankfully - knows how to duck, and seems almost amused. "You're going to be fine, young lady. You and your lovely blue." Just watch him keep a slight amount of distance, nonetheless.

A brown and a green hatch from a pair of very mismatched eggs, moving rapidly through the remaining candidates and splitting only when they find their chosen -- the brown latches on to a black-haired girl from Igen who promptly squeals, "Seyth!" while the other moves towards a tall, sturdy blonde-haired boy from the Smithcrafthall whose response is quite a bit more subdued. "Err -- Anyelath? Sure, why not."

Of the three who started out together, that leaves Arita's friend Melena. She takes another good look at the clawmarks on her chum's back, and starts looking round urgently. Keeping an eye on the dragons, yes - but also pinpointing the nearest exit. She tenses in anticipation, and takes a deep breath - she's ready to make a run for it!

Dyana, watching with mixed emotion as Iniya and Beleth are carted off, stretches a little as she surveys the remaining candidates and hatchlings. Her gaze lands on a pair of boys hop-footing nearby, and she scoots over their direction with a dry, "We're doomed." The taller of the two boys, a dusty-haired Telgarian named Jeron, smirks at her. "Yeah. We saw."

The mahogany brown ambles more than anything, until he's within sight of one girl in particular, and makes a graceful lunge at her, stopping quite short of his target, safely. His head is lifted, his eyes turning blue-green as they whirl faster than ever. Dyna, Dyna - his love!

Another blue, paler than most but far from white-ish, hatches from one of the few remaining eggs. He's quick: before Melena has time to make a run for it, he's at her side, nudging her expectantly - though is talons remain, thankfully, well out of the way.

A vividly turqouise blue tumbles from one of the few remaining eggs. His path from there is equally clumsy, and he stumbles over eggshells and himself as he trundles towards the candidates left. He sniffs a boy, then sniffs a girl, then continues distractedly along the line, looking very indecisive or just very intent on not keeling over.

Jeron's friend seizes his arm. "Hey, man, look! That brown's coming over here!" "What? Oh, hey--" They collect themselves, ready to lunge in the necessary direction. Dyna quirks a smile and stands back, giving them the chance to... to... Uh. "Ganth." The boys step aside, gawking.

Green is the colour of the dragon that hatches from the second-last egg upon the sand, nudged on by Arisvath when she hesitates too uncertainly. Her hesitant creel echoes over the sands; she looks positively terrified, hardly able to move, even with her sire's encouragement.

Melena forgets her panic as she flings her arms around the pale blue dragonet. "No, I know you'd never hurt me, Catobeth. I'm silly, yes. And you're hungry. All right, we can do something about that." She's almost babbling, eyes shining with happy tears. One of the weyrlingmasters comes alongside. "He's hungry? Let's find him some food, then. Come on."

The turquoise blue stumbles along confusedly -- he starts in on Dyna but is unfashionably late, and when he pivots he seems to become aware that he was also embarrasingly wrong. He focuses on Jeron and steps confidently forward, nudging gleefully at the young man's shin.

The green finally takes a hesitant step forward, and then another. After a moment, she comes to a halt, as if she's decided to latch on to the very first candidate she can, and save herself the humiliation of a search. The little girl, still quite young, wraps her arms about the green comfortingly. "I'll never leave you alone, Tyavenath."

Jeron and Kindad watched with varying levels of amusement and respect as Dyna and Ganth move off the Sands, calling things after her like "You tell 'em, Dy!" and "He'd better not grow bigger than my bronze," when the realization hits Kindad: "Hey, there are only two left." "One's green." "Yeah." "You want her?" "Why not?" "...you got something you need to tell me-- HIYEE!" Something gooey and gross is nudging at Jeron's leg! Run away! "Hey, what's the...ahhhgnh."

The blue certainly isn't /gross/. A bit -- damp, perhaps, but not gross. He makes a rather offended noise, and then wipes his snout usefully on Jeron's nose, looking up at him expectantly. Any better>

The last egg cracks and breaks, revealing a green the color of limes and unripe bananas. Realizing she's almost the last hatchling standing, she quickly traces her brother's steps, skidding to a stop and bumping into Kindad's legs. Hello, there. Been keeping some secrets?

"Much better, Winzuth." Only J'ron doesn't really care, because he's laughing and picking goo off the blue's neck and wings. Kindad's happy for him, really he is. But his foot scuffs at the sand, and he turns away to let his friend and his lifemate have a Moment-- and runs smack into the green. "Hey, be *careful*, Xinyth!" -- Xinyth? "OH!" Hey, how 'bout them apples!

Arisvath hesitates, nosing forwards as if trying to see if, maybe, there's another egg amid the debris. There doesn't seem to be, and the sound of his hum slowly fades away, both contented and disappointed at once. R'hyn lays his hand back on the bronze's forelimb. "I know. All gone, Arisvath. You make good children, though. Three bronzes, out of twenty-five eggs! That's really good." He finally, hesitantly, risks a glance up at the galleries, turning pink. "I'd forgotten how many people'd be watching." Quickly, his gaze is turned away again. "Free. -- Oh." His gaze turns towards the remaining, disappointed, candidates, and he swallows thickly.

A young woman bursts into tears, as she realises there are no eggs left. A boy nearby reaches out to wrap his arms about her, though his eyes tell of far more than just an interest in consoling her - perhaps Revarn will finally get his chance with Jessin.

Kiora heaves a disappointed sigh -- Siramyth echoes her, and, after nudging briefly at Arisvath, begins sorting through the remains of her first clutch. "That was exciting," Kiora yawns, stretching a bit. She then eyes the remaining candidates, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Suppose we ought to go talk to them, hm?"

Arisvath returns Siramyth's nudge, and then, in a gesture of true - well, something - joins her in the sorting process. "Careful there," murmurs R'hyn. "They might want to come back for the shards, later. Yeah," he adds, to Kiora. "It was. Um. Yeah. Guess we do." He takes a step forward, clearing his throat. "Erm. Thank you, all, for Standing today. It, um, is never fun not to Impress. But there will be more clutches!" He breaks off, as if unsure of what else to say.

Jessin isn't the only one in tears. Though most of the candidates have managed to keep their disappointment to snot, sniffles, and lots of face-wiping with wrists and palms, some of them look like they'd rather be anywhere else but *there*, alone, under the gazes of their families and friends.

Kiora rubs her nose a bit, trailing along after R'hyn. "I know you guys must be pretty sad," she adds after a moment. "But -- well, if there wasn't a chance you would Impress, then you wouldn'a been brought to Stand. So if you wanna stay here and your families don't mind, you're welcome to, and if you wanna go back home or to your crafthalls then we'll get you there. But don't be sad about this, 'cause there are five other weyrs and a lot of other golds and ... well. Y'know." She trails off awkwardly. "Lots of other eggs, I guess."

"Yeah," says R'hyn, picking up from Kiora. "We'd love to have you all back. We appreciate you all." It sounds kind of lame, but at least one girl bursts into tears, again, and R'hyn turns scarlet. "Um. I guess you can go. There's a feast, and all, if you feel like it. Or we're happy to talk, if you'd prefer that, too."

A few of the older candidates look at Kiora and R'hyn with pity. Poor, silly clutchparents. Aren't they CUTE? Look at them, trying to be all comforting and stuff. Silly rabbits.

R'hyn seems to have picked this up, and goes redder still. He glances at Arisvath, then at his feet, and says, "Erm. I'm going to the caverns. Talk to me later, if you, you know, want." Time to escape.

You step off the blackened heat of the Sands to the cooler purchase of the foyer.

Previous Next