Ista Weyr Log: Omfaleth and Bromith's Hatching, November 2003

Omfaleth and Bromith's Hatching - Sunday, November 23, 2003
Logfile from Griere

You make your way into the candidates' quarters to the southwest.
Candidates' Quarters

The barracks of Ista Weyr are crowded almost Turn round with the Candidates for its queens' Hatching. Cots line both walls and even the space in between. All the cots have a small press at the foot of them for Candidates' few belongings.
As it's the day hours, only a few Candidates can be seen here.

A curtain leads out into the east cavern.
Contents:
Roux
Al'oren
Claia
Nettle
Murkey
Torrez
K'tdan
Brees
Ullan
Apheri
Ceryca
Callyndra
Arrhian
Paint Pots
Fidelis
Damon
Joar
Raider
Catriona
Mumble
Crystalline Sand Bowl
Candidate Choreboard
Wardrobe Code (a la Reye!): Instructions
Obvious exits:
East Cavern

Ceryca ties the rope around her waist, fingers shaking a little and causing her to fumble twice at the knot before she gets it secure. Attention turns next to her hair, gathering it at the nape of her neck and tying it securely around, though the shorter strands immediately fall loose.

Joar winks back to K'tdan, the weyrbrat having no qualms about getting bare in a hurry, "Baskets of time Kat."

Raider runs around with his pants still visible out the bottom of his robe, trying to find appropriately large sandals. Skittish chirps from where she'd been hiding in a pocket of the pants, sounding confused, and Raider freezes where he stands. "Kiddo, you gotta wait here. Stay with the other firelizards, okay?"

Al'oren slips into the room. He folds his arms across he chest as he watches the candidates scramble about. He has an almost whimsical little smile on his face as he leans against the wall.

Torrez is taking his darn sweet time in dressing. He wraps a bit of cloth around his hand that got cut with the snapping of his string and puts the guitar and case safely away. "So, Apheri?" His voice gets muffled by his shirt as he pulls it off. "mph, you going to stand with me still?"

Claia looks around at the other candidates and blushes even more as she drops her towel and pulls her robe over her head. She smoothes the soft fabric down over her hips and checks to make sure the robe is covering everything it should be. Sitting down on her cot, she gracefully ties her sandal straps.

Fidelis wriggles his toes and tugs at the sleeves of his robe. Good enough. Once dressed and ready to go, he settles into that blank stare of his. Doesn't anything get to him?

Apheri glances over at Torrez. "Of course I am, don't be a wherry!"

K'tdan adjusts his sling as he watches. Spotting Brees, he smiles. "Looks like it is time," he tells her needlessly.

Raider patiently coaxes Skittish off his shoulder with much assurances to the firelizard.

Griere is apparently just in from the bathing pools. her hair is still up, but the few tendrils around her face and neck have that damp curly look. She's wrapped in just a towel as she makes her way to her cot and press. Her demeanor may seem as calm and confident as ever, but she's still getting her color back from the initial rumble or dragon humming.

Callyndra ties a piece of white hide around her hair and knots it quickly, leaving a few wisps drifting about her face. Then she wriggles her feet into the sandals she fixed up for tonight.

Ullan stretches out and breathes deeply again, smiling at the other candidates "Whatever happens on the sands... I just want to say I really enjoyed my time as a candidate. Thanks"

Nettle tosses things out from under her cot, ignorant and uncaring of where things land. She finds, at last, her polished sandals and straps them on. The robe, which was already laid at the top of her clothespress, was easier to find and she slips it on. Dressed and ready, she paces back and forth muttering to herself and flashing nervous grins around the room.

Ceryca next has trouble with the sandals. It's four tries before she gets the small buckle on one fastened, and one the fifth attempt on the second when she yelps with frustration, "Scorch it all, /buckle/ you sharding thing!" Seems that does the trick, and after a moment, she stands, brushing imaginary wrinkles and lint from the white robe.

Arrhian finally ties off the braid and goes over to stand by Catriona. Her small face is a white mask of calm, she's smiling slightly, but there's a tremor in her voice as she murmurs to her friend "Cat? Walk with me?"

"Miss Cally?" Raider calls, placing the young green firelizard on a cot for the third time in a row. "Seear is going to keep an eye on her, right?" The man looks more concerned about the firelizard than the hatching, though someone best remind him to take the pants off from underneath before they go anywhere. "Or Murkey, or Roux, or any of them..." He points a finger at the firelizard, a gesture of 'stay'.

Torrez tosses his clothing on the cot and pulls his robe on bare. "Well good. I thought I'd wounded you deeply with my insult to your singing ability."

Joar tugs a robe over his nekid self, this time around it makes it all the way to his knees, unlikely to flash anyone bending over, "Hey, I think Jar switched my robe!"

Callyndra looks over at Raider and nods. "Yes, he'll stay here." The bronze warbles somehow while he's still humming and drifts over to land near the green.

Claia straightens up and takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. She smiles at the others wondering what they're thinking as she plaits her long hair.

Catriona has been peering professionally from a distance at K'tdan's arm. Some instincts and habits are hard to ignore. "Hm?" She glances at Arrhian, and beams. "Of course." She leans over and snatches up the girl's left hand, and squeezes. "It'll all be okay. You'll see." Then, when her firelizard's name is mentioned, she looks over at the mentionee. "Oh." Hm. "Roux'll watch out for her." Yes he will. "Won't you sweetness?" she coos back at her little bronze, all nice and curled up on her pillow. Then it's back to standing at serious attention.

Ceryca's blue eyes now survey the room with an apparent calm, stopping on Raider. She moves away from her cot, leaving her discarded clothing in a jumble on the floor. "Raider? Your pants," she says in a low voice when she's near enough to be heard.

Ullan sits next to Murkey, who is still laying lazily on the cot "I want you to keep an eye on all the others while we're gone, little friend. Can you do that for me?". As only response, the blue chubby thing warbles and that seems to be enough.

K'tdan steps around inspecting his charges critically, reminding those who need to wear their hair loose or tied back simply in addition to wearing sandals or going barefoot. As for the robes, as long as they cover up the candidate modestly, he doesn't comment.

Damon simply waits, quiet, and though he might try his best *not* to look nervous, it's pretty clear that he is.

Nettle stands up straighter as K'tdan passes by: shoulders thrown back, chin up, toes wriggled into the ends of her sandals. "Wish me luck, K'tdan?"

Raider turns slightly more red than usual, and pulls the pants off from beneath his robe, tossing them on the cot next to Skittish and Seear. "Right. No pants. Just the robe." He seems to have given up on sandals, instead going barefoot like Fidelis. A hand reaches out to grab for Ceryca's elbow, to bring her along as he presses between the other candidates towards Catriona and Arrhian.

Joar kicks his flipflops under his messy cot, finding some 'real' sandals, "Hey Griere, you pretty enough to get mauled yet?"

Claia rises from her cot, a little unsure what to do. She spots Damon and walks over to his cot. "All set Damon?"

Torrez chuckles over at Joar, "that's really not very nice." He says with a laugh.

Griere slip the robe over her head, tugging it down about her thighs and giving those upswept curls a toss. "What do you think?" she asks Joar, flashing him a bright smile.

Apheri walks over to stand by Torrez, looking around at all the nervous faces.

Callyndra rolls her eyes at Joar but moves to stand quietly off to the side now that she's ready. Seear settles on the cot next to Skittish still humming.

Damon takes a deep breath, the nods and smiles Claia's way. "Guess so. Doesn't matter if not, though, they sure won't wait. You ready?" Though he takes a quick glance at the exchange between Joar and Griere, he doesn't comment on it.

Joar grins to Torrez, "It's not a hatching unless there's blood." he turns his attention to Griere, "Stunning, dahling. Well as stunning as a recycled white sack can get."

Mumble keeps his unsteady hum going, though he somehow manages to do it while curled up with his wing over his head. Well. He just can't decide which is more important. Sleep or hatching.

K'tdan clears his throat. "Okay, it is time to go now. Please stand here before me in your pairs. Come on now."

Torrez waves to Griere, and though he wasn't asked he gives her a thumbs up, " you're looking very good." And, "oh Joar, there wasn't much blood the last time we stood. Was there?" He shrugs, and then nudges at Apheri, "looks like this is it."

Ceryca casts a look towards her sister even as she is swept along by Raider's hand on her elbow, trying to catch Griere's eye to share a smile with the other girl.

Apheri nods as she clasps Torrez's hand in her own, giving it a squeeze.

Joar winks to Torrez, "So /clearly/ it was just a bad dream last time. I mean it put Kat on /bronze/." a laugh before he offers his arm to Griere, "Do me the honours m'lady?"

Claia chuckles softly at Joar's comment. "I'm as ready as I'm going to be." She smiles warmly at Damon. "Looks like it's time." She watches as K'tdan finishes his inspections.

Nettle grins at Joar and even adds her own opinion. "You look great, Griere." And, glancing around, "You all look great... Well, okay, you all look rather silly and nervous... or is that just me that looks that way?" She steps into line though, in behind Torrez and Apheri. "Heya."

Damon's quick to fall in line at K'tdan's order, offering his hand to his line-mate. "Here we go again. G'luck, Claia."

Catriona shuffles on over towards that bronzerider, tugging Arrhian along with her, and peers some more at his arm. Squint. Oh. Right. She twists to glance over her shoulder at Raider and Ceryca, and flashes them a bright grin.

Fidelis shuffles on over to stand near Kat. Alone. For the moment.

Brees grins over at Al'oren. "Ready to head down to the heat?" She asks heading over towards the stairs.

Arrhian is tugged into line beside Catriona, biting her lip - just as well really, without the tugs she's probably have stayed frozen to the spot. Despite the warmth of the quarters, she's shivering slightly.

Al'oren unfolds his arms from across his chest. "Of course," he says with a smile to Brees. "I'll have to admit this will be my first time on the sands in nearly fifteen turns, though."

K'tdan waves his good hand. "Let's go down the stairs, people. Now."

Griere slips her arm into Joar's even as she searches the room for her sister. She spots Ceryca, offering an encouraging smile and a hurried wave.

Claia settles into line and follows the others.

Torrez cranes his head back at Nettles, "when we get out there...want to stand with us too?" He moves closer to the exit, trying to prod the person before him into moving.

Ullan stands up and nods, ready to face the sands for the first time i his young life, joining the line.

Hatching Sands(#1296RJqs$)

The black sand of the Istan hatching grounds is quite famous, and it also sends a bit of darker air to the entire cavern, since it doesn't reflect light as well as the unusual sands of, say, Igen. Of course, the sand is not only warm, it's baking almost as if it's been in the sun all day, even when the Weyr is under a hurricane warning! The huge cavern arcs overhead, a volcanic bubble in black matte rock, while the tiers of the galleries provide seating for the spectators.

Besides the span of the galleries to the south, one can head over towards the entrance to the hatching grounds, or into one of the Queen's tunnels to the southeast and southwest.

The people here on the dark sands are Fidelis, Raider, Catriona, Apheri, Torrez, Arrhian, Damon, Callyndra, M'llon, Reye, and Ceryca.
Dragons scattered across the dark sand include Bromith, and Omfaleth.
Sandy Mound, and Glowbasket are lying around loose on the dark sand.
Obvious exits:
Dragon Ledges Main Entrance

The candidates file onto the sands in pairs, gathering to bow before Omfaleth and Bromith before being directed to approach the eggs in a wide semi-circle.

As the Candidates form their circle about the clutch, the eggs are already shuddering, shaking about as their occupants try to break free. The Storm-befouled Shipwreck Egg shivers violently, almost rolling half way over before cracks spring up from top to bottom and a bright blue dragonet jumps free. For a moment, he lands on his feet but then momentum proves too much and he goes tumbling into the sand nose-first. It's all too much! Struggling free, he looks up and up and up at Omfaleth with a helpless, piteous cry. Encouragement is received and then, finally, he moves towards the Candidates and wobbles straight past the first half dozen until barging into the legs of a sweet-faced lad from Ista Hold. "His name is Kavelth!" is announced joyfully by the new Weyrling, L'nen.

Brees grins over at Al'oren as she makes her way in and off to one side to wait for the first impression. "I think being on the sands is a lot more fun this way. Certainly less nerve-wracking than being a candidate." Soon the first impression is spotted, and the weyrlingmaster heads over to congratulate the pair and shepherd them off to food.

Cascading Forest of Kelp Egg wobbles and jerks, striations creeping over the shell.

Arrhian is clinging to Catriona's hand as if it is her only lifeline to sanity. Feet shuffle restlessly in the hot sand, the fingers of the other hand clench and unclench like the claws of an angry cat. Her eyes are huge in her small face as she stares fixedly at the eggs. She almost misses the first Impression, then her eyes flick to the new blue weyrling and a smile flits across her face.

Callyndra straightens up and squares her shoulders, glancing around to see if Fidelis is still nearby as she takes her place among the remaining candidates. She can't help but giggle at the blue who is in such a hurry, her smile widening to a grin as impression is made almost as fast as the little dragon hatched.

Joar nudges Griere, leaning down a bit to speak to her, "Blue off the top, I think Jar's lost marks already."

Apheri tugs Torrez with her as she moves over to their part of the semicircle, keeping her eyes open.

K'tdan counts quickly, making sure all of the candidates have arrived. He sighs, smiling. Now that the eggs are rocking, his job as candidate coordinator is over and now he moves towards Brees to take on his new role.

Al'oren gives Brees a nod as he follows her off to the side. "Indeed. I remember being so nervous back when I stood." He watches the candidates and grins as Brees moves to meet the newest pair of weyrlings.

Ullan watches the eggs and the first hatching, smiling, speaking softly to all who wish to hear near him "Isn't this just beautiful?"

Fidelis somehow ends up standing next to Callyndra in all the chaos. Though barefoot on the sands, he doesn't shift his feet even a bit. Too add to the surreality of his presence on the sands, he shows no expression at all. Just a blank stare.

Damon scoots into place, already shuffling a little bit, and wipes damp palms on his robe before offering his hand to Claia, again. "First one's away already. Too easy to forget how fast they go."

Claia sighs, "Beautiful..."

Torrez hoots loudly for L'nen and Kavelth. "He was in my workgroup! Well way to go for him!" He nudges Apheri, as though she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. "And a blue too, that's good luck right? OH, that's a bronze hatching first huh? Well..." he shrugs.

Catriona might have been jumpy and bouncy and more then a little comical back in the Barracks, but now that she's out here on the Sands, she's all business. She's watching out for the others too, large eyes taking everything in, chin tilted down slightly as if she's hunting. But no. Just uberfocused. She squeezes Arrhian's hand back, and smirks at the other girl. "Hang in there." Heh.

Apheri grins. "I think that little blue knowing what he wants is just as important and good-lucky."

K'tdan grins as he approaches Brees. "Reporting for duty, Weyrlingmaster. Should I go over there to make sure the meat and oil vats are ready?" he asks, waving his good hand towards that side of the sands.

Nettle is glad, now, of all the practice. She moves across the Sands. Not gracefully, to be sure, but easily enough. The dragons get another nod, but then the eggs have all her attention. Well, the eggs and the dragonets, "Aye, Apheri. Its nice that he knew what he wanted."

Claia takes Damon's hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, her eyes never leaving the rocking eggs.

Griere is still blinking at the first Impression. "I forgot how fast it all is," she says quietly to Joar. "I knew, but I forgot just the same." She leans forward a bit to glance towards Ceryca before turning her attention back to the eggs.

Cascading Forest of Kelp Egg shakes harder, the abrupt movements quite impatient enough to roll it over to reveal a crack running almost all the way round and spreading fast.

Raider looks a little taken aback as the first hatchling arrives so quickly. "Shards, how'm I supposed to look out for this horde if they move so fast." He walks out with Ceryca, and again steers himself over towards Catriona and Arrhian among the semi-circle.

Brees nods her head to K'tdan as she leads the first pair over. "Yep. And help L'nen here get his little guy fed, if you would. Just remember to make sure they're chewing."

Gleaming Black Pearl Egg shifts in the sands until it is on end. After a brief unmoving respite, the egg starts to slowly twist on the sands.

Ceryca's eyes follow that first hatchling and she lets out a breath as he Impresses, missing Griere's glance. "It'll just get crazier from here," she comments under her breath, but perhaps in response to Raider's words, following along towards the other girls.

K'tdan takes L'nen towards the other side of the sands. "Nice lifemate you have there, L'ren," he tells the lad, knowing the boy is hardly hearing him.

K'tdan walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
K'tdan has left.

Wobble, wobble, wobble: the Stripy Coral Reef Fish Egg shakes in effort until it tips over and smacks its neighbour, Washed-up Waterlogged Driftwood Egg, with a distinct *crack*. Two small greens explode from the mingled shards, one dark and one pale in hue and after disentangling themselves from each other with much hissing and screeching, they turn to the real business of the day. The pale green charges towards the Candidates, swerving at the last moment to fetch up against a tall girl from the lower caverns. "Maryth!" splutters Andala. "Of course I'm here!" Meanwhile, the dark green has been stumbling from one Candidate to another with a hesitant air. After many tumbles, she stops in front of a rather shy young man who was Searched from Nerat. "Oh yes, Caylarth!" exclaims F'rien.

Joar whoops in delight, "Oh he is in for /such/ a surprise when she first goes up!" he watches Caylarth and F'rien.

The Cascading Forest of Kelp Egg rocks once, and stops. It shudders again, and stops. Another break. And finally the strands of kelp almost seem to split along those vertical, wavy lines, making them look for a moment as though they were actually flowing, drifting with the current. But only for a moment; for then they're gone, broken into countless pieces in favour of the life they harboured.

Like a newborn human child, this dragonet looks chubby and roly-poly, however her figure is merely well rounded. Her hide is a chaotic vortex of green, dominated by the clash of two hues: deeply sinister hunter-green matched with serene foggy pine. It is a violent contest of swirls and eddies across her limbs and flanks, the potent mixture sweeping up to surge along her spine as breakers would crash upon a reef. A broad forehead and blunt muzzle is feathered with a touch of cloudy jade and quiet eddies ripple down her heavy throat, echoing the swirls of dark hunter along wingspars and bone. Pine stakes its claim on the 'sails, a misty touch pulling all the myriad hues together while unrelieved hunter hue envelope her tail; long for a dragonet, it twitches occasionally as though chained to a temperamental master.

M'llon watches proudly as L'ren and his new lifemate make their way off the sands, then turns just in time to see the pair of greens Impress. He leans over to speak again with Reye, but his words are lost in the general din.

Ullan just smiles at all that's going on, enjoying the miracle of hatching "They look so helpless..."

Apheri eyes Joar with a chuckle but that fades away as she gazes at that new dragonet. Ohh, how pretty that one is! "Tor, look at that round little green!"

Arrhian manages a smile back to Catriona, then her eyes snap back as another green is hatched. "She's beautiful," she whispers, almost to herself.

Reye smiles at M'llon's words, vivid blue eyes watching the quickly-forming chaos on the sands. She nods, returning his murmur with her own, and gestures toward the latest impressees.

Torrez winces, as though he expects the two young greens to hurt one another as they struggle to get free of the tangle. "Oh shards, that was a close one. Oh, that girl as a greenrider? Oh help us all." But he's smiling very wide.

Callyndra turns back to the eggs and watches them start rocking and moving. Just catching Joar's comment amidst the tumult of noise around her, she chuckles and shakes her head. "Ohh. She is perfect."

Fidelis simply lets his hands hang limply at his sides, his stare directed at nothing in particular. All the while his bare feet bake in the sand. He might not notice it now, but he's bound to notice it later.

Nettle tries to watch all the impressions at once, and ends up getting dizzy. Steadying herself by anchoring her hands to the sides of her robe and shifting her feet a bit further apart, she decides to watch just one dragonet at a time. For now, its a swirled little green. "C'mon, dragon. Find the one."

Temperamental Vortex Green Dragonet shakes off her prison with a yowl of distaste, scrambling forward to get away from the shards. Small feet slip and slide and spread out, leaving her spread-eagled on the hot sand with a distinct air of surprise, emphasized by a loud screech. This was not in the plan!

Gleaming Black Pearl Egg twists slowly until it comes to a quick, abrupt stop. After what seems to be a catching of breath, the egg topples over and slides meanderingly down the side of the mound only to be lost again from sight - black on black.

Damon's gaze drifts quickly over the newest Impressees, and halts at the newest green to arrive. "Shells. Pretty colors on her, huh?"

Joar wriggles around on the sands, "I think my usual sandals are better on sand than these ones." he bends over to poke at one lace, "Less sand in them." he notes to Griere.

Claia watches the beautiful green dragonet, "Oh, she's perfect...wonder who she'll head for?"

Raider's eyes skim over the new roly-poly green, his feet shifting uncomfortably already from the hot sands and absent sandals. Reye was right. "Good voice there, doesn't look too inclined to run anyone down either," the man approves. A twitch of movement catches his eye, but it's only the Black Pearl egg, and nothing with claws (yet).

Catriona's eyes flick to the black pearl egg, and she smiles to herself. Aw. It'll hatch soon, and she'll get to see what was in it. How nice. "She is," she agrees with her friend, and glances at Raider and Ceryca. Constant surveillance.

Ullan watches that dragonet too "Shouldn't we help that one out? I would hate to see one get hurt"

Ceryca's blue eyes flicks from one movement to another, in an attempt to keep an eye on everything. The yowl catches her attention and she looks towards the slipping green and winces, her eyes staying on that green for several long beats. "Oh," she murmurs, glancing towards Raider. "Or run," she says absently, catching Catriona's glance and giving her a smile before looking back to the prostrate green.

Griere attempts to tug Joar back up. "Forget the sandals and keep your eye open. You're too big for me to shove out of the way if a dragonet comes barreling for you."

Joar straightens, giving a flick of his hip towards Griere, "I dont think she that's flat on her face right now /could/ barrel."

Temperamental Vortex Green Dragonet picks herself up huffily, looking around with a sly expression as she considers the next step. Gaze snags on Omfaleth and she looks up before giving a quick toss of her head and advancing on the field of Candidates. No rivals nearby so she leisurely inspects the nearest boy before moving on to a group of girls.

Gleaming Black Pearl Egg loses one miniscule fragment of shell as a claw tip appears then disappears without giving clue to its inhabitant. The egg shudders again, one part bulges outward as its prisoner attempts to work its way out of its confinement. Another small shard on the bulging side falls to the wayside, disappearing into the blackness. With what seems to be a creaking sigh, the egg falls silent once again.

Callyndra is distracted by Joar's distraction with his feet. This reminds her about her own feet and she looks down, wriggling her toes in their new sandals. "Seems to be working for now." she mutters to herself. She looks back up to see the green dragonet start moving among the candidates and gets quiet again.

The Gleaming Black Pearl Egg is almost completely invisible upon the obsidian sands. Did Omfaleth have it buried again, even now? But no; there, it's moved. And there, it's caught the light; it shines as its occupant struggles to free itself, a series of sharp tat-tattats from within as those claws batter at the shell. First one piece breaks off, a foot showing through only to be withdrawn for another kick. That did it; and as the egg falls to pieces, the dragon within gains his bearings.

Warm brown and deep walnuts course over the hide of this young hatchling in simple lines that narrate the tale of swaying movements, shattering the uniformity of the hide. Enveloped in the warmth and depth of colours, each serpent-like movement made displays lean muscles, cunning and a handsome frame. The splattering of colours flow smoothly down his compact frame to meet in a handfasting of brown and mahogany at the tip of the long tail almost as if it is wrapped in a deep crimson sash. The hue mixture shimmers over his wing membranes from the leading to the trailing edges as the colours change from light to warm to dark browns giving the impression of one who is out and about without creature comforts. The wedge-shaped head is handsome, dark along the headnobs down toward the long neck with a splattering of mahogany around the crown which accents the black-brown outlining of the whirling eyes as if they are rimmed with kohl.

Griere rolls her eyes at Joar, "You know how fast those eggs crack. Just because one is down doesn't mean another can't hatch and flatten you in a heartbeat."

Apheri eyes that mahogany-brown for a long moment before her attention is back on the sands as a whole.

Torrez turns his head to follow the progress of the green. "She has the look about her that she might rush us." he murmurs to Apheri and squeezes her hand, "Did you see that crafty look in her eyes?" Maybe he imagined it.

Ullan is impressed at how that brown managed to get out of the egg, but keeps his eyes on the hatching.

Joar quirks a downright impish grin at Griere and strikes a super-hero pose, "S'okay.. I'm /fast/." His posturing's distracted by the brown hatching, "Now that's a handsome fellow."

Arrhian is shivering again despite the hot sands, but this is more like the nervous tremor of a runner at the start of a race. Her eyes flicker to the brown for a long moment, then back to the wandering green.

Raging Deep Sea Vent Egg wobbles from tip to tip, creating a spill of sand from underneath it that looks like a mini-avalanche. It wobbles a bit more, as though testing it's strength, then once again lies still.

It's like just any other day for Fidelis, except he isn't allowed to work right now. His blank stare has finally found something to settle on. The far wall. Or something beyond it.

Catriona has a free hand, see, and it's not doing anyone any good by just shaking like it is. So she uses it to help its mate in gripping Arrhian's own. "No matter how many Hatchings, it's still the same every time." Exciting. Nerve-wracking. All of the above. Deep breath. Shift of sandaled feet. We're doing alright.

Swaying Swashbuckling Burnished Brown Dragonet stands, staring forward in a intensely commanding gaze before he slides down the rest of the side of the mound on the large piece of shard he is still standing upon. As the shard stops, he lifts one leg a bit high and stiffly to step out onto the sands.

Damon shuffles his feet back and forth a bit, trying to find a comfortable spot to stand in the scorching hot sands, and having very little success. "Nice brown over there, pretty colors."

Apheri nods to Torrez. "I did. I've got my eye on her, she looks all sneaky!" She grins delightedly. "She looks like she's going to be a handful!"

Nettle glances up from the vortex'd green to grin at Torrez. "Aw, she wouldn't do that.. would she?" Nettle looks back, and beyonod her to the brown. "No, they're not sneaky. They're /wonderful/."

Shimmering Silvery Schools Egg shifts, sending a small shower of sand down it's sides like a wave receding from a breaker. Then grows still as stone once more.

Raider narrows his eyes at the newest brown. "Looks wobbly," he says, cautionary, to a young nervous lass off to Ceryca's side. But he is intrigued by the brown, his eyes sharp and canny as he looks it over. Something about it strikes him positively, and he reaches over to prod Catriona's arm. "That was your favorite egg, wasn't it? We should remember where the shards fell..."

Callyndra tries to point the brown dragon out to Fidelis but his stare didn't even twitch. "You should watch, you know." she half scolds as she waves a hand in front of his face. "Not too often you'll get to see this kind of thing up close."

Claia looks over at the brown dragonet and grins. He reminds her, for some reason, of her favorite runnerbeast...maybe it's the color. With yet another sigh, her eyes sweep over the hatching grounds coming to rest again on the vortex green.

Arrhian has now stopped watching both dragonets when the shimmering egg shifts in the sand. The same fixed gaze is now on that egg that was on her face in all the egg touchings.

Spasmodic shakes grip the Decay on the Frozen Wastes Egg until small pieces of shell finally begin to crack away. Slowly, slowly, it crumbles away until a brassy-hued bronze emerges with a debonair grace. A few quick steps and balancing proves harder than it looks: he slides to one side and a wingtip ploughs into the sand. With an indignant screech, he tries to step backward and only succeeds in tangling tail and legs. Above, Omfaleth croons reassuringly until he picks himself up and stubbornly heads forward, directly at the Candidates. He looks like walking over a girl in his path but the boy behind her steps sideways. Another moment and a blunt bronze nose is bumped against his chosen's belly. "Venollith!" comes the call from Pr'nor.

Griere nods in agreement to Joar. "That's a good looking brown. I like how he's sort of dark around the eyes," she muses.

Torrez grins and nods, "oh, she's wonderful." he says at Nettle, "aren't they all? But she can still be sneaky." He turns back to the hatching in progress, quickly taking note of the positions of the hatched dragons. "She's being careful about her choice too."

Catriona twitches in slight surprise, and looks up at Raider, smiling wistfully. "I know. I knew it'd hatch something wonderful." She jerks her chin at the brown, tilting her head as she admires him. Aw. "I'll definitely have to come get myself a shard later." Yep. Then, abruptly, she looks up at the Galleries, eyes narrowing as she tries to pick out her mother and father.

Fidelis blinks. Yes, he actually blinks. Hard not to with a hand waving in his face. But he relents. Really, he has to. His blank gaze reasserts itself, but this time to some point inside the clutch of eggs.

Swaying Swashbuckling Burnished Brown Dragonet spies the candidates, turning his head toward his sire and dam before glancing around again as if he is making sure no one knows exactly what he is up to. With that reassurance, he begins to move toward the candidates, his entire body moving in a swaying movement in response to something only he can hear but after paying some attention, it is realized that he is actually moving in a purposefully straight line.

Ceryca takes two deep breaths as her eyes move from the Vortex green to the Swashbuckling brown and she grins. "I like him," she decides immediately, though she doesn't look for long, intent on keeping an eye on everything, and her eyes slide back over the green and then over to the just-Impressed bronze.

Temperamental Vortex Green Dragonet rejects that gaggle of misfits, pausing to look carefully down the line. Someone is there, not too far but why march up to her? No indeed, she's going to do this the sneaky way: round behind the Candidates, circling in on a group of boys and girls, her gaze fixed on a tail of light blond hair. This green is almost ready to pounce.

Apheri giggles at the Burnished brown as he weaves and wobbles. "And that one thinks he's sneaky but isn't. Aren't they all just delightful?"

Ullan seems to become nervous now, very nervous. All those dragonets about, and having heard the tips from Raider... but he stands very still, confident that none of them would purposefully knock him over or worse.

Joar shuffles around, "Greens and browns and a bronze, oh my." he nods to Griere, "Wonder how the brown'll look if he doesnt get enough sleep, he's already got the dark around his eyes."

The Raging Deep Sea Vent Egg hasn't moved at all. All around it, eggs seem to be shivering, shuddering, making their presence known; but this one, nothing. But wait! Before one can even gesture toward that slight, testing wiggle the egg seems almost to explode outward in a flurry of shards; as though the occupant had found some hidden catch to make his exit easier.

Even as a hatchling, this young bronze shows strength and authority of purpose in his demeanor. Muscles joyously ripple across the young body as though unrolled like richest fabric atop his lean frame. Black talons reject the light shimmering down on them in a shiny obsidian reflection, bouncing sunshine back to the sky with no effort at all. Upwards from the talons his limbs are wrapped in layers of rich, luscious bronze that strongly resembles nubbly silk, though on the joints and ridges darker dapples shimmer in an almost glossy mahogany. In certain lights, these dapples gleam with an amber hue, casting an unusual brightness to him that might even beley his dam at times. As the color spreads to creep across the underside of his stomach and tail, it becomes a lighter, blended version of the bronze and amber-chestnut coloration with the distinct sheen of a metallic dragon. His wingsails glitter with the bronze and amber theme once again showing itself off in vivid translucent pools in the actual sails themselves, though they darken up again where the muscles and tendons are attached on his body to an unusual shade of bronze with dark, aged highlights along his flanks.

Raider points towards the earlier hatched bronze's impression, "Look that boy did right by his friend, dodged out of the way, let the dragon see him. Good on them." He laughs as something catches the corner of his eye in the stands, and he notes: "My folk are here. All of them. Shards, I hope Kaimi cooked enough..." A rueful quirk to his lips tugs as he looks over to Ceryca.

Damon squeezes Claia's hand briefly, craning his neck to see all that's going on. "Where'd that green go?" He's not observant enough to catch that the brown's moving in a straight line, and he's utterly distracted by the latest arrival. "Wow." Not particularly eloquent to begin with, the big man stays true to form with that one word.

Claia notices the new bronze dragonet, "Oh Damon, look at that just hatched bronze."

Callyndra is turning her head this way and that, trying to catch everything that's happening. She can't help but chuckle to see the brown. "It looks almost like he's dancing-" her voice breaks off and her eyes go wide when the bronze hatches out of one of the eggs she liked. "Oh my"

Nettle chuckles, accepting that. "Okay, okay. They can be sneaky." She tracks the little green's progress over the back of one shoulder, while still keeping one eye on the little brown and then the little bronze too. "But... oh my. It’s all happening so quickly."

Torrez nods to Apheri, turning his attention to the brown as Apheri points him out, "I like the look of him. Look at that tail and that head. I bet he's going to grow into a fine dragon. And not so much trouble as that green." he teases, "though I shouldn't say that too loud, wait...where did she go?"

The Temperamental Vortex Green Dragonet sets whirling eyes on her chosen, suddenly becoming very still within the chaos of the surrounding cavern.

Kailanith breaks her stalk for a moment to look suspiciously at clutchsibs intruding on her space. But now knows who she wants and so she pounces.

Ullan gives a glance to the galleries and verifies with absolute certainty... that nobody came to watch him. Instead, he watches the hatching unfold, a tad bit sad he has to do this alone the first time around.

Apheri nods to Torrez as she peers around, looking for that little green, too. She shrugs, not seeing it anywhere, and nods to Torrez. "And that bronze is a good looking one too!"

Shimmering Silvery Schools Egg shifts again, but this time with true purpose. Striations form and spread through out the shell as though delicate lattice work and yet it's stronger than it looks, for it still holds its form.

Catriona is still looking up into the galleries, scanning them. Sometimes you just have to know where your family is. Seems she spots them, miraculously, because a wide grin takes over her lips. "My sisters made it." Aw. She uncurls one hand's fingers from Arrhian's and wiggles them. Eyebrows furrow as she spots two redheads, also cheering, and she grins at them too, shaking her head.

Ceryca glances up at Raider and grins briefly. "Least it'll be easy to leave with them," she comments before looking around again. Having lost track of the green, she divides her gaze between the newest bronze and the brown. "Did you see where the..." her question to the candidate beside her goes unfinished her body stiffens and freezes for a moment. A pause of mere moments follows before she breathes out, turning to face the little green. "You scared the shells out of me, Kailanith," she says as she catches her breath, a laugh breaking free.

Griere's eyes go wide as she blinks at that green and at the face of her sister. "Ceryca," she murmurs breathlessly before letting out a very un-lady-like whoop. "Ceryca! Kailanith! Oh shells." Her gripe on Joar's arm tightens sharply with her excitement.

Damon spots the green, just as she Impresses, and he grins over at Claia. "Look!" He calls out a quick, "Congrats!" to Ceryca, watches the pair for a moment, then turns his attention back to those still roaming.

Al'oren grins as he watches one of the impressions made on the sands. "Excuse me," he says politely to Brees before he steps over in Ceryca and Kailanith's direction. "Congratulations, Ceryca and Kailanith. If you'll both follow me we can get some food for your lifemate." He motions in the direction that they should follow.

Swaying Swashbuckling Burnished Brown Dragonet starts to sway toward one end of the candidates when another dragonet cuts him off seemingly intentionally. As both seem to be heading toward the same small group of Candidates, they dodge, feint, and weave around each other almost as if they are in a duel for the ultimate treasure. The brown's whirling eyes seem to focus toward a Candidate with honeybrown hair but doesn't make his final move until the opportune moment.

Nettle can't help but break into a big grin herself, as Ceryca impresses. "Oh /good/. She found who she was looking for." She adds her congrats to the rest. "Go Ceryca and Kailanith!"

Crick, crack, creck? The Sea-froth Scampering Shipfish Egg is making a noise as it bulges and rocks determinedly. And it all gives way with a sharp *snap*, releasing a minty green dragonet who stumbles hastily away from her shell, looking back over her shoulder indignantly. Not watching where one is going is a dangerous occupation and she swiftly comes to grief by tripping over her own four feet and sitting down rather unexpectedly. Screech! This is -not- ok. Scrambling up, she makes a rush for the white-clad things she can see not so far away but her feet still won't co-operate so OOOF. Down she goes again, this time at the feet of a dainty little miss from the Healer Hall. "Oh Lyrriseth!" Lasana exclaims, gathering up her new lifemate adoringly. "Don't worry - I'm here!"

Arrhian laughs out loud for the first time since the humming began. "Ceryca! Oh, I'm so glad."

Apheri calls a congratulations out to Ceryca as she tries to keep her eyes on everything going on around her as she stands between Nettle and Torrez.

Ullan nods to Ceryca, smiling widely "Congratulations."

Torrez smiles at Ceryca's impressing, "Well that's where she got off to!" He nudges Apheri, though she's sure to have seen it just as clearly as he did, "well, it'll be very interesting to see how she grows up." He lifts his voice to shout after the pair, "Congratulations!"

Claia is jarred out of her admiration of the bronze hatchling and watches as her teammate Ceryca impresses. "Oh Ceryca...congratulations!"

Joar cheers for Ceryca, leaning in to Griere, "Didcha see. Ceryca and a green."

Brees nods her head to Al'oren grinning widely as she watches the new pair then turns her gaze back out on all the other new dragons on the sands giggling softly as she watches the antics of a green, who is promptly met by another assistant weyrlingmaster.

Volatile Amber-lit Bronze Dragonet sits back on his haunches and flutters his wings, seeking balance and coordination *before* he attempts to move four feet at once. Appearances must be maintained. He trumpets a soprano bleat as though to announce that he has arrived, and then gets carefully to his feet and stands there, swaying a little, eyes scanning the entire Ground back and forth.

Callyndra's smile turns into a wide grin. "Congrats Ceryca!" she calls out, clapping. Seeing another impression almost as quickly she calls out her congrats to Lasana as well.

Kailanith nuzzles at her Ceryca affectionately, looking up into those dark blue eyes like there is nothing else existing anywhere on Pern.

Ceryca lifts her eyes belated to Al'oren and nods mutely. Her eyes flick to Raider and Catriona, and then find Griere with an unwavering smile before she finally urges the green to follow Al'oren off the sands.

Catriona blinks. Ceryca? Her attention whips back to the goings on, and she /beams/ at the new weyrling. "Oh, Ceryca. I knew you'd do it." She bounces on the balls of her feet, as much out of excitement as it is an attempt to cool them. "She's gorgeous." Oh no. It always happens. First friend's Impression, every time. Those large eyes of hers seem darker suddenly. Tears are building. "It's so perfect."

Ceryca walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Ceryca has left.

Kailanith walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Kailanith has left.

Raider quickly steps away from Ceryca as the green Impresses to her, giving them space. "What was that about leaving?" He teases, looking about to burst at the seams. Though with that robe, he just might. He scoots over a bit towards Catriona and Arrhian, saying as he backs away from Ceryca: "Not the dregs.... Not at all." The announcement turns his eyes to the newer bronze, and brows raise. Taking good stock of the situation, that one. Good tactics.

Damon shakes his head. "Wow," he says again, looking over brown and bronze, then scoping out the rest of the rocking eggs.

Amorphous Corroding Metal Egg doesn't seem to want to move very much at first. It's a subtle thing, almost rustic. It rocks against a couple of other eggs once in awhile, but always seeming to bump into one more than the others.

Tap tap. Wriggle. Oomph! The Shimmering Silvery Schools Egg is tapped, wriggles and then rolls off a small mound of sand, landing with an audible -crunch- against another egg. Its sibling seems untouched; but this egg is certainly beyond repair. Good thing its owner doesn't seem to be needing it anymore. Those silvery shards fall away almost silver speck by silver speck, shook off by the dragon freeing herself within.

Al'oren leaves with Cercya and her new lifemate. He's gone for several minutes before returning to his spot near Brees. "Nice match," he comments to her upon his return.

The deep green of ocean depths washes over the hide of her svelte form, darkening around her dainty muzzle and headknobs. Refined in build, she's dappled faintly with the dancing highlights of aquamarine over her gently rounded belly and smooth shoulders, darker shades sinking down slender legs to delicate talons of rich salty green. Subtly elegant neckridges adorn her shapely neck, touched with hints of viridian to match the hues on her long, lissome tail. Graceful wingspars carry magnificent wings, sea foam hues reflecting emerald light are spangling translucent 'sails right to their fragile trailing edge where gossamer threads of pearl intertwine with a hint of seaweed.

Nettle nudges Apheri with her elbow, if she can. "I can't believe we're actually out here -- And look, another green. She didn't come from that horrid little blue egg, did she?" Nettle watches the deep-sea green with wide-eyes, and the dragonet beside her. "I've lost track of that nasty little blue egg."

Arrhian has not taken her eyes off the shimmering egg other then for a second when Ceryca Impressed, and as the green emerges she sighs slightly. "I /said/ that egg had a green in there. Knew it from the first day we were on the sands. And isn't she lovely?"

Swaying Swashbuckling Burnished Brown Dragonet emerges victorious from the movement duel, finding himself in front of a green-eyed and honeyed-tressed Candidate. Cocking his wedge-shaped head to one side roguishly, his gaze fixed steadily upon the Candidate though the same cannot be said for his undulating side-to-side body. His whirling eyes and involuntary forelimb movement belies his possible disbelief that he has found his "pearl".

Ullan hears Nettle speak of a horrid little blue egg and scans the clutch for it, thinking that has always been his lucky color.

"Oohhhhhhhhh!" Apheri exclaims delightedly as she gazes upon the Elegant Adventuresome green. "What a beauty that one is!"

Claia sharply takes her breathe in at the green dragonet's arrival.

The Swaying Swashbuckling Burnished Brown Dragonet stops swaying, for once. It seems he's found his chosen; and it's left him, well, rather stunned to tell by the looks of him. His whirling eyes settle on those of his lifemate, focus complete, absolute.

Griere is still just blinking after Ceryca and Kailanith. "Shells, Joar, did you see that?" she repeats, becoming a bit dangerously oblivious to the continuing chaos of the hatching.

Brees nods her head over at Al'oren. "It is a good pair. We've had several so far. This should be a good group to work with." She says bouncing lightly with barely contained excitement.

Torrez whistles, "that green looks like Cove hold in dragon form. Look at those wings. There's this place back home that we used to go rafting in, just like that, all shadows and greens." He shake some sand out of his shoe as he speaks.

Callyndra's eyes go from brown to bronze to green to. She stops and shakes her head to clear it. "Fidelis, isn't that bronze the perfect shade? And that green looks like she just walked out of the bay."

Joar scuffs around in the sand, "Of course I did Griere dear, I see everything." he snickers, bending again to pointlessly dig some sand out of his sandals, "I'd be better off barefoot."

Ullan note to Callyndra "They're all beautiful. Those colors... I wish I were a painter"

Damon's eyes go wide again upon spotting the latest hatchling. "Ohh...she's nice, too, isn't she? So many colors." Shaking black sand out of his sandals, he spares a quick look and a grin for Claia before looking back out to the dragonets.

Fidelis doesn't look, of course. He's busy. Busy staring at some spot within the clutch. This, of course, is nothing unusual for him. Someone could set his robe on fire and he wouldn't notice.

Catriona is still bouncing, small feet shifting about. The heat's as awful as ever. "Can you imagine being barefoot?" she asks, then looks down at Raider's... bare feet. "Oh." Hm. Wait. What's this? Her eyes unfocus, and she turns very slowly to /stare/ at /him/. Him. "Zevalyth?" One tear slips down her cheek, and as her hands leave Arrhian's, one goes to her tummy, while the other goes to her Zevalyth's canted head. "Oh." More tears come, and she buries her face against the neck of her new lifemate, oblivious of the heat on her knees.

M'llon watches with an ever present smile as more pairs make there way off the sand and more dragonets brake free of their shells. Every now and then pointing out someone he thinks Reye might have missed in the shuffle.

Nettle is almost as spellbound, but grins around at Torrez. "I bet she's a good swimmer too, that one." Then she squeaks softly, rather rodent like, and claps her hand together with glee as the little brown chooses. "Shards and shells, I'd have never guessed! Hurray for you! Hurray for Zevalyth! Hurray for Catriona!"

Elegant Adventuresome Green Dragonet makes her grand entrance into the world with a poised air that no hatchling should ever poses. But that image shatters as quickly as her egg did when she squirms at the icky feel of egg goo and silvery shards sliding down her hide. At least she can breath easy now however, with gaining her freedom from that oh so confining egg. Now then what's there to see in this new place to explore?

Arrhian releases Catriona's hand with a smile, her trembling at last stopped. "Oh Cat. He's perfect." She watches her friend find her lifemate and blinks back one tear - a happy one.

Callyndra nods, turning to Ullan. "They are. And everything seems to be going so much faster this time."

Apheri smiles and claps for Catti, beaming. "Whoo, Catti! He's a beaut!" She grins over at Torrez and Nettle. "It's all going so /fast!/"

"Heard you say it in the stands, and you've watched over a fine lady at that." Raider agrees to Arrhian, backing away as the brown approaches the girl next to him. No need to call out warnings of this one, his intentions are honorable, and he'll not debate the brown's claim. "Miss Catti, looks like my folk are losing another nimble pair of hands." The candidate goes against his own warnings of vigilance to sketch a bow to the new pair. "Zevalyth," he acknowledges. One companion left. Raider beckons Ullan to come join them, still watching out for the boy.

Brees grins wider if possible as she hears Catriona and steps forward. "I've got this one." She makes her way over to the new brownrider and dragon. "Congratulations, Catriona. He's beautiful. And I bet he's hungry, too. We've got plenty of food if the two of you want to come with me."

Ullan agrees with that "Catriona and Zevalyth... Their lives are going to be so special now"

Damon mouths the name of Catriona's new lifemate, brow furrowed. "Nice name, that. Congrats, Catriona!" He calls it out, regardless of whether she'd be able to hear him.

Griere is in the midst of telling Joar, "Just take them off then," when Catriona's impression distracts her, "Oh Catriona. She impressed!" She gives Joar a tug and points his attention towards the new brown pair.

Zevalyth's swaying returns after his lifemate's wonderful greeting. However the mention of food does grab his attention and he nudges his lifemate before twitching his head in Brees' direction.

Arrhian steps back slightly to move beside Raider, and is now watching the green again. "She's so alive - how did she ever sleep so still in that egg for so long?" The comment is almost to herself.

Claia grins and calls out to her teammate, "Congratulations Catriona!". She looks at the other candidates left wondering briefly who will be next.

Catriona sniffs, and pulls away to look up at Brees. Familiar Brees. Oh good. "He is." Her hand presses firmer against her middle. "Very." And it's at the urgings of Weyrlingmaster and new lifemate that she gets to her feet, and with a hand on Zevalyth at all times, she nods and makes to follow Brees. To food. She just grins goofily at everyone, unable to voice anything, eyes wet.

The Captive Clinging Spiderclaw Egg gives a sudden, hard shake before splitting neatly from top to bottom for its occupant to scramble out. A hefty looking tan brown shakes himself irritably, marching forward a step to find an egg in his way. A good shove with his nose lets him past but sends the Underneath It All Egg crashing into the Sunlit Shallows Egg, shattering them both. Deep midnight blue is mixed up with a warm lime green and for a moment, there is three dragonets in the same too-small patch of sand. The brown is the first to escape, hightailing it all the way across the sands to present himself to a stocky brown-haired boy from the Smithcraft. "Odonth!" T'yel announces in wonder. By that time, the blue and the green have both made their way to the ring of Candidates, trotting next to each other amicably all the way to a pair of sisters. The blue selects the youngest, "Yes I'm your Zera, Kaminath!" A moment later, Zona exclaims "Kintareth!" over the green.

Callyndra says "Congratulations Catriona!" she bounces a bit herself. She shoves the wisps of hair back off her face before adding to Ullan and Fidelis "Wish I could paint accurately too. Especially the impressions."

Volatile Amber-lit Bronze Dragonet takes one careful step, then another, until finally he quickly gets the hang of movement. So quickly, in fact, that as he bears down on those intriguing white-and-pink things off in the distance, two young Harpercraft girls are forced to drop each others hands and scramble out of his way as he comes down to the wriggling things in white that are making noise. He eyes a tall lad from Fort carefully, but then snorts in his face and continues on. This one is not the one for him.

Torrez hoots and claps for the impression with Zevalyth and Catriona and beams, "And that is a nice, strong name too! Wonderful. And can you imagine any dragon that wouldn't get well used to swimming around here?"

Zevalyth walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Zevalyth has left.

Catriona walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Catriona has left.

Joar looks up to Griere, "Take them off? Then I'll lose them, and Jar'll want an inventory or something." he looks after the brown and Catriona, "Good for her!"

Amorphous Corroding Metal Egg keeps up its taptaptap against its neighbor, as if that neighbor were in its way. The tapping is almost polite, clearly not trying to damage itself or that neighbor, but still bound and determined to get past. While it's wobbling about so, the egg shifts its position as the sand moves under it. It even rolls completely around as the hatchling within tries to break free.

Ullan moves to stand by Raider, smiling "This is so very special... no matter what happens, there will be a lifetime of stories to tell about this moment alone"... and catches the movement of the egg out of the corner of his eye, regarding it closely now.

Damon, seeing the two Harper girls move out of the bronze's way, tenses a bit, as if ready to side-step, too, if it's necessary. "Hard to keep track of 'em all," he mumbles.

Nettle refuses to discriminate against dragons she can't impress, so urges the little bronze forwards too -- though he hardly seems to need it. "C'mon little Lordling, find your lifemate... you can do it, you can!" After all, he didn't come the nasty little egg neither.

Reye's pale brows arch faintly at that snort from the bronze dragonet; and she turns to murmur in a low voice to M'llon, gesturing toward Omfaleth. Whatever she said earns her a snort of her own from her lifemate. Hey.

"Stories, stories I can do," Raider responds to Ullan, thinking he should tell the kid about Fide's painting skill, but a bit distracted as he watches the charging bronze. Relief smoothes a furrow across his brow as the two harpers split. "Good girls," he rumbles, and then flashes a brash smile at Arrhian, "I can sympathize, being stuck in one Weyr for this long was enough for me. An egg? Shells, I'd be out the grounds soon as I had a lifemate by my side." He winks at her.

Elegant Adventuresome Green Dragonet looks about her, taking in the bold new surroundings of where she's landed. She holds her head up high and her tail free of the sand while making her way clear of the remaining eggs. Ah now, what adventure could this be? White things? She moves decisively towards to inspect them and satisfy her curiosity.

Callyndra looks over her shoulder into the galleries, seeing a few faces she recognized, but one in particular. She nudges Fidelis. "Auntie Grimm is watching." she tells him quietly.

Claia, with her attention focused back on the elegant green dragonet, "I can't even breathe right now Damon, much less keep track of more than one dragonet at a time." She gives herself a shake to try and relax.

Fidelis ermphs. Well, it's a response. A sign of life. Auntie Grimm? After this is over, he won't have to worry about her again. Nope.

Apheri picks up her feet a bit, noticing just /how/ warm the sand is getting. "Check out that metally-lookin, one, Tor, Nettle. Can eggs be polite? I think that one is!"

Griere lets out an exasperated sigh, "So hold them Joar. You're gonna get us both shredded; you standing here fretting over your sandals and me trying to make you pay attention. Just because I don't want to leave the sands with a lifemate doesn't mean I don't want to leave the sands at all..."

Ullan muses "You write the stories, I'll try to paint a bit, and we make an exhibition out of it?"

Eggs are moving everywhere; but now the Amorphous Corroding Metal Egg shimmies in place, piece by corroded piece coming off as its occupant fights for release. Suddenly he's free; and those shards fall about him, sticking to belly and tail.

Darkness envelops this dragon like the midnight tide upon Ista's black beaches; and, veiled in shadow, in low light he could be very nearly mistaken for black. But the slightest hint of illumination sparks a blaze of shimmering metallic glory, spilling fire to light the darkly aged bronze to a rich, shimmering tone. Along his joints and ridges that dusky, cloaked bronze seems to brighten naturally, as though polished there to a high, rich sheen; and that same polish shows in the elegant lines of his muzzle and exquisite contours of head and neck, the mix of glossy metals making his passionate eyes seem all the larger. Along his wingsails, the bright bronze punctuates the dark, like constellations across the night sky. His tail, long and sinuous, is a swirling mix of the two bronzes; a metallic neap tide. For all his stunning appearance he's compactly built; even for a bronze he's not large, created rather with economical, athletic precision. That potent fire may be packed into a smaller than usual package, but that cocky attitude and dramatic passion is evident yet in his constantly expressive, powerful bearing.

Arrhian chuckles slightly to Raider, eyes still on the green. "Has the wanderlust been very strong then? You could have made a run for it at any time, you know." Eyes flicker for an instant to the new bronze, and then back to the green again.

Nettle glances, where pointed, "I don't ever remember touching that one", she says with a tilted head. "But it’s very pretty. What do you think, Apheri. Another brown or bronze?" There, see, He answered her. "Oh, a bronze. And a darkling one at that." Her eyes glow, reflected back the dragonets shadows. "Oh my."

Joar grins to Griere, "We'll be fine… relax!" he's full of optimism, "Oooh, another bronze, have I missed all the blues?" he looks around the sands, "Need more cute blue riders to be disappointed."

Damon's grin is fleeting, but he nods his agreement with Claia. "Me either. Told you it was exciting, didn't we? Ohh... wow. 'Nother bronze, look at him. Bet he's a strong one."

Ancient Northern Ocean Egg begins to move, very slightly, little tremors from within causing its shell to shiver in a barely-visible fashion. This subtle movement continues for a few moments before the egg gives a sudden, full-blown rock before going completely still just as abruptly.

Ullan watches the Bronze hatch and is captivated by the creature "Dark as night without a star, a vision of beauty from afar, slowly does the creature stray, tell me will it come my way?"

Torrez loks at Apheri in puzzlement, "eggs being polite? What do you mean?" He sweeps the sands, looking for the egg that Apheri is talking about and then his eyes trail over the stands as he hears someone talk about family being there. Well, good luck finding anyone he knows there though.

Apheri shakes her head. "Never mind, never mind. Look at the bronze that came out of it, Torrez!" she grins. "Bronzes are so pretty, it's a sharding shame I don't even get a chance at one cuz I'm a girl."

Nettle tries not to laugh at Ullan, biting her lower lip and grinning across at him. "No fair, using poetry on them, Ullan. What happens with we poor mortals who have no gift for words?" And, to Apheri, "They're too big, those bronze. Give me a green or blue any day."

Torrez does indeed spot Nadia and his eyes widen, he tugs at Apheri's hand and points towards the sands were the greenrider is waving. Oh, but he is on the sands and there are dragons milling around and it's not really safe to get so distracted. "Hm? Bronze? Ah yes." He winks, pretending he's really not all that interested, even though he watches the young bronze with great interest.

Callyndra smiles softly, shaking her head as she listens to the nervous, excited, happy chatter around her. "Poetry?" she asks Ullan, not longer quite as distracted by Auntie Grimm as she had been.

A strange creaking sound emanates from the Deepest Depths Sea-Dweller Egg as it slowly rocks back and forth. All of a sudden, the shell gives way and a turquoise-hued blue tumbles out onto his back. He doesn't move for a moment and Omfaleth nudges him sympathetically. Thus encouraged, he struggles gamely to his feet and starts off on his search. It's a long trek: he circles the sands once, twice, thrice before stopping again, looking completely lost. Once again, he is nudged by his dam and trudges on, wandering amongst the Candidates until he catches sight (or scent) of someone who was surely hiding from him before. Terribly anxious, he blunders past a cluster of weyrbred girls and boys and collapses into the arms of one of the smallest Candidates on the sands. "Oh Gevionth." K'tay says, almost in tears. "I'll never hide from you, I promise!"

Volatile Amber-lit Bronze Dragonet suddenly swings his head around, cocked to an angle as though he is listening. What was that? He flares his wings, and takes a tentative step, and another. With a definate goal now in mind, he gains speed and races across the sands to the one he heard, over there somewhere. Blocked, suddenly, by a group of candidates standing between him and his lifemate-to-be, the young bronze hatchling paces briefly, making a decision, then glares at the group of candidates and barrels right through them, heading straight for Joar. A number of candidates go sprawling, the ones that couldn't get out of the way fast enough

Ullan blinks a few times "Was I reciting poetry?". He watches the bronze go off and smiles "Looks like that one is chasing happiness"

Raider manages to tear his eyes from looking out for charging hatchlings again. "Should get Fide to help," he notes tersely to Ullan, still distracted but determined to speak up for his teammate's hidden talents. Arrhian too gets a spot of his attention, though as the candidates dissappear off to the side, things aren't so smooth. "Aye, I have, but I stick with the paths I take. I said I'd stand, and here I stand." A firm nod and a brash smile affirm this, even if his standing is a bit shifty from the heat. And then the bronze barrels through the candidates, and Raider curses himself. "Shardit, I wasn't watching!" The big red-headed man takes a step, looking to see if the ones ran-through are alright.

Volatile Amber-lit Bronze Dragonet finally stops in front of a heavily built young man with a darker complexion. You. Oh yes.

Claia lifts her eyes from the green dragonet to focus on the newly hatched bronze. She tilts her head to the right, admiration clearly etched on her face. "He looks like he'd be able to fight thread forever...oh look a blue just impressed!"

Joar wasnt watching one little bit for that bronze, going sprawling in the hot sand as a talon to the leg encourages him outta the way, "Owww!" is the somewhat sand-muffled yelp from the startled candidate.

Griere blinks at that bronze heading straight for Joar and thereby, herself. A rather improper word escapes her lips as she attempts to pull Joar off to the side. "Where's he think he's going?" she grumbles and then she realizes that Joar's been hurt. "Oh shells, are you alright?"

Ancient Northern Ocean Egg is all at once moving again, picking up where it left off - wobbling back and forth in a determined manner. Thin cracks spread and widen across the shell, a few fragments falling off from the force of the young dragon inside.

Elegant Adventuresome Green Dragonet might have looked the part of a lady a moment before, but that image shatters once again, for now she screeches at what she sees. How -dare- he be so inconsiderate! She was looking at those white things. She rushes after her bronze sibling, over to where the white things have fallen under his on slot. No wait, she screams out once more. Maybe there is more to her reason for her hasty reaction.

Ullan was about to head over to Joar to help, but stands firm. Partly because more dragonets are walking around and he might make things worse, partly because that interesting blue egg is moving again...

The Elegant Adventuresome Green Dragonet focuses her swiftly-whirling gaze on that of her chosen; and a light, joyous croon escapes her muzzle.

Suave Cloaked Bronze Dragonet has finally got past that egg, casting a glance back at it, dipping his chin briefly, or else he just overbalanced for a moment. Then, his whirling eyes take in the sights around him, almost as if he were sizing them up. When he's ready, got his plans in place, he begins his march forward. While others in the clutch may stumble about, any stumbling he does is planned to give him some advantage. He doesn't emulate his fellow bronze. He's got too much courtesy even now. The darkness of his hide is helping to mask him from some views, as he melds into the shadows.

Damon shakes his head wonderingly. "Can't see half of 'em, they go by so fast. Which one, Claia, he went to the littlest? Good looking blue, that one." As the bronze starts to bolt, he freezes, once more ready to move himself out of the way, if that turns out to be necessary.

Brees heads over towards the aftermath of bronze at a trot checking on the candidates. "Are you alright?" She asks skidding to a stop in the sand.

Callyndra starts when the bronze just shoves his way through one group of candidates and heads for another. She shoves her hair back again, the wisps beginning to form damp tendrils. She takes a single step to one side, not sure whether to check on her fellow candidate or not when the green dragon screeching so loudly distracts her.

Torrez hisses in concern, wincing back a bit in sympathy for the scratch, "that didn't look good but...is he ok?" He cranes his head back and forth, trying to get a good look. "Poor Joar..."

The Volatile Amber-lit Bronze Dragonet is an imposing presence; and suddenly he's an imposing presence right in front of his chosen. His eyes slow their whirling, his world closing in on one solitary individual.

Claia looks down at Joar, ready to assist him if needed.

Arrhian also is looking across at Joar, worry creasing her face. "Shardit, is he all right?"

Joar wriggles to sit up a bit in the sand, looking first to the blood down his leg, "Not quite..." and then he's turned to look up at the screaming green, "Xaenyth! Yes.. I'm fine..." Jh'or scrambles to his feet, any leg pain or blood utterly forgotten.

The Ancient Northern Ocean Egg is like a burst of cool in an otherwise impossibly hot cavern. But it can't last; because those wriggles are bound to crack that icy surface soon. One crack zigzags its way up the edge, dark black talons just visible around the edge, prying. Another crack; more talons, as though the occupant within is holding on for dear life. And then too many cracks to count; the egg crumbles in the dragonet's grasp, leaving him in a pile of his own shards.

Sleek and streamlined, this dragonet looks ready to cut through any any ocean's depth, any sandscape of Ista's black beaches, or the endless lofty abyss of clear blue sky. He is a gradient of blues, the palest of which break upon the underside of his wingspars like the most tempestuous of frothy whitecaps breaking upon the shore. Each elegant sweep of those sails continue that mimicry, moving with an almost liquid, languid grace while that pale shade deepens in steadily-darkening rivulets as they arc toward his ridges. There, he's a stormcloud hovering; for that heavy grey-blue dominates down his spine, adding depth to those mesmerising, liquid-like tones that flow softly over him. As he moves the light sends trickery along his hide; and it almost seems those tones blend in a mesmerising fashion, flowing atop muscles and sinew. Only his eyes balance that predator's grey; those large and oh-so canny.

Nettle is, thankfully, fast on her feet and steps away from the barrelling bronze as he makes for the other Candidate. "Oo... Joar!", she says, worried, at first, and then oh-so-happily. "You did it! You did!" She grins at'm, even knowing he'll likely never remember. "Oh Joar, she's beautiful!"

Damon shifts rather uncomfortably in the sands, trying at first to look over Joar's way, but distracted by...something. He presses his free hand up against his stomach for a moment, then both hands--including that one holding Claia's--drops. "Alzaeth?" he whispers wonderingly. "Yes...hungry, I can tell!"

Ullan smiles "Congratulations Joar!" but watches that egg finally hatch, the blue dragonet captivating his attention "Look at that... it's like... a thunderstorm rolling in back home... One painting isn't enough for that one"

Apheri lets out a whoop as she sees Joar, and then Damon, Impress. Her eyes are torn away almost as quickly by that latest blue dragonet, though, that one that looks like a storm cloud.

Brees is close by so she takes the couple of steps towards Jh'or. "Congratulations! Why don't you two come with me, and we'll get get some food for her and something to stop that bleeding for you. I'm sure she's hungry."

Griere eyes the green dragonet that come sniffing around, "He's hurt," she scolds, backing up another step. "Oh, Oh Joar," The realization sets in. "Joar! Xaenyth! Oh she's perfect!" She barely has time to notice that Damon's impressed too.

Sleek Trickster Storm's Blue Dragonet looks around, momentarily disorientated and stunned by the world he's just emerged into. But he's quick to collect his wits, half-spreading his damp wings and uttering an excited bugle. What a place to explore! What's this? He lowers his head to prod at the shards of his former home, whuffling in surprise as the black sand clings to his muzzle. How strange! Experimentally he snaps at it as well, snorting and growling in irritation as he ends up with a mouth full of sand.

Raider raises his voice slightly, though its clear the weyrlingmaster staff will take charge of the situation, he's can't help habit. "Hoy! Look to the eggs and hatchlings you lot! If you're busy watching them, you might get in the way yourself!" Then, seeing Joar moving and - Comforting the green? - his posture relaxes. "Damon better keep that one reigned in," he notes sternly, but quietly. Don't want to say such things at Impression.

Arrhian glances from green, to bronze, to green again, and then a huge smile splits her face as two of her friends Impress at once. "Joar! And Damon!"

Dreams of Ocean Diamonds Egg gives a slight, small shudder. A testing of the confines.

Nettle is tracking the little bronzes, too, and then, "And Damon! Oh its all so wonderful... and fast." She watches the chosen pair off and polishes her palms on the rough of her robe. "Oh goodness. And aw, another blue." Nettle likes blue dragons, its only kicking blue eggs she's averse too. "Poor little sandy-ting."

Jh'or isnt feeling any pain, even if he is limping as he and Xaenyth make their somewhat slow way off the sands, "Food sounds great."

D'mon rests a big hand on the little bronze's head and, after a few breaths to try and collect himself, nods and starts after Brees. "C'mon, this way--there's food over here."

Jh'or walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Jh'or has left.

Callyndra laughs and claps her hands. "Guess I'll have to find a new boss in the Sandbar." she teases. "Congrats Jh'or and D'mon!" she calls to both, bouncing on her toes again.

Claia , feeling Damon let go of her hand, turns to the big man to ask him a question and see him impress the bronze. "Congratulations Damon!" She moves out of the way to give the pair some more room.

Xaenyth is no so easily reassured as she croons still more to her chosen lifemate. For she sticks close to his side as she follows.

Al'oren moves from his spot and approaches D'mon and his new lifemate. "D'mon, if you two will follow me we'll get you some food for your lifemate." He motions in the direction he wants them to go.

Alzaeth swings his head around to shove his chosen gently.

Brees walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Brees has left.

D'mon walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
D'mon has left.

Torrez nods his head, smiling warmly, "oh shards, that's wonderful!" He nuges at Apheri again, all this nudging is going to earn him a something worse in return, "I'm so glad that Jh'or impressed! And, it doesn't look like he's too badly hurt." And he spots D'mon with his lifemate, "Oh, and Da...ah, D'mon! What was his dragon's name?"

The Brilliant Calypso Bay Egg shudders and groans, hairline cracks webbing its surface until, with a sudden *CRACK*, it shatters, spraying shards over the sands and leaving a lanky cinnamon-hued brown blinking in surprise. First things first: the brown spreads his wings and inspects them gravely. Next his toes and talons. Then he attempts to turn round and look at his tail. However, his tail follows him and he turns round on the spot twice before stopping, puzzled over why he can't catch up to it. He tries again but before he's gotten round very far, that mass of white-clad things catches his attention and he stares, gaze fixed on one particular one of the white clad things. Giving up on the tail checking, he marches solemnly all the way to Resenio's side. "His name is Halith!" R'nio announces gleefully.

Xaenyth walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Xaenyth has left.

Apheri just /beams/ as she watches all the goings-on, nudging Torrez. "You're gonna give me a black and blue side, Tor." she teases. "Resenio got a brown? Pft. Hope that little brown can keep a damper on his ego."

Dreams of Ocean Diamonds Egg shudders again. Omfaleth gives the egg a slight nudge before withdrawing, and black sand begins to slide from that mound before the egg turns in place, wobbling with the effort of the young queen within.

Fidelis wriggles his toes a little bit. Okay. Bare feet in the hatching sands is a bit much even for him. He may have finally gotten used to this horrible Ista climate, but he'd have to spend a lot of time on hot sand to handle this. Yes, Fidelis has his limits and they're beginning to show.

The Sinuous Sienna Seahorse Egg is huddled close to the Swirling Whirling Whirlpool Egg and both of them have only been rocking gently. Well and good for starters, but something more needs to be done: one gives a good shake and wobbles violently, accidentally clouting the other and causing both of them to disintegrate into a pile of shards with their occupants sitting there, startled at their abrupt release. A solid pea-hued green from the Sinuous Sienna Seahorse Egg and a dappled emerald green from the Swirling Whirling Whirlpool Egg, both moving in nearly identical ways. Each one shakes off bits of egg goo, stands up and daintily advances on the Candidates. Indeed, they both converge on a carrot-haired boy from Bitra whose frightened expression turns to elation when the emerald green nudges her sister out of the way and presses up against him. "She's called Avirath!" is called proudly by D'mor. Pipped at the post, the pea-green moves off in a huff, only to collide with an energetic young man from Crom. "Janirth!" L'thag exclaims. "You'll hurt yourself if you don't look where you're going!"

Nettle fights yet another laugh, "Apheri!", and watches the infamous Resenio and his new little lifemate. "Oh, he'll be all right, they will." And, with another nudge of her elbow, "Looks like there's what-nots happening with the gold egg, too. And where'd that little blue get to?" Nevermind the night-black bronze.

Raider's jaw drops. "Ceryca is going to have a fit," he notes calmly at Resenio's impression, and turns to Arrhian and Ullan with his lips curled back in a fiercely amused expression. "Hope her green can outfly his brown when the time comes." One leg lifts, wiping the hot black sands off his foot against the other leg, and trying to give it a moment's respite. No sandals.

Suave Cloaked Bronze Dragonet lifts his head when a voice rings out over the sounds of the hatching. Plans are shifted, the young bronze almost sinuously slipping out of those concealing shadows. First one girl is avoided, then the exploding shell of another dragonet's hatching. Bravery is fine in its place, he apparently thinks as he risks a run from one shadow into the open to the next one. He clearly prefers to use his wits instead. Only his red eyes give him away as he pauses in the last shadow he can find before reaching more of the male candidates. Not even his tailtip twitches as he waits in silence, his head shifting as he regards each one in turn, trying to pick out the one he'd heard.

Ullan looks at Raider's feet "Want my sandals? With or without them, it's too hot in here for me anyway"

Arrhian laughs. "I never saw Ceryca on a green, actually - but the dragon's never wrong." She seems a little lost now the silver flashed egg has hatched and Impressed, as though not quite sure where to look.

Sleek Trickster Storm's Blue Dragonet shakes his head in an attempt to dislodge the sand stuck to his face, still making annoyed sounds of distaste. Looking around the sands for something else to amuse him - that's hopefully less irritating too - he lights on the Candidates. Maybe he can bury them in the black stuff! Enthused by this new idea the blue lets out another somewhat shrill bugle and begins to stride only a little clumsily across the hatching grounds towards the Candidates, keeping his tail up and inspecting them as he goes. Too tall, too wide, -way- too tall. There's got to be a good one in their somewhere.

Nettle bounces up and down on her toes and tries to look 'Just Right'?

Alzaeth walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Alzaeth has left.

Apheri watches that storm-cloud blue very carefully. She knows how island storms can move and wreak havoc, quicker than anything. That's one to keep an eye on, for sure.

The Frantic Feeding Frenzy Egg starts moving, sliding out of its depression in the sand and rolling over and over before colliding with a trio of siblings. A fraught minute later, four dragonets flee the massive collection of shards: A large dusky green from the Frantic Feeding Frenzy Egg, a peacock blue from the Lost Island Egg, a smaller cyan blue from the Capricious Colourful Clownfish Egg and from the Boring Brownish Beige Egg, the smallest green of all. The two blues are going in opposite directions but both choose Istan weyrbred boys: I'ven calls out "Fandileth!" after being anxiously claimed by the peacock-hued blue while S'zan announces the cyan blue as "Yarmeth!" In the interim, a commotion begins in the midst of a group of girls before the dainty little Jilona from the Healers emerges beside the dusky green, proudly announcing her lifemate to be "Tarimath!" Minutes pass and then, the tiny little green who has been discretely investigating who is available all but pounces on Orranon. "Zoriath?" O'non utters in disbelief.

Ullan knows storms and watches the blue, intrigued "If they'd let me, maybe I could wipe that sand off... it seems to be bothering him"

Zenith peeks out from beside Raider. "Oh gosh, a blue!" Quieting himself, he shakes the sand out of his flip-flop, or tries to rather, and continues to watch in silence, just scratching his head in a sort of reserved awe.

Griere is starting to notice that she doesn't have Joar's arm anymore. No friendly distraction about sandals. No one to mumble to. She looks around a bit warily and she must not know what to do with herself from the way she keeps shifting around on the sands.

Callyndra's eyes go from one hatchling to the next to the next impressing pair to the next hatchling. She looks for that other bronze too. "I know I saw another bronze hatch, didn't I?" she asks Ullan. "Did I miss his impression?" But she's distracted by the blue dragonet and smiles. "I'm a bit partial to blue." she admits to no one in particular.

Claia smiles as she watches her fellow candidates and the dragonets size each other up. She feels relaxed now and offers congratulations to Orranon, who has just impressed a green dragonet.

Arrhian shifts a step closer to Griere, offering her hand to the other girl. "Oh, shards and shells, Orranon got a green? Well, he's so big, all the bets were that he would get the smallest green in the clutch - I guess they were right."

Raider glances back to where Zenith has been lurking, and offers an encouragement to the younger boy hiding. "Yes, blue. You can see right better out to the side here." Raider then turns to Ullan, shaking his head and raising a hand in a gesture to hold back. "Never be big enough, I'll live without." Not that the shifting from foot to foot indicates much pleasure with the matter.

Sleek Trickster Storm's Blue Dragonet goes a little quicker now with a bit more agitation, ever gnawing and increasing hunger fueling his movements. Maybe he can get some food after the burying deal too. Or before, even better. But first The One must be found. The One who isn't too tall or too short or too anything really and who would look all right up to his neck in sand, or at least help him bury someone else. Like maybe -that- lad over there. The blue zeros in on a grey-eyed boy of average height, nudging a small pile of sand towards his feet with his nose. Play with me?

Nettle finds herself within a few arm lengths of Griere and offers a quirky-sided smile. She nods once, then twice, then one third time for good measure. "G'luck. Griere." And, given their earlier conversations, "I mean it. Be strong. Be you."

The Sleek Trickster Storm's Blue Dragonet pauses; yes... yes, he's found him. His one. His whirling gaze slows, settling to focus on his chosen.

Suave Cloaked Bronze Dragonet waits almost statue-like until the voice, that deep and powerful voice, is heard again. This time, he fairly slithers out of the last shadow, heading for that candidate that's one of the largest of the bunch. That one looks a bit ruddy, the calloused hands of a worker. There are no stumbles to him now as he presents himself to the candidate with a beard and moss-green eyes who's holding his hand up.

The Suave Cloaked Bronze Dragonet has found his match; he suddenly holds himself completely still, locking his whirling crystalline gaze with that of his chosen.

Glimmers of gold flash off the Dreams of Ocean Diamonds Egg as it too begins to wobble in earnest; one knock can faintly be heard against its shell, followed by another; and bit by bit those ocean's diamonds fall away, adding bright points of light to the dark Istan sands.

Palest gold tones flow in flaxen creams and ivories over silken hide, blending with dawn's softest rosy hues to wrap a petite dragonet in faint pastel tones that slide effortlessly over her neatly proportioned form. Daintiness marks her wedge-shaped head, narrow muzzle, bright eyes and smoothly curved eyeridges, all conveying a sense of youthful dignity. Her neck is slender, ridges low and wide in their stately row to where shoulders flow into wide wings with spars touched by topaz and subtly shimmering 'sails dusted with the barest hint of silver and ruby. With narrow flanks and a deep chest, her belly is gently rounded, willowy legs are a little long and solid paws with small, sharp talons are almost elegant. Lean haunches are marked by traces of warmer primrose, her ridges continuing their line down her tail, brushed by faint marbling right to the neatly forked tip.

Ullan blinks and kneels down, looking into the eyes of the blue "Ohalith? Is that you?". His head moves along with the dragonet's, and smiles "It is you!". A large smile now... he has a lifemate.

Claia realizes that relaxation has caused the unfortuneate side effect of noticing the hot sand beneath her feet. Even though she is wearing sandals, she begins to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot to get some relief.

Brees walks over from the far end of the Hatching Cavern.
Brees has arrived.

Torrez tilts his head down towards Apheri and murmurs, "Sorry for all the nudging." He murmurs at her and smiles, "But I just can't resist you know." He catches the spark of gold from the corner of his eye and smiles, "wow, look at that." another nudge goes to Apheri despite his plea for forgiveness.

Lilac and Lime Lost Toy Egg jerks a little in the black grains of the hatching sands then again and again as its occupant taps on the interior. The egg soon starts shivering more violently and rocks back and forth more rhythmically.

Al'oren approaches U'lan and his new lifemate. "Congratulations, weyrling. If you and your lifemate would follow me." He points where he wants the two to go.

Ohalith rumbles happily, butting his head against his newly found lifemate, though the rumble quickly degrades into a creel as he follows U'lan. So hungry.

Apheri just happens to be looking over in the right direction as the Gold cracks shell. She's rendered speechless at the sight of that pretty lady, not even hearing Torrez's apology.

U'lan stands slowly and nods to the blue "Yes, I'm a bit hungry too. So let's go and eat"

U'lan walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
U'lan has left.

Ohalith walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Ohalith has left.

Griere squeezes Arrhian's hand briefly and flashes her an uneasy smile before letting go. Nettle, unfortunately, does not get a smile, just a sidelong glare. But thankfully, her glance it broken by the next impressions. "Oh, U'lan and a blue. And the bronze, who did he pick?"

Zenith timidly scuttles further out onto the sands, grinning slightly as U'lan walks off the sands and out of the cavern with his newly found lifemate. "Congratulations Ullan!

Arrhian is also looking puzzled. "Has that bronze found anyone yet...oh...." her voice trails away as the gold hatches, and for once in her life she's quiet.

The rest of the candidates will just have to fend for themselves. Raider, all of a sudden, has other plans. Keen eyes completely and utterly fail to see the gold hatch, and in fact, momentarily seem to lose track of which direction is up. Raider wobbles slightly, and then spreads his legs in a more solid stance as he looks at the bronze hatchling in front of him. Gulp. "Heh... I like that too Djarith. A'ley." He doesn't look away from the bronze, asking instead in an even more assured tone: "Where's the food?"

Ocean's Dawn Rose Gold Dragonet pulls herself from the remains of her shell, giving small, delicate flicks of tail and wings. Clinging bits. That's not right. Seemingly unconcerned, she merely rids herself of those errant pieces and finishes in a long, languid stretch. Everything in her own time

Nettle missed the glare and glances from side to side, blue and bronze. "Oh my." Obviously this is Nettle's phrase of the day. "Oh Ullan! Oh Ohalith!", and, on the other side, "Oh Raider -- A'ley! And Djarith! Hurray!" She refuses to discrinimate against dragons she does not want to impress, too, and encourages the tiny rose-petal'd queen as well. "You waited long enough, little gold. C'mon, there's not too many good choices left." Ahem.

Callyndra steps closer to Fidelis as her friends impress. "Congratulations Ullan, Raider" she calls to them. She bites her lip as her attention returns to her Reaches friend and his shifting. Her feet are a bit smaller than his though and the sandals wouldn't do him much good.

Ocean's Dawn Rose Gold Dragonet pulls herself from the remains of her shell, giving small, delicate flicks of tail and wings. Clinging bits. That's not right. Seemingly unconcerned, she merely rids herself of those errant pieces and finishes in a long, languid stretch. Everything in her own time, everything as it should be. That narrow muzzle lifts, intelligent gaze settling calmly on the white-robed figures beyond as the light plays attractively over her pale pinkish-gold hide. Surely a posture like that can't be accident. There's a presence to her that demands attention despite her lack of movement. She doesn't seem one to stride off without a hint of direction like some of her siblings. No, each candidate receives that crystalline whirling gaze, first.

Brees makes her way back over wiping her hand off on her pants with disregard for the fact that she's smeared a bit of someone else's blood there. She spots Raider's impression and heads over. "Congratulations. The food's this way if you'll just follow me."

Djarith rumbles rather fondly, and then his eyes finally leave his lifemate and he follows his nose. Once he's turned in the right direction, not having moved away from A'ley's side, he looks up again.

The Lilac and Lime Lost Toy Egg rolls as the dragonet inside struggles to get out; most eggs around it have hatched now, so where it would have smucked up against other eggs it just crunches against their shards. A shiver, another, and the colours seem to separate; lilac from lime, tone from tone, until a small dragonet is left in their wake.

Claia smiles and offers congratulations to the newly matched pairs, while still shifting her feet.

Brees walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Brees has left.

Nearly uniform in color, this dragon's green hide is the color of a calm lagoon, a light sea green so unusual surely no other dragon shares in its hue. Nary a variation changes the hue of its hide as the graceful dragon moves, tip of tail matching throat, foreclaws matching hindclaws. The only shift comes when the wings are extended and her wingsails show themselves to be nearly translucent, lightening to the point of being almost white, especially in the gleam of the moonslight. The other hint of non-uniformity comes from the splotch of copper-green crowning her head, working in a diamond pattern. Her eyes are ever curious, ever looking here and there for that which always seems to draw her attention.

Arrhian is smiling again as Raider Impresses. "Well, he'll have to contain the wanderlust for another two Turns now - but I doubt he'll mind." Her eyes go back to the small rose queen and the shivers are back.

A'ley's face reddens beyond his usual color, beyond the flush of hot sands, and beyond the joy of impression to add a little extra color for embarassement. One whole section of the galleries is full of cheering red-headed traders. He quickly follows Djarith's nose and Brees' directions. Meat.

A'ley walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
A'ley has left.

Zenith is there to steady Raider, as he wobbles. "Congrats, buddy! Watch your footing now." Takes in the blissful look that Raider shares with his new lifemate. A very good match... Certain to be one of the best. Smiling, Zen pats Raider on the back.

Djarith walks down to the far end of the Cavern.
Djarith has left.

Torrez falls silent as he watches the gold, distracted for the moment but he hears Raider's happy cry, "Congratulations!" Oh, it seems he missed someone impressing but...too many things going on to keep track of.

Nettle shifts from foot to foot, meeting the gaze of any dragonet that glances her way -- well, okay, not the gold’s. For that she's examined the burnt-tips of her toes in the ends of her sandals. But a passing little blue gets a sigh, as does the late-hatching moonlight green. "Where'd all the eggs /go/?", she half-whines to those left near her.

Fidelis keeps his blank stare on the rapidly shrinking clutch, shifting his feet from time to time. Maybe they'll stay hot for a while when he returns to 'Reaches. That'd be nice.

Apheri notes that the Gold seems to be taking her sweet time, and therefore looks around a little bit more. She grins as she spies that unusual-colored green! "Tor, Nettle! Isn't that little green pretty? And what a sweet color!"

Griere can't help but notice the gold as Ullan and Raider head off the sands. "She's..." but Griere just trails off, tipping her head to the side as she watches the gold pass her gaze across the remaining candidates.

Omfaleth gives her daughters an encouraging croon, flame-bright muzzle coming down to just brush the pale shimmering shoulder of one, then the elegant sea green neck of the other. Go on, you.

Torrez grins at Nettle and smiles, "That's the nature of eggs. I'll be sharding happy to get off these hot sands though." He admires the green that Apheri points out. "She's a little outshinned by her clutchsibbling though."

Apheri shrugs as she looks at Torrez. "She's a Green, it's not her fault she had to hatch right after the Gold did!"

Claia , who has been admiring the gold dragonet, hears Apheri mention a green dragonet and smiles warmly at it.

Arrhian glances from gold to green and back again. "They make a lovely pair, actually. Dawn and moonrise."

Callyndra turns back around and sees the gold hatchling. "Oh!" and the green hatches in the next instant. "Oh she's perfect!" Cally repeats herself yet again as she watches the green. "That perfect shade of the water."

Inquisitive Sea's Dusk Green Dragonet doesn't even give a peep of protest as she emerges from the broken shards of her shell, and indeed, she peers about with wide, quickly whirling eyes. The green hatchling starts to step eagerly from her shell, but her attention is immediately shared by a glinting bit of the lime-colored part of a shard. She lowers her head to nose at it, pushing the glistening piece a few handspans across the sand.

Ocean's Dawn Rose Gold Dragonet glances up at her dam at that light touch, returning the croon with a light, melodic churr that seems to match her magical appearance. Her limbs test, first. A step, another, and she's quick to gain confidence, starting off the sands toward a clustered group of candidates. Those glittering wings catch the light as she moves, held carefully to her back. The feminine lines to her slender frame and those delicate movements betray a lady... but the straightforward manner to her tell of a deeper nature, too. Not to mention the shameless way she investigates the Candidates! One boy is sniffed at, prodded at with her muzzle before rejected. A girl is nudged this way, that, then given a short chuff before she moves down the line. Not here... not here... but -somewhere-. Hers is close.

Zenith nods at Arrhian's comment. Musing slightly over her words, he smiles. "I had never really thought about it that way." Admiring the lovely coloring of the green hatchling, Zen scratches the stubble that’s the result of forgetting to shave in the morning.

Nettle agrees with the crowd, it’s easiest. "They're all beautiful -- in a newborn can't-find-my-feet-what-are-my-wings-for? kinda way. I didn't think they'd be so... gooey." Still, there's nothing but a sort of sustained excitement in the Candidate. That and what sweat she had has long since been expired and dried along her robe. "C'mon little dragons, yous can do it."

Torrez turns his head and eyes the stands for a moment, wiggling his fingers up at the lady rider that he knows is up there. Only a little time left to dodge hatchlings afterall.

Inquisitive Sea's Dusk Green Dragonet starts to walk a little faster, so entranced by the new game of push the shell that she accidentally pushes it too far under the black sand of the hatching grounds. The hatchling stops short and hovers over the spot where she had last seen the shell but can't seem to find it again. She gives a little shake as if to say 'Oh well' then raises her head and looks around. The flapping white material of a candidate gown is the next thing to attract her, and she lumbers awkwardly nearer to an extremely shy girl who just stands still with her eyes squeezed shut as the young green sniffs eagerly at the robe.

Arrhian gives a half smile to Nettle. "You didn't think they'd be so gooey?" Eyes go back to the two hatchlings again. Another shiver.

Griere leans in towards Arrhian, "Part of me didn't think it would actually be a gold," she murmurs. "I thought it just had to be a bronze or something, but..." It's true, she doesn't notice that green much, no matter how pretty she is.

Callyndra glances down at her feet. She shifts slightly as the heat of the sands finally reaches them and turns them toasty hot instead of just very warm. She shoves her damp hair back off her face and looks back up, eyes going from the green, to the gold, back to the green as they both start to inspect the candidates. Her lips twitch into a smile as she watches.

Ocean's Dawn Rose Gold Dragonet stops by Nettle just as she says that gooey comment and casts her a narrowed look from a good, oh, handspan from her nose. Gooey? The slender infant queen gives a small snort, then turns her head to rub a bit of that lingering egg goo on the candidate's robe before moving down along the line, body shimmering in pale pink-golds and ivories with the light. She seems content enough to linger in her search, except... except... her need grows greater. Where -is- she? Her movements become quicker, clumsy for all her slender appearance lends her a thought of grace. And she pauses midstep, gaze locking with that of a girl with plump curls. That pause doesn't last long... she pushes between two people, a light creel escaping her throat in her urgency to reach her Chosen.

Your awareness suddenly seems to shrink to a tiny, tiny little spot. You could focus your entire world, it seems, on the head of a pin. The galleries are no more; neither are the candidates who were by your sides. All seems dark, quiet, as though there were none in the world but you... and -her-. For that small gold dragonet is before you, and she's looking at you with eyes more beautiful than any you've ever seen. And the joy that seeps through from that hatchling, the jubilation that washes over you in titanic waves is enough to dispel any doubt you ever had about dragonkind, all in one second. << Griere, >> you hear that soft, tentative voice; there's warmth in that voice, a slight sparkle of love, strength and faint amusement. << Griere, come back to me. Here you are! I am your Aerianth. We are together! >>

The Ocean's Dawn Rose Gold Dragonet comes to a stop. Everything stops; she holds herself motionless, wings draped over the black sand, her gaze settling on that of her chosen.

Inquisitive Sea's Dusk Green Dragonet glances quickly to the side, her head whipping around to follow a passing vtol, the candidate robe immediately forgotten. She gives an excited little screech and hops after the insect, but it soon flies out of sight. The baby green gives a pitious little croon and swings her head back and forth as she searches for it.

The Sullen Silver Squid Egg gives a little shake and then rocks steadily, shuddering as large segments of shell slide off. Eventually, a dark coffee-coloured brown tumbles onto the sand, shaking himself clean of shards with quick, elegant movements. Vaguely respectable looking, he ambles cautiously towards the humans with a brief pause to look up at the Stands. But new-hatched feet don't work quite right yet and half way to his goal, he tumbles, falling forward with wings stretched out and letting out an indignant squawk just to be sure everyone is aware of his predicament. Watching him from nearby, Shaira steps forward, meaning to help but stops short when warned off by one of the others. However, the brown turns his gaze on Shaira and, near frantic when she stops, staggers back onto feet to plunge in her direction. Girl and dragonet go down in a heap, a shriek of surprise and pain swiftly cut off by a tearful yell of "Nadalth!" As the pair get to their feet, Shaira's limping and Nadalth is shaky from worry.

M'llon has been quieter than usual this hatching, but then what is there to say with so much to see? His sees all or at least many of the choices and new pairs made, but the young gold's choice catches his gaze next.

Claia , her feet burning quite a bit now, moves to stand next to Griere and the others. She keeps her eyes shifting from the green to the gold dragonets.

Nettle manages to shrug into a cheerfully ignorant sort of grin to Arrhian "Yuh. Or so... " she looks at the last of the little dragonets and comes nose to nose with the tiny queen for a moment. Her eyes widen, her heart stops, and she finds herself shaking her head as the little gold gets her gooey and moves along. Tears come unbidden to her eyes. "Sharding stupid little thing..."

Apheri chuckles. "That little green can't impress to a vtol, she'd better look again!" She keeps an eye on the Sea-green, though.

Torrez offers Nettle a soft smile, understanding in his eyes and then he has to look away, not really sure what to say to offer any comfort.

Swaying wearily, the Forgotten Fisher's Net Egg is gradually crumbling until a small olive green nose emerges, swiftly followed by the rest of the dragonet as her shell finally lets go of her. Graceless, the plump new hatchling waddles inelegantly across the sands to investigate who is on offer. A pair of boys eye her with trepidation as she heads their way and manage to step apart just in time for her to go between them. A slender blond girl is considered carefully but no, she turns away disdainfully. Another three Candidates are sniffed and then rejected before she stops before a girl from Lemos. For a long moment, girl and dragonet stare at one another before Jessia bursts into tears. "Rhezarath, you're beautiful!"

Nettle saw it, though, before it was gone and manages a somewhat wobbly sort of smile of thanks. She folds her arms, feeling somehow skinnier and smaller than she ever did before; a waif in sheep's white, unwanted even by the wolves. She stands, arms folded, and waits.

Griere is just about to glance off towards the galleries, but her eyes don't get a chance to focus. Instead she turns back to that hatchling, blinking over an over again so that each time she opens her eyes the beautiful golden dawn shines again in her sight. "Aerianth," she whispers. "Aerianth," letting the name roll off her tongue. "We -are- together." It doesn't matter is that young dragon is still moist with egg goo or that Griere is wearing white, the two meet, the girl's arms wrapping around the golden neck in a reverent embrace.

Inquisitive Sea's Dusk Green Dragonet eventually seems resigned to the loss of her little friend and she gives a little huff and takes a moment to look more closely at the larger figures of the candidates standing around. The little green brightens and starts to heard toward a particular brunette.

The Inquisitive Sea's Dusk Green Dragonet has found her lifemate at last; and she lets out a low creel, whirling gaze looking imploringly into that of her chosen.

Zenith gasps as Griere embraces that magnificent golden creature. "Congrats Griere! I'm so happy for you!" He doesn't really expect her to hear him, having just met her lifemate and all, but he is genuinely happy for her.

Callyndra watches the eggs dwindle as more dragons hatch, smiling and calling her congrats to the newly impressed weyrlings, "Oh Griere! Congrats!" she beams as she watches that impression. She shifts from foot to foot as the heat of the sands makes them feel like they're starting to cook.

Aerianth rests her muzzle against Griere's shoulder, goo and all. It's elegant goo. A lightly reassuring churring sounds in her throat, constant and melodic.

Arrhian watches Griere go to the gold with a smile crossing her face. "Oh Grie."

Al'oren has a smile on his face as he moves towards the newest weyrwoman pairing. "Griere, if you and Aerianth you like to follow me we can get her some food."

Torrez smiles widely as Griere and her golden lifemate come together, "well, it certainly makes me feel good seeing the two people I stood with last clutch here impressed this time. I guess there's something to be said for that 'your lifemate just wasn't here this time' thing."

Dragon> Aerianth bespoke you with << I am hungry, very hungry. >> You can feel it in your own tummy. << Is there food? You are well. You -feel- well. I am very pleased with you. >>

Nettle mutters something she can't put in print, but watches Griere's impression out of the corner of her eye. "What is, is what should be", she says to herself, again. Breathe in, breathe out. And, with a surprisingly please smile, "Congrats, Griere. Aerianth. You train her up good." Though whether Nettle is begging that of the Weyrling or the dragonet remains unclear.

Claia smiles as she watches Griere impress the gold dragonet and is about to offer congratulations, when her attention shifts to the green dragonet. "Me..., " her voice incredulous, " you want me Typsyth?" Tears are now streaming down her face, as she gazes lovingly at her lifemate. "Why of course you're hungry!" She tries to wipe the tears away, "Of course we'll get you something to eat straight away."

Griere looks up at Al'oren and it takes a moment for her to recognize him. "Oh, oh right. Aerianth," she pulls away from the dragonet, but a hand stays on that elegantly gooey hide, "We should get you some food." She barely watches Al'oren as she follows him, her eyes are just plastered on her lifemate in complete awe.

Arrhian glances across with another smile. "And Claia!"

You walk to the far end of the Hatching Cavern.

Aerianth walks to one side of the Cavern, towards you.
Aerianth has arrived.

Corner of the Hatching Sands
The far corner of the Hatching Sands a quiet spot away from the chaos of the hatching Clutch. Several Istan riders await there to assist the new weyrling pairs as they Impress, and there seems to be a goodly quantity of food and oil, as well. You can 'look/out here'.

Brees blinks in suprise when she sees Griere enter with the gold then smiles over. "Congratulations, Griere. What's her name?" Brees gestures towards the barrels of chopped meat. "There's food right over here. Just make sure she chews it, alright?"

K'tdan approaches Griere and Aerianth. "You realize, of course, 'Rath will be insufferable," he tells her goodnaturedly. "Congratulations."

Claia walks to one side of the Cavern, towards you.
Claia has arrived.

Typsyth walks to one side of the Cavern, towards you.
Typsyth has arrived.

A'ley gets taken aback all over again. He hasn't done a thing but stand there on the sands, and without any sandals even! And Djarith still trusts him implicitly. Man better get over the jawdrop, there's that twitching muscle to deal with. "Why's it doing that?" He checks, brows furrowing with concern at the bronze. Dragons aren't his specialty. Yet.

Aerianth follows Griere in, utter adoration showing in her gaze as she follows along. She needs some help of course... she's as awkward as the others at this age, but she looks like she's spending as much time helping her lifemate as her lifemate is helping her. A soft creel escapes her throat as hunger makes itself plain.

D'mon caresses that spot on Alzaeth's eyeridge, drowsily shifting his attention between lifemate and others, his eyes going wide when he spots Griere's entry. "Oh...Congratulations, Griere," he says, but it's barely louder than a breath. Then comes Claia's entrance, and he beams a smile her way, too. Then, his attention's all for Alzaeth once more.

K'tdan slides over to Claia and Typsyth, smiling still. "Congratulations, Claia. The vats of meat are over there. The oil vats and paddles are there once she's eaten."

Jh'or is full of oil, so's Xaenyth too. He does whooop upon spotting Griere and Aerianth, "Griere, dahling!"

Ceryca doesn't look up when Griere walks over, she doesn't even seem to notice the murmurs around. It's not until she hears Jh'or, that she looks up and her eyes go wide and her jaw drops ever so slightly.

Alzaeth suddenly snaps awake again, bugling again in a small soprano tone. He gets to his feet, and flutters his wing, looking around uncertainly.

Brees grins over at A'ley. "He just needs oil. It's itchy, I'm guessing. There's plenty over there and paddles if you want to put it on that way."

Xaenyth keeps her concerned gave on her lifemate, but does indeed seem to be enjoying her, well, oil bath.

D'mon looks a bit startled at Alzaeth's sudden movement, but he's just as swiftly awake, himself. "What? What is it?"

"Itch..." A'ley immediatly stands, looking towards an oil vat, remembering this from his firelizard's own infancy. "Oil will fix that, let me get some," he assures, moving towards a vat. A glance goes to see if the bronze will stay or follow, and just to make sure he doesn't dissapear while he's not looking. Hands go to scoop out oil, ignoring the paddles.

Claia grins at K'tdan. "Thank you...she's very hungry." Gazing adoringly at her lifemate, she moves to a quiet spot to feed her beautiful dragonet.

Xaenyth keeps her concerned /gaze/ on her lifemate, too.

Typsyth stops to gawk at the other young dragons, seeming to notice that others have hatched too on this day, but most of her attention remains on her new lifemate and the promise of food She croons anxiously and butts her head a little into Claia before following her.

D'mon leans back again, relaxing a bit, and nods toward some of the others. "They're our friends. That's Griere over there, and that's Claia," he notes the two newest who've arrived. "There's Raider, too, cept his name's got to be different now. Friends."

Djarith doesn't seem to be willing to leave A'ley just yet, so he hauls himself to his feet gracefully and pads after him to where the oil is. He's curious about this oil thing as well. When A'ley scoops out the oil, he immediately presents the itchy spot, that angle between his shoulder and his wing. He also folds the wing neatly so that it doesn't get in the way and clobber A'ley like one of the others did to Jh'or earlier.

D'mon watches with a small, affectionate smile as Alzaeth wanders away.

Jh'or leans on Xaenyth, mindless of the fact that he's now getting an oil bath too, "Did I miss anywhere sweetlove?"

A'ley realizes belatedly that having two hands holding scooped oil rather limits the use of his limbs in actually spreading the oil around. But that doesn't daunt the former trader. He parts his hands from eachother slowly, letting the excess oil drizzle onto Djarith's hide from the itchy spot down his back, and then back up the other side to the bronze head. Then oily hands start rubbing it in properly, starting with the itchy shoulder. "Much oblidged," he notes in a pleased rumble at the folding wing.

Claia grins at her lifemate, nearly overcome with love, "I think I prefer my meat cooked a little more love, but thank you anyway. " She chuckles as she sits down with a bowl of meat next her. She offers the hungry dragonet some of the meat and sighs contently as Typsyth eats.

K'tdan moves here and there, assisting as he can for the newly impressed pairs. Although a little tired, he keeps up trying to be helpful. "Good group, Weyrlingmaster," he says to Brees.

Griere is rather speechless and you'd better all enjoy it while you can. "Aerianth. Her name's Aerianth," she says dreamily, aware of Brees just enough to answer her question and head towards that meat. By the time she looks to K'tdan she's a little more coherent, but apparently what he says takes some processing. "Rath? Oh, Faorath. Yes. Well, he had to be right eventually." Her eyes then seek out Jh'or and Ceryca beaming at them both with a somewhat triumphant smile. But she turns back to Aerianth quickly, as though she can't wait to give the little gold her full attention again. "Meat. Um, here's the meat," she reaches for a hunk of animal flesh and offers it to Aerianth and doesn't even care when the bloody juices run down her hand!

Brees nods her head as she glances around at all of them with a proud smile. "It is. They'll do well."

Djarith immediately lets out a sigh of relief, and then as A'ley continues the rubdown, he moves to make the job easier. His sinuous grace is evident even as he balances with one foreleg in the air to better allow his lifemate to work on his belly.

Xaenyth just croons softly in reply, bringing her head in close as she does. It seems she is content, for now.

Jh'or murmurs softly to Xaenyth, "I'll rest a little now, you rest love." he leans on the green some, partially for the closeness and partially to get some balance without standing on his bandaged leg.

Brees glances over. "The Weyrleaders will be coming in to talk to them and then we'll move to the barracks for the night and get the dragons settled somewhere they can sleep."

"Shells, you're not as wobbly as the rest," A'ley says with a laugh as Djarith balances so well, and obligingly moves his oil rub to the newly exposed belly. "I hope Catriona's brown grows out of it a bit."

Ceryca's hands resume their briefly interrupted work, running gently over Kailanith's soft hide. At Brees' comment, she glances up, and then back at the already sleeping green, and then back to the Weyrlingmaster.

D'mon has disconnected.

A'ley's eyes are softer than anyone's likely seen them before as he oils Djarith, hunkering down again to increase his proximity to the hatchling. His hands move with practice, like oiling leather goods, but even a Trader would never take such pleasure in the tactile closeness the red-head is enjoying.

Reye walks to one side of the Cavern, towards you.
Reye has arrived.

Djarith doesn't find this at all odd. He's a careful one when he moves, and he keeps track of his balance at all times, learning immediately how not to look like a fool in public.

Reye finally makes it over to the corner of the sands, pale white-gold hair swept back from her tanned features as she looks around at the group. Her steps take her to Brees' side, and she murmurs softly to the Weyrlingmaster.

Claia watches with a small, affectionate smile as Typsyth wanders away.

Brees gives the Weyrwoman a proper salute then nods her head with a smile. "Yes, Ma'am." She says softly then adds. "Can you send a healer to the barracks after we're done here?"

Jh'or leans on Xaenyth, who leans on him. Xaenyth provides oil, Joar's not currently bleeding, but the bandage Brees put on isn’t looking it's pristine best.

K'tdan smiles as he sees Reye, offering her a salute that echoes Brees' before resuming helping Claia feed Typsyth.

A'ley couldn't be happier for it. Once upon a time, he'd worried the Hatching would end up embarrassing him in front of his folk, but nothing about this strikes him as even possible to embarrass. The bronze is just melting away concerns he'd had. New ones will come soon enough, but in the meantime, he hasn't even noticed Reye. His voice is low as he speaks to Djarith: "You're brilliant. You made me like my name again."

Djarith immediately cocks his head to the side, not quite noticing the entrance of Omfaleth's rider. The expression on his young draconic face can only be described as curious.

Claia turns her head and smiles when Typsyth wanders near.

"That I can," Reye says to Brees with an answering salute, giving a look to Jh'or for a moment. "You doing alright?" Her smile lights on K'tdan as he greets her, ocean-blue gaze flittering over all the dragons and weyrlings. "I won't keep you all long; I know you're busy getting to know your new lifemates. I wanted to take a moment to congratulate each of you. Your dragons look incredible; Omfaleth keeps telling me how strong they are." The slender Weyrwoman gives a wink for that; it's easy to guess Omfaleth tells her that about all her young. "You are extremely lucky to have the Weyrling team that you do. Brees is a very experienced Weyrlingmaster; you'll do very well in her care."

Jh'or nods to Reye, "I could go for some numbweed."

Catriona had been nearly asleep, over in her corner with Zevalyth. He's all that matters, and she was so focused on him there that as he started up with the drowsiness, she couldn't help but be affected too. But Reye's words rouse her, and she blinks lazily, her hand resting lovingly on her lifemate's head. She says nothing. She knows he's perfect. But she listens, that much is obvious.

Griere continues offering the young queen chunks of meat, watching every bite carefully. "Slowly, dear. Take your time," she whispers to her lifemate. She does manage to drag her attention away and look to Reye are the Weyrwoman speaks.

K'tdan walks over to the main part of the Hatching Cavern.
K'tdan has left.

Brees smiles over at the Weyrwoman. "Thank you very much, Reye. Now, let's get those dragons off to bed. There will be more food and oil in the barracks for those who need it still. Please try to wake your dragons if they're asleep. Otherwise you will be carrying them back to the barracks. Unless you have anything else, Ma'am?" She asks Reye formally. See the good example?

A'ley can't help but answer his lifemate's question before giving Reye his attention. Not disrespect, just slightly skewed priorities. "Of course it's A'ley," he assures Djarith. "But people used to say it like 'Audley', and I thought it was a right miserable name to give a kid..." Then Reye's words register. "I'll tell you about it later," he assures the bronze, and looks up to the Weyrwoman, trying to figure out if he missed anything important in his distraction.

Djarith continues looking up at A'ley, but when his lifemate defers the explanation until later, he returns his gaze to Omfaleth's rider.

Reye shakes her head, answering Brees with a smile. "No, that's all from me. Good luck, Weyrlings. The next two turns will be eventful ones indeed. Pay attention to Brees and, hey, you might just get out of it in one piece." That's said with humour laced through her voice, but there -is- a serious side to it, of course. The Weyrwoman moves to talk with Brees for a moment, then rejoins M'llon.

Jh'or nudges Xaenyth, "Awake please sweetie, I don’t think I can carry you right now."

Ceryca looks from Kailanith to Reye and her back straightens, chin lifting as her features take on a proud expression. Her rounded green continues to sleep heavily, and Ceryca's hand has come to pause on the highest of her ridges.

Jh'or watches with a small, affectionate smile as Xaenyth wanders away.

Aerianth has finally slowed her eating, belly quite a bit fuller for the impressive meal she's just had. She rubs her softly pinked head against Griere's robe, then twitches, pausing. Hmmm. That's... interesting. An inquiring croon is shot Griere's way.

Catriona bites on her lower lip, silent, and squirms a little under Zevalyth. "Come now, darling," she whispers, tracing a finger along his hide. Rousing, the little brown blinks open whirling eyes, and after a moment responds, coming to his paws and swaying. He tilts his head to look adoringly at his Catti, and she just shakes her head. "Going to another room. Though if you watch along the way, it could turn into an adventure." Since his horizons right now aren't very broad, everything's seen for the first time.

Brees catches that twitch from the gold and addresses Griere. "Slather just were she's twitching with oil and you can get the rest when we get to the barracks. Everyone up and ready to go? Jh'or, if you can't wake her, I'll carry her."

Okay, basic information of who is in charge. Raider can deal with that. He leans closer to Djarith to share more of the details on the walk over. "It's a funny name, until you said it, don't you think? I had to prove to the other boys I wasn't funny, that they could count on me." A'ley stands, glancing around and happy to see his lifemate isn't lazily sleeping already. He grins. Of course not.