Eilidh's Brown Cayetath

Hiccup in Hospitality Egg

It's a lovely scene. The sky is blue with hints of lavender suggesting the approach of evening. Pastures wrap around the swollen middle of the egg in a belt of green and straw yellow. But the picturesque scene is slightly different on the far side. A stampede of brown mars the green field and the shapes of dragons interrupt the sky, browns and bronzes and a single sunny queen hound and threaten the terrified herd. Below the verdant belt is a pool of blood, a gleaming puddle of crimson and scarlet seeping into darkness.

Egg Inspiration: Ista was putting on a 'fake threadfall' for Keroon to watch and before anyone had a chance to realize what had happened, it turned into a very real goldflight. Nya's Genneth was about to rise. The bronzes blooded some of the Hold's best beasts before the flight began and put a serious strain on Weyr-Hold relations. There is a log located at http://www.filidh.org/~kassima/flights/evrin151.html

Hatching Message: The Hiccup in Hospitality Egg seems to have had enough. It's overstayed its welcome- or at least, the dragonet within has. A final and abrupt crack splits it in a dozen pieces, leaving a wet dragonet in its wake.

Sardonic Spiced-Rum Brown

Imperishable walnut seeps into this brown hatchling's hide, his build one made up of lean muscles that ripple across his gangly form, rangy limbs and fruit-mottled angles meshing beneath wingsails of dark, heady rum. Awkward lankiness prevails over pure brawn in him; he'll never be bulky, but his strength will be obvious despite his lithe frame. Harsh scarlet streaks across his sides, contrasted by the pale cherry stain on the underside of his belly; gold filigree coils around slate-dark talons and headknobs, sweetened by a soft smattering of ocher across his prominent, pointed muzzle. Creamy pistachio tinges the warm, roasted chestnut of extra-long ridges, sliding down to the very tip of his tail's animated length.

Final Size: 36.3

Dragon Inspiration: Cay is based off all the best Bitrans there ever were: strong individuals with a unique sense of style and a great talent for getting the upper hand.

Name: Cayetath - Saint Cayetano is the patron saint of gamblers; a fitting name. We also liked the variations on pronunciation you could choose; soft or hard C, for example (Say-that, Say - e - tath or Kai - uh- tath), with the former two being a little more casual and the latter being more exotic.

Mindvoice:

Internal Impression Message: A sudden wave of dizziness washes over you and your head spins to think what could be wrong. Perhaps it's the heat or maybe you didn't eat enough before the hatching started. Surely you won't faint on the sands though, not in front of everyone. But you feel remarkably heavy, like your hands and feet are lead, making it difficult to move. Your head swims and you start to wonder if someone had spiked that last glass of juice. That's how you feel. Numb and dizzy like the whole world is spinning and you can't make it stop. You feel like you should be worried, but you're not. There's something telling you that everything is just as it should be. Some extra sense, an extra voice. << That's right, Eilidh. I'm here. >> A new wave of something threatens to overwhelm you, to send you to your knees. Such love and acceptance has never even entered your dreams and now is nearly knocks you over. Everything slams back into focus and you see the owner of that remarkably familiar voice. A brown dragon. A gorgeous brown dragon, and he's yours. << The world is ours. Just for us. I am Cayetath. >>

External Impression Message: The Sardonic Spiced-Rum Brown seems almost to hesitate for a second. Then his eyes have fallen on the one for whom he was born to be, and he's upon her, with one creel that's turning from a question to the eternal answer of limitless devotion.

Temperament

Weyrling:

In his younger days, your Cayetath will be something of a handful. There isn't any doubt in the amount of trouble he'll cause, whether it be coercing one of his fellow weyrlings into tipping that bucket of oil over, or simply skipping out on a class to go take a swim in the ocean, or a fly out over it when he's able. He'll be too far out, either way, for you to come get him, Eilidh, and should you call him back he'll pretend not to hear. He's just tricksy like that. It'll take some time and work to figure out a balance to your relationship with him, because unless you learn control over his unruly ways he'll get you into all sorts of trouble. Well... more then he does already, anyway. He'll hate sleeping in the barracks too, all cooped up in his couch with the smell of oil and /human/ bodies everywhere. He'd much rather be /out/, out where he can see what's going on, be a part of the mix. He takes pleasure in spying, whether it be on a group of children playing with their little toys on the beach, or perhaps the Weyrwoman and a wingleader talking in the Bowl. He isn't particularly nosy. He just doesn't like not knowing what's happening around him. And if you're in the living caverns, Eilidh, and something interesting happens, you'd be wise not to let him know. He'll try his best to poke a snout in through the entrance, and when he fails at that - he will, dragons have huge noses - he'll resort to settling for one big whirling eye fixed on those inner caverns.

Adult:

As he grows he'll mature, as most things do, but he won't lose many of his natural traits, those little quirks to his personality that might have you constantly cursing him under your breath, despite the love you have for him. For you won't have a choice but to love him. Not only is it one of those things that comes with the bond, but even with his more unsavory qualities taken into consideration he's still lovable in his own way. He's lazy, undeniably so. He'd rather, if given a choice, be sprawled out on the beach in a patch of shade then out /working/. He's also a bit of a cheater. That's right, he'll gamble. Every chance he gets. He'll drag you into this obsession of his too, poor Eilidh, and you'll find yourself, come next Hatching, having an irresistible urge to bet on that one egg, that green one, hatching a blue, and that large one over in the corner there will definitely be a bronze, you have two marks on it. But Cayetath isn't a fair gambler. Did he say he bet /against/ that spindly-legged runner winning the race? He meant /for/. And though he remembers every detail of the agreement he made - via you, usually - he can't for the life of him recall those conditions when another dragon - or even another person - calls him on a slight they've noticed. Yet another means to trouble. Don't worry though, there'll be many more. He seems to draw some sort of amusement out of getting you into mischief, though he'll throw a bit of a fit should whatever punishment you get effect him as well. /Grounded/? /Why/? Ah, but one thing is for certain. It's incontestable, without a doubt. He has the most profound, endless, unconditional love for you, Eilidh. He'd do anything for you and you alone, would fly to Belior if you wanted - he relies on you for common sense afterall, so that request, if you made it, wouldn't seem farfetched at all. He hides his feelings for you, for others, well, but if you know what to look for you'll find it in him, and that well of emotion will act as a fortifier for you in the darker moments of your life. He's your anchor, your rock, despite his seemingly unpredictable and unreliable ways. He's yours and you're his, and there isn't any other way to him, no other way he'd have it.

Flight:

Ah, flight. This is one thing that both you and he will love to death, one thing in which you find common ground. Or leave it. As soon as that pesky unmanned flight lesson is out of the way, he'll be hard to drag from the sky. Tired? He won't know the meaning of the word, and this will be another of those instances in which you'll have to /tell/ him he's tired and should come down, before he finds himself plummeting seawards. Now, when it comes to the world of mating flights and 'flirting', your Cayetath will be a charmer but he usually only wants one thing. Females aren't his favorite company to keep. In fact, aside from you, he rather dislikes them unless they're glowy, and it'll be an exceptional green or gold indeed that captures his attention for more then five minutes. As for the actual physical aspect of the flight - after he's worked his male wiles on the female in question - he'll show just how excellent a flier he is. He'll ride every thermal with expertise, will use the subtlest of wing flips to tip him just-so to the right, and his one focus will be the female flying ahead of him. Other males? What other males? Rain and thunder? He won't see it. As for the aftermath, should he win? He'll brag and boast and won't be subtle about it. He won and all of Pern will know if he has his way. And if he loses? Oh, will he sulk. Your vibrant, boisterous, arrogant lifemate will turn into a brooding hulk of a thing, a babyish brat who'll snap at any dragon who so much as looks at him sideways. He might even give you a tart remark or two. That is until he forgets.

Wing:

This is one area where he won't be double-edged, won't have ulterior motives or a way of getting ahead; he just wants that Thread gone -now-. He's completely singleminded, and you might find it refreshing to see just how strong and powerful your lifemate is, and how dedicated he really is to protecting Pern - though he gruffly wouldn't admit it if pressed. Afterward though? Ah, well, that's a time for boasting and showing off scars, even if he's not -entirely- sure where he got them.

Credits:

Egg: Griere
Description: Catriona
Name: Griere
Temper: Catriona and Reye
Puppeteer: Catriona