Ista Weyr Log: Lieryth and Mikhuth's Hatching, November 2008

Lieryth and Mikhuth's Hatching - November 16, 2008

Hatching Galleries, Ista Weyr(#340RJ)
Though the entrance to the galleries comes straight from the bowl it is only midway up the stands, allowing visitors an option of moving higher or lower to their height of choice. Down the steps, a sturdy railing separates the galleries from the glimmering hatching sands below. Layers of stone benches carved directly into the rock are the only seating available, though they have been made smooth and comfortable by Turns of spectators wearing them down.
At the very top of the galleries, stairs lead up to a higher viewing section: the hatching ledges which encircle the entirety of the cavern. Even higher above is a hole in the ceiling, providing an entranceway for dragons. The blackness of the sands has a habit of absorbing much of the natural light coming in through the ceiling entrance, thus glowbaskets are present at every level of the galleries to help combat the darkness.
If there are eggs upon the sands, +list/eggs is available for viewing the clutch.
Contents:
Sketchbook
Ananta
Obvious exits:
Bowl Stairs Sands

T'mic arrives from the southeast bowl.

Nolee arrives from the southeast bowl.

On the sands, Mikhuth's excitement is visible; there is a coiled tensity to the bronze as he rises to his hindlegs and spreads his wings for balance before he, too, joins in the humming crescendo of sound.

On the sands, Fayre is pacing nervously in front of Lieryth, her arms crossed and mouth pulled into a worried grimace. The arrival of more humming dragons seems to calm her down some, though, and she lets out a slow breath of air. "It's finally happenin'." She states, even though it's rather obvious. If Lieryth's worried, she isn't showing it; the gold happily humms along with Mikhuth as she watches her eggs.

On the sands, As they come onto the sands, the Candidates make their respectful bows to Lieryth and Mikhuth.

The thrumming throughout the Weyr alerts the Weyrleaders to the oncoming hatching, and the pair make their way into the galleries, greeting visitors and weyrfolk alike as they come in. "It's a lot less stressful when it's not our dragons out there," C'len murmurs to Nolee as they find seats.

On the sands, Fayre suddenly seems to notice the /heat/. Her hands begin to fan at her face as beads of sweat begin to form on her forehead. "Oy, but why'd the pick noon? Figures your children would pick such a time." Lieryth gets herself a glare from the weyrwoman, but she's smiling broadly as she does it, despite the heat.

On the sands, Jakkal glances about when he rises from the bow and finds a spot in the general area of Niala and Sunniva in the semi-circle about the eggs. "Best of luck..." he murmurs to them, his voice no doubtedly reaching most of the other Candidates if not even further. Then his gaze sweeps over the fifteen eggs, trying to spot the source of the first danger before it arrives.

On the sands, Sunniva grimaces a little, despite her best efforts not to. The heat, the humidity; not good when paired with the warmth of the sands. She passes a hand over her forehead, then wipes it on her robe, lower lip caught up in her teeth. There's a thin smile and nod for Jakkal. "You, too." Then, her eyes are purely for the eggs.

On the sands, Balinne, after the last candidate has been ushered out and bowed, heads away from the eggs for a proper view of the clutch. If the heat means anything to her, she doesn't show it

Nolee is excited, though rather underdressed for the finery of the occasion required. Instead, she sits by C'len in a place near the front so they've a good view. "It is! And no complaining about being down there in this awful heat, either." Fortunately, there are stations with water pitchers along the stairways, just in case the heat is too much for their guests.

On the sands, D'kai's only a step behind Fayre, albeit stationed against one of Mikhuth's planted legs. He does lean forward at her words, aiming to lightly touch the gold rider's arm; his own grin is unabashedly delighted, redoubling even at her mention of the heat. "It'll be okay. More than okay! It'll be excellent, Fayre."

On the sands, Niala works on positioning herself close to Jakkal and Sunniva, gently pushing past other candidates until she finds them. Then, it's all silence and seriousness and she stares out at the sands, watching and waiting. "Hmm...wonder which will go first?" Random thought. Sunniva and Jakkal get a wan, nervous smile.

On the sands, Pop Goes the Luck Egg rocks back and forth, briefly, its black end almost camouflaged in the dark sands while the bright colors on its other end draw attention to the movement.

On the sands, Javeri wipes sweat from her forehead and stops near the rest she's gotten close to. "Noon. Wow, great timing," she says with a laugh as she turns her attention to the eggs. "Good luck, guys!"

On the sands, T'mic ducks onto the Sands shortly after the Candidates arrive, giving the galleries a glance as he moves along the far wall. There's a certain dark-haired Candidate he seeks out to exchange smiles with, but the greenrider quickly turns his attention back to the imminent Hatching as he waits along with the Candidates.

On the sands, Evil Eye Egg and Mystery Message Egg as if in cahoots, quake once - twice - and then crack so quickly in succession it's difficult which came first. But two blues result: one with eerily large and luminescent eyes, and then other with a muted periwinkle hide. The wide-eyed, alien-looking blue lurches crazily on unsteady feet, sent scrambling as he tries to catch his balance - and crashes directly into clumsy B'orl, who exclaims as he steadies the dragonet, "Hey, watch out, Aiteth!"

On the sands, Avey's hair is pulled into a crooked ponytail, and her robe looks as if it's on backwards. She blinks, still trying to get her bearings; the heat of the sand isn't helping any. Sweat is already beading on her forehead, and she weaves her way through the line of candidates to stand near Jakkal and Sunniva. "Is it just me or is it like, crazy hot? Why couldn't they hatch at night?" she mutters toward the nearby candidates.

On the sands, Suizen follows out with the other Candidates, pulling the braid out from under the robe where it got caught. Stopping near Sunniva and Javeri, she nods, and calls out a simple "Luck!" to the others, her gaze drawn to the rocking Egg. *gulp* Sudden apprehension is felt, as her gaze flickers towards a certain area near the tunnel they came out, then back to the eggs. Showtime.

On the sands, Idraila shuffles in with the rest of the white robes, a hand suddenly lifted to shade her eyes as the sun strikes them. Stumbling through the sand, she finds herself a nice, shallow mound of sand and roots herself there, allowing herself some room between herself and the nearest candidates, who happen to be Sunniva and Jakkal. They find themselves scanned, but that watching quickly disappears when the first egg cracks.

On the sands, Supernatural Toll Egg shivers, the only outward sign of the inner dragonet's efforts. It pauses, twitching, a faint scraping coming from within.

On the sands, Balinne is busy already. Not a minute has passed before she's moving from her spot, quickly heading to the pair of blues to directed them off the Sands.

On the sands, Sunniva tips her head to Niala, murmuring, "Oh, I do not-" and thus, it begins. "Oh, oh dear. Good luck, all of you," is directed to the others nearby, but though her throat works, she doesn't seem to find any further words. Eggs, now. Just eggs.

Rhodya arrives with her arm slung through an older man's, laughing at something he said on the way in. The two of them look flushed, but whether from the heat outside or the fact that they ran in here to catch the hatching, who can say? "Aw, look," the tall woman says, pointing at the sands. "We missed the first one." "Then we'd better sit quick, and catch the rest," advises the old man, gesturing her to an end-seat in the closest aisle.

On the sands, Jakkal watches the two blues hatch and nods as one impresses almost instantly. His gaze settles on the other blue taking time to skip over the remaining thirteen eggs between updates on his position.

On the sands, Fayre nods slowly as her face drains of colour, then abruptly it's flushed again thanks to the heat. Nerves plus humidity make for an odd combination. "Aye, you're right. With two such proud parents, things just /have/ to go wonderfully." Then suddenly one of her dragon's children has already impressed! "Oh, my!"

On the sands, Niala just now realizes the hour and wipes her own brow. "Mmm...better than midnight I suppose. At least we can see." Oops, eggs are hatching, and it's no more talking, just watching and readiness to avoide rogue hatchlings. She only nods to the calls of luck, not wanting to interrupt her concentration.

Fiorella arrives from the southeast bowl.

On the sands, Idraila is vigilent, eyes wide to take in every movement of egg and dragonet alike. She seems vaguely defensive, though, and tense, as if at any moment she expects to have to protect herself from an errant claw or two. Her expression, however, is utterly calm, enough so that she can even summon a small smile for her nearby candidates as they babble out nervous words. She herself is all silence.

On the sands, Tosolla goes up onto her tiptoes before wiping sweaty palms on her robe. She grins over at Sunniva and Niala before settling down again, shooting T'mic occasional glances. "Oooh, blues!" she announces, rather off the mark.

T'rev arrives from the southeast bowl.

Scooting towards the sketchpad, Ananta reaches out to grab it. "No one will mind if I borrow a couple sheets..."

On the sands, Avey points out, "We could use glows and torches if it was dark." The two blues, already impressed, catch her attention, and she blinks again. "Wow. That was fast."

C'len settles down in the front, with a good view. "Those two were quick!" He says, of the blues, before he's distracted by a Nabol holder behind him who wants to chat about fruit harvests and other things. Light eyes shift between the sands and the holder, clearly more interested in the former than the latter.

On the sands, Pop Goes the Luck Egg doesn't pop, but it does snap and crackle. A long, thin fissure forms along one side, parallel to the swooping brown line that crosses its shell.

Everything is happening quickly. So, reaching into her bag Ananta grabs her pen, bumping the woman in front of her in the process.

On the sands, Sunniva plucks at her robe, feet shifting just a little. As it's not yet too hot, the movement is a discrete one. "Yes, better," is aimed to Niala, "at least we are rested." Shiver. Tosolla's smile is caught and returned, a fleeting thing before her gaze slants back to the eggs.

On the sands, Javeri watches the first of the dragons that hatch before sparing a glance for the wobbling and cracking eggs. "I think I'd have preferred night," she remarks somewhat absently as she gives most of her attention to the eggs and their soon to be appearing inhabitants.

On the sands, D'kai chuckles. "Of course. Two /perfect/ parents. So it'll all go swimmingly." That laugh is accompanied by an excited thump against Mikhuth's haunches as those two eggs burst and reveal the dragonets within. "Look, Mickey! Blues! Two blues! Oh, they're - fabulous, Fayre."

On the sands, Jakkal nods, still watching the blue and the other eggs which have begun to twitch and crack. He stifts his stance slightly, "Sharding sandals are going to roast my soles before we're done," he rumbles.

On the sands, Pop Goes the Luck Egg rocks forward one last time, the fissure along its shell turning into a chasm which sends many smaller cracks spreading out. Tiny fragments of color fleck off, showering onto the sands and spilling out a glistening, goo-covered green. The petite hatchling unfolds, dainty wings spreading to dry and help with balance alike as she pauses momentarily, taking in the sudden change in environment before setting off to find what she's looking for.

Blossoming Bright Apple Green

She glistens, this small green: intense, bright apple hues gloss over her hide, reminiscent of a freshly-washed piece of fruit. Highlights of yellow, like the tendrils within a blossoming flower, accentuate large headknobs and swirl down to color 'ridges which frame wide eyes that seem almost too large to fit in her delicate, wedge-shaped head. The rest of her is small, from a tiny, rounded snout to a narrow chest and back which taper to a long, thin tail colored with a subtle tint of brown. An even tone of green spreads over her slender neck, the peaks of her neckridges touched with faint dapples of the same brown of her tail. Diminutive wings shimmer at her sides, nigh-translucent wingsails traced with gossamer strands of ethereal, pearly white. That shade echoes in talons that tip paws of a darker, leafy green, managing to easily support her despite their small size. Slight of frame yet bold and bright, delicate grace imbues the crisp, clean lines of this dainty green while a certain sense of awareness suffuses her demeanor.

"Ouch!" Rhodya yelps, rubbing the back of her head. She turns around to see what bumped into her, and sees Ananta sitting there with her pen. She squints wryly up at the other woman gives her a smile. "Gotta be careful, there. This place's packed tight 'n all."

On the sands, Suizen shakes her head a touch, "It's hotter than my kiln out here. Don't go burying any toes here....." she warns, a bit absently as one egg fairly shatters, a quick smile appearing at the little green.

On the sands, Balinne got to wear boots, so there's not antsy foot-to-foot movement from the Weyrlingmaster. But, she's kept busy enough, maneuvering around the Sands with a watchful eye out for both candidates and dragons alike.

Sitting back up, it seems other things have already passed. But, that's no matter. "Oh, I'm so sorry...I'm a little eager" Peering down at the woman, Ananta wonders out loud "How's the view from there?"

Fiorella hurries into the stands hand in hand with T'rev, leaving him to find seats as she's twisting to catch a glimpse of the sands on the way. "Can you see her?" she asks, standing on tip toes once they've finally found a place to sit.

On the sands, Niala shifts around, allowing each foot a few seconds of precious relief from the heat of the sands. "I like being able to see without worrying about shadows, though the heat...." She trails off as yet another egg hatches, smiling at the little green as she appears. "Cute."

On the sands, Idraila has already adopted the characteristic, flamingo-like pose of a candidate, not even waiting for the extreme heat to rise through her sandals and into the soles of her feet. Her stance-switching seems almost meticulously timed rather than as a random reaction; her feet alternate every few minutes like clockwork. The green pops out of the Pop Egg and her brown eyes follow her as relentlessly as they followed the blues before her.

On the sands, Sunniva ohs at the latest hatchling, hands hanging at her sides for lack of having anything better to do with them. "Lovely thing," is murmured, just loud enough for those near to hear. To Niala, though her eyes don't move from the young dragon, "It is nice to see them in full. Oh, I wonder-"

On the sands, Jakkal can't quite help the grin which flashes on his face at the first green and he nods his head in her direction as his gaze slips to Niala and Sunniva, "Have at her." He winks then, watching green and blue before blinking and failing to see the blue. Either it is among the Candidates, which is dangerous, or it has Impressed, which is not. He frowns, attention moving from the green to the Candidates.

On the sands, Fayre watches as yet another egg decides it's time to hatch. "Gosh, they're goin' fast, ain't they? Figures. Think both our dragons are speedy workers, so makes sense." Now that a number of eggs have hatched perfectly fine, Fayre's nervousness decreases to just a few fidgeting gestures.

Nolee watches dragonets, who have so quickly burst from their shells just as people are beginning to get seated - but then, there's that fellow behind them yammering about fruit trees. Fortunately, C'len's got that unhappily handled, so she instead watches a nearby happening of a woman bumping someone in front of her, fascinated, and as per usual, missing the first impression. "What was it? What happened? Jays."

Rhodya chuckles. "Ah, no worries. Ain't no harm done. You wanna move down so you don't have to peek over my big ole head? View's probably a lot better that way," she suggests, patting the empty seat next to her. On the other side, the old man with her glances back to see who Rhodya's talking to, but he's a hatching hound, and far too focused on the eggs to bother with any talking.

On the sands, Javeri laughs more loudly before she says, "We're talking about the weather. It seems kinda funny to be talking about the weather at a time like this. Oh, well." She watches the hatchlings roam the sands with avid curiosity. Feet shift because the heat catches up to them after awhile.

Flipping, flipping, flipping. "come on, I need a blank page" Ananta gets her pen the right way, nub-down, and starts drawing. Eyes up and following the green.

On the sands, Seven Years Egg shifts in the sand, first to the right, then to left. It is a subtle enough cant, and then it stops.

On the sands, Avey tilts her head, smiling as the green finally emerges from the Pop Goes the Luck egg. "I /thought/ that one would be a green," she says with a hint of smug triumph in her voice. "And look, she's very - colorful, too!"

Also absorbed in the activities below, Ananta misses the woman's comment and only catches the tail end. Something about a big head. Eyes still on the green, she nods "thank you yes" and then standing without looking down she moves awkwardly to sit below.

On the sands, D'kai spares a quick look over towards Fayre before it's back and eager on the eggs and dragonets. "Yeah. Well, can't say I remember too much of Mickey's own hatching, it all went by so fast. Oh, she's a pretty little thing!" Mikhuth only intensifies his humming, encouraging.

"Of course we'd love that," C'len can be heard saying to the holder, which seems to be the key words which make the man pipe down. He leans over to Nolee and says something that goes unheard by those around, before replying, more loudly, to her question, "Two blues. And now a green--" Keeping track.

On the sands, He was never here. Really. The silver-laced brown which springs from Taboo to Touch Egg scrupulously tries to reassemble the shards to not much avail. When after a few moments, that proves a lost cause, he casts an anxious look around the sands and scurries to duck behind a nearby candidate and Impression is made, in a shared, conspiratorial look sparked between the two.

Color, color...where are my pastels? Gotta have color, or what's the point of drawing dragons. Ananta fishes out a small wooden box.

On the sands, Idraila wilts in all this bright heat, the evidence of it springing out in wet beads in her forehead, in the weighted look of her tied back curls. But she still stands alert, brushing sweat from her eyes when it threatens to blur her vision. The fidgeting begins soon enough, though, her tension directed into swift tugs at the edge of her robe, fingers teasing loose threads even looser. Impressions made around her are acknowledged with a blink and a short smile, perhaps a nod of congratulations if the lucky new weyrling at all sees her, but nothing more.

T'rev comes in with Ella, peering out at the sands and makes a face at crowded stands. "Here," he says suddenly and leads the way to two seats. "Annnd ... yeah I see her. Here, wanna sit on my lap so you're higher up?" he offers to his ward.

On the sands, Jakkal shrugs. No screaming, so the blue must have Impressed. Twelve eggs and one green. So long as they keep spacing themselves out like this, there shouldn't be any issues keeping track of them all. "Mildly prissy," Jakkal rumbles with a wink to Avey and a grin to assure her that he's just joking, thankful that he's relatively safe between Niala and Sunniva for the moment. He blinks as one egg is missing and spots the brown after he has already Impressed. Eleven eggs then, even better.

Gaelyn arrives from the southeast bowl.

On the sands, Sunniva flicks a look to the other eggs, watchful and wary. But that green is kept in her periphery; aware of, but not avidly following. More feet-shifting ensues, still discrete. Patient. Her head tilts when the brown hatches and is quick to Impress, but that's as far as her gaze follows.

On the sands, Supernatural Toll Egg's twitching continues insistently, though nothing yet has come of its efforts. After a few more breathless seconds it stops once more.

On the sands, Avey snorts with laughter, belatedly, at Javeri's observation. "You know - you're totally right! Ha. That's funny." Then sweat drips in her eye, and she ows, and rubs with her knuckle, trying to ease the stinging.

Rhodya lifts a brow at the woman's reluctance to interrupt her frantic scribblings, but she presses a smile down over any temptation to comment and welcomes Ananta into the seat next to her with another beckoning gesture. She peeks at the drawing that's taking life on the page and lets out an admiring little "Oooh," but she doesn't say more than that lest she break Ananta's concentration.

On the sands, Niala watches the green carefully. Surely something that adorable and sweet looking wouldn't be evil and charge the candidates. You never can be too careful though. "You wonder what Sunni," is asked without moving her eyes from the hatchling.

On the sands, Suizen swallows a gurgle of amusement at the sight of the super-secret brown, as she shifts from one foot to the next and back again. "Weather's a constant?"

On the sands, Blossoming Bright Apple Green is taking her time on the sands, carefully toddling along as she peers curiously at everything she sees. Her steps are taken very slowly, and whenever she seems to be at the slightest risk of falling, the dainty green flares out her wings to steady herself. Her unhatched kin seem to be the hatchling's greatest interest and she pauses to stare at them for a moment and croons softly, as if asking them to come out and join her.

On the sands, Balinne saw that, sneaky brown. So she's off to fetch him, weyrling and all, and usher them to the barracks. At this rate, T'mic won't have anything to do but sit back and enjoy the weather.

On the sands, Sunniva ohs, then looks to Niala to finish her former, and unfinished thought, "I wonder who she will look to." Of course. There's a flicker of a smile sent to her, then Jakkal -- sympathetic, for the idea of prissiness.

On the sands, Avey sticks her tongue out at Jakkal. "She is not, don't insult the dragons," she says in defense of the green hatchling. You'll never impress /that/ way."

On the sands, Jakkal shifts his stance again, a few beads of sweat visible on his ebony skin though he doesn't seem overly concerned with the 'weather' as Javeri put it. As the green remains near the Clutch, he allows his gaze to wander over the ovoids, alert for any new dangers which might present themselves which she serves as a distractions to the crowds.

On the sands, T'mic pushes himself off the wall to amble along after that green, casually keeping an eye on her past the white-robed fence. His path takes him - coincidentally or not - away from the new brown pair, and he never sees Balinne escort the two away from the Sands.

"this is better" Ananta does continue with a frenetic pace, first gestures of the curved line of candidates...there white...there funny poses...then the movement of the eggs...one blue...then the other....the brown hiding with his eyes askance.

On the sands, Fayre smirks at the sneaky brown. "Never seen a dragon try to put its shell back together before. Must get that from you." She teases, sparing a glance at Mikhuth.

On the sands, The pale blue from Mystery Message Egg lingers a minute longer on the sands, shaking out his wings and dragging his nose through the sand to shake off those last clinging eggshell bits. Then he's all business: marching quite determinedly towards Kameron - now K'mron - whose dismay at Impressing 'just a blue' is swiftly washed away under his loud, triumphant shout: "His name is Loth!"

"Ugh, we do?" Nolee makes a face at C'len for his whispering, then dons a blithe and vacant smile as she realizes that indeed, the holder is behind them. "Really? Jays. Brown's'd be better luck, but we'll take it if they all hatch healthy." A few rows away, Nolee tries to see the scribbling woman's creations, but can't. Instead, she decides to watch the hatching. "Aw, that one's asking them to come out and play," she astutely observes of the green below.

On the sands, Javeri keeps looking at the unhatched eggs unable to just focus on the ones that have already appeared on the sands. "You have a point," she tells Suizen. "Fine weather we're having here at Ista. I hear they're saying summer will be particularly warm followed by a heated autumn." She starts to add something and then stops. "Oh, look! Kameron impressed. Umm. Wow. Well, they say there's someone for everyone."

Fiorella nods, slipping into place. "I see her now." she replies, "And if you don't mind." But obviously since he asked he doesn't and she settles on T'rev's lap. At least that way she can sort of see without being too much in the way of those behind her.

On the sands, Seven Years Egg shifts again in the sand. There's no stopping it from moving considering how persistent its movement is now. Nor is it all that subtle, it's a rather obvious.

On the sands, Idraila watches the indecisive green, but when the hatchling's eyes focus more on the other eggs than the candidates, she too, hesitantly, switches her gaze to them curiously. What's so interesting about them? Then the Seven Years Egg shivers right in front of her eyes. Oh.

On the sands, Tosolla steps forward at the sight of the brown, but loses track of him and settles back into place. "Oh, that green's pretty," she says to no one in particular, going onto her toes again.

On the sands, Niala takes her eyes off the green for a moment to give Jakkal a smirk. "And who says she won't go for /you/." Teasing, of course. Then, it's back to the sands, waiting to see what else emerges from the eggs. A snort. "Congrats Kameron. He's a nice looking little blue."

On the sands, Sunniva hears a familiar voice and doesn't have to crane her head that way to utter, "Goodness help us." There's a soft laugh, a glance back to Javeri for her comments. The glance is quick, though, and it's back to egg-watching. "I do wonder what that will have." 'That' being indicated with a chin point toward the Seven Years.

On the sands, Jakkal blinks at the shout and curses softly under his breath. So it hadn't Impressed yet. He keeps going like this and he's just asking for an accident. Set to be more attentive, the young man's gaze moves to the green again to see where she might be before shifting his attention to any egg which so much as twitches.

The page getting full of marks, she flips it over. And turns her head to include the audience. Adults, children being held up. The arched shape of the gallery. She shades heavily to indicate the black sand. And leaves negative space for each candidate.

On the sands, Suizen shakes her head with a bit of a grin, muttering, "Absolutely - I'd suggest goin' skinny dippin' tonight, but I've a feelin' folks aren't going to be up for it... Maybe someone will get over the urge today?" Sunni gets a bit of a grin at the comment, even if she doesn't identify who this 'someone' might be.

On the sands, D'kai considers the stealthy brown, now led off to the barracks, for a moment before replying to Fayre with a laugh, "I think he did do something similar. Hid behind the shell, or something, before he came all drunk and swingin'. Hear that, Mickey? She says that one takes after you! Green's still wandering, eh?" He squints, picking her out behind a white robe.

Ananta turns to the woman next to her, "Sorry, I'm going to move down for a better view" She hurriedly collects her things and scoots over to en empty spot on the side railing.

On the sands, And there's one! T'mic hurries over to K'mron and claps a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Handsome lad you've got there." His grin encompasses both weyrling and blue, and shortly the pair is escorted off the Sands.

On the sands, A scraping. Another. And then the 'coin' at the top of the Supernatural Toll Egg pops free, revealing pale stickiness within. It isn't long before the hatchling discovers the new exit: first a scraggly blue tail emerges, the opening widening and dissolving under the increased attentions of a kicking pair of back feet. Less than a handful of seconds pass before the Liberated Pinstripe Blue hurriedly backs free from his prison, stubborn fragments of shell still glued to his neck and head.

Liberated Pinstripe Blue

Pale, almost ice-touched blue is his dominant shade, providing a certain solidity to an otherwise rangy form. Where some dragons glisten and gleam, his only decoration is a faint cornflower striping at shoulder, wrist and chest that leaves his haunches bare but provides an air of dignity rather than making him look half-dressed. His chest is almost comically deep, emphasizing the extreme tuck-up of his hindquarters while balancing broad wings. Gangly cadet blue wingspars support smoke-chased cornflower sails colored a uniform shade which matches his faint bands of color. The trim lines of a slender tail are mirrored fore and aft in delicate wrists; crisp, cream talons grace each paw, a bright contrast to the subtlety of his hide. Blunted ridges, apple-round and inviting to touch, rise smoothly from his shoulders and crest his neck. Small but uncommonly intent eyes are nearly lost beneath bulging headknobs. A distinctly pointed muzzle tapers from his forehead, finishing off a face touched with arrogance.

T'rev cants his head to one side, to see around Fiorella, his attention on the Sands. "Look, there's Sunni, she's laughin', hey can't be too bad down there then," he says with a grin for the girl.

On the sands, Sunniva slants a look sidelong to Suizen, doing her surreptitious best to stick her tongue out at the other young woman. Not that, well, it works. But she tries. Sweat is rubbed from her forehead again, then wiped on her robe. At the latest hatchling, she 'ohs' again, "Look at him!"

"'Course," Rhodya answers Ananta, shooting her an understanding smile. By now, the hatching's picked up enough of her interest that she doesn't mind the loss of company, and the old man next to her is hooting and cheering at every new Impression, which could well be distracting to an artist.

The heat allowing the colors to blend nicely. The blue gives her some intersting things to observe. Especially the faint striping.

On the sands, Idraila tug-tugs at the edge of her robe again, then clasps her hands behind her back in an attempt to rein in the distracting fidgeting. Her eyes dart between the blue and green dragonets quickly, aiming to take in every movement of each. Impossible of course. "That one needs to hurry up and Impress already," she comments in a frank mutter, paying no attention to whether or not those candidates nearest her have heard.

C'len grins at the artist attempting to capture the hatchlings, but then he's caught up in that pale blue one. "A lot of blues so far," he observes, reaching a hand up to tug at the neckline of his tunic, as if that might make it suddenly cooler somehow. The heat of the sands wafts in the direction of the galleries, buffeted by the warmth of the afternoon.

On the sands, Jakkal cough, really, it isn't an attempt to cover (badly) his bark of laughter at the sight of the blue's tail from the egg. His gaze switches quickly to the green then to the blue, before going over the Clutch again. Rince and repeat. "Ten more eggs," he mutters to Niala as he shifts his stance, shaking his right foot slightly in an attempt to dislodge the grains of sand beneath.

On the sands, Conquered! The newest hatchling to break free of her rounded prison announces her presence with a stuttering, satisfied bugle. The Fey Wood Egg lays in shambles around a stocky green, and before she sets out to make her mark the dragonet thoroughly stomps them flat underfoot. There! Take that. Only once that mission is accomplished does the green set out and claim a white-robed lifemate of her very own.

On the sands, Javeri focuses on the rocking egg and grins as the dragon backs out of his former home. "Oh, they all have such pretty markings, don't they?" she asks as she looks around for the green again. "Definitely pretty every one. I never realized some were so quick to find someone."

Fiorella giggles and nods. "Can't be so bad." she agrees. "That's my sister." she adds in an aside note to anyone close enough to hear and care, pointing towards where Sunniva stands. "Think she'll impress this time?" the question asked as she twists to send a grin back towards T'rev, though its only momentary least she miss anything on the sands.

On the sands, Niala groans, now there are /two/ hatchlings to keep track of. "How are we supposed to keep track of them all...Though, he's a handsome one." Directed to the blue of course. Her head moves back and forth, looking from the green to the blue. She wipes some sweat out of her eyes. "Is it just me, or is it getting hotter in here?"

Ananta pushes her weight against the railing. Kneeling with pad in hand. She's leaning forward, hanging over the edge. Not a very good idea for someone who has a tendency to drop things.

On the sands, Balinne flashes a grin T'mic and K'mron's way as she passes them going back to the Sands. And right on over to that new green. There's a brighter smile directed at this pair, something murmured under her breath, and she turns to direct the new weyrlings out of the chaos.

On the sands, Avey takes note of the new-hatched blue. "Well, that one's got style!" she remarks, but returns her attention to the green almost right away, her expression growing hopeful as the hatchling lingers on the sands.

On the sands, Blossoming Bright Apple Green's steps are definitely purposeful and heading towards the candidates, but her large eyes are still firmly focused on the rest of the eggs instead of in front of her. As such, she nearly walks into a young boy from Boll without really realizing it, but his startled yelp and dodging dive surprise the young green. She flees in a bit of a panic, her wings stretched out wide to help her stay on her feet. Unfortunately for Sunniva, the hatchling's flared right wing smacks into her with quite a lot of force as the green goes running by. There's no blood or ichor on either, but poor Sunniva will probably find herself looking up at the cavern's ceiling.

"Oooh, Ella, your sister!"

T'rev shrugs loosely. "Dunno Ella, she's got as much chance as anyone else out there though," he says reassuringly. "Just have t'wait n' see. Oh shells!" He blinks in surprise as the green dragonet's wing clocks said Sunniva.

On the sands, Sunniva crinkles her nose, eyes flicking to the others, then to the hatchlings. "You just ... do," is her helpful advice to Niala, apologetically intoned. That, of course, before she's clipped with a wing and set to stumble, a bit of frantic arm-flailing doing nothing to stop her oh-so-embarrassingly-graceless landing on her rear. "/Oh/!" And is her face red. So much for being a good role model for dragon-watching.

"Jays. Well, blues are good fighters, too," Nolee decides, nodding to C'len, casually leaning her forehead against his shoulder and depositing a little sheen of damp droplets there to be left behind. Then there's a collision, and the Weyrwoman Ohhhs aloud, watching in worry.

On the sands, In line with the "Ohh" from the crowd above, the healers turn as one to watch. On the sidelines, the they're ready for all such occasions as frequently befall Istan hatchings. And this is no exception: they watch, bandages and numbweed at hand, just in case the petite candidate who was just knocked over will need medical attention. No bleeding, no ichor: all good signs, but they watch nonetheless.

On the sands, Jakkal nods to himself, but his soft whisper can reach Sunniva and Niala, and perhaps even an little further, "Another green come and gone." He sounds hopeful. And that's when the _other_ green makes her move. "Sunniva!" he booms out, ignoring the echoes as he reaches down to offer a hand to his fellow Candidate with a glare in the young female's direction. "Prissy _and_ clumbsy," he growls under his breath.

On the sands, T'mic turns just in time to catch Sunniva's tumble; he hurries over to her, keeping an eye on the green, and offers an arm. "Up, stand up," the greenrider urges, his head swinging as he locates all the unpartnered hatchlings.

On the sands, Idraila notices the green's approach early on and, with mincing steps, begins to back away from the wide-winged and stumbling hatchling. Better safe than sorry. As Sunniva soon learns.

On the sands, The steady tapping that has been ongoing within the Seven Years Egg suddenly stops. Each of the spidery cracks on its surface starts to widen slowly as something on the inside pushes its way out. Flecks of silver fall like rain to the sands, some made so delicate by the insistence of the egg's occupant to exit that they shatter on impact. Finally, from within the gaping blackness of a large hole in the egg's side, the dark shape of a blocky brown emerges, sliding forth like a shadow onto the sands to stand in the light and take stock of his surroundings.

Reflective Shadow Brown

Blocky and strong, this medium sized brown seems slightly tipped forward, due to a disparity in length between his fore and rear limbs. The rich color of an old, well cared for flying jacket cloaks his form with the density of night's shadows, the wear and tear of turns showing through in ragged patches of tawny buff that speckle his neck and touch the very tips of his wings. He's broad of forehead with stubby ink-touched headknobs, and his moon bright eyes peer out intelligently from beneath low-set browridges. Slinking along his sides, odd pale streaks of burnt sienna gleam through the darkness, a striking accent most noticeable when he is in flight. Stretched wide, his wings echo the squared off inclination of his shape, broad and sturdy, meant for stability and strength in flight. Robust shoulders taper neatly back to trim haunches and a broad tail that balances out the compact nature of his form. Ebon talons shot through with the subtle sheen of silver curve wickedly from long-fingered paws.

On the sands, Suizen winces, then makes to step over - T'mic beats her to it, of course, so she settles back down, making sure Sunniva's back to her feet, before turning her attention back to the Sands and the dragons.

On the sands, Javeri gasps when Sunniva goes down and focuses on her fellow candidate for a moment rather than the hatchlings. "Ack. You ok? Oh, get up before you burn parts that aren't your feet." A burned butt must be why she is trying not to laugh. And why she completely misses the hatching of the latest brown.

On the sands, Fayre looks shocked for a moment, but can't help but giggle a bit as the newest green stomps all over her former prison. "Oy, what a difference from her blue brother, eh? One tries to fix, other sets out to destroy." Then Sunniva's got her attention and she casts a worried look over that way. Her shoulders tense, then release. "I think she's okay."

On the sands, Sunniva grits her teeth as she presses her hands on the sand, intent on pushing herself up. But, then, T'mic's there and she tilts a grateful, if highly sheepish, smile up toward him as she accepts the arm. "Thank you," is barely more than a whisper. "I am fine. I just- oh, dear." And she'll be taking a step back, thank-you-very-much, once she's on her feet. Just to be safe. There's a wan smile to the others, appreciative for their concern, but nothing further from her.

On the sands, Niala gasps as the green runs by, jumping out of the way. Of course, her friend is now on the ground. "Oh Sunni, you alright?" Other people are helping her, so Niala just hovers like an anxious mother. "She was scared Jakkal, not clumsy, there's a slight difference." The hatching of the brown is missed, though she does note the new shape that's stalking the sands.

Fiorella winces at that hit her sister takes, cringing back into T'rev. "Ow," she mutters, "I hope she's okay.." Cause ya know, that looked like it hurt - alot.

On the sands, D'kai starts forward with a hand extended when that apple green bowls right through Sunniva, but pauses once he's got any farther than a step; T'mic's got the situation well under control and with a shake of his head the bronze rider sets himself back up against Mikhuth, who has dropped back to all fours. "Hope so- ooohh, look at that brown. No bronzes yet?" This is asked a bit forlornly as Deke's nose wrinkles.

On the sands, Trying to dislodge the shell, the Liberated Pinstripe Blue shakes his head too frantically and collapses to the Sands. He rests there for a moment, sides heaving, but hunger soon goads him up to sway on wobbly legs, jaws chittering his disapproval. The blue myopically regards the white-hued globs scattered around before staggering off toward the closest clump.

On the sands, Avey sees the green moves, and yelps out a warning, too late to do any good: "Look out, Sunniva!" But the candidate's already laid out flat. Avey frowns at Jakkal. "She is /not/ clumsy," she insists, and hop-hops a couple of steps toward Sunniva to make sure she's okay, always keeping an eye on the green hatchling.

T'rev winces a little, peering downward. "She's back up on her feet, probably just a li'l rattled," he tells Ella, though he's still looking and looking downward.

Whatever C'len was about to say regarding the hatchlings is forgotten as he watches the collision, but as Sunniva seems to be okay, he lets out the breath he'd been holding for a moment. "She's okay," he reassures, "And the healers are available--"

On the sands, Jakkal nearly misses the brown's hatching but skims the Clutch to be sure that the other eight eggs are still whole. He ignores the scolding from his fellow Candidates and keeps his gaze on the walking desaster and her blue and brown clutchbrothers.

On the sands, Fayre scans the hatching grounds, updating her mental tabs of what's where. "Don't think so. I like that brown, though." She notes with a nod towards the newest hatchling. "Looks like he'll be smart, doesn't he?"

On the sands, The jagged, charred line down Mother's Bane Egg abruptly gives way to pressure from within - coincidentally, once the emerging brown shape has punched through his shell, it tumbles apart in two neat pieces down that superficial fracture. The brownling tosses his head wildly and drums his tail against the sand, imperiously demanding that his lifemate, a startled apprentice harper, come to /him/ and attend /his/ needs. Now.

On the sands, Solla turns back at the gasps just as T'mic helps Sunniva back up. She calls a useless, "Careful!" and turns back to the hatching, though not without worried glances sent over to the teakettle Candidate.

On the sands, Reflective Shadow Brown stretches his wings out languidly. Everything about him is rather shy, quiet as he stays in one place. There's a sound of shock from the brown hatchling as his head cranes about to see those wings of his, testing them out. It doesn't look like he's ready to move away from home just yet. Until his own curiousity strikes and he's off. He moves stealthfully despite his blocky figure, leaving the shattered remains of his home. Unfortunately, he's still looking rather awkward as everything seems to strike his fancy, moving this way and that on the sands. One candidate is quickly dismissed before he slinks onward as his curiousity strikes again.

While everyone around him, including Rhodya, seems to be concerned about the girl who fell down, the old man sitting next to her is taking note of the most recent browns. "Oh, come on!" he bellows loudly, slapping the back of one hand into the opposite palm. "Where are the bronzes?" He pulls a sheet of paper out of his pocket and glowers at it. "I was so sure there'd be two of them. Not even one so far! Come /on/!"

On the sands, Sunniva presses an arm around her midsection, mouth drawing to one side before she bites her lower lip. Watching rather more carefully, now, she's gone silent and a bit more pale, green eyes flicking from hatchling to hatchling with a sense of hyper-vigilance. Green, blue, brown; repeat.

On the sands, T'mic waits until Sunni's well on her feet before tossing her a cheeky grin and heading over to the new brown hatchling. "Off you go - there's a good lad." One less pair to be causing mayhem.

Fiorella nods. "Still looked like it hurt." she notes, keeping eyes fixed on that one candidate til she's happy with how she looks. Even then the majority of her attention is on the sands.

New page. Ananta is well aware of Sunniva's past sand experience at High Reaches. She decides to focus on her. Moving to get a better angle on her reactions.

Nolee grips C'len's sleeve tightly in concern, then relaxes a bit as the girl below seems to be okay. "Nothing awful yet," she brightly observes. "Maybe the Fortian clutchsire's less, hm, of less bloodthirsty stock than those Reachians." Her eyes widen, "Um, except Vil, of course. He's tranquil like a wherry. I mean..." She just stops, with a pained face, then points, "Ohh, look, a brown one!"

On the sands, Deke nods, rolling forward on his toes to do another quick head count. "The blue, too. Smart, I bet. Clever eyes, and pretty neat colouring. They made some pretty sharp-looking babies, didn't they?" Another bright grin is flashes Fayre's way, and behind her, Lieryth. "Oh -" and there goes another brown.

On the sands, Idraila, in all the commotion, suddenly realizes that the other hatchlings has escaped her attention. Quickly, she jerks her head up to scan the mish-mash of eggs, shells and sand. Two browns have appeared while she was otherwise occupied, so she quickly takes note of both; luckily one Impresses and passes out of her concern. She then does a swift check back on Sunniva and the green, warily watching the latter.

On the sands, Jakkal catches the other brown while skanning the eggs. "And then there were seven," he rumbles. Eggs it would seem, as his attention is still moving between the thre unImpressed. His gaze does settle on the brown though, a small smile playing accross his features for a moment as the hathchling stalks about, then the ex-Stablehand's gaze is ont he move once more.

On the sands, Javeri wipes her forehead as she blinks sweat from her eyes. "Headbands would be a good idea," she comments as she tries to find the hatchlings she lost track of when trying to clear her eyes.

On the sands, Niala eyes that brown warily. "I have a feeling this one'll be trouble." Just a feeling, nothing more. She still glances to the green and the blue, just to make sure they aren't getting into trouble, but her focus always comes back to the brown.

Ananta has to squint to get a better view of Sunni's face. She's familiar enough with her features from the time she stood at Reaches. Turning the pastel sideways she's able to capture the look of concentration.

On the sands, Her movements across the sands may be unsteady, but the Blossoming Bright Apple Green is sure of her choice. The dainty hatchling seems to take more time than her siblings to locate her match, but her large eyes are firmly fixed on a copper-haired tomboy during the entire trek.

Ananta dropped pen.

On the sands, Avey freezes, and stares and stares and stares into the green hatchling's eyes, her mouth gaping open in an expression of stunned delight. After standing there stock-still for what seems like an eternity, she slowly and dreamily reaches out a hand to touch the green. "Leisath," she breathes, and then says aloud, for the candidates' benefit, triumph ringing in her voice, "Her name is Leisath. And she's /not/ clumsy."

On the sands, Following a loud, echoing crack of yet another egg's rupture is a hunkered bronze; left behind in the ruins of the Pants on Fire Egg, he tents his wings above his head with a cowering creel. From behind another boy, M'ljen pushes forward, rushing to the dragonet's side and stooping close to run reassuring hands over the bronze's head. "Riensoth, I'm here! It's okay!"

"ohhhh, shard it!" Down it goes....her only pen. Looking side to side she hopes someone might have something to write with.

On the sands, Sunniva issues a smile to Idraila -- alright over here, don't mind me -- and then it's back to watching and watching and- "Oh! Oh, congratulations! She is lovely, Avey." Even if she did clobber her a good one.

On the sands, Jakkal blinks as suddenly the green's been named. "Condolences, Avey!" he rumbles out happily, though his broad grin may betray his congratulations. Blue and brown then. He nods to himself and skims the Clutch again, just to be sure. "Bronze," he murmurs, giving a glance and a grin to the sire. By the time he's done checking on the other two, the male's found his match. Six eggs, two dangers.

On the sands, Balinne is watching, oh so carefully watching, and after Sunniva is safe and sound and on her feet again, she goes back to walking as well. Thus, fortunately she is right there when the little green Impresses, able to slip in and come to Avey's side without much hassle. "She's beautiful," she tells the new Weyrling, grinning widely. "Let's get her fed..."

On the sands, Liberated Pinstripe Blue's gait evens as he moves, settling into an relaxed amble though the tail twitching behind him belies his outer serenity. The Impression of Riensoth catches his eye and turns him away from a cluster of girls, those Candidates apparently forgotten as he crouches to study his brother. After another moment he moves toward Dora, steps slowing as he approaches the girl.

On the sands, Fayre ohs softly as the bright green heads toward her match, her lips curling into a smile as impression is made. "Oh, good. She finally found someone! An' it only took one knocked over candidate!" She nods curtly, smile growing. "Aye! Some of 'em are a bit odd, too, but I like that. Their clutch has character."

On the sands, Javeri finds the green as the green finds Avey. "Oh, congrats, Avey! She's so pretty!" One down then and she looks away to see what has come next and find the others still seeking someone.

On the sands, Suizen's attention is drawn from the eggs, to Avey's announcement. A bright smile appears, "Congratulations, Avey! And Leisath!

On the sands, Shortly after one particularly violent twitch, the shattering of Traditional Taboos Egg litters the sands with shards and reveals a slender and glistening green, her bright clover tones apparent even under the drip of egg goo. Neraset's squeal of, "Vaylith!" rings loud across the sands as the dainty, methodical dragonet wastes little time in picking through the candidates, and lightly extending her neck to nuzzle the girl's hand.

On the sands, Idraila nods as Avey announces the green's name. Finally. With a quick flash of a smile for her fellow candidate, she moves on to surveying the other hatchlings still wandering, settling into her ritual foot-shifting again.

On the sands, Solla looks to Avey's Impression and beams, though not for long. Another's caught her eye. "Oh, Neraset!" She applauds for this Impression as well, though she cranes to try and find T'mic, smirking a little as he hurries over to escort the new greenpair from the Sands.

On the sands, Sunniva notes the next Impression from her peripheral vision, a smile being spared for the first bronze of the clutch. And then ... "Oh, dear," is at Neraset's call. She can't help but laugh, if only a little. Just a little; can't afford to keep her eyes off the roaming hatchlings for too long.

On the sands, Avey has eyes only for Leisath; it takes a moment for it to register with her that Balinne has spoken, and then belatedly she looks up. "Huh? Oh. Right. Food. Are you hungry?" she asks Leisath, gesturing for the tiny hatchling to follow along with her where Balinne's directing them. She takes a moment to shoot a white-hot dirty look at Jakkal, but she'll have to follow up on that later.

On the sands, Niala shoots Avey a beaming grin. "Oh Avey..." Nothing else needs to be said really, as she turns back to the sands to watch that brown only to be distracted by more egg popping. "They keep coming..." she mutters under her breath as she continues to look from hatchling to hatchling.

Nolee claps as the impressions are made, though she's not even certain for whom she's clapping. "Was that the Crom boy? Jay's, that's all we need. I'd hoped he wouldn't impress, if that was him." Nearby whispering gets her attention. "A girl? Oh. Two girls. Well, not the Crom boy, then. That's good."

On the sands, Reflective Shadow Brown can't deny his movement now, even as awkward as it may be on the sands. His tail slinks through the sand as he continues moving away from his former home and venturing further out toward the candidates. Suddenly, perturbed by something, the hatchling stretches his wings out near a grouping of candidates. In his frustration, the blocky hatchling hasn't noticed that his wingspar has actually swiped Niala, right behind her ear. He once again stares at his wings, creeling in surprise at them. It's almost as if he didn't expect such a thing to happen. He leaves that particular group now. There's a methodical-seeming walk on the sands now as he prowls some distance away. Suddenly, however, he stops. For the moment, he appears absolutely stock still on the sands, just staring at the white-robed figures.

"Yahoo!" screams the old man next to Rhodya, grabbing her arm and shaking it until he's got her - laughingly, tolerantly - excited along with him. "Yahoo!" the two of them repeat, while the old man waves his little hide triumphantly. "There's that bronze!" the man whoops, pulling a crumbly piece of charcoal out of his pocket so he can scratch a few marks on the page. "There he is! Getting on track now, wouldn't ya say?"

On the sands, D'kai can't resist a whoop of congratulations as that green finally makes her choice. "Aav-ey!" He claps his congratulations from the sidelines, beaming proudly even as they pair of them are led away from the sands. "And - there's Neraset, too. With a green. Go figure. Aren't they all just the /best/?"

On the sands, Suizen aws a bit, "And here I was hopin' she'd loose something..." she offers in a quite snipe, before calling out her congratulations to the candidate..

T'rev nods, still watching the sands closely. "Yeah, we'll ... well we'll see if we can ask her later," the bronzerider murmurs to Ella and shifts a little as the fellow in front of them sits up straight and hollers a whoop of jubilation over Neraset's impression. "Huh. Someone's happy," he quips.

On the sands, Jakkal sees another green come and go before he lets his gaze settle on the Fuzzy Soldiers Egg for a moment, blue and brown forgotten. Then he shakes his head, watching the moving dangers once more.

On the sands, Another "OHH," this one rising in tide and volume tells the healers gathered at the sidelines where to look on the sands, and there she is: a girl with a good bit of bleeding from near her ear. "Skin's thin there. Should be all right, if she keeps the whole ear," they can be heard to say, hopeful. Though they're wise: they stay out of the way of dragonets and off of the sands themselves, waiting to tend the girl until there's a break in the activity to do so, as it is better to endanger fewer lives.

On the sands, Niala looks stunned. "I /knew/ that brown would be trouble...one second lapse in attention...shards." She reaches behind her ear, feeling for the scratch. "Oh shells." She's bleeding, but not too much. "Looks like I get another scar for my face!" Brightly, just to let everyone know that she's not hurt bad. Her hand keeps constant pressure on the scratch, to get the bleeding to stop.

On the sands, Javeri catches sight of Niala's close encounter with the brown and focuses on her to be sure that it wasn't too bad. "Are you ok?" she asks anxiously before looking to see if danger's on her trail now. When Niala speaks she gets another look and a smile of relief. "Thank goodness. Things are getting more dangerous now." She hops from one foot to the other and tries to track all the wings and claws and other implements of danger at once.

On the sands, Sunniva shifts her feet, the heat now being such that discrete isn't quite going to cut it. Oh well. There's a quick count of remaining eggs and a glance to the blue before settling on the brown and, oh, did he just- "Niala?" is warily ventured, eyes wide. Her hands fuss a little and she finally clenches them, concerned.

On the sands, Idraila tenses again. With the brown nearing, he gains the bulk of her watchful attention, the blue fading into the background. So she easily sees the ear-swipe as it happens and winces in sympathy. All the more reason to stay on the alert herself.

On the sands, Liberated Pinstripe Blue doesn't find his match in Dora, but he doesn't seem to mind. Niala's bleeding causes him to sit and consider the incident very seriously, his eyes shifting further toward ruby. A black-haired boy takes a hesitant step toward him, but the blue heaves up to his feet and wanders on, not giving the boy even a first look.

On the sands, Jakkal is a breath late to catch the Niala getting hit. "Shards!" he rumbles out, "Are you okay?" He offers a hand to his fellow ex-Stablehand if she needs help keeping steady. At her replies though, he just nods, the worried knot on his face slipping into a small grin of relief. His gaze then moves to track down the brown, blue and five remaining eggs.

On the sands, The next egg to break is the Speckled Shell Egg, unveiling the shrouded green within. She blithely moves among the remaining eggs, eyes half-lidded and head weaving languidly back and forth, and every so often she paused to press the flat of her head against the curve of a shell, communing silently with the occupant within. This carries on until abruptly she turns, pushing up against a dazed candidate. The stars have aligned - it was meant to be.

Fiorella nods, squirming to catch a peek around the man unable to see once again. "Can you tell how many are left?" though its not directed towards anyone in particular. Just a question until she can recount herself.

"I lost count, don't look like many though," T'rev says and winces at the sight of blood. "Ugh, another one is hurt," he murmurs, shaking his head. "Hope she's okay."

Overhearing a comment about somebody being happy, and mistaking that somebody for himself, the old man next to Rhodya twists in his seat and shoots a happy grin T'rev's way. "You bet your skivvies," he responds, exultant. "I'm gonna win a heck of a lot of marks on this hatching, if it keeps going my way like this." He's beaming as he turns around to watch the eggs again, eagerly recording the colors as they come out.

On the sands, Liberated Pinstripe Blue is growing impatient with his quest. He abandons his easygoing amble, and there's sudden purpose in the way he whirls around and stalks back down the line, giving each candidate an increasingly restless but ultimately fruitless look as he passes. Then a doubletake -- what's this? A few bounding steps forward and he's practically sitting on her feet when he finally leans back to meet black-brown eyes.

C'len leans forward in his seat a bit to catch a better view and, spotting the healers looking at one particular candidate, he looks there too--but she seems okay. "Not too bad, so far," he says to Nolee. "Maybe we should have more Fortian dragons visit--"

On the sands, It's only a matter of time before Pale Brown Egg spills not only the beans, but and a skinny and unwieldy blue out on to the sands, too. He flounces and sashays, prancing awkwardly along the row of candidates and earning some timid laughter for his capering antics before Impression is made to an unsuspecting victi- candidate.

On the sands, Javeri stops in the process of wiping sweat from her eyes as suddenly she has to look at something. "Cha-Chadamalith," she repeats with a blossoming grin for the blue dragon nearly on her feet. "Oh. I knew you were the prettiest of them all!" She rubs her stomach over hunger pains not hers and then gets out, "Food first, ok. Yes, sure. That sounds good."

On the sands, Jakkal wipes the sweat from his face with his bare arm then blinks as he spots first a new green than the previously unImpressed blue find their matches. And another blue as well. So many at once just gets the man to nod with a grin, booming out a general "Congratulations!" to the latest trio of Weyrlings. One brown and three eggs then. He can manage this.

On the sands, Suizen looks over at Niala. "I doubt it'll be bein' that bad..." in an attempt to reassure, before sending her gaze back up. Way too many people are getting knocked over, after all. Then she spies the blue, and... Javeri. "Alright, Javeri!"

On the sands, Niala winces a little, removing her hand from her head. Yep, still bleeding. But head wounds do bleed a lot, right. That hand slaps back onto her head, applying even more pressure. "Yep, fine, fine, I'm fine." There's an ever so slight hint of worry in her voice, but that's quickly shaken off as she glances at the sands, looking out for anymore little darlings that might do her harm. "Congrats Javeri. He's darling."

On the sands, Sunniva blinks owlishly when the blue comes to a standstill, then she laughs, seeing who it is. "Oh! Javeri! Well done," she calls, hands clapping together once, delightedly, before hanging at her sides again.

On the sands, The amber luminosity of the Dim Glows Egg splinters into many pale pieces, leaving in its wake a lustrous bronze. The sticky hatching fluids lingers, giving the dragonet a wet, dripping look before he shakes himself all over and the effect disappears - and he wastes no time in proceeding directly towards Harnig, who blinks once in surprise and mutters, "Mloneth? Yeah, of course. C'mon."

On the sands, On his way to the edge of the Sands with the exuberant blue and his partner, T'mic stops at Javeri's side to give her a beam. "Congratulations, you two. Come with us - there's food for him."

"Another one?" Fiorella asks, the man in front of them finally settling back a bit and making it easier for her to see the sands once again. "I hope so." she agrees on the injured being alright.

On the sands, Reflective Shadow Brown has caught the scent again. He's on the move as stumbling paws find sand. Instinctively and with all-encompassing obsession, he prowls forward. It's easy for him now to pick her out among the white robes. Easy. Fluid movements take him to face the young woman with the frizzy haphazard curls, and the bond is made.

On the sands, Javeri has time for a sort of dazed smile at her former fellow candidates before she hears T'mic and nods her head at him before leading her new blue from the sands.

On the sands, Javeri heads toward the weyrling barracks.

On the sands, As H'rig and his new lifemate are led off to food and oil, they pass by the Fuzzy Soldiers Egg, which gives a juddering jolt and is sent marching across the black sand, wobbling from side-to-side as it goes. As it rolls to a stop, a determined talon pokes through, soon followed by a jutting triangular head, and finally a sticky, resolute green. Her mind is made up swiftly: Tosolla is /hers/. Tyalith and Tosolla.

On the sands, Chadamalith heads toward the weyrling barracks.

Ananta remembers, "My hair...I have a pencil in my hair!" She lets down her bun and starts to feverishly draw. Needing to catch up on the latest.

On the sands, Fayre's eyes flick about at very high speeds as she tries to observe absolutely everything that's happening, making her look something like a crazed auntie. "It's even faster than Lieryth's hatching." She smiles as another bronze hatches, noting, "There. That's two, right? Mickey should be proud."

On the sands, Finally, after a long wait - and in fact standing as the very last egg to be still intact on the sands - Not Superstitious Egg splits quite neatly down the middle to expose its secret within: the arched shape of another brown, wings tucked flat against his back. Indolently, the brown stretches his large paws out, shakes his body all over, once, and finally pads away to bump his shoulder into an elated miner from Crom to stamp him as his own. And with that, all that remains are egg shells and white robes. It is over.

And just like that, it's nearly over. Nolee tugs at her clothing, which isn't as nice as perhaps she should've worn, but there's no changing at the moment, so she instead squints at the sands. "Jays." Riding, she tugs C'len along with her, and they head toward the sands.

Nolee heads toward the sands.

On the sands, Nolee arrives from the hatching galleries.

On the sands, Jakkal watches the second bronze and nods as he quickly quickly and surely. Good leadership, that one. Brown finds its match and he nods. Two more eggs, including his favourite. Good sign or bad? He shifts his stance and blinks. Make that one egg. Then none as the final brown finds his match.

On the sands, Idraila sighs as she pauses to deal with the heat again, swiping and shifting. When she glances up again, three more Impressions have been made. The staggering brown is still on the loose, though. She warily backs away from him, but he nears far to quickly for her. Eventually he steps on her foot, just ever so gently, halting her progress and forcing her to look up from the sands she was maneuvering. Eyes squint through the sun, then widen as she emits a low whimper, a hand reaching out to fall alongside his muzzle. A nearby candidate leans in to nudge Idraila with an elbow, prompting her to stammer out his name. "Sivrenth. His name's, um, Sivrenth," she repeats more confidently, before ducking her head and trailing off after her hungry hatchling.

On the sands, T'mic heads toward the weyrling barracks.

On the sands, Two blues, and T'mic's got them both. Balinne just has a wide grin for it before she's distracted by yet another Impression. And she's right there, thank Faranth. "This way," she tells him quietly, flashing a grin towards the bronze and his weyrling. And then Tosolla and her green, too. A handful of 'em! And one more to add to the mix. Sending the green and bronze on their way, Balinne doubles back to Idraila's side, a grin and a cheerful, "Congratulations!" given before she offers, "If you follow me, we can get him settled in."

On the sands, Sunniva leans a little to see Tosolla's Impression, her expression delighted even as her gaze tracks over to yet another Impressee -- "/Oh/. Oh! Congratulations!" is called to Idraila, the young woman's bright smile lingering a beat. It soon falters, then fades, when the last of the eggs hatches and Impresses, leaving only calm, well-schooled, neutrality in its wake. Done.

C'len heads toward the sands.

On the sands, Suizen's rather startled as the last three happen almost on top of another, and there is no more eggs. Idraila gets a starlted 'Congraultaions!', but then the girl is left on the Sands with a few others, looking around rather at a loss.

On the sands, The healers are prepared as the last shells crack and the last of the dragons follow their new lifemates off to the barracks, and the all-clear is given to approach the sands at last, and those on it who might've been injured: Two go toward Niala, another toward Sunniva, each murmuring in soft tones to inquire about their injuries and to apply bandages as needed. A few others move among the white-robed, checking in with each, speaking more softly as the Weyrleaders take to the sands to speak.

On the sands, Nolee nervously approaches the sands and addresses the remaining candidate groupings. "So. Um. Remember all of you were selected to stand here because the dragons saw something special in you. That your dragon was not here today means little in the long run. But a Weyr needs more candidates than eggs to ensure every hatchling can find his or her rider. Each of you has...um, has," She pauses to consult a worn hide in her palm, then continues with a smile, "given us a precious gift," and here the Weyrwoman surveys the white-robed folk, "in permitting us to let our young dragons consider you. We wish only to pay - er, repay you as best we can: with our hospitality, and if you wish it, your new home." She smiles invitingly and offers a gesture of welcoming.

Watching Sunniva's expression, Ananta has just captured an image in her head. It's permanent. A look of defeat? Covered with a polite veneer. No need to watch her any longer. She could finish with her eyes closed.

On the sands, Fayre observes the remaining candidates and begins to chew sadly on her bottom lip. "Oh, I just want to give them all hugs! But they might still be in hatchling dodge defense mode, so maybe I better wait on that. I hope they all stay here though, y'know?"

On the sands, Niala sighs, it's all over. She takes her hand off her ear, checking for blood. The wound is oozing, most of the bleeding stopped. She sighs and gives her friends a brave glance as the healers come her way. She nods at the murmuring, then takes a step back. "Stitches! Surely it doesn't.....Oh fine. Can it wait a while?" She grumbles as she listens to the weyrleaders, moving over towards Jakkal and Sunniva.

On the sands, C'len nods along with Nolee's words, "Indeed, we'd like to thank all of you for choosing to join us as candidates and we hope you've enjoyed your time at Ista. A feast to celebrate the hatching is starting in the caverns, and the kitchens have been cooking for days. If you follow your nose, you'll find your way. We hope you'll all join us!"

On the sands, D'kai exhales slowly once that last egg has burst, running a hand though his hair and turning to watch those last straggling pairs off the sands. "Man. Wow." And then everyone collecting and Nolee's giving her talk and Deke frowns, too, scrubbing at his face. "Awwh, it's a shame. Yeah, maybe better to wait for a bit, huh? Poor guys. I wish they could /all/ Impress."

On the sands, Sunniva shakes her head as the healers approach, murmuring reassurances that she'll be fine, right as rain even. The speech is, of course, heard and nodded to, her smile faint, but still there and quite genuine. "Thank you," is murmured, her voice low, and then she flicks a look over to Niala and then Jakkal. "Shall we?" is asked, head tilted away -- presumably toward where the living caverns are.

On the sands, Suizen shakes her head at the healer who comes over to her, shaking a foot, "Just scorched feet..." she adds with a bit of a smile, before moving towards the other three, "You alright?" she asks in general once she and Niala get closer. A glance to C'len and Nolee is given, then a nod, "It was bein' an honor to stand for Ista, ma'am, sir."

On the sands, Jakkal shakes his head as the Healer comes to him. "Nothing mauled me," he rumbles, a mild quiver in his tone, though he kills that quickly. He stays long enough for the WeyrWoman to give her invitation to those who may remain, and then nods to Niala and Sunniva before striding quickly towards the exit.

Gaelyn heads toward the bowl.

T'rev exhales slowly as it comes to an end. "Well then," he says quietly. "Should we go catch up with Sunni?" he proposes to Ella.

Fiorella sighs as everything comes to an official end with the weyrwoman's announcement. "I guess she wasn't here this time either.." she comments idly, slipping to her feet. "I was just thinking that." she agrees with a nod. "I'm still sad she's not coming back to Fort though.."

On the sands, Sunniva ducks her head and then turns to go, following the other candidates as they filter off the sands and toward food.

On the sands, Nolee nods to Suizen, smiling. "It was ours to have you. Shall we?" She heads off the hot hot sands as soon as she's finished speaking, moving along with a growing crowd toward the main caverns where the meals are being served. C'len whispers something to her, gesturing toward the holder they'd been sitting in front of, and Nolee nods resolutely, the Weyrleaders moving off in different directions. Nolee's takes her toward the scent of food and the gatherings guests therein.

On the sands, Nolee heads toward the weyrleader ledges.

On the sands, Niala gives the weyrleaders what appears to be a sincere smile. "Thank you so much for the hospitality, and for the opportunity to have this experience. You'll probably see me at the stables tomorrow." Another smile, and one of the healers plucks at her robe. "Alright, alright, I'm coming," she grumbles as she follows the healer out towards the infirmary.

Seeing the umimpressed candidates leaving the sands, Ananta stays put, waiting for the crowd to die out. Solitude is better.

Suizen heads toward the bowl.

Fiorella heads toward the bowl.

T'rev heads toward the bowl.

Ananta heads toward the bowl.

On the sands, After a long consultation with one of the healers, C'len finally heads to the living caverns for some refreshment. "Make sure you get something to eat and drink," he calls over to Fayre and D'kai, then adds, "and that your dragons do, too!"

On the sands, At the mention of something to eat - and drink, especially in this heat - D'kai brightens, and waves after the Weyrleader. "I will! We will, sir!" And he's only a few moments after running his hands over his bronze, muttering some delighted conversation, before he, too, is out the door towards the living cavern.

On the sands, Fayre is sharing a few quiet words with Lieryth, murmuring softly as she gently pats the gold's nose, while her other hand rubs across her headknobs. A loud grumble from her stomach interrupts the contemplative mood. "Oh, food! That sounds like a wonderful idea." She grins at the Weyrleader, scooting out towards the caverns as well.