Shadhavarth and Tzettenvonth's Eggs Hatch

Western Weyr - Hatching Sands
A wide, spacious cavern with a high, vaulted ceiling and ledges high above for dragons to perch upon. The pale white sands beneath your feet are uncomfortably warm, although they seem welcoming to dragonkind. Scattered shards remain from past clutches although the current brooding queen usually has a cleared spot for her own clutch. Just up from the sands are the ledges where dragons can land to watch, while along the eastern wall are the galleries for humans to watch.


Lunchtime. Go figure. Shadhavarth has been overly broody these past few days, taking every shake or vibration to mean IT IS TIME. But this time… it really is. By the time Iris gets to the sands, Shadhavarth has alerted Everybody Everywhere and the dragons have picked up the humming. "It *had* to be lunchtime, didn't it love?" She grumbles out loud at her lifemate, but she gives the gold an indulgent pat as she meanders over to the safe spot where the clutchparents and leaders usually watch.

Oh, go figure indeed. At least S'u has been spending the last few days at Western waiting for inevitable, so it isn't straight out of *between* to the Sands. Tzettenvonth is ready, the frothy-bronze having settled over to one side, looming occasionally over the nearest portion of the galleries just for effect, while S'u is picking his own way to the side, awkwardly running a hand through his hair as he glances around.

Naeda takes a couple deep breaths to calm herself before making her way out onto the sands, squeezing Rhysanna's hand for reassurance as she steps out into the heat. Her wide blue eyes immediately sweep over the eggs. "… They look bigger. Are they bigger?" She murmurs, almost stumbling across the sands as she moves to line up and bow to the queen. Yep, she's nervous alright.

Enka's entrance is a grumpy one, the senior weyrwoman looking rather sulky as she makes her way onto the sands, skirting the clutch and ducking her head to stave off the resonating sound of humming. "I /was/ eatin' lunch," she announces as she makes her way to that platform to join Iris. "Had a nice meal all planned, and then Mir had to wake up and try to make me bleed from my ears by hummin' practically in my face." The goldrider makes a faint chuckle, no longer looking quite as put out. "She sends her regards for her grandchildren, but she aint gettin' into the air, bein' as she's so full of eggs to make it to the ledges," she tips her chin upwards, "and doesn't want to waddle on down here."

Short and squat, the Signs of the Seven Egg is there, just waiting for someone to pay attention to it - for someone to truly -look- at it and see it. The odd, pale-blue light seems to grow darker.. was that a wobble, or just an illusion?

Rhysanna's a bit pale, a bit green, a bit unhappy-looking, and moving in a way that suggests she's not presently feeling all that great, but— she's here, and Naeda's hand in hers does seem to be giving her some kind of reassurance. Following the other girl's lead, she makes her bow, and then comes to an uneasy halt, eyes seeking out the eggs one by one. "That one— did it move? They're huge. We're going to get trampled." With her free hand, she pushes hair back from her face, hair that is already trying to escape the bounds she's put upon it.

Naris seems to go just a tad paler as she arrives and takes in another breath. Looks like that coping mechanism might get quite the workout today. Her movements may seem a little jerky as she bows to the queen but bow she does. After all, this is /not/ the time to forgot manners.

Tick-tock, tick-tock. Blossoms of Desire Egg rocks back and forth in its sandy cradle. Back and forth, back aaaand it overshoots a bit, flopping over and rolling a bit on the sands.

Therynn tries to hold her ground as the eager white robes behind her begin to push their way forward. "I'm goin.. I'm goin.." she quips with some quietness as they near the entrance to the sands. It's not like she's dawdling, but she's not bowling over others either. The air burns as it enters her lungs, eyes tearing instantly as an idle hand works to rub away a tear. She gets her wits about her and gives the queen a deep bow. "I think so.." she says to Rhysa about the moving. "That one too!" eyes on Blossoms egg.

Zi'on runs onto the sands, late as usual. He's got a nice big stain down the front of his shirt, and looks grumpier than Enka. "Look! Look what they did to me!" Or what he did to himself, perhaps, after being surprised that the eggs were hatching. Even though they've been due to hatch at any moment. He pulls a napkin out of his pocket and fruitlessly tries to get the stain out of his shirt. Then sighs. "Ah well. At least the eggs look good. Maybe no one will notice."

Scorched From Within Egg thrashes about — for what else could such a violent jerking motion be? No mere wiggling from this egg, no, for the hatchling within wants out, and it wants out NOW.

Naris notices the talk of the eggs moving and manages to do an odd combination of a nod and a shake of her head. "Yes," she mutters, "they're definitely moving. Rolling as well, it looks like." Can eggs be mad? Because the scorched from within looks rather mad to Naris.

Naeda keeps on taking those deep breaths. It's the only way she's going to maintain even a semblance of composure at the moment. "We are not going to get trampled." She assures Rhysanna. "We are going to be calm and alert and nobody is going to get hurt. Say it." Because maybe if Rhysanna says it, Naeda will also believe it. Her eyes dart from egg to egg as they show signs of movement, lingering on Blossoms of Desire in particular. Then the jolt from Scorched From Within practically makes her jump.

Sorel shuffles out onto the sands, lacking a distinct piece of footgear. That's right, he's decided to go barefoot because he's crazy that way. Perhaps the pain distracts from the nervousness. That must be it. He's not holding hand with anyone and he's a little off to the side of the main group, making sure he's not anywhere near Naeda at the very least. A quick bow is given to the parents and then the eggs start moving, showing signs of life and that's when Sorel's gray eyes fixate on those eggs and await the impending chaos.

The Signs of the Seven Egg is truly rocking now, some internal disagreement appearing to take place as the shell shift this way, than that, and small cracks begin to appear upon the surface of the egg, driving rifts between each of the figures upon it.

Rhysanna takes a deep breath. And then another one. She presses her free hand towards her abdomen, then releases it, focusing instead upon the eggs, and the hand that is safely within hers. "Nobody is going to get hurt," she repeats, dutifully. "Shells, they're all moving now. Which one is going to go first?"

Therynn gasps and pulls back from the lineup slightly as on egg whups about. Before she knows it eggs are tumbling and toiling all around her, one begins to crack and eyes go wide. A brief glance is shot Zi'on's direction, and no, she doesn't notice the stain running down front-side, focus is quickly back on the madness beginning to buzz about the sands. "That one.." is said to Rhysa uncertainly about the one with cracks.

One of the more curvy candidates is trying hard to scratch her leg with the top of her sandal. It's clearly not working very well, and finally she succumbs to bending over to scratch the itch. Thankfully it's not a crawlie, just a stray hair or piece of sand that was causing her to itch, so there's no worry about a shrieking candidate on the sands.

Iris offers S'u a welcoming wave when she notices the clutchfather picking his way over, and as Enka arrives, a wry smile as she shares in the disgruntlement over the interrupted meal. "Same here- I spose I should've expected it, the way Shadha's been carrying on the past few days calling me in here every time there's a tiny little wobble. But seems the real thing is happening now." And thank goodness. There is a smile for the candidates, welcoming and reassuring, even though she's safe on a platform and they are about to meet their potential new lifemates.

Such frenzied motion! Enka's gaze draws towards the moving eggs, noting them carefully, brows knitted into thoughtfulness as she surveys the candidates, and then shoots a wry smile towards Iris for a moment. And then there's Zi'on, poor Zi'on with that big food stain on his shirt. "Oh shells," she remarks, "it always seems to happen, doesn't it? We're never ever in any kind of professional lookin' state, are we? Here, let me try." She'll snatch at the napkin, dabbing it on her tongue — ewww, weyrwoman saliva — and then trying to dab at the stain. Well, she's not getting anywhere, is she? "Mmm, yeah, eggs look good. Oh shells, did that girl moon everyone or somethin'?" At least one hopes she was covered up when she bent over.

Naris doesn't seem to be sure of whether she should keep quite for now or not. Either way it doesn't seem to matter for she just can't stop talking right now. "Yeah," she adds, "definitely that one. Or, you know, the one that looked ready to tear through and cause terror amongst us all. But the one all covered in cracks does seem very ready to hatch." Nothing like awkward hatching rambling.

*CRACK* — the sound reverberates through the vicinity as a scrabbling claw punches through the dark shell of Scorched From Within Egg, frenzied motions making the spidery cracks around the puncture wider and wider as the dragonet within all but tries to tear its way out.

Naeda looks from egg to egg as she ponders Rhysanna's question, her eyes still wide and nearly panicked. "Well, I think…" Then there's a claw punching right through the Scorched From Within Egg. "… That one. Definitely that one."

The Signs of the Seven egg has only been upon the Sands for the number of seven-days it has taken to harden, yet suddenly the shell is appearing as it is as ancient as Pern, the surface weak and riddled with holes and cracks. And then, it dissolves all at once, leaving a dark, hooded hatchling in its spot.

Shadow-Hamed Leader of the Lost Bronze Hatchling
Shadow's weight clings to this deep bronze's frame, darkness deepening even the deep tones of his hide, fingers of copper blotted out along his wingsails. The weight of the night gathers most heavily over his flattened muzzle, his sloped headknobs, like a cowl, and setting his faceted eyes alight that much more fully. Body is lean, muscular, and wrapped in hues of rich, dark amber, only the slightest metallic hints peeking through along sides and long tail, giving an insight into his true being.

There's a slight twitch from the Blight Upon the Sands Egg. Ever so slight. Unless one happened to be looking at it at just the right time, there wouldn't be any indication that there was movement at all from it.

Rhysanna's gaze shifts towards the egg Therynn's indicating, and then Naeda, too, her eyes widening with uncertainty. The great cracking sound made by the Scorched From Within Egg has her exhaling uncomfortably. Focusing on that means she misses the hatching of the bronze, though; it's the startled and eager cries of some of the other candidates that has her turning back towards it. "Oh," she says. Dumbly.

Naris finds her eyes drating from egg to egg in the rush to see which would hatch first. Well, the rush between two of the eggs anyway, because not all of them are moving at the moment. But as one finally breaks open to reveal a bronze she sucks in a sharp breath. There is no awkward rambling from her /now/, just a light murmur of, "oh my." That could be… good.

Therynn is definitely in to the quiet and in awe phase, catching sight of the hinged at the hips candidate for a bit of a snicker before the resonance of the breaking egg has her at full attention. The mottled bronze has her smiling for some reason, must be something about a hatchling covered in goo. "Wow.." she says paired with Naris' murmur.

Blossoms of Desire Egg has been still for quite a long while now. It's become one of the more uninteresting eggs on the sand, fading into the backdrop of all the other excitement. Then suddenly the egg jolts forward in the sand an inch or two. Then again. Then again. And then finally the side of the egg gives way to some dragon feet, and the rest of the dragonet within hops out onto the sand.

Dancing Beneath the Aurora Green Hatchling
The sky is most certainly awake as the rich, vibrant colors of the auroras dance gleefully upon the slender shoulders of this small green. A rich, deep pine green, almost velvety in appearance, serves as the perfect backdrop as it drapes over her narrow haunches, winding around each delicate limb, cloaking wing spars and sails in the darkening hue. It is upon this that the heavens awaken in teasing teal and tantalizing turquoise, the near-blue hues dancing in wide, ever-varying ribbons, stretched across her back, across her wings, broken only by the ever-dark line of the ridges upon her back - a line of mountains in the distance. The stars themselves have come out to play, small specks of honeydew tickling her nose - her muzzle short and cute, giving the appearance her large, facetted eyes are even larger than normal, surrounded by the glow of starlight upon her eyeridges.

Naeda actually pouts a little at the first hatchling to appear on the sands. "… He couldn'tve waited just a couple seconds, could he? Had to just burst on out and prove me wrong." She's squeezing Rhysanna's hand even harder now, eyes locked on the hatchling. "He's a handsome one, isn't he?" Then another egg bursts, and her wide blue eyes lock upon the green that emerges. "Oh, wow… and she's beautiful, isn't she?" Her attention is fully stolen.

With the first hatching out, and it being the ever lucky bronze - even if he is rather.. dark and spooky - S'u seems to breathe a sigh of relief, looking a little calmer as he remains on the platform, watching the hatchlings appear below. "Good job Tzett.." He murmurs, the bronze looking rather proud of himself as well as he stretches his muzzle a bit closer to examine his newest offspring.

Shadow-Hamed Leader of the Lost Bronze is suddenly there, amidst the remnants of his shell, shadow amongst the shadows. Slowly, he's on his feet, stalking across the sands, looking for the one - the one who will be the light to his darkness. Passing by a young girl with dark hair, he pauses infront of a young red-head who had earned his reputation as a fighter, but a good musician, over the last sevenday at the Weyr - and who only barely managed to remain a candidate through pure luck. The hatchling hesitates for a moment longer before he's stretching still-damp wings outwards and Maedre, now M'dre, becomes his for eternity, fire fighting against the shadows.

With a triumphant cry the Shadow-Hamed Leader of the Lost Bronze Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Blight Upon the Sands Egg pulsates with the excitement from the sand around it. As the dragon inside it pushes at the shell it bulges ever so slightly this way and that, and spidery cracks form all around the outside.

A slight shiver stirs Descent into Darkness Egg, eddies of sand quivering beneath the base of the ovoid, like some great beast waking to life and beginning to rise rise rise. Another stronger tremor, before it falls still, biding time to wait.

Iris beams when the first dragon to hatch is a bronze. "Aha! A good luck sign! This will be a lucky clutch!" Shadhavarth croons greetings to her darkly handsome son. When the first impression is made, Shadhavarth trumpets pleasure for the new pairing, and Iris grins over at S'u and the weyrleaders. "Guess it's a good thing stuck around!"

Naris goes still as a statue as a green emerges onto the sands. Well, almost, for her eyes do move briefly to glance over at Therynn. But if she is planning to say anything to her it is forgotten with the impression of the bronze. "This is happening," she whispers to herself. Because that's really all she can thing right now.

Zi'on sighs a bit as Enka makes a fuss over his shirt. "I wish I'd had time to change. Is it acceptable to be topless on the sands, do you think? I feel silly." He rubs the back of his neck. "Maybe I should find a place to stash a set of clothes near here…"

Dancing Beneath the Aurora Green Hatchling is free! Look, her wings open! Ooo! And her toes! Look at her toes! She digs them into the sand, without actually moving anywhere. Ahh It feels good! Warm! She likes that! A trill comes from her own throat, and she jumps. Who did that? What was that? Was that me?

Rhysanna didn't need that hand anyway. She has another one - one that is pushing sweat-damp strands of hair away from her forehead, now. "She's beautiful," she confirms, breathless and almost laughing. "Or she will be, anyway. They're a little… I mean, I suppose they're just newly hatched and all." Her breath is caught again as the bronze Impresses, that expression turning awed as M'dre responds. "Maybe she's yours. Or mine."

Scorched From Within Egg can't take much more of this brutal torment, as the hatchling it held all but annihilates the egg. There's a soft chuff sound, and the shell shatters, falling like withered ashes across the body of the hatchling — making it hard to tell where dragonet begins and egg ends.

Vanquisher of the Inferno Brown Hatchling
Burly, buff and bold, of a hue so dark he might as well be black were it not for the faint trace of auburn highlights that dance across the surface of his hide to verify that he is indeed a brown. Even for one so young, he's massive as far as dragons go, with an immensely broad chest, hulking shoulders and meaty haunches. Sienna-touched ebony wraps about a short muzzled face, dollops of cinnamon that speckle across his headknobs and then scatter across the short and stoutly curved neck. Sprouting from his shoulders, tangerine and carbuncle mixes and melds, flares of torchlight that envelop his wide wide wings in conflagration, a pattern which repeats itself down the crooked length of his trunk-like tail.

Therynn is all over the place with excitement and happenings all occurring at once. There's one, then two hatchlings and the bronze passes down the line in shadowy discernment. An Impression is made and she sends M'dre off with a "Congratulations friend!" as the two depart. There's pulsing and a tiny green, the little hatchling trills and scares herself which has Rynn giggling softly as she nods towards Naeda "She is a pretty one.. silly too." A moment of silent stares is is shared with Naris.

And they're off! Sorel's eyes track that bronze as he slowly stalks towards his chosen. At least he knows where he's going, that's always a good thing. Not one of those indecisive hatchlings who doesn't know what's up or down. And then a green is out and digging her feet into the sand. "Speaking of those that are dragging their tails." He makes a clucking noise with his tongue, but there's a smile on his face and his eyes are crinkled with mirth.

Bits and pieces start to crumble away from the Blight Upon the Sands egg. They fall with no rhyme or reason, just here and there crumbling away. Eventually there is not enough structural integrity to keep the beast within chained inside it, and two little dragon wings spring free from each side. A violent shake later, and the entire dragon is visible.

A Hoary Hue of Cold White Blue
This blue will never be called cute, and never be called handsome. A mound of flesh and bone and sinew, this knobby looking creature is flawed with imperfections. Not quite deformed, all the bits and pieces are there in their normal locations, but extra ridges mixed with grayish bits of thicker hide make this blue interesting, if not horrible to look at. Mostly awash in a very pale almost grayish-blue, this blue looks closer to death than to life. A muzzle full of jagged white teeth, set in a mouth that never seems to quite close, leaving these rows of fangs visible. A thin snout leads to small squinted eyes and large headknobs that neither match nor seem to fit the head they're on. A spindly neck with rows of ridges similar to the tips of butcher knives leads down to giant gangly wings. Larger bones than necessary seem to protrude from every side of the wings of this blue, accented by darkened navy outlines and thicker hide at the joints. Limbs that seem to have only the barest amount of musculature needed protrude from the torso of this beast. Spiny and spindly like the rest of him, they, too, are much too large for his size, leading to a gangly walk. Claws of pure bone white sit at the ends of his toes, curled on paws with lumpy knuckles. A long thin tail, perhaps his best feature, floats behind him, naturally curling at the tip.

Naeda is getting rather sweaty in short order herself. The heat of the sands and the panic she's feeling are a bad combination for that. But for once, she's not worried about how she looks. When the first impression happens, she smiles and calls out encouragement for her former fellow candidate. "Woo! Congratulations, Maedre!" But before too long, there are other things to watch. "Oh, look, a brown. Wow. They look so…" She can't even find the words. Her eyes are back on that 'silly' green before too long, watching her trill for the first time. Naeda can't help but giggle. "She's adorable."

Enka fusses, because she's the 'mother of the Weyr' and that's just something she's got to do. Even if it means she can't get an impossible stain out, at least she's going to try. "Bronze first!" yes, that's indeed a good sign. "Looks like it'll be a great clutch, Iris." Zi'on gets a look. "No, no, no, no takin' your shirt off in front of everyone. Besides, what if a hatchlin' decided shirtless Weyrleader was on the menu?" Some puny little platform won't stop him. Or her. "Lots of dark lookin' ones this batch." that brown is noted. And there's a blue now too.

Naris gives a slight smile at the antics of the green, although she soon finds herself gasping at the hatching of the brown. By the time the blue hatches she looks like she may be about to start shaking. "This is… quite a good way to develop nervousness," she finds herself murmuring to Therynn. "I do wonder who she'll impress to, though."

Dancing Beneath the Aurora Green Hatchling has dug her toes in the sand long enough. Ooh! Look at all these candidates! And they're all here to watch her! She daintily saunters over to the rows of candidates, only making one false step in a slight ditch (no one saw that). Sorel is the first candidate she spots. Ooh, he looks good! Strong back, grumpy face. Well, okay, maybe too grumpy. Then it's on to little Timmy. Hm. Maybe not. A little too little. Okay, let's try the girls, maybe? A sort of girl is looked over. Hm. Not quite Needs to be more girly.

Just a bit of a wobble. Maybe another one, to follow up. The Carry On My Wayward Egg shifts in place, a thin web of fractures starting to spread across the shell.

Rhysanna can't keep up, her eyes hastily moving from one hatchling to the next; she doesn't seem to know where to look. "Oh, that green looked at—" But she's moved on from Sorel, and so does this dark-haired candidate's attention. She shifts from one foot to the other, biting down hard on her lower lip.

Descent into Darkness Egg rocks sharply — first one way, then the next. There's no stopping it now, the dragonet within has been confined for far too long, and freedom is sought. A sharp crack can be heard, pieces of the shell flaking away to litter the sand beneath the egg with shards of darkness.

Zi'on turns his nose up at the latest blue to pop free. "Weird lookin' one, that is." He turns back to Enka then with a pout. "Why would a hatchling come over here at all? Let alone for a meal?" A hatchling with a taste for human flesh? Never! That stain is pretty stubborn, though. Zi'on might have to throw that shirt out. "Bronze out first though, that's always good news. Four more months of summer! That's what it means, right?" He's joking of course. That would be a long summer.

Therynn takes a deep breath, reaching gently for Naris' hand if she'll take it while sharing the exact same sentiment "Me too.." A rush of emotions has overcome the huntress and now, unlike ever before, that soul tug of uncertainty overwhelms her. Now is no time for self-reflection of wants, but she really is wondering how she got here in the first place. Tiny green saunters by, and she's actually finding the little hatchling rather cute unlike ideas expressed about them in the past.

Vanquisher of the Inferno Brown Hatchling rises forebodingly from amongst the scattered shards of his egg, drawing himself up to his full height — which for a dragon newly hatched might yet be small in stature compared to his future — and stalks forwards across the sands. His choice must be made, a partner chosen amongst those white-robed souls gathered for his — surely not his alone — perusal. Moving with an easy stride, one taloned paw placed before the other, he wends and winds his way amongst them, nosing at one here, lingering long to contemplate one of the female candidates. But no, neither might be his choice, for it has settled instead on the blonde haired Arrandante, a candidate from the scorching deserts of Igen. And thus the brown moves forth, coming to a stop before the candidate, trying to loom over him — and failing — before the blonde reaches out, seeming to subdue his new found friend. "Yes, Beriaruth, we will get you some food." the young man, now known as D'nte, agrees, waiting as an assistant weyrlingmaster approaches them to lead them off the sands.

With a triumphant cry the Vanquisher of the Inferno Brown Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Naeda watches the green fairly closely, though she's at least polite enough to ignore the stumbling. Hey, she was a lot less graceful than that when she was minutes old, after all. "Sorel? On a green?" The idea seems to draw a little grin from her, briefly, but she seems unsurprised when the dragon moves on. Her attention is stolen for a moment by the appearance of the latest hatchling. "Oooh. A blue. Quite a variety in this one."

Dancing Beneath the Aurora Green Hatchling is starting to get a little nervous. Her tail twitches in the sand. Where is her rider? What if he isn't here? What if she's hiding someplace? She moves over to examine a couple of dark haired candidates. Who are these girls? Too dark. Much too dark. No. She needs someone lighter. Light like the sun! She slides over just a smidge, raising up on her hide legs just slightly to put her nose in the face of one of the candidates.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Dancing Beneath the Aurora Green Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Sorel isn't grumpy! He's just.. okay, he's grumpy. But yes, at least he has a strong back. Apparently that's something a hatchling looks at. Who knew! The seacrafter gives her a smirk as she makes her way on, "She is a cutie though." He'll give her that. And then his feet are starting to burn and he starts the oh so famous sand dance of hopping from foot to foot. And then the brown is impressing and he gives a bit of a cheer, because hey, those male candidates have to stick together, right. "Grats!" is offered with a fistpump at D'nte.

Iris snorts at the comment from Zi'on, amused. "Four more months of summer?" There's a laugh. "Is it ever *not* summer here?" Truly, the island weyr is blessed mighty fine weather nearly year round. But really, her attention is more on the hatchlings than on the weyrleaders comments, and she grins as nearly all colours have found their way onto the sands now. "Almost a full rainbow this clutch!"

Enka would throw up her hands, except she has a napkin in one fist, and well, it just looks strange to be throwing linen around. "I'm just sayin', keep your shirt on," she chides at Zi'on. "Everyone's watchin'." But they're not /really/ watching the platform are they? "Four more months of summer? That'd be nice. Long and hot, and sunny, but nice. Wonder what it'd mean if a green hatched first."

Naeda's briefly wandering attention is suddenly snapped back as she ends up face to face with the little green. Her expression goes utterly blank as she locks eyes with the hatchling, her jaw dropping as she is completely silent for a moment. Then, after the shock, confusion, and surprise fade, her lips curl up into a delighted smile. "K… Kaiath?" She gives Rhysanna a quick glance and an almost apologetic smile as she withdraws her hand, throwing both arms around her new lifemate. "Yes, yes, I'm Nae. It's so, so, nice to meet you… let's get you some food!" She laughs, delighted, as she tries to guide her new partner towards the exit tunnel and waiting meal.

Naris does indeed accept Therynn's hand and actually seems to relax a bit once her fingers are twined with those of the other candidate. She tracks the progress of the hatcchlings with her eyes, the green just a bit more than the blue. And when she manages to find her bonded? The candidate's jaw drops and she allows herself an excited gasp. There's someone that she'll have to congratulate later. Although… on second thought Naris throws later aside, moving ahead of herself to call, "congratulations!"

A Hoary Hue of Cold White Blue skitters his way across the sands and into the crowd. He weaves through the candidates, pushing through some of those standing close, or holding onto one another. A tall girl is looked over for a long while, then a shorter girl. Both are dismissed. An older male candidate is then examined, and he too is shoved aside. Those in the back can't escape the looking over, either. The blue then zeroes in on one candidate. A younger male candidate. There's no stopping the blue, and a few candidates are knocked aside as the young dragon pushes his face into that of little Timmy, the flirty little crybaby from candidate island. "Oh I I dunno. Oh, me? I'm T'mah? Oh, well, okay then, Dumath. Yes we certainly are hungry, let's let's go get you something to eat."

With a triumphant cry the A Hoary Hue of Cold White Blue has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Derektor fidgets from his spot on the sands. The Starcrafter, also native to Igen, had been standing near Arrandante, and when the brown chooses his friend, the gangly young man jumps away, though he's calling an approving congratulations even as he does so. Glancing around, he inches towards Sorel. Yes. Menfolk candidates must stick together while they await their fate.

Rhysanna is just opening her mouth to say something more when that green approaches, and though her eyes light, hopeful and eager, it's not to her that the green finally looks. For Naeda, though, she has only a beaming, brilliant smile: "Nae. She's beautiful." This time, there is a tear. Maybe even a couple, for all that she's lost her handholding partner and is now… all alone.

It's a story for the ages, how more shards of shell begin to peel away, the renewed frenzy of violent conflict within the egg signals the desperate escape attempts of the young creature it holds within that inky prison, for it its not yet time to reveal the prize. For only when the battle betwixt egg without and hatchling within has been fought to its bittersweet conclusion as Descent into Darkness Egg gives up the struggle, the dark shell of the egg falling away at last to reveal the splendor of the dragonet within.

Crowned With Smoke and Fire Gold Hatchling
As if molten sunlight were poured into form and being, the faint gleam of frosted gold clings briefly to the edges of her extremities — the very tip of her robust muzzle, the rounded curve of shoulder and haunch and the end of her tail — a pallor of ice that warms swiftly into the warm aureate flush of gilded magnificence. At very first glance, there's nothing angular or sharp about her, for she is all smooth rounded angles, broad of forehead and jowl, a proud arching neck and the curvaceous sinuousness of her belly and hips that dip downwards into an elegantly rounded tail. About rounded headknobs, wreaths of dusky smokey-gold twine, a crown that weaves unerringly before a daring plunge along the arch of her neck wherein they disappear. Her wings, broad and strong, are touched with amber, deep warm gold overshot with flickers of apricot and skeins of brimstone — bursts of dragonfire etched into the very fiber of those near-translucent wingsails.

Therynn is so excited to see her friend Impress, shooting Nae a beaming smile and a "Congrats! I knew she was out there waiting for you.." as they depart. For now, all attentions are back on Naris and consequently the arrival of molten hued Golden hatchling. Fingers entwine and now she's gripping tight, something about the shininess creating some sort of effect. Eyes waver between the blue and the other little ones about, leaning in towards Naris a bit, amazed by the sights before her eyes.

The tiny network of fractures spreading across the Carry on My Wayward Egg becomes more prominent as the egg's occupant makes a valiant effort to become free. But it just results in the egg toppling sideways, the landing kept gentle by the sand mounded up around the egg's base.

Naris absolutely beams for a moment, thrilled beyond belief that her friend has impressed. Then there is another egg hatching, one that demands attention as the shell flakes apart to reveal a gold. There is no sudden gasp this time, perhaps her shock has caused the noise to get caught within her throat. That is not to say that there is no reaction though. Her eyes dart across the sands every now and then only to return to the gold and her grip of Therynn's hand tightens. "We're in this together," she murmurs to the girl.

Rhysanna's hands twine together behind her back, as if she finds comfort in holding something, even if it's not someone else's hands. She misses the hatching of the gold, so focused on watching Naeda and her green go; it's probably a good thing there are no other hatchlings nearby, really, given how little attention she's paying. Her expression is wistful - wistful and hopeful, and shading rapidly towards wide-eyed all over again when she turns back and finds this latest hatchling. She looks abruptly away, seeking out other eggs to stare at, hopefully.

"Hey, there." Sorel offers to Derektor as he catches the movement out of the corner of his eye. A hand is raised in a bit of a wave before the flash of gold catches his attention and his head swings towards the arrival of Western's newest queen. "Guess that bronze hatching first was a good sign." There's definitely a bit of pride in his smile because hey, it's his brother's weyrmate's dragon's.. baby.. yup.

And then there was a full rainbow. Iris gapes at the golden hatchling for a moment before she's beaming with glee. Shadhavarth may have greeted each youngster with a croon, but as she rumbles to the little queenlet, the motherly pride cuts through in welcoming her first golden daughter into the world. Iris shares a glance with Enka, a Very Meaningful Glance, eyebrows waggling. "Let's hope, eh!" Hope for Not Another Liora.

Therynn isn't quite sure how in this moment she and Naris ended up clinging to each other, a sideways glance of support will also be sent to Rhysa should they catch sight of each other while sending Nae off with well wishes. There's a nod and smile of reassurance with Naris as she responds softly "In it together.." is agreed, still in awe of the tiny new queen and the whole experience in general.

Enka's hands beat a staccato flurry of applause as the golden youngster makes her entrance into the world. "Now /that/," she declares "is a sight for sore eyes. Oh well done, Iris and Shadhavarth" The first queen hatched at the Weyr in quite some time. "Shells, I'll be on tenterhooks and holdin' my breath till she chooses. I'm hopin' and I'm hopin'." the last thing anyone's going to need is a repeat of the /last/ time a gold was impressed at the Weyr. Another Liora. Perish the thought!

Crowned With Smoke and Fire Gold Hatchling shrugs free of the shards of her egg as if shrugging off a cloak, stepping out onto the sands before her to leave the remains of the prison that had held her confined for so so long. Lifting her head, she surveys the candidates assembled before her, a regal poise of promise and greatness emblazoned there in her glorious splendor. And then, she gambols forwards, a child's whimsy, her clawed feet churning over sand in brief eagerness. There is one here, one for her, and she must find her. It was meant to be!

Petrified in Time Egg wiggles on the sands, then settles down amongst the shells once more.

Naris squeezes Therynn's hand briefly when her thought is echoed. Maybe it is odd that two girls who didn't really get along find themselves clinging to eachother at the hatching. But then again this sort of thing tends to bring people together. For a brief moment her eyes flicker over to Rhysanna and she gives the girl a brief nod. Maybe good luck, maybe that apology has finally come. Whatever it is it is only for a short moment before she is looking back out on the sands.

The sideways topple may not have broken the Carry On My Wayward Egg in some magnificent burst of eggshell and goo… but it did serve to weaken considerably the already fractured shell walls, and presently, a dainty green muzzle pokes its way through. Just for a moment! The muzzle pulls back in though, and close observers might notice a whirling dragon's eye peering through the hole left behind. The eye retreats, and tiny claws tear at the opening. Once it gets just big enough for a whole hatchling's head, a pretty green face pushes through, and those claws tear downward at the same time. And, all at once, the shell surrounding the intrepid green falls away, bits of shell and goo sticking to her body even as they fall to the sand at her feet. And there she stands, looking for all the world rather shocked at the whole process.

Lost Gone Found Green Hatchling
Spring's first leaves drape across a delicate frame, the pale greens dappled as though by the morning sunlight. Honeyed dewdrops freckle from her chiseled muzzle and proud cheeks, and darken over her headknobs. Her lithe, sinuous neck is soft green, the shade giving way to the slightly darker, dappled moss green which covers much of her narrow chest and body. Her back is much brighter, touched more strongly by sunshine such that the bright light filters the mossy hue to chartreuse along her shoulders. The shades lighten more still across her fragile wingsails. Tones of honey-gold filter the nearly-transparent wings, promising to catch the true sun's light beautifully. The shade darkens towards the base of her wings, and dapples of honey gold and chartreuse filter down her legs and towards her tail. Clouds of spring green float down that long, whippy tail, while shadows darken into forest green along its underside.

Rhysanna does catch Therynn's glance, and smiles in reply; she even smiles in Naris' direction, if only for a moment, as if to prove that in a hatching, everyone really can be friends. Probably. It's a tight smile, though, and that has nothing to do with anyone in particular: it's the same when she turns her attention back to the sands, though it lights, briefly, at the arrival of that newest green. She shifts her feet, takes in a deep, quavering breath, and focuses intently.

Vibrates? No. Purring? NO. Feline Familiar Egg has wiggled once already! IT WAS AWEFUL.

Therynn takes a few deep breaths, ignoring the inner panic that wants to squeeze eyelids shut and go running for the hills. The wily huntress isn't really cut out for this kinda stuff. But she's made an agreement and wouldn't leave Naris, even if their bond development was definitely late to bloom. Another green arrives, and she actually finds herself smiling, even if partially in response to the shared moment with Rhysanna. Nae would be so proud to see all of them now!

Crowned With Smoke and Fire Gold Hatchling is but a young and newly hatched dragonchild, fresh from the egg and still unknowing to this world. A brief respite of playtime, of being the youngster she is as she paces over the sand, before she draws herself to a stop. There's a moment when she stands before them all, pausing to look first towards sire, and dam, and then towards the white-robed forms of the candidates. Everyone is watching, looking, waiting. This is her moment, and there is little time to spare. But no, she'll not run headlong with heedless needy passion to choose, her choice must be one of calm, not revealing of herself — steady and purposeful without the need for emotional outpouring. She will choose, and so she walks forwards, moving towards the candidates to pick her lifemate.

Petrified in Time Egg suddenly jerks! Small cracks begin to reach across the shell of this egg, then they slowly stop and all is still.

Naris manages to grin. Okay, maybe it's a little tense, not exactly a wild-and-free look, but it's something. Not only is she standing with Therynn but the moment of civility with Rhysanna is noted. Maybe things can get better with her after all? Only time will tell. The hatching of the green jerks her attention away of course and soon enough her gaze is dancing between the two hatchlings.

For several long moments, the Lost Gone Found Green Hatchling remains frozen, blinking and surprised at the predicament of being alive, and being free from the shell she had been inside for so long. Perhaps a bit overwhelmed, she finally stumbles forward, shaking her wings as she goes. Oh dear princess, so awkward! She trips over those ungainly wings, and there is a small squeak of alarm. But she does eventually right herself, and her golden sister catches her gaze. Whirling eyes follow the gold's movements, and she attempts to copy her sister's purposeful motion toward the candidates. Not that she's actually noticed *them* yet.

And there's another green. "Hey Iris, is your dragon trying to repopulate the female population at Western?" Sorel's laughing again at the percentage of males verses females for Shadhavarth's clutch. Or is he the only one that notices the distinct one-sidedness of how things have gone thus far. That little gold's trek is watched, eyed before another burst of laughter escapes as her green sibling attempts to mimic her.

Nothing But the Rain Egg wibbles left! NO, it wiggles RIGHT! NO. IT WIGGLES LEF-RIGHT. YES. Then it settles down. Thats enough wiggling for now.

Iris does not miss the laugh ringing out from across the sands, and there is juuuust the slightest eye roll for her beloved's brother. But it is an indulgent eye roll, for her expression is happy. The clutch is so beautiful so far. "If it's needed!" she calls back.

Rhysanna releases her hands, again pressing one of them to her middle, albeit in a distracted kind of way. Sweat drips down her face, sticking her hair to her forehead despite her best efforts, and leaving her looking worse than ever; so pale and wan. But she lifts her chin, sucking in a deep breath, and swallows. There are still eggs; there are still hatchlings. All is not lost, even if Naeda is.

Derektor snorts at Sorel's comment to the clutch's mother, restraining his own laughter. "Guess after Liora's failure, mebbe we need it eh?"

Therynn snickers and looks slyly towards Sorel with a bit of a smirk. She is almost swirling about as she watches everything as if it is going in slow motion, giving Naris another solid squeeze as they stand there together. Some shifting is in store. Man, when did it get so hot in her she wonders.

There is another shake of the Petrified in Time Egg, and then the shell breaks away, far more silently than one would expect for its violent movement. The fallen remnants of shell reveal an egg wet hatchling covering its face with its wings. There it stands, still as a statue, for a very long moment.

Feline Familiar Egg doesnt crack for you, it cracks against you. Watch it crack and DESPAIR.

Whatever You Do, Don't Blink Blue Hatchling
This hatchling could only be described as perfect: its existence carved from the coldest steel blue marble from the broad chest and powerful wings down to strong hind limbs and long whip like tail. Flecks of mossy green freckle across the wide maw of this dragonet, trickling down his slender neck where they seem to vanish on his underside. The same mossy hues climb up talons, pooling between this blues cold grasp. The sails of large flowing wings are chiseled from the same steel blue, flawless as theyre folded at his side. Despite being average and well proportioned, this hatchling appears as though he was created as a reminder to all what beauty can emerge from stone.

Enka manages a soft chuckle at the question called out to her junior, bending towards Iris to whisper sotto voce. "Mir certainly hasn't been helpin', her clutches have been so largely tilted towards the male end of the spectrum. So that's two greens and a gold thus far, mighty fine clutch indeed."

Iris leans in to hear what Enka whispers, and she grins in response. "And this gold certainly *looks* promising. Purposeful." Still, she holds up crossed fingers in a 'let's hope for the best luck' sign.

Nothing But the Rain Egg vibrates as a single crack begins to form across the circumference of the shell. YOU DIDNT SEE THAT. YOU SAW NOTHING.

Naris blinks at the sudden laughter from Sorel and the exchange between himself and Iris? She glances in his direction for the moment with surprise on her face, probably wondering how he can be relaxeed enough to joke right now. But her attention soon shifts away from him. Focus on the eggs, focus on the dragonets, and focus on Therynn. That's what she needs to do right now. Naris takes in a deep breath.

Crowned With Smoke and Fire Gold Hatchling paces steady through the candidates, moving with measured tread. The boys … she ignores, for that's just not done, you see, but the girls. Oh they get her undivided attention. Each one is surveyed, searched, looked at as she seeks to find within herself that spark that drew her — that one she must nurture and control, guide and teach. And then — she has found her, that one with darkened hair and sunwarmed skin. Yes, she is the one. And with grace and poise, and promise of greatness the young gold moves to present herself to her chosen.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Crowned With Smoke and Fire Gold Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

"Just remember who they're gunna be blaming in about two turns when they all go proddy at once." Sorel crows with a shake of his head. Because he will be in a hole, hiding somewhere when that happens. Proddy riders scare him. Especially proddy females ones. "I suppose we do. Liora was a nut job to say the least." And at least Naeda already impressed 'cause her on gold would definitely have had him running for the hills. A grin is flashed Therynn-wards at her snicker before he winks playfully at her. "Someone's gotta think about these things, right?"

Nothing But the Rain Egg breaks free into two clean pieces, revealing an egg-wet hatchling! Wait, where is everyone? WHY AM I WEARING A HELMET?

A Smooth and Criminal Bronze Hatchling
It seems the pinnacle of draconic form has been forgotten by mother nature, herself. So forgotten in this creatures making, one would wonder if this hatchling is nothing more than a practical joke gone awry. Small and rather lanky, this dragonet appears to be undercooked: limbs are a little bit on the stringy side, muscle only making enough of an appearance to dictate how this pathetic thing moves by it's own strength, long wings poorly paired with short sails, tiny eyes and a short stubby curled tail… The only thing making up for the mockery of this poor creature is the burst of molten bronze coating it's smooth hide. Olivine fire coat the entirety of this young dragonet, setting wings to the very tips aflame, sparking the faintest flecks of gold across sails of the same olive hues. From the tip of his snout traveling between wide set eyes and head knobs, engulfing neck ridges down to the curled tip of this young hatchlings tail glows bright flares of flowing rich copper. The finishing touch on this paradox of a creature are powerful talons dipped in molten gold, as though the creature emerged from the very flames of which he was forged on his own strength.

Therynn is all about that deep breathing thing, silent moments shared in the ether between she and Naris, as well ass refraining from giggles in reference to Sorel's banter. Unlike her nature, a wink is sent back his direction with a nod and shrug as if to agree someone's gotta think about it. Then it seems the gold is surveying the scene, and this time, eyes do snap shut as she passes by. When she's certain the tiny queen is gone, she's looking out again, silently snickering at the bronze with the shell helmet.

The statuesque blue hatchling finally breaks into motion, the moment he believes himself to be unobserved. The moment is swift, a violent shaking to remove the egg from his body. There is some forward motion at the same time and his handsome, chiseled face is revealed for a moment, but then he stops still again, wings coming forward for him to hide behind.

Naris says nothing as the gold impresses, sends no congratulations to her rider. But then again considering who she impressed to and the candidate's feelings toward that particular girl this may not be a surprise. Instead she squeezes Therynn's hand and continues to look out at the sands.

Rhysanna is not oblivious to the approach of that golden dragon to her part of the sands; by the time the young dragon is getting anywhere near, there's no way for her to miss it, and she tracks her, expression increasingly stricken. Both arms wrap protectively around her waist, holding tighter and tighter until - as she gasps - they loosen all at once, loosen to reach out and touch the dragon in front of her. She was stricken, but now she's not: now there's nothing but her hand on a headknob and, after a desperate swallow, "Tavehtiath. You're… You're Tavehtiath."

Within the crowd of candidates, Derektor fidgets. He's not holding anyone's hand, and he doesn't appear particularly concerned about the dragonets rushing about finding their lifemates. Perhaps the scientist within him is simply too fascinated. The gangly young Starcrafter-turned candidate does lean over to Sorel to comment on the newly hatched blue and bronze. "Not what we expected to come out of either egg, y'think?"

The Lost Gone Found Hatchling seems almost startled when her gold sister starts approaching the candidates and pacing through them. The little green trails behind, now peering at Those White Things. Strange, odd creatures that stare at her when she wanders by. She follows her sister's example, though, and perhaps during this observation learning process she's realized that she's actually looking for something. There's a hunger growing, and a need to find someone special. There's Somebody In This Room. She circles, frustrated, and meanders back towards the cluster of girls where the gold had chosen her lifemate.

Akyla moves in, approaching the Weyr's newest goldrider, gesturing towards Rhysanna. "This way," she indicates the direction where the trestle tables of meat will have been laid out, prepared for the moment.

A Smooth and Criminal Bronze Hatchling makes a little bit of a stumble here, a little bit of a stumble there… WHAT ARE THESE LEG THINGS? They are /brilliant/, and /evil/. Now if only he could figure out how to… oh, oh /yes/. There they go. Do his evil bidding, feet-things! Make the one laughing pay! Or not. He can't seem to properly head in that direction. Egg-helmet in tow, clumsy feet at the ready, he prowls about the sands looking candidates over and seemingly finding no interest in them. None of them seem to be what he's after; he needs the ultimate treasure, and he knows that it's hidden here somewhere.

Moment by moment, the Whatever You Do, Don't Blink Blue Hatchling seems to be frozen in place, wings hiding his face. But ever so slowly, he has been parting those wings and peering out at the sea of sand and white candidates. Whirling baby eyes have been calculating, staring down each and every candidate from afar. Then, the youngster is no longer waiting to be unobserved. It lurches forward. Ungainly, awkward are these first uses of limbs. But he moves forth steadily and with certainty, until he is stopping abruptly in front of the tall Starcrafter with the mop of brown hair. The wings are down, not hiding his face as he stares with a hungry, whirling gaze. Derektor, for his part, is startled when the blue approaches, but his surprise does not last long. Rather, his expression breaks into a wide, toothy grin of acceptance. The blue lunges forward then, burying its face into D'ctor's robes. "Sparrolth, hey there my friend, you don't need to eat me, I'll get you food now!" And off the happy new pair goes, ready for a brave new world of adventure.

Sorel is a little disappointed he didn't get more of a reaction from Therynn, but he lets the moment pass easily enough. It's Derektor that captures his attention though as he leans closer, and Sorel hunkers over a bit, a rather shiteating grin on his face. "I guess more greens, because why not, she's already on a roll right? Why break the trend." And then Rhysanna has impressed the gold and he's not sure if he's happy or not, about this. At least Zi'on will stop sniffing around Kiltara, if he's lucky. "Grats Rhys and.. Tav.." The seacrafter gives up attempting to pronounce that.

With a triumphant cry the Whatever You Do, Don't Blink Blue Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Feline Familiar Egg has had enough of this nonsense and shatters into pieces, revealing an eggwet hatchling!

I Know What You Want Brown Hatchling
Cordovan engulfs this young dragonet hide, allowing no gentle light to peer through this darkness save for faint mahogany blushing that dares blend through the underside, freckles lay scattered across his broad chest and muscular limbs. This same gentle mottling dares to emerge over his muzzle, adding a faint glow to his faceted eyes. Talons are devoured as ruddy waves clash upward before blending into a defiant cascade of rich earthen hues, splashing over broad shoulders and clinging to this browns wing sails. Upon these sails melts dirty sanguine tones, seeking out the reaching wisps of rusty tendrils that bleed through tawny shores underneath. His features are average in every respect; his form is none too slim yet robust and strong, the exception alone of large wings, which are slightly longer in proportion to his frame.

Rhysanna takes several seconds, perhaps even more than several seconds, to properly register Akyla's presence beside her. Her head lifts, those eyes so wide and overwhelmed, something in them suggesting that she's really not sure if she can look away for long. "Oh," she says. "Of course." Her hand is still on Tavehtiath as she leads the dragon towards those tables; it's probably not moving away any time soon.

Naris sucks in another deep breath, eyes zeroing in on the green now. The candidate's face has gone pale and she doesn't spend much time looking at the various eggs that remain. Well, eggs and hatchlings. It doesn't seem like there are many left after all and of those that are one is a bronze. A bronze that /definitely/ won't be chosing her. Would she be able to handle being left standing again? Only time will tell, although there's a chance that it won't need to. Two tiny chances.

Therynn is definitely giggling at the not so smooth bronze, but figures she should shut her trap out of respect and the fact he'd have no interest in her even if a bit manly. She does so by refocusing on finger-laced connection with Naris. She can feel what she feels in this moment, squeezing back, and breifly thinking that maybe connecting so truly and deeply with others isn't the worst thing after all. A smile is sent towards the gold pair and the blue Impression made nearby as well.

The Lost Gone Found Green Hatchling pauses partway towards that cluster of girls. She watches her siblings move. The bronze catches her eyes now, and there's a bit of a surprised and confused sound as she observes his… rather ungraceful movement. And then she approaches the girls, close now, delicate dappled muzzle sniffing at their robes. Someone here. Someone here must be the right one.

Zi'on has been rather quiet since the gold was hatching. Now he's just a big mountain of silence since the gold has gone off with Rhysanna. He looks to Iris and Enka like… did that just happen? "Well, at least we know we don't have a second Liora…"

A Smooth and Criminal Bronze Hatchling seems to have found somebody! He moves along the remaining line of candidates low to the ground, as if sneaking about in search of the perfect /one/. His sister? Regarded with as much sauveness as a baby dragon can muster. Heeey girl. Speaking of girls, he pauses near a one, takes a whiff, and sneezes. Eugh. Evil, but not the right kind of evil. /Definitely/ not that one. He moves a little further down the line, head tilting to one side when he passes Therynn, and then he moves on. False alarm. There's nobody here /evil/ enough to be his, and certainly nobody shiny enough.

Enka's expression is thoughtful as she regards the impression of the gold. "Well," the weyrwoman remarks at last, "at least she chose a sensible girl, which is far far better than choosing a foolish dimglow like Liora. At least we can hope that there won't be any repeat offenses." Fine thing to say, considering the particular goldrider in question is still currently locked up in the loony bin of the infirmary. "Shells, I /am/ going to have to deal with that soon. Mir says Orraeloth has been more lucid than not of late. But at least there's another gold for us now." Thank goodness.

Naris glances at Therynn at the sound of her giggling, not a disapproving glance though, more around the lines of a surprised one. Shards, is she the most tense one on the sands? Right about now it sure seems like it is. The for-now candidate shakes her head before whispering, "good luck." After all, only two dragonets capable of impressing girls remains. And one of them… is sniffing at the robes of the candidates? Naris can't help but raise an eyebrow at the candidate. Well now, that's interesting.

A Smooth and Criminal Bronze Hatchling can feel himself getting nearer to his treasure. There's a pull in this direction - or wait, is it that way? He turns around with haste, shaking his head to rid himself of egg-helmet, and stops next to the one candidate who seems to want to be here the least. Just like him! Grumpy face, check. Ready for evil? Check, check, check! The grey eyed candidate is studied intently, accompanying his trill of excitment. Oh, oh yes. You will do! You will most certainly do!

With a triumphant cry it seems that the A Smooth and Criminal Bronze Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!
Therynn stands there frozen in time when face to face with the tiny bronze, not that there's a chance on Pern, but this tiny exploring thing, and the whole experience really has sparked something serious and transitionary in Therynn. She didn't giggle for too long, sparing Naris having to give a little tug of shushing which would not be out of line. "You too.." she says, watching with excitement as an Impression is made by the little bronze, with glee she says "Congratulations!"

Don't be lonely! The Lost Gone Found Green Hatchling deposits herself in front of that girl with the black hair, just a moment after sniffing her robes. Whirling eyes peer up at the girl, wings raised hopefully as her gaze fixes on pale blue eyes. You. You'll do.

Therynn realizes perspective is everything, and that the bronze is far from tiny except when compared to full grown, and that he and his new mate are in motion for some serious life changes, for better and for worse, in this together. A sidewards glance is shot towards Naris, it's really boiling down to the end of this chapter, and she's muddled inside. While there would be a serious sense of relief when able to return to normal life, but as Naris and Sorel both Impress, she realizes that while very excited to figure herself out, and definitely not ready for the task of caring for a hatchling, that there's something to this lifemate thing afterall, and a small sense of longing begins to blossom in her heart for the first time ever.

Sorel missed the bronze's antics with his little conversation with Derektor, but how can one miss a dragon walking around wearing a shell like a hat. "I wonder if he realizes that that's not how you're supposed to wear shells. It needs to be tilted over his eye a bit, it give him a bit more style." Yes, because Sorel knows oh so much about style when he pretty much wears the same thing every day. And he's the one wearing a glorified tuber sack for a robe nonetheless. "Guess it was brown, that balances it out a bit I guess." He nudges the other candidate in the ribs. "Right? Still lots of proddy go to around before we know it." Gray eyes trail along after the bronze and brown still remaining and the sneeze makes him chuckle. "Girls have cooties." He warns and then just as he's wagging a finger at the bronze he stops, and blinks once, then again. "Scream..?" Blink. "Iidenskapurth, I definitely don't scream." Although he does have that frightened animal look in his eyes right about now. Poor Sor- wait no, poor E'ros. And then the smoulder happens and the seacrafter is staring at his dragon like he very well might be insane.

I Know What You Want Brown Hatchling barrels toward the candidates at a blazing speed! Several slide out of the way, in case the dragon can't get himself stopped in time. But he manages to skid to stop, drumming up a mound of sand under his feet. There's some sniffing around at the candidates right in front of him, then he bounds around in front, moving from one side of the semi-circle to the other. Finally he seems to grow tired of this game, or just tired in general. There's more eyeing up of some potentials, girls mostly. And then he comes to an older male candidate. Tall, and strong! This is the one he's been looking for. "Yes, Gibrilth. I understand. My name is J'hn and you are Gibrilth. Let's find the weyrlingmasters. They can show us when the food bins are."

Naris opens her mouth, about to say something, when the little green stops in front of her moments after sniffing her robes. Her eyes widen a bit comically as her hand falls away from Therynn's. Slowly the former candidate crouches down, the sands and everything around her forgotten. A grin spreads across her face, a real, wide, face-breaking grin, the kind oh so rarely seen on the face of this girl. Her hand reaches out of caress the face of the dragonet as she breathes, "Anshenuith." There's an awe-filled pause before, "yes, I will be your Nisa and we will be together. We will /always/ be together." As she stands up to lead her dragonet off the sands Naris, now Nisa, is no longer alone.

Iris steps to the edge of the platform once the final hatchling impresses. There is a wide grin on her face and pride in her expression. "Congratulations, weyrlings!" she calls over to the side, and to the candidates left standing. "I am sorry that you did not find your lifemate on the sands today- please know you are welcome to remain here if you wish. Just come and see one of the weyrstaff and we can see about getting you a position if you were not from here originally. We hope to see you at the feast which I am sure our kitchen staff are already preparing for this evening. And I am sure we'd all like to go finish our interrupted lunches now!" There's a laugh as she nods over at Enka, then turns to collect the jacket she'd tossed on the platform floor when she came in. Time for food!

Therynn bows graciously and with a great deal of deliverance to the riders and dragons on the sands. There's no expression of sadness, though she does share condolences for those who leave with disappointment. A "Thank you.." is said to Iris, S'u, Tzettenvonth and Shadhavarth as she passes with the group.

Enka certainly looks pleased at the turn of events. "A fine fine fine clutch indeed." There's a long look at the empty sands. "I would like to get back to that lunch, and get myself as far away from here as possible. Goin' to become far too familiar soon enough." Because that's Miraneith up next, with her clutch. "Many felicitations, dear Iris." And off Enka goes, getting as far from the sands as she possible can, before she starts growing roots or something.


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