Gold Onauth Clutches

NB: Partial Log

Western Weyr - Viewing Galleries
Row after row of hard benches to sit on, with a good view of the sands below and the action that takes place there during every hatching.. Despite the times, people still come to see the new pairs formed and place bets on the outcome.

Across the Waters Egg
A sunset's fire of orange glows across the sky, a limitless palate of russet hues as they fade across each other over a once blue glimmering day, now fading into night and the gathering dark, stretched over the curves of this egg. Deepening twilight brings green waters gilded with ruddy tints over the waves before the light disappears, lost into the gloaming of the ocean and reflecting back on the stark image of a sailing vessel, sleek and blacker than night as it floats across the ovoids shell. Sails furled as it heads into the night, guided by something or someone unseen, leading the way or disappearing from view.

From the sands> Xelleen doesn't seem detoured by Aerhi's bland reply, filling the mug up from the pitcher for her, "Hey, would you want to fart a baby out with a whole bunch of people watching?" She nods towards the galleries where a few spectators have already gathered in. A fascinated look is given to the first egg's emergence. "So /that/ is where their junk is. You know, I couldn't figure that out for the life of me. Save for walking up under one of them's tails to really get a good look, which is definitely not a good idea, I figured that I'd never figure it out."

From the sands> Onauth croons at her first egg, lovingly pushing some sand up around it and then shooting a glare back over her shoulder. No one better have any designs on coming onto these Sands without her express permission. "You're being too protective," sighs Aerhi. She gives a sidelong glance to Xelleen. "You aren't missing much, really. And I'm not sure that such curiousity is /healthy/. At least tell me it's just some weird interest in dragons, and not just how they reproduce," she says, looking slightly perturbed. She takes a swig of water, and quietly comments that she wished it were ale. Onauth, satisfied with the placement and covering of the first egg, drops another carefully onto the sand.

A Hidden Fox Egg
Spiraling ribbons of peach curl across the surface of this egg, winding forward and back across the much paler surface in a luxurious display of satin textures that frame a subtle selection of other colors and designs drawn along the surface in a pastel rainbow. Feathery brushes seem to imply wings in assorted peaches, pinks and pale blues, surrounding a delicate impression of a female form from associated curves across the eggshell. Threaded amongst it all, however is a band of shadowy black, reaching from the apical curve all the way down to the very rounded end of the ovoid, its silky edges stark against the rest of the pale colors.
From the sands> The gold pats some sand around this egg as well, before shifting herself to add two more to the ranks. She lovingly turns one onto it's bottom, pushing sand around the base to keep it stable. "You want to make sure they're /even/?" Aerhi asks, incredulous. "It's not like they're cooking, for Faranth's sake. Their wings will be symmetrical, don't fuss." Ignoring her rider, the dragon perfects the position of the two eggs.
The Hideaway Building Egg
Creaky boards seem to lay out along the medium sized egg, forming the structure of what appears to be a building, around the egg and forming the basic plan of the building. Each odd formation seems to bulge out from the egg, making it an odd formation that appears more life-like to the touch. A window peeks through, darkened with an appearance that no one resides in this building. To the right of this window and down a floor, another window appears and it seems there is a person in the darkness of the building of the egg.
Upon The Parapet Egg
This egg sits on its side in its nestled bed of sand, so that a long cylinder of gray extends horizontally across it. Mired around the bottom is more seamless gray, stacked together in blocks. These blocks stagger in a perfect ring around the fatter end of the ovoid, each ring stacked up higher than the next. Upon the last ring, the blocks are intermittent, every other one missing to form crenellations to frame the base of the tower. The tower itself is a proud thing, topped by a conic roof of red tiles. The backdrop for the castle is an unerring backdrop of beautiful blue sky and puffy white clouds.

From the sands> Xelleen shrugs, "Never know when you'll come across a dragon asking for a loincloth, eh?" She grins even wider at the weyrwoman and takes a gulp out of the pitcher for herself. "Shards, this sand is frying. You sure we won't be having a giant hard-boiled egg banquet rather than a hatching?"
From the sands> Aerhi chuckles at Xelleen and shrugs, but Onauth doesn't take the joke so well; the dragon turns to snort at the apprentice, but is soothed as her rider gives her a wink. "Oh, she's joking, you /know/ the Sands need to be this hot. It's part of the Candidate-torturing process." Obviously not getting the joke, but preoccupied with other matters, the gold merely rumbles and takes a few steps to the side to push out another egg.

And A Bottle Of Rum Egg
It's round as a globe, the intensity of cerulean reaches up into paler turquoise, broken in soft dapples of paler cyan and sky as if the color had been poured over an otherwise white shell. The surface seems to move as if this azure color is a liquid, rolling about as one moves around the egg. Here and there the play of shadows drift in among the darker cerulean, taking peculiar shapes before flickering out again into the tranquil dapples. Some might swear that from the right angle and at the proper distance, the shadows make the ominous shape of a human skull, but it seems no one can ever glimpse it twice.

From the sands> "Four already on the sands?" M'roc asks no one in particular, the question soft and barely audible. There's no one around to hear the brownrider anyway, he's standing a good few dragonlengths away from Aerhi, Xelleen — and most importantly, the clutching Onauth. It seems as though the Weyrlingmaster would rather play it safe than sorry, keeping a /wide/ distance between himself and the clutching mother. Above M'roc, looming off one of the ledges as though he's keeping a keen eye on his rider, Cairokelth is more than happy to sit, bask, and watch the clutching.
From the sands> "Make that five," Aerhi shoots back to the barely audible M'roc, waving him over. "Please, I've already told her we have to trust you - you are going to be help raising the things once they hatch." Onauth seems to be gaining more confidence about the safety of her eggs, and bounces foward a few steps to add another ovoid to the growing group. "I bet she'll have at least 10 eggs, are you ready to train that many pairs, Weyrlingmaster?"

Awash In Green Egg
Upon first glance, there is nothing to this egg except smooth, unbroken green sea glass. Even the shape of the egg is unremarkable, unmarred by dimple, bump, or irregularity. Upon further inspection, the unbroken green shell is revealed to be awash in mottled shades of emerald and dark jade, picked through with twigs of brown and the occasional dappling of sunlight. It is as if someone took a sponge and dipped it in paint and dabbed the entire surface of the egg until they were satisfied that it was wholey covered, and left it no more finished than that.

From the sands> Aerhi admires the newest egg for a moment with an approving nod. "Green has always been one of my favorite colors," she notes, taking a nonchalant swig of her water again. "And gold, too, of course. Shards, you're being too serious today," she says out loud, but is obviously just talking to her dragon. Onauth turns to give her rider a long look, but is quickly distracted by another egg making it's way out. She quickly pushes some sand around and pushes out this egg as well.

War-torn Terrain Egg
Daring reds and orange splash across this small egg, making up for the size by sheer force of audacity. A horizon seems to form around the middle of the ovoid, the lower half being a mass of deep crimson broken only by sudden flashes of black smears that dart around, occasionally clashing with each other to form indistinct blobs of ebony. Similarly, brilliant white and neon pink string across the top, gaining force the higher they go. The top point of the egg culminates into a mesh of spinning, variegated blood red and pure alabaster.

From the sands> Reassured by Aerhi, the brownrider is able to confidently stride closer and close the distance between himself and the trio, while smiling. He stands rather close to Aerhi and Xelleen now, though M'roc occasionaly eyes Onauth, eyes dancing between the clutching gold and her half-buried eggs. Aerhi's question earns M'roc's complete interest, his stormy grey-blue eyes flickering to the Weyrwoman's face. "Oh, I can't imagine that ten would be too many to handle," he assures Aerhi with a grin. Onauth's laying of another egg distracts the brownrider, his eyes darting to inspect the newest addition to the clutch. "That one's interesting," he says with an amused chuckle.

From the sands> Xelleen continues to watch the dragon cheerfully, though one might question her avid enjoyment of draconic birth. It is a little creepy. "She's a bit touchy, eh? This her first clutch?" she asks of Aerhi, tipping her head upwards to take another swig from the pitcher.

From the sands> Aerhi shrugs, "They all are, really. It seems that there's never two eggs that look alike ever, let alone in the same clutch." Aerhi finishes off her mug of water and expectantly holds it out to Xelleen with a preemptive, "I'll thank you to fill this again. And, no, second. But she's worried with all the rumors and security and whatnot." Not that she's ever /not/ touchy, but Aerhi doesn't divulge this information. Onauth is all but ignoring the small congregation by now, having worked out another two eggs that she carefully noses and covers as well.

Too Tough To Die Egg
Over all this egg is no relief to look at from the intense heat of the sands. Seeming a bit stretched, it lays on it's longer side, a grainy feeling to the surface, like grooved stone. The shell has a distinctive image to it. The elongated base sits in the sand, washed with gilded dun and dusted with a freckling of darker browns and tans like a well traveled path. Against this comes the contrast of darker, geometric shapes, dark reds, hunter greens and blues, some much smaller square outlines of white set into the larger darker colors. They are lined up in a row along it's surface, ripples rising from the dust-colored base and distorting the transition between it and the colorful pattern. This effect is the only thing akin to water, the illusion of it on a hot summer's day. A solid gold blotch faces the cavern ceiling atop the egg's flopped side, dispelling it's glory gradually in a sheen that sprays down over the entirety of the shell surface… before fading into the gilded dust of the base.
Neon Night Lights Egg
Slightly set apart from the other eggs, this one has it's own cozy burrow to rest in; the elongated oblong shape nestled — actually, halfway buried underneath the hot sands. Most of the bottom of the egg is hidden, as well as the underside, but what can be seen by any onlookers is quite the shocker. Faintly, as if looking through a heavy fog, the steelwork frame of what seems to be a bridge can just barely be made out. Pock marking the framework, and peeking through the mist, are hundreds of twinkling lights; greens, yellows, blues, and reds are all reflected off the waters swirling beneath the bridge. Encroaching upon the outer edges of the egg are rocky outcroppings, the piles of rocks covered in a soft-to-the-touch, deep emerald moss.

From the sands> "That is true," M'roc is ready to agree, nodding as he takes just a brief moment to consider what Aerhi's said. He can't seem to recall any two eggs he's ever seen to be even anywhere closer to lookalikes, so he's quick to second what the Weyrwoman has already stated. "Hmmm, that one," M'roc says with a twinkle in his eye, pointing at the latest to be lain. The 'lights' twinkling on the shell seem to mimic the way M'roc's eyes twinkle in a childlike glee, as though he were five turns, staring at a fresh tray of bubblies. "I like that one," he says with a grin, glancing to Aerhi.
From the sands> Xelleen shrugs and refills the weyrwoman's mug, "Fair enough. Everyone's been hearing the rumors. But nobody's dumb enough to, you know, screw with eggs guarded over by a gold, especially one as big as Onauth, right?" Right? An unconcerned shrug is given then.

From the sands> Aerhi can't help but give a droll chuckle at M'roc enthusiasm, and nods. "It's colorful. Sometimes I even wonder where these colors come from. Or how there can be soft pastel colored eggs, and then really dark or bright ones all in the same clutch." It is a mystery. Aerhi happily takes another gulp of the freshly-poured water and nods approvingly to Xelleen. "Hopefully, this water will last us until she's done. Shouldn’t be much longer, there's already -" she pauses to count "- nine eggs? I hope there aren't too many more." Xelleen's words get a half-hearted nod and a sigh, "I tell myself the same thing. No one is stupid enough, right? Then again, some people aren't really prized for their intelligence, I suppose. But it's a problem that will solve itself if anyone tries anything on these sands." She gives a wink towards Xelleen and motions towards the motherly dragon, who happens to be dropping another egg at this time.

Locked Away Jewel Egg
A prized jewel seems embedded on the surface of this egg, a small but colorful jewel in the shade of blue. This blue seems to be held on a small white cushion, plumped to hold this prized jewel. A look to the bigger picture, the egg itself and one sees a dark room that almost appears to be dark as night. Walls as far as the egg can paint, all colored to match the shade of night, a reflection of moonlight from an unseen window. There, in the center of what appears to be a room rests the jewel in a sealed container away from sticky fingers.

From the sands> Aerhi eyes the gold warily as the tenth egg joins the other eggs. "There's still more? I was off, then, I suppose," she says with a shrug. "Just don't over-do it, okay?" she mockingly threatens the gold, with a wiggle of her finger. Still mostly ignoring the Weyrwoman, Onauth continues happily adding more eggs. One more is pushed out and half-covered.

Dawn, Sun and Night Egg
Moss-traced planks of worn birch board the vaulted top of this egg. The ordered pattern marches down the curve of the egg under it's stopped by a sudden flash of brilliant white, then a splotch of brilliant vermilion, and then dark ebony rings around the middle of the egg, ushering in the chaos of movement and color underneath. Swirls of olive, myrtle and ecru clash and swirl together towards the bottom half, as if the egg held all the colors of a forest, but nary the time to make sense or shapes of it. A stripe of neat tan reaches up from the sand-covered base of the egg through the mess, the only rigid shape in the otherwise incongruent mass of color.

From the sands> Xelleen is, if nothing else, ever questing for the element of random and surprise. "So is the Weyrleader any good in bed?" She asks brightly, attention lost from the clutching dragon and her brightly colored eggs.

From the sands> Aerhi finishes off the last of the water in her mug with a sigh. "I might have to bother you for some more water. Is there any more in that pitcher?" Aerhi asks Xelleen as she plaintively looks into her empty mug. The timing appears to be perfect, though. onauth has dropped one more egg, and apparently has deemed it her last. It's lovingly turned and covered, and Onauth carefully makes her way back to Aerhi, near the back of the cavern. "Finished?" Aerhi asks, a smile breaking through her forced placid expression. The gold croons happily, finally seeming to have lost the tension felt earlier. "Glad you're feeling better. I'm gonna go get some ale or wine or… gah, whatever will make me feel better." Xelleen's question is nearly choked at, and Aerhi holds herself back from chucking the empty mug at the girl. "Oh, Shards. You're worse than the old Aunties that like to sit in the Living Caverns." She starts towards the entrance, shaking her head. "Come on, it's too hot in here. And, for the record, I don't remember - it's only been during Flights."

The Fire Within Egg
The cold void of the blackest shadows chill the soul. No light reaches these foreboding depths of murkiness. Nothing grows nor thrives, it is death and silence. And yet, as the eye wanders, the lost hope soon gains a spark - the spark swells, it grows, and it flourishes, a virtual growing orange flame. A bonfire emerges, powerful and invigorating. There is life! From the embers of life comes a rich greenery - fruits, florals and wondrous scents. It is a sea of beauty. Dark forests of emeralds melt smooth with gentle amber, pastel violets, soft blues, and even deep umber; it is truly a miraculous sight.

From the sands> Xelleen clucks her tongue in amusement, "The Aunties are great company, I'll have you know!" she tells Aerhi as she trails along after her, "And that's a shame. If you aren't using him, can /I/ tumble him a few times for ya?" All grins and dimples in her dark face now as she exits the sands with the woman.

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