Celimoth and Xermiltoth's Eggs Hatch

Half Moon Bay 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 underfoot 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.


From the Galleries> Tanit didn't take a nap in the Galleries. Honest. The lanky diver sprawled on one of the empty benches for a bit of quiet. It's a normal day otherwise, the sun is shining the grounds are quiet. Nothing could possibly go wrong with this picture.

From the Galleries> Tanit blinks open her eyes sleepily, scrunching up her nose. "What is that sound?" The Lanky diver straightens up from where she'd been napping on the bench rubbing at her eyes.

From the Galleries> Dragons have a way of knowing things so S'ndri made his way here as quickly as he could to see the hatching. He makes his way up to the galleries and once there sits himself down.

It's dinner time! Well, not quite, but it's that time in between lunch and dinner when you're about to be hungry again. Even the weather seems to be protesting this turn of events - the sky hangs heavy over Half Moon Bay, rain falling in great, ponderous drops with no visible intent to clear anytime soon. It is at this time, in this weather that dragons begin to hum, first one, then two, then suddenly the entire weyr is practically vibrating with the summons to the sands for it is time - the eggs are ready to hatch.

Upon the sands rests Celimoth and Xermiltoth, draconic eyes whirling fast with uncontained excitement, voices raised in a welcoming hum. Somewhere there surely lurks a Kadesh, but for now it is up to Ila'den to keep the big bronze clutchfather from swooping out amongst the eggs, his rider notably absent in order to attend to assistant weyrlingmaster duties somewhere in the bowels of the weyr. Hopefully he'll be along soon, candidates in tow, as neither bronze nor eggs seem entirely willing to wait for long despite the worried lurking of the weyrs dragonhealers.

Binding Performance Egg has confirmed that launch conditions as of 05:30 are optimal. Don't ask how it knows, it just does. Why else would it be vibrating, and pulsating, and threatening to split down the middle with a violence bordering on excitement? Or, well, maybe it's not ready quite yet, because it gives one last exaggerated tremble and goes still.

Storm's Aegis Egg can't seem to get a moment of rest, can it? Noise all around. Is it trying to burrow back down beneath the sands? That almost looks like what it's doing, moving just enough to get more sand piled up around it.

Sevran is here. Already looking rather awkward in that robe get-up. But oh well. Beads of sweat have already begun to collect on his forehead as he makes his way out further onto the Sands. He manages to remember his manners, and at least acknowledges dam and sire before finding a spot that's not too close, but not too far, from those intimidating eggs.

Baylee hurries out onto the sands with the rest of the candidates. She bows to the clutch sire and dam and settles in her place in line, trying to make sure she's somewhere near Krenn and Sev. Once placed though all her attention goes to those eggs.

Elixyvette stubbornly refuses to lift her gaze to the Stands as the Candidate group moves out onto the Sands, her attention fixed first on dam and sire, then those eggs and little more beyond them, as if she could draw the edge of the world at the perimeter of the Sands and see and hear nothing else at all. Her bow is as exacting as manners demand, little more or less, and then she moves to find herself a spot that plainly doesn't have anything particularly unique about it, but it's where she wants to plant herself, heels tipping a little more firmly into sand.

Krenn steps out onto the sands, trying not to look terrified. The big day is finally here! His nerves show just a bit as he fiddles with the sleeve of his robe before dropping into a proper bow to the gold. He offers Baylee a nervous smile and holds out his hand before his attention is snagged by the wobbling eggs.

Taline does not seem to find the hot sands to be a hospitable environment, regardless of the fact that normally beaches are her most hospitable environment. Something about the heat emanating from the ground combining with her more sensitive than usual braincells, When she steps to a safe space near some of the safer people (that being people like Sevran, Baylee, Elixyvette, Riohra and Kassala to name a few — so it would be great if we were all standing together guys) the movement of her feet is very cautious, pointed-toe and watching where she steps. This will be fine until eggs start exploding everywhere.

Kassala steps out on the sands, following the other candidates that file out of the barracks. The noise gains her attention first, then the heat, then the movement of the eggs. As she walks out, she makes a quick bob of her red head towards the dam and sire before finding a place to stand, hopefully close enough, but not so close to get run over by any dragonet coming out of the eggs.

Wavelengths of Light Egg rolls onto its side, moving a small distance away from where it stood a silent sentinel before, and ceases movement.

Citayzleat is also practically vibrating, following in the line of candidates. Absently trying to scuff graphite off of her hands into big streaks on her previously perfectly-clean robes, the candidate takes her turn on the bowing (if a little impertinently grinning for the dam and sire), then follows the line. She takes a post standing nearby Nadarya and a few others, watching over them nervously.

Finally. Xermiltoth settles the second his R'hyn hits the sands, or perhaps settles for the forms that follow. Regardless, the bronzerider beelines for the sidelines to contain his dragon, hands smoothing over the beast's blackened maw before turning a brilliant grin on his sands-mate. "Ready?" He is, happy anxiety written over his entire form as he smoothes hands down his sides and then folds his arms and perches to just watch while Xermiltoth rumbles a friendly rumble at those bowing candidates.

Riohra is there on the sands with the rest, still dripping water from his recent dip in the ocean but that is evaporating fast as he moves to stand near Kassala. He two will nod to the dragons but is more focused on the eggs that are already hatching.

Shanatea follows other candidates out onto the Sands, stopping to bow to sire and dam as well as their riders. He then moves along finds a place near Sevran and Catwin. His eye scan the eggs, the look on his face one of excitement.

Binding Performance Egg clearly has that feeling that something big is about to happen, and the occupant intends to be a participant of that life-changing moment. There's an experiment to be found outside of this sturdy shell that cracks with a sudden viciousness, flecks of shell shotgunning away to leave spiderweb fissures along the surface of its shell. Still, the occupant remains confined

Catwin moves out onto the Sands in her place in line. She bows to the clutchparents, and then moves to stand apart from the rest of the candidates, but nearish to Shanatea.

Sundari merely watches from the sidelines, arms folded before her while her gaze drifts over the moving eggs and then the candidates that are following along out onto the sands.

Sevran flashes a bit of a grin towards Baylee, acknowledging her with a quick, "Hey Bay," and then a quick "Tea," and "Cat" for the other two coming over. Maybe there's a nod of his head, but what else is there to say right now?
Baylee takes Krenn's offered hand, but doesn't lift her gaze from the eggs. One of them is even looking to have hatched already! "Look at them go." she says to no one in particular.

Wavelengths of Light Egg trembles and rolls again, back in the direction it came, where it teeter-totters back and forth. The top of the egg splinters outwards but doesn't break, before the inhabitant inside rests.

Krenn laughs nervously, the sound almost completely swallowed up by the din of activity on the sands. "Wow. It's finally happening, isn't it?" He says, taking a deep breath. "Couldn't wait for it before, but now that it's here… well, we'll be okay no matter what. That's the important thing."

Taline is not better now that eggs are exploding everywhere. Eggs, resultant: dragons, which are also going to be everywhere if they aren't already. No, she just looks a little more wide-eyed and a little bit sicker. Is it possible for someone to not speak throughout an entire hatching, except maybe when spoken to? It seems as if the not-too-outspoken Taline is trying that. Not just because there are dragons, but also because she is dizzy.

Cita shifts from foot to foot, ignoring Nadarya's sarcastic drawling from beside her. She doesn't quite hover over the other candidates, but the healer-candidate does watch them, between glances at Xermiltoth. The eggs? Well, yes, those too. Sort of. "They're louder than I remember." Cita eyes the Wavelengths egg, wide-eyed.

Outrun the Monster Egg shudders, falling on its side and rolling away from the others before going still again.

Shanatea nods to Sevran as he stops, just watching the eggs rocking and cracking and all that egg-like stuff that they're doing out there. No, not much to say.

Binding Performance Egg has an experiment to prove! If it could just. get. out. of. this. shell. And then it happens: spiderwebs expand, sticky shell spatters those unfortunate enough to be close, and there stands a dragon in regal pose, magnificent and devastating with sturdy limbs, and strong lines, and - okay, so maybe there is shell still stuck around thick neck like a mane, and maybe it does looks ridiculous, but you try breaking out of an egg and look this good after you're done. Lucky enough for you (and you, and you, and you), this dragon's here to save you all.

Ancient Sandstone Etched Brown Hatchling
Desert sands sweep along the mid length of this dragon's body from snout to tail fork seemingly sparkling with the golden rays of sun that also glints off his eye ridges and head-knobs. Beneath, an interplay of cinnamon and penny randomly alternate to deceptively suggest his hide were constructed of countless tiny bricks. With a distinctive swirl of tawny hues, subtle specks of sepia drifts across the thickness of his neck, up and over the broadness of his shoulders and down the robustness of his heavily muscled body. His underside is dipped entirely in shadow, which leaks down like wet grains down his stout limbs mixing in with mocha and hickory bespeaking of their power and strength, This base only gives way to the blackest night represented by his talons. By contrast, warm midday light represented by caramel and amber touches each neck ridge in turn before sweeping gloriously across broad wings and the length of his heavily blunted tail.

Catwin does not say much of anything right now. Her gaze is darting between eggs hatching. The rocking, the cracking, the noise is just outrageous. Her eyes dart between the many candidates and then the sudden appearance of a dragonling on the Sands.

Storm's Aegis Egg doesn't approve of the noise levels, here, but what can it do about it. Well, for one, it can move. The movement from the previously-very-still egg is explosive and sudden, enough to send a cacophony of breaking noises all throughout the cavern. Watch out! Here it comes!

Cita's eyes flick to the Monster egg — rolling, ominously probably. "Hmm." The candidate murmurs, thoughtful, but look! "Oh!" First-hatched, brown and beautiful, and Cita makes a deeply uncharacteristic crooning noise somewhere in her throat. Like she thinks the baby is cute. "Look at him!" She laughs, glancing at the others with a few less nerves. He is pretty cute, right? No, she's definitely right. "We'll be fine, Krenn." Optimism! It's a thing!

This Ends in Fire Egg is here; aware, if the tiny tremors are any indication. It rocks, experimental. Just a shimmy, then a shake. One, two. One, two, three. Testing. Testing. Anybody home?

From the Galleries> Kelani dashes in to the gallery, still wearing her healer tunic and looks around for a place to sit settling finally into the empty space beside Jingum, "What have I missed?" She asks in a low voice as her gaze takes in the sands below and oohs at the sight of the baby dragon.

Sevran eyeballs the Outrun the Monster egg hard. Yeah. That one he's gonna keep away from. Even if it's still an egg, and not a hatchling yet. To Baylee he simply casts an amused sort of look, but before he can offer any thoughts on the subject of the eggs, there's now an actual hatchling on the sands. "Cute?" he asks of Cita. "I dunno about 'cute'…"

Riohra reaches out and offers Kassala a hand before watching the eggs rock and the brown dragonet is produced from its hidden place. "Wow…" yup master of the verbal arts this one is, he is in awe seeing a dragon hatch for the first time.

From the Galleries> Jingum pats the seat next to him as Kelani sits down. "Just one brown so far. Though a lot of rocking and excitement. Poor candidates who next to the brown got egg on their face."

Outrun the Monster Egg is back in motion, splintering with the violent sound of a whip-crack to leave deep fissures throughout its crumbling shell. As if the inhabitant inside is resting, it goes still once more.

"Everything is cute when it is just born." Baylee says wtih a smile. Besides who is going to dare say otherwise with the dragonets parents sitting right there. It would just be rude. As it is, so far everyone is cute. She does eye the Outrun the Monster egg warily. Yeah. That was the weird one.

Krenn is momentarily startled as the brown emerges in a rain of egg shards. He quickly looks at Baylee to see she is alright then looks up and down the other candidates. "Nothing to worry about." He mutters to no one.

This Ends in Fire Egg hops. Somebody's home! It's here! If. Only. It. Could. Escape. Impatient, the egg rolls out of its neat resting spot, so quickly that it skips a few times. Crack! A large chunk breaks off, showing wiggling, scrabbling toes. Success! Kind of. It rests against another egg, movement stymied. Not for long!

Kassala reaches out to grab Riohra's hand, giving it a hard squeeze as the eggs rock and roll. "Good luck." She whispers to him loudly before her attention is soon grabbed by the nearby egg as it gives way to reveal the brown hatchling. "Awww.." The dragonhealer just sort of melts at each one that will show itself.

Shanatea also makes a quiet ooohing sound as the brown arrives on the Sands. His head tilts at Cita and he grins. "All babies are cute, in a way." he mumbles, not really in Cita's direction, but he hopes she hears that. He's possibly a bit overwhelmed. His eyes cast over the eggs, noticing the rocking of the firey egg. But his eyes still move, trying to take in everything. Stare. Then an egg HOPS.

Elixyvette laces her fingers together before her and squares her shoulders, seemingly perfectly calm, only when faced with shattering shells and an actual little - or not so little - dragon on the Sands, there's a sudden, quiet crack that isn't from an egg, but from one of the Candidate's thumbs, too much pressure applied as something dislocates itself. She allows herself a hiss of pain and shifts one hand to shield the other, paling just a touch, yet otherwise still standing tall.

Ancient Sandstone Etched Brown Hatchling commands every movement with the regal pose of a natural born leader; he is unhurried in his movements, the physical embodiment of confidence bordering just shy of arrogance. He controls himself with a stiffness that is no less graceful, taking in the world and those who join him on the sands with the regard of a King. Look, you're not his problem (nor you, nor you, nor you), but he looks out across the DMZ of burning-hot sands and he does not see paradise - he sees people. Just people. Angry, scared, determined people who are going to do whatever it takes to survive. He longs to find the strongest of them, to seek the one he will choose, whether destined to or not.

Wavelengths of Light Egg is on the move! But from where the top once broke comes the small press of a snout. The dragon within works its way out slowly, less cracking and crumbling shell than an honest emergence from that which contained it. But no more! Now this little dragon is free, and there is a world full of mystery to explore.

Tantalizingly Tropical Green Hatchling
Bright, slightly yellowish green is the dominant color for this dragon, though paler hues mark her face and underside and her wings are tinged with teal. Her body is strongly built but compact, the curve of her keel giving her a slightly rounded look, while a relatively short neck that seems to simply blend between head and body does little to alter that impression of extra fluff on her frame. On her head, a mossy green ring-shaped marking sits between small headknobs, like her little halo perched there by her horns. Her muzzle is short and broad, with just a bit of an overbite that tucks her upper teeth over the edge of lower jaw and gives the impression of a downward curve. Beneath her chin begins the splash of pale bay that continues down over the bottom of her neck, along stomach between powerful forelegs until it comes to a point just before her hindlimbs. Those legs are short but strong, well able to to carry her on gray-green paws and curved black talons… though maybe not always as fast as she'd like. Her wings, by way of contrast, are large - almost oversized, and their hue only contributes further to the impression they've been borrowed from a larger dragon. The spring green of her back sweeps out along them for about a third of their span before the color shifts to a bluer shade, aquamarine along her spars fading to teal on the semi-translucent sails between. Her tail is similarly large - though shaded entirely a yellowish-green like her back. It's still proportioned as if to match wings, rather than the rest of her, and has a prominent fork that makes up more of its length than many.

Catwin takes a step backwrds. Just a step. Everything moving all at once is a lot to take in. She tucks her hands together and maybe takes a slight step towards the nearest candidate.

Cita is running on optimism, here, and if she can will it into being hard enough, she can maybe forget about the overwhelming terror. "Well," The healer hums, thoughtful, watching the little brown warmly. "He's not bad." He hasn't attacked anybody yet? Cita definitely twitches a little at the violent cracking, but continues, unbothered and nodding for Baylee and Tea. "Exactly. All wrinkled and gooey. Oh, look at her!" Sigh! Precious.

Sevran has doubts about that, Baylee. "All covered in goo? I dunno if that's cute." But that's all the argument he's going to give. Cute is better than 'terrifying' right? "You too?" he asks of Tea, a small groan of protest. "Seriously. It's covered in? stuff." Goo. Gross. "Oh," for the next dragon to grace the sands, eyes darting between the two, keeping tabs.

From the Galleries> "Seriously. It's covered in? stuff." Goo. Gross. "Oh," for the next dragon to grace the sands, eyes darting between the two, keeping tabs.

Mnemonic Memories Egg doesn't so much wobble as it does roll, a slow and ponderous movement that shifts it only fractionally further from where it started.

And then there is another one. Baylee's eyes are now focused on the green dragon as she emerges from the shell. "Oh look. It's another one." she says, not pointing but clearly indicating the green with her gaze, "She's cute too." Everyone is cute!

Tantalizingly Tropical Green Hatchling shakes the last of egg-goo from her body, pausing on the sands to dip her maw towards her wings for an honest-to-Faranth preening. She keeps at it, unhurried by the happening of the world, momentarily unconcerned by the blockade of white waiting for her notice. And then she moves - awkwardly. She doesn't have the kind of gait that speaks to beauty and grace; it's a pittapatapittapata movement of feet that has her backside swaying side-to-side as her paws criss-cross over the front of each other. Curiosity draws whirling eyes to the candidates, and she stops before one with a tilt of her head that might have brought it in a complete 180, except that physics say, 'no'. But this one has no treats, and she moves on.

Krenn eyes the brown with wonder. "Well aren't you something." He motions to Catwin as steps back and then closer. "It's ok.. look a green." He says excited. He turns to Baylee with a big smile. "Look a green one too!"

Riohra nods to Kass, luck? more like a help he turns to watch the green hatch now there are two of them he has to watch. He doesnt move back but he does happen to glance at Elixevette and reaches out to offer her a hand as she seems to be near to where he and Kassala stands. Looking back at the Green he will say "She is a lovely one"

This Ends in Fire Egg won't be stopped by a sibling! That foot slowly works itself out of its shell, and suddenly SNAP- there goes the egg. Clean in two it goes, and the jagged little green steps out, looking very pleased with herself. She stumbles headlong into her sibling's egg, gives herself a little shake, and sets off at a brisk pace across the sands. Places to be, and the Time for a Butt-Kicking Green isn't particularly impressed by her options. Not that there's any hesitation to her movement; just, if she were, it would be kind of bad. She almost makes it without making a fool of herself, too. The first sight of her lifemate - through a parting of candidates, a chance movement - seems to strike the little one, and she bugles, loud and excited. "Tuoferiath?" Similarly visibly moved, Nadarya breaks away from her little group of candidates, reaches the green just as she takes a nose-dive into the sands. "Don't worry, honey," The Weaver speaks loudly enough that those closest can hear, glaring over a shoulder a little. "They didn't see you. Come on, let's get you cleaned up." And she helps the dragonet up, shuffling her off out of the limelight.

Time for a Butt-Kicking Green Hatchling
A beautiful specimen, strong and pretty, this green could bowl you over and it might just occur to you to thank her. From afar, she has a striking profile; powerful shoulders, graceful lines, a slightly roman profile to her head. She's not lean, but not musclebound either, instead large and well-formed even as a baby. Deep, teal-shaded green forms a base over which dapples of nearly-desaturated fir bloom and grow. The dappled effect grows stronger in places - her topside, ticking down her shoulders, lending each slightly craggy 'ridge an even more rocky appearance. Sunlight graces the elegantly pronounced ridge above her eyes, traces back to oversized headknobs, then ghosts across the upper sides of her slightly too-long wings. The lower side takes on the deep teal prominent beneath the stone-fir dapples, paling slightly towards the trailing edges. Down her strong legs the speckled effect of the bulk of her hide becomes less prominent, and the base teal slowly darker, until all four slightly oversized paws are abyssal.

With a triumphant cry the Time for a Butt-Kicking Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Mnemonic Memories Egg splits along one side like a slow tear through an old picture, jagged paper edges glistening with the threat of something larger still to come.

Sevran can't win. Why try? "Yeah, sure." Cute. Everything is cute. An eyeroll is had, even if it means he's briefly not paying any notice to the dragons, and eggs, and DANGERS that may be lurking on the sands. Because suddenly there are three, and maybe he ought to pay attention. He at least catches the Impression of that second green. "Her?" Nadarya? "Great." And that is definitely sarcasm in that tone.

Cita tuts under her breath, keeping a watchful eye on the wandering dragonets — plural, now! — and her peers. "It's protective." She says, of the goo, mostly offhand. "It's good for them, even if it's…" Well. Gross. She won't say it, though, instead yelping when Nadarya pushes by her, moving to the aid of the newest-hatched. Cita gapes a little, then does a silly kind of shimmy, laughing. "She's so pretty!" And so is the other little green, so studiously examining them. "Oh, wow, look at her neck. Doesn't that hurt?"

Kassala continues to watch, and as the first pairing is made, she calls out words of congrats to Nadarya, though turns quickly back to watch as the other green and brown stumble around the sands. "They are… amazing.." She half whispers, the dragonhealer completely in awe right now.

Shanatea frowns ever so slightly and then continues to watch at the green Impresses. His attention is spread too thin however, and he's already peering off towards the movement on the Sands. "Look at them all go." he says to noone in particular.

Drone, Hum, and Whirr Egg is somewhere among the others, perhaps tucked away and forgotten, unseen as it shifts slightly to the left only once before wriggling purposefully. The metallic sheen ever present along the shell catches light just right with the rotation, sending deceptively realistic beams of golden energy to shoot quickly across to the blue orb-like splotches which seem to pulse in reaction. Just as abrupt as it had sprung to life, it 'powers down' completely as movement comes to a standstill.

From the Galleries> Kelani sits on the edge of her seat as she watches the hatching, eyes wide with excitement. You would think it was her first…and perhaps it is. There is a little clap as an impression is made and she smiles at Jingum, "This is amazing…hard to believe they will get as big as the adults…They are so small."

"I hope not." Baylee says to Cita. It would be awful to see one of the hatchlings hurt themselves in just the first few moments outside of the egg. Nope Sev you can't win. Everybody is cute!

Catwin is quite happy to stay quiet and watch, her eyes darting across the Sands to watch these baby dragons arrive in the world. Its quite amusing to listen to the other candidates also.

Taline notes Impressions with a thin smile; no doubt she would be happier if she did not feel a little bit like she was going to pass out. She'll congratulate them later, when she's had some water. Does anyone have any water? "Does anyone have any water?" she asks weakly, hoping that anyone at all on the sands has brought a waterskin out for candidates that might get overheated or dehydrated.

Tantalizingly Tropical Green Hatchling might move a little differently than the rest, but she's still agile and nimble on those in-turned feet that go - literally - one before the other. She dips her nose to the sands every now and again, as if to taste that bit of egg-shell (ugh, no thank you), or stare at that particular candidate with unblinking eyes and a curiosity that's borderline unnerving. A paw reaches out towards white robes, as if to grab, and then stops just shy of it. No, this one is not good enough at solving puzzles, so she moves on to find the one who is.

Elixyvette surrenders her good hand to Riohra's for a moment, curling fingers to squeeze in what she must hope is a reassuring gesture, yet she withdraws back into her own space before it might become clear that her grip is not so strong or steady, and that she is, in-fact, trembling.

From the Galleries> Jingum is watching just as intently as Kelani. "I don't know as I would call them small. Much smaller than the adults yes but still.." he gives a soft chuckle. "You would think growing up at Fort I would have seen one of these before.."

Ancient Sandstone Etched Brown Hatchling surveys his sand-strewn Kingdom, poised upon dias that was once his egg, and it is only after a long moment that he begins his 'descent' as it were into the masses. A smooth stride - betrayed perhaps by the wingtips that drag ever so slightly in the sand at his sides - carries him towards the white-robed candidates, his path carrying him close enough to see - and be seen - but not touched. After all, one would not dare take the liberty, would they?

Cita smirks for Sevran, too; he might actually be right, re: just how cute these little gremlins are, but you'd never know it from that grin. "Just looks like it should." The healer-candidate clarifies for Baylee, tossing a grin in the other's direction. She takes in the various awed looks on her classmates with a wiggling kind of excited-nerves, then back to the dragonets, shifting again. "They really are something." Agreement is quiet, and like most of theirs, more to herself than anything.

Sevran acknowledges Cita's comment about the goo with a simple, "I'm sure it is," helpful. Protective. Whatever. "Doesn't mean I have to like it." Cause it's still gross. Kinda like snot, right? The green's impressive head-neck-rotation does have him arching an eyebrow and following Baylee's comment with a quick, "Can't be comfortable." But the green has his attention for only a moment before he's watching the brown with quiet consideration.

Drone, Hum, and Whirr Egg has started to twitch again, the previous slow tilt has now left it completely side-lying before it lurches forward, noticeable cracks appearing from the half still in relative shadow, appearing to severe several of those oddly complex metal-like connections along its surface. Jump! Leap! Critical pathways continue to catching light, a ghostly glow lingering here and there, it begins to roll towards a small batch of candidates before coming to a stop and moves no more, the illusion of its electrical charge fading into nothingness. It's just an egg, you know.

Krenn watches with intent eyes as the brown makes his way from what remains of his egg towards him and the others assembled here on the sands. His gaze then darts to the green who is making her way and almost touches one of the candidates, he can't quite see who it was.

Outrun the Monster Egg shatters almost violently, leaving in its stead the sensual lines and strong build of the dragon it could no longer contain.

A World With No More Night Blue Hatchling
Moody blues? Not this fellow. He's the pinnacle of poise and charm, deep azure hide spritzed through with boisterous bubbles of baby blue. Ice shards shatter down the long column of his neck before floating high along ribs and spine, their jagged peaks cresting like pale icebergs to form unevenly-spaced 'ridges. Trickling twists of indigo plunge slowly southwards from a strong maw, twining a hypnotic course down his throat, lapping at the slim curve of his his stomach before pooling at the very tips of his tail. A splash of sweet summer berry provides refreshing relief from the otherwise cool tones of his hide, a single patch of warmth highlighting the space over his chest, as though the heated tattoo of twin hearts could hardly keep his emotions at bay. Curacao blue soaks the broad expanse of his wings, malibu waves coursing up from the trailing edge to provide a subtle splash of variation for effect. In direct sunlight, these seafoam-stricken striations gleam with a subtle glint of glitter, a sort of iridescent sheen that hints that perhaps there's more to this blue than meets the eye. He is nuanced, he is variegated, he is unmatched in form, and flow, but physicality aside there is just something about him that begs one's inspection. Whatever that may be, one thing is for sure: there is no darkness to be found here, no tumult, no turmoil - he is simply something pleasant to behold, a creature of ample muscle but careful motions, rugged without it domineering his appearance, cool and collected without losing out on that sense of quiet familiarity. He is who he is, bold and bright and just a little bit mystic, with a confident stride to match.

Riohra watches the brown looking regal and will say "He moves like a Lord, Going to have a strong will that one" he grins and will glance over at Elix only quickly but will nod at her. then back to the sands as he squeezes Kassala's hand.

There is a brown and green dragon like right there. Baylee stays still now as those two move up and down the line. It is a bit unnerving but everything about this is. She just stands there sweating and still.

Shanatea grins silently at the brow's regal bearing and nods to Riohra "He does, he'll be a handful." he adds, his eyes shifting again and stares off at the rocking, gleefully cracking eggs and the dragons popping out everywhere.

Rebirth of the Elemental Quarter Egg quivers in its place, shaking subtly until its movement can no longer be denied. It's time! Wobbling this way and rocking that, it disrupts the crater of sand which has cradled it till now, forming ripples outwards from the base. Shimming, shuddering, and still.

Taline might hate everything about the outside air right now, but at least that blue is cute

Tantalizingly Tropical Green Hatchling is intrigued by this mystery of whosits and whatsits that stand before her in white, regarding them all until - oh. There she is; there is the one whose heart sings to hers, whose mind presents the puzzle piece to what was missing before. She stops before her chosen one, reaching out that taloned paw to catch at the hem of robes with a curious sound that sounds more like a squawk than a croon.

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

"I think you're right." Kassala says aside to Riohra as she watches the brown make his way forwards towards the line of candidates. A tilt of her head takes in where the green got off to, only to miss the hatching of the blue that joins the group. "Oh, a blue!" She is quick to point out, once he's noticed!

Cita snickers, a little, forgoing her watchful eyeing of the dragonets for a count on eggs. Still a lot of them remaining, rocking and cracking and making noises that no living thing ought to be making. The Drone, Hum, and Whirr egg gets a long and squinty-eyed look — really, that's odd — but then the Monster egg is hatching, and huh. "Well," She muses, in a generally Sev-wards cant. "That's fair. I don't like their claws much, myself…" Oh! But the green hasn't actually hurt anybody, just found hers, and Cita cheers! "Oh, look!"

Catwin stares at the blue dragon, now smiling. "Well, he's a pretty one. No?" She leans a little towards Shanatea, who seemes to be the closest candidate to her. Her eyes follow him on the Sands.

A World With No More Night Blue Hatchling stretches, handsome in form and graceful in pose as he shakes off the last of shell from his body and shifts his head to look at the candidates gathered before him. Whirling eyes pass along each and every one as his chest expands and contracts with each breath, and then he moves. None of these will do. There is only one for him.

Taline — Aine — whatever her name is — certainly wasn't expecting this outcome, regardless of her talks with some of the others and her awareness that anything could happen to anyone. Not expecting it, however, is not the same thing as not being open to it. Nothing changes the surprise of the moment that is Impression, though, even if one were expecting it. She still sort of feels faint, but the heat of the sands is momentarily ignored for lowering herself to the green's eye level, and speaking only one word, loud enough for others to hear but not loud enough to be broadcasting: "Sakrayeth."

Whatever it was that Sevran was expecting to be birthed from that Monster egg, it was likely not a pale and pleasant looking blue. "Huh." It's all he can think to say, as if he can't quite wrap his mind around that egg, and that blue, being one and the same. And then his attention is pulled sharply away, eyes for the green and her new weyrling. A hiss for claws on robe, but no damaged done. "Oh Taline!" Relief. Joy. All the happy emotions.

Krenn squeezes Baylee's hand a little tighter as another egg explodes revealing the beautiful blue from within. He is still watching the brown. Yes regal is a good word for him. Then the green reaches out to someone nearby, "Oh Taline, congrats!"

Mirror, Mirror Egg doesn't just wobble, it vibrates, as if there is too much dragon and too much personality for this reflective egg that catches the sand and refracts the light towards dragons and people to hold. It thrums, the edges shifting as what's within moves, and then it goes still.

Riohra nods and grins over and says "oh look, that green chose Taline" he will give a cheer to her and then look back now where did that blue go? Ahh there he is moving slowly. His head is on a swivel but when the Rebith egg wiggles he will turn his attention there.

Mnemonic Memories Egg finally splits in one great go, allowing the timid hatchling within to finally pour from the contents of his shell. There's no mistaking which egg he came from - sepia tones stain the length and breadth of his body - but the better question is, where is he to go. Alas, that answer is his and his alone, and for a long moment he simply cannot remember. A horrible thing to lose, one's memory, considering how much of us it encapsulates… but in the time it takes to even think said thought, his feet start moving, first at random, then with purpose, carrying him right to the feet of a particularly studious harper, who can only splutter and clutch at the wire glasses over his chest before finally managing a shaky, "Of- of course, Mnemth. I am your Le'em after all, it'd be my pleasure to show you where we keep the food," before guiding the thin brown dragonet away.

A Case of Deja Vu Brown Hatchling
This brown is the epitome of the everyman, a little bit of everything whilst also being nothing at all. It lends him an edge, this relative anonymity, for while he's a bit of a recluse and ultimately a stranger to all, there's just something so familiar about him that he begs a second glance, just to be sure. First looks simply aren't enough for him, after all - at a blink, he is simply dark and loamy, klah grounds left sit in the sun, but upon further inspection, he's so much more than that. Worn sepia tones not at all unlike his egg curl about his sides, appearing faint motes of mist in some places, rorschach-blotched in others, while his wings weave one great puzzle of shapes and colors in faded shades of brown. And perhaps that's why people see something in him - because no matter how often one looks, there always seems to be a new shape to see brushed or splattered across his hide, something just beyond the grasp of recognition that comes and goes with each shift of his whip-thin body.

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

Baylee's eyes move to the blue as he joins the dragons already on the sands. She smiles in delight as Taline is among the chosen! "Congrats!" she calls to Taline not sure that she will even hear but thats ok. She'll get to tell her later how happy she is for her!

Sundari has been watching the eggs and thus the hatchlings that have been appearing onto the sands. When it comes to colors sorry she does like the blue's thank you very much. Her gaze drifts over to a green that is paying special attention to on eof the white robe people and she turns moving on over to where Taline and Sakiryth happen to be after the impression. A warm smile is offered to the pai and she waves a hand slightly to the side. "Come along you two, we're get you settled up off the sands."

Shanatea grins and offers a quiet, "Congrats!" to Taline and her new little partner. But he's quiet about it, as he doesn't want to disrupt anyone, you know how it is. He turns back to the sands and watches the next egg hatch and the brown find his mate too. It all happens so fast sometimes, no?

From the Galleries> Kelani nods to Jingum, "Been up to the weyr a couple times, but never managed to catch one. The stories just don't match the experience." Her gaze shifts from the dragonets to the candidates.

Kassala tiptoes as the green seems to make a choice, "Who is it?" She asks, nudging Riohra to see if he might be able to spy who it picked. When he names the candidate turned weyrling, she grins, "Good for Taline!" Then comes a brown, that chooses the harper, and a grin is flashed to the two. "Congrats!"

Rebirth of the Elemental Quarter Egg heaves itself to one side, slipping, sliding, and then eases very slowly to a stop as the grains of sand beneath finally settle. All is calm. There may not be more, a kind of quiet and unassuming tranquility descends upon its location as it simply rests. Abruptly, it shifts again without warning, a mighty crack nearly cleaving the entirety of it in two. Each half appears to breathe independently away from the other. Once. Twice. Three times. Then…nothing.

Elixyvette briefly locks her gaze on one dragon, then another, but her attention seems to linger longer on those they've chosen once decisions have been made, head tilting as she studies them, searching for signs of… what? Whatever it is, she doesn't appear to be getting any concrete answers, and so turns her attention back to little roaming dragons.

Ancient Sandstone Etched Brown Hatchling lingers out of reach for one more long moment, watching a particular group of candidates with a little more curiosity than he had shown previously. And then, with the same deliberate movements, he is moving to close the gap, stepping towards the white unknowns. Pausing before a tall, slim young woman, he tilts his tawny muzzle upwards, a soft croon escaping him - he has sought out his new life; it is time for it to begin.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Ancient Sandstone Etched Brown Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Catwin smiles for the Impressions made in the last few minutes, but her eyes turn back to watch the babies on the Sands, turning to look at brown and then blue.

A World With No More Night Blue Hatchling pauses before one candidate, a girl to whom he lowers his snout without actually touching her. He pulls away before she can touch him, snorting as if the scent wasn't quite right enough for him to stay. Strength and agility carry him forward again, none of the male candidates holding interest for him, whirling eyes paying them no regard because they are not who he seeks, and he find them.

Cita's still counting, eyes flicking between eggs and hatchlings quickly. "Is that half?" She ventures, not seeming real sure of herself on the matter. "Yeah, Taline." The healer-candidate agrees for Kass, pausing a little tensely when the blue dragonet ventures a little close. He's not eyed with fear, exactly, but a kind of narrow-eyed curiosity, maybe. Caution? But — "Look!" And the handsome first-hatched finds his, and Cita beams, excited. "Look at them!"

Drone, Hum, and Whirr Egg might just be having some sort of mini seizures over there having begun in such a way that they were imperceptible, but now that there was some genuine effort being expended to break free of that shelled prison, actively twitching this way and that. Nearly turned over the opposite direction as before, it's rolling again, away from that one grouping of candidates and headed off towards another before unpredictably changing directions as if on some sort of invisible track. Just as strangely, it takes a quarter turn before ceasing completely. In a nearly mechanical motion, it rights itself by teetering back to standing up straight. A crackling like static becomes audible, seconds before the apex completely launches off the rest with enough force to send it up into the air. By the time this part has landed, the rest of the egg is shot away as well, leaving a hatchling in the shattered remains.

Rubik's Complex Curmudgeon Bronze Hatchling
At first glance, there isn't much that can be said about this dragon, other than he appears to be uniformly and uncompromisingly bronze in hue, from the tip of his snout to that of his tail fork. His body, muscled without being bulky, doesn't appear to possess a single feature that might set him apart from any other of his color group. Perfectly average to the point of textbook, surely to be dismissed with but a passing glance, ultimately boring. However, upon closer inspection, it's revealed that this is farthest from the truth. There are subtle differences in the pigment of his hide that may very well make him the most striking of creatures ever to have set foot on Pernese soil. The faintest of striations streak across the entirety of him in only the finest of spun gold, making his surface appear scratched or machined in that way that gives character rather than deflecting from his appearance. Tiny freckle-like globs of chestnut brown are scattered about seemingly without purpose or pattern, mixed in with flecks of rust and ghostly kisses of klah-brown. Muted highlights of deep copper whisper along his eyeridges and jaw, tips of his headknobs and neckridges, the edges of his wingsails and snout, as well as his every rib. The places where minuscule color variations collide give suggestion of the groves, dings, or divots that can be found on any rare antique or valuable collectable. It's the upper portion of his right hind limb that is anything but average in that it looks somewhat desiccated in comparison to the other. Likely, it's the reason he walks with a pronounced limp. As if to offset this flaw, the lower half of the same limb, can only be described as bitchin'. An apparition of flame a shade or two darker than the rest of him wafts up from around his toes, drifting up over the paw and fades off about a quarter of the way past the first joint.

From the Galleries> Tanit whistles. "Not a bad clutch so far," She'll mention to no one in particular, perhaps waiting still to see if bets paid off or not.

Sevran maybe takes a step back. Maybe. Or maybe he's just shifting from the heat. Either way, it seems to coincide quite nicely with the appearance of another little brown. Thankfully this one is quick about it, and he doesn't have to watch him long. But the sandy one? That one's getting a little too close for comfort, until concern is alleviated when a choice is made. And then that blue is closing the distance. And now there's a bronze on the sands. Maybe, just maybe, he'll take another step backwards.

Mirror, Mirror Egg is alive! It expands outwards, giving the impressions of snout and limbs and dragon within that rock, rock, and roll! Onto its side it goes, smashing into the remnants of other eggs with cracks that spiderweb and explode outwards, like lightning streaks in fragile glass-shell, before the beast inside rests.

Rubik's Complex Curmudgeon Bronze Hatchling shakes his head to rid himself any shell bits, unsteadily wobbling to his paws. A single step and he flinches, craning his neck around his own body to stare at his right hind limb with brief flash of red across his facets, accusingly from the looks of it. There it remains as he tries another step, facets flashed red, and he snorts. Very well then. Stubbornly, he flicks his head forward and determinedly limps his way carefully towards a small group of candidates. A sniff here, maybe a little bit of a nibble there, and he heads off across the sands at a slow yet steady hobbled pace.

They are coming fast and furious now. It's all Baylee can do to keep up with the new ones hatching and the ones already out and moving around, "Look. There is a bronze one!" Or at least what she thinks is a bronze one. Who really knows in the end amidst all the chaos. She smiles widely, its scary as heck but invigorating in a way.

Riohra grins as the bronze is hatched saying "Look at that fellow" he will squeeze Kassala's hand and look back towards the eggs moving and the blue who hunts for his one true catch. He completely misses who got the brown.

Improbable Dreams Egg hops. No, you read that right, it hops, disturbing sand around it and moving a good in from where it began before it goes still again.

Shanatea ooohs quietly as he peers off towards the newly hatched bronze. "He's handsome." Tea comments to Sevran, since he's around the same area. Who knows, everyone shuffles around when there's dragonlings on the Sands. His eyes admite the bronze hide, and he just grins before glancing off to check out the others on the Sands briefly.

Krenn watches as the first brown finds his new lifemate. He watches the others as they continue their search. He scans his friends to see who is left, only to have his attention drawn by the newly arrived bronze. "Oh its ok little one. Looks like he is limping poor bronze."

Sevran is still near enough to chat, Tea. "Sure," handsome. There's another word he'd maybe use, like, "Seems kinda plain," at least from this distance. "And he's limping." Ouch.

Kassala is curious as well, trying to see who impresses what, but with eggs rolling and hopping, and dragonets getting in the way, the redhead is missing some of them. Turning back to the eggs as Rio points out the bronze that has hit the sands, her gaze slides over it, though she murmurs, "He's limping." Of course, the dragonhealer would notice that right off. "Hopefully it's something that can be fixed.. or that he might grow out of…"

Xyvette reaches careful hands - one far more careful than the other - to run gentle fingers across the tawny muzzle before her, smoothing gently along the jaw of her brown, the edge of the world suddenly no further than the tip of his tail and the limits of his wings. A held breath is exhaled audibly, tension leaving her as the rest of the universe filters back in and the world expands again, reluctant to lift her hands away from him just in-case he might disappear. "Yes, Nehehkath," she quietly agrees, a true, proper smile brightening her features, "there is still much to learn." But first, they'd better get out of the way and find some food.

KA-BOOM! Mirror, Mirror Egg splinters, slivers, contracts and EXPANDS! Shards give way to egg-gooked snout, four feet, a head, and a tail. It's a runner, it's a wherry, it's a? space-dragon? Reflective shell clings to a body of poise and striking lines of beauty like armor, cracked and lined with the evidence of life broken free. Or like a spaceship, if you are less imaginative, but whatever. Better make way, candidates. There's a whole lotta deep spa - sand, deep sand - to explore, and you're in the way.

Lightning Before the Thunder Gold Hatchling
If ever there was a gold to lead dragonmen to the end of days, it would be this one. She possesses the massive build that inspires battlefield legend, the dark beauty that whispers rhyme into the minds of poets, the savage grace that bids hearts beat faster to simply behold her. She is timeless, a queen who wears her crown as a circlet of white-hot stars on her brow, branded forever to be something more than average. Nose long and aquiline, jaw thin but strong, her stern visage is belied by subtle flecks and freckles that soften her edges, trailing over cheekbones and curling along her jaw before spiralling, nebulous, along the long lines of her body. They range, these small bursts of star-matter, from pale goldenrod to the deepest shades of aureolin, and even then they cannot aspire to match the dark depths of her hide. She is not merely shadowed, this gold, but rather engloamed, hide rolling forth in bold, burnished blends of caramel and mahogany that serve only to embellish her robust sense of refinement. She is an all-mother, a keeper of weyrs, muscled without bulk, strong without overbearance, capable of duty and service without sacrificing regality or allure. Her wings depict this dichotomy in detail, delicate but powerful appearance rendered heavy by dark whorls of the smokiest topaz. Cascades of clouds are broken by streaks of heat-lightning, personal universe fractured by needle-thin lances of molten silver, shiny and chrome.

Rubik's Complex Curmudgeon Bronze Hatchling will get there eventually, everywhere, in fact. He doesn't even so much as give the girls a second glance, not after that first one he nipped at because of her funny smell. A boy from Telgar is eyed a bit longer than any of the others thus far, but he turns away from him in the end. Two steps, carefully taken, before he stops abruptly in a long calculated pause. All of a sudden, a chuff of irritation, the decent smelling white things he was after waaaaaaay over yonder. Oh, Come on! Heaving out a breath, a firm set to his shoulders, he begins his long stagger-gaited journey in that direction.

Catwin frowns at the little guy's limp, as the bronze takes off and just shakes her head a little. Poor kid. Her attention turns though, to Tea briefly with a nod and an eyeroll then back to the Sands.

A World With No More Night Blue Hatchling stops, goes completely still as a ripple courses through the devastating lines of his body and not-yet-strong wings shift with restlessness upon his back. He starts back the way he came, following the scent and taste of what he wants and where he longs to be until he stands before her, his one, his only, and presses his maw to her stomach with a gentle touch.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the A World With No More Night Blue Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

"Oh Baylee, look a gold!" Krenn says as he again squeezes her hand. His gaze though is back onto the bronze who still appears to be having difficulty walking, or at least more so than the others.

Sundari is back in time it seems for another impression which is the name of the game of things here after all. Her steps bring her over to Xyvette and the brown hatchling. "Hello-hello there, come along shall we? Just need to move off the sands and get you two settled up." This offered with a soft tone, a curious glance sent towards the other hatchlings that have appeared upon the sands by now.

Cita actually pauses, gaping a little at that bronze. "Oh," Right. That leg. That would be why the stricken kind of look, deeply concerned. The little guy seems to be moving under his own volition, though, so she doesn't do much but mumble worriedly. "He is handsome." She agrees, stoutly, more likely out of loyalty to the proud papa than anything, from this distance. She's got his back. Expanding, exploding eggs? Oh shells, and look, another hatchling, determined and out for the races right off the bat. "Oh." The candidate swallows, distracted, glancing back at the others. "They're going so fast."

Lightning Before the Thunder Gold Hatchling is not a spaceship, thank you very much. She is a creature made from light and stars; she is heaven on Pern, the kind of dragon harpers immortalize in lyric and weavers want to dye about. This is the queen you better remember now and forever, because one day it's going to be, 'Oh, Lightning Before the Thunder Gold Hatchling,' rolling off your tongue in exasperation, instead of that timeless classic, 'Oh, Faranth,' that is in need of some serious renovation. Let her give you some help with how it's done. Look at all that graceful pose, the sleek lines of a body made to be fluid in motion - that screams majesty to the heavens and commands your attention. Okay, now stop looking at her bronze clutchmate, and look back at her. She's taking the first step towards the future, marking a timeless path from this moment - here and now - right into that egg. With force - and a lowering of her head that slams one of those headknobs into shell with gusto and brings to mind that exasperated breath of, 'Oh, Lightning Before the Thunder Gold Hatchling.' So maybe she's not the most graceful dragon, but you haven't seen anything yet.

Kassala simply stares as one egg gives way to a gold. Cheeks flushed from the heat, go pale otherwise, and her grip on Riohra's hand tightens to something like a death grip. His poor fingers. "Look at her.. she's.. wow.. beautiful…." She might say more, but the poor girl goes speechless before the little queen.

Improbable Dreams Egg bursts into motion again! Hop, hop, hip-hoppity hop hop! The shell cracks with each wibble-wobble-hop motion that it takes, threatening to come apart at the seams. And then it moves no more.

Riohra turns just in time to see Elix…er Xyvette gain her new lifemate he will give a cheer for her before he looks back at the limping bronze as Kassala worries saying "I am sure they will be fine" Then the gold is on the scene and all eyes seem to turn to watch her move about.

It seems that the wows are going around, "Wow!" she adds to the chorus. It is a gold. And the gold is like right there. "She's going to be amazing." Baylee says.

Sevran definitely takes a step back at the loud crash of egg-on-sands that announces that gold. "Oh!" Not expecting that, clearly. "Watch out," this for the blue, who is suddenly right there only a few people removed. "Doesn't it always?" go so fast. This for Cita, clearly. "Would you rather it drag on forever?" Probably a hypothetical question, that one. And then an eyetwitch. Yes. An eyetwitch for that gold. "Um. Are they always like that?" Not hypothetical.

Rubik's Complex Curmudgeon Bronze Hatchling snorts indignantly. No! This one isn't the right one, either! Cross that opinion right off the whiteboard, in red. Dismissing yet another of the male candidates, he hobbles off in search of another. He must be somewhere! Where is he hiding? No. Not that one. Ugh, not that one either. Oh, but wait! What do we have here? Oh, ho ho, yes! That tall drink of water there, he is the he who he's been looking for. Confidently, he heads straight for an Igen born lad with grey eyes and touches his snout to his nose. AHA! Gotcha!

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Rubik's Complex Curmudgeon Bronze Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Catwin's eyes widen as the blue stops before her and she draws in her breath. Her eyes fill with disbelief and then the tiniest a smiles quirks at her lips. "Indeed Fascath, I would like to get off these sands as well." she says simply, however there is a different manner to her now.

There's a moment in which Sevran goes from 'Sevran' to… something else. Someone else. Eyes distant, mind gone, it takes him a few heartbeats to come back to the world around him. And to the dragon before him. "'Aedeluth…" is all he can really manage to say. Whatever else may need saying, he can't quite get his brain to form the words just now. Hand reaches out, touches, lays claim to the creature that is nose to nose and has called him 'mine.'

Baylee smiles with delight as she watchs Catwin impress! "Congratulations!" she says to her, still unsure if she's being heard but what does that really matter? There is so much emotion in the moment anyway. Then there is the bronze who impresses too…Sev. Oh my goodness! "Congratulations to you too Sev!" she cries out. All her friends are doing so well!
A little more confidence to Cats step as she leads the blue off the sands.

Shanatea offers a grin as the gold escapes the shell. "She's breathtaking." he comments, briefly letting her glory soak into his eyeballs. Finally, he blinks and his attention once again turns. "Cat, yaye! Go Cat!" the blue is now hers, and he's quite thrilled for her. Then he hears the bronze cry and turns around to witness that event. "YES, Sev! Whoooo." And he grins. Well, yaye for his friends!

Improbable Dreams Egg gives one violent roll before little legs spring out from beneath it. Those little legs hop-hop-hop and tumble, breaking away the rest of shell to reveal its gooey insides. Oh! And a dragon, too. Time to hustle.

Hoper of Far-Flung Hopes Green Hatchling
There is something undeniably magical about this crepuscular little green. Her slight, thin form is dark and shadowed, deep shades of myrtle sliding in cool, watery ripples along the length of her hide. It lends her a certain sense of mysticism, this darkness, a sort of quiet grace only emphasized by long legs and a surprisingly matched gait. Muted pools of midnight blue add a subtle variation to the theme, playful dashes of cobalt and celadon perhaps belying the seriousness of her physical form. These subtle flickers of her inner nature line the space beneath her eyes, slide over headknobs, and whirl teensy tendrils up the lines of her forepaws before drifting, wave-like, along the length of her sides. Her face contains her most defining feature, a gentle girl-next-door visage enchanted by a luminescent pale green crescent emblazened upon her forehead. Water-bound moonlight winds a dripping path along neck ridges and the leading edges of dainty wings before scattering to the winds, flicks and flecks of seafoam blowing apart in pale imitation of a night sky. Dark green mountains rise up along the trailing edges of the backs of her wings, providing sharp relief to their subtle splendor, but the underside to her wings are curiouser still - instead of matching pitch mountains, there are instead spiralling spires and wired-wrought towers reaching for the heavens like an echo or an illusion, charmed and more than a little spell-binding.

Cita is not swayed — she'll watch that bronze all she wants, thank you, a little concerned in spite of his apparent hale-and-hearty thing he's got going. She'll also glance in the blue's direction in time to spot him standing next to Catwin, which. Well. "Oh, shells. Catwin!" She's concerned, but what is there really to do? Theoretically, they'll be a happy pair, removed from the Touching Experiences. Hopefully. "Shells, no. No! It can go quickly!" The quicker it all gets done with, the quicker she can go bathe off all the sand and fear-gross, right? By the time she actually gets turned back around, the bronze is there, and woah. "Sev!" Cita squeaks, maybe a little, then beams. "Oh, shells."

Lightning Before the Thunder Gold Hatchling realigns her feet and makes the necessary mental calculations to readjust internal compasses forward. This is forward? right? Zoom, zoom! goes that dragon-spaceship that might be a queen (it is), taking charge and actually charging towards the candidates that line up so neatly in innocuous white, clearly only called to the sands to behold her regal beauty, her majesty, her star-speckled hide that - okay, so maybe forward was backwards, and maybe 'candidates' was more Xermiltoth-wards, but at least she doesn't let her obvious mix-up deter her or the zeal with which she slams into her sire. On that headknob. Again. Oh, Lightning Before the Thunder Gold Hatchling. The reflective, protective remains of shell shatter at last, crumbling away from her body as she shakes her head to rid herself of Stupidly-Hard-Bronze-Hide induced jarring, and then turns her crowned head back towards those who remain in white. No, really you guys. She's got this.

From the Galleries> Tanit blinks and grins slowly. Sev will never live this one down. More impressions Cat too is walking off the sands with a blue. Or S'van as he now is named. Well at least that was one well placed bet.

Riohra turns when he hears Catwin calling to the dragon and the tall hunter has to laugh and will cheer for his friend. Then there is S'van who gets his bronze "Wow both Sevran…S'van and Catwin, I hope the healers are restocking the infirmary." He looks about as another green is hatched and there still that gold that he watches out of the corner of his eye.

Sundari is back in time to see not just one but two impressions it seems. A soft whistle escapes her and she scratches at her neck a bit before she is off to gather one, of course the blue hatchling and Catwin first. "His a cute one. Blue's are always a good choice." Even her's thank you. "Come along then yes? We're get you two off the sands."

Storm's Aegis Egg doesn't hatch so much as kind of explode one last time, leaving a vividly blue dragonet sprawled in its eggy wake. With shell scattered in a massive radius around him, the hatchling sits for a moment, eyes whirring sluggishly. The little guy seems to be trying to play it cool, too, flicking bits of shell off of his wings and glancing around airily. Oh. He didn't see you there. But mostly the Unruffled and Unconcerned Blue seems pretty unbothered by what's happening around him. You might even say he's unmoved, but it would technically be wrong. He is moving. He's moving slowly, steadily, towards the mass of candidates. Not that he's actually paying them much attention. Things are a little distracting for that. A large chunk of egg, eyed beadily. The noises a sibling is making. Xermiltoth's foot, directly in his path, examined with cool detachment. He's stymied by that, but - "Que'sa? Me?" Quesadian pulls away from the others, melting a little when he finally gets a hand on the little blue's shoulder. "Alright, Gallinth. It's this way. You go around it." The young man moves off with his new lifemate, talking lowly.

Unruffled and Unconcerned Blue Hatchling
Dainty and more delicate than the majority of his siblings, this little blue would stand out even if he weren't so very blue. Which he is. He is so, so blue. Almost so blue that human eyes can't perceive how very blue he is. It's lucky that his topline and belly are darker and paler, respectively, or he'd be a little hard to look at. The indigo that feathers from his angular snout, down his long neck, over his wings and back and finally his whippy tail is also really blue, though. The saturation goes up, if anything, while the color deepens a few shades, accenting the dainty proportions of this dragon. His belly, neck, and under his tail are significantly paler than the rest of him, softly sky-blue and blending into the deeper shades gradually. The undersides of his nicely proportionate wings fade from indigo to the paler sky blue, but tend to be visible only in flight, as he balances relatively well without them extended. He doesn't need all that holding him back.

With a triumphant cry the Unruffled and Unconcerned Blue Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Kassala cannot help but grin a little as she spies the moment the bronze finds his mate in Sevran… S'van. "Congrats!" She will call out to her glitter-buddy, laughing a little more though soon distracted by the gold as she makes her way towards the candidates. Still, she clings to Riohra's hand, shifting just a little closer to him.

Hoper of Far-Flung Hopes Green Hatchling is here! This is it! This is the moment she's been waiting for; it's a new world, one made for exploring outside of that - ew, egg bits - shell that kept her so confined. They told her that she wouldn't make it. HA! She'll show them. Perhaps after she gets this walking thing down. She takes a step, stumbles, face-plants into the sand and rests. Totally meant to do that.

Baylee winces when she sees the newest green faceplant into the sands. At least the sands are soft right? "She'll be ok." she says mostly to herself, though the crowd around her is thinning. Krenn is still there with her as are Kass and Rio. Probably others too but she's so lost in the moment that it's so difficult to tell.

Shanatea steps around the Impressees, Sev and his dragon, and sidles over towards Baylee and Rio…. He offers them a grin as he gets out of the way and stops nearby, his eyes going back to watch the Sands.

Hoper of Far-Flung Hopes Green Hatchling has got this. She clamors back to those less-less-than-graceful (and dainty!) feet to try for another step and fall again. This just won't do, and she lifts her head to regard the candidates watching her like she's watching them. So she has to perform. She can do that. She tries again - this time with a hop. That worked. One hop, two hop, three hops she goes, bouncing past the candidates intent to find the one meant to travel this world with her.

Cita, apparently having forgotten most of her nerves in the flurry of dragonets-all-around, does a nervous kind of shimmy as she wiggles her fingers at the departing Weyrlings. "You've got it!" She calls, firm and Very Sure of herself in this matter, and she doesn't at all laugh at the little gold blundering into Xermiltoth. Nope. "Little turned around." The healer-candidate murmurs, voice cracking in an attempt to keep it even, before — "Oh, no!" Now she is laughing, helpless. "Awww."

Lightning Before the Thunder Gold Hatchling found the reset button and hit it! HA-HA! Take THAT uncooperative limbs! This way is definitely forward, and she knows that because the (aggressive) momentum of her feet is propelling her towards all those candidate-white robes and uninteresting faces, straight on past them - past them?! - into? THWACK! The stands? Oh, Lightning Before the Thunder Gold Hatchling. That was definitely not supposed to happen, especially not with her head lowered just enough to smash that same darn headknob into unyielding rock. AGAIN. She stumbles back and away, footing uneven as a daze seems to carry her back to the candidates and - right on top of one! There you are. She's found you, and it only took running into one egg, a bronze sire, and a wall to do it! You'll make the next thousand or so mistakes together.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Lightning Before the Thunder Gold Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Krenn looks about at the thinning crowd as yet more of his freinds impress. He beams from ear to ear for them, so proud. "Oh no that green. Yeah I am sure she'll be fine." he responds back to Baylee He watches as the gold approaches the assembled one more time.

Riohra grins a little at the green who is hopping around and says "Yeah Baylee, she is just fine" He looks over at the other eggs, and in such misses the impression of the gold dragon.

Catwin heads over towards Sundari "He is wonderful, isnt it?" she murmurs still a little bemused at being chosen. Then there is S'van. She gives him a shy smile, "Congratulations "

Rebirth of the Elemental Quarter Egg trembles and jumps, popping up off its grainy bed in measurements too small to take. Bits of shell flake and fall away from that single seam, soon heralding the appearance of micro fissures, quick to widen into true cracks. Rapidly they race across the shell into each other, endlessly joining until there is not a single bit left unaffected. The membrane splits, spilling a small amount of gooey contents, until finally a sunlit green hatchling bursts forth and is dumped eggwet upon the sands. Only after circling through every single candidate several times does she drop herself at last before Heyyu and he happily flings his arms around the her with tears in his eyes, "You've found me, Katsuoth! I am your H'yu forever."

Paragon for a Peaceful Nation Green Hatchling
Prim and dainty is this little green, possessed of slender head painted the color of dew-dropped ferns. A caustic effect ripples like sun-dappled leaves that caresses along the uppermost part of her eye-ridges and head-knobs in a shade closely resembling the fresh sprouts of spring. It continues thus, weaving and winding along the entire length of her slim neck as well as kissed upon each ridge until her tail-fork. Her body is particularly lithe and swathed in soft mossy tones which lend her a decidedly velvety appearance, especially over her ribs and sides. Summer's morning light itself touches gently across her back until her tail is bathed in the full glow of star borne glory. Diminutive limbs are darkest pine, a shadowed forest at night, with a hint earthen oak just there at her talons. Long, delicately boned wings mantle around her, the palest wintergreen contrasted sharply with veins of deep juniper.

With a triumphant cry the Paragon for a Peaceful Nation Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

WHUMPH. There she goes! TIMBERRR~. Previously probably about to make some gentle comment about the sweet little green, Cita finds herself buried beneath lots of baby dragon, and oh no. This is bad. Or good. Maybe good. Except — "I can't breathe, 'mnotmute!" the healer wheezes, a little strained, probably on account of those stars floating in her vision. Are they real? Are they not? Who can say. Not Citayla, because she looks like she might actually be close to passing out, here. "Off, Ilyscaeth, off!" She's kind of laughing, possibly, flailing her way back to her feet with some difficulty and glancing around, sheepish. "Sorry." You know, for the big gold scary thing that just happened.

More impressions. The gold goes to Cita! Baylee can hardly contain her excitment for the healer turned rider, "Congratultions to you Cita!" she says with abandon. Some of the anxiety of earlier has bled away into something more akin to excitment now. And then there's H'yu with a green. Oh boy. The weyrlings get to continue the H'yu adventure.

Hoper of Far-Flung Hopes Green Hatchling jump, hops, not-quite-skips with determination and poise as she goes down the line of candidates. She stops along at each one - just to inspect, she swears, her limbs are fine - and then there she is. The one meant to fight injustice and celebrate noisy neighbors and greasy walls with her! She jumps, sticking her landing with nose pressed into the hands of her forever companion.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Hoper of Far-Flung Hopes Green Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Kassala looks about as others get drawn off after impressing, just in time to see the gold hatchling run into a wall, "Oh.. ouch.." But soon the little queen is finding her lifemate, and it isn't her. A call of congrats is given towards Cita, though she chuckles softly, "Hopefully she catches her breath! Again, another finds a lifemate when the green hops by, and congrats are called out once more.

Sundari is back soon enough and is helping S'van and his new lifemate off the sands. "Looks like your have your hands full hum?" She questions with an amused tone to the pair. "Let's go get you all set up." There is a pause and she blinks while looking to Cita and well the gold hatchling upon her. A faint ah escapes her. "Cita…" Well out of the whole lot she knows her. "You two alright there?"

Krenn watches as the last egg hatches and impresses leaving only the lone green. He looks at Baylee and smiles as the green makes its way over to the last of them huddled there in the hot sands. Who is she going to pick?

Riohra hears the dragon sitting and grins he will squeeze Kassala hand back and aww's as the green is choosing there mates "Going to be a roudy class for those kids"

Baylee stands stock still as a voice speaks in her head. "Myrakath." she repeats mostly to herself though others around her would be able to hear it. A wide smiles settles on her face as she wobbles back and forth as she stands in place. "New recruit yes." she says dreamily, "I know we will make this world a better place. Yes. Yes I do." she says, though there are other considerations that must be taken. Myrakath must be fed! Food is needed for training and to make this world a better place you need breakfast, or dinner…whatever time of day it is now because Baylee has quite forgotten. Baylee looks to Krenn with a smile and squeezes his hand before letting it go, "Don't worry." she says and leads Myrakath off the sands toward the weyrlingmasters.

From the Galleries> Then from the vents in the room confetti spills out showering all in attendance in the multicoated reflective paper. It looks like a snow storm of color as it swirls about the room, the view of the sands isn't obstructed but it everything just got really shiny in here.

And then it's over, bittersweet as ever. As Xermiltoth sidles from the sands to greet his new children and charges, R'hyn steps away from the last weyrling pair, hands spreading as he addresses those on the sands. "First of all, on behalf of everyone here at Half Moon Bay, thank you for standing for our clutch. Congratulations to our newest riders, and condolences to those whose day was not this day. Don't give up hope - there is always next time, and we are more than happy to have you stay on with us at the weyr if that is your wish. However, if you prefer to return to your homes, transportation can be arranged at your convenience. In the meantime, please join us for a hatching feast and a day of celebration in the caverns." Hand lifting in a gesture of farewell, R'hyn then turns and heads towards the lingering new dragonets and their partners, gently shooing them towards the exit.

Citayla makes a wheezing kind of noise for Baylee's congratulations, bending at the waist and waving a hand. "Thanks." She might be laughing, sharing the grin towards Kass, before catching Sunny's eye. Abruptly, the situation catches up to the healer, and she glances between the Weyrlingmaster and her dragon. Back, forth. Back, forth. For a moment, it looks like the shock might actually catch up with her — she even sways, a little, wide-eyed. "Oh, Faranth. Ilyscaeth…" She shakes her head, once. Nods. "Fine, uh. Ma'am." The title catches a little, but she's ready to follow anyways.

Kassala may show a hint of disappointment as she turns back, only to realize with Baylee's impression, that there are no more eggs upon the sands, and the last dragonet has found it's lifemate. Another quick squeeze of Riohra's hand, and she lets it go, rubbing it on her thigh as she suddenly feels the heat of the sands. Again, she will bow her head to dam and sire once R'hyn has spoken up, then turns to head off the sands.

Riohra bows as Kassala lets go of his hand he will grin at the chaos in the galleries and head back to the barracks.


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