Janja Hosts a Hatching

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Rooftop Patio
This roof patio extends over the part of the living caverns that juts out into the bowl. A set of stairs has been carefully hewn from the rock, leading up to a flat expanse that is covered with normal dirt and topsoil. Trees and flowers grow in this section of the created gardens turn-round, all carefully trimmed and cultivated by the weyr staff. There are several benches scattered about, each secluded and private due to the surrounding foliage. A stone path winds through the expanse, leading to the other parts of the gardens.

Basket of Sands
It's a simple woven basket filled with creamy white beach sands. Nestled within are a few small sandy bumps. On the edge is pinned a note. "Belonging to Janja. Please see her for information. Beware of Feyruth." The note is penned in a ridiculous purple shade of ink.

type 'lo basket's egg name' to see eggs.
Its in the Details Egg
Run the Maze Egg
Many Worlds Egg
Into the Next Square Egg
Great Snowy Wilds Egg
The Beech Hanger and the Honeycomb Egg
Going Up in Flames Egg

A large gold dragon sails down from one of the lower weyrs to land in the bowl very near the living caverns and their roof top patio. As Feyruth settles down, Janja slides down and starts up the stairs. Meanwhile, the gold sticks her head up over the edge to look closely at the basket. "Oh, all right already, I'm getting rid of them!" Janja says with a sulky tone. Feyruth snorts and Aurora curls more tightly around the basket edge. Janja moves over to lightly push at Fey's head. "Move, dear. She's nervous."

Perhaps strange. Perhaps not so strange is that someone is already here. Someone has taken the trouble to bring a small table and a chair as well and made herself a sort of nest in the corner of the airy perch. It's a carefully calculated spot where the occupant of said nest can watch both the stairs that lead up onto the patio and the goings on below. The eaten and dried out remains of a meal suggest that she's been here for quite some time as do the multiple mugs of spirits that have become ghosts. She almost dozes off at one point but the sudden arrival of a boisterous someone and a big gold head stops that from happening. Eyes grow wide. "Is there something going wrong? Do you need a hand?" says Corrigan.

Scratching and clattering against stone noises can be heard before an overgrown brown canine plods away from the near maze of berry bushes. A moment later, Trayvel makes a none to speedy appearance. He carries an old beatup sun hat, currently being used as a berry bowl, and is perch to a chirpy blue. The Monocoan, former Half Moon candidate, is tosses a plump little fruit in his mouth before holding one to his shoulder "Here Pip." A tiny burst of juice dribbles down his fingers and the flitter's muzzle as he chomps into it, getting a chuckle from the visitor. He's on the slow side to realize he's no longer surrounded by thick bushes and high hedges, but when he does thanks to the queen coming in for a landing, he's quick to call his canine friend back. "Chief, get over here. Last thing I need is having to replace yet another garden bed of stuff." He dips his head in a polite greeting and keeps plopping fat berries into his mouth as he watches the dragon and riders from across the patio.

Wh'ton isn't at first so concerned with where he's at. He has a mug full of something and the stairs seemed to invite him upwards. If he gives pause at the juncture of the rooftop patio coming into sight the that gold, and although the flights been awhile memories of even participating have clearly left a mark. The patio is then surveyed a bit more cautiously.

Janja whirls around in a circle, blinking rather vapidly as a voice brings it to her attention that she's not alone up her. "Er. Um. No?" The response is as much a question as answer and the gold 'huffs' at her rider even as she does lift her head a bit higher. "Oh. You're right of course." Janja says inanely. She takes a moment to pull herself together, straightening her clothing with both hands. Finally she lifts her head to look more closely at who's around, nodding absently to Trayvel. "Actually, I don't suppose you want a firelizard? Feyruth is, er, not overly fond of them." She shoots a worried look over her shoulder at the gold who really seems perfectly fine. "She's convinced they are going to hatch and she's been insisting we find them homes. Elsewhere." As she says this, a young boy comes running out of the living caverns and up the stairs, pushing past Wh'ton as he goes. "Here's that meat." He says with a skeptical look at Janja. "Don't look ready to me" is heard as the boy heads back down again.

Corrigan's mouth is something like a :| at the news of what is going on. Okay, she didn't expect that. Maybe a basket of kittens or something but firelizards are such a mundane thing that it seems out of character for the gold to be perturbed by them. At least to her. "Right." She quips back to Janja. "Good." That means she doesn't need to do anything. So she goes back to her vigilance, choosing to ignore the goings on. Her :| face breaks only while she takes a drink, keeping her eyes open for someone below. What changes all of this is the green head that pops up beside Feyruth's. Much smaller than her and small even for a green, Iennth is practically dainty. She looks between Corrigan's back and the basket. Corrigan's back and the basket again. A small, almost plaintive trill comes from her mouth. It sounds for all of the world like a sad puppy and the hard-looking woman at the table heaves a sigh that is full of resignation. The trilling suddenly sounds happier and then cuts to a short, expectant sound. "Damn it." Eyeing her long-dried supper, Corrigan pushes herself away from the table and stands up. As she does, she slips her brain out of 'work' mode and the :| countenence relaxes into something a little bit more personable. "I'm not going to get out of here without committing." She says ruefully, not seeming to mind really. It's clear that she's being dragged into this but she's at least a willing participant.

Trayvel makes slow work of a few more berries with Piplup's help, the flitter making a bit of a mess eating the tiny fruits. Chief stays right on Tray's heels, giving that really large dragon a wide birth. Trayvel only recognizes one of the faces gathered around the patio, so offers a friendly enough, if sticky, wave to those he doesn't know. Overhearing about giving away eggs, his feet take him closer to Corrigan's table while his eyes drift towards said eggs. Then a young brat is bringing meat and running off again. "Hello everyone. I'm Trayvel, from Monaco." Another head dip around to group, smiling at the little green that pops up over the gold. He didn't even see her over there. Some chittering from his shoulder gets a eyeroll "Yea yea…And this is Piplup." He extends his berry fill hat. "Berries anyone?" That's a fair trade right? Handfull of berries for an egg. What could be more fair than that?

Wh'ton is pushed, mmm, meat! Well he shouldn't be rude, flights are one thing and everyday life another. He sucks and slowly lets out a deep breath before stepping boldly onwards. He wouldn't know much about eggs but there's no reason to not be polite, murmuring greetings to those about, ever potential customers, and a more formal one to Janja accompanied by a bow "Good day weyrwoman Janja, Feyruth."
With a bowl of fresh raw meat chunks, Janja puts on a somewhat forced smile. "Hello, Wh'ton. Trayvel. Welcome back to Half Moon." She sort of offers/shoves the bowl of meat towards where people are starting to congregate. Hopefully Wh'ton will join them there because Feyruth seems to be giving him a rather closer look then previously. "There are plenty to go around." As she says this, Aurora gives lie to the kitchen boy as she begins to trill a little welcome song to the eggs, just as the details egg begins to rock. "Oh!" Janja squeeks nervously. "Here they come!" Feyruth gives an oddly grumpy croon of welcome and pulls away to settle down for a rest.

Its in the Details Egg

At first it is an innocently chaotic mess of random colors and shapes. The shell is a mash of loud, disorganized lumps. Any color, any shape, it can be found here seemingly without purpose or intent. And yet a closer look gives dark lie to the first impression. There a dark splatter becomes dried blood. There a scribble of black and gray defines into a magnifying glass. A ring of gold becomes a wedding band. And finally, strokes of brown, a pipe.

Its in the Details Egg begins to slowly rock in place. The movement builds until it's rolling steadily. It rubs lightly against it's neighbor the Into the Next Square egg before rolling gently away again. The egg takes a short rest after rolling over and begins to rock again.

Wh'ton is sort of in the area now and finds the bowl of meat near for a few moments. It seems the thing to do to take a few pieces if he isn't sure exactly why he's doing so again. Then again the way Feyruth is eyeing him, perhaps it's a little snack for the larger queen (anything which is not him at least) to garner some favor with the junior. Or maybe its the magenta shirt he'd picked out this morning and he can't help but twist a little to show off the stylish cut. Pretty? Painful? Maybe the dragon just has… good taste, if his might ever be questionable.

Corrigan's :| face is now completely gone, but she remains a little aloof as of yet. She keeps her distance by a few feet from everyone but is still in the immediate area. Her green at least, looks absolutely keen. In fact, the dainty dragon is practically bouncing on her feet. When it seems like Corrigan is just going to keep on not speaking to anyone she does, in fact, break the ice. Her smile is a half one, one corner of the mouth and aimed primarily at Janja. "Is she always this cagey?" She wonders about the retreating gold. "Something about them that she doesn't like?" Lips purse in thought. "Well, obviously you have one of your own. I wonder why." Belatedly, she looks over to Travel. "Hello." A reserved smile for him, but it's an actual smile. "Corrigan, of no particular residence. Green Iennth's."

Trayvel tosses one more berry in his mouth before putting the 'bowlhat' on the table out of his way. A flutter of twitching motions pull his eyes back towards the cluster of small eggs as a few of them seem to be ready for action. Casting another glance around towards the others, he shrugs and finds a spot to plop down near the meaty bowl. His canine flattening to crawl under the table. Maybe thinking it a good barrier from the very large dragons. Tray leans back slightly as he peers down to see the large dog trying to make himself look small. Neat trick with such a large goofy thing. Shaking his head at the canine's antics, he coaxes the blue from his shoulder to settle on the tableedge. "As long as no one objects, I'll try to tempt one." Flashing a lazy grin, he eyes the meatbowl and grabs a couple of strips. He offers one to Pip before waiting on the little hatchlings to break free. While he waits, he listens to those around the table, eyeing the dragons briefly when they are mentioned. Maybe matching faces to name. Corrigan get a grin. "Nice to meet ya both."
Into the Next Square Egg stirs ever so faintly on the sands. It's just a hint of movement not really a rock or roll but definate movement. The sands slide slowly and the egg stills.

Janja's smile brightens at Corrigan's introduction. "I'm Janja and yes, Feyruth..um…has opinions. She tolerates Aurora but she was most definate about no more." The gold remains mute on this point. "Would you like to join Trayvel in trying for one?" His dog is mainly ignored as it seems to hae taken the smart choice here by hiding under the table. As more eggs begin to move, Janja scoops up the basket and brings it closer to the table where the others are gathered at. "Here we go, nice and easy." Beam! While she's at it, she snaps up a couple of those berries to keep her own hands busy. "That's the spirit Wh'ton. You go there with um..that exciting color." She eyes the rider's shirt thoughtfully. "You know, I've got some lovely blue that would just look wonderful on you."

Many Worlds Egg is pushed aside as the It's in the Details egg begins rolling around rather dramatically. The two strike sides with some force and the cracking sound that ensues indicates at least one of the eggs has broken. Both of them start moving now and it looks as if the race to hatching is on.

It's Elementary Green Hatchling

She moves with feline grace, a long and sinuous build slinking along on slender limbs and paws. The silken hide is a pale spring green, like new foliage growth, with a natural gloss as if she were dew-kissed. It clings and slides over the soft supple curves of her elegant form where the narrow, delicate frame of chest and hips accentuate her longer length. Light airy wings are even more pale, if possible, and slightly undersized. When the mix of light and shadow is just right, the faintest hint of a herringbone pattern seems to emerge in the near transparency of her ethereal sails. Flecks of blue and gold litter the long, slender paws with sharply curved talons.

There is a little bit of a rueful smile on the part of Corrigan. "It isn't something that is in character for me." She admits. "I lead a nomadic life and caring for a hatchling … " She's going to say something else but it's interrupted by an irate sound from the green head peering over the patio wall. " … but as you can see." She adds and informs. "I'm not getting out of here without it. And if I don't do my best at it, I'll never hear the end of it. I don't know if *YOURS* is anything like it, but *mine* can sulk like nobody's business." While it might seem like she's complaining, the hard looking woman's tone is actually jovial. She too, steals a berry with her left hand. She pops it in her mouth and then selects a bit of meat, producing a knife from her sleeve whereupon she begins to slice it carefully into extra manageable bits for a small hatchling. "We'll see how it goes though. I'm not the best at imploring anyone to do anything by being nice." There's a wry grin, but the sense that she's being honest comes through.

Into the Next Square Egg

As though wrapped in a quilt, the shell engulfed in neat squares of country landscape. Gentle, domesticated streams and neatly trimmed boxwood hedges broken by quaint wooden gates create the edges of each square. Some are rolling green pastures sprouting wooly white bodies and others carefully cultivated woods with carefully maintained riding trails. There are even a square or two of tiny little country homes. Where's the next move?

Into the Next Square Egg finally decides to join with the others in the whole rocking and rolling activity. It begins with a slow, easy shimmy and builds steadily to a full on rocking. Its a bit late as the arrival of the little green takes some of the attention away from the egg which continues to push towards hatching.

Wh'ton sidles up to the table, fingers playing idly with the meat. He notes the little firelizard with a small awwww, but mostly he's distracted by the thought of complimentary colors he replies to Janja, quickly drawn in "A blue you say? One can never have enough and that comes in such a lovely spectrum. I like the brighter tones myself." if you couldn't guess.

Trayvel glances towards Wh'ton's bright ensemble and gives his own rather drab clothes a dull glare. Shrugging it off though he turns his attention back to the basket of eggs as Piplup's hum joins in with the others. He winces at the hits the eggs seem to be doling out to each other. "Are they fighting among themselves already?" He cast an uncertain glance around the table with a little chuckle. He looks between Corrigan and her dragon and can't help but grin "Better not argue with her then. My cousin says it's sometimes easier to just go along with them." Reaching forward, he tries to nudge the meatbowl closer to Corrigan and Wh'ton so his plump Piplup isn't feasting while everyone is distracted with the green that breaks out first. "Oh, she'll look nice with the shirt you are wearing." A quick glance to the weyrwoman and adds. "Not that he doesn't need a blue short to go along with it. The more shirts the merrier."

Many Worlds Egg

A vast expanse of endless darkness cloaks the shell in somber night. Pin-points of light sparkle in the black like slivers of gemstones sprinkled across a bolt of black velvet. Ghostly lights of witch fire green and glacial blue swirl countless spiral galaxies over the blackness. Nebulas of scarlet explode into fireballs of light, giving birth to more stars and planets. They spread ever outwards into an endless miniature galaxy.

Many Worlds Egg bulges on one side as the being within struggles to push it's way outwards. A small crack caused by the last collision spreads with each bulge until the end finally breaks. The rest of the shell just seems to fall apart without the end support as the new hatchling rolls onto the sands.

Ever the Sport Bronze Hatchling

He is the quintessential bronze: athletic with a trim build and strong limbs, and a brilliantly metallic hide. Though average, he seems large with proportions running towards the long, lean distance runner. Molten bright, he is a fiery polished red-bronze. Copper filaments traced along the clean sharp angles of a masculine head. The luminous bronze scuplts a smooth powerful body and limber legs and tail. Those copper filaments return to highlight the bright points of bone and roll scintillatingly within the bright stretch of delicate wingsail. A gentle smattering of dark, tarnished freckles sprinkle along the ridges of his eyes, trace down the narrow muzzle and splatter in the hollows of his flanks.

Janja nods firm agreement at the idea of dragon opinions. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that she sulks." A deep warning rumble comes from below indicating that Feyruth is listening even if she isn't watching any longer. "Um. But she definitely can get her way when she wants." A possibly more then that. "Feyruth is…" The rider leaves off with that. Maybe the others will add their own thoughts about Feyruth but likely not. "She's a little thing isn't she." The bronze arrives and Janja gets very quiet.

Corrigan hmms. She tries to live her life thinking outside the box. So, she murmurs an 'excuse me' for a moment and returns to her table. She roots through her plate for something from the long-ago-discarded meal. The same knife that was used to cut up the meat that she's got cradled in the palm of her hand is put to use again and she finds a piece of fish that is not dry and appropriately sized. And so, meat and fish comprising her armaments she returns to the table. "The worst is when I'm trying to work and Iennth is doing nothing but sulking in the back of my head. It's hard as all get out to concentrate." She says it affectionately though. "You know, I've never actually been at a firelizard hatching before? I've always avoided it. Too social for me." She turns her head to see what Janja is looking at, nodding in agreement. "Tiny." She agrees, then peers at the bronze. "That one looks downright like a hunter. I've seen a few impressive looking ones but he's going to grow up to have all the greens and golds after him, and with an ego to match most likely."

It's Elementary Green Hatchling staggers to her feet in the ungraceful way of newborn things. The clumsiness doesn't last for long as she quickly attains the feline grace offered in her appearance. One step, then another, she strides to the side of the basket and seems to examine each of the blubs visible. A demanding creel sounds. Hey!

Corrigan also remembers to lower her hand to the edge of the basket, containing both morsels of fish and meat. Two for the price of one! She doesn't really care if she gets bitten as she's hardly being gingerly about it. She is trying to actually make a point of making eye contact with each of the lizards as they emerge, waiting to see, and quietly — though she wouldn't tell anyone — hoping one finds her to their 'taste'

Ever the Sport Bronze Hatchling isn't as quick to his feet as the green but his manner of drawing attentin is more amiable. A happy little creel accompanies the stumbling struggle to stand. He crabsteps sideways back and forth, half stumbling to the basket edge where he drops down, temporarily tired.

Trayvel cants his head as he lowers it closer to the table, getting a more eye level view of the small green hatchling. "Yea, but she's adorable though." Quickly holding out a little bit of meat, he wiggles it gently as Piplup chitters encouragingly. Tray cringes at the demanding creel "Well hello to you too little lady", spotting the fierce looking bronze that tumbles to the sands. "Hunter huh? Let's see…" He carefully draps a strip of meat on the edge of the little basket, keeping a firm grasp on his end. "Fishing is 'sorta' hunting right?" He flashes an amused grin to the others before darting his attention between the two hatchlings.

Wh'ton has much to ponder but a crack of another shell and his attention wanes towards the little hatchlings. The green seems to be making progress and a bronze joins. "My, my" what a handful any of these is likely to be and yet their colors are just as interesting as many a fabric he's considered. A bright toothy smile is flashed to the others present and while he doesn't push amongst the growing crowd as the hatchlings emerge, the meat he's managed to aquire is held as close as he can manage. Or maybe away from himself to keep any blood from spattering, no definitely hatchling-ward as the bronze also makes his way to the basket's edge. "Hungry anyone?"

It's Elementary Green Hatchling snatches some of the meat placed on the basket edge. She gobbles it down quickly and moves on to sniff at what Corrigan has. But the smell of the fish must not agree with her as she turns back towards the boys with another demanding creel.

Into the Next Square Egg builds steadily towards hatching. Any time now the shell will give way, as attested to by the slow spread of spiderweb sized cracks moving across one side.

Ever the Sport Bronze Hatchling was just taking a rest. Really. And he is hungry, so with a surprisingly quick snap, he surges to his feet and snatches Wh'ton's offering right from his hand. The bronze backs up a few steps to snarf the food down but like a growing boy he's quickly back up and on his feet for more.

While the others are leaning towards the basket, Janja is leaning away from it and careful to keep her hands full only of berries. "I should bring Javelin to have some of these. They are quite good." she says, nibbling daintily. Apparently all the activity is getting to Feyruth who lifts her head again to watch. Without even turning to see, Janja takes several steps backwards until she's leaning up against the gold's long muzzle. "Yes, my love. You will always come first with me." The gold gives a rare, soft affectionate warble.

Corrigan doesn't seem dissapointed by the green's decision. She's honestly half expecting that they are going to pass her up. Afterall, she likes to think she's a pretty hard hearted person. Fortunatly, they most likely know better. Most likely. She's still watching the bronze though. "Did I mention that he'd grow up with a rather large lack of table manners in addition to being a catch and an ego?" She teases. Though there's probably truth in it. "Javelin?" She asks Janja, questioningly, while holding out her hand again. She hasn't noticed that juice from the meat is flowing over her fingers )(and the bit of fish). It's a good thing she doesn't care about getting bitten, because she's totally asking for it.
Trayvel laughs as the green steals his bait in a flash and just as quickly dives away. "Hey! She stole my bait!" More amused at the tricksie green, he hurriedly gets another bit to drape on the basket edge. He makes sure to have more of the meat held firm than he offers out though, moving it sporatically in hopes to catch something that lurks below in the basket. *wigglewiggle* "Herrrrrrrreeeee lizard lizard lizard." A snort when he sees Wh'ton lose his bait. "They are all thieves!"

It's Elementary Green Hatchling eyes Trayvel and his bait like a curious puzzle. Her expressive eyes very clearly show the thought going on behind them. Methodically she walks up to the wiggling meat and snatches it neatly away. Not even the hint of fang shows but the meat flashes down her gullet. Boldly she wobbles right on the basket edge, hanging nearly off into Trayvel's lap. Another demanding creel sounds.

It's Elementary Green Hatchling looks into Trayvel's eyes. Impression!

Into the Next Square Egg continues the journey until spiderweb cracks become canyons. Flashes of pale color spark within, spreading until the shell just gives way. It leaves the hatchling sprawled tiredly on the sands, covered in shell and fine beach sand.

My Own Invention Gold Hatchling

Gossamer rings and fairy light plate encase the queen in glorious bright armor. Freshly cast plates, golden bright, protect the springy broad chest and back to hang delicately over the supple muscled haunches. Fingernail sized plates overlap to curve over the crest of her serpentine neck, splitting around soft, gently whirling blue eyes to protect the exquisite wedge of muzzle and cheeks. White gold ringmail clings to the slim, powerful legs tipped by burnished gold talons. Those pale rings continue on tail and flanks, peeking out between the chinks in her plate. Her wings are a vast spread of sail as bright as the sun but made of rings as fine and light as spinnersilk. Though large, she still has an elegant femininity and sensual softness to her build.

Wh'ton blinks in a bit of surprise at how fast the newhatched creature can move. Mmmm, meat!? if the first bite was a teaser the next gob is sure to be a feast if the youngster is so inclined to be tempted. "Ah, you are hungry aren't you?" a softer affection slips over his face as he but waits to see if the hatchling will choose more.

Corrigan is still watching the bronze. Dang. "I'm not even a firelizard and I think he's pretty. Too young for me though." In a way, it's too bad that nobody here has met Corrigan before. The usually far-reserved woman is opening up to a degree that is almost unheard of for her. Helped along no doubt by the mental urgings of her green, but the hard heart is not quite so hard today. Someone who can't stop eyeing each person wondering if they have something nefarious to hide is actually finding that she can enjoy herself and properly socialize among her peers. It's a good feeling, even if she'll probably feel a bit amiss for it later. "What did you say your name was?" She asks. "Trayvel? She's pretty. Look after her." Faranth, she's actually smiling. And it's not a half smile, it's a full and genuine one. She's so caught up watching where the bronze goes that she actually misses the first flash of gold that comes from the egg. "Eh?" She says, and her head rapidly turns. "Wow." She says. "If ever that bronze had a sister, that would be her." A look at Janja. "Did you know she'd even mated with a bronze? Any idea a little queen was coming?" Corrigan also doesn't forget to keep her messy hand level with the edge of the bowl.

Trayvel watches the too smart little green as she watches his bait. Blinking in surprise when she stalks right up and snatches it away again. He's quick to reload, hooking bait in his fingers again. "Oh no you don't, not getting away after I've already started feeding ya…..whoa wait!" he lunges his hand out to be able to catch the demanding little hatchling when she nearly climbs right over and off the basket edge. "Eat eat, just don't bruise your beak in the process." When she scrambles onto his palm, Trayvel offers her more and more juice bites. Anything to keep the creels at bay. "Come on now, all ya want. Want some berries too?" He grabs a couple and drops them in his palm, they are promtply ignored for meaty bits.

"Javelin is my son." She smiles happily to herself, though her eyes are closed. "He's why C'vryn and I had to leave Igen. The climate didn't agree with him." She starts to hum happily to herself until "Oh? Really?" Her eyes flash open to peer thoughtfully at the green and Trayvel. "She seems to have firm opinions herself. Looks like a handful to me." And Corrigan is the one who brings her attention to the eggs. Janja shrugs. "Honestly, I had no idea. I knew she'd mated cause you can..kinda feel it?" A glance goes back over her shoulder at Feyruth before she whispers. "Not at all like her but.." The rider shrugs and seems relieved that Feyruth hasn't taken offense. "But no, I had no idea there was a gold egg. THey all kinda look the same. Not like the dragons, ya know?"

Ever the Sport Bronze Hatchling is indeed hungry and he happily snaps up yet another piece. This one has a bit more substance behind it, so rather then back up, he just stands in place chewing away placidly. His flashy sister is given a mild look and that green is well out of his way so all the food for him, right? Like a typical male, he settles right in next to Wh'ton and his offerings, waiting patiently for the next piece.

Ever the Sport Bronze Hatchling looks into Wh'ton's eyes. Impression!

My Own Invention Gold Hatchling wobbles clumsily to her feet. Even moreso then those that came before, she seems to lack grace. Just about every second step or so she stumbles, finally coming down face first into the sands again. A squawk of surprise sounds and she just struggles back up and steps out again. The second fall comes right near the basket edge, sending her dangerously close to over.

Corrigan flicks her eyes at Janja, eyebrow raising. "That's an interesting name. He'll grow up unique for it. I sort of know how it feels. Some nanny pulled
Corrigan out of the AVIAS records. Thought that it would bring me a touch of culture to be named after ancient history. I'm the least cultural thing on Pern. I think they wanted an artist, or they wanted someone with a touch of class. No, I chase bad people across Pern for a living. Most classless ass around." That would explain what she'd been doing watching people, too. Either way, the temporarily not-hard-hearted woman looks about at the nest and the remainder of the eggs. But, she's watching the Queen too. "Careful." She can't help but say, then frowns because she said it. She's not supposed to be that caring, remember? Bad Corrigan, bad. She extends her meat and fish juiced hand as though to catch her from the fall, but remembers how taboo that is. Plus that would earn her a bite for sure. So she actually draws it back a little from the small queen. Out of the corner of his eye, the one she'd declared a hunter is seen to find a home. "He's going to be a damn handful." She says, a little smile again. Eyes now, back to the basket, a little look of concentration on her face. She lets some of the 'juice' run off of her fingers onto the edge of the basket. A good smell?

Wh'ton ahs "Well now, tasty is it?" he takes the little bronze and pulls back from teh crowd to allow others not yet so luck as himself to get closer to what hatchlings are there and may yet emerge. Plus he needs to find more food, and given the growingly impatient chirps, fast.

My Own Invention Gold Hatchling is a little slower to stand up again this time. The seems to be in reaction to the dripping moist sand around her. While others might actually be eating, she's examining the sand. Her mouth opens and tongue reaches out to taste the gooey spot. Quickly she spits the sand out again with a squeek of protest. Not food! Her muzzle lifts and her body follows as she searches around for where the smell is coming from. Finally she settles on one of Corrigan's fingers. Her mouth opens to fasten on if the hunter isn't quick enough.

Trayvel grins and shakes his head as the little green ignores the berries. "Don't want none of that huh." grabbing more meat he tries to keep up with the starving little hatchling, Piplup's head extending towards Trayvel's newest keeper and churls softly. Tray chances a glance back towards the basket as he urges the green more safely on his lap. "Oh, wow. She's…." a pause as the newly hatched queenling takes a tumble and he refrains from saying clumsy "…gonna need a moment to get the legs working together…owe!" Looking quickly to his hand and the green tugging almost viciously on his thumb "That's not food silly." Grabbing more pieces, he resumes feeding til she starts to slow. Smiling to Wh'ton when the bronze claims him "Congrats."

Now, the downside of talking so much to Janja? Of Corrigan being as social as she is? This is why she doesn't typically do it, because she often gets in trouble. For some reason, her eyes leave the queen for just a split second and that is all that it takes for her to lock her jaws around the woman's finger. Surprisingly, there's no yelp, though that has to hurt. And hurt bad. In fact, if anyone is looking reaaaaaally carefully, the huntress' eyes water slightly with it. "Not that." She says, quietly. "Though, I was asking for it, wasn't I? Come on." Very gingerly, she pushes a bit of meat and fish towards the queen's nostrils, trying to get her to realize that tastes better than her finger. She makes no attempt to pry her off or shake her or anything like that, just 'eating' the bite as it were.

Janja isn't afraid to say it, even if Trayvel is. "She's completely without any grace." The rider shudders at the idea. "Um. I'm sure she's be lovely though, right?" But the tone of her voice seems pretty doubtful. "I think your little green is going to eat your hand if you aren't careful." She adds as if he'd not discovered this for himself. "Oh!" Her eyes widen and she switches attention to Corrigan, as if told to look. The rider winces. "That's got to hurt."

My Own Invention Gold Hatchling most have bitten on more then she can chew because she's quick to let go and fasten onto the offering of meat and fish instead. Finally, food! With the first bits going down she looks eagerly towards Corrigan for more. Please? the soft blue eyes seem to plead.

My Own Invention Gold Hatchling looks into Corrigan's eyes. Impression!

Trayvel gives an agreeable snort to Janaja "Sneaky little thieves that bite the hands that feed them." Casting an amused glance towards the others, he nods to the weyrwoman, smirking as she voices what he wasn't about to. Though he winces as Corrigan gets chomped too. "Hopefully it won't need a visit to those healers. Congratulations."

If Corrigan was talking to Janja, she's totally forgotten it. She's forgotten it because of the pain? Maybe? Yes, no? It's hard to say. When the little gold finally lets go, there's a pretty serious little wound there. She'll need to get it stitched as it's pretty near to the bone, but that's the least of her worries. What we have here now is someone who spends her life doing things that nobody else wants to do; of dealing with horrible people, seeing tough things. Years of doing it have hardened her heart — so she wants to think — to the point that nothing can reach it. However, as she pushes the meat and fish to the gold and slowly slips her non-wounded hand under it, putting the damaged finger in her mouth out of habit, someone might notice that her eyes are watering pretty seriously. Yeah, someone actually has some feels today. Her green actually emits a puzzled sound, so out of character it is. "Mmmblb." She says through her finger to Janja and everyone else. "Mhank Mhew." A pause. "Mamnit. Stupid myes. Crying mecause it mhurts." She sounds completely embarassed. "Mhank mew." She says again to Janja.

Janja waves the thanks away with a vague hand motion and smile. "No, its ok. You're doing me a favor. Feyruth really wouldn't like another queen around." And this time the shudder isn't subtle at all. No, there's general fear at the idea. Feyruth adds her affirming rumble to this, causing Janja to turn around and embrace the golden muzzle. "Never, ever, my heart." She mutters in a full on besotted voice.

Trayvel smiles and pulls his gaze back to his newest friend. She clutches a bit of meat with both paws a she gnaws. The green has mostly filled her belly now, but she's still not letting go. Tray rub fingers along her neck and back gently, bringing her up to his face to get a better look at the tiny little thing. "You're so cuteee." Since the green has had her fill now, he lets Pip have what's left of his pile. After a moment, he peers up to the conversation, gaze going to the queens, big and little as Janja gives some of their demands "Enough is enough huh?" A little grin and he shakes his head. "Don't envy you." Looking quickly to Corrigan "Not that yours will be as demanding as the weyrwoman's."

Setting pose lost due to repeated crashes.

And, of course, Pralayth's never one to be left out of the loop when it comes to anything. The patchwork brown saunters up ever-so-casually to join Feyruth and Iennth, head cocked - just so - to watch just what's going on. As for his rider? Well. Rezia's not far off, really; the former trader is just hustling along, a heavy knapsack bouncing on one of her shoulders. "You could have said something earlier!" Pralayth utters a throaty sound, one that sounds distinctly snarky, and Rezia runs her tongue out in a noisy thpppt at the beast. Her trio of 'lizards are already there, of course; gold, brown, and blue, they're happily humming away somewhere nearby. Rezia slows down as she approaches the danger zone, as it were, and pauses to catch her breath - and raise a hand in a vigorous wave toward Janja, of course! "Hi, hi!"

Ebeny has the look of one who has no absolutely no idea where they're going, yet has a purpose pulling them forward whether they like it or not. When she reaches the top of the stairs, she inches aside only enough to allow people past, then lifts up onto the tip of her toes to peer about - past people and around them - and ultimately gives a dejected sigh and a twitch of the scroll she bears in one hand before continuing on forward with evident little hope of fulfilling her mission. Not so far into her journey, her footsteps bring her towards table and basket and gold, and she seizes the opportunity to enquire, "Anyone seen a woman about this," she gestures about the level of her collarbone, "tall, Harper?" Which is, of course, terribly descriptive.
Oh! Bodies! "Hello Rezia." She exclaims happily. "Here, you need this." With that the rider hurries over to the table and grabs the meat bowl, shoving it towards the brownrider. "You do!" Hopefully Rezia catches it because Jan scoops another little handful of the gooey mess out, heading for the disappointed appearing Ebeny. "What ya got there? Scroll?" With her free hand, she reaches to attempt to take the scroll while handing off the handful of meat with the other. "Could you hold this? I just need to look real quick.." The goldrider leaves off in her flakey inane way. "Just there. " she motions over her shoulder towards the basket, though to which visitor it's impossible to tell.

Going Up in Flames Egg

Helter-skelter they lay in heaps and mounds. Great stacks of books rise up into the fiery cataclysm. White moldering pages contained within slips of equally moldering leather, small, tattered but loved paperbacks, or crisp white sheets held snugly between cardboard covers, it matters not for all burn equally in the ever changing red-orange flames that encircle the egg.

Going Up in Flames Egg has been shaking steadily the whole time and emitting small chirps and cracking sounds. Those build frantically to the point of no return as the egg *snaps* hard, a large jagged crack splitting it nearly in two.

"Oh! Oh jays. I knew about- but, oh, you know how it is, yeah?" Rezia doesn't seem to be any less scattered than Janja, though it's not helped much when Pralayth snorts gently and gapes his maw in a sly grin. The bowl is readily taken, however, and the brownrider's grin is practically luminous as she chirps, "Oh! Oh, thank you, Janja! And, oh! Remind me-" which, sadly, might actually be meant for the brown than the goldrider, "-I managed to get a lead on some lovely fabrics just the other day." Of course, as soon as the goldrider's off to do something, the trader-girl is distracted herself; the shaking and cracking of eggs is enough to render her breathless - and completely worthless to the visiting Ebeny. D'oh. She shuffles over there to peer at the eggs, while an opportunistic Satin slinks over to snitch a bit of meatstuff.

Run the Maze Egg

Dark like drying blood, the red base is overrun with a maze work of black lines. The passages wind and twist around the shell running parallel and perpendicular with a plethora of dead ends to confound the eye. It seems pointless with no discernable beginning or end, yet, there in one tiny little dead end is the white fuzzy maze runner racing futilely towards some unknown purpose.

Run the Maze Egg pushes rapidly closer to hatching. The thumps and bumps turn into bulges, this leads the egg to rocking back and forth in time to the internal kicks. One last hard kick shoves the egg end over end and the bottom simply shatters against the sands. Most of the top half remains still covering whatever is resting momentarily within.

Unfortunately for Ebeny, when she gestures, it's with both hands, which just makes reaching for the scroll all the easier. "It's nothing really important," she hastens to explain to Janja. "Just some slight alterations to the harmony of—" She's really no more together in the next moment, neither protest nor further explanation forthcoming, and while she tries to form /some/ kind of answer about what she's ended up swapping for the scroll, she just follows 'orders' and shuffles closer to the basket, all the while rather unwisely watching the goldrider instead of those eggs.

Maybe Janja isn't quite as stupid as it sometime seems. She's ended up with the scroll, which is held carefully in her clean hand while she frowns unhappily at the juice coated hand. "Feyruth, dear, I think I need a towel or something." The gold sighs, in a put upon manner. Meanwhile the goldrider has managed to step well away from the table and basket, leaving two poor more victims just as more eggs hatch.

In Remembrance Blue Hatchling

Blue the color of glacial melt water hones the fine lines of this firelizard into a thing of crystal blue edges and angles. Though tiny, he is perfectly proportioned with a sleek, elegant body and graceful, fairy limbs. The slender features of an angled head feed into equally delicate body and wingbones. Nearly monotone in color, he has just a hint of Han blue on his paws, the hollows of his flanks and cheeks, and the trailing end of his sails. Those sails seem slightly too full for the supporting bones, leaving the edges billowed and furled in delicate little waves.

Stoking the Fires Green Hatchling

A little waif of a green gives off an impression of a glorious wild thing, free and unattainable. She is at once both dainty and powerful with a curiously delicate strength, similar to a gazelle or fawn. Her head is a little narrow, echoed by the shoulder and hip bones so that she seems elongated even for her tiny size. Even her wings are long and narrow with unusually short sails for their width. A cloaking of mint green coats her from tip to tail, overlain by a lacework of metallic emerald cut in the shape of flames. As she moves, they ripple and she seems ablaze.

As it turns out, Satin's a bit more canny than his owner; he doesn't eat the bit of meat but, rather, dangles it in the direction of the basket while Rezia just stands there, bowl in hand and eyes wide. "Oh, oh, oh. They're lovely," she breathes. Pralayth, for his part, just blows out a breath - likely the equivalent of an audible rolling of eyes - and continues to watch from his safe distance. Sure, Rezia's right in the line of fire - but she'll be fine. Really.
One second. Two. Three. Ebeny looks down into her palm, to the cracking eggs and back again, and though her focus rests with clear interest upon one hatchling, then another, she starts to say, "…I really don't think—" as she glances back to Janja with more urgency, as if she could get the scroll back by sheer willpower. Cradling a handful of meat at the same near distance as paper is truly not so wise, and only belatedly does the greenrider begin to notice the dark marks pooling on her boots and on the cuffs of her trousers, which makes her swing out that hand at a greater distance and towards the basket to avoid more mishaps.

In Remembrance Blue Hatchling is slow to rise to his feet, possibly due to having to shove a great shell half off of his body. The poor tiny thing sits panting a moment while Aurora continues to sing above him. Finally, he gives a determined push and rises with more grace then the norm for a newborn thing. The delicate very sized sails drag a little on the sands behind as he starts to slink over towards where the yummy smells are.

Stoking the Fires Green Hatchling is not at all like her clutchmate. She is fire and passion and all that entails and so she's pushing to her feet before even fully out of the shell. One paw catches on a bit of shell shard and she stumbles. But rather then fall, the stumble turns into a skip/glide and before long she's nearly dancing her way to the edge of the basket. A creel of hunger is sent to the nearest visual blob, a demand for whatever that lovely stuff she's got in hand. Hey! Down here!

"Oh! Oh, you naughty thing! That's not for you - that's for the babies!" Rezia tsks at Satin, who chitters and, predictably, drops his meat scrap on the ground. He's quick to retrieve it and wing back to where Suede and Silk are, leaving Rezia to, finally, figure out the (by now familiar) puzzle of holding meat out for the younglings. "You're a dear! Oh, come on, gentle fellow! You must be so hungry! And, oh! You poor girl!" The chatter continues in the same, chirping and breathless tone; it's all encouragement, of course, kept just loud enough that the babies might (maybe, possibly) hear it.

A sound comes from the living cavern door below, a high pitched fear filled sound of a young boy. He screams out the door. "I'm coming, Janja. /She/ spoke to me again. Could you ask her to stop doing that?" The voice is quickly followed by a young body, one of the many kitchen help holding out some more meat and several cleaning clothes. He shudders, whispering to Janja. "/She's/ scary." The boy shoots Feyruth a fearful look and runs away, leaving the bemused Janja holding scroll in one hand and a pile of clothes with a bowl of meat balanced on the other. "Oh dear."

She starts to say it again, though by now it's futile protest against her own actions, for the creeling of the green hits the new mother in such as manner as is impossible for her to resist. "I really—" But Ebeny lowers her hand towards her all the same, her expression twisting in an odd mix of sympathy and concern, yet whether the latter is for the hatchling or for herself is not very clear. She surrenders in the next moment, her clean hand no longer clean by the time she's selected a piece of meat and held it out to make the whole affair easier.

In Remembrance Blue Hatchling seems to like the encouraging noises for that's the direction he heads towards. His movements are slow and deliberate, as one who has to think of each step before taking it. Once to the edge of the basket, he looks down, gapping at the long drop. But the smells are coming from somewhere overhead and so he lifts his head up and up, calling with a curious chirp.

Stoking the Fires Green Hatchling gets the first few drops off Ebeny's attempt to save her clothing right on the head. She ducks away, turning in a small circle in an attempt to see what that was that hit her head. But this doesn't last long. Ebeny now has the yummy stuff right at hand..or should it be head. The green turns back as the meat approaches and snatches it right up in a quick, greedy gobble. More?

Wh'ton seems to see Janja's difficulty, and stowing his sleeping friend away, comes to her rescue. "Oh thank you!" While the bronzerider takes the meat over to add to the diminished pile of before, Janja puts the scroll down and starts to use one of the clothes to clean her hand off. "It's so…icky. And these cloths." She shudders. "I hate burlap. Why does anyone ever use it? Horrible stuff."

Oh, that smile. Rezia beams down at the baby blue and lowers the bowl, only to fish out a few scraps with her free hands to offer them directly to the inquisitive creature. "There, see? It's lovely stuff, I swear. It's really the best!" She continues to croon encouragement, even while she wiggles that tempting treat at just the right height for him. "And you are such a handsome fellow, too! Oh, how you'd shine with some nice oil! Wouldn't you like that?"
Ebeny obediently supplies more food, mindful to not simply hand over piece after piece too quickly. She smothers a quiet curse and gives a quick shake of her head. "What am I going to say when I get home?" is soft enough to be for the little green, the protest bleeding from her to be replaced by half-reluctant concern. And yet she keeps feeding her, withholding mouthfuls until she's sure that each one has been dealt with, no matter what it might earn her in the way of creeling.

In Remembrance Blue Hatchling is surprisingly quick after his methodical behavior before. With the meat so enticingly close, he snaps it right in and nearly swallows it whole. Of course this leads to a bit of hacking as the piece was /just/ a hair to large but no real damage was done. And say, isn't Rezia just wonderful? The blue looks up rather adoringly as he pleads for the next bite.

In Remembrance Blue Hatchling looks into Rezia's eyes. Impression!

Stoking the Fires Green Hatchling hops impatiently between pieces, the dance continued in mini tantrum form. Finally, she seems settled on obediance to this source of all that is wonderful and the next hop is not of anger but one right off the edge as she tumble/flies her way onto Ebeny's hand. There, that's better.

Stoking the Fires Green Hatchling looks into Ebeny's eyes. Impression!

Hands now clean, Janja is again attentive on what's happening at the table. "Oh, look at that. Two more down, Feyruth." The gold gives a pleased croon as Janja absently pats her just at the top of the muzzle, tiny hand ridiculous in size to the head. "May I have a look?" she asks, walking closer to see what hatched while she was dealing with gross hands.

"Ah! There we are. See? Isn't that much nicer?" Rezia deftly scoops the wee blue up into a hand while she feeds him, her other three moving quickly to take their respective places on her shoulders and the top of her head. Of course she'll present the wee one to Janja - and, eventually, to Pralayth before she must reckon with her own gross hands and a slumbering ball of blue.

There's a single piece of meat left in Ebeny's palm by the time that the green tumbles into her hand, and it's one that she lets her find without keeping her from it, but it also means that her first bath is not in water or oil, but in the bloody remnants of the meat. The greenrider makes a sound that's not so far from the baby's creeling as she notices the bloody marks beginning to line hide, and turns abruptly from the table, still cradling the hatchling, to look to Janja to both show her the green and deliver a faintly pained, embarrassed look for the new state of her.

Along with these, two other eggs were gifted prior to hatching to responses to Janja's add.

Tevla received The Beech Hanger and the Honeycomb Egg.

The Beech Hanger and the Honeycomb Egg

In a field of deliciously green grass, the curving shell of the egg becomes a rising hillock, crowned by a small grove of silver-barked slender trees. Their branches wrap around the shell, coming full circle to spread a great canopy of leaves with snatches of golden sunbeams streaming down between. At the base of the trees, where roots meet fertile earth are dozens of warm brown holes leading beneath.

To See Beyond Blue Hatchling

Small and frail is the first impression from the blue firelizard. Weak and spindly limbs hold an equally fragile frame with an over expanse of jutting wings, while a narrow bony face surrounds unusually wide and expressive eyes. In color he is a pale silvery blue, just slightly more blue then gray. Shadowed motes of dark Prussian sprinkle faint kisses of darkness across the hide, liken to the splash of sunlight through trees. His wingsails are so light and airy as to be near transparent and are the color of blue ice.

Isade received the Great Snowy Wilds Egg.

Great Snowy Wilds Egg

Cold and stark at first, the endless wintery white landscape rolls billowing piles of snow over the feet of a towering mountain range. Stretching up the jagged slopes rise the thickly laden boughs of fir trees, so completely covered with snow that only the faintest hints of pine and bark breach the chill white and gray. Yet there is a pull, a subtle yearning to be free and wild in this forbidding land.

A Distant Howl Brown Hatchling

A blaze of fawn runs down the center of the broad head to completely encircle the short, thick muzzle. Walnut masks both bright, alert eyes and runs down the top of the heavy-set neck. Most of the rest of this muscular brown is the same pale fawn brown though it does nothing to diminish the mass and strength of his build. Only a wide saddle of walnut and the heavy, broad walnut wings breaks up the monotone color, followed in the end by a spattering of oddly shaped walnut splotches along his rump and tail.

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