High Reaches' 1st PC Clutching

Nuff's gold Tiareth x Jh'ral's bronze Rennth
April 5th 1998
Logged by Jh'ral


Living Caverns

Rennth senses that Pavelth plays in the slush… « What's goin' on? » he says sleepy… bored…

Ash hrms… "Not that I know of, and we all know that I know of all the parties…" she giggles

Sefren perks up at the word 'party'. "Think so? Where would a party be?" And why wasn't /he/ invited??

Rennth senses that Tiareth stretches - extends, and with lumpy thoughts and heavy, happy wings she swirms about in the links and dclares, finally, that today is /the/ day.

Shaela peers up at the table of adults. Just her luck. She finally has time to listen, and everyone hushes up. Wait…what was that Sen said? She stands up, brushing off her skirt.

Rennth senses Tiareth is there, here, and all around. » Come ? « She does not command, she asks. [to him only]

Ash perks up, "Um, Tia just told Pav its time…" and the mystery vegetable is forgotten as she grabs her gloves… "Looks like there's gonna be a party afterall…"

Jh'ral eyes Ash, "I think you lost too much blood way back when, you've barely had a glass." - "Ss. Ack." He launches out of his chair, glass shoved onto the bench Ash earlier claimed.

Rennth senses that Hinoth sparkles happily «I found a rock!» That's what's going on..«A rock that…oh» Tiareth speaks.

Sefren looks blank. "Time? Time for what?"

Rennth senses that Pavelth blinks… « TODAY? Like NOW? »

Rennth senses that Dalgreth thinks « Day for what? »

"Time for what?" Shae asks quickly.

Rennth senses that Nazaraeth thinks « YOu are all silly. She clutches. »

Ash grins and is launching herself out of her chair as well, "Eggs!" she says following the weyrleader… a rather large grin on her face

Rennth senses that Tiareth confirms. « Now. » Right /now/. Her thoughts are all rough and bumpy, like that packing paper people put into parcles - pop pop pop.

Rennth senses that Sindiath rumbles, disturbed from a nap by a mass of people…«Tiareth….clutching?» she murmurs, then adds «Why does that always mean crowds?» draconic sigh of resignation follows

Rennth senses that he fidgets out of his hidey-hole, saying nothing.

Ash exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Stephen blinks, "time?" he echos, questioning standing to his feet. if j'ban wasn't here, hhe'd might as well join in what ever it was that was happening.

Rennth> The gaping maw of the upper Sands' tunnels breath hot, heavy air.

S'fyre hits the ground with a sofgt thud, quickly tossing back his hair and glancing in alarm back at his lifemate's excitedly whirling eyes "Now?" more of a wondering then a question really…

Sen steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Rennth senses that Cherenth burbles cheerfully. One way or another..it's all good.

Shaela steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Rennth senses that Nazaraeth thinks « I think they like watching queens do something that is natural.» And that they're sadistic, but he's not gonna *say* that.«So..keep us company, Sindiath! »

Larisseth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.

Sefren steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Rennth> Tiareth arrives, wings wide and struggling to carry her immense, belly-heavy bulk. She barely clears the tunnel into the sands and drops like a stone towards the welcome warmth.

Ash grins and waves to the crowds in the bowl… where do they all /come/ from… "Gonna be a long night, that dragons lumpier then I've ever seen 'em…" she passes Saf and chuckles, "I believe that's what the dragon said…" and with a wink she's off across the bowl

Sen grins and waves to S'fyre "Hey…..you probably already know, if that dragon of yours remembered to tell you..eggs are coming?"

Jh'ral has no batting waves or verbal greetings for those here, but beelines for the northen bowl and its heated sands.

Landry hikes her sack gingerly over her shoulder and ducks into the infirmary. Special Delivery, ayup. Catia will be pleased to have a replenished needlethorn supply.

Sen continues, heading north.

Elle swings a leg over Larisseth's neck, sliding swiftly to the ground with a *swish*.

Lilli looks at all the people pouring out of the caverns. Wow.

Ash continues, heading north.

Rennth> Rennth drops after, with a trifle more grace.

Sefren continues, heading north.
Elle continues, heading north.
Stephen steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Meandering further 'neath spires' watchful spikes, you head north.
- And into the hatching grounds, as well.

Landry, Shaela, Elle, Lilli, Torey, Madalyn, and Stephen fight their way
in from the bowl.

Landry scampers, flushed. Impeccable timing.

Landry, Shaela, Elle, Lilli, Torey, Madalyn, and Stephen head to the right
and into the galleries.

Rennth senses that Dalgreth thinks « crowds? Why do humans want to watch eggs being clutched? »

A single step and the heat increases. Another and it gets hotter still. A few more and you are out onto the Sands themselves, bathed in waves of warmth.
Sands
Heat rises - ripples - wavers in a stifling curtain that envelops dragons and eggs while smothering riders and visitors. The black sands have been raked into ruts and dips, an alien, uneven surface for anyone trying to walk across them. Some say tension seers the heat: residue of hope, fear, relief, sadness, pain and ultimate joy staining high grey walls and lurking about the many viewing ledges that speckle the walls. Ancient murals of dragonlore fade across the walls near gallery and entrances.
Tucked warm and watchful upon a ledge is Topaz.
Gold Tiareth is here.
Nuff is here.

Topaz spots the queens and promtly veers away, Tiareth would not be in a good mood right knw.
Topaz catches an updraft and promptly disappears ::between::!

Jh'ral takes the path less traveled - wisely not traveled - and arrives grimy and dusty and dirty to join Nuff.

Nuff
Obnoxious gold ringlets tumble down around this rosy-cheeked cherub in a perfectly divine halo of treacle and amber; if not truly angelic, at least she may look the seraph's part from broody heather-violet eyes to bottled-sunlight smile. Stolen sun has baked her pert features rum-gold, the tan extending itself across her motherly frame and down through Weaver's fingers to the very tips of her immaculate nails. Turns away have pared the excess flesh off this weyrwoman, lending her a subtle grace only occasionally overrun by her old wherry-drunk discontrol.
Susurrant lavender trimmed indigo drapes loosely over her pale torso; sisal flows through the crossed vee of fabric over rounded chest to bare Nuff-belly before resuming its tumbling folds down to mid-thigh. The skirt flares outwards in lighter shades of purple that gleam with shifting golden threads, matching satin petticoats of the same rich metallic. Her boots are, of course, lined in purple - one puce, one lavender, and the same colors entwine the ribbons that curl about every coil of her hair. Fish coils speckled gold around the chubby neck.
Nuff is 29 Turns, 11 months, and 16 days old.

Tiareth
Wyverthian ferocity carves this immense, mature queen, now accustomed to her tremendous length of limb. Knobby, bony wingspars lilt with a fired, faintly purple sunrise, their golden sails further beaten to true, midmorning translucence, and the brilliant force of midday strikes overlarge talons and haphazardly spaced neckridges; fierce, angry heat boils along the sunswept highlights on the tortuous kinks of neck and tail, and dances hearthfire's glow within her hungry gaze.
Egg-heavy, brood-heavy, 'Reth's sides swell with the lumps of countless eggs.
Tiareth is 15 Turns, 10 months, and 16 days old.
She is 41 meters long, with a wingspan of 68 meters.

Jh'ral
Silver streaks his once-brown hair, lending some rakishness to what otherwise is a very plain face: brown eyes, okay cheekbones, largish nose, middling mouth, and crow's feet. He's mid-height but on the lean side, with a certain air of whimsy to his freeflowing limbs.
Leathers have him in their clutches. Slug claims a shoulder with taut talons. Jobber just hulks.
Bay-bronze twists the weyrleader's knot of black and blue.
Jh'ral is 49 Turns, 1 month, and 5 days old.

Rennth
This dragon has aged well, now nearing his prime. Bay-bronze brightens the extremeties of wingtip and talon while that shade darkens in thicker regions; his hide is smooth and solid, shifting in gradation rather than color. A lean curiosity guides the flex of planed muscles - and the tilt of muzzle - while inertia holds his tail steady.
He is 36 meters long, with a wingspan of 60 meters.

From a ledge, Niraneth scrambles in, careful of wings and tail.

Tiareth struggles a landing, gouging a long deep shallow run across the black sands. Her belly for wheels, she comes to a staggering stop near the far end of sands and flicks faintly purple wings. She's here, she's here. Where's Nuff?

Rennth> Battered by thermals, you circle lower and lower till *thud*, you reach the relative safety of thermal Sands.

From a ledge, Niraneth attaches her thin frame to a rough ledge like a vine, claws digging into well-worn crannies like roots, eyes bright and wild. She sticks out nose out and down, takes a whistling gulp of air through her nostrils - looklooklook! Look. Lookie.

Rennth senses that Hinoth flickers in fiery annoyance «/I/ still think my rock is more interesting…»> he snorts lightly

Jh'ral eyes Tiareth, "She's fat." And he could use some of Stephen's diplomacy.

Nuff is here! See? Purple sisals, golden curls, water jug in hand and the star on her hat wriggling and waving through the air. She ducks away from the landing queen, running up towards Tiareth's head and kissing the end of her nose. "Don't listen to him Tiareth. You's not fat. You's just Lumpy."

Rennth coils, insofar as a bronze can, on the far edge of the sands and out of the way. Watchful, watchful, badly-disguised eagerness sketched across his muzzle. Okay, so he's not quite as nonchalant as he pretends.

Tiareth /is/ lumpy, and its all Rennth's fault. She turns her head up toward the older bronze, muttering dragon-like, and then waddles up over Nuff to her prepped castle-of-sand in the corner: parapets fall, walls crumble, and the gold just settles herself on to of the mound, raking it with her talons.

All Rennth's fault. Never was guilt so happily taken.

Nuff knows enough to get out of the way. Struggling against the sand that threatens to suck and drag her in under those painted paisley talons, Nuff worms her way away from the dragon and trundles over to Jh'ral, panting. "Ow ow ow. Can't this part just be fun?"

"Lumpy, then," Jh'ral gives way easily, "although considering you call her lumpy even when she's /not/ about to clutch - " But twigging clutching dragon's rider is sometimes unwise, " - I wonder if Catia or some healer ever came up with a painkiller for dragons like there is for humans. Birth is birth, whether live or in shell."

With one final rake of the sands, and a whirly-eyed look at Rennth, the queen shimmies herself down against the sand and promptly lays the first of three eggs in quick succession: white on white, glimmering wet and faintly opalescent, the soft leathery shells immediately pick up the black grains as soon as they touch the sand. Tiareth turns, investigating them with her muzzle. She remembers this.

Nuff shudders, no drugs for her. Well mebbie. But any tummy pain is soon lost as she claps her hands in glee and tugs at Jh'rals sleeve. "Look! Look! Here they come. Even if she wanted to lay them at Ista. Look Jh'ral? Oh how tiny they are, they are." And, grinning at Tiareth, Nuff adds. "And yes, yes of course they're beautiful. They aren't Jhanath's."

Rennth does the puff-chest thing, although he's not a dragon to usually do so. It doesn't last long as his nose creeps toward the new-laid eggs. Investigate, investigate, maybe not a good idea but ideas don't rule in Rennth's mind.

Tiareth lifts her wings, fanning them high above herself and the first of her many eggs. Cool eggs, chill eggs, snowy-white and blizzardy eggs. She noses thema bout against each other for a moment and then, dropping her wing to hide them from those who try and see, the gold promptly buries them beneath a little hill of sand.

Jh'ral is tugged, his ash-dark flying jacket fortunately left behind in the caverns, so there's little ash to fall from his tunic. Still grimy, though, he wasn't quite as sensible as some to immediately clean up. "I'm looking, I'm looking - Eggs. Here. Yeah." Beautiful? "Sure." But he's grinning.

Nuff grins again and, as Tiarenth shifts back to stretch herself out and hunker down again, preps for another set of eggs. Chubby hands pat her tummy, rubbing at it like a little buddha for good luck, and she just watches, wide-eyed and still amazed.

Tiareth does hunker down, and she does shudder and settle and prepare to deposit some more eggs. A shiver ripples her glowing hide, almost as if winter's chill has reached her even on sands' warmth. Without a sound, without a flurry, an eggs appears. Kerplunk. Then, like a litter of pups, more follow. A rather inqusitive little egg completes the set, its entrance into the world causing Tiareth to flinch, rather like one would when touched by a cold puppy canine nose….*brrrr*!

Nuff thinks clutching /is/ uncomfortable, despite her well insulated boots and Tiareth's general reticent in sharing. The occasional mule-stubborn kick of pain to her rounded tummy does little to dissuay Nuff's delight in the eggs - white eggs, leathery egg, cool and wet and quick eggs. The number produced quickly grows from three, to seven, to nine, and more. Each one carefully considered an then quickly buried. She turns from the dragons to the galleries and grins, waving. "I see you!"

From a ledge, Sen steps carefully in from the galleries, the Hatching Sands displayed below them.

Not quite as shocking as that exiting touch, the next few eggs have their own peculiarities: skewed in roughness and now clung to with sand and grit, the tan and grey-peppered egg is nothing so much as a chunk of ice. As ice does not belong in a dragon, neither does the sasparilla-tinged one that quickly follows, shell fizzy-white-and-brown.

From a ledge, Sen sighs with relief, leaving the crowds behind, sipping her now cooling klah as she looks to finding a seat…she finds V'kyre instead "Well….looks like you had the same idea" she smiles "I am too tired for all that noise….." she nods back towards the galleries….

Peculiar is good, Nuff is peculiar. Admiring the eggs, /her/ eggs, Tiareth shifts again and turns her attention to the sands. Like a baker prepping the dough, she tampers grains and warmth to get just the right hard-packed consistency. The thermal-baked sand is soon frosted with anoter egg or too. A creamy oval, its shell lightly tinged with sugary highlights, plops to the sand all soft and leathery. Tiareth emits a satisfied croon: good enough to eat, that one. And then, eyes swirling, she fixes her gaze on Nuff - but don't you even consider it.

Jh'ral does a toe-heel rock, unconscious movement that pauses with each egg desposited in the sand. If wishes were dragons, Jh'ral would be flying - and Nuff … would be Nuff.

Nuff would be a cookie. Instead she shakes her head at Tiareth, happy to aggree today and turns back to Jh'ral. "Rennth's clutched before hasn't he? I mean he's not all new to this? He looks sorta scared over there." Poor little Rennth. Tiareth, for her part, is happy to have him over there, but is glad he's around. Someone who understands true art should be here to appreciate their creations…. even if she did do all the work.

Safer than sugar-dusted eggs, the next few are still tinged white. But there is no yummy sweetness to the ice-blue artistry that sneaks out amidst that group, twisting patterns of arctic silence claiming the sands in an immediate, if subtle, battle.

Jh'ral stops on the heel big of his rock, the flashing grin somewhat quirked, "Well, no, but - might as well be, with his memory. Been twenty turns or more."

Rennth fidgets, talons puncturing the sands-that-can't-be-hurt. Takes all the fun away, really, if he were concentrating on such things. But he's not, there's Tiareth - and she did /not/ do all the work, he twisted around those spindles enough to deserve the reward of … Tiareth. Nuff. Something's wrong with this logic, but Rennth's oblivious.

From north to nowhere, the next egg is just suddenly there without any straining on Tiareth's part at all: slipping out in seeming obscurity, this wintry-white egg is here, but not here, there, but not there. It flicks in and out of reality within the blurr of the sands, and almost appears to steam slightly. Before its truly seen, or adequately inspected, Tiareth buries it with the rest between two other snow-cool eggs.

Nuff nods, quick like. Curls bouncing and so too does her hat. Hot, she tugs it off and puts it down. "Uhuh… long time! Tiareth says she prolly won't bite him. Probably. She hasn't yet. Other mates, I mean. Kazumi, now she bites. She bit Nuffie."

Sticky and stuck, the next few eggs aren't so obliging. Tiareth shifts around a bit, wriggling her rear and shaking her tail. Hey, it works - drizzling fingers of vanilla drop into cocoa and berry, drop on the sands to be promptly knocked aside by the cheery purple - purple! - refreshment that sleeks its glossy, grapey way into summer's refreshment.

"He might bite back," Jh'ral sets few standards for such a reactionary dragon. Rennth lives for the moment.

Nuff giggles then. "Well. Good. Likely that's the best way." Nuff turns to Tiareth to give physical expression to her continaul flow of happy encouragment. She waves her arms, flickers her fingers, wriggles her butt to match the queen's and then, with the arrival of purple, squeels with delight! "Tiareth! A purple one! I knew you could do it!" Nuff promptly claims that one for herself.

Wheat's spring thrush slips easily out after Tiareth rests for a moment of two, perfectly oval and she's happy to have it be so. Planting it in the sand for hatching's later harvest, she has little time for tending before hoarfrost sets in, morning's chill overlaid in shell.

Tiareth follows the frost with a well-deserved rest. She turns faceted swirling eyes on Nuff, building the conspiracy, and then after awhile turns to Rennth - come closer, come closer, I have something to show you. Sides heave again, but she waits for her mate.

Rennth tracks furrows as he creeps, slinks inwards - tail lifting cautiously over an egg or two. What-what?

A rumble, a twist, a wriggle of her hide - Tiareth nudges Rennth and then, after straining and huffing and raking the sand, she deposits a single, simple, gold-washed shell: white-wine and amber, cool and swift and by far the largest of all the eggs yet, it sits decadently in the coil of the Lump's tail before she carefully nudges it towards the bronze. Pride lifts her wings again, rippling back and forth with delight.

Rennth senses Tiareth ripples here, too, gold and bronze riffling her thoughts. « Neat huh? » to him.

Rennth curls careful claws around the flaccid shell, large though it may be. His own wings arch in echo, response, and /surprise/.

Nuff liked the purple one better, but dutifully admires the large egg before it too gets buried out of sight. "Yes yes, I know. Yes. Yes its very nice. Yes. Yes, I'm sure Rennth will be pleased." Not that Nuff would know.

Rennth bespoke Tiareth with: Rennth isn't fidgeting, in thought or in physical movement. He's not. Blankness meets her rippling thought - until, err, » Big! «

Tiareth wriggles, nosing the egg with her muzzle a few more times and then she does add it to the others but sets Rennth on it, watchdog.

Jh'ral quietly confirms, "He's pleased - I think. Actually, I think he's braindead. Which could count as pleased." /Jh'ral/ is pleased.

Rennth is watchdog, watchdragon, but not demanding identification. He's already got it.

Amber tumbles once more from Tiareth, but this is the fiestier frost of good ale and mead - which is no doubt what, if dragons could rink, Rennth needs. Grinding confidence jigs after, psychedelic and too cool for words, but hold the pink.

And gold again, flagrant in sunset and bright coppery bronze. Smaller than the earlier egg, tiny even, and burnished with fire. It too slips as smooth as silk from Dragon to sands and is eagerly tucked away. Tiareth moves slower though. The eggs coming further apart and, between clutchigns, she rests longer each time.

Nuff stretches too, hearing some comments and others, she does. She has big ears. "Ooof… she'll be at this for days, y'know. Though usually gets most of it over at the start and broods over a few dozen more over the next little while. She was huge, this time, so it should be awhile." Nuff looks around, "Guess that means I'm stuck here awhile too."

"You could have her roll you in the sand to bake until hatching time," Jh'ral suggests facetiously.

Almost done for now, her hide barely shifts: darkness and stillness dominate the contours of the egg that slides to the sands. Tiareth's straining causes it to emerge into the world of light and warmth where it rests for a moment, almost forgotten. The egg seems to be lonely despite its companions, desolate even. Distant. And then Tiareth tucks it away.

So many tucked away, Tiareth's stomach sags still, but it's the droop of an emptying bag rather than the lumpy press of flesh. The eggs come slower, the crowd thinned but the urgency also diminished - the moss-green egg takes its time getting down the tail and out onto the sands, its silver-grey and gold glimmers picked up by the sands as the wet shell picks up the sands.

Jh'ral picks up the fidget Rennth has forsaken in his egg-tending. "I think that's it for now - ?"

Nuff chuckles and makes happy moony faces at Tiareth. Then she makes happy moony faces at Jh'ral. "For now… I think I'll stay for a bit." Nuff and dragons. "If you'd send some weyrlads with a cot and the usual things." Water, wine, weaverings… cookies…

"I'll bring the cookies," Jh'ral promises. She may not have been at High Reaches long, but he's got that down pat.

Nuff grins quick-like. "Thanks."

Jh'ral doesn't have far to go to find said weyrlads, and sends them off for the cot and other normal accountrements - they return after he's left in pursuit of the odder desires. Rennth is planted much like that egg near the beginning of all this, tail cautiously against a moss-green egg while his nose brushes white wine.

Rennth senses that Hinoth just takes this opportunity to inform the others that he found the most amazing rock…..

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