High Reaches' 9th PC Clutching

Nuff's gold Tiareth x Zi'n's bronze Orbyth
26th October 2002
Logged by Pyrene

<High Reaches Weyr> Cadgwith senses that Tiareth stirs the cauldron of expectation, mentally preening. « It is time. » So come one, come all, to the Clutching Faire!

Row upon row of stone benching rises above the Hatching Grounds, seats for those who come to watch the incredible experience that is a hatching. Each individual seat is embellished with a worn cushion, the only concession to comfort in a place that traps heat, holding it within so that those who watch are inflicted with its intensity, though on a milder level than those who must stand and face the dragonets. The expanse of sand that is the hatching grounds spreads out in front of the benches, a huge stage for a spectacular show.
Settled along stone are seven firelizards.
Yarid, Wyn, Miria, Larnat, and Laytai are here.

On the sands, Nuff is late? Nonono, of course not, she's Nuff. She knows just what time it is. "Yo Tiareth", running her hand along the dragon as if she were some overgrown Runner. "All set?"

On the sands, Orbyth moves into the heat, shimmered and blurred by the ripples that rise off the Sands.

On the sands, Zi'n uses a coppery-tinged shoulder to slide to the ground, aided by an impatient flicker.

On the sands, To Tiareth, whatever Nuff does is fine. A nose reaches down for half a second to nudge the gold's rider, before the same head swivels to Orbyth. Are you ready, my love? May I let go?

Larnat lurks, hand instinctively clutching something wedged deep in her pocket. The treasure, is, of course, marks/marks/marks. What's the fun of a clutching, after all, without the joy of /betting/? One can at least bet on the amount, of course. Heehee. Larnat always takes a sort of illegal glee in placing bets. Erm. Go figure. A hand's cocked at Wyn, too, upon her greeting.

Sinead darts up into the galleries and quickly finds herself a place to sit, preferably one with a good view of the sands. "Larnat," she hisses and gives her friend a wave, as well as a wave to anyone else up here that she knows.

On the sands, Orbyth arrives on the sands just in time, from the look of it. Rumbling proudly, the beast seems to nod to Tiareth - lay away, dear! Zi'n just looks… hot. Hot sands. And Nuff. Not a good combination.

"Go on, dear," Thesy gives her daughter a light push, "there are others looking for seats too. Look, over there, are two free ones beside Pyrene. Lets go get them, alright?" Chuckling the bluerider follows Isthy as the girl makes her way as fast as she can through the crowd at the galleries.

"Anyone fancy a wager on the number of eggs in the clutch?" inquires Wyn, traces of greedy hopefulness masked by her cool alto tones. The bluerider sips at her flask, (A fine Benden sherry from her father, for the curious.) and pats a seat nearby as she spots Larnat zooming in. "Larnat! Come sit…" Hah. A mark has been spotted.

Pyrene watches with wry amusement and a certain vested interest. "Thesy," she murmurs idly, squeezing her bony behind over to make room for the bluerider, although her daughter gets viewed askance. "Are you betting today?"

On the sands, Nuff steps back then, knowing when to get out of the way. She cheerfully trundles over to where someone - or something - has been building her a nest and kicks aside a few things to find something to stand on. She turns to Zi'n. "Well. My oh my. Deary me." Nuff's ever so articulate.

Kieran steps in, grinning at his luck. Figure that. How often does his family's trader caravan stop by a Weyr just in time for clutching… He takes an empty seat, grin only getting wider as he hears some betting start. Nah, but his 'rents are too stingy on marks to let him waste some.

Yulianna comes traipsing down from the ledge with a whole slew of Ista Weyrlings at her heels, shrugging out of her leathers and a woolen skirt to reveal her gather gown. (My, someone has gone all-out for this.) She drapes the former carefully over a bench before settling on them - nothing like cleaning dirty sisal, you know - and leans forward eagerly to peer at the eggs. "Did anyone say how many there were?" she asks of Sapha and Lyria, the two 'lings nearest her.

Donis walks in.

Mireilla peers down in hopes of getting a good look at the golden mother to be as she makes her way to an empty seat and waves goodbye to her friend with a 'thumbs up' in grateful thanks for the lift to the wetr.

Sinead grins. "25!" is shot towards Wyn, yes, that's how many eggies there will be, or so claims the guard. "25's a good number for any clutch, aye?" she nods and goes about watching the little eggs. And so she watches, until her cousin traipeses in and catches her attention. "Yuli!" she exclaims towards the gold rider.

"What's happening, is Tiareth laying?" Donis asks excitedly, tramping up the stairs with a clutch of boys his own age. Beware the 'Reaches brats.

Sapha slinks along with the rest of the Istan contingent, clutching her riding jacket closer her teeth chatter. Yeah she forgot that part about the snowy weyr. "Okay where you wanna sit?" She asks of her fellow weyrling. Eyes sneaking over to her lifemate she sits anyway. "Um they haven't come out yet." The greenlet offers helpfully to the Istan Queen rider. "But I'll let you know just as soon as they do 'kay?" She curls up in her seat ready for the show.

Etheren walks in.

Shaela comes up the stairs.

Laytai slinks her way past the gallery doors and stops for a moment, peering our to find an open seat. Preferably near someone she knows, and with a good view of the sands below. Sinead and Larnat are noticed, as are a handful of others, but Laytai keeps on a one way course near her guard friend. Scowling as she dodges all around the large group of people, the young runner plops herself down and crosses her arms. No one is gonna take her spot.

Larnat shifty-eyes Wyn. "Maybe," is noted bluntly, although a sparkle hangs about in her eyes. "I'm not sure. What were /you/ thinking?" is asked of the bluerider shrewdly. Ehehe. Well. She'll figure it out eventually, and she seems to have taken up Wyn's offer of a seat, because she makes her way over. Klah-flask still dangling from her left hand, of course.

On the sands, Tiareth finally decides the Sands are ready; raked and mounded, trenched, contoured, arranged, and re-arranged till the complex network of hills and valleys spirals up towards a central small tower of earth-warmed grains. It is a pretty sight, with the dragons attending, anticipation shimmers like sunlight in the air. And then, with a stifled squeak of protest and a shaking of her hiney, the old High Reaches gold gets rid of the most irritating of her eggs. And look, its Purple. Nuff will be pleased. Tiareth is just happy to have it out of her.

Spiny Purple Sea Urchin Egg
Sharp-cut spikes of midnight violet streak across the curved surface, their harsh outlines razor-sharp against the blatantly snow-white shell. A large, dark blotch of purple-black caps the rounded lower half even as these sword-thin rapiers reach towards the narrowed point of the egg with deadly intensity. Shimmers of sunswept gold flicker across the inky darkness to lend lifelike movement to these needle-sharp spines in a dare for anyone to lay a hand upon this egg.

On the sands, Nuff /is/ pleased. "Oooo… mymymy. What a pretty color!" Nevermind the egg is hideous, or appears that way. "Of course I'd like them any color, Tiareth, but that one's lovely."

Lyria trips right along behind Yuli and Sapha, dropping down next to Sapha, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged, elbows on her knees, and head propped up by her hands. I hope that made sense. "Uhm…I'd put money down on about…" She cocks her head,considering,"Ah, around twenty-two?" But Lyri's never been the betting type, so although she would put marks on it, she doesn't.

Yulianna blinks in surprise at Sapha's statement and drops her forehead against the palm of her hand, murmuring, "Miyakath, love, warn me before I make a fool of myself." She clears her throat, straightening up and revealing a stain of pink on her cheeks, and nods, "Right…so…How many eggs are there, Sapha?" she asks again, this time with an amused sparkle in her eye. Forget the fact that she's very well aware that Tiareth did in fact just -lay- an ovid.

On the sands, Zi'n joins Nuff on her corner of the sands, and just watches the dragons with something akin to awe. Imagine, going through that kind of… oh, no, he won't get into that at all. Orbyth doesn't seem too bothered by the situation - on the contrary, he looks rather proud. /His/ eggs. His. Well, and Tiareth's, but still. He made them. … Wait, it's purple! How… un-manly. Tiareth made them. Yeah.

Wyn smiles serenely, and makes a little note in a small notebook in her lap. Bluerider, bookie… same thing, right? "And your wager, Sinead?" she calls over to the Guard, before consulting a list of painfully-neat tables. "Mmm, I hold opinions," she notes to Larnat. "I don't /bet/ them. I'd say, oh… 25 to 30." she theorizes. "Older queen, nearing the end of a Pass… certainly nothing of Ramoth-ian proportions. Oh! And there's the first one." Wyn is pleased. "Quite nice-looking."

Thesy makes herself comfortable beside Pyrene, "Maybe, maybe not. You know I never felt much like betting", she grins. "Has it started yet?" At the sound of many feet trampling up the stairs, she turns her head, a shadow crossing her face swiftly as she recognizes Donis. But then the first egg catches all of her attention. What a promising beginning …

"Oh! Oh!" Donis and his cronies get all excited as out pops the first egg, in a shade of dark purple. "I reckon 30!" one of the lads calls out recklessly - starting to gamble young, and is drowned out by exctied shouts of other numbers. "35!" "40!" and the voice of reason from Donis, rumpling his black curls with one hand: "25!"

Kieran stops staring at ths sands to look over at Laytai - who had just plopped herself next to his seat. "Uh.. sorry" he squeaks, then turns bright red. Trust his voice to crack at just the wrong moment. He scoots a little further away, leaving the girl more seat-space.

On the sands, Nuff glances at Zi'n and makes as if to poke him with her elbow. "Y'know, Zi'n", she drawls in a nuffish sort of way. "You do know they're saying Orbyth is a glutton, and should learn to share High Reaches Queens?" Nevermind Tiareth hardly never shares nothing, not even ugly spikey little purple eggs.

Sinead grins towards Wyn, before sending a slight wave to older cousin. "I'll wager 2 marks on 25 eggs," she gives out as she continues her egg watching. "Ooh, look, it's purple!" well, yes, purple is a preferable colour in the eyes of the guard.

On the sands, Tiareth adores it. Why doesn't Orbyth? Does he like it? Do they like it? They'd better. Nuff likes it, right?

Pyrene tips her head critically. "Ugly egg. I think Tiareth's getting a little old for this…. Orbyth's pretty sturdy though. Cadge laid 36 eggs by him, so… Tiareth should probably manage 24, I'd say." And if she lays more than 35, Orbyth's in Py-sized trouble.

On the sands, Nuff promises, "I'll like them all. Even if they are Orbyth's too."

Miria squeeks as she spots cousin Yulianna among the throng and makes her way over to her and sister Sinead. "Heeey, Yuli!" Squee. Isn't she happy to see her relatives again. "How's Ista? …I betcha there'll be… uh… 25 eggs. For half a mark." Go figure- Miria's really cheap when it comes to money, a lot of the time.

Sapha wrinkles her nose, as the first egg makes an appearance. "Euw!" First Impression anyways. "Euw Euw." There goes the second impression as well. "Um not quite one ma'am" See she's helpful. Her dark eyes twinkle as she attempts to spot anyone she knows amongst the crowd, or at least someone with a warmer coat.

On the sands, Zi'n is starting to look decidedly sick - it's the heat, really. That's why his face is so red. Uh-huh. "Uhm, urm…" Fortunately, his stuttering is cut off by Orbyth's bellow. He does too adore it! Even if it's purple. And kind of ugly. It's still his bebe. "Hrn… it's purple," says the Weyrleader, stating the obvious at a lack for better comments.

Larnat squints at the sands, hand waving in a gesture of vague-ness. "28, then," she notes firmly, head bobbing, as arms are crossed, and she turns to frowning meditatively at the sands. Seems to have become something of a habit, for the baker. Occasionally a hand sproings up to hit an errant firelizard, of course. Must be on guard. "Spiny," is her only comment. Or…something.

On the sands, Tiareth, delighted to be rid of the first one, seems content to nudge the spikey-looking little egg around for awhile and eventually roll it against the tower of Sand; grains slide down to warm the shell and hide just about all of the little egg. To the first, 'Reth adds another one, and then a third, laying a lovely pair of artistic eggs in quick succession before turing to Orbyth with a croon of delight:

Bottle of Sand-Artwork Egg
Rivulets of darkening hyacinth cut across the topmost portions of this egg's dome. Dropping in sharp downward angles, they dart across the equator of the egg, from which a starburst of brilliant flaxen resonates. Swathes of ocher and magenta weave alongside one another in messy, uneven gullies to visually create windswept deserts bathed in brilliant, cheery shades of lavender and amber.

Impressionist Purple Night Sky Egg
Swirls of every imaginable purple dance across this egg's surface in placid matrimony. Violet to lavender, hues of plum, wine and amethyst, each color rides upon the next in a harmonic waltz along the matte surface of the shell. Muted to soft whispers of crescent waves, purple-tinted curlicues of color dip into the soft plains of milk and creams among their midst. The egg is an egg like any other, its starry night that of every night, and the beautiful mural of the night sky merely a soft oval of damson upon the egg, edges melting into a background of tranquil serenity.

Sinead chuckles as her sister arrives, all squeeky like. "Hey, Miria," she points to the egg. "At least it's purple," she notes with a snciker. "Yeah, how is Ista, Yuli?" she enquires. "And how are you and Miyakath doing? It's been so long since we've seen you."

"Come on, it's not all that ugly, Pyrene!" Thesy chortles softlyand nudges the goldrider gently with her elbow, I've seen worse." The arrival of another egg, admittedly prettier than the first one, gets Isthy all excited, "Look, mom! That's a gorgeous one!"

Laytai turns her head and reguards Kieran. "Aye, no problem. Room enough for us all." She comments before rising off her seat a bit, in hopes to get a better view of the sand below her. Clearing her throat another look goes to the guy beside her. Might as well make conversation. "Don't believe I know you. Laytai. 'Reaches Messenger." Taps her knot but keeps both eyes trained on the newly arriving eggs. Nice greeting.

On the sands, Nuff ignores the firest, despite its pretty appearance, and claps her hands in delight at the second in the set. "Oh look Tiareth! Zi'n! Orbyth! This one is even more purple than the first one. Isn't it? It reminds me of Sardrinth."

Pyrene snorts lightly. "More purple? I swear, Nuff must have been feeding Tiareth dye for the past month. But you're right, it is pretty. Can't hold a candle to a few of the eggs from /Cadge's/ last clutch, but it's pretty. Did Nuff just call it Sardrinth?" She blinks, trying to filter through the galleries hubbub to catch the Nuff-exclamations.

Wyn considers. And considers some more. And finally decides upon. "30-plus. For a skin of good Benden brandy." Long odds, but delectable ones, if they pay off. Marks? Pfeg! Wyn prefers to wager on, ah, liquid assets, although she nods and notes down Sinead's wagerings in her book, glancing up to mmm approvingly as more eggs arrive. "Up to three, and quickly. Bodes well."

Lyria is rather a fan of purple and simply must point out, with a hint of excitedness,"Look. THey're purple." Nothing bad could ever come out of anything purple. Yesh, yesh, they are nice eggs, they are.

Nuff's comment carries up to the galleries, rising a laugh from Sardrinth's rider, "You wish, Nuff!", Thesy calls down, waving at the rolly-polly form of the excited goldrider on the sands, "Still no purple on that blue!"

Yulianna blinks over as her name is positively squealed and her face lights up at the seemingly sudden appearance of her cousins. Sudden to her, anyway. "Sinead, Miria! Aye, it's been a while. I'm well, and Miyakath's clutchlings are all doin' well too." she adds with a note of pride. A snort of suppressed laughter is offered for Sapha's reply and she turns to eye the first egg - and then it's companion. "No egg is -ugly-." she states firmly. "I'm sure once it hardens it'll take on a nice sheen." Ever the optimist.

Naeli enters and moves quickly to join her Granddaughter as she tap Eil on the shoulder and whispers "Your mom couldn't get away, but I see you caught a ride." She gives the girl a hug as she seats herself and points to the newest egg.

On the sands, Zi'n shrugs off his jacket - finally finding most of the cause of his heat-problem - and turns his head to grin slightly at Nuff. "Yes, very purple indeed… you'd think she was flown by a blue, not a bronze," he remarks idly, glaring at Orbyth. The dragon, however, only senses Tiareth, gazing at her with excitedly-rolling eyes.

"Keyran," The boy manages to reply, luckily without a squeak. "My 'rents are traders." Oh praise Faranth… No voice breaks that time. He didn't even manage to pry his embarassed gaze off the floor to look at Laytai, but he does manage to glance up at the sands to see the next two eggs.

<High Reaches Weyr> Cadgwith senses that Sardrinth sounds alarmed. « I had nothing to do with it! We weren't even here at the time! »

Sinead grins as she spies yet another purple egg. "Ooh, purple!" she exclaims before her attention quickly returns to her elder cousin. "That's wonderful Yuli," she gives before chuckling. "And that's true, no egg is ugly, 'sides, it's young, given time it'll certainly look absoloutley lovely," grin, beam, nod. She guard is just happy to see her cousin present, much less the fact that the eggs are being clutched, but, either way, all is good.

Larnat hrfs, as Wyn's bet goes higher. Legs are crossed, before the baker tilts her head back. "Naw. I'm thinking higher, then. Twenty-nine, and not a single more. I'll bet you a free breakfast, and," Larnat pauses to fish around in her pocket, to check the exact value of what she's got, "an eighth-mark." Cough. Bakers aren't made of many marks, apparently.

On the sands, Nuff winks, just in case Thesy can see that far, and then turns to giggle at Zi'n. "Oh my. That wouldn't do, would it? A blue dragon flying a queen? No no no… still, imagine, /all/ the dragons might be blue then! Sardrinth would have lots and lots of company." Even if its not purple.

On the sands, Tiareth rather enjoys the fluid tranquility of this clutching. Without much noise and hardly any fuss at all, she lays a fourth egg - pale and quiet - down among the rest. And this one isn't purple at /all/. Serenity. Despite all the noise. Despite the Nuff, and Orbyth, and the gamblers in the stands. Despite this public display of fertility, Tiareth is (not quite at rest), at least at peace. She settles down for awhile and waits. Eventually another egg makes a wet, slick, and susurrant appearance on the Sands.

Silence Is Golden Egg
Stillness shrouds this palest of pale shells like a misty gossamer veil, cool and yet richly creamy. The egg's only adornment of color is a haze of nearly white gold, which seems to swirl about the crown. The softly curved surface is smooth, polished, and almost frictionless; it is serene, the epitome of peaceful tranquility.

Leaning a bit far o'er the edge to get a good view of the clutching, the boy finaly decides to find a seat after a sweetstick is thrown in his general direction as well as a few mutinous mutters from those sitting directly behind him. Right, the tall thing. Woolen cap snugged tightly on his head - which, might account for the sheen of sweat now appearing on tan features - Etheren peers around for a properly uninhabited seat in which to watch the clutching in a mroe subdued manner.

Wyn's thoughts are temporarily derailed by the comments of those around her, and the little rider decides to be somewhat sociable, turning over her shoulder to chat with Sinead and family-members, realization dawning as she overhears the Istan goldrider's name. "Yuli…? Yulianna? Morallen says hello," she relays with a little smile, and then half-turns back again, eyeing the eighth in Larnat's paw, and… wait for it… making a note in her book.

Sapha giggles "Yes Ma'am" She agrees obediantly, like any good mini..er Weyrling. Her dark eyes continue to scan the crowds. "I dunno, no egg can ever compare to the one my Phirath came out of…." She eats those words as the serene gold egg makes its appearance. "Oh my, that is a bit of an alright indeed." She breathes, of course she means its gorgeous.

On the sands, Tiareth sweetens the clutch with another very not-purple egg, dropping the next large egg to the Sands with only a few minutes of wriggling and rumbling.

Golden Syrup of Delight Egg
The sweetness of this almost phosphorescent egg threatens to overpower those that seek to sample its rather tempting delights. The honey-amber magnificence flows thickly across the curvature; in fact, it is quite easy to imagine dipping an eager finger into its slow liquidity, only to leave an imprint within the molasses-like goodness. Light is distorted as the heartbreakingly sweet dribbles of syrup seem to wiggle and flow across the upper-half to coat it with a thick layer of sugary glossiness.

On the sands, Zi'n looks rather relieved as a non-purple egg joins the others on the sand. "Oh, look… it's pretty." And not purple. "And I think we've plenty of blue dragons already. Not that they aren't appreciated." A whole clutch of blues is just a little too wild, even for his imagination. Orbyth cranes his head, staring at his eggs. Ooh. So pretty. Even with his short attention-span, he manages to keep focused on the round things.

"Mom … mommy!" Isthy excitedly pulls on Thesy's sleeve in case her mother hadn't noticed the arrival of the next egg, "Just look! Do you think it's a gold egg?" Still slightly concerned about her worried dragon, the bluerider turns to her daughter, "It's very pretty, isn't it, lovey? And it could be, though I can't say for sure, of course."

"Traders?" Laytai asks, a bemused smile forming on her lips. Never met such a shy guy in all her 18 turns on Pern. "Mine are also." But that's another story and not a good topic for Laytai. "Ever been to a clutching? Oh my! Look a'that new little egg! Pretty little thing!" Head is tilted. "'least no more purple eggs. Got a few o'those already."

<High Reaches Weyr> Cadgwith senses that Sardrinth sulks. « Thank you very much. » Like he isn't blue enough for at least a hundred …

Pyrene doesn't like the way the conversation is going down on the Sands. "/Don't/ get any ideas," she mutters to Thesy, before turning to the latest egg and frowning suspiciously. "That's not purple." She squints, chewing her lip, only to groan as the next one trundles out. "Well, there are /two/ gold eggs out there, Isthy. Maybe Nuff's been feeding Tiareth gold dye as well as purple dye. It's not like we /need/ any more golds." Not until Cadgwith lays one, anyway.

Lyria could easily argue that Rilskiath's egg was certainly the best, but she chooses not to, considering people are just that way about their dragons. "Ooh. Pretty." So pretty one could just go /eat/ that egg…Twould make a nice topping on some waffles and fried on the side.

Larnat tilts farther backwards at an alarming rate, tipping ever-so-slightly. But she /shall/ not fall, by all that's…purple. And gold. Apparently it isn't a very good thing to swear by, because the next second, Lar keels slightly over. Oof. Her firelizards are amused to an endless extent, cawing their delight (in the case of a few, dusting themselves off after being dislodged) and making other nonsensical noises. "Oh. An egg of a different color."

"Traders?" Yulianna perks up, glancing around, "Who said traders?" But the momentary interest is quickly forgotten as another egg appears. "There, see? That one is -definitely- pretty." she states with authority, folding her arms across her chest and nodding. Wyn's comment causes her to turn toward the bluerider, whom she eyes for a moment, seeming to try and gather the woman's name to mind, then nods, "Thank you, Wyn - " no doubt some aid from her lifemate there, " - please tell him I said hello in return." Aside to Lyria and Sapha she adds, "I'm guessing…twenty-seven. That was always my brother's favorite number. Phirath's egg was lovely." is noted with a grin. Not that she can really keep track of whose egg was which queen's…they were all hatching at once for Faranth's sake. And as another egg appears she nods, "Definitely a large clutch." She'll make no comment to Ista's clutches not being quite as large as may have been expected.

D'baji walks in.

Sinead oohs and aims a jab for her sibling. "Look, they're gold," she points out, rather liking the colour combination so far on the sands. "They're all so lovely," nod nod. The newly deteenized woman chuckles slightly as she peers out at the sands, awaiting to see what's next.

On the sands, Nuff careens past Zi'n and through the sounds of silence and sticky sweetness, yelling across the Sands to the great lump that is her dragon. "Hey! 'Retch! Isn't it time for another purple one? Y'know, one for Nuffie?" Nuffie is so endearing, afterall, and it is a dragon's duty to make her rider happy - Right?

On the sands, Tiareth rarely goes out of her way to make her Nuff happy, but today of all days, she's willing to do her best. With a shudder that runs from the tip of her sunlight'd muzzle to the tapered ends of a darker, broodier tail, the dragon contracts and relaxes till out escapes one rather large, rather monstrously purple, rather hideous egg.

One-Eyed, One-Eared Flying Purple People Eater Egg
Oh it's… purple! A fuzzy sort of monstrous purple that furs the egg and frightens every inch from its gigantic rounded end to the tapered cheeriness of its so-called smaller bits. Rounded boundaries are warmed with cuddly fleece, the texture suggested by the blurry furry hues that pelt the egg in all sorts of purples: hairy puce, fuzzy lavender, fluffy violets , shaggy plum, wooly huckleberry, and finally a burst of pretty puffy paisley that hints at what sort of dragonet might grow inside. The enormity of the egg is scary in and of itself, but the colors that claim it shake the very foundations of what it means to be /dragon/.

Thesy throws back her head, "Shards, Pyrene … /what/ ideas do you think I might get from that?" Dabbing her eyes to wipe away the tears of laughter, she then adds, "Thank Faranth there're never two gold eggs in a clutch."

<High Reaches Weyr> Cadgwith senses that Tiareth considers. « Do you thank me? » Because of course Sardrinth is blue-est and does a good job. But these eggs are /purple/.

On the sands, Tiareth doesn't stop there. Oh no. That is /not/ enough for her Nuff. No no no. Its not even close to being Eee'nuff. Her Nuff deserves more. Her Nuff deserves an entire buffet of scary purple eggs. Her Nuff deserves not one, not two, but three more frighteningly purple'n gold eggs, each one more hideous than the one before. And they're all set to the Sands together, as if no other eggs were willing to keep them company.

That Devil-Spawned Purple Dinosaur Egg
Purple. One rather plain, though vibrant color coats this egg in its own cuddly, strangely touchable beauty. If one could dare to call it beauty, that is. The surface of the egg appears to have been beaten and stabbed with various sharp objects, although its shape shows the resilience of its form in its perfect roundness; the egg remains stubbornly alive. The shell is rather large, lit from within by an eerie luminosity, for despite the jovial color it retains, darker shadows fall within its beaten crevices. Evasive webs of intoxicating color draw countless unsuspecting viewers into its grasp and trap them within its world of ecstasy and mind-numbing song, cruelly hypnotizing with its plum and mauve wonder.

On the sands, Zi'n starts looking disbelieving again as yet another spew of purple eggs emerge from Tiareth. Sheesh - how many can she /contain/?! It's his reputation at stake, here! Real man don't lay purple eggs. In fact, real men don't lay any eggs, but that's besides the fact. "Uhm, Nuff.. can't you ask her for another color now?" It can never hurt trying to ask, can it? The bronzer tries to grin, though it looks more like a strained grimace.

Sapha chews on her lip. "I dunno I figure…" Her eyes glaze and she starts muttering under her breath, utilising Pern's oldest computer…or her tingers in other words. "…Um Well I think there will be 31." she nods emphatically, snickering as more purple eggs make an appearance. "Hey where are all the other colors?" The thought hits her (or perhpas someone else) rather suddenly.

Etheren observes this new egg with something akin to, shall we say, fright? "There's a few in every clutch, aren't there." Is muttered to no one in particular as he shifts his attention to the next egg. Ah, much better.

Sinead oohs, two more purples. "Ooh, that makes how many?" she questions of no one in particular, in referance to the number of eggs already on the sands. "5, or 6, right?" something along those lines, she hopes, otherwise she hasn't been keeping track, and can't count.

On the sands, Tiareth ignores Zi'n for now. She's trying to please her Nuff. The scary eggs continue.

Disembodied Eye of the Three Witches Egg
A disturbing sight indeed, this egg is practically spherical in shape - visceral, putrid yellow-white oozes along its surface to envelope it with a sickly, slimy sheen. Ghostly shades flicker within the dull depths of what might once have been a pupil, plum-grey seen to cloud over the once-bright iris. Bruised-purple tracks spread outward, a violent web cast across a yellowed expanse, only to thicken as it reaches the opposite end of the almost-orb, its slick, gross coils wrapping around with haphazard ease.

Miria ogles. Oooooh, purple. One of her favorite colors indeed. "Puuuurple. Ooooh, and so much of it. And gold, too. I don't think anybody'd be able to tell which one was the gold egg, if there is one in this clutch. Mind-boggling. Come on… keep going! I want a lucky 25! Because I don't want to lose half a mark," she half-whines. "I only have so much." Teehee.

Wyn blandly offers Larnat a hand up, not bothering to take her eyes off the spectacle. "Purple and gold…" she muses, theorizing about something, before a little smirk touches the corner of her mouth, and she's at it again, voice lifting to call out "Bets for or against a gold egg, this clutch anyone?? I might add that we are statistically due for one. And 7, I believe… no, eight."

Rotten Purple Cabbage Egg
Shredded leaves upon more of the same, the looks of this mishaped egg would taste no much better to the mouth than it's looks to the eyes. Blotches of crinkled purple flop up from the slightly pointed bottom, twig-like projections spreading out to be clamped onto thick sprouts of miscolored violet. Crimson dashes away at smoother, enhanced parts; yet a sickly green twiddles in and creases lines, radiating bitterness from an egg that might have turned out to be a cute one. Dark, grotesque brown sneaks out like a hidden stench amongst the tinted layers, exampling that of a horrid, putrid, moldy vegetable.

Kieran nods, "Once. In Fort." Good. No squeaks. "Never can have enough clutchings an' hatchings, though." Hatchings was more of a wheeze than a word, but other than that, Kier seems to be on a roll. Purple must be a popular color… But he'd never seen so many strange… or should he say unappealing… colors for dragon (or flitter, for that matter) eggs…

Pyrene twitches her nose. "I don't think /either/ of them are gold," she tells Thesy and daughter firmly. "Oh great Faranth!" That exclamation punctuated by her whole body jerking backwards, rapping the knees of the person behind her. She's as quick to lean forwards again, smirking. "Tiareth's really outdoing herself this time. Hmm… Going quick. Maybe she'll break 25 then."

On the sands, Tiareth lets Orbyth tend to these. Orbyth or Nuff, or someone who might appreciate the darker side of Purple. She turns her back on these latest eggs and considers the tower of sand, or what's left of it that hasn't already been pulled dwon to warm the eggs. After more than a few minutes of consideration, and a bit of digging and pushing, she carefully lays a distinctly beautiful and uniquely small little egg to the Sands.

Ardent Rings of Gold Egg
Gems centered on a myriad of honey-touched circlets illuminate this egg with random sprinkles of tiny starlight upon its surface. Composed of not just one symbolic ring, but rather a honeycomb of delicate beauties whose golden surfaces glint not unlike the inner surface of a bee's hive in the light. Circles of carefully crafted amber seem to capture two waves of sapphire sparkle which meet near the center; others which bear the palest sheen of flax sport flawless diamonds or faceted amethysts, all of which suffuse the oddly spherical object with a priceless, gentle warmth.

Shaela eyes the plum-hued egg with distaste. "That looks like that sharding loveseat of yours," she notes to her weyrmate, L'shil, who sits beside her.

D'baji skids right on in, finding a stop without too much difficult, and proceeding to smooth his clothes over. "Shards," is said for his timing, and then the crowd is scanned. And ooh, he /knows/ people, so he'll start by making his way towards the one he knows best. Namely, that Istan goldrider over there. Out of the way, people! "Heya love!" is said rather loudly, hands cupped around his mouth and everything. Lucky Yulianna.

Sinead eyes and icks, ot oohs, icks. "Eh, lookit," she points to the freshly clutched egg, three witches are claimed, who knows what'll come out of that one. "Aye, 'Ria, you'll lose a half mark, I'll lose a full 2 marks if 25 eggs don't find the sands. "Ooh! Now there's a nice one," nice enough, perhaps, to make up for the previous ones. As Deba greets her cousin she gives him a nod, having yet to meet this bronze rider.

Lyria's eyebrows raise at the next couple eggs,"Uhm…" No comment. A shrug goes to Sapha,"Mebbe…Hmph." This has her stumped,"I dunno. But there's certainly nothing wrong with purple and gold, so it's prefectly fine with me." Nodnod. "Uhmm..I'll go with twenty six. Or twenty eight…No..Six..Eight… Twenty seven. Yeah."

Larnat isn't counting. She's merely glaring for all she's worth at the sands. It's…a habit. Really. Larnie is /not/ harboring a grudge against the eggs, despite how much it may look like that. "I say /yes/, then." Eeny meeny miny moe /does/ come in handy, young children. Never forget that. The latest eggs're ooh'd and ahh'd at, appropriately. "Gold. That one's interesting."

Yulianna blinks at the yellow and white oozie egg and shakes her head, "Alright. That egg -is- ugly." she murmurs, propping her chin up on the palm of her hand in a most lady-like fashion. "I sit corrected." But something better than eggs appears…better than eggs? Is that possible? It is! "Baji!" Yuli practically bounces up out of her seat and siezes the bronzerider's hand proprietarially. "Come! Sit with us." Gee, she's not demanding. "There are five - er - six or somethin' so far. An' the first ones were pretty but there are a couple now - did ya' have sweeps this mornin'? Ya' weren't there when I got up…" chatterbox. Yes.

Thesy stares, hardly believing her eyes, "Dearie me … is she going to lay purple eggs /only/ this time?" she asks her goldriding neighbour. "How on earth does she do that?" Also Isthy looks rather baffled by this display of matching eggs.

Pyrene frowns. "Purple and gold and purple and gold… That last is too small to be a gold egg though." Because she says so. "Hey, Thes, do you remember Ysbryth's first clutch? Must be nearly 15 turns ago now."

Siannen has been here the whooole time. Really. She's just been all short and fat and out of the way somewhere. But someone obliging finally moves, and the miniature nanny is granted a decent view of the sands. "Ooh.. " So it's not that creative of a comment. She hasn't been able to see 'til now, remember?

Laytai brings a hand up and chuckles. "I agree with you there, never can have enough." Grinning, the messenger leans forward once more, both hands brought down and laying tensely on her lap. A snort of slight disgust comes out, "To many purple, a handful of gold. Where is the variety!" She says outloud to no one in particular. "Used to remember the colors ranging from almost black to vibrant green."

"Yes, you're probably right since she and Drinth are over 17 turns by now." Thesy looks startled for a moment. Has really so much time passed since she stood down there on the sands, her heart in her throat as that starry blue fell down right at her feet?

Sapha glares as she is squooshed out of the way in orderr to make room for D'baji. "Hi" She manages to squeeze out, between watching the eggs carfeully and trying to keep warm. Oh now she gets to borrow body heat. Yay her!

Shaela leans in on Pyrene and Thesy's conversation: "S'when Chayath Hatched," she notes, as though that should more easily jog Thesy's memory. "Was there a reason why you mention it?" the weyrwoman wonders, going from eavesdropper to attempting-participant.

On the sands, Orbyth is happy to hover over the eggs nearest to him, his bronzen bulk shadowing a couple of the purple ones until they almost look black. "How many d'you think she'll lay?" Zi'n asks Nuff with a mix between disbelief and pride. After all, the more eggs, the studlier the dragon-and-his-rider, right? Right.

On the sands, Tiareth, taking a stretch, turns her head straight to Orbyth, eyes settling on his. They are nice. They are our eggs, and we will teach them to be /just/ like us. And Nuff is happy. They are purple. 'Reth doesn't like it, however, that others aren't enjoying their colours. She /likes/ her purple eggs, she's /proud/ of them, and /Nuff/ likes them. All is well.

Wyn happily continues to make notes in her book. "Larnat for gold… will that be included under your original bet then?" she asks, resisting the urge to drum her fingertips together, and instead stilling them in her lap to observe the continued egg-laying behavior of Tiareth, before lifting one hand to take another drink from her flask of sherry.

D'baji is appropriately grabbed and hauled, finding a spot for his behind without /too/ much trouble, and shooting his sparkliest grin to the goldrider. "Really? Pity when eggs are ugly… Though at least the dragons don't /always/ match the shells. Ooh, only missed a few then." Sapha is waved to with his not-so-occupied hand, the bronozerider hardly realizing he's displaced her. "Hey Sef… Having a good time yet?"

Pyrene jumps at Shaela's interruption, turning around to send a grin at the other goldrider. "That's the one… Remember how half of Ysbryth's clutch was all shiny? We didn't know until the Hatching if one of them was actually gold. I think we're about to see a repeat."

Ajala walks in with a bit of a confused aire about her, her eyes widening as she glances about at the massive crowd. Her jaw hanging slightly slack, she offers the already laid eggs a long look of astonishment before gliding over to sit near Laytai. She sinks down onto a bench, offering a wave to all the other familiar faces in the room.

Yulianna's attention is caught at the mention of a gold egg and she cranes her nect, "Wyn!" That -was- her name, right? "Put me down for a mark on gold…if they haven't a gold egg this clutch, I'll…I'll…have Baji eat my dress." There, that's a safe bet. Aside to Baji she murmurs, "It's been too long since the 'Reaches had a gold…they need one, I think."

On the sands, Tiareth adds another purple one then, just for good measure. Looks likes one of Nuff's many kids: ugly.

Purple-Faced, Wrinkly, Newborn Brat Egg
Purple and wrinkly in that screaming until you're blue-in-the-face fashion, there's no way to avoid the fact that this egg is one thing: ugly. Rugged and almost leathery in appearance, ripples of blue-violet do little to make this ovoid any more appealing; however somewhere, deep down beneath the almost papery-thin shell, there's something rather endearing about it. In the right light, in the right context, it may even be considered pretty in that uniquely special fashion. Sadly, however, this particular creation is nothing to faint over - except, perhaps, for its utterly appalling aura.

"I was wondering about that," Shaela admits, glancing up at the eggs. "But then, they might just be a whole lot of bronzes. Tiareth's an old gold, after all. Do you really think she'd be likely to clutch a gold at this stage?"

Kieran coughs as Laytai vents at the color variety. He gives a quick glance to the golden queen, before turning to Laytai. "Shh! /She'll/ hear you…"

Sinead chuckles as she watches the sands slightly, slightly being the key word, for her attention is somewhat divided. "Yuli, dear, mind introducing us to your companion?" she enquires of her cousin as she attempts to listen in on various conversations, but quickly eyes yet another purple egg. "Oh, Faranth, will the purples ever stop?" she questions. "I mean, it's all good and everything, except when you have half a clutchs worth of purple eggs."

Larnat checks her pockets. Total inventory count: lint, mothballs, flour, half-eaten roll. "Erf. Guess 'm not betting extra then, Wyn." Flat-broke and all that, you see. The latest egg, the purply-and-wrinkly one, gets a nose-wrinkle of sheer distaste. Urh. But Larnat dutifully refrains from commenting on it, manners-abiding (cough) baker that she is.

Siannen just.. /stares/ at the latest addition to the eggs on the sands. "..shardin'.. " A moment, then, "..that's.. just.. uuuugly. In a good way." In that ugly screaming newborn 'brat that only a mother (or very silly father) could lovce.

Lyria is also sqooshed, if Sapha is sqooshed. Meep. "Bit chilly, Saph?" she asks with a small snicker,"Don'tcha know it's cold up here during autumn?" A hand pulled into the sleeve of her jacket is waved to the bronzerider,"Hey Baji."

Thesy laughs softly, "And what a beautiful clutch that was, no? Hey, Shaela!" A warm smile goes to the goldrider, her friend since she came to the Reaches. "Well, I don't see why she shouldn't be able to lay another gold, Tiareth's not that old yet."

"Eurgh!" Etheren eyes this new egg with something near astonishment. After all, he was under the impression that effs were suppose to be… atheticly pleasing? Nose wrinkling he eyes the slimy addition with a sniff of disagreement. Eurgh.

"One mark for gold, from Yulianna… Bronzerider D'baji to eat a dress if bet is incorrect." Wyn dictates aloud to herself, giving Yulianna a nod, before crinkling her nose at the last egg. "Good skies… that looks likely to hatch a greater monstrosity than /Ringwraith/." Someone isn't quite as polite as Sinead, it appears. Larnat is given a smile. "Don't worry," the bookie assures. "I'll count it under your initial wager."

D'baji turns a lovely shade of red for the mention of eating dresses, and does his best to signal something to the effect of 'not gonna happen' towards the one he /thinks/ is Wyn. Then, sidelong to Yuli, the bronzerider mentions, "Yeah, and 'sides, people are so excited with the gold eggs…" Then to the not-so-Sapha-ish Weyrling, a quick half-salute is given. "Hi Lyri…"

Sapha decides to wiggle closer to D'baji. "Yeah, apart from the fact it's cold, and they don't look so good." The greenlet shudders as yet another ugly egg makes its appearance upon the sands. "Yeah." Is spoken Lyria-wards, followed with a pitiful "Hold me?" Oh dear.

Pyrene screws her face up. "Oh, that's revolting." Thesy's comment about Tiareth's gold-laying capability simply gets a negative look. Silly bluerider. "Oh, we have enough golds, it's late in a pass and all… I don't think she'll clutch one. She's just teasing us with lots of gold-/looking/ eggs." Yes.

Yulianna shifts her focus from Wyn to Sinead, frowning slightly, and nodding, "Sorry, I thought I'd introduced you. Baj, this is Sinead and Miria - my cousins. This is D'baji, rider of Bronze Nverath, Weyrsecond if Ista Weyr, and my weyrmate." My, isn't that a formal title? But Yuli says it all without a hitch, shoulders squaring and chin raising with some small amount of pride for -her- weyrmate. *cough* But her attention is yanked once more back to the sands, "More purple?" she murmurs, "It's kinda nice, matches an' all…maybe we should do our weyr in purple an' gold." she musses, half to herself and half to Baji.

"Ajala!" Laytai grins, giving her friend a pat on the back. "Didn't think you were gonna make it. Had a shift?" She asks, before turning back to Kieran. "Hear me? Tiareth? Perhaps, but I'm sure going after a messenger is the last thing on her mind." Blink. "Some of those eggs are really ugly." But enough of that. "Ah, Ajala, this is Kie…Kieran, was it? Oh, well, yes. He's a trader." Look, Laytai's trying to be nice.

Shaela is maybe just bitter that her Chayath has not yet to clutch a golden egg - not that she'll admit to it. She nods along with Pyrene's theory, "That's more what I meant. Yes."

On the sands, Nuff is too delighted with the purple eggs to notice any little not-purple ones. She doesn't go so far as to get in the way by kicking Sand over them, but she does make happy noises to anyone who will listen. Or to Zi'n, who really has no choice. "Oh my my my my my. Why one hundred and three of course!"

On the sands, Tiareth is /not/ old! And she's /very/ capable, thank you. Personally, Tiareth thinks that last one was pretty. It's hers. And as for going after messengers, if she didn't have her bebes to take care of, it wouldn't be such a bad idea. And Nuff /still/ likes them! Look at them all. Beauuuutiful. Hi Nuff.

Sinead waves to her recruit. "Aja!" she exclaims, motioning to see if the guard recruit will join her. "Ahh, a pleasure to meet you than D'baji," she gives a nod before offering up her decision on gold or no gold to Wyn. "No gold, or, uhh," hmm. "I'll give another mark," nod nods, she's being frugal with her marks, so sue her.

On the sands, Tiareth's eggs are beautiful indeed. Even this one, as greasy and fat full of consumerism as it is:

Those Famous McD's Golden Arches Egg
A grandeur of commercial brightness swirls about the arc of this shell to caress it gently amidst the heat of the sands. Alluring lines of amber gold ensnare the shape in a gilded cage, left to sit quietly in wait for a victim to approach and succumb to the addictiveness it has to offer. From afar, it seems perfectly bright, perfectly innocent, perfectly shiny-happy - upon closer inspection, however, something wicked this way comes. Almost, but not quite, the polished surface conceals its secret and masks the unhealthy essence that is this wicked, propaganda egg.

Miria gives a little finger-waggle to D'baji. "Hello- n' my regards to your bronze. Yeah, the purple and gold's really nice-looking. Very regal-seeming. But…" The guard recruit directs a glance to the sands and can be visibly seen making a bit of a squinty face. "…Some of them look, perhaps, less than pretty… Faranth, one of them looks like a screaming newborn from this distance." She shudders and diverts her attention to slightly more attractive-looking eggs.

On the sands, Orbyth will cut Tiareth a deal - the purple ones are /hers/, the rest are his. And thus the bronze goes to fanning his wings over one of the non-purple eggs, doing his best impression of a gold-guarding-her-favorite-egg. "Eh, right," Zi'n just comments, giving Nuff an odd glance. A hundred and three purple eggs on the sands, a hundred and three purple eggs… anyone else getting dizzy?

See? Shaela understands. Tiareth has no right to be laying a gold, so there. "That one's not really shiny enough," Pyrene advises those near her wisely, surveying the latest egg twitchily.

A beam surfaces on Larnat's usually glare-bearing features, as hands are wrung. "Marvelous, Wyn." This having been said, Larnat returns to the arduous process of reclaiming her seat next to Wyn. Shoving a drudge to her left is necessary to reclaim it, apparently. Shove. She's reclaimed her spot, then, and firelizards happily return to mooch off /her/ for perching-space! Yay?

Lyria shakes her head at Sapha, but grins. "My goodness. Didn't I see Yuli with some wool skirt or something? Why don't you ask her if you could borrow it?" Attention goes back to the eggs,"Well, Tiareth certainly is doing a nice job with color coordination."

D'baji wriggles his fingers in the direction of these cousins, blinking at Miria with a hint of recognition. "I think I know that one," is said with an utter lack of formality, and a faint twitch of his cheek for the big title he's been attached to. "Just Baji," is said slightly protectively, and then back to the poor little greenlet. "I know, it's always cold here, even in summer. Y'just best hope that Phirath doesn't take a liking for the lake- 'Ver insists on stopping there every time we're here, and then he's right cold to ride on the way home…" Then to Yuli: "Or maybe red and gold, so we don't steal 'Reaches' thunder?"

"Hi," Kieran peeps, nodding his head as Laytai struggles over his name. Another quick, apologetic glance is given to Tiareth. He could've sworn she gave Laytai a glare. But nevermind that, there's another egg. Pretty, yes… Kinda alluring… But there's just something he can't place about that egg….

Ajala giggles lightly as she gives Laytai a rather obvious wink. "Oh, hello Kieran!" Wink wink. Sly smile at Laytai. If she's being nice…Hee. What? A shift? "No, I didn't have a shift." She snickers. "I overslept. Up too late last night." A nod, and then she offers a cheerful grin to Sinead, and motion her superior to come sit by /her/. No way Ajala's gonna move if she doesn't have to. Ha. "Personally, I think that one resembling a screaming baby is rather endearing…its the embodiment of my future!" You know, 'cause she's gonna have like…a hundred children. Someday.

On the sands, Nuff starts humming to herself. "Uhuh. One hundred and three. And one hundred and two of them will be blue. Orbyth can choose the color for the one hundred and third one." Nuff's teasing, she is, she really isn't entirely brainless and stupid, she just acts that way.

"And since when do golds care for what we think is necessary or not, Pyrene?" Thesy grins at the two slightly displeased goldriders. Like Tiareth would give a quarter marks what they like or not! "Yes, lovey?" She turns to her daughter who is once more in raptures about the eggs. "How many will there be, mommy?"The girl ask breathlessly, never turning her eyes from the sands and the growing clutch. "I don't know, Isthy … 25 maybe?"

"No gold, one mark from Sinead." Wyn continues to murmur to herself, looking a touch pleased. With bets pouring in on many different and opposing things, she looks to at least break even on the wagering. After all, not /everyone/ can be right. Right? She flashes a quick smile to the Istanites lingering nearby. "I'm sure that 'Reaches would be willing to share our sense of colouring with you. Consider it… a goodwill gesture?"

Sinead chuckles slightly before giving a head bob to those present. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I see another of the recruits," she notes, quite certain the younger sibling can attend to herself. And at that, the guard promptly finds herself a place to sit near Aja. "'Lo and welcome to the clutching," she gives with a wink.

Yulianna wrinkles her nose at Baji, "You're just stuck on my dress." she states, nudging him with one shoulder. Fishing…fishing… "Red an' gold's not bad…but that's what it was before. I was hopin' for somethin' a -little- different. Not so much of a baby blue fan…" she adds, trailing off thoughtfully, though her eyes remain on the sands. "They really should have one." she murmurs under her breath…Faranth really only knows what she's talking about - and Miyakath.

Sapha wriggles about in the Istan samwich, hoping to capture the gold-riders attention. afterall, wool skirts are at stake. D'baji get a stare. "Theres a lake?" She asks before rolling her eyes. "Sounds like he'll have company." Her head bobs towards the ledges where the pale green hide of her life-mate is visible. Lyria gets a sniffle. "Don't you love me?"

On the sands, And 'Reth supposed that would be okay - she can have the purple ones all to herself. And Nuff, of course. Tiareth might have even liked the idea of all blues but one, but the idea of a hundred and three children was a bit too much. Though all is good and fun. And Tiareth's getting bored. Craning her neck, a draconic smile-type look is given to Orbyth, and she attempts to stand - before absolutely and completely chaning her mind and settling down again.

Laytai cackles softly, eyes glinting with extreme amusement. But the look goes away the moment Laytai gets a look at Ajala's face. An elbow in shot in the guard recruit's direction as an innocent smile appears on the messenger's face. She'd never do anything wrong. "Really though, only a few are rather..odd looking. The rest are quite pretty." Shrug. "Y'know 'jala. I refuse to foster even one of your children. Just remember that. I'm much to busy for children." Sagenod. Turning and waving her hand, Laytai nods and greets Sinead. "Having fun?"

On the gallery ledges, Vorkoroth rumbles a baritone suggestion to the visitng Istan weyrlings, shadowed eyes whirling with quiet mischief as he ventures that much fun can be had regarding riders and cold water. At a mental poke from Wyn, the blue subsides.

Larnat catches some talking on the wind. Or…something like that, for it is at /last/ noted that others have come. A wave or two is given with something of a broad grin lingering on her features. Eh - Larnat gets to glare at the eggs all she wants, so she might as well offer up a smile or two for real-human-beings. By the by; the waves are directed to Ead, Ajala, Laytai, and the others over with them.

"I'll bet 25 and a gold," is shot over to Wyn with a smile. "Record /that/ for your bet book." Go for the optimistic, why don't you, Miria. "Half a mark, because I'm cheap." Oho, she admits it. Not a big surprise. Mingling with her cousin and some Istan folks, Mir leans back and takes a sip from a stray waterskin that looks unattended, and thinks she's okay until she finds out it's wine and makes a rather silly face. Luckily, the owner of the wineskin, a fat sort of fellow, is too engrossed in bets to see her.

On the sands, Tiareth settles, and then cheers herself up with something that strangely enough, reminds her of Nuff. And even more surprisingly is its not really purple either:

Cliche Smiley Face Egg
Blinding yellow dominates the whole surface of this egg, which could be scary or cheerful, depending on the observer's state of mind. The color shines in all its glory, leaving no space for any other hues to break through. The luster of the shell is as intense as the color, sporting no matte spots along the completely smooth surface. The egg has an almost perfectly round circle shape, rather than the more usual oval, which simply causes more light to reflect off the jovial surface.

"I suppose yeah… Hmm, well, if 'Reaches is willing," he quips up towards Wyn before re-directing his train of speech to Yuli, "We could give it a go, I suppose… Purple and gold…" Then Sapha is given a great big grin. "Well, at least when they do that you an' I could huddle on the beach and keep vaguely warm? In a platonic way, of course." Best clarify that with the weyrmate sitting right there… And speaking of the weyrmate, he offers her a rather confused, "Eh?" for that last comment of hers.

On the sands, Tiareth adds a few more, just in case anyone is feeling peckish.

Yes We Have No Bananas Egg
Purple blobby splotches visually stand out against the bland creaminess of the egg's smooth shell. The shade of violet is bright, that's for sure, somewhat iridescent and neon and lilac all at once, each warring with the other for colorful dominance. With vision blurred, one might be able to decipher eerie fruit-like shapes amidst the random cacophony of blobs. Pineapples and cherries and orange pieces and cantaloupe quarters and even bunches of grapes seem to pop out at random, but lo and behold: not a single banana can be spied.

Goldfishes Is Delishes Egg
Barely discernible from the regular, not-quite-white color of this egg are splotches of almost-purple and almost-gold among the more mundane khaki and cream mottles.The casual observer might say that these divergences in color are random, but the more imaginative could make associations with the sea. Hints of purple, plum and lilac are concentrated towards the bottom of the egg, with scallops like ocean waves as a top border. Above this, oval and triangle shaped bits of gold, orange, and pumpkin combine, just like little fish dancing in the sky.

Wyn favours Miria with a saintly smile. And promptly makes another record entry, pausing halfway through to tap her quillfeather against her lips, twitch an eyebrow and inquire "And if only half your prediction is correct, which form of repayment would you like? Half, or none?"

Lyria winces at the mention of lakes,"Oh no. don't even give Ski the /idea/." Sigh. Oh well. A pitying look at Sapha,"Remind me not to bring you up here during winter." A look back at the sands. That egg is just…freakishly yellow. "Saph/a/. It's not even /that/ cold."

Yulianna is warm-natured, it's not her fault. But she -does- notice Sapha's wriggling and -does- pull her wool skirt out from where she's been sitting on it - more of a wool sarong, really, and holds it out to the greenrider. "Here, put this on - er wrap it 'round your shoulers or somethin'." Can't have weyrlings freezing at clutchings, though she's quite warm herself. "I'll want it back 'fore we go between again." she adds as fair warning. "A gold." is tacked on to the end for Baji's benefit.

Pyrene snorts. "Shells, but she's going fast. Are those eggs greased as well as purple?" she asks aloud. "How many /is/ that now? Less than 15 still, right?"

Ajala embraces Sinead with peppy exuberance and bounces a little bit in her seat. "This is so exciting! I wish I would have gotten here earlier, but that can't be helped." She chuckles and shakes her head at…well, at herself. Bad Ajala! "Hey Larnat!" is called to the scary, evil baker as the guard recruit waves her over. Come, join the happy crowd. Eyes widen as eggs pop out in quick succession, and Ajala blinks. Poor Tiareth.

Kieran looks around for a moment. His little empty spot has suddenly gotten full. Oh, well. Sinead is given a little hello-nod, even though Kier doesn't know him. Ajala's look is missed entirely, but Laytai's elbow was, and Kieran looks at both of them curiously.

Sinead's eyes widen. "More golds, we'll never really know for sure if there's a gold in that clutch until the hatching," she notes with a simple shake of her head. "Laytai, love, how are you?" she questions as she returns the recruits embrace. "Aye, I'll neither foster, nor have the horrid little things," she notes, rather disliking kidlets, or so she claims.

On the sands, Tiareth oofs. Some more down, and they're nice, too. Nice and shiny! Just like hers was. She focuses again on Orbyth, and is oh-so-sure he liked those last ones. Just as she did. And Nuff. And everyone. Yes. EggLurve.

Someone disagrees with Sinead. "Oh, no- those last two- the one's all purple and that second's more purple than gold. Don't you see?"

Thesy giggles, "Yes, she seems to want to get rid of them as fast as possible." Craning her neck she then counts under her breath, "One, two, three, four …. no, not yet 15, Pyrene. How many do you think we'll get?"

Larnat has missed Miria in the crowd, too, so belatedly offers something of a wave over to her, as well. And the wave continues at Ajala's greeting, too. Scary and evil? Larnat would be simply rolling in the throes of laughter if she was informed of this. Heehee. Well, Larnat's feeling easily amused today, oddly enough. Clutching seems to do that to one, or perhaps it's merely the license she's giving to glare at something. Either way, it's entertaining for her?

On the sands, Tiareth attends the eggs she has, for awhile, moving them around without really showing them off. Some are quickly buried - especially the purple ones - buried far deeper than one might think is good for them. Perhaps a dragons color is determined by the heat of the Sands that harden it? Whatever her reasoning, she continues to fuss over the clutch and get everything Just Right. Then she adds some more.

Tarnished Gold Penny-Whistle Egg
The crisp, clean white of this egg's surface is broken by a series of thin, parallel lines which march regimentally along the curvature. A playful parade of black circles cascade musically upon these lines, a few given a cheerful flourish by a stem or a flag. Though interesting in itself, the musical background is overshadowed by a bronze-gold bar that streaks across at an angle along one side. Golden in hue, the smooth stripe is neither metallic nor particularly shiny - rather, it has the tarnished look often seen on old, well-loved instruments, the similarity emphasized by a row of evenly-spaced black dots. Towards the bar's end, the dingy gleam turns abruptly to bright green, the sudden switch bringing out the tired glow of the bronze.

Antique Golden Compass Egg
Stripes of bullion gold seep upon the curvature, mustering beauty to the egg's shell as warm and delightful as a summer's gaze. Navy bars form a star, centered and true, in the middle of a perfect circle; dynamic and crystalline at once, the image drapes across the upper half of the ovoid. Almost as if magnetized with an awesome, leering power, the largest bough within the focus point aims straight towards the largest egg as if drawn by some mysterious, inner force.

On the sands, Orbyth rumbles in affirmative satisfaction and locks his swirling eyes on Tiareth's in a moment of shared, mushy parenthood. Aww. "Well, those last ones were nice," Zi'n admits, warming up a good bit to the otherwise un-pretty eggs. "Hard to tell if there's a gold, though," he continues, scrunching his eyes at Tiareth. Just like that queen - even her /eggs/ can't make up their minds.

Cherished Keepsake Egg
Dozens of tiny, pebble-sized circles spiral their way around the entire circumference of this egg in a coil of costumed delight. From the left of the top and drawing downwards, alternating shades of plum and saffron fall with random abandon, no two being the same. Impeccably linked to one another, they're pressed so tightly together that the sides of each seem to merge to form off-set hues of brilliant oranges with hints of gold and amethyst. Slivers of silver barely peek out from between one orb to another to weave their way around each of the seemingly gossamer spheres.

Sapha smiles triumphantly as she wraps the wool skirt about her shoulders, accidently slapping a smithcraft apprentice and pointing towards Lyria as he glares for someone to blame. "Oh yes all platonic." She agrees, suddenly throwing herself into the conversation. "Lyria if Ski comes for a swim too, we could all huddle." She nods solemnly. Yup she understands Maths good.

"24!" Pyrene repeats stoutly. "She can't keep that rate up and go higher - I swear, it'd kill Cadge and she's younger than Tiareth. Slimmer too." Which is slightly unfair, seeing as Tiareth's still half-pregnant.

D'baji is the reason Yuli's warm, he's quite sure, and makes a point of scooching just a touch closer to the goldrider with the broadest of grins. "Oh, I see. Well, I'm hoping for you, 'cause much as I like your dresses I think they'd be rather dry to eat…" Big shudder. "Ooh, a great big Istan huddle-puddle!" D'baji croons. Not his fault that he's eavesdropping on those two, right? At least he's open about it…

Laytai's respect for Sinead just flew through the roof. Another one who loathes younglings. Glee! "'nother gold! Wait..and another!" Mind swirls in awe. "Sharditall. She just keeps going. How many know? Anyone know?" Eyes swirl about the small group. "I bet she clutches at /least/ 34! That's my guess." Old queen or not, the dragon still had spunk, one way or another. Kieran's look is noted, but ignored for the time being. Just pretend that, that never happened. "Oh, I'm fine." Laytai splurts out quickly, almost having missed Sinead's question. "And you?"

Which remains to be seen … after all, Tiareth has the most experience here. "True but she's had so many clutches already, so maybe her body has adapted to this fast clutching." And Pyrene can rely on Thesy's words. She's a dragonhealer … remember?

"Butbut I'm not Istan. Maybe I'll not huddle so the huddle stays all Istan and stuff, you know." Miria grins just slightly as D'baji voices his opinion. As Wyn calls out her inquiry, she replies loudly, "Half's better than nothin'!", obstructing the view of a few behind her. Once she realizes this, she quickly sits down. Erk.

Yulianna blinks, "Huddle-puddle?" She huffs a heavy sigh and shakes her head, a guesture that seems to indicate that she's certain she's the only -normal- one in the whole crew of Istans. In any case, then clings to Baji's arm - warmth is good, you know - and nods, "I'm sure they'd let ya' eat it with some sort of sauce." Okay, so maybe she's not so normal.

"I bet," is Wyn's unflappable pronouncement from amongst her contented nest of book, quills, and sherry, "A full mark that, should there be a gold dragonet, she hatches from one of the purple-toned eggs. Any takers?" And anyone who managed to follow the logic of that sentance, in the middle of all the noise? Regardless, she jots down Miria's clarification, and returns to egg-watching. "What's the count now?" she queries.

Sinead pokes Aja. "Look, those two are nice," she motions to the keepsake and compass eggs. "Especially the more recent of the two," she nods, disregarding the disagreeing voice in the background, or wherever it came from, aye, she's stubborn, and she'll stay that way, thank you. Right now, she's somewhat glad she isn't involved in that conversation, elsewise she'd be rather laughing right now.

On the sands, "Ave Tiareth! Nos morituri te salutamus!"

Lyria just eyes the apprentice who's glaring at her and turns back to Sapha, shaking her head. "Oh yay. Huddling." Can't you tell she's /so/ excited? Heh. Lyri happens to be quite sane. Really. "Huddle-puddle. Uhuh."

On the sands, Tiareth rules here, Caesar of the Sands and Queen of the eggs. She commands attention. She attends. She governs. She treasures the eggs, especially the last pretty egg. And she treasures the Sands. And perhaps - just perhaps - she will treasure the eventual Candidates. But she only settles for the best, the best of everything, and it is into a perfectly round collesium of Sand that she drops the next two brightly colored eggs in quick succession:

Royal Tyrian Robe of Caesar Egg
Across the linen-white canvas of the shell stretches an uneven band of Tyrian purple, delineated with narrow aureate borders. Rosy as wine and twice as decadent, the imperial shade is flecked with gold to form small leaf-like patterns. Hitched into slenderness high upon one tapering side, the band drops loosely down and curls broadly around the middle of the egg. The ruddy hue is striated with bluish shadow in places, evoking meticulous folds of cloth suiting an ovoid so nobly enrobed.

Royal Meridian Egg
The juxtaposition of color is rather striking as it drapes across this regal egg. Slightly aslant and somewhat nebulous, the division between two royal hues - purple and yellow - arrays near the center of the egg to run with a few loose folds from the narrow apex to the broad base, where it's lost amid the Sands like so much fine fabric spilling toward the ground. No discernable seam marks where one color ends and the next begins, but the distinction between the two is obvious. Where purple, the shell seems to hold about itself a disdainfully livid hue made of heavy velvet replete with haute couteur. Yellow bears a definitive airiness akin to the finest silks in an understated shade of gold that is nonetheless laden with condescension.

"Oh come on, it's fun!" Baji sniffs, attempting to reach 'round a Sapha to poke at a Lyria, and in the end huddling back into his place. Never should've tried to do otherwise, really. "Ooh, what kind of sauce?" he asks Yuli as a way to distract himself, licking his lips lightly. "Maybe that spicey stuff that the one drudge makes so well… Y'think?" At which point the previously pointing hand goes to tap at the goldrider's fingers excitedly.

On the sands, Fast clutching? No problem. Is Tiareth going /too/ fast? Maybe she aught take a break and slow down so that you all can take a good gander and she can rest. Resting, though, doesn't seem appealing at all. Nuff and Zi'n are watched carefully, before she slides her eyes again to Orbyth, and then back to the eggs. My pretties.

Larnat seems to have lost Wyn in a sea of betters, or however it's spelled, although supposedly that is the correct way. So she iinches ever-/so/-slowly over to where Sinead and Ajala are. And Laytai, for that matter. Of course, several types are displaced in her haste to jet over, but the end result appeals to her. She got where /she/ wanted to go, anyway. "How d'you think it's going so far?" she murmurs, in-between glaring at the eggs. Odd thing, isn't she?

"Oh Really? A Huddle-puddle? Joy!" Sapha asks of the Bronze-rider, she is too sane, just also she rides green, it's the green that makes the difference really. "Yeah what he said." She pipes up innocently, not making eye contact with Lyria or the apprentice.

Pyrene hmms at those latest two. "Very pretty, those… That's 19 or 20, I think?" She leans forward, elbows propped her knees as she searches for signs of the old gold slowing down.

Ajala nods as she rubs her arm. Poking is painful, Eady. Very painful. "Yes, those two are nice. But there will always be a part of me that is in awe of the scrunched up little kidlet face. Hey, now those two are goooooorgeous." She giggles as she indicates the newest additions. The clutching is turning her into even more of a ham than she already is. A hand pat is given to the glaring Larnat. "I think its going quite well! Tiareth's a pro." She chuckles, then blinks in confusion. Did anyone else here….OOC latin?

On the sands, Tiareth adds a precious to her pretties after doing a full circle around the clutch. She goes there, and back again, and finally resettles herself in her favorite spot to drop two more eggs. She's already looking skinnier, and more tired. But the eggs, wet and soft as they are, all appear to be in good health. And these two look very good indeed.

Pyrite's Gold of Fools Egg
The delightful sparkliness and shine of this egg would blind all who gaze upon its perfect form, its illuminating presence! The faintest of light reflects off its foil-like surface, resplendent in its golden hues which vary from the palest of sun's rays to the deepest amber ever known. Mirrored images warp and twist across the curved surface like some funhouse mirror; but lo and behold! Flakes seem to peel from the narrowed end, and if examined closely, one might see plain ol' white beneath that golden facade. Fooled you.

Amateur Magician's Star-Spangled Cloak Egg.
Twilight's mauve captures the length of this elongated ovoid. Dusty in patches from the sand, the amethyst tones appear to have the texture of velour which blurs the shape of this egg and makes it seem much more mysterious than it should seem. Random areas of smooth aureate materialise amongst the threadbare purple while haphazard shapes of stars, moons and magic dust lend a certain charm to the egg, despite its impoverished appearance.

Yulianna blinks at Baji as if he's just sprouted another head - or laid a couple of his own eggs. "I'm sure." comes the puzzled response, and she gnaws on her own lip. "What about stew for dinner? At this point anythin' sounds good." And her mind has officially left the building.

Lyria ish poked, and seems to be getting chilly herself and finally gives in to sqoosh into the edge of the Istan huddle. "Fine," she mumbles, sinking into her jacket more.

Sinead chuckles. "Sorry Aja," she gives with a snicker before she eyes the other eggs, or, the newest two eggs. "Wow, they certainly do like to come out in pairs," she notes with a snicker. "And those two are lovely," nodnod, of course they are, they're eggs. "Anyway, they're not quite as 'lovely' as Cadgwith's and Druseth's clutch," not the sarcasm in that one.

D'baji stares back at the goldrider with similar confusion, and nod slowly. "I could make stew, haven't done that in a while… Might have to go grab some spices and that, but I do have my pon…" Blink as the goldrider's behaviour's analyzed. "Please say Miyakath's not proddy again…" At which point he winces, apparently having been reprimanded for that negative thought for what would be such a wonderful occasion. Trust Nverath…

Laytai snorts and rolls her eyes as she overhears Ajala, but also nods in agreement. "Aye, I think it is going well. Fast, which is what I like." Smug smile. "Just wish the colors would..expand." But it seems like Laytai's wish will not be granted. "Seems the rider rubbed off a bit to much on the dragon." Or at least in her opinion. "Oh, hey, I like that last one! Very nice."

On the sands, Tiareth stretched. Her neck needs a stretch. Her legs need a stretch. So, one appendage at a time, Tiareth stretched. Watch the stretching and love. And we need more eggs like all of these - 'Reth's probably broken the record for purple eggs. But she's getting bored with sitting…may I get up? The second the gold seriously considers it, though, she relaxes again - are there more?

Larnat nods. "That's true, of course." Her gaze flickers steadily back to the eggs, though, as something seems to make her smile. A 'Nocte, to be precise. He's chitter-sliding face-first into the ground down her arm, and the endearing little wraith always produces a smile from her. Cackle. Or…a cackle. "I like a few of 'em." Not talkative. Eh.

On the sands, Tiareth indeed, has more. Just a few more. Even another purple one - purple, but healthy. At least Tiareth seems to think so as she gives it a careful nudge and a low-rumbling purr before burying it in the Sands.

Aftermath of a Fall Egg
Puce - that strange combination of gangrene purple and putrid green where neither color quite overwhelms the other, but both are completely visible as themselves - blooms rather painfully over the softly rounded side of this egg. The intensely dreary shade of color contrasts cleanly with the more common, natural linen shade typical of ovoids with brutish affirmation. Bilious ocher oozes from all sides of the globular mass of puce to necrotize the healthier, clean part of the shell like a rotten limb infects other parts of a body.

On the sands, Tiareth then adds another one that can't be anything but 'cute'.

Itsy-Bitsy Teeny-Weeny Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini Egg
A lovely hue of cinnamon rolls across the surface, as if the egg itself has lain out upon the very lakeshore of the weyr during a summer's day. Two thin bands of pale white wrap about its width; spattered upon them are faint multi-sized polka-dots in a sunshine yellow to gleefully add a playful quality to the ovoid's curves. Luckily for the egg, /these/ polka-dots can't be tugged off.

Sapha pays no attention to the pair, instead she cuddles closer to Lyria. "Hey you found a weyr yet?" she asks in a mock-whisper, whilst there is a lull in the egg laying action. "I did, When we get back wanna see it?" She asks. "Oooh Pretty" She points at the Majic and Fools Eggs. "So do you?"

Somehow Tiareth's languid stretching is infectious or is it just the cramped seating in the galleries? Thesy follows the gold's example, though in a more human way. And spots her wingleader. "Hey, Ciera! Ever seen so many purplish eggs in one clutch?" She laughs and waves a hand at the other bluerider, Isthy following ensuite, her eyes, however smiling briefly at her mother's wingmate before she glances back down at the sands.

On the sands, Tiareth thinks we need more eggs like these. Those eyes that have been travelling all about are now all Nuff's, and dragon is contented with rider's eyes. Orbyth is, as well, adored, but Nuff is what matters right now. 'Reth's eggs are Nuff's eggs, and Nuff seems to be happy. And to think how many little witchies we'll get from these! Don't you agree, Orbyth?

Lyria nods proudly,"I sure did. Way high over the southbowl. Great view of the whole weyr. Ski picked it out for us." Nodnod. She points towards the spiny-type purple egg,"I like that one." Yup. "Sure, yeah, I'll come see it. How're you going t' decorate?"

On the sands, Nuff knows the hatching goes on for hours and hours, but it seems like only minutes to her. She's still there, watching and cooing and encouraging, and occasionally holding an ice-chilled cloth to her forehead to cool the Heat. "Oh but I /am/ glad I already have you, Tiareth. Just think of all the Candidates we will get to meet?"

Pyrene oofs as Thesy stretches next to her. "Watch it, Thes," she complains, trying to shift herself back into a comfortable position. "Well, I'm bored now. Tiareth can finish - I think we must be about right for 24 now?" Another reason for Tiareth to stop.

On the sands, Tiareth lays one for Orbyth then. Not a purple one, not a large one. But a nice one. And its not one hundred and three either. Its only twenty-five. She almost pretends to be finished, but her restlessness betrays at least one more egg.

Not All That Glisters Isn't Gold Egg
Oh, how it shines! Oh, how it sparkles! Glistering gold and shining silver weave an intricate pattern upon the shell of this protruding egg to create a sharp contrast against the dark sand which cradles it. Illuminated with an inner glow, it rests royally, regally - as if it alone is the single-most important thing, not to be compared with its less-than-bright peers. Look closer, however - below the surface, below gilted gold and sleek silver, it is just an egg, no different from the others. After all, it is what's inside that counts, and all the beauty in the world cannot be compared to the living, breathing creature resting safely within the confines of this shell - for now.

Sapha makes noises of admiration, which undoubtedly will be sent to Rilskiath via Phirath. "Wow, now thats a prime spot. I only got a forest weyr. But the views to die for." She too brags about her new home. "Oooh pretty Golden Egg.

Laytai pulls a few free strands of hair behind her ear and straightens her back. "Well..now. That last one is rather…intriguing." For lack of better words. "Very..erm..happy looking?" Cough. Yes. "Anyone have a complete total as of right..now?" Add one more to that now. "Shards, that one'll hurt ya eyes if ya look a'it to long."

Yulianna blinks back to reality…or to Baji. "Sure - I didn't mean ya' had to make it yerself. Just that it sounded good. An' Miyakath's -NOT- proddy." she states firmly, poking Baji lightly in the shoulder. "An' ya' never complained about it before." she states overly flatly.

Sinead gives a wave to any newcomers, before poking somoene. "Look, pretty egg," she motions at the most recently clutched egg. "Isn't it pretty?" she questions again, of couse it is, now that she's only said it half a dozen times.

"Thesy!" Ciera spots her wingmate and wiggles through the people oogling the eggs. A perfunctory nod to Pyrene, and the bluerider gazes out over the Sands, lips pursed. "It hurts my eyes. Too much purple and yellow. Kind of like being beaten upside the head with a field of flowers."

On the sands, Tiareth, after so many hours on the Sands, has little energy left. But she has enough, just enough, to finish the clutching. Nature would not allow for anything else, of course. Despite her deflated size, there are still a few eggs left, and one of them arrives in a gentle rush of wintry flower:

Autumn Crocus Egg
The faint plum hue of a maiden's blush gently washes across this ovoid form to fade into the soft indigo-violet shades reminiscent of an autumn crocus in the midst of winter. A golden light illuminates the surface to lend a shimmer along the curves of the shell and highlights three strands of saffron which stream forth from the narrowed end. That same gold luminescence transmutes itself to slender bands of reddish-lavender that encircle the bottom with a faint, sprinkled pattenr. Intriguing and unique, it tempts with a blatant curiosity as to what lies within, what dreams it may bring.

Pyrene counts again and makes a moue. "That's 25… I think? More than 24 though. Well, she won't break 30." Really, she won't.

"Hush, you," is said simply to Yulianna, the bronzerider turning very, very red. And then going to sit and watch the clutching unobtrusively 'till it's over.

Larnat's eyes scan the sands, as her head makes a wild series of movements in an attempt to gain a better view. Urf. Ugh. But it all seems to come to naught, Larnat still floundering as the next one goes out. But she /does/ see a corner of it, so is satisfied. For the time being, alone, of course.

Sapha makes noises of admiration, which undoubtedly will be sent to Rilskiath via Phirath. "Wow, now thats a prime spot. I only got a forest weyr. But the views to die for." She too brags about her new home. "Oooh pretty Golden Egg." She breathes before switching back to the subject at hand. "Decorate? Ya know I haven't really thought 'bout it yet. I have family you see." She shrugs. If' she's lucky there may be some space for her twixt life-mate and siblings.

On the sands, Tiareth, tired now, nay, /exhausted/, sinks still lower into the Sands. She breathes low and slow, her great empty sides heaving now from the many long hours laying eggs. She looks for her Nuff, finding the little Weyrwoman toddling up to lay a hand on her warm nose. They stand like that for sometime time, nothing in the world but each other, and then Tiareth pushes out the last two eggs.

Ocean Sunrise Egg
Lavender mists roll across a calm surface of golden liquid while a contrast of dark violet clouds appear towards the edge of the egg. Bursts of golden light engulf random patches of purple haze, all reflected upon the watery surface with a painter's impressionistic touch. A lonely streak of brilliant white gold fires directly towards the center of this ovoid to split it into two resplendent halves of colour. Ripples of rose and red-orange glimmer across oceanic-blue, flaring out from a lone star of white positioned directly in the center of the horizon to bring forth dawn in dramatic fashion.

Silhouette at Sunset Egg
Choppy indigo waves roll across the lower half of this egg to meet a paler, cloud-streaked sky above a sharp horizon. Upon this intersection, a blazing sphere of fiery orange projects colors across both halves; red and violet vie for dominance, smeared pastel-like over the top and illuminating clouds from within while cresting tempests break up the frothy bits of vibrant color. Darkly dramatic against this stage of light and shadow, a needle-fir silhouette pierces across water and sky alike, not far from the setting orb. The evergreen's black shape is limned first by a ring of purple and then by one of red, a haunting backlit illusion that overshadows the lonely, solitary beauty.

On the sands, Tiareth has clutched from Dawn till Dusk. She is finally /done/. And no, she doesn't have a heart attack and die, thank you very much. Sinking the last two purple and gold eggs into the Sands, she lowers herself around them and curls up. There will be no moving her, not for days, and woe be it to anyone but Nuff and her mate's Rider to even venture a toe onto these Sands. Tiareth will keep these soft, fragile eggs safe beneath a mantle of motherly wings and many turns of experience. But now, right now, it is time to sleep. Nuff pads closer, moving in near Tiareth's head and sitting down onto the Sands. She lays her forhead against that oh-so-familiar hide of sunset and whispers words of awe and wonder meant for her dragon alone.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" Thesy glances anxiously at Pyrene, even though she can't remember any physical contact with the woman beside her. But before the goldrider can answer, Ciera catches her attention, "Yes, it's almost ridiculous. But I think they're pretty, don't you?"

Aiana rolls her eyes and sidles up behind the one she knows but hasn't seen in many turns, Aiana's grown since the last she's seen Sapha but the mischieviousness is matured and Aiana can always be recognized. She's grinning now and then in a quick deft motion gives Sapha a really hard, pinch (with a twist) right in the tender spot where her waist meets her behind. "What's this? Drooling over a clutchin' like a deweyed, dragon lusted holdbrat? I'dve thought better of ye. Dragon lifts her big butt an' pops out a big egg. What's t'git all twitterd about?"

Lyria nods in agreement, about the egg, that is. "Mmhm. Well, Ski seems to be likin' red colors, but I like something more neutral like cream…So we're thinking cream and red-colors." Makes sense. With lots of plush pillows and bookcases galore. Yes, Lyri shall start an Istan library in her weyr.

Sinead waits as several more eggs make they're presence known. "Is that all?" she whispers, stifling a yawn as she does so. "I'm rather ready for a nap after this," she snickers. "And I hope that no one's tried to ransack the Weyr, what with most of the guards here," she offers a shake of her dark locks before stretching, various bones can be heard popping a bit.

Pyrene sits up and looks appeased. "28 eggs then. Not bad for old Tiareth… Don't think any are gold though." That last statement is more wish than fact; Tiareth reserves the right to declare the absence or presence of a queen egg.

Sapha squeals, squirming about so she can rub the spot so roughly abused by the sea-crafter. "My word how rude." She comments first and foremost. "And no, just tagged along for the ride. It's cold here." the Istan greenlet sniffles, her hands still rubbing her stinging flesh, and her expression still injured. "And you're mean." Her attention shifts to Lyria. "Oooh Cream and Red. Pretty." Yeah she makes sense eventually.

Ciera eyes the collapsed gold skeptically. "Tired, much? I hope she's okay. She's getting on in Turns, now. Hope it's not starting to affect her health, laying such huge clutches." She runs her tongue over her lips, then shrug. "Well, nothing she can't sleep off, hopefully. And the eggs are… colorful. Yes."

Mound of Eggs
Gold Tiareth and bronze Orbyth's eggs - all twenty eight of them - lie half-buried in the sands. They get turned and attended, cherished, gaurded, and kept from harm while the geothermal heat of the Sands helps form the dragonets inside.

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