High Reaches' 15th PC Hatching

Cadgwith's gold Tiareth x J'lal's gold Ghraith
December 10th 2006
Logged by Nissa & Pyrene

Candidate Barracks
Serviceable, this low-ceiling'd room runs right and left from the heavy canvas curtains that function as a door: relatively bare of ornamentation, tidy glows light the few worn tapestries that adorn the walls and depict a variety of dragons in flight or at rest. But it is the cots, lots and lots of cots, that distinguish this room from the others, their blue or black coverlets tucked neatly over relatively fresh rushes.
Candidate's haven, this is their escape from the bustling world of chores and Weyr; visitors are welcome if invited.
Perched on a few empty cots are fifteen firelizards.
You see Name Board, Cheyanna's Cot, Xayna's Cot, Micail's Cot, Khalylai's Little Shop of Horrors, Nissa's Cot, Iliad's Cot, Jaryyd's Cot, Cailyn's Cot, Lairae's Cot, Airam's Cot, Stitch's Cot, Ryan's Cot, Jillriel's Cot, Cam's Comfy Cot, Sneakyfeet, and Zeke here.
Jillriel, Lairae, Meerak, Stitch, Xayna, Airam, Cheyanna, Micail, Jaryyd, and Ryan are here.

Iliad escapes in from the bustling activity of caverns and Weyr.
Cailyn escapes in from the bustling activity of caverns and Weyr.

Sao escapes in from the bustling activity of caverns and Weyr.
Sao pokes her head into the barracks, just on the off chance. "Is my sister in here?"

Nissa is sat cross-legged on her cot, humming tunelessly as she darns a sock with a look of intense concentration. Ignore the white tunic lying beside her, with its hem all unravelled. She glances up at Sao, and then looks blankly around the room.

Lairae , who had been sitting on her cot, doing her own mendingrather badly, since her attention is clearly on her own thoughtslooks up. "Yes?" She blinks. "What do you need, Sao?"

Sao waggles a beckoning hand at her, still only half in the room. She says, "C'mere!"
Sao slips back out to the caverns.

Jaryyd is lounging on his cot, his recently enlarged fair curled up on his feet. He smiles at them as he finishes up the sewing on the neckline of his robe. Whoever had had the robe last must have been mauled, no other reason could explain all the rips and tears in the fabric. Pushing that unpleasant thought away, Jar focuses on his robe.

Xayna is sitting on her cot making shading into one of herb leaf drawings on her hides. A look up with a smile to Sao, then she readjusts her legs before continuing. Her hair and clothes are rumpled, obviously from a nap.

Lairae takes a moment longer to set her mending down carefully so she doesn't lose her needle, and goes over to her sister, nodding to the others as she passes them. "What?" she asks again, more curiosity than exasperation in her tone.

Micail shuffles in from outside..inching his way around Sao. Well..she's right /there/ in the doorway. Wriggle. He does look a bit tired though, pouting. He didn't get to take the nap he'd planned on, yet. Hmph. He does stop at his cot though, reaching down to tug one of his shoes off. There's..something../in/ there. A pebble! Which falls right out when he turns it upside down.

Lairae slips back out to the caverns.

Nissa looks after Lairae with a little more curiosity than she'd previously shown; then with a sigh, she sets aside the darned sock and picks up her robe in order to give the hem a tug. "Do you think it needs to be really neat?" she asks the room at large.

Just recently arrived in the barracks, Cailyn is busying herself trying to get her hair back into a runner's tail. Of course, her hair doesn't seem to want to cooperate. Either that or Cate's expectation of what her hair should look like is extremely high. After all, today's not a normal day. A good hair day is a must. The other candidates are eyed occassionally, but for the most part, Cailyn concentrates on getting her hair just right.

Stitch doesn't really own a whole lot so his cot area is pristine except for his lump of a body laying on top of it scribbling on a piece of paper, drawing something. His lengthly curls bob into his face, batted away by a hand.

Airam rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and finally looks up from where he sits cross-legged on his cot, robe spread out across his legs as he runs his hands over the fabric checking for tears he missed. "It's a robe Nissa." He comments with slight amusement, it /is/ very hard to pull off looking good in a robe.

"I hope not Nissa. Mine looks horrible." Xayna sets aside her hide to pull her robe out of her chest. The hems are clearly all crooked. "At least I clipped off all the frayed ends." A sly grin and she looks over her robe again critically. "Oop…too loose here." A stitch near the shoulder is pulled at.

It does not take Jar long to finish up the neckline of his robe, so, he folds it and sets it neatly aside. He slides his thread and needle into a pouch and sticks them under his cot along with his boots, pants, shirts, and other assorted items. Looking at Nissa he nods, "I suppose so, though, since some of us are using old robes, not too terribly nice."

Stitch groans. "I hope those blasted eggs never hatch. I found out why they never give a Harper a needle and thread." he reaches under his cot and pulls out his disasterous robe, complete with a third arm, giving him a tail. "It's so pathetic!"

Micail is already without one shoe..so the other one comes right off. His toes need some wriggle-room for a while. He does peer around at those working on their robes. Oh yeah. /So/ glad that he finished working on his already. He moves over though, rolling so he can lay on his stomach, peering toward Stitch with a blink. "Oh calm down.. I'm sure.. Well it can't be that bad."

Nissa gives a heavy sigh, shoulders rising and falling ostenstatiously. "Aunty Vi would never forgive me if I went out looking a mess." Rather than an old robe, hers appears to be made of pristine white cloth (although it may have done previous duty as a bedsheet or pillowcase). She threads a needle with another sigh - and an amused glance at Stitch's robe (he doesn't live up to his name, clearly) - and sets to fixing the droopy hem.

Stitch stuffs it back under his bed and says "Are any of yoru families comin up here? I know they can't predict when they're gonna hatch but they oughtta have an idea, like in the next month or so."

Airam finished his robe /long/ ago, but it's always nice to be absolutely sure nothing is going to rip or fall off right there on the sands. Oh great, a new something to panic about. Sigh. He looks over at Stitch's robe as it slides under the bed, "It's the effort that counts I think." He adds, a bit belatedly.

Xayna shrugs. "I really don't care how I look in the robe. I won't be wearing it for more than one day so…" She catches her reflection in a piece of reflective medal and groans. "My hair is a total mess…" So the runner tail and braid is taken out and she brushes her hair out, making a face when a tangle is caught.

Stitch nods. "Aye, I doubt the dragonets ar gonna care much. Do ye wnat me t'fix yer hair, Xayna?"

Lairae escapes in from the bustling activity of caverns and Weyr.

Khalylai has connected.

Cheyanna grins over at Xayna from where she sits. "Should shave your head," she says, her own closs-cropped hair too short to present any trouble. "Less trouble." She glances at the door. "I should go soon; I'm supposed to help out in the kitchens. What do you want to bet they start humming just as we go to bed?"

Jaryyd lays down on his cot. Not mine," he yawns, 'My mother is too old for travel of any sort. And my father and sister, well, they're…gone. But as important as family is, I don't mind not having them there…" He sighs and closes his eyes. He's not sleeping, just resting his eyes a bit!

Cailyn's robe certainly isn't anything special, but it's not a complete disaster either. It'll serve it's purpose. Realizing that her hair is as good as it's going to get, a white ribbon is tied to hold it in place. Cate decides to use her few free moments to relax on her cot, sprawling out with a deep sigh.

"I am officially retiring from chores." Apparently, Iliad's wiped, from whatever the heck it was that he was doing. He collapses upon his cot, face first, before rolling onto his side, curling knees up in a semi-fetal position.

Xayna gives a shrug to Stitch's first question. "My sister might come up, I don't know. She might not have the time." The second smile gets a bright smile and a nod. "If you don't mind. My arms are little tired. I helped pull up weeds to learn about them today." The brush is handed over after she gets up and sits on the edge of his cot so he can do what he wants.

Micail gives a little grin at Xayna. "See, now I'm glad I cut my hair." He would've had to worry about it too. But thusfar..nope. The shortened locks aren't a problem for him right now. Airam gets a small shrug though as he sits up again. "I'm not touching mine again.. If I do, I'll end up ruining it."

Lairae re-enters the barracks, a hat in her hands, white-colored and thin, apparently made to match a robe. She sits back down on her cot and smooths the hat for a while before waking up enough to follow the conversation.

Khalylai drops into her own cot, not too far away from Iliad's own thud; "Enough chores. I'm dead from them." The words are muffled, as Khaly's face down— but that's her general mood.

"Aunty Vi will be there, and all her cronies from the laundry," Nissa answers Stitch, sewing busily for a moment before looking at Xayna. "It could do with a brush, yep," she agrees less than tactfully, and then tugs at her own curls.

Siannen slips in from the Sands, way over there outside over there over there.

Airam stays silent on his cot, ignoring those around him now in an effort to get his robe examination finished. And they're making him more nervous.

Cameron comes home.

The dragons have started humming! @move yourself to #5000 to watch the Hatching of High Reaches latest clutch!
— entered by Pyrene on 2006-12-10 16:57 MOO Time.

The sounds of people talking /seems/ to lull Jar into a doze. He can hear and understand everything going on, but he's not quite all the way awake. And so he rests, and listens for now.

With a water-toting sister in tow, a slightly-bult bluerider with vaguely greying brown hair and pale blue eyes arrives in the doorway of the barracks. Cr'ash claps his hands once, then twice to gain attention: "Candidates!" he calls out, more commanding than usual in his role as guide. "Candidates, assemble! The dragons are humming, the eggs are rocking. Robes on, hands empty! Remember to bow to Cadgwith and Ghraith, then form a loose circle around the eggs."

The sound begins on the edge of perception, but grows in intensity until it seems to shake the very walls.

Cheyanna startles as the sound of humming begins, deep and vibrant, buzzing in the floor and walls. A second later, Cr'ash follows, and Cheyanna is already moving, diving for her robe.

Assemble? Are they the Avengers? With a blink, he pulls out his travesty of a candidate robe and pulls it on, tying it as he slides to his feet, nearly tripping over it. "Bloody flaming crawlies, what in the world…"

Khalylai notes Cr'ash's entrance. She knows him! He's… like an uncle. Sort of. The young woman straightens, eyes widening as she does so. Oh— ah. There's only a half-beat of surprised indecision, then she's neatly undressing, rummaging her robe and methodically redressing. "Showtime!" is her rather exhuberant - well, for Khaly - exclaimation.

Jillriel knew that sheet of hers was good for something. "Robe's done." Shoddy stitching and all. Hey, this ain't no beauty contest anyway. Shee— robe, is tossed aside on her cot /just/ as Cr'ash enters the barracks. "Shards, that's /loud/.." Time to get ready.

Wait a minute. What-what? Can't even talk about anything anymore without it happening. As Cr'ash starts clapping and calling, the baker-candidate squeaks, rolling to the side of his cot so he can grab the robe from its place beneath, starting to yank his clothes off. Off..off..robe on! Who cares if it looks a tad..crooked in places. Pft. He does get up though, looking around quickly as he shoves his sandals on.

"Oh f—" Faranth? Mebbe. Hands go to Iliad's ears for a moment before he jumps up, yanking his robe out from beneath his pillow. Good place for it, right? Yay for wrinkles. Tunic's shrugged off quickly to tug the robe on before the rest is doffed from his body, sans undershorts. They stay. But sandals? They definitely slide back onto his feet. Ta da!
[OOC:] Micail says "shoves in name in. Woo."

So much for chores! Been fun! When dragons start humming, Meerak's sent skipping quickly to the barracks, along with a flood of other candidates. White flashes all 'round, and he joins that as well, skimming out of his shirt to drop the robe over his head, changing quickly. He tugs off boots with painstaking care.

Jaryyd is jolted /right out/ of his sleep and he jumps to his feet. He's out of his old clothes and into his robe in record time. He pulls his hair back with a white cord and slips sandals on his fee. Well, he's ready. The humming starts to vibrate his bones and it's a wonder he can think with it all!

Cameron comes running into the barracks his eyes wide "The whole place feels like it's going to come down." Oh dear. Where's that robe? He scrambles to his cot and for once the normally calm dolphincrafter is quite frazzled as he strips and dress and he doesn't even notice any bareing of flesh.

Nissa tumbles off her cot, dragging off her clothes in willy-nilly abandon. She does remember to pull the needle out of her robe's hem, but the thread is left dangling as she yanks it over her shoulders and fastens the woven belt. She's on her knees a moment later, rummaging under her cot. "I can't find my shoes!" she wails after a lot of poking around. "And Micail 'specially told me not to lose them!"

Lairae eeps and sets her new hat down to don her robe. When she finally stands, robe on, the hat remains, as Lairae's attention is on Cr'ash and the other candidates.

And so it begins. With her moment of relaxation officially over, Cailyn swings her legs off of her cot as she starts digging underneath it to find her robe. It's there somewhere. Within seconds, it's found and put on, Cailyn ready to go. Frantically, eyes search for a buddy, landing on Jillriel. Locking arm in arm, she grins nervously to the other girl before eyes peer around to see everyone else's progress.

Airam's head snaps up to look around at the walls and then the dragonrider's abrupt entrance, and in a second hops shakily off his cot and is changing into his robe. No time for an examination now. He pulls it over his head and slips his sandals on and moves to join the others in their mass exit.

Xayna just grins at all the comments about her long hair. "I like my hair. It tangles, but at least I can put it up and do stuff with it if I want." As Cr'ash enters with his announcement and the humming is heard, Xayna is standing and pulling off her shirt and trousers, throwing them onto her cot. Boots are pulled off, as she she hops around in front of her cot, before slipping sandals on while pulling her robe over her head. The brush is taken back from Stitch, thrown onto her cot, one side of her hair still looking unbrushed from her nap.

Cheyanna jerks her tunic off, toes off her boots, and wrenches her robe into place — carefully, yes: she does not wish to risk her careful stitches. She does not put on sandals to replace them, ready to head out traditionally barefoot.

Micail gives a small squeak at Nissa's wailing. "You lost them?" He /did/ say not to lose those things! He flails a little as he darts across the barracks to try and help.

Ryan finally manages to look up from…whatever he was doing in his cot. Stumbling out from the cot, he scurries to start searching for where is robe was left, pulling it over swiftly. Taking a pause now that it's actually on, a moment is taken to straighten it out and smooth over and wrinkles. All ready to go, he brings his attention for instructions on what to do now.

Khalylai has dressed in record time. However, the young woman is unusually frantic— looking for her sandals. "Noooooo," comes the second uncharacteristic outburst from the girl. She raids Micail's cot, which is her best guess as to where her shoes may be. "Mouse! I can't find my sandals!" Ahem.

Jillriel tugs on her sandals and gives herself a once over before an arm is snatched by Cailyn. "Good, I need someone to lean on." Nervous? Quite. Well, she's completely dressed and waiting along with her clinging buddy.

Cr'ash surveys the hasty flurry of activity, turning his head slightly to reminisce with his tiny sister for a moment. Then the moment is over, and he's clapping his hands again. "You don't need shoes," he calls out with a trace of laughter, "But they're probably a good idea — too late to look, though. Time to line up!" He makes shooing motions with his hands toward the nearest candidates, redirecting one smaller boy toward the right direction.

Meerak is still bent beneath his cot, digging around for his sandals. He rises with a snort when told they don't need them. "Suck it up," he calls in Khalylai's direction, narrowing his eyes — like he's making a /competition/ out of it. Bare toes wriggle as he tugs down the hem of his tunic.

"I give up, I give up…" Nissa abandons her search for shoes, though she does give Micail a bright smile and a fleeting thanks, with the addition of "Sounds like Khalylai needs help too!" She shuffles into line anxiously, one hand fidgeting with her curls.

Micail is the sandal man? /Why/ is Mickey the sandal man? "Well /I/ don't have them!" Why would Khaly's sandals be in his cot, anyway? The baker-candie looks rather flustered already as he rushes away though, his own sandals making little slapping noises on the floor. In line he goes.

Stitch is close enough to the ground. Not wearing shoes would be absolute torture for the 4 foot tall candidate. Sliding on his sandals, he moves along with the others, trying to find his place in line, peeking out from behind someone occasionally to see when this train is going to start moving.

Lairae is quick to follow the direction to line up, standing still once she is to adjust one sandal, and frown after those who can't find theirs.

"You can help me not throw up," is said in an aside to Jillriel, Cailyn grinning nervously, eyes wide. "I guess this is it. Time to meet our fate." That being said, Cailyn pulls the two in the right direction to go and line up properly.

Iliad is silent as he drags his body over to the line, using the heel of one hand to rub against the bridge of his nose. And that's it.

Cameron stares at the rider and groans as his knees go all liquid on him "I dunno if i can go out there? What if I do get a female in my head like teh Weyrwoman said." He looks about ready to fall back onto his cot.

Jillriel drags Cailyn with her to line up with the rest of the candidates. "C'mon, girl. Let's go before we get trampled." Faranth, these kids can move when they wanna.

Jaryyd joins the line rather quickly. His face is a schooled plain of calm perfection, but inside his heart has jumped into his throat, throbbing, and his stomach churns unmercifully. But here he stands, ready for his next set of orders. He can hear his newest flits peeping at all the confusion, but anxious though he is to go to them, he lets Kestrel deal with the hatchlings for now.

Cheyanna scrambles into line at Cr'ash's instruction, bounching lightly on her tones like she is about to begin shadowboxing. She offers Iliad and Ryan quick, nervous grins.

Khalylai dives for Nissa. "We shall be the courageous ones, then," she declares with no small amountof bravado, grabbing her hand and dragging other young woman with her. "Suck -what-, Meeky?" she tosses back — "In your dreams!" Green eyes are bright with te moment.

Xayna finishes sliding on her sandals before lining up with the others. While moving, she kicks one foot and then the other to get sand out from the last time she was at the beach. "Thank you for the offer Stitch, but I guess we need to go now." The offer to brush her hair she means.

Airam nervously adjusts his robe, even though it doesn't really need it. He makes his way to the line and takes a spot near the end. "Okay… I'm ready… I hope." Not the most confident, but it'll do. He looks at the others and offers a few encouraging half-smiles.

Sandals, right. Those would be a good idea. Ryan turns around from his way to the lin being formed to slip footwear on. Everything in check /now/ he can take his place in line. The same grin is returned to Cheyanna and Iliad.

"Good luck, guys," Iliad finally offers to his fellow guard-candidates, a quick salute offered to each. And the rest of the candidates? They're just eyed skeptically. Let the best man win? Er.

Nissa squeezes Khalylai's hand tightly in return, giving the other girl a brief, nervous smile. Barefooted they shall brave the sands…

Khalylai doesn't attempt to knee Iliad in special places as she passes him. Really.

Simultaneously on the Sands…

Pyrene shrugs at J'lal. "The candidates have been in a tizzy all day." She stretches and peers at her dragon who is sleepily staring into space. "Hurry up, Cadge. I'd love to sleep in a cold weyr tonight."

Cadgwith turns at the sound of her rider's voice and considers the eggs with interest. She must be feeling obliging today, because her eyes brighten and she starts humming, a sound quickly picked up by hundreds of other dragons within the Weyr.

Cadgwith senses that she rushes tsunami-like in her delight. « They're ready! The Hatching! Come see! »

Ghraith appears to be in accord with the clutch dam as he, too, picks up the bass thrum that reverberates through the Weyr. He rises, shifting back on his haunches, an anticipatory gleam swirling into his gaze.

J'lal clears his throat, brows lifting, as he watches first one, then the other, dragon begin to thrum. "Well, it's about time. I suspect we won't be getting any water now, though."

Beast of Gevaudan Egg gives an abrupt shake as if startled by the sudden humming. What, now?

Sweet as Honey Egg trembles gently, run through with the shock of a shiver.

Pyrene gives a little wriggle of delight as it kicks in, grabbing J'lal's arm as she moves to the side of the Sands. "Good luck darling," she calls to her dragon. "They'll be beautiful!" Of course!

J'lal is just in time to crook his arm and offer it to Pyrene as she preemptively grabs at it. He takes a long look at Cadgwith, then smiles at the goldrider beside him. "Of course they will."

Dark Side of the Moon Egg twitches.

The Candidates step from shadows to sand, joining the eggs.

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.
To the southeast, you see one person.
Gold Cadgwith and bronze Ghraith are here.
You see Mound of Eggs, Beast of Gevaudan Egg, Come Reap Harvest Moon Egg, Minions of the Moon Egg, Dark Side of the Moon Egg, Em-Oh-Oh-En Egg, Crying for the Moon Egg, Sweet as Honey Egg, and To Feed the Hunger Egg here.

The 8 PC eggs:

Beast of Gevaudan Egg
The palest glimmer of moon-white crests this egg, yet sterling shadow and gunmetal menace spill down its side. Flashes of shining silver chase the bristling dark in a dizzying whirl around the shell, but still they miss their mark, for something lurks in the sheltering black at its base - something vicious and inimical, cruel and twisted as a head thrown back in a silent howl.
Come Reap Harvest Moon Egg
Heavy on the vine, fruit hangs in rich crimson swells over the smooth shell, splashes of lush color amidst molten butter. The egg is pumpkin-plump and golden-warm, reflected sunlight gleaming on the face of the smiling moon, large and gravid on the horizon. The yellow of roasted corn, the shimmer of ripe wheat, the amber spill of cold beer… all these mingle together over the shell, a harvest of inviting plenty.
Dark Side of the Moon Egg
Midnight indigos and twilit violets cloak this small egg in mystery and majesty. Its shadowed, dark curves are gentle, and the starlit silver that limns one rounded end serves only to mark it further as an enigma: its secrets must remain out of sight, though perhaps not for ever.
Em-Oh-Oh-En Egg
A battle of the ages rages over the shell of this large ovoid: good versus evil; heaven versus hell. On one side, red reigns, scattered with the bitter gold of greed, casino chips and promiscuous greens flashing in an enticingly erotic, sinful dance; the other half, in bold contrast, is a cool, comforting combination of pastels: pale, angelic, tinted with love, laughter, laws. Pathways lead through the golden corn that covers the lower part of the egg. Which side will it lead you to?
Minions of the Moon Egg
Darkened hues of navy and violet obscure details from the distant viewer. With closer inspection, one might be able to pick out distinct shapes along the egg's shell, hints of sinister scenes. Here, a gloved hand seems to reach out of the shadows. There, a leather bag spills open, about to spew its contents across the sands. Yet with a step to either side, the images fade, retreating back to their shadows.
Sweet as Honey Egg
This egg is the dream of love, and warmth, and laughter: the subtle glow of honeyed amber, thick with promise, fills this unlikely chalice; hope, the candle-flame of life flickers within the heart; joy dapples the apex with the cool rays of early morning light; passion, the sweet innocence of spring giving way to the first flush of summer's youth, is cloudy whorls of strawberry settling into the rotund base and deepening the tawny brew to dusky rose.
To Feed the Hunger Egg
A conflagration of color consumes the shell of this small egg, the epitome of excess wrought in a panoply of garish shades that makes a flight of proddy greenriders seem tame. Reality blurs as paradigm shifts and ghastly figures take shape within the charred confines that delineate a slender circumference, the horror of life beyond held in check only by this frightening homage to tastelessness.

The remaining 4 NPC eggs:

A Grand Day Out Egg
Cheddar-cheesy yellow is this egg's distinction, darker spots appearing almost crater-like against the dull golden matte of the shell's surface. Overall, it is a fairly unremarkable egg, save for a picnic-blanket red lattice faded against the top and - if one looks closely - the outline of a metallic jumble near the bottom strangely reminiscent of an oven on skis.
Moon After Yule Egg
A landscape of cold desolation, nothing as clear as snow defines this egg's shell. The smooth reflection of some of its brothers is not for it: it is a vision of old ice, cracked and pitted with dirt. It seems somehow antique, ancient, a relic left from some earlier clutch and forgotten to hulk against the sands like a rock, a lone wolf among its brothers. It is as patient as time itself, and as chill.
Chill of Winter Moon Egg
So forbidding, so cold, this egg, yet so full of potential. A chill canvas of bitter white, bleak in its dearth of color, whereupon the glitter of frozen starlight lies captured. Ancient wisdom spawns from sterile-seeming soil, craggy boles twisting promise into the grounded curve; a network of bare limbs etched in black span the stark circumference in quiet supplication, awaiting the judgment of the ages and the turning of a sphere.
Moon When Trees Pop Egg
Amid the bleak greys and eye-searing whites covering most of this smaller egg's shell, vertical lines of deep browns appear in scattered clusters. Closer examination will show fine lines of glassy silver edging their way through much of the brown. Some are so thick they seem to make the brown expand, threatening to prematurely end the little egg's existence.
Crying For the Moon Egg
Dim shades of graying colors swirl in a hazy sunset tableau. Washed-out crimson covers the base and spirals upwards in uneven lines, fading by degrees to the murky blue steel of dusk. It is neither clear-cut as a winter's horizon nor simply dimmed age. The egg's patterns are inconsistent as if seen through dust-coated, ancient glass. Near the egg's darkening crown, a clouded grey circle emerges, its shape more implied than described.

Come Reap Harvest Moon Egg shifts where it sits set apart, mucking up the relative smoothness of the surrounding sand.

Beast of Gevaudan Egg rocks sulkily. Just ten more minutes, ma, pleeease?

Alternately nervous, excited, and blase, the candidates come onto the sands behind Cr'ash, a sea of white robes bobbing against the hot sands. Though their eyes flicker to the eggs, to the stands - a few hands lift to wave at familiar faces - they proceed mainly towards the clutchparents. Coming to a shuffling halt, they bow as one towards Cadgwith and Ghraith, gold and bronze guardians of the clutch.

Pyrene inclines her head in acceptance of the bow. "I give them a 9," she murmurs as an aside to J'lal. "Synchronisation was pretty damned good."

Cadgwith hums with furious pride, snorting joyfully at her eggs and the candidates. Good thing she's not sick.

The head of the column breaks apart - Cr'ash toward the rest of the assistant weyrlingmasters on the edges of the Sands, Siannen toward Pyrene and J'lal with a large and sweating waterbladder and two tall glasses. These are delivered, and then she disappears again.

Beast of Gevaudan Egg scatters sand with an emphatic shake, easing itself from the divot in the sand where it lurks. As telltale cracks chase their way across its shadowy shape, it struggles against inevitable destruction, writhing and bucking in place. Finally, it stills, mere moments before a foot pops from its confines, then another, a snout, a tail, which eventually solidify into a rather solid dragon: Not Leo Enough Brown Dragonet.

Not Leo Enough Brown Dragonet
Ruggedly rotund is the best descriptor for this shadow-cast brown: raw power coils beneath a meaty physique, a short neck and limbs and a long torso emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders and haunches. The bitter orange of burnt sienna ripples across the sepia gloom of his broad figure in brindled waves. Lightening against the stretch of a small paunch and the underside of his long but solid tail, sienna turns to charcoal-striped umber in the spars and sails of his expansive wings. His large, round head features a blunt muzzle, tiny headknobs and a face of wide planes and prominent curves in cheek and brow. His paws, dainty in comparison, are tipped with ebony.

Sweet as Honey Egg rocks anxiously, with an almost rhythmic sway.

Khalylai rises from her bow with a look of uncertainty - perhaps for the first time since being at the Reaches. Nissa's hand clutched tight, the young woman flashes a beam to Micail and Cameron - and those others directly in her near proximity. "We're here," she announces. (Well… duh.) Is it any surprise that 'here' is none-too-comfortable? The young woman's dancing already on bare toes. Second degree burns, here we come… "One already?" she exclaims, eyebrows arching reflexively.

I'anex trails in late, taking position by other weylingmaster types and straightening his shoulders promptly. His eyes flick toward the first dragonet, marking.

Cameron is certainly nervous, all legs and arms and those legs nothing but gelatin really. Is the poor boy going to faint? It would be fitting. The baby of the candidates. He swallows nervously and looks around, almost helplessly. Oh look. A dragon. Help?

Cheyanna, for her part, is wary more than edgy, with a subdued caution directed towards the eggs piled up. And just in time: as the first shatters, the guard-candidate jumps and skitters back a step, into Meerak.

Jillriel grips Cailyn's hand with sooome force. Oops. Too tight. Releasing the hand, the brown dragonet is then eyed her heart /thumps/. "Cailyn!" is squeeked as her hand is grabbed once again.

"Hmm?" J'lal asks, having missed the statement as he watches the candidates, mulling over the possibilities and the marks he has placed thereupon. "Yes. Very nice." At least his dragon was paying attention.

Meerak straightens up out of the bow with a certain alacrity: the better to shuffle his feet, toeing barefoot at the sand with a quick shuffle. "It's not so bad," he says of the heat, for all that he is quick not to settle too long on either foot - and then an egg cracks. He startles with an unmanly yelp, bumping into Cheyanna in turn. He gives her a sheepish look.

Iliad won't hold any hands. He's too manly for that, or something. Or maybe it's because he's too busy scrubbing at the back of his neck with one hand while the other clutches the cloth of his robe. Nervous much? You might say.

Nissa lets Khalylai lead her to wherever is appropriate; at least there are plenty of candidates around them. She too shuffles on the sand, her bare feet warming uncomfortably. "I wish I'd found my sandals…" she moans again, and then gives a little jump as the brown breaks shell. "Oooh!"

"Shards, these dragons aren't wasting any time," is murmured to Jillriel. "Ow. Be gentle," Cailyn scolds, loosening her grip on the her buddy. "Just breathe, okay? Keep breathing." If only Cailyn could follow her own advice.

Xayna follows the people in front of her onto the sands and after the bow follows them to make the usual semi-circle around the edge. Her right hand reaches out and grabs Stitch, grabbing it tightly. She gives him a grin and then reaches out to her left, ending up grabbing Lairae's hand. A smile is given to her as well, before the beast egg hatches. /Her/ egg. Well, it isn't anymore. A look over the brown gets a soft ooo from her, and she shuffles her feet from the heat.

Micail is indeed shuffly. He doesn't really have anything to do with his hands like some of the others, but he moves along anyway. Where to? Somewhere near Airam. Airam seems like a safe person to stand with. Gack! They didn't even get a chance to breathe before one campe popping out of there!

Jaryyd raises from his bow to see a brown emerge from an egg and he stares transfixed. Thoughts whirl around in his head and it's eveident in his stare that not all the glows are open upstairs. He does jump back though, as if afraid to get trampled by the little beasty.

Airam sucks in a deep breath during his rise from a bow as he looks around the sands and up into the galleries. Okay, time of truth. Oh yes, he's nervous. And when did his heart beat get so loud? He steps back half a foot as the first egg hatches and watches the baby dragon warily.

To Feed the Hunger Egg rocks, its motion erratic and unpredictable.

Lairae fidgets desperately with her hands when she rises from the bow, but manages to stand still once she's found a spot. Mostly still. She shifts onto the balls of her feet, very cleary ready to move quickly out of the way. She jumps when her hand is grabbed, but manages a wan smile for Xayna. She looks uncomfortable at being tied down to two people, but doesn't pull free.

Cheyanna whirls to stare at Meerak as contact is made, letting a solid two seconds tick by before recognition settles into place for her. "Sorry," she says belatedly. "I - sorry." She turns to glance back at the eggs, specifically the rocking Hunger Egg. "Oh, Faranth," she says. "/That/ one's starting."

Stitch looks toward NIssa and whispers "Ye can take mine." he says, slipping them off with one hand as the other is siezed by Xayna. Offering them toward her or to the next person to pass down, he lightly steps from foot to foot, the perspiration on the bottoms of his feet making the hot sand cling.

Not Leo Enough Brown Dragonet stretches, blinking with puzzled interest at the surroundings and just scrunching his belly on the Sands to get a feel for this new world. Warm and scratchy… It'll do. He pauses for a long moment, forelegs out and butt in the air, apparently poised for a rush. And then he gets up and plods unhurriedly towards the White Line of Intrigue.

Jillriel breathes as her buddy tells her to. "Yeah, that helps." Cailyn is then eyed as she inches a teensy bit closer. "Handsome brown, eh?"

Khalylai is enough to unman Iliad, you see. She lunges for his hand, attempting to snag it. "Iliad, you have to protect us," she announces, angling herself slightly behind the guard-candidate. She flashes Nissa a bright, bright beam. "This is outrageous." They're starting - already! She dismisses the brown, eyeballing the other eggs cautiously.

Dark Side of the Moon Egg rotates just an aota and then stops.

Ryan brings his torso up from the bow, blinking. Attention is focused on the eggs and - -oh look, one hatched already. Gulping, it's plain he's nervous, but everyone else is too. Turning his head to whoever may be next to him in the semi-circle of candidates, he offers a weak grin.

Meerak dips his shoulders, apology accepted quick enough. "Yeah, sure," he says, words pitter-pattering in a nervous rush of syllables as he settles next to Cheyanna. "Whatever." He follows her gaze with a wary turn of his head, eyes widening. He backs away. "Bet you that one comes bursting out and claws someone. Half a mark. Well - quarter mark."

Lairae's nails are probably digging into Xayna's palm as she focuses on the rocking Hunger egg. "Got to be careful of that one," she mutters under her breath. To who, it's hard to tell.

Xayna takes in a deep breath as the first hatchling comes towards them, unvoluntarily taking a step back. Quickly she steps back in line and takes her eyes off the brown only long enough to look around at the others and the eggs. "Good luck Stitch, Lairae." Her voice is like a squeaky mouse in her nervousness.

Come Reap Harvest Moon Egg rocks and jerks, its gold-hued shell shivering tremorously.

Uh-oh.. Here it comes. Jar stares at the little brown, hoping that if it charged, it didn't charge his way. Unless it intended to pick him…which he thought doubtfull… and plausible at the same time. "WOw,…" he whispers, edging towards some of the other candidates.

Iliad's hand is grabbed. Lovely. But Khaly's hand is not released once contact is made. If anything, he squeezes it while chewing on his tongue through his teeth. "If one tries to maul me, I'm /so/ sacrificing you, by the way." Surely Iliad can pick her up enough to throw her in the way, right?

Micail chews on his bottom lip a little bit. Feet shift then, and he moves, looking at the moving eggs before his gaze turns right back around to that roaming brown. The boy is tense, really, after all those lovely lessons about how to avoid dragon-maulings. Duck? Run?

"Very handsome." The line of fellow candidates is eyed, with Cailyn mentally trying to figure out who he'll go to. There are too many eggs moving at once, so her eyes are constantly jerking around, nervous little twitches.

Nissa lets go of Khalylai's hand in order to grab at Stitch's shoes. They're a bit big for her, but by balancing precariously on one heated foot in turn, she manages to slip them on. "Thank you, thank you very much," she hisses to the harper-candidate, then glances rather guiltily at Khalylai's still bare feet before taking the other girl's hand again.

Airam turns from the dragon to eye the other candidates and their reactions, and then back to the brown again as it moves. "This was faster than I thought it would be." He comments to the other candidates closest to him. He offers a smile to Meerak but doesn't wait to see if the other boy got it. He moves foward just a little bit to get a better view, but still stays far back.

Cameron takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. Getting his equilibrium back as he watches the dragon and then others eggs that rock. He moves in closer to Micail "Hope you got that nap in earlier. Too late now. Even moreso if you Impress."

"Eight," Cheyanna counters. "I'm going to lose too much money today anyway." She follows Meerak back a step or two, cautiously. "Uh, if it charges us, you don't mind me flinging you in front of me, right?" she says. She looks back to the brown now, wary and ready to dive out of the way.

Sweet as Honey Egg quakes nervously.

Khalylai is now ensconced between two, and that comforts her. She squeezes Iliad's hand, regardless of the fact that he carries the deadly cootilus naturalis virus. "Nissa, you suck," she states, but her voice is surprisingly cheerful. And feet dance! "You just -try- sacrificing me, Iliad. I could so take you."

Not Leo Enough Brown Dragonet wriggles his shoulders, getting into the feel of this walking thing - if it wasn't for those durned wings flopping all over the place. Patiently he continues forward until he reaches the first few candidates. One paw snakes out experimentally, lashing at a nearby lad, claws unsheathed. Fortunately, the lad dances out of the way in time. The brown has already moved on, sniffing and snorting and occasionally squawking as he heads determinedly down the line.

Meerak gives Cheyanna a /betrayed/ look. "You're the guard! You should be flinging yourself in front of it. Protecting people, like," he says expansively, gesturing with a nervous twitch to edge out the wave of hands, a wave that turns to a salute aimed in Airam's direction, smile caught and returned, if with a slightly puzzled frown.

Stitch gives Xayna's hand a comforting squeeze, even though the palms of his small hands are sweaty and clamy. "Should have brought some rolls…coulda kept em warm with melted butter…" Stitch tries to keep his mind off his absolute terror by thinking of food.

Dark Side of the Moon Egg casts aside its cloak of mystery, revealing the majestic mountains and steep crevasses that pock a surface heretofore hidden beneath the sand. This marvel is not long to last, however, as a myriad of cracks begin to mar its surface, sending flecks of shell scattering to the floor. Finally, with one last shudder, shell gives way, disintegrating, to reveal a hardly mysterious, but no less majestic I'm Too Sexy Pavo Bronze Dragonet.

I'm Too Sexy Pavo Bronze Dragonet
The virescent shimmer of honeyed gold hints in verdant copper lend a certain royal allure to this bronze. Elegance delineates the slender musculature of long limbs and frame, from the perfect posture in the proud arch of his neck and shoulders to the whip-flick of his tail. A charmer's face has he, the intimation of an inviting smile in the dark mask of hooded eyes, his mouth curling at the corners of a blunt, broad muzzle. His true glory, however, lies in the expanse of his wings and the hypnotic scintillation of color found within his sails.

Jaryyd steels himself. He'd get nowere in this hatching by running away, if he must get clawed, or trampled, then so be it. He stands his ground and watches as the dragonette nearly misses a lad with his claws. Jar whistles at the close encounter and looks over to Micail. "Bit vicious isn't he?"

"You can have them if I Impress," Nissa tells Khalylai, although she sounds very unsure of the whole idea as that brown comes around. She glances around Khaly to Iliad as the bronze hatches, looking rather hopeful.

"Shut up," Lairae says in Stitch's direction, lashing out without thinking in her nervousness. She noticed that brown's swipe, and her hand spasms in Xayna's again, as she considers whether to disentangle herself.

Micail makes a noise as one of those paws go striking for candie-feet. That's..not a good sign. "Watch your legs.." He offers to those around him, if somewhat quietly. Maybe it won't be too much help. But Jaryyd does get a quick nod as he's spoken to. "Yeah..yeah he-oh! Another one."

Airam moves a short distance across the ground to Micail and Cameron's side, managing to keep his eyes both on the newly hatched brown and his target. He leans foward and asks, "You scared?" Airam is, not that he'd admit it, and not that it's too hard to figure by yourself. He turns to look at the now hatched bronze, "Wow."

Ryan inhales deeply, eyes looking to the wandering dragonet for a moment before looking at the others around him to see hwo they're fairing. Gulp. Another's hatched. Eyes stay on that one for a moment to before he looks down, silently. Feet scuff against the sand, but he doesn't stir enough of it for anyone to complain.

"Guards learn how to use distraction techniques!" Cheyanna replies. "Any tool at your disposal, right?" She shifts again, back out of the way of the brown's approach. As the next egg shatters, she wrenches her eyes over. "Bronze!" she says. "That's one. One more and I'm up a quarter mark!" Her feet move lightly on the sands, bare and burning.

Khalylai grins to Nissa. "Okay." She does make a noise at the new dragonet, however. "Er.. he looks, ah, girly." A critical look. "Vain. Ah - what's the word I'm looking for?" Beat. "Narcissitc."

Jillriel nods toward the newly hatched bronze dragonet. "Hey, look over there." Feeling a bit more confident now, Cailyn's hand is released for the moment while she stares at the hatchlings. Eee.

Iliad disregards what Khaly has to say as a finger waggles in the direction of the bronze. "Look! Looklooklook!" Whatever anxiety he might've had is replaced with anxiousness. "Gotta be mine, gotta be mine." If he chants this, it'll come true, right?

Xayna winces as Lairae's nails dig into her palm but she takes a deep breath and bears it. Another breath is taken as the brown takes a swipe at a boy. She squeezes both hands, but lets go of Lairae's. The pain is getting to her, that and she needs the extra movement so she can continue to shuffle her feet. "Hot sand…" Sand got into her sandal and now she tries desperately to kick it out.

Stitch emits a pfffft. "Just tryin t'keep my thoughts on something pleasant, otherwise I'm gonna start runnin round like a crazed wherry."

Jaryyd snaps his head round when the next hatchling errupts and is awed by the bronze. He's definately letting himself get swept away by the feelings and emotions running through him. And right now they are simply all in awe. The sweat on his brow thickens, but he seems not to notice at all.

Cameron eyes the newest hatchling and blinks "Wow." he admits quietly "Yeah, I'm kinda scared. They look big, even this little." he murmurs "But that one just looks. I dunno. He's just weird."

Meerak's gaze skips over to the latest, following Cheyanna's call. He wrinkles his nose, bare feet shuffling a tapping dance over the hot sands. "I forgot to put down any bets on what would hatch," he says, admitting to disappointment with terrible sadness. He watches back and forth, gaze skittering here and there. He curses under his breath. "This isn't anything at all like when we pretended to be dragons and hatched!"

As yet another dragon breaks out of its shell, Cailyn's eyes flicker between the two dragons, making sure to know where they are at all times. Perhaps that demonstration wasn't such a bad thing afterall. With Jillriel no longer attached, Cate takes up wringing her hands to try and relieve the inner stress.

I'm Too Sexy Pavo Bronze Dragonet shakes the gooey remains of shell from his figure, annoyed disdain apparent in the set of his shoulders. Finally immaculate, he poses, as any good bronze should, his predatory gaze sweeping the line of white, dismissing the vast majority in the first instant.

Micail throws a look up at Airam quickly, eyes again darting toward the dragonets. "Y..yeah. A bit - a lot. /Yes./" Gah. Fingers drop to grab at his robe a little bit. It helps with those sweaty palms and all.

I'anex humphs back in his throat at the bronze's arrival. "It's a /pretty/ one," he says with a certain removed disdain that can only be his (duller) dragon's influence.

Nissa looks the bronze over again, and then at Iliad. "He's very handsome," she comments, although of course that could be taken any which way. "It /could/ be yours, Iliad…"

"I, uh, put an eighth of a mark on someone dying," Cheyanna confesses, her voice very low. "It occurs to me now that might have been… a bad idea. Ill-wishing." She adds, "I've got a mark down on stuff, all told."

Khalylai makes a disparagate noise as to Iliad impressing pretty-boy bronze. "Somehow, I just think that would be an overload of vainglory." Her smile to Iliad, however, is joking.

Jillriel can't make up her mind - to hold hands, or not to hold hands? With that in mind, Cailyn's arm is grabbed as the bronze ambles closer. "How often do candidates get.. mauled?" Scared? Perhaps. Just at that thought. Cough.

Airam shivers a little before forcing his fear down and taking several deep breaths. His own sweaty palms are already burried deep in his white robes, twisting the thick fabric harshly. "Don't be," He says to Micail and Cam, eyes still focused on the dragonets, "Just, if they rush us…move." This is more for his own benefit then theirs.

Jaryyd laughs when he hears Nissa's comment and looks over at the girl. "One that pretty is going to be vain, as well it should be!" He smiles and turns back to watch brown and bronze sniff our their lifemates. Secretely he hopes one of them picks him, but he doesn't voice that hope. Best not to jynx himself.

The bronze hatching catches Xayna's attention for a moment, but the hot sand in her sandal is more important right now. Another moment and she ends up taking it off to shake it out, putting her sandal back on quickly. Stitch's hand is dropped as she does this so as to better balance. Once on her two feet again, she looks up to see the bronze posing and then her eyes return to the brown.

Not Leo Enough Brown Dragonet follows his nose and the stench of sweat to reach one particular girl. The candidates to either side of her are ignored as he stares instead with great curiosity at her foot, which is kicking so enticingly. A little wriggle of his brindled rump, and he pounces forward, clamping both forepaws down on it. He scratches himself with his eagerness and in confusion, blinks up at Xayna. Need a little help here.

Meerak gives that a laugh all out of proportion to the actual humor of the situation. "On someone dying. You should've just put it on someone getting hurt. Did you see that brown - " His chin jerks, indicating the first. " - nearly take a swipe out of someone? And he's just the first! I should've taken the time to find my sandals, then I could've gone and dodge faster. Feet seem to stick and sink all barefoot."

Not Leo Enough Brown Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Xayna, and steps forward.

Stitch puffs his cheeks. "It might be me. I never thought of being short as a disadvantage till I realised how hot it is so close to the ground…" he shifts one shoulder up to wipe his forehead, his long wavy curls soaked and sticking to the sides of his neck. "Oh goodness! Xayna!" he's either glad she impressed or glad she let go of his hand so he can wipe it on his robe. A sort of chittery laugh escapes his throat. "COngratulations! Don't forget to write!"

Cameron coughs a little "Move, yeah. Good idea. And hope that predatory instints don't kick in and they chase us?" His eyes watch the dragons and the he blinks. Oh my. "Xayna impressed." He swallows. Now he's even more nervous about Impressing.

"Could be, should be - " Iliad pauses, licking his lips. And to Khaly, he just pokes his tongue out. "Wouldn't you like that?" She might just die from the overdose. "Well hey!" he then hollars out, chin-nodding towards Xayna before using entwined hand to point. "Look! Xayna! Sweet! And she's alive!" Which is always a good thing.

"If you don't stop, I'm going to maul /you/," is Cailyn's reply to Jillriel, eyes narrowing in on her buddy. Her fingers work to release the death grasp Jillriel has on her in favor of a looser one. As Xayna gets the brown, Cailyn lets out a cheer. "Good job!"

"Xayna, Xayna!" Nissa squeals, bobbing up and down - still on the end of Khaly's arm - as she gestures with her free hand towards the newly impressed woman. "Xayna!"

If Xayna doesn't think to drop it, Lairae pulls her hand away. "Congratulations," she says softly, and shifts back to her balls of the feet ready to move stance a little farther away.

Micail eyes Airam for a moment. "I'd planned on it. I don't..really want to get trampled or some such thing." And..where'd that brown go? Oh! There. "Xayna!"

I'anex leaves off staring after the bronze with mild (mild) dislike to run his eyes back over to the first, the brown. "There we go. Excellent, Xayna!"

Jillriel chin-nods toward Xayna and the brown hatchling. "Ooh! Look!" Side stepping to regain some of her balance, her grip on her buddy's arm is loosened tremendously. There.

Khalylai points, sorta, with the hand that's grasping Iliad's. He had the idea before her. "Xayna!" It's more a squeak, and less a dignified statement. "I would just -love- that," she drawls toIliad. "I always saw her on brown," she states, with the satisfied tone of a bet won.

"I think they're too busy for a chase. Matter of fact, if we were chased it'd probably mean we Impressed them." Airam watches as the brown approaches Xayna and casts a wide smile at the girl who drug him to her flit hatching. He's glad for her.

Xayna acks as in putting her foot down the brown hatchling pounces out at it. A look down at him as he looks up at her. A moment passes and then a tear falls down one cheek.
"Luileeuth… Yes Luileeuth, we'll go get that milk and meat." She helps him to his feet, running her hands gently over his head before giving a smile to Stitch and the others. Slowly she walks with him towards the entrance where those that can help await.

Meerak flinches, closing an eye as the brown dragon pounces at Xayna. He squints with the other to see if she's dead - and finding her not only allive, but calling out an long ol' name and getting lots of congratulations, he exhales. "I thought you just won your bet," he admits to Cheyanna.

To Feed the Hunger Egg splits down the middle, the ghastly horrors emblazoned in pattern over its shell cracking and shattering into nothing but shards. Leaping from the wreck of her eerie prison, the Squeeful Dolphin Green Dragonet shakes out her egg-wet wings and stumbles on her very first step.

Squeeful Dolphin Green Dragonet
Oh, the glory of her silver-green hide, sleek and shining over a dancer's long-limbed frame. Teal's capricious splash crashes pell-mell against rounded headknobs and along her neck's delphine arch. Ever-widening, ever-changing, ripples of that bright-dark hue spread in playfully undulating patterns across pale haunches and down the slender sweep of her tail. Wings' spread is elegant and evenly proportioned, shimmering green touched in moonlight and struck with occasional hints of starshine.

"No one was taking bets on getting hurt," Cheyanna mutters in reply. "Someone bet on /five/ deaths. That's awful!" As the brown closes in on Xayna, Cheyanna starts forward, clearly certain for an instant that the candidate is getting mauled. "Xay - ! Oh. Xayna! Xayna!" Horror is transformed to delight, and she claps.

Come Reap Harvest Moon Egg quakes with a jolt bearing near enough force to tip itself over, but pendulums back nominally upright.

Ryan moves to peer over at Xayna, a bit wide-eyed. "Congratualtions!" is called over from his place. Moving gaze back to the sand, they still manage to trail after the new pair as they move off to the side.

I'm Too Sexy Pavo Bronze Dragonet is pretty, isn't he? He stretches the impressive span of his wings, still damp from his confinement in all that goo, then sets off to greet his adoring fans, head held high, a strut in his step.

"GO XAYNA!" is shouted by Jaryyd as he keeps one eye on the bronze…just in case. He fidgits a little, first by clasping and unclasping his hands and second by swinging his arms back and forth. But he's stopped by the emergance of the green. His nose wrinkles a little and an audible groan is soon muffled. He was hoping for more dragonettes of the shiny variety.

Crying for the Moon Egg trembles lightly, just testing out the idea of movement.

Micail has attention diverted again. Really, so much is /happening/ at once. Another egg splits, and he turns to look, watching the green before he gives another quick look toward the approaching bronze. He does, however, inch himself a little bit closer to Airam. "They're coming out /everywhere/."

Pyrene looks hugely approving at the first impression. "Xayna! She did it!" She beams proudly at J'lal. "I asked her to Stand, you know. A lovely brown, too. I expect good things of them." Pyrene is nothing if not unbiased.

"Wow. This is really going by fast." Nevermind that only one candidate's impressed so far, at least that Iliad's taken observance of. "Where'd the bronze go?" Eyes quickly glance in either direction, a glimmer of green catching his sight before he once against uses entwined fingers to point towards the newest hatched. "Look. A green, too." If Khaly hasn't noticed it for herself.

Nissa looks after Xayna. "Leel… Lilee…" She gives up, and shrugs. "He's a nice brown," she does say approvingly before catching sight of the green and giving a little excited shiver. "She's pretty, Khalylai… do you think she'd like you?"

"Ooooh, a green." Cailyn points her buddy towards the dragon, grinning in delight. "Finally a female. I'd laugh if it went to a guy, since the first male went to a girl." Irony is funny.

Meerak happy-feets edgily, kicking off top layers of sand in an attempt to find cooler sand beneath. "Five deaths. That seems like a lot, right? I mean - right? It is? So there were bad odds, weren't there? How many people /usually/ die?" he asks Cheyanna, eying the green like she's a killer.

"Congratulations!" And I'anex is now speaking to Xayna more directly as he waves her over. "To the side, to the side. Everything great? Of course it is," I'anex rattles off cheerfully. A green to watch, now.

Cameron stares at the green as she hatches and the Weyrwomans words come back to him. He shakes his head a little. She would know. Wouldn't she? He gulps and watches. Absently shifting feet as the heat comes through the sands. "She's kinda pretty though."

Khalylai dances on burnt toes. "She's pretty," she remarks of the newest green, gaze studying the pale sweeps of hide. "She reminds me of water," is replied to Nissa, and also to Iliad. Speaking of Iliad - "Yes, where -did- that bronze go?" Neck cranes, here and there, keeping a careful eye on the newest green.

"None," Cheyanna says. "Well, usually." She shifts her weight forward and back, remaining on guard. "But these are evil, right? I mean… you never know. Better to stay… alert. Ready for anything."

Squeeful Dolphin Green Dragonet stumbles, /fumbles/, then catches herself with out-thrown wings, flinging goo in a wide and splattery arc as she regains her balance. A joyful bugle sounds, then transmutes itself into a creel of hunger and dismay. She sets her head down, tucks her wings in, and begins her search with another faltering step.

Xayna smiles at I'anex as he waves her over and can only nod, babbling on something insensibly. "Yes, food. We'll get food and then a nap." She'll definately need a nap after this.

Jillriel looks in the direction that she's pointed it. "Ooh, green. Very nice and, yeah, that'd be funny." Grin. "She's awful shiny, huh?"

Now that the Hunger egg has hatched, Lairae's eyes end up glued to the green that emerges. She draws in a ragged breath and jumps when the dragon moves, but a frown settles into her expression. It doesn't seem to be acting evilly. Belatedly, she remembers to track the bronze also.

Em-Oh-Oh-En Egg wiggles and rolls around a bit, then stops. Patience is a virtue.

"I noticed." Airam answers Micail dryly, eyes now focused on the pretty green. "I'm glad Xayna Impressed, she's nice." If anyone asks later, he didn't say that. He winces as the green calls out and starts to move half a step backawrds again before forcing himself to stay put.

"Green." Ryan says to no one in particular. Just talking for the sake of talking.

Cadgwith gives a low foghorn call to the green, appreciating the splatter of goo. It's good when the kids know how to make an entrance.

Come Reap Harvest Moon Egg begins to rock more forcefully, spraying sand.

Jaryyd can't help but laugh at the green's antics. "Look at how cute she is!" he bellows, as a father would bellow over a first of his daughter's. He looks around and catches Airam's last comment. "Aye, Xayna deserved it. She'll make a good rider!"

"Shiny, yes, but possibly evil. That was the /evil/ egg. Don't look at it. Maybe if we don't look at it, it won't come over here." Wishful thinking, perhaps, but Cailyn focuses her attention on the other rocking eggs, the grasp on Jillriel becoming tighter.

"Hey, they don't seem that bad once they're out of the eggs, huh?" Knock on wood. If only there were some around. Micail? - oh, he's just looked at. Ah hah. "Watch him impress the bronze," Iliad asides to Khaly, giving anothing chin nod, but this time in the younger man's direction.

Stitch hops from foot to foot, making an awful face as he feels his legs sweating, pretty much feeling as though he were melting. "Augh…aye, she is a cute little lass…I hope she's nicer outside the egg than she was inside. Then again, if I were trapped inside and egg and people were touching me, I might be inclined to be a bit grumpy too."

Part 2

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