High Reaches' 17th Hatching (Part 2)

Chey's gold Mynwiyath x T'ii's bronze Bandeleth and Frusha's gold Griellitath x Bandeleth
April 9th 2008
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Part 1

Winston goes from chatting at Mohitani's destracted side to staring at Mohitani in open mouthed shock. The dragonets are actually forgotten for a moment. Who cares about a little mauling by a dragonet when there's a high probability of a Weyrwoman having a coronary in the middle of the hatching. After a moment of just staring at Mohitani, he slowly turns to face in Frusha's direction, mouth still agape.

Even Loren must stop and turn to stare at Mohitani, though she has paid no attention to her fellow candidates and all her attention to the worrisome dragons. Her jaw drops a little and she stares gape-mouthed, like everyone else. The twisting away of her body pulls at Dredos' arm encouraging his attention, even if Loren hasn't actively sought it.

Dredos turns to watch Mohitani with fascinated surprise, only turning away from the sing-song in time to catch… a scary brown dragonet poking at Onberlie's midsection. "Hey!" he calls over, frowning. "Leave her alone!" Pause. "Oh. Dang." Dre glances at Loren, turns a couple shades darker via a deep blush, and switches feet. He'll just… go back to waiting, ready to turn on a dime. Or a mark, that is.

WELL. There is a look on that poor woman's face - the only poor woman, obviously, since she is the one being spoken poorly of, and that's all that matters! She almost looks like she's about to charge forth onto the Sands, but, Griellitath's head turns and a soft noise is emitted; so, Frusha merely stands there, next to Chey, her eyes thinning and fists clenching. Grrrrr.

Mohitani apparently isn't done - no, there's more to come! Gleefully aware of the horrified looks being sent her way, she straightens, totally missing Onberlie's Impression to a brown as she continues on:

There once was a frilly, pink board
That held silly rules like a hoard.
No pom-poms, no snowmen
Don't drink or curse then
Lest her actions to you grow untoward.

Tanis removes her hand from Onberlie's and takes couple quick steps backward. Once far enough back, and seeing that the brown has stopped next to the girl, she slowly takes the steps back again. "Congratulations Beri!" There is a true smile on her face. It is true that dragonriding appears to run in families. Now though, she stands on tip toe and tries to find out where the other dragonets have gone, and then look around to see which of the candidates are left.

Nulerak looks about ready to have a heart attack due to the -things- that Mohitani is saying - and to the fat woman with a gold dragon that's Big and has Teeth, no less. "MO. MOOOOOO." His attempts to draw her attention back over to where it should be most likely fail, and the candidate works his jaw nervously, casting furtive glances around the sands. Just making sure there's no rampaging dragonets. Onberlie's Impression is noticed on one of these scans and he pipes up with, "Congratulations Onberlie!"

Onberlie blinks in surprise at Tanis's hand squeezing leaning. Dude! When did this happen. The young girl's brow really furrows now as she looks uncomfortably at the woman hanging on her. She's so distracted by this sudden attachment she doesn't notice the brown till he pecks at her. "Ow." The girl bends in half and yanks her hand away from Tanis turning shining eyes on the little brown. "Hi, Najmaldith."

Celestial Tranquility Egg gives way to building pressure without ever losing its cool. What was once a seamless landscape is now riddled with a network of cracks that seem to breathe with every relentless wave-out, then in, then out again. The cracks become fissures, the fissures become holes, opening onto a world of cold depths, shadowed and uncertain; something lurks therein. The crumbling facade falls away, resolving into a coiled figure: glistening, dangerous, blue.

Wind-Up Bathtub Toy Shark Blue Dragonet
Shifting tides of light and hue play across the hide of this weathered voyager, pouring life into the dim, cold blue of the depths. Shades of green and turquoise streak his low-slung torso, and flecks of brighter colors: a dappling of gold and silver glitters across his wide back. His wings are lighter in color, crested with a line of white along each bone spar. Long-tailed and long-necked, he stares down from an awkward height for his short legs, and from features crafted for an ancient and less refined time: his face is flat and broad, his eyes set too high in his head for elegance. Still, there is intelligence in them, an ancient wisdom as changeable and changeless as time itself.

"Mohitaniiiii," the little Weyrleader growls, shifting away from his stance against proud-poppa Bandeleth. He looks to Chey, though - though. Bandeleth's attention focuses on Frusha.

Chey turns to stare at Frusha for a moment, then wets her lips. Crap. Crap crap crap. She reaches out to touch the woman's arm, and shakes her head. Is she going to say something?

Mohitani is going to get it, for sure, when all is said and done. But at the moment, she doesn't look like she cares a bit, fists clenching as she begins to hit her stride. See, Frusha's had it coming to her. For a very, very long time, apparently. Let's hope Tye's not yet started paying attention.

Our tale has not yet come to an end -
This woman still refuses to bend!
She's a pathetic excuse
No wonder she's a recluse
Who has not even a single friend!

Winston clearly thought the one verse, the first limerick was all there was, but no, there is more. When she launches into her second verse, Winston is jolted out of his slack-jawed stupor. "Oh, for Faranth's sake, Mo, stop now," he mutters at her, looking pained. He takes a step away, just in case Griellitath is actually going to crush Mohitani. Or Frusha. Only then does he glance around at realize that Onberlie has Impressed. "Oh, Beri, great! Good job!" But the congratulations is decidedly distracted.

Valorous Veneer for a Child's Venture Bronze Dragonet is getting the hang of this! It feels quite natural; but still, that pivotal part of his plan is missing… It must be found! The slow swagger that seems almost practiced guides the small bronze towards the crowd, and he seems rather interested with it's contents… But also, his wings! Why, they seem to move so well when he does… What are they for? The ambered sails pull close to him, and he begins to walk faster, gliding mysteriously, like a prowling feline, towards the group.

Wind-Up Bathtub Toy Shark Blue Dragonet rises from the muck of his egg, long neck lifting to stare around the sands. His eyes are whirling, but he does not immediately begin to walk. He needs to find… balance. And something more. He lifts his head to stare up, up, toward the sky. No. No. His eyes drop again. Where?

Frusha begins to boil. Oh yes. If blood could bubble and froth, Frusha would be more red than just on her face; but obviously, there's more to it than that. Mohitani gets the crown jewel of stares as, with a soft hiss, she turns towards Chey and warbles. "Is /this/ the sort of rubbish that you bring in for /my/ eggs?"

Chey cannot speak: she has been interrupted by another recitation. "TYE," she bellows. "Get her /off/ the sands. /Now/.

Dredos makes a small sort of growl deep in his throat. Maybe he's just dying of thirst. Or waiting for Mohitani to get tossed off the sands, therefore bettering his own odds. He's not trying to shut her up, at any rate. "Should we spread out a little more?" he asks Loren. Newbie Dre.

Shazi's jaw drops at the candidate's audacity. She may have composed some limericks of her own, but yeesh. She didn't shout them at the fat one's *face*. "Mo. No! Mo!" Too late. Far too late. She looks to Frusha, and T'ii, Tye and Chey for some sign of what to do, even as she steps out onto the sands to usher newly Impressed to the side and out of the fray.

Palia just sort of bobs strangely. "Um. Um." Her hands rub together. "I didn't Search her! Nope! I so didn't! Not at all!" Whistle.

As Chey calls for Tye, T'ii is already on the move - then Weyrleader's strides are short, to the point - but then they lengthen. He is not quite running for the candidate, but he is moving /very quickly/. "/Mohitani/!"

Mohitani is well-aware, at this point, that she's crossed one too many lines. Even as her fate is being sealed - getting pulled off of the sands would be, in fact, not a good thing - she has to get in one last recitation, perhaps the most fervently chanted one of all with fierce defiance.

The board is long burned and gone
So why must we all remain pawns?
Frusha's a dimglow
If she thinks we'll all stay so -
Screw her, I'm leaving at dawn!

Tanis watches the dragonets move around, then begins sidling to whoever is left to one side. She comes up Winston and Nulerak and smiles at them. Much better. Dance on the toes to keep the heat off her soles. Oh wow, that rhymed!

"MO!" Nulerak tries once more, obviously stamping down the urge to flail his arms wildly at the other candidate before he instead steps the remaining distance towards Winston. He still needs someone to cling onto, anyway. Without waiting for acknowledgement or anything, Nulerak sidles in close behind Winston with all intentions of using him as a human shield. He's still shifting his feet awkwardly about: it's hot. There's also dragonets on the sands to eye, and he'll do it from the relative safety that is behind Winston.

Tye has been doing her job all this time! YES. She has. Ahem. But she's been busy shoo'ing S'lo and Kiano and their new dragons off to the side. So consider her surprise when she gets back near the candidates and hears one of the candidates saying… "/Mohitani/!! Shards and shells, girl! What is WRONG with you! She's the /WEYRWOMAN/!" And Tye now stomps, quickly!, out to where the candidate stands. "You know better than that! What part of respect didn't you understand! Off the sands! OFF! You heard weyrwoman Chey!" And now, with more words coming forth, Tye starts to RUN towards the candidate!

Loren is still staring at the other female candidate, having completely forgotten about *dragonets* in her shock. Dredos' words break in, though, and she spins back awkwardly in the sand, falling towards the other boy in her attempt to move back closer to him. "No! Don't leave me!" She states firmly, despite her unsure footing.

Wind-Up Bathtub Toy Shark Blue Dragonet wavers, then sets out on a course guided by who knows what star. With an odd, rocking, side-to-side walk, not a waddle, he heads across the expanse of sand towards the sea of white robes. His feet crunch onto eggshells as he crosses the fragile beds of his siblings, gone now, lost. Crunch. Crunch.

Valorous Veneer for a Child's Venture Bronze Dragonet folds his wings about him, his cape… Already masked, his disguise is complete! Everything is, but no man can be without his pride, no sea can be without its fish, no sun without its moons, and no hero without those to protect. Yes… He must be completed, and so must that who he pick. And, seeing an act of valiance, of a protecter, he knows he's met his match, and, with a deft swing of his hips, this bronzen man hurtles almost too fast towards a growing brown haired boy who has made that final call, and pulls gently at that ferret-imprinted robe with his mouth.Yes, yes… You will do. You, Nulerak, will be this hero's hero.

Winston shifts away from Mohitani and shakes his head sadly. Then he catches sight of Nulerak and frowns. "Step up!" he orders the other candidate, stepping back himself to strip away Nulerak's shielding. "I'm not your bloody hatchling shield, and I do /not/ want to be in the way if one wants you! S'lo and Mort Impressed, so get forward!" And…perhaps it is fortunate, as he quicksteps out of Valorous Veneer's way.

Khanyl is left standing with a smaller group of boys, all seeming to want to cling to him for support. "Hey, not so hard!" One is pulling on his sleeve and is about to trip. He has to shift to one side to keep from being pulled over.

Valorous Veneer for a Child's Venture Bronze Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Nulerak, and steps forward.

"Um, Come on Najmaldith. I'll get you something to eat." Onlie starts leading the small dragon away from the hatching, away from the protesting candidates and the outraged leadership and the completely baffled weyrling masters and heads off to where she saw Kiano disappear earlier. "I'm sure there's food over here."

Frusha just goes FUME. "ALRIGHT. OUT. Have her OUT OF MY WEYR." The woman begins to screech, completely obvlivious to other things going on about her, other dragons. That girl is a menace, and Frusha is about the shade she wants that girl's real when they're done with her!

Tanis sighs as she sees Nulerak impress and gives him a large smile. "Congrats Nule!" Yet now there is no one left to stand next to except for Winston. The sands heat almost seem to be dying down on her feet and they remain planted on the ground, eyes watching as Frusha seems to be getting madder and madder. Yet she doesn't say anything towards Mo, or anyone else for that matter. Her lips are cracking in the heat and her voice would screech if she tried to say anymore. Frusha losing her temper makes her step again. This is not going to be a happy feast afterwards, that's for sure.

Dredos watches Onberlie… Onlie? walk off with her lifemate. He glances at the thinning crowd of eggs and dragonets and candidates. "Loren… come on," he mutters. "Gotta go where the dragons are still hatching, right?"

Tye waves to Onberlie, "Yes, yes! That way, please. See where the other weyrlings are?" She points to the side, where in fact, there are other dragonets and 'lings. "Lead your dragon over there. The other weyrlingmasters will be able to help. Did someone else just impress, shards!" And to think, she actually assumed nothing bad would happen. "Mo, I seriously can't believe you." Her head shakes. "Yes, Weyrwoman! We hear you, ma'am. We'll get this settled." T'ii is sent a look and Tye grabs at Mohitani's arm. "You just lose a great chance." Snarl!

Nulerak shifts after Winston as the other candidate tries moving around, looking increasingly panicked. "Faranth, Winston!" It's almost as though he's frustrated that his moving shield isn't being cooperative. As Winston side-steps away, Nulerak's faced with a … bronze. Nulerak seems as though he's ready to edge away, if anything's to be evidenced by the defensive posturing of his body, but then it just melts away. His eyes go wide, and hands seem to reach for the bronze's head (to get his mouth off his robe, maybe) and Nulerak says, voice cracking, "Ckiezeluth. Nu'ra." That seems all he's able to say for the moment.

T'ii ducks and dodges, weaves and twists around Impressions as he homes in on Mohitani; he almost misses the fact that his baby sister is leading a brown off the sands. "Congratulation, Beri!" he calls out, before reaching the troublemaker. From the side opposite Tye, he wraps a hand firm around her arm. "Come /on/," he growls, in preparation to frog-march the candidate off the sands.

Loren doesn't want to loose her cling-buddy, so if Dredos is moving, she's moving too, calling a weak "Go, Onberlie," over her shoulder as she follows behind the boy. She's holding so close that she's also using him to stay upright, stepping here and there, but not evenly nor gracefully.

Winston stares at Nulerak and the bronze for a moment feeling…quite a lot of things most likely. In the end, what comes out is a fairly sincere sounding, "Congratulations, Nu'ra," as he takes another step back. Dragonets are probably a lot less dangerous once Impressed, but it still pays to give them a decent berth in case of accidents. Respect the claws.

Wind-Up Bathtub Toy Shark Blue Dragonet lets out a shriek and picks up the pace, charging with violent speed at (through?) Dredos and Loren.

Mohitani simply bows again to Frusha - and oh, shards, people are grabbing her arms. Still, she's got a large smile on. "Shells, that felt /damn/ good to say, " she says at last, shrugging up at Tye. "I just took a great chance. I insulted a woman who has made life unbearable. And I'm getting a great chance - to go /home/ away from her regime!" Indeedy! So she's actually a willing person to be frog-marched - she'll even help T'ii and Tye along by starting to walk toward the exit. She'd probably be yelling, 'see you, suckers!' if it were feasible. Or something.

That's right, she's squished between a pissed off Weyrleader/Weyrlingmaster sandwich. "You will never, ever see these sands again, you hear me? Never again. So long as I'm alive." And she'll be around for a loooong time. Trust me. And so starts the dragging. "I apologize, Weyrleader. I thought we taught them all correctly. Obviously not."

Onberlie blinks up when she hears her name a couple times, a little stunned and distracted. She nods to Tye and heads in the correct direction before looking over to T'ii and giving him a quick smile. "Oh, It's Onlie now." She waves once more and guides Najmaldith toward the meat. MMmm. Meat.

Tanis watches as Nu'ra and his bronze just stand there, and then looks around at the few eggs that are left and the candidates. Slowly, very slowly, she begins side-stepping around the others to make her way for Khanyl on the other side of the sands without straying too much out of the candidate line. One eye is kept on the weyrleaders, and the other on her route. She isn't even watching the dragonets anymore.

Dredos turns just in time to see… Blues gone Wild. He most decidedly shrieks, tugs on Loren's arm to hurl her out of the way, then jumps. But not in time. Not even close. The blue soundly hip-checks Dre hard enough to send him skidding across the sand to thud against the wall below the galleries where he slumps in a bloody heap.

"You /shelling/ -" But T'ii can't even strangle out anything more, just ducks his head down and pulls Mohitani along behind him.

Skeleton in the Closet Egg shivers one last time, like a broken maraca. The rattle of old bones catches and trembles, and then the skeleton dissolves, tumbling apart in a scattering of ancient parts. Laughing deathmask, gone: mocking ghost-forms, gone. In their place, fire and life.

Armor-Plated Remote-Control Tank Bronze Dragonet
No delicate prize, this one: he is weathered well before his time. Battered bronze thinly washes over a hulking musculature and militaristic bearing: it bleeds iron-grey over the straining spars of his wings' tattered glory; it trails past the blunt curve of narrowed hips and stumpy tail. His badly-set muzzle crooks to the left, warping the symmetry of what could have been a handsome visage. Darkness fissures the muted hide, lending a craggy-jaggy air of authority. Ancient knowledge lies within the depths of his shadowed eyes, calculation at the heart of this old-souled war-machine.

"Dre!" The distracted weyrling is not quite distracted enough to miss the flying Dredos and the subsequent crunch. She winces and turns, half starting toward him, but Najmaldith gives her pause and she looks down at him, eyes swimming with tears. She frowns and waves before shouting out. "Someone get Dredos a healer, please?"

Winston whirls away from watching Nu'ra and then Mohitani at the sound of Dredos's shriek. His jaw drops for a third time in one hatching, this time in real horror, rather than surprise or disbelief. "Dredos!" he yells instinctively, and he actually takes a step towards the fallen candidate before he stops himself on the realization that helping Dredos is really not what he is equipped to do. His eyes are pained and frightened however, and Dredos keeps his eyes locked rather more than Mohitani now.

Wind-Up Bathtub Toy Shark Blue Dragonet does not pause. Dredos is on the ground, bleeding, but Dredos - Dredos is nothing. A snarl is all the warning there is for Tye and T'ii, and then he is upon them, a wave of violent blue, and that same violence that ripped into Dredos is swirling up around the trio on their way off the sands. No: no. This one cannot leave…

Shazi charges across the Sands as soon as she sees Dredos go down. "Oh, !" She repeats herself several times over, building a rhythm that matches the pounding of her boots on the sand. "Is there a healer in the galleries?" she calls out as she drops beside the fallen candidate.

Loren face-dives through the sand, taking scrapes on her face, hands, knees, elbows and other miscellaneous parts, but the damage is only minor. She turns up over, looking for Dredos with a look of hurt and disbelief. Why did he do that? When she spots the male candidate, her own hurt is forgotten and she's up, scrambling across the sands for him. Shazi has beaten her there, so she skirts Dredos, landing on his other side.

Tanis watches and puts a hand over her mouth as Dredos goes flying. She is frozen in place again, unable to speak or move even as the blue dragonet heads furiously towards the entrance after the retreating Mohitani. Not even the heat of the sands is noticable to her now. She may not have liked Dredos that much, but for him to be hurt? Not at all what she wanted.

Dredos is pretty much dragon-bait now. Almost literally. He's not moving. Just bleeding. At least he's off the sands, sort of. Very efficient of him.

Winston was a lot happier when all the action he wanted to watch was in front of him. Now, Dredos is down over /there/, a dragonet is flinging himself down on Mohitani, the Weyrleader and the Weyrlingmaster /there/, and the remaining dragonets are over /there/. He winds up swiveling between the three, which does give him a convenient excuse to keep resetting his overheated feet. Also, he finds himself standing in rather a void on the sands, which is also an uncomfortable position.

K'ano has been here the whole time you see, only… he's found someone else to be self absorbed in at the moment. Even the attacks on the sand are totally going over his head.

Chey has too many things to do. The most important, though: she is still clutchmomma, and she waits, white-knuckled, by Mynwiyath. This is almost over…

Armor-Plated Remote-Control Tank Bronze Dragonet is one of those remaining dragons: he bulls his way through the shell, and starts an immediate march across the sands. His lifemate is OUT THERE. And, so - now is he.

Tanis finally unfreezes from place on the sands and walks as quickly as possible towards Khanyl. "Khan!" Her voice is weak and as she just about at tears as she reaches for his hand.

The eggs are almost all hatched now. Only 3 small eggs remain, all of Griellitath's. They sit there. A few dragonets are still searching.

Shazi gingerly checks to see that Dredos both has a pulse and continues to breathe, knowing that much at least. She eyes his broken leg and picks out each spot of bleeding. "This is *not* supposed to happen." She shoots an accusatory look over her shoulder at Frusha, placing blame on the Weyrwoman, rather than the candidate who spawned this trouble on the Sands.

Mohitani, still sandwiched between Tye and T'ii, automatically yells as there's suddenly a blue dragonet all around them. But suddenly, she stops yelling, eyes wide and breath suddenly - shorter. Gasping suddenly, as though just releasing her breath, she stares at the blue, expression wild. "Urmeerdouloth! I think I'll be the one needin' a guide after all /that/!" Oh boy. Suddenly, limericks were a very, very bad idea. Oops.

The little ones have all moved off to bug someone else luckily enough, and Khanyl takes Tanis's hand in his and squeezes it tight. Though his eyes never find hers, they are watching the movement of the dragonets, the bleeding Dredos, and taking it all in to find the right scene to later draw out his thoughts.

Palia is frozen. So there's someone out there, hurt! But… Unfortunately, she can barely move. Her legs are frozen, her eyes are just barely settled on the contents of the Sands… In reality, she's not sure whether to be angry or sad at Dredos's state. So. In the end? She just laughs. Good response to everything!

"Shards!" Tye yelps, yanking her arm away from Mohitani and the blue dragonet. "Little beast!" She hisses under her breath, and then looks around to make sure no one heard that. She'll leave this to the Weyrleader, he can handle it. Instead, she just crosses her arms and gets a very evil looking smile on her face. "Ahaha. Welcome to weyrlinghood, Mohitani. If you and Urmeerdouloth, was it? Well, if you two would make your way to the sidelines and prepare for the next two turns of you life, that'd be lovely." MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

A pair of healers enter from the entrance to the sands carrying a stretcher between them. In a few quick moments, they have Dredos loaded and are trotting off those hot sands just as quickly as they can, disappearing into the cooler air.

Winston stares for a minute at Mohitani. After all that. And she has a dragon now. His lips quirk towards a smile for a moment, at the sheer level of infuriation the leadership, especially Frusha, must feel. He glances at the Weyrwoman, and then turns back to actually focus on the remaining hatchlings; not so many now. And very few actual eggs. One more glance at Dredos, however, sobers him up considerably, despite the reassurance of the healers tending to him, and Winston focuses rather more intently on the remaining dragonets.

Armor-Plated Remote-Control Tank Bronze Dragonet lowers his head and bulls forward, slow, deliberate. For one very odd moment, he looks up at a female candidate, but that wasn't going to lead to anything: old eyes move on, scanning the sands.

"She Impressed." /What/. "She IMPRESSED?! That bloody little girl is… WHAT." The outrage hits Frusha at that pivotal moment, and, seeing the devistation her new lifemate caused, the goldrider only begins to fume more and more before, with a curl of her nose she eyes Chey, Shazi, and all others are defiantly, before wordlessly moving to an indistinct part of the Sands, where she can't be seen.

Loren hovers over one side of Dredos, one hand waving over his body, looking for a place to rest it on him without getting in the way. Suddenly, he's hauled away and Loren simply sits there, staring at Shazi with such a look of shock that tears are actually falling down her cheeks. So, she didn't have any major affections for him, but it's still upsetting to have your clutch-buddy to be ripped away from you like that.

Shazi takes a deep breath and rocks back on her heels as the healers cart Dredos' unconscious form off the Sands. She swears again, then reaches out to pat Loren on the shoulder. She offers a comforting smile. "He'll be okay." Empty words, coupled with her lack of real knowledge of medicine.

T'ii has let go of Mohitani by now, eyes wide. "Oh, shells. Oh, shards. Oh, /shi-" He somewhat wisely cuts himself off, then tucks his head down and starts making his way away back through the quickly-emptying sands.

With Frusha storming off to fume and Dredos tended and Mohitani falling in with the other new weyrlings, Winston is free to focus his attention where it should have been all along. He shifts slightly, winding up in the center of a very wide open bit of the previously full circle, his eyes flicking left and right a little nervously.

Mohitani is busy getting the wing-and-limbful of a very unhappy dragon settled into something that can hopefully walk a little more calmly. No more of this plowing through people business. Now that she's released - into the clutches of Tye, no less - the newly made weyrling doffs a cheerful salute and a, "Of course, Tye. Ma'am. Weyrlingmaster. C'mon, 'Meer. Yeah, there'll be food. We'll getcha something real good. Lots of it!"

Tanis watches quietly as the last dragonets hatch and make their way around them. She squeezes Khanyl's hand tighter and then drops it. Frusha's screamed is noted, and eyes flick there briefly, then back as they cart Dredos off the sands. "Oh Faranth, I never wanted anyone hurt. Not anyone." Not even Frusha actually.

Armor-Plated Remote-Control Tank Bronze Dragonet has laid a course in, and plugged in the proper corrections, now, it's time to let instinct do its job. There is the one. He moves like destiny itself, and for a moment, it seems there will be another casualty on the sands, but candidates have sense enough to scrabble away, and this one is not moving fast. He has all the time in the world. All the time in the world to find… Winston.

Armor-Plated Remote-Control Tank Bronze Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes towards Winston, and steps forward.

Armaderoth wiggles.

Najmaldith huffs.

Still, three eggs sit. Still. Quiet.

Kadie, one of the youngest candidates still on the sands, suddenly starts bawling. She just can't take it. She even starts to approach one of the quiet eggs until a taller candidate yanks her back by the scruff of her neck.

Tanis watches as Winston impresses and calls out a congrats to him, then looks around again. Soon, there are no more dragonets left unimpressed and she just stands there. Not exactly knowing where to go now.

Loren is not reassured, but she stands, still watching Shazi for a moment. Perhaps if she stares at the rider long enough, she will begin to be comforted? Guess not. Half-heartedly, Loren turns back to look over the sands. Three eggs left. She takes a couple steps closer, though not near enough to where the other candidates are left standing.

When a bronze comes thumping in towards him, Winston looks left and right, then behind him. No, there's no Nulerak hiding behind him, so there's no way for Winston to retreat, to believe he's coming for anyone else. And there he is. Winston stares into those whirling eyes for a long minute, then blinks and licks his lips as if tasting something odd. "Ky -" His quiet voice breaks off, and he licks his lips again, announcing more firmly, "Kyzhanth. He's…Kyzhanth."

Shazi presses to her feet. She still has weyrlings to care for. She moves back across the sands, picking up Winston on the way. "Come on, Weyrling. Kyzhanth." Yeah, she managed to catch the name. She smiles at the new pair.

Palia leaves the Hatching Sands, heading for the Weyrling Barracks and a new life.

It takes Khanyl to actually make the first move. "Come on. Let's get off these hot sands." He says with a disappointed but loving smile and leads Tanis off with him to gather their things in the candidate barracks.

Tanis slips back into the shadows.

Chey casts a nervous look at Frusha, then at those remaining eggs.

Winston stares at Kyzhanth for a moment, then a grin starts to spread across his face. Whatever craziness there was on the sands, Winston will put it aside in the moment of Impression. Finally, he gives himself a little shake and ndos to Shazi. "Ah, yes ma'am," he acknowledges, and gives a little nod, leading Kyzhanth onward.

Then Chey looks at T'ii.

T'ii looks at Chey, and bites his lip.

Chey stares at T'ii. Pointedly.

Well, there are three eggs left, but if the other candidates are leaving, it must be the end, else they wouldn't allow them to go. So, Loren turns and slowly follows, caught up in her sadness for Dredos the way the other candidates are sad for the leftover eggs.

T'ii stares at the non-moving eggs, and shifts uneasily from foot to foot.

Frusha is off in the corner, so not too visable.. But she is staring at those eggs. Griellitath seems to think it's over, and, while piteous, looks like she's ready to take off for the Feeding Grounds… But Frusha doesn't move. "W..r…nt.." is all that can be heard of her mumbling.

Bandeleth hunkers down low, and croons one note of encouragement that gradually fades to distress. His eyes whirl redly, and he swings his head to T'ii. Now he /and/ Chey are looking at the Weyrleader. Pointedly. T'ii scrubs a hand across the back of his neck, then looks around. "Shazi," his voice breaks, just a little. "Chey. We need to-"

From the sands, Chey exhales. "Everyone," she says. "Back off the sands. Thank you all for coming." She turns to glare at T'ii again, then melts into chewing on her lip.

From the sands, T'ii puts his head down, and hunches his shoulders. He starts walking toward the dud eggs, with a shifty-eyed glance at Griellitath.

From the sands, Chey swallows, then shifts a bit over, towards Frusha. Cautiously. "Ma'am?" she says. Her voice is actually gentle, no scorn at all in it. "Ma'am, it might be best if you and - and Griellitath were off the sands. She looks hungry, and…"

From the sands, Shazi is about to follow the newly Impressed towards the barracks when T'ii speaks her name. She turns, the crack in his voice impelling her gaze to follow his. She frowns, then falls into line at T'ii's back. "Yes, sir," she says quietly, remaining physically aloof, professional, but vocally emotive.

From the sands, "I," Frusha snaps, turning to Chey with a fervent glare. "Will do as I please, JUNIOR Weyrwoman!" The pudgy woman snubs her nose, before looking at those eggs and, with a deepening scowl, turns on her heels and begins to stride as quickly as possible off the Sands, the large blinding gold quick to follow her example by taking off in direction of food. Looks like someone's going to be a little peeved for… more than a little while.

From the sands, Chey exhales again, watching Frusha depart. Her head dips briefly, and then she moves to T'ii. "We… should get those, um, handled, then?" she says cautiously.

From the sands, The eggs, fortunately, are small - T'ii pushes one, somewhat gingerly, and it tip-roll-rattles to one side. "We need to - take them off the Sands. Take them ::between::." At this, Bandeleth's head whips around again, and T'ii winces slightly, but does not speak further.

From the sands, Oljeitukhodath spirals down from above, battered by thermals.

From the sands, Chey looks up at Bandeleth, and her eyes are quiet and a bit distant, she looks down again after a moment. "Yeah," she says. "I… yeah. We need to get them… away." A brief pause hangs, but she can't not say it, in the end. "/Three/, T'ii. Three. Out of only eleven."

From the sands, Oljeitukhodath settles on the edge of the sands, a silent sentinel. Shazi looks from T'ii to Chey, her ears burning as her frown deepens. She keeps her lips zipped and her gaze down.

From the sands, Bandeleth moves up behind T'ii, and carefully - carefully, carefully scoops the biggest of the three dud eggs up, to cradle it in his claws; they do not puncture the egg's too-hard shell, and he gives his lifemate a significant Look before spreading his wings, and surging up into the air, and out through the observational ledges.

From the sands, "Ah. If you could follow suit-" T'ii scuffs a toe in the sand, then turns to mutter something at Shazi and Chey both.

From the sands, You overhear T'ii mutter, "He … to … what's … with … babies. … taking … … … … ledge … … … think of somewhere …" to Chey.

From the sands, You overhear T'ii mutter, "… … … know what's … … … babies. … taking … … the … … … … … … … … …" to Shazi.

From the sands, Shazi follows Bandeleth's flight, brows lifting in wonder at the bronze's tender retreat. "Follow?" Oljeitukhodath is well ahead of his lifemate, nosing her aside to ease his claws about the smallest of the three. He drops to offer Shazi a shoulder but the bluerider waits for T'ii and Chey, but it is T'ii she addresses, "Sir?"

From the sands, Chey looks… dubious. "T'ii, are you…" But she lets the question trail off unasked, and gnaws on her lower lip a minute. "Okay," she says. And Mynwiyath, with obvious reluctance, moves to take up the final egg.

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