High Reaches' 4th PC Hatching

Shaela's gold Chayath x Yiddae's brown Tyrodinth
4th December 1999
Logged by D'renn


<All> Trydanth senses that Tiareth picks up Chayath's vibrations and amplifies them. She resonates really, sending out the familiar excitement of a hatching's thrum: rrrrmmmrrrvrrrmmmrrrr… /Eggs/.

<All> Trydanth senses that he joins in, with electrifying gusto. Brrrrrrrm…… vrrmmmmmmm…. « Hatching. » He's smug.

<All> Trydanth senses that Kelawith stretches tiredly, sleeping, as always, but awake now. « Mmm… eggs.. hatching? Eggs hatching. » What a concept.

Thhhhhrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. The Weyr reverberates.

<All> Trydanth senses that Tyrodinth touches first his mate's mind and then they both reach out to all the dragons of Pern. Joy, anticipation, excitement… Without words, they make it plain their first clutch is about to hatch.

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.
Assorted Candidates are here.

D'renn escapes in from the bustling activity of caverns and Weyr.
"Did you hear that, did you!" D'renn's frantic.

Tyara comes home.

Pyrene throws her head up from fire-lizard oiling… "Oh no…" She's heard taht noise before. "Oh shells…"

"What was that?!" Lylia practically screeches, clutching the blanket to her chest.

Quedista looks up from her cot, promptly rolling off. "Eek!" Escapes her mouth, as she rubs her bruised arm.

Tovanis lifts his head lazily, woken from a doze. "Wha'? Someone shut that noise up?"

<All> Trydanth senses that Zaqith responds, joining the thrum with cinnamon warmth, barely touched with proddy cream. «Hatching…»she echoes.

Liseria sits up, her multi-tiered towel gown whipping 'round her. Just finished her bath, see. "Aiiyee! Hatching! And I'm not even /dry/ yet!" Her main concern, apparently.

Maurin is on the floor. That's where he kinda…toppled when the weyr started shaking. "H-h-hatching?!" He squeeks, desperately trying to untangle himself from his sleeping rug.

Tellia sits bolt upright in her cot, blue eyes widening at the recognized sound. "It's /happening/!" she shrieks, glancing wildly about at her fellow Candidates. As if they can't all hear for themselves…

Quara hurriedly pulls on her robe at the shaking of the Weyr, plopping back down onto the cot to lace up her sandals. "Fine warning we get!" she mutters angrily, her stress making itself known in her snappish attitude.

Tyara runs in, trying to catch her breath. "Oh Faranth," she mutters, then loouder: "Kolen! Get up, now!" She untangles herself from her humming lizards, scrambling around to get her robe.

<All> Trydanth senses that Piccath zings bright pepper at all. « Hatching, Hatching, Hatching. And they are. Soon. » His thrum buzzes with excitement.

Gekoki, having been bouncing on her cot before, practically makes her cot fall down, "Hear it! Of course!" She scrabbles for her robes, trying to discern the sleeves from, er, everything else.

Siwillowy escapes in from the bustling activity of caverns and Weyr.
Tyara slips back out to the caverns.

"Get into your robes, get into your robes!" D'renn flaps - literally - racing around the barracks in a flurry of checked trousers and sweater and bobbing curls.

Siwillowy runs in as if the devil himself were after her.

Pyrene dashes behind a small curtain leading to.. the necessary. Go while you have the chance… Returning in record time, she throws herself into her robe - taking many clothes off only after she's got that all important garment on. "We're going as fast as we can!" she snaps out to d'renn. Nervous?

Liseria frowns pensively as she paws through her stuff. Robe, robe, robe… Shucking towels, she slithers into the robe and desperately tries to towel-dry her hair. Rubrubrub.

Maurin deposites his 'lizard hurriedly upon his cot, modesty temotrarily forgotten as he flips out his robe, and eases into it. Lys chirrups unhappily as he is moved, being so little and all, and Maurin looks a little worried as his head pops through the neck hole. "Will he be o-okay here?" He asks anxiously, motioning to the tiny blue.

"Eh? Ugh? Ah?" Mharida is amazingly coherant - it's a good thing that she's a cook, not a harper. Cook rises from her c0t, grabbing her robe. "Hatching! Can I take some chewy bars on the sands, do you think?"

Sands> Shaela and Yiddae were on the Sands, joined swiftly by Weyrsecond R'sli, and by L'shil… in his underwear.

Sands> L'shil blinks at her, eyes still sleep-befuddled. "What I am wearing? I don't know. What /am/ I wearing?" Trust L'shil not to know. Belatedly, he jerks his head to Chayath and Tyrodinth, too nervous to do anything smoother.

Sands> Yiddae shifts, disturbed a little as Tyrodinth lifts his head, thrumming intently, eyes whirling faster with varying emotions. Piccath is acknowledged politely but distantly as the brown concentrates on added to the deep hum that makes the very bones of the Weyr vibrate with a unmistakable energy.

Quara bats Gavin off of her shoulder in annoyance, frowning. "You can't come with me, silly!" she shouts at the little blue, who flaps off to her cot to sulk. "Keep him there," she orders her bronzes, who hurry to obey. "You should've learned after last time," she grumbles, knotting her hair up and away with a hastily-snatched ribbon.

Sands> R'sli walks across the Sands, a grin on his face as he makes his way toward the others. His book in hand, his stub of charred stick scribbles furiously. "Yiddae, Shaela," he greets the expectant pair. "L'shil," he grins. "Anyone care to make any last minute wagers?"

Quedista quickly grabs her robe from under her pillow, flinging it over her head, and pulling off the other gown after she's got the white one on. her breathing quickens, and she stares off into space.

Lylia dives under her covers. "AUUUGH!" A random hand reaches out, fumbling under the bed. It yanks out a pile of white cloth, which disappears under the sheets. Roughly, the sheets bounce, and a moment later a robed Lylia rolls out. "Sandals!" She falls to the ground, fumbling under the bed for a moment, before jumping back up. "Oh well… barefoot it is. 'Mion! Stay!" She begins to shiver, ordering her ferret as she attempts to get herself together.

Sands> "Lesh, that's hideous. I don't want to see that," Shae turns away from the brownrider, facing the quickly-filling galleries, now. Okay, maybe looking at L'shil is a better option. "Go, into my tent. Grab some clothes. Something. Anything. You're /embarrassing/ me," she hisses.

Gekoki scrambles to braid her hair right, having to slow her trembling fingers enough to manipulate the strands. She starts tying them up before D'renn, who looks like he's going to pop himself soon, shooes her out.

Pyrene desperately attacks her hair with a white strip of cloth, managing to wrap it around the end of her still wispy plait. "OK, there… done… no wait, sandals!" she dives for the floor and rummages desperately under her cot, lizards helping in hte most unhelpful way imaginable.

Maurin fumbles with his sandals, trying to get the wretched things on in a hurry. But they weren't meant to be put on in a hurry, and he has quite a bit of difficulty with them. Ack. Ook. Eeeeee…

Tovanis gets calmly and collectedly into his robe. Here we go again….

Quedista sits firmly on her cot, and continues to stare into space. Too much noise.

Sands> L'shil blinks, slightly quicker, at Shaela before looking to R'sli and Yiddae for help. "Um… Is what I'm wearing really so bad as all that? Shae, none of your closthes will fit me…"

Auri looks about, blinking sleep from her eyes. One word, "Huh?"

Pyrene finally finds her sandals and struggles to get them on her feet while staring around at all the others, "Auri… get changed. Hear that hum?"

Gekoki hears the partial yells for sandals, and stoops to put her own on her feet, letting go of the braid she's presently pinning up, to let it fall down her back so she can secure the sandals properly…

Liseria peers down at herself, wiggling bare toest proudly. Nuts, definately. Just not mind-healer certified. Everything's tugged at, the girl hastily tugging something on under her edge of her robe. No shoes, yes, but she's not going sans /those/.

"Line up, line up in pairs," D'renn commands, pointing in front of him, in front of the exit.

Tovanis strolls casually into his place, giving Siwillowy a wink as he passes her.

Sands> Yiddae rearrages herself. She's managed to find a perch, cradled securely on her lifemate big foreleg, leaning comfortably against the dark shoulder and certainly quite safe. It gives her a lovely view of the eggs at least. "L'shil? Oh, well…" None of her clothes would fit either. "You could be dressed better." the blond informs the other brownrider.

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

Sands> Shaela is all dressed up in her nice, new Kiara-made dress. And look at her sandals! Only the best for Shaela. And here's L'shil in his, well, underwear. "Probably a good point," she sees the flaw of her suggestion. This is definitely not going to work. "Can't you.. - Erf, Chayath. They'll be /fine/," she reassures her fussing lifemate distractedly. "Lesh, you have to do something. You can't be here looking like /that/."

Quara finishes her preparations, glanging briefly in a mirror as she pulls off her knot, dropping it onto her cot and nearly braining Gavin in the process. "Stay there!" she reprimands them one more time before she glances around.

"Everyone ready? Everyone?!" D'renn's panicky - you'd think he's never done this before.

Pyrene dashes into line, waving her firelizards back to snooze on her cot. "Well… last chance." she mutters, trying to be calm. Again. "Lis… stand with me?"

Lylia leaps next to Gekoki, leaping up and down. "Wanna be with me, Gekoki?"

Auri blinks, scrambling into her robe, and totally forgetting anything else. She pulls at her tangled hair.

"Pyrene!" Liseria half-whines, stepping over the forms of cot-neighbors busily dressing themselves. "'Course, 'course 'course 'course." Uh-oh, she's babbling. Hand - not too sweaty - reaches out for Py's… Pair?

Quedista leaps from her cot. "Auri? Auri, are you there?" She runs to the the door, glancing about for Auri, nearly tripping on her garment, holding it up with her left hand.

Tyara rushes into the line, ending up near Tellia. "Faranth, this is a mess…"

Maurin scrambles, in search of someone to pair with. Tiri isn't caught fast enough, and thusly he peers at the next person he sees. "Q-quara?"

Tellia twitches her fingers, smoothing robe hastily into place. "Tyara!" Yup, she's snatched herself a pair. "Ooh, can you believe it's actually /time/?" This may be her third time to head for the Sands, but she seems nervous enough for her first…

Gekoki pauses in lacing up her sandals, her look blank for a second, oblivious to D'renn's frantic shouts. "Oh, pairs! Sure, Lylia!" She hurriedly tries getting her wayward braid into order atop her head…

Quara dashes into line, with hurried glances about to find someone to stand next to. Aimlessly, she wanders about for a bit before she finds someone to stand with, not noticing who.

Tyara giggles nervously. Really, she's not.. "No, I can't," she admits, peering at Tellia. She's even been in this situation before..

"Get into line, get into line…" D'renn chivvies Candidates, including Sena, Saera and Khayet, in with the rest. "Everyone ready to go?" The thrummmm is louder than ever.

Pyrene grips Liseria with whitened knuckles - poor Lis. But still, the other girl's used to this by now right. "OK… and I am /never/ doing this again…"

Maurin doesn't get an answer, but grabs Quara's forearm, pulling her into place next to him. No time for modesty, thanks.

Lylia clings to Gekoki's arm. "OhdearOhdear…"

Siwillowy ignores Tovanis and his winking, only to find she getes paired off with him as the line shifts and people move about. "Great", she mutters under her breath, and steps into line.

Sands> Tyrodinth rumbles momentarily. No, he's not objecting to Piccath. As long as Piccath doesn't get in the way that is.

Auri darts, almost tripping, to Quedista, clasping the older girl's hand nervously.

Sands> Chayath stalks one corner of the Sands, her great jewelled eyes whirling uncertain shades of orange. Each egg, rocking or not, is nudged curiously, protectively, before she returns to her post by the tiny, white egg.

Quedista nods frantically, stepping into the forming line. "right." She squeezes Auri's hand a bit too hard.

Sands> L'shil jabs at the littlest egg with a finger, and tells R'sli, "Blue. One sixteenth. And why can't you say anything with ladies present? Shae, answer me this. Do you want me here for here on out? Or would you rather I try to find my Hatching-Day clothes? I really did have a set made up, but I don't know where they went."

Sands> Ovoids on the sand - they're moveing. Well, a few are. Morning Mirror-Gazing Egg shivers while Fudge Frosty Divinity Egg seems to be working it's way deeper and deeper into it's sandy bed. Hide The Shoes Egg is wiggling a bit too. Most of the rest are still quisesent however.

Quara stands nervously, taking note as Maurin tugs her over. "Oh! Hi…" She looks about, finally spotting someone, and she waves frantically before she waits nevrously for that all-important moment.

Liseria grins conspiratorially at Pyrene. "Oh, I'm not so sure about that," the girl teases with a wink. Then again, she's a little biased. "It's really lots of fun… warm as Ista!" Sigh.

Sands> R'sli makes the notation, and looks up at L'shil with a grin. "All I can say is this, Lesh. Nice jammies." He laughs outright, at that, and moves off to watch the eggs intently.

Sands> "I know," Shaela pouts, her violet eyes cast downwards at the sands as she whimpers. "And it matched my pretty, flouncy outfit," she picks at a piece of lint that has managed find its way onto the skirt of her gown. "Where'd it go?"

Sands> Interminable Journey Egg rocks just a little. A single little touch of impatience for this all to be over and done with.

Auri is still not extremely sure what's going. Considering the same thing has been running through her mind for the last few days? Weeks? She blurts out a question, looking up at Quedista with worried blue eyes. "Eggies hatching?"

And off they go….
Sands
Heat rises - ripples - wavers in a stifling curtain that envelops dragons and eggs while smothering riders and visitors. The black sands have been raked into ruts and dips, an alien, uneven surface for anyone trying to walk across them. Some say tension seers the heat: residue of hope, fear, relief, sadness, pain and ultimate joy staining high grey walls and lurking about the many viewing ledges that speckle the walls. Ancient murals of dragonlore fade across the walls near gallery and entrances.
Gold Chayath, Brown Tyrodinth, and brown Piccath are here.
You see Frosh Day Egg, Roaring Drunk Egg, Helston Flora Dance Egg, Solar Eclipse Egg, Wimbledon Strawberries and Cream Egg, All Hallow's Eve Egg, Interminable Journey Egg, Winter Solstice Egg, Full Moon Egg, Flower-Power Volkswagen Bus Egg, and Mound of Eggs here.
Yiddae, Shaela, L'shil and R'sli are here.


THE EGGS! (With credits - well done to the desc-tweakers!)
The 10 PC eggs:

All Hallow's Eve Egg [Brandon]
The fabled contents are but one of the many mysteries surrounding this rather rounded egg: how could an ovoid be so darkly hued?; how could simple wisps of foggy gray hold so many meanings? For a moment, the fleeting shape of a long-dead loved one's ghostly face is apparent; in another, the shapes of tubers and fruits served upon a shadowy offering platter are all that remain. Dancing ghouls, the mouths of banshees open in eternal shrieks - this, and more, are oft glimpsed as the mists swiftly sweep from base to zenith. Trick or treat: the contents of the midnight shell may fool all with its true nature.
Flower-Power Volkswagen Bus Egg [Tai]
Too-bright smears of amateur art smudge enthusiastically 'cross egg's curves; a psychadelic blend of the dark and the light infuses itself between the simple cast of mostly primary-hued fingerpaint colors. The blocky corners of the ovoid chamber are specked with vermillion-sparkled angles, and the narrow taper of sand-buried base fades to an unornamented, gritty black.
Frosh Day Egg [Sariani]
Florescent white burns and glares, the polished luster painfully emanating a B sense of confusion and disorientation. The curve of the delicate shell does little to alleviate the bewildering bite of incandescence, broken only by flashes of colour in vague, half-formed shapes possibly even more perplexing than the background. Scattered over the orb, fuzzy hints of books, pencils and other scholastic objects serve only to confuse the eye. A veritable jungle of tile and whitewash, this ovoid is indeed intimidating upon first sight.
Full Moon Egg [Breck]
Milky pale and swirled over with misty jewels, tinted rainbow-soft, this egg reaches for the heavens, seeming to glow with an unearthly light. A closer look reveals a shadowy figure dancing along the shell's lunar curves, waxing not waning in celebration of an ancient ritual of joy.
Helston Flora Dance Egg [Pyrene]
Sprays of blue wreathe around blossoming white; dancing nosegays, not of the cold, hard hues of winter, but the ineffably soft shades of spring, tracing out a garland which wends its way over the egg. Blithe clusters whirl with light grace from the top to daisy-chain around the middle in smaller posies, careless and carefree. From these tender sprigs, the floral parade blooms more resplendently towards the base of the egg as the azure and white are joined with a dazzling array of other colors, intertwining in joyous affirmation of budding life.
Interminable Journey Egg [Shanysia]
Drab shades of brown and blue vie with sparkling hues of mica-flecked red as they glimmer in the flickers of sunlight which manage to penetrate the pervading blanket of dust; a long voyage's covering of dirt casts an ashen shadow upon the ovoid. Flesh-colored blurs appear at regular intervals, peering dismally through the powdered, iridescent curtains. Swirls of metallic shades - silver and chrome - intersperse themselves upon the apex before culminating in a cloudy white splotch upon the very tip. Imagination lends itself to envision the air of an eternal, cramped journey, not unlike that of the occupant within the dusty shell.
Roaring Drunk Egg [Alanna]
Colors whip drunkenly across this egg's smooth surface; different patterns blend together to stagger this way and that upon the perfect oval. Swirls and dashes, swishes and slashes - all cavort heedlessly upon the besotted shell, a kamikaze of amber and ocher. Various hues hint at brilliance as they shoot every which-way before melding together and surging into oblivion.
Solar Eclipse Egg [Saendi]
Blackness, darkness, midnight, ::between::. And yet, it is none of those, but something equally dark, equally dangerous: the sinuous body of a serpent wraps suffocating coils 'round and 'round the last dying rays of a valiant sun, choking out the life, the light, the hope. It doesn't matter - hope may be lost, but will is not, and resounding ripples of a swiftly stricken gong reverberate up the shell of the egg, for it is not perfectly round like its counterparts. Rather, smooth as the glistening snow atop the twisting Reachian spires, unruffled undulations meander up and down the shell in a never-ending tale of ancient myths, whilst golden streaks of sunlight weep for release - for itself, for the people, for the land.
Wimbledon Strawberries and Cream Egg [D'renn]
Summer sunlight carves gleaming facets from this egg's clotted-cream roundness, exposing strawberry-sweet reds and pinks that peep from the rich yellow shell. But sugar sifts, whiter than white, over the crest, to soften those prisms of colour into a velvety and tantalising diffusion.
Winter Solstice Egg [Sudanna]
Cool and soft, a swirling shade of deep celestial blue surrounds this shell, scattered with a thousand glittering spots of silvery light. As rough-seeming as a tree-trunk, a gnarled patch of brown rests at one end of the egg, flaming to a burst of pulsing orange. Strands of pine's dark green festoon the egg's centre, wrapping it in winter's evergreen splendour.

And the remaining 12 NPC eggs:

Baleful Bullfight Egg [D'renn]
Sawdust's pale yellow scatters over this egg's surface, though rusty flecks of blood-brown mar its heat-blanched pallor. Sweeping ivory crescents gouge darker crimson pools to quench the thirsty, earthy base with the threat of its perilous promise: is there Death or gory Glory within?
Bataille de Fleurs Egg [Sita]
A vivid assortment of flowers swirl around the shell of this egg in a rampant swirl of color. Similarly a riot of small squares, reminiscent of confetti, dance across the surface gayly. A light cream, almost honeyed, makes a soft backdrop for this cascade of hue, though not hindering the battle of the colors, letting them forever fight against themselves for attention. Shifted one way, the bright flowers catch the eye in their dynamic movement, and shifted the other, confetti assaults the senses with it's own shifting and moving pattern.
Belmont Stake Egg [Sen]
Last, but never least, this final jewel in the crown nigh-glows with the richness of its prize. Like some great silver trophy, this egg's polished shell gleams to blind any that may strive for such success. Still, despite its size, a certain fey, almost fragile quality marks the Tiffany-made delicacy of each bright curve: irreplacable antiquity, ageless honor, and a moment in time that will never be forgotten.
Cha-no-yu Egg [Nuff & Ophelia]
Zen simplicity defines each austere line, each elegant curve, each proscribed turn of this egg steeped bitter-green: precise imperfection weaves a mat of pale bamboo to soften the contours of misshapen shell. The liquid depths beckon only true students to learn their time-worn secrets - that mastery is found on the journey from everything into nothing, in the rythym of patient ceremony.
Cruelly Intentioned Cliodhna Egg [Saera]
Beguiling crimson billows demurely o'er belling arch, profound, fathomless, and deep enough to drown in. Witching hour's phantom shadow scarlets fascination to old blood: alluringly sinister in its dark, rubied swirls. Filmy sienna lightly feathers lithe specters with the angelic grace of a songbird's wings, skewered sharply by jagged, rough-barked stalks, sharply distinct gainst angry obsidian streaks. Baleful foreboding roots temptation, grounding allure in sinister aura; demands and persuasion muddle in a ruddy whirlpool of vague menace overridden by compelling charm.
Fudge Frosty Divinity Egg [Oorla]
Nearly translucent, glowing yellow swirls weave across the a shell of soft, frosty white dreams. From the egg's delicate tip , slivers of cool pink and green spiral around the shell in a sensless pattern. Wherever the crisscrossing colors meld appear whispers of crystalized sparkles, and the entire round dream seems encased in a near invisible veil of luminous mist.
Hide-the-Shoes Egg [Liseria]
Though polished by the heat and the careful, maternal attentions of a gold dragon, the unobtrusive orb calls - begs - for the shadows, for the dark. Dully gleaming browns wrinkle over a perpetually-leathery shell, stitched in a worn form that lists to one flattened side. A wide lip - almost a tongue - of sepia arches up over the low-lying top, curling under a small pit of darkness; a blunt indentation barely noticed; but it's here where the real treasure lies. Burnished wrinkles of metallic umber sparkle amid the shadow, a hidden treat for the finder.
Kentucky Derby Egg [Sen]
The velvet perfection of this egg's green infield is surrounded by the smooth, loamy brown of a dirt track; earth encircles verdant green, an unsullied track awaiting thundering hooves. Over all this hangs a blanket of brilliant rose-red, each perfect petal agleam with near-breathless anticipation for victories not yet won. And beneath the dirt and grass lingers a wafting, quivering kiss of mint julep nigh alive with excitement for this, the Run of the Roses.
Morning Mirror-Gazing Egg [Aenor]
Through bleary silver-gray comes a sleepy kind of anxiety; flurries of ivory brush across the steely shell. A closer examination brings no clarity of perception: focussing on the egg's soft sheen only brings forth frenzied hints of white, blurred by morning's mist. From bulging base to rounded apex, a subtle but ambiguous security envelops all.
Pancake Tossing Egg [Thesy]
Ebony cloaks the base of this egg, a glowing blackness as hot as hell must be - or an iron pan darkened by endless years of use. Dapples of carmine sprout here and there, reflections of a smoldering coal fire underneath. Eerie wisps of silvery gray and bluish white twist and turn towards the egg's top, but … wait! What is this? Garlands of almost perfect pale brown circles, edged by a darker crispy shade, tumble and turn as they, too, wind their way up. Clearly visible in certain spots, almost hidden by the smoky haze in others, all are tossed into the air by a deft flick of the pan below. A drizzle of yellow and green sweeps over the dancing brown circles, soaking some, just sprinkling others while a shower of minute pearly white crystals swirls around the egg like a crazy, glistening snowstorm.
Preakness Egg [Sen]
This egg, the next jewel in the Triple Crown, blends brown and green in hot, dusty layers contrasted with the relief of cool and almost liquid shadows. This mingling of shades fades away into a crowd of more brilliant, shifting hues: a weathervane of jockey and horse - each alive with silken colors - are locked into an eternal race against time. As triumph explodes, a profusion of winning colors banner the shell to drown out even the saucy petals of black-eyed Susan's vibrant clarity.
Thanksgiving Turkey Dinner Egg [Shayla]
The top of egg is smothered with lumpy, harvest gravy; gray, brown, and other earthy colors slowly fade into the succeeding dish of the pale, buttery yellow of cream corn. Encircling the center of the egg is the smooth crimson hue of cranberry sauce. Its deep color contrasts with the other pallid shades, making it stick out like a sore thumb. Egg grows less brilliant, but the main course is served up; the turkey drumstick's baked, not burned, its brownish-tan color blending in well among the autumn flavor of spice. At last, colors blending towards egg's base, dessert arrives; a scrupmtious pumpkin pie adds a yellowish-orange color to the meal, topped off by a creamy swirl of milk-white.

D'renn steps onto the Sands, leading the Candidates: including Auri, Gekoki, Khayet, Liseria, Lylia, Maurin, Mharida, Pyrene, Quara, Quedista, Saera, Sena, Siwillowy, Tellia, Tiri, Tovanis and Tyara.

L'shil gulps, and looks down at himself. "Oh, no! I'm - I thought I might've given it to you with the dress, Shae? I did pick it up. But I don't know where it is. At all. And neither does Quirky. He says he didn't take them, though. And they weren't shiny enough for Rhyath to collect. And I do wish I knew. Candidates!" The last comes out as a yelp, and he does his best to hide behind Shaela.

The files of Candidates spread out until they've formed a very wall of white on the time-honored Sands. The signal to bow starts like a wave, sweeping from Tyrodinth's side of the Sands to Chayath's as each robed figure bends elegantly - and sometimes, not so elegantly - at the waist.

R'sli chuckles, and moves toward D'renn. "Any last minute wagers?" he asks sweetly, his book at the ready.

Pyrene doesn't bow elegantly - she's too busy remembering how hot the sands are. She does straighten up from /somethng/ though clinging onto Liseria's hand still and her other reaching out for somebody's, anybody's…

Tellia gives a little hop-skip as the heat burns through the thin soles of her sandals. Strangely enough, her face is quite composed and calm; only her super-wide blue eyes and the slight nervous twitch at her lips and hands give away the nervousness rising inside.

Roaring Drunk Egg shudders in a confusing little pattern, knocking up against its sibling eggs briefly before bouncing away almost apologetically into another. Oops.

"Not after the mark I had to give you this morning," D'renn answers R'sli flippantly. "Except maybe I'd wager a mark or two that Lesh is feeling uncomfortable?" D'renn himself peels off his sweater hastily.

Tyara grabs Pyrene's hand instantly, happening to stand next to her. Her left hand reaches out towards the girl next to her, Quedista.

Auri swallows, and her grip on Quedista's hand tightens. "I'm a big girl, I'm a big girl…" she mummers under her breath in a continuous mantra. She looks at the eggs, gulps, and continues. "I'm a big girl…"

Liseria cries out with a startled "'Rene!" as her hand-partner suddenly bends. Following suit, the girl bows accordingly, whipping slightly-damp locks outta the way as she straightens. "Mmm, nice 'n warm…" SHe says that /now/.

Tovanis gives Siwillowy a little nudge as the eggs rock - poor girl ended up next to him, here too. "Lookit, they're moving…"

Tyrodinth watches the Candidates, eyes whirling swiftly despite his otherwise calm demeanor. Bow is watched, his expression rather lofty for once as he shifts a little, cradling his rider more securely. Yiddae is watching it all from her perch halfway up the brown side - she's sitting on a foreleg and leaning against her lifemate's shoulder. It does give her a good view at least.

Quedista feels the heat making her nautious. Or is ith the heat? She attempts to mask it as she steps quickly onto the sands, and lets Tyara grab her hand. She could use the extra support.

Lylia has trouble even remembering to breathe… at least this keeps her from noticing the heat at first. Eggs, dragons, crowds…. she sways a little, getting dizzy. Movement… oh my… "TyTyTyTy… Auri!" She looks from candidate to candidate, finally hopping next to Auri. "They're going to hatch!" Just state the obvious….

Maurin follows the rest, in line, obediantly, yet…nervously. But then again, that's nothing new for Maurin. His blue eyes widen to almost unnatural preportions, as he hadn't really been very close to the eggs before. Chores, y'know. Didn't have much time. Knuckles whiten as hands cling to each other, in front of him. Dragons. Big, big, oh so very big dragons. Eek. Scarey. Hopefully they won't bite…

Quara dances on the sands, filing out past Maurin to look nervously at the eggs. "And I did this before, too," she mutters, anxiety and stress taking their toll. She hears Auri's murmurings and takes the time to flash a wan smile to the young girl.

Pyrene sighs then - both desperately sweating hands held securely in those of her oh-so fortunate friends. "It's OK Auri" she calls over to the once-brat. Yes, perfectly fine… just a little hot. "Lis, Tya… none yet. No blues or anything." Good.

Mharida is wide eyed, head craning as she strains to take in all those in the galleries, all those on the sands. A pause, as she stands alone, unsure of what to do with herself, it seems. Then Tellia is spotted, and it is to that girl she makes her way, settling herself beside her to offer a grin.

Auri wiggles pink toenails in the sand. "I'm a big- Lylias! My wherry hasn't hatched yet. Will the draggies eat it?" Trust this time for Auri to think about /that/.

Gekoki straightens from her bow, having gotten past that small obstacle. Only about twenty-two more to go; her hand tightens on Lylia's, as if to claim support against falling over in the intense heat. "It's happening!" is her strangled squeak.

Khayet glances to Maurin. Here we go again……But this time, Khayet remembers to shift from one foot to the other, if a great deal slower in tempo than the others.

Frosh Day Egg is right there, in it's special spot beneath it's dam's gaze. It wiggles. Twitches. And then stills for now.

Shaela sighs, her words of response to L'shil forgotten as the Candidates make their way onto the Sands. "They all look so cute and /nervous/!" she squeals, immediately hunting for the delicate young form of Petita. "Aww, look, Lesh. Petita." Just so long as Petita doesn't look back at Lesh - the sight might scar her forever.

Tyara sends Lylia a worried glance. A little pale, isn't she? Pyrene and Quedista get a quick glance. "Which d'you think'll hatch first?" comes the breathy question, the rocking eggs being watched closely by the nanny-candidate.

Tellia gazes up into the Stands, eyes sweeping the assembled crowd without ever quite settling on a particular face. "Ohhh…" she mutters quietly. "Mharida!" The Herder struggles to return the grin, hand really shaking now as it reaches for Mhari's. Comfort. Have to have comfort on the Sands…

Siwillowy slides away from bow and Dragons, backing up into a candidate here, a candidate there. "Oops. Pardon me. Scuse me. Sorry about that. By Faranth it is hot - oh look at that! They move." She prattles on regardless of anyone listening or not.

"no, no, don't worry about that. Just worry about…. well, everything else." Lylia's eyes nearly bug out. Did one just move? Whatwhatwhat?! Suddenly she notices the heat, and nearly bites through her lower lip. Time for the dance of the barefoot candidate.

Quedista shakes her head rapidly, swallowing the scream that would have come out in place of words had she opened her mouth. She simply squeezes Tyara's hand harder. Not to mention Auri's…

Liseria doesn't mind the sweaty-hand thing, as she's a perpetrator of the same crime. "Tya! Hiya!" she calls, hand waving towards the girl, cooling her head in the meantime. Party, bonus. "Eee," Lis comments to Pyrene, "the Sands're hotter with bare feet." Still, she doesn't hop yet, just shuffles grains back and forth over feet.

Solar Eclipse Egg rests quiet, its darkness not yet moving.

Pyrene jerks her head at the frosh day egg. "That one… it's had all that extra insulation after all." Namely her robe - or the first attempt at it. Dratted broody mothers. Lis gets a nanny-ish look. "You've only yourself to blame."

Mharida grins as her fingers tighten around Tellisa's for a moment, eyes lighting upon a figure in teh gallieries, oen hand going up in a wave. "Tellia, there's my cousin. I wonder if she came for me, or the food I made for afterwards," she comments with a soft laugh, not at all uneasy, it seems. After all, she's a cook really, not a candidate.

Quara's thick-soled sandals have coatings of dye on them, as well, and yet they still can't block that everpresent heat. Struggling to present a mature, calm face to the eggs and the assembled crowd, as one of the older Candidates, her features alternate between nervous anticipation and stony emotionlessness.

In a time of fear, Auri will follow orders blindly. Any orders. Just then, Auri-personality kicks in as she notices her hand…covered in sweat. With a wrinkle of her nose, she searches for her hankie, then remembers she doesn't have it. She sighs, leans over, and rubs her hand in the sands, keeping an eye on the eggs.

L'shil chuckles. "I see her, Shae. Think her lifemate will be here, this time? D'renn, that's no wager, that's reality. I was fine until they pointed out I wasn't dressed properly, though!"

Tyara gasps slightly as her feet finally seem to sense the heat beneath them. "Ahh, hot, hot," she winces, starting on that special Candidate-dance. "Lis!" she calls out, smiling past Pyrene to the girl. Her eyes skip to /the/ egg soon though, watching it closely. Why isn't it moving??

Full Moon Egg gleams, as bright and full as any winter moon. Its shell just barely quivers, betraying the traquil shadows belying the dragonet inside. From the rattling and battling of the egg, he is not at all tranquil.

Chayath grets each Candidate with a critical whirl of her eyes, and curls the Frosh Day Egg a little tighter in towards herself. There is enough room for it to crack in time, but for now, it is held close, protected.

Pyrene flicks a glance to the galleries and nudges Tyara. "See the brats? Hoping desperately that we'll both Impress…" she points out with a certain degree of smugness, even if she shares their sentiment fully.

Gekoki looks sharply over at Lis. "Well, you brought it on yourself," she says, "After all, you were so eager to be traditional…" She shuffles her sandaled feet - her footwear gives her a fingertip in height, yet the Sands are still breathtakingly hot… If she was holding her breath for the Sands before, could she possibly hold it more? If it's possible, she does when the eggs start shaking in earnest.

Quedista's breath quickens so that she's now gasping for air. She tells herself to calm down, and Auri's sweaty hand suffers once more.

Tellia allows a soft smile now, trying to follow Mhari's wave and pick out a face in the Galleries. "Where? Oh, nevermind. I'll never be able to pick out a single person, anyway." She shakes her head, blinking several times. "Ooh, it's hot out here… How can you see /anything/?" First one sandal, then the other is raised and given a quick shake before it's dropped back to the Sands.

Shifting from brown-clad feet to gold-clad and back again, Tyara smirks at Pyrene and glances up into the galleries. "I see 'em," she grins, happy to find something else than the eggs to concentrate on. For now.

Liseria lets out a huff at Pyrene, in spite of herself. "Well, /really/." Trying to take her mind off the burning of feet, she picks out favorite eggs among the clutch. Eyes glance at those ever-moving eggshells. If they crack soon, Lis'll get off the sands all the faster. As it is, sweat is starting to stain…places.

"Tellia, I didn't teach you how to juggle, maybe we should do that?" Nervously, and twitching quite a bit, Lylia throws her gaze towards another candidate, hopping foot to foot. Hot hot hot! "Or not?" Again, she giggles nervously. Eep.

Roaring Drunk Egg continues to play the staggering fool, knocking randomly against its neighbours, gradually increasing the seriousness of the cracks which mar its colourful surface.

Auri does something, anything to try and calm herself down. With one pale little foot, she makes a pile of sand, in an attempt to bury the other foot. She squeaks as the heat of the sand is brought out even more, and proceeds to stand still like a good little girl, reattaching herself to Quedistas's hand.

Tovanis waves an arm towards the moving eggs. "Look at that one, what d'you think?" he badgers everyone.

Pyrene is sweating herself, her own odour masking Liseria's. "Well… you've been here before… you know what it's like." She flashes a grin at Tyara - scared and asking for moral support, but a grin nonetheless. Just another hatching… they happen all the time.

Helston Flora Dance Egg shifts. Just flowers turning in the wind. No hurry yet.


Roaring Drunk Egg lurches, smacking a clutchmate as it rolls. Oh, hey. Sorry about that. Once more, and minute cracks appear, that party facade fading as the shadows within grow darker…and emerge in a shower of shards.

Vampiric Teetotaller Brown Dragonet
Night descends on the dragon's pale, buff hide, to cast shadows over the majority of the ghostly surface. Scarlet splatters his muzzle, blood-red smears his neck; faded tan lingers amongst the shades of his torso, darkening the great hills that are blunt neckridges and settling upon an elongated tail. Mystery and intrigue reign amidst his complexity of razor talons and sharp teeth, yet a softer side is revealed in the sandy glistening of sweeping wings. Innocence too is evident in the serene sunlight-touched beige of his headknobs, abstaining from the drunken revelry that otherwise makes for fanged, feral ferocity.


Tellia chuckles softly, the sound coming out almost giddily. "I don't think now would be the best time for that, Lylia!" she calls over the cracks and voices. "How can you juggle when you can't even keep your feet under you??"

Siwillowy finally stops apologizing and finds a sacred circle near one of the eggs. "There. I will just wait here. Right here. Just here." And so she deos. Occasionally her hand fumble along her simple white skirts, smoothing them down in nervous folds.

Full Moon Egg moves again. Ah. Fanged, feral ferocity. That's good. Lets follow that: bang bang bang. The hatchling fights harder to get out.

Khayet eases his way over towards Auri, murmering, "Try doing your dance, just with out the music and kicks….."

Maurin edges to the far edge of the semi-circle of Candidates, partly behind a fellow Candie. He's…shy? After all, everything's dwarfing him, including the eggs, which are nearly as tall as he. "Maurin!" The boy he's hiding behind nudges him firmly into view. View. Specticle. People! Eek! Wide blue gaze flickers towards the galleries, looking rather terrified. He doesn't like being watched…Crack. Egg. Shatter. Eek. Lapis lazuli wrought gaze flits back to the first hatched. "Brown!" A voice breaths, that voice belonging to the boy he had been temporarily hiding behind. Brown.

Tyara watches the moving egg carefully, until.. "It hatched," she gasps, hand tightening it's grip on Quedista's noticeable. "Ohh, a brown!" As if it wasn't obvious to everyone..

Liseria peers over in Tovanis' direction, brows raising in a coy, nosy sort of way. "Which?" she asks of the boy, giving him a curious stare… which quickly shifts towards a goey lil' brown. "Pyrene, it's a brown." The hand-holding hand is tugged on. Need to get 'Rene's attention.

Quara grows vaguely used to the heat, and her shuffling step slows down a bit as she smiles a satisfied smirk at Liseria's comments. "Serves her right, that high-nosing crafter," she mumbles, audible only to those directly beside her. She eyes the rolling egg, gasping involuntarily as it shatters open. "Oh! Why, it looks to be drunk, it does," is remarked louder. She would know.

Mharida is managing to sty graceful at this point, shifting slowly from one foot to the other, fingers still wrapped firmly around Tellia's. An interested 'ooh' escapes her, and she points rather nedlessly to the dragonet. "Look, the first!"

Auri blinks and stares as the dragonet appears. Something between a cry of joy and a whimper emerges from her mouth unbidden. Dance? Auri follows orders. Little feet kick tentatively above the sands, eyes fixated on the strange brown dragonet.

"Very carefully?" Hey, it's how Lylia always does it. "But…. AUGH! BROWN!" The shriek rises out of the panicking candidate's throat. "Look look!" She nearly attacks the next candidate. "A brown!"

Frosh Day Egg is secure. Smug almost as it waits for a time, when it's quite ready to break as it should. But striations steal over the surface, gentle hints of the pressure within.

Tovanis gives Lis a one-shouldered, careless shrug. "Yep, it's brown."

Pyrene jumps and sighs with relief. "Brown! See it? I knew it! Brown!" That's a good omen, and she tugs on hands. OK, so she was wrong baout which egg would hatch, but she'll choose not to bring that up.

Shaela chews her lip nervously and slips her hand into that of the brownrider's, "I'm not sure. For her sake, I hope so." Violet gaze is set on the petite young Candidate once more, and the goldrider sighs. "Lesh, you really do look awful." She gets back to the topic at hand.

Gekoki giggles nervously at Tovanis, "Which one? Oh!" That last word is a squeal as a dragonet explodes onto the Sands. Brown. "Brownbrownbrown." Her levity is belied by her grip on Lylia's hand, her own hand white with the effort.

Quedista intakes another breath sharply, mangaging to squeak out, "Tyara! IT's a-hatchling!" Obviously. But apparently it's the only thought that there's room for in Quedista's mind at the moment.

Khayet looks up, "Oh, handsome, isn't he?"

Tyrodinth rumbles softly, welcoming his first son to the open world. Encouraging him too - 'go on, find your lifemate' seems to be contained in that rumble.

Auri will /not/ let this disappoint her. So it's a brown. It's not /too/ brown. Therefore, she doesn't mention it. "It's a perty draggie…" she ventures, her usual ear-blasting voice lowered to a shrill whisper. She does a shuffle hop, following Khayet's advice, clutching wildly at Quedista's hand.

Tyara grins weakly at Quedista, eyes not leaving the brown hatchling. "Oh, I never realized they were so…" She is unable to find words and just stares at the brown hatchling. "So.. wonderful," she finally concludes.

Liseria gives Tovanis one more look, brows raised again disdainfully. "Uh-huh." Quara only gets a glare; Lis doesn't have to hear her to know what she's saying. Toes kick and sand again, flaunting their bare-ness while trying to cool themselves.

Tellia nods breathlessly at Mhari, giving the brown the once-over before turning her gaze once more to the Stands. Surely she knows someone up there… "Oh, lookit!" She squeezes the other Candidates hand, pointing up at a particular section of the Galleries. "There're some of the people from the Hall! Cristen, and… Oh, my friends're here!" Of course, the rest of Pern is here, too, but she's just ignoring that for the time being.

Lylia hopes she doesn't squeeze poor Gekoki's hand off. She's a bundle of energy, feet hoping, hand clutching…. "Loook.." Now her words are only a whisper, her eyes darting around. All her friends. Here. And eggs. "This is happening… this is happening…."


Full Moon Egg rests quiescent no longer. Now. It is time. A silvery shadow gleams along the curve of the shell, expanding in the form of silvery cracks that spiderweb across the sky. A howl, somewhere, pierces the stillness, and then, the moon rises in a glittering eruption, and its lone occupant steps forth.

Reluctant Werewolf Blue Dragonet
A wolf in dragon's clothing is he, from his overbite's protruding fangs to the expressive twitch of his waggly, woogly tail. Each movement defines him as predator-incarnate: each lupine line draws out the muscular coil of withers and haunch, marking the skulking lines of belly, lower legs, and oh-so-quiet paws. Wings are low and lean, held close to his well-spiked spine; their sails are alight with the pale wash of the full moon. As if heeding an instinctive, tenacious call, acrid blue howls as cerulean-smoke, curling and coiling from the shadows about his sharp-taloned feet to the tip of his twitching muzzle.


Chayath tears her gaze from her favoured egg to scan the infantile image of the brown dragonet, her first. A mother's proud approval is given, and a croon of encouragement. Go, find your mate.

Pyrene manages to calm down again. Brown, yes. We've figured that out now. She nudges Tyara absently, "Ugly aren't they when they hatch? Not wonderful at all… oh, ugh. Blue… And oh…" She doesn't like that one. "Reminds me of Wiranth somehow."

L'shil hisses, pleased, to the other riders. "Brown. Good sign, that. Right, Yiddae?" Smirking he isn't, quite, but his grin is edged by it as he momentarily forgets his dilemma - until Shaela comments on it again. "I didn't want to come like this," he mutters, "but I didn't want to not be here to support you just becuase I couldn't find my Hatching-Day outfit. I'm sorry. You got first priority. I didn't even stop to think before coming."

Mharida peers up to the galleries obligingly, venturing a small wave, aimed in the general direction Tellia indicates. "How nice of them all, to come and see us." She seems almost bemused at the situation she finds herself in, eyes darting this way and that. "And another, look. They're all coming now."

Tovanis points out, "That one's blue." It's obvious, isn't it? And he glances towards Pyrene, because, well, so does everyone else, most likely.
Tyara giggles as soon as the blue hatches. "Oh, Pyrene, a blue!" she says, loud enough for it to be heard over the general noise. "But really, isn't he pretty??"

"Ooooh, a blue," D'renn approves. Of course.

Quedista gasps as another spills forth, and her hand and face drain of all color as she grips both hands that she's holding, now unable to breath at all. She would comment on it, but without breath, that's difficult.

Quara snorts at Khayet's comment. "No, he's dead drunk is what he is. And I thought I'd left drunks at Keroon, too," she adds, the latter quieter than her sally. "There, now, that's a much better dragon," she adds, satisfactorily, as the next hatchling is blue. "He's like Gavin. Only… not as dancy." She smiles to the fellow, patently ignoring the brown in his favor.

"Pyreeene!" Lylia winks at the nanny-candidate from across the sands, her eyes now darting between the blue hatchling and the brown. "Whoa…." Who knew they'd hatch so fast? Or at least it seems so to her.

Blue. Blueblueblue. Breathless, Maurin watches, forgetting the heat searing the soles of his feet through his thin sandals.

Helston Flora Dance Egg rolls a bit, sand piling in its wake as it rocks away from its brothers. Soon.

Pyrene sends glares all round at whoever maybe looking at her. "No." Never going to happen. But she steps back a little… just in case.

Liseria tries the strategy of stepping on her robe's hemline, but as soon as she can get barely one toe on, an unnerving 'rrrrip' forces her to abandon that approach quickly. Her hand just squeezes Pyrene's, a muttered comment of 'Scary' passed to her fellow Candidate.

Khayet chuckles a bit to Quara, "Dizzy, not drunken…..

Tellia swallows convulsively, turning back to the Hatching now that she's recognized someone. And seen how big the crowd is - and she's in plain sight, too… "Yeah. First a brown, and now a blue - " The girl cuts off, glancing about the Sands again. "But when're the greens gonna Hatch?"

Auri's little mouth opens in an 'o' shape. A blue. "Blues are perty…" she says. Unconsciously, eyes dart to Pyrene. Didn't Nanrene say they were evil though? She shrinks closer to the candidate next to her in fear. "Please don't eat me or my wherry…" she whispers.

Reluctant Werewolf Blue Dragonet joins the dark brown on the hunt and lands out of his egg on paws so big and quiet. He starts forward, pauses, scents the air, and then prowls forwards with a happy low growling: hunthunthunthunthunt. Candidates are such easy prey.

Gekoki shivers, and then bursts out again, throttling that poor hand of Lylia's, "Another one! And it's a blue." Of course, she looks over to Pyrene, whose opinions on blues are well-known. And she wasn't at the first Hatching, so she didn't get to see. She starts the Candidate dance almost unconsciously; up until now she'd been concentrating on standing still…

Tyara chuckles in Lylia's direction, then grins to the the other Candidates. At least those who knows Pyrene's approach towards blues.. Quedista's hand is clutched forcefully, although the nanny-Candidate's face is rather calm compared to some.

Frosh Day Egg trembles then, shivering as hairline cracks creep exorably over its pale shell.

Vampiric Teetotaller Brown Dragonet tumbles from his shell, and quickly gets to his feet, sturdy for one so young. Tail lashes, hesitant at first, a test, gaining confidence. A soft croon of greeting to his parents, again, unsure, then increasing in volume. And then, he sets his infant gaze on the sea of white.

Solar Eclipse Egg is silent still in its blackness, immobile and unthreatening.

Quedista takes a large breath to compensate for all those which were missed. "Oh, Tyara, they're hatching." is gasped as she makes the astute observation. She doesn't even notice the pressure on her hand as she watches the eggs.

Mharida grins, indicating a couple of eggs with a general wave of her hand. "Some of them're small, so they'll probably be f greens, I suppose. They'll come." Those dragonets who have hatched are watched with interest, their movements tracked until some other distractions takes her attention.

Siwillowy was watching the brown warily, her fingers idly making a cross beneath her teh folds of her robes. But it is the blue that chatches her attention and she sucks in a low breath of appreciation. "Oh he is sooooooo handsome", she croons to nearby Tovanis. "Don't you think he's handsome?"

Tyara nods at Quedista's words. They are, aren't they? But the dark one still isn't moving.. green eyes flick from blue to brown hatchling, eager to see who they'll choose.

Quara chuckles. "He's more ferocious, to be certain," she remarks, to whoever will listen. "Wonder what 'e's hunting for? Or who, rather," she appends, before she eyes the brown again. "Huh. What's he waiting for?" she murmurs.

Tellia raises her free hand to her face, giggling somewhat nervously. "Ooh, that blue… Is he /growling/?" She shakes her head once. And she thought all dragons could do is croon and creel… "Greens had better come - they're pretty!" But of course, she doesn't have a preference of anything…

Pyrene keeps one eye on brown, one on blue… leaning toward brown - and /away/ from blue. "And if that blue comes this way we're /moving/," she murmurs to Tya and Lis. "I'm not giving D'renn the pleasure of seeing me mauled by one."

Tovanis loiters, shifting from one sandal to the other, just watching. Blue and brown… Hmm.

Reluctant Werewolf Blue Dragonet continues moving forwards to music only he can hear. A step this way, a sidle along and around and egg, a quick burst of speed towards a group of candidates and then shying away from them at the last minute. No. Not quite right. Not quite.

Liseria snickers - politely, of course - at Siwillowy's mooning over that blue. Then, attention turns to Pyrene. "Aye, it's fierce-looking. And I wouldn't want you to get /mauled/, Pyrene!" she adds with a cheery chirp. Strange child, yep.

Helston Flora Dance Egg shifts again, minute crack feathering along its curve.

Siwillowy repeats for herself then, regardless of Tovanis. "He /is/ handsome." Not like some people.

Tyara smirks in Pyrene's direction, tilting her head at the blue hatchling. "Aww Py, but he's so pretty," she repeats, "he doesn't look like he could maul anyone." Well he does, but no reason telling Pyrene that..

Quedista holds her head up higher than usual, now that she's gained her breath, she's decided to make herself not look nervous. Not that it's working as her hand muscles give out, and she can only loosely hang onto Auri and Tya.

D'renn wouldn't /really/ want to see Pyrene mauled, and he's keeping a sharp eye on both the blue and the brown. "What d'you think, R'sli? Want to swap jobs after all?"

Gekoki shivers at the talk of hunting. She wasn't really aware that that was part of what Candidacy entailed. Maybe if she were to stand very still - like so - they won't notice her. It only works if her partners help her, though. Through teeth clenched with the effort of not hopping about in pain, she mutters to Lylia and the Candie on her other hand, "Don't move… Please? Don't let them hurt me…"

"I'm a big girl…" Auri begins once more, then looks up at Quedista. "But the draggies are bigger. Will they hurt us, Queddie? They're too pretty to hurt us, I think."

Khayet glances again to Maurin, then down the line. Have to be sure no one falls out. Ok, so it's not really his job, but it give him something to do. Well, other than watching where that tricky blue dashes to and from.

Lylia meeps slightly, hoping to survive the evening without throttling a fewllow candidate. The blue, it's moving, it's searching…. the brown is on the hunt too? Suddenly, she jumps higher, trying to ignore the pain in her bare feet. "Gekoki…. what do you think will be next?" Yes, keep her mind off the moment. She does put a hand on Geko's shoulder. "Don't worry. We can hide behind the others." Logic, really.

Quara is tense as a harpstring with nerves as the pair eye the crowd, and she shuffles a bit further from Liseria, an icy glare cast in the other's direction. Sad, to spare time from the Hatching for petty fights, but she does.

Pyrene favours Siwillowy with a bemused glance. Handsome?? "He's not pretty Tya - he's wrinkled and covered in egg-goo. Even that brown's not pretty right now." she shifts again, gripping those hands tightly. Blood circulation? Who needs it!

Vampiric Teetotaller Brown Dragonet scans the pale offering before him - come, come, there must be something with a little /colour/ to it - before taking his first prowling steps towards the nearest human. A scan of the tiny Candidate, and he determines that no, Petita is definitely not the one - not enough life in her. Moving right along..

"If Pyrene impresses, then I'll rethink it," the Weyrsecond replies with a grin.

Tyara's hand is squeezing Quedista's hand too firmly for it to be loosely holding. She glances past Quedista to smile at Auri. "They won't hurt you, Auri, don't worry."

"Favourably, or not?" D'renn tries to pin R'sli down, pulling the ends of his green shirt out of his checked trousers, and flapping them to stay cool.

Tellia's hold on Mharida's hand gradually gets tighter, fingers squeezing a bit more with every hop of her feet. Any tighter and her knuckles are gonna turn white… "Ohhh… Can you believe this is happening?" Or did she say that once already? Ah well, doesn't matter. Nice to be redundant sometimes, right?

Liseria finally succumbs to the heat of the Sands, feet alternately digging and flinging sand depending upon how hot her patch of it is getting. Eyes recieve the glare from Quara, but Lis is too busy trying to be ready if anything bareing claws/teeth/anythingsharp comes her way.

Quedista smiles reassuringly down at Auri. "Well, I don't know. They certainly look capable of mauling us." So her words weren't as reassuring as her smile, but she cannot tell a lie.

R'sli grins, and winks. "Well, if it's any color but blue, you've got a swap," he says, fanning himself with his book.

Auri nods knowingly, pink bows bobbing. "I knew it. They're much too pwitty. That oneth kinda pink, ithent it Queddie?" She says, pointing at the brown. Hmm…the temporary lisp is back, which means Auri must be /really/ nervous.

Quara snorts as the brown passes the wan childing over, her own bright scarlet curls bobbing as she does. "I doubt that one'd Impress a firelizard, much less a dragon." Her cynical tone is quite nasty, but a thread of stress underlies it, implying a source of her scorn inside herself.

Mharida laughs, her free hand battng at Tellia's in an effort to gree up some circulaton. "Don't squash my hand," is hissed good humouredly at her companion, the baker's feet shifting up and down carefully, until one kicks sand into the sandal of the other. Then she resorts to the age old candie dance to try and rid herself of the stuff.

Frosh Day Egg trembles some more, rocking irritably. Not much longer, not much longer at all.

Lylia wishes for sleeves on her robe, for something to chew on. Suddenly, she calls over to another candidate. "Lis! I don't suppose bare feet was the best idea, huh?" A wry grin does creep up her face. It /seemed/ like a good idea…

Gekoki pries her eyes from the brown and the blue momentarily, just to scan the eggs. After a second, she says, "Oh, I don't know. That little one that Chayath likes?" as she fastens her eyes back to either the blue or the brown. It changes intermittently.

Vampiric Teetotaller Brown Dragonet patrols the row of Candidates, dismissing each one in turn for whatever reason - he's getting desperately hungry, now. And though some may try to hide, he will find: keen senses and the site of something red attract him to one group of girls. Yes, The One is in here.

Maurin returns Khayet's glance nervously, almost anxiously. Hands are probably a pulp now, as Maurin have been clutching them infront of him since they dragons began a-thrumming. Knuckled are white from force of his grip, blending in with his somewhat spotless robe. Whispers run up and down the semi-circle of Candidates, skipping right over Maurin, as he is obviously not the chitter chatter type, keeping his mouth tightly and politely closed.

Pyrene glances over to Auri, keeping half a mind on her former charge. Good child's going for brown… she trained her well. "Oh.. he's getting closer," she murmurs, eyes alight with the first hope of the hatching.

Siwillowy is watching the weyrwolfish dragonet and goes "Ooo! Look out!" Instinctively she steps in front of the little blue and the candidate, even if the candidate don't thin he's handsome. /She/ does. She finds herself face to face with the dragonet. "Yer not so wrinkly…"

Tovanis is clearly relieved - that brown's not stalking him. Running a hand back through his sweaty mop of curls, he scans the girls. Which one?
Tyara is glad she's wearing sandals, that's for sure. Even if they don't help much.. "Hmm, think he's coming this way," she asks Pyrene, her throat suddenly dry.

Liseria widens her eyes percievebly - at both Quara and Lylia. "Why, how could you even-" Luckily for the rest of those in earshot, Lis has the sense to clap her mouth shut, or at least in front of People Who Know Her. "But it's /traditional/ Lylia. And it's not that bad… really." Just don't look at how red they're getting.

Helston Flora Dance Egg twitches, and jumps just a bit. Very soon, now.

"Oh. Sorry, Mhari!" Tellia forces herself to loosen her grip slightly, transferring the nervousness to her breathing instead, which suddenly becomes rather heavy and loud even in her own ears. "But this is only my third time on the Sands, you know." She draws in her breath suddenly, eyes flicking to the brown. "Ooh, look - I think he knows who he wants…"

Reluctant Werewolf Blue Dragonet had not thought to maul anyone… hrm.. there's an idea. He skirts around in behind a group of candidates and eyes someone pale and skinny and awkward. Nice braid. Hrm… not off to the mall, but off to the mauling? He moves in… and finds himself nose to nose with Siwillowy. Hey. Git out of the way. You're ruining a good mauling.

"Could be Geko…" Lylia nods, remembering the littlest egg moving. More movement makes her eyes twist around. The brown's still hunting. "Yeah, I know Lis… 'least it's a good distraction." And it is. Jumping does keep her mind off things.

Siwillowy will not and does not move. Nope. She stands her ground, the little blue stands his, and they face off for a long, /long/ moment.

Quedista shakes her head a bit too quickly. "no, no, Auri, brown, not pink." She attempts to recall anything else she's heard, but the whole things seems a blur of white sound.

Quara eyes the brown again. "Oh, no. You're as bad a leech as Durron, aren't you?" she asks it rhetorically, obviously not expecting an answer. "I know your type, saw 'em in the tavern every day, nearly." She rambles on, chattering to drive away the nerves that come, inevitable as the heat.

Pyrene sighs in relief as Siwillowy heroically intercepts the blue. "Look, look at Siwillowy…" she nudges those right and left, "I think we just lost another…" But better her than Pyrene, right?

Tovanis turns around…. and growls. "Siwillowy?" That's one good girl gone….

Tyara squeezes Quedista's hand some more - surely it must be going numb soon - as the blue walks really close to that girl. "Oh, look," she breaths, nudging Quedista as Pyrene nudges her.

Reluctant Werewolf Blue Dragonet is drawn in to those green eyes, even as he draws his Willow into his own wilder swirling eyes. Caged. Caught. Impressed.

Khayet quirks a smile of encouragement to Maurin, but then turns just enough to watch the darting blue and shift a long wave of his hair out of his face. Maybe not braiding it today was a bad idea, after all.

Reluctant Werewolf Blue Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Siwillowy, and steps forward.

Vampiric Teetotaller Brown Dragonet is pleased with any style of robe so long as it leaves the neck pleasantly bare. He nears, slowly at first, then with a viciously quick step he offers himself in an oddly comic baring of fangs to Lylia: this one has everything he needs, and more.
Vampiric Teetotaller Brown Dragonet turns his jewel faceted eyes toward Lylia, and steps forward.


Part 2

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License