Hatching Log

Friday, October 26, 2001 Candidate Barracks
This vaguely rectangular room contains cots, cots, and more cots, which either stand in neat, pristine rows, a clothespress at each foot, or in jumbled confusion, depending on the current residents. Metal brackets mark the smooth walls every four cotlengths, hosting shieldable glows that, when open, shine gentle circles on the low ceiling and worn floor. A desk holds a prominent place at the back of the room, opposite the lower caverns' exit and below the large slateboard that lists the room's 'occupants' and their assigned chores. Beside the slate hangs a wide 'tackboard', pinned full of important notices for the candidates to read.

OOC Note: Be sure to 'look tackboard' & 'look occupants' for more information.
You see Vana, Jayed, Twyll, Fanel, Amadeus, Fas, Ulfric, Neijin, Thanatos, Goober, Diamond, Robie, Neko, Cephas, Nat, Kozuye, Barnum, Sharne, Legerdemain, Mia, Rill, Lil Bit, Volcano, Kaworu, Rei, King, Snicker, Slime, Lady, Shaoyi, Anubis, and Rhia Doll here.
Luchesi, Nonam, Razel, Gabriela, Menacion, Aryion, Kishairyn, Fynelox, Thanial, Maeko, Anki, Cera, M'lan, and V'len are here.
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns

Striding into the barracks, a chipper voice (that sort you want to /hit/ someone for when they speak that way in the morning!) calls out, "Guess what happens now? The eggs are rocking." M'lan's voice is ironic, as he comes in with V'len, the two bronzeriders shoulder to shoulder. "Time for you to change...hop to it."

Menacion snores. Loudly. The guard has fallen back into the restful state of the completely oblivious to the world. Back turned to the room, he's slightly curled up to keep his feet from hanging off the end of the cot. Snooooore.

Maeko emits a little snort as she leans to the side, resting her head in her hands as she raises an eyebrow at Kisha. "Shardit, it could be any /day/. Sevenday or so, perhaps, but still.. it's closer than ever. I just.. don't know." Shrug. Sigh. Shift. Fidgit. She's got an anxious personality, 'nuff said. She simply can't hold herself still. Oh, wait, there's M'lan. "Er.. well. Maybe not a sevenday." Grrf.

Cera sits on her own cot, a large patchwork quilt spread all around her. Frantically, the women is sewing with great determination. It appears, that only one corner of the binding needs to be stitched, and then the quilt is done.

"What the ...?" Kishairyn demands, nearly putting her needle through sleeve. "They're not allowed to hatch. I've got to fix this seam ..." She peers at it frantically, whipping through a few long, clumsy stitches and yanking it off with a sharp tug. "Shaffit," she groans. "Someone stand on one side of me and hide this, will you?"

M'lan receives a Look from Anki, but she moves obediently enough to get dressed in her robe. If her Candidates haven't gotten used to her skin by now, there's no hope for them. "You're just cheerful because you know you'll be going out there with nice, sturdy boots," she accuses. Sandals are slipped on before she sits down to lace them up.

So much for Razel's calm demeanor and promised words, hmm? Blinking, she looks up at M'lan as he enters. "But.. but.. I thought they said that it'd probably be another sevenday or so!?!" The teen suddenly has this frantic look cross her features, and Snicker is quickly put aside as robe is pulled closer.. "I mean.. We need time to .. ah.. prepare, don't we?" Of course, as she speaks, tunic and trous are slowly dissapearing to be replaced with the white garment.

Aryion is feeding his new flit when M'lan enters. "What? Now." Shards.. he sets down the brown on his pillow and stands to examine his robe and himself. Clean and smelling good. Now.. deep breaths..in.. and out..in and out..

Fynelox sits up in on his cot with eyes big as saucers. "Now??" A soft yelp and the boy tears his eyes from the riders that just came in and starts searching for his robe as he hops out of bed. "It was here a moment ago, where did I put it?" Looks like he's taken to talking to himself now. Okay, nobody feed him any candy, he might need higher brain function right now.

Gulp. Gabriela peers up from the book in her lap toward M'lan. "He's kidding, right?" she whispers to the nearest candidate. "He has to be kidding." She nods toward Kish, pointing. "Yeah... can't they like... wait a few?" She's not entirely serious. "We don't want a half-naked Kisha out there!"

Nonam has always been an early riser. And this morning is no different, as he sits, crosslegged on his cot, sewing steadily on his robe, Mk II. So it's a good thing he's at least got it out. "What?" He asks, his face turning red. "Now?" That would mean...he has to be naked in front of all these people.

V'len is beaming. Just beaming. The proud clutchdaddy to be looks a bit nervous, though, eyeing the candidates. This is it... it's this motley crew that will be blessed with offspring of the Magnificent Yevgeth. "You'd best get into those robes toot sweet! This instant!" Hands are wringing together, and he takes a deep breath. "I do hope enough of you will prove suitable."

Thanial looks up from the think that is supposed to be a robe in front of him. "Now?!?" And now Nial hops to it, literally, jumping up and racing to his clothspress in search of his shoes, robe clutched in his hands and dragging slightly on the floor. He's not panicking, he's not... everything's fine. Fine. Really.

The sudden uproar that arises in the room causes Menace to awake with a sudden snort. "Hrmm? Whaa?" Eggs rocking? Oh...boy. "I'm not changing /here/. Give me a few minutes and I'll be back." He flops out of his cot and rummages around underneath, trying to find the robe.

Well. Poor Menacion. M'lan isn't by any means one to coddle. So he strides to Menacion, and starts to kick him. But stops. Aww. He managed to wake up. Disappointment. M'lan points out, "Just change, and hop to it. We have to get you out there when the time comes." His voice is crisp.

Kishairyn drags her robe messily over her head and gives it a decisive tug, looking relieved as she examines the fit. She's decent, not that it would bother her all that much. She gives it another jerk to straighten it ... and utters a strangled coughing sound as something snaps. Something not visible, thankfully. She kicks into her sandals with no further ado, too busy - quite frankly - worrying about her apparel to think any further than that.

Taire slips into the barracks, eyes absolutely wild. "Did you here what they're saying? Saying that it actually happening. /Now/!" Apparently her news is rather belated as all the candidates seem to be coming to grips with the fact that the eggs are about to hatch. She blinks for a long moment before winding her away about the prompting riders to find her way back to her cot. Maybe she could curl up underneath it? Maybe the sound of those ordering voices will get her to strip and toss on that robe.

Cera flicks her gaze up as she bites off some thread, and finally blinks. "What?" she asks through clenched teeth. "Now? But... they can't! I mean... I just want to make sure everything's just right..." In weaver mode, Cera looks around, tucking the needle away, safely, she thinks, on her cot, then spreads out the quilt, blue eyes looking over each square. Robe, schmobe... -THIS- is more important...

Taire
Shadow swathed is she, this svelte girl is but a wraith in form with her sinewy build and dusky features. A wealth of russet-stoked seal descends to just beyond her slim shoulders, tiny plaits tinkling with beads of silver and copper upon their ends to grant sparkle to her depths. Autumn's fallen beauty: sundered golds, jaded greens, and lost browns collect to pool in the irises of her feline-lilted eyes, rimmed with dark lashes and set well above dimpled cheeks. Figure is drawn with achieved height and the burgeoning curves of adolescence, but she is a daring sylph by all accounts with muscles borne of an active life and a silent grace not yet tamed.
With the glossy birthmark of new-worn cloth, robes of chaste alabaster drape along her length, lavish with the near nebulous folds that manage to irritate her bared ankles. Robe distends over Taire's chest 'til synched at the waist; the braided belt's nifty tasseled ends dangling to her flip-flop sandaled feet. Stitch's thread shimmers to silver-fine, lending an air of great care despite their deliberate hiatus from extravagance.
Taire looks to be in her late teens.
She is awake and looks alert.

Maeko rummages between blankets to find the 'carefully'-put-away robe, ignoring creases as she slips it over her head with ease. Sandals are kicked from underneath the cot, and tied sloppily- good, fine, until one falls off her foot completely. Shardit. Bending down, she laces more carefully, being sure to tie tight enough. Belt is wrapped thrice, in an attempt to use the extra length- all the while accompanied by mutterings, and grumbles under her breath consisting of confidence-boosters and ego-deflators. Hey, it's working- she's numb. Numb, numb, numb.

Gabriela pulls her robe off of the cot beside her, literally shaking as she slips into it, behind a partition, of course. Sandals are slowly slipped onto her feet before she finally lowers herself back onto the cot. "I... do... I don't... want to go." This girl is a bundle of nerves. Her eyes move from the bronzeriders to the candidates, as she bites her lip and shakes her head.

Holly is ready. She's got the robe, the sandals... all set! And she's not shy about changing quickly in front of everyone either. Smoothing her hair, she steps right in front. First.

Razel gets half an arm stuck in the robe, and then, finally, she's dressed. Forget hair, forget sandals.. She's going 'au naturel' .. Uneven hems hang just below her knees, and then teen hugs herself in semi-fear, semi-excitement. "I . . I . . I think I'm gonna be sick.." she finally gets out, her face looking quite /green/ at the moment.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Menace deprived M'lan of his entertainment. The world is going well. Victory immediately turns to rout. "Here? In front of everyone?" Well, every one /else/ is changing, so it's not so bad. That's the mantra he repeats as he pulls out the robe, a whiff of perfume escaping from the rolled-up thing. Ewww. It's Anki's perfume. Well, too late to change that now. With quick, hurried motions, Menace strips and slides quickly into the robe.

Yawn. Eh? Eggs hatching? Oh.. Luchesi is up and out of bed with the rest one, swallowing away a sudden frenzy of nervousness. And she was so confident /before/! Clothes are wildly shed as robe is dragged over her head and smoothed, slipper-shoes quickly replaced with sandals and pouch lovingly hidden beneath her sheets. "I'm... Ready.. I guess."

Nonam can't stand being naked in front of people. Especially people of the female persuasion. "H.....um...." Could everyone turn around please? Turning more red, as he realizes there is nothing he can do for it, he pulls off what he's wearing, and starts to pull on his robe and sandals. His face is, naturally, beat red. And he's trying to look at anything /but/ the other nude candidates.

Nonam eers. Changing candidates

Anki is, now that everything's too late to run away from, quite okay. She straightens and steps out to the 'line' that's forming, falling in anyplace that seems to have a spot open. Once there she merely stands, facial expression rather bland.

Cera drops Candidacy Quilt.

Thanial finds his sandals and lays them on the bed. Stripping, he pulls on the robe in one smooth motion and the sits on his cot and starts to lace up his sandals, a task easier said than done as his fingers shake slightly. Nervous, Nial? Never.

Fynelox finally finds his robe tucked away in the sewing basket he was using to finish it. Pulling it out, it looks...more or less wearable. He'll never be a weaver obviously, but it looks like it'll at least survive till the end of the Hatching. Face burning a bit, he shucks off his clothing and pulls the robe on rather quickly. Last but not least, he adds in a pair of thin worn sandals.

Cera pats and presses the quilt, finally smiling, before looking back to M'lan and V'len, even as she takes some white fabric from beneath her cot and starts kicking off her boots. "Um, so... can we take this to Siani, since we're headed to the sands anyway..."

Taire is tugging on her thong sandals, toes wriggling to and fro to get used to the open-air environment as opposed to her usual boots. As her head comes up, gaze flickers up to the others to look from face to face at the various stages of alarm. Hands smooth down her sides as she comes to stand, wariness training the line of her features.

Maeko is anything but modest, at least taking no notice of anyone else as she smoothes down her rumbled hair, tying it once again away from her face. Aww, now the other sandal's fallen off- what to do, what to do. Such a frantic mess, everyone grabbing robes and hesitant to change in front of others.. but she's too anxious to think of that. Both her firelizards eye her warily from the safety of her cot, but a stern glare keeps them in their positions. No company, thankyouverymuch. 'lizard butts stay here.

Menacion falls into line behind Anki, studiously staring at the back of her head and scrupulously not looking at any other candidates. Especially those of female persuasion. "I don't see why we need to change /now/. Rocking doesn't mean they're hatching already... You could've let us out to change." He shifts his shoulders uncomfortably. Darn thing is tight. "Did you have to use so much perfume that time, Anki?" He complains. "My robe still smells of it."

M'lan simply watches all the harrying back and forth-- no really. His gaze is amused, as he shakes his head slowly, and murmurs to Menacion, "'cause we want to torture you of course." He waits patiently, arms crossed.

Kishairyn slides off her cot with a soft thud of her too-tight sandals, wrinkling her nose as she glances down at them. "Stories to tell for months," she mutters under her breath, coaxing herself, and then, "no maulings! No maulings, no maulings ..." She hops into a place in that line, pausing for a positively brilliant smile. She cards her fingers through her hair to straighten it. No time to bluff like the present.

Gabriela waves her hand in front of her face as perfume wafts toward her. She coughs lightly and then snickers at the healer. He should be used to nekkidness. As people start to form a line, Gabriela doesn't move. She remains on her cot, nearly shivering as she rubs her sweating palms on her thighs. She fidgets with the rope around her waist and bites her lip.

Aryion breathes in and out, stopping only after he starts swaying on his feet. "Okay.. its okay.." He grins at everyone, "well its here finally. My best wishes to everyone upon the Sands!" Seems his smile is now fixed upon his face for the time being as Aryion stands, caresses all his flits one last time and slides into line.

Razel suddenly realizes that /everyone/ else seems to be applying sandals to their feet. Green face goes from that color to.. ah.. purple, as she imagines the pain she'll suffer if she doesn't put something on her feet /now/! Therefore, she grabs an overly large set of sandals from some other candies cot, thanking him for the use of the extras. Laces tie up neatly, but the leather on her feet is quite thick. Finally, she drags herself into line.

Nonam just continues to wait at the back, closing his eyes until it's time to go.

"Shut up," Anki idly advises. "It smells great on me so I don't see what you're complaining about, Menace. Sides, you're breaking my concentration." Were Anki a hermit in High Reaches, she'd be humming calming mantras by now. Hands fold before her, white knuckles the only sight of stress.

Taire glances up in alarm as Kisha's words float over to her. "I... I thought they said that was rare?!" She gapes as all the old fears come crashing down. Nonononono. There shall be know Taire-blood spilt on those sands, so help her if she has to physically bop one of those dragons on the nose to keep it away from her.

Twyll trembles quietly in its bed of warm sand, seeming to burrow itself deeper within the protective grains. Twyll laughs. Whoops.

Cera sheds her vest, before pulling her arms out of her tunic. Still covered, despite that her arms are hanging under her tunic, Cera slides her robe overtop of her, pulling the tunic over her head out of the neck of the robe. Oooh, nice trick! With legs covered, Cera comfortably pulls off the trousers, before slipping on sandals. Tunic, vest, trous, all neetly folded, and set to the side, as Cera begins working on folding the quilt. Beaming is this former weaver, as she lovingly smooths and pats the folded fabric, before turning to look over at the rest of everyone, and with a great sigh, she sets the quilt down on her cot, next to the carefully folded clothing. Moving her boots to the base of the cot, Cera arches an eyebrow. Yes, everything is in order... except. Bending down, Cera pulls out another dress and sets it on the cot. She'll need that once the hatching is done and she goes back to Weaver Hall, of course.

Luchesi joins the crew lining up, hands nervously tugging at her robe. She tried it on before and it fit /fine/. Now it feels all wrong and icky. Feet are set to fidgeting as hands move to tug hair into place. She didn't get a chance to brush it and it surely looks terrible. "Maulings...?" Lu's face pales at that one. "But.. they don't /really/ do that..?"

Menacion snorts. "I knew there had to be a reason." This is like kicking an anthill and watching the ants boil out. No organization whatsoever. Sheesh. You'd think people would be more disciplined after several months waiting for this, but noooo. They aren't. "I think your view is slightly biased." He points out. "Concentration? Concentrating on what?" Menace is relaxed. After all, he /knows/ he's not Impressing out there. Glancing around, he eyes Gaby. "Come on. You aren't going to be sitting there while the rest of us die from heatstroke out there." He reaches out and grabs her arm, dragging her along.

Holly turns to Luchesi and nods seriously. "Maulings. I'm standing behind you." Indeed, the girl steps to the side, allowing the other girl the room in the front.

Anki nods quietly from her spot in the queue. "They do maul people. Mostly Candidates silly enough to stand in the way of a storming dragonet. Just don't get in their way and you'll be okay. Throw your fellow Candidates at them as a last measure effort," she suggests, voice tinted with dry humor.

Sanna has connected.

Thanial is ready and he stands up nervously, legs spread in a masculine stance while his arms are crossed over his chest. Better to look bold than nervous, yes? Still, he has a secret plan to shove Fyne in front of any questing dragonet. Better the Herder.

Gabriela blinks. She doesn't like this idea of maulings. More reason to stay right where she is. She shivers more, peering at those eagerly bouncing into line as she scrapes her sandaled toes against the ground. "But, Menace, I.... woaaah!" She peers at Menace, ducking beside him. "But I can't! I'mgonnapassoutIknowIwillandalltheheatandpeople, I'll just die out there!" Breathe, Gaby, breathe...

Watching everyone line up, M'lan says crisply, "All right everyone." He points, "Line up and out we go, everyone ready?" He turns to V'len.

Maeko slips into line somewhere in the middle; not too far front, not too far back- perfect medium, of course. Hands wring at each other, and she shifts from foot to foot already.. though it's from inability to stay still, rather than keeping the soles of her feet from scorching.. right now. Soon, however, it'll be the obvious. "Maulings?" A near exact echo of Luchesi's words, as she catches the conversation from one ear. Suddenly, nervousness is once again taking hold of the girl. "Maul.. ings?" She queries again, though half to herself- at least the majority of the healer hall will be attending. She'll be the one to get run over, sure enough.

Cera blinks as she walks over to the group lining up. "Maulings? What? No maulings! Not when I'm there." Cera glances to Kisha and winks, before looking out at everyone else. "Don't worry. I've got a plan, and I'll keep the mauling dragonets away. Nothing to fear, the lot of you." Cera slides up to Kisha and smiles. "Mind if I cut in. I need someone to just randomly jabber to, if you don't mind."

Razel certainly looks goofy in the overly large sandals; the ties reaching all the way to her knees. Face pales now as the line actually begins to /move/. Eyes dart left and right as she looks for someone to grab a hold of. Like a drowning person, threatening to drag their savior down with them...

V'len is pacing, breathing deeply, his hands wringing together. "This is it, people! This is the time of your life...that you will tell your grandkidlets about." He's nervous as any of them.

Nonam will be at the back still. See, he's in the back. Waaaaaay in the back. Yup.

Fynelox smoothes out his robe, glad that he had the foresight to make it long enough to not be flapping up too much. Looking up at the riders he gulps and heads up with the others into a line. Purposefully, he gets behind a few other Candidates that are notably taller than he his. There we go, safety not only in numbers but in height!

Little Neil, the gangly smith apprentice runs up, robe half in and half-off. "Don't forget me, don't forget time!" He staggers into the line, and pipes up, "I'm ready!"

Kishairyn winces at the veritable cascade of questions she's set off. "Like Anki says," she offers weakly, "it's just ... vaguely possible, doesn't hurt to be prepared ..." She manages a weak grin at Cera, gesturing with her hands. "Please, please do. I think we'll all be jabbering."

Menacion ponders a glass of cold water. Applied over Gaby, to calm her. But he settles for dragging her along and dealing with her hysteria on the sands. "Calm down. You'll survive. Speaking so fast is only going to make it so that you have to repeat yourself. Waste not your energy. You'll need it to duck dragonets."

Cera departs the candidate barracks.
Razel departs the candidate barracks.
Kishairyn departs the candidate barracks.

Taire hedges for the longest moment before she finally finds enough guts to actually line up with the others, but not for lack of trying to ease away. Dithering to exhaustion, she finally slides into the line, directly behind Fyne. "Awwww, shells and shardit."

Thanial purposefully gets behind Fyne...
Maeko departs the candidate barracks.
Aryion departs the candidate barracks.
Menacion departs the candidate barracks.

Gabriela shakes, biting her lip. "Ary," she hisses to the other candidate, "I'm behind you, 'member?" She nods toward him, whether he hears her or not.

Luchesi departs the candidate barracks.
Anki departs the candidate barracks.

Sanna gives the ties on her sandals one last yank, and they're as securely fastened as they can be. Straightening, she runs hands through her hair, pushing it almost impatiently away from her face. And she's ready to head out. The weyrgirl has seen this dozens of times before, but this is an entirely new perspective...

Gabriela departs the candidate barracks.

Hatching Sands
Waves of heat wash fleeting mirages across the burning sands, adding to the unreal sense of age combined with agelessness that breathes within the sweltering air. Cowed by the cavern's stony immensity, the galleries huddle near the bowl entrance, below the tiered ranks of viewing ledges that, come Hatching time, hold the matching ranks of dragons who cascade encouragement and welcome to the young lives that begin here -- /here/ -- amid the sweaty shuffle and grit of whispering sand.
You see Sands Logger, Suyinth, Heralding Dark Warrior Egg, Fire's Oracle Egg, Tragic Redemption Egg, Water's Illusion Egg, Fortune's Beckoning Egg, Moon's Pale Tear Egg, Priestess of Avalon Egg, Ignoble Eidolon Egg, Pinnacled Spires Egg, Apple of Hesperides Egg, Child of Sadness Egg, Burning Coals' Challenge Egg, Fractured Symmetries Egg, Flower Bride Egg, and Yevgeth here.
Siani, V'zan, P'tala, Murkat, S'lan, L'lia, Hanz, T'var, Cera, Razel, Kishairyn, Maeko, Aryion, Menacion, Luchesi, Anki, and Gabriela are here.
Obvious exits:
Exit

Fynelox walks onto the sands.
Nonam walks onto the sands.
Sanna walks onto the sands.
Thanial walks onto the sands.

S'lan glances over his shoulder at L'lia and chuckles softly. "When you're a candidate you don't notice as much, your mind is filled with wonder and awe.

M'lan walks onto the sands.

Hanz hurries to his love and places his hand over hers on his arm, "Came as soon as I could. Just left my shop." Dark eyes survey Suyinth with deep respect and then he notices some of the eggs shifting about. "It's beginning", he whispers to Siani.

V'len walks onto the sands.

P'tala raises a brow at V'zan, scooching herself next to the Weyrleader with a cheeky grin. "You have little right to be nervous," she mumbles, pointing at the galleries. "No pressure. Just grin at them, and wave at anyone you know. They--, she says, pointing at the candidates now filing in, /They/ have a right to be nervous.

Leading the Candidates onto the sands with V'len, M'lan's gaze sweeps over them. He gives an encouraging smile, briefly, before he heads over to the others, his gaze pausing here or there upon one of the candidates. He murmurs to V'len, "Here goes nothing."

Zanoot follows the candidates in and bows to the dragons on the sands.

Bow, bow, bow and /bow/. Weyrwoman, clutchmom and clutchdad all receive a bow of sorts from Anki as she quicksteps onto the sands, walking sideways to firmly park on a spot. That's right. Just try to take it away from her.

V'len follows the candidates out, and then actually trots across the sands to stand by his dragon. Think he's going to miss the bows? Not a chance. He eyes each of them expectantly. It's his last shot at this... it'd better be a /good/ bow.

Another tremble seemingly sends waves crashing across the surface of Child of Sadness Egg. The tiny spark pulses with the movement of life 'neath shell's sur2face, awaiting final release.

Neil, the tiny Smith Apprentice, staggers onto the sands and does the dance of the hot feet, shifting from one to another. Hop. Hop. "This is sharding /hot/." He states the obvious. He does that well.

Flower Bride Egg shifts again, a touch of impatience implied in the sudden movement that sends tiny bits of sand spraying outward. Auburn hues gleam brightly in the light of the glows - warm and inviting. Kisses of rose and frond seem more fertile somehow, illuminated by the promise of life anew.

Moon's Pale Tear Egg shifts again, this time slightly more violently. It's gentle eclipse slowly subsiding to the slow but constant movements of the egg. The dip in the sand it has warmed in for what seems a long time, is now widening with every shift, leaving the egg to move more freely.

Razel isn't nervous. She's ill. Really. This is worse than eating a full pot of ealpeal stew! Her stomach is just rolling, but still, she does what she was told, and bows low to both clutch mommy and daddy. A wave to Yevgeth, is added, and she wishes that she was simply here to feed him cinnamon rolls again. Then maybe she'd not be so queasy.

Fynelox follows the other candidates out and onto the Hatching Cavern. He sucks in a hiss as his feet meet the heat of the sands, the thin sandals he wears is evidently little protection. Looking around, his eyes turn towards the parental pair of dragons out there and the riders arranged by them. As they approach, he bows politely to them all, managing not to trip or fall on his face in the process. At least not yet.

Cera glances Kisha, then at Sanna, before blinking and bowing, nearly bobbing. One bow to the Weyrwoman and group, one bow to Suyinth and Yevgeth. Oh, let that be fine.

Heralding Dark Warrior Egg moves now. Just a touch. The sand around the ovoid shifts, subtly. Nothing to see here. That within will emerge in its proper time.

Gabriela trips over her sandals, nearly falling, mainly because all the candidates are pushing from behind. She would've stayed behind, if it weren't for /Menace/. She growls toward him before quickly following suit and bowing. "Ary," she then hisses. "Where are you?" Green eyes peer for the candidate.

V'zan responds by edging closer to P'tala, partially hiding himself behind her small frame. "I'm sure their excitement balances the anxiety." He flashes a bright smile of encouragement towards the emerging candidates. "All the same, I'm glad I don't ever have to go through that again."

Maeko has a right to be nervous. Maeko /is/ nervous, no question- especially after that little mention of maulings. Who was that, now? Who can be blamed? Hmph. Hands wring as she follows behind several others, smiling as she takes in the galleries, the eggs, and (of course) the clutchparents, though it's weak at the edges. Bow is given thrice, to Weyrwoman, Suyinth and Yevgeth.

Galorene jumps into the air as her feet find sand, and she squeaks loudly and uncomfortably, bowing to the gargantuan metallic dragons with a whimper. Oh shards oh shards, she says, squirming and looking for someone to -- Neeeeeil! she yells, pushing through the crowd towards her prey.

Ignoble Eidolon Egg moves not at all. Ignorance is bliss. The time is not now.

Thanial stumbles out last, it seems. He tripped over a stone coming from the barracks and that held him up a bit. Bowing to the large gold, the bronze, and the weyrleaders, Nial stephops on the Sands. And to think he was cold just this morning.. now the heat seems overwhelming, the long sleeves making it worse. "Hey, wait up Fyne," he calls to the Herder, making his way to stand beside the younger candidate.

Menacion may be the only calm one of the entire bunch. But even he gets a slight twinge of anxiety and anticipation at the sight of the rocking eggs, quickly suppressing it. Letting go of Gaby, he shrugs. "If Aryion can calm you down, go find him. I think he went that way."

Taire shuffles out onto the sands in the midst of the group, tugging on her robe here and there -but not too roughly 'cause it would just be her luck if one of the seams split. Just add insult to injury, it would. She is too busy smirking and snorting at the very idea and before she knows it, her sanded feet are plunging into the sands and the others are bowing and she manages something that some would consider a hiccup -could be a bow. Maybe.

Kishairyn tugs out the corners of her robe in a quick curtsey, not taking her eyes off the dragons as she dips low to queen and sire, and riders, although she's far more confident of their good intentions. She flashes a grin to her fellows, a cocky salute tossed off. "Come on, y'all, it's just standing around and looking cute. We can handle this."

Holly bows deeply, a sweeping movement of her arm embellishing her movement. Showoff harper type. She turns to Neil and whispers, "It's a drama... and we're on the stage." The girl has a sense of the dramatic.

Aryion strides onto the sands and pauses to take in /everything/. A short bow is given toward the galleries and his fellow smiths, while deep respectful bows are given to the Weyrleaders, Yevgeth, and Suyinth. After duty is done, Ary slowly moves over to Gabriela's side. "I

Sanna follows the example of others - she bows, to dam and sire, and to their riders, before straightening up, and shifting her dark glance from shaking eggs to fellow candidates. And she edges over a little closer to Anki and Menacion, the nearest to her. Safety in numbers?

Nonam is already red, so the heat doesn't seem to affect his face at all, though he does quickly adopt that mincing quickstep that is the traditional walk of candidates over the ages. He bows to Suyinth, Yevgeth, and Siani in turn, before moving off by himself, away from most of the other candidates, and to the rear of the group.

Luchesi is walking, but it hardly feels like it. Not floating either. More like she's gliding, perhaps. That is until her sandaled feet come in contact with the /hot/ sand. And if that's not enough of a crack on the head from Reality, then the shuddering eggs are. Clutch-parents get their bow-bobs before Lu scurries further into the heat.

Anki snorts for the benefit of her fellow Candidate. "Kisha, the day you do cute is the day I do innocent." Eyes shift over the moving eggs and she wiggles her shoulders, trying to get the ache out of them. "Oof. I think I can feel my legs sweating." How delicate of her to mention it too.

Burning Coals' Challenge Egg sits serene, a telltale change of color hinting at a minute twitch, a miniscule movement, or perhaps just a mirage of hot, comforting sands.

M'lan shakes his head to himself. Lifting a hand, the bronzerider brushes a few locks of hair from his brow as he settles not far from the other riders. He murmurs to V'zan, "Who d'you think will Impress? I'm betting that Bitran lad impresses for sure..."

Pinnacled Spires Egg remains as solid and immobile as a rocky fortress. It will take more than a gathering of robed candidates to breach this egg's defenses. In these places are these people:

Zanoot is holding her robe on each side and fanning it trying to keep her feet cool as the wonder of shaking eggs fills her mind.

Siani offers a wide smile to the candidates as they cross the sands and get settled into their places around the eggs. Suyinth takes a moment's pause from her careful mothering to rumble deeply to everyone present, a note of anticipation lingering in the sound. "Yes," agrees Siani, turning her face to her lifemate, "they look wonderful. Worthy candidates for your eggs."

Moon's Pale Tear Egg rolls slightly moving to the side, the fog azure almost seems to shift because inhabitants struggle for freedom. Then it grows still again, the ripples of lavender subsiding, lying calmly on macabre stain's side...

Neil continues to hop from foot to foot. If this is a show, then he's going to give one sharding humorous performance. He says to the harper-turned-candidate, "The sands are /hot/...who cares about drama?"

Razel rushes to clasp her hand to her mouth as she gets shoved further across the sands; passing a /moving/ egg as she goes. Joining Cera and Kishairyn, the teen mumbles something from behind her whitened palm. "Oh shards. I really think I AM going to be ill you two..." Eyes are wide, skin is green... She takes a few calming breaths before changing mood swings yet again. A small burp escapes. "Oops, false alarm." It was the ealpeal stew...

Menacion scoots a little closer to Sanna and Anki. Even he's feeling the age-old impulse to group with others for reassurance. Outwardly, he presents a slightly bored face, though a few tugs on his beard demonstrate his internal state. "I swear, these sands have gone up ten degrees since the last time we were here." He complains, shifting on his feet.

Gabriela looks toward Menace. "You stay here, too," she tells the former guard. "You're big." And easy to hide behind, m'dear. She looks toward the others as she fidgets with her gown, hair, everything else, still breathing heavily, eyes ignoring the Galleries. "Are they watching?" she murmurs toward the others.

[FortBait] Cera: N'il? Nil? Hmmm... Hanz cannot help but be aware of how nervous the candidates must be. He's never been a candidate himself, but can only imagine what they must be feeling at the moment.

Fynelox looks back just a bit as he hears his name and nods to the candidate coming up beside him. "Heya Thanial." The boy looks relieved, maybe because the taller candidate would provide a good place to hide behind should things turn too excitable. He manages a quiet but nervous grin to the others around him. "Gosh, they're really moving now."

Tragic Redemption Egg manages to roll a span or two away from the others, finally breaking the circular pattern set forth at clutching. Reluctant, it seems, to relinquish its closed ovoid to splintered shell. Unwilling yet, to face the fate that will come upon it.

T'var sidles smoothly closer to stand none too far away from V'len. No, not intruding on personal space, but certainly closer than he really has to be. If it helps at all, he just stands quietly at ease, a vertical repose. "A lovely batch, hmm?" comes the languid tenor, eyes dancing despite the heat.

V'len isn't so sure about this. After all, he's been watching these eggs for the past ... forever. "You think they're good enough for Yevgeth's spawn? I mean... this is historic! And look at that bunch!" He glances over towards M'lan and snorts. "Bitran lad? I don't know... you know what they say about Bitrans."

Cera shifts slightly, then smoothes her robe, and raises her head just a little bit. She -IS- a Weaver Journeywoman. She will -NOT- act like a squeemish little girl. She -WILL- be dignified. Blue eyes flick around as she murmurs to Kisha, "Do you see those oiling paddles around anywhere?"

Priestess of Avalon Egg sits silently still, the waves of heat making the grey mists seem to swirl around it. The time has not come for the mists to recede, the power is not strong enough. Only with time will it build.

P'tala tilts her head back to look upwards, snickering at Vzan. I dont know. I think itd be fun to go at it again. A careful eye goes to the audience in the galleries, then to Suyinth and Siani. Or maybe not. Did that one move? she asks, pointing at an egg and oohing. The excitement never ceases. Ive got bets on the Harper girl over there.

Heralding Dark Warrior Egg shudders, hinting at the darkness within, the sand about the egg slowly rustling with the egg's movements. Then ... silence, again.

Kishairyn manages another grin, though it seems somewhat more shaky than the last one. "Ill? What for? Relax. It's just a big ... play. For our enjoyment. Look at it that way," she advises, trying to sound convincing. She casts a look back at V'len. "They play a mean card-game!" she fills in. She shakes her head, eyes narrowing as she continues to scan. "No ..."

A tearing of silk, a shedding of veils, a shivering like blood in water... Eerie light is swallowed by the horizon. Diffuse alabaster sinks into hatching-moist mossy hide as if those gray-green straggles thirsted for illumination as well as water. The frosted murk of
Clandestine Vivien Green Dragonet slides from the dark mists of Moon's Pale Tear Egg with a graceful ripple of aurora'ed wingsails and a touch of cold beauty.
Clandestine Vivien Green Dragonet Gloomy moss creeps up draconic sides, seeking to claim the craggy neckridges situated atop her lithe, agile frame. Silver frost bars tendrils' way, capping crest's peak before melting into cold ivory which bleeds downward across the dark malachite of her narrow flanks. Murky emerald conquers wings' lubs, leaving a mere dappling of snowflake's dew. Opalescent gleam illuminates 'sails, reflecting the light much like a glistening leaf caught in the mysterious glow of the pale moon. Serpentine tail slowly wanes down to its omega where delicate spade has been dipped in an alabaster hue, a match to equally chilly talons.

Fire's Oracle Egg subsides into faint tremblings, the fires temporarily banked, awaiting a bit more stirring within before it will consent to reveal the future's secrets.

Taire is looking much like a wherry caught in the glowlight as the heat and the sights and the general bedlam dazzles her. "Oooooo." With a squeak, the girl bounces forward, splitting the pair of Thanial and Fynelox in two as she latches a hand onto the robe of either one. Save her.

Water's Illusion Egg continues its gentle, tidal motion against its neighboring egg. Silver glistens, then pale blue as the rhythm begins and grows. Slower, slow.... little by little, increasing its pace.

"Oh, first's a green. Not bad, look at that one." M'lan mutters this to V'len, ignoring the Bitran comment. He has family in Bitra. Granted, only a pair of cousins, but nevertheless.

Maeko's eyes sweep over the eggs again, and, unlike the others, stops dead still in her tracks halfway amid two other clustered groups. She can't bring herself to attach to a group, and clutches at her hands with white knuckles- those wings in her belly are back, and (nyah, nyah) there's nothing she can do about them. Heelp. Eyes scan the galleries, and she whimpers slightly- so many, many people; are soon forgotten as the first egg's movement is no longer egg, but green dragonet. Oh.. my.

Razel is about to reply further, stating that her illness was actually caused by her dinner, and not just her nervousness. She then calms also at Cera and Kish's words, though her eyes do widen once more when the green hatchling escapes the bonds of its egg. "Oh my.." she exclaims, wobbling on feet which are already starting to tinge because of the sands heat. "My my," she repeats.

V'zan politely comments, "I'm not much of a betting man..." He ceases in mid-sentence to admire the first dragonet to emerge onto the sands. "Ah, a quick start. This bodes well."

Aryion is standing proud and tall, white and red hair streaming down his back. Glancing over he grins at Gabby, "after all that waiting and watching, and drooling.. they are finally moving." Simply amazing. Eyes remained fixed on his favorite egg, a little apart now from his clutchmates.

Nonam is still standing off by himself, watching his fellow candidates, smiling as he does, not much worried about anything as he shifts from foot to foot to try and ease the discomfort. Then out comes the Vivien green, and all of his attention is then on her.

Anki mms softly. Snap, crackle /and/ pop, all in one quick second. "Do I espy a talon?" she asks dryly of poor Menacion, edging close to him. "You're the guard. Protect us." So there. "Nice colour though. I've always liked the darker shades best."

Thanial turns towards Taire and Fyne and offers sweaty palms to both.. that is until the little green hatches. "Lovely," is his breathless comment, but then sanity returns. "Hey Taire, it's green." Must be hers. Therefore, he steps behind her so that she's in the front of the trio.

V'len turns with a bright smile towards... T'var? What's he doing there? Ah, but who better than to appreciate a beautiful green. "Lovely, isn't she? A fitting beginning to a historic clutch." The 'not bad' comment from M'lan gets a wide eyed stare. This is the most fantabulous green ever hatched, of course! Yevgeth's daughter!

Sanna is industriously edging her way towards the main group, having trailed out, and found herself separated. A chorus of 'ooh's brings her head up, though, and eyes widen at the sight of the green. She leans around the smith she's circumnavigating, to take a better look, and as she continues moving, glances frequently dart back to the hatchling.

Neil hops, this time with excitement. "It's a green, it's a green!" He tries to grab Holly's arm, and almost trips. "Oops!"

Apple of Hesperides Egg squirms, juices looking delectable, temptation in face of white-robed candidates. If the gold yields fruit, what doth the fruit yield?

Zanoot gives a short, sharp, high pitched shrill as the dragonete bursts from its shell and is suddenly frozen in place.

Fynelox almost jumps out of his skin as he feels a hand tugging on his robe, but heaves a breath as he turns and spies Taire. Then he blushes red for a second, hoping that the stitching on the white clothing will hold. That would be a bad revenge for the antics of the night before, but it seems that for now his dignity is preserved. "Shards, Taire. You frightened me." He offers a hand to the girl somewhat shyly though. "Hold onto this instead if you want." Then his attention is ripped away towards the sound of a splintering egg, his voice trailing to a soft gasp. "Look!"

Gabriela turns quickly toward Raz. "Don't get sick!" she squeaks. Wide eyes turn toward the eggs now, and they manage to get larger as the first egg hatches. "Oh, she's beautiful," her whisper continues. She nods slowly toward Aryion as she takes a deep breath. "It's sad in a way.... that this group will soon be apart." But this is supposed to be a happy time, so Gaby puts on a grin.

P'tala snorts at Vzan, thinking of a clever retort--the best she can come up with is an ogle at the first hatched, eyes widening with a little bit of pride. Heh. A green. You know how perfect green dragons are, right Vez? Of course he does.

"Lovely," breathes Siani, "though there is certainly *something* about that green. Her coloring is unsual... I like it. Intriguing." The newly hatched green dragonet is watched for a while, Sia's grey-green eyes slightly narrowed as the first-born is carefully study. "What do you think, Hanz?"

Menacion spreads his hands. "Hey. There was nothing in guard training that covered fending off hungry dragonets. Um...aim for the nose?" Sage advice spoken, he eyes the dragon. "Or maybe just run. Hide behind me. But if it comes this way, it's coming for you. Or maybe Sanna." Couldn't possibly be coming for Menace.

Kishairyn's eyes widen, then narrowly thought, drinking in what is, after all, her first sight of a dragon hatchling. Imprint to memory ... and be able to draw it when called upon. "What ... what do you think?" she wonders to both ladies near her. Never hurts to take a poll.

Cera blinks at the noise everyone else is making, and turns to look back at the eggs. Cera blinks again. Dragonet. Green. Hatched. "Where did they hide those paddles? I can't just go around bapping dragonets on the nose with my first if they start mauling... Oh." Cera's blue eyes catch Sanna shifting and tailing on the sands. She raises a hand and waves. "Sanna, over here. Come with Kisha and I!"

Heralding Dark Warrior Egg remains still, once more. It wouldn't do to let the prey become wary. Thus it is, that the egg remains quiescent again.

T'var smiles suavely at V'len and takes the comment as an invitation to ease closer. Okay, okay, so he's not cuddling up in the middle of this heat, but for a flicker of a moment, he looks tempted to take V'len's hand. "Oh, indeed. She is quite the little darling."

Clandestine Vivien Green Dragonet moves gently, first one limb, then the other, slowly gaining momentum to stand. Frosty talons slowly gaining grasp on the sands. Cool moss neck cranes to look at her mother and father, before eyes seek the people wearing white, first just a generalized look... She knows her one is here.

S'lan smiles as the green emerges triumphantly from its hardened encasement. "Absolutely beautiful.

Taire would rather stand between the pair and sort of remain anonymous. But then Nial had to go and break her trust by moving behind her. "Ohhh, whats this, you fink? Need me to save your scrawny hide?" she fairly spits, swishing her head to the side with ire. Fyne's words are earned an equally healthy smirk, "Frightened you? That... that /thing/ out there will be doing all the frightening." A hand waves out to the green, only to come back and clutch at his.

:draws in her breath, standing stock still. "She's ... wonderful!" she states. Like she expected something else? Eyes flicker to Neil for just a moment, and then right back to the eggs. Too fabulous to miss.

Luchesi stops and stares as the first egg breaks open, the little green dragonet eyed with unsurity. It's really very pretty! Not as intimidating as the bigger clutch-parents, at least. All the other dancing eggs are taken in a wide sweep of henna as Lu shifts in place.

Hanz barely restrains himself from cheering as the first dragonet makes its appearance. Beaming smile on his face reflects his thoughts as he gives Siani's hand a gentle squeeze, "A little beauty", is his response.

Ganorene jogs towards Neil, ignoring the presence of the overdramatic Holly and positively squealing. Genuine enthusiasm pours down her arm as she latches onto Neil with a jump. Oh, the green! Look at it! Is it coming this way? she asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

Razel slowly makes her path /away/ from the crowd. No need to be bogged down with groups of others trying to push you towards any newly hatched dragonets, right? Though she keeps her eye on the newly hatched, the teen also watches for dips and bumps in the sand that might trip her up, sending her tumbling towards the hot, searing sand. Hugging herself, and taking wincing steps, the girl hobbles towards a spot clear of /hatching/ eggs. These ones are safe, for now.

Sanna is nothing if not obliging, and in this case she's also relieved. Altering course just a little, she comes to a halt beside Kishairyn and Cera. "I think someone's lucky, is what I think." That's her response to Kisha's quick straw poll. "Hasn't she interesting colouring? She's just lovely."

Aryion sighs with a quiet amazement as the first egg hatches. "A green, its a green, beauty that one," is mumbled to himself. Glance is given toward the girls and the former guard. "Don't you dare think about hurting one of these beauties.." Blue eyes dart to Razel, "Are you okay Raz?"

What is it about the little guys and the girls? Now it's little Neil with two girls hanging on him, and the boy staggers again, "It is, yes." The boy's voice cracks alarmingly, and he flushes, still shifting his feet in the heat of the sands.

Kishairyn quirks a wry smile in Cera's direction. "Well, I guess we'll just have to hope that doesn't happen ..." Oh, she hopes. A twiddle of a well-wishing wave is sent in Razel's direction before her hands fall limp to her side. "Are they all like that?" she wonders softly, consulting the expert. Or at least, the more-knowledgable.

Thanial offers Taire a hurt look... "I am not a fink." It's just well.. green. Greens go for girls.. and those of T'var or T'on persuasion... Not Nial. "I'm just.. err..." hiding behind a girl?? "Here, hold my hand too," he offers Taire his sweaty palm again. Yet he's still slightly behind her... ready to push her if necessary.

Maeko mutters under her breath, backing up a step in an attempt to.. escape? No. Never escape. Not with all those *cough* /people/ watching. She'd never sacrifice her dignity like that- but someone mentioned maulings again, and she'd like a paddle herself to use as protection. Otherwise, she'll just run. Like the wind. Fidgit. Shuffle. My, that sand is hot- even with the thin protection of the sandals, it's not much of an improvement.

Anki laughs softly. "I don't have a deathwish," she whispers, wiggling from foot to foot to try and distribute the heat evenly. "Sanna, you'll sacrifice yourself for me, won't you?" she asks rather plaintively. "Geez, Aryion, learn how to take a joke, hmm? Sides. She looks quite..er..capable."

Gabriela peers toward Menace, hoping hoping hoping that boy doesn't get a green. That is the thing nightmares are made of. She raises an eyebrow toward Cera, giggling. "Why are you so obsessed with the paddles, Cer?" Eyes turn back toward the dragonet in curiosity. "Interesting..." she murmurs. She looks toward the other candidates at Ary's words. "I don't think they want to hurt it. Maybe they're pondering pushing Menace toward it." Wry shudder.

Cera glances at Sanna and nods, blue eyes flicking about the sands, and back to the dragonet, as if trying to watch everything at once. "Nice frost. Interesting coloring... Okay... now, if you get scared, I'm not big, but hop behind me." Right... Cera's the brave woman herself. That's why her knees are nocking. Cera offers the best smile she can muster to Kisha. "Everything's gonna be fine. no worries."

V'len is too thrilled with everything going on to worry about T'var at all. Besides. /He/ appreciates Yevgeth and his incredible spawn. "Yes, this is incredible. The wonders of new life and all that... Oh, it makes me want to do it all over again." He turns to T'var with a toothy smile. He does understand, doesn't he?

Nonam just has his eyes on the green dragonet, watching her make her way towards the candidates. "She's...gorgeous!"

Zanoot licks her lips trying to keep them moist for all the good its doing, considering her mouth is as dry as cotton from the heat and excitement. Her hands are busy fanning the bottom of her robe as her feet try to find a cool place to stand.

Fynelox was rather hoping to dart behind Thanial's greater bulk when the time comes, but for now he just squeezes Taire's hand, wishing his own weren't quite so clammy. "I didn't know it was you, Taire!" He never expects her to come up behind him, he really aught to by now. "Thought maybe something might have hatched already and came around the other side, that's all." Mayhaps the boy protests too much. He peers at the taller boy too and makes a face, sort of signaling with his eyes that maybe they should both shove the girl in front.

Menacion blinks. Hey. One of his two dragon-magnet-people just went thataway. Towards more dragon-magnet-people. Menace follows. "I'll distract the dragon if it comes for you while you run in the other direction? That's the best I can do." He offers to Anki.

The gentle rocking and wobbling of Child of Sadness Egg becomes more pronounced, mimicking the rhythmic motion of crashing waves.

Razel is fine. She'd be the last person to admit that she's actually scared shell-less. Instead, she pastes a sickly smile to her face and whispers hoarsely to Aryion. "Oh, I'm fine.. Fine fine fine..." Blink. See, P'tala had warned her, oh so long ago, and look what she got for thinking the rider only teasing her. Eep! There's another egg rocking! Run! "Wish I had something to defend myself with," she mutters.

It has begun, first one foot is raised then the other, the infamous Dance of the Sands. Aryion's grin stays fixed upon his face as he slowly shuffles his feet. No problems that he can't handle. Looking over toward Razel, "you can hide behind be if you want to. I don't mind."

Tiny fissures spring to life within the translucent pools of aquamarine that encompass the base of the Flower Bride Egg. Small though they are, they're still a slight mar on the golden, radiant surface. Perfection never lasts and even beauty must fade to be replace by something else. Not yet, the egg seems to whisper as it grows silent again.

V'zan favors P'tala with an impish grin. "I hope there are a lot of greens in this group. I'm beginning to grow fond of the after-effects of Noswaith's flights, win or lose."

Heralding Dark Warrior Egg moves again. That which is within is preparing for his emergence. Small cracks appear on the egg, and it's as if the comet is falling. The time is soon. The time which is foreordained.

Holly is right there, pointing with her arm outstretched, other hand by Neil. "It's the moment of a lifetime! Yes... the stalking of the white-robed candidates, the breathless crowd watching... see it all? Remember this! It's the story you'll tell for the rest of your turns!" Yes, drama is this girl's hallmark.

Clandestine Vivien Green Dragonet moves one foot, other sinks slightly on a slight divot in the sand, making next movement more difficult. She manages to shake free of the sand, stumbling ever so slightly the other way, only barely managing to stay standing. Now oriented, she moves forward, nose sniffing the air... She... Yes, it is a woman is waiting.

S'lan overhears V'zan and actually laughs.

Sanna snorts, eyes sliding sidelong to Anki for a moment. "Sacrifice? I'll let Menace distract anything that comes near you, and watch you run, I think." She edges a little closer to Cera and Kishairyn, although she leans to one side to peer around a fisher lad. "There's more rocking properly, now."

Burning Coals' Challenge Egg shudders, and a fast eye will catch the slow, careful movement of the glowing egg. A tilt in the sand, an inner glory anticipating the outer movement, then stillness. For now.

M'lan rolls his eyes at V'zan, and murmurs, "You would." This is all the bronzerider says as he turns to the ground again, his soft baritone laced with soft amusement.

Anki will pack it in and flee. She'll run, run, run without even a second thought, no matter how nobly she talked earlier. "Right." Pause. "You do that, Menacion. I'll make you a free outfit or something, okay?" You just stop that dragonet. Nevermind the crowd. Nevermind her own cheering section.

Gabriela nods toward Razel, smiling. "Defend yourself with an Aryion. That's what I'm doing," she whispers, thumb pointing to the smith. She nods at Aryion's words, grinning, as if to encourage Razel to join her in the hiding. "Less people can see you from here," she murmurs. Eyebrow raises toward the green. "Can we get her to move back toward Suyinth and away from us?"

Taire catches that look, Fyne. And she isn't happy at all to see it. With a determined smirk, she squeezes down /hard/ on his fingers. Head flicks to the side once more, words for Nial but her eyes are most avidly upon those eggs before her and that which will be hatching from them. "Sure. I'll take your hand." Her own moves around, grappling and grabbing at whatever 'til she things she grasps his, at least she hopes it is as once more, she gives a hard squeeze. "You two are something else," she growls. And here she was coming to them for protection.

Kishairyn laughs and rolls her eyes skywards. "This ... this *event*, and I'm worried about a little bloodshed ..." She grins wryly, shaking her head. "No one is going to need to hide behind anyone ..." She draws a deep breath, risking a flitted sideway look at this egg and then that. Is it her imagination, or do they persist in moving out of the corner of her eye?

"Certainly, though not immediately, I assume," T'var's smile for the proud clutchdaddy is genuine, and just a wee bit playful. "Surely you aren't inclined to spend another long, long session on these sands so soon. Just think of all the talent going to waste..." Teasing, mostly. V'len's ego is always fun to poke at, even if in a distracted sort of way. Experienced eyes follow the young green's progress.

Razel stares at Aryion. "Hide? But.. why?" Oy, there goes the mood swings again. Puffing out her chest, the teen takes another deep breath and makes a brave move forward; beside the other candidates, and not behind them. Of course, that puts her closer to the hatchings.. but... A price to pay for pride, neh? "Just don't push me towards it, or I'll never bake you another snickerdoodle again!"

Pinnacled Spires Egg has yet to even vibrate, showing no signs that its unscalable walls may be vulnerable to any assault from without or within.

Cera reaches out to squeeze Kisha's shoulder. "Keep thinking that way," she murmurs, then laughs at Sanna. "Oh, now that would be interesting. Watching the guard run shrieking away..."

Menacion shrugs. "And what are you going to do when it comes for /you/, Sanna?" Bad girl, bad girl. "You were just denigrating your sewing skills a few minutes ago. How about you just find a good weaver to make one for me?" He suggests to Anki. "Well. Peripheral vision is best at spotting motion. Head-on is worst." He offers helpfully in response to Kish.

P'tala wrinkles her nose at Vzan, feeling tempted enough to try to beat the Weyrleader in the presence of the audience. Maybe they arent even watching her. You, she mutters, scowling and wrinkling her nose. Noswaith deserves em. All you get are the after effects.

Fortune's Beckoning Egg rocks a bit, joining the movement of the others on the sands, exposing more of the shell as the granules tumble from the smooth surface.

V'zan comments to M'lan's back, "And I suppose you and your lifemate would complain about a few more emerald tails to chase after?" He blithely ignores P'tala's less-than-happy response.

Thanial isn't sure he's happy or sad that Taire indeed did grab his hand and not something else. That squeeze hurts. "Why thank you," he accepts the compliment easily and winks over her head at Fyne. The young herder can count on him to sacrifice Taire before the alter of the green dragonet. Giving both a brief grin, his attention returns to the green dragonet as his throat convulses slightly. Nial, gulping? Never.

Aryion looks back over his shoulder at Gabby. "Now Gabby, if one starts coming toward you do you want me to move out of the way or just stand here and get mauled?" He shrugs as Razel moves to stand beside the candidates, not behind him. Eyes watch the green's progress before turning back to his favorite egg. Hoping it will rock again.. soon.

Sanna will deal with it coming for Sanna if and when it comes for Sanna. For now, there's too much to watch. For a moment, her gaze leaves the sands, and shifts to the galleries, and she squints upwards to attempt to identify some of those there. A hand goes up in a hesitant half-wave, but others can't hold her attention for long. Not when there's action down here to watch.

Fynelox tries not to wince too visibly as Taire tries to reduce his fingers to a pulp. Squelching a whimper of pain, he tries to distract himself by watching the dragonet and the eggs instead. But under his breath, the boy mutters lowly. "You only figured that out now?" He catches Thanial's return gaze though and his expression glints once again with mischief.

Neil ignores Holly. Drama. Shrama. He just wants to get off the sands alive. He fidgets now, stating to the girl on his other arm, "Who do you think she'll go towards?"

Gabriela looks toward Kishairyn, eyebrow still raised. Kishy's the one that scared all the candidates with tales of maulings. She giggles at Razel, shaking her head. "I'll protect you, Raz," she tells the girl with a grin and wink. Sure. While Gabriela herself is shaking like a leaf. She peeks up toward Ary with innocent eyes. "Get mauled," she murmurs with a sage nod. "Or... tell me and we'll both run."

Nonam shifts back and forth from one foot to the other, moving slowly in his shifting towards Fynelox, Taire, and Thanial. He's not moving that way on purpose, but he shifts more one way than the other. It's a sort of crab step. But he doesn't pay attention to that, instead watching the green dragon. When she stumbles, he inhales sharply through his teeth. "Hsst!"

P'tala tosses Mlan a Look. Vzan would be thrown a punch, but that would just give the Holders more complaining fodder. Instead, she smoothes expression out of her face, and nonchalantly moves her heel over to grind onto the Weyrleaders toe. A/hem/.

Kishairyn grins at Cera. "What, and then I'll die happy before I'm run over?" she inquires, though her voice quavers noticeably. She wrinkles her nose. "I haven't got a deck of cards on me," she announces with a shake of her head. Ever on the peripheral of her vision, that green, even as eager eyes still meander.

V'len tilts his head towards the greenrider with a smile. Ah, he's appreciated. Of course. "Well, it's a sacrifice, no doubt. It's not only hard on Yevgeth and I, but I assume the weyr has suffered with me being regulated on the sands. Ah, but look... I do believe it's worth it. Such progeny!" He beams, settling down, quite assured of his place in history. Already.

Fire's Oracle Egg surfaces wavers once again, faint flaws emerging to foreshadow the paths that fate may take this night.

Maeko shuffles sideways, positioning herself behind another group for protection- who's that? Oh. People she knows. Looks like Aryion, and that could be Gabriela next to him. Whether or not others are gathered around, she's not noticing. Attention's elsewhere, you see. Soft whimper emerges once again, and she peers 'round their shoulders in curiosity and anxiety. Oh, it's there. It's there.

Clandestine Vivien Green Dragonet moves, quicker now, venturing and then closing in on a group of three girls... Looking from one to the other. She jumps slightly as one of them waves, the movement taking the green by surprise and she moves slightly to the right. Wait. She is closing in now, heading for one of those girls...

Cera shakes her head at Kishairyn. Okay, the little messanger -is- handling things as well as she can. That's good. Eyes flick to Sanna, whom gets a ... hopefully reassuring grin, before Cera's eyes return to the green dragonet.

Razel nods to herself, stating aloud, "Well protect each other, deal?" Of course, how, she hasn't a clue... Instead, she reaches one hand out to Ary, and one towards Gabby. "Lets just.. ah.. make a wall, so that .. umm.." She has no idea what she's talking about. She's a cook, not a strategist! Of course, can't always let your fear show, though her face is still a little greenish.

Taire finally releases the pressure on their hands, but only a little, mind you. "Fyne? Do you really want me to forget all this and kick your a-" She stops suddenly, quirking her glance to the side as she eyes the sidling healer. Nonam is awarded a wary glance. Whoa. For a moment there she thought one of those dragonets got sly and tried to come at them from the side. Nonam is awarded a tremulous grin, before she heaves a sigh of relief as the green moves on to the others.

Aryion looks down at Gabby. Run? Don't think so. "I am going to stand, I don't run." He's drooled over these eggs for the past few sevendays, he's not going to run if a dragon comes toward him, not now. A smile is given to Razel as he takes the cook's hand and gives it a little squeeze for good luck.

Anki pulls close to the man-man in their group, giving a sigh of relief as the dragonet veers away from them. Hopefully. Craning her neck around his frame, she mms. "Is she heading for someone? Can't quite see. Ugh. Why couldn't you be a little shorter, Menace?"

V'zan winces as his poor little toes are crushed, but swiftly plasters a smile onto his face. This is a time for excitement and joy. Not yelps of pain. "At least none of the candidates are running in fear yet. They don't quite realize what's in store for them. Poor kids."

Gabriela discretely waves Maeko over, smiling. "Come on over," she whispers to the girl before grinning and nodding at Razel. "Sure thing, Razie. Got any snickerdoodles hidden in your robe?" If so, don't tell us how. "We can throw them at the dragons that come nearby. Oh, and we could all make a wall, but then no one is hiding behind anyone, and that kind of ruins the purpose." She nods at Aryion, chuckling. "Then you get it?" she replies with a wink.

:isn't ignoring Neil though. "They're talking about maulings still!" Her voice holds a note of awe. Maulings would really add to the tension.. the plot line... the excitement of the entire thing. Just as long as it's not her. "Can you imagine? Candidates pouring towards the exits, the dragons standing stunned - what a story that would make!" It seems she's almost eager for it to happen.

Menacion scoots slightly backwards. That green seems to be heading for one of those dragon-magnet-people of Menace's. Good. It's not going for him. "I think it's coming your way, people. Run." Just a little warning. He hunches his shoulder, slouching. "Because then I wouldn't be as good a bodily shield for you? Blame my parents, when you get a chance."

Ignoble Eidolon Egg might have moved just now. Did it? No, probably not. Nah. Heatwaves ripple in the air and all that. Surely that wasn't a flicker of life.

Zanoot watches the green as she dances around on the sands. wondering who it is going after and dodging another candidate who is shuffling out of its way. That was Holly...

Luchesi's eyes follow the path of the greenling avidly. Nervousness is slightly quelled as the green fumbles in a in another direction, hands clenching and unclenching on the bottom of her robe. Looks like she might've found her partner. Wonder which one?

M'lan chuckles slightly, and murmurs to V'zan, "Well, Pwylth wouldn't mind it." He'll leave it at that, though he winces at the crushed toes, and takes a step away. Just in case. He turns his attention curiously to the sands, and watches the green. "Mmm...look where she's going."

Fynelox gives Taire a nervous look for a moment. "Uh, can I say no without making you mad?" he asks the girl cautiously. Maybe he is learning, but it'll probably do him no good anyway. Looking up, he nods at the healer turned candidate and gives a beckoning wave in case the much older man needed some sort of reassurance like the rest of them.

Apple of Hesperides Egg leans over, like a great tree falling down. The slow slide into the sand, however, does not crack the shell; a lush ruby`s side exposed to the sight of the world.

Fortune's Beckoning Egg rocks a little more, a little more aggressively, joining the others in movement on the sands.

Kishairyn winces and bites back a curse as the sands scorch her feet 'round her sandals. "Things are too sharded small ..." She freezes, head snapping up. "Ah, is it - she -" the candidate corrects "- supposed to do that? No one's got any of Anki's perfume, do they?"

Razel doesn't have any snickerdoodles, or snacks, or anything on her... Just too-big sandals, and a robe with uneven seams. Oh, and a great, big, queasy feeling in her tummy. As the one eggs she'd been spying for sevendays falls over, the teen's eyes widen once more. The Hesperides wonder doesn't crack, however, so it seems that all is still safe ... However, there are many other eggs which are rocking, rolling and spitting out dragonets - those are the one's she's worried about.

Does Nonam need reassurance? Is Saerth green? Is T'var the prettiest man in Fort Weyr? That's a resounding yes. He smiles back at Fynelox and Taire. He'll just be near them. Yep. Just...er..in case one of them...um, faints, yeah. "Just keep telling yourself that, Nonam." He mutters in a whisper under his breath, still watching the green.

S'lan watches anxiously as it seems it is almost time for him to go to work and earn his keep

T'var nods smoothly to V'len. "Such fascinating progeny. As unique and wonderful as their sire." Too bad Tev left his shovel in his weyr. Ahem. "A welcome exchange, and a contribution so few could equal..."

Maeko blinky-blinks. Eh? Oh! That /is/ Gaby. Okay. Maeko scratches at the back of her neck, listening in on the last few sentences of the trio's conversation. "Scatter as one approaches? They can't maul you /all/." Shrug. Shuffle. She's no more a strategist than Razel. "Or you could just keep Ary in front of you as a guard." Oh, wait. That was the original plan? Er.

Thanial sighs in relief, whether its because the green is heading elsewhere or because Taire's released some of the pressure on his fingers is unknown, even to the candidate. "Kick his..." Nial begins, anything to distract him, but then the Healer is noticed. "Nonam!" he shouts, "What the shells are you doing?" Oh wait, was Nonam trying to hide?

The storm's violence is increasing, causing Child of Sadness Egg to shift and shudder erratically in its sheltered hollow of sand. Tiny cracks begin to appear, accompanied by a faint thunder-like rumbling.

Cera glances sideways at Kishairyn, and then Sanna, nodding slowly as the green dargonet appears to be approaching. "No sudden movements... just slow... calm... everyone breath... and it won't do any harm... " Isn't that what the herders say about tenacious runner beasts?

Taire quirks her lips. "Actually no," and then she is reduced to clutching at Fyne's hand even more, sweaty palm and all. Nonam is eyed, "If I start bleeding, you'll fix me up, right? Right? Right!" Yes, a demand. She'd rather not spill any of her precious blood on these sands 'cause some baby dragon doesn't know how to use its talons yet. That'd just be the icing on the bubblie. Ayep. As for Nial's suggestion of kicking, that hasn't gotten her very much. So, Nial is snorted at, and loudly.

P'tala's grin almost matches V'zan's though hers is, perhaps, a bit more genuine. "That's true though I'm sure that M'lan and S'lan will give them a run for their marks. Heh. Two 'lans. How utterly frightening."

Aryion lets out a laugh, "ah.. so that is your plan. Should have known." He doesn't mind, since he is not going anywhere anytime soon. The dance continues, one foot then the other, as he watches all the activity on the sands, and waits for something, anything to happen. He gives all the girls around him reassuring smiles before turning back to watch the eggs.

Sanna doesn't seem sure of this. "Are you positive?" Forget the fact that she's the one who's watched hatchings all her life. Nevertheless, there's no sign of another wave. Rather, she's still, silent, simply watching the little green as she approaches.

Gabriela peers toward Maeko with wide eyes. "Do they have healers nearby?" her voice nearly begs before she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Hand rises to her mouth, and the trader begins to chew on her fingernails. "It doesn't look like it'll hurt anyone," she finally mumbles around her fingernails. She returns Aryion's smile, though more meekly, and returns to staring at the shaking and breaking eggs.

Kishairyn snorts softly. "That's what I always used to be told about bugs that sting," she mutters, eyes continually drawn back to the dragonet. "Just sit there and don't make any funny movements, and you'll be fine. And they always bit me ..." She shrugs a shoulder at Sanna. "Faranth, no." Then again, she didn't make the statement.

V'len is pointing at the green. "Look... Do you think she knows who he lifemate is?" He's holding his breath, his finger almost trembling. "My first baby... going to find a lifemate?"

Siani tries, and fails, to keep her breathing steady and rhythmic. She finds herself holding long gulps of air as she watches the green make her way over the sands. "She's definitely making sure, isn't she? Though I suspect it's one of those three women over there."

V'zan snorts. "True, Penta, but at least this group has noone as troublesome as you were to make weyrlinghood a nightmare for man and beast."

Clandestine Vivien Green Dragonet knows her one is here, eyes shift falling upon ivory robe, bunched at the hip. Is that her? She comes closer, nose sniffing the air, eyes probing at the girl. Is it her? Malachite legs shift slightly as she gazes at the candidate almost sure... Ready to make the next step.

Menacion raises a brow. "I'd run if I were any of you." He suggests to the three women. "Split up in three directions. Better chance of evading." Meanwhile, Menace edges sideways. /Away/ from the green.

"I just want to get out with my skin intact," Neil states to both girls. "That's it."

Ignoble Eidolon Egg rattles abruptly, briefly, then stops as quickly as it started. A shiver?

Razel doesn't feel assured, though she'll accept the smile readily enough. A grin to Maeko, including her in their circle of .. ah.. frightened and nervous plan-makers. She hears the whispering and ooh's coming from the crowd way above, but doesn't tear her eyes from the scene going on around her. "Gimme a kitchen heat to these sharding sands anyday!" is her latest mutterance.

Cera blinks at the green, looks at Sanna, then turns to Kisha. "No nae-saying you..." Cera's mouth opens, as the dragonet seems to look directly at Kisha and blinks, staring at the former messenger now. "Don't run. Don'

Fynelox mutters at Thanial under his breath. "Who's side are you on?" He's going to use the bigger lad as a shield worse comes to worse, that is if he can free himself from Taire. The way his fingers are aching though, it's not likely. In any case, his own pounding heart and frayed nerves is sort of blocking out most of the pain anyway. "You'll be handy to have about." he grins back at the healer before whipping his gaze back to the front and the grouping of girls with the green before them. His breath is held. "Who do you think she's after? Kishairyn?"

Hanz has been watching the green, as well as the candidates and the flurry of activity on the sands as the eggs are shifting. Oh who will the green choose, he too finds himself almost suspended in time then realizes he's not breathing and draws a long breath, gently reminding Siani to do so also. "It's amazing to watch", he whispers to her.

Pinnacled Spires Egg serves as silent sentinel and immovable crag in the midst of the roiling chaos of the hatching sands.

More cracks form on the Heralding Dark Warrior's surface. The time fast approaches.

"Grow shorter, shards!" Anki calls out as she slips out from behind Menace for a peek. Nose wrinkles. "Ugh. My perfume smells horrible on you, you know that?" she informs, stretching to her toes. "Who do you think she's going for?"

P'tala rolls her eyes. "I was hardly a nightmare. You just couldn't deal with me, is all." A smile goes to the bronzerider - the most assuring yet, for its warmth. She's trying to be nicer, see? She really is. Pointing to the other eggs, she beams. "Look They're all getting ready."

"You mean, besides Nonam?" Maeko responds, scanning the galleries with squinted eyes- she can hardly identify faces, but shrugs. "I'm sure Master Ethan's up there, as well as countless apprentices, but they don't count. Mauling or no, I'm sure numbweed is in plenty supply." Green is glanced to again, and the young dragonet seems to have a specific girl in mind at this point- Maeko shuffles back and forth once more. "I'll take boiling numbweed salve to this, any day!" Is the response to Razel with a shaky grin. To each, their own analogy.

Zanoot shifts patiently her eyes following the green and the eggs as much and as many at one time as is possible.

Water's Illusion Egg flows off away from the egg it had been nuzzling against, transparent depths rippling with small little cracks that seem in no hurry to become anything more than what they are. It settles into a pool of comforting sand, again content to grow silent and still.

Holly is gripping her hands together, nearly hopping with excitement. "I think we're going to see an impression!" The girl is just full of insights. "Ohh... Neil! This is wonderful, isn't it? The very stuff of life!" She'd squeal, but that'd just be /too/ annoying.

Kishairyn isn't going to run. At this point, if she tried, she'd end up on her tail end on the sands. She's treating the dragonet with the air of one dealing with a very small, very deadly predator. No sudden moves, that's the key. Lovely as the green is ... but the most dangerous ones always are. "Cera ..." she murmurs, just a touch plaintively.

Nonam blinks. "I dunno....er...I think...Um..." Stammer. Blush. Look. Nonam the Light Bulb Face. "I....sometimes they seem to pick...then move away....or...it's happened before, anyway..." Then he glances at Taire. "Wha, er......um... I ...yeah, I'm...a healer. It's what I do." The sound of his name reluctantly causes his eyes to tear away from the green. "What?"

If one peers closely enough at its shimmering surface, perhaps the faint movements of Fire's Oracle Egg could reveal the candidates' futures. At the very least, it holds beneath its surface the future of one lad or lass.

Aryion watches the green carefully. "I think that she knows who she wants, don't you?" He asks the girls beside him. He is holding his breath, waiting for the first impression. Who's it going to be..

Thanial is used to being ignored by Taire, and snorted at, and scolded. So he takes it all in stride, turning to beam at Fyne. "My side, always." Which means that if Taire's gone, Fyne's the next sacrificial lamb. Or Nonam.. anyone but him. The green is eyes cautiously, appreciation once again taking over seeing as she's safely on the other side of the Sands, near... Kishairyn, Cera, and Sanna?

Clandestine Vivien Green Dragonet knows what is in the stars for her now. Drawn, as if by destiny, she moves rap2idly across the sands, bridging the final gap between her and the willowy candidate with eyes of amber-gold. Standing resolutely before Kishairyn, she gives a soft croon of discovery and delight as Impression is made.

Gabriela chuckles toward Razel. "I'm with you," she murmurs. "Give me the heat of the decks over these granules any day." She sighs and looks toward the green. "Look... Is that one going for Kisha?" she whispers to the three surrounding her. "I can't tell... There are too many sharding candidates around. She nods toward Maeko. "He can't heal people while he has to be on the sands." She nods again at the weaver, sighing with relief.

Cera blinks at the green again, then looks at Kisha, and slowly a warm smile spreads across her face as she leans a bit closer to the ... now rider, there is no doubt. "See, you're going to be just fine. There was never a need to worry."

"Kiiiiiiiish!" Anki crows, punching the air with one fist. "You doll you, congratulations! She's lovely!" Well, Kishairyn already knew that. "Did you see?" she asks, nudging the guard in the side with an elbow.

Razel is about to add a second analogy to that, but instead, she suddenly blanches and manages a squeak of protest! "Oh no! She's gonna maul Kisha!" But what's this? Instead, the dragonet looks to be more willing to snuggles up to the ex messenger than anything else. "Oooh! She impressed without a single scratch!"

Menacion slumps more, bending at the knees slightly. Reducing his height by about six inches. "There. Better? I'd sit down, but that would make it easier for me to be caught." A quick glare is shot over his shoulder. "It wasn't /my/ idea to wear your perfume. It's your own fault." Head swivels back, about to yell at Kish to run again and--too late. "Dear Faranth. It's got her...The green got Kish." He amplifies for Anki's benefit.

Ganorene still clings excitedly, babbling like a brook and not caring how much skin she tears off of Neil this evening. "Oh, look, that was Kisha! You know, the Weaver gal! Go Kishairyn go! Green green green!" she cheers, enthusiastically bracing herself against the small lad and jumping.

Taire eyes the stuttering healer. "Ugh... what use are you?" With yet another of those infamous snorts, she deliverable turns her head away from Nonam, thoroughly dismissing him. With a roll of her eyes, she takes a long step back, headless of just whose sanded foot she stomps upon, if she gets any. "Boys." *sniff* And as she is about to impart some more nasty words, she catches sight of Kisha and the green out of the corner of her eye. "RUN!" she cries, only to watch an impression actually happen. "Aw, shells... to late..."

S'lan smiles as the first of the dragonnets impresses and watches for a few moments a the impression sinks in before going out to the new pair

The time ... has come. There is no waiting, not for the Dark Warrior, now. The egg cracks asunder as the comet seems to strike upon its surface, and from amidst the shell, a dark bronze dragonet emerges. He waits not at all, but rushes towards a knot of candidates, and bowls one over, one of the Bitran Candidates. He oofs, staggering back, and in this rather abrupt fashion is Impression made, the dragonet standing over the poor lad.

Sanna's jaw drops, and she's quit to step away from the newly impressed rider - leaving her for a moment with her lifemate. And Sanna's hand reaches for Cera's, although her gaze doesn't drop from the action on the sands. "Kisha...." Among the wild calls of delight, Sanna's is no more than a whisper. Gosh. This is actually happening, and an impression has brought that home.

"Eh?" Maeko glances back, and finds Nonam; ah, the spoken-of one. "Oh! Nothing. Just mentioning healers in case a mauling /should/ happen to occur- you're a bit busy, I'd say." A shrug, as her sentence trails off.. oh, hey! That's Kish! With the green! "Congratulations, Kisha!" She calls with a wave and a grin; other eggs are momentarily forgotten as she settles in once more with a smug grin.

"Kishairyn Impressed!" Gabriela squeaks as she bounces in her sandals and reaches to tap Aryion on the arm, as if he couldn't see for himself. "Congratulations!" Of course, with Gab's voice, that congrats probably didn't carry far enough. "What's the green's name? What's Kisha's new name?"

Aryion watches as the green chooses Kisha. "Alright Kisha! Congratulations! She is a beauty there Kish!" Ary cheers loudly for the former messenger before turning back to the girls beside him. "Now see, that wasn't all that bad was it? Look at that bronze.. shards, now that was a fast impression."

Nonam's head whips back around, to where the green was. And he frowns disappointedly. "Hey! I missed it! I looked away for a moment and I missed it!" Gee, you'd think he'd never been to a Hatching before. The whine about missing it was aimed at Fyne, Nial and Taire, then he calls out: "Congratulations!"

Fynelox's turn to be squeezing fingers this time, his cry astonishingly loud from the usually quiet herder boy. "Go Kish!!" Then a moment of consternation crosses his face as he peers at the other candidates clustered around him. "Oh wait... does this mean Kish will be going proddy someday?" Is that fear or just horror on the boy's face? "Oh /no/!"

V'len is beside himself. "A weaver! She chose a weaver! Well, of course." He's nearly dancing on the sands, even though /his/ boots are nice and thick. "Oh, this is perfect." It seems V'len has very conveniently forgotten all the little comments that brand new weyrling has made to him. Kisha was a perfect choice.

Isryn stares, lips parting, struggling for words, and then closing again ... but possibly only for the sheer amount of breath she'll need. "Gwaedoliaeth!" she carols merrily, the grin plastered on her features for the green alone. She'll remember others in a few ... maybe ...

M'lan chuckles softly, and says to V'len ironically, "Told you the Bitran lad would..." He pauses, trailing off, and grins towards Isryn, "Now isn't that going to be interesting...wonder what the Hall will say..."

Cera turns back around to Sanna, that same warm smile still on her face, as she squeezes the other woman's hand. And, seeing prudence in Sanna's moves, Cera too, moves away from the new Impressed pair. "See, no maulings, Sanna. I think it was just Kisha's way of working out her nervousness." Cera blinks, and turns back to Kish... Isryn. "Gwae... gwaedo... " Cera blinks and just bobs her head up and down. Um, yeah...

Murkat has disconnected.

The sudden rise of excitement resulting from two rapid Impressions has lent even more energy to the roiling weather rippling across the surface of Child of Sadness Egg. If such violence continues, surely the fragile shell will be irrevocably damaged.

Thanial looks up in time to see... "Kish!!! Oh Shells, Kis- err Isryn! Congratulations... and Gwaedoliaeth!" Now isn't that a mouthful.. Nial probably butchered it slightly, but the well meaning is still evident in each syllable.

Murkat has connected.

Larger cracks murmur across Flower Brides Egg's radiant surface, splitting along the seams of apricot and aquamarine in equal measure. Petal-shaped pearl's garland spills away from its golden brow in a flutter of shards, showering the sands with fractured hues of rose and frond. Newborn angles and curves of pale saffron begin to emerge from egg's birthing dew, thus revealing the shining maiden.
Bounteous Guinevere Gold Dragonet
Pale saffron spills fluid luminescence over her sovereign headknobs' angles and salient neckridges' curves, drizzling rivulets of tawny hue across the understated athleticism of queen's countenance while gilt tones soften the firmness of muscles in belly and haunch. Fragile silver petals, nourished by moonlight, bloom across wingsails' tender membranes as virent fronds stretch along edges to sparkle at wingspars' very tips. Motes of rose gold caress her muzzle's gentle slope before further dusting the slender length of tail with a wispy shimmer. Heavy talons alone are touched by undiluted aureate glow, their metallic sharpness a fierce gleam against hide's ensemble.

Oh! The green impressed! "Congratulations, Kisha! She's absolutely amazing!" Luchesi cheers, hands clapping for the once-weaver. Eyes flick to the other egg hatching before returning to Kish-- Isryn, rather -- as she shouts out the name. Oh-- and now the gold's hatched!

M'lan nods to S'lan and L'lia-- he'll let them get Kishairyn-- or more appropriately now, Isryn-- while he watches, then blinks as the gold hatches, "Ooh, look at her."

Taire winces as Fyne clamps down on her hand, and then she swishes to the side to purposely nudge him. "Proddy? You just would think of something like that now, wouldn't you? She /Impressed/." Whether that is a good or a bad thing is yet to be defined. "Isryn? Isryn?" Ohhh, that would be her Kisha now. "And who?" She won't even try to wrap her tongue about the dragonet's name.

S'lan chuckles at Isryn calls out her lifemates name and moves over to her. "Congratulations Kish. WE'll need to move you and your beautiful lifemate over there so as to be out of the way of the rest.

Menacion shuffles. Aw, shells, they got Kish. And he was starting to like that gal. Her sanity will be hopelessly corrupted by this. A /green/. Faranth save the Weyr. Head shakes, lips moving as he tries to pronounce that dragon name. Hrmmm...Not quite working. "The gold?" Well, he doesn't have to worry about /that/ one.

S'lan points Kish and her lifemate off to one side of the sands.

Isryn's attempt to do a jig was a bad idea, all things considered, and she nearly ends up on her knees on the sands. "Shells, sorry ..." For a moment, her eyes lift for a bright grin at her fellows. "She, ah ... oh, come on, it's not that hard ..." But she'll instruct everyone in her lifemate's name later. Ad nauseum. She trips off at S'lan's call.

Hanz is unable to hold back the gasp of awe that escapes his lips as the gold dragonet appears. "By Faranth!" And what a beauty too, no doubt would be with Suyinth for a mother. "Suyinth has outdone herself", no comment about V'len's lifemate's help in the matter. "Love, she's just /beautiful/", he tells Siani...tone filled with admiration.

Gabriela grins and shakes her head at Ary. "It's all going so fast now..." she replies with a smiling, swooning sigh. Overhearing Fyne's words, she grimaces toward the herder and mumbles something at, "Now there's another aspect to make the weird Fort Weyr even weirder." She looks toward the weaver-messenger-turned-weyrling with a grin. "Gwa... Gwa....Gwhat? Well, whatever her name is, she's pretty." Blinks bring her eyes back to the eggs as she whispers, "There's the gold." Well, doh.

Aryion listens as the new rider speaks the green's name. "Thats a long one there. Girls look!" He points excitedly toward the gold, "The gold has hatched. Isn't she beautiful." Amazing.. simply amazing. Blue eyes twinkle as he watches everything seem to occur all at once.

V'len just gasps. Yes, this is Yevgeth's daughter without a doubt. "Oh... look..." He gulps, and then glances around, sure everyone is just in awe of the sire that could spawn this incredible beauty.

V'zan begins counting on his fingertips. "Two down, and how many to go? One, two, three... I'm going to need to borrow some more fingers, P'tala."

Anki isn't even going to try and pronounce that. Nevertheless, as her fist sinks she tries another cheer. "Isryn!" Sinking down on her heels she sighs happily. "Just think. The weyr will have to live with her now. In a Turn she'll be the richest person at the weyr." Blink, blink. "What did you say? The gold?" She turns to have a good look, a small grin showing. "Pretty, isn't she?"

Nonam blinks. "What was that name again?" He fumbles it the first time he says it, but then he gets it right. "Gwaedoliaeth! Congratula-" The second congratulations is broken off as he turns his head to see the gold emerge from her flower. "Oh. Wow...."

Thanial laughs at Fynelox, eyes dancing. "Oh and if you Impress a male, Fyne, you'll be out there chasing her when she's proddy." And doesn't that sound like divine justice. Thank goodness there's a Taire-barrier between them.. that's what keeps him bold in his remarks. Fyne can't kick her through Taire. Turning back to the egg, he blinks. Where did that little gold come from. Stunned, his mouth just drops open in surprise... "Don't leave us Taire, don't leave us." Deathgrip is tightened on the messenger’s hand.

L'lia follows behind S'lan smiling at the newly impressed, Lil was balling when she impressed. "Congratulations Isryn..." She can do this really! She walks off with Isryn and S'lan ready to help again soon.

Neil bounces again. Up, down. Up, down. One might get dizzy, watching him. He nudges Holly, "Look at the gold!" Then, he nudges the other girl, as well. "Look at her...!"

Even Razel has to admit that the gold dragon is certainly beautiful, however, that doesn't mean that she'll be running up to greet her. Instead, she continues her wincing steps; digging her feet deeper into the hot sands; feet that are beginning to blister slightly. "I just hope the rest impress quickly, so that maybe I can have some of that numbweed Maeko.."

Bounteous Guinevere Gold Dragonet frees herself fully from the confines of her shattered egg, drawing herself upwards as she shakes droplets of birthing moisture from her glistening hide. Several steps are taken, tentative at first, until steady footing atop the sands is found. Moving slowly forward, she swings her head from side to side, taking in the nature of her surroundings.

Apple of Hesperides Egg pauses, shivering on the edge of teasing and offering, danger swelling in a timeless adventure -- the quest of a lifetime. Eternity awaits inside a crimson shell, which firmly and vehemently begins to crack.

Ignoble Eidolon Egg wriggles, until its weight settles deeper in the bed of sand. Now at an awkward angle, it stays. It lurks.

Layers of smooth red peel and fall away, claws and hide appearing through the ever-thinning shell of Apple of Hesperides Egg. A shivering prize hovers along the lines of eternal youth and full life for an instant, then the crimson ovoid is reduced to shards, its occupant expelled permanently from its core.
Celibate Galahad Brown Dragonet
Warm earth reaches fingers from his belly towards his spine, branches of sylvan brown twining lines around themselves to link across a muscled body. Delicate chains of chocolate frosting glaze his wingspan and neckridges, curling around his tail in a hypnotic spiral of decadence, winding and disrupting the stern loam of his stomach. Up, up! A triumphal march of frothy near-white dances high along the proud-held neck, crowning the dragon with angelic purity.

Fractured Symmetries Egg seems to glimmer, to twich, the patterns upon the silvered shell gleaming within the light. Something responds, within. Something stirs.

Maeko hops back and forth, raising her eyebrows as golden hide is next spotted. "Beautiful, indeed!" Is Maeko's response to Aryion, eyes held enthralled; for what girl can resist golden hue? Maeko, that's who. Shardit. Beautiful or not, Maeko's more inclined to hide now than ever, though her nervous dance has been reduced to a twitching at the ankles and wrists. Backwards hop, to place the other three in her line of vision. "Agh. Me too. But," And her voice takes on a light, sardonic tone, "We can't /rush/ them, now can we?" Cough. Er. "Hey, look! A brown, too!"

Holly sees the gold. If the sands weren't so hot, she'd swoon. That'd be nice and dramatic. "Oh, what a picture of grace and loveliness!" She's bouncing too, though, little puffs of sand rising up from around her.

Cera is turning to glance at Sanna now, when she spots that the gold has hatched. With a blink, Cera looks at the dragonet, and gulps. This one for -certain- is heading towards one of the women... but... no. Sanna. Gotta make sure Sanna's okay. "Now, look at the gold, what definitive coloring," she comments in a forced voice.

Menacion smiles at that. "And there might be hordes of riders all trying to get their marks back. If they ever figure out how she's cheating at cards." He shakes his head again, grinning. "I fear for the Weyr at her first flight." Head swivels to peer at the gold again. "I suppose it is. It's... rather sparkly..." Menace's attempt at complimenting the thing.

Sanna's gaze leaves Isryn at the shouts of others, shifting about to track down the gold. "Oh, Cera, she's just lovely." It's an echo of a dozen comments before her own, but perhaps no less true for it. Again she leans sideways to peer around the fisher boy, tracking the dragonet's movements wish dark eyes.

Gabriela nods slowly at Aryion's words, eyes still wide. She scratches her arms and then fiddles with the belt around her waist. "And look-- there's a brown. He's lovely, too." Eyes waver from one dragonet to the next, then from candidate to candidate, as she wipes sweat from her forehead. "I still can't believe Kisha... er... whatever her name is now. Wow. It is amazing..."

Fynelox eases up on his hand hold, looking apologetic as he realizes, but then he shrugs at Taire. "I can't help what pops into my head! Come on, just think of what that's gonna be like." He gives a shiver despite the heat and looks back over at the newly bonded pair. "Congrats..uh.. Isryn! And to Gwae-uh..your dragon too!" Looking sheepish, he starts scanning the sands for whatever just hatched and again his breath hitches up. "It's the gold!" Okay, now would probably be a good time to shove Taire forward too. "And a brown!" Then he gives Thanial a confused gaze. Plans changed? Oh well. At least he can still hold her hand. Good enough.

P'tala holds her hands upwards, loaning them to V'zan. "You can borrow mine, but only for a little while. I think we have enough between us... Else we'll have to steal us a candidate or something." Ooh, fun.

Fortune's Beckoning Egg catches Rubkat's rays as it rocks, throbbing with the promise of life within. It's only a little bit longer now...

Aryion gives the girl's hand a squeeze as he watches the gold take in everything. He sure knows that feeling all to well. Ary gasps as the brown hatches mumbling to his companions, "That is a nice looking brown there too." Eyes dart toward his favorite egg, nothing yet.

Zanoot watches a the Gold and Brown dragonette emerge and begin their search for their lifemate. Her feet dance almost without her conscious thought being involved now.

Priestess of Avalon Egg trembles again before falling still. All must wait for their time and the time is not now, not yet.

Razel's eye catches on the brown; a small smile sliding across her lips as she notices its coloring - the same shade as her ever famous snickerdoodles. Hmm, he almost looks good enough to nibble at! Ahem. Well, maybe not... Eyes swing back and forth between gold and brown, and she bites at her lip, wondering who they'll go for this time. There's something about that brown though, that seems to promise a life which includes more excitement /outside/ of a kitchen...

"Go on, you Impress her," Anki urges Menacion. She'll even help out with the operation and the like. Her expression settles into uncertain lines, covetousness warring with hope for the other Candidates. "I..well, she /is/ sparkly, yes," she agrees. Thank you, guard. "And beautiful. And look at those talons!" She most definitely approves of them.

V'zan thwaps the offered hands. "No candidate-stealing. Or weyrling-stealing, for that matter. We don't need you corrupting any innocent minds, P'tala. We've already got T'var for that. And R'kan, from what I've seen lately."

Ganorene jumps again at the sight of the gold, trying to attract attention to herself. Up and down, up and down, she gets glimpses over the taller candidates. "Oooh, she's pretty. Adorable, even."

Grace and lovelieness? Chuckling a moment, Neil /looks/ at Holly, before nodding at Ganorene, "That she is. Wonder who'll get her." Least Neil doesn't have to worry about /that/.

Taire winces as now her other hand is in the midst of being crushed. Great. By the time this is all over, all three of them won't have much left of their digits. "I ain't going nowhere," she admonishes to Nial. "I'll stand my ground and maybe do a little scampering if the situation calls for it. Rather not get slashed or ate." She really wouldn't. Eyes warily track the gold as quite a few of the femmes obviously seem drawn to it. Yet another lethal baby dragon if you ask her, though admittedly sparkly and pretty. "Fyne, you shouldn't even be thinking about that kind of stuff. But, naturally, you went there." Alas, she can't help but quirk her lips a bit for a smile.

Gabriela nods slowly at Aryion, smiling. "Now, see, I will motion the brown toward you, Ary, because that wouldn't be as scary as you proddy, no offense," she tells him with a wink. She bites her lip, still fidgeting in her place, and she's managed to calm down since her I'm-not-leaving rebellion in the Stands, having forgotten about their audience.

Siani does a very unWeyrwoman like thing and actually bounces up and down on the sands a bit, holding onto Hanz. "Ooo.. oh! Gold and Brown.. both are incredible. I can't wait to see who they pair with. It's better than any Turnday!"

V'len glances over to V'zan. T'var and R'kan? Hmm... they've been his best buds lately. "Oh, V'zan! They don't corrupt, do they?" He turns to grin at T'var happily. Nope, he can't imagine corruption here. He's just being ... appreciated!

Fire's Oracle Egg pops and crackles, more minute fractures appearing on the surface, further foretelling the ovoid's inescapable fate.

Celibate Galahad Brown Dragonet swishes his tail around, examining it with great diligence. It's a tail. And it's pretty. Vigilantly raising his neck to attend to his instinctive duties, he nevertheless shies away from the crowd and the half of the species he so fears. Girls. Oh mommy help him now.

Menacion peers over his shoulder back at Anki. "The first only male goldrider? I think not." A little late for an operation, isn't it? After all, Anki doesn't have a knife or any other implement. "Beautiful? I dunno. I have trouble with dragon aesthetics." And human ones, too. "The talons are certainly shiny. There's a lot of red in the rest of her, though..."

Suyinth croons encouragement to her children, just as eager as her lifemate to see who they're going to choose. Wings fan the sands a bit, sending a slight wave of wind and grains towards the eggs and candidates. A dusting though, not a sand storm.

Maeko nudges Aryion with a wink, nodding towards the brown. "There you go, Ary. Brown for you? Better than green; I'd hate to see you proddy." A grin at Gabriela. Her sentiments exactly. "Unless you'd prefer to impress the gold, though I hardly think you're suited." Cough. Could be arranged, but we'll not mention that.

Cera shakes her head away from the gold, and motions over to the ... brown. Okay. That's an odd behaving one. "Sanna, look there. A brown, as well."

T'var cannot -quite- stifle a laugh. Corrupt? "Oh, no, of course they don't, my dear V'len." It's a neat trick, how he can purr that name without missing a beat. "Corruption is such a negative thing, don't you think?" Yes, appreciation is sooo much better. Swish.

V'zan eyes V'len and shakes his head sadly. "Let's hope his dragon has more sense than he does," he quietly murmurs to noone in particular. All attention is then turned back towards the magnificent young gold occupying the sands.

Hanz chuckles, grin on his face getting wider if possible. "A wonderful day indeed", giving Siani's waist a little squeeze. Tis warm out here but it's so incredibly exciting to watch firsthand the eggs, the dragonets, the interaction with the candidates.

P'tala recovers and wriggles her fingers again, sighing. "Oh, and I had so planned on that nice looking lad from Boll impressing a bronze and... keeping him. Though if all the beautiful men at this weyr are corrupters, I almost wish I was innocent again." Siiigh.

Aryion simply smiles at Gabby and Maeko before nodding. "None taken.. I can't imagine me proddy either." He shudders, scary thought that. He lets out a chuckle, "No thanks, look over at Menace, I think that he has a better bid for the gold then I do."

Nonam blinks and looks from one dragon to the other. "How do you keep track of both of them like this." He asks, quietly, not really expecting an answer. "That gold is lovely...I want to see who she Impresses...but the brown is wonderful too." Oh the choices.

Bounteous Guinevere Gold Dragonet tips her muzzle up to look at her dam, creeling softly before starting out on her journey across the sands. One step, then another. Her pace isn't anxious, though it does seem purposeful as she heads toward the candidates, eyes a whirling with a questing gleam. There? Or perhaps there? A pairing of two are spied and something within tugs her along.

M'lan sniffs at P'tala, and murmurs, "I'm not a corrupter." Stop laughing. He chuckles softly, glancing towards the gold again, gaze lingering briefly, "She's got a hint...look't her."

S'lan chuckles as he glances over his shoulder to see whats going on on the sands.

Yevgeth croons softly to his children and children to be. Proud poppa eyes the drama on the sands, then swings his great head around to the momma, pride evident in his eyes. Yes, she did have something to do with this, too.

Thanial relaxes his grip slightly... oh good, Taire's not leaving them. "He probably wouldn't be thinking about it if some other nameless candidate didn't go around and kiss him every chance she got," is his stark retort, eyes dancing with suppressed laughter as he scans the Sands surreptitiously.

Gabriela looks toward the brown with a furrowed forehead. "What's his problem?" she murmurs with a giggle. "He is a handsome one, though." Eyes turn curiously back to the gold, as if begging the little creature to move faster. She grins and nods at Maeko's words, chuckling softly. "Oh, wouldn't Ary just make the prettiest goldrider, though!" she murmurs to the healer with a wink. She turns toward Menace, nodding. "Yeah, I'd more quickly see him in a dress."

Anki can run out and find a pair of scissors? "She certainly does, doesn't she?" the weaver answers dreamily, eyeing the queen from her little spot on the sands. Idly shifting from foot to foot, she pins her attention on each step, almost wiggling in time. Until, that is, a mote of sand lands in her eye and she blinks furiously, muttering something naughty underneath her breath as she tries to blink it clear.

Sanna's grip on Cera tightens as she obediently peers over to the brown, tilting her head for a better view. "It must be so confusing for them, don't you think? Alone out there?" With a thousand clamoring spectators and white-robed candidates to choose from. But dark eyes slip back towards the young queen once more, her progress observed. "She's a little more certain though, isn't she? She knows what she's got to find."

S'lan gets to where he is leading Isryn and her lifemate and begins his instruction by showing her how much and at what pace to feed her.

The light hits the Fractured Symmetries Egg just right, and the scarlet mark upon its surface, its very flaw, seems to shimmer, to writhe. But only briefly.

Suyinth shifts closer to Yevgeth, giving the 'Fabio' of bronzes a nuzzle as she curls her neck along his in a draconic embrace. Yes, he gets some credit and kudos for producing such wondrous children. The ones to come will be equally glorious, of this she had no doubt.

Menacion catches the glances at him out of the corner of his eye, swiveling his head and focusing his hearing. "Hey! I'm not the dress wearing type. Don't hold your breath waiting." For once the prohibition about leaving the sands might be in Menace's favor. No scissors for Anki. "You all right?" Blink. Wow. He hasn't heard /that/ one since he left the guard barracks.

"True, true. Menace is better suited to the goldrider lifestyle, except," And Maeko indicates the traveling gold with a bob of her head, hands buried rather monk-like in their opposite sleeves, clutching unseen at wrists. "I think she doesn't agree." A moment's pause, and she grins. "Menace looks better in a dress, anyway. No offense again, Ary, but you should stay male." Odd statements, but her mind's not all there this day, can you tell? Of /course/ not. She's normal. Average. And ignoring the crowd. There's just too /many/ of them.

Cera flicks her gaze to Sanna, before looking back to the gold. "Uh, yes, it appears that way." Cera blinks, and gulps quietly, before reaching out to pat Sanna's shoulder with her other hand. "Things are fine. If she knows what she wants, all the better than just wandering around aimlessly and angry. So... this is a good sign." As if Cera has any draconic knowledge...

Aryion groans, "No I would /not/ make a pretty goldrider." What has gotten into these two, the heat of the sands? Yup, they are delirious. "Um, ladies, would you like it if I moved right over there, and left you all to the dragon's, without your Ary shield?" He winks at them both before making as if to move away. Well, at least Maeko seems to have come to her senses.

Zanoot watches the Golden queen as she moves to a different part of the sands. Maybe its cooler over there than it is here.

Fynelox overhears the murmur from Thanial and goes beet red. Maybe he can claim being overheated or something, but probably nobody is surprised because the boy is known to blush at the drop of a hat or towel for that matter. "I wasn't trying to think about it, Taire. It just happened alright? Why don't you keep your eyes on the gold over there." He can relax on that topic, since he's safe from the queen for sure. The brown however is given a wary glance, but he grins slightly since it obviously appears as nervous of females as he himself had been when he first arrived at the Weyr. The twitchings of his favorite egg still uncracked draws his gaze as well, making him feel slightly dazed and flustered, unsure of where to keep his attention.

Burning Coals' Challenge Egg shudders in place, the grains of sand showered over its shell shifting and moving downwards. Brighter, brighter, the egg seems to glow, quietly inviting people to watch, admire... and meet the fate that is inevitable. A discovery of contents in the heart of the coals.

Fortune's Beckoning Egg shudders in the sands, light glinting almost blindingly for just an instant, and then quickly fading. Yes... destiny will soon reveal what is hidden within.

Celibate Galahad Brown Dragonet sneezes, fanning his wings out and shuddering at the sudden mommy-prompted sandstorm. The weather is bad, and he needs shelter. The brown rights himself, dragging a train of egg goo, shards, and tail as he treks gamely towards a beacon to be found. Outward! Onward! And 'ware those female things...

Razel simply stands back and watches; her nerves now causing her to halt all chatter and simply stare... The hand still grasped within Aryion's palm is squeezed again, and an odd glazed look comes over the teens emerald eyes. A dreamy look, perhaps; as she imagines the two possible scenarios this hatching will deliver. But which is the one she now dreams of?

Gabriela giggles toward Menace, blushing softly as the guard catches their conversation. "I've seen weirder around here..." she replies with a light whistle before turning toward Maeko with a grin and nod. "Yeah, protecting the sands and all, and Ary probably doesn't have the legs for a dress." And Menace does? She shakes her head quickly at Ary, reaching out to grab his arm. "Nodon'tgo!" Without her shield, she'll be able to see the Galleries... and they'll be able to see her.

Yet still does Pinnacled Spires Egg remain silent, motionless, unbreachable. Ancient walls will not so easily yield to the passing whims of time.

Taire quirks a glance over her shoulder to Nial, feet beginning to pick up off the sands intermittently. "I'll have you know that Fyne was the one that started it all.... Maybe if you ask him real nice, he'll give you a right lip-smacker as well." Spoken true and calm, 'til she turns away to eye the dragonets once more. "But I don't want to look at the gold. It might think I'm trying to make eye-contact and then it'll come over here. And I do /not/ want it to come over here. You might want to impress it, but I don't."

Nonam just watches now, his lower lip curling to be placed between his teeth as his head swivels this way and that, trying to watch everything all at once.

Luchesi finds herself on tiptoes, stretching to see above the head of another candidate that decided the best place to stand was directly in front of her. Focus dances between the gold and the brown, trying to judge where they're headed and who might be their likely victims.

Bounteous Guinevere Gold Dragonet has indeed found certainty in her seeking as her talons push the sand out from underneath her paws, tailing drawing designs in the wake left behind her. Closer still she draws to the pair of female candidates. No hesitation. Head tilts a fraction downward, muzzle angling down to bring her faceted orbs in contact with eyes of liquid brown. Journey continues, though the ends draws nigh.

M'lan bites his lip suddenly, his gaze going still, as he glances towards the gold. He lifts a hand to his brow, and murmurs something under his breath.

Tragic Redemption Egg is still there, upon the sands, resting a few feet from its brethren. And even though it tries to go unnoticed, cracks span its surface as the occupant within rises to the call of destiny, unable to escape what the future both promises and threatens.

Cera blinks -YET- again at the gold and looks to Sanna, then back to the gold, then back at the rest of the Candidates. "Okay, no matter what... we go over there... with Taire, together or alone. Got it?"

Maeko has sense. And Maeko can be the shield (Super Maeko); though don't expect much protection with her skinny stature. She's simply realized that whether she walks off these sands alone or paired.. well, she's realized something, she's just not sure what. Eyes glance over the brown again, and she smiles. "Odd behavior or not, he's a handsome one. Maybe just a bit shy." Of those female things, of course. Eyes switch to Aryion, and the corner of her mouth quirks. "No, probably not the legs for a dress- though it could always be lengthen to the floor. It's the walk that would give him away." That male walk, you know.

Holly slaps a palm to her forehead, tilting her head back with a gasp. "She's finding her lifemate! The gold is going to choose!" She almost looks as if her knees might buckle. The drama is just too much.

Anki bites her lip as the gold veers to the two female candidates, eyes narrowing a little against the heat-haze of the Sands. "Who d'you think she's going for, Menace?" she asks softly. "Seems like Sanna and Cera in that direction." Pause. "Stand still, you bunch of wet nellies!" she calls out.

Aryion laughs as Gabby places a death grip on his arm. "Okay, I'm not going anywhere.." He lets the sentence trail off as his eyes watch as one egg in particular starts moving. His friends somewhat forgotten, he watches the egg, blue eyes never leaving the shell as cracks start to form along its edge.

Menacion eyes the gold thoughtfully, tracing a path. "Yeah, I'd say so too. The Telgar lad in back may act womanish, but I think he's really a man. Just what the Weyr needs. An opposite for Karnie." He raises his voice. "Run!" In contradiction to Anki. "In separate directions!"

Razel blinks, which shatters her gazed look, as she reaches down to scratch at one scabbed knee. Not so almighty pretty right now, is she? No, in fact, she looks less like the budding young woman, and more like the Raz of old - the one who'd groom runners in shredded trous, and run amok with her long hair flying like a banner behind her. "The sand's making me itch," is all she gets out, too hot to say much more.

Gabriela turns to look toward the brown, nodding at Maeko's words. "He seems like quite a loner," she replies with a smile before looking down at Ary's robe-covered legs. "Yeah, I suppose so. And all the other male-esque things." She turns toward the gold, biting her lip. "Look! She's over by Cera and Sanna..." She grins up at at Aryion, chuckling, before looking toward Razel with a nod. "The cool air in the bowl will be such a relief after this."

Thanial splutters, "But I don't want to kiss Fyne..." Turning, he looks over Taire's head to make eye contact with the herder, "No offense, Fyne. I'm sure you're a dandy kisser. I just don't want to find out." As if Fyne wants to kiss Nial. Blinking, he eyes the gold... by Cera and Sanna? "Boy, the action all seems to be on that side of the Sands." Thank Faranth. But wait, wasn't there another.. "The brown, the brown, where's the brown?" Panicked? Nial? Never.

Sanna nods absently to Cera, biting her lower lip as fingers absently wind around the other woman's. "Mmmmmm. To Taire." Her words are soft, though, and dark gaze is on the dragonet near to them, the bantering and shouting around her forgotten for a moment. That dragonet's awfully close.

Nonam smiles slightly, in Thanial's direction, though his eyes stay on the gold now, since it seems to be rapidly approaching some candidates. "You're just jealous of Taire." He comments, though his voice makes it sound like he's not really paying attention.

Egg's protection has been left and sands have been crossed. Not one to shy away from her destined fate in this world, Bounteous Guinevere Gold Dragonet now chooses the one who will equally share with her the future and all that it brings. No hesitation, no uncertainty, no doubts. A soft whisper of breath ruffles Sanna's untamable ebon curls while tail's slender length, flickering with those elusive motes of rose gold, curls around the candidate's ankles as Impression is made.

The frenetic storm continues to batter relentlessly 'gainst ovoid's striated surface, causing Child of Sadness Egg to violently rock to and fro on the troubled ocean of sand. With a final dramatic upsurge, shell is rent in twain as sea and stone are sundered from one another, enabling the fateful spark to breaks free at last and emerge from gloom into a hopeful new world.
Storm-Swept Tristan Blue Dragonet
Gentle ripples of aquamarine brilliancy accentuate the jaggedness of rocky headknobs and the swell of rolling neckridges, their brightness drowning beneath the tsunamic rush of stormy indigo along his slender back and haunches. Slim underbelly and dexterous forelimbs give way to the cobalt darkness of ocean's unknown depths, whilst far beyond water's reach lay the treacherous slate-grey thunderclouds of swiftly tapering wingsails. Only his daggered talons and spaded tailtip, the azure of untouched sky, escape the tempest's fury.

Ganorene looks anxiously at Neil, gripping his arm a little tighter and peering at the direction of the gold. She looks just a bit disappointed as the gold goes in another direction, but jumps up and down anyways. "Oh! It's moving! Oh, that's so sad... it's going towards those other girls, I think," she reports to Neil. Obviously, with her bouncing altitude, she can see much better. A couple oscillations later, then, "Sanna!!"

Blink. Blink. "Sanna!" Anki carols. "Go, girl!" she calls. "Congratulatioooooons!"

V'len has his hand clenched by the side of his face, as if rooting the dragonets on. Eyes are on the two on the sands, and then he breaks out in a loud cheer! "She found her! Sanna!" He makes a small hop, and then another, and then freezes, looking around. How... undignified. Hopefully no one saw that!

Fynelox gives the two attached to him a look of horror. "I don't /want/ to kiss Thanial. Ick!" The boy's opinion on that is certainly clear. "I wanted to uh, never mind." He clams up and yanks his gaze back to the other side where the next Impression occurs. "It's taken Sanna! Congrats!" he yells before glancing back to his closest friends. "Well, you didn't want her anyhow?"

Cera lets out a -deep- sigh, then blinks, backing away. "Then again," she murmurs... "I'm going over there. You stay here." Stepping backwards, Cera flicks eyes around, and slowly skirts the sands to find somewhere safe.

V'zan claps for Sanna, commenting loud enough for P'tala to hear. "Our little Sanna's definitely all grown up now. On a gold. Y'know what that means, don't you?"

Menacion slumps again. There goes another one. Kish and Sanna. Mustering up a smile, he cheers. "Hooray, Sanna." Forced enthusiasm. Hey. These dragons were supposed to take the other people away.

Zanoot continues to fan her robe at her feet and was hoping that the sands would be a little bit cooler over here but there really isn't much hope of a cool spot out here. She's glancing around to make sure of whats going on around her so she doesn't get trampled by candidates or dragonetts

Taire quirks a glance to the side as her name keeps getting uttered from over in that area. "Ohhhhh, don't you dare come over this a'way," she warns as growly as she can. Alas, it seems that the decision has been made and any progress towards her is belayed. "Sanna," she whispers as the gold claims her. "Oh wow." A few deliberate blinks as the boys near to her cause the girl to scowl. "Are you too sure? You both seem so hot on kissing." Speaking of hot, her feet lift with a bit more effort on the sands to alleviate the heat. She startles at Nial's exclamations over the brown. "Eh? What? Where?" *alarm*

Siani grabs Hanz by the cheeks and plants a big wet one on his lips before giving a happy cheer for the Impressing pair, "They're doing so well! I'm really pleased. What a wonderful way to end my time as Senior." Whoops, did she say tha outloud? Nah.

Maeko's hands go to her mouth, half-hiding the grin, and she laughs into her palm. "It's Sanna! The new goldrider. Sanna!" Master of the obvious as always, she snickers at the mental image of Aryion in a fancy ballroom dress, and she calls out. "Oh, congratulations!" Loud enough to carry over, but probably not heard- she seems lost in her lifemate's eyes. Glance to the three others, and one hand falls to hover over her stomach, attempting to calm the flutterings that stir once again. "Shardit. This feeling won't be gone 'till I'm back on that cool, stone floor of the bowl." A snicker, and she raises her feet again. "Nor will that feeling. My feet are /scorched/."

Sanna freezes, stock still for a moment, her lips silently mouthing words. And there's a radiant smile, as her hands move to touch her lifemate, to reassure herself of her reality. "Her... Her name is Teyrth!" And nobody else in the whole world exists but her.

M'lan blinks. And blinks again, a smile flickering over his features. He ignores the statements in his head and instead turns to slip out towards Sanna as he watches Impression occur. He slowly begins to approach, and murmurs, "Come on, lead your lifemate this way..." His hand rests gently on her shoulder, waiting for her to come out of the daze, and then will lead her over to the others.

Storm-Swept Tristan Blue Dragonet pauses momentarily to shake a few fragments of shell from his still-damp hide before twining his head around curiously, peering for anyone in need of assistance. Or anything tasty. Hmm, was that a bit of movement? The newly-hatched dragonet begins winding his way directly through the midst of a knot of candidates, ignoring the obvious in favor of a more elusive prize.

P'tala beams and cheers. "Sanna!" A brow is raised in V'zan's direction, and the girl nearly sniffles. "Sanna's all grown up and riding a-- oh, /you/," she says, glaring. "Don't you even think about it. I'm sure Noswaith likes Sanna too. Tch. /Men/." Eyes return to Sanna and the gold, and the newest Weyrling is congratulated with a jump. "Sanna and Teyrth!"

Gabriela gasps and grabs Ary's arm again, peering around behind him. "Look! It caught Sanna! The gold!" She sighs happily, calling out a quiet congratulations to the newly Impressed, before looking back to the brown and then to the blue. "And another one... He's handsome, too. Beautiful bunch of dragonets..." She looks toward Cera with a smile, waving if she wants to join the little group. She nods quickly toward Maeko, grinning. "I think mine are about to lose their feeling... and their skin."

S'lan glances at L'lia. "You wanna go get Sanna and her new lifemate over here? Anki grins in Sanna's direction, elbow finding Menacion'

V'zan merely replies, "Blame it all on Noswaith." Green and gold... oh my.

Anki grins in Sanna's direction, elbow finding Menacion's side again. "Isn't that a lovely name? In any case, oh stubble-covered one, aren't you starting to feel a little nervous?"

Aryion's eyes dart around to watch the impression of the gold to Sanna. Hands are dropped as he starts cheering for his friend. "Alright Sanna! Whats her name?" He calls out, doubting that he will be heard over the many cheers. Eyes dance back to gaze over the newest dragonet before flicking back with longing toward /the/ egg. Ary quickly looks down at Gabby, "I like the coloring on that blue one there. Nice, very nice."

Thanial has worked himself into a state of panic, so he almost misses Sanna's Impression. Almost. "Sanna!" he shouts joyously. "Sanna and Teyrth!" The little gold has chosen well. As for kissing, "We're hot to kiss girls, not each other." And just because it's Taire, he adds nastily, "And we weren't the only ones hot to steal kisses."

Tragic Redemption Egg's tendrils of delicate ivy part from the royal backdrop in a violent showering of shell shards. Scarlet fragments lie broken on the sands, unmendable. Leaving behind the bittersweet, yet sadly haunting perfection of her egg, Fated Igraine Blue Dragonet takes first one, then another step upon the sands as her search begins.
Fated Igraine Blue Dragonet
Pristine cyan illuminates the handsome lines of his plump muzzle and proud headknobs, darkening to sapphire where it touches the brawn of forelimbs and haunches. The generous curve of his neckridges glows a cerulean hue, echoed along the edges of both wings and spars before fading into the twilight of violet which spreads over each mainsail's ailerons. Curling tail remains true-blue, untouched by the unpolished gold of pointed talons.

Hanz finds himself laughing with delight and lifts Siani off the ground giving her one quick spin around as he returns the kiss all too happily. "Perfect....just perfect", setting her down and keeping an arm about her waist. Can't have her passing out on the sands now can we? ;)

P'tala rejoins promptly, "Noswaith is hardly to blame, Weyrleader. You're just in denial." Of course he is.

Nonam saw it that time! He lifts his hands to cheer for a moment. "Alright! Congratulations Sanna and Teyrth!" Could the older healer be relaxing enough to actually do things like 'cheer'? No, he's just frightened and nervous and embarrassed out of his mind. His face hasn't lost a hint of it's utter redness. "She's so beautiful!" His voice lowers as he says that, ending in an awe-filled tone. Oh, but wait...there's more, and he turns his head to look at them. "Hey, Fynelox." Tug. "Look at that blue. I bet he's got your number." Then Thanial: "Hey, maybe that brown's for you."

Razel brushes the last of sand from her knee as she rises to spy the impression. "Sanna? Wow!" She actually sounds more than happy, but relieved too. Another one down, and how many more to go? A rumble from her still queasy tummy. "Wish I had some food out here," she breathes, looking to Maeko, Gabby and Aryion to see what they're up to. Though in truth, she's too nervous to eat... Arg. Or do anything sensible other than dance on her feet and stare.

Cera glances over at Gabriela and waves in that direction, before eyeing the walls of the cavern. If she could just find a low enough ledge to sit on... Cera stands where she is for now, debating joining other people... or standing off alone. Choices, choices.

V'zan smirks, purposefully prodding P'tala. "Maybe this hatching will give me a few more reasons to get past that denial, eh? At least there's some here for you, too." He nods towards the blue. "That falls into your category, not mine."

:is boucing up and down, quite annoyingly for the others on the sands around her. "Oh, the excitement! The gold and now two blues!" Perhaps she should have left the klahpot alone before venturing out on the sands. Her hands are on either side of her face, just shaking her head in wonder.

Celibate Galahad Brown Dragonet sweeps towards hopeful isolation, charing beyond a line of candidates, towards a spot in the back. Evaluating, testing, he croons in light despair. The white bodies press around, then, there! Little feet stumble him towards a lonesome form, then give him ample brakes to reconsider. It's... a she. Cautiously, he steps forward, considering. It seems terribly perilous. So much peril.

Menacion oofs. Ow. Sharding bony elbows. "Teyrth? At least it's pronounceable." He grins, letting out a low-pitched bellow of congratulations. Well, Sanna looks happy, at least. "Me? Nervous? What for. When the next green out comes for /you/, I'm joining that group over there."

Luchesi claps and cheers for Sanna as the gold impresses, smiling at the serene happiness plain in her eyes. "Sanna! Congrats!" A beautiful pair they make! And the gold's got a name much easier to pronounce then Isryn's. Oh, lots of blues all of the sudden.

"More blue!" Maeko's hands clap together, and she grins at Gaby. "Well, those sandals can serve as a second skin 'till all yours grows back- except, by then, they'll probably be permanently attached." Ever dropped a mark down a cast of a broken arm? Don't. Trust her on this one- you'll have to have it cut from your skin. (ew) "Neh. Food, hm? Not a bad idea. Though I don't think it would stay down long."

Poor Holly. She's so hyper. Not that Neil is very much different. He hops back and forth, and calls out, "Hurrah!" before turning and saying to Holly, "Wonder who's next?"

Sanna starts slightly as the outside world impinges, turning to look up to M'lan with an almost surprised blink. Oh, other people exist. That's right. And with a radiant smile for the bronzerider, she obediently starts off to the edge of the sands, pace kept slow to match Teyrth's.

Storm-Swept Tristan Blue Dragonet has wriggled free of the bustling crowd, paying little attention to whomever he may have trod upon in the process. Bending and contorting to look this way and that, he seeks a special something lurking at the fringes, although he's perhaps not yet sure what, or who, it may be.

Fynelox confirms Thanial's words with another nod. "Not interested in him, not at all." He's definitely going to keep Taire between them if he can. Then he looks up again at another tug on his robe, blinking. "Blues? Where?" The frantic gaze makes him maneuver slightly back, slightly more behind the others he's standing with.

"I can't keep up with all of these dragons," Gabriela murmurs with a giggle, eyes fleeting from one to the next. At Aryion's words, she looks at the blue with a smile. "Oh, yes, it is quite lovely. And another one..." She smiles and lets out a deep breath. She raises an eyebrow at the brown. "At least he's finally coming toward the candidates," she whispers before looking around her. Maeko receives a giggle and nod. "We were all worried about maulings. We didn't know it was the heat we should worry about."

Taire just eyes Nial for a long moment. "Really?" She'll just have to ask him about that bit of gossip when all is said and done. And seeing as Cera is currently without a gold sniffle about her, the girl lifts a hand up to wave her over. Only thing is, it would he the hand that is still clutching tightly onto Fyne's hand. Blue(s) are eyed -just as dangerous as the larger ones, just as fast as the smaller ones.

P'tala leans back fully against V'zan, looking upwards with big green eyes. "Blues? You should know better, V'zan. I only go for yummy bronzeriders, remember?" The fact that the Weyrsecond is comparing the man to food should be a bit worrisome, one would think.

Holly is bouncing up and down, quite annoyingly for the others on the sands around her. "Oh, the excitement! The gold and now two blues!" Perhaps she should have left the klahpot alone before venturing out on the sands. Her hands are on either side of her face, just shaking her head in wonder.

Aryion gasps as the egg he has been watching hatches, a beautiful blue dragon emerging. Eyes dart back and forth between the moving dragonets on the sands, blue, brown, blue, he really doesn't know who to look at. "I know that feeling Gabby, I don't know what to look at, which /one/ to be precise. No, I always thought that you all were worried too much about being mauled."

V'zan simply rolls his eyes. "Celaenoth isn't quite as picky as you, m'dear. And where she leads, you follow."

M'lan leads Sanna to the side with her lifemate, his gaze flickering to the gold again, and then turns to glance at the eggs, watching the poor Candidates.

Fated Igraine Blue Dragonet stands still, taking in the sights of the sands stretching almost endless before him. The time has indeed come. There's no denying what has to be. Just... where, where is the one he must fine? Unsteady footfalls begin as the dragonet continues to gaze around, almost fretfully.

Cera looks around. Egads! So many dragons on the sands. Blue eyes flick towards the knot of other candidates... and soon, feet start taking her that direction whether she wants it or not. Perhaps, she'll get lost in the others, and go unnoticed. Licking her lips, Cera walks slowly, making sure to try and stay out of a searching dragonet's path.

A fine tracery of fissures now laces across the entire surface of Fire's Oracle Egg, but this mysterious seer will not so easily reveal the secrets lying within.

Thanial turns from Taire, his nastiness flying high above her head. Sigh. It's never as fun when that happens. "Hah! Could easily be after you," he retorts to Nonam. "Looks kinda like you." Well, okay, it doesn't look at all like Nonam, but Nial's not picky. "Or a blue -" Pause. "Wait, there's a blue? Egads, there's two of them!" Lovely they are, but Nial quakes just slightly. Where did they come from. He must have missed them in all the excitement.

P'tala smirks at the bronzerider, rolling her eyes. "As tasteless as Celaenoth is sometimes, she has no opinion as to who I run to the morning after." Though a certain look in her eyes might indicate that both of them should know who that is.

Nonam shakes his head. "No, no, they won't come for me. I'm too old." He is of the opinion that Pwylth is crazy. "You guys. Maybe you'll get the other blue, Taire."

Maeko bobs her head, beaming happily. "Oh, but mauling /is/ something to worry about- what if one of those dragonets happened to be wanting someone /behind/ one of us, and we didn't manage to get out of the way fast enough? That's what would happen." Such an optimistic outlook. But she's more watching a fiery-shaded egg with high hopes, and but a glance is given to most of the others. "That brown looks like he's close in choosing. I can't see who, though." Neck cranes, and she peers from squinted eyes.

Zanoot watches as the brown moves through a that line of candidates and comes dangerously close to her. She freezes in place her feet not moving on the sand anymore. Peril, fear, excitement, all fighting for dominance over her emotions. Is he looking for her or another. She looks around to see if there is another candidate near to them.

Fynelox erks as his hand is yanked upwards in a waving motion, looking around to see where it's being directed at. Then he too joins the wave. "Cera, come on over here!" he calls, just raising his voice enough to be heard. More the merrier he believes, more he can hide behind. Yeah. Oh wait, he hopes that the woman has forgiven him for the day before. Erp.

Holly is biting her finger now. It just wouldn't do to squeal on the sand, would it? "Neil! Neil! Do you believe this? It's like my great old auntie Sinila used to talk about! She said they'd just hatch and wander all over and then.. bam! pick a lifemate!" Not like everyone else told her the same thing. "Look at that one! And ... that one!"

Gabriela chuckles and nods at Aryion's words, eyes on the blues. "They look so clumsy," she murmurs softly and with a sigh, as if wishing to go help them along their way. She stays in her place, though. No way this girl's moving anywhere. She turns toward Maeko with wide eyes. "Well..." Gulp. "I guess we just make sure to run for numbweed if that happens?" She peers toward the brown. "Is he near who I think he is?"

Aha! I spy with my little eye... something worth chasing after. Both brave and impetuous, Storm-Swept Tristan Blue Dragonet is not one to be easily eluded. Swiftly-shuffling footsteps kick sand into the faces of nameless, faceless candidates as he veritably skips along towards his goal, who definitely shan't go unnoticed or uncaught.

Priestess of Avalon Egg twitches once more, the grains of sand falling from the nest that it's half buried in. Still, the time is not right though it fast approaches.

Celibate Galahad Brown Dragonet casts all morals aside, wielding his prowess with enthusiasm -- there's nothing wrong with /that/. He puts a paw forwards, looking up into the girl Zanoot's eyes. For there is only one punishment on Fort Weyr's sands...

Celibate Galahad Brown Dragonet shudders, a shiver traveling from his spine to his tail. Eyes quest for the perfect being -- the shape, the form of the beacon which lights his way -- and he finds something in the foreboding crowd of white bodies and hopeful souls.

Zanoot, stepping forward and smiling, gets his full attention: yes, he is happy to see her. His triumphant crow and her squeal are simultaneous, as Impression takes them both.

Taire turns a rather horrified look onto Nonam, "When ovines fly!" She shakes her head from side to side, causing her braids to writhe fitfully about. There is no way she'll end up with a blue... or a green, or brown... never even consider the bronze.. and seeing as the gold is already gone. She quirks a glance to Nial, quizzical, before turning away and back to the matter at hand -getting through this alive and relatively bloodless.

Ignoble Eidolon Egg lurks. It continues to lurk. It is good at the motionless and the lurking and the ominousness of lurking motionlessness. The lurking egg lurks in a lurch, with a twitch and a half for good measure.

V'zan actually evinces a touch of gallantry. "No need to run when I can carry you, P'tala." He smiles rather tenderly for a moment, then quickly scoots the emotions off his face.

Cera glances around. Shards! All those hatchlings running around. Cera waves to Zanoot, not that the girl notices, before trying to hurry towards the huddled group of candidates.

Aryion smiles, standing proud in the midst of the all the girls. He shrugs, "I don't know, I think that last blue is a fine looking fellow actually. Ah, the brown impressed. Congrats," is offered to the newly impressed. Back to Gabby, "I don't know, I can't really see who that blue is close too."

Holly takes a deep, dramatic breath. "Oh, the beauty of impression!" she points to the newest pair, then turns with shining eyes to Neil. "So stirring, no?" She tosses her hair back and then stands a bit straighter on the sands, eyes traveling up to the crowd in the galleries. It's her fifteen minutes... or maybe longer here... and she's going to make the most of it.

"Oh! Zanoot, it is." Maeko grins at Gaby, shrugging. "If that's who you thought it was, anyway." Blues are eyed, and glance is given to Aryion, before commenting again to Gaby. "He looks positively enthralled." One step back, and she holds an elbow in one hand while curling a finger on her cheek with the other; her head tilted to the side as she observes. Aw, doesn't Ary look proud- he's sure popular with the ladies. *cough* Er. Of course he is. Surrounded by girls. A soft snicker from Maeko, and she eyes the as-of-yet unhatched eggs once more.

With almost waltz-like movements, Storm-Swept Tristan Blue Dragonet descends upon one honey-tressed candidate in ever-narrowing circles. Finally pausing just in front of her, he stretches forth narrow wingsails to thunderously beat the air before stepping forward to protectively embrace his liege and lifemate, Cera.

Water's Illusion Egg wiggles around in the sandy pool, splashing small waves of sand up over the edges of the small well. Not yet, nope. Not ready for the world. Happy to stay right here for a bit and rock back and forth. Ignore those cracks.

Thanial whews and breaths another brief sigh of relief, "Oh good, the brown's gone to... Z'oot?" Nial peers at the young, nubile girl of an age between 16-20... she was always a tricky one. She liked spankings.. not that Nial knows that personally. He's just heard tales. "You guys watch for the other blu-" Blink. "Cera! Cera!"

Fynelox gapes as Cera's path is interrupted by a blue form. "Aieee, she's not going to make it here." He breaks into a smile though. "Congrats Cera!" he cries out, not caring if he's too loud or not this time.

P'tala beams, then heaves herself onto her own feet. "So nice to have a big, buff man at my disposal," she murmurs, then turns her attention back to the sands. "/Her/? That girl, oh... Zanoot?" Another blink at the two near-simultaneous impressions, and the girl raises a brow. "And Cera! Congratulations Cera!" she calls our, smiling. Hah. No going back to Weaver now, girl.

Menacion eyes the proceedings with a certain detached amusement, shaking first one foot, then the other to cool them. Shardit, hatch, eggs, hatch. Or he'll sweat to death out here. Makes him almost /want/ a dragon, just to get off the sands. Almost. "Congratulations, Cera!!" He calls over, rocking back and forth from heel to toe.

Z'oot glances into the eyes of the brown and smiles.

Gabriela bites her lip as she looks with wide eyes toward the sand-sweeping blue. "He looks like he's having fun," she murmurs with a giggle. "Oh! Zanoot got the brown!" She looks up toward Aryion curiously before ohhing and replying, "I meant the brown, but yeah..." Eyes turn back to the dragonets as the trader grins and nods at Maeko's words. She reaches up to wave her hand in front of Ary's face, snickering. She gasps toward the blue, eyes wide. "Cera!" her light voice squeals. "It got Cera!"

And just as the Illusion egg is comfortable to sit back and watch, so is Razel. Though, she does move around a bit, in order to save her poor feet from direct and steady contact with the hot sands. As Cera and Zanoot impress, she hugs herself tighter and smiles. A few more gone... Oh to have snack foods whilst watching such entertainment. She bets the heat here could fry an egg up nicely....

Z'oot glances into the eyes of the brown and smiles. Come Galahath, we shall find food and shelter.

C'ra blinks several times and stares at the dragonet before her. Yes, just stares. Then, finally, she nods. "Drustanth..." she murmurs softly. Oh, shards! Falling to her knees, Cera blinks again, reaching out to press a hand against the blue dragonet, and she even smiles.

Taire frowns as apparently she didn't wave to Cera quick enough, seeing as a blue just claimed her. She stands, mystified at the sight with mouth agape. "Sweet Faranth, ain't nobody is safe." Managing to close her yap with a *pop*, she glance to Fyne, giving his hand a couple of squeezing tugs for fortification.

V'len turns with surprised but happy eyes to P'tala. "A big, buff man?" Oh... V'zan. Sigh. Another candidate lost to weyrling-ism. Cera-- now C'ra --is cheered and congratulated as Luchesi ambles for a better position. And Zanoot, too. The candies are gettin' picked off.

Aryion cheers as Cera impresses the blue, before turning to look at Gabby and stick his tongue out at her. "Yes, I see that Gabby, Cera got the blue and Zanoot got the brown. Congrats Cera!" Cheering over he glances around, trying to locate the other blue on the sands.

Neil actually stares. "Woh." He looks to Cera-- C'ra-- and murmurs, "Look, another'o the Weavers..."

Subtle, smooth fire suddenly transforms: Burning Coals' Challenge Egg shivers gently, then jerks into powerful spasms, falling still after an instant of shaking, but that movement calls in a storm.

V'zan flexes unconsciously at the comment, then blushes brightly when he realizes what he's doing.

L'lia escapes the heat of the sands.

The surface of Burning Coals' Challenge Egg seems to blacken and roil: Stygian depths devour the scarlet coals, eating away at the heat and serene glow and camouflaging spiderweb cracks running races along the shell's nadir. A ferocious shove reveals an urgent claw, withdrawing and again attacking the inside of its fragile domicile. The charred crimson yields to another purity; life is revealed from the depths of the fire.
Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet
A masquerade of color waltzes haphazardly through a deciduous forest, filtered sunlight drenching warm viridescence amongst camouflage streaks of loam and olive hide. Light-footed pixie reels scatter bits of lime and lemon down and along her spine and endlessly flicking tail, whilst invasively catching a gleeful hold on the base of solemn ivy wingspars. Rampantly, the playful sylvan and citrine shades vie for attention on her body, but it is the wingsails, cloaked in a regal pine, that dominates her appearance in the end.

Nonam gives a thumbs up to Z'oot, and then calls out to C'ra. "Congratulations Cera! And...and..Drustanth!" Then he leans in to Fyne, Taire, and 'Nial. "Don't worry, there are still plenty of dragons out there for you guys. Hey, there might be some bronzes." Oh, like that's what they want, right?

Fated Igraine Blue Dragonet breathes deeply, drawing in his courage as he makes his way for the candidates. One of them seems more.. well, dramatic then the others. Maybe, just maybe that's the right one. The right way. So off he goes, seeking. Still a bit unsteady on his feet, but more than willing to shuffle through the sand.

Maeko flaps a hand in a weak attempt at fanning herself, barely raising the wisps of hair upon her forehead. The 'halo' of mussed frizz has returned to border her cheeks, and she grins happily. "Oh, Cera too! Wonderful. What's the name? Drus.. something? Er. Couldn't hear." Oh, she'll get it eventually. Don't worry. Glance to Razel, and she blows a raspberry as an imitation sigh. "Still hungry?" Attention is drawn as one of the fiery eggs hatches green, and then /she's/ the enthralled one. "Hey! Green. I like green." Yay.

S'lan steps back out ito the sands where the pairings all now seem to be coming at a quicker pace and escorts the new riders and dragons over to where the others are so they can eat and begin their new life and training.

C'ra shakes her head at Drustanth, then blinks as someone else approaches. "Wha? Huh?" Oh! Over there! Yeah! Smiling at the little blue, Cera stands, and ushers the little thing forth. "Come on... they've got to have food."

Gabriela has developed a habit of giving Maeko, Razel and Aryion a running commentary. She can't help it; it's either that or bite her fingernails, and she hardly has any nails left. She looks toward the blue and bites her lip. "He's moving..." Hearing another crack, she quickly looks toward the other. "Oh, there's a lovely green," she whispers. She shakes her head at Maeko, wrinkling her forehead. "Can't remember... Something with a D, I think."

Holly is pointing, first to the right, then the left. "She impressed! And ... she impressed, too!" The girl is just a wizard of the obvious. "I'm going to write this all down when I get back home. I'm going to start on a song right away! Oh, what rhymes with dragon? Wagon? Sag on? Hmmm..."

Fynelox looks upwards at Nonam and makes a shaky grin. "I think you're missing the point here." he tells the man. "We're hoping to go unnoticed." Well that was the plan at least. He squeezes the hand in his again, gulping as another green joins the ones still roaming about on the sands.

They seem to be going right and left now. Anki looks at the rapidly thinning group and, smiling, shakes her head. "Shards, never thought Cera would Impress after the way she talked about dragonriders. Now she /is/ one."

That's the plan by which Neil goes for. And he nudges Holly as she points. "Shush. You'll call attention to us!"

Hanz has disconnected.

Aryion beams, "Green is another beauty. All of these dragonets have been lovely actually. I missed the name too, ah well, we shall hear it later I am sure." He grins at the girls around them offering a encouraging wink to each. Now where is that other blue going too, Ary peers around trying to find him.

S'lan ushers C'ra and Z'oot over to where the others are feeding their lifemates and repeats the familiar instruction on how to feed the hungry Dragonet without allowing it to eat to fast or bite its tongue.

Menacion peers around. The ranks of the female candidates look to be well-nigh decimated. They're probably going to start taking the guys now...time to drift over towards that other, larger group. Thanial and company. Safety in numbers. Not that he's worried about Impressing. No sirree. Logic is on his side. But logic seems a thin defense against those hatchlings. Best to have people to throw. Like Fyne. Small boy. Light.. (snack for hatchlings).

Pinnacled Spires Egg rumbles from its foundations, shaking the dark earth around it. Cracks begin at the highest towers, snapping from the battlements down to the front gate. In the end, all that is revealed is the one who was only a visitor in this house.
Selfless Gawain Brown Dragonet
Late autumn drowns this dragonet in darkened bark hues, which from the road and trail cover him in the dirt of travel. And it's travel that he's built for, from the strength of muscle beneath each armored wing that lends to fine endurance, to the certain tilt of his nose that tells which direction to turn. Somewhat stocky, with a shortened soil-coloured tail, he is broad and brave and brown; an honestly open sight. Yet into his firm claws and along the edge of his wide neck, some rust has crept in spreading patterns.

Ignoble Eidolon Egg lays still. Very very still. Time? No, but soon. The heat of the moment ripples like a pulse through the crimson bolts across textured shell. Not...yet...

Thanial eyes the green, Faranth, they just keep popping up. Nodding with Fynelox, Nonam is given a withering look. "Hey mister brilliant herder man, why don't you try to attract that green to you." Snigger. "I'd love to see you on green, Nonam." Licking his lips, they're dry from the heat, he adds, "Then you can get close and personal to M'lan. Or the blue, go for the blue. Then you can know T'var in a whole new light." Clutching Taire's fingers, he blinks. Another brown. Aiee. They're being inundated. Silly Nial, what else did he expect at a Hatching?

Fortune's Beckoning Egg is quiet, garnering strength. The time is coming closer. Although still, the life inside seems to throb almost visibly.

Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet lifts her head, and that first emergence is like sunlight over a crimson horizon, the snug home leaving her shuddering in unfamiliarity. Putting a bold face on, she stumbles forward a few steps before creeling, loud and strong. Alone in a crowd never had a more potent meaning, than the despair lilt in the green's cry, then silence.

Nonam pokes Thanial in the back. "Hey, I'm a healer, OK?" Herder. Sheesh. "And I told you both. I'm too old to Impress. So you need to go and give it a chance. I mean...I hear it's supposed to be pretty wonderful. And if you get hurt, you've got me here to patch you up, and give you moral support

Thanial waves his hand, "Healer, herder... same thing." So says the un-crafted boy.

Aryion gazes around amazed. "There is another brown that has hatched, look there. Where did that blue one go?" He asks the girls, "anyone see where he is?" Hair is starting to get fairly wet from sweating, Ary notices as he runs his fingers through the white and auburn mass, trying to keep it back over his shoulders and out of the way. "Oh that green is so, sad looking."

Gabriela peers toward Holly, raising an eyebrow and mumbling, "Oookay..." She nods quickly at Aryion's words, grinning before shaking her head quickly. "So many... Oh, he is quite handsome, that brown..." She smiles happily, despite the sweat rolling down her arms, face, and neck. She raises an eyebrow toward the green. "Oh, poor thing..."

"Brown, too!" Maeko's gleeful, and she hops back and forth, foot to foot. "That green's bee-yooo-tiful. Such bright marks!" Such sharp teeth you have, grandma. Attention wavers for a moment, and she nudges Aryion again. "There's a brown," she states again. "You like brown? Or d'you prefer that blue?" Eyes peer, that blue's still around, isn't he? Somewhere. The cry catches her ears, and her exuberance falls at the sound; standing planted in the sand, her feet feel the heat all the more strongly. "She's sad!" Eyes turn to Gaby; why? Can you tell her why? Maybe Ary will know. Why?

Menacion sidles up next to Thanial. "Nonam on green? I concur. Let's push him in front of us." He suggests. Another barrier between Menace and a dragon is always appreciated. Use the larger morsels first in hope of sating the dragon's appetite. "Physician, heal thyself. You're going into the front line."

Taire gives a reassuring squeeze to Nial now, sniggering faintly at his words but trying to bite her lip to keep them back, 'cause it really wouldn't do to have Nial know that she actually thought that something he said was amusing. She quirks a glance over her shoulder to Nonam, "If you're too old, then why are you fardling well out here, eh?" She rolls her eyes before eyeing the newest brown.

Ganorene has long since moved away from the cowards who refuse to bring attention to themselves, stepping forwards as the candidate ranks thin. "Oh, lookit the green! And the brown! Yay!" She raises an arm into the air spunkily, no energy lost in the course of the hatching--none at all. "Green and brown, go go go!" Someone shut her up? Please?

The shapes within the shadows of Fire's Oracle Egg seem to be gaining solidity and definition as the shell's integrity is furthered threatened by the multitude of cracks and crevasses marring the surface.

Holly bounces again, pulling on Neil. "Look! He's coming close!" Finger points, and she's breathing hard now, wide eyed. Yup, this is drama alright! Her harper freinds will be proud.

Fated Igraine Dragonet hesitates in her search, whirling orbs sweeping the expansive sands and the cluster of candidates upon them. Reaching some inner decision, she slowly begins to walk toward one gathering of white-robe figures. The red thread of fate tugs her along until, at last, she comes to a stop in front of Holly, offering the girl a soft, quiet rumble of pleasure as Impression is shared.

Razel lifts her left foot and peers at it; almost starting to forget about what's going on around them. They continue to stick together like this, and they'll be fiiiiine. Really. Meanwhile, red and angry blisters are forming near the edges of the too-large sandals. The teen tsk's, whines and then puts the foot back down. She'd try lifting the right one now, but honestly, it'd probably cause her to fall. Wouldn't want that, now, would we?

Fynelox purses his lips as he looks back behind him. "If you're so interested, then I concur, you should be standing in front of us, not in back." He's all for edging away and circling around till the healer is standing in the forefront instead. He also gives a nod to Menacion, figuring that the guard will be handy to have around too. They're making a nice huddle it seems, probably to confuse the heck of out of any hatchling going near them. Probably have to peel through them to find someone to Impress!

Gabriela shrugs at Aryion, chuckling. "Maybe he's done what most of us want to do and made a run for the nearest tavern." Yeah, so a dragon walks into a bar... "She is," the trader replies with a grin and nod toward Maeko. "And I dunno if she's sad... Maybe she's just.... vocal? And she's coming toward the candidates."

Nonam starts backing up. "No I'm not. I told you, I'm too old to Impress. You guys go first." His hands come up as he spins around to try and edge back into the back again. "I'm only out here because I think Pwylth can't tell ages very well. Yeah."

Finally free of that dreadfully dull fortress, it is time for Selfless Gawain Brown Dragonet to seek a noble quest or two to occupy his time and give him a chance to show his stuff. Look, ladies, a true hero at your service! Who needs to be rescued first?

Ho'ly drops to her knees in front of the blue, tears springing to her eyes. It's not drama this time, it's real! "Oh, Grailth! You're the one I've been searching for my entire life!" All is now forgotten but the creature in front of her.

Woh. Neil blinks as Holly impresses, and stares. Stares again, and peers towards them. "Congrats, Ho'ly!" He takes a few steps away from her, looking around slowly. That's more dangerous over there than he thought.

Thanial nods to Menacion, he's in full agreement. He's all for tossing Nonam right at the green, even. Just picking him up and chucking him towards her. "I bet you'd be surprised Nonam. Taire's right, after all Cera was older than you and she Impressed her blue." So nyah. Of course once Nonam's Impressed, Nial's all for throwing Menace to the wolves- err, dragonets. Beware thy friends.

Faint tremors ripple across the surface of Fortune's Beckoning Egg once more, subtle prelude to the violent eruption that suddenly shatters shell's entirety. Blossoms' blizzard spreads across the sands as myriad shards are cast forth, heralding the warrior's dramatic emergence from within his protective veil.
Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet
Solid lapis dominates his courtly features, their stark angles slightly softened by gilded highlights atop pointed muzzle and regal crest. Broad chest and robust torso, armored in shimmering blue steel, harbor a surprising strength echoed by well-muscled forelimbs tipped with talons' mercurial gleam. Deceptively expansive cerulean wingsails, accented on the leading edge by daring flashes of chromium, oft shield vulnerable nickel-plated flanks as lashing, lancing tail ceaselessly guards the rear.

Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet, her lonesome wail cast aside, throws wings back, regal bearing shimmering through sparkling pixie dust and echoed in her olivine 'sails. Decisiveness prompts efficient movement, her smooth, though childish steps carrying her towards a crowd of men, tail twitching with royal irritation, eyes whirling her hunger. Mouth opens, and the monarchial green draws back.. and roars.

Aryion shrugs, "I wonder why that green looks so sad, she is about to impress to her lifemate. Strange." He points over to Holly, "Look, the green impressed to Holly, Congrats! Thats a nice name there." He casually comments to the girls. "Oh, that green looks like she knows who she wants.. and look at that other blue!"

Menacion mutters. "I want a shovel. And some burlap sacks." He eyes the sand. "We could construct a nice little fort here." No pun intended. "Defend the barricades against the dragons. And the shovel would be handy for bapping them." He slips behind Nonam, blocking route of retreat. "Oh no you don't. If you're too old, you have nothing to lose by being in front." Hey. Thanial is next on the list. Menace outmasses all of them.

S'lan makes sure the weyrlings around him are all comfortable in what they are doing and goes to retrieve Ho'ly and Grailth.

Ignoble Eidolon Egg ripples violently from base to crown as its neighbor explodes into life. To all things, there is a season. To all dreams, a beginning.

"Oh, mememe!" Ganorene volunteers gamely, responding to the brown's unspoken request with an enthused and improvised cheer. "Oh," she says, tugging at the candidate next to her, "You think that handsome brown's coming this way? Maybe? C'mere, good-lookin'!" she calls. The other candidate in question moves away, with great haste. Yikes.

Taire casts another glance back to Nonam, her grin going lopsided and causing one dimple to deepen far more than the other. "Aye... you should line up before us, Nonam. If'n you're so old, they you ain't got that many more chances out here. So better take 'em while you can." She finally notices that Menace seems to have joined their jolly group, grin widening.

Dragonets left, dragonets right. Maeko's head is spinning. More are appearing at each step, and she whimpers again, stepping backwards as an involuntary motion. "Shards. How does one keep /up/ with everything? They're all over the place!" Take things as you go, perhaps? None have come near /her/ little group, thankfully. Or she'd have to scatter. Heeelp. "Gah."

Anki wipes sweat from her forehead and stares about her. "Who's still unpounced?" she asks of anyone close enough to listen to her. "Ugh. Can't stand this heat much longer. I swear, everything on my is going limp."

Nonam yipes as the roar sounds from a direction in which he is not facing. "No, no, I'm too old to have a chance. Too old." Um...maybe he picked the wrong people to stand near?

"Shards, I hope not!" Neil says this to Ganorene, going so far as to releasing her hand. Holly was bad enough, but /another/?

Gabriela grins toward the brown. "He looks awfully proud and brave," she murmurs with a giggle before calling a fake congratulations to Ho'ly. Her eyes turn toward the hatching blue. "Look at him! Isn't he handsome?" Swoon and sigh. "Oh, and she doesn't look sad now... She looks angry," Gabriela whispers, looking with wide eyes toward the green. She shakes her head at Maeko's words, eyes having turned back to the blue. "As if the heat doesn't make us dizzy enough..."

Selfless Gawain Brown Dragonet visibly perks up. What ho, a fair maiden soliciting his aid? A chance to prove his true valor and skill? Excited footsteps lead the dark-hued dragonet onward in search of high adventure and a chance to do a good deed or three.

Fynelox jumps a bit as the green roars. "Oy, that's not a sound I thought a baby dragon would make." he admits with a gulp, backing up more. He's definitely glad there are larger targets to stand with now. His positioning is starting to pull at Taire's hand more and more. But the other alternative is to let go and he's not so sure about that. She'd probably kick him if he did.

Fractured Symmetries Egg suddenly begins to move again. More reflections coruscate off the silvered shell, even as that within struggles from within.

Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet tries, valiantly, to attract attention to herself, pulling ever closer to Nonam, then excusing him with a draconic flip of head. Weyrling feet smack the ground as she walks, dignity running through her veins, through her body. The other boys are isolated, judged with a critical eye, a whine in the background inaudible with all the noise.

The once cook could really go for whipping up some cool snack at this moment. Something frothy, that would feel oh so lovely on her poor feet. However, Razel has only sand and.. ah.. dragonets to play with. What can you make out of that, other than an impression - which is a delicacy she's unsure that she can handle.

"Indeed. If the heat isn't enough, the.. chaos is." Maeko's ready to swoon, but in the sense that she'd fall to the sands in a dead faint. Slight stagger, and she steadies her stance; feet planted firmly. "Most of them seem to know where they're going, though." Is the next soft comment, and her head tilts to the side as she flickers attention between several. Those that she can see well, anyway.

Aryion nods, "Yes, he does have that air about him doesn't he? There are so many, I don't know which one to look at." Eyes dart around the sands, stopping on dragonets, rocking eggs, and fellow candidates. So much to see, but where to look. Grins are cast toward the girls around him, "none of them have come toward us have they? Strange."

Gabriela looks between the brown and blue, not sure which to cast her eyes upon. She grins at the brown, and then she turns with a giggle toward the confident blue. "You know... I have yet to see a funny-looking dragon" comes the trader's random comment. "And I hope that green Impresses soon, 'cause she sounds like she's gonna be sick." She nods slowly at Maeko. "If only they'd do it faster..." She grins toward Aryion, chuckling. "I don't think so. Do we smell funny?" The sailor-bred girl manages to refrain from lifting her arm and sniffing.

Menacion glances around and takes a quick head count. "Well. Most of the guys." He'd rattle off names, but that would take too long. "Hrmm...nice voice on that thing." Excuse Menace while he puts more things between him and the dragon. Backwards steps...

Thanial gulps as well and follows Fyne in his motion, stepping back once more, pulling slightly where he's connected to Taire. He is of mind to push Nonam's shoulder slightly, hoping to throw the Healer off-balance and into the roaring green's path... but he's too late. The green passed Nonam by. That leaves Menace to be tossed towards the green.. or at least to hide behind. "Take Menace, take Menace," he offers the little green. "Look how big and brawny he is." Taire's going to be sacrificed next if necessary.

Ganorene cries out as the brown actually looked at her. "He looked at me!" she notes to Neil, though the rather vacuous girl is already jogging away, pulling towards the brown with a giggle. "Rarr. Scary dragonet. You're not so scary, are you?" She tosses her head in an answer to her own question, and the constant social bubble she has drives more people away, mumbling, "Shards she's talking to him..."

Selfless Gawain Brown Dragonet steps forward to the girl Ganorene, brave and loyal, to accept the challenge. He bows his head in anticipation of the strike, unsure if she'll send him away or bring him eternal satisfaction. But the candidate cries out in sudden joy, stepping forward to embrace her new lifemate.

Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet is eyeing a knot of girls warily. Girls. Hmm. And that green over there. Maybe best to stay on /this/ side of the sands? He slips a bit closer to where there might be ones that understand him. Brave. Bold. That he can handle. His neck stretches out to a small boy from Tillek who squeals a bit and then backs away. Nope. Won't do. There's got to be someone here who understands a bit of adventure? A bit of the wanderlust?

Eeek! Neil staggers back, "You too!" He looks around frantically, the young gulping audibly. He turns and hides behind one of the small knots, the ones that the Bitran lad was in earlier.

Taire is pulled back a tad, and she isn't mad at all that such a thing is happening. In fact, she was beginning to wonder why someone didn't consider this option before. With one hand clutching at Nial and the other attached to Fyne, she moves back as well. She blinks at Menace's words. Oh yes, the ranks are certainly thinning.

Maeko is rather afraid to sniff underneath her arm, knowing full well where the trio of them have /been/ for the past time. Shimmering heat plus anxiety equals one sweaty candidate. Though it does produce a laugh. "Hey! That brown's impressed, now. That grant your wish, Gaby? They're going a little quicker." Well, one is, anyway. It's a start, nu?

Push. Menace gives Nonam a not-so-gentle nudge, incidentally heading him towards the approaching green. Take him, take him! Putting that brawniness to good use.

Ignoble Eidolon Egg ripples again. To every dream, there comes an ending.
Secretive lines subtly grow along the twisting turns of the Ignoble Eidolon Egg. Following textures and patterns of color, the cracks quietly, swiftly shoot from base to hollow crown, only to ripple back down from the height as quickly as they arrived. With a final ripple from the inside outward, the ovoid shatters into ruins, the shadows destroyed. Atop the remains of the once strong egg stands a proud young bronze, his head lifting with regal assurance. So begins the quest for his birthright.
Perfidious Mordred Bronze Dragonet
Unfinished copper sparks across the dark bronze hide of this young warrior, like the bloodstains atop ancient shields. Powerful legs propel a solid body, mired in fire-licked shadows, with a confidence that belies obvious youth. Each lash of his tail is a strike of a coiled whip, yet his lovely muzzle shines clean and clear, a bronze pure enough to distract from chromatic imperfections elsewhere.

Gr'ene crowds out loud and long, "Knyghth! Of course! You're wonderful and perfect and beautiful," she gushes, crooning then name over and over, "Gr'ene... Knyghth!" And for once in the entire evening, she is struck silent.

Nonam sighs and decides to stop pushing his way through, ever so much now that the green has apparently decided that he will not do. Instead, he starts to sneak a little ways away, sidling to the side. But then Menance pushes him, and he goes sprawling backwards onto his rear, caught by suprise. No, he doesn't hit anything but sand, but....that's hot sand. "Ow, ow, ow, hot, hot, hot." He's on his feet again, "Menace, that was hot!" Yep, time to find someone else to go stand with.

Fynelox considered putting the healer up to the approaching green, but then she goes and passes him by already and another idea pops into the boy's head. A head toss to Thanial, his eyes peer towards the guardsman who joined them belatedly. Ah, Menacion would be fitting to be sacrificed first! So the ever so innocent little herderboy shows his darker side by using his free hand to try and push the other Candidate right after the healer and towards the green's path he hopes.

Gabriela turns toward Ganorene with a smile and call of congratulations before looking back toward the blue. "He definitely looks like he's on a mission," the sea trader comments with a grin as she wipes sweat from her forehead. She turns toward Maeko with a chuckle. "Assuredly," she replies. "But I guess with this... these dragonets don't want to jump too hastily toward a lifemate, right?" She's trying to convince herself to accept the pace.

Water's Illusion Egg's silver samite surface grows more disturbed as larger cracks rippled across its circumference, destroying the illusion of watery depths. But cracks are simply cracks and nothing yet rises from within to emerge. There is still more time.

Aryion sniffs around himself. "I don't think we smell bad. I just think that the right ones have hatched yet for us. Oh, a bronze!" Blue eyes move toward the dark bronze hide of the newest dragonet, before darting around the sands, trying to keep up with all the staggering little dragons. A congraduations is called out to the newly impressed before eyes start darting around once again.

Thanial nods at Fyne, both having the same idea. His free hand snakes out as well to attempt come into contact with the former guard and give him the final push towards the green. Better Menace than anyone of their trio. Cough. "Menace." Cough. Subtle, isn't he?

Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet doesn't mind odor, or candidates who sweat. After all, there's always a little sweat shed in the best of quests. Perhaps if a girl sweats, she might not be /so/ bad. Better than that Tillek wimp, anyway. Head high again, he sets out across the sands. He'll find what he's looking for! It's what he's here for! It's his purpose! His driving force!

Priestess of Avalon Egg gives a violent shudder causing it to tip out of it's safe nest of sand. The time fast approaches, and as the power grows stronger, the grey fog ripples and darkens.

"Oops. I'm sorry." Menace apologizes. With a certain amount of insincerity. "I didn't mean to do that. It was an accident." Would kicking Nonam keep him down? Probably a little too unsubtle. Menace stumbles sidewards a grand total of one step. "What are you doing, Fyne?" Sheesh. The guardsman probably outmasses the boy by at least twice as much. Maybe three or four times. Menace dodges Nial's pushing hand. "Hey. Watch it. Or I'll push /you/ people at the dragon."

Perfidious Mordred Bronze Dragonet wastes little time at all, but such an entrance deserves to be fully appreciated. Still, that icky blue clutchsib is about to snatch the prize. With a brash brassy bellow, the bronzeling promptly gives chase to the wimpy little blue. A challenge! A fight! A...oh, wait...what's all this, then? The lovely head turns towards the array of white-robed stinky things. Yes? Well?

Maeko needs just as much convincing, don't worry. "There you go, Ary! No brown for you? Bronze, instead. Bronze for sure." That's settled. Aryion is now a bronzerider. Maeko's pretty definite on that fact. But, hey? What's that? There's a blue in their vicinity. Maeko nudges Gabriela with wide eyes. "Hey! Lookat that! They're not /all/ avoiding us. Maybe we don't smell /too/ bad."

Taire can't exactly push anyone, seeing as her hands are help by others. But she could offer a kick? Nope, that won't work. Again, she has been having back luck with her aiming as of late. Her eyes round at Menace's threatening words and immediately she is releasing both of the boys. "Hey, they did it!" And then she takes a /long/ step back.

Neil meeps! He looks at the Bronze as it rushes, and takes a few steps to the side. Just in case it heads his way.

Nonam continues to sidle away from the other candidates, going back to plan A, which was standing by himself, and watching the dragons by himself. This way, no one will be pushing him at anything. It's a perfect plan. Of course, the possibility that it will make him more obvious to the dragonets hasn't crossed his mind.

Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet stalks through the crowd, the healer sidestepped with an arrogant growl. Icily indignant, she raises her wings up, composing herself with her true, sovereign bearing. Waiting not for the other candidate's shove, she hurtles forwards -- and there is no avoiding her.

Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet twitches her tail, eyes latching on some color, some thought, some one. Barreling towards a burly, goateed lad, she skids to a stop just out of his reach, curious, but cautious, claws digging into the hot sand. Wings fan out regally, and eyes climb higher and higher, finally resting assured on the candidate's face, taking Menacion confidently as her own.

Razel whimpers both in happiness and in pain. Her steps take her further from the little group of candidates, and towards a nest of a few unhatched eggs. She recognizes one of them from her earlier explorations, and allows herself to fall deep into the scrying pool represented by the Water's Illusion Egg. Ooh, better not stare too long - feet will certainly be forgotten then, and burnt to a crisp. Still, maybe that egg offers some release from the pain? Any cool liquid will do at the moment.

Gabriela grins and nods at Aryion's words as she looks toward the bronze. "Yet another handsome beast," she murmurs with a nod before her eyes drift back to the blue. Something catches the corner of her eye. "Please don't tell me one of those guys is getting the green... please... no." She blinks at Maeko's words and nods. "Maybe he actually likes smelly people?" She gulps and wipes more of that sharding sweat from her forehead as she eyes the beast. "Menace?!" Oh, Faranth. "Oh, Faranth. Save us now... Um, congrats, Menace?"

Aryion eyes the blue dragonet that appears to be heading toward their little group. "I think that one might be heading toward us. Oh look at the way that bronze is searching over everyone. I wonder who he is going to?" Blink. "Go Menace! That was a surprise there."

Along gilded lines a rift forms, piercing the veil that obscures vision of the life within Priestess of Avalon Egg. While the mists have been cracked, visibility is still dim, revealing only faint glimpses of movement. Slowly the fractures spread across ovoid surface, the ashen outer layer crumbling away to cast further illumination on the mysterious inhabitant. Then, as if poured from a vase, Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet fully emerges faerie quick into this world.
Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet
Shadows of velveteen verdancy dance in erratic patterns upon the length of her petite but proportional body, richly-colored hide undertoned by the dew-speckled hues of a moonlit glen. Exquisitely sinuous traceries of dark ivy twine their way from neckridge to talon, branching off to wind across the slender span of unusually lengthy wings. Angular features play upon her sleekly sylvan countenance, invoking notice of muzzle's pert point and inviting attention to tail's teasing tendril.

Fynelox beams from ear to ear as the plan appeared to have succeeded spectacularly. "Hey! It worked!" the boy pipes up, grinning over at Thanial and raising his free hand for a high-five. They should try this more often. Maybe they can shove Nonam again, or if that doesn't work, they're both still holding onto Taire.

Those iridescent fractures within the Fractured Symmetries' surface begin to quake. The flaw surges, as if fighting the lines of perfect order within the egg's surface. And yet, still, the order holds against the onslaught, at least for now.

Thanial blinks as his hand is released. "Coward," is hissed towards Taire. But then again, it's too late and Nial's safe. "Menace!!!" Oh wait, ye gods, Menace on green. Fort will never be the same. Returning Fyne's hi-five he beams, "We should try it again. Seems to work out well."

A cackle is Maeko's response to Menace's impression, as if the very thought amuses her- okay, it does. Who wouldn't it amuse? The idea of Menacion, proddy, has an odd ring to it- something not fully understood until seen, most likely. But careful eye remains on both dragonets that seem to hold an interest in stinky people. "Ary." She nudges him again, nodding towards aforementioned creatures. What more will she say? Twinkling eyes reveal her smug comment-to-be. The priestess egg shatters, and the green emerging catches her eye immediately. "And another green, Gaby! So many at once. My head's still spinning."

P'tala ignores the men completely, eyes on the shoving kids towards the back. "Isn't that Nonam? Are they really suppose to be--..." Mid-sentence stops her short, and the girl can't help but cheer. "Menacion! Excellent impression!" She wipes a false tear away, grinning to knock the Weyr down. Her little Guardlet. All grown up and impressing green.

N'cion blinks. Blinkity blink. Hey. This wasn't supposed to... "Whaa? Amnerith?" In spite of his strenuous earlier protestations, a delighted grin spreads across Menace's face, rather boyish in character and unlike his normal grins. Suddenly heedless to the burning sands and the shouted congratulations, he stumbles off with his new green. (Thus are new Menaces born).

Tearing her gaze away, Razel then shakes her head; which sends her blond locks cascading down her back. Ahem... Now's not the time to daydream. Instead, the teen runs hands down the front of her robe, and tucks her hair behind her ears. Feet may be paining, however... she's endured worse burns than this in the kitchen. Therefore, with a deep breath, she returns to her endless walking... Letting her footsteps take her where they may..

Taire aims a punch at Nial's shoulder, hoping that she actually connects but with all the chaos going on out here, she could just as easily miss. Menace and his new /green/ lifemate are eyed. "Sweet Faranth." She never imagined that would ever happen. "I didn't see you smooching up to the green now, did I?" she retorts to Nial, dropping fisted hands to her hips and even deigns to stick her tongue out at him. With a contemptuous sniff, she turns aside to startle as yet another egg hatches, this one bringing forth a green.

Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet swings his head around, peering carefully at the little group he's singled out. Yes, there's hope here. A sniff, a bit of a royal snort, and he lifts his head regally. Who to knight for his adventures? Tail flicks impatiently as he surveys the ranks. The one is here... he can feel it. His eyes close briefly, perhaps imagining the adventures... the missions ahead.

Gabriela looks toward the green with a raised eyebrow, grinning and nodding toward Maeko. "Yes, she's beautiful!" she replies with a giggle. "I know... they should give us water occasionally or something." She tries to push that frightening nightmare out of her head--Menace on green--not wanting to accept it as a reality, and she turns her eyes back to the blue. "Gah... looking at him makes me think of water..." Which also makes her thinking of running away, back to the ship. "He is handsome, though..."

The future of Fire's Oracle Egg is indeed drawing near. Inner heat and the unstoppable passage of time conspire together to reduce the vivid shell to brittle, papery consistency. Surely the seer's vision will soon emerge.

S'lan steps back out into the sands to guide N'cion and Amnerith over to where the others are.

Nonam stops when he feels he's far enough away from the other candidates, and then starts to laugh. "Ha! Serves you right! Congratulations, Menacion! And...Amnerith!"

Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet shakes off the last remnants of shell as she tries to right herself in the soft sand before looking up at Suyinth and Yevgeth, emitting a soft creel. Turning around, she cocks her head, examining the groups of people gathered before her. Somewhere out there is the one. Hesitantly, she takes a step forward before stumbling over her large wings and falling muzzle first into the sand.

Perfidious Mordred Bronze Dragonet bugles loudly for no real reason. Or maybe he has a reason and nobody else knows it. Yes, yes. That's it. He has...A Plan. But first, he needs a sidekick. A page, if you will. A squire, to do his bidding in the Grand Scheme. And, alas, some poor little stinky thing decides to skitter to one side. Momentarily delaying the royal usurpation, the little bronze pounces forward, quite happy to give chase to his first official victim. Stay still.

With head held proudly aloft, Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet finally espies the one candidate truly worthy of being selected as his partner and protector for life. Steady, stately strides carry him across the shifting sands in an unerring line towards that certain special someone. Upon reaching Gabriela, he gently rests his head upon one slender shoulder, acknowledging her as his equal. As his lifemate.

Meep! Meep! No, not something out of anachronistic television, but it might as well be. Neil takes a few steps away again, as he tries to hide. He just wants to go home to the hall!

Maeko's nudge in his side is noted, as Aryion watches very closely the bronze and blue that are eyeing the group closely. "That bronze is a true warrior," he mumbles to himself before looking around at Menace with the green again. Eyes dart around, trying to catch all the dragonets movements.

Thanial winces as the punch connects. "Ooow Taire," he whines, sure that he's going to have a bruise in the morning. "Stop being so mean or I'm going to throw you at the next one." Nial scowls at the little massager, and therefore he misses Gabriela's actual Impression, but the sound of cheering causes he to pivot and scan the Sands. "Gaby?!? Gabriela!" One more down.

Fynelox turns around and smirks as Thanial is punched. Ha, he isn't on the receiving end of Taire's ire this time at least, which is why he manages to look about in time to see Gabriela being selected by one of the blues that so worried him so. "Gabby! Congrats!" he calls out, glad to have a respite from dragonet watching. They're in the clear, aren't they?

Maeko eyes the blue with a furrowed eyebrow, puzzlement plain upon her face- glance to Gabriela, and she suddenly laughs as the two meet. "There! No mauling. Congratulations, Gaby!" Hands clap together, and eyes to the side notice the bronze once more, and she snickers at Aryion, though pauses in the mid. Waitasecond.. they're both.. er. Leaving her here. Alone. Or will be. Just as good as when she started. "Bwah!" Unintentional sound, and she skitters backwards, away once more. Sand flutters about her feet, and she skids to a stop once more to eye the remaining eggs and dragonets warily. Without the safety of numbers, she could /easily/ be mauled, you know.

S'lan guides Gabriela and her lifemate to join the others

G'aela gulps and stars at the creature, eyes blinking with worry before a soft smile crosses her face. She reaches and rubs his side, finally letting out the breath she's been holding for the entire Hatching. Then, with the loudest voice she's mustered all candidacy, she turns to her friends and fellow riders with a grin. "His name is Calevath!"

Taire winces as that green that caught her eye before goes sprawling. That just fortifies her own ideas. Yep, gangly uncoordinated creatures with out a care on who they slash or crush. She casts only a fleeting glance to Nial, smirking happily as she did manage to strike him, "Do it and die." She turns her head to the side causing a wealth of her braids to spill to her back, eyeing Gaby and the blue. "Aye... there goes another one."

Perfidious Mordred Bronze Dragonet hissssssssssssssssses irritably. No, no, no! That pesky brat of a blue just stole his thunder! He wanted that girl! Well, fine. He didn't want that girl anyway. Too weak. Yeah. That's it. He needs a big, strong thug of a partner. Someone short on brains and long on muscle. But first...a little fun. Heeeere, little one. Pounce goes the bronzeling, like a feline toying at a rodent.

Nonam starts moving to the side again, as there seems to be too much to see at once. Have to find a better place to see it all. As he does, he calls out. "Congratulations, G'aela, Calevath!"

Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet paws at her muzzle, trying to scrape off the clinging sand before looking back up. Continuing to stay where she has fallen though, her gaze returns to the sands. This is defiantly something interesting. Wings come forward to scoop more sand into a pile. She's found something that must be investigated further, at least for a brief moment until her need overrides her curiosity.

Eeek! Neil leaps away, or tries to, as the Bronze pounces near him. Thump. And poor Neil lands right on his face, in front of the bronze. Oops. That wasn't supposed to happen. Was it?

Anki shuffles on the sands, smirking. "Heh. I knew it." Green. Ha. Take that, Menace. "Congratulations, Gaby!" She shouts. "And Calevath!"

V'len sighs happily. Yes, Yevgeth's done himself proud. Eyes are on him, right? After the last impression, he manages to take his eyes off the sands for a moment to wave to those no doubt admiring from the stands. Yes, give them all a thrill. Just don't cheer /too/ loudly... it'll scare the dragonets.

Razel is rather glad she made her way apart from Gabby, and Aryion and Maeko now.. Especially if they hatchlings are headed that way. However, upon seeing the impression, she smiles again; her arms stealing around her form again to hug herself. Eyes dart to where the greenling fell, and the cook feels sorry for her. Shaking her head, she actually chuckles. It reminds her of her younger sister - she was never light on her feet either.. Ahem.

Aryion beams over at Gabby as the blue impresses, "Gabby! Oh, congrats! Whats his name?" He moves a little away from the newly impressed pair. "G'aela, Calevath!" A grin is cast toward Maeko, "I'm not going anywhere for the time being, still here." He eyes the bronze at play, laughing softly.

Perfidious Mordred Bronze Dragonet's hunt draws to a close when the path opens. A lovely little path between two candidates, one a little shorter than the other, leads the brash little warrior further into the ranks. No tricks to distract him, no romantic nonsense to squelch. He has his target. His victim. Together, they will rule. Annoying little Neil? No more! Now he is the rider named N'i!

Siani watches, still holding onto Hanz who's fallen as silent as she has, intent on watching the eggs hatch and Impress. There's little that she can think to say, for once in her life, other than to just beam with pride and pleasure. Even V'len gets a broad grin, "Yevgeth has been an excellent sire."

Ni! Or more properly, N'i looks up, and blinks at the Bronze. Blinks again, and squeaks-- nay, cracks, his voice cracking, "Shubberyth?" Yes, it's the Knight who says N'i...and his dragon, Shrubberyth. He blinks again, "Shrubberyth!"

Thanial considers, it might just be worth it to toss Taire towards an oncoming dragonet. Hrmmmm.... All the action seems to be on the other side of the Sands again, and so Nial takes a much needed breather. But wait, what's that, another green. Running to hide behind Taire, he plants both hands on her shoulders, as if to propel her forwards. Hey, everyone has to die sometime. "Fyne, help me," he calls to the other candidate.

Maeko sniffles theatrically, eyeing Aryion warily. "You're sure?" She's a polarity kinda girl, nu? One moment here, one moment gone. Mentally, of course. She lost tack of him, apparently, and the bronze went elsewhere. Pout. "/You/ were supposed to impress." Maeko's dictate, you know. Hmph. Skitter. Skitter. She scuttles back up, shaking her head in a quick motion, hair settling once more in an unrefined mass. "Bah."

It's time. That's the only way to describe it. From within the Fractured Symmetries Egg, something happens. That within struggles to emerge into the light of the world. Unwavering, it continues, even as sand swirls around the egg.

Darkening, the strands of molten quicksilver shudder as an inward tremor surges outwards from the depths of Fractured Symmetries Egg. That tremor finds its purchase in the egg's fracture, causing the glorious runes to darken as fiery crimson spreads over the ovoid's surface like a whirlwind of released passions. But -- /but/ -- the symmetry, the inherent order and strength within the shell seems to hold against this tumultuous surge, causing the shards to fall perfectly formed from either side, releasing its occupant to the world.
Principled Lancelot Bronze Dragonet
Rich russet cascades down muscled shoulders and haunches, throwing metallic glimmers as the warm hue slides into the deep bronze of his hide. Grace is betrayed in his gliding movements, hinting at the underlying physical strength and self-assuredness that promises to be formidable in its own right. Headknobs are slightly over-exaggerated and muzzle is proudly chiseled, their angular planes reflecting the intelligent beauty of his face. Precise ebony wingsails are tipped with a dangerous crimson, the coloration echoed in talons that warn of latent power masked within his refinement.

Taire is immediately digging in her heels, which only means that her sandals feet are getting rather entrenched in the hot sands. "Nial! Nial! What are you-" *growl* "Nial! So help me Faranth I'm gonna knock you over and leave you for those dragonets to pick over." Alas, she is gradually easing before the others.

Fynelox nods quickly and responds like before, stepping back to snag the other side of the girl between himself and Thanial. The boy is stronger than he looks, which'll come in handy just now as they prepare to launch the girl towards whatever dragonet is coming by. Maybe the green. The only distraction of his attention is the cracking of another egg, something else to hide from then. They're starting to run out of sacrifices.

Aryion backs up a bit, as the bronze goes by to impress to N'i. Cheers goes out for the little guy before Ary's eyes are drawn to the hatching bronze. "Faranth.." is all the smith can utter as he takes in the wonderful bronze that just emerged. "Maeko, look at him, he is wonderful!"

Not sacrifices. Partners. Guardians, and wards. Unlike some of his siblings, the Principled Lancelot Bronze does not stumble out of his shell. He steps out of it with an inherent grace that is striking to behold. His russet-bronze head swings slowly about, searching. He knows what, and who he wants. Now, all that remains is to find him.

V'zan cracks his knuckles, "Another bronze. Poor Noswaith is going to have even more competition during his flights now. Which means more lost flights." He sighs melodramatically before winking at P'tala. "What a pity."

Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet struggles to rise, her attention returning to the candidates. Now that her brief pondering of the sands is over, she realizes what she must do. She takes a step toward the practically all male group, this time being sure to raise her wings. Critically, she eyes each person in turn. Maybe there is someone there that might complete her. The glint of light off metal catches her attention and she stops.

M'lan chuckles softly at V'zan, his gaze lingering briefly on the new Weyrlings, before saying to V'zan, "We'll deal with it, I'm sure..."

Fire's Oracle Egg crumples in upon itself soundlessly, revealing a wizened brown dragonet carefully ensconced within. After a moment's serious contemplation, he seems to have weighed the various paths open to him and settled upon a decidedly advantageous future. The fates have revealed to his mystic inner vision that a certain scrawny Healer apprentice is the boy prophesied to be his lifemate. So it is written, so it shall be. Fortunately, the toe-headed lad seems more than willing.

Maeko's eyes alight as the other bronze hatches, and she giggles. "Oh, indeed! Indeed." Bounce, bounce. She's getting /bored/, dernit, and is sick of being left here. Green is eyed curiously, though she seems to be inspecting a group of boys; of which, she wouldn't be classified, of course. Stinky, but not male.

P'tala smirks at V'zan, rolling her eyes. "More lost flights? Look how many new greens there are? Shards, boys..." She's playing the Mature Weyrsecond, now. "And I think the only person who would pity you... well.. hm. That'd be me, yes?" No one else wants everyone else's hand-me-down bronzeriders.

Thanial stubbornly propels Taire forwards, dwindling eggs means dwindling likelihood that he'll be caught up in the mess afterwards. What can Taire do if he's not here? So intent is he on his task that he completely misses the hatching of the newest bronze, else he'd turn to shove Fyne towards the dragonets as well. Lucky Fyne.

V'len gasps a little as the next bronze hatches. "He's almost a rival to you, Yevgeth." That's saying something. But he says it quietly. It wouldn't do for for anyone to hear that. "Don't worry, though... he's just a weyrling. Now." He bites his lower lip, looking towards V'zan. "Not that Yevgeth would /ever/ be worried about competition!" That, he says in a loud voice.

Nonam stops then, thinking his vantage point is good. He's keeping as far apart from the other candidates as he can, since they seem to like to push people towards the dragons, behavior that Nonam simply cannot understand. So, leaning from one foot to the other, here he shall stay.

Taire howls as now Fyne has to add in to the treachery. "What do you two think you are doing?!" she cries, eyes opening as wide as marks with the glint of alarm flashing. A hand tries to reach around to clutch at someone, anyone! "Ow... Ouch... the sands, guys." Not to mention the dragonets either. "No really. You don't need to do this. I'm just fine. I'm just -will you just stop it now! Shaffit! Fardling shell-brained..." And it is basically goes downhill from there as she rattles off curse after curse. After taking a breath, her voice goes panicked, "Guys?!"

A muted rumble resounds within your mind, like waves crashing against distant rocks. The sound softens yet further as muted tendrils of thought reach out to you, caressing your mind with love, slowly drawing you closer. Like the rising of the tides, this foreign soul gradually fills your entire being, a wordless joining of spirits. After aeons of embracing silence, the faintest of whispers floats through your combined thoughts...
<< I am Sullaketh! >>
Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet draws close to one girl, the shadow swathed sylph catching eye's attention. Slow, tentative steps carry her in a semi-circle approach towards the object of her affections. Drawing close, she covers the remaining distance in one quick bolt, petite body flushing forward to stop barely in time before gently butting the girl in the midsection, eyes whirling. She has found her path. She has found her Taire.

Drustanth lifts his head and croons at V'len. C'ra blinks and shakes her head quickly, trying to stuff meat into the blue's mouth. "No, shush! V'len's full of hot air. Shush! Don't worry."

Anki keeps shifting from one foot to the other, head swiveling back and forth between the candidates and the dragons. "Taire! Congratulations!" The manhandling did her good after all. Anki makes a note to stay away from Fyne and Nial, though. If she's going to get a dragon, she'd rather not be thrown at it.

Aryion the girl's hand gets squeezed tightly as Ary takes in the proud bronze that just hatched. "He is proud, and strong, did you see how gracefully he emerged from his shell." He is so caught up in the bronze that at first he doesn't realize that Taire has impressed. "Taire! Oh, congratulations my friend! She is a beauty!"

Razel watches all from her side; silent, pale, and sorefooted. You can almost hear her silent lamentations, as she wishes these other eggs to just hurry up and hatch! Let her return to the kitchens, where she can bury herself under mounds of tubers, flour and sweetener, and not have to worry about decisions which will effect her life forever! Just let her return to the safety of youth - where dreams come true, but you do not have to face the consequences which follow them!

Fynelox makes a gleeful sound as the green circles them and stops before the girl imprisoned between him and Thanial. He quickly lets her go and backs up, chortling. "Congratulations Taire! Looks like she got you!" The smug satisfaction covers up the slight wistfulness as she will now have much more interesting things to do than tormenting him.

Taire stumbles forward a pair of paces, doing her best to try to miss the dragonet that nearly runs into her. Alas, she is cast to the sands, knees cushioned by the fabric of her robe. And in that moment she comes face to face with the green, a shudder wracking her body. "Ohhhhh. Ohhhhh." Hand reach out to gently touch at her face, "Sullaketh."

Thanial releases Taire as if burned, yes their strategy works well. Perhaps too well. "Taire! Congratulations," he calls quickly, stepping back to put Fyne between himself and any other dragonets on the Sands. Sad, but true, now Nial will have to find some place to hide after this Hatching is over, some place where Taire can't reach him easily. Hrm, should be safe for at least two turns, and then after that, he can pack his way around High Reaches and... "Sullaketh and Taire! Perfect."

The seeming transparent depths of Water's Illusion Egg ripple to and fro with the onslaught of cracks and fissures, giving way against the sand into a heap of shattered shell as the beauty within is revealed. Tapering muzzle pushes outward, gleaming apple-green as moist wings are shaken free, hinting at the sunlit shimmer of opal along their sails until -- finally -- the illusion fades and Enchanting Charis Green Dragon enters this reality.
Enchanting Charis Green Dragonet
Lucent splashes of seafoam color the unblemished hide that clings to her finely sculpted frame and delicately crafted limbs. Along tapering muzzle and curving brow glistens the fresh green of a ripening apple, blending smoothly with the swirlings of turquoise that playfully tickle rounded 'knobs and 'ridges. Diaphanous wings cradle sunlit opal's shimmer within their elongated expanse while sprinklings of sage fall across both leading and trailing edges. Feminine refinement is offset by her flowing tail's mischievous mimicry and oaken talons' cunning curls.

Nonam smiles and waves. "Yeah! Congratulations Taire! And....Sullaketh!" Ok, that's a good thing, now, only a couple more to go. He turns his head and blinks, surprised as the green hatches. "Wow."

Principled Lancelot Bronze Dragonet continues his slow, gliding walk. No stumbling for this fellow. He is sure of himself, and his body is of itself, wings folded to not trip himself up as he walks slowly along. He pauses briefly near a group, looking briefly up towards one of them, then another, a burly fellow. But, he passes onwards. Where is it? He is here. He knows this for a fact. He merely has to find it. A small mop of jet hair catches his attention. And the bronze pauses. Briefly.

The weyrlingmaster meets Taire and Sullaketh and yet again guides the newest pair of lifemates to the edge of the sands with the others.

Maeko rather agrees with Razel's sentiment, though more along the lines of the 'healer' area. Looking up at Aryion curiously, she giggles again; enthralled once more, is he? She hasn't a response that he would hear, most likely, other than 'purdy'. Eyes take in the next, green hatchling, and she smiles to herself; though attention flickers between remaining dragonets continuously. Hmph. Not long now; then she can /rest/ those poor feet.

Enchanting Charis Green Dragonet steps free from the water confines of her egg's demise and begins stalking along the sands, roaming this way and that if trying to find something that's lost. Starting at the farthest end of the remaining candidates, she begins to inspect each one in turn, sniffing at some, wuffling at others, even pushing her way through a group and knocking one or two to the ground before moving onward.

Fynelox looks about and suddenly finds himself rather much exposed out here. Wasn't he behind someone just a moment ago..oh wait, Thanial is now behind him. Hazel eyes widen as he gulps, peering over his shoulder. Yep, that's where he went. "Hey how! Where you think you're standing!" The boy looks about and finds more dragonets heading their way, so spinning on a heel, he tries to circle around.

V'zan comments to P'tala, "Of course, Noswaith did point out that it'll be a couple turns before this group will provide any competition, or any prizes. His words, not mine, so don't step on my foot again."

The cook's gaze turns from curious, to interested, to aware.. as the Water's Illusion egg bursts apart nearby. Oy, time to walk again, she supposes. But unfortunately, Raz has run out of energy. Therefore, she prods along, her feet now dragging and sending more of the searing sand across her toes. Numbness has begun to settle in, and the pain has lessenned some; still... The time is near when she will finally be allowed to make an escape.

V'len chuckles as Yevgeth's head swings around to look at the newly hatched blue Drustanth near him. "He says that he's his father's son." V'len's nearly swaggering. And what does that mean? Does anyone want to know?

Aryion's eyes returns to the bronze as he takes his time, trying to find his perfect partner. Hair streaming behind him, Ary stands tall and proud, offering encouragement to Maeko, as a loyal friend should, eyes darting around the sands, but always coming back to rest on the bronze.

C'ra blinks at V'len, and hugs Drustanth close. "His father's son? Well -THAT- is okay," she murmurs, grinning at Drustanth, tapping him on the nose. "Nope, not a bit of V'len in you!"

Thanial notices the bronze and the green too late. Ugh, eep, egads... good thing Fyne is in front of him. The only downside is the younger candidate is shorter than he is and therefore offers scant protection. Not to mention the fact that he moves. "Stay put, it won't hurt a bit, " he tells the former herder as he pivots and dashes behind the other. "No one got mauled, no blood, just stay /right/ there, okay Fyne?"

Mauled. Hardly. That simply would /not/ do. Principled Lancelot's gaze flickers between tall and short lads, pausing longer upon the short. Hmmm. One of them, perhaps? One might do. Yes, perhaps. The bronze looks briefly up, a talon scoring delicately in the sand in an oddly formal sort of movement. Yes, indeed. But which? Ah yes. That is the test, to be sure.

P'tala straightens her back, giving a critical look to the little green Weyrlings. "You're right... a couple turns more." It looks like someone's wings are ruffled. Or, um, green with envy. "I don't think I'm worried as much about Noswaith's competition as Celaenoth's. Not as if she cares..." Much.

Enchanting Charis Green Dragonet finishes looking over one lot of candidates before she moves onto the next, though her bronze clutchmate catches her attention briefly. Deciding to find out what has him so enthralled, she moves closer to both him and the boys shuffling about. *sniff sniff*

Maeko flutters a raspberry once more, in the general direction of.. well, nothing, to tell the truth. Simply a vent of frustrations and impatience. Eyes flicker to Aryion again, and she giggles, peering at the bronze. /She/ thinks he should head over this way, 'cause it's her mandate and all, but not much chance of her will dictating her movement a'tall, now is there? Though the young bronze does seem to have his mind near made. Le sigh.

V'zan pats Penta on the shoulder. "You're lifemate has it easy. Every green that rises gets caught. The odds are not nearly as good for the male dragons giving chase."

Fynelox appears to be playing some sort of odd game with the other candidate, as the two of them appear to be chasing each other around the sands in circles. But it is the former herder that nearly trips and comes to a stop as he realizes that they're being rather studiously watched. "Uh oh." Not enough others to shove in his way this time. "Uhm, Nial? They're getting closer."

Razel finally gives up what little energy she has left, and flops, much like a frustrated teen, onto her bottom. Legs akimbo, she sits, leaning her elbows against knees, and ignoring the searing heat now warming her posterior. Let 'em come, or let 'em stay away. She's too sore and tired to do much either way.

Closer indeed. Ah yes. Wary, quiet, but there's an inner steel in that one. And thus, with utter confidence, does Principled Lancelot Bronze Dragonet make his choice, without an iota of hesitation.

Principled Lancelot Bronze Dragonet slows and then stops, meeting the large, gold-flecked hazel eyes of the boy who stands in front of him. He dips his head in a motion that conveys both consideration and then respect before offering Fynelox a bow, forming an odd picture of the graceful dragonet deferring to the small boy on the sands as their bond is forged.

P'tala snorts, nodding. "That's quite true... Though you do have to take it into account that not every green that gets caught is caught by an attractive rider. I mean, sometimes you wake up and it's just, like, /ugh/." Right, Penta. /Right/.

Aryion watches the bronze closely inspect a pair of candidates, watching as the green also makes her way over to them. A slight squeeze is given to Maeko's hand, deep blue eyes watching the bronze, Ary stands proud and true, as the bronze impress to Fynelox. He smiles and cheers, "Way to go Fyne! Congrats!"

Thanial ponders the little bronze and all but pushes Fyne towards him. No more running for him... he has Taire mad at him anyway, what's one more weyrling? Turning on his heel, he makes to run.. but wait, there's another one over there. Turning around again, he beams, "Fynelox! Fyne!" Nial forgets the other dangers on the Sands as he cheers for his friend. "Now you definitely have to worry about a proddy Kish... and Taire... and Menace!" And with that, the candidate crows delightedly.

V'zan smirks in response. "I could probably match you one for one if you want to start comparing horror stories, but lets look on the brighter side of things. Overall, this is a pretty good group, both in personality and appearance. Nice additions to the Weyr, and none of them are nightmarish options when it comes to flights."

Enchanting Charis Green Dragonet scoots around all the business of her clutchbrother finding his lifemate to take a careful look a the rest of the candidates on the other side. Back and forth she moves, almost completing a full circle of the sands before finding herself close once more to those she's looked at before. Hmm... perhaps... yes... perhaps....

Maeko sniffles dramatically. So much for her mandate, once more- she'll never make princess, will she? Green is remaining, and she peers- that one seems to be going for the same area. A shrug, and she sniffles at Ary next. "My feet hurt." Either that, or her pride. It's hard to tell which at this point. "I'm pretty much ready to go."

Fynelox feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest as the bronze bows his head before him, but that has nothing on the sensation that suddenly assails his mind. A trembling sensation through his legs makes him go to his kneels before the dragon as his expression turns into one of incredulous wonder. F'ox cries out a name that echoed through his mind with a fierce sort of joy. "He says his name is Kizokuth!"

Nonam calls out. "Ha! See? I told you so!" He almost leaps, but from excitement or the heat of his feet it's hard to tell. "Congratulations, Fynelox! And Kizokuth!"

V'len might disagree with V'zan about nightmare flights, eyeing N'cion. "Well, the dragons are lovely, I can say that much." He kicks the sand a little and then looks over to V'zan. "It's hard when you've got a bronze like Yevgeth... if he rises, I have to expect ... things."

Aryion looks down and nods, "Aye, I agree with you there, these sands are still pretty hot. Look at the green, wonder who she is going to pick?" Ary smiles, "F'ox and Kizokuth! Congratulations!"

Thanial sighs, "Kizokuth..." Wistfullness rises up in Nial and out of curiosity, his eyes look around for that last, lovely green. Where did she go? His head cranes left and then right... curiosity wars with a slight tinge of fear as he searches the Sands for her.

P'tala concedes the point, beaming again. "Well, that's true. Even Mena-... N'cion, when we get rid of that goatee of his, he'll clean up nicely too." The newest pairing is eyed with considerable mirth. "Oh, shards. That poor lad is on bronze... didn't Taire 'press green? Oh dear..."

V'zan can't help but reply, "So you don't ever expect those types of things if your dragon isn't in a flight?" Ahem... Let's turn our attention back to the hatching now.

So many candidates to choose upon the sands, yet careful investigation of all those before her proves that there is but one perfect lifemate. Thus, Enchanting Charis Green Dragonet finally makes her decision. Standing firm in front of the young man with roguish curls of midnight black, uncertainty becomes but a vague memory. Laying claim to the candidate, she makes Thanial her own and, in turn, gives herself to him.

Razel shifts a bit, allowing the heat to move from one cheek, ahem, to the other. Legs move back and forth too, swaying. A smile, though weak, is offered to Fyne. What she wouldn't give for someone to sweep her off her feet now... Dragon or human, makes no difference at this point...

S'lan dances across the sands once again to fetch F'ox and Kizokuth to the area where the others are gathered.

Thanial drops to his knees before the little green and lets out a loud gasp, tears streaming unnoticed. "Oh Riaeth! Riaeth, I see you, I feel you." Nial's arms wrap around the little green's neck as he sits, awash in the new emotions and feelings that flow over him.

Nonam can't help it. He starts to laugh again, even as he starts to make his way towards the exit. He's laughing with relief, and the knowledge that he was right. "Congratulations, Thanial! And Riaeth!"

Maeko yawns idly, rubbing at the back of her neck with her free hand, and tugging at Aryion with the other. "Well, now that /that's/ finished, can we head in? I want to get into some normal clothes, for starters." Sniff. These robes are, just, /so/ unbecoming. *cough* A chuckle at Thanial, and she smiles. "Good match, though. Congratulations, Thanial!"

Glancing to the new Weyrlings, M'lan watches the last few eggs begin to hatch. He glances then to the others, and begins to stretch, asking S'lan, "We should get them over to the Barracks..."

M'hail ventures hesitantly away from the bowl entrance.

Siani cheers, clapping soundly as the last Impression is made! Letting the Weyrlingmasters do their job, she moves towards those still left on the sands.

And with that, the ex cook... sorry, ex candidate, sighs a sound of relief. Finally, she can return to her kitchens. Razel drags herself to her feet with the help of some others who were left on the sands, and together; proudly, they go back to their old lives. A few may be teary eyed, but Raz herself is resilient, and honestly too tired to think about the circumstances at the moment.

There's not enough room for the... um... *counts* lots of us.

S'lan smiles once again as the green finds her lifemate and dutifully he walks over to guide Nial and Riaeth over to the others and begins yet again to teach the new weyrling how to feed his lifemate.

M'hail enters onto the Sands, joining with the other AWLMs as they begin to herd the weyrlings and lifemates towards the barracks. "Och," he murmurs, rather fondly, grinning at Sanna. "Ye did it, lass!"

Th'nial looks up towards S'lan and rises, "Come now, love," he calls softly, love finally alighting on the young man's features. No one else could ever compare.

Luchesi emits a small sigh of sadness as she scans the sands and realizes all that's left is egg shards. Oh well, time to get off these sands and into decent clothes. With a tired yawn, Lu follows the others off the sands.

Aryion grins as the green impress to Thanial. "Congratulations Nial! And Riaeth!" He glances down at Maeko, squeezing her hand gently. "That was fun wasn't it? Aye, I think we head in now and change." A glance and a smile is given to Razel before he lets Maeko go before him, leading the way off the sands.

M'hail escapes the heat of the sands.

G'aela escapes the heat of the sands.
Razel hurries off the burning sands towards the entrance's relief.
Calevath escapes the heat of the sands.
Isryn escapes the heat of the sands.
Maeko hurries off the burning sands towards the entrance's relief.
Gwaedoliaeth escapes the heat of the sands.
Luchesi hurries off the burning sands towards the entrance's relief.

V'len is shielding his eyes, looking up to the stands, doing his final wave thing. Give the spectators one last thrill. "It was wonderful, wasn't it? Ah, but now I can actually sleep in my own weyr...my own bed!" There's a sigh after that, with an almost dreamy expression.

Th'nial motions Riaeth closer.
Th'nial escapes the heat of the sands.
S'lan nods to M'lan and starts the weyrlings off towards the barrACKS

F'ox strolled towards the others, arm over his dragon's neck and it's not that hard given that the boy is only slightly larger than the bronze at his size. The happy expression on his face overlays the surprise that is still there.

Nonam hurries off the burning sands towards the entrance's relief.
Sullaketh escapes the heat of the sands.
F'ox escapes the heat of the sands.

Aryion hurries off the burning sands towards the entrance's relief.
Sanna escapes the heat of the sands.