July2000log

The World of Pern(tm) copyright (c) 1967 by Anne McCaffrey.

The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

An online session, recorded by permission of the author for the benefit of

members unable to attend.

July 2, 2000. Dragonsfire MOO. Janthro's POV.

Afternoon, early spring, Fort Weyr.

Cast: Janthro, N'ikos, Valyn, Tyrrlin, Jena, S'fina, Liessa, Lilyithe, Sabrielle, R'ea, Darys, Klari, Rhia, Liette, Jules, Coriana, Miafah, Seria, Cisusse, Alezan, Ralsin, Aine, Maradydd, Talisen, Shendti, Ainsley, Quin, Caleb, Akeli, Arien, Selya, Selvren, Adara, Vinnie, Zephre, Fiora, Calandra, Joerres, Bealah, Laria.

Vyath and Ranjith's clutch Hatches! Extraneous messages removed.

[In the Hatching Grounds galleries:]

N'ikos approaches along the narrow walkway from the dragons' ledges.

Janthro makes his fussy grey-and-green way along the tiers with Weyred

familiarity, until he's found a patch of healers to sit with, which he does,

all tense and waiting.

N'ikos walks quietly in, waving to the few people he knows before sinking into

a nearby seat.

S'fina approaches along the narrow walkway from the dragons' ledges.

Valyn glares once again, this time towards the arrival of N'ikos and by the

look of that glare, he's had quite a bit of practice. But he does consent to

wave back to the bronze rider, albeit very tersely.

Janthro contents himself with watching Valyn covertly, peeking now and again at

N'ikos for future developments.

Tyrrlin follows one of the staircases up.

Tyrrlin pauses at the top of the stairs, her Sketch bag clutched protectively in

her arms. She scans the seats, nodding to Jena, and looks for a place to sit.

Ylise approaches along the narrow walkway from the dragons' ledges.

Jena looks over at Tyrrlin, grinning. She taps the seat next to her. Sure, Tyrr

can sit here, that is - if she wants.

Hugo suddenly disappears ::between::!

S'fina walks down after setting Yebanth and looks about for a place to settle

herself. smiling and waving to Jena, Liessa, N'ikos and others as she goes to

try and find a seat.

Tyrrlin smiles at the girl, and makes her way over to the proffered seat.

Ylise heads along the narrow walkway to the dragons' ledges.

Liessa places herself as close to the barrier as possible, well she has promised

a wave to quite a few of the candidates. She throws a wave S'fina-wasrds and

motions to the remaining seat next to her and Jena.

N'ikos is as good-natured as can be on a day like this and just grins uselessly

back at the scowling Valyn, perhaps an undercurrent of smugness almost

surfacing. Then he decides to allow no more attention to the Harper and waves

back to S'fina.

Jena is near some of her friends. S'fina, Tyrr, and Liessa. Could she really

want more, just about now. Grinning, she sits back and looks onto the sands.

"You know, I was here when A'ria impressed." she says, beaming about.

Tyrrlin chuckles. "I've seen many an Impression when I was Weyrharper here."

On the sands, Arien walks in.

S'fina spots Liessa waving and indicating a seat. Edgeing her way there she

stops for a moment close to N'ikos. "Hello..Good to see you again. How are you?"

Looking up after the question she also indicates to jena and Liessa tha y sje is

making her way there.

Fenella walks in.

Lilyithe walks in.

This is Liessas second dragon hatching and she's actually quite excited for her

friends who'll be standing. She smiles as S'fina joins them. "Hi. We're fine

I think, looking forward to the action."

Lilyithe glides into the Galleries and wave along with a cheerful, "Hello!"

N'ikos smiles towards S'fina, hand raising again in a slight wave. "Quite well.

And you?" he asks politly, though speaking barely above a hush.

Tyrrlin waves cheerily ay Lilyithe.

Tyrrlin releases Timbal, who launches into the air.

Jena is the one, who is just kinda sitting there, chilling out. Not much could

get her down. "Oh, well I have some friends out there." she says, beaming in

proudness. Imagine if they make dragonrider. Whew. Too much excitement.

Selah blinks in from ::between::!

Sabrielle walks in.

Lilyithe smiles and looks for an open spot mear Tyrrlin, "Mind if I sit here?"

she questions.

Timbal swoops to the edge of the parapet, angling his head to get a really good

look at the sands.

Selah makes her way down the tiers towards the exit.

On the sands, Selah walks in from the entrance.

On the sands, Adara walks in from the entrance.

Tyrrlin smiles at the exuberant Apprentice. "Which of your friends are out

there, Jena?"

Valyn decides to start looking over the eggs, more from dismissal than actual

interest. It's been a long day and it's going to be even longer before it ends.

Tyrrlin looks up at Lilyithe, indicating the seat next to her. "Certainly."

S'fina stops in her motion up to her friends and turns round again. "im ok.."

to be honest she could not exactly say how she feels but she cant put it into

words so does not bother. smiling then she cocks her head to one side. "Care to

join me with some of my frinds from the harperhall?" She asks indicating Jena

and Liessa before then looking about and adds. "oh..that is if you are not sat

with anyone…"

Jena grins, in her own little proudness. "Well. Let's see. Ainsley, Maradyrdd,

Alezan, Coriana…" she says, stopping for a moment. Looking at S'fina and then

looking towards Liessa, giving that look of 'What's up with her'

Lilyithe smiles and slips into the vacant seat, "Thanks, I guess todays the big

day for the candidates eh?"

Sabrielle prances down from the ledges, a picnic basket over one arm and a

mishmash of expressions flittering over her face. She's here! She's there!

She's…oh dear. Ah! Yes. There she is. She's scootching in next to two perfect-

-and imperfect—strangers near the front. "Great day for a hatching, isn't it,"

she beams to one of her seatmates.

"If you don't mind…" N'ikos responds, rising swiftly from his seat. "I only

know one person well and she's on the sands." Which means that he had no one to

sit with until now.

Tyrrlin nods to Lilyithe, scanning the crowd, and giving Jena a quick grin for

the large number of her friends to be standing today. "Indeed. A hatching is

such a happy time!"

Janthro shifts, ruffles his hair nervously with a hand's twiggy fingers,

reshifts, peers down at the clutch.

Lilyithe chuckles and nods quickly, "Yes, Hatchings are……and I'm actually

attending one!"

S'fina smiles and then indicates where she is heading. As she reaches her

friends she smiles and takes a seat on the end leaving the next one for N'ikos.

Turning then to Jena and Liessa she smiles. "heya! Its been too long in seeing

you! Mey i introduce Bronzerider N'ikos..N'ikos this is Harper Jena and Harper

Liessa.." S'fina then chuckles as she has never used titles with her friends

before and is supprised at how they sound.

C'aen approaches along the narrow walkway from the dragons' ledges.

Tyrrlin chuckles. She looks to be in an unusually good mood today.

Conspiratorily, she murmurs to Jena and Lilyithe, "It's too bad I never got to

finish my sketch of the clutch for the Weyrwoman. So many things kept

happening!"

Tyrrlin half-coughs at S'fina….she's sitting here too!

Lilyithe turns with an interested look on her face, "Sketch? Lucky you….how

much did you get done?" she tries to start a conversation…..hopes.

Cadiwen makes her way down the tiers towards the exit.

R'ea walks in.

S'fina spins round on hearing a couch. "oh sorry..have i taken your seat?" she

begins to rise apologetically, but knowing the lady.

N'ikos follows S'fina up, nodding politely, though a bit shyly, towards the

Harpers. "Pleasure to meet all of you. Do any of you know Maradydd of Harper?"

Because that would be the only Harper he knows, so he's trying to find a

conversational point.

Tyrrlin opens her bag, taking out the chocolate-and-blood smeared sketch. She

winks at S'fina, no offense taken of course! "Well, I got this one nearly

finished, but, ah, there was a firelizard hatching and, well…things kind of

spilled on my page." She blushes at the memory.

A cheerful voice rings out, and R;'e a strides into the galleries, the hand

thatisn't supporting her youngest son raised in greeting. "S'fina, N'ikos!" The

woman weaves her way through the crowds in pursuit of fellow istans.

Darys walks in.

Lilyithe nods in total understanding, "So, by any chance did you impress at this

distracting 'lizard hatching?" she peers at the sketch. "Great picture!"

Jena considers. "Maradrydd? Sure I know her. Journeyman Harper, of course." she

explains. But, she doesn't know there is a chance of her becoming a dragonrider

Quick footsteps bring a tall, lean young man up into the galleries. Pausing

quietly, he glances around, not making a sound. Darys leans against the stone

facing of the galleries, his expression quiet, but doesn't speak, looking

vaguely curious.

Tyrrlin is flattered by the open admiration. "Um, no… I mostly watched.

There was this *darling* little queen, but … Cobi, I believe, Impressed her."

S'fina smiles as she listens to N'ikos and is about to speak when she suddenly

spinns round where she is half sat stood in an an apologetic way to Tyrrlin but

then smiles and takes her seat. "R'ea!" she waves as she catches the ladies

wave. Turning back to N'ikos then she asks. "Did you see Ahzraelth arive

atall?" a query from her dragon as well as her..

Lilyithe nods, "Lucky her! I believe I heard of that hatching but didn't

actually attend it. I was a tad busy with another hatching…..not that it

matters or anything."

C'aen walks out.

On the sands, C'aen walks in.

On the sands, Cobi walks in from the entrance.

N'ikos raises his hand once more in greeting, expecting to do so quite a bit

tonight. "Hello R'ea," he calls out with usual soft-spoken tones. Then to

Jena, "I hope Mardy impresses… " But that conversation is distracted to

another. "Ahzraelth? I don't think so… "

Tyrrlin points to Cobi. "There, there he is!"

Klari has connected.

Janthro murmurs, "But what's he doing down /there/?"

On the sands, Shava walks in from the entrance.

S'fina cocks her head to one side as she catches a note in N'ikos voice about

Mardy. A name that she is unfamiliar with. Turning to wave R'ea to join her

still as she thinks she turns back to the quiet spoken Rider. "Dalas, Quin and

Alezan are also candidates as far as i know..you know Healer Dalas from Ista

right?" she asks curiousely. taking her seat again finally she looks to the eggs

as she speaks the last of the sentence.

Above the sands, Ahzraelth flies in from the Bowl.

Above the sands, Ahzraelth wings down to the ledge.

Rhia approaches along the narrow walkway from the dragons' ledges.

Darys stands quietly; his hands remain tucked casually into his trouser pockets,

as his gaze turns from the people assembled within the galleries over towards

the sands. Aside from moving aside for a passing personage, he makes no effort

to speak, simply murmuring a quiet, "Sorry ma'am," before returning to his place

against the wall.

Valyn turns towards the larger group, having heard what N'ikos said, and glowers

a tad more for good measure at the bronze rider. Steal his cousin away from

Harper Hall so she can impress will you… .

On the sands, Shava gingerly heads across the burning sands towards the exit.

Shava follows one of the staircases up.

Klari comes up the stairs smiling at all of the people, most of whom she knows.

She waves to everyone, "Hey everyone." She's still got her blue hair and glances

out to the sands. Obviously she's not sick anymore, back to the normal Klari.

Tyrrlin gives an odd look to the blue-haired Klari. Blue?

Rhia makes a bee-line for S'fina's row, tripping over feet, making hasty

apologies, and generally not giving a shard for their comfort as long as she can

get a good seat. "Sofie!" is wailed shortly before she plops down next to her

friend. "Have I missed it? Where's Maradydd? And Coriana? And Alezan? Shardit!"

N'ikos nods briefly, blinking in quick pondering. "Yes I know Dalas, though not

very well," he replies, finally matching the Healer's name with the correct face

in memory. And suddenly Rhia has arrived all worried and he can't help but

smile. "You're on time Rhia…don't worry."

Lilyithe waves and smiles to Klari, "Hi!" she calls out.

Sabrielle simply bubbles in place, having no personage willing to let her stew

over on *them*, and rifles through her picnic basket with an engaged expression

on her face. "Hrmmrmrm…citron…bulge-nut…hrm. No, no, no, /no/. Where are

those berries?"

Janthro peeks — berries? — and perhaps sidles closer, in these packed ranks,

to see what else the cook might have in that basket. Waiting time. Have to do

/some/thing…

S'fina giggles and moves out of the way as Rhia gets compfy. Turning to N'ikos

she smiles. "well…Ahzraelths arived…" chuckling as she sees Him smile also

she turns back to Rhia. "as N'ikos said..your on time.." then as she frowns she

asks. "whos this Maradydd people mention?" then cocking her head to one side

she aslo adds. "i cant see anyone i know yet.. Quin, dalas as well as others

mentioned.."

Rhia just grins broadly at N'ikos, possibly in sheer relief. "Whew! I mean, I'd

be watch-wher meat if I didn't show up for 'em… Maradydd? Harper Journeyman -

very spiffy person." She sits up straighter, attempting to peer down onto the

sands. "Anyone brought any klah along? I was so paranoid about missing this that

I didn't think to bring anything…"

"Hands off, scamp," warns Sabri good-naturedly, having noted the lad's movement

polarizing her way.

Janthro makes a face, but stays put. "Was just looking," he mumbles, head

ducking, and rolls an appealing eye up at her.

A small group of ranch hands and their leader saunter and amble their way up the

staircase, most elbowing each other as the glance around. Various sentances are

heard. "Wooo . . if this ain't fancy." "Hey, where's our cousin." "Could

ya'll just kindly shut up." "Let's get some good seats so we can cheer for

Mardy!" Apparently, they're relatives.

Klari waves over to Lily and spots S'fina and runs over giving hugs out to her

friends, basically anyone close to S'fina before sitting down between Liessa and

S'fina, "Hey! Gosh, I expected Fort Weyr people to be here but not all of you."

But hey, people from all over were at Ista Weyr's hatching. "My hair is still

blue, S'fina." She giggles and glances at Rhia, "How's the hair?" The dyeing bit

was for S'fina's turnday of course!

N'ikos smiles back, though not from sheer relief. He's just in a strangely good

mood. "Mardy is a Harper frien … ." but then, of course, Rhia seems to have

explained much of it. So Nik just nods and agrees with a simple nod towards

Rhia and an added "What she said."

Sabrielle flails one armquietly, in this instanceas a more scrutinizing,

owlish glance falls on the lad. "Hey! You're from the crafthalls, aren't you?

Hmm…don't tell me…Harper?"

Sabrielle

An intense woman's fire trumps the double-edged sword of her features, keeping

wide mouth and bright, vivid eyes (only brown, alas, but it'll do) perpetually

open to casual glance. Certainly, her voice rings stridently enough at times,

but then there's a quieter side that expresses itself in those furrowed, bushy

'brows and up-tilted nose…would anything but such a side find her cultivating

that squint she affects? Too much reading, no doubt, though where she finds the

time…well. Outward tallness belies that she has only barely five feet on her,

while an impressive crop of dark brown hair ripples almostalmost!to her

back. We'll forgive that skinniness, and boyish form, won't we?

Various colorsHealer prominent first, then harper blue behindtwist to

signify her a cook for both, however the position is played up in the frilly-

lace knot.

Bold black stripes fringe the edge of the peasant-cut blouse the bares

collerbones and shoulders but shrouds upper arms in bunched up jade wool—light

weave, of course—, presenting the picture of innocent energy as those stripes

streamline from sleeves, down sides, to the hip-snugging end of the top. Then,

perhaps impractical, but nevertheless outfitted, she has a flowing skirt. It's

light, too, and drapes nicely in those ribbed black folds. Does saffron add

another set of stripes down, from hips to boot-touching fringe at end. Stripes!

When skirt swishes aside, green and red on yellow claims her socks, and boots

are the only plain affair. There's a winter shawl, too, but who in their right

minds would be interested in that checkboard white and red? Mercurial bouyancy

leaves a small blueChirisettucked along one shoulder. A skeletal wisp of

moon-lit silver poisons in a dry-green torque around her neck; firelizard, for

sure, but whether friendly or nay…well. Tsifveerat regards you, perched atop

Sabrielle's shoulder.

Sabrielle is 21 Turns, 8 months, and 10 days old.

/Vivid/.

Janthro immediately hunches his shoulder, the one with the knot, not the one

with the irked brown fire-lizard. "Healer," he corrects, but respectfully.

"You're — you're our new cook, right? I've seen you." And such a shadow he

makes, cool coloring and garb, beside her vivid light, but hey, it's company.

Klari has connected.

S'fina chuckles and shakes her head. "trust you Rhia to remember to even think

about drinks!" Her humor is dancing in her eyes as she also takes in who

Journeyman Maradydd is. All thoughts are suddenly gone as she laughs as Klari

pounces. "heya Klair!" she adds and chuckles. "your hair still going strong!"

smiling to her friend as she smiles happy to have som may of her friends about

her she chuckles and wiggles to make more room. Turning to N'ikos then she

smiles and nods to show that she heard what he said as her expression makes the

'oh' shape.

Rhia gives an impish wink to N'ikos before her blue-grey eyes shift towards

Klari. "Hey! No fair! My dye all came out after a few sevendays! How's it been

going?"

Llamri swoops down towards edge of the railing for a better view along with her

sister Menwy, the runnerhands lagging behind as always. Finally she calls out

sharply, "Hansom, Spurs, Wild Willem, Stinky Peet, get over here." You have to

be a drill seargant with this group.

"Ah! Healer? No, really?" Sabrielle squintssees the knotand claps her hands

together. "Yes, you're absolutely right. You /are/ a Healer." She knows best,

you see. "Don't smell too much like redwort, but you're young yet, I guess. And

as for me?" She seems to think about this a moment. "Yes, yes, yes…I'm the new

cook, if you could call me that. Madam Grand High Muckety-Muck Head Cook seems

to consider me only a bit more intelligent brand of drudge, though, and my art

is confined to free time." Alas! Poor Yurich, and all that.

Klari giggles and smiles at Nic giving a little wave before answering Rhia,

"Going great… Me that is. Some rider told me I was a freak because I had blue

hair and kept going on and on… But other than that I'm great, I had caught

that flu from Fort Hold on the way up here but I'm all better now." She's got

her right hand bandaged but her stitches should be coming out any day now. So

much going on, gah!

Sleepy_Guest follows one of the staircases up.

N'ikos wonders about all the smiles and impish winks coming towards him, but he

somehow manages to absorb them and throw back his own shy smile. "Hello…"

he adds to the overwhelming string of words that is Klari's greeting. But she

does know everyone else after all.

Liette walks in.

"I could call you Muckety-Muck," the healer lad says after a wide-eyed moment,

"if you like, cook ma'am. Me, I'm just Janthro. No muck at all, except when it

gets stuck on my boots." A shy smile.

On the sands, Daughters of the Air Egg swims along.

On the sands, Chicken Little Egg settles a bit more in the sands.

On the sands, Wicked Stepmother Egg rocks wickedly back and forth with an evil

vigor

On the sands, Mechanical Nightingale Egg clicks against the grains.

On the sands, Bluebeard Egg shakes, slightly, quietly.

On the sands, The World Is Too Large Egg turns slowly in the Sands for a long

moment. Just as abruptly, it stops.

Hansom, the rough-hewn, chiseled-featured, workhand type, is too busy chatting

up some of the lovely women of the weyr to pay heed to Llamri. "So, how are you

doing today, m'dear?

S'fina finally calms down from all the chatting and catching up she finally

sits back. watchingas eggs start to move and for some reason feeling a pulse of

adrenalin she asks quietly about then to all in close earshot asks. "anyone

taking bets?" a smile crossing her face as she thinks of the bets that she

likes to make to always seems to loose.

Rhia chortles at Klari's anecdote. "Really? Wasn't very nice of 'em."

Nonetheless, that sickeningly cheerful grin stays plastered on her face. "Hey,

N'ikos… What color's Maradydd gonna Impress?"

Sabrielle seems appalled. "Me? No! Sabrielle. Contort that as you like, but

Muckety-Muck doesn't fit. Not at all." Nose wrinkles tightly to emphasize.

"Janthro, then. No muck. Gotcha."

Right on time with the full-out spasms of the clutch on the sands, up the stairs

comes the full-out entourage of Lord Fort. Not so ostentatious as some of his

rank, still Naslon comes with a pair of token guards, a pair of (not so token)

handlers who carry refreshments and notes for frantically scribbling at each

other, even during this happy holiday, and, of course, Steward Sabin, marching

with the Lord Holder and muttering something at him. It's ignored: Naslon just

wants to sit down, and he does, and the Fortian sprawl settles around him with

audible huffs. They're here. Fine. Let's begin.

On the sands, Mechanical Nightingale Egg clicks again: click-clack. Something's

poking. Something's moving. Clickety-click — stop. Perhaps it needs oiling.

On the sands, Aine steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Jules steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Ralsin steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Alezan steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Coriana steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Cisusse steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Ainsley steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Shendti steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Caleb steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Maradydd steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Quin steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Seria steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Miafah steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

Janthro repeats dutifully, "Sabrielle. No Muckety-Muck for you, no muck for me.

—The eggs! Did you see?" And back to being a delighted boy, quick as that.

On the sands, Selvren steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

Liette lingers far to the back, a grubby hand scruffling up through her hair as

she watches the candidates come out onto the sands. Nevermind her expression,

she -is- quite excited, her face a rather bland countenance at the moment.

On the sands, Jules bows deeply before Vyath, full of respect and as a

demonstration for the Candidates.

Klari agrees with Rhia and nods, "Yeah I know but oh well… I laughed it off."

She glances back to S'fina, "Nope… Not that I ever make bets. I just wishes

everyone I knew good luck." And five of her closest friends were searched,

including Aine and Coriana, "N'ikos… How's Fiora doing? I haven't heard from

her in a while." Her attention is pulled to the candidates walking onto the

sands but she's still listening to everyone around her.

On the sands, Coriana enters the hot sands and frowns as she already starts to

feel the heat beneath her feet. She closes her eyes for a moment and goes over

her instructions before bowing to the queen. She squeezes Cisusse's hand before

turning her gaze towards the eggs, finding her favorite one among them all

before looking at the rest.

On the sands, Akeli steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Talisen steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

On the sands, Miafah follows close to Jules, with a respectful bow to Vyath and

a glance to make sure everyone's there.

N'ikos shrugs to both questions. He doesn't have any marks to bet with and as

for Maradydd… "All I know is, if she impresses green, I'll probably faint."

But that joking gleam suddenly lights in his eyes. "Fiora? I don't know…"

Suddenly his voice trail off, attention drawn towards the pillar of entering

candidates.

On the sands, Seria shuffles nervously onto the sands, face rigid with anxiety.

Shendti's hand is squeezed one last time before she lets it go. "I promised

Quin, and Cal." she explains, then calls, "Quin! Over /here/!" she waves her

friend over.

On the sands, Cisusse, hand in hand with Coriana, places foot after bare foot

out onto the Sands. Her first thought is to stare intently at the galleries-

her second is to be dragged into a bow to Vyath as her neighbour does so.

On the sands, Alezan steps into the vicinity of the looming Vyath, and bows

deeply, so as not to offend her too much, then scuttles over to be near his

friends.

On the sands, Mechanical Nightingale Egg clicksclackscracks and clatters in

fragmented shards, its jeweled encrustation lost to the black, black sands. Its

a sharp-edged muzzle that first pokes its way free, and despite the bits of

shell that cling to her birth-damp hide, her outer lids soon open over rubied

eyes that spark and spin with the life the egg's artifice lacked. Brilliant

life. Urgent life.

Forge-Formed Dusk-Green Dragonet

Dusk-dark jade carves a dragonet of sinewed femininity, lightning-quick and

forge-strong. Brighter bronze and cerulean vein that unpolished green in a

surge of light, like the last colors along a mountain range before night's

stolen them all away. Down her long, narrow neck runs the purest ore—then over

powerful shoulders, across strong, wide back, snaking lightning along her spiky

tail—dissipating only slowly into the careless rustle of silken, shale-sparred

wings.

On the sands, Ralsin grips Selvren's hand, and is apparently going ot make a

spirited attempt to hide behind the massive robe his twin is hidden inside. A

careful bow is offered to the parents, and then dark eyes go to the eggs, and

the adults who stand behind them. As fingers grip those of his twin, a shaky

smile goes to Arien, his fostermother.

On the sands, Aine, leading the mob of white-robed Candidates, does her best

formal bow to the radient Queen, before taking her place at one end of the

nervous semi-circle.

On the sands, Maradydd bows to the looming queen, hands pulling fretfully to

keep this clingy wet robe from sticking to her skin, lips moving rapidly as she

recites the Saga of the Sea Holder's Son-in-Law, aka "The Song that Doesn't

End." She's very careful not to look closely at anything: Vyath, the stands, the

sands, the eggs, the smithbrat who keeps stepping on the backs of her sandals…

What a mercy it is that she's on her best and blankest behavior just now.

Sabrielle's eyes are, indeed, riveted on the eggs, a egg…that Nightingale egg.

*That* gaze, though, is not quite admiring. "Such artificial beauty! Huh. *That*

one won't hatch any good, I'll bet." She's got more of an eye for the Sparrow

one.

On the sands, Talisen steps onto the sands, blue-grey skirts rustling, hem-bells

ringing softly. She's at the very end of the long line of candidates, right

after Quin, in fact. "Please fan out into a semicircle," she instructs, then

sucks in a sharp breath as Vyath's firstborn arrives.

On the sands, Selah suddenly disappears ::between::!

On the sands, Moving fairly gracefully, for someone with spaghetti legs, Shen

reaches the Sands, and then of course, shrieks (quietly, of course), and hops

across the sands in Cori's direction. "Cori!" A bow is remembered and given to

Vyath, Shen's knees bobbing awkwardly.

On the sands, Shuffle, shuffle, goes the line across the Sands, and Ainsley goes

with it, stepping high and long to avoid as much heat as possible. With her

wits not wquite about her, she bows, a little unbalanced-like, to th great big

Vyath.

On the sands, Upon prior instructions, Quin's foremost movement is an

overzealous bow toward Vinnie and Vyath that nearly leaves her face-down into

the sands. "Shards," is muttered as she straightens her posture and immediately

flanks her palm against her face to shield her gaze against the contrasting

light. "Ser, S/er/-ia!" she calls amid the white-clad candidates, finally

finding the girl and situating herself besides her.

Rhia listens with one ear to N'ikos, gives a cheer as friends enter the Sands,

and then resolves to going gooey-eyed at the green. "Lookit, S'fina, a green!

/Green/! Wow! First to hatch!" Beam. "That means that, uh, greenrider rule?

Right?"

On the sands, Flying Trunk Egg shivers, pauses, then rocks slowly and

forcefully.

On the sands, Zephre walks in from the entrance.

On the sands, Caleb comes in, his feet exposed to the heat of the Sands below.

He walks funny, trying to keep his exposed toes from the ground. He bends at

the waist, a bow to Vyath by advice. He walks quickly again, towards Seria, "Oh

jeez. This's it …" A crowd around him, a crowd he navigates.

You say, "The green's not bad. All sharp-looking. Oh, there's my friend Seria,

do you see her, Sabrielle?" He tries to point, but in the blur of white-robes,

surging with the Hatching's tides… "Maybe she'll get that green. Even if

she's not so sharp as that."

On the sands, Vinnie swings down from her lifemate Vyath's neck.

On the sands, Akeli pays her courtesies, and then skitters off to rejoin

Cisusse. No alphabetical order here. No order of any kind.

S'fina sits bolt up right as her attention is drawn to the sands as she sees

Candidates, eggs and whoooo! a green! all at once. suddenly consiouse of her

movement she relaxens and apologises to Rhia, N'ikons and Klari for breaking

their eye contact with each other. Looking from candidate to candidate then she

wishes luck for all, but just that little bit more for ones she knows.

On the sands, Arien shifts on slippered feet, fleets a smile back -

fosterlings, residents, the rest — and /chaos/.

On the sands, Selya's hanging back, like she's done the whole time. Back behind

all the rest of the candidates, wrapped loosely in her robe, antisocial as she

is wont to be. She bows, though, of course. She doesn't want to be whumpfed at.

On the sands, Selvren blinks, staring blankly out at the eggs — and Vyath.

Adam's apple wobbles as he gulps — it takes the oh-so intelligent young man a

few moments before he remembers what he was meant to do. It's only Ralsin's

movement that reminds him — he dips down in a clumsy bow that almost topples

him over, but as he regains balance, brains apparently begin to work again.

Cheeks flush, colour flaring — "Look! An egg has hatched — a green."

D'youthink?

On the sands, Bluebeard Egg shakes methodically, without seeming to be too

interested in the task.

Klari stands up as she spots Coriana and waves jumping around, "Cori!" She was

the first that Klari spotted. Cori and the green dragonet. "Who do you think

will get the first?" is said to pretty much anyone that can hear her, she's not

yelling now but still standing.

On the sands, Coriana gasps and clutches Cisusse's hand a little tighter before

noticing Shen and holding out a hand towards her. She sighs happily and smiles

at Shen a moment before looking over at the hatchling, letting out another gasp.

"Oh, look Shen. A green!"

On the sands, "Oh oh! A green!" Shen's nails dig into Cori's hand as she

frantically assesses the dragonet. "Cori, it's a green." A nice shade too, and

Shen turns to search for Weavers in the galleries.

On the sands, Alezan, busy shuffling his feet on the rapidly warming sands,

looks around, watching the action around him. Ooh! Is that a green? So soon?

S'fina nods vigourosley to agree with Rhia. "and we both know that Greens just

great!" could she really say aything else??

On the sands, Worn Dancing Slippers Egg begins the slowest of pirouettes, moving

to the choreography just like the rest of its troupe.

Valyn suddenly stops glaring and begins looking extremely frightened, lips

moving in near silence. If anyone was sitting nearby they would hear a

murmured, "Please don't let Mardy impress, please don't let Mardy impress,

please don't let her impress, please… . "

On the sands, Cisusse's free hand tugs fretfully at the too-tight neck of her

robe, attention zinging from place to place, and person to person. Vinnie:

dragon-mother's lifemate, and former fellow Candidate. Galleries: friends and

family, though too small to see. Eggs: cracked! And Akeli: relief. She

reaches out her hand fpr the trader girl, protectively.

Sabrielle sizes up the green with a shrugged shoulder. (Left shoulder, not

right, you see…it makes all the difference.) "She's pretty, but…sharp sounds

right. Like the taste of Telgar grass in a drought."

On the sands, Aine holds her breath as the Hatchling emerges. She gazes with

adoring eyes. Then she starts hopping as the sands start burning her feet.

"Ow."

On the sands, Forge-Formed Dusk Green Dragonet lifts her head, rubies undaunted

by even glows' yellow-green; she hisses at the light, at the shards that speck

her wings, and the eggs that rock all around her. Her, the first.

On the sands, Adara looks up from her spot on the Sands to find her children -

with a nanny of course - in the Galleries. Spotting the three boys, she waves

and smiles before turning back to the Hatching itself.

Janthro removes his eyes from the clutch to pin them on Sabrielle, patently

impressed. "You'll have to make some of that for us," he mumbles under the

surfing crowd noise. "It sounds … good. In a way."

On the sands, Flying Trunk Egg sparks, splinters, evergreen toppling into flame-

rich shards that fan out across the hot sands before the dragonet revealed

within.

Ominous Storm-Blue Dragonet

The evening sky glows through the high arch of this dragonet's neck, down along

the stretch of bulky belly and lean-muscled legs, smooth and sleek to the tip of

his tail. Long, dark wings are an ominous storm, night's own blue stretching

matte and velvety between wingspars in muted, mottled glory, while hints of the

coming clouds rest in gold-tipped grey talons.

On the sands, Coriana grins and nods, her eyes still on the green. "Oh, yes.

It's a lovely color." She smiles slightly at the hatchling before turning to

gaze at her favorite egg, still wondering what color will come out of that one.

"Did you have a favorite Shen?"

On the sands, Vinnie stands near Vyath, a hand on the gold's claw as if for

support. Vyath's support, not hers. She looks a little dazed. Where's Fiona

when you need her?

On the sands, Jules keeps close to her helpers and nudges Talisen as the first

egg pops, "Look at that little darling!"

On the sands, Seria reaches to either side of her, hands fumbling for first

Quin's equally dark hand, then Caleb's lighter one, wanting as much to offer

reassurance as to take. "Oh, Quin, /look/." she gasps, "Did you bet on that

one?" the blue is gaped at. "Oh /Quin/!"

On the sands, Ainsley's left standing as the as the line dissolves around her.

Where does she go? What does she do now? Rather wquickly, Quin is spotted, and

scampered over to. She'll protect Ainsley won't she? A hatchling wobbling

around on the Sands draws the girl's hazel eyes and she gasps. Green. Well, at

least it's small.

On the sands, Bluebeard Egg lets the shaking increase, but only gradually.

There's no rush.

On the sands, Ralsin nods slowly, shuffling delicately - placing Selvren between

the greenling and himself? Certainly. His pale white face begins to fade to a

fascinating mottling, as his usual blush kicks in. From behind Selvren, the

newly hatched blue is eyed with the smallest of nods. That's what he's after.

N'ikos leans foward intently. Aside from his own hatching at Ista, this is the

first he's ever seen and so far, it's overwhelming and amazing.

On the sands, Daughters of the Air Egg swishes slightly, making susurrant noises

as it rubs against the sand, tiny wavelets of motion, tiny wavelets of sound.

It's almost ready. Oh, it is.

On the sands, Arien's little help; her breath comes quickly with Katrineth's

ledge-poised thrum, but still she can cant a glance Vinnie's way — and back,

and up and out.

On the sands, Alezan hears another egg crack open, and turns his head to espy

the new blue. Then turns his head down to his feet. Is that smoke coming up

from his feet?

On the sands, The first hatchling, a formidable green, is registered by Quin's

nigh-dark eyes as her hand instinctively searches for Seria's and as it does,

her bony fingers buckle, tightly, into the candidate's own. "No, Ser, I bet a

blue," is admitted, the first of many wagers lost.

On the sands, Chicken Little Egg twitches slightly. And again. Then, as you

watch, you think its struggles are getting more and more frantic! Someone

inside desperately wants out!

On the sands, "A blue! /My/ egg Hatched a blue." Shen's dance stops, before

being resumed with frantic hops and skips. "Ouch! It's /hot/!" Shen glares at

the Sands. "Why do dragons like 'em so hot?" Galleries are scanned again for

Master Cala; wherewherewhere?

"Hah! You have an odd taste, m'boy." Sabrielle shakes her head amusedly. "Not so

many like what can be done with the more edible grasses, and those that do tend

to prefer the sweeter variety."

On the sands, Maradydd moves out and away from the rest of the group, staying to

the back since she's so awkwardly tall. What? Hatchlings already? She stands

tip-toe to peer at the green, only to find herself broadsided by a near

hysterical candidate from the seahold. "One's goin' to maul me, I just know it!"

the little girl blubbers.

All the ranch hands, aside from Hansom, suddenly break into a chorus of 'Oooohs'

and 'Ahhhhs' over the crowd pleasing sight.

On the sands, Ominous Storm-Blue Dragonet walks a few sure steps, taking him

outside of the fan of eggshell shard. He lowers his head, swinging it to examine

the row of candidates.

On the sands, Adara chuckles as the little green wanders the Sands. "Harry's

going to collect some marks," she notes to the rider beside her, refering to the

man's notorious betting.

S'fina shakes her head as she finds her own face forming that memberace,

embarrasing smile that she used to chuckle on seeing. blinking her eyes she

turns to rhia. "I wounder who the green..oh a blue too!" she had not noticed

that one, so deep in thought.

Janthro says, "Just to nibble," in a soft voice, not quite wheedling, nearer

musing. "To try, to taste — so much in life I haven't done." He broods out at

the sands again. Grass, indeed.

On the sands, Not of her own will, Cisusse's attention is drawn to the first

hatchling by the focus of squeals and calls. There's a lock put between her

eyes and the forge formed youth, if only for a moment. Will, strong will: she

tears her eyes away. Mustn't look. Hands to Akeli and Coriana, held tight.

She doesn't want to be a Candidate. She's their protector.

On the sands, Wicked Stepmother Egg begins twitching slightly…and slowly.

On the sands, Selya doesn't blubber like Maradydd's little friend. She's rather

the stoic type, actually. Her little face is pale, and she hangs back, even more

now, far far behind Maradydd and that squawking candidate from the seahold.

On the sands, The smile on Cori's face growns every so slightly bigger as she

notices the blue. "Oh, that was your favorite?" She smiles happily at her friend

and clutches her hand a little tighter, moving slowly from foot to foot. "It is

really hot. I'm sorry I wore these sandals." She sighs and stands on her right

foot for a moment as she watches her favorite egg twitch.

On the sands, Akeli remains more or less in place, save the slow, absent-minded

shift from foot to foot. If she's to have one, she'll have one.

On the sands, Alezan shuffles slowly over to Coriana, wanting to be close to

someone he knows well. "Mind if I join you?" he asks, watching the green and

blue snuffling around.

On the sands, Selvren prods Ralsin with his elbow, nodding his head towards the

eggs that he spent so much time with during the egg touchings. "None of my eggs

have hatched yet!" Eggs? Well, a manly man like Selvren couldn't just be

satisfied with /one/, could he? Hand is tugged, Selvren trying to pull Ralsin a

few steps back from the blue. "You can get a better view from back here." And,

incidently, away from the two dragons on the sands.

On the sands, The World Is Too Large Egg twitches. No more.

On the sands, "I didn't bet at all." Caleb gives a squeeze to the hand within

his own. "Jeez, these sandals don't offer much from this /heat/" He continues

his hopping antics, looking up and over them. At the galleries, at the ledges

above. "Center stage in this big show. Oh jeez." As if it weren't enough on

the poor guy. He looks again towards the eggs as they teeter, crack, exlode,

and leave their contents upon the raised sand.

Fiora approaches along the narrow walkway from the dragons' ledges.

Rhia merely sniffs at the blue, fishing around a pocket and producing a tuber,

which she then nibbles on. "Nice blue," she says, nodding approgingly. "Just not

as nice as the green."

On the sands, The dragonets are fairly glared at. Ainsley's not really hiding

behind Quin, nor really standing beside her. She's just there, not moving much

at all. Then the galleries are given a sweeping glance. Oh. There are people.

And is that…? Liessa, and Jena! An exuberant wave is sent that way. And then

she returns to watch the eggs and the hatchlings.

On the sands, Aine shuffles her feet to ease the burning heat, not able to take

her eyes from the dragonets. "Oh, wow." It's finally real - real Sands, real

Eggs, real Dragonets!

On the sands, Miafah looks a great deal calmer than the last time she stood on

these very sands… though she still shivers with each hatched egg. The twinkle

of her sage eyes shows her excitement as she glances to the Weyrlingmaster and

her fellow assistant.

On the sands, "You lost a bet?" Seria's nervousness falls with the querry, "I

didn't know you did that." she grins, then returns attention to the eggs. Oh,

the /eggs/. "I think their s'posed to be like that, Cal. Aren't they

/gorgeous/?"

Janthro the herdbeast? Sabri can picture that. "If you're into doing everything,

Janthro, you simply *must* try the red-hot stew I've yet to have time to make,

except in a more weakened form. /That/ stuff cleared away winemaker Terise's

cold…the real stuff will leave you smoking at the ears." She licks her lips

after this, savoring the idea.

Tyrrlin sighs at the green. Her eyes mist over a bit as she gets a bit of a

dreamy expression on her face…maybe, someday…

Wild Willem jumps up in an high leap from his seat, waving his ten-gallon hat

about. "Wooo-hooo! Go eggies!" He's ready to celebrate anything and

everything.

Jena looks proudly and waves to Ainsley, with a huge grin on her face.

"Look'atter!" she says, with a chuckle.

On the sands, Forge-Formed Dusk Green Dragonet lifts her head that much higher,

winding between the eggs, rubbing up against them and shedding bits of shell as

she does: she steps to intercept through glares and glances and lack thereof,

towards one particular hands-held trio, a jittery sort of method. The sands,

they get in her way, setting her slipping but still she moves on in a gleam of

blue- and bronze-fired green.

On the sands, Talisen barely hears Jules, so intent is she on watching the

candidates; as they settle in, however, she turns to her companions with a

smile, and fades back towards the Sands' edge and Arien, a shadow in sisal and

silver.

On the sands, Ralsin eyes the blue a moment, and then willlingly retreats,

although he's peering around his twin for another sighting. Fingers newvously

twist themselves in his robe's material, and then the boy freezes, as things get

a tiny bit breezy. A quick glance down confirms that a couple of the terrible

stitches holding his ramshackle robe together are failing. A small slit has

appeared. This is not good.

On the sands, "Ack!" Shen shuffles away from Cori a little; Body heat, bad. Her

frantic hop skip re-ensues, as eyes are cast over the eggs and Hatchlings. "This

is—Hot!" Definitely, and Shen gives a little jump, before returning her eyes to

the Hatchlings.

On the sands, Coriana smiles over at Alezan and offers him her other hand.

"Please! The more the better." She giggles nervously as she tries to watch the

hatchlings, her favorite egg, and the galleries all at once. Her smile continues

to get bigger as she notices her friends in the galleries, staring at them for a

moment before turning back towards the hatchlings.

On the sands, Awe-struck, Quin's only comprehendible words are: "Blue, picked

that one." Unconsciously, she reaches for her back pocket, only to pat at the

seamless cloth covering her rear; aggravated, she allows a curt sigh to escape

before motioning toward Seria, belatedly announcing: "Look, a blue!"

On the sands, "Hey, it's okay, really it is." And then Mardy finds herself the

clinging post for the little seaholder. So much for playing the consoler. Now

they'd better both hope they don't get stampeded by the incoming dragonets…

On the sands, Worn Dancing Slippers Egg pivots in place, the satiny gleam of its

shell catching the light like the embroidered edge of a petticoat. Plie,

releve, plie, releve.

On the sands, Bluebeard Egg shakes spasmodically as cracks expand through the

gleam of sapphire and gold to reveal a damp bronze dragonet. Eyes survey the

landscape even as he runs forward to explore, wings fanning to dry in the heat

of the sands.

Sculpted Leviathan-Bronze Dragonet

Steel's shimmering stamp races down his finely muscled sides, overtones a

gleaming complement to the deeply burnished bronze which otherwise characterizes

the dragonet's smooth hide. Wide-set orbs are sunken within the elegant wedge-

shaped head above his arched neck, the crowning touch of his svelte figure.

Liquid bronze shines again from each ridge along the line of his back while his

underside, from sculpted chin to narrow, well-formed wings to sinuous tail, is

stained an ever-yellowing henna.

"Sure thing, Sabrielle," Janthro answers comfortably and leans forward on

forearms crossed over his thighs. Then he slants a slanty look back at her,

brightly amused. "Should've asked you to cook for the banquet after this is

over. They'd like that: red-hot stew. It'd buck up the sad ones."

On the sands, Wicked Stepmother Egg the twitch slowly heightens to begin

rocking. It almost seems to have an ominous beat to it. Something inside seems

to be laughing evilly.

On the sands, Alezan takes Cori's proffered hand, smiling at her. "Thanks.

Isn't that green precious? So…green."

On the sands, Ominous Storm-Blue Dragonet moves away from the eggs, closing in

on that row of candidates. He snaps his wings open, looming in the direction of

a rogueish-looking boy.

N'ikos notices Fiora's approach and smiles, throwing a almost detatched wave

towards her. He's a bit drawn to the Hatching since he's never seen one from

this perspective before. "Hello Fiora."

On the sands, Zephre holds down her edge of the Sands, watching and waiting and

sinking into the shadows, ready to step forward if needed. Meanwhile, the eggs

- the candidates - the other riders - are observed in quiet.

On the sands, Bronze is ignored; Shen can't Impress that one, and so she just

continues hopping. "Cori, lookit the green, and the blue! Oh Quin, if only the

blue'd Hatched earlier, you'd have won your bet!" Shen shuffles, nearly

dislodging flipflops from her feet.

On the sands, Cisusse remains in the middle of a trio that has now become a

quad, suppressing a nervousness that she's convinced she shouldn't be feeling.

Teeth are clenched, head is held high. She's on her gaurd, shifting ever so

slightly forward in front of Akeli, to her right. The blue, the new bronze, and

the first green — dangerous — are kept within sight.

On the sands, Caleb finds himself resisting the urge to bolt fromt he sand

heating his legs. "They're here." A simple sentence as he gives another look

up. When people climb tall heights, they're told not to look down. Riders

should tell the Candies not to look up. It's not doing Caleb any good. "And

there're more."

On the sands, Coriana gasps and stares at the bronze for a moment before her

favorite egg catches her eye again. She nods and smiles over at Alezan, holding

both his and Shen's hand a little tighter. "Yes, it's a lovely shade of green.

What a handsome bronze though, huh?"

On the sands, "Oh. By the way. Ral." Selvren flaps his spare hand at his

twin. "I bet every mark we have on me impressing. Oooh, look, another egg is

hatching — a bronze! Aha!" Again, Ralsin is jerked, this time tugged forward,

wide eyes fixing on the sight. "I knew that one would hold a bronze." Right.

It's easy to say that *now*.

Sabrielle laughs stridently—the noise dies in the face of all the other audio

clutter, but ah well. "Maybe, maybe. It takes a staunch figure and a well-

rounded tongue to appreciate such strong flavor. Such as it is with most

superior fare." Eyes dart back across the dragonets…blue, bronze, green,

candidates, ooh, aaah, etc.

Fiora snags a smidgen of a bare spot next to her clutchmate. She even finds

herself holding onto his arm for comfort. "How's Mardy doing?"

On the sands, "Yeah, a blue." Seria agrees breathlessly. "I wonder if any of the

ones out there are one of /ours/, Quin, Caleb. Maybe yours?" she nods at Caleb,

"They /are/ here, and so many more eggs, Cal."

Janthro is quick to say, "I'm staunch!" Just try him, though that image of a

rounded tongue— He gives her another bright look, then turns back to the

sands. And: "Bronze," he mutters, just that, and a frown.

Llamri rolls her eyes at Willem's antics, before telling him the plain and

simple truth. "Sit down now. You're embarressing us all…Think of Maradydd

on the sands… "

On the sands, "Ooh! Bronze, you say? Where?" Alezan turns his head this way

and that, finally locating the new dragonet. "Oh, he's magnificent. I can see

he'll grow up to be handsome."

Rhia waves cheerfully to her fellow clutchmate/greenrider. "Hey, Fiora! How's it

going?"

On the sands, Ainsley takes a deep breath, that borders on a sigh, sparing

another glance at the galleries full of faces watching them. She subtly

straightens from her not-quite-cowering position, and watches the stumbl9ing

dragon babies. She has an audience. Now she steps up to the line of

Candidates, beside someone that she doesn't really notice.

On the sands, Quin is overwhelmed - for once! - by the cacophony about her:

impressions left and right, the candidate remains stoic and still, bar a

sporadic cry here and there as her wagers are fulfilled. And then, quietly, she

mentions, "My theory, it isn't working.."

On the sands, Forge-Formed Dusk-Green Dragonet might be precious; might be

dangerous — no, surely is, with those talons that forced their way through even

brittle shards — might be lovely, too, but for the moment she's easing to where

she's watched, toward a gangly girl and her amber eyes.

Klari glances around hearing people talk to Fiora and spots her giving a smile

and a wave before her attention is pulled back to the sands, so many of her

friends are out there.

On the sands, Off on the far edge of the clutch, a pink-swathed egg shudders and

gives way to a small, pale-hued brown dragonet who wanders in a wide swathe

towards a hearty fishercraft lad. Moments later, the boy is reduced to tears as

salty as his precious seawater: "Osgath, ye say? Osgath!"

On the sands, Akeli's eyes widen over some fear, only to settle back down in

resignation. She keeps her focus on Cisusse's nearby shoulder.

Sabrielle appears to look over Janthro with a more appraising eye than the

introductory size-up. "Staunch? Maybe, maybe. Only one way to tell, you know.

Bronze? Yes, bronze. Nice-looking one. You have aspirations of dragon-riding?"

On the sands, Chicken Little Egg goes twitch twitch, roll roll. Gotta get out,

gotta get out. The shell, however, doesn't seem to be noticing, however,

remaining stubbornly intact, despite more insistent movements from inside.

On the sands, Ralsin is jerked forward as Selvren moves to inspect the bronze,

gulping as small fingers try to hold that slit in his robe closed. Pure terror

colours the boy's expression, and he takes another stumbling step, pulled

forward. And now he's got hot sand in his sandal, and he's doing the Sands Dance

to try and rid himself of it, wincing, and all the while holding his robe

closed. Some folk just aren't meant to have coordination and style.

On the sands, Wicked Stepmother Egg slowly rises in speed of rocking. Not quite

ready to hatch but still rocking enough to bring some attention to it.

On the sands, Maradydd is distracted from following the path of that baleful

blue by the several twists and tendrils of steam, rising up around her eyes.

What the—? Oh. Her robe.

On the sands, Ominous Storm-Blue Dragonet allows slack to loosen his mottled

wings. He ignores the other dragonets, even the near ones, in favor of examining

the people. He stands, watches, his whirling eyes reading them like books.

S'fina looks away from the hatchings and candidates as she hears a name echoed

from both Rhia and N'ikos. "Heya Fiora!" she adds with a smile before her eyes

suddenlt snap back to the sands as someone calls out a name. "Osgath did he

say?"

On the sands, It's curious. Selya's found her own little group of friends, still

back from the rest. It's the snobby older girls she didn't like during

Candidacy, before just now. But just here, just now, they seem as scared as she

is, and lacking in the excitement that the rest seem to show.

Fiora raises a hand to wave and the corners of her mouth in a smile as another

Istan calls out. "Rhia! A little easier from up here..eh?"

On the sands, Barik—that would be Basil's son, probably in his late teens with

a lot of bulk to him—stands behind some of the foremost candidates, hands

folded behind his back as he waits in seemingly dull-witted patience. It's as

if he doesn't know what's going on at all, only that it's hot and that he's

sweating in cataracts.

On the sands, "Your theory?" Seria is perplexed in the midst of all this chaos,

but it takes only a moment for her to realize what Quin was talking about, "Oh,

your theory!" she eyes the dragonets, "You're right, it's not."

N'ikos's attention switches towards Fiora with a smile. "She looks nervous."

Actually he knows she's nervous, but still… .

Janthro shakes his head swiftly. "No, no, Sabrielle. 'M a healer. Always was

meant to be, always will be" He offers her a smile, willfully oblivious to that

inspection. "'M just remembering, that's all. —Oh, has the blue chosen? And

that green's so near…."

On the sands, Caleb isn't so stoic as the further-away member of the grouping.

"So many, yeah. I hope one's mine …" He couln't handle having to go back to

Boll and possibly find his uncle gone (as usual), or just shunning him. "What

/is/ the theory anyway?"

On the sands, Talisen points to the brown's Impression: "There's the first!"

Grey eyes seek out Vinnie, glimmering with her own unchecked tears.

Valyn breathes deeply, throwing petrified glances towards the sands and

desperately willing all dragonets away from Maradydd. As long as they stay away

from his cousin, everything will be just fine.

On the sands, Alezan hears Talisen's cry, and looks around for the lucky person.

"Over there! Look!" He points out the new pair to Cori.

On the sands, Aine looks this way and that. Bronze! Green! Blue! And oh, one

could be for her! Well, okay, not the Bronze, but…

On the sands, Sculpted Leviathan-Bronze Dragonet is quick about his business,

racing through the crowds of those..white things. Snout is lifted high as he

moves, every so often wiggling as he searches out that elusive one.

Rhia giggles, idly tossing back her red-gold locks nonchalantly. "Oh yeah! Have

to admit that I'm still nervous for my friends, though." A nudge goes to S'fina.

"Nice lookin' bronze over there," is said, a gleam in those blue-grey eyes.

Tyrrlin picks out a few Candidates she thinks likely to Impress, and murmurs

encouragement to them.

On the sands, Cisusse's gaurd heightens: in terror, perhaps, or in caution.

Double attention on the vibrant green dragon-lass is afforded, and she tenses.

No where near her, nor Akeli, will she let it come. "They're ug—" Shh. She

can't finish.

On the sands, Vinnie watches that first impression, a little short of breath.

Wasn't too long ago that she was out here, nervousno, downright scaredand

anticipating nothing more than heartbreak and failure. She catches Talisen's

look, just for a moment, and flashes her a taut smile.

"Hey S'fina! 'Lot of Istans here tonight!" [?]

On the sands, "Well done!" Shen calls over to Osgath and his lifemate, as she

shuffles back to Seria. "Oh Seri, wasn't that pretty." Candidate stops her

gushing effectively by adding: "I'm going to fry in this heat." Well, she is,

and so eyes return to the Hatchlings, and occasionally the eggs.

On the sands, Coriana smiles as her glance flickers from her favorite egg to the

hatchlings, then to the two next to her, following Alezan's gaze. "Osgath, huh?

I like that name." She smiles over at the brown before turning her attention

back to those other dragonets on the sands, still hopping from foot to foot as

she tries to avoid burning her feet.

On the sands, Daughters of the Air Egg writhes with an almost liquid

sinuousness, and still, there's the whisper of it's surface against the hot

sands. It can't be heard, it's so soft. But it's there.

On the sands, Selvren seems to be obvious to his twin's antics, his attention

arrowing in on the bronze. "Do you think it's good enough for me, Ral?"

Malachite eyes flicker towards Ralsin, and his brow creases. "Hey, Ral -

you're gaping. Careful, or the fabric will tear more. If only you were as good

at making robes as me." So says the person in a robe that's way, way, way too

big for him. In fact, it's almost a gown, rather than a robe, though it's short

enough to reveal hairy knees. "Look! An impression!"

On the sands, Forge-Formed Dusk-Green Dragonet can. Finish. And she rears up

to her hindpaws, spreads her wings wide, guard or no guard — let it be done.

On the sands, Forge-Formed Dusk-Green Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon

Cisusse.

Sabrielle arches curious eyebrows. (Both of them curious, not just the one.

Though, the right seems just a bit more inquisitive than the other.) "Healing is

an admirable craft," she says, as a lead into questioning. "What to remember?

Did you stand once? Or a parent rides…?" Eyes on the sands, helter-skelter.

"Blue? Chosen? Can't tell."

On the sands, Ominous Storm-Blue Dragonet arches his neck.. girl-girl-boy, a

chattery bunch, they are. One step forward, and another, his tail lashes to

distract that roguish boy… his eyes fixate on the blonde curls framing his

face.

On the sands, Quin, while one trembling hand remains entrenched amid Seria's,

continues to reach, as she is accustomed to doing, at the pocket that is not

there. "I need to write this down, all of this.." silently is muttered as she

keeps mental track of the hatchlings as the green steadily approaches Cisusse;

and then: " — Susse! Seria, look, Susse impressed!"

On the sands, Alezan sees Cisusse's Impression, and breaks into a few tears.

"Congratulations," he calls across, caught up in the emotion.

Spurs folds his arms in absolute boredom and levels a sour glance at the other

runner tenders, aka Mardy's relatives. "I don't see what's so interesting about

all this dragon riding nonsense. Just filling Maradydd's head with all that

silliness because her father was a rider." He lets loose a disparging sniffle.

On the sands, Aine stands, agape, as the Green and Cisusse join! Then, when it

sinks in, she bounces, clapping and cheering! "Well done!" Then she remembers

where she is and calms down. Respectful bow to the Queen. Decorum. Ahem.

On the sands, Ainsley stands on tip-toe, which not only gives her a view over

the bulky Candidate's head in front of her, but keeps a large part of her feet

from even touching the Asands. Two birds with one stone, so to say. "They're

not very cute, are they?" she asks the anonymous blonde beside her, grimacing in

the direction of a recently impressed brown.

"Both riders," Janthro mutters and leans way forward— "I think the green!

Maybe. She's rearing — oh, a feisty one." He says that with mingled wariness

and admiration, to be sure. "Wonder about that blue, he's so … forbidding

about it all—"

Klari watches as the green moves into Susse and her smiles widens and her eyes

water. She doesn't say anything but the smile on her face tells that she's happy

for her friends but the tears, that's the fact that some won't be traveling with

the Clan anymore. Klari's being too quiet but focused all the same.

On the sands, Cisusse relaxes. All the tense hand-holding and all the wary

gaurd dissipates into nothingness, save for one stumbling step forward and the

reaching touch of her hand to the green's nose. Simply: "Delioth?"

On the sands, "Hey, you're robe's wet, you know that?" Mardy forces a smile.

"Thanks for telling me." Such lovely, informative people here. And look, there's

Cisusse with a dragon, and she didn't even see Impression. Her whistle comes

belated, but it's still strident. "All right!"

On the sands, Coriana grins as she watches Cisusse, mouthing a congrats towards

her, knowing she probably wouldn't have been able to hear her anyway. She turns

towards Shen and nods, her eyes shining with excitment.

On the sands, And there goes Akeli's personal guard. She doesn't shout after

her, doesn't applaud. It's all just a bit too intense.

On the sands, Wicked Stepmother Egg begins to rock even harder and begins to

slowly roll along the sands but then comes to rest a few inches from where it

was. Still rocking it begins rolling back to where it came from and goes back to

rocking in one place.

On the sands, "Gorgeous." Seria agrees with Shendti, tossing a look to her over

her shoulder. "Oh /Susse/!" she cries out, flashing the brightest grin yet, "She

/did/, she did!" she cries, and then cries out once more, "Delioth!"

On the sands, "'Susse!" Shen waves frantically in congrats. "Well done!" Nails

claw at Cori's hand as candidate calls to What's-her-name: "You didn't Impress

first!" There is way to much sugar in her tone, and by rights, Blondy's brain

should be rotted.

On the sands, Chicken Little Egg finally catches up with the occupant: gotta

get out, gotta get out! Cracks, chasms, splinters!

On the sands, Chicken Little Egg falls apart altogether, ushering a shaky little

blue dragonet into the world.

Gentle Porphyrion-Blue Dragonet

Porphyrion blue blazes over the length of this lean dragonet like a soldering

flame, while his talons, ridges, limbs, and tail stretch into a cooled

periwinkle. Wherever light will shine, his suncatcher wingsails glow indigo and

violet between the grey leadings of bracing spars and among the intricate web of

vein and artery, while in darkness they remain inscrutably inky. And although

he is slim nearly to the point of being waiflike, he still has a paunch of a

belly, giving him incongruous roundness and unmistakeable charm.

On the sands, Selya soon grows bored of the once snobby girls. They're just as

dull, frightened, if a little less unpleasant. And she heads over toward the

slack-faced boy. She certainly isn't looking for intelligent conversation.

S'fina looks about and then smiles and nods. "ista's here!!" her call is lost

though in congratulations call by all about her. Blinking she looks from rhia.

"drat..i missed it! Cisusse was it?" her eyes then searching out the new pair.

Cocking her head to one side then she chuckles and turns innosent to Rhia.

"What do you mean? Bronze??" a smiles playing at her mouth.

On the sands, "Connngratssss!" It's almost a roar, Selvren trying to shout loud

enough to be heard over the general din. "Hey, Ral, did you see that,

didyadidyadidya?" Ralsin is elbowed again. "Over there! It's Cisusse!"

On the sands, Ralsin pauyses, blinking as he's draged yet closer to the

dragonets, speaking for the first time since hitting the sands. "Wait. You bet

/all our marks/?" The question comes as a vaguely resigned repetition. Nothing

will stop his twin gambling, this he knows. So, rather than try his hand at

reforming, he hides. Selvren is placed firmly between the dragonets and his

skinny self, and that's how he attempts to keep it, pulling the otherboy's arm

this way and that.

On the sands, The brown pair was already assisted off the sands, so Jules goes

for Susse and Delioth. She gives them a moment, then, "Susse? Delioth? Come this

way please." All her hard mannerism from before is gone now that she has /pairs/

to take care of.

On the sands, It's a soft sound, the cracking of this mottled egg, but the

energy of the tiny green hatchling within carries it bouncing across the Sands,

inspecting and weighing, to the feet of a nervous Holder lass whose joy shines

as she greets her new lifemate.

On the sands, Caleb looks, "Susse? I thought she was a not-Candidate?" A look

of confusion crosses his face, as he recalls a coversation with the rather

irritable Susse. He falls over, "Aack!" as he's distracted from discussing the

theory, tumbling onto the sand.

On the sands, Worn Dancing Slippers Egg begins to move more violently. Instead

of waltz-like rocking, it begins to salsa.

On the sands, Alezan gets a hold of himself, and sniffs quietly. "Another blue!

Oh, he's /cute/!" he exclaims.

Fiora's eyes mist as her old clanmate impresses. Craning her neck up to see a

certain jungle princess on the ledges, her mind is suffused in the warmth of the

memory of when it was they. Her hand, in the mean time tightens on Ni'kos's arm.

"Oh my!! It's it's…just like …us!"

On the sands, Ominous Storm-Blue Dragonet ignores the dark haired girls, they're

not the one's he wants. A few more steps, and he closes the distance to his

tumbled prize.

On the sands, Ominous Storm-Blue Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Caleb.

On the sands, Akeli wrings her hands behind her back, everything slick with

sweat.

Yose blinks in from ::between::!

N'ikos claps for the impressions, memories of his own welling up, softly and

unexpectedly. Not that he'll say anything, congratulations or such, but still

he applauds. His only answer to Fiora is a bright nod.

On the sands, Sculpted Leviathan-Bronze Dragonet stops in his run to sniff at

one Candidate more closely. But something in the short, portly black-haired

child doesn't meet with his approval, and again, he's off. Until he spies a

lanky form, out of the corner of his eye. He comes once more to a dead stop.

On the sands, Coriana bursts out laughing as Shen makes fun of the brat, and

clutches Shen's hand a bit tighter, whispering teasingly towards her. "Hey, be

nice." She turns and looks at Alezan for a moment before glancing out at the new

blue. "Oh, yeah, he is." She watches the first blue for a moment, that smile

appearing across her face again. "Oh, congrats Caleb!"

On the sands, "Yeah. Bet it on a certainty. Everyone knows I'm going to

Impress; I'm surprised I got such good odds. We're going to make a tonne of

marks." Smile is confident, Selvren beaming towards his twin. Actually, there

was quite a few reasons why he got such good odds. "So, whatd'ya think about

that bronze? Good enough for me?"

On the sands, Gentle Porphyrion-Blue Dragonet falls flat on his back as his egg

disintigrates around him, struggling to his feet, shaking his head, waggling his

wings. He staggers forward - the wrong way. He warbles morosely, until he

turns tail-about. There! Somewhere there! Blinking his red-whirling eyes, he

resumes forward progress.

On the sands, "Oh, Ci- uh, Susse!" Ainsley shouts over the head in front of her

stumbling over the girl's new name. And then the blue finds Caleb, and

similarly, she shouts out, "Caleb! I mean… What did he say his new name was,?"

she asks the girl standing beside her, not quite hearing from way over here.

On the sands, Quin's calculating regard cants toward the blue, her eye's whites

immediately visible as she approximates the distance betwixt them. "Ser, Cal -

/blue/," she warns, extending her free hand to indicate his presence. "At least

it's a male." More estrogen in this trio would be dangerous.

On the sands, Not another pair? Shen calls out: "Well done Caleb. He's Weaver

Folk y'know." She adds to Cori proudly."Oh look, another blue, I bet Ainsley's

pleased." Harper Blue and all.

Janthro wiggles a bit, but keeps his eyes intent, roundly so, on the action

below. His little brown leans into his neck, watching, too.

On the sands, "Caleb!" Seria cries out as the blue takes the boy from beside

her. "Oh /Quin/, Caleb Impressed!" she grins suddenly, tightening her hold on

Quin's hand as she lets Caleb's go.

On the sands, Cisusse has forgotten Akeli. Long forgotten. Delioth is in her

amber eyes now, and those long fingers move to curl along the green's head.

They walk, so slowly, so silently to where Jules has directed. Cisusse is

finally speechless.

Rhia peers at Fiora curiously. "Really? /We/ looked like /that/?" Something like

a playful horrifed expression crosses her face. "Oh dearie me. Did you bring

anything to drink, by and by?"

S'fina sees this one and smiles, this time not clapping or cheering but smiling

content to herself, as if seeing the impression from this angle does not change

the feeling that she herself knows is being felt by people down there. Snapping

out of it slightly she leans forward to look along the rown to Fiora, N'ikos and

then accross to Rhia. her eyes dancing with the effect. her eyes stop on Rhia

and she asks. "where we that worried looking?"

On the sands, Ralsin carefully edges around his twin, as a passing dragonet

ventures a little too close, before replying. "Good odds? Uhm. Lots of marks,

right." A small shake of his head, and Ralsin's concentrating on other things.

Like keeping himself clothed. Fingers grip his twin's tightly, and he shuffled

his feet again.

On the sands, Caleb is thusly knocked over, as he drags himself up onto his

seat, "Jeresath! Stop that!" His sand-covered bottom is well overheated, and he

pulls h imself up to his feet. "Uh … hm?" The din of the sands around him is

masked largely by the thumping of his heart. "I … it … " He takes a moment

to collect his head. "S'posed to go over there right?" He points off to the

side.

On the sands, Wicked Stepmother Egg seems to swell, to expand with almost

malevolent power. It lies there, nearly still but for the sense of resonance,

vibration almost below the ability to perceive. And then, with the suddenness of

a thunderclap, it is destroyed, shattered beyond recognition, and in its place,

as though it were a transformation, stands a dragonet of moonshine and shadow.

Changeable Sky-Green Dragonet

Faint grey-green muffles bones' delicate delineation in deceptive plainness, but

closer observation reveals more than a touch of glamour, concealed though it may

be from hasty eyes. Chancy moon-pale mackerel spots wax and wane along the

dragonet's flanks, playing into sunstreaked arabesques and flares in the bluish

luminosity of her wings, their fairweather sheen so much at odds with her hide's

twilight. A certain regal fairness shapes the wedge of her head, and a royal

poise holds tail's carriage and neck's curving posture; and, in just the right

light, moonshadows and sunspots dapple her muzzle and headknobs in a sudden

crowning blaze of splendor, revealing her a lady indeed.

On the sands, Alezan frowns, unsure of what is going on. "What's this about

Caleb?" He must not have been listening.

On the sands, Selya finds no solace, and nothing interesting, in the slack-faced

boy. She wanders aimlessly among the candidates, always keeping one or two of

them between herself and the eggs and hatching dragonets. And then, she's sort

of in the back again. And even though she has 13 turns, and even though the

cavern is full to brimming with people, she sucks her thumb. Because she can.

On the sands, Akeli brings her hands up front, wringing just the same. She looks

out ahead of her at the newest blue's purplish feet, and then draws her gaze

down to her own.

On the sands, Worn Dancing Slippers Egg kicks a little, step-dancing now.

Jittering, skittering. Jigging and jogging. The ball is about to begin.

On the sands, Ainsley coulnd't be any less pleased actually. "Oh, it looks like

it's coming this way," she stammers out, pointing at one of the blue hatchlings

on the Sands. She almost loses her cool demeanor and huddles behind one of her

peers, but doesn't. Quite. A few steps are taken in the backwards direction.

"Ominous, ominous, but!" Sabrielle gleams as he Impresses. "But chosen. Good for

the boy. Or bad. Depends on whether you're him or not." She makes various

surprised faces as blue and bronze tumble out, as green Impresses, and so forth.

"Like gems, those things. Or fruit."

S'fina suddenly grabs Rhias arm. still awaiting her answer she just has to

add. "another green!!!" to her thoughts.

You say, "Except that they're ugly."

On the sands, "Caleb!" It's a half hearted roar, this time — Selvren's much

more interested in trying to coerce the bronze by staring at him. But it's not

any ol' stare. It's a stare that almost has his eyes crossed. "Yeah, they

weres great odds. I can't wait — I've got a great plan for what we can do wtih

the marks. We'll increase them, ten fold." Voice is almost absent — most of

his attention is going into that amazing, cross-eyed stare.

On the sands, Quin howls: "Ouch! Looser Seri, let go!" Although sharing her

peer's excitement, she cherishes her circulation, and more so, her hand;

excitement, adrenaline, however abate this worry as she joins the shrieking:

"/Caleb!/"

Menwy gives a saucy look to Spurs, hand propped on her hip. "Oh, be quiet you

silly sour fold fool."

Tyrrlin smiles to herself. Green.

On the sands, Gentle Porphyrion-Blue Dragonet steps forward again, his head

turning this way and that. He croons urgently, desperate to find his One before

Something Bad happens. He regards the white-robes people in front. Somewhere

there, he's sure! He moves forwards on unsteady feet.

On the sands, Maradydd doesn't see Caleb through the crush of candidates

suddenly coming to her side of the sands. It's so hard to keep track of

everything, but at least the seaholder girl seems to have been shunted off for

the time being, leaving the harper-candidate free to dodge and dip once more.

Assuming she can ever get out of this mob…

Klari seems to be trapped in a daze, gazing upon the sands at all that is

happening, and happening fast. Too much is racing through her mind but she's

mainly happy, not noticing the colors of the dragons…. More on who the dragons

are going to.

On the sands, Shen dances again, not bothering to announce the arrival of the

green, after all, her feet are hot. "Don't worry, Ainsley," And Shen shuffles

towards the Harper girl, "Hatchlings don't eat people, it's just the eggs,

remember?"

On the sands, "Jeresath!" Seria cries, this time, then chants, "Caleb and

Jeresath. Oh, Caleb and Jeresath!" she loosens her grip on Quin's hand,

offering, meekly, "Sorry, Quin." but excitement sparkles in dark eyes, and she

doesn't let go of Quin's hand

On the sands, Alezan takes up a slow rumba rhythm, trying not to let the Sands'

heat get through to him, and shakes his head, taking note of the new green to

emerge.

On the sands, Sculpted Leviathan-Bronze Dragonet is intrigued by that flash of

leg, however unintentionally. But, that's not the true test. Lifting head once

more, he sniffs at the air. Perfect! He moves forward once more, decidedly,

and plants himself in front of Ralsin.

"Tush! Ugly is as ugly does, and it's simply a matter of the beholder's eye."

Cook chides the healer-boy. "Things are beautiful depending on their

surroundings, most of the time. Eat tubers with any kind of gourd…blegh. But

tubers and herdbeast! Yum."

On the sands, Coriana gasps as her favorite egg hatches and she smiles towards

Shen. "Oh, look. Another green!" She giggles and watches Alezan curiously for a

moment before looking up at her friends in the galleries. Another smile plays

across her lips as she glances back at the dragonets still on the sands, as

well as the eggs.

On the sands, Sculpted Leviathan-Bronze Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon

Ralsin.

Janthro cries, "Oh, /Ralsin/!"

On the sands, Dragonets seem to be all around now, and it's a blue burst from a

yellow-and-red egg that discovers a youngster at the edge of the crowd and

quietly makes her his own.

On the sands, Changeable Sky-Green Dragonet shakes its head as if it was very

confused. The green holds its wing up and looks at it as if it were disgusted.

It seems like the most arrogant and refined hatchling on the sands. It looks

down at the sand and gives out a cry of disgust. It slowly makes its way to its

feet.

On the sands, Daughters of the Air Egg rocks gently, still, gentle like a calm

lake, gentle like the fins of dolphins playing deep underwater.

Rhia has Confidence(tm). It's the only way to survive when you've got a lifemate

named Ahzraelth. "Oh, I'm sure that we looked fine," she says, the careless

cheerfulness back in her voice. "Really. Right?"

On the sands, The World Is Too Large Egg turns once more, making it's vision of

night twist.

On the sands, Miafah trots closer, but not too close, to the new pair. Oh,

that's a very big smile, isn't it, on her face? "C'leb, Jeresath,

congradulations. If you'll just make your way over here…" She indicates the

place where the other new pairs stand.

Sabrielle looks at the lad who catches Janthro's yell, and offers a murmured

congratulations. "Fine-looking bronze," quoth the peanut gallery.

On the sands, Alezan inhales deeply. Ralsin? "Ralsin? Wow…I would never

have thought," he mutters partly to himself, and partly to anyone who is close

enough to listen,.

On the sands, Another bet lost: "Seria," Quin groans, her reputation thinning,

"that dark one hatched a green; supposed to be a brown." Eyeing the newly

hatched green, she shifts so that her weight resides on one foot while the other

crosses behind her ankle; all mass rested on Seria, she mentions: "Pa's gonna

get me on this.."

On the sands, "Ralsin—I mean, R'sin! Well done!" Shen catcalls across the

Sands, shuffling back to Cori. Cori=Cool. "Cori, Ralsi just Impressed!" And

Shen's delighted? "Blondy, you still haven't Impressed!" She calls across to

Brat, who shuffles and mumbles something.

On the sands, "Hey, I bet it would be a green!" Seria gleefully exclaims, "I

won!" it must be the first bet she's won in her life, "Now if only mine would

hatch a blue, and I'd have that wine." at least she won't have to clean the

socks out from under Quin's cot.

Fiora is slow.Understandably so considering current events. Yet she silently

holds out an arm with a skin of her best Mango clutched in the hand at the end.

"Wait!" She pulls the stopper and takes a long pull of her own. Then it's thrust

back out. "Here." Greenrider eyes are suspiciously bright.

Janthro collapses back into himself, shoulders drawn in and fingers plucking at

his tunic's hem. "Have to tell Arda," he mumbles. Fret, fret. A headshake.

"That's his brother next to him, Sabrielle. They're fostered here, with Arien

down over there. And … R'sin. I'll have to remember."

On the sands, Ralsin blinks slowly, fingers loosing themselves from Selvren's as

the boy stands alone a moment. Another blink, and he speaks, tone free for once

of stutter. "Sparneth? I'm the…." A pause, and he steps forward, to shout the

name to those around him. "His name is Sparneth!

On the sands, Jules has Susse and Delioth settled off to the side and is

readying for the next pair. Ralsin, R'sin now. "R'sin? Sparneth is it? Well now.

Come on over here then.", she says in a soft voice appropriate for those newly-

born.

On the sands, Worn Dancing Slippers Egg does a spontaneous arabesque as a clawed

foot breaks through its satin casing.

On the sands, Selvren gapes — "Ralsin? Ralsin?" Voice is almost horse -

Selvren's hand tightens, for a moment, on his twin's hand as if he doesn't want

to let him go. "But —" Voice is almost lost, without the confidence it

usually has — but malachite eyes take one look at Ralsin's — or R'sin — face

and the boy steps back, arms falling losely to his sides. He manages to build

up some enthusiasm: "Congratulations!"

On the sands, Worn Dancing Slippers Egg crumbles, laurel branches leading the

way for the secrets to come to light. Shard after slipper-shard tumbles away,

enchantments broken, until the hidden hero strides forth to claim his prize.

Gossamer Mist-Blue Dragonet

Robin's egg blue creeps up the dragonet's limber legs from ample paws and

softens to a pale mist washing across his otherwise delicate wisp of a frame.

Near-white wings shimmer as if kissed by early-morning mountain dew, the

gossamer wingsails supported by thin fingerbones of vibrant, iris blue. No lofty

arch graces his short neck, instead that triangular head sits in cock-eyed

splendor, headknobs gleaming with that robin's egg shade returning in spinner-

web stripes.

On the sands, Akeli is aware of what's going on around her, just not so

responsive. Rather than add her voice to all the cheering, she maintains an

exterior calm, the better to keep from fraying altogether.

On the sands, Gentle Porphyrion-Blue Dragonet stops a moment, sniffing the air.

His eyes narrow as he concentrates. There! There's his One! Somehow he just

knows… he moves forward with more confidence now, his lithe form still gawky

and clumsy. He heads towards a mound of white topped with brown, who is *sure*

is his One!

On the sands, Alezan sighs, a small tear in his eye. Emotionality getting to

him again? Not likely. He watches his egg, waiting to see if it hatches, still

keeping up the rumba.

On the sands, The World Is Too Large Egg lets its turning fade as the shaking

starts. Then stops. Then starts.

On the sands, Changeable Sky-Green Dragonet seems to scan the candidates for a

moment. She slowly stumbles towards them, crying a crazy trumpet of disgust at

all of the sand. She trips for a moment and then looks up.

N'ikos finds his hands starting to sting, but he keeps up an unstoppable round

of applause almost unconcsiously. Eyes keep trying to search out his one friend

on the sands and failing…too many people crowded together.

On the sands, Caleb allows himself to be led by Mia. "O … over here?" He

points towards the small group of pairs, still dwarfed by the mass of Candidates

about the sands. Over he walks, shakily. It doesn't help that his ankles are

being attacked by still new feet of dragonet, tipped with sharp pointies. He

joins the group at the side.

On the sands, Cisusse makes it to her knees in the warm Sand, not complaining

nor whining about the conditions. Every so often she turns to look into the

whirling eyes of Delioth, who fans her wings and fusses and claws at the sand.

Is she really aware of what else is going on?

On the sands, Ralsin! Maradydd was near enough to see that match, but there's no

time for another whistle. The candidates around her bump and jostle for

position, and she's left to jostle back in a last-ditch attempt to break free

before she's trampled into the sands. Sandie candie, anyone?

On the sands, Coriana giggles and squeezes Shen's hand. "Yeah, I'm sure she's

noticed Shen. Notice how red she's turning?" She giggles and nods a congrats to

the new pair, before sqeezing Alezan's hand lightly. "Look, another blue!" She

grins and watches the hatchlings for a moment before just gazing down at the

sand in front of her.

On the sands, Alezan winces, seeing the green trip over. "Oh, the poor thing.

How embarrassing for her."

On the sands, Arien stays by Talsi — and her sisal-and-silver — and Vinnie and

her gold, but she cranes a look 'round anyway, and her headshake's more wry than

anything.

On the sands, Akeli catches her breath — which is to say she doesn't let it go,

now that it's caught. The whole of her is stock still. If she doesn't move,

maybe she won't get mauled.

On the sands, Gossamer Mist-Blue Dragonet isn't half as graceful now that he has

legs. They're clumsy things, legs. Hardly good for anything when you have

wings, even though those wings don't work yet. He searches the sands for a

dance partner, someone who's willing to reverse the usual gentleman-lady

relationship and lead a little. Where is she?

"Brother?" Sabri nods, sees Selvren, nods some more. "Arien must be proud, then,

and the brother certainly looks pleased. Bronze…nice one there. Who's Arda?"

On the sands, Daughters of the Air Egg seems to become impatient, the tiny

wavecrests becoming more insistent, the gentle rocking motion becoming more

frenzied and tumultuous.

On the sands, "Oh /look/, Quin, another blue!" Seria exclaims, eyeing the newly

hatched blue with unhidden admiration. "He's /gorgeous/." she barely dares

breath. "And the green. She's goregous too." but her eyes are on the blue.

On the sands, Jules is busy handing out the buckets of pre-prepared meat gobbets

to the impressed pairs. Cautioning them she says, "Careful now, not all at once.

Make them chew." She pats Delioth on the head with the impunity allowed one of

her ilk and says crooning, "We know you're hungry."

On the sands, The green's disgruntled trumpet is enough to make Quin at once

release Seria's hand and clamp both hands to her head. "Must she be so /loud/,"

she mutters despite the fact that her inquisitive gaze remains upon her;

belatedly, however, that nigh-dark gaze reels toward Ralsin: "R'sin? —

Congrats!"

Janthro answers, "My sister. One of them; Vinnie's another one, down there,

too." The whole fardling family, all simmering in the crucible, and the brother

sitting outside, frowning with his lower lip between his teeth. "…He'll be

happy," he finally says, firm about it. "I'll just tell her that, but I /hope/

his brother takes, too, so they won't have to be apart for long."

On the sands, "Cori, look look, lovely aren't they?" Shen would want her

workbook to note all the different shades, but pooey Talisen said they couldn't

have stuff. "'Susse, don't forget me, will you?" Shen's worried now, after all,

people can't forget her.

On the sands, Gossamer Mist-Blue Dragonet has an instinctual sense that this is

the moment in which The Narrator would write, 'And then their eyes met across

the dance floor.' He begins to drag himself in syncopated rhythm toward the

perfect partner.

On the sands, Changeable Sky-Green Dragonet sighs and looks around her. As she

gets up onto her feet, she looks around a bit more. She begins inspecting the

ranks around him. She begins walking around trying to get the sand out of her

claws. Then she finds the /one/. The sable haired one, with the near black-as-

night eyes. She trumpets again.

On the sands, Selya won't impress. She knows it for sure. And she's comfortable

with that. She's got a career waiting for her, a home, a family. Waiting, and

waiting, and waiting.

Valyn calms a bit as others impress, even allowing his before wringing hands to

now clap for the impressions. He's not being very tactful or Harperly about

this, but he never was in the frist place so why start now?

On the sands, R'sin does cast a glance to his twin, grin unremoveable, something

murmured quietly, before he retreats to the edge of the sands, one hand upon his

lifemate's hide as they head over to join Jules and co.

On the sands, Gentle Porphyrion-Blue Dragonet approaches his One - brown on

white! Yes! Just right! Brown on Blue is *so* right! He nuzzles right up to

Akeli, turning his whirling red eyes onto her brown ones.

On the sands, Selvren moves back from Ralsin — eyes still stay on the newly

matched pair, though, as his arms cross. Smile is firmly forged onto his face,

but it melts into a set expression as he turns towards the sands. "I knew he

would. I told them." As if anchorless he begins to stray towards another

white-robed candidate. "Hot, isn't it?"

On the sands, "Hey!" Seria protests, "Gimme your hand back!" she makes a grab

for Quin's lost hand, regaining it to rest in her tight grip. "Quin—Quin? Is

she looking at you?" is asked, breathlessly, quietly, eyes resting momentarily

on that green.

On the sands, "It's hot out here," Ainsley states, pulling up that loose strpap

on her robe. Shifting, from foot to foot and then back again, Ainsley stettles

her gaze on all of the waiting Candidates. There aren't many lefts. And she's

still one of them.

N'ikos looks towards the wineskin questioningly, asking a almost tense, "Mind if

I have a sip?" He's getting nervous now… .

On the sands, Miafah makes sure C'leb and Jeresath are settled with some meat to

abate the hunger, and turns back to watch for new Impressions. She catches her

breath in anticipation, watching a blue near Akeli.

On the sands, "Cori! Akeli! Blue!" Alezan loses his powers of eloquent

speech, and decides to stay silent for the moment.

On the sands, Gossamer Mist-Blue Dragonet approaches a pair of girls whose

attentions seem fixed on other things. Not that he's greedy. He doesn't want

the pair. He just wants one. The One. Eye contact. Very important to

establish eye contact between partners at the start of the dance.

On the sands, The World Is Too Large Egg begins to rock once more with a subtle

shudder that becomes a more purposeful shaking. As the cracks widen along its

surface, movement can be seen inside until the shell crumbles completely. From

within the circle of wreckage, a wet bronze dragonet slowly uncurls his thin

wings from around his body—the last protection he has from the outside world-

and takes one hesitant step forward.

Timid Tumultuous Bronze Dragonet

The gleam of light is lost on the matte finish of bronze dragonhide, stretched

over a frame of lean muscle. Erratic markings, the calling card of some mad

painter, begin at prominent eye ridges and dance upon his back, only to end in a

streaking stream of dark gray and black over his slender tail. A shadow of

smoky patches down his sides emphasize the ready nature of his body, masking the

power of his wide wings, with sails decorated in dark swirls of flame's hottest

blue.

On the sands, "Oh look, Akeli's being snuggled up to!" Shen stands on one leg,

for elegance, and clings to Cori's hand desperately. "Look!" Shen gazes around

again. Fascinating.

On the sands, Quin maintains that hands-to-ears grip despite the green's

nearness, an expeditious smirk given toward Seria as she announces, "They're

approaching." Quickly. And, upon demand, she relinquishing one — /one/ —

hand for Seria to grasp. "Just don't squeeze to hard, I need to write with that

one."

Fiora looks around at the quiet question. "Unless you want me to drink it all

and fall off Pani on the way back you ought to!" She shifts it closer to the

young bronzer.

Rhia is openly envious of Fiora's skin of whatever it is. "Oooooo…. Wine or

juice? All I've got is a tuber." Rue laces her tone at the last statement, and

the hapless tuber gets a look.

On the sands, Jules nods across the short distance between her and Miafah. Head

is tossed in the newest pair's direction. "Get them, will ya?"

Klari mumbles something about taking a lot of Enlanders still slightly smiling

and whipes a tear as it falls, she wasn't /this/ emotional at the last hatching

she went to.

Sabrielle bobs her head, parakeet-style, but with a bit more comprehension. "Of

course! Yes. They seem a close-knit pair…and the other one looks nice enough

that he may Impress…" She looks at the dragonets. "That other bronze…" A

flail towards Timid Tumultuous. "He looks neat. And the green…" Changeable

Sky, that is.

N'ikos blinks in a bit of surprise at Fiora, but complies, hefting the skin up

for a larger than intended swallow. "Thanks…I needed that."

On the sands, "I won't." Seria promises, turning in time to look at that blue

dragonet. That /blue/ one, right /there/. Eyes are riveted to his blue hide, not

even a glance is spared for the green that is so close.

On the sands, Gentle Porphyrion-Blue Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Akeli.

On the sands, Coriana smiles happily as more impressions are made, and she nods

to both Alezan and Shen. "Yep, blue. I'm looking Shen!" She giggles happily and

glances around at the rest of the candidates before noticing the bronze. "Oh,

look. Another bronze!" She grins and sqeezes Alezan and Shen's hands a little

harder.

On the sands, Zephre clutches the small blue seashell around her neck as she

watches, noting with shining eyes the new-made pairs as they discover their joy

together.

On the sands, Oh, but Selya /wants/ to impress. She just can't get close enough.

They're so /big/. Bigger than a runner. Bigger than her. She's so small. She'll

wait. Until /she/ is bigger. And maybe doesn't suck her thumb anymore.

On the sands, Maradydd stumbles free of the human merry-go-round and stops to

catch her breath. Her dusk-dark eyes take in the scatter of shards, the

dwindling number of whiterobes, herself included. Ah, but at least her robe's

stopped steaming! Well, nearly.

On the sands, Akeli lets her breath go at last, and in that passing rush is the

soft sound of her lifemate's name: "Amoneth."

Janthro puffs a breath. "Bronze. Go to Selvren, bronze. Go t'his brother,

silly critter. —Neat? Y'think. He's all patchy. Don't know." Another

frown, this one canted in thought, not worry. "That green /is/ a looker, as my

fosterer'd say. And — 'Keli got a blue!"

Rhia is next and Fiora offers the damp and sweating skin in place of the warm

and probably grubby tuber.

On the sands, Gossamer Mist-Blue Dragonet looks up into Seria's eyes. May I

have this dance?

On the sands, Miafah nods affirmatively to Jules. She closes the distance

between her and Akeli, "Amoneth, is it? Would you two like to come get some

food?"

On the sands, Gossamer Mist-Blue Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Seria.

On the sands, Changeable Sky-Green Dragonet begins slowly heading over into the

sable-haired one's direction. She is taking it slow but it is intent on the

/one/.

S'fina suddenly leans forward. Clapping for the new Impressees (if there is

such a word) as she watches another impress she ohs.. turning to Rhia she

suddenly asks. "One close to Quin!! or am i imaganing it" her smiles shows as

she points quickly to the lady she means, adn with that action her eyes are

drawon back to the sands and she makes the expression of 'oh' as she watches

another impress and a name called.

On the sands, Blink and you miss another impression. Selvren's shouted

congratulations is belated, but accompanied by a wave of his hand. "Look, the

egg is hatching — and it's bronze. Ral, do you think —" Waitasecond. No

Ral. Shoulders straighten, then, as the young man almost seems to draw himself

up. "Well, only the best— maybe— Oh, Seria!" Young man is distracted again.

On the sands, It has been long enough.

On the sands, Daughters of the Air Egg rocks and sways, swells building at the

storm's height. And then, like the cresting of a blood-washed wave, like the

bursting of clouds, it shatters in a thundercrack of knife-edged shards and

unveils a pearl-pale dragonet.

Rose-Leaf Princess Green Dragonet

Ocean-born seems this pearl-pale dragonet — all translucent green from her

blunted eyeridges to the dainty turquoise eddies around her short tail. Pale

verdance fades into her sleek underside, shading into seafoam, and coats her

belly in frothy spindrifts that trail up the curve of her slender throat. The

random sparkle of reflected starlight on the ocean's surface and the shimmering

and vast expanses of the sea: these are her glass-embossed wings. Her eyes

hold the same glitter deep within: larger than most, deeper than most, brighter

than most, they are the quietness of a private cove, with undercurrents of great

depth and turbulence.

Janthro then quite overlaps himself with excitement, though he falls short of

tugging on his cook companion. "And, and Seria! See, my friend, the one I

pointed to? She … oh, Seria. She did it, she did it."

On the sands, The calling out of cangratulations is given up for the moment as

Ainsley loses track. Hey where did that girl go… oh, sheImpressed

too.Glancing around, she notices that several of her bunkmates are also missing.

They're now off to the side, stuffing their hatchlings. And her eyes turn back

just in time to catch Serisa's Impression. "Oh, Seria, congrats!"

On the sands, Alezan gasps, seeing the Daughters Egg hatch. "Oh, it's hatched!

It's a green!"

On the sands, "Etryth, oh Etryth!" Seria cries, releasing Quin's hand to fall,

sobbing to her knees. Arms wrap themselves around his neck and she burries her

face there, as well, tears running freely from her eyes to his hide.

Tyrrlin's eyes follow the newest green, tears forming. "Oh, she's a darling!"

On the sands, Akeli scoots off to where she's supposed to go, and Amoneth too,

not knowing quite how it is that they're getting there, but just getting there.

On the sands, "Se-r-/ia/!" shocked, Quin shrieks and instantly clasps both hands

to her lips; her friend, her comrade — /impressed/. "You impressed!" she makes

note of the obvious albeit muffled against the cheering about her; that green,

however, is noted however, that slow, gradual progress a continuous figure amid

the corner of her dark gaze. Maybe if she stepped behind Seria.

On the sands, "Seri!" Oh rats, another friend eaten, oh well. Shen blows a kiss

to Seria, before returning her attention to Cori. "Etryth and Seria. Truly

beautiful." She shifts away from Cori, a little independence needed.

On the sands, Changeable Sky-Green Dragonet launches into a run towards the

sable-haired one intently. Oops! She manages to trip into the sands right at the

ebony eyed's feet. The dragonet looks up to her lifemate's head with this

distinct grin on her face. She has found the /one/. She nuzzles into Quin's

legs.

On the sands, Changeable Sky-Green Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Quin.

On the sands, Timid Tumultuous Bronze Dragonet takes one more step forward,

crunching through some more of his egg. With a squawk, he stumbles away from

the shards, and the unpleasant feeling they created. Shaking slightly from the

whole ordeal, he gradually turns his attention to the other parts of his

surroundings.

On the sands, Miafah hangs back a moment, giving Seria time to calm. Then, she

takes a slow step or two and a smile, "Seria, Etryth… when you're ready, I'll

bet he's hungry."

On the sands, Coriana giggles and nods to Alezan. "Yep. It hatched. Yep. It's

green." She grins and can't really say more, just kinda stares around at

everyone on the sands, and the hatchlings. She nods in agreement with Shen and

then grins over at Quin. "Oh! Congrats Quin!" She isn't sure if she can be

heard, but hey.

On the sands, Vinnie's thumps Vyath's claw as if they were an old married couple

watching the weddings of their grandchildren. Gosh, Vinnie's tearing up. How

embarrassing. She swipes at her face with the heel of her hand.

On the sands, Maradydd is here, but stumbles again, and this time there's no

reason, except that she's muddled-up, and beginning to be a little afraid again.

Which way should she go?

Janthro, lacking his companion as Sabrielle moves off, hunches again and fights

a grin that doesn't, quite, reach his eyes. His fingers keep plucking.

On the sands, Rose-Leaf Princess Green Dragonet is freed, and oh, there's so

much to see. The sands are so pretty and sparkly. And all the dragons, up

high… she can see them, she wants to see them closer. And all the people….

all the people. Oh, yes. There is a person here. A person for her. Where is her

person?

N'ikos watches as the numbers dwindle, worry flitting non-stop across his face

despite the wine. This is not working like it was supposed to.

Brianna walks in.

On the sands, Seria stands, tears still falling down her face, her hand placed

possesively on Etryth's blue neck. She smiles at Miafah, "He is, he's /very/

hungry." she distractedly follows Miafah.

On the sands, Alezan mutters to himself, the occasional word escaping to be

heard. "Oh, she's beautiful," he says, partly to Cori.

Brell follows one of the staircases up.

On the sands, There's a shuffle in the Sands between a Farmcraft lad and a young

lady from the Smithcraft, as they part way before a brown dragonet aiming at a

weyrboy just behind them. There's no hiding now.

On the sands, Shendti resumes a slightly tired dance, she's sweaty, she's not

amused, and unlike the little green, she isn't interested in the 'sparkly' hot

sands. "Oooh, who next?" That's the question really, and Candidates are

examined, as Shen considers each of them carefully.

On the sands, What would customarily disgust the dark-skinned candidate suddenly

intrigues her; lures her with the potency she's never known. Hastily dropped to

both knees, Quin cradles that jade head amid her palms, a fond, adoring smile

consuming her expression and the simplistic: "Ulanith!"

On the sands, The Timid Bronze is watched with a faint hint of puzzlement as

Selvren's attention floats back after paying due congratulations to Quin.

"What's he shaking for? He's a bronze!" Nose wrinkles as the boy thoughtfully

begins to pick at a pimple. "It must be the heat. It is pretty hot out here."

Bealah walks in.

Valyn looks almost ecstatic. Numbers dwindling, few dragons and fewer

candidates mean his cousin may be saved from all this. If he had the wine they

have up there, he would be drinking in sheer contentment.

Klari continues watching Coriana with a tear flowing every now and then. She'd

love for Coriana to impress, she's her best friend… But she'd miss her dearly.

Oh she'll cry no matter what happens! Both happy and sad tears. "D… Do you

think Cori will impress?" is said in a glance to S'fina.

On the sands, Coriana nods and smiles at Alezan. "She is, isn't she." Cori looks

thoughtfuly at the green, then Alezan, but says nothing else and sqeezes Shen's

hand a little. Cori sighs and closes her eyes for a moment before opening them

and smiling over at Quin and Ulanith.

On the sands, Alezan nods in agreement to Selvren's comment. Yes…Hot. He

casts his gaze over to the new pairs, then back to the green, snuffling around

on the Sands.

On the sands, Miafah grabs up a bucket of the prepared meat pieces, leaving it

for Etryth with a "Not too quickly" reminder to Seria. She turns back, glancing

from Quin to Jules, "You got her?"

On the sands, Ainsley is feeling distinctly… left out, to say the least.

Shednti is spotted and duly walked up to. "I told you the eggs wouldn't eat

us," she says quietly. Other than that, she's silent. She just stands there,

watching dragonest go tumbling and stumbling by towards their lifemates.

On the sands, Jules motions for Quin and Ulanith to follow. "This way you two,

there's food a-plenty over here."

Liessa goes home.

On the sands, "Ulanith…& Quin!" Shen withdraws her hand to wipe it on her

robe. "It's so /hot/." Candidate whines, jumping up and down, which only makes

her sweat harder. "Still, it's fun." Who next?

On the sands, Cisusse and Delioth sloppily work at their shared task, calmly.

They're making a mess, yes, but doing it together, lost in their own world.

On the sands, Seria nods to Miafah, but her eyes are for her lifemate only. She

spares enough time to grin at Quin, and to wave her over—just to be sure they

get next to eachother. Etryth is fed peices of meat, one at a time, and no,

/not/ too quickly.

S'fina blinks and leans back, not really taking her eyes away from the scene

below. A half shrug and a wiggle of her hand shows that she honestly does not

know. A smile is then sent to Klair as she crosses her fingers for her friends

still out there.

On the sands, Timid Tumultuous Bronze Dragonet turns his head, letting his

multi-faceted eyes take in this..rather warm new world. As he is jostled from

behind by a blue clutchmate though, he remembers once more that he too must

move, and search, and find. He takes a few more steps forward, walking stiffly

and slowly.

Calandra follows one of the staircases up.

Mardy's relatives mostly look striken and a bit worried, though Spurs is just as

sour as before. Llamri stands in stony seriousness a slight distance away and

watching her daughter's every move.

On the sands, Quin is, for once in life, besotted by something other than

gambling and wine; consumed by Ulanith's famished state, a complacent, "We'll

get you food. Just wait," is given as they're beckoned to the side by Jules.

"Come on, you'll get your nails cleaned later," she promises and that seems to

do the trick.

On the sands, Maradydd starts forward. The others are over there, and she ought

to be over there with them. Even if they do try to trample her again. She's

beginning not to care about all that.

Janthro hunches a little bit more forward, to see.

On the sands, Alezan remembers to breathe, as he seems to have forgotten. "Is

it hot, or is it just me?" The understated question seems rather odd, coming

from him. He blinks, clearing his suddenly blurred vision.

On the sands, Rose-Leaf Princess Green Dragonet opens her eyes wide, blinking

quickly, focussing. There's something she must do. Someone she must find. But

first, she has to make sure all her clutch-siblings are taken care of. Her

brother bronze? Does he need help? She slides out of the egg remains, scanning

with slowly swirling eyes. For her sibings. For her person.

Fiora takes mercy on a nervous face topping harper blue. She leans forwards and

down, bracing her hand on a blue rider from Igen and nudges Valyn. "Wine? It

helps.", she suggests.

On the sands, Hands flicker, almost impatiently, by Selvren's side as he

observes the bronze. "It let itself be jostled by a blue." It's a mere

statement of fact. "What? Corse it's hot out here, Alezen. In fact, I'd be

almost to melting point, excepting a man like me can put up with any amount of

heat." Oh yeah.

On the sands, Coriana giggles and shakes her head. "No, it's not just you. I'm

burning up." She switches feet and starts to stand on her left one fore a moment

before wincing and jumping up and down slighly. "/Very/ hot." She sighs and

looks towards the galleries again before looking back down at the sands.

Valyn leans upwards, taking the skin with obvious gratefulness. "Thanks… "

Throwing his head back, he downs an all too quick swallow before handing it over

the Igen blue rider back to its owner. "That was very helpful," he calls back,

a smile tilting upwards.

On the sands, Man? Shen snorts at that, still hoppin' frantically. "Hot, en't it

Cori?" Shen shuffles off a little. No body heat, better that way. "Look at all

the people in the galleries." Look at some of the clothes they're wearing.

On the sands, Timid Tumultuous Bronze Dragonet continues to walk

rather..sedately, looking to and fro without seeming to notice anything in

particular. Except that it's very crowded. He almost moves beyond one

candidate when a glimpse of green catches his gaze, and he pauses for a second

look. My..how..decisive-looking.

Fiora winks. This -is- Fiora we're talking about. "No problem. I've more after

the hatching." She remembers this face from somewhere.

Calandra leans forward to peer down at the little figures on the Sands. She

spotted Shendti before, but now she's lost her again in the crowd. "Did you see

anything, Ulyn? I note young Caleb Impressed." The elderly man beside her just

grumbles and picks at the collar of his Hatching Day best.

On the sands, Miafah thanks Faranth for her lovely boots, hearing the

candidates' chatter. She sweeps her eyes across the whole scene on the Sands,

checking to see that there's nothing to be done just now.

On the sands, Aine shifts her feet on the sands. Egg shards everywhere. Happy

pairs off in the corner with the Weyrlingmasters. Not many Hatchlings left.

Remaining Candidates standing around. She sighs.

N'ikos is now the one who looks petrified. So few dragonets and only one

Maradydd. He closes his eyes, trying to will the one's left towards the Harper

turned Candidate.

On the sands, Alezan steps forward a pace, peering intently at the bronze, then

steps back. He'll definitely be a strong, handsome dragon when he grows to

maturity. Yep.

Janthro breathes, "Come on…."

Rhia absentmindedly crosses her fingers. "Wonder if Alezan'll Impress," she

notes softly, full attention upon the green on the sands. "He should, at any

rate. And Mardy."

On the sands, Hot? duh. Ainsley rolls her eyes and grins at Alezan, but then

she turns back, her face returned to the expression of hope. There's still some

dragonets. Still room for her, surely. The hatchlings, once avoided are now

sought out with her green-flecked brown eyes.

Valyn winks back in usual Valyn-repoire. "I could certainly use some more

later," he replies smilingly, knowing he's met this person somewhere before.

On the sands, Coriana yawns and switches feet again, nodding to Shen. "Yep. It's

hot alright." She sighs and watches the last couple of hatchlings before

glancing from Alezan to Shen.

Shava goes home.

On the sands, Cisusse pauses the frantic eating pace of her lifemate, her hand

resting between the curve of Delioth's shoulder and wing. Her attention is

taken to the middle of the Sands, and the prowling dragonets, Impressed

weyrlings, and impatient Candidates.

On the sands, Talisen prowls around in between the newly Impressed pairs, skirts

caught up in one hand, the other planted firmly on her hip. A smile plays

softly over her face; this is good, this is very good indeed.

Fiora finds herself growing warmer than even the crowded state of the galleries

and the sands call for. Eyes turning speculative she takes a pull off that wine

herself. "Here.", she passes it to N'ikos.

On the sands, One foot is picked up and inspected, before Shen relays to

Ainsley: "My flip flops are frying." Hopping is resumed in earnest now,

interspersed with the occasional skip. "Why can't dragons like the cold?"

Utterly blase, Shen throws a glance back towards the bronze and green, and of

course, any remaining eggs.

Klari's nerves are on edge, her eyes still fixed on the sands. She crosses her

legs and begins to bite her nails but glances down. Klari, biteing her nails? Oh

she stopped, "I shouldn't be one of the nervous ones," is said rather low but

loud enough. No harm done, attention back to the sands now. Who's going to

impress?

Corotona blinks in warbling sweetly from ::between::!

On the sands, Zephre waits with all the rest, fingers worrying the Turn-thinned

shell, biting her lip as she follows the steps of dragonets still searching for

that other half.

On the sands, Maradydd finds her way at last, back into the press of candidates

that are not quite so pressing as they were just a short time before. She sees

the ones on the sidelines, the ones who Impressed when she wasn't looking, and

there's a spark of gladness that Akeli's one of them. She sees the bronze too,

and that little blue who's barreling himself toward the seaholder girl from

earlier. Not for mauling though, she doesn't think.

On the sands, As Ulanith's fairweathered wings collapse to her side, the

youthful green's revolted rumble is heard. "Come on, its fresh, really," pleads

her rider, Quin, who holds a freshly carved portion of meat for her lifemate;

the conversation silenced from thereon, the weyrling's gaze now drifts toward

the sands where the remaining hatchlings and candidates remain.

N'ikos grimaces and swallows a gulp much more quickly than he should, especially

with his history of reaction to wine. But he can't pay attention to such

trivial details right now, not when his well-laid plans are falling so swiftly

away. "Thanks Fiora… ."

On the sands, Miafah moves to tell a new brownrider to slow down his lifemate's

feeding before returning her glance to the remaining dragonets. She looks to

catch — well, anyone's eye, to share a smile.

On the sands, Nearly hidden between shards and dam, a shadowy egg splays out to

reveal a very miniscule green, who makes her way on disproportionately large

paws towards a weyrchild who is also very tiny, very young, and very blonde.

Merry, as she's called, suddenly giggles, and her thin girlish soprano rings

out. "She says her name's Pheriannath!"

On the sands, Alezan blinks, and looks around. "Cori," he whispers. "I think I

have some draconic backing with me," he says, looking up to the galleries,

searching for the riders of the greens who spoke to him.

On the sands, An attempt is made, at least, to play the role of the cool and

collected, but Ainsley doesn't do so well. "Yeah, I should have gotten thicker

shoes too," ainsley states to Shan(Shen), her own feet switching off in their

support of her at regular intervals. Must cook them evenly, no?

On the sands, Meat is offered, and gobbled, the first done by dark-haired

Candidate-turned-rider, Seria, the second by her blue lifemate, Etryth. Brown

eyes are focused on blue hide, but eventually she returns some interest to the

sands. Who else will Impress?

On the sands, Arms cross, again, over the abundant cloth of Selvren's robe.

"They ought to make the sands colder. Not that I'm complaining." Because a

manly man like him can put up with anything. Right. Eyes arrow back to the

bronze — of course — but Selvren's stance is confident. "I'm going to win

that bet, y'know. Everyone says so." Trying to convince himself? Nah.

Selvren's just stating what — to him — is a fact.

On the sands, Talisen murmurs, "Pheriannath. What a long name for such a tiny

dragon!" and continues on her rounds.

On the sands, Coriana smiles and nods to Shen. "Look, that other blond hasn't

impressed yet." She nods to the strange girl and shrugs before turning to glance

back at the galleries again. She sighs and looks back down at the sands before

looking curiously over at Alezan. "Hmm? What?"

On the sands, Rose-Leaf Princess Green Dragonet senses something, and it's

apparent by the way her eyes narrow, and spin subtly more quickly, and by the

way her body seems to pull up, to pull in a sense of purpose. She takes a step

in that direction, and her tail slides across the sand. Oh! It makes a sound!

Another step, another sound. And for a moment, the little green is lost in the

sounds she can make.

On the sands, Other sandal is plucked off the floor, and Shen examines it.

"Drat, this ones frying as well." Weight distribution, right. Shen begins

hopping once again, occasionally checking her sandals for signs of melting.

On the sands, Timid Tumultuous Bronze Dragonet is absolutely in entranced by the

confidence - not to mention the billowing ripple of white cloth. In a sudden

move, he toddles forward and plants himself in front of his choice.

On the sands, Timid Tumultuous Bronze Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon

Selvren.

Joerres walks in.

Janthro sighs. Just that. Just that. His little brown nudges at his jaw,

humming.

On the sands, Alezan's eyes watch with raptor-like intensity, following the

movements of the green, flicking from side to side every now and then to keep an

eye on events elseSands.

On the sands, Jules is smiling now, almost as if they were her very own babies.

this is the kind of baby she wants to have. Weyrlings to care for! Eyebrows go

up as Selvren - S'ren impresses. "Miafah? Grab S'ren and that bronze?", she

asks, "Looks like he's going to need a few extra rations to fatten up a bit.",

she says in an aside

N'ikos looks scared to death. Only one hatchling, only on Mardy… .Thank

goodness for the wine or he would be on the edge of his seat, biting his nails

to the quick or something equally nervous looking.

Fiora hums quiet approval. Never too many bronzes she and Pani -do- agree on

that. Nor enough blues and browns come to think on it. She takes her turn

lowering the wine left in the skin. One for them..two for her.

Joerres clatters in, late but here, and jumps around on the top tier looking for

people he knows. In the Galleries. He doesn't know anyone on the Sands. But

the dragons - they're pretty nifty.

On the sands, Coriana grins as Selvren impresses, squeezing Shen's hand just a

little more. "Look, Shen!" She giggles for a moment before taking her eyes back

towards the last hatchling, letting out a soft sigh and starting to switch feet

again.

On the sands, Selvren slime Impressed? Oh well. "Well done!" Shen calls out

resignedly; he snores. Still, she applauds along with several others, before

checking one suspicious looking flip flop. "I think my flip flops're melting."

On the sands, Maradydd wrings a few last drops from the sleeve of her robe,

though it's more likely to be perspiration than Gwid's bathwater at this point

in the proceedings. Maybe if she tries rolling them up to the elbow… Once

again, Mardy allows herself to be distracted by impractical practicalities.

Janthro, in his slouch back from the sands, manages to spot a familiar face

blurring in the crowd — "Joerres!" he dares call, even finds the energy to

wave.

On the sands, Rose-Leaf Princess Green Dragonet can make music on the way,

though. There's a group of people, and in that group, somewhere in there, is her

mate, the person she knows she's here to see. She slides along the sand,

swishing her tail to revel in its sound, adding the gentle clacking of her

newborn claws on the volcanic sand. And she makes it, right to the tall girl,

right to the harper with dark eyes, the girl with the soaking robe.

On the sands, Rose-Leaf Princess Green Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon

Maradydd.

On the sands, Maradydd is whirled around by the bluff hand of a passing

fishercraft lad. "Look! Thar' she blows!" Mardy blinks, not focusing at first,

and then… and then…

On the sands, R'sin half rises, mouth opened to offer a roar of congratulations

-the second time he's managed a loud noise today. "Selvren!" There's no doubting

the bouy's joy at witnessing his twin's impression.

Calandra spots Janthro and shouts, "Janthro! And clatters down in a flurry of

"Pardon me"s and "Coming through"s, just in time to catch the last couple of

Impressions. "I made it!"

N'ikos's worry melts away as he suddenly sees what he's been waiting for.

"Mardy!" He calls out ecsatcially, leaping to his feet and shouting like mad,

tossing aside his usual calm for once.

Janthro jumps up with a squeak, can't help it, and stammers, "M-m-masterweaver!"

He's here. Eek. What?

On the sands, S'ren expected to Impress — he's been telling everyone that.

Despite that surprise is evident, with joy, as he almost seems to tumble forward

towards the Timid Bronze, wrapping his arms around him as tears streak down the

manly man's face. He'll deny them later. "Yzmoth! Yzmoth! I'm all yours!"

Eyes flicker away for a bare moment. "We're hungry?"

Rhia stands up, the crooked beam upon her face. "Maradydd!" is screamed down

upon the sands. "Name! Name! Ohmishards…" Laughter mingles with tears as

S'fina gets a big hug for no apparant reason. "She Impressed! Whoo!"

On the sands, Miafah at the tell-tale toddle of the timid bronze and Jule's

indication, Miafah takes a few steps towards the new pair. "Congradulations,

S'ren… hungry, Yzmoth?" She indicates the buckets awaiting them.

On the sands, "Maradydd!" Shen's cheer is undismissably joyful. "Well done!"

Sands. Go. Now?

On the sands, Hazel eyes follow the bronze. Right up to Selvren… or is it

S'ren now? Ainsley gawks and mutters to haerself, "/He/ Impressed. A bronzE?"

But then she shouts out a congratulations at him and his new lifemate, turning

back to see Maradydd Impress her own green. "Maradydd! Congratulations!" she

yells formally across what expanse separates them.

Fiora merely thrusts the skin into N'ikos' chest. "Ah well..Pani and I still

have ya till the little one grows." Resigned voice is belied by the brillian

glow in her eyes. "Go Mardy! Tol' ya so!", she whispers to herself.

Klari smiles brightly, boy has she /not/ been paying attention much, "Mardy…

Maradydd impressed!" To her it's a good thing. Two Enlanders gone, she's happy

for them but will miss the company.

On the sands, Maradydd bends her head, buckles her knees, sinks so that she can

finally be on a level with those eyes. Those eyes. She smiles solemnly, and the

smile comes back to her, reflected in each of a thousand facets. "Ceolath."

Valyn leaps up, eyes wide as saucers as he sees his cousin do the unthinkable.

Impress. "Nooooooo!" Suddenly he realizes just how stupid that was and tosses

himself dejectedly back into his seat.

On the sands, Coriana grins over at Maradydd and nods before releasing Alezan

and Shen's hands. "It's over now." She nods, a little happy, a little sad, but

pretty much okay with it. She stops hopping long enough to check her feet for

burns, but instead starts to giggle.

Calandra surely didn't actually clatter, but rather proceeded with aplomb.

Really. "I have a package for you," she says, simply. It's a Hatching, one

gets excited. And leaning down, she says, "Didn't mean to startle you."

Bealah is about to faint with all the excitement. Wow! What a Hatching.

On the sands, Jules takes the honor to get her one-time friend. "Ceolath? Sweet!

Maradydd? Help your new lifemate off the sands will you?"

Joerres hurries down and down, jumping to look over people's shoulders, trying

to find Janthro again now that he's lost in the crowd, too.

Janthro straightens up and dons his manly serenity again. "You didn't, Master

Calandra, not too badly." He can do aplomb, too! "I guess — it seems to be

over. If you want to go out … a package? Really?"

On the sands, Alezan watches with dismay as the beautiful green Impresses.

Suddenly tears start flooding out of his tear ducts as he breaks into sobs.

"Oh, Cori!" he wails, burying his face in her shoulder.

S'fina leans back as the last hatching impresses and slowly she takes it all

in, as her mind slows to a thoughtful pace she nods and clapps for the new

Impressee. What a feeling..a feeling she knows..a feeling she remembers/ Coming

back to normal she herself seeks the eyes of her vibrant green. shaking her head

she turns to Rhia. "And Yebanth watched the greens and then looked to grown

males foe the rest of the time…" Exasperation in her vouce on this point.

On the sands, Quin, albeit consumed in her lifemate's refuge, severs that

adoring gaze for a scant second to congratulate both S'ren and Maradydd:

"S'ren, Maradydd!" is hollered, much to Ulanith's dislike; an immediate rebut is

given, however, "Quiet love, I'm just congratulating them."

N'ikos grins jubiliantly, nearly dancing on his feet as he stands there

repeating, "Ceolath… Ceolath." He then takes a large swig from the skin.

"Fi! She Impressed!"

On the sands, Aine sags, biting back the tears that threaten to spill out.

Fiora grins and rises too. "And so she did." Pointing towards the author of that

anguished 'Noooo!', she comments. "Though not all are as happy as you and I it

seems."

On the sands, Coriana blinks as Alezan starts to cry all over her, but just

smiles warmly and wraps an arm around his shoulders comfortingly. "It's okay…"

Maradydd's family bursts into a surprisingly loud chorus of rebel cheers.

"Yeee-hawww!" "Go Mardy!" "She did it Llamri!!"

On the sands, Shen knows no dismay, only relief. "Calandra shouldn't skin me,

hopefully." She shuffles off Sands, pausing long enough to voice a complaint:

"My flip flops have melted, and I need to return to my Hall." If she's going to

cry, it'll be private. New problems are considered: "I'm in Fort. Homes in

Boll."

On the sands, Zephre sighs, her fingers slipping from that broken blue shell to

rest against her hips. They're all pairs, they're all joyous. But, then,

there's some who aren't. And she sighs again.

Bealah looks at Aine sadly. "Poor Aine." she mumbles.

On the sands, Harpers shouldn't get so emotional, should they? Alezan continues

to saturate Cori's robe, ignoring the others around him.

On the sands, Are they all gone? "WEll, I'm glad that's over with," Ainsley

lies through her teeth, sending smiles at those around her, similarly left

standing, especially towards Alezan. Her emotions are expertly kept in though,

as she finds herself in the position of the pillar. "Let's get off the sharding

hot Sands." She'll cry later, when asleep in her bed. Now she looks for

someone, wondering under her breath if they're supposed to be led off.

On the sands, Laria moves with quiet purpose to those left Standing. Here, she's

present, here, she even might know what to say. And what it is, is nothing. She

says nothing, but goes to them, offers an arm, a shoulder, a way out of the

Sands.

On the sands, Mardy does help, or she tries. Actually, Ceolath's much the

steadier one right now, but somehow, with a tug of the robe and a steadying hand

on a neckridge, they both make it to the sidelines.

Calandra glances over her shoulder, making sure she's ditched the Weaver

'escort'. "Sure, whatever. It's outside. I don't know if you remember, but I

did make a promise." And she keeps them. Especially the ones that the advisory

board might not approve.

N'ikos watches Valyn's defeat with the closest thing to smugness he'll ever

convey. But he stops himself to turn to Fiora and wrap the greenrider in a huge

hug. "Valyn'll just have to deal with it."

On the sands, Arien must blink once, twice, and then hide her expression

momentarily in the curve of drawn-up hood — yet when she reemerges, it's with a

rising smile.

On the sands, Aine heads over to the group. She taps Shendti on the shoulder,

and offers a hug.

Bealah sighs, and decides to mabe go home and get some wine.

So. And — so. Naslon gets to his feet, dragging the rest of his entourage

swiftly after him: toadies lose their notes, have to scramble and flutter to

catch them; the guards champ with dismay, trying to sidle to protect their Lord

(against the hordes? Well, those ranch-folk—); and Sabin, just there, just

expressionless, just following after. Nicely timing it to avoid the traditional

post-Hatching speech of consolation and welcome, the Fort Hold contingent has

left the building.

On the sands, Shen hugs Aine tightly. "I'm gonna miss you all, but Calandra

really will skin me if I don't return." Aha, there's B'oring and Math, to take

her home. Not that they know it, yet. But the ex Candie bearing upon them

purposefully elicits a small sigh from B'oring.

On the sands, Coriana bites down on her lip and glances down at Alezan before

smiling over at Shen. She glances over at the galleries before continuing to try

and comfort Alezan. "It's okay, at least you didn't get hurt, right? It could be

worse."

On the sands, Alezan straightens up, hearing Ahzraelth bespeak him again. "Yes,

that's right," he says to himself.

Fiora succumbs to that hug with nary an argument. "Two turns is all it takes.

And then you two will have the skies." She might even soudn a bit wistful.

On the sands, Miafah has to turn away from the candidates left on the sands, and

concentrate on the one's that /did/ Impress. Oh, Faranth, she didn't see that

part so vividly when she had her own new dragonet.

On the sands, Shendti goes home.

On the sands, Aine slowly heads off, head low. eyes downcast.

On the sands, Aine moves off the sands and out to the bowl.

Janthro's sweaty face brightens, pulling him up to standing. "Oh! Of course,

of course, Master—" He tosses a pleading look towards Joerres, friend and

fellow, mouthing, 'See you outside?'

On the sands, Ainsley goes home.

On the sands, Vinnie moves off the sands and out to the bowl.

On the sands, Coriana goes home.

On the sands, Zephre follows Laria's lead, knowing that the newly Impressed are

well taken care of. She stomps out onto the Sands and across the litter of

shards.

On the sands, Jules looks 'round at the new ones to care for. "May I have your

attention? We need to get you guys to your new homes, ok?"

On the sands, R'sin does look to those candidates who didn't impress, hand

raised in their direction, for those who'll see it. But then there's other

things to take his attention, and with one hand resting upon Sparneth's

shoulder, he and the bronze make their way over to join S'ren and his lifemate.

On the sands, R'sin moves slowly out into the bowl.

On the sands, Alezan sniffs, then makes his way back to the Barrack.

Klari stands to her feet stretching a little and sighs, well… not all of her

friends were taken. "How about that.. They didn't keep all of the Enlanders they

took. Oh… Chores." She's just getting back into the habit of forgetting her

chores again. She gives out hugs again and shows her hair to S'fina and Rhia

before heading down the stairs. "Bye everybody!" Gosh, sorta like a gathering

but better. And more interesting in ways.

On the sands, S'ren moves slowly out into the bowl.

On the sands, Laria moves off the sands and out to the bowl.

On the sands, Seria glances up from her careful feeding of Etryth, a wide smile

seeming permenantly fixated on those dark features. "Etryth." she breathes the

name once more before carefully listening to Jules.

Valyn stumbles upwards, a slight glare of almost malice thrown to N'ikos before

he smiles as much as possible towards Fiora. "Might you have any more of that

wine, by any chance?"

On the sands, Yzmoth moves slowly out into the bowl.

On the sands, Quin hardly hears Jules over Ulanith's incessant commentary, left

brow quirked to attention as she silently hushes her lifemate.

Joerres spots Janthro and waves, and nods, and shouts, "Outside, out of the

crowd!" across a sea of heads.

Rhia has disconnected.

Bealah goes home.

On the sands, Alezan gingerly heads across the burning sands towards the exit.

Janthro waves frantically back, then turns to Calandra expectantly. Lead on, O

great one.

On the sands, Miafah moves slowly out into the bowl.

Calandra nods, and starts up the stairs, and toward the crowd of lavender-

knotted folks waiting at the top.

Calandra makes her way down the tiers towards the exit.

Klari makes her way down the tiers towards the exit.

You go down the stairs to the hatching grounds, hoping your footwear will hold

up to the heat.

[This log ends.]

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