[Humming. Candidates react with cluelessness, milling about aimlessly until
the weyrleader takes control]

M'ryn snorts. "Now. Do you all have wax in your ears?"

"Now," Kh'rys affirms. "Hurry!"

Tulon blinsk in startlement…time? Time! Oh…he hurries now..no longer
trudging, to his clothes, and starts the changing into robes process.

Cleoandra starts digging into her clothes press, and pulls out her robe,
slipping it on quickly.

Janah strips her clothes off, quickly, dropping the daily wear into a pile
next to her cot, then ducks into her candy robe.

Anvar jumps up in a burst of frenetic energy. "Oh Shards…!" he shucks out
of his normal clothes with a shiver of expectation, slipping the robe over
his pale shoulders quickly.

One of the other candidates gives Millae a shove and with stilted gestures
she begins pulling on her robe and sandals.

Zandria runs over to her clothes press and whipping off her top struggles
in to her new tunis.The other clothes she kicks under her cot

Karing blushes furiously and finally comes up with his robe, pulling it on,
realizing it's backwards and tries to turn it around without taking it off,
comical grimace courting his mouth.

Janah quickly ties her robe, then turns to the riders, gasping, "I think
I'm ready."

Bennal pulls his robe ofer his head and flounders for a few moments before
he gets it over his head.

Timora strugled out of her dress, and slides the cool white cloth over her
head with a breathy gasp of delight. She tucks her hair up and out of her
face, remembering well the puni..punishing hear..heat ot the sands.

Loreli strolls over to her clothes press, very nonchalantly. Cool as a
cucumber. Ah, here's the robe. She slips out of her clothes, and pulls the
robe over her head, tying it tightly. There we go, all set.

Zandria ties her belt and slips on her sandles.

Tulon releases Cassan, who launches into the air.

Janah quickly finds her sandals, "Oops, forgot these, "She says as she
slips them on. "Now, I'm really ready."

Trevyn flies into the room and stumbles over, through, under people to get
to his press. Clothes fly everywhere in his haste.. finally, "Ah HA!" He
peals off his current garb without a second thought and tosses on his
robe.. then the sandals..*whew*

Zandria tugsd the Robe into placeand pulls her braid to the outsied of the
robe,"I /think/ I'm ready."

Cleoandra stands, and smoothes the front of her robe, somehow, upon her,
appearing to be an elegant dress.

Millae's hands shake as she pulls the robe tight, modesty not even a
thought in her head as her brain flings itself in a million different air
into a somewhat more manageable style as she mutters to herself about
dragons, sand, eggs, and just life in general. Shaking hands lose several
strands flying around her face.

Tulon releases Molten, who launches into the air.

Cleoandra looks about, smiling, eyes glowing with anticipation and a bit of

Tariny rushes in, tearing the curtain nearly off the rail as she does so.

Phoebe zooooommmmsss across the barracks and dives at Trevyn, digging his
claws into the man's robe.

Timora releases Billy, who launches into the air.

Anvar grins at Bennal and Trev and hops from foot to foot with burning
excitement. He didn't think it would like this - all rush, bustle and
tension with no time to catch his bearings.

Anvar releases Knightshade, who launches into the air.

Zandria smiles mindlessly at the other's her nerves rapidly making her

Tariny shakes nervously.

Tulon drops everything unnecessary he is carrying as he shrugs into his
robes and belts it to him before turnign attention to sandles.

Trevyn ducks and yelps at the sight of an incoming Phoebe! But too late! A
talon catches in the single worst possible place… and his hands fly to
cover his backside… but the fringe of dill green boxers screams out from
this singularly long rip.. *oh no*

Tariny swiftly gets into her proper robe.

Loreli glances down at her bare feet. Sigh. Blister-city, here I come!

Anvar has lost his sandals and is too bouncy to search for them.

Kh'rys jst blinks at Trevyn. "Uhhhh."

Cleoandra giggles at Trevyn, a slightly high one, due to her nervousness.

Phoebe happily flies off to quieter placs.

Janah smiles, then shakes again. "Let's go. It is now or never."

Millae's eyes shoot up at Trevyn's yelp, just in time to see Phoebe rip
whatever he could. A look of pure sympathy goes across the room as she

Timora glances around the room fondly, patting her cot as she straightens
her robe and takes a deep, abiet shaky, breath.

Janah bites her lip, and leaves.

Janah heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.

M'ryn grimaces at the chaos. "Everyone be sure to have sandles. I don't
care if their yours or not. You won't be able to take the Sands very well
without them. /Find/ them."

Tariny gets her sandles on. The left one has a strap failure. It flaps
about as she walks around. Flap, flap.

Zandria checks, yup got her sankals they are on the wrong feet, but she has

Timora lifts a pale foot, firmly encased in the sturdy leather sandles.
"Should we go?" She asks softly.

Anvar heeds the weyrleader and scrounged a tattered old pair in the corner.

Tulon waits, now he is dressed…and awake…I mean, who wouldn't be awake
with all this happening around?

Eeps, an order! Loreli drops to her hands and knees, looking under all the
cots for a spare pair of sandles. Come on, somewhere….There! She slips on
a pair, and some other poor candidate is going to have to do without.

Karing wiggles under his bed, finds sandles, one much too small, one much
too big and puts them on, scuffling along clumsily. Help.

Loreli heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.

Bennal glances at his bare feetand shrugs, it;s a littlelate now. Oh well.
Tough mier's skin should protect him well enough.

Cleoandra straightens, and purposely strides towards the sands.

Timora heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.
Millae heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.

Trevyn just glares at the brown …'thing' with a look of pure malice.
Great, and no time to change.. not like he's got anything else to change
into either. One day… one day…

Zandria double check, Robe, belt, sandals,yup all here, now what was she
suppposed to do next?

Kh'rys heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.
Tulon heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.
Karing heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.
Zandria heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.
Cleoandra heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.
Bennal heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.
M'ryn heads out of the barracks, intent on getting to the Sands.

Hatching Sands (#819J)
The heat of these sands is immense, unrelenting, warping sight and
scorching bare feet. The gigantic cavern swallows its contents easily, its
human occupants seeming small as trundlebugs against the skies of Pern, and
yet it is the chosen home to generation after generation of Fort queens'
clutches.The east wall of the cavern is nearby, while the west wall
stretches off into the distance. Along the southern wall, Fort's showy
galleries sit suspended above the sands upon large pillars of stone, each
with a staircase winding upwards. Connected by a narrow walkway, a sequence
of wider ledges has been etched out over the Turns along the northern wall:
it is here that many dragons of the Weyr can come and observe clutchings
and hatchings, offering encouragement to those in need.On the opposite side
of the cavern from the galleries, close-kept in a roughly pyramidal mound,
Rosalth guards a clutch of twenty-six beneath a sphinx's sultry saffron
You see Rosalth, Khalith, Cinnamon and Spice Egg, Piemur's Dream Egg,
Vanilla Egg, Wine Cellar Egg, Burning Incense Egg, Yardley Lavender Egg,
Cedar Chest Egg, Musty Furs Egg, Fresh-Cut Hay Egg, Morning Klah Egg, and
Meeko here.Toria, Lysalla, Kessaly, Ryka, J'dano, Arien, Ariana, Janah,
Loreli, Timora, Millae, Kh'rys, Tulon, Karing, Zandria, Cleoandra, Bennal,
and M'ryn are here.

Timora is pale, bit her sy..step is firm as she strides out onto the
burning sands beneath her. She smiles weakly as she glances up into the
galleries, searching for the one who /promie..promosed/ she'd be here.

Cleoandra shifts upon her feet, heat from the sands still uncomfortable
through her sandles.

Khalith thrums acceptance to those in white stepping forth.

Sarriskel steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

Janah takes a deep breath, and stands taller, then smiles.

Millae swallows nervously as she stops at the entrance. Seeing the dragon
the eggs and the people in the galleries is almost too much for her.
Getting bumped from behind she quickly gives an awkward curtsey that might
even make Lady Yasmine proud. Then with a stumbling hop skipping step, she
joins the growing crowd of candidates.

Zandria bows deeply and states with her heart,"Thank you golden lady!"and
finds her place on the sands.

Kh'rys heads across the sands, candidates in her wake. A glance or two for
the burgeoning galleries and she continues.

M'ryn bows politely to Rosalth and Khalith and joins the group gathered on
the Sands.

Anvar steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

Ariana has positioned herself nearby as well, hands clasping bare elbows
with a swift smile. Mental tally goes as she watches the arranging.

Bennal wavers from foot to foot, being careful to avoid egg shards and
other people's feet as he takes his place.

Sarriskel pelts in near the tag-end of the group: huffing and puffing,
high-snapped steps revealing between flaps of white cloth the view of
superbly thin shanks. All the rest of him is lanky, too, from prematurely
balding brown head to wriggling long feet and hands. Bow, bow, bow, bow —
is that all? Yes, and the Candidate slides into place, still battling for
full breath.

Tulon blinks as he steps out onto the sands, almost stumbling with shock
and the immportance of the moment finnaly hitting him…quickly he recovers
himself an bows deep to Rosalth and her rider before joining the others.

Janah focuses on breathing, trying to remain calm as the eggs shake gently.

Timora approaches the queen and her bronz e and drops a curtsey, and a bow
as she rises for good measure. She slides into her place in the rough
circle around the trembling orbs.

Zandria strides quickly to a place v(beside) Janah and straightns out aware
of the crowd and the eggs.

Never the one for tact, Loreli waves cheerfully at the dragons, "Hi
Khalith!" Khalith's her pal. Oh yeah, almost forgot…"Hi Rosalth!"

Karing hurridly remembers to bow, though he nearly scrapes his forehead on
the sand before standing wobbily back up, not realizing he just flashed one
whole set of the galleries, robe being a /tad/ too small.

Trevyn stumbles out onto the sands, one hand snatching the fabric at the
back of his robe. He bows then, respectfully so, to both dragons here, then
slips over to join the rest of the group.

Tariny steps onto the Sands and finds a place.

Tariny shuffles in, one sandle flapping.

Cleoandra takes a place near the others, and watches the eggs, gaze never
faltering, feet shifting with nervousness that doesn't appear upon her

Anvar tumbles onto the sands all but last in the procession. He remembers
decorum for one of the few instances in his life and bows to the queen and
her brown mate. Duty done, he seeks support. In numbers.

Burning Incense Egg coils in its shadowed place, touching the air with
hints of cinnabar.

Bennal belatedly bows to Rosalth and Toria, tryign to keep his balance as
he shifts from foot to foot again the heat ofthe sand, he waves but does
manage to stay upright. Barely.

Rosalth lifts her head high and proud as she accepts the bows, her eyes
whirling fast excitment.

Millae works her way intently through the crowd of candidates till she's
standing at Trevyn's side. Glancing nervously at him a single time, she
gives a weak smile.

Sarriskel moves subtly over for Anvar. Numbers, indeed.

Janah winks at Anvar, trying hard to remain calm, and failing miserably.

And so they all arrange themselves in their rough semicircle: 60 all told,
to stand for 26 that may hatch.

Tariny bumps into Bennal as he bows. "Ow." What was he dawdling for…oh!
She bows.

Kessaly beams sunnily. Look. How nice. Lots of people. She gives Ryka's
hand a squeeze.

Khalith extends a copper muzzle to nuzzle the saffron queen who shares his

Zandria shifts her feet on the burning sands, the sandals not being much
help and grins at her fellow candidates.

Toria raises an eyebrow at Trevyn's robe, and glances over at Kessaly and
Lysalla, pointing semi-discreatly to the candidate.

Kh'rys aligns herself with M'ryn, away from the eggs. A swift glance scours
the candidates almost as hot as the burning sands, checking each and every
one. It lingers on Trevyn and his covering attempts, but moves eventually
on. Nothing to be done about it now.

Ryka smiles down at her weyrmate, eyes glowing and shimmering.

A gaggle of giddily giggling candidates clusters off to the side, all
hopping and fidgiting as the sands burn through the soles of their sandals.

Trevyn shifts over to Millae's side and extends his jittery fingers to
her…Something solid to hang onto. After a nervous grin his gaze shifts
towards the eggs..

Tulon glances towards the others and flashes nervous smiles - eye wide and
very awake - even the lack of sleep over the last few sevendays can't
restrain his excitement. He turns back to the eggs, searchign amongst them
to spot favourties.

Timora shifts her weight from one foot to the other, watching patiently
with her dark green eyes. She turns to glance at her fellow candidates,
giving them silent well-wishes and good- lucks.

Janah extends her other hand to Zandria, then turns to look at the cedar

Tariny tries to get into place, and knocks a miner boy flying. "oops!"

Lysalla peers the way Toria's finger carefully points and blinks, covering
the smile and stifling the quiet laugh.

Loreli lifts her eyes up to the galleries. Ever trying to be the center of
attention, she waves up to the spectators.

Millae looks away from Trevyn and toward the eggs with a nervous swallow.
Without looking, her fingers entwine with his as they stand among the tense

Zandria looks at Janah, seeking support , nowing that Janah needs it as
badly as she does, fingers grope for reasurance.

Morning Klah Egg wobbles just slightly - or is that the sunlight bouncing
off of it?

Cleoandra's silver-grey gaze rests upon the eggs, falling to the lavender
one from time to time, nervousness emanating from her like a wave.

Janah twines fingers, cold hand needing cold hand, then truns to look at
the eggs.

Piemur's Dream Egg gives another aromatic burble, lolling upon its side to
seek a cooler place on the sands.

Karing wiggles, bending over and flashing the galleries again as he tries
to pull his too small sandle back on. He rises with a nervous grin at

Zandria watches the moving eggs trying to spy her v(fv(favorite lavender

Bennal tries to keep his balance as Tariny gostles him and the sands burn
his feet, his gaze drawn to the wobbling and rocking eggs with a hopeful
light in them.

Cedar Chest Egg shifts — a moment, rumpled hues mixing into fuzzed

Trevyn still clenches the back of his robe tight.. wouldn't do to have that
rip go noticed, and he twists away from the Galleries.. well, the back end
of him anyway. He spots Millae's favorite moving and nudges her.. "Look!"

Millae perks up as her favorite egg moves. And then, just as suddenly as it
moved, her face falls again. It's just a dream anyway. Best to just hope
for her friends.

Janah grips her hand, then gasps as the cedar chest egg moves slightly. She
has no time for the galleries now, only the eggs.

Tulon glances to the golden queen again, then back to her clucth - did oen
of the move? He hopes so…and thatsoon, very soon things will begin
happening…the sand underfoot is gettign hot after all…very hot.

Zandria grips Janah's hand as she notices her friend's favorite shift.

Musty Furs Egg adjusts, a rat-tat-tap from within.

Anvar crunches his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. Another. And another.
A flash of green irises widening. Onononono. It wasn't just a dream. Anvar
takes in the enormous arc of the Fort Hatching cavern slowly. How can
someone feel claustrophobic in a space this large?! Turning he sidles
closer to Janah.

Tariny stands still, trying not to do any more damage, clenching her fists
convulsively as the eggs rock.

Janah turns and grins at Anvar, offering her other hand.

Vanilla Egg trembles haughtily, as its occupant stirs.

Cleoandra jumps slightly as egg after egg moves, her eyes glowing with
excitement, and flashes a grin at the other candidates.

Sarriskel puffs up an encouraging breath and bounces a bit forward on the
balls of his feet. Hands clench to his side, dour eyes sputter over the
clutch, and then he's immobile again … waiting.

Yardley Lavender Egg trembles — once — and then its melded hues drain
into the sudden pockmark marring the shell's zenith, disappearing into
exaggerating cracks and crackling shards around the emergence of a pale
paw, leg, and then tumbling body of an unfurling green dragonet.
White Lotus-Green Dragonet emerges from her shell.
Unfurling. Unfolding. Green on green on white spread her wings in demure
veil to the rest of her lissome form: the palest of whites, as silky and
opaque as the finest of petals, intermixes with the faintest of greens to
lend a glow to what once was cold and austere but now is rich with the most
subtle of verdant hues. Sinuous lines draw her body, angular nose sloping
to wide eyes, limber neck, long-swept wings and a narrow tail; a lacy
webwork winds throughout, more purely green than the rest, glinting
elusively reflective.

Burning Incense Egg seemingly lurks, hidden behind a have of fragrant

Torn between guarding her precious eggs, and welcoming the new babies into
the world, Rosalth wavers for a few moments, then gives in and moves to the
side. They're your's.

Zandria seeks to see if she can also spot ther other favorte, the spice

Bennal smiles slightly as the dark mustry fur egg shifts, Oh what will soem
from inside?

Janah gasps as the first egg cracks.

Tulon -knows- there are people watchign from the stands above, not just
freinds and colleagues, but strangers too and tires to put it out of his
mind as he concentrates the - oh - all else is forgotten as egg breaks and
hatchlign emerges.

Janah moans softly, "She is beautiful."

Timora's paleness gives way to flushed pink, her pale robe already wrinkled
and damp from her sweat. She hardly knows where to look, having never turly
picked a favorite, so her visit..vision is torn from one egg to another as
they dance and tremble in their steamy bed. Her hands clutch the sides of
her robe, gripping the cool white cloth with a grasp of steel. Her eyes
widen in surprise and amazment at te,,the sight of the firt..first
bore..born. *sigh*

Tariny lets out a breath. "Oooooh!"

Cleoandra bounces as the first egg cracks, a smile lighting her face.
Whispered upon a breath, a singe word, "Lovely."

Karing goggles at the sudden bursting of shell and yelps. He covers his
mouth convulsively, tourmaline eyes large saucers.

Wine Cellar Egg settles further into sand's warmth, a quiver of spilled
wine tricking along its side as it turns.

Zandria sucks in her breath at the beauty of the green dragonet, watching
her every move, will touching the egg help she hopes so.

Millae's mouth drops open as the first egg hatches, "Oh… she's b..
beautiful." Wide emerald eyes seem to have become transfixed on the first
dragonet as she emerges.

Ariana smiles, broadly. And watches. Glace flicks up to ledges and back
again, before waiting: choices.

Trevyn just watches, jaw slightly slack as the first frees herself from her
shell.. "A Green.. pretty one at that." But even for all her wonder, he
cannot help but glance over at his favorite..

Janah grips her friend's hands so tightly that she can hear knuckles
cracking, then turns to watch, following the green with her eyes.

White Lotus-Green Dragonet blinks slowly, pale lids veiling
brightly-whilring eyes, only to open and reveal their glowing-gem depths
once more. Slowly stretching her wings to their fullest, she takes a
tentative step forward, out of the remains of her shell.

Cinnamon and Spice Egg cracks, hairline-swift, coursing 'round the lines of
peel and root.

Cleoandra's favorite did hatch first, and follows the lovely green with her
eyes, shifting position from the heat of the sands — and excitement deep

Bennal forgets for a moment to shift from foot to foot asthe wonderous
sight ofthe first hatchling appears. Only the searing heat breaks his
concentration and reminds him to breathe. Who will she choose?

Zandria watches intent on the little green's every movement, her body
leaning towrds it, her feet frozen all be to burning hot sands. Toria's
smile spreads ever so wide at the apearance of the first hatchling, "A
green no less. Lovely."

Loreli grins, "Neat.." With a broad smile on her face, she watches the
dragonet. And is the cinnamon egg about to hatch? She likes that egg…

Janah doesn't feel the heat, the fingers, only sees the green.

Anvar flicks his gaze back from the galleries and the horde of eager
onlookers gratefully. Green. "She's a little…wrinkled…" he declares
with a smidgen of tact.

Sarriskel is frozen, no other word for it. Chop him up for serving as
slivers and cubes in wineglasses….Even the sweat trickling down his shiny
pate-to-be into wide eyes seems to have halted.

Burning Incense Egg stirs, a wisp of crackling drifting over its shell as a
silent battle wages within.

Ariana leans over towards the closest cluster of weyrwomen and sire's
rider, 'And who says bronze is good luck? We've always had it."

Tariny looks at the green with awe. A real actual hatchling! They're so

Millae trembles as the dragonet opens her eyes to the world. Biting her lip
she holds back any wild thoughts about it looking her way.

Tulon opens eyes wide, then shuts then again…is he seeign things. Opening
them again, he decides he isn't. He -is- on he sands and there -are- eggs
hatching, no doubts about it. "Oh my," he seems too be mouthing as he
watches, unable to move/

White Lotus-Green Dragonet turns her head this way and that, eyes sweeping
across the gathered candidates. Her wings fold, gossamer veils colapsing to
her sides. With a slow turn of her head she twists to look up at Rosalth
and creel curiously.

Timora licks her lips, moistening the chapped flesh nervously as she
watches the green with her silent eyes. She blinks once, still gripping her
robe with now-trembling hands.She sighs, shakily, and lifts one foot of the
sand, in absent relief.

Lysalla flashes Ariana a prideful gaze, perhaps even more than the one that
filled her face after her latest child's birth.

Zandria watches the greens first steps, and shifts the burning feet,
careful not to me(move,

Janah moves from foot to foot, trying to remain comfortable, but not to
scare away the little dragonet.

Ooo.. but which to watch?! Trev's sky-blue gaze bounces and dart between
this one and that, while keeping a careful eye on the dragonet. All
thoughts of rips and Phoebe gone from his mind, he is here, and this is the
moment finally come. He squeezes Millae's fingers a bit and simply watches.

Rosalth bugles cheerfully to her daughter, urging her on to find a

Karing gulps, unexpectedly choking. He goes into a coughing fit, dark hair
tumbling raggedly over his forehead. Catching his breath, he gulps again,
prominent adam's apple playing pingpong at his neck.

Cinnamon and Spice Egg might, just might be about to hatch. The crack
widens into a full-fledged delta, and a trace of orangey shell chips free.

Piemur's Dream Egg crackles with sparks of caramelized juices, all purples
and blues.

Cedar Chest Egg fractures — just a hair. Hinges shift, sweep, reveal hues
again, and cedered afterthoughts.

Vanilla Egg trembles; refined and slow, no hurry here.

Janah gasps, not knowing where to look.

Zandria whispers,to Janah"A green, and from the lavender egg, She's

Khalith rumbles to his newest kin, urging her to seek and find.

Janah whispers, "Good luck, Zandria."

Arien grins sidelong, ever-distracted — memory — "Luck, indeed—" and
keeps cautious eye on the candidates circling 'round.

Tariny bashes Karing on his back.

Cleoandra gazes at the little green, eyes wide as can be, full of wonder.
Shifting her feet, her gaze never falters.

Loreli snaps her eyes around the Sands, trying to see all the eggs hatch at
once. An impossible task, but hey, isn't the important thing that she's

Eggs jostle, crackle, jerk, and spasmodically rock everywhere. A
bewildering array of excitement that beckons the eye everywhere at once.

Bennal sighs as new lady questions her dam, who will she choose? Will the
sands burn his feet to the bone before this is all over?

Tulon smiles, a soft smile, as he watches…it is beyond all he imagined it
would be…nodding slowly, he agrees with a few whispered comments. "Aye,
she is beautiful," he murmurs.

Tariny's gaze irrevocably goes back to the dainty green.

Millae starting at the gentle squeeze of her hand, she darts a look at
Trevyn and towards his favorite egg. With a small, affectionate filled
smile, she squeezes his hand back. This time she turns back to the other
eggs and the dragonet with a slightly… /very/ slight… calmer air.

Toria's eyes sweep across the cavern, taking everything in as best she can.
So much to see!

Morning Klah Egg wobbles again. Definite wobble there. Not the sun.

Zandria nods and swallows, her eyes never leaving the little green, and her
statley walk, especially for one so young.

Timora swallows convulsivly, her eyes locked on the pale green form of the
first hatchling. In her chest, her heart bound.. pounds, the sound rising
in her ears, drowingout all the moi,.. noise and scuffle of the candidates,
dragonets, and the galleries' c..occupants.

Janah stares only at the green, not the other eggs, just the green, at
least until another hatches.

White Lotus-Green Dragonet turns back to consider the candidates. She takes
another two steps forward and pauses near a group of young men. Something
is not right this way. She turns around with exaggerated care and begins to
cross the sands in the other direction, weaving around the other eggs.

Burning Incense Egg flames a bit more, larger, sisal-textured cracks
appear, letting yet more of cinnabar and myrrh fill the air.

Burning Incense Egg decomposes in lightninged cracks. Coils of grainy
smoke-shards flake away, clear — then blow suddenly apart beneath bannered
wings, unshrouding in fired accord.
Sculpted Sarcophagus-Bronze Dragonet emerges from his shell.
Battered corrosion shrouds this dragonet's brazen hide, flaking even the
beaten gold of neckridges and wingarches with ancient, burnt-black shadows;
the underlying coppery bronze sleeps quietly beneath that dusky coverlet,
the true hue dreaming within sculpted jawline and prominent headknobs, the
heavy glint of talons. Those awkwardly large paws unsettle his long-nosed
composure as much as do blunt wings' roughened damask, leaving him with but
tenuous, dilapidated decadence and rather wistful rumblings.

Janah follows the green with her eyes, then gasps as a bronze hatches.

Ariana stands carefully to the side: watches. And there it is, another to
tandem the blue that stumbles free on the other side.

Millae watches the myrrh egg hatch with wonder. As the bronze emerges, her
eyes immediately go to see Trevyn's expression.

Tariny hardly even sees the bronze, so intent is she on the green.

Trevyn blinks, frowns, and glances down at his feet. Shards but these sands
are…"Hot! Ow! Ouch!" And so begins the Candie Shuffle. But Sands or no,
its a bronze! Trev holds his breath, eyes wide… he forces down a swallow.

Tulon watches the young green, still rooted like a tree to the spot,
following her every action, till something in the corner of his eye catches
his attention…another egg hatching…and a young bronze.

Karing brushes his unruly hair off his forehead, peeking out from beneath
it, then hopping from foot to foot, mismatched sandles flopping up little
tufts of sand. He's gotta pee.

Sarriskel puffs up even more, almost tilting backwards from that swell o'
torso, but those wide eyes drag him forward once more as the green passes
— and the bronze Hatches-

Loreli smirks as the green hatchling passes on the guys. Take that, men.
But then the bronze hatches, "Whoa.." A bronze does her no good, but,
still. It's neato peachy keen.

Zandria grips Janah's hand tighter, not realizing that she might be
hjurting her friend as she watches the green search for her lifemate.

Bennal stills again as the bronze explodes from his shell, the burning of
the sands blistering feet now as he watches.

An amidst those joggling, boggling eggs, another one decides to crack,
spilling forth a green to join the first. Strong mint discards sticking
shards as wings flare open to catch light's ray before further movement of
the feet. Staggering forward, it takes as usual little time for the
dragonet to find the perfect match—he is there, just waiting for her, in
flapping white robe and Smith's calloused hands.

Cedar Chest Egg shudders — shifts — and sinks lower in its sandy nest.

Cleoandra turns to the bronze, but her gaze returns to the lovely green,
unable to take her eyes off her. A slight shifting of feet, hoping.

Timora shivers , a strange movement in the burning heat of the grounds. She
turns, briefly, catching glimpse of brazen hide, but the verdant dragonet
pulls her vision back to the green. Weight shifted from foot to foor..
foot, she watches the green in her attempt to find her lifemate.

Janah wipes a bead of sweat off her forehead, then grasps a hand again,
then gripping hands. Then gasps as the first candidate makes
impression…."Oh, Zand, look!"

Anvar's eyes take on a skittish cast, the whites appearing like a frigid
corona around the green depths of his irises. The crowding candidates have
made him nervous. Forced forward he sees an opening in the circle and steps
clear of his nearest neighbours, only sweating now from the heat of the
sands not his until_now latent claustrophobia. "A bronze!" His rich tenor
echoes chorally the calls of well nigh on sixty candidates.

Sculpted Sarcophagus-Bronze Dragonet steps froth from the shadows that held
sway for many a month, clumsey for all his antiqued appearance. His face,
dark though not foreboding begins the seeking.

Rosalth responds as all mother's should at the birth-hatching of such
ahandsome child, and bugles to the bronze dragonet!

Khalith bellows now in rumbly delight. A bronze.. another child.

Loreli points at the second green. Gee, nothing like having your sights
zeroed in on one Candidate and one Candidate only.

Kessaly grins, and tugs on Ryka's hand. "Bronze!"

Millae winces at the bugle and wide, endless emerald eyes dart up to the
queen. Nervousness encroaches again as she swallows and squeezes hard on
Trevyn's hand, her palm sticky with sweat.

Musty Furs Egg's somnolent curve arcs, alters from its hatchling's efforts-

Cleoandra looks at the candidate a trifle enviously, then returns to the
little green, eyes bouncing from her to the other eggs, waiting, hoping.
She shifts, gaze jumping about with excitement.

Tulon shakes his head slwoly…this -has- to be a dream…he has fallen
asleep and is dreaming after a heavy days choreing…right? A pinch
confirms this not to be the case, and he gulps nervously…eyes dart back
and forth between variously hatchlings

Zandria drags her eys away from the glowing green and see the impression
take plase, she grins at her friend,"May we be so lucky!"Again her eyes
find the green and watch her progress across the sand.

Kh'rys watches and smile; a proud smile: of mother, of father, or weyr.

Toria is busy watching a dragonet struggle from the peach egg, and misses
the apearance of the bronze, till Rosalth bugles, getting her attention,

Vanilla Egg shifts suddenly, spinning to its side on the sand.

White Lotus-Green Dragonet stumbles suddenly and plants her nose at one
hapless candidate's feet. With a plantative creel she scrambles to her feet
and looks up.. and up.. and up, finally locking her blue-whirling eyes with
those of a young woman.

Janah doesn't move, just grips Zandria's hand, tightly and painfully,
whispering, "Oh please.'

Timora sways slightly, rocking gently on her heels as she watches, standing
tall in her thin shift.

Trevyn's gaze is rivited by the sight .. the shuffle slows and his
attention drawn to the dark dragonet and his stumbling.. One hand raises to
rub the sweat from his eyes, and the robe flutters open. Dill green boxers
exposed for all to see.

Ryka grins widely, smiling at the young bronze, "Beautiful lad, he is."

Loreli hides her fingers behind her back. She wasn't the one to pinch
Tulon. Nope, not her.

Cedar Chest Egg gives a last shudder, a flake falling away.

Tariny gasps.

White Lotus-Green Dragonet gazes deep into Tariny's eyes and creels softly.

Cedar Chest Egg rolls onto its side, into a shiver of unfolding cracks and
chasms that yawn suddenly, warmly open upon a befuddled hatchling of opaque
eyes and glisteny blue hide.
Gauzy Nubian-Blue Dragonet emerges from his shell.
Deepest indigo courses, steady and cyclic, over elongated wingspars that
surmount a frame too angular for grace; the dragonet compensates by careful
placement of moon-pale mithril talons, consciously sedate like the
ritualistic movements of some once-sacred dance. Gauzed silver, silken and
fine, lends a subtle luster to the inky shadings of wingsails and throat
and ventral curl of tail. From within twilight's enigmatic sheath, hooded
eyes loom liquid and captivating despite his palpable need; shrouded in
secrecy, veiled in ancient mystery, his presence is all curtained and
discreet silence.

Zandria stands stock still leaning forward not daring to reach and
touch,Please, look my way!."she whispers.

Janah gasps as the Cedar chest egg moves, then starts her litany, "Oh

Tariny says, "Oh! Oh, you little wonderful darling!"

Cleoandra's breath catches in her throat as the little green looks into
Tariny's eyes, and shifts, Come on…look at /me/.

Janah gasps, "Oh, a blue! Look, Zand, a blue!"

Karing looks about him, almost in a panic, he stammers, "Oh shards!!! What
am I supposed to look at???"

Sculpted Sarcophagus-Bronze Dragonet steps forward, sprays of sand lifting
with the awkwardness of each new step as still he clings to the dusky
shadows, skirting the throng of white robes before him, eyes whirling

Janah watches the green impress, then turns back to the blue.

Millae catches Tariny and the green out of the corner of her eye. Turning
to send a lopsided smile of congratulations, she sees the indigo blue
emerge from his shards. Struck by the silver and metal glints, she just
stares slack jawed.

Loreli sighs. There goes another green. Oh well. But hey, there's a blue!
Blue's are nice, too.

A pallid egg explodes into a fury of shardlets and translucent liquid, and
out rolls a pert little blue who shakes his wings to dry, orients, and
fairly leaps all of two paces to the foot of one of those giddily giggling

As her friends gasp and blanch, the chosen one kneels into a rush of tears
and the one, true, whispered name.

More eggs start to hatch now, dragonets pouring forth to greet their new
lives and lifemates. A green staggers abou;t near the far end of the
traditional semicircle, finally stopping and nigh bowling over a young lad
from the healer hall.

Loreli smiles. And the blue's even the same color as one of her 'lizards.

Timora pales, momentarily, before the rush of color returns o..to her
cheet..cheeks. She glances away, trying to remind herself to stay calm
while a moistness comes to her eyes. She sighs, and turns back to the
circle off eggs, waiting and watching, for… what eles can she do?

Zandria sighs sadly as the green goes to anothe, and watches with
a(saddened eyes back to the sands and thoer eggs and hatchlings, noticing
for the first time another green and the ceder egg rocking.

Gauzy Nubian-Blue Dragonet lifts gauzed head, plants mithril talons:
movement he shall have. A step forward to test, angular limbs carried in
awkward movements.

Bennal, dry-mouthed, foot-seared, notices nothing. Nothing but the little
dragons breaking from their shells and becoming real. He turns in a cirlce
, just to see.

Cleoandra's gaze turns to the blue. Blues are good, though the green was
really something. She watches the blue now, heart in her eyes. Waiting, she
hopes, and dreams.

Vanilla Egg shivers again, the slightest shudder.

Janah watches the blue, happily, dry-mouthed, and excited, hoping, praying.

Beaten gold glints from beneath burnt-black as the first-born bronze
approaches a grouping of candidates, the long lines of his muzzle fraught
with clinging grains of sand, his face yet dark.

Sarriskel blinks a few times (at the intense heat and anticipation, surely)
and shifts his weight foot to foot. A brown passes, occludes his view of
the blue and bronze; he rises on tiptoe to see better — a very pole of
white-robed anxiety.

Karing bites his lip, he really has to pee, but….oh, that's a pretty

Zandria smiles at Janah,"Good luck"she whispers.

Tiny holds the White Lotus-Green Hatchling's head in her hands. "She sais
her name is Fugueth!"

Wine Cellar Egg shifts, yet again, eartchquake suddering its oaken depths.

An over large water cress colored egg bursts open in a violent explosion of
shards as the brown inside bugles his release. With nary a pause to dust
himself off of the egg dust, he bounds across the sands through the center
of the pack of candidates to clain a quiet young man in back. Struck
senseless, the shy boy just mutters the name under his breath.

Toria cheers loudly as the first impression happens, only to be drowned out
by Rosalth's bugle of excitment.

Piemur's Dream Egg swirls onto its opposite apex suddenly and remains
still, baking.

Loreli casts a sideways glance at Karing. Didn't his mother ever tell him
to go /before/ a hatching?

Trevyn follows the shadowy path of the dark one with morning bright eyes
… then he feels a slight draft behind him. Glanceing over his shoulder he
spots the tear and the perfect view of his shorts. He meeps and grabs it
with his free hand.

Zandria lets go of Janah's hand to wipe the w(sweat) from her face and
wiping her hand on her robe reaches for the comforting hand again, watching
the blues progrss for the shell.

Anvar looks on incomprehensibly as another impression takes place before
him. "What are they getting so excited about?" he asks rhetorically and
unusually accerbically. Heat. People. Not a soothing balm to Anvar's less
that tolerant disposition. He takes a deep breath, practically
hyperventilating while his eyes inscribe figure-eights across the sands and
hatchlings. Blue Green Bronze Brown.

Timora folloews the first, gangally movements of newly emerging dragonets,
seeing not, reflected in their whirling eyes, her fate. She casts one
glance at the lucky now tiny.. Tiny, and a smal smile graces her lips for
the breafe..briefest of momments.

Tiny takes Fugueth aside, the tiny dragonet looking incongrously small
against her large lifemate. Not that that will last long.

Karing giggles hysterically at the hole in Trevyn's shorts, then blinks, a
draft? Uh Oh.

Gauzy Nubian-Blue Dragonet moves in slow, paced movements, outwards.
Towards /that/ group. The one with the mind he so desires — the one as
lucent to his need as he.

Janah retakes Zand's hand, breathing loudly, gasping at times. Praying.

Cleoandra smiles at Tiny, a congratulations, then returns her attentions to
the blue, a bounce in her movements. There's still so many.

Musty Furs Egg shudders a crack, pale through sable, and after that
moment's release — halts.

A spindly blue lurches across the sands and wobbles his way past a knot of
holder lads, finally ending in front of a scrawny girl-child. Bright blue
eyes lock into dark brown and tears start to flow. From the stands, a group
of Harpers cheer as one of their own Impresses a Harper blue.

Sculpted Sarcophagus-Bronze Dragonetdeparts from the shadows with tumble of
limbs and talons, finding now a darkness akin to his own, shadowed in
auburn's embrace. Eyes search, beckoning..

Zandria grins at her friends excitemnt and watdhes the blue as he seems to
be coming closer.

Sarriskel appears transfixed, like much of this group and the galleries as
well, by that — hole. Hole. No, no: he swings his eyes firmly /back/ to
the spectacle, clenches his fists into his robe, and bobs a few times. To
see better, y'know.

Loreli frowns. The blue wanted /her/? Everyone at the Hall knows that she
wasn't the best Harper to choose from. At least, that's Loreli's opinion,
and she'd be happy to share it with everyone.

Millae watches the transluscent indigo dragonet cross the sand with out
breathing. Everything seems to have stopped as the weight and potential
consequences of her current situation hit her.

Cinnamon and Spice Egg's tempo heightens, from slow, regular heart's beat
to impatient quickening, calling down the shadows.

Green hatches yet again, the mellow tones of crusted bread-brown falling
away to reveal water-washed sleekness. Flowing across the sands, she
selects an increedulous girl barely old enough to be on the sands at
all—who says age means anything? Or experience?

Karing minces his feet, suddenly noticing the heat of the sands, "Oooh! Oh,
ouch, oooh, ooh, hot!"

Bennal sees, now, the impressions begin. Almost he forgets his own
shakiness in the joy appearing. Almost, but not quite, and wasn't that a
brown that just hatched? "I wish I had some bicarbonate," he moans under
his breath. Then he squares his shoulders, and moves. Hot feet. Move.

Janah watches, waiting, eyes glowing hopeful.

White, green, and now brightest red claims Trev's person. His eyes scans
the sands .. Wow, lots happening here! Where to look first? His head takes
on this snapping action trying to take it all in at once..

Fresh-Cut Hay Egg jolts into action, like a sneeze bursting through dust
and dry.

Loreli lets out a groan. Not bicarbonate again!

Cleoandra steps forward, then back, unable to help herself. What will
happen, will her dream come true? Shifting her feet, she waits. Is that not
all she can do?

Janah breathes, one two three, one two three, then turns back to the group.

Gauzy Nubian-Blue Dragonet moves foward again, every step a ritual of
placement. Of step. Nigh-to-theatrical in motion, yet contained. Eyes lift,
seek, search: where?

Millae tears her eyes forcibly away from the blue to see the bronze
starting to makehis choice. Involuntarily, her eyes flick to Trevyn's face
once more, before looking back at the bronze. Her hand clenches his with an
unconscious possesiveness.

Sculpted Sarcophagus-Bronze Dragonet selects, chooses as he stands afixed
to the spot that places him in view of the dark-haired one, jet black to
his burnt black. A tiny sound emerges.

Timora lifts a foot from h..the sands and shakes it a bit, trying to ease
the pain in her slow roasted appendage. She loosens her hands from her
robe, instead clentching them before her, fingers twineing together in her
nervous, anticipation.

Vanilla Egg trembles again. The tiniest of fissures appears near the top of
the egg, and then all movement stops.

Zandria settles down and watches the impressions taking place all aroung
her, the mystery and magic of the moment, she watches to progerssion of
lifemated couples emerge, together always.

Anvar feels the heat rise and swirl about him, eyes watering and blinking
as eyes lose track in the riot of colours.

Sarriskel bounces on his toes, yes he does. Boinga-boinga-boinga…His
shoulders twitch abruptly, and he stills as the blue begins its closer

Janah stops shaking, and begins to breathe softly, watching the other
impress, wondering.

Zandria grins happily as she watches the bronze fing Trevyn.

Karing emits a high pitched yip as a dragonet speeds past him, it's tail
lifting the short robe as the dragonet makes a beeline for a weaver lad
behind him. His hands flutter comically, trying to keep the robe down, he
forgot underwear.

Cleoandra bounces as the bronze approaches someone, and then turns to the
blue. "Come on…" she murmurs under her breath, hoping. He chooses!? A
grin, still watching the little blue.

Toria makes her way to her lifemate, eyes darting about the sands, hopeful
she won't miss a single thing.

Loreli catches sight of what's under Karing's robe. Hmmm, not bad…

Trevyn freezes stock still. Black to black, and he gently releases Millae's

fingers and stares.. boxers forgotten.. drawn toward a small sound, he

Sculpted Sarcophagus-Bronze Dragonet seems utterly impatient now, elongated
nose dipping low to the one he desires, his partner in shadowed pleasure.
Soft muzzle collects and grips dill green cloth and tugs.

Janah points to Trevyn, "Look! Congrats!"

Cinnamon and Spice Egg unpeels, releasing potent oranges and browns for
inner fragments pure and jagged as ivory profiles. From them, then, finally
— inevitably — emerges a wet, long-limbed form, kohl-framed eyes blurred
with egg-fluid but already glittering with pride at her outbreak.
Hieratic Nilotic-Green Dragonet emerges from her shell.
Dark hunter-green sweeps this lithe dragonet's spare, cursive lines,
unvarying in stylized symmetry through the proud arch of neck, the lean
coil of flanks, the serpentined lash of tail. Wickedly coruscant eyes flash
the only departure from this stern classicism—until those exacting wings
fan wide in a revelation of tone-shimmered sails, priestly rainment
brocaded in a moire' array of blue-green and and gold and shifting, warding

Sculpted Sarcophagus-Bronze Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Trevyn.
Thick smoke shrouds your mind's eye in oily black, permeating the maze of
self with unstoppable waves of heat that fire alien mind into the very core
of your being; furnace burns eternal, searing until nothing is left but
that which is the both — /you/ — forever used complete. In a shower of
sparks, the haze clears to the metallic new-forged clatter of total
awareness —

My name is Jeroth! «

Zandria eyes turn back to the deep blue and it's search for it's lifemate,
could her(he) be looking for her, she tries not to miss anything that will
tell for whom e(he) looks.

Cleoandra grins at Trevyn, smiling. "Congratulations," then, her attention
is drawn tothe new hatchling, "Oooh…another green!"

Ryka smiles gently, eyes softening at the new pairs, her fingers tighten on
her weyrmate's in an unconscious squeeze.

Millae takes a step backward away from Trevyn and the bronze, as a thousand
emotions war across her face. Taking her trembling hand, now freed from
his, she holds both of her hands infrontof herself as if afraid to let go
of even that touch.

I sense that Katrineth delves swift to your mind, welcome all amber and

myrrh — «

Janah watch the new hatchling, after cheering for Trevyn, then crosses her
fingers, hoping.

I sense that Zhanth's mind steals warm, dark fire in carefully

welcome through your mind … then is gone. «

Bennal sees it too, now, Trevyn and his bronze, and nods, having expected
no less. He settles at last, except for the feet that must keep moving to
keep from being sandblasted, and faces the hatchlings before him.

Loreli lets out an audible "Oooooo…." Check out those wings!

Gauzy Nubian-Blue Dragonet alights his gaze — there. A dash towards the
one he sees, the one with a mind to link his own. Movement, swifter than

Trevyn laughs at the dark one even as his shorts tear.. "Jeroth! Not you
too?" He drops to his knees and picks the dill fabric from newborn teeth.

Dorianth welcomes, all burbled mint and dill as she squeaks delight

through the links, baby dragons making her croon and simper endlessly. «Hi
hi hi hi» She repeats, over and over and rather loudly. «

Timora sidesteps an overly anxious brown rushing for that tall red-haired
lass slightly behind her. She glances up to see the awe-struck look on
Trevyn's face and smile s too, a slow and queit smile. And then, a flash,
and the next egg explodes forth with it's offspring, another green, thise
one dark as her own eyes. She sighs, her breath sputtering in t..her
throat, a soft sound among the organized chaos around her.

Zandria grins at Janah,"Did you see Trev got a bronze!@ Congrat's Trebyn!"

Janah sighs, "She is so beautful."

Ariana's smile broadens, a nod of approval.

M'ryn chuckles to himself, nodding.

Hieratic Nilotic-Green Dragonet's angular head shifts, nostrils flaring
wide crimson to scent the heated air — those that /wait/ — for her. And
she takes her time leaving those shards, mantling brilliant-brocade wings
wide for the very first, notorious time.

Khalith thrums and rumbles in repetition, greeting all his newest blood and
delighting in the finding of their lifemates. He puffs at the dark hair of
his own.

Sarriskel bounces a last time, to see the Impression 'cross the sands, and
then settles once more. Those long fingers and thumbs work deeper into his
robe; his head bows as if in pensive contemplation of his feet.

Janah takes one slight step toward the green hatchling, whispering
slightly, "oh please."

Kessaly smiles, and squeezes Ryka back. She nestles her head into her
weyrmate's shoulder.

Cleoandra watches the dark green, a gentle smile lighting her face as she
gazes at her. Oops, that burns. She lifts a foot, then the other, cooling
off the soles of her shoes, eyes never leaving the small green.

Rosalth lowrs her head to nuzzle Toria as she wanders up, warbling quietly
under the din.

She should congratulate him. Not that he would notice at this moment. And
she is happy for him. She knew there was a dragon here for him. There had
to be. But Millae's expression can't show that just now as she watches
Trevyn and Jeroth.

Loreli crosses her arms across her chest. If the green hatchling can take
her time, Loreli can wait. So there. Nyah.

Karing whimpers, face a rosy-bright hue, looking almost as if he were being
strangled. His fingers clench on the hem of his robe, unwittingly drawing
it higher again.

Gauzy Nubian-Blue Dragonet comes to stately stop before one, and gaze tilts
up to meet eyes staring at their feet. Minds in tandem, to work? A soft

Zandria watches to emerald green beauty as she wanders,looking.

Anvar shifts his feets, a spray of sand coating his legs to his kness. His
lips part in a breathless smile at Trevyn, "Way to go, Trev." he knows his
friend is too absorbed to really notice - atleast the others were.
Returning sanity and diminishing candidates drive Anvar back towards Bennal
and a skerrick of security.

Streaks of charred surgar criss-cross Piemur's Dream Egg in juicy pattern
of smeared purple and blue.

Sarriskel twitches anew. His gaze flies out of that reverie's depths while
a heel scuds him an inadvertent step away from … blue?

Timora finger.. "s flext..sle…flex, enev in the tightgrip that they have
been laid together. Her eyes follow the second green, almost with a brush
of shyness at the green's triumphant arrival.

I sense that Belisanth's mind coils in a teasing, welcoming dance.

«Happy Hatchingday!» «

Gauzy Nubian-Blue Dragonet follows in step, to gaze into eyes that match
his soul.

Zandria grins at the blue's question, but is it her her want?Her feet
burning she stps lightly in place, hoping to have him look her way.

Hieratic Nilotic-Green Dragonet swifts a scintillant look past Cleoandra's
stare — talons bite into the sands as she supports herself, halting, but
with a faintly ceremonial area all the same. She'd not leave, but there's
one to find — to /claim/ — amongst all the plain white robes that wait.

Janah shakes her head, amazed at the new one's beauty, and grips Zandria's
hand even tighter.

Fresh-Cut Hay Egg sneezes a few more shudders that snap and crackle thin
striations amid the blue-grey and yellow maze.

Toria moves to rub her sweaty hands on her pantleg, then remembers she has
leathers on and frowns slight. Glancing around, she spots a anearby
candidate and reaches out and lightly wipes her hands on his robe. It'll

Bennal steals a glance at the dark near-fuzzy egg that intrigued him from
the first. Did it move? But dragonets plunge for their mates, more
immmediate, and he tries to stay clear.

Ryka smiles down at Kessaly then moves forward to help the newly impressed

Musty Furs Egg has moved, but not for a time; stilled, even now, but for
the fragmented thump at its broad, oblong base.

Cleoandra tries to meet the green's eyes, a sigh as she simply gazes at the
green, then another gentle smile, encouraging.

Zandria grips Janah's hand tightly, and watches the blue, and tries to also
watch the green.

Lysalla remembers to inhale deep breaths from time to time, eyes ever-so
wide despite the almond cast. But where to focus? The sands are a desert of
endless life and movement. She senses more than feels the lingering caress
of her lifemate.

Janah suddenly remembers her feet, and shifts from foot to foot, angrily.

—Blue, all right: the lanky, balding lad trembles to his knees before the
gauzy dragonet, who croons and buts nose to long nose. "Eberth!" S'iskel
cries and embraces his partner.

Timora glimpses the glance between Cleoandra and the green and sucks in a
breath of air. Why did she let herself fall into this dream again. Hands
moved behind her back, she waits, as patiently as one can when under severe
emotional stress.

Kessaly watches her weyrmate now, slight smile tugging at her lips. She
leans over to give her sister's hand a quick squeeze.

I sense that Ysaleth touches young mind with a surproisingly delicate

lick of emotion. » Welcome. «

Ryka steps up and whispers to Trevyn, smiling quietly, gently.
Ryka whispers, "Ready to move off to the side, lad?"

Millae, realizing she's been frozen in place, jumps as the heat of the
sands burn through her thin sandals. With a deep breath she resolutely
turns away from Trevyn and his bronze. Seeing another impression she
summons a smile.

Piemur's Dream Egg senses that now is the pinnacle of baked perfection. Now
is time to experience the succulent pleasure of dreamy, bubbling delight.

Zandria watches as the blue finds his live mate and grins,"CCongrats!"

Piemur's Dream Egg splits entirely open, releasing fluid dark as berry
juice or the waters of Nun and, pale amongst the torrent, a hatchling vivid
as the sky itself.
Lucid Zephyr-Blue Dragonet emerges from his shell.
Currents of color play freely within this blue dragonet's supple hide, as
chaotic as the winds themselves, and even his light, long-boned frame seems
crafted to master the rising thermals. The spacious reach of forequarters
supports his neck's gracious curve, even as hue deepens from cirrus-swept
cobalt through dusk and clearest night-time sky in the clean lines of head
and wondering, wide-set eyes. Shadowed umber and moonveiled ivory crown his
tapered headknobs, the plumage feathering down the length of jaw to stipple
the hidden hollows of his chin. Those browner notes likewise limn the
leading edges of elongated wings in purest amber, resolving into marbleized
cerulean where the light meets sails' unyielding translucency, and sweep
grains of tarnished ochre over an underbelly fraught with indigo's deep
lucidity. Darker yet, midnight stains smoothly hooked talons that tap
relentlessly as desire for borderless space exhibits itself in his ordered
mannerisms: driven to seek but never to subdue.

Rosalth bumps her nose up against the nearby peach egg, giving it a much
needed nudge.

I sense that Dorianth tastes, tendril tickle of dill wafting amusement.

«Lo there little one.» «

Bennal gives S'iskel a quiet thumbs up as he finds his partner.

Dark and darker still, T'vyn nods towards Ryka andleads his new lifemate
off to a quiet corner … "He's hungry. Says my boxers didn't taste good."

Janah gasps as another one hatches, then turns to the hatchlings
approaching, waiting.

Cleoandra oohs at the blue, but her gaze returns to the dark green, smile
curving her lips.

Zandria sees the deep green pause in front of Cleoandra and not wanting
wish ill will hope the green contines her parade further down the line.

Millae catches her favorite egg start to hatch. Not even daring to think
about hoping, she watches the airy blue emerge with an unreadable

Loreli grins. ANother blue. But she's got her eyes on the green one with
the wings. Duh, they all have wings, stupid!

S'iskel gives the thumbs-up right back, and a glassy-eyed grin, and then
begins guiding Eberth's waddle towards the weyrlingmaster's clump.

Janah turns and grins to Millae, "There's your egg, Millae. And, a blue!"

The release of the Zephyr from it's shards catches Toria's eye. "Oh how

Lucid Zephyr-Blue Dragonet arrives, cloaked in wingsails that already flare
and billow as sweeps forth from shell's shards to experience his awakening
to this wondrous cavern.

Kessaly smiles. Blue. A superior color. Just ask her.

Wine Cellar Egg quivers, cobwebs trembling in fragile collusion. Rose and
white quiver, dry in sands immense heat.

Plain, yes, but the green — Hieratic, Nilotic — will evidently cope.
Further onto the sands, then, those wings flexed in fullest panoply…
admittedly, also, for balance, and she draws near — past her indigo
brother — the line of women. Dark-haired, redhead, blonde, yes; but more
important, the minds she recognizes.

Chafing sandals. Anvar bends and worries the leather strap to his sandals,
sand, heat and friction working wonders on his ankles. He smiles tightly,
bursts the the blister with a grimace and stands tentatively. "Look the one
that looks like they splashed a skin of Benden over it is moving, Ben!"
This is Anvar's personal favourite, in case his reaction hadn't given him

Cleoandra looks at the green, eyes sparkling with hope.
Please-please-please, come to me! A tiny bounce, a shifting of burned feet,
all but forgotten in the excitement.

Janah smiles as the little green comes closer, "Come here little one, she
whispers, gripping Zand's hand.

Loreli crooks her finger at Hieratic…you know, the one with the wings.

A gentle zephyr indeed as quickly, quietly the blue dragonet gusts across
the sands, intent with purpose. His link to /freedom/ is here.

Millae watches the elegant blue that emerged from her egg with a bemused
expression. Unwilling to let herself even think of the possibility she
turns to look among her friends to see who he will go to.

Timora takes a hesitant step forward half to avoid a careening dragonet
behind her, and half to be closer for a momment, brief as it may be, to the
green as it passes by. Her heart seeems to pause as she watches, breathless
and fearful.

Bennal nods , finding himself near Anvar. ""It did move," he agrees,
sparing that egg a serious study.

Zandria grips Janah's hand as the proud green beauty head their way,
shifting her burning feet, the sweat pouing freely down her nose, she leans
toward the emerald grr(green one.

Janah stands tall, breathing deeply, unafraid, but curious. Will it pick

Musty Furs Egg tosses her head, serpentine, demanding: she halts, spotting
wide blue eyes and all their lack of innocence. /Here/.

Hieratic Nilotic-Green Dragonet tosses her head, serpentine, demanding: she
halts, spotting wide blue eyes and all their lack of innocence. /Here/.

A brown — carnelian translucent — emerges in a rush of dappled wings. A
moment's searching brings him squarely before a harper lad. And then they
are one.

Janah tries to follow the green's gaze.

Toria hooks her finger under her collar, and tugs. Sure is tight. Little
tiny beads of sweat pitter off the end of her nose, maybe she shouldn't
have worn leather?

Green splits wide yet another egg, shoving rude passage through a couple
blues which haven't as yet chosen lifemates. Silly boys, always indecisive.
/She/ knows who she wants—/that/ one. That shivering boy who looks like he
needs a handkerchief more than a dragon. Wel, she's no handkerchief, but…
he's perfect.

Anvar watches the gusty little blue waft across the sands. "They're not
so.." Tenor drops to a whisper, "ugly …once you get used to them…" he
mutters to Bennal, glancing surreptitiously at Rosalth, a flicker of guilt
lighting his eyes.

Zandria stand s stock still, watching the green's everymove ment.

Ariana is firmly comfortable in her sleeveless arrangement. And green eyes
cast out about the sands, watching with an every brighter smile.

Loreli moves her hands, placing them on her hips. She taps her foot
impatiently in the sands. No, /you/ come /here/.

Enough waiting. The time is now. With one last aristocrastic shudder,
Vanilla Egg sends slivers of shell spewing into the sands.

Cleoandra, heat forgotten, stares at the lovely green dragonet, sweat upon
her brow. Pick me…please? A smile curves her lips.

Arien's wearing leathers, but hardly notices; jacket's tossed over one
shoulder, held fast by one stained-dark hand. They're /choosing/.

Rosalth heard that, oh yes, and lowers her head towards Anvar, eyes
whirling a rainbow of colors. Lucky she can't actually /reach/ the

Bennal puts a hand on Anvar's' shoulderencouragement or hushing?and
then removes it. Anvar's nervous, he can tell by the sweat. "They're just
good, Anvar, and that's a fact."

Vanilla Egg sweetens the wait with a shiver, a shudder, a tremor that
stretches — stretches — breaks, and the resultant flood of shardlets and
amniotic fluid pours ivory and isinglass about the green dragonet now
blooming from the scattered ruins.
Verdant Oasis-Green Dragonet emerges from her shell.
Glimpsed promises reveal themselves in her hide's grassy green splendor,
verdant relief set against everlasting grains. Those wingsails ruffle like
palm fronds, feathered and dark; stylized edges arc and sway, brushing
against the illusory promise of her hue. Softened sweep of underbelly
curves a hammock's swag in aereated teal; steady paws and snake-sharp tail
lend her grounding in truth. Gold to blue, brown to bronze, she settles, at
last, on green: forever, always and beyond.

Janah turns to the green, wondering.

Lucid Zephyr-Blue Dragonet weaves through sands' currents, cupping amber
and cobalt wings to his long-boned frame, a cloak or perhaps a furled sail
made ready to catch the barest of breezes.

Zandria watches the green make her pick, who is it to be>

Janah cannot keep up with the hatchlings, and looks at everyone and

Hieratic Nilotic-Green Dragonet might. She just might. Since she was coming
in that direction anyway — the call spirals out, willful for all the
awkward step of new-hatched dragon: you'll /know/.

Cleoandra ohs at the new green, eyes flicking from one to the other,
silver-grey eyes stormy with indecision, with nervousness. Oh, her feet!
Heat remembered, she lifts one, not the other.

Kh'rys just grins at all the greens, standing comfortable in thick
bootsohh, yes, /thickon the sands. Nevermind that most clutches usually
/do/ have a lot og greens. They're always wonderful. Every dragon is.

Verdant Oasis-Green Dragonet sniffs disdainfully. She moves her head slowly
to gaze across the sands, the clumisness that is usually apparent in most
newly-hatched does not affect her. She is serene.

Millae clutches her hands to her chest as she looks around her for who's
attracting the precious dragonets. Thoughts dart in all directions of the
wind as she looks from face to face, occasionaly glancing at the dragonets.

Zandria slips out of her sandals slick with sweat to land on the burning
sands thmselves, barely feeling it, waatching the green.

Musty Furs Egg smokes anew with fragmenting shards. Take it easy, aye;
slow, steady, savour and smolder, and one dark talon's puncture seeps egg
fluid into those sands.

A deep russet brown bugles triumphantly as he rams a happless boy from
behind, leaving him sprawling in the sands. He crawls on top of the young
man and bugles again. The lad, with a hissed oath, manages to boost the
dragonet to one side before meeting his vibrant, whirling eyes. Shocked
into imobility, the lad kneels on the sands, eyes locked with the
hatchling's until another bumps them out of their raport. The young man
hurries the brown off to one side.

Still the zephyr blows over the sands, quiet and gentle — intent all the
same. Lucid Zephyr-Blue Dragonet approaches a gathering of robed
candidates, inclining his plumed head to a stirring of pale russet.

Timora's glance is ripped away from the other to land, squarely on the next
green, all colors and one. She watr..watches, quite uncalm now, her hands
wringing, knucl..knuckles poping with the strain of complicated joints. But
te..the dragonet id.. is calm. Perhaps she c..sop..should take the tacit
advice from that new green beauty. She gathers herself, visably, and stands
tall, her eyes raising briefly to see the face of her twin.

Anvar smiles wryly at Bennal and shuts him up with a friendly elbow to the
ribs. "Aye…" Sweeping green tries to tally the odds on his little side
investments. He's quite noticeably in front with the amount he laid on
Trevyn. His smile widens with the thought of claiming his winnings.
Mentally he shakes himself and focuses on the ripples of green and blue
questing about him.

Janah cannot stop looking from dragonet to dragonet, especially the green
near us, who will get them? she murmurs.

Loreli continues to tap her foot, oblivious to the heat of the sands.
Imagine if she didn't find that pair of sandles at the last minute, though.
tly, and smiles a congratulations at Loreli as she turns to the Verdant
green, hoping, wishing. C'mon! Her voice is soft, "There're so … lovely
… "

Millae is missing some faces behind her, so she turns slightly, back to the
eggs, to see who's still dragonless. Shifting her feet unconsciously she
suddenly watches the green decisively announce her possision of Loreli.
Staring with wide eyes, a smile flickers across her mouth. Fitting.

Loreli flashes a broad grin, and wraps her arms around the green's neck,
"Hiya Kismeth."

Zandria grins as the green find Loreli,"She'll have her wings full, "she
giggles to Janah.To Loreli,"Congrats!

Two eggs engage in Hatching courtship: shells tip-tap together, shy kisses,
and then faster and faster, blue against yellow, yellow against blue. Blue
wins, in a crumple around the green that lunges from within a few seconds
faster than her blue sib. The pair course in opposite directions and end
side by side once more before a pair of boys, who stare at each other, then
their new mates.

Janah gigles, then turns to the verdant green and blue, smiling.

I bespoke FortWeyr with: Jeroth shifts a shadowy tendril rich with newly

hatched brassy wonder outward over all within his dreamy grasp. «

Janah shifts feet nervously, hands sweating, watching the dragonets pair
off, waiting for hers to come if it will.

How soon they forget. Rosalth lifts her head above the masses to peer
longingly out at the sky. Dutifully she turns back to her hatching,
warbling now and again greetings to her young.

Bennal bites his lip as fate brings Loreli and Kismeth together. There
bodes trouble,, like enough, but for now, "She's a wonder, Loreli."

Zandria turns to weatch the other green make her way accross the sands,
suddenly the blisters on her feet make thmselves known and she put the
sandals back on.

Timora raises a hand to her brow, flicking away the beaded sweat gathering
there. Her eyes searchm, and find the verdent green, watching, silent and
unsure, but a..still tall and sturdy. She chews gently on her lower lip,
now the only outward sign of the nervousness that invades her. Perhaps not
true nervousness, just anticipation and quiet exct..excitment.

Verdant Oasis-Green Dragonet extends her long neck gracefully and takes a
few steps. She is in no hurry. Her /one/ is here, somewhere. She will not
digrace herself by running, by snorting, by….wait! Her /one/ is there!
She hears her voice! Trembling slightly, the aristocratic green moves
around another egg, nostrils quivering.

Crackle, crackle, split, boom, bang! Shards go flying hither and thither as
a burly blue forces his way clear. Outta my way, ouitta my way, gotta find
a lifemate, and it's a tough decision, ya know. Even if the sixty-odd
hasdiminished by a good bit—lots left. He meanders here and there and with
little fanfare descends upon a short-statured boy.

The Blue Zephyr ceases, blowing now only for the pale, searching girl
before him. Such russet and auburn hues will catch the sun's light. Those
wide eyes caress as marbleized cerulean draws forth to drape her in wing's
embrace. A cloak of wingsail to lift upwards.

Janah grins as the verdant one stretches out her neck, ready for anything.
She watches her approach the girls, smiling, sweating gently.

Cleoandra looks longingly at the verdant green, silvery gaze glowing with
hope. Come to me…she shifts gracefully, heat searing her feet, but gaze
never leaving the little green.

Karing scratches absently, then perks up, sparks of tourmaline flashing as
he wiggles uncomfortably on the sands.

Musty Furs Egg unfolds in crumpling sable shards, tinier fragments
irrevocably infesting the sands as the dragonet within takes some time to
extricate himself from the pile-up: glyphed wingtips catch awkwardly in
sands and goo, and rising garnet eyes whirl swift, instinctive need to find
the Name.
Steadfast Cartouche-Bronze Dragonet emerges from his shell.Cryptic shadow
torcs this small dragonet's sinewy neck, knotted at its base in heritage's
complexity; a pulse beats there, swift and uncertain, in that tender hollow
of wrapped, enrapt bronze. Similar intaglios rune the sweep of his outsized
wings, near-ebon against his rich and thickly smoked hide sheened all slick
as oil. Compact, clean-cut forequarters sleek to lean
haunches and whipcord tail's exploratory curve, twisting in the same
quizzical arc as the lift of his clear-eyed, tilt-eyed head — a full
circle transfixed in a splinter of newborn time.

Zandria watches the Zephyr make his progress among the candidates.

Millae remains oblivious as she watches Loreli and the green with longing
in her eyes. Caught up in the moment, she sighs softly and frees her hands
to run fingers through her wildly loose hair, completely undone from it's

Toria quickly backs outof the way of a bumbling dragonet, and backs into
Kessaly, smiling an appology.

Anvar finds the hatchling dance enchanting, forgetting even the heat of the
subterranean furnace that warms, nay scalds his feet through the flimsy
soles of his sandals. 'Always knew the Weyrtanner was hopeless' intrudes
the thought into Anvar's dreamy contemplation. He peers at his sandals and
visibly stumbles as his minds reconnects with his body. "Whoah…" Loreli!
He can only manage a smile for his fellow harper apprentice. THe sands are
taking their toll.

Timora views the verdent green with a bit of silent awe, quivering with the
whole strain of standing for so long in the heat. But is it truly so long,
it seems only minutes ago that all were lounging on cots or doing chores/
She turns, glimpsing bronze from the corner o f her own, dark green eyes,
and turns back, tucking a lock of icy blond hair behind an ear.

Kessaly grins, and winks at Toria.

Silvery grey eyes shift toward the brown, lips curling at him, then
returning the little green. Cleoandra's neck straightens as she gazes at
her. I'm the one, aren't I? I hope? Please?

Janah glances at the bronze, then goes back to green, devouring her curves
with her eyes. But, the heat is getting to her and the length.

Wine Cellar Egg moves decicively now: wine rumbles within, as more cracks
begin to haze it. Bone dry, now, baked within hatching heat.

Ryka steps between pairs and gently urges them to the sides of the sand,
with all the patience of a foster-mother.

Bennal sees it, oh yes, the egg-that-was transformed into bronze young
life. ""Anvar, look at him."

Lucid Zephyr-Blue Dragonet drapes his translucent wing about Millae,
drawing close to indigo and ochre, losing himself in the tangle of russet.

Smatterings of shadow and moon marking the pinnacle of his head as he bends
his gracious neck to her.
Lucid Zephyr-Blue Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Millae.

Karing sighs, uncomfortable with full bladder, he crosses his legs.

With the disdainful look that is typical of her lifemate, Kismeth shuffles
off to the side with Loreli at Ryka's urging.

Zandria shifts painfully on her burnt feet, watching impressions happening
all about her, but not to her. The tunic is pasted to her body with sweat
and she longs for the coolness of a drink, she will not budge until there
isn't a shell left uncracked and a dragon unclaimed.

Janah cries out, "Congrats Millae!"

Toria thinks she'll bump into Kessaly more often. Snuggy. Regretfully she
moves forward out of the rider's way.

T'vyn finally gets a break from shoving raw meat into Jeroth's gaping maw,
and spies Loreli with.. a green?! "Oh Jeroth, don't look."

Cleoandra's eyes flick to the /bronze/, he is lovely, but she is so
lovely…she, the green. A sigh, of longing, of hope hidden not far within.

Precious as jewels, rare as gold, costly as amber, pure as silver - all
this and more is the /one/ that the delicate green dragonet seeks. She
calls, her voice ringing with command, suprising in one so young. Her eyes
roam, and light upon her /one/. Slowly, she threads her way through
numerous white robes, oblivious, the cry a croon now.

Steadfast Cartouche-Bronze Dragonet lifts his head, widens wings and
quickens gaze at once; one paw reaches foreward, one exploratory step.

Zandria cries out <'Congratulations Millae"

Janah follows the croon of the little green, wistfully.

Lysalla watches all the bumping, hatching impressing with a smile.. a
/large/ smile.

Loreli winks at T'vyn as she reaches the side. Heh. This could be fun later
on. At about the same time, Kismeth sidles up next to Jeroth. Funny how
they think so much alike, eh?

Zandria eyes follow the green's movements, her lips part as a sli(silent
prayer issues forth.

Cleoandra opens her mouth, smile lighting her face. Where is she going? Is
she coming to me? Or one of the others? Please let it be me…

Millae stumbles as the wing wraps around her. Falling onto her knees she
gazes in stark amazement at the wispy blue face staring endlessly into her
eyes, "Y.. you sp…spoke t.. to me? Ph… Phelth?"

Janah follows Zandria's glance, both staring at the little green.

Karing bites his lip, oh aaaagoooonny, he's gotta go! Sweat trickles down
his forehead, hair falling over it again.

Zandria gris Janah's hand and stares at the green beauty.

T'vyn leaps to his feet and lets loose a resounding *Whoohoo*!! "Congrats

Timora's eyes too, are follwoing the green who makes her statley way across
the searing sands. Nothing she cn do, save watch it with every scrap of
hope that she a..posesses. A breath, and then another, as she waits for one
that will stay with her as long as her lungs fill and empty.

Millae says it again in amazement as she puts trembling hands on either
side of the draconic face before her, "/Me/?"

Janah grips back, both watching the green, murmuring hopeful phrases.

Anvar swivels. A widening of green pools. "Another bronze…" Anvar is
wonderful at stating the bleeding obviously. His heat befuddled gaze flicks
back to the Wine Cellar egg, to the bronze, a poor lonely brown creeling
for his mate closer to the entrance, to Bennal and then back to the sands.
He smiles laxly, the product of a severe lack of sleep in the last few
days. "He's very…" Anvar's voice trails off, unable to think of anything
suitably earth shattering and knowing that Bennal may be scandalised at his
less that erudite thoughts of the moment. "Millae!" Anvar takes the
distraction with open arms.

Bennal takes a step forward. Impressions occur all round him, and later he
will regret that he was not aware of each. But. Now. Now the brown egg is
open, and a bronze looking for the right man. "Me." And this, too, like
Zandria's is fervent as prayer.

Zandria shifts her feet and watches the greens progress murmering her
prayer over and over,"Please let it be me, let it be me.'

Verdant Oasis-Green Dragonet stops upon the sands, whirling eyes fixed upon
the silver eyes of the /one/. She croons, softly, delicate neck extended.
She trembles ever so slightly, as a wave of love, of desire, of sheer
adoration racks her frame. Come to me. Come closer. A cloud of black hair
and a graceful figure stands before her. Her /one/. Her queen, her beauty,
her jewel.

Janah adds her hymn to Zandria's, "oh please, oh please"

Wine Cellar Egg shifts again; a shard falls free, now.

Timora sighs, y..eyes sad and almost empty as she turns back to survey the
scene of mottled eggshards.

Karing blinkblinks, leans forward a little, a little wherry necked, he is,
but he forgets and uncrosses his legs, brow raised quizzically.

Cleoandra blinks as her eyes meet the greens, and once more her lips curve
into a smile, soft. A hesitant step closer? Is that what she needs? A tiny
step, not very far, towards the green. Then another.

Shards splinter aside as a medium-sized brown enters into the world.
Lifting up a conformed muzzle, he looks around, then suddenly bolts off to
the edge of the sands. Running off? No, running to. Running to the one,
umber wings brushing together as they flare.

Fresh-Cut Hay Egg rocks steadily now; shards flake but slow and few,
however, maintaining sun-dusty cohesion. For now.

Janah looks to Zandria and Timora, anxiously.

Morning Klah Egg wobbles clumsily and a piece of shell goes flying with a
loud *POP*.

Toria's eyes twinkle in the lights of the cavern, as she glances over
towards the group of newly impressed.

A sudden swivelled motion; the bronze shies, but continues even so,
steadfast, the cartouche 'round his neck dark recognizance of name. Of
name. And he continues towards that goal, that — /response/. One,
matching, step at a time.

Verdant Oasis-Green Dragonet breathes out in exultation as her /one/ steps
nearer. She leans closer until her muzzle is level with her /one's/ chest.
She croons softly.

Janah sighs as the other woman with black hair impresses the little green.

Morning Klah Egg suddenly fragments in a pool of brown shards, freeing a
darker dragonet from his sepulchre.

Eternally Entombed-Brown Dragonet emerges from his shell.
Near to indistinct from the Sands' pale hue he rises, wrapped in shrouds of
linen-pale dessication. Discrete umber cobwebs the breadth of delicate
wingsails as they tremble in fledgling spread, shadowed by age's depths;
ash settles at talons' curve and tail's tip, darkening to time-yellowed
bone. Sagacious wisdom infuses every movement, sinewy solidity moving him
despite the fragile stretch of tenuous hide, and arrowed gaze stabs: direct
and soul-searching, richly scintillant pools drowning-dark within ancient

Ryka pads quietly through the pairs, hugging those ex-candidates she knows,
and scritching her expert scritch over new dragonet eyeridges.

Verdant Oasis-Green Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Cleoandra.

Phelth lifts his head and gently nudges Millae in complete reassurance.
Yes, /her/. With a soft croon he proclaims his hunger, urging her to lead
him off to the side.

Zandria worries, the eggs are diminishing, the dragon's pairing, and so far
none has looked her way,She squeezes Janah's hand and smiles sadly.

Janah squeezes back, eyes filling with tears, wondering if her one is here,
for her, and her alone.

Loreli smiles at Ryka as the weyrlingmaster approaches. Truce?

For now?

Bennal licks dry lips and stands, waiting. It isn't calm. Its' paralysis.

Cleo looks down, silver eyes shining like the burnished silvery of a moon.
She kneels, putting her arms around the green. "Oh…you're so lovely,

Eternally Entombed-Brown Dragonet looks startled, and with a loud *HONK*
stumbles out of his shell. On to the sand. Nose first. Oooh. Hurts.

Karing sighs. Well. Now what should he do? He's gotta go, but if he
leaves…well, he has to stay for now, oh hurry. Gotta go!

Wine Cellar Egg flakes more, now, as wooden shell begins to find its match
in try heat and wet washes.

Anvar crosses his arms and merely stands there. He lost control the moment
the thrumming of the dragons began. Objectively, and as a harper, the
thrill of dragon singing shivers down his spine, on the threshhold between
sound and sensation, but Anvar lost objectivity in the first waves of
sweltering heat. "Please…" he entreats, more for the entire event to be
over than any prayer to the little hatchlings.

Timora glances at the eternal curiously as it collapses, almost shaked
..shaken out of her nervousness by the thump.

Ryka shrugs and steps forward, catching Loreli up in a big bearhug, a
whispered, "Congrats."

Zandria startle out of herself pity at the clumsy movemen t of the brown.

Of the dwindling supply of eggs, two smash abruptly together—a blue and a
green enter into life together. Too bad they don't find lifemates together.
Well, exactly together. You might call it together. They find them at the
same time, but… at opposite ends of the semicircle.

Steadfast Cartouche-Bronze Dragonet moves, still, pace by pace, caught by
no medusa's gaze: not dauntless, but wide-eyed wondering. Just a little
closer, a little, between the men to he who rises as a sun in his mind's
eye. Towards the light.

Karing snorts a hoarse bark of laughter, then claps a hand over his mouth.
He shouldn't laugh at the poor little brown. He really shouldn't. Nope.

Millae shakily makes her way toward the other pairs, a look of complete
disbelief in her eyes. But that doesn't stop the incredulously bright smile
that crookedly plants itself on her face. Muttering to herself, she says
the name of her lifemate over and over again to herself.

Cleo strokes the green, and walks beside her gracefully towards the side,
kneeling once more to look wonderingly into her eyes. Almost unconsciously,
she starts feeding her.

Well, Loreli may be at a cease-fire with Ryka now, but no one told Kismeth
that. She butts her green head into Ryka's leg. Take that! And that!

Janah giggles slightly at the little brown, then smiles, watiting for her
one to come.

Ryka grins and scritches the butting green, a slight grin at Loreli tips
the corners of her mouth mischieviously.

Eternally Entombed-Brown Dragonet blinks, and snorts sand out of his nose.
Bewildered, he looks around. Where am I? Where….oh! Hey! He scrambles
clumsily to his feet, and makes a beeline to a conspiciously flapping robe,
honking the whole way. Lurching, he smacks into another blue. Whoops.
Sorry. Pardon. I'm looking for someone! He teeters on.

Zandria grins around her tears of self pity, that brown is precious,
someone is going to have joy with him beside them,"Look at that brwon, I
wonder who will be so lucky to get him?"she whispers to Janah

Bennal's wonder grows in mythic proportions. He's perfect, Another step,
towards the bronze. He knows better. But maybe. "I'm here."

T'vyn motions towards Millae to join them with this really silly look
plastered across his face. He even ventures a smile for Loreli… gah, he
must be nuts. All thoughts of dill green shorts exposed to the world
forgotten… even with the newly added attraction of dragon teeth marks.
Eyes fall to Jeroth and he nods before launching into a personal one on one

conversation with the burnt-black fellow.

Karing tries not to laugh, full bladders and laughter do not mix. Besides,
where is that /draft/ coming from? He peers around at his rear.

Timora winces at the klutzy brown, wondering in her own silent way about
the continuance.

Janah smiles amongst tears, "I hope so, I hope so, I hope someone."

Kismeth looks up at Loreli. See? I've got your back.

Zandria again points out the clumsey brown to Janah,"He's ge(great!"

Cleo peers over at T'vyn, and manages a smile as she stares down at
Antonyth. Joy lights her face, and she can't help but bounce, smiling.

Tulon retruns from wahtevr daze it was that had kept him dazed so long,
watching with a sooft smile….so much goign on that it is hard not to be

Phelth croons in a gust of mental delight as he nudges his awkward

across the sands. «

Anvar wobbles, a rocking motion that seems mimic the rocking of the eggs.
The eggs hatched now, Anvar rocks only to alternate the heat on the pads of
his feet. Blisters pull at his brain, Heat warps his senses and fatigue
fills his mind. "Bennal, you snore, you know!" he declares, a trifle
unhinged and trying to seek an outlet for it. His sleep-starved mind
settles on Bennal, hence his unusual accusation.

* Shutting down: shutdown signal received *
[And from around the world, 50+ people said 'Oh shhhh….' At the same
[Interlude was spent at TooMUSH - until DF was running again. The hatching
built up momentum again pretty quickly after restart]

Toria lifts her head to peer over the field of eggs, and smiles as a young
farmer girl impress a green.

Fresh-Cut Hay Egg rocks back again, way back, with the advent of that new
brown. Its own shell, of course, remains quite intact for all the mazing
cracks shuddered through….

Janah smiles, happily at the new brown, resuming her prayerful speaking.

Millaefinally lifts her incredulous, wide emerald eyes from Phelth's eyes
to give a broadly crooked grin to T'vyn and then to glance over toward

Tulon smiles broadly as his cousin impresses , calling out "Well done
Millae" then turns back to watch the other eggs, and the hatchings, the
hope and the dispair and wonder wirritn on candiidates faces as they too
wait, hopeful

Timora's eyes sweep over the few remaining eggs, what haven't hatched, and
then her gaze moves across the dragonets stumbling from shells shattered
and left behind on the sands. She bites tightly down on her lip, fingers
curling taught, as she watches the hatchlings move towards the row of
white-clad figures.

A swirl of green — prismatic eyes flashing — rushes towards a young
weyrgirl in her first time on the Sands. Her cry is surprised and joyous,
and she dissolves into tears as she wraps her arms around her new mate's

Bennal, in ddelayed reaction, denies automatically. "I do not snore." Then
he shakes his head. "I don't think. " A pause. "Is he looking at me, do you

Rosalth swings her head back in forth in some distant rhythm, unheard.

Karing toddles unsteadily, knees crossed tightly. Ooooh Faranth, he looks
around for a good spot to stand still, this sand is hot!

T'vyn pulls Jeroth off to the side and throws a companionable arm over his
neckridge.. "Now, we need to have a talk about /The/ hair here… 'always'
protect the hair, k? There's a good fella…"

Janah looks to the new brown, hoping he turns her way.

He's perfect. Another step. Closer, then, to fullest recognition, wingtips
dragging despite his conscious desire for swiftness. The cartouche bronze's
muzzle lifts, nearing the pair: he's looking, yes, at them, if with only
eyes for one.

Cleo chuckles in her low contralto at T'vyn, then wraps her arms around
Antonyth, nodding to herself.

Tulon gives an amused laugh at Trev…er T'vyn's words..what is it with the
hair? Pity he didn't have his head shaved one night, but that is neither
here, not there, not with the exitment going on around….hopefully looking

Zandria has connected.

Bennal forgets feedt, Anvar, all. Forgets breathing. Forgets life itself,
maybe, except just this moment. This now.

Karing bends over again, stupid sandle. He adjusts the sandle, robe
flipping up in the back, providing several onlookers with a perfect view of
two of Perns moons.

Janah smiles softly, clutching Zand's hand, hopefully looking to the brown,
litany of pleases following her sight.

Tulon smiles as he watches the determined brown dragonet - not somethign
you'd wish to get in front of…a dragon that -knows- where it is
going…you'd get trampled before you could move.

Millae turns her eyes back to Phelth as he engages her in silent
conversation. An amazed smile of affection lights up her face as she nods
and whispers backk to him.'

Zandria grins as she watches the clumsey brown's progress,"He seems to know
who he wants anyway."She whispers to Janah and gives the hand a light

The peach egg just sits there, unmoving and silent.

Anvar turns to face Bennal, fire flaring, seeming to leap from the
sparkling shards and the sands into Anvar's eyes. Distraction. His eyes
glint joyfully. "You do, too, Bennal…Louder the the Hall drum tower!" Hey

grumbles in disgust at Bennal's preoccupation.

Wine Cellar Egg shivers, held together now by steel bands. Wine splashes,
froths.. spills.

Timora stands silently in her claimed corner of the sands, but for a muted
whisper said under her breath. She fixes her gaze on first one, then
another of the dragonets, her eyes returning constantly to the few greens
waddling and slipping accross the sands, but always returning to rest on
the unhatched eggs, which shake and crack yet haven't - yet -

Toria snickers at Bennal and Anvar, her eyes flicking to the galleries to
see if they heard.

Eternally Entombed-Brown Dragonet gathers speed, looking nothing so much
like a crazed wherry, wings dragging and high pitched honking emitting from
his muzzle. He gets nearer and nearer to his lifemate…wait! Too near!

Frantically trying to stop, the brown slams into a gawky figure, exposing
him for the world to see.

Janah grins at the brown's crash, then turns to the wine egg.

This now. The steadfast, cartouche-bronze dragonet rocks back on his
haunches, velvet-soft muzzle matted as was his egg's coloration with
egg-fluid and bits of shards; a single protective note rumbles deep from
his throat, and before Anvar can draw any closer, gaze finds gaze.

Steadfast Cartouche-Bronze Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Bennal.

Zandria shifts lightly on her hot burned feet all eyes now on that sweet
clumsy brown,Who does he want?"She whispers to Janah?"Hoping against hope
it's her.

Karing suddenly goes sprawling, gawky limbs flailing in a scramble of arms,
legs and flopping robe. A startled yelp squeaks out, "Hey!!!!"

Millae looks up as she hears the thrum of the crowd rise. Scanning the
sands she smiles and whispers to Phelth as she points out Bennal and /his/
bronze to him.

Janah smiles, "Congrats, Bennal!", then turns to look at the remaining
eggs, and the last dragonet hatched, eyes dry, and sighs, wistfully.

Eternally Entombed-Brown Dragonet crouches over his choice. Honks happily.

Bennal's eyes lock with the bronzes, and a slow smile spreads across his
face. "Yes, you are Byzanth. And "I'm Ben. Bennal. And we're ours."

Cleo chuckles throatily, nodding at Antonyth, and whispers back to her.

Zandria smiles at Bennal's luck,"Congrats Bennel!"

Anvar cocks his head and blinks. "How extraordinary." The fight goes out of
him, scattered by a dawning smile for his snoring friend.

Tulon smiles wistfully as he watches more impressions being made, and calls
out congratulations…and looks back to every shrinking pile of eggs.
Shrinking too fast, it seems, as the moment slips away..

Janah watches the last (2?) eggs rock, wistfully clutching Zandria's hand,

Eternally Entombed-Brown Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Karing.

Fresh-Cut Hay Egg crazes with cracks near indistinguishable from the
striations that cover it, losing bits of emerald and gold into crumbled
dust suddenly swept away into faienced blue-quartz brilliance.
Scarab Faience-Blue Dragonet emerges from his shell.
Anthracite talons bite implacable capture of this stoic blue dragonet's
footing, and anchor the splayed star of his attenuated lower limbs and
tail's blunted jut. Leggy he is, and delicate of paw and head, but solidly
and ovally carved under a hide that glows the even blue-green of polished
faience. Dawning from inevitable shadows, a patina of glassine brilliance
sparkles in eternal renewal over all, from the seal of iridescence under
his belly and carapace of wings, to the rainbows realized in his grave and
convex eyes.

Toria beams a congradulatory grin at Bennal, that is quickly followed up
with a bugle of delight from Byzanth's mother.

Karing blinks, tourmaline orbs blinking, "You're mine? Well! Why didn't you
say so?!"

Kessaly sneaks over to her sister and slips an arm around her waist,

Lysalla hugs Kessaly close, smiling languidly.

Janah sighs as another blue hatches, then points, "Look Zand! Another
blue!" The litany starts again.

Wine Cellar Egg follows just steps behind its clutchmate.

T'vyn hollers out a "Congrats Ben!"

Wine Cellar Egg loses its cork-hued cap in a splash of punch-drunk shards,
revealing the reaching, pale glint of a talon within. And then bottles
crumble away, leaving a pool of mixed wines and, at last, the arid vintage
aged within its oak-panelled tones
Parched Desert-Bronze Dragonet emerges from his shell.Aridity and amber
conjoin to one: dust-dry hues arch predominant along the angular reach of
neck and spine, the high-vaulted stretch of wings. Rough-hewn is he, all
buffed-off angles and wind-polished lines; burnt sandstone timbres bronze
from taint to polish, a golden-limned medley from wingspars to withers.
Flat underbelly darkens, though, in flooded wasteland splendor: crimson and
copper, green and grain, they all race along sepia striations that crack
then congeal, an explosion of desert's rarest bloom.

K'ing grins and fumbles his way up to crouch next to his lifemate,
"Tuth!!!" He doesn't notice his robe has flipped up…again.

Tulon murmurms a soft ooh..as the blue breaks free…from egg that reminded
of childhood, and almost takes a step forward, then raises an
eyebrow…another bronze? Wow.

Zandria grins and nods,"Maybe we still have a chance!"Hoope glimmers as she
watches the blue shed his shell and eys glimmer at his rainbow hue.

Ryka shepherds the newest lot over to the edge of the sands, she herself
just barely getting out of the way of a charging blue.

A weak smile goes to Bennal as the steadfast bronze makes his choice.
Timora straightens her back, a depressed determination across her face. A
corner of the hem of her s..gown is caught in one hand, blinking. A quick,
pleading glance turns to the stands, to where her sister is sitting. Sharp
eyes pick out the figure of her identicle twin, and she smiles
half-heartedly. But despite this, she takes a deep sigh, resisting the urge
to let her knees
collapse under her, and stares out onto the nearly empty sands.

Janah clutches Zandria's hand, as a bronze hatches, "A blue," She steps
softly toward the blue, hope shimmering softly, wondering if it is /her/,
her. :)

Grave Scarab-Blue Dragonet rolls out in a goo-blurred ball that rapidly
untangles into gawky, wild-eyed coherence, and the hatchling lurches free
of lingering shardlets.

Janah breathes softly, expectantly, hopefully.

I bespoke Phelth with: I sense that Jeroth wafts shimmering shadows of

amusement and brotherly affection «As does He of She.. » «

Zandria shift and strains her whole body, leaning, listing almost in the
blue's dierction, the bronze is not for her, but he glory of that blue
would be a joy to to embrace.

Parched Desert-Bronze Dragonet lifts his frame up from flood of acidic
shards. Angular steps — rugged grace — he steps quickly forth,
determination evidenced within ambered hues.

Janah eyes alight with joy, watching the little blue walk across the sands,

Bennal edges toward the side of the sands with Byzanth, getting out of the
way of all the other pairs.

Tulon glances quickly to the others - not many left standing…but then,
neither are there many dragonets left either…the hatching slowly dwindles
to a close…and he watches and hopes, eyes flicking from one hatchling to

Anvar sees his support base vanishing quicker than a herbeast devoured by
thread - not that he's seen thread, nor wants to, but he knows his harper
ballads :} Sidestepping, he bumps into Janah, scrabbles for her spare hand
and notices his favourite egg has divulged a Bronze! A burble of laughter
tumbles from his lips. "That's my egg," he announcs with a proprietry
timbre to his voice. The laughter is followed by a deprecating twist to his

lips. His egg? Sheesh. Anvar what happened to that bet of yours…Big money
against you. Sanity asserts it's dominance. He steps back. 10 marks is a
lot of money.

A fumbled step, a sidelong tilt, but the brilliant scarab-blue has already
found his focus, which draws him on, on through these treacherous sands.
Delicate paws lift high and swift to carry him towards a cluster of mixed
female and male whiterobes.

Janah glances at the blue once more, hoping beyond hope, then turning as
Anvar hits her, "Sorry," then turns to the blue heading headlong for their

Janah glows with hope as the last little blue heads toward them, mutter,
"Oh, Zand, he's perfect."

Tulon watches, knowing nothing he does can change events that will
transpire - for the dragons have already ,anf their choice, and will search
til they find…teh best he can do it move into a position that enable one
to find him easily - if one is searching for him…hands tighten upon his
whit robes, sweaty and white knuckled.

Parched bronze's gaze travels through: not many left. And yet.. still, the
tug. Eyes rivit, seek out, and search: he /senses/ him. Hatchling steps
scrabble forward.

Ryka smiles over at her weyrmate, grinning over the heads of a young pair.

Zandria holds her breath and silently murmers her prayer as the rainbow
hues blue makes his progress toward the group she is a part of,she leans so
far forward she almost falls, stumbleing on to the sands. Catching her
balance and holding tight to Janah's had she steps back to her spot.

Kessaly winks back, and then dimples.

Janah graps Zandria, and laughs, then returns her hopeful glance to teh
blue, not paying attention to the bronze, only the blue.

Arien tips a long look up to the galleries, hands on hips, and eventually

Zandria trembles as the blue darling closes the gap between her small group
of candidates."Plese choose me !"she murmers.

Janah echoes Zandria's litany, leaning ever closer to the blue, praying
softly, "oh please, please me."

Parched Desert-Bronze Dragonet turns arid, spare frame towards the
white-robes. Rangy muscles bunch, then push forth, pacing along the route
the blue follows. Towards the few.

Grave Scarab-Blue Dragonet hesitates, hanging back with those wicked black
talons dug abruptly, anew, in safe sands. Wings tremble sealed iridescence
around his crouching form, but finally he moves forward again, towards. No
uncertainty now, no, no. No. Sapphirine eyes draw him, dark-gold hair lures
him, and he is — almost — there.

Tulon smiles over to Zandria - her hope reflected in his own - perhaps he
will, perhaps he won't…but he can only hope…eyes seek out and watch.

Arien ventures a return wave of sorts, at the motion, over the battlefield
and into the gallery; and then she turns, again, to watch the rest choose
their own.

Zandria trembles as the rainbow one draww closer,"oh please, me..choose

Janah looks again at the hatchling, hopefully.

Parched Desert-Bronze Dragonet seeks gold to match his own golden hues,
dark to counter his light. Crimson flickers — a flash — along his
underbelly, in the expanse of a shake of wing. And another pace forwards.
Towards him.

Janah strains toward the hatchling, hopefully praying, as he comes tumbling
toward them.

Zandria leans toward the blue dragonet almost pleading,"Please, choose
me>'a constant murmer pours forth from her lips.

Anvar peels the damp linen of his somewhat soiled robe from his chest.
Fingers flick sweat-damp raven locks from his face, runnels of sweat
dripping down his forehead. "Please…" This is definitely a plea for it to
be over rather than for impression. Seeming to wilt, Anvar's grubby face
glances up to the galleries for some entertainment. T'nol. He notes the
rider in the stands and smiles at the thought of getting /his/ marks. Quite
a profitable little venture this candidacy.

Kyrie pages: You used /T'NOL!/ You rule. I worship you.

Janah looks again to the blue, hopeful, but sad, feeling she won't be

Tulon looks from the blue to the bronze and back, eyes alomst
pleading…are they heading towards him, or near to him? He can't tell…he
can only hope. Sweat solwo trickles down forehead and he raises a hand to
mop it off with his arm.

Janah pulls the dripping robe from her body, and sighs, watching the blue.

—And towards /him./ The faience-blue dragonet straggles through the
murmurs and rustles, closer. Oh, /closer/ he draws, into the ice-light of
grey eyes, the touch he knows already of those sensitive Craft fingers. His
sun has dawned, and he awaits, head tilted patiently up into the glow.

Zandria leans toward the blue one, droplets un noticed as they pour from
her face, all consi(concetration focused on the blue progressing ever so
slowly toward her group.

Janah watches Tulon, as the blue moves toward him.

Parched Desert-Bronze Dragonet stops before /his/ chosen, gaze seeking gaze
that matches the glint in his hide. Rangy frame draws higher, rough around
the edges, in demand.

Tulon looks back…and eyes widen…towards him? SO it seems…he swallows
and smiles, almost trmbling.

Grave Scarab-Blue Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Tulon.

Zandria sags and sighs as the blue bypasses her, a whimper erupting from
her thraot, depair cloudy her eyes."

Millae freezes in midsentence to Phelth as she sees the blue roaming the
sands stop before her cousin. Turning to Toria she gives a quicksilver grin
and goes back to whispering to Phelth as she points to her cousin and other

Janah turns to Zandria, sadly, wanting comfort.

Loreli smirks down at Kismeth, scritching the green head, "Another blue for

Tulon does tremble…his knees almost giving way. "Tuath?" he asks,
reaching out with a shaking hand to gently touch, as if to convince this is
-real- and happening. "Tuath!"

Zandria embraces her friend, tears falling freely,despair eve(evident in
her every move.

Janah embraces her back, sobbing.

Anvar is serenely contemplating his riches. Oh, dem marks, dem marks, dem
marks. His litany is slightly different to the other candidates, but then
Anvar has always been slightly contrary. Or atleast so he's been told :} He
sticks a finger in his ear absently, oblivious to the crowd of onlookers.

Parched Desert-Bronze Dragonet's whirling gaze fixes upon Anvar.
The hint of the coming flood reaches your senses as a distant rumble, just
moments before it is upon you. Waves of sound — of consciousness — of
life — engulf and sweep away, washing all in its path out of view. And
then, just as sea's whorling torrent is at drowning level, it recedes, and
mind melds with mind in the sudden bloom of awareness that is, now and
forever, as one.

My name is Caervath! «

Kismeth looks up at Loreli. Not only is there another blue, but now there's
another /bronze/!

I sense that Zhanth slips a scalpel of fire into your nascent mind, a

black streak of welcome, and then extricates, seamless, no harm done this
time. «

I sense that Katrineth sleeks bass timbre within your mind, imprints

with /her/ signature: amber, myrrh, and eternal, lucid whimsy. «

I sense that Dorianth greens in a showering spark of green, her delight

loud and happy. «

Kismeth is gonna looooooooove her clutchmates. They're going to all be
chasing after her. It'll be beautiful.

Tr'vyn is lost in a world of shadowy warmth and mind-numbing affection even
as the the shouts for Tulon trickle in .. then Anvar! He lets loose another
cheer, one for each.. before an impatient nudge call his attention back to
the swirling eyes before him.

(Fort Weyr) Khalith thrums his welcome to all the newest dragonets and

he and his lifemate settle down for a long rest. «

"Dem marks…dem Caervath?" Anvar is totally bemused. "Hello." His teeth
flash in a smile that restores his colour and a semblance of energy. He
squats to the bronze, drinking him in before embracing him with an
affectionate hug that seems entirely familar.

(Fort Weyr) Yolinth sends bright, blue laced greetings to all the

babies. «

(Fort Weyr) Phelth breezes a soft touch to his parents, clutchmates and

others. «

Kessaly stretches slowly, smiling. Quickly, so as not to disturb, she
threads her way through weyrlings and whispers to her weyrmate.

N'tol stands….just gazing…unable to break gaze from blue's eyes…until
he gets nudged and told to move…a sheepish grin, and he leads Tuath to
join the others.

Janah begins to stop crying, just holding Zandria tightly.

(Fort Weyr) Zhanth flits incurious welcome to the minds now slid into

their midst, and then he worries about collecting that rider of his away
from human celebrations…. «

Ryka smiles gently and leans down to kiss Kess' cheek lightly, she nods
emphatically at her.

Toria walks up and kicks at the peach egg. Mournfully she shakes her head
and walks away.

Kismeth croons to all the male dragons out there. Look out, boys, as

soon as I'm big enough… «

Byzanth greets the world with a trumpet worthy of his color. » testing.

And then: « More of them. » «

Ryka herds the wandering pairs towards the exit leading out in the
direction of the barracks.

Moiraith unrolls to slide her own lazy, complacent greetings with the

chime of the rest. Rosalth's first: » Greetings, young ones. Do any of you
BUGLE? No? That's good. « «

(Fort Weyr) Katrineth sends rumbling amusement out into the aether,

brushing mind to mind with familiar, delicate inquisition. «

Zhanth lazily agrees. Nor any BUGLEBUGLEing. «

Imbrith flits curiously through each baby mind. «Welcome.» His alto is

bright and warm. «

Moiraith adds, conscientiously, » Nor ROARing. That is also bad. Good

dragons. Good, young dragons. « Zhanth? What are /you/ doing tonight? «

Negoth rumbles a greeting to all the now ones, even the bronzes. » Grow

stong and fly high. « «

Ashtoreth's thoughts drift out, lazy, teasing welcome. Touch feathers

'cross each new young mind: testing. And then: « More of them. » «

(Fort Weyr) Stefith bespoke all » Welcome. Eat lots. Sleep More. This

is my advice. «

Zandria gingerly heads towards the entrance across the burning sands.

Kh'rys walks out.

Belisanth bespoke all » Don't take your time about growing up!

(Especially the males) ;) «

(Fort Weyr) Yolinth bespoke all » And you do that so well, Stefith. «

Arien stretches, as if lazily, and sends a last grin out over the expanse.

Rosalth takes one last wistful look around, her eyes whirling bright color.
That's enough for me! I'm outa here.

Rosalth wings up into the cavern, scattering sand.

Kismeth moves slowly out into the bowl.

Riallath bellows a basso greeting to all of the newest arrivals, his

mindvoice echoing in the hollows. «

Anvar shepherds his dragon to the bowl, thoughts of marks gone in a swirl
of dragon hunger - post-poned actually. Anvar collects his debts. And pays
them occasionally.

Toria glances up as Rosalth takes off and chuckles, "No holding her down

You struggle across the Sands — lifemate at your side — and travel out
across the bowl, until you reach, at last, /home/.

[OOC Foo - some of which was quite amusing]

[FCand] Millae gahhs… what do people think… Millae, M'lae, or M'llae?
[FCand] Kh'rys: Millae
[FCand] Ariana: Millae
[FCand] Toria: Millae
[FCand] J'dano: Full name.
[FCand] Sh'lin: Millae
[FCand] Janah: Millae.
[FCand] Zandria: Millae
[FCand] Tulon: Ditto
[FCand] Toria grins.
[FCand] T'vyn: Millae.. leave it. :)
[FCand] Bennal: Millae
[FCand] Anvar: M'lae ;)
[FCand] Arien winks at Anvar.
[FCand] Toria pokes Anvar who has to be different.
[FCand] Tulon chuckles
[FCand] Millae laughs. Anvar, the different one. :)
[FCand] Zandria it's his main talent, contrary! ;)

[Log Ends]

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