Logfile from DF2.

"The Ista Weyr eggs are ready to snap, crackle, and pop! That's right, it's time for the hatching of Tajiath and Jaqueth's clutch! Come on down to the Galleries (#1816) to place your bets on the candidates!" —- Entered by D'nic on Sat Mar 22 22:03:09 2003 EST

Candidate's Barracks
This large, rectangular room has seen much usage and more excitement in its time, and the evidence of it is clearly visible in the well-worn floor and the battered cots that line its walls. Covering the cold stone surfaces of arches and windowless vaults are a series of tapestries, simplistic in nature but comforting nonetheless: each depicts the daily life of the Weyr, whether through the antics of Weyrlings bathing their dragons, or the majestic wheelings of full-grown dragons overhead. One massive tapestry even shows the stumbling white-robed Candidates on the glittering black sands of the Ista Hatching Grounds, gathered around a mound of eggs with watchful queen in anxious attendance.
(If you wish, you may type 'candidates' in this room, and see who has been Searched so far.)
You see Candidate Bulletin Board, Satine, Sassafras, Tempest, Pudge, Sheve, Dusty, Tali, Teil, Liet, Babe, Starlight, Wart, Minder, Arid, Abominable!, Monet, Alysia's songbook, Wicked, Thor, and Mud here.
Montego, Gloriana, Xeri, Siulthyr, Diocelen, Jania, Ramon, Alysia, Qhaelin, Liette, Jyianne, and Kaveri are here.
Obvious exits:

Dappled with pale freckles, a cgarmingly crooked nose divides the imperfect oval of Liette's face down to the snubbed round of her stubborn chin and the pale expanse of thin lips. Watery green eyes flecked with sienna gaze through a ragged fringe of dun-colored hair cropped short and messy over a wide forehead and distinct widow's peak. An ill-defined waistline, wide hips and generous bust coupled with short legs leaves little room for curves at her very average height of five and a half feet, but dexterous fingers and swift feet make up for any obvious lack in strength and speed.
Soft white fabric has been tamed into some semblance of wholeness, loose drapery open in a square neckline that tightens into rolling folds across a chest too large for the cut of the robe. Slack white courses over a flattened stomach only to grow restricted and taut again when it encounters the considerable sprawl of a pair of wide hips forced into the too-tight sheath. Well below the much too brief hemline about mid-thigh are a pair of sandals, lustrous enough to give the appearance of being new with double-thick soles, rei

* Editting fubar here :( *

Wispy, silvery-blonde hair frames a delicate, oval face, hanging loose around her shoulders except when working. Gray-blue eyes are a window to her every emotions, wide-set and framed by long lashes that reflect the light color of her hair. Her arms and legs are well-muscled, the same milky white color as her face, causing her to burn fairly easily, which is why her skin takes on a reddish tone frequently. Her build is slim, with a flat belly and enough curves to make her feminine. Her height may be imposing at first, as she stands at least 5'8, but her gentle, calm nature belies her physical appearance.
Pristine alabaster hangs loosely over her slim figure, ending just below her knees. The seams are even, obviously done by a practiced hand, and reinforced with double stitching. Sleeveless, it bares bronzed shoulders and arms that contrast sharply with the crisp white of the robe. Just a few inches of her equally tan legs are bared, before being replaced with thick-soled, scuffed brown boots thatare practicaly and will protect her feet from the hot Sands. Monet regards you, perched atop Kaveri's shoulder. Wicked regards you, perched atop Kaveri's shoulder.
Kaveri is 17 Turns, 4 months, and 28 days old.
She is awake and looks alert.

Montego's body isn't just big and sturdy — it's a foundation in and of itself, tall and dense. Even his fingers are sausage-sized, ruddy and rough from so-called work. He keeps his platinum blond hair regularly trimmed close to his scalp, which bears no scars. The same super-light tint of hair glistens on his forearms. His skin looks like the burn-first, tan-later type, and his eyes are a hard, glittering blue-grey.
Montego is wearing a simple white candidate's robe.
Montego is 16 Turns, 8 months, and 20 days old.
He is awake and looks alert.

Subdued vermilion cascades down past strong shoulders — curling and thick, the mass of titan red hair is typically pulled back, but sometimes left to be the messy, crowning glory of this woman of Amazonian proportions. Indeed, the classic-yet-exotic beauty of Xeri's tanned visage has an untangiable wisp of something else, something deeper: straight nose and high cheekbones, straight cheeks, slightly hollowed, high forehead and arching red eyebrows, she's expressive without meaning to be. Compound that with rather full lips, shapely and downright sensuous; and eyes of the most brilliant shade of golden brown, melted and oddly metallic all the same, her face alone would melt many men. She doesn't end ther upwards in an inner humor. His chin is strong, and stubbornly set, a warning to those who think him easy to sway. Lean and lithe, his body is little more than dark gold skin and whipcord muscle. Though hardly looking underfed, he does look as though his meals never stick to his lanky form. Though he lacks the appearance of muscle, his graceful, dancing movements hint at a strength beyond his looks.

* Editting fubar here, too. Blame it on the program :( *

A toussled mass of thick brown hair covers his head, faint golden streaks shot through. Beneath the unruly mop peek a pair of almond-shaped hazel eyes, oft-times obscured by the lock of hair which refuses to remain pushed back. His face is lean and foxy, triangular in shape with high, slashing cheekbones accenting the too-long arch of his beak-like nose. Thin lips, pale pink, often tug upwards in an inner humor. His chin is strong, and stubbornly set, a warning to those who think him easy to sway. Lean and lithe, his body is little more than dark gold skin and whipcord muscle. Though hardly looking underfed, he does look as though his meals never stick to his lanky form. Though he lacks the appearance of muscle, his graceful, dancing movements hint at a strength beyond his looks.
Pristine cloth falls from shoulders to mid-knee, a simple robe cut to fit Qhaelin's lanky form. The soft fabric skims over his body, shapeless and yet seemingly formed just for him. Sleeveless, arms are exposed, jutting from the robe, gold skin a distinct counterpoint to the white that surrounds them. A sash of the same color is looped twice about his waist and knotted in the front, trailing edges falling down to merge with the hem of the robe. Slender calves extend past the robe, a rare sight, pale and hairy and not exactly a sight to see. Legs end in boots, a distinct shock from the simple elegence of the robe, black leather and scarred from heavy useage, but adequate and more for the Sands.
Qhaelin is 23 Turns, 11 months, and 6 days old.
He is awake, but has been staring off into space for 2 minutes.

Tall for his age, this young man is filling out - albeit slowly. The hungry, gaunt look that plagued him for so long isn't too far gone, but helped by a lean, hard body - slim, to be sure, but with lengthy muscles tightening his frame into some semblance of manhood. He's naturally endowed with broad shoulders; narrowing down into a tight 'V' to a trim, slim waist and a pair of slender-though-muscular legs. His arms, calloused with more muscles than one would expect for his lanky frame, are long and thick, meeting his strong shoulders with surprising aesthetic value. His skin, bronzed to a healthy glow - even for one so naturally fair, stretches tight over an angular face - high cheekbones are hollowed, though more naturally than imposed gauntness. Eyes are a luminous shade of greyish blue, the exact shade of a stormy day at sea. His hair, long and black, falls in rivulets, one lock here or there, out of a messy braid which falls, thick, to the middle of his back.
Long, loose, flowing, worn — totally managable, is Siul's robe, simplistic and cut with ragged seams. Ripped, torn, and everything in between, every little snag has been carefully stitched up, giving this candidacy robe a distinct appearance of being gathered in some areas and not in others. A pair of strappy sandals clad his feet in somewhat immasculine glory, heh heh heh.
Siulthyr is 23 Turns and 4 months old.
He is awake, but has been staring off into space for 8 minutes.

A bulky adolescent, plagued with pimples and the occasional growth spurt, her brows and lips are the only things slender about her. Already, she is taller than the majority of her peers, despite the self-conscious slump of her shoulders. Impossible, kinky hair, brown bordering on black, is tamed (more or less) into a tight and incredibly thick french braid. Wild strands, struck by the light, turn to burnished copper. Clear, golden brown eyes, dark lashes crowding heavy lids, are only slightly darker than her bronzed skin. A face almost perfectly round supports strong cheekbones, a dimpled chin and a large, hooked nose.
A cow in a tent is a fitting description for this candidate—at least in her own mind. A too-large white robe drapes from her shoulders, sleeves lacking and hem brushing her calves. A simple cord of white adds definition at her waist, while white sandals offer slight protection from the sands, as well as a touch of keen fashion sense.
Diocelen is 15 Turns, 5 months, and 7 days old.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.

Ramon is all long bones and a distance-runner's slenderness under too much thick, straight, near-black hair. There is a rage of acne on his chin, but not much else spoiling his olive complexion — he even appears to have mastered the art of shaving, at least for today. His big brown eyes stick out a little, always saucered by a sliver or more of white and veiled by girlishly long eyelashes. His mouth is full and wide; it carries a not-yet-fully-settled tenor.
Ramon's wearing his daddy's plain white standard issue candidate robe, and should definitely be treated with mercy.
Ramon is 16 Turns, 11 months, and 11 days old.
He is awake and looks alert.

Muddy brown hair falls in half-waves, an unruly mess, to the middle of the girl's waist. A twisted length of leather hide is wrapped at the nape of her neck, keeping the mass of dirt-colored hair out of her face. A few wisps escape, softening her angled face. A high forehead, recessed brown eyes, pointed nose, and strong chin give this youngster a very harsh look. Full lashes soften her almost-pretty eyes, but the sun-browned skin of her face seems to belend in with her hair, making it easy for her to fade into the shadows. Solid, she is neither fat nor thin, short nor tall. She's too average for her own good.
Ivory-tinged fabric, from turns in the storerooms, forms this simple robe. The lightweight material seems to free-fall from the shoulders to the floor, only drawn in at the waist by a white-hide belt. Subtle gathers at the shoulders and darts in the waist pull the material in, fitting it delicately to average woman. Sleeves are cropped short, just brushing her shoulders, tiny blackwork-style embroidery in a white-thread etching the hem of the sleeves. Beneath the fabric, white candidate sandals are laced up her calves. The soles are slightly thicker, providing protection from the sands, and the slightest extra height, making her look taller than the average woman.
Alysia is 17 Turns, 7 months, and 6 days old.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.
Wide eyed and curious, this candidate tends towards quiet observation.

Angular sharpness and the chiarascuro of light and dark casts an almost painterly effect over this girl's face, pale brown freckles contrasting with the milky whiteness of her skin, and ebon black hair that luxuriates about her shoulders. Only the slightly vicious gleam of her almond shaped eyes represents the defensive soul put on the offensive within.
A piece of white cloth drapes over Jyianne's form, elegant in it's simplicity. Formed of one larger piece of cloth, it's doubled and sewn up the sides, with holes left for the arms and one cut at the top for the neck. It falls down from shoulders to knees, secured at the waist by a sash of the same color, tied and knotted firmly about her waist. A pair of sturdy sandals bottoms off the outfit, protecting her feet from the heat of the sands with thick soles.
Jyianne is 17 Turns and 6 months old.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.
What have you?

Silky blonde reaches finally down to her midback, cut in rather random layers even a bit jagged at the ends. Still it seems to suit her, flirting with her facial features. Like her icy blue eyes that sparkle as she stands tall, probably about 5'10, a good bit of her height going to long, toned legs. Perfect for poking, a small and cute nose might seem to make her lips seem fuller yet go so well with one another. Her arms look of a definite strength yet still end in delicate fingers, all covered in creamy skin like the rest of her. Well-defined muscles are visible all over the young woman's rich Istan-tanned body along with eye-catching curves of the hips that sway in her walk, and a bosom worthy of making quite a few jealous.
Twisted strips of black and orange, also a strip of blue, mingled into the loop to represent her as Ista Weyr's Weyrlingmaster.
Thin straps are the only sleeves her silky white top really has which are more often than not, covered by a black leather jacket that fits slightly loose, at least more than anything else she's wearing. Her top fits tight, showing her feminine curves and makes 'x's across her back with even thinner straps of orange to represent Ista, the end of it ending just above the edge of her black leathers pants. They hug her hips and thighs but seem to flare out at about mid-calf until they drag slightly on the ground around her boots, black to match.
Klari is 28 Turns, 2 months, and 26 days old.
She is awake and looks alert.

Montego snores softly in the corner cot

Siulthyr is sprawled, oh-so-haphazardly, yawning… loudly. Yeah, .

Qhaelin is in his cot reading. What a shocker.

Kaveri joins the club - she's sprawled on her cot, though she's not asleep. Nope, she's drawing idly. Yay her.

Ramon is in the necessary. Again.

Xeri is well, tidying around her cot, folding the two robes she now has and placing them in her foot locker.

Diocelen drowsily indulges in her own form of reading, a box of chocolates and a hanky or two near to hand.

Liette is over there, you know, over there, sitting on her cot and working on her new boots with a shoe horn. Oh, the excitement never fades, does it?

Curled on her cot, Alysia is studying a hide intently. Its starting to be her usual evening practice — she reads, then slips away to practice on her harp.

Gloriana meanwhile sits crosslegged, organzing some big stack of papers. Messily.

Xeri rolls her eyes as a smell wafts around the barracks,"Shardit Ramon! will you /stop/ alrady?"

Jyianne sits quietly on her cot, a knife in one hand that she's turning over and over, checking the blade.

Ramon finishes up and remerges blearily, but sturdily enough. "Euh. Sorry."

Klari pauses just in the doorway, arms crossed as she gazes around the barracks.. She makes her way around through the room, passing each candidate as she idly checks their space with a glancing over. "Don't cut yourself, Jyianne." A tease, really.

Montego rips a loud one, a snore that is, then turns over, facing away from the wall.

Jania was just passing by, really. But a Headwoman's job is never done. She sticks her head in the door of a quick visual survey of the room. "Is Ramo…oh, there you are. Feeling any better, Ramon?"

Siulthyr continually yawns, shrugging a shoulder and lifting his head to rebraid his hair idly. Oh yeah.

Xeri grins at Ramon,"I know, its just well.. the smell." Turning as riders and Jania enters her grin falters slightly, "Yet another inspection?" she asks with a sigh.

Ramon nods quickly; he feels he evades attention better if he makes it snappy. "Yes. Thanks."

Diocelen sniffles as she reaches out for a sweet (not chocolate) from her box. She pauses as Klari passes by and looks up. "Hello, ma'am."

Gloriana glances over, dropping a few of her papers. Oops. And she's always messy. She hurries to scrabble them up.

Liette turns her back to the room that's come alive in the last few minutes as others join from outside the door. She busies herself with her boots, though every now and then she glances suspiciously and curiously over her shoulder at the newcomers…

Jyianne looks up, her examination stillling for a moment as she flickers a half-smile towards Klari, then drops her head again, back to the knife which once more starts it's turning examination.

Jania isn't inspecting. She manages a tight smile for the girl. "No, dear, just passing by." She nods to Klari. "Just who I was looking for.

Alysia looks up from her hide, and straightens as she recognizes the weyrlingmaster. "Good day, ma'am." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and smiles at the others.

Kaveri glances up from her sketch, peering at first Klari, then Jania. Then, with a barely stifled yawn, she tosses her hair back from her face and does a quick visual check of her area. Clean. Good. Then, she finally greets the two women with a nod. Not talkative? Apparently.

Qhaelin reads. He's tuned out the world. He just wants to finish this book. Or… record? Yes, that is one of the Ista Weyr Records. No wonder they go disappering for a day or three.

Klari pauses mid-stride and tunes her ears a bit, squinting her eyes as a faint humming begins. Though she takes a moment to listen, just to make sure. "The eggs! Quick! Everyone into your robes! Sandals!" The eggs are hatching. Then to Jania she grins, putting a hand to her shoulder. "The eggs, Jania! The eggs!"

Boots go flying! Just as Liette suspected and she doesn't appear to be none too pleased with this either. She pushes herself to her feet and as if by rote, opens her clothes press while simultaneously shimmying out of her attire with little care for who may or may not be watching.

Alysia looks up, startled. Its a joke. She knows its a joke. And then, as the humming gets through to her head, she panics, "The eggs!" Her eyes are wide, as she starts to strip off her clothes, and then grabs for her her robe, with her blouse half blinding her. "Oh my!"

Diocelen stares at Klari. It takes a moment for her words to sink in. Finally, tossing pillows and hides askew, she hops off of her cot and begins to change.

Siulthyr lifts a shoulder and then -stares-. Uh — what? /What/? A dazed look for just a moment, before he lifts his eyes and hands fall away from his half-braided hair. Hecticity reigns! He dives for under his cot. … No, he's not hiding. He's grabbing his robe and stripping simultaenously.

Gloriana /does/ drop all her papers now. About five skate across the room and she makes a little incoherent sound as she hops up. "Really? They are? " Yelp. She starts to hastily dig through her trunk for her terrible, terrible robe, shedding clothes a little wildly.

Ramon's big eyes just get bigger. He's stock-still for a while, paling under his olive complexion — but no more chunder. No time. He drops trou and grabs for his robe.

Jyianne looks up from the jnife again, the information taking a moment to sink in. A look of shock crosses her face for a brief second before she joins the stampede to get into robes and sandals, her knife now lying abandoned on her pillow.

Xeri drops the lid of her foot locker in shock, squeaking,"The eggs?" eyes widen she swears and scrambles to reopen that footlocker. Not looking she grabs her robe, quickly shimmering out of her other clothes and into the robe, only to blink,"Shards! its the wrong one!" turning she almost dives looking for the other one. "help, where did I put it! I just had it!"

Kaveri hurries, all right - maybe a bit too fast. The girl flings her sketchpad aside, topples off the bed, and makes a dive for her robe and sandals. With as little care as the others about who sees her, she strips off her clothes and yanks on the robe. "Oh my. Oh my oh my." That's all she says, over and over as she hastily adjusts her robe and starts shoving her feet into the sandals. "Ohhh dear." Well, at least she changed her expression of astonishment.

Qhaelin probably wouldn't have noticed Klari's exclamation if the sudden flurry of Candidates hadn't sent his cot jostling. Looking up, annoyed, he sees the clothes flying and the sea of white cloth. "Eh? What? What's going on?" A nudge from behind sends him sprawling over the cot next to his, and Tiana snickers as she pulls on her own robe. "Hatching, little girl. Better put on your pretty dress." Ignoring her through a supreme act of will, he pulls his robe out of his chest, changing quickly into it.

Jania swears just under her breath, and pulls her head back out of the doorway. She is still audible in the barracks as she hollers into the resident's barracks, "Stations, people! It's time! Move it, move it!" A thunder of footsteps streams past the barrack's dorrway, and then a slightly flustered Jania reappears. She eyes the flying clothing. "Need help, anyone?" She calls out.

Diocelen breathlessly stands at attention at the end of her cot, cheeks aflame and eyes bright with excitement. She double checks the knot on her belt, then drops her arms to her side to wait impatiently, shifting from foot to foot.

Montego gets hit with a boot or something and comes wide awake. Taking in the scene, he cusses like the sailor that he is and quickly lunges for his stuff, getting it all on in record time. Fortunately everything fits and is in working order

Alysia gets herself dressed, twists her hair back into a runner-tail, and then smooths the fabric. She glances over herself, and then looks for Diocelen, instinctively wanting to have the comfort of a friend near.

Siulthyr smooths down his robe, glaring at his hair. Great. Messiness.. oh yeah.

Jyianne is, perhaps surprisingly, quiet as she dresses quickly, the finding of her sandals taking the most time, but soon they too are donned and she stands ready beside her cot.

Liette nearly gets stuck in her robe as she shimmies it over her head and wiggles it all the way down to her hips —even though it's a very involved process. Too tight, too tight! Her sandals are struggled on as she kicks off her pants, looking incredibly ridiculous.

Ramon wriggles into order and stands ghostly beside his cot.

Xeri calls out from where she has her head buried in her locker,"yes! I can't find the robe Ramon gave me!" Yulping she comes out, "We have to go /now/ but but I'm not ready! I can't wear this robe onto the sands! I /can't/!"

Kaveri yanks on her sandals finally, uttering words unfit to repeat. Then, cheeks flushed and eyes bright with excitement, she quickly twists her hair into a runnertail and brushes off her robe, simultaneously smoothing it.

Jania is bustling about in the room, finding lost sandals, and helping the bewildered youngest shove thier arms into thier robes. SHe gives one youngster a pat on te head before glancing over at Klari. "We ready to go?" She gives Raman a reassuring smile and a wink. Poor boy.

Gloriana gets herself all settled, even if her hair is still a flyaway mess. Ah well. She's bright-eyed and a bit pale.

Klari snaps her fingers and gestures all of them out, "Go!" That means now.

Liette is escorted into the tunnels.
Qhaelin is escorted into the tunnels.
Diocelen is escorted into the tunnels.
Alysia is escorted into the tunnels.
Kaveri is escorted into the tunnels.
Xeri is escorted into the tunnels.
Jyianne is escorted into the tunnels.
Montego is escorted into the tunnels.
Jania slips out through the drape covered doorway.
Gloriana is escorted into the tunnels.
Siulthyr is escorted into the tunnels.

Sands (#1993J)
Waves of heat drape their stifling folds over breath and skin, a scentless perfume from the black diamonds that cover the floor of the Hatching Cavern. Scintillant, they burn the soles of bare feet; seduce the eye with their deceptive glitter in jet made prism and rainbow both. What cooler air there is flows in from the huge openings from the bowl, wreathing swift and teasing down the shafts of sunlight that ride them. At night it is the large baskets of glows that dot the walls which lend subtle illumination, the sparkling sands more subtle than starlight seen through a shroud of mist.
It appears a small encampment has been deployed near the entrance. But no, it's really just Katarra and what she considers the 'bare necessities'. A good size hammock leads the way, enlivened by a few bright velvet pillows. An army of small chests are lined up along the wall, neatly arranged in strict order. Two light chairs and a low table complete the setting, a welcoming pitcher and several mugs encourage visitors to have a seat and chat for awhile.
You see Tajiath, Demented Tea of Diversity Egg, Chateau of Invidious Grandeur Egg, Tremendous Pieces in Dwarf Portions Egg, Snazzy Bourbon Delight Egg, Wild Wild West Egg, Prancing Pony Parade Egg, Yo-Ho High Seas Buccaneer Egg, New Dimensions of Terror Egg, Rumbly In My Tumbly Egg, Secret Hideaway Egg, and Jaqueth here.
Katarra, D'nic, B'roughs, N'lon, Kyla, Liette, Qhaelin, Diocelen, Alysia, Kaveri, Xeri, Jyianne, Montego, Gloriana, and Siulthyr are here.
Obvious exits:

White robes, walking in rows of three abreast onto the sands; wide eyed and hopeful, nervous and jittery — a sheer wave of pure hopefulness incarnated. Soon, they've all emerged, and they've all arrived. Sense has been knocked into them, apparently — as one, they turn first to the golden dam and her rider, then the bronze sire and his rider, and finally the weyrlingmaster, and give three stiff bows with uneven, ragged choreography.

Tajiath twitches as if itchy from head knobs to tail tip, watching closely as each candidate enters the sands. Katarra stands at her side, keeping one hand on her glistening side, murmering soft words of comfort and reassurance.

Ramon arrives from a tunnel under the Galleries and steps onto the Sands.

D'nic rocks back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, hands clasped behind his back, looking mighty important-ish. At the appearance of the Candidates, the corners of his lips quirk into a smug grin.. for none of them in particular, but rather for the whole group. At their bow, his chin dips in acknowledgement, mouthing a silent, "Good luck…"

Diocelen straightens from her bow and takes a deep, heartening breath, as she suddenly feels the overwhelming consciousness of many eyes focused on her and her fellows. The eggs that before had seemed so very unassuming have grown to immense, frigtening proportions. She looks to Alysia for comfort, offering a shaky smile to the other girl.

Xeri struggles with her robe, pale from shock and the rush to get here wars with red from embarrassment due to her rather skimpy robe. Breaking off from the pack, she does however try and stay in the middle so she doesn't moon the whole galleries. Struggling, she whispers to Alysia, begging "stay behind me? please?"

Qhaelin straightens from his last bow, fingers trailing across his forehead to wipe free the first of much nervous sweat. Looking first at the eggs, then at his fellow Candidates, he suddenly slips out of the ragged circle, finding Liette, and ducks in next to her. Fingers brush hers, and he looks down at her, nibbling his lip. "Why do I suddenly not feel ready for this?"

Demented Tea of Diversity Eggshifts on the hot sands, as if feeling the presence of the candidates on the sands. Soon. Soon the ride will spin to a stop.

Liette stalks through the sands out of the press of candidates, tromping heavily in the direction of the eggs as if she's bound and determined, or just resigned to her fate. Whatever's going through the brain of hers isn't obvious, even as she pauses when confronted with Qhaelin. She frowns at him, not taking his hand but instead waving him along with her as she takes up position. "Because you aren't," she suggests.

Jaqueth hangs back, behind and to Tajiath's left. Still keeping himself busy with tail-sweeping. Waiting for instructions from the queen. The approaching Candidates get a quiet rumble of approval from the bronze — they're up to snuff.

Siulthyr bows deeply. Then, he frets with his half-done braid. Well, he's not just gonna keep it half-done — of course. He begins to knot the end, wandering away from his fellow candidates, scoping out both eggs, sands, and fellow candidates; well. He's… doing his Lone Wolf impression, 'e is. Grey gaze flickers everywhere, taking in everything. Ahh. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Oh — bounce from foot to foot, too. Dude, it's hot.

Montego moves out with some of the other candidates as he was taught. Rough circle, right? He gravatates towards Alysia and Diocelen, standing not too close, but not far away either. He's terrified, but he's got to show he not. Really.

Alysia gives Diocelen a quick smile, her own face rather pasty. She nods to Xeri, whispering, "I'm behind you!" Behind Xeri is good. With Montego and Diocelen flanking her, she's protected — unless the dragons sneak up behind her. She bites her lip, "Shards.. look, its moving!" She points towards an egg, although she can't really see it that well from where she is.

B'roughs just watches the candidates and scoots one of the younger ones, from his native Nerat back into line.

Jyianne breaks off from the group after the bow, looking more than a little nervous at her surroundings. Her movements take her quickly over towards Siulthyr with a quietly muttered, "Shards."

Kaveri straightens from the final bow, containing her inner turmoil of emotions with a carefully bland look, though she furtively reaches up to mop some sweat off her brow. The hot sand makes her grimace, and she starts moving, eyeing the eggs. "It moved!" She points at the egg, a look of breathless anticipation replacing her neutral one.

Snazzy Bourbon Delight Egg turns just so, nuzzled in the sand. Though it's not long before this snazzy egg is a rockin'! Well, more like a bit more of falling to one side.

Ramon moves warily into place, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand.

Qhaelin didn't seem to expect Liette to take his hand, and certainly makes no effort to take hers. But he's definately sticking by her. His other best friend is rather out of reach, waiting for Weyrlings, so it's up to Liette to put up with him this night. "I should be," grumps the ex-record keeper, eyeing the eggs owlishly. "I've been reading up on past Istan Hatchings for the past several days." Because books contain the answers to everything, right?

Montego is startled as one of his favorite eggs moves just a bit. Now he's feeling a bit freaked out, his voice a clear indicator. Squeakily he says, "Arieegh!"

Jania walks carefully onto the hot sands, making sure not to disturb the queen or her eggs.

Gloriana's bow was a bit unsteady, her pale copper-tendriled hair a loose cloud behind her, and she straightens just as unsteadily as she moves to settle into a place in the line, shifting nervously.

Diocelen flanks Alysia, indeed, though her gaze is locked on the rocking eggs. She swallows nervously, eyeing the demented one. "It moved," she mumbles. Yes, Dio. That's what eggs do. She offers Montego, on the other side of Alysia, a shaky smile.

Klari makes her way over to the area of the sands out of the way but where she's needed… You know, with the meat.

Siulthyr absolutely latches onto Jyianne. Leech. Knot-ment of braid. "Is it just me… do you think it's too late to run?" his Igen brogue lowly whispers down at the girl. "'Cause, y'know, I think we could probably divert some attentions and just race for the exits.." Wait. There /are/ no exits. Well, that's cheerful. Eggs are Eyed.

Liette shakes her head slightly at Qhaelin as she assumes a rather stocky stance, hands set upon her hips in a way that only proves to emphasize the thickness of her body. "Like books can teach you anything." Blasphemer! "I mean, I just don't see how they could prepare you for… this." Her chin jerks toward the eggs, eyes unconciously lingering upon the one that has become her favorite, in spite of herself.

Xeri glances towards the eggs, Eeeking as one then another moves. "Shards!" feet shifting in the timeless traditional candie dance she takes a few steps back and nods to Aly,"Thanks, though…" shes now not too sure about being in front of others is a good thing.

Snazzy Bourbon Delight Egg waists little time once it gets moving. There is no time like the present to compose a debut. With just a one and a two, a snap of the brazen polish dashes down to the decor of vegetation and straight through the most royal of purples. Without warning, accentuating the moment the egg splits in half, every crackle spread evenly from the next.
Hello Brother Brown Hatchling
Luxuriously dark chocolate drenches in tranquil pool across his reasonably taut, lengthy build. Gentle milk chocolate gyrates around impenetrable wings before breaking off, flowing as two streams entangle while rhythmically entwining their route down to the raven tail-tip. Ebony shadows on each and every spar, dwindle back into the base hue. Though his immense head is the most elaborately embellished; headknobs containing scarlet flints trail down and encompass his enormous eyes, around which eye ridges cautiously extrude. Coiling muscles radiate like boiling, liquid candy, from his gaunt form, a brassy polish covering his mammoth chest and down around his sturdy haunches.

Alysia bites her lower lip, and her gaze moves from the eggs, to the parent dragons, and she whispers, "What if they don't want us to disturb their babies?" Only now does she think about these sorts of things. She looks a little frightened, and her hand snakes out to grab Diocelen's. "Wow! Look at that!" She beams, "That's beautiful!"

Jania is hurries down the stairs as the head cook appears in the entrance to the Hatching Grounds with a frantic expression. After a quick conference with t woman, Jania turns away with a laugh. Seeing Kyla, she pauses at the opening to the Sands. "Everything going okay, you think?"

Tajiath sidles closer to Jaqueth, dipping her muzzle and crooning loudly. Katarra smiles, catching a quick glance of various friends. It's finally time. "Oh, a brown to start!" she exclaims.

Jyianne nods, managing to mustter "Probably." to Siulthyr before her eyes catch the first dragon on the sands and her voice vanishes, finally returning so she can shakily grumble, "Definitely no running now."

Kyla nods at Jania. "Sure enough. And you are right on time." She assesses the brown with a nod, "Healthy little guy. Hopefully he'll impress quickly."

N'lon gives his cordials to the Weyrleader, Weyrwoman and the rest whom out-ranked him and gives a thumbs up sign at the candidates. "Remember, fear is the mind-killer. Stay calm and all will be well." He doubts that any will hear him and he then goes to assist Klari over to the designated meat area.

Xeri jumps as an egg hatches,"Oh!" eyes going wide as she forgets about her robe for the moment.

Kaveri studies the newest moving egg, eyes brightening. She liked that one - not her favorite, of course, but still pretty spiff. While she's musing, it..hatches. Well. "He's gorgeous. Wow. A brown." Well, duh. Gray eyes study the hatchling, as she gnaws on her lower lip. Fear is bad, yes. She's more excited and nervous than anything.

Diocelen, with a start, just about has a heart attack as the first hatchling breaks shell. She gasps, then lets it out in a sigh of awe, the romance of the moment sweeping her up and away. "It hatched! It hatched!" she squeaks, bouncing in place.

Now that the fun has begun, two more eggs decide to join in the action quickly splitting into pieces and depositing two lovely green hatchlings onto the sands. With excited creels they stumble away from their long-time beds and begin to wander among the candidates.

Montego is nearly about to faint. A brown hatchling is out of his shell and now it's for real. "Alysia…yeah…pretty." is all he can meet out, with his lips clenched as tightly as they are.

Hello Brother Brown Hatchling nearly popped from his egg, eh? The brown carefully takes a step and then another before he races a few steps while he trumpets out in jubilation! Though it still isn't long before he's making his rounds, narrowing down the candidates with a timely pace.

Ramon finally gets wind of his massive family cheering for him in the Galleries and makes his hand into a shield between his face and Them. Loud Them. Loving Them.

Gloriana takes a half-step back, unsure, although her gaze remains fascinated upon the brown. "Ooh, wow. He looks like…." She's not sure what. Something.

D'nic sidles over to the Weyrwoman, brushing her shoulder with his, cocking his head to the side to say out of the corner of his mouth, "This is starting to become a habit." Yup, a whole two times they've been in this position together!

Qhaelin is watching the same one Liette is. Probably because their taste, at least in eggs, has coincided. "Hmph," he protests, perhaps futilely. "You'd be surprised what you can find in books." He frowns at the first hatchling, eyeing the brown warily. "Of course, not this. I guess nothing could prepare me for this." He seems offended, for some reason. "Well… at least it's a nice looking brown?" He seems woefully uninterested.

Demented Tea of Diversity Egg shivers a bit more as a shower of egg shards from it's clutch sibs clatters against it's side. Now? Now? Is it time? Or should one be fashionably late?

Siulthyr quietly studies the brown for a moment. "Interesting," he murmurs. "No running," he agrees with a sigh down at Jyianne. "No running, but — he's quite a looker, isn't he?" One brow lightly, oh-so-lightly quirks upwards. Yes, he's dubious. Yes, he's doubtful. Oh yes.

Diocelen realizes that her hand has been grasped. She takes another deep breath and gives Alysia's hand a squeeze, even as she offers a smile to her fellows. "It is. It's /so/ lovely," she breathes, her voice oozing admiration. At this moment, she could die, and die happy.

Alysia holds onto Diocelen's hand, while Dio bounces up and down. Alysia's not letting go, the hatchlings moving around on the sands seem so much bigger than she'd anticipated. "oh. My.." She looks over at Montego, and then back at the moving targets, trying to see what is coming near her.

Liette tilts her head to bother glancing at the first hatchling and then the other two that have broken shell to wander. "I suppose, though I'm watching so I don't get trampled." Yeah, that's it, that's the ticket. Just so she doesn't get trampled. She's playing this all tough and surly, isn't she? "I'd just watch out," she murmurs as she shuffles hands from hips to cross them defensively over her chest. Just what is it she defends against though?

Jania murmurs to Kyla, "Gorgeous color on that brown." The greens riccocheting around the sands are given a quick study too, before Jania returns her gaze to the eggs.

Jyianne looks the brown over, nodding slowly, her nervousness still obviously at the forefront of her mind. "Nice, but big. I thought they'd be a bit smaller." She pauses to watch the apth of the greens, then looks back at the brown silently.

Xeri takes a few more steps back, away from eggs and dragons, "This is scary." gets commented, more to herself than those around her. Robe remembered and Xeri's again pulling the top up and hem down. shifting again, she ends up beside Alysia instead of infront.

Katarra leans to give D'nic a shoulder nudge in return, smile lifting slightly into a grin as she nods in acknowledgment. "Quit following me," she teases, tone sounding like a quote of some oft-repeated joke. "That is, unless you've brought a skin of wine with you." Pale brows quirk momentarily.

N'lon is remotely touched by the cameo of a brownling and is reminded off his own dragon when he was born. Now the rider has a whole different perspective on things, now don't he? "I've got these bowls ready." He aims over his shoulder to the Weyrlingmaster as he shuffles the dishes into his hands, waiting for the moment to give them to a new Pair.

Gloriana's gaze shifts, ebbs, like the way she stands, from one foot to the other. There's too much going on even now, and she chews on her lower lip.

Tremendous Pieces in Dwarf Portions Egg quivers slightly as a creeling green brushes by. Now? Soon?

Hello Brother Brown Hatchling looks good, yes he knows. But he's got plans, you see. Big plans. Obvious by the look in his eyes he gives the candidates that he goes through… But Hello's looking for something different, something he hasn't laid his eyes on yet. After another trumpet, he stops in his place in the sand to give another looking around. Where to?

D'nic had his hands clasped behind his back for a reason, you know. Not just to look imperious! At the Weyrwoman's request, a wineskin is produced as if by magic. That Weyrleader, always got something up his sleeve, huh? "Never leave hom without it, Katarra."

Qhaelin slants a glance at Liette, unexpectedly grinning. "Why Liette, are you worried?" It's not really a laughing matter, and he reaches out to pat her shoulder, eyes flickering to the hatchlings roaming the Sands. To make sure they don't run over him, of course. He's a records keeper, not a rider. But he does eye them all apraisingly. "Well, I just have to say, this will look wonderful in the records. There's only been a few first hand experiences recorded in the past four hundred turns or so."

Siulthyr flickers an eyebrow upwards at the brown again, before settling down to shuffle from one foot to another. Shuffleshuffleshuffle. "Hmm, hmm," he comments, mostly to himself, still grasping Jyianne's hand with a tight grip. Let's hope the other can feel her hand in the morning… "He is big." Studious little evaluating look.

Kaveri, without meaning to, drifts over to Gloriana to comment, "Frightening, isn't it? So many things going on at once. And look how big he is! I thought they'd be small. And he's..not small." Great observation, Kav.

Demented Tea of Diversity Egg finally gives in to the madness that abounds, first with a shiver then with a shudder before pausing as if for dramatic effect. No small hairline crack here, instead a sudden crescendo of shards, showering outwards, the pieces landing on the sands with a whisper of a giggle, leaving its occupant standing in a puddle of goo and confusion.
Imperious Caterpillar Blue Hatchling
Blueberry swathes this chubby blue's frame with lavish mulberry surging about, encircling, and creating an imprecise ribbon illustration around his back and deep chest. His stance is staunch, and a rotund paunch hangs low, not quite brushing the ground, though the clearance isn't grand. Cobalt tipped eadknobs are long and slender, and his eyeridges are highly arched and capped in a delicate fringe of white, giving him a slightly haughty air. Blue fades as it eanders out his wings, a darker indigo on the spars melting away to a delicate sky on the full sails. His tail is stocky and most certainly condensed, blueberry and ulberry continuing its dance, surrendering at a thick tail tip which simulates having been doused in a pot of plum jam.

Liette tilts her chin firmly in Qhaelin's direction and replies, "I am not," but there's something of an untruth in there. Perhaps she's worried that some dragon /will/ find her suitable, or perhaps she's worried that once again one will not. "I am not worried," she confirms again, as if for her own benefit. "Taking notes, are you?"

Yo-Ho High Seas Buccaneer Egg grooves to the beat of his own drum, the ovoid wallowing in the warmth of his surroundings but is plagued by a gnawing from within. That'll have to wait though. He's still busting a move for the world to see.

Gloriana nods her head hurriedly towards Kaveri, her eyes wide. "I've always seen them from up there," she says, jerking a thumb towards the stands. "Never seen it down… oh, look, another one. He's big, too!" They're all big to Glory.

Alysia squeaks, "Dio, look, another one!" She points to the blue across the sands — its so much prettier from that distance, than one of the greens that is somewhat closer. After all, close dragons trample. She bites her lower lip, and she watches the dragons warily, still more nervous than excited — and very attached to Diocelen's hand.

Jyianne winces. "Shells Siul, not so tight." Though she doesn't let go she wriggles her fingers trying to get the feeling back and managing to miss the arrival of the blue.

Ramon drops his makeshift shield, checks behind him, and then he's eyes-front again, like a soldier. More hatchlings. He focuses on the one most distant from him.

Jaqueth takes the initiative of scooching a wayward egg back towards the center, without even being prompted by Tajiath. That one's not quite ripe yet.

The green hatchlings wander in the same direction, raising a screech from one group of girls as the larger of the two plows into their knot, sending white-robed bodies scattering. A hushed gasp rises as limbs untangle and eyes meet. Not to be undone, the second green ruffles her wings and clambors after another of the girls, creeling happily as she finds her own match.

Klari smiles and nods to N'lon as she readies a bowl herself, "Great!" She takes a moment to look at the dragonets that have hatched, "Beautiful… Candidates sure look a bit nervous." As usual. Though it's not long before she's back to work. Must be ready, after all.

Diocelen suddenly perceives the heat seeping through her sandals—things come to her in stages, you see, slowly but surely. She shifts her feet in place, though that seems to just make things worse. Alysia's point draws her gaze towards the blue and another intake of breath hisses through her teeth. "He's…. /huge/."

Imperious Caterpillar Blue Hatchlinggives his head a shake with a tiny creel of frustration. Stupid shell. Ruining his entrance. Goo muck is shed, and he pulls himself to his feet and tiny huff. Ok. He's here. It can all…wait! They started without him. He didn't get the memo! Damp wings are furled and unfurled with frustration as he looks around. Where to start, besides the beginning?

Siulthyr scratches along the curve of his ear, staring at the newest blue. "Interesting colors." His grip loosens /just/ slightly, before he leans closer to Jyi. "You nervous?" 'Cause Siul sure is! Oh.. oh yeah.

Qhaelin sighs softly. "Of course you're not," he replies gently, moving close enough that his shoulder brushes hers, and he turns his head to flash her a smile. "You have nothing to be worried about." Not that that's comforting, necessarily. Liette already knows Qhaelin thinks she'll walk away with a lifemate. "Notes? Of course, what else should I be doing out here?" Eyes flicker to blue and brown, nodding briefly to the two girls who Impress. "Look, the greens chose." He's a font of obvious information.

Xeri catches the green's antics out of the corner of her eye, shuddering she looks away and spots he newly hatched blue,"Oh he's pretty."

Kaveri studies the new blue, looking doubtful. "Think they'd hurt us?" she whispers. "I mean, they're big and look a bit awkward. But I dunno if they'd trample us. I won't think about it. Ugh." As the two greens are Impressed, she smiles slightly. "Aye, those are two lucky girls - or four, if you count the dragons," she adds musingly. "That blue's lovely. Or, well, more like..cute." Blink.

Tajiath thrums loudly as eggs hatch and impressions are made. Wings rustle but remain close to her sides.

Montego frowns at teh greens doing their best to make a ruckus. Oh, if he impressed green, he'd die! It would be like being married to a squaky woman for the rest of his life. Seeing Alysia nervous like that makes him feel a bit more manly though and he says, "S'ok, 'Lysia, they've gone away for now."

N'lon directs a new green and her recently-dubbed lifemate over to where he's standing and trades ownership of the meat-bearing vessel. All seems to be going well as he does the same to a new brownrider. "Good for you boy." He then beckons them off to the side to make room for more new-comers.

Jyianne manages at last to catch sight of the blue and nods appreciateively, turning quickly to Siul as he speaks and giving his hand a little squeeze. "A bit," is admitted quietly. "Half wish it was all over, then I could go."

Liette already knows, or rather persists, that she will not —of course. "Mmm," she grunts non-commitally to her friend as she doesn't argue about the shoulder pressed to hers and perhaps leans imperceptibly back against Qhaelin. "Too bad you couldn't bring something to write with," she muses, though she'd probably rather she'd been able to bring something too. Maybe, just maybe.

Ramon claps like a good sportsman for the greens and their impressors, and then tracks the blue from where he stands.

Gloriana gives a tight little nod, shifting back and forth on her feet a bit. "I've seen them run over people to impress before," she says, none too loud, although a smile flashes at the greens. "Lucky! They are!" She continues about the trampling, "Just run if they charge towards you!"

Alysia gives Montego an appreciative smile, "Thanks." She's now decided that distance from the hatchlings is better. She doesn't move, but she seems to shrink back into herself, trying to avoid the attention of the dragons.

The Hello Brother Brown Dragonet's bound and determined to make sure he finds just the one. He stops as he sees, the one that is perfectly milky, even if she might be rather pale. The jet black hair makes her look all the lighter. Yes… Hello Brother's found his honey!

Hello Brother Brown Hatchling's whirling gaze fixes upon Jyianne.

Crew> » Mieloketh has awakened! «

Yo-Ho High Seas Buccaneer Egg is gyrating more tightly than it was previously, but it still refuses to reveal the specimen within. A twirl here and a boogy here and it's all but demanding the crowd's attention. Ha, you just wait until he hatches, then all eyes will be on him!

Imperious Caterpillar Blue Hatchling waddles out of his egg shell mess, flicking the last shard from his heel. That place was cramping his style. Now he's here for a partner. Who's going to dance with him? Or rather, who's worthy? Wide load is shifted and moved towards the white ring, as he tries to focus on the shifting group. Why won't they stay still? Does he need to tell them how to do this?

Siulthyr chuckles and shudders slightly to himself. "A bit, a bit," he comments with agreement. And then, uh… He moves to one side, dropping Jyianne's hand and taking a few dancing steps to a side. Then, a blink, and one brow furrows, and he stares — and then he hollers. "Go, /go/ — Jyianne!" Okay, that was just a squeal. That was just.. Yeah. But he can do that! Really.

Ramon claps gamely for Jyianne too, and what's-his-name. What is his name, anyway?

Jania chuckles with amusement as the brown finally find his person. "He's going to be a big one, isn't he?"

Jyianne takes a slow step forwards bending down to the ground to gaze at her new lifemate and swallow hard before whispering his name aloud, and nodding a slow nod of acceptance. "Mieloketh."

Kyla giggles, "He sure looks it." Hand slips into her pocket and pulls out a skin. Hey. She never leaves home without one. "Care for a drink?" She even offered it to Jania first.

Qhaelin nods, quite serious. "Yes, if I could have just smuggled a hide and a pen out here…" But he couldn't, and there's no point in whining about it, right? Brown is eyed as it wanders past, and he blinks once. "Is that brown looking at Jyianne?" Is it flattering to her that there's a note of surprise in his voice? "Funny, she never struck me as a brownrider." Still, he seems quite pleased with this turn of events. One less dragon to worry about.

Xeri gasps as Jyianne enemy impresses, shocked,"Oh my!" Staring for a moment she snaps back, calling out,"congrats." to the new pair.

Yo-Ho High Seas Buccaneer Egg finally tips over from its antics and rolls a short distance, having been flipped horizontally. It stops, movement ceases as if gathering for his presentation. Pern, look out, here I come!

Alysia doesn't see the brown impress — there are so many eggs and candidates on the sands. She just looks around, trying to take it all in at the same time. She whispers to Montego, "How many eggs are there? How many have hatched?" She can't see it all, but she's trying.

Gloriana's smile breaks across her face brightly as she sees Jyianne. "Is that what it looks like from up close?" she asks, wondering. "Wow. And… neat name."

Yo-Ho High Seas Buccaneer Egg cants to one side and remains still once more as if it has changed its mind. But no, a single claw pokes through a weak spot and drags its way down to rend through the tough outer shell and membrane. Lo, Smoke on the Wind Bronze Dragonet is liberated, erupting in a shower of shards, whipping his head around wildly as if pin-pointing just where he shall strike first. Shiny from egg-goo, he unfurls his wings calmly to dry as if he's done this before. Hm, where shall we begin…
Smoke on the Wind Bronze Hatchling
From fierce copper and primordial iron oxide comes the purest bronze. Perfect feline grace claims his form. Lead grey smothers blunt head-knobs while dark smoke drifts against his sides like the caress from a tongue of flame. Bursts of tangerine and gold reflect dashing bravado on his finely formed flanks which soon gives way to mandarin copper towards the end of the spaded tail. Wing sails, poised like matador capes, are furnished with bullet gray spars that ricochet down the length. Aged bronze dominates the remainder of his body, vivid orange specks peppered occasionally about like embers of a dying fire.

Diocelen gasps yet again as the brown singles out one of her fellows. She waits to be sure, turning bright eyes on Alysia. She hears the name and lets out a dreamy sigh. "Mielokith. How /beautiful/." And hou jealous is Dio, for the briefest of moments. Butt here are still dragons and eggs on the sands, so she cries out, "Congrats!" since it seems to be the thing to do.

Jania accepts and chugs a mouthful without diverting her eys from the fascinating spectacle on the sands. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and passes the skin back. "Thanks, Kyla."

Montego leans over, watching Jyianne get the brown. Making some inarticulate sound of approval towards the new pair, he turns back to the circle of eggs. Now he's keen. "Three impressed, Alysia." And then hatched a bronze. A glorious bronze that makes poor Montego itch all over.

Kaveri grins as the brown finds his person. "Go Jyianne! Wow, what a beauty she has. Though I never pictured her as a brownrider.." She trails off, keeping her musings to herself. She's jealous for only the briefest of moments, and instead watches the eggs and newest hatchling. "A bronze. Hm."

Liette's cheek twitches a bit when Jyianne suddenly impressed —someone she knows, as opposed to the nameless masses, as there are rather a lot of those. "Well, there goes Jyianne," she says at the same time Qhaelin asks her about the very same thing. "Me either, come to think of it," she replies, though she really hasn't much to say about all that.

Tremendous Pieces in Dwarf Portions Egg is buffeted again by a passing dragonet. Is that moton from within or out? Hard to tell, for after that small quiver, the egg lies quiescent.

Siulthyr flickers his gaze from Jyianne to the bronze — but he's still staring at his ex-fellow-candidate. Stare, stare, stare; his jaw drops and closes a few more times, before he gives a slight little chuckle-shudder and shakes himself out of his own reverie. Then? He's dazedly alone once more, staring at the predatory beats — er, dragonets.

Alysia sees the bronze, and she forgets about the candidates who just impressed. She's too focused on the new creature, and she gasps, "He's breathtaking!" Her attention is captivated by the bronze, for a long moment, and she actually loosens her death-grip on Diocelen's hand.

Klari's smile widdens as she hands off bowls to the two girls that come in with their new greens. She looks up and spots Mieloketh with his lifemate, "Over here!" See? Food is her way.

Qhaelin turns from looking at Jyianne and her new lifemate, just in time to see the newest entry into the world. Uh oh, bronze. You know, one of those dragons that only chooses male types? Like him? "Oh wow." He can still appreciate the look of the hatchling, staring long and hard at him. "You should like that one," he remarks to Liette. "Very metallic." A little bit more staring, then he shakes his head, looking off again. Hey, where'd the blue go?

Gloriana gets a puzzled look on her face. "A bronze? Where?" She looks back and forth a minute until she sees it. "Oh! Ooh. I wonder whose that one will be." She flicks her gaze over the boys, then turns back to track the blue too. And the others on the sands.

Xeri dances beside Alysia, not realizing she may just be flashing to those behind her,"Oh now he's pretty," she comments, eyeing the bronze. Catching Siul's stare she smirks slightly, this could get interesting.

Ramon puffs out a sigh to bolster himself with, as though getting rid of the extra air might restore his sense of balance. He smiles wanly at the latest hatchlings. "Uh oh."

Imperious Caterpillar Blue Hatchling continues his weave, concentrating on something. Someone. He can feel they are near. A bit of a whuffle at the hem of one of the candidates robes, causing a shriek. Well not /her/, that's for sure. His someone..where are they? Nervously he taps his plump tail tip on the sands as he tries to decide just where to go.

In quick succession eggs crack and fall like a line of dominoes. A brown, two blues and a green all make their entrances with various creels, howls, and rumbles. Pausing only briefly to look about, they head out toward those white masses with staggering steps. Watch those toes - here they come!

D'nic puffs up his chest with pride at the bronze hatchling's appearance, "A fine looking bronze, yes indeed." At which point, Jaqueth swivels his head towards his lifemate. What about me, bub? A roll of the eyes from the Weyrleader, "Pales in comparison to his sire, of course."

Diocelen stares as her favorite egg hatches to release a bronze to do the bloody imagery justice. She bounces excitedly, returning Alysia's death-grip as she nods in reply. "Absolutely a picture of perfection," she replies with heated agreement. Exactly as she'd imagined. Only… bronze is not for her.

Liette twists at Qhaelin's words, eyes shifting across the blue instead as she gives him a curious look, lingering before moving on again as if she doesn't trust herself to look too long. "They do tend to be that," she agrees with her fellow candidate in the most prosaic of tones. In fact, as time goes on she seems to be getting even more and more quiet about it all.

Jyianne looks up finally as Klari speaks, the congratulations having washed over here as her attention was rivetted on her new lifemate. With a quick smile to those near her she moves, one hand resting all the time on Mieloketh, towards Klari and the food.

Smoke on the Wind Bronze Hatchling gives a glorious stretch before sauntering down the lines of the skinny, two-leggers. Wings are raised above his head and flaunted for the stunning beast he is. His neck is craned and then arched appropriately as he then seeks to get nourishment. By first, he will show off a bit. Stealing the spotlight from a green and another brown, he rises onto his haunches to make his diminutive form look bigger. And so begins the cat-walk, a swish of a tail and a flutter of wings. Ladies, swoon, men, be jealous of his glory. He's not narcistic, nay.

B'roughs chuckles as he watches the hatchlings or is it at the Weyrleader. That boils down to how good his ears are. He watches the blue more than the bronze, lopsided smile on his face.

You paged Jyianne with: Don't forget to change your name, if you're still shortening to Jyian.

Katarra's eyes widen with delight as D'nic produces the very wine she asked for. "Oh, I didn't think you really would…." she starts, already reaching for the skin. The unmistakable sounds of impression pull her attention back to the sands and she identifies the new arrivals. "He comes from a fine line, of course," she grins, referring to the bronze D'nic remarked upon.

Methodical, plodding steps bring Imperious Caterpillar Blue Hatchling closer to his quarry. There is something about the girl with the strawberry hair that pulls him. Berry to berry, so it be. Wedge-shaped head swivels and cocks as he fastens his kaleidoscope gaze of blue, red and yellow onto Gloriana.

Imperious Caterpillar Blue Hatchling's whirling gaze fixes upon Gloriana.

Crew> » Visheth has awakened! «

Kyla takes the skin and tosses some of the wine back, before saying. "Glori. Well there goes your kitchen help."

Xeri doesn't know where to look as dragonets roam the sands looking for The One, and those candidates she knows are swiftly transformed into weyrlings,"Glori! congrats!" she calls out, catching the blue's impression. When told hatchings were a life changing event, she didn't realise just how much.

Gloriana was going to dodge. Really she was. But that's all forestalled, and she looks outright shocked before she flings her arms around the blue's neck. "Yes..I'll keep you too, Visheth."

Ramon skims his hands down his narrow narrow hips, the better to rid his palms of all that nervous sweat. He's still watching whatever he can fit in.

Montego puffs out his chest, instinctively, rising to the bronze dragon's challenge. His fear's gone like morning mist in a cove, dissipated by the primordial heat of this dragon. "Beautiful…" is all he breathes out.

Siulthyr shifts, sidling off to a side and looking perplexed. Yes, he's alone, and befuddled, and really quite muddled — indeed, muddled. Impressions are racing on like wildflowers, and the hatching's just started - or so it seems to Siul. The young man simply moves, before giving a whoop. A whoop, goes he; "Go.. er.. Gloriana!" Whoop! "Visheth. Nice name."

D'nic scratches at his chin, frowning slightly at Gloriana's impression. Probably the only one frowning in the whole place. "No more fish bubblies? Drat."

Jania grimaces, and admits, "I know. But I figured I would lose her anyways. Either to a dragon or a man>" Honest, that's Jania.

Diocelen squeaks yet again as Gloriana impresses the pudgy blue. She bounces in place, her knuckles going white as she puts Alysia's hand through the ringer. "Oh! Oh! Glori! Glori Impressed! Yay, Glori!"

Qhaelin reaches up to brush that stubborn lock of hair from his eyes, huffing softly. Oh look, there's the blue. "Glory?" Twenty-three turns, less than a month to twenty-four, and his voice cracks in surprise as he stares at the newest pairing. "Now that I could have seen," he murmurs, satisfied. Has someone been betting? Perhaps. He glances at Liette, but says nothing more, instead turning to watch the hatchlings still unImpressed. Like that bronze.

Tremendous Pieces in Dwarf Portions Egg finally shows the first signs of independent existence. The initial bobbling twitch is commuted into a wild gyration of bounces, wiggles and twists that careen the egg across the open sands. Powering out a wide furrow in its wake, it finally collides in a shell shattering halt against the side of a sibling egg. Pangea's demise, the expansion of the continents in an explosive single instant, is re-enacted, tumbling a dark be-slimed dragonet body free. A single mountainous island of shell clings to the stunned blue hatchling's nose as he rights himself.
Demolition Down Under Hatchling
Smoky soft blue whirlwinds course over this burly boy's exaggerated wingspan, diminishing in intensity on the spars, like the dying of an early spring gust. Corkscrewing down the middle of his wide-ribbed back, twin contrails continue the softer blue wash over the sooty creosote hide. Violent gales of midnight burst along his powerful flanks, racing heedlessly to their demise along his strong, stubby tail where they blur into the charcoal sketched edges of his dark tail-tip. Coiling out of the smoky debris patterning his shoulders, emerges the heavy broad-boned head of a genial bullmastiff, held firmly by the sturdy muscle-strained neck. The bony planes of his face are marred only by blurred markings in navy, harbingers of the scattered wreckage in his wake.

Alysia sees an impression out of the corner of her eye, and glances, "Oh, the blue impressed." She didn't see who it was, but then Diocelen starts squealing. "oh, my." She tries to pry her fingers loose. "Dio, that /hurts/." She's shaking her hand a little, and doesn't see much of the dragons for a long moment.

Smoke on the Wind Bronze Hatchling vaults onto a dune of sand and creels proudly at the crowd in particular. His paws are looked at, the grains sticking to the dampness of his hide. Ah well, his soon-to-be lifemate can clean that up afterwards. When an Impression is made, he looks that way and then extends his wings to draw the eye back to his galena-based wing spars. Already his movements are well-controlled, as if his body were born to this. A pang in his gut causes him to start looking more closely at these pale, tall creatures.

Liette shakes her head slightly as turns toward the latest impression, but she hardly has the attentive powers to take note of them all! "Well, that was unexpected," she says before she can halt her tongue, because of course there is little to no buffer between her brain and her mouth.

Kaveri now has no one to talk to. Hmph. With a wide smile to Gloriana, she moves quietly away. "Congrats, Gloriana. And Visheth..lovely name." She pauses to study the blue. "Wow. Talk about intense," she comments to no one in particular, ambling closer to a cluster of candidates.

Smoke on the Wind Bronze Hatchling's whirling gaze fixes upon Qhaelin.

Crew> » Coorankath has awakened! «

A set of cheers go up along a row of boys as one of them impresses a wandering brown, shortly followed by a short fellow getting one of the blues.

Klari hands off a bowl to Jyianne, "Congradulations," is spoken gently to the pair before the fills another bowl and works on luring the next pairs in, "Food's this way!"

Smoke on the Wind Bronze Dragonet trots smoothly through the puny ranks of white-clad things and studies a boy from Ruatha. Nope, his skin's too milky. He needs a native, someone who knows Ista, or has at least been here a while. The girls are mostly ignored, though he looks to one briefly as if you say 'look what you coulda had.' No, no, no. These won't do /at all/. Just as he is about to give up all hope he glances at the Record Keeper formally-known-as-Qhaelin and steps closer to. He'll do.

Ramon rips out a felicitatory wolfwhistle for Qhaelin.

Xeri glances from one impression to another, grinning widely as Qhae gets his,"woohoo! congrats Qhae!" she screams out, doing the dance or joy that looks remarkably like the dance of too hot sands and sandals not thick enough.

Siulthyr lets up a whoop for Qhae, too. A little groovy little shuffle; yep, he's happy. Or something akin to happiness — he's… content. Very content. A flicker, and he eyes the blue that hath hatched, before moving back to sit deep on his heels, flicking a pondering look left, then right. Is he /betting/ on people? He is, he is.

D'nic throws his hands up in the air, "Now I need a new Records Keeper, too? Come /on/!" First his favorite cook, now his trusty scribe. If it weren't for the fact that these impressions are going to bolster the ranks of the wings, he'd be thoroughly beside himself.

Montego find his sails depleted and limp as the bronze completely ignores him. He edges closer to Alysia now, to gain comfort. "More eggs yet, there's more to come." he says to himself, but loud enough for others to hear. He does manage a smile for Qhae and a wave.

Demolition Down Under Hatchling cries softly to himself, not yet moving from the scattered wet remains of his egg. That wasn't what he planned on doing! He frees a wing tucked under his tail with a rumbles and an indignant squawk. That doesn't belong there!

Jyianne smiles as she takes the bowl, all trace of her former nervousness gone as she begins to feed her Mieloketh, looking up only briefly at the wolfwhistle that accompanies Qhaelin's impression.

Rumbly In My Tumbly Eggquivers once, a ripple spreading across the honey shaking the more solid portions. Then it subsides, not time yet. It can wait.

Qhaelin was looking at Liette. He's not anymore. His attention is caught by something just as appealing, if in a completely different way. "Uh." Words fail the slender young man as he stares into those whirling eyes, stunned beyond belief. "It's nice to know you too, Coorankath." He reaches out to stroke an eyeridge, then looks helplessly around. "He wants, uh… what /are/ they having?"

Diocelen lets Alysia's hand drop, her cheeks flushing dark in embarassment as she ducks her gaze, apologetic. "Sorry," she mutters, before perking up as another cry goes out. "Qhae? Qhae Impressed the /bronze/?" Now that's a shocker. It takes a moment for her to finally call out, "Yay, Qhae!" The latest blue is eyed, before her attention turns towards the remaining eggs. There's gotta be a gold in there, somewhere!

Liette gives Qhaelin a look as if he's suddenly a traitor and actually steps back a few feet from the newly formed pair. There goes her leaning post, or rather, he's just lost his and found a new one. "I told you so Qhaelin, I told you so," is all she has to say to him in the shock of the moment as her arms tighten about her chest imperceptibly.

Wild Wild West Egg shifts and actually topples, but no cracks yet. Just a not-so-subtle repositioning.

Alysia shakes her hand, trying to get the feeling back into it. "S'okay, Dio. Really." The noise and action on the sands are startling, and she looks a little confused as she looks around, trying to see what is going on. No matter where she looks, she's missing something else, and she's got the look of someone trying to drink it all in at once.

Ramon backs up one step, two steps closer to the sands' edge. A dragon will find him if it's meant to be. Whereas before he was trying to get rid of air, now he's trying to drink more in; it's become absolutely stifling in here. He waves tightly at the family among the spectators, not even lifting his hand — rather, he's shooting from the hip.

N'lon waves his hand over to Qhaelin and motions him further to him. "Fill his maw with some of this and he'll subside. Can you handle this?" The bowl is offered, complete with bloody flesh. "If not, you'll have to learn fast. Not to fast now, make him chew."

Siulthyr attempts to not grin. He fails. No — it's just too good of a feeling. It's such a good feeling, and just knowing… simply knowing. Indeed, simply knowing. The young man wanders towards Ramon. "Ramon. I'm going to just.. stick around you, okay, man?" Good luck getting him un-attatched.

Kaveri gnaws on her lower lip even harder, staring at all the new pairs. "Congrats, Qhaelin," she calls out, another brief flicker of jealousy appearing. But, once again, she douses the flame, lips twisting into a wry smile. She absolutely refuses to be jealous - it's completely against her nature. So, she'll stand and watch the rest of the eggs and ignore the fact her sandals aren't as thick as she thought and her feet are rather uncomfortable. Hmm.

Demolition Down Under Hatchling is busy with getting himself to his feet. He hasn't noticed all those fascinating white shapes yet, but he will. Stumbling on those four awkward things attached to his legs, he bumps one candidate, then another as he staggers across the sands.

Ramon makes way for Siulthyr, but with this muttered caveat: "All right, but I might boot."

Rumbly In My Tumbly Egg shivers and then splits starting with the spilled gold on the point. It splits back with a resounding crack, like pottery striking a solid surface or being struck. The broad end quivers, attempting to hold itself together before shattering. Were it not for the noise the egg might almost have melted onto its inhabitant who simply sits there as if not quite realizing she is free.
Honeycomb and Buttered Toast Gold Hatchling
Bright canary yellow brushes generously over the rounded muzzle, dripping like melted butter over the precisely molded head knobs and glittering as if sugar coated. The bright hues deepen down the solid, sinuous neck to rich honey amber which drizzles over her broad shoulders to wide, sweeping wings. Pale glimmering spars pierce through darker gossamer sails like sunlight through lazy shadows. Her svelte body, surprisingly short, pales gradually over curvy haunches in perfect, polished 24 carat which tumbles down the length of her tail to the slender point. Waxy honeycomb clings from under her chin, across her deep chest before fading over her belly.

Kyla grins, almost to herself. "A gold." Head nods slightly, "Lots of folks in the lower caverns are going to be happy." About the bets, you know.

Alysia gasps. She's a girl, and its a gold. No matter how much she doesn't want to, her attention is suddenly riveted to the pretty dragon, and she murmurs, "Look at her. She's so…." She can't find the right adjective, so she just lets her voice trail off. And she shifts her weight, to avoid burning her feet.

Klari nods to N'lon as he instructs Qhaelin. Still, she looks out to others coming in for food, handing off another bowl or two and begins filling once more. Though she pauses to look on in awe at the newest of the new arrivals. "Would you look at -that-…" Klari's job just got -that- much more difficult.

Shells crunch underfoot as yet another pair of greens make their way from the rear of the clutch, winding around the dips and niches to find their matches. As they pass one lopsided egg, it tips over and out pops a tubby little bronze who rolls a few handspans before getting upright and letting out with an affronted little roar.

Ramon still has his sense of humor. "Over here!" he calls to the gold.

Siulthyr indeed sticks to Ramon's side. "Boot, eh?" An eyebrow lifts and he refrains from chuckling. "Okay, okay. I see." Foot-shift, foot-shift. "Dude, there she is." He eyes the gold for a good long moment. "Too small," he finally states. "And what's with all the /yellow/?" Cough. Okay, so /someone/ doesn't agree with the rule that everyone must have hero-worship over a just-hatched goldling. Then? He dies at Ramon.

Jania gasps audibly as the latest egg splits, dumping it's golden prisoner onto the sands. "Beautiful." she murmurs. And she just won a lot of marks.

Liette finds herself without someone to cling to, not that she was really doing any clinging and reluctantly pushes back into the crowd of candidates. She fills an open hole, finding an unfamiliar face upon the right with a few more familiar ones to the left. She frowns, but finds it hard to say anything though she grinds out, "Hey, do you mind if I?" she bothers to ask Ramon. She knows him at least.

Xeri was peering down at her sandals and her poor, abused feet, thus missing the gold hatch. At the gasps she glances up, jaw dropping,"Oh its a gold." she barely breathes out. Gulp. Shifting closer to Alysia, she glances at her fellow candidate,"Beautiful, isn't she?"

D'nic does one of those sharp intakes of breath, "Wow." He flashes a thumbs up at Jaqueth, who isn't paying attention to him in the slightest, "Your first gold, good job!" Knew he had it in him. Which he tells Katarra posthaste. "Knew he had it in him."

Montego murmurs too and finishes Alysia's sentence. "Beautiful? Yeah, she is." Now he's hoping for Alysia. He nearly chokes at Ramon though and bursts out laughing. "Ramon!" he admonishes.

Diocelen just about faints as the gold finally breaks shell, she's breathing so hard. This time, she doesn't have a hand to grip. "So absolutely /divine/," she finishes for Alysia, though words cannot describe the feelings inspired in her. "Oh.. Oh.. Oh.."

Bewildered and bawling his desolation, Demolition Down Under Hatchling stumbles a few steps toward the galleries, knocking into other clumsy hatchlings, and crunching shell shards underfoot. At some unseen signal, he suddenly jerks his head and gives a group of candidates a startled wide-eyed stare. In an amazing display of balance, he uses his tail as a prop, spinning on it before barreling singlemindedly toward his goal, a brown haired giantess in white. Colliding with Diocelen's legs, he squawks unmelodiously.

Demolition Down Under Hatchling's whirling gaze fixes upon Diocelen.

Crew> » Duivelth has awakened! «

Ramon reaches for Liette's elbow, and then Siulthyr's elbow, just like the Good Shepherd. A Good Shepherd who may be sick at any moment.

Kaveri stares at the gold. Just /stares./ "Wow, what a beautiful little creature." She simply stares, then blinks. "She's just.." At a loss for words, she shakes her head.

Qhaelin takes the bowl from N'lon, turning a decidedly green color. "Oh my shards, what have I gotten into?" But Coorankath won't be denied, and before he knows it, the Candidate-turned-Weyrling is feeding the bronze on the go, following the assistant Weyrlingmaster to wherever he's lead. See? It's not so bad. If you don't look at it. And don't think about what you're touching. No, Qhae doesn't look well at all.

Alysia gasps, her attentiond drawn from the gold by the very large, blue who just impressed someone right next to her. She takes a step away from Diocelen, even as she says softly, "Congrats." She moves closer to Xeri and Montego, and away from the pair.

Montego steps back with her, nearly treading on someone's feet. He cheers for Dio. "What's his name, Dio?"

Siulthyr quietly thinks that Ramon's insane, but he won't voice that opinion, /oh/ no. "I'll get a bag if you need to barf," he states as an aside to Ramon, smirking to himself.

Liette looks… relieved? Though she pulls her elbow from Ramon's grasp not long after allowing herself to be pulled closer. "Not so hard," she complains, though it's mostly so that she has something to say. At least she's not watching the hatchlings now, else she might actually admit to being a little… upset? Yes, that could be it. "Is it over yet?" she mumbles.

Honeycomb and Buttered Toast Gold Hatchlingshakes herself and hauls herself to her feet. She meanders to the first candidate she sees, taking her time. Nope. He's male to start with. She moves slowly, but steadily down the line haulting occassionally in her swinging gait to inspect one or another more closely. No rush here.

Diocelen tumbles beneath the blue's impetus. Startled, she lays there for a moment, as the other personality impinges on her own. "Rain? It's.. water.. from the sky," she states, matter-of-factly. She crawls to her knees, and throws her arms around the blue's shoulders, unashamed of the tears that are suddenly coursing down her cheeks. "Oh, Duivelth! Duivelth! You're mine!"

N'lon struggles to keep up with the demand. "The lot of you, I need s'more herdbeast!" He bellows through clenched teeth to other Assistant Weyrlingmasters. "That's right, see he practically takes it in for himself. When his craw starts to bulge significantly, stop feeding him. We don't want to over-stuff the thing." He smirks and then looks at the gold hatchling, the first he's even seen. But his job does not require gawking and so he goes to help where he can.

Ramon shakes his head between Liette and Siulthyr, honored they're sticking with him, however loosely. "It's not over yet, but if you and Siul want to go get me a pot or something, I'll hold your spot. Or no, I'll go with you." He laughs, his eyes too round, too wild, then subdued again. "I'm fine, though."

Jania is in the process of snagging the wineskin from Kyla when the blue barrels towards Diocelen. She gasps, and nearly drops the wineskin as the blue Impresses. Surprising even herself, she lets loose with a raucous cheer. "Way to go, Diocelen!"

Xeri peers over at the other side of Aly, grinning widely,"go Dio!" amazed at the turn of events the day has brought. "I knew she'd impress." gets commented to no one in particular. Unable to help herself her gaze is drawn back to the gold, watching her walk the line.

Katarra giggles, biting her lip with excitement as the eggs continue to arrive and a lovely gold appears. "Only the second for Tajiath," she adds to D'nic's comment, giving the gold's neck a tender pat. Tajiath dips her muzzle and rumbles deep in her throat, eyes whirling fast as she proudly watches the little ones move about.

Siulthyr distractedly tosses a glance over to Liette, before he flickers a glance back to the sands. "Hn. A pot? Right, right." A deep breath and then he shakes his head slightly, taking a deep breath. Must calm the beginning-to-fray nerves.

Kyla laughs and manages to get her wine skin back. "Great. She's stuck with us forever now."

D'nic mumbles under his breath at Diocelen's impression to Duivelth, "And a new nanny for Catrina…" This clutch is going to wind up costing him so much time in interviewing new people.

Liette would probably be relieved to see Diocelen impress, only she hasn't actually been paying attention at all. Her gaze flickers over Ramon with a frown intensified only by the fact that she's finally starting to sweat and terribly at that. "What I wouldn't give for a nice thick towel right now," she comments as she ducks her head down into her own cleavage and uses the folds of her robe to wipe off her dripping forehead.

Klari doesn't gape too long, though. She makes her rounds by the eating dragonets, pausing in front of one green pair, "Slow down. It's not a race." Then she moves on again, grinning at Qhaelin's shade he's turned, "You're doing great." All this done while she carts around two bowls of food, finally handing one off to N'lon, "Hear. Take one."

Wild Wild West Egg shimmies and shakes as if dancing to it's own tune, a wave of motion rippling across it's surface. It's time! The show must go on! The curtains seem to open as a crack slowly rips up the scarlet section. Now! That's the cue! With a thunder and crack, the rest of the egg seems to dissolve and fall to the sands, leaving Majestic Clydesdale Brown Dragonet sitting there, eyes slowly blinking goo away.
Majestic Clydesdale Brown Hatchling
Chestnut pools over the broad forehead, large headknobs and open set bright eyes of this solidly built dragon, splashing down muscular shoulders and sharp spinal ridges. From his short back and barrel chest, hide pales down all four limbs to cream-colored socks for overly large hand and feet. Walnut darkens his wide wingsails, dusted with shadow along the leading edge, shadows echoed in the tapering length of his tail. Large, but never long, his compact mass lends him a hulking presence belied by the intelligence in his bright eyes.

Ramon keeps his eyes front again. No wet candidate robe contest here. Nope. No. He smiles wearily at the newest hatchling instead.

Alysia looks around, seeing the dragons. "Look, the gold's looking at the boys." See, the shiny dragon holds her attention, until another brown escapes from an egg. "Oh, look at that one!" She's not sure who she's talking to, but she gives the intelligent brown a quick smile.

Honeycomb and Buttered Toast Gold Hatchlingseems intent on going over every single candidate in the line she's on, male and female. She stumbles slightly as the brown cracks shell, oops, distracted. Then she returns to her goal one methodical step at a time.

N'lon quickly takes the bowl from Klari's hand, forfeits it to yet another weyrling pair and nods his thanks to the bluerider as there's little time for idle chat and comments. "Is the demand always this heavy?" He never thought to watch when he was once on the sands. "There, I think she's had enough." He advises a young male greerider. It's weirdand scaryhow he's easing into this whole Advisor thing.

Kaveri watches the gold silently, though her eyes brighten and her cheeks flush. She has a thing for shiny objects, so what can she say? The gold is shiny, therefore Kaveri is attracted to it. But, she snaps out of it, and stares at the brown. "Lovely. Big, too." And that's all she says.

Siulthyr stares out. "Tell me — why would you want a /towel/?" He's perplexed at that. "Oh.. I see." Yeah, he's a bit out of it. Yep, he is. Eyes widen oh-so-slightly at the next hatchling; mmm. Something with a tinge of equine in it; it must be watched, indeed. Nngh, the gold will choose who she will. But he's definitely putting bets on who that brown'll go to.

Montego watches both gold and brown, eyeing up the contrast between the two. "I didn't know it was going to be like this..it's happening so fast!" he says to the air in front of him.

Liette turns her back to the eggs and hatchlings, perhaps mistakenly considering she could get trampled every moment her attention is not on the matter at hand. Still, she's very carefully wiping at her head and neck, cleaning off the sweat with utter disregard for the thin fabric of her robe. "It's a good thing I only have to wear this once," she comments to Siulthyr and Ramon as she glances past the latter to peer at the former, getting mostly his backside this direction. "For the sweat!" she grumps at Siul.

Two greens seem to center on the same girl, making the poor candidate back up in fright until suddenly one gree huffs and turns to a boy standing just behind her and the other claims the girl after all. The boy raises one arm and lets out a whooping cheer.

Diocelen gets to her feet, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand and snuffling. "Okay, Duivelth, we'll get you something to eat. I promise," she says, her heart and eyes full of her new lifemate, as she leads him off to the side.

Honeycomb and Buttered Toast Gold Hatchling shakes herself from her ponderous inspection of each and every candidate, female or not, and picks up her pace. She skips a line of males pausing momentarily as something catches her eye. She stops completely to inspect the stocky girl with dun colored hair. What she sees seems to satisfy her as she takes her seat immediately in front of Liette.

Honeycomb and Buttered Toast Gold Hatchling's whirling gaze fixes upon Liette.

Crew> » Zhyraeth has awakened! «

Ramon gawks back at the gold, too stunned too cheer. Wow.

Xeri's feet each take a turn in the candie hop as she giggles, glancing at Liette,"if you do manage one, grab me one too, please?" peering down at her own chest that now glistens and is revealed by the gaping neckline of her robe,"Oh shells!" quickly pulling up said neckline to cover herself. Her head goes up to watch and gasps,"Liette! Go smiths!" she cheers loudly.

Klari laughs and nods to N'lon, "Pretty much." And as he hands the bowl off, she gives him her other one before returning back to fill more. Sweaty? Oh yeah, and as much as she can't usually stand it.. More than likely, the Weyrlingmaster hasn't noticed it yet. Far too busy to care about sweat, among other things. Like burning feet.

Majestic Clydesdale Brown Hatchling lumbers slowly and deliberately to his feet. Free. Thank goodness, that egg was way too small. After taking a deep breath, he peers out at the scattered groups left on the sands. Let's just watch and see what happens, shall we? Carefully he puts one oversized foot out in front of him and manages not to stumble, now the next. Hey he can do this. A few exaggerated steps more forward and he pauses to stare at the candidates. Let's do this logically, shall we? Whirling eyes move from lad to lass to lad..and the brown seems to still be looking for something to spark his interest.

New Dimensions of Terror Egg rocks once then is still, its darkness shudders. The light it tries to shine intensifies. The conflict between the two increases to unbearable proportions. The shell shatters eerily with no sound what so ever, as if the sound track had been cut. Out of the wreckage climbs its sole inhabitant and sole survivor.
Night of the Living Dead Bronze Hatchling
A base coat of dark bronze coats him like an aura of tangible fear. Tarnished gold lends an expensive flare to long legs and tail, but falls short of glory as if that's all the wealth he could afford. Obsidian claws adorn the large paws encased in the tide of amber. Slabs of malicious jade accent heavy haunches and wide spine like lichen on weathered head-stones. Corroded copper adorns low-laying head knobs and flattened neckridges. Wide, efficient wing sails are powdered with hints of navy blue, like the dust from a grave yard, over the tarnished metal base.

Montego cheers for Liette, surprise showing plainly inhis face. "Wow." is all he says.

Kaveri would cheer for Liette, but she's too surprised. Then, finally, "Wow. Good job. Congrats." She shakes her head slowly, eyes skimming over the bronze and studying the brown. "Aww. How cute."

D'nic blinks at the gold's choice. "Huh. At least this time we don't have to replace anyone…" Since Liette wasn't posted at Ista Weyr, you see. Leaning towards Katarra again, he smirks, "Think you can teach her a thing or…. ooo, another bronze!" Short attention span.

Tajiath raises a trumpet as her golden child finds Liette. Katarra looks up with a grin. "I take it you approve?" Tajiath rolls her head, wings rustling enough to brush Jaqueth. So many. So much to be proud of.

Tajiath raises a trumpet as her golden child finds Liette. Katarra looks up with a grin. "I take it you approve?" Tajiath rolls her head, wings rustling enough to brush Jaqueth. So many. So much to be proud of.

Liette turns slowly around to face the hatchling that has set herself at her feet, though her eyes fail to find who is talking to her —for only she can hear it within her mind. "What do you mean I will do?" she queries crankily, then glances down, knees going rather weak of their own volition as she drops down and just /stares/ at the eyes which stare back so intently. "Zhyraeth?"

Alysia sees the impression of the gold, and she pushes herself up on her toes. "Oh.. that's perfect." She waves towards Liette, and then drops back down so that she's looking at the dragons that are left on the sands. She glances around, trying to see where they are going.

Siulthyr about falls over as the gold targets the woman who he was just thinking was oggling his backside — but then he's doing his GroovyDance. "Smiths rule, smiths rule, smiths rule…" Uh. Okay, he stops, coughs, re-dignifies himself, and inspects this newest bronze. Interesting - very interesting. "He's a dark one," is stated with thoughtfulness, gaze torn 'tween the brown and bronze. "Oooh, /Zhyraeth/. Nifty name."

Montego looks, all bug eyed at the bronze, giving the brown a good look over too. He steps back though from the bronze, unnerrved.

Ramon leans toward Siulthyr. "Get in closer?" he offers.

Jaqueth bugles at little Zhyraeth. Not one of his full-bodied bugles, cause that might scare the little 'uns. But a soft, gentle one. It'll be at least a turn or two before he starts looking at her in /that/ way.

Majestic Clydesdale Brown Hatchling continues to plop. One foot up and then carefully down, then the next. He's out for a stroll, this one. Carefully he pauses before this candidate, then that one, walking away with a dejected headshake. Where is the one for him? On, there's a group over there celebrating something. Perhaps he'll have more luck.

A rolly little bronze makes his way finally to a stand-offish young boy who's all alone. "You want me?!?" the boy asks in sheer amazement, wrapping his arms around the thick neck. "Oh yes, yes, yes!"

Diocelen is all quiet-like off in her corner, communing with her new lifemate.

N'lon finally gets to his feet after crouching for a while and winces as his thigh aches in protest. "I guess now's the time for a breather." The steady wave as lessened to a gently trickle and so he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing a streak of blood on there. Yah, now that's attractive.

Siulthyr stares at Ramon for a moment, before leaning closer to the other with a suspcious nature that's very nearly physical. "What?" He's wary, oh yeah. Just in his nature, yup.

Alysia smiles as she sees the brown moving around. "Shards, he's just…" She tries to think of the right word. "Determined." She gives the brown an approving look, as she watches him closely, not seeing really paying attention to the other dragons.

Ramon nods his chin at Siulthyr. "Go on."

Night of the Living Dead Bronze Hatchlingshivers as if cold, then steps forward. He moves with a stilted gait, as if he hasn't quite sorted out his massive body yet. His leggs bow slightly as he walks. His head swings from side to side, seeking something spacific.

Majestic Clydesdale Brown Dragonet appears to be getting the hang of this walking thing. Clip clop, oversized feet resonating on the sands as he lazily circles the candidates. This one? No. That one? Hmm. Wait! There. Over there. In his excitement, the brown lets out a high pitch creel and dives nose first into the sand, right at the feet of a certain tall, dark haired someone. His someone.

Klari eyes N'lon before grinning, "No time for it, N'lon." Then she hands him two more bowls, "Go round up that bronze and gold. Take a breather on the way back.. A short one." And to help, she beckons them over, "Food's this way, weyrlings."

Majestic Clydesdale Brown Hatchling's whirling gaze fixes upon Siulthyr.

Crew> » Khalzekanth has awakened! «

Siulthyr shifts and shakes his head. "I'm comfortable right where I am, thank you," he states to Ramon, settling back and observing both the oh-so-dark bronze and the much more equine brown — then, he blinks, he pauses, and he stares, before twitching. "Hey — wait a moment. The one? Whatcha talkin' about, the one?" A long, long blink. "Stuck? Ooh no, you aren't. C'mon, Khalzekanth, get on up!" He leans down, and struggles with the brown for a good long moment. Strugglestruggle— plink! Cha/ching/, baby. Then, it strikes. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wai—" A pause. "His name's /Khalzekanth/!" Cue the shriek. It's coming, it's coming… there. Shriek!

Liette wipes her nose with her short sleeves and then wipse at her face as well, her cheeks flushed an embarassed red that crawls all the way up to her ears and right down into her robe. "Of course I'll get you food, I just…" The blush purples slightly as she drops down a bit more caresses headknobs that already seem familar with her roughened smith fingers.

Montego has been staring so long at the bronze's back that he sways, sailor's instinct kicking in as if he's on a roiling deck far at sea. His arms are held behind him, and he's still swaying side to side.

Xeri gasps as Siulthyr finds a lifemate,"wow! thats two smiths impressing, go us!" dancing with delight, in the moment forgetting that it means Siul'll stay at the weyr with Jyianne.

Ramon poofs out everything that was in his lungs and makes yellow-knuckled fists at his sides. And he says, "Yay," too — eventually.

Alysia beams, as she sees another impression, and then her gaze goes quickly to the two candidates near her: Montego and Xeri. She shakes her head, and brushes her hand over her forehead, "Its hot out here."

N'lon obeys the 'master, oh my, and grabs the bowls. "You guys over here," he calls to Siulthyr and Liette. "And here's one for the each of you." Bowl for you and bowl for you. "Keep feeding them regularly until you can see their stomach round-out through their skin. Trust me, indigestion is not pretty." Qh'in would really have a spell at that, heh.

Jaqueth senses a gnat directing anger in his direction from the galleries. The gnat gets a snort of hot, stinky dragon breath fired in its direction. Just enough to shoot a spray of hot, stinky dragon mucus at anyone sitting in the front row of the galleries. Blame Phoenix.

Night of the Living Dead Bronze Dragonet's lumbering gait pauses. The rusted head swivels back and forth before resting on a single form. He takes a lurching step closer to investigate, finding himself ignominiously sprawled at the feet of a ailor, though his tail ends up in the nose of a girl. The bulky bronze looks up at Montego almost pitifully.

Night of the Living Dead Bronze Hatchling's whirling gaze fixes upon Montego.

Crew> » Razgulth has awakened! «

Jyianne looks up once more at a shriek, her jaw dropping — though happily — as she spots Siulthyr with another brown.

Liette shakes herself out of her reverie with the mind that's buried itself within her own, finding it unusual… strange, but not unwelcome. She just hadn't expected it, was dead set against it. Zhyraeth moves off before her, easily taking the lead and understandably so for her stomach is the one in charge right now. The woman meanders after, dazed…

Alysia moves away from the bronze and Montego, and she mutters to Xeri, "They are impressing all around me." She looks startled, even as she calls out, "Congratulations, 'Tego." Her eyes widen as she watches him, and she gives him a happy grin.

Ramon's jaw drops, and then he pitches a yell over to Alysia and Xeri to ask, "Is that it?"

Xeri nods her head back at Alysia,"Yes, seems strange though, doesn't it?" is asked softly before darting a look at Ramon, "Umm, maybe?" her gaze going to scan the sands,"No, look, one egg left."

Kyla watches the sands and chuckles, "A nice clean hatching." Wine is sipped, "Lots of good healthy dragonets out of it." Skin is held back to Jania. "So now you loose the candidates as workers. I imagine you hate that part of a hatching."

Tajiath suddenly rises, startling Katarra who steps backward quickly. The surprised look quickly fades though as she sees where Tajiath is heading. Is something up here? Aren't all the eggs hatched? Wait… what is that lump there in the back… it looks like just a slightly higher than normal mound, but as Tajiath swipes her leg across it and carefully nudges it with her snout - another /egg/ rolls out onto the hot sands!

D'nic grins, clapping his hands a few times, "Another new bronzerider. Awesome."

Montego stops his swaying and is mesmerized as the rusted head comes to rest in front of him. "Razgulth. Raaaazzzzgulth! Yeah, food! I'll get you some right now." and with an apologetic look to Alysia for his dragon's tail so near her face, he starts walking away, arm slung over the hatchling's damp shoulder.

Patchwork Quilt Egg rolls out into the emptiness of the sands. Hmm. Now what?

Katarra nudges D'nic with an elbow, nodding toward the newly uncovered egg. "She finally uncovered it," she says.

Jania sighs, and admits, "It's going to take a while for me to get things running smoothly again." She takes the wineskin and slugs back a healthy gulp.

D'nic turns quickly in the direction of Tajiath and the unveiled egg, chuckling to the Weyrwoman, "Flair for the dramatic, hmm?"

Ramon squints at that last egg. "That's it? That's the last one, right?"

Kaveri bites down on her lower lip, cocking her head to watch the remaining egg, before letting her gaze wander to everyone else. Sigh. She won't even bother being all happy for everyone. She's just tired, drained, and wants to get this over with.

Alysia just stares as the gold pushes another egg onto the sand. "That's.. pretty." She glances at Xeri, and then asks, uncertainly, "Is that.. another egg? Do they usually do that? Hide eggs?" Its hot, and she shifts her weight.

Patchwork Quilt Egg moves again, a bit of a shiver, a bit of a quiver. Nice to be out of that pile of sand.

Klari stops what she's doing to watch Tajiath, eyes going wide. "Where… But the…" Nah uh. Klari doesn't seem to really grasp what happened. Give her time. But she does fill another bowl since, of course, it will hatch… Won't it?

Patchwork Quilt Egg gives a shudder from top to bottom as if shaking off its quilt covering at last. Lines of patchwork split with a loud crack, falling in large pieces to the sand. When all sides have fallen a bundle of gold is revealed, one single cap of shell still sitting atop her head. Dripping wings unfurl, and she takes a tentative step, tipping back and forth while she tries to get her balance. Excited by her new surroundings, she looks all around, knocking her newborn hat from her head. Startled, she gives it a kick and tosses her snout high to issue a creeling announcement of her arrival.
Gossamer Gloss Cross-Stitch Hatchling
Natures whimsy criss-crosses a shadowed golden pattern across muscle and withers, drawing the eye over neat and even proportions. Sunlight splashes playfully over her rounded headknobs, pouring down to meld with buttery cream swirls decorating her snout. Wings strong and sure are deceptively swathed in delicate ivory, glistening gossamer highlights threading their way throughout and contrasted by the burnished tan shadows of bone and sinew when seen through the light. A smooth, shiny sheath of flaxen coats her belly, while tawny sand sweeps darker tones across her underside and whips up along the length of her tail. A unique ocher weave briefly marks her spine, a touch of whimsical distinction only outdone by the special brilliance of her well-rounded eyes eyes that shine like a beacon from her emotional soul.

Sih'tyr stares. "What the /shell/ just happened?!" he explodes out in question, looking up from his Zek.

N'lon's gaze sweep over to the divulged egg and crosses his arms in a show of approval. Someone's life will change drastically once more. "Fancy that, where'd that little number come from?" Eyes dart over to meet Klari's as if he's been expecting this. "Sure it will, see the care she's giving it?" Yes, the expert animal observer knows these things.

Alysia gasps, and her hand covers her mouth. "Its.. another egg." She looks around, confusedly, and she stares, "I thought.. they couldn't have more than one gold egg." She stares at the gold, "That's.. beautiful." She can't help it. Its a gold."

Xeri blinks at the newly uncovered egg appears, "What the?" escapes, totally stunned by the dragonet that hatching. "Its /another/ gold! what?" glancing wildly around the sands for an answer.

Ramon stares some more. "Okay, that's gold, right?"

Montego turns back, just as he reaches N'lon and the bowls of meat. "What? Another gold?" Ah! There's hope yet!

Kaveri /stares/ as the egg hatches. "Sweet Faranth. Another gold. That's..not right." Looking bewildered, she shrugs. "She's beautiful, though. Look at those eyes!" Trust Kaveri to go for the eyes. Sigh. She resumes gnawing on her lower lip, watching the hatchling curiously.

B'roughs starts himself. He wasn't in on the origional deal, though he knew /something/ had been brought from fort… a 'Gift' for a 'Debt' suposedly from Wullan. "Some gift!" He mutters to himself, more loudly than intended. The candidates in the back should be able to hear him.

Kyla grins and nods. "It's ok." Again she nods and actually giggles, "It worked." Jania gets a little hug, "I've been dying to say something! It wasn't harmed. I swear Isabeth was determined for this!"

Alysia just stares at the gold. "That's beautiful." She can't really seem to think of anything, as the surprise hatchling appears. She watches the gold intently, and she murmurs, "Look at her…"

Diocelen hears all this talk about 'gold' and 'another' and looks up from Duivelth's sated form to stare at the second gold. She's not even going to /try/ to explain that one away, though she'll likely romanticize over it at a later date.

Jania sputters and eyeballs the gold dragonet. "Is that why I kept catching K'rill down here on the Hatching Grounds?" Grumble, grumble. And here she thought he was visiting her.

Gossamer Gloss Cross-Stitch Hatchling raises her muzzle to look at Tajiath, eyes awhirl as they focus. Oooo… looks like me. Sorta. But not quite. No time for that now though - she has important business to attend to. A few more steps and she seems to have a good handle on it, spreading her wings a bit for balance. Yes, balance is important. Can't be getting all tangled up and starting over. Just wouldn't do at all.

Ramon backs up tentatively, but his strides are as broad as they are slow. He looks behind him at the crowd, and squints. Where are they?

Klari, of course, doesn't look amused as it hatches. After nearly dropping the bowl, she sighs and looks around to see if she really was the last one to know it was there. As she looks back out to the dragonet, she mumbles, "Last to know so I wouldn't give someone -else- the job." Not that twenty-two pairs including -two- golds would make her give up her job, but.. You know. Finally, she grins, "She is a beauty."

Alysia is in shock. Two golds. SOmeone will explain it all to her eventually, and she doesn't know how it happened, but there she is. She stares at the gold dragon for a long time.

Xeri's hand moves to close her mouth, though still she stares at the unexpected gold. Glancing to her side for a moment, "But.. how?" asking Aly the question that seems to be on everyones lips. Robe and heat forgotten as she goes back to staring.

Katarra moves to Tajiath's side as the newest gold trundles away. "You did a wonderful job taking care of her," she assures with a hug - well, as much as one can hug something that big. "Isabeth will be relieved she wasn't harmed by the trip over."

N'lon makes sure that the food for this one is prepared, sees that it is and then watches the scene unfold further. "That means we're gonna have two drama-queens to instruct. But this looks like a well-rounded bunch besides the obvious." Nod. Exchanged glances are given to other members of the Weyr. Now Ista's skies will be home to even more dragons.

Jaqueth doesn't /actually/ turn his back on the Gossamer gold, but he's paying more attention to the other hatchlings. After all, they're /his/. She's not. Everything cool with Coorankath? Righteous with Razgulth? Dandy with Duivelth? V.. uh. Veritable ith Visheth? Z, hmm. Zany with Zhyraeth? Kick-ass with Khalzekanth? Mighty-fine with Mieloketh?

Liette blinks steadily at N'lon, looking offended. Her lifemate is, however, too busy stuffing her face at the moment to really care about it. "Drama queen???" she snaps at N'lon, her face flushed for a different reason now. "We will not be drama /queens/." She is not a drama queen, though she's not defending that point very well right now, is she?

Razgulth nudges Montego's hand roughly, nearly knocking out all the meat within it. "Ok, ok! Here…here!" he says, busily stuffing his mate. For life.

Coorankath peers at the new gold, rumbling under his breath. Qh'in blinks at him a few times, before resting a quiet hand on his neck. "How about you grow up before you start deciding which of the two will be yours, hmm?" The answer from the bronze to that sends the Weyrling into a laughing fit. "Oh, my pardon," he gasps out, "I didn't realize they'd both be yours!"

Gloriana watches, round-eyed, between bouts of murmuring delight towards Visheth. The small blue is, for his part, rather stuffed. Or getting there.

Gossamer Gloss Cross-Stitch Hatchling quickly finds her step and wobbles no more. Something pulls at her now, drawing her steadily onward. It isn't quite clear, but she knows if she just keeps putting one taloned foot in front of the other she'll get there eventually. In fact, with each step the feeling gets stronger, the knot closing in on something special. She flutters her wings, still moist with goo and glistening all the more for it as the excitement grows. She is close! She is close!

D'nic overhears his former Records Keeper's comments, and calls over to the new bronzer, "Don't start counting your catches before they fly, Qhaelin." Or, whatever he's calling himself now.

Ramon looks for his confirmation one more time — is that it? Is that the last? When he gets the answer he's looking for, he sure doesn't waste his time heading out to the wider, cooler, more solid world. Strange thing is, he looks … elated.

Klari hands the bowl off to N'lon as she hears him, "Do me the honor of taking the last one." She's going to have N'lon trained to do things without being told in no time! Maybe. Hands free, the Weyrlingmaster crosses her arms, watching to see where the gold goes.

Ramon heads out towards the main bowl.

Alysia just watches the gold. The rest of the hatchlings seem to have impressed, and she couldn't take her eyes off the tiny queen even if she wanted to. She breaths softly, "She's intense." Her words are inane, but its all she can think about.

Xeri stares still, though not as motionless as before, heat from the sands again felt her feet shuffle her left then right. Nodding absently to Alysia, "She is."

N'lon is beginning to feel like he's getting the shaft as the new-guy, but someone needs to feed these youngsters and so it might as well be him. Then he can bark orders at the newbies next-clutch. Not that he's aching for one again so soon. Bowl is brandished like an enchanted chalice meant only for the worthy. And in a sense, it is.

Gossamer Gloss Cross-Stitch Hatchling pauses and rears her head as if a foggy blanket has just been lifted and the tentative thread she has so far been following is suddenly as bright and clear as a golden path leading her straight to the center of her perfectly knitted universe. With a triumphant creel she makes a beeline for Alysia and happily wraps her in glistening moist wings, overly enthusiastic as she head-butts the girls chest and looks up to meet a set of brown eyes with a whirling brilliant rainbow of iridescent delight.

Gossamer Gloss Cross-Stitch Hatchling's whirling gaze fixes upon Alysia.

Crew> » Alasseth has awakened! «

M'tego pumps a fist into the air, the one with the mangy piece of meat Razgulth's refused. "Yeah!" Is all he can say.

Kyla chuckles as the Fortian..or Istan gold now, finds her lifemate. "Yes. Now on to the celebration." She gives Jania a squeeze on the shoulder, but takes the skin. "See you later." And away she goes.

Kyla heads out towards the main bowl.

Alysia gasps, and she wraps her arms around the gold that just headbutted her. "Careful, there, you shouldn't do that, you might hurt yourself." She just blinks, in surprise, "Yes, we can get you something to eat. We can. Its right this way." Her brain catches up with her mouth, and she explains, in a bemused tone, "This is Alasseth." She doesn't shout, the intense exuberance of her lifemate keeping her attention.

Xeri takes a step back, smiling at the new pair, "congrats Alysia." Glancing around she notes that is the end and shuffles out.

N'lon knows this would draw to a close eventually and so is prepared when Alysia finds her way over. "Congratulations girl. You did us proud up there." Now here's your gory meat. "Feed her gently, now." And for once, a rare light crosses his face and it's not the reflection from the queen's hide either.

Klari waves her hands about for the weyrlings to follow her, "Weyrlings… If you'll all follow me to the barracks. Bring your bowls if your lifemates aren't done eating yet." And with that, Klari steps over towards the barracks, N'lon will make sure they all make it in, right?

Xeri heads out towards the main bowl.

Diocelen squeaks as Alysia joins the crowd on the side, and with the new gold, too. She points, for a sleepy lifemate, at the new goldrider. "Oh, look Duivelth! Alysia got the.. the… /other/ gold!" Yes, again, she'll have to puzzle that one out later.

Katarra leans close to Tajiath, her lips barely moving in echo of the mental words they share. Then she turns and catches D'nic's eye, another one of those unspoken signals that comes with familiarity.

Jania is left without beverage! Hey! That's not fair! Jania glances back to the sands just in time to see Alysia bond to the gold. "Oh, wonderful!" Jania glances up to the stands, doublechecking that K'rill hadn't arrived. Ha. Probably busy with Fort's eggs. With a sigh, she turns, and heads out to find her own bit of beverage.

Kaveri heads out towards the main bowl.

Up on the viewing ledges, Shyona goes home.

Up on the viewing ledges, Aiwenth goes home.

Jania heads out towards the main bowl.

D'nic nods ever so slightly to Katarra. Gotcha.

Liette finally pays attention, turning her eyes away from Zhyraeth who now wobbles unsteadily for she's /very/ tired and so /very/ full. "Another gold? What? What?" That's what you get when you combine an oblivious smith with an utterly enchanting dragonet. Utter confusion. Yes.

Alysia moves towards N'lon, and takes the meat. "Yes… come on, Alasseth, lets get into the barracks." She leads the gold carefully, as they walk towards the barracks.

N'lon keeps up the rear, making sure all's well and orderly. Yes, he's dependable like that. Cough. "I need a drink." He says to himself and everyone as he nudges a bunch of slow-pokes along. He really needs to clean up himself, but that would waste good celebration time and so he doesn't just yet.

D'nic walks out.

Gloriana looks between the two golds in confusion, and shakes her head a bit, but her fingers stay resting, still, on her blue. And she murmurs, "Visheth, love… come on. This way. I'll give you more there…." She moves to follow along with everyone else.

Up on the viewing ledges, Okelani goes home.

Katarra walks out.

Diocelen takes a deep breath, resting a hand on her lifemate's head. "Come on, Duivelth. We've got to go to our new home, now." She sighs happily.

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