The following is a log of roleplay on Threadfall MUSH, logged by Zarvind.
All references to the world and characters of Pern™ based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyrightę 1967 by Anne McCaffrey, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern« is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey and used here with permission.

The soft mist of a cool, tropical, winter evening clings to the black rocks of Ista, tendrils permeating the bowl to leave an eerie gauze over the Weyr. All is still, silent, serene - and suddenly alive with a low thrumming that seems to well from the very depth of the dead volcano. Growing, the insistent hum of welcoming dragons echoes to something of a fever pitch. In a matter of seconds, everyone at Ista knows that the eggs Hatch. Promptly.

Candidate Barracks - Ista Weyr(#121RAJ$)
    Natural stone pillars rise from the smooth floor to the high ceiling in this large cavern, its space easily enough to accommodate more than a hundred cots and presses with them. Spaced along even rows and broken up every ten or so by a square table with chairs surrounding it, these cots are almost always neatly made - no doubt for fear of a surprise inspection - with their presses shut at the foot of them. Laundry bins and choreboards fill the recesses, as do a few more personal items left here and there by those who currently inhabit the barracks.
    There's a home-spun quality to these barracks, as if those who live here have taken a liking to their environment. Or perhaps it's just that the decorations - hung on the walls by means of lively tapestries - are cheerful and contented, meant to brighten the hearts of those who have most likely been taken from their comfortable beds and instilled in these noisier barracks.
OOC Candidate Info
Obvious exits:
Southern Cavern

A mop of black caps an awkward seeming demeanour, dripping askew over one ear in unpractised roguishness. His face is highly angular, sly curve of cheek almost childish in the peak of youthful delicacy. Grey eyes and clipped chin straggle casually together with the rest of this youth's sturdy but slightly lanky form, long legs claiming a striding gait as an obscure slur marks alto voice.
White cloth, cobbled together with minimal fuss at the sides and the neck forms a misshapen robe that fits loosely over Zarvind. It even seems overlarge-- white stretches to slightly beyond his knees; off-colour stains are still visible below the neckline from previous hatchings; the whole drapes like an apron over him, slightly rakish where it slips off one shoulder and the resemblance to a toga becomes clearer. His sandals are standard issue, but thick, patched and over-patched to a deep brown shade.

He is 14 Turns, 4 months, 7 days old.

Jalani disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Goldean disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Vesta finally blinks and slips out of her clothes, disregarding anyone about. She pulls the robe over her head and runs her trembling fingers through her short cap of white-blonde hair.

Ranwen disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Shaioni clasps her hands together, watching her two friends leave. Sighing, she watches J'sen patiently.

Kassandra is sitting, white-faced, on her cot, waiting patiently.

Abalonie disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Vesta disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Serriena disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Jonah disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Sure, Valin's nervous. He's a little clumsy and slow in getting into his robe, but he's not giggly or chatty or any such thing. He just gets dressed, and... goes.
Valin disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Cymber's got all she can do to control her hands' shaking, perched on the edge of her cot and staring at the floor as if that'll help. She's changed though, hair neatly braided up.

Dakar is waiting near Ineban, standing there and conversing with his friend. He may be nervous as the great shard, but he shows it not.

Kaera sighs and smooths her robe down, pushing the thick braid back over a shoulder. She glances nervously around at everyone else, then just down at the ground.

Dakar disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Llilian disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Cymber disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Goran is very nervous, and feeling very bare; he's used to trous, after all, and the robe doesn't seem to cover much. He looks about at the others, trying not to show that he really wants to go and hide.

Ineban disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Kassandra eeps, jumps off her cot, and leves.
Kassandra disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Thalesin disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

Belena sits down on her cot, a big grin on her face, after getting into her robe and watching Valin disappear. She's a little nervous...even if she doesn't seem to be showing it as she sends reassuring grins around at all her fellow Candidates.

Belena disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Goran follows the others out..
Shansi disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Goran disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Shaioni disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.
Kaera sighs and gets up, following everyone else, obviously very nervous.
Kaera disappears into a tunnel behind a tapestry.

You follow the winding path of a tunnel to where it meets the Hatching Sands.

Hatching Sands - Ista Weyr(#78RJ$)
    Unforgiving black sand layers the ground, its temperature almost unbearable. It heightens the inherent warmth of tropical Ista so that its becomes more and more difficult to tolerate as the moments pass. Steps will mince across the Sands constantly and instantly, without fail no matter how thick soles may be. Indeed, the heat here gets to be so unbearable that it is not uncommon for Candidates and Riders alike to be ushered out near fainting by Healers.
    Looking up, the ceiling proves to be slightly jagged and irregular, hewn of the rocks themselves and untouched over the Turns. Tucked into the slight curve of the wall are great ledges that over look the Sands, overhanging the galleries and accessible only from the massive entrance in the exterior face of the mountain. Beneath these are the galleries which serve as resting places for onlookers with their stone benches arranged in even semi-circles that rise in neat, upward tiers.
Trinyth's and Morpheth's Clutch
Obvious exits:
Sandy Niche          Entrance

J'sen comes out from a half-obscured tunnel under the galleries.

Belena walks out onto the Sands, bowing at at Trinyth and Morpheth before joining the other Candidates in the semicircle, lifting her feet a little at the heat coming through her sandals.

Goran steps out onto the sands with diffident steps, already feeling the heat. He joins the loose semicircle of candidates already surrounding the eggs, bowing stiffly from the waist to Trinyth and Morpheth, then to their riders, before he turns to the eggs...

Shaioni steps onto the sands, fingers linked heavily together as she paces forth from the entranceway. A pause, and a wavery bow is given to the clutchparents waiting upon the sands, and then to their riders. Almost immediately, she high-tails it for Vesta's side, edging in beside her friend.

Alyssa looks to the eggs which already move rather frantically, herself catching a swallow that is quite visible. "In good time," she comments, shifting her hands behind her back where they rest loosely. "Let's hope all goes as well as last time, hm?" she adds, looking happily nervous.

Enforced poundings rock The Thick Of The Jungle Egg , and with one, final shove, egg becomes dust, and the first of Trinyth and Morpheth's clutch spralls onto the black sands. The scrawny, minty-water green hesitates only a moment before making the first pairing of the clutch, in a completely unsurprised Divia. "My, Thansith, you really do need to grow, don't you?" Her nose performs a little sniff; best, as usual.

Kaera walks nervously onto the sands and glances around, bowing towards Trinyth and Morpheth dragons before walking towards the loose semicircle. She frowns and suddenly wishes she had taken the time to find her boots, but can't worry 'bout that now. She joins the other candidates and just starts to stare at the eggs, moving from one foot to the other.

Shansi walks out onto the sands with an air of inept dignity, trying to hold onto whatever foothold her sandles can handle. A bow, or two, is offer to Trinyth and Morpeth as she moves away from the group, heading straight towards Goran. Whether her hand finds him or not is completely up to him.

J'sen follows the last of the candidates out, showing a bit of nervousness himself. He finds a bit of wall to lean against, his eyes riveted on the eggs and the candidates.

Vesta clutches Shaioni's hand with her left and points, "Oh...look! Green!"

Teline, Hana and Khenai, three lower caverns girls, burst into giggles as a duo of blues, emerging moments before from Long Forgotten Rituals Egg and Twilit Tumult Egg, trapise to two nearby young men, bronzerider wannabes both. "Tiath!" calls out the first, seconded by the smaller, darker boy, "I hear you, Merinleth."

Kassandra has moved to stand on Vesta's other side. The Hatching and Impressing of the green to Divia elicits a combination of nervous squeak and clasped hands.

Llilian blinks, so sudden, this first hatching and pairing, the tension of the moment reflected in tightly clenched hands.

Shaioni stares at the newly Impressed Divia. " That was quick," she gasps, her hand clutching tightly to Vesta's. " Maybe they'll all be so fast?" Not likely. " And two blues!"

Zarvind has on a look of great dread as his reinforced sandals makes contact with the sands, but the lack of pain encourages a subsequent smile spreading from lip nearly to his eyes. He joins the others in bowing: to dam and sire, and one sweeping bow for the riders, then shuffles into step in the rough semi-circle. A dragon's come--he looks.

Dakar watches as the green makes its way into the world. Eyes widen a fraction, the young man noting this as the first birthing he has ever seen. He is between Ineban and Cymber, and glances to either side.

Goldean smiles toward the first impression, which gets a nice clap and a smile. Scooting himself toward Dakar he looks around. The little bundle of energy seems to have kept himself and expells all the energy from his blood.

Valin murmurs, "Wouldja lookit that," finding he /does/ have a voice. His head lolls to one side curiously as he addresses nobody in particular, but the folks around him -- Dakar and Jonah among the closest -- might hear. As wondrously awed as he might be, he frowns slightly, thoughtfully.

Glaze Over Ochre Egg has arrived.

Serrienacan't believe her eyes. She's seen a dragon hatch. It is wonderful. "Cymber did you see that?" she breathes moving closer to her friend. "Isn't it wonderful?"

Glaze Over Ochre Egg shifts tentatively on the hot sands, as if feeling things out. It goes still for a moment then rocks violently until the hatchling inside has to be dizzy. There's another long pause followed by a barely perceptible bulging on either side of the crude looking egg, like the hatchling held safely within is stretching for all its might. A moment passes, the bulging fades and all is still again.

Cymber doesn't quite jump, but the girl's definitely startled by the eggs sudden hatching and the green's immediate birth. Her smile wavers into existence at the pairing, solidifying a little further as she looks to those beside her. "I did, Serri.. Yes," is her whispered response to her friend.

Thalesin rakes a hand through his hair, sending it into further fluffy disarray. "Shards," he whispers, eyes widening as they try to find just where they should rest: on the eggs, on the hatchlings, on the other Candidates? What's a boy to do?

Kaera first watches the green, then the two blues, glancing around at all the other candidates, biting down hard on her bottom lip. She tries to smile at the girl next to her, but gets an understanding look before turning back to the eggs. She shifts from foot to foot, but isn't really thinking about her feet.

Ineban glances back to Dakar, nervous smile on his face. He turns then, watching the first impressions with wide-eyed amazement.. and there's the eggs to watch, too. He wipes one sweaty hand off on his robe, eyes darting this way and that.

Jonah manages a gasp at the dragonets bust forth around him and he watches as eggs around him waiver back and forth.

Jalani leans over to right a quivering candidate, whispering something in their ear. The youngster bursts into tears but does start to pay attention.

Abalonie stays away from the main group, grabbing hold of one of the older candidates hand as she just looks out onto the sands. Her only motion, for now, is the rapt attention of her eyes, as they flicker from the first impression to the second.

Goldean is standing next to Ineban actually, his gaze travels from the recent impression and then travel toward the rocking egg. Since he seems not to be very energentic and just looks nervous toward the egg again, a smile bursts onto his face, he's happy!

Belena grins from ear to ear as she sees the first Impressions, looking around at all the Candidates then at the eggs again. It seems she can't find just what she wants to look at as she jumps from foot to foot, her feet on automatic at the moment, it seems.

Vesta oohs softly and reaches out to squeeze Kassandra's hand as she shifts from side to side. A drop of sweat tracks down her forehead, down her nose and drips. She reaches up to wipe away the wetness and then rubs her sweaty hands on her robe, before clutching Shaioni's hand again.

*Bounce* *Bounce* *crack!* goes Triumph And Tragedy Egg, it's impatient hatchling giving it a stern beating, until the overlarge and undershaded hatchling, the color of faded pine, tumbles free. Keshasa, High Reaches born and bred, emits a roar of triumph as big as her lifemate's, as the pale brown comes near, "Shasa's Imegnth!"

Goran 's eyes widen more at that first impression, and he looks about himself at the other candidates..wondering if they are as nervous as he. The rocking of the eggs also keeps him on edge, wondering when they will explode and what will be their results. And then he feels that hand reach out to him and squeezes it like a lifeline, a smile turned to Shansi in sheer relief.

Ranwen watches the green who has just hatched, her eyes wide, awe writ upon her delicate features.

Fiery Destructive Wrath Egg has arrived.

Kassandra gets her hand squeezed, and squeezes back, her palm slightly wet. One foot, then the other, gets picked up and replaced surreptitiously as she watches the Impressions with bright, nervous eyes.

Fiery Destructive Wrath Egg doesn't tremble so much as topple, shifting so that it rocks onto its side in the warm embrace of searing black Sands. Inner turmoil obvious, this fierce egg gives a rather eye-boggling display as the colors shift one unto the other as so many fiery hues in one unlikely melting pot. This persists for several agonizingly long moments.

Llilian continues in rapt silence, keeping to ehrself, holding out no hands to anyone, instead clasping them before herself.

Shaioni hangs onto Vesta, as tightly as she can without actually hurting her fellow Candidate. " It's all so sudden," she whispers. " And look at that one." Hand points out the two shaking upon the sands. " Those two... I wonder what colors they'll be..." Ranwen is spied, and a hand is raised to gain her friend's attention.

J'sen actually looks nostalgic as he watches the first impressions, standing back as the assistant weyrlingmasters take the first pairs off to find food for thier new lifmates.

Petite, pretty and peridot is the green that emerges from Symmetry In Convolution Egg, a green that daintily darts towards demure Physe, formerly of Palpin Hold. Dark eyes meet those of whirling blue, and red lips open wide to emit words that come straight from the heart: "Ooh, Pyrynyth. I'm sure we can find porcine for you."

Dakar watches with awed silence, as the eggs move and writhe as the lives within them struggle to see the world for the first time.

Cymber doesn't know where to look, from rocking egg to shattering egg, to tumbling hatchlings her gaze trails, widening in increments with time's passage as her nervous fingers run along the sides of her robe.

Vesta turns her gaze upon a fiery looking egg that has toppled. She ohs softly and watches it, bottom lip held between teeth.

Shansi's fingers tightly entwine with Goran's for she, for one, is more nervous than she would ever like to admit. Those eggs rocking! Surely they are a bit.. oh.. clumsy? But to do the job they must be like that, or so she wants to believe. A small smile is quirked right back at Goran, "Not nervous, are you?"

Indeed, very much like the crude pottery it seems to depict, the Glaze Over Ochre Egg splits with a sharp bisection down the middle, dust-sized fragments slivering from the open gash. In a matter of seconds, the blackened-ruddy hue of the sphere has been pushed aside in favor of a sumptuously arranged green dragonet.

Serrienacan't stop looking. Everything is observed and memorized in her brain for later use. She ignores the sweat beginning to appear on her brow and watches.

--** Sensually Verdant Green Hatchling **--

Pale seafoam swirls and crashes in wild defiance over a richly emerald hide, every shade and shadow perfection incarnate as it graces the velvety of form of this most desirous greens. A dainty and awe-inspiring beauty, every lush shade bespeaks the inherent grace with which she is gifted - apparent in every nuance of her figure from the filigreed carriage of her slenderly wedge-shaped head, crowned with ornately coiled turquoise headknobs, to the sinuous line that winds its way down the length of her back to the soft spade of her cobalt-kissed tail. The muscles of her shoulders and flanks flow and ripple beneath the sisal-softness of her verdantly hued hide, lending hints of the superb agility with which she moves - lissome and luxurious. Artfully ornate wingsails drape themselves in every warm shade of summertime: Tendrils of braided wisteria beset with shadows of warm olive. Touched with sparkling rivulets in every fathomable shade of oceanic aquamarine, delicately honed wingbones seem to move as slowly breaking waves when extended to reveal tantalizing hints of their exquisite fragility when furled. Softened angles surface at her extremities, enhancing lithe sensuality highlighted with spinners' webs of palest gold that glimmer across her hips, haunches, and even under her tender belly - aureate emblazons superimposing the affluent emeralds of her hide. Faintest blue tinges her elongated tail, a striking compliment echoed in preen-happy talons and a proud neck.

Kassandra ohs softly, squeezing Vesta's hand a little harder. "Look at her," she says, pointing at the new-hatched green with her free hand. "She's gorgeous."

Zarvind looks a trifle bewildered as he takes his measure of each dragonet, and naturally fails to keep track of Impressions. But "hey I know that one," he mutters towards the last meeting of eyes, and takes a tighter, firmer grip on the slight girl's hand beside him. This is familiar ground after all, if not home; his eyes briefly follow the new hatchee's movements.

Ineban's hands ball into fists, held tightly against his side. "Lots of greens already.." is his only comment. "But georgious."

Goldean smiles as his hands just clasp toward together as he see's the green hatchling in his head he seems to be chuckling but outside the grin on his face seems to be spreading farther and farther apart is an 'Oh so happy way. "Look a green." Is said, probably to no one but it still is said.

Ranwen is quiet, though her mouth is open slightly, she seemingly on the perpetual edge of saying something as she watches.

Kaera gasps and watches the hatchlings and the eggs, moving one hand to her shoulder to push the thick braid back. She watches the eggs shake, but can't really bring herself to say anything to either of the girl's standing next to her. A slight smile plays over her lips as she watches the latest green, but still make no other noise. She stands on one foot for a moment before having to switch to the other one, the heat of the sands obviously getting to her.

Belena watches with bright eyes as the eggs rock, and hatch, coninuing to grin as they hatch. "They're so beautiful," she whispers, half to herself, and half to the girl standing beside her. "Gorgeous."

Alyssa just looks the part: She's pleased and it shows. "Perhaps a good sign, indeed," she can be heard to comment, her own feet shifting methodically with Turns of practice guiding the constant moving of her readily singed feet. "Lots of greens," she echoes thoughtfully.

Vesta gasps softly as the egg reveals its green inhabitant, and she glances at Sandi for a split second, "Oh, yes. Simply lovely." She breathes deeply and hops a bit as she suddenly realizes she's been standing too still in awe.

Shaioni's eyes widen suddenly as the green emerges... and doesn't immediately Impress. " How stunningly beautiful," she murmurs, fingers closing gently around Vesta's. " I wonder..." She trails off, silent again.

Valin rocks from side to side like many of his fellow Candidates, more from nerves than discomfort from the sands; his sandals are heavy duty after all. Poor fellow. First Hatching -- ever, either witnessed or participated in -- he's just... bewildered, often blinking and trying to keep up with it all.

Serriena murmurs "Beautiful." Only that.

Jonah watches in amazement as more eggs burst forth, he hears someone remark about a green that had appeared, and he recognized the one it had impressed. He is finally relaxing.

Goran 's mouth form an 'oh' at the beauty of the green that just hatched, and his large hand squeezes Shansi's tight. "Very nervous..." he manages once his voice starts working again. "Look at that......" and that, and that, as hatchlings hatch right and left around him. "Ain't you?"

Cymber's pent breath is loosed in a single instant, and the girl swallows as her eyes alight upon the delicate form of the new-hatched green. Too involved in what's going on is she to even be rocking the heat from her feet.

How Dakar can keep his nervously hid beneath the surface is a mystery. He certainly feels it, lips pursed, the young man biting on the inside of one cheek.

Abalonie stays silent, uttterly silent.. eyes do flicker appreciatively to the newly hatched gree, but she comments nothing to no one.

Thalesin absently scuffs one foot as he gawps at the emerging hatchlings, then lets loose a muffled curse, apparently as he manages to get sand in his sandal. A shake of his foot remedies that, though it hardly lends dignity. So he goes back to staring.

T'rrent just stands back for the moment, echoing the same sentiment as the Weyrwoman. "/Lots/ of greens..." He shoots an odd look up at Morpheth for something or other, chuckling and shaking his head at whatever it was. "Yes, Morpheth. They are tiny."

Llilian's eyes drift from quick impressions, to this much longer one, a glance offered along the rows of Candidates, more than a little curiosity there.

Fiery Destructive Wrath Egg is tired of this waiting business, it seems. Whatever struggles within will soon be without to gauge the force of the interior pounding, the shell bulging oddly as various limbs jar against the sides rather insistently. Tiny scars appear on the hard surface as it threatens to give way to whatever may yet be contained. Soon.

Ranwen oohs softly as she watches the plethora of greens which crawl from their eggs into the world at large. Her eyes return to the unhatched eggs now, watching them intently.

Vesta shivers a bit, despite the heat and leans over to whisper loudly to Shaioni, "I wonder too." She gives her friend a warm smile and looks back to the eggs and hatchlings.

Triumphant tremors from Mysteries Of The Deep Egg send a little blue hatchling hurtling towards a group of candidates. A midnight shaded talon plunges towards Ista's Khenai, her friends running away with a scream as their friend falls. Korbis, a healer-cum-candidate dashes across, ready to help, but instead, turns his eyes to the inky blue. "That wasn't nice, Mhriyth. Say sorry!"

Shansi laughs quietly, nudging Goran with her elbow, her grip on his not loosing nary a bit. "You shouldn't be nervous. This is nothing." Or so she might try to convince herself. "Me? Nervous?" She snorts incredulously, "Not at all!" One can't help but notice that quivvering quality in her voice.

Kassandra catches her breath as one of the female Candidates is injured by a little blue hatchling. Her free hand comes to her mouth, and, if it was possible to become any paler, she does so, hand to her mouth. At least she's not going to be sick. She hopes.

Ineban once again rubs a sweaty palm on the side of his robe, rocking from foot to foot more nervously than uncomfortably. As each egg hatches and each Impression made, a tight-lipped smile spreads across his face. His eyes are drawn to those who want to take their time, though. Both hatchlings and eggs.

Sensually Verdant Green Hatchling steps away from the shattered remains of her home with an impatient snort. Her body language is eloquent as she turns to eye the shell fragments as if they were much more trouble than they should have been. With a delicate sigh she turns and spreads her wings, as much to give them a moment to try as to show them to the audience she's just realized she has. A sweet croon is directed to her sire, maybe a tiny bit of it to her dam, then she proceeds to put on a show, posing and crooning for the crowd.

Goran shudders at the mishap with the blue, but then has to smile as a lifemate is found just like that. "Aye...I think I liked em better when they were just eggs, sitting there all silent and still" he notes to Shansi, the not-nervous one. "Who d'you think that green will take? The real pretty one?" As if they weren't all like that.

Shaioni allows a soft laugh to escape her lips. " Look at her," she murmurs to the candidates closest. " Look at the way she poses... that lady's going to be a handful for whoever Impresses her."

Dakar chuckles as he watches the green pose for the mass of candidates and riders who have assembled here. He glances to Ineban for a moment, nudges the fellow, and then returns to his watching.

Vesta shrinks back a bit at the sight of an injured candidate. And the, dragonrider Impressed. She shivers again, and turns her eyes to happier sights...yes, that lovely green. Dark blue eyes follow the green's movements.

Zarvind has a hopping young woman on the other end of his arm. It's painful, and he switches the link from palm to a precarious finger-hold, his own thick footwear standing him in good stead in the heat. He glances up, just in time to spy the last attack, the falling candidate, and face crumples into a rictus of a glower. But a green's show distracts him, and its to that he turns the expression to, as logical succession.

Valin snorts quietly in amusement as his gaze falls upon the green in the limelight, as it were. " 'Minds me of some people, she does..."

Jonah gazes as the little green hatcling spreads her wings and shows off, them manages a grin at her anitcs.

Thalesin can't help but roll his eyes just a bit at the preening green, seeming to relax--but only just a bit. "Showoff," he murmurs, gaze shifting to one of the other hatchlings... and then to the injured Candidate. "Shards," he repeats, this time sounding a little unsettled.

Goldean looks about, his eyes dancing to the movement of the eggs, but of course he can't keep his eyes off that one green, "So pretty." He smirks a little bit more toward the green's antics as he just watches silently. His gaze moves around the green as he just watches, silently watching feet not even noticed as he steps to the side next to Ineban.

Kaera watches the newest hatchlings for a moment before glancing around to all of her fellow candidates, frowning as she watches the hurt one. She closes her eyes for a moment, just a moment, before turning her gaze back towards the eggs. Kaera's frown disapears as a slight smile appears on her face. She bites down on her lip again, still hopping from foot to foot, but trying not to notice that it doesn't do much good.

Cymber notes that show, eyes rivetted upon the elegant green. But instead of fear, her lips form the curve of a smile, the posturing something that strikes a chord of understanding in the woman. Easier now is her stance on the sands as she watches all, but focuses on that one lovely lady the most for the moment.

Llilian bites her lip, at the sight of injury and impression both, unconsciously taking a step further away from the front lines, though her eyes do nothing of the sort.

Ineban turns to Dakar, giving his friend a questioning raised brow. He looks towards that posing green then, though, and chuckles.

J'sen chuckles from his vantage point. "Oh yes," he echos the statement of many on the sands, "I think that one's going to give us plenty of work."

The tower crumbles. The stark disposition of the Fiery Destructive Wrath Egg crumples as so many of its fellows, dissolving into a mass of liquid shards that wrap themselves about the roughly-hewn, newly shimmering form of the brown dragonet left in their wake. Tossing shards aside, he moves from the remnants of his egg with the initial stumble of a first step.

--** Divine Vortex Brown Hatchling **--

Conclusive perfection is depicted in every mottled nuance of this divinely crafted brown dragon, his form a complete depiction of the verdancy of a newly born world. Raw earth drifts in darkened crevices across the landscape of his back, broad and deep with the bluish shadows of networking subterranean caves tinged only faintly with the stubbornly clinging fingers of finely dusted emerald lichen. Curving wingbones arch with finely honed precision to support the chaotic imagery of his nearly translucent wingsails, themselves animated to depict the fiery flow of amber-touched lava across the mahogany of virgin soil, rich tresses of curling bubbles that erupt into splattered droplets of illuminated gold. Trickles of these more livid hues creep along the sinuous line of his belly, slowly hardening into duskier hues of obsidian that flicker with mirror-like polish over the warm cinnamon of his heavily muscled hindquarters, a powerful compliment to the chaotic vortex of creation. Thick fronds of burnt sienna billow along his extremities, swirling as if caught on the first breeze of existence to envelop the elegant spade of his tail, the fierce curve of his talons, and the gentle slope of his muzzle in the warmth of a newborn embrace. The crest of the surf clings to his forelimbs, paling the jungle of silvery cedar where waves might lap against a seaward forest, the soft azure dappled with milky brown shadows of a thick canopy's web of overhanging branches.

Morpheth, ever the doting father, can't help but croon back, you know. But it's an encouraging type of croon, really. He cranes his neck down to peer closer at his little green daughter.

Vesta ohs softly as her attention is shifted behind the green to that fiery has crumbled. She bounces on the balls of her feet, "Oh...he's handsome."

Jalani matter of factly hands a handkerchief to a bawling candidate. "Get those tears out of your eyes, you gotta be watching the sands." She holds the cloth over the girls nose and commands. "Blow!"

Serriena giggles at the antics of the little green. "You are asking for attention aren't you?" she chuckles. The brown that hatches is given her attention as she surveys the form of the newly hatched dragonet.

Kassandra jumps a bit at hearing Morpheth's croon over and amid the noise on the Sands, startled out of her contemplation of the lovely little green. She turns, and sees a brown make his entrance. "Yes, very," she murmurs to Vesta.

Shansi, the not-nervous one, grins right at Goran, gaze flickering from the hatchlings only for a moment. "I always thought Talen would get a good green like that." Then again, don't trust Shansi's words. She laughs, though, when yet another egg cracks open. "Lovely brown, don't you think?" But she wrinkles her nose a moment later. "You think there's a gold out there?'

Shaioni glances towards the brown, eyes widening slightly. " Aye, he is," replies the Igenite. But attention again wanders to the green... called either by her poses, or by a natural inclination to admire that particular color.

A large, dark forest green emits a loud warble as she emerges from Softly Serene Summertime Egg , and shoves past Teline and Hana, towards timid Ilyan. Whatever name the girl remarks is lost in her lifemate's over enthusiastic warble, unknown to all until a nearby weyrlingmaster announces to the world: "Ilyan and Ayrinth."

Thalesin turns, but only very briefly, to peer towards the people watching. It's a gesture that seems rather furtive, and his gaze quickly goes back to the hatchlings, hands fisting until he spots this gesture and pointedly places his hands against his robe. He's calm. He's perfectly calm.

Llilian's lips curl into a smile, at the emergence of the tiny, yet, brown, hands forcefully unclasped from her front and sent to her sides.

Goldean smiles as his eyes watch the new hatchling, hrm, gazes are tried to be split in half to watch both the brown and the green. Still not deciding which to look at more. A more look is sent to green with a bright grin, then a toss of gaze is quickly sent to see the new impressiom.

Jonahmanages a gasp as the brown little dragon emerges into thw world. His eyes can't seem to look away from it, but he finally manages to look away and check the other candidates and the rest of the eggs.

Serriena wipes the sweat coming off her forehead. The heat of the sands comes up through her feet but she doesn't notice. Hearing the dark green's name she comments to Cymber, "Ayrinth. That is a very pretty name."

"Wow," Valin comments, ever eloquent. "That 'un's purty." They all are, Val. They all are. It's not even easily discernible as to which hatchling he refers to.

Ineban's eyes dart quickly away from the green - beauty of a green though she is - as the newest brown hatches. "Shards, looks at /him/.." he murmers quietly.

Goran just shakes his head to Shansi's chatter, only half-heard. "I ain't sure....maybe." is muttered as eyes flick to the newly hatched brown, wonder still giving him a dazed expression "I didn't think it would be like this...." Feet shift on the hot sand, the warmth coming through despite thick soles.

Zarvind turns his deadlocked gaze away from the new brown, yet there's admiration too, in his mutter. "Interesting one, that," but he declines to say which to his erstwhile companion, who's avidly, even speculatively eyeing the green. Pity the performance had to be spoiled, really.

Kaera lets another gasp escape from her lips as she sees yet another one hatch. She glances at Morpheth, then the green, then the brown, but doesn't really say anything. She smiles at the tall girl next to her, then looks over at the rest of the candidates. Kaera shakes slightly, probably a mix of the heat and her nerves. She glances down at the thin sandals, moaning slightly.

Dakar is a stone amongst the other candidates, paying dire attention to the goings-on around him. He says nothing, though he glances to Ineban, and to Cymber presently, before returning his pale blues to watch the miracle before him.

Sensually Verdant Green Hatchling tires of her game rather quickly. After all there really /is/ something much more pressing she must do. She pauses briefly to scan the group of white robed people so tantalizingly nearby then begins her trek. Now /there's/ a nice looking Telgari lad, but no, he's not quite what she's looking for. She makes her way down the line, disregarding all, her warble becoming a bit distressed, but then something catches her attention sharply

Sensually Verdant Green Hatchling pauses in front of Cymber, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

Cymber nods without turning her eyes from the scene that stretches before her. "It's a lovely name, Serri." Soft her voice, gaze consumed by the brown's hatching, though it drifts back to the other. The girl's expression is admiringly curious as she observes the green pondering her choices.

Vesta pulls her hands out of those of her friends and rubs them briskly on her robe before taking slipping them back into those precious, nearly crushed hands. She eyes the brown for a long moment, and then tilts her head back at the green, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Kaera is fascinated by the hatchings and impressions which spring up all around. She smiles now, caught up in the moment, murmuring something to the candidate beside her.

Shansi mutters underbreathe, shooting an icy glare down at her sandles. If only she wore something more insulating! "Too late know, " she resigns with a small sigh. "No gold?" Snort. "What's a clutch without one?" Small talk only to ward off her increasing nervousness. Eyebrow raises, though her eys are rapt on that brown hatchling now, "Didn't think it'd be like what?"

Divine Vortex Brown Hatchling shakes away a stubborn shard, watching the thing go sailing across the Sands to slap an unwitting girl in the face with a streak of egg goop. If hatchlings could grin, this one would do so. Still, there are more important things about which me must think. Certainly, he is not the first to Hatch, but that means nothing as his stride - after that initial faltering step - carries him toward his fate. He or she is out there somewhere. It's just a matter of seeking them out.

Kassandra puts hand to mouth, and narrowly avoids eating it as she inhales abruptly. "Cy...Cymber?" she manages to get out, staring openly.

Shaioni's head jerks back, and she stares at Cymber. " Cymber?" she queries, wondering. Not bad, mind, just... shocked. " Did she-" She trails off, awaiting the ultimate confirmation.

Serriena standing next to Cymber looks at her friend. Then the green. Then her friend. "Cymber?" Her eyes widen in question.

Vesta watches the hatchling consider Cymber, the bouncing on the balls of her feet stopping. She leans foward, looking around Kassandra with a wide eyed expression.

Goldean looks toward Cymber with a beam in his smile, muttering his lightest of grin in his face. Just a watch of his gaze as it transfers toward the brown, "Pretty." He puts on a soft note before looking back to the brown, he may be as silent as Dakar, but does this boy have a tad more energy, his toes dance on the burning sands as he watches the brown.

Valin watches the green's progress, following with his own green eyes. And when that green chooses, he barks out a laugh, setting his hands on his hips and suddenly relaxing in the middle of the chaos. "HA! Why'm I jus' /not/ surprised!"

Ineban watches the progress of the green for a moment before turning back to watching the brown. But then a name is whispered among the candidates, and he jerks his gaze back that way, eyes widening.

Cymber forgets everything else. Even the heat. Down to her knees she flows, oblivious to the Sands, Candidates, or other Impressions. One slim hand reaches out, gesture holding an echo of the perfect green's sensuality, to stroke a delicate eye's ridge. "No. You are the beautiful one, Genevreth. You are." No end to the wonder in her voice as she takes to crying, face alight with joy.

Llilian's lips press into a smile, as she sees this newest pairing, a soft, congratulations offered to Cymber, before she glances back to the eggs still aborning their respective dragons.

Thalesin, perilously, chokes back laughter at the flying eggshard. He manages to segue to a cough, instead, and lifts a hand in a high sign to Cymber, though his faint grin suggests that he doesn't expect her to see it. And then, of course, he goes back to hatchling-watch, lifting first one foot and then the other.

Legends Lost in Mist Egg trembles slightly in the soft, black Sands.
Legends Lost in Mist Egg has arrived.

Dakar's eyes go wide as he realizes that Cymber has just...his eyes widen, and he looks on with awe, altering his stance self-consciously before a small grin finds his lips.

J'sen smirks and holds out a hand to another weyrlingmaster. The man sighs and drops a few marks in the brownrider's palm.

Zarvind is one of the rare ones who look relatively serene even at this moment of reckoning, though the hand that scratches his eyebrow is shakily wandering to claw his nape. One voice, particularly, draws his attention, and he nods the briefest of congratulations towards Cymber and her Genevreth.

The humming that fills the cavern intensifies with each hatchling, and likewise so when Orb Of Many Illusions Egg rolls onto it's side, dissolving into a polished walnut bronze form. Ista's newest hatchling pauses, as if thinking deeply on something, and then steps forward. Jerisan, of Igen, in brash, arrogant tones, remarks, to his new lifemate, "J'ri, you say, Insasenth? I thought J'risan sounded more gentile."

Jalani quietly walks up to Cymber, reaching to tap the girl on the shoulder."Congratulations, Weyrling, Will you come with me? Please lead the little lovely Genevrath with you?"

Vesta oohs softly as Cymber announces her new lifemate's name, "Oh, Cymber..." She breathes.

Jalani heads over to the small niche.

Abalonie keeps her mouth shut, eyes darting from hatching to hatching. "Oh shards!" She finally lets out. That brown just doesn't settle weel with her. Go figure.." Cymber's obvious impression, is not noticed by her however, too nervous she is now.. switching from one foot to the other.

Goran smiles widely as Cymber impresses the green, the first one of those candidates he really knew to do so! "Look at that...." he mutters to Shansi, then seems to realize she did ask a question "Oh..I mean..I didn't think it would be so...busy." He explains. "Maybe I thought it would be peaceful-like, like when we were touchin the eggs."

Belena grins as she watches the eggs hatching, and then the hatchlings Impressing. She shuffles from foot to foot, looking around. She offers a huge grin to each person as they Impress.

Serriena has reconnected.

Legends Lost in Mist Egg wobbles back and forth, shivering compulsively. A moment's pause, and then it is back to business for the misty surfaced egg, its rockings making a jagged, and yet somehow, melodious tattoo of sound through the vicinity. Creaking, as if with age, it rocks back and forth, tempting time to it's ultimate end.

Cymber needs some time to reply to Jalani, though she does eventually rip her eyes from those of her new lifemate. "Yes. Yes. She's hungry." Rising up again, she paces beside Genevrath in the direction Jalani's indicated, her smile.. rapturous.

Cymber heads over to the small niche.

Serriena has partially disconnected.

Kaera smiles slightly and watches Cymber impress, but still can't bring herself to say anything. She watches the brown for a moment before looking down at her sandals, then out ot the rest of the eggs. She smiles at the girl next to her again, wishing she could bring herself to say something.

Jonah smiles as Cymber and her new lifemate make the bond. "Way to go Cymber" he says, not that she heard him or anyone else.

T'rrent lets out a soft little laugh as he watches Cymber's Impression. J'sen is shot a grin, then, as is the Assistant Werylingmaster next to him. The Weyrleader holds up a quarter Mark, and mouths, "I'll pay later.."

Kassandra watches the new-matched pair, one hand still over her mouth, the other squeezing Vesta's fit to break it. "What a beautiful name," she murmurs, following the pair off the Sands with her eyes, momentarily oblivious to the chaos surrounding her.

Shansi does catch Cymber and green Genevreth. A smile touches her lips, but she says nothing. Even if it was called, there would be no way Cymber would really hear her now. Attention, or at least her next comment, goes right back to Goran, giving his hand another tight squeeze. "Oh yeah.. these things are real busy. Don't see what all the fuss is about, though."

Genevrath heads over to the small niche.

Divine Vortex Brown Hatchling is but momentarily distracted as he halfway stumbles, righting himself soon after, sniffing at the Sand that tripped him up like that. Seeing his siblings find their mates seems to fuel his own necessity: They're doing what he isn't and that just can't proceed! With decision born anew, he looks over these white-robed creatures and then decides. This one. This one is his for the taking.

Serriena can't stop beaming for her friend. It wasn't even her but Cymber's been like a sister to her and she is so happy for her friend.

Goldean's eyes dance toward Cymber with a smile of course, but then he eyes the brown, not much saying anything. A look around to see if he missed anyone and then he looks back. Silently he rocks on his toes, letting all the skin on his feet burn.

Ranwen seems pleased as someone she knows fairly well--Cymber--Impresses. A green. Go figure. Her grin speaks to that fact, though she says nothing.

Vesta manages to make her voice carry to Goran, "You call egg touching peaceful? With Trinyth hovering over us?" She grins slyly and then blinks, jerking her head back up to see if the Queen heard and took offense. She tries to hide herself behind Kassandra just a bit, trying to look innocent.

Divine Vortex Brown Hatchling pauses in front of Zarvind, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

The physical embodiment of the heat that surrounds you rescinds for a moment, wavering so that it is not only tolerable but easily ignored. It is not now your feet that burn but your heart, your soul, your very existence. << Z'vind? >> comes the molten fire of a subtle but enveloping voice. And then there is jubilance! << Z'vind! I knew I should find you here! >> And you - how could there ever have been a doubt that Kealath would be here for you? Kealath, the fiery wonder of the world, the greatest and craftiest brown on Pern has found and adores you! << I am SO hungry, Z'vind. >>

Valin shakes his head, amused, as Cymber wanders off. He'd muse over that Impression, save that there are a /lot/ of things to give his attention to. Rocking eggs, lurching hatchlings, fussing Candidates. Wistfully, the simple Val looks toward the nearest exit. The stampede was less hectic. Valin never was much one for crowd scenes. Ah well. He must do his duty to Pern. So he squares his shoulders and... well... Stands.

Legends Lost in Mist Egg emits a quiet *crack* as the first of tiny little hairline breaks within it's shell make their appearance, shivering up and down the perimeter, and filling in the middle. Nonetheless, no sign of hatchling can be seen, so it can't be quite time yet. Bulges mark the edge of the shell, stretching this way and that as it's tiny content attempts to be freed.

Goran grins down at Shansi, squeezing her hand back. "Aye....y'say it ain't a big deal, but I think it is..." After all, those people who are impressing look fairly starry eyed after it happens. "Look! Zarvind got that brown!" He's quite happy about that; and then he catches Vesta's comment, grinning "The egg touchin was a sight more peaceful than this!" is called back, before he is distracted again...

Zarvind's friend finally releases that grip he never wanted to take in the first place, for he is looking at that brown, the same one they were eyeing a moment ago, even as his facade crumbles before it. "Kealath!" the lad calls triumphantly, victorious, but wobbly at the knees as he sinks to the brown. "I'll feed you, I will."

Llilian tilts her head, at what appears to be a new pairing, curious, as she doesn't know him very well, but then a smile, if a nervous one, as is his due.

Dakar licks at lips gone dry from the heat and his nervousness combined. He looks over to see Zarvind's impression, and smiles good-naturedly, though that expressionj is but fleeting as he returns his pale eyes to the sands.

Shaioni blinks. " And Zarvind." This one Shai barely knows, but never the less, he gets smiled at. " All those Impressions..." Hand squeezes Vesta's. " I wonder what's going to happen next."

Kaera grins and looks over at the brown's impression to Zarvind and nods, mumbling to the girl on the other side of her. "Good name, huh." She smiles slightly as she gets a nod, then looks over at her favorite egg, wondering when it will hatch. She shrugs and closes her eyes for a moment before continuing to watch the chaos unfold around her.

Silver slivers break from the Legends Lost in Mist Egg, spilling away abruptly as the egg bulges with the force of internal strife. Cracks widen, gaping as they spread webbed fingers down the side until - after a breathless moment - they surrender to the silver-streaked form of a young blue dragonet.

--** Mystically Appointed Blue Hatchling **--

Wizened streaks of wispy periwinkle threaded with aged silver trespass with gnarled abandon along the rich cobalt of this nobly hued blue, the brightly dancing shades of sterling trailing merrily from a well-honed chin in soft curls along the breadth of his chest to tickle the curve of his belly. Blankets of wingsails billow as a loose robe might flow sweepingly from his majestically crafted form, the shades and shapes understated but harmonious as the Master's finest harp - plucked with such certainty that the musical grace is evident in every nuance of his demeanor. Crisply cut edges of richest sapphire delineate wingbones and set the daring curve of his talons into a glittering array of ethereal blue fire, nothing of warmth to be betrayed in those mystic shades as they flicker with the barest caress of illumination. Proudly defiant cobalt stands sentry against an onslaught of darker midnight that begins its trespassings at the spade of his tail, bespeckled with a smattering of coldly silver stars that glare menacingly against the otherwise sonorous mingling of genteel blues - the threat of a long, perilous winter intimated in the brisk chill of discordant luminescence. Resonant cerulean will not be so easily overthrown, however, as it blankets sturdy haunches against the wintry siege, a gently covetous embrace that both defies and envelops the lesser hues with its velveteen warmth.

"Shardin' things," Shansi murmurs to herself, at the sight of brown when he almost stumbles, though whatever else she was about to say is hushed, eyes trying to catch who he's in front of now. Unfortunately, all she can see is an ocean of robes. Sighing in slight frustration, she quirks another grin as her hatching companion clues her in. "Zarvind? Never would have figured that one!" To Goran, she laughs, "LIke I said.. nothing at all! You don't have to believe me, you know."

Vecica comes out from a half-obscured tunnel under the galleries.

Goldean looks toward Zarvind with a cheerful smile toward the person. And then around he wraps as he looks back, no he's not sad, that grin on his face is proof of that. Though his face doesn't look toward the two he manages to mumble "Kealath." under his breath. But of course his eyes travel back to the Blue, "Ooh a blue!" He notes before rocking on his feet, trying to keep from dancing, cause that would be trouble.

Kassandra turns just in time to catch the little brown Impressing to Zarvind...and a blue hatching before her. She hasn't relinquished Vesta's hand, though, even though the girl has moved to stand behind her. "Oooooh..." is all she can get out.

Ineban's grin is wry as he turns away from watching the newest pair leave, only to spot an even newer pair.. well.. pair up. His grin widens, forgetting a moment that he's supposed to be shifting from foot to foot. It's not long before he remembers, though, and with a flinch, he lifts first one foot, then the other, gaze still wandering about the cavern.. and locking on that blue. "Gorgeous."

Vesta sighs softly when nothing untoward happens to her for that comment and she stands up straighter, and moves back into place, eyes taking in the Impressions and eggs. She gives Goran a wry smile and her eyes are then drawn towards the newest blue to grace the sands, looking wonderful against the black of the sands, "Ohh...he's a beaut."

Serriena moves closer to Dakar now that Cymber has gone, "Look Zarvind just impressed," she points as if everyone didn't already know. "And look at that blue!! He's magnificent!"

Thalesin rakes a hand through his hair once more, now setting the hair to a disturbing angle, until the young woman next to him whispers something to him and, looking abashed, he tries to smooth his hair--without, it may be noted, marked success. At the blue's hatching, he grins briefly, with a murmur to quiet to be heard.

Shaioni oohs softly at the newly hatched blue, hand clutching Vesta's to the point of near painfulness. " Look at him... he's /stunning/!" Faint grin flickers across her lips as she tracks the blue across the sands. " Simply lovely..."

Abalonie is very stuck in her place, not moving one fingertip as she all but gawks. "Uhh.. yeah.. Congrats!" She randomly calls out. To someone, anyway. Who, exactly, she doesn't know.

Jonah smiiles at Zarvind and the new brown, then looks as the new blue breaks free. "Simply Beautiful" he manages to mutter.

Dragon> Kealath is miraculously humored by this, the smirk that will touch his persona all but visible as he watches with a waning patience. << I knew you would, Z'vind. That is part of the reason I selected you, you know. We shall do great things, my boy, great fun things. >> The warmth of his mentality pales even the heat of the Sands - for all his trickery, for all his arrogance, he loves you so.

Blue and green together emerge from Callous Ritual Egg and Glacial Isolation Egg, their splindly limbs catching as they tumble down at once. Once free of their cumbersome limbs, they seperate, the watery green presenting herself to Tila, "Senath, of course I'm here," while the multi-hued blue tumbles towards a young hold-lad, who announces to the world that his lifemate is Kahnaeth.

Mystically Appointed Blue Hatchling pulls himself out of the shattered remains of his hiding place for so long, and steps forward with a stance of utmost surety. There -is- someone here for him, and therefore, he just has to go and find that person. So, on he goes. Certainty colors his movements, shown clearly as he steps towards a group of girls, then walks off without barely a moment's pause, seeking that missing part of himself that is so close at hand. Perfect precision is his, as one he goes.

Goran smiles after Zarvind and his newly impressed Kealath, then turns just in time to see another blue hatch, "Aye....but who knows why a dragon chooses a person?" he comments back to Shansi. "Tis a mystery to me, at that. Another blue just hatched." He informs the girl next to his side..."No gold yet." See? He's keeping track for the poor short thing.

Z'vind neglects to hear the various put-downs around him, for there is Kealath, whom he leads towards the food, one hand resting possession on the too-perfect head. He murmurs reassurance, just this once. They will.

Lord of a Desert Landscape Egg trembles slightly in the soft, black Sands.
Lord of a Desert Landscape Egg has arrived.

J'sen step up behind Z'vind and gently touches the boy's shoulder. "Over his way," he smiles, gesturing towards the sandy niche. "We'll get some food for him right away."

Lord of a Desert Landscape Egg rolls a short distance from the raised mound of sand - just enough to separate itself from the rest. That finished, it comes to a complete stop, as if contemplating its next move. The mottled, flaxen-hued surface of the ovoid seems to strain itself for a moment, but the wobbling movment halts just as quickly as it began. What it needs is a strategy...

Valin sends a glance over to the nearby Dakar, himself, a thought suddenly striking, but once again Val is simply distracted by the rainbow of hatchlings, particularly that blue. "I like that. No dallyin', no teasin', no nothin'..."

Vesta murmurs softly, pointing at the Flaxen egg, "Sandi, look..."

You step away from the Sands to a small, slightly color niche.

Sandy Niche - Ista Weyr

    Separated into a slight inlet in the wall at ground level, this quasi-cavern is slightly - but not significantly - cooler than the Sands at large. There is still the fine dusting of black sand to coat the floor, still warm underfoot but managing to escape the majority of the searing heat for its being a little detached. Here is where the weyrlings converge to await the close of the Hatching with their newly found lifemates, out of the mess of the Hatching and safely tucked away where food for hungry dragonets can be found.

Obvious exits:
Tunnel     Sands

From the Sands, Kealath toddles right along after his lifemate, of course. Clumsy, but in a proud, I-meant-to-do-that manner.

From the Sands, Kaera giggles softly as silvery-blue catches her eye, gazing at him for a moment before looking over at the Zarvind again and nodding. "Congrats." She grins and looks over at one of the girls softly crying, giving her a sympathetic smile before turning back to look at the eggs again. She shifts feet again, but continues to watch the hatchlings.

From the Sands, Kealath heads over to the small niche.
Kealath comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Ineban has partially disconnected.

From the Sands, Dakar notes Valin's glance, and gives the fellow a quick, pale smile, before both are distracted by the whirlwind of activity around them. He takes a deep breath, hands clasped behind his back as his nearly expressionless face resumes the joining of his eyes to watch..

Genevrath really does try and slow down, but she's /so/ starved from all that time in her shell. She takes a moment to croon adoringly and rub her head against Cymber before demanding another piece of meat.

Jalani has a bowl of meat ready to hand Z'vind as she leads him and the handsome brown to a quieter place. "Congratulations to you both, Z'vind and ..., what is the name of this magnificant one?"

From the Sands, Goldean watches the blue with a glint of happiness in his eyes, "Such a pretty blue." Seems that this energy is turning him back to a child with his standing. A look around as he notes the ones standing by him, "Anyone missin'?" He quietly asks toward anyone before his smile scopes back onto the blue

From the Sands, Shansi snorts up at Goran, "I can see just fine, thank you!" She snaps in spite, or despite?, of herself. But her words lack truth, as she tries to stand on her tiptoes, attempting to peer over other people's heads.. and those rocking eggs. Ooh, if only she could touch one. But nah, she stays right where she is, right by Goran.

From the Sands, Kassandra gasps as the egg which she has been watching all these long weeks begins to tremble. Suddenly she does too, trembling where she stands on the Sands, forgetting to pick up her feet despite the heat scorching them. She has eyes only for That Egg.

Kealath spares a glance for Jalani, though his belly seems to be his guide presently. Well, that and Z'vind, whom he follows like the smoke after the fire. The magnificent one flutters fiery wingsails, crooning up at his new boy emphatically. He's starving, here.

Jalani grins. "Small pieces and make him chew please, Z'vind?"

Cymber's bowl's half empty, but she digs down deeper into it, pacing herself to assuage the starving hatchling that bears the half of her soul for eternity. "Congratulations, Zar.. Z'vind," comes from her as she glances up, only for a second, for Genevrath again makes known her hunger. "Yes.. Yes.. You can have as much as you want. Anything you want, love."

From the Sands, Thalesin, brushing a hand along his robe, watches the passage of the various hatchlings. He swallows once, convulsively, then peers towards Kassandra as he catches part of her gasp, a hint of concern in his dark eyes. He doesn't speak, though, and shifts his gaze to try and see what the trouble is.

From the Sands, A series of wobbles indicate Moon Kissed Lupine Egg's readiness to hatch, marked by the forceful entry of a graceful, teakwood brown. For a long moment, he waits, as if watching every movement, and then, he pounces, gnashing Hana's tanned leg up and down, before claiming her as his lifemate. "I'm fine, honestly, love. Don't be sorry, Inkynath!"

From the Sands, Llilian peeks her head forward, between the shoulders of the pair in front of ehr, as the cry rises from the movements of the light-hued egg, and she pushes forward, the better to see the impending event.

From the Sands, Serriena hops from foot to foot as the sand heat penetrates the thick soles of her sandals and starts to affect her. Her eyes are filled with excitement over what's happening. She's still a bit nervous but happiness for those impressing rapidly surpasses all other emotion and is conveyed in her face.

"Kealath," Z'vind replies in rote, blinking his frozen gaze from brown hide to Jalani and her bowl. "Thanks," he even adds, brows lifting in something like surprise, then picks a smaller piece like she said. It's only advisable, yes.

From the Sands, Mystically Appointed Blue Hatchling shuffles his wingsails according to his movement, that is, keeping them high off the black sands beneath him -- it wouldn't do to trip over them, or anything! As he circles the sands once more, faint trickles of frustation can be seen -- where is that lifemate of his? Nonetheless, he barely slows, angling towards another group of people. Exultation becomes clearly obvious, as the blue raises his head, so sure, knowing that there was never any doubt, and stares up into the eyes of his one and only.

From the Sands, Ineban's greeny-brown eyes, roving anxiously from egg to candidate to hatchling and back again, pass over the Lord of a Desert Landscape egg, widening in wonder. "I touched that one..." And then a name penetrates the shrieks and bawlings of the new-hatched: Inkynath, from yet another egg he claimed. "--Inkynath. That's..that's a name."

From the Sands, Vesta keeps her eyes trained on the sandy colored egg, squeezing Kassandra's hand tight in her own. She makes not of a brown Impression to her right and smiles warmly at the new brownrider, a mucking mate.

From the Sands, Mystically Appointed Blue Hatchling pauses in front of Jonah, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

Dragon> Kealath sounds wistful now, though he does seize upon the small piece. << Can we not have larger pieces, Z'vind? I am not so little as all of that. Here. Give me big pieces! I can handle them! >> So certain is he...

Jalani chuckles and thrusts the bowl into Z'vind's hands. "Feed him as he asks, but feed him slow, or else he will have a belly ache." Shaking her head, the greenrider gives Kealath a careful once over. "Oh, he will be a handful."

From the Sands, Shaded like a burnished flame, darkened by night, is the newest bronze that grapples his way out of Enveloped In Watery Time Egg, and onto the hot, black sands. Softly, silently, and with infinate grace, he steps forward once, coming eye to eye with that little red-headed miner from Crom...Nimijat, was it? At any rate, N'at squeaks, struggling to stand a little taller, "Ooh, Llysenth. I'll feed you."

Wide are Cymber's eyes, emotion bringing another glimmer of tears as she pauses in her feeding to lose herself in Genevrath's gaze. "Forever. How did I live without you?" The question's only breathed as she offers a chunk of meat with one hand and strokes the sensual elegance of her lifemate's neck with wondering fingertips.

From the Sands, Goran doesn't know the candidate who impresses the blue, but he smiles all the same, then looks down at Shans; he's relaxed somewhat, and can actually tease. "Aye, y'can? Then who just impressed that blue I was tellin y'about?" he demands softly. Take a guess, at least?

From the Sands, J'nah falls to his knees and embraces the beautiful blue. He looks happily into the whirrling eyes then stands. "Of course I can feed you. Everyone Meet Myrdith."

From the Sands, Serriena claps her hands together in delight as the blue stops in front of Jonah. "He deserves it," she says to Dakar. "He and I cleaned the living caverns one evening and he was so nice." A grin splits her face.

From the Sands, Vesta looks back over at Shaioni suddenly, and grins, "This is so exciting..." Back to the egg, her eyes go. Until Jonah...J'nah announces his lifemates name, "Congratulations, bluerider!" She sighs softly and again goe back to watching the egg.

From the Sands, Vecica, beaming fit to split her face in two, heads over to the newly Impressed pair, reaching out to wave J'nah towards the alcove. "C'mon . . . Let's get . . . Myrdith fed, eh?"

From the Sands, --** The name of the hatchling. **--

The soft, warm tone of first dawn tinged with pale rose covers this delicately ethereal queen - wraithlike and inconstant as a half-forgotten dream of regal constitution. Head knobs encircled by all the delicate shades of daybreak from deepest carnation to palest violet cling to fiery hints of burnt orange, beset with the pale jewels of an understated crown. Swirling down the long, sinuous line of neck and torso, the tone deepens to a light but pure gold, as if bathed in an unfathomably pure morning sunshine. Feather like wisps craft perfectly honed wings of truest gold - sunlight reflected flaxen that traipses unchecked across the aureate perfection of this lithely crafted queen. All the world of beauty is to be found reflected on the canvas of her wingsails, themselves alight with a prism of refracted golds to trail countless hues of saffron and amber, ochroid and wheat. The relentless pummel of radiant summer sunshine pours liquid tendrils of illuminated marigold, highlighting the finely honed purchase of her wingbones, blindly glittering as a desert mirage might shimmer into existence and then waiver out of sight - nothing more than the broad expanse of heated yellow sand that kisses the velvet softness of her slowly curving underbelly. Antique, patina gold writhes its way around the length of her long, curving, spaded tail with a gossamer embrace, no more substantial than waning evening sunlight just as it slips beyond the crest of the horizon, casting long shadows of twilit flaxen across the wind-rippled muscles of her hindquarters.

From the Sands, Dakar glances over to J'nah and his lifemate, offering a nod, and a smile, to both. He says nothing, however. Has barely said a word since coming to the sands. And Serr's words elicit an 'Aye', soft and baritone.

From the Sands, J'nah smiles at Vecica and then looks at his new lifepartner again. "Yes, lets."

From the Sands, J'nah heads over to the small niche.
J'nah comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Vecica heads over to the small niche.
Vecica comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Goldean is quietly rocking in the sands from his balls of his feet to his heel and back. No the energy and excitement hasn't gotten to him, not at all. No those dancing eyes and his sharp movements of his arms into a fold. Eyes dance to see the golden thing come out. Well, he'll watch.

From the Sands, Shaioni ohs softly. " Gold..." Eyes widen as she takes in the newest hatchling. " Look, Vesta, Gold." Head shakes, eyes stare as the hunter-candie takes in the newest hatchling.

From the Sands, Myrdith heads over to the small niche.
Myrdith comes over from the heat of the Sands.

Jalani carefully guides J'nah and his lifemate over to waiting bowl of freshly cut, newly hatched dragon sized meat chunks. "Well done, J'nah and a wonderful lifemate you have there, don't overfeed him now, and make him chew."

From the Sands, Vesta gasps and her knees nearly buckle under her. The thought of touching the sand with her knees She locks her knees and breathes, "Baby queen."

From the Sands, Kassandra gasps, tugging on Vesta's hand, and pointing with the free one. "It's a gold! A gold!" She falls silent then, staring at the hatchling left in the wake of that beautiful egg she was watching earlier.

Genevrath pauses in her meal, at least a bit satiated, to croon luxuriously. Stroking fingers melt this newly hatched beauty as her lids flutter in ectasy.

Vecica nods after J'nah, grinning, before returning to the Sands. More kiddies to ferry. . .

Vecica heads back over to the Sands at large.
From the Sands, Vecica comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.

From the Sands, Ineban misses the Impression of the blue, but word of mouth eventually brings him names: "Jonah and Myrdith. Oh! A bronze!" Whoo. With hatchlings all around, he can't help but be left a little dizzied. Disappointment shadows his face as the bronze goes to another, but he quickly recovers as a queen makes her way into the world. How, even through the chaos, could the lad miss that? A wide-eyed glance goes to the girls.

From the Sands, Valin blinks as that blue stops awfully close by, and J'nah is shortly removing himself. So Val sidles over, cocking his head slightly, and shrugging to Dakar. And then there's all this talk of a gold, and even someone who /cannot/ Impress a gold is intrigued, so the stablehand-Candidate quickly turns his attention to the Sands. "Hey, a gold," he murmurs. Thanks for pointing that out, Val.

From the Sands, Kaera sighs and glances down at the sands before hearing about yet another impression and looking up, smiling over at Jonah. She bites down on her lip and tugs at her robe, very uncomftorable. She shifts feet and glances up at the newest hatchling, a slow gasp escaping her lips. "Oh, a gold!" She looks over at the other candidates that seem to have that same reaction before taking her eyes back towards the rocking eggs.

From the Sands, Dakar is quite quickly, and obviously, amazed as a queen makes its way into the world. Eyes widen, and his jaw drops. He latches eyes onto the thing, for a special occasion. Times ten.

From the Sands, Serriena could almost pull Dakar's arm off she grabs it so hard. "A queen!" she says almost completely speechless by such a beautiful hatchling.

From the Sands, Llilian nearly stumbles, as theis next, this gold emerges from her egg, falling back, only to be righted by the kind hands of a Candidate behind her, "Didn't expect that, so sudden."

From the Sands, Teasing Shansi is not a good thing right now. Eyes snap up as a tense frown tugs at her lips. "You want to get yourself knocked out or something?" Hopefully that will provide enough of a distraction to stop her from guessing. And then the newest hatchling catches her attention. See? She can see a bit! "A gold! Well! /Now/ this clutch is finally worth it!" Snide? Her? Nah!

From the Sands, Goran tugs at Shansi's hand; in case she can't see, he's going to announce it. "A gold! There's a gold!" is hissed towards her, and then he watches the dainty thing, his eyes flickering to Trynith..."Hard t'imagine that tiny thing will become that big someday" is said with awe, as the comparison truly hits home.

J'nah goes over to the bowl of food and kneals down by it. He waits as the blue follows over. He picks up a good hunk of meat and gives it to the young one. "Be sure and chew Myrdith"

From the Sands, J'sen continues to keep an eye on the sands as he directs the rest of the weyrlingmaster staff in helping newly impressed pairs off the heated floor of the cavern. He does pause and take a moment to admire the little queen.

Z'vind snorts, at the humanfolk, but mostly at the brown. "You must eat slowly, Kea," and the dragon has gained a nickname already. New firmness in his tones, he plonks a slightly larger piece in the waiting maw, repeating some echoed phrase. "A handful, but -- I can handle him. You can't yet, little fellow." He's larger than him.

Myrdith steps in after J'nah, body held up firmly straight as he follows his perfect person. He settles himself down, still perfect, and opens his maw wide. Chew, swallow, mmmm. No rushing: he knows what he's doing.

From the Sands, Alyssa pulls herself slightly more upright even as Trinyth does the same, the queen looking terribly smug about the whole ordeal. "I know, I know. Never again will I doubt your greatness. I'm so sorry. You're wonderful and I'm dreadful," says the Weyrwoman, all but rolling her eyes.

From the Sands, Within moments of beginning to rock, both Summertime Monolith Egg and Arcanely Faded Textures Egg split into piles of debris, presenting two browns to peruse the sands. The earthy-rich brown scampers like some overgrown puppy towards Alrien of Fort HOld, young A'rien calling out, "Food first, Fishorth, and then play." Fishorth's brown brother -- mahogany in shade -- takes only slightly longer, leaving the cavern with young Sh'liy.

From the Sands, Archaic Construct Egg trembles slightly in the soft, black Sands.
From the Sands, Archaic Construct Egg has arrived.

From the Sands, Vesta sighs softly, again shooting a response to one of Goran's comments, "The best things come in small, beautiful packages." She rocks back and forth, leaning into Kassandra, then into Shaioni, and back again.

From the Sands, Ineban turns a perfectly disgusted stare on Shansi. "It always was, Shawwwn-si," he drawls sardonically, just to make her mad. "Gold or not." But then he waves a dismissive hand and turns away from her, eyes darting about. Hm. That gold *is* a rather fascinating development.

From the Sands, Kaera lets that slow smile creep across her lips again as she admires the little queen, taking her eyes from the sands just long enough to glance up at the crowd watching the impressions. She nods to the two candidates that impressed the browns, sighing for a moment, as it seems to all hapen so fast.

From the Sands, Thalesin, having been watching another hatchling, makes a noise of vague confusion at the hubbub. "Wha? Is there a gold? Oh!" And, yes, he spots it, then, edging to one side so he can get a better look past a taller Candidate. "Pretty," he murmurs, then, gaze flickering towards the female Candidates.

Jalani shakes her head as a weyrling tries to stuff a large piece in his lifemate's maw. "No, small pieces. Trust me, you don't to hear a hatchlings creening from a belly ache."

From the Sands, Archaic Construct Egg shudders, no, darn near appears to lose it. What starts as a vibration quickly escalates to an action that dislodges bits of sand not only around the Ovid, but also anywhere in the near vicinity, sending tiny sprays of the granules out in descending cascades about it. As quickly as it began, it ends, anticlimactic compared to the display that occurred a few moments ago. Residuals? Oh, yes. Deep cracks spread out in all directions along the smooth surface, similar to the effect of the black, spraying Istan sand.

Cymber just keeps to her nook, happily engrossed with the delicate little beast that filled every last void in her person. The bowl's not quite empty, and though Gen's slowing, she still offers, having time now to look back to those who've arrived with a smile and word of congratulations.

J'nah grins "Of course you know, here have another." He picks up some more and feeds it intot he waiting maw. "Thank you so much for choosing me."

Dragon> Kealath blazes a little with the inner tempest. The beginning of the ongoing war to tame the fiery recesses of Kealath. << But, Z'vind, let us be rational about this. I am dreadfully hungry. These bites are terribly small. Tell me it does not make more sense to let me eat larger bites that will fill me quicker? >> Note he does eat the small bites just as greedily as he would the big ones.

From the Sands, Almost unnoticed is the newest, sage green on the sands, her entrance from History's Myriad Egg nothing eye-catching to say the least. Nor is her Impression to M'ayne any more noticable, the green pair spending a silent, special moment, before notifying the nearest weyrlingmaster of Raeliseth's incredible hunger.

From the Sands, Shaioni presses her shoulder into Vesta's, seeking the comfort of a true friend. Eyes, however, are locked upon glittering form, her expression slightly... wistful?... as she watches the queen, waiting to see where she goes.

From the Sands, Goldean watches around as he looks toward Ineban and back, his eyes watch the gold with a light chuckle and his little gaze brightening, though he watches the queen, he seems just to watch for entertainment and not much. A quick look toward the moving egg as the Kitchen-Candidate watches so happily.

From the Sands, Goran just shakes his head at Shansi, nodding his appreciation of the two browns. "Aye....any dragon hatching seems to make the thing an event" is commented; he leaves off teasing, though, as he doesn't really want to be knocked down, even by little thing like the girl holding his hand.

From the Sands, Ethereal Sunshine Gold Hatchling stands still for a moment, a slow murmur ariseing and growing in pitch and volume as the definition of her glittering, golden hide becomes apparent - shaking damp wings free of stubborn shards that cling to her newly Hatched form. There. Bits of shell and goo are carefully shaken off, and she is completely free, at last. She tilts her golden head up to regard the semicircle of Candidates with the regal air one would expect from her. Oh, where to go?

From the Sands, Ineban definitely doesn't notice M'ayne's Impression; sorry, lad. Just too much going on. (He'll understand.) "Ah, there she goes," he murmurs, unclasping the hand of the fellow next to him to wipe the sweat-lined thing on his robe. How dignified. "Wonder who she'll pick."

From the Sands, Kassandra has forgotten to breathe. She has also forgotten to move. It's a very good thing that her heart is not under her conscious control, or else she might forget to beat it right now. After a moment, she remembers that air is necessary, and takes a deep, slightly shuddering breath, gripping Vesta's hand tightly as she watches, eyes glued to the beautiful gold hatchling.

From the Sands, Shansi's hand is thoroughly tugged on this point. "Don't even provoke me, Goran!" She snaps. No way is she going to get knocked down by anything. Though, if she isn't carefully, the way her attention is one that ethereal gold, she might.. if only under her knees giving way from the sight. Luckily, she doesn't. "Wonderful browns, too." She murmurs in her slight trance.

From the Sands, Llilian frowns, concern evident as she watches the latest of these hatchlings, concern evident on her face, coupled with a smile a moment later, now, finally, reaching for a hand, and any hand will do.

From the Sands, Vesta continues to rock back and forth just a bit, whether to ease her baking feet or to relieve nerves, is unsure, but her dark blue eyes are riveted on the gold hatchling, Kassandra's hand and hers clasped together in a mushed, white knuckled double fist. Shaioni's hand gets the same treatment.

J'nah grins again. <Yes, this is meat. Its good huh?> J'nah chuckles and piks up another piece and feeds it to the waiting dragonet.

From the Sands, Goran let's Shansi be, just watching the gold, although he does not to Ineban "Aye...she looks to be ready to make a choice, or at least look the group over." And he gives a silent sigh of relief that he isn't female at this very moment.

Z'vind surreptitiously bends to scoop up a tiny piece, since large ones involve pain. He carefully frowns, not effortlessly, at Kealath. "But I'm being perfectly reasonable, Kea. You wouldn't want me to get stuck cleaning up, do you?" A near retort, but uttered in the same wondrous tones of the newly Impressed. He pries the bowl an inch or two away from the wanting mouth.

Myrdith pulls his tail out of the way, maw opening widely once more.

From the Sands, Archaic Construct Egg appears to shift internally, and, from the downward angle of the Ovid's tip, seems to have decided that Topsy-Turvy World would be 'much' more fun than 'Right Side Up'. Again, sand sprays, 'soaking' anything and anyone who happens to be in the general area. From what can be seen visually, it appears that a 'huge' gaping crack has opened along the underside of this once sleek egg.

From the Sands, Valin says, helpfully, "She'll pick a girl." Leave it Valin, ladies and gentlemen. Busy watching the gold, curious, he subconsciously tunes out the other hatchlings in the interest of seeing who's going to be a future weyrwoman.

Genevrath is definitely tiring. She finally refuses an offering by turning her delicate head into Cymber's side. Warbling softly, she furls her wings and cuddles closer, leaning all her weight on her lifemate.

From the Sands, Dakar watches the goings-on, more the queen than any other, as he stands there near his friends...fellow candidates. The cracking of another egg catches his attention, and he turns to watch the Archaic Construct egg as it cracks.

From the Sands, Goldean's own hands are clasp tightly together in front of him, squeezes release in his own hand keeping himself from chuckling of any sort. His eyes travel again to see the gold and watches it silently, though aa partial gaze travels to the cracking egg carefully.

Dragon> Kealath contemplates, and it shows in the way his glittering wedge tilts upward in its regard of you. << Here. If you give me the bowl, then you cannot possibly be at fault if I over eat. Which I would not do since I do not wish to have a tummy ache. Surely this is a perfect plan! >>

From the Sands, Kaera releases the hand of the girl next to her, wiping her sweaty palm off on her robe before closing her hands into tight fists, biting down on her lip. She tries not to look nervous, but can't help it, starting to shift from foot to foot again while peering over at all her other fellow candidates.

Jalani quickly approaches Cymber. "You can rest with your lifemate over there." She points to a quiet corner where a few newly bonded pairs are already cuddling together.

From the Sands, Abalonie is alive in her somewhere! Honest, she really is. But quiet as is, and nearly all alone now that a few of her companions impressed, and she seem starkly out of place. "Oh please.. would this just end soon?" She asks of no one, voice quavering more than ever.

From the Sands, Ineban squints one eye at Valin, mouth cracked to make some clever retort, but one sideways glance to the dam and sire make him think the better of it. He'd rather not be squished. So he simply sighs as though much aggrieved -- he's dramatizing, of course -- and continues to watch the little gold. Just 'cause.

From the Sands, Serriena wipes her palms on her candidate robes. It is very hot on these sands. She clenches her teeth in anticipation watching the little gold intently.

From the Sands, Ranwen is nervous now. Awed at the prospect of a gold upon the sands. Everything else has escaped her attention for the moment as she openly gawks.

Cymber will -never- turn away Gen's attentions. Ever. The bowl's set down to one side and she crouches, gently enwrapping her arms about her breathtakingly wonderful lifemate to lean and tell her in so many words just how incredibly perfect, beautiful, grandiose and lovely she is. Her gaze lifts to Jalani, and she's still smiling fit to break her face. "Yes. Thank you. Thank you so much." As if this all is the Rider's doing. Rising, she guides her forever companion to that nook and resumes her stroking, compliments and utterances of love.

J'nah smiles at his new, best friend friend << You have to be sure not to eat too much litte one." He reaches up and scratches the blues head. << Before you, I was alone. I know I shall be that way no more. Thank you so very much! Do you want a little more?>>

From the Sands, Shaioni sways back and forth, rhythmatically, her hand squeezing tight to Vesta's. Violet eyes remain fixed 'pon golden form as she remains silent, awed.

From the Sands, Thalesin is starting to look, in a word, soggy. His hair curls damply at the back of his neck, and moisture beads along his face. He rubs at his forehead with the back of his hand--a futile gesture. His nose wrinkles briefly, and he goes back to waiting and watching, silent, but still quite attentive.

From the Sands, Ethereal Sunshine Gold Hatchling takes her first steps, then - and dignified and perfect, they are. It would hardly be acceptable for her to stumble, after all, would it? She turns to glance up at her Dam, and then to her Sire. Both are accorded this brief moment of attention, before she resumes her steady perambulation toward the Candidates. But there are so many to choose from! Ah well. She takes another patient moment or two to survey her choices, whirling eyes finally locking on a single persona. She does not run, oh no - that would be undignified. She simply approaches the girl in a calm, businesslike manner...

From the Sands, Ethereal Sunshine Gold Hatchling pauses in front of Llilian, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

Kealath is all manner of attentiveness to his Z'vind, looking quite pleased with the meat though it's apparent that there is something going on between the two which will not be slowing any time soon. Here's a dynamic - all the love in the world shows in Kealath's visage, but still he seems a bit indignant by his posture.

From the Sands, Belena stares at the gold hatchling for a moment, a smile slowly coming back to her face before she glances around at the other Candidates standing beside her. "Beautiful, isn't she?" she says, before returning her gaze to the hatchlings.

From the Sands, Kassandra comes very close to collapsing then and there as the gold selects Llilian. Vesta's hand holds her up, thank heavens. She watches the Impression take place breathlessly.

From the Sands, Valin gestures toward Llilian. "See?" He was right! Heh. He gives a few soft claps that are totally lost in the chaotic din of dragons, Candidates, audience, et cetera.

Jalani smiles softly, is that a mist forming over the greenrider's eyes? No, must be the heat. She coughs and winks at the newest candidate, a young boy from Far Cry. "Just don't be doing any of your pranks now, you hear?" When the gold impresses, she lets out a involuntary sigh of pleasure.

From the Sands, Abalonie is given an odd look from Shansi, murmuring gruffly to herself, and maybe Goran, "That girl has lost all senses for sure.." Heh. No.. That wasn't snide. Really.. Uh, time to watch the gold, no? "Llilian? What that Llilian?" She watches for a moment, but can't see the girl. Goran? Help?

From the Sands, Ineban snaps his fingers as best he can, considering the sweat gathered on their tips. "And that is that. Llilian. Couldn't miss it." Now, how's about a name? While he waits for *that*, he flips himself up onto tip-toe to better see over the heads of the amassed.

From the Sands, Dakar watches the progress of the gold with obvious interest, one brow arching ever so slightly as Llilian is impressed. He nods, a small smile washing across his lips, before he looks to the remaining eggs. Hoping in spite of himself.

From the Sands, Llilian falls to her knees, burning sands, broken shells, utter chaos or no, time, space, and the world at large brought, for just a moment, to a standstill, her existence, in this instant, reduced to the creature to whom she offers trembling hands, and the most delicate of caresses. The wetness of hide, newly shelled, and glistening in tones of <colour> is mirrored by sparkling rivulets of tears, momentarily caught on the edge of lashes, only to slide down along her cheeks in the next breath, Rukbat's radiance reflected on a face turned suddenly luminous, words, as much from the heart as from the lips, flowing, if haltingly, from an emotion-choked throat, Isyrath and you, Llilian, are mine and you are perfect. I love you, you know, and we will never again be apart. >> Another wave of undeniable well-being, my love. And yes, of course we'll feed you, you just can't become all hied and bones, now."

From the Sands, Goran smiles as the gold impression takes place; even an ignorant person such as he realizes it is an 'important' thing..."Look at that..." He murmurs, then nods to Shansi "Aye, it was Llilian" is answered to the question. "Isyrath....tis a pretty name."

From the Sands, Vesta seems to relax somewhat as the gold chooses. She wraps on arm about Sandi and sighs softly. She shouts a more than likely unheard congratulations in Llilian's direction.

From the Sands, J'sen just gapes at the gold and her obvious choice. "Oh my..." he simply states, letting the thought trail off into nothingness. After a moment, he shakes himself and heads over to the pair. "Why don't we get you two off the sands and to some food, hmm? This way."

From the Sands, Goldean's gaze travels back to the gold before his eyes light up even brighter, "Llilian!" He cheers his little squeaky voice toward the girl so smiley and and grinlike, well there goes the one more good rider

From the Sands, Kaera watches Llilian impress and grins, smiling over at her. "Oh, Congrats Llilian!" Barely whispered, but there. She grins for a moment before turning back to the rocking eggs, wondering what comes next. She hears the name and grins, thinking for a moment. "Thats really pretty...Isyrath." She giggles and looks at all the others, who will leave next?

From the Sands, Llilian falls to her knees, burning sands, broken shells, utter chaos or no, time, space, and the world at large brought, for just a moment, to a standstill, her existence, in this instant, reduced to the creature to whom she offers trembling hands, and the most delicate of caresses. The wetness of hide, newly shelled, and glistening in tones of gold is mirrored by sparkling rivulets of tears, momentarily caught on the edge of lashes, only to slide down along her cheeks in the next breath, Rukbat's radiance reflected on a face turned suddenly luminous, words, as much from the heart as from the lips, flowing, if haltingly, from an emotion-choked throat, Isyrath and you, Llilian, are mine and you are perfect. I love you, you know, and we will never again be apart. Isyrath my love. And yes, of course we'll feed you, you just can't become all hied and bones, now."(repose. SO sorry.)

From the Sands, Serriena grins at the impressing of the gold to Llilian.

Z'vind appears to be carrying on with some argument in his own little niche within the niche. Out of the blue, he chuckles, directing a glare Kealath-wards; plus a small piece of meat. "Its never my fault, Kea," and he fondly shifts to scritch an eyeridge. Distraction, hopefully. "Let's delay this for a sevenday, say, then discuss it again. Unless you aren't hungry." Poor bystanders, who have to listen to the horrors of Zar's inner world as he detracts from /his/ inward voice.

Myrdith head pretty much nods -- that's an affirmative, J'nah! His tail swishes, as he stares up with total love at this wonderful person in front of him.

From the Sands, Ranwen oohs softly as the gold chooses her lifemate, and a smile spreads across her features, before she offers her own congratulations. "Congratulations, Llilian!" It is enthusiastic, but little more than a whisper.

From the Sands, Shattering the precision of imagery that rings its wide circumference, the Archaic Construct Egg surrenders to the timeless struggle of Hatching - shell giving way to the inner persistence of the life contained within. A light flurry of greenish shards is left clinging to the dampened hide of a somberly appointed, richly hued brown dragonet.

From the Sands, --** Symmetrical Mahogony Brown Hatchling **--

Shadows dance quietly across somber eyeridges in deep umber, glancing down the proud neck of this earthen-hued brown - tipping across the ridges of his spine as they smooth the softness of his hide into a deeply lustrous, highly polished mahogony. Hardwood tempered by the knowing hand of a careful master, the curves of this sturdy brown are almost ornate as they drift one into the other - carved into the softened texture of a velveteen coat in all the richest hues of klah and cinnamon. Illusions run rampant over the myriad canvas of his carefully carved figure: Moss-hued lichen clinging gently to the dark mists that trespass the serenity of his slowly sloping muzzle, heightened to crisply pre-dawn silver as they trickle along the hinge of his jaw and around the coronet of his headknobs. Soft shadows reminiscent of dancing rings trespass the broad expanse of his wingsails, flickering into and out of existence as they surrender themselves to the gaiety of milky glitter that cascades down from the moonlit hues of his finely honed winbones, themselves in genteel concord with the spill of a warm spring morning depicted in sonorous dustings of powderlike saffron along the extremities of his wings. Glassy green sheen dares to trickle over the tip of his tail and his hindlegs, waxing itself over the muscles with careful precision where the dark brown surrenders to the softer taupe of a finely tanned hide - all the eye-catching glory of a harmonious coexistence.

From the Sands, Isyrath. Satisfied with that name, Ineban gives a little nod and smile, taking time out to wipe his hands once again. Once thick curls of gold are now dark and slick with sweat as the boy -- young man -- beneath them continues to shift from foot to foot. "..ow." Crrack. "--Brown!" Oo, ah.

J'nah chuckles and gives that head another rub, then picks up some more meat and feads Myrdith. "There you go, dear friend. Chew slowly"

Dragon> Kealath gives this due consideration, the flames of his temper somewhat doused as they simmer into thoughtfulness. << Oh! Hungry! Oh, yes! Let's delay this for a sevenday, indeed. Here. You remind me in a sevenday and then I shall bring you around to my way of thinking, yes? >>

From the Sands, Llilian blinks, a frown crossing her lips. Someone's talking to her? This is not as easy as she's been lead to believe. But finally, with a last embrace, she lifts ehr eyes from her lifemate, to the weyrlingstaff, and she departs, still in tears.

Cymber takes the time, after making darn sure that her lifemate knows how much she's adored, to examine each graceful wingsail, to run her hand along the curling length of a blue-kissed and spaded tail. She and Genevrath are quiet now, basking in a high that's not even measurable.

From the Sands, Llilian heads over to the small niche.
Llilian comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, J'sen heads over to the small niche.
J'sen comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Belena has reconnected.

From the Sands, Vesta ahs softly, giving Sandi a look to see if she'll be okay, and whispers, "Look, Sandi...another handsome brown...hmm..." She takes a harder look at the brown, then and her expression melts, "Positively handsome, yes."

From the Sands, Isyrath heads over to the small niche.
Isyrath comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Goldean looks back toward the brown hatchling with a grin a mile wide on his face. Either from the gold impressing or just himself he smiles and then looks towards Ineban with a smirk. Back to rocking on his feet as he nervously moves around his toes dancing by themselves, but still the boy stays still just watching.

From the Sands, Kassandra watches the hatching of the brown out of the cornder of her eye. "Yes, he is," she answers Vesta with only half her attention on the girl's statement.

From the Sands, And what has Alyssa to say about the gold's Impression: "Poor girl." With that, she looks to the newest hatchlings that spill from their confines with the same sort of interest as she's shown all the others.

From the Sands, Battered Mountaintop Egg wobbles, wibbles, and cracks into tiny pieces across the black sand, it's lime green contents promptly attempting to hide behind flurescent wings. Torvayli hazards a step forward -- not very wise -- but comes out the better, her lifemate there at last: "Silly Ekaterith, no need to hide from me."

Genevrath :croons softly, half asleep already. But her stomach is full and she is content in the arms of her lifemate. Life is as it should be.

From the Sands, Symmetrical Mahogony Brown Hatchling peeks out of the underside of that scarred and cracked egg, tiny headknobs appearing first to wiggle slowly in the air. Glistening eyes next, widening at the sight of all those odd looking white things before him. He stands, tottering on shaky legs, a chunk of shell stuck to that deep mahogany hued neck. Who cares about that? There's The One to be found! Wait. There? Or over here?

From the Sands, Kaera's gaze wanders around the hatching grounds for a moment before a spot of brown catches her eye. She gazes at the brown for a moment, pulling at her robe a bit and pushing the braid over her shoulder again. She wipes her sweaty palms off on her robe again, her eyes still focused on the brown.

Jalani's face cracks with joy as she hands Llilian a bowl of meat, cut into perfect size for the young gold. "Congratulations, weyrling and may I say, you have a perfect beauty there!" Sh e nods to J'sen and heads out to help a stumbling candidate.

Jalani heads back over to the Sands at large.
From the Sands, Jalani comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.

From the Sands, "Isn't he cute?" Serriena smiles at the brown with little tendrils of lichen sticking to his nose. She pushes back her bangs on her foreahead and they stick to her hair from dampness.

J'nah frowns, "Is what so terribly bad? Being alone? Since you looked into my mind that first time, I can't even remember what it was like to have an empty mind."

J'sen leands the newly hatched pair of Llilian and Isyrath in from the sands, grinning from ear to ear. "Here, let's get you settled and your little beauty can eat."

From the Sands, Abalonie breaths out softly, "Llilian.. How wonderful.." Again, she goes back to shuffling from foot to foot, trying to keep her attention spread on all of the hatchlings.

From the Sands, Goran chuckles a bit at the antics of the newly hatched brown...he's positively relaxed now, though he continues to shift his feet to keep them from burning, the discomfort now only barely tolerable. A hand reaches up to push that lock of hair off of his forehead, damp with sweat from the heat. "How many more eggs are there?" is asked of Shansi? Can y'see?

From the Sands, Dakar watches the brown come new into the world, his sharp eyes glancing at the other candidates for a moment before he returns it to the hatchling. Palms, sweaty as the shards themselves, are clutched tightly behind his back.

From the Sands, Vesta grins, taking her hands back for herself again to rub them vigorously on her robe. She sighs softly at the brown's tottering and hugs herself. She suddenly remembers her feet, however, with a wince, and hops from foot to foot.

From the Sands, Ineban can't help it: "Oh dear." Sympathetic to the brown's confusion, he slips around to the other side of one candidate -- slowly, so as not to startle the creeling dragonlings -- and leans in to get a better look.

From the Sands, Valin lifts a hand, flicking sweat away from his brow quickly, not wanting to obscure his view of the hatchlings for too long. "Hey, that 'un looks carved, like that 'lizard..." He pauses. What in Faranth's name is he /doing/, comparing that baby dragon to a firelizard? He sends a glance toward the sire and dam of the clutch, grimacing.

J'nah calls Myrdith closer to him.

From the Sands, Goldean smirks toward the brown, he almost chuckles but of course at this moment nothing can come from his mouth. Light blue eyes sparkle with the reflection of the warm black sands in them. His hands are just squeezed together tightly trying to hold himself still, but there is so much to see around the group.

Cymber's now got time to notice her companions. Her eyes widen upon the gold and she beams a smile, "Congratulations, Llilian.", but she's quick to lean over and murmur to the wonderful Genevrath, "Don't you worry. No one will ever compare to you, love. You are the most beautiful." A husky whisper is that, given to the drowing green about which her arm is resting.

Llilian blinks-blinks. Even more out of it then the last time, and that hatching was only the tiniest cousin of this one, but Jalani's bowl settles into numb fingers, as she begins to feed the half of herself that's somehow settled before her.

From the Sands, Forever Feathered Egg trembles slightly in the soft, black Sands.
From the Sands, Forever Feathered Egg has arrived.

From the Sands, Sand flies, it's dark shades making dirty white robes, as Criscrossed Terrain Egg takes it's moment of glory. Two pieces fall off, showing first a slender blue talon, and then, a pale, white-light blue that stands out remarkably from the sands. A sigh of relief goes through the sands as former apprentice harper Abigaila finds herself with blue, rather than green. Her red head lifts; her temper abated, "My friend, Dhosheth."

From the Sands, Thalesin stands on one foot for just a moment--though the other is only a short distance from the ground, so he doesn't look much more awkward than usual. And, yes, he watches. He's good at watching, apparently. A look is cast towards the remaining eggs, and to the remaining Candidates, comparing.

J'sen wanders around to the other pairs in varying states of being fed and dozing off. He can't seem to keep himself from smiling like a madman.

From the Sands, Shaioni watches the impressions with a quietly patient aire. Smiles are given to all Impressees, though it may be slightly sad... after all, what Candidate /doesn't/ want to Impress. Yet, she waits, swaying upon the sands, one hand in Vesta's, the other clenched at her side.

From the Sands, Forever Feathered Egg shivers, as if being tickled profusely by the faintly feather-like markings of it's shell, teetering precariously to one side. No cracks just yet: but the time is close at hand, indeed. Another roll, bobbing up and down like on a gently swaying ocean, and it shivers once more.

From the Sands, Belena grins, shuffling from foot to foot as she watches Candidates Impressing, eggs hatching, and everything else there is to see. She calls out congratulations to each person as she sees them Impress, though no doubt it goes unnoticed.

Isyrath strolls in with perfect dignitarian grace, only a step or two behind her precious Llilian, barely taking the time to glance at the rest of her clutchmates. As her lifemate stops, so does she, waiting with no lack of patience to be fed. And as the food is offered, she affects what might be considered a curtsey, though the effect is probably accidental.

From the Sands, Kassandra watches as the feathered egg begins to crack, squeezing Vesta's hand in her own. "Wonder what'll come out of that one," she murmurs to both of the girls near her.

Z'vind half-smiles, earthbound against brown's dark fieriness. "Of course we shall. I'm glad, I'm glad," says he, stepping around and over the current topic. That's when he pays some attention to his environs, and nods, and calls a "congratulations," to the just-arrived lifemates. Another slice of meat gets picked up and duly offered.

From the Sands, Dakar watches the tremblings of the feathered egg as the hatchling inside struggles to free itself from the hardened confines of the shell. At each impression, he glances over to see if it was anyone he knew well, before he looks again to the eggs upon the sands. Silent. Patient.

From the Sands, Ineban misses Abigaila's Impression in the cacophony, but not the rocking of Forever Feathered. Blinking slowly, and for no apparent reason, he takes a step back and falls still. Not much else to do, after all.

From the Sands, Symmetrical Mahogony Brown Hatchling careens across the sand, talons digging into the sandy soil, then skids to a halt before a platinum colored hair Candidate he /knows/ is His! That shard, the one that has still managed to cling to his neck, topples to the ground harmlessly, directly in front of this female with the midnight blue eyes. Aww. Did he bump her toe? He looks. He gawks. The ocre that runs through his veins pumps with excitement. Oh, yeah. Gotcha!

Dragon> Kealath must be getting drowsy, for the argument wanes in his mind as the slowly banking embers of some warm hearth. << Come, tell me why my brows itch so? And tell me - >> Is he fighting a yawn? << - why I feel so dreadfully tired? >>

From the Sands, Ranwen bounces ever so slightly upon the balls of her feet, not even registering the fact anymore that it is hot. As the brown hatchling comes up to the platinum-haired candidate, she looks on with concern, hoping the girl is not hurt.

From the Sands, Symmetrical Mahogony Brown Hatchling pauses in front of Vesta, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

From the Sands, Kassandra catches her breath as the brown stops near them...and stares up at Vesta adoringly. "Oh, VESTA!" she cries, releasing the newly-Impressed girl's hand to clasp hers together in delight, earlier emotions forgotten in this new joy.

From the Sands, Shansi is utterly stunned into silence. Well, except when Goran finally asks her a question. "Eh? What? How many eggs? Shardit boy! I can't see anything!" Oops. She just gave away her cover. Drats. "Hopefully that brown.. er.. Vesta?" She blinks. Well, that one was odd.

From the Sands, Shaioni falls backwards, yelping as her bottom hits the sands. With a screech of pain, she skyrockets upwards, standing away from the Impressed pair. " V- V- Vesta!" A shout of pure joy echoes from the Candidate's mouth; serenity that would be matched only by her own Impression. " Oh, VESTA!" Stinging rear is ignored for the moment... her friend Impressed!

From the Sands, As the brown finds Vesta, Dakar can not help but smile. A smile which reaches his eyes, no less, which speaks of how pleased he is. "There you go, Vesta," he intones.

Llilian shakes her head, and there's only loving caution in her voice, and an unbelievable tenderness. Well, perhaps not unbelievable, not to those gatehred here, "You are always welcome, love, but slowly now, or you'll have a tummy-ache."

From Kealath's lower neckridges, The Oracle vanishes into the Matrix.

From the Sands, Goran 's smile widens at the next impression "Vesta got the brown!" He tugs on Shansi's hand (and arm) with this announcement. "Would y'look at that!" He laughs down at the girl, shaking his head "If y'moved in front of me, you could probably see better, y'know. I could make room for you."

You call Kealath over to you.

From the Sands, Goldean turns around to see his clam-digging friend, he brightens more and smiles, "Congrats Vesta!" He calls as he listens quietly toward the girl, eyes wandering from the newly impressed girl to the rocking eggs, maybe a bit more worried now.

From the Sands, Kaera sighs and closes her eyes for a moment, hesitantly opening them again and looking at all the chaos around her. She smiles at Abigaila's impression, then the brown's. She sighs again and looks at all the other candidates, then at the cracking feather egg, trying to take everything in at once. She grins at Vesta for a moment, she winces as the girl next to her steps on her foot, pushing the sandal a little further into the sand. "Ouch." She gets an appologetic glance before frowning and turning back towards the eggs.

J'nah dropped Myrdith.

From the Sands, Jalani hurries to Shaioni's side. "Watch your feet, girl, this is no time to be sittin'. There are hatchlings on the ground and they don't look where they step!"

From the Sands, Vesta eyes the newly rocking feathered egg with one eye, and the brown with another, trying to split her attention between the two. Suddenly, the brown topples at her feet. She makes a sharp sound and looks down towards her toe, but her gaze catches the brown's first, "Oh Nimoth! Yes, yes, yes!" She falls to her knees and gently strokes the dearest brown's damp head, hand catching that sticky piece of shell and tossing it harmlessly onto the sands.

From the Sands, Forever Feathered Egg rocks backwards, almost toppling over, but remains intact for a moment or two more. It's coming! And slowly, just gently, feather-like markings heave and push, reaching, tugging, making way for the hatchling inside that is so insistant that it's life must begin now. Begin, now.

From the Sands, Wisps, so small and finger-like that they are almost indistinguishable, begin to spill from the cocoa coating of the Forever Feathered Egg, gradually gaining momentum. By and by, they melt away entirely as a singular split leaves a darkened crevice powdered surface. A breath later, the shell falls away to reveal the decidedly dainty form of a tiny green dragonet.

Cymber calls Genevrath closer to her.

From the Sands, --** Magic of the Evening Green Hatchling **--

The stillness of the night creeps across ancient hills and streams, spreading a softened misty memory of gently fronded, twilight emerald atop a landscape of darkness, made clear in delicate draperies of fog gently caressing the insubstantially bedecked hide of this jade-kissed hatchling. Reminiscent of a wreath of shadowed flowers are the darkened roses and sprinkled violets that ring the crown of her headknobs, trailing uncertain little fingers along the soft curves of her wedge-shaped head to tickle the hinge of her delicately hone jawbone - a tiny garland of growth that trails down her elongated neck with dramatic pause: Shade dappled illumination beset with ethereal splendor. Hazy shades of silvery dusk and faded lichen dapple her flanks, resplendent of feathered ferns and bladed grasses lent the ambiguous lavender undertones of a moonlit evening, darkening to a shroud of vague shadows - as long whispers of breeze-caught vines might trail from overhanging branches - that seep down her limbs, etching their shape from the velvet darkness. The ice blue twinkle of a predawn, springtime constellation outlines pinions of deep greenstone - glassy as the sea in perfect repose -- swirling with faerie silence only to break into emerald and seafoam where hesitant waves crash across the turbulent lagoon of softly translucent wingsails. Rosy whispers of dawn mark their place amid pointed talons, beckoning to the sunrise that peaks through moistly emerald foliage, wet with the soft periwinkle of early morning dewdrops.

J'nah calls Myrdith closer to him.

From the Sands, Kindly don't look closely at Vecica right now. She's all dewy eyed from memories of *her* Impression, but not so much so that she doesn't make a VTOL-line straight for Vesta and her brown Nimoth, smiling warmly and extending a hand to help the girl up. "C'mon, kiddo. Let's get this little fellow fed. Just into that alcove . . . "

From the Sands, Ineban ker*blinks*, I swear. "A girl with a brown.. How rare is *that*?" he cries, not so much disgruntled as he is..well, surprised. Catching his breath in the stifling heat, he says in a much lower voice, "Vesta and Nimoth." And, "--green!"

From the Sands, Kassandra's hands reach out for Shaioni's now that her previous partner in clutching has Impressed. "Ooh, look at the green," she says to the dark-haired girl at her side.

From the Sands, Picturesque Erosions Egg and Wrapped In Serenity Egg, two eggs that have sat side by side the whole hatching, bounce. Once, twice, and then again, and this time, two hatchlings spread their wings, and are tossed onto the sands. One brown: dark, dismal night in shade, who makes H'nnan his own, the other green. "Yes, you are Lyphelth," agrees her lifemate, formerly one of Ismaye's assistants.

From the Sands, As Vesta is impressed, Ranwen nearly squeals with delight, forgetting her own hopefulness for the moment. "Congratulations, Vesta!" she says to her friend, a smile upon her face.

From the Sands, Bobbing on it's side, as if floating out to sea, Modestly Animated Egg begins it's slow dance to freedom, loosing all as the celestial light bronze inside pushes his way free. His is a long journey, taking many trips around the sands, until D'imler, now of Ista, remarks, "So there's a silent 'v', Sverdloth? Ah."

From the Sands, Shaioni's fingers twine with Kassandra's as she glances upon the green, a smile lighting her face. " Aye," she murmurs, still so amazingly joyful after her friend's Impression. " She's a beauty, definately..."

From the Sands, Anciently Marbled Egg trembles slightly in the soft, black Sands.
From the Sands, Anciently Marbled Egg has arrived.

Isyrath does as requested, of course. After all, no proper lady would ever eat too quickly or too much, hmm? So it is with slow, careful bites that Isyrath eats the strips of meat given to her, even deigning to emit a croon of acknowledgement, but only loud enough for Llilian to hear, of course.

From the Sands, "Oh Vesta!! Wonderful!" Serriena cries happy for her friend. As the green dragonet emerges from the Feathered Egg, she looks at it. She grins at the green dragonet. Hatching is so impressive.

From the Sands, Vesta helps Nimoth up and acknowledges Vecica without words, only helping the brown off the sands, crooning softly to him, "Yes, is coming."

From the Sands, Vecica heads over to the small niche.
Vecica comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Vesta heads over to the small niche.
Vesta comes over from the heat of the Sands.

J'sen is waiting nearby with a fresh bowl of meat and a ready grin for Vesta and Nimoth. "Congratulations," he smiles, gesturing to a place off to the side even as he hands over the bowl. "Careful not to feed him too fast."

From the Sands, Valin himself is surprised, as Ineban is. "Huh," says ever eloquent Val, shaking his head at the wonder of it all. But you know, there's a lot of empty and exploded eggs out there. He rubs the back of his head once, then shifts his gaze from what was to what will be, eyeing the various hatchlings that burst forth and wander about. Hullo? Hullo? Nobody's answering his thoughts. Ah well. "Pretty," he comments, for the umpteenth time.

From the Sands, Magic of the Evening Green Hatchling moves fluidly to her feet, wings raised, as she exuberantly dashes off towards those oddly white-shaded things that are in front of her. Ooh, they look decidibly nifty! Energetic movements keep her barely upright, as she performs this act, her bright croon echoing through the grounds. Another croon resounds, fleetingly taking over from this quick movement of hers, before seh rushes onwards once more.

From the Sands, Belena has partially disconnected.

From the Sands, Nimoth heads over to the small niche.
Nimoth comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Goldean twirls around from his back position to see the green appear from the shards, "Oh another green!" He calls before he looks back and forth watching the few left here. Cyan eyes begin to look to the ground but can't help but look up again toward the green, he may be sad but that energy is being surpressed to the max.

From the Sands, Belena grins, handing out unheard congratulations left and right now, it seems. She grins, trying to keep track of who's Impressed that she knows, while also watching the Hatchlings, and the rocking eggs. Perhaps she needs another eye? Nah....

Vecica pauses only to hand Vesta over, before making her way back to the Sands.

Vecica heads back over to the Sands at large.
From the Sands, Vecica comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.

From the Sands, Ineban closes his eyes for the briefest of moments as his fingers go to rub at throbbing temples, reverberating from the noise and crowd and what have you. Not for long, though, because he knows better, and soon the hazel irises are visible once again. Names of new weyrlings are murmured and tucked away.

From the Sands, Goran eyes the new green with admiration "Look at that.." he notes. "So tiny and dainty." Quite breathtaking, really. He sighs, shaking his head. "Who d'you think she'll choose?' He himself cannot decide, and has not even guessed right on half of the impressions to himself.

From the Sands, Kassandra watches the green dart about out of one corner of her eye, and watches the marbled egg twitch out of the other corner. It's hard looking everywhere at once. Her fingers are tightly intertwined with Shaioni's as she tries to keep an eye on the proceedings...somehow.

From the Sands, Another gasp escapes Kaera's lips as she gazes at another green, looking down the line of candidates again before peering back at the green. "" Well, at least she can talk now. Sweaty palms are wiped off on the pure white robe as she continues to watch the hatchling, still hopping from foot to foot every now and then.

From the Sands, Anciently Marbled Egg is a swirling chaos of muted shades, the cool marble of ivory and charcoal muting one into another to create a cloud-like imagery of mottled gray. As if the desert cracked by the steadily drying rain, this egg grows with an intricate webwork of deep crevices - straining more and more as the stone facade threatens to crumble.

From the Sands, Egg shards fly from Scattered Stone Remnants Egg, removing from the debris some pick out from the shell. Dawny and dainty is the delicate green that dances onto the sand, demurely presenting herself to Y'kyne of Telgar Hold. "Food is, er, this way, I think, Dhanyth."

Z'vind damps the fires, and touches up the appropriate places on Kealath's upturned brows. "Right, you must sleep. Rest for now. We'll talk later, I give my word." For how much that's worth. Brown head reclined against jet one, the pair dwindle into restful, blissful silence, for a while at least.

From the Sands, Serriena smiles at the rushing of the green dragonet. She is eager to get somewhere. Her eyes are drawn toward the Ancient Marbled Egg that is on the sand. She wipes her palms which are suddenly very damp indeed with excitement and anticipation .

Cymber's already gotten the lovely Genevrath sated. The two rest to the side of the alcove, each pressed close to the other. "Oh, Vesta," she murmurs, eyes lifting as her friend makes it in from the sands. "He's so handsome. Congratulations!"

Nimoth :pauses along the route to do some more gawking, mostly at the other clutch sibs. He croons softly, testing out his voice. Not bad.

From the Sands, Shansi's brow furrows slightly, glancing up at Goran. Now why does she feel so small all of a sudden? "Now how do you propose I move in front of you." Then her eyes narrow on him skeptically, "You want me as a shield, don't you?" Stand in front of him? Hah! Maybe she'll change her opinion when she catches the tailend of that green dragonet. "Oooh.." Now if only she'd admit she'll move.

From the Sands, Crystalline shades of blue mark Scarlet Disturbed Serenity Egg's contents as the hatchling falls to the sands. Creeping like some sleepy snail, he almost misses Boryne - B'ner - as he passes, luckily catching a glimpse in time to stop his movement then and there. B'ner chuckles: "Not far, Viteth, not far at all."

Vesta takes the proferred bowl with a radiant smile and settles to the floor, holding the bowl in her lap, tears shining in her dark blue eyes, "Come and get it, love." She strokes the brown's eyeridges with gentle fingers and offers him a nice chunk of red meat, "And do chew, dearest." Up to Vesta for just a moment, "Oh, isn't he...and your little one is lovely too..." Back to Nimoth, she grins, "Such a beautiful voice...I'll teach you all my favorite tunes."

From the Sands, A suffusion of black and white suddenly erupts as the Anciently Marbled Egg surrenders to the persistence of an inner force. As great sheets of stone might pummel the earth so do thick chunks of heavy eggshell fall away as a wedge shaped head forces through them. In a moment, the rest of the body follows - sturdily bronze, passionately colored.

That's up to Cymber...sigh...

From the Sands, --** Wine and Revelry Bronze Hatchling **--

Darkest ribbons of plum-hued wine spill carelessly across the glittering expanse of an incandescent bronze hide, setting it alight with an almost tangible gaiety. Splashing with a pale crest of rusted crimson are wide wingsails, themselves dancing with a merry lacing of heedlessly intertwined hues ranging from the blatant luxury of flaxen to the understated softness of silver. Bright flickers of tawny illumination overtake the thick muscles of sturdy haunches, alive with a rich array of daring plumage in a thousand gradient hues of bronze to form an incomprehensible vortex of mingling shades - pleasurable torment to try to discern one be-ribboned costume from the next. Licks of that same sugar coated lavender hinting at heedlessly overturned, thickly luxurious red wine trickle along the sturdy expanse of his chest, watery fingers reaching across his belly to envelop the dusky bronze of a summertime sunset with an entrancingly gossamer veil of sweetened copper - carried over to the richer amethyst of verdant grapes that cluster close on the spade of his stolidly thick tail. Similar hues of purplish pigment cloister across his headknobs: Filigreed ribbons of fruit-laden vines that intertwine at the crown of his noble wedge, tinged faintly olive where they dapple along his eyeridges to complete the semblance of reveling shades that overtake his lustrous, mottled bronze form.

From the Sands, Thalesin studies his toes for just a moment, then shifts his gaze back to the hatchlings. He's starting to look a little drained--it's tiring, after all, being on the Sands--but he keeps up his patient waiting and watching.

From the Sands, Goldean chuckles toward the green's such movements, he seems almost excited to see it. But of course he can't dance so he just watches the green from his view. Looking about he checks to see who she'll choose, but of course he can't think straight and he notes to himself, "Shouldn't of had so much klah this mornin'." His gaiety eyes travel from left to right to watch the impressions and hatchings. Though just an eye travels to the bronze, "Handsome." Now he can two to keep track of, though the green seems to have more attention

From the Sands, As is his wont, Dakar arches a single, ebon brow at the appearance of another bronze onto the sands. He licks lips gone dry again, in spite of himself, and tries to swallow. But his throat is bone-dry.

J'sen smiles like a doting father over all his new charges. "If anyone needs anything, don't hesitate to ask. Everything you need is here and once all the eggs have hatched, we'll move along to the barracks and get you all settled for the night."

From the Sands, Ineban has fallen into a pitiful state of confusion by now, sweat-soaked and nervous, blinking water droplets from his eyes. "They're going so fast..." Oh. Faranth. The boys next to him suck in their breaths in sync with him, all three pairs of eyes falling unerringly upon the bronze. He, Ineban, goes taut, sends a look to Dakar.

From the Sands, Goran chuckles at Shansi's words "Y'think I would do that, d'you?" he murmurs, and edges his way past a few candidates who stand in front of him, trying to tug her forward so she can see. "What I do want t'do is have y'be able to see." is added gently as he points to the newly opened path..."If y'like.."

From the Sands, Valin looks down to the sands, belatedly realizing they're hot, and he's not so comfortable anymore. And so begins anew the Candidate dance, a little bit of crab-stepping and bouncing, which happens to greet the newest bronze's arrival.

From the Sands, Shaioni tenses at the green's rush. " She could hurt someone," she whispers, sliding towards Kassandra. There's safety in numbers, after all.

From the Sands, Magic of the Evening Green Hatchling pauses in front of Belena, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

Llilian tilts her head, as her feeding continues, offeringit in slow, careful movements, despite the hunger she can feel as if it were her own, and perhaps, in a way, it is her own. A moment, to shift to crosslegged, as she sets the bowl into her lap, using one hand to feed and the other to caress as she's directed.

From the Sands, Serriena can't help but look a bit disappointed as her favorite egg, the one she saw clutched, isn't a color for her. But she watches the bronze, waiting to see who he will pick.

Cymber's enchanted smile drifts up toward J'sen, a fulfillment in the girl's eyes present that before had gone, unknowingly, missing. She doesn't utter a sound though, merely nods lazily before drawing Genevrath even closer into her side with a reverence love that approaches awe.

From the Sands, A duo of greens emerge almost at the exact same time, Onslaught Of Darkness Egg and Midnight-Driven Blizzard Egg ending their time on the sands. Two girls, both of Ista, remark all at once their lifemate's names, while the weyrlingmasters lead them off to food. Meijith and Meiath follow obidiently the heals of those perfect girls they have chosen.

Vesta giggles at Nimoth and touches his belly with her hand, then hers, "Its called food, darling. It will make the ache in our tummy go away. And chew is...mush it up in your mouth," She touches his mouth, "and then swallow it down."

From the Sands, As Belena's green lifemate pauses before her, Ranwen smiles and whispers to the new rider, "Congratulations, Belena!" Her smile is genuine, even if she is still silently hopeful.

From the Sands, Kassandra smiles faintly at the appearance of the bronze, and at the little green's finding Belena. "A bronze," she says, nudging Shaioni. She can relax a little, as she won't interest a bronze.

From the Sands, Obsidian Imagery Egg dissolves into shades of dark green as it presents it's precious cargo onto the sands. The green patters towards a group of girls, and then towards three boys, all of whom are rejected. The stands are eyed a long moment, and then, she turns on his heals, only to run right into the newly named A'rei, whose surprised comment is that of: "Alexith, be careful!"

From the Sands, Shaioni is nudged, and grins towards Kassi. " Aye," is the soft reply, though she doesn't look quite as thrilled as her peer. A bronze means no Impression for the likes of her.

From the Sands, Kaera grins as another egg breaks and a bronze appears. "Wow, handsome fellow." She drags her eyes back towards the green for a moment, trying to watch both hatchlings at once. She grins as the green impresses, nodding to Belena. "Congrats!" She watches the bronze now, looking all the male candidates over, a hint of curiousity appearing in her eyes.

From the Sands, Shansi holds a hand to her throat, blinking as he starts to move away. "I-" That's all that comes out for a moment, and then she huffs. "Well! What a wonderful gentleman you are!" Not said all to kindling, but forward she does move, to bad she snags his hand, tugging him along with her, "You aren't leaving me, boy," She snorts. She can see now. She's fine. Now for that bronze.... appreciation does nothing but widen her eyes considerably, mouth forming a small O.

From the Sands, Ah, Belena...a green. That evokes a smile upon Dakar's thin lips, the former smith proud of a friend who has now seen her dream realized.

From the Sands, Jalani jumps on her tiptoes. "Oh Belena!" The greenrider rushes towards the newest weyrling, beaming from ear to ear. "Green!"

Z'vind rolls his greys to whites, at J'sen. "Getting settled sounds... comfortable," he agrees, then starts a bit as the slumbering brown stirs on his chest. "No, sleep, sleep, Kealath." He'd better; Zar's nearly been bested by this young one.

From the Sands, Congratulations Belena? Valin's head snaps up and he looks down the line, his jaw dropping.

From the Sands, Serriena jumps up and down, "Oh a green for Belena!" She smiles radiantly.

Nimoth obligingly does what his new lifemate does, mimicing her to a T. A startled look shows he's not expecting what he tastes. That tiny maw makes short work of the meat though, eyes whirling to ask for more.

From the Sands, Goldean nods quietly toward Belena as he just looks about, a little bit more sad, though eyes do travel hopefully toward the bronze with his ever so cute look. Maybe he'll like Dean, maybe. Just a sigh of energy before his toes roll him up and back, almost a Candi-dance without much of a dance at all.

Isyrath continues to eat with the grace befitting her flaxen hue - proper as a Lady Holder - indeed, despite the immense hunger welled up inside her still tiny body. She unfurls her wings for a moment, letting them dry just a bit more as she eats.

From the Sands, Wine and Revelry Bronze Hatchling is perhaps too large for himself, for it takes him some time to recover from the initial, unsteady shock of leaving his shell. Indeed, there comes a long moment of utter stillness from the young bronze as he considers these new surroundings with a stoic silence: So this is the world. Interesting. By and by, he is on the move.

From the Sands, Belena's eyes flit to look at all the new hatchlings, before slowing doing a double take back to a certain little green. She grins, and exclaims, "Oh Aiareth! Of course I'll get you some food!" She turns her head to grin at Jalani, and nods, rubbing at the little greens headknobs, lovingly.

From the Sands, Verdantly Bedecked Monument Egg takes one last look around, twirling on it's axis, and dissolves into shards, revealing the blueberry shaded hatchling inside. He takes one step, falters, and then, rushes forward, not quite knocking poor T'mor off his feet in the process.

From the Sands, Jalani gestures to the newest pair to follow her. "Careful now."

From the Sands, Ineban's eyes are only for the bronze. I know, I know, there's more to life than bronze dragon, but what Pernese boy hasn't dreamed of being perched between those burnished neckridges? Intrigued by the coloring (oh, sa-woon), he spares only a slow, dreamlike look to... Well, note to self: "Belena and green Aiareth." Spiffy.

From the Sands, Aiareth croons! Yes! Oh, this surely is a happy day. Calloo, Callay!

From the Sands, Goran just grins at Shansi; she's not long on gratefulness, at that. " y'can see. And that ...Belena, is her name? She just got that green y'were admiring" he notes, and then sees the next new hatchling on the move "Look...another bronze.." He adds, admiring the size "Goin t'be a big one, too."

From the Sands, Jalani heads over to the small niche.
Jalani comes over from the heat of the Sands.

Vesta smiles at Nimoth, "Perfect. Yes, I've got plenty." She begins giving the brown bites of meat as quickly as he can chew them.

From the Sands, Belena grins and nods, following Jalani, after checking to make sure Aiareth is following as well, of course.

From the Sands, Belena heads over to the small niche.
Belena comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Aiareth heads over to the small niche.
Aiareth comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, T'rrent has disconnected.
From the Sands, T'rrent has connected.

From the Sands, Crimson Interruption Egg trembles slightly in the soft, black Sands.
From the Sands, Crimson Interruption Egg has arrived.

Jalani heads back over to the Sands at large.
From the Sands, Jalani comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.

From the Sands, Stoic silence. How admirable. Dakar watches the bronze's progress with obvious interest, trying his best not to show his eagerness. It worls. Mostly.

From the Sands, Gilded wingsails emerge from the depths of the Convoluted Entanglement Egg, presenting a bronzen feast for the eyes. Nonetheless, a loud, obnoxious bray, destroys that particular image, fueled by the wobbly dance towards former harper Hanril. Impression made, H'nil comments, "Perhaps a little quiet, Ghafoth?"

Myrdith takes one last pice of meat then gives a dragon burp. J'nah grins, "OK, thats enough, you'll stuff youself." Myrdith croons and lays his head against his lifefriend, and starts to blink sleepily. "Its been a long day, I am so.. tired."

From the Sands, Goldean smiles as he looks toward the bronze with a such cheerful smile across his face, well as cheerful as his little low on klah face can get. He seems to be needing a refill on klah sometimes soon. Though hopeful eyes do wander toward the crimson egg also.

J'sen grabs a bowl of fresh meat gobbets and intercepts Belena and her lifemate right off. "What a beauty you've got there," he grins, leading them off to an unoccupied spot. "I'll bet she's hungry, right?"

From the Sands, Crimson Interruption Egg spins with inner purpose, its tip slowly shifting ever closer to the ebony sands in a graceful, gravity-pulled arc. A very percise jerk, creates the most percise spiral image in its wake and then suddenly, the egg stills, seemingly satisfied with its progress for the moment.

From the Sands, Ranwen is excited...all of these bronzes upon the sands! Without even bothering to think that she has no hope at impressing them, she admires.

Llilian's smile turns to a faint frown. How could she have missed such a simple thing, and then, with a soft, "Of course, love," She reaches out to scratch Isyrath's eyeridge, eyes glancing away, looking for someone or another to help. "She's itching...did I do something wrong?"

Nimoth snaps at the meat, careful to not get any of Vesta's fingers in the process. Tendrils of red hang out the sides of his maw as he glances over at the gold hatchling, wobbling as he moves. Isn't he cute?

From the Sands, Shansi tugs at his hand, making sure Goran is right at his side. "Ain't going to get rid of me, boy." She breathes quietly, nodding, "Aye, Belena. Dear Belena got a green." Why does she not sound so happy about that? Anyway, a small husky chuckle eminates from deep within her throat. "Wonderful bronze he is. Going to grow up mighty just like his dam, for sure.."

From the Sands, Serriena still continues to watch the little bronze. She tracks his progress on the sands with her dark blue eyes.

J'nah dropped Myrdith.

J'sen strides over quick after having handed the bowl to Belena. "No, you haven't, Llilian. And no worries, either." He bends down and snags a pot of oil off a shelf of supplies. "Just slather this on the spot and she'll be just fine."

From the Sands, Valin blinks a few more times as Belena wanders off, and he finally remembers to close his mouth. It's already hot and dry down here. The Candidate takes a deep breath, shaking his head as though to clear it, and eventually turns back to the sands. Bronzes, and a lot of them. Eyebrows arched, Val watches each one... or tries to, anyway.

Belena calls Aiareth closer to her.

From the Sands, Dakar reaches up to scratch absently at one cheek, only noting the heat when he realizes bloody hot his skin is. But that glimmer of thought is all he gives to the state of his body temperature..or the heart which beats madly within his chest. A bronze has his rapt attention.

From the Sands, Kaera blinks and looks over at yet anohter bronze, muttering names for a moment before looking back at the first bronze. She watches all that goes on around her, shifting silently from foot to foot, glancing at the others watching again before taking her gaze back towards the dark sands.

J'nah calls Myrdith closer to him.

Llilian turns warm, grateful eyes to J'sen. He's so helpful, isn't he? And then, with a soft thank you, she accepts the pot, using gentle fingers to spread oil over the itchy places, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't say such things, forgive me, love."

Belena has disconnected.

Vesta laughs softly at Nimoth, her eyes going over to look at Isyrath and Llilian as well, "I'm sure she thinks you're cute, dearest...I certainly do." She tucks hanging meat into the brown's mouth with no regard for her fingers. Then she runs her hands over his wingsails, back, tail, reveling in his softness.

From the Sands, Goran chuckles and squeezes Shansi's hand again. He isn't going anywhere, really. "No ma'am" he reassures, however, "I ain't goin t'leave you, if y'want me to stay.." Not quite sure /why/ she does, but happy nonetheless to not have to stand alone. "Look...another bronze."

From the Sands, Kassandra turns her attention from the bronze to the spinning of yet another egg from the clutch, since a bronze will not be interested in her. She nudges Shaioni lightly. "Look at that one," she murmurs, pointing at the crimson-hued egg. "It's pretty."

From the Sands, That thar bronze has Ineban's attention, too. Fighting to stay alert and upright, the fellow sways a little between those who flank him, readjusting himself repeatedly. Bronze. Bronzebronze... "*Shards*." Clever wordage. That'll impress it, oh yeah.

J'sen glances around the rest of the new weyrlings. "Anyone else? They shouldn't need a full oiling yet, but they may have an itchy patch or two."

From the Sands, Crimson Interruption Egg quavers yet again, or was that a movement? It stills for a long moment. Then it moves again, with increasing tempo, a series of semiquavers, and then with another spin, a sharp rap can be heard from within. Attention, if you please? It begins to rock smoothly, a steady back-and-forth motion as even as a heartbeat.

Nimoth would purr if he were a feline, or if he even knew what a feline was, at the touch of Vesta's hand. As she touches one spot, he jerks, head twisting to peer at her.

From the Sands, Shaioni turns her eyes to the crimson egg, nodding slightly. " It is," affirms the candidate. " I wonder what color it'll drop." A slight grin. " A dragon for you, perhaps?"

J'nah looks blank as he connects with his friend, then looks at J'sen "No, he says he is itch free.. for now."

Isyrath tilts her head to one side, just so, at Llilian's question...but the girl's apology ilicits a soft croon from the gold. Hunger sated at last, she finally decides to rest herself, folding her wings again, and settling down onto the sand.

Vesta tilts her head at Nimoth, "Feeling itchy, dear? Right there?" She waves her hand at J'sen, "Please, sir. He's got a spot."

Z'vind detaches from sand-gazing to sniff (softly) toward J'sen, and as for the oil, he just looks. Contemplates. Thought doesn't require movement. A word, two. "Over here."

From the Sands, Serriena finds her attention captured bye the Crimson interruption egg.. Who can ignore the colors of it? She watches the egg intently.

From the Sands, Crimson Interruption Egg stops. Its wandering perambulations cease entirely, leaving one to wonder if this egg is going to hatch at all. A moment later, the very top of the egg lifts off, and is deliberately tossed aside. A blue head peeks up and takes its first look at the outside world. It glances, first, at Trinyth and Morpheth, then at the gathered Candidates. The head vanishes again. Another moment later, the egg rolls to point that hatch-like opening right at the semicircle of humans, and out walks the sapphire blue occupant.

From the Sands, --** Disguised in Midnight Blue Hatchling **--

Sinuous streamers of summertime midnight spread, cimmerian and random, about this evening blue from head to tail, dividing a vibrant sapphire outline like some accidental attempt at camouflage. Tendrils of cerulean seem to slither along his muscular form with an eerie intelligence, forming wispy circles at their twilit extremities in defiant contrast against the light dusting of sparkling stars that dot the darkened turquoise skyscape of his chest and back. Brilliant, white-fire dapples lend aureate luminescence to the lavender undertones of shadowed surroundings, gathering illumination in higher concentration as they near the otherwise faint delineation of his spine - the frosted moonlight of proud neckridges further elaborated by the haphazard constellations. Erratic ribbons of caliginous, velvety blue trespass the vivid cobalt canvas of his haunches, winding down toward the very tip of his forked tail where they collide with the faint remnants - the trailing edge - of this glowing starfield. Serpentine markings, darkly writhing, embrace the rest of his sisal blue form to creep along the leading edges of his wings finely honed bones, skirting along the pinions with the paler purchase of predawn illumination. So weak is their influence in this region that nary a trace of the undulating bands can be found on his wingsails, leaving the hue of the Istan night sky to dominate their coloration entirely - all the soft warmth of a tropical evening collected in the close confines. So perfect a match has been made, in fact, that this impossibly rich coloration adds further to his night time subterfuge.

Nimoth headbutts his lifemate, not once but twice, gently to be sure, yet with conviction. Does the word 'Now' mean anything to her?

J'sen chuckles and moves around handing out the small mug-sized pots of oil. "A little should do just fine," he instructs, stopping near Vesta, then Z'vind. "Tell them it won't be much longer, either, then we have a nice couch for each of them."

Cymber is comfortable.. a lulling numbness settling into her limbs, though not half so much as Genevrath, for the exquisite little green is dozing, wedge head resting against her lifemate's ribs, beneath the girl's embracing. She surely must not itch. Yet.

From the Sands, Ranwen watches with wide eyes as a blue comes into the words, smiling with anticipation, hope, and just sheer excitement at the whole scene. She glances to the candidates nearest here, grabbing someone's hand and squeezing tightly, before she turns her attention back to the blue.

From the Sands, Shansi is nervous. Terribly nervous. And she doesn't want Goran to know that. No matter how much it shows in her shaky moment, or that quivvering tone, her hiding it doesn't do much for her. Never, ever will she admit it, though. "Leave me and I'll kill ya.." She warns, fruitlessly. Hrm. She then laughs. "Aye, 'tis a wonderful bronze.. wonder who?" Blue right.. blue.. there's another one she catches.

Llilian sets aside her bowl, now empty, and the pot as well, until it's needed, and then, as she turns to rest on the edge of her hip, with legs adjusted for the darling curled close to her body, she turns her attention to proper oiling.

From the Sands, Goldean watches the bronze so intently, it's almost one of those stares that someone cannot break, but of corner of the eye look toward the blue breaks that viewing as he twirls to see this other dragonet, a smile breaks his so solemn face to watch both dragons and he himself seems so happy to be here.

From the Sands, Thalesin turns his gaze towards the blue, catching sight of it just as it emerges, and his gaze lingers on the dappling. "A blue." Thalesin, master of the obvious. He watches the blue's entry into the world, then grins at a quiet comment from the Candidate just to his left.

From the Sands, Shaioni takes a deep breath, hand squeezing Kassi's. " Oh, look at him." Hope springs into her eyes as she stares at the dragonet. " He's so lovely..."

From the Sands, "Maybe." That's all Kassandra will say about those odds. Just then the crimson-splashed egg reveals a little blue hatchling. "Oh, he's charming," she says, smiling.

From the Sands, Wine and Revelry Bronze Hatchling begins to get the knack of this walking bit, carefully. But even that is too much to ask and, as if pre-ordained, he trips himself up on a wingsail he is unable to manage. Stumbling, he lurches forward blindly and, in a moment, it is all matter of ungainly new limbs that leave him literally tumbling into Dakar, the bulk presumably enough to bowl the boy and likely scathe him on the way down. An errant talon leaches toward Valin, claiming purchase in his left foot and wrenching there. Crooning piteously - that did not go as all as he had planned - he is a lost creature who somehow finds purpose amid the chaos.

Vesta gives Nimoth a pert glance and dips into the pot, slathering oil on the klah and cinnamon colored hide, "Got it, love."

Hush. Kealath is asleep. Z'vind nods stiffly, "fine", and accepts a pot from J'sen, slathering a thin film over itchy new hide.

From the Sands, Wine and Revelry Bronze Hatchling pauses in front of Dakar, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

From the Sands, Ineban can't help but appreciate the arrival of this azure dragonet, dragging his attention from the bronze with an appreciative sound accompanying it. "Lovely creature." Oh! Heartbreak! It takes just that moment for the metallic fellow to find his 'mate, and as the disappointed moans go up through the boys, he whirls. "--Dakar? D'kar! Yeah!"

From the Sands, Kaera smiles as she hears a gasp, but it isn't her this time. She giggles and watches the little blue, her sweaty hands still kept at her sides as she tries to watch both the blue and the bronze. "Cute little..." She stops speaking long enough to watch the bronze, wincing for a moment before a slight smile appears on her face. "Congrats, Dakar."

From the Sands, Goran squeezes Shansi's hand again, noting the blue's arrival, "I ain't plannin t'die today" is responded, though absently as he catches sight of the bronze's impression. "Look at that. Dakar..." He grins, shifting his feet again. "Are your feet gettin hot? Mine are about on fire, I think."

From the Sands, Dakar takes a deep breath, glancing at another candidate as he is bowled over by a weight which surprises him. He is on the sands in an instant, pushing himself up on hands which will blister from the heat and ignoring that heat completely as a mind explodes into contact with his. "MArcath..." he intones, voice raspy from dry throat, as he stands unsteadily, reaching out to touch the bronze...

From the Sands, Alyssa perks up instantly, the heat which had left her still and silent fading somewhat as she takes note of the newest happening. "He fell?" She glances to T'rrent, relief to come at first as it seems Dakar has survived the incident in tact. "Who is that other boy? Go and see if he's all right," she prompts the Weyrleader. Be useful.

From the Sands, Disguised in Midnight Blue Hatchling lifts his wings -just so- as the he steps out of the last confines of his shell. He looks about the sands, calm, cool and collected. None of this senseless dashing around for him. He has it all together. If he can only get that last bit of shell off the back of his tail. A calculated quiver and a large shard flies off. AH! Better. He demonstrates to a hatchling beside him, this is the proper way to get the shell off. But on to more important things. Just where could -the- one be? He sets off across the sands.

From the Sands, "Wow," Valin had begun to comment to Dakar. " 'E's comin' this... hey! Whoa!" The tithe stampede is lookin' /real/ good now. Val, unsure whether he should stand his ground, leap left, or leap right, hesitates just a second too long, and the bronze's claw, soft and new, is still sharp enough to pierce. Herdbeasts are supposed to be attacked by dragons, not the herdbeasts' /keeper/. "/Shard/it," Val gasps, stumbling down to one knee as he's blooded -- and passed by, to add insult to injury, quite literally.

From the Sands, Ineban lifts a hand to wipe at his forehead -- a futile gesture -- and as the word 'Marcath' reaches his ears, his shoulders begin to sag. There can't possibly be more after that. A deep breath and he turns away, blocking it out to watch the others. And hope.

From the Sands, Vecica minces her way from the sidelines to the newly Impressed pair, gesturing towards the sandy niche. "All right, you two. Oh, Marcath's a handsome fellow, D'kar. Food's right this way, follow me, step lightly . . . And congratulations!"

From the Sands, Moving a bit away, Serriena beams at the happy twosome of Dakar and Marcath. She smiles happy the egg she liked found a good person to impress. Her attention to turns to the blue, "Zounds, he reminds me of home. I used to watch the morning sky, the afternoon sky and the evening sky and he looks like all three!"

From the Sands, Kassandra's hand goes to her mouth, and her eyes widen as the bronze snags Valin--and chooses Dakar. "Oh..." she gasps, then falls silent, eyes looking suspiciously liquidy.

From the Sands, Goran winces a bit at Valin's being injured in that particular impression, but then turns to watch the blue, who will presumably find a lifemate as well; hopefully with less chaos, indeed.

From the Sands, Dakar follows after Vecica, wordless, amazed, and...realizing his hands are burnt.

From the Sands, Vecica heads over to the small niche.
Vecica comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Marcath tries very hard to right himself, but it's none too easy given his current predicament. His talon carefully extricated from Valin, he spares no time to blink upon the injured fellow. No, he's busy mooning over Dakar with all the worry of the world in his visage. For all the tumble, the bronze seems to be quite all right.

From the Sands, Dakar heads over to the small niche.
Dakar comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Marcath heads over to the small niche.
Marcath comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Shaioni gasps softly. " Oh, Faranth," she breathes, attention taken from the blue by Valin and Dakar's... D'kar's... endangerment. " Oh... are they alright?" Hatchlings are forgotten as hunter focuses on her fellows.

From the Sands, Thalesin hssts in sympathetic pain as he spots the injury, and his features crease in a wince. "Worse things'n not Impressing," he murmurs. "Ow." He does, however, wave after Dakar, with a brief grin.

From the Sands, Goldean smiles and nods, "Oh D'kar and Marcath, nice!" He calls out to the calm person, calm is the opposite of the boy over here. Then his view does a full 360 to see the blue walking and himself is just watching, so exciting though some sort of worry has come over his face as he watches.

From the Sands, Filaments of the Scarlet Of Oppression Egg grace black sands with their presence, chipping at the solid enclosure that keeps hatchling from lifemate. Rolling on it's side, two limbs become visible, although the hatchling itself remains trapped. Finally, with no little effort, the meadow green manages to break free, and march towards Rilque; the candidate storyteller, who remarks, "Boy have we got a lot to do, huh, Rhalth?" Handsome R'lue and his lifemate walk off the sands together.

From the Sands, Megara steps onto the searing black Sands from the foyer.

From the Sands, Jalani strides over to Valin, looking around her as she does, trying to spot a healer, just in case they are needed.

Now, Cymber's already tended her lovely lifemate, and is in prime position to watch those newcome from the sands, as her fingers never ever cease their stroking of an aquamarine hide. "Da.. D'kar.." is whispered as said former-smith makes his appearance. And her eyes don't glimmer, they shed tears of joy.. for another.

Vecica watches as the new bronzerider and his lifemate are turned over to the Weyrlingmaster, before the woman turns back for the sands.

Vecica heads back over to the Sands at large.
From the Sands, Vecica comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.

From the Sands, "Is Valin alright?" Serriena asks the question not sure. She frowns, the excitement abated a bit by the injury.

From the Sands, Shansi notes the clashing between the bronze and Valin, but there is nothing she can... or wisely.. should do. For now, she'll settle with shifting from foot to foot. "My feet hot? Nah!" Flat out liar, she is.

Isyrath seems to revel in her lifemate's minstrations, though a true lady would never overtly show such pleasure. So, it is with nearly inaudible, but noticably tired croons that she makes her thanks known to her perfect Llilian. Her eyes lid slowly shut as she drifts to sleep, curled up next to her new lifemate.

Vesta looks up from oiling Nimoth to blinks, "Dak..." she breathes. Her hand, paused momentarily starts up again at another headbutt from her brown lifemate.

J'sen is once again waiting at the entrance to the alcove, this time a look of concern on his face overriding the joy of a newly impressed pair. "I caught a glimpse of that fall. You alright, D'kar?" he asks seriously, the eternal bowl of meat still in his hand, regardless.

D'kar smiles as he walks in with Vecica and his new lifemate. He looks to the berilliantly hued beast, and shakes his head. "I'm fine, brother," he intones softly, reaching out to..touch him.

Z'vind fingers Kealath's head slowly, and sends an upward glance to the former-smith, former-candidate: recognition.

From the Sands, Megara comes scurrying around the entrance to the sands, sticking to the edge of the sands. And heading directly for Valin. At least one of the watching healers has sense enough to toss a small emergency kit in the woman's direction, which she catches neatly. Her growing bulk does little to impede her, though she snaps, "Watch the hatchlings!" to a few candidates who glance her way. And finally, she makes it to Valin's side.

From the Sands, Kaera frowns and watches Valin and the bronze, looking away, her gaze falling onto the blue. She runs her sweaty hands down the side of her robe, wiping them off. She lifts one foot up know, wincing at the heat that continues to creep through her sandals.

Vesta calls Nimoth closer to her.

From the Sands, Disguised in Midnight Blue Hatchling passes by a group of candidates who just -aren't- paying attention. How can he possibly guide and help any of them, no, they just aren't the right ones. Let them find their own inferior way. Suddenly, he stops dead in his tracks. This one has possibilities. With a tilt of his triangular head and a croon of his melodious voice, he blinks adoringly. His pupil, the one who he can groom, a protegee, if you will, one with whom he can lead others to glorious things. Oh! It is her!

From Isyrath's lower neckridges, Agent Smith is just...gone, leaving a very confused innocent in his stead.

From the Sands, Alyssa's lips press as she vacates her spot near Trinyth, scaling the Sands in several long, easy steps toward the fallen boy. "I knew it was all going too well," she comments, coming to stand a few feet off from Valin with only a glance over her shoulder to assure no similar fate is headed her way. "Will he be all right, Healer?" she adds, brow furrowed.

Llilian calls Isyrath closer to her.

From the Sands, Serriena moves closer to Kassandra, smiling at the Holder's daughter. "I do hope Valin will be alright." she tells her.

From the Sands, Hot as the sands are, Valin rests a hand upon them, and he lurches back upright, unable to disguise a wince. Yes, yes. He can stand, though it's obvious he's not putting all that much weight on that injured foot at the moment, which was neatly pierced, though not all the way through, thank Faranth. He's sweating... a /lot/ more. Jaw and one fist clenched, he tries to wave aside the help that comes, even if he's looking a little pale. " 'M fine," he mutters.

From the Sands, Disguised in Midnight Blue Hatchling pauses in front of J'nah, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

From the Sands, E'stan steps onto the searing black Sands from the foyer.

From the Sands, Ranwen is still here, watching the few remaining eggs...candidates...all of it with still rapt attention. She says nothign at the moment, but does look to Valin to make sure the fellow is all right.

From the Sands, <OOC> T'rrent says, "Disregard that..."

Llilian dropped Isyrath.

From the Sands, Didarath Disguised in Midnight Blue Hatchling pauses in front of Kassandra, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

From the Sands, Ineban takes note once again: "Rilque -- R'lue -- and Rhalth." Right. Okay. He swivels in time to catch the blue's Impression, passing a worried glance over the fallen Valin as he goes. Hesitantly, he lurches forward a step or two to see what's going on, then pauses to reconsider. Hm. And the blue? "Kassandra!"

From the Sands, Serriena focuses back in on the eggs and dragons. "Kass he's looking at you!" she grins.

From the Sands, Goran chuckles at Shansi's comment. "Y'don't tell the truth much, do you?" he teases. "Y'must have ice for feet, if they aren't hot by now..." which means she is lying, right?

From the Sands, Didarath pauses in front of Kassandra, looking up with gently whirling eyes.

From the Sands, E'stan follows Meg out onto the Sands, sending the dam and sire a quick glance. There's no way he's letting Meg and his unborn babe out there without him. In a few brief seconds, he's at her side, shielding her from all the chaos around her and Valin.

D'kar is listening to the inner voice of his lifemate, and he nods once again, looking a bit awestruck in spite of himself. "It's...over..." he casts about, before asking, "He needs food. Where..?"

From the Sands, Telise, forgotten and left behind by friends injured or Impressed, heaves a sigh as Enchanted Opportunity Egg hatches, and hatches a blue. A waste, perhaps. Not so, according to that blue, who wastes no time in making himself the very last Impression of the night, and informing Telise of his name. "Jhenth? Oh, all right, Jhenth." And with that, a collective sigh goes about those around her. All gone.

From the Sands, Kassandra blinks...and pauses...and blinks...and falls to her knees, totally disregarding the heat of the sands as she stares at the blue before her. "D...Didarath? Didarath!!" she cries out, delightedly, reaching out to stroke the blue's eyeridges.

From the Sands, Megara just stares intently at Valin, shaking her head. "Sit yourself down," she states calmly, gaze mild but steely. "Just for a moment. I have a feeling that I'll be able to take care of you in short order. But you have to give me a chance first." She's already unpacking the numbweed, working quickly. Eyes glance up toward the other parts of the sands, wary.

From the Sands, Vecica makes her way for the new pair, glowing. Yup, another pair - this would get old if it wasn't so sweet and wonderful and nice. Except for the poor boy who got injured. . . "C'mon, Kassandra. He's Didarath? Let's get him some food. Follow me . . ." She extends a helpful hand.

J'sen chuckles and hands over the bowl he's been holding all the while. "Right here, D'kar. Congratulations," he grins, gesturing over to one of the few empty spaces left in the alcove.

Llilian sets aside the pot of oil, a tender caress offered to a soft cheek, as Isyrath drifts off to sleep, and she settles down onto the sandy ground, curling her body protectively against her lifemate's form, finally giving vent to the tears she only sported for those first few moments off on the sands, until more pressing needs arose.

From the Sands, Kassandra looks up, and gets up, hands feeling a little scorched. She follows.

From the Sands, Vecica heads over to the small niche.
Vecica comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Kassandra heads over to the small niche.
Kassandra comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Serriena grins and steps away from Kassandra. All of her friends have rapidly disappeared. She is so happy for them and yet now she stands by herself on the sands. Without her friends she suddenly looks very timid and nervous.

From the Sands, Abalonie is far, far from Valin, but she does notice it.. concern lighting in her tired eyes, but seeing he's taken care of now, she'll remain quiet. Besides, Kassandra's impression looks much more interesting now. Oh, and she'll watch out for herself. No need for too many injuries tonight.

It's not over; never over, not for Z'vind. He leans back into the alcove's wall, in repose for the here and now.

Marcath is moving much better now, though it seems he's very slightly wrenched his wing and is dragging the thing but slightly as he goes. Nothing serious, mind you, just a little ache that will likely heal itself. Still, he's more attentive of his newfound lifemate than anything, not even emitting so much as a croon of complaint as he follows the lad.

J'sen steps over to perform the drill with Kassandra, offering her a very sincere congratulations as well as a bowl of meat for the little blue.

From the Sands, Didarath heads over to the small niche.
Didarath comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Ineban slumps. And Jhenth. The end. Taking a deep breath, turning with eyes forced tightly shut, he chokes back a disappointed sob. "I can't believe..all that for..." Nothing. All alone.

Vecica leads Kassandra in, pausing to give J'sen a nod before she returns out to the Sands. Shuttle weyrlings back and forth, back and forth. . .

Vecica heads back over to the Sands at large.
From the Sands, Vecica comes over from the small area reserved for weyrlings.

From the Sands, Valin strains and cranes his neck to see over and around the concerned people, but gives up after just a few seconds of this, bowing his head and setting himself down, with a gasp of pain.

D'kar leads his lifemate over to feed, and it says something about the bond between rider and lifemate that he is more concerned with the injury to his lifemate than anything done to him. "IS your wing allright?" he asks softly...

From the Sands, Kaera grins and looks over at Kassandra, still slightly smiling. She watches Valin for a moment, the smile disappearing as a frown replaces it. She shudders and looks down at the sands for a moment, then over at the people still watching. She turns to the girl next to her, exchanging frowns before looking over at Valin again.

From the Sands, Shaioni glances around, shrugs, and moves towards the other rejected Candidates. She has a life... she has a home... maybe someday... but that's the future. Now, it's time to get back to work.

Kassandra beams at all her friends before accepting the bowl from J'sen. Chunk of meat after chunk of meat starts traveling down Didarath's throat. "It's all right, Didarath, it's all right...uhm...maybe you want to chew that?" she says as the chunks vanish down his throat rapidly.

From the Sands, E'stan stoops down, spreading out the supplies in the Kit Megara was tossed. He sends a candidate the Evil Eye when the boy gets too close. "Meg. Please. Be careful. Can I help get him out of here?" he tones, sending her a *very* concerned look.

Vesta sighs softly as Nimoth's head begins to bob, and his inner eyelids begin to droop. Vesta gathers him into her best she can...and rocks him gently. Kassandra gets a surprised beam from her spot on the sandy floor.

From the Sands, Alyssa looks toward the Healer and her patient, biting at her lower lip in worried agitation. "Well, I suppose that isn't too bad. One semi-minor injury... Assuming the bronze is fine." She steps away at that point, trying to let Megara have her space but hovering about the perimeter nonetheless. It's only then that she looks back, noting the last of the pairs skirting off the Sands. To T'rrent, she offers but a silent nod.

From the Sands, Thalesin looks about for the next... oh. He rubs at the back of his neck, damp curls twining around his hand for a moment. "Well," he murmurs. And once more. "Well." He shakes his head, then, casting a look over his shoulder, towards the stands.

Didarath :blinks as he thinks. Perhaps chewing is in order. He methodically begins to chew, in percise, even movements, staring at Kassandra, adoringly, at the same time.

From the Sands, Goldean scoots his body over toward Ineban, "That wasn't for nothing at all." He just tosses on his feet while looking about to the others.

"Cognratulations, Kass.. I knew it." Cymber is more ecstatic than ever before. This time. Her life is perfect. Beautiful Genevrath. All her friends. D'kar. It can get no better. Though her smile is wearied now, it is alight with wonder and a peace she'd not heretofore known. Is it silly to kiss a dragon? She doesn't care, leaning to bestow one atop the dozing green beauty's head.

From the Sands, T'rrent, who had been wandering around picking up bits of shell for some reason or another, halts after finding the last piece he was looking for. Placing this last one in a pouch at his hip, he smiles to himself, and then up at his lifemate. He draws in a deep breath, and loses his smile. With a slow, steady gait, he approaches the remaining Candidates... "Before you all leave, I would like to say a few words..." He waits to have their full attention.

From the Sands, Megara nods approvingly, giving the injury a quick glance. After all, the sands are not a place for extended treatments. Rummaging through the pack at her feet, she pulls out a small pot of numbweed, opening it and one, two, three, expertly applying a layer of numbweed. "I'm fine, E'stan," she states evenly, voice a bit detached. "I've done Sands duty before." One more inspection, a soft sigh, and she glances up at Valin. "This'll do for now. But you'd best get yourself to the infirmary so we can fix you up properly." She then wipes her hands off and packs up the kit, frowning at numbing fingers. One hand is held up to E'stan.

From the Sands, Jalani ushers the last weyrling towards the niche.

From the Sands, Jalani heads over to the small niche.
Jalani comes over from the heat of the Sands.

Kassandra grins down at her lifemate. "There you go." She smiles at Cymber, her pretty face lit up as though somebody had filled her up with glows. More meat travels down Didarath's throat.

From the Sands, Shansi picks up her left foot, leaning her arm on Goran's shoulder as she looks critically at her sandle's sole. "I tell the truth." Well, not much tonight, anyway. Ignore that grimace when she taps her foot with her hand, and that stubborn visage will work just fine. "My feet are just fine," she intones. Yep, she has feet of ice. Why wouldn't she?

From the Sands, "Dragonman," Valin says, as he stares at his bloodied foot, "I'm walkin' outta here on my own." Glazed eyes finally lift beyond his injury and his tenders to the Weyrleaders. He is still a Candidate and he'll hear this speech.

From the Sands, Ineban takes a deep breath, focusing his attention on the sand at his feet. He has no response for Goldean, save for a tight nod. No eye contact. Nothing. When he finally looks up to T'rrent, his eyes are red and puffy, but he waits.

From the Sands, Goran shifts his feet again, realizing suddenly that all that is left is empty shell. He squeezes Shansi's hand, smiling. "Well....I guess we didn't impress...but we got one of the best spots in the house t'watch the others do so." He doesn't seem all that concerned about being left standing, except that his feet are burning up; and then his attention turns to T'rrent, nodding to his request. "Aye...."

From the Sands, Vecica follows Jalani in ushering the last pair out.

From the Sands, Vecica heads over to the small niche.
Vecica comes over from the heat of the Sands.

From the Sands, Shaioni glances at T'rrent, only mildly curious about his words. She knows what she wants to do... she merely wants to go do it.

From the Sands, Thalesin murmurs, "Huh?" as he catches T'rrent's words. Fortunately, the sign of his inattention wasn't especially loud. Dark eyes turn to the Weyrleader, then, serious, but not pained. He listens.

From the Sands, Kaera looks over her shoulder at the Weyrleader, giving Valin one last glance before giving him her attention. She still frowns, glancing at the others, very tired, and very hot.

"We'll both be fine, then," says Dakar with more tenderness than any but perhaps one has ever heard emit itself from his lips. He touches Marcath's neck, stroking lightly. "Eat, my friend. Eat, and all will be well."

Conclusive perfection is depicted in every mottled nuance of this divinely crafted brown dragon, his form a complete depiction of the verdancy of a newly born world. Raw earth drifts in darkened crevices across the landscape of his back, broad and deep with the bluish shadows of networking subterranean caves tinged only faintly with the stubbornly clinging fingers of finely dusted emerald lichen. Curving wingbones arch with finely honed precision to support the chaotic imagery of his nearly translucent wingsails, themselves animated to depict the fiery flow of amber-touched lava across the mahogany of virgin soil, rich tresses of curling bubbles that erupt into splattered droplets of illuminated gold. Trickles of these more livid hues creep along the sinuous line of his belly, slowly hardening into duskier hues of obsidian that flicker with mirror-like polish over the warm cinnamon of his heavily muscled hindquarters, a powerful compliment to the chaotic vortex of creation. Thick fronds of burnt sienna billow along his extremities, swirling as if caught on the first breeze of existence to envelop the elegant spade of his tail, the fierce curve of his talons, and the gentle slope of his muzzle in the warmth of a newborn embrace. The crest of the surf clings to his forelimbs, paling the jungle of silvery cedar where waves might lap against a seaward forest, the soft azure dappled with milky brown shadows of a thick canopy's web of overhanging branches.

From the Sands, Goldean just watches silently listening, a shrug toward Ineban before he breathes in too, oh he's fine save a few burns on his feet, and a tummy waiting for klah, just fine.

D'kar says "OOC D'kar, that is."

Vecica follows Jalani in, making her way towards the Weyrlingmaster. Always helpful, Vecica.

From the Sands, Serriena listens quietly. She is disappointed to be sure, but a small smile lifts her lips and she looks determined to be happy for her friends who have impressed.

J'sen sighs softly as the the sands suddenly become quiet. He turns to the group of newly impressed weyrlings and simply shakes his head. "What a group," he grin. "Alright all, I know most of your are sleepy at best, but let's get moving the barracks. That way you can settle your lifemates down in their own couches."

From the Sands, E'stan takes the hand that Meg offers him, but doesn't stop there. His arm moves quickly around her waist, expanding or not, to begin leading her off the Sand. Eyes dart all about them as he watches for an opening to get them through.

Llilian calls Isyrath closer to her.

From the Sands, Ranwen is tired, too. And hot. She even forgets a measure of her disappointment when she realizes how much she would just like..a bath.

Marcath :does eat. Despite his tumble, despite his slight injury, this bronze has found what's important and settles down near his boy. Comradery evident, he rests on his haunches momentarily as food finds its way to his gullet, already learning to pay attention to Iskandith's rider - inherent knowledge for this young fellow.

Didarath chews methodically, peering over Kassandra's shoulder at J'sen for a moment. Ah! More important, food and the task at hand.

Vesta nods at J'sen and rouses a nearly asleep Nimoth, "Comeon love...just a few steps more, and you can sleep. I promise. Yes, sleep."

From the Sands, Megara is rather busy watching after Valin, her brow furrowed. She doesn't resist though, kit clutched in her hands as she is lead off.

Vesta slips into a tunnel beneath the galleries and disappears out of sight.

Cymber tenderly gathers up the beautiful Genevrath, easing her lifemate into just enough awareness that the pair of them can head off toward the barracks that J'sen's mentioned.

Cymber slips into a tunnel beneath the galleries and disappears out of sight.

Kassandra chuckles, and slips the last of the bowl down Didarath's throat. "C'mon, sleepyhead. Let's go."

From the Sands, The Sands or empty? Wow. Someone hit Shansi over the head, eh? She blinks at Goran and then the Weyrleader. Sure, her attention is on him, but she doesn't like it much. She yawns, waving her hand nonchalently, "Ahh well, what a waste of time, huh?" She intones, and then adds with a laugh, "And those shardin clumsy candidates getting in the way!" Right. She didn't mean that in a bad way. Consoling herself, perhaps?

J'nah scoops up the now slumbering Myrdith and stands up, follwoing the Weyrlingmaster.

J'nah slips into a tunnel beneath the galleries and disappears out of sight.

Llilian lifts her head at J'sen's command, sniffling away her tears, before she rises from the ground, gentle hands rousing her lifemate, but then, rather than wake the beauty, she simply picks her up, shifting her into ehr arms and against her chest to carry her.

From the Sands, T'rrent clears his throat, clasping his hands behind his back as he intones the following: "You were all Searched for a reason. You were Searched because the Dragons saw something in you.. They saw potential. Just because you didn't Impress this time, doesn't mean you never will." He pauses before affecting a slight smile. "It took me two tries before Morpheth found me - I speak from experience. All this means is that your lifemate just hasn't been shelled yet." There's another pause. "You are all more than welcome to make your homes at Ista Weyr for as long as you'd like. Take a few days off.. Do whatever. If you'd like to stick around, either speak to myself, Alyssa, or the Headwoman Ismaye."

Vecica escorts one particularly clumsy - and sleepy - weyrling pair into the barracks, helping the tiny girl carry the large blue. Oof.

Z'vind steels himself, and puts a firm hand on Kealath's neck. "Let's go." Undeterred by the spate of rumblings that rise from the earthy throat, he encircles the cupped umber with tightened digits. "Yes. Now." They go.

Vecica slips into a tunnel beneath the galleries and disappears out of sight.

You follow the long curve of the tunnel beneath the galleries to emerge in the weyrling barracks.

Weyrling Barracks - Ista Weyr(#57RAJ$)
Smooth stone walls slope upward to form an almost perfectly domed ceiling, barren of decoration but lively nonetheless. It's a massive cavern, hollowed out with a few smaller protrusions that seem to imply various sections with various uses. The largest of these caverns the one furthest from the entrance must be the sleeping area, where there are nearly a hundred cots tucked beside rush-lined depressions of various sizes, all large enough to play host to a growing dragon. Adjacent to this is a lesser but still impressively large outlet with slate boards and various items with instructing purposes.
Smaller demi-caverns delve into the depths of the mountains, some used for storage and some for instruction and some for multiple purposes. Oil vats with rows of buckets, paddles, cloths, and rags hover about in one of these areas, the ground continually cleaned that little of the slippery substance clings to stone floors. Just beside this is a pile of what appears to be straps-in-the-making, a tangle of leather and buckles thrown over benches and hung from metal hooks in the walls. Despite the ordered chaos of the interior, there is a homespun quality to these barracks - an escape for those who are set here to learn and grow together.
Obvious exits:
Weyrlingmaster's Weyr    Bowl

Kassandra comes in from the long tunnel to the Hatching Sands.

Llilian comes in from the long tunnel to the Hatching Sands.

Didarath comes in from the long tunnel to the Hatching Sands.

J'sen comes in from the long tunnel to the Hatching Sands.

Z'vind appears to be carrying Kealath in -- its a false impression, though, engendered by the lad's whitened knuckles on ember-dark hide. He walks; the dragonet waddles beside, into the cavern and cot filled interior of the barracks. "Here," mutters he, and stops beside the other cand--weyrlings.

Didarath nudges Kassandra lightly, crooning softly as his eyes whirl with slight hunger. He was chewing slowly, this is the correct form, is it not?

D'kar comes in from the long tunnel to the Hatching Sands.

(We go OOC, then back to OOC.  Log truncated momentarily.)

Jalani wanders in from the sands, brushing off goo and meat from her shirt. She shrugs, philosophically. "And so it begins."

Vesta helps Nimoth over towards the bevy of couches. She looks towards J'sen, "Sir, do we just pick a couch?"

J'sen nods as he leads a few more weyrling pairs into the barracks. "Yes, Vesta. Any one you want. And the cot and press next to it is for you, of course."

Cymber shuffles in behind Vesta, the newly awakened Genevrath taking a greater interest in her handsome clutchsibs than in her new surroundings. Even the girl is forced to smile before heading for a likely looking cot in one corner. "Later, love. You need to grow up first."

Jalani casually leans over, just at the right moment to right a clumsy weyrling and his lifemate. "There you go now, just find yourself a couch and try not to damage anything."

Kassandra helps her little blue lifemate, who is fighting sleep valiantly and failing, to a free couch next to Vesta and Nimoth. "There you go, Didarath," she smiles warmly, settling him in the couch.

Vesta smiles happily and quickly picks a largish couch with what she deems to be the thickest rushes...thought it isn't much different from the others...and helps Nimoth into it. Within a few moments, the dragon is dozing, curled up head to tail. Vesta sits on the edge of the couch and strokes him for several moments.

J'nah calls Myrdith closer to him.
J'nah dropped Myrdith.

D'kar walks over, following Cymber by habit, and finds a cot next to hers, where he intones, "Yes..I'm sure I'm fine...think nothing of it."

D'kar dropped Marcath.
Vesta dropped Nimoth.

Alyssa goes home.

Cymber's nods at her first choice, and tests out the rushes atop that couch before bending to help Genevrath climb up atop it. "There'll be time for that later," she reassures in a voice as close to a croon as a human can get. "For now, you must sleep. I know that you're tired." Bemused smile comes at that realization.. and then she blinks and plops right down to sit next to her lifemate.

J'sen waits a bit until everyone seems to be getting settled, then he pulls a stool into the middle of the room and clears his throat. "Alright all," he grins around, "I won't delve into a lecture tonight, but listen up for a few details. Your lifemates are going to wake up hungry. There will be food available in the back." He gestures to several tubs of meat within tubs of ice. "They will probably also itch. They're growing already. The large barrels back there are oil. Use a bucket and a paddle from the bin next to it." He glaces around expectantly. "Any questions?"

Kassandra collapses onto the cot next to Didarath's couch, and smiles fondly down at the blue, who is trying desperately to keep his eyes open. "It's okay, Didarath. Go to sleep." The blue sighs, and gives up the fight as his new partner turns to Vesta. "Isn't he a doll?"

J'nah carries his little blue lifemate over to his cot and sets him down softly. As he lets go, Myrdith lets loose a soft sleepy warble and blinks his eyes a couple of times. he glances sleepily around at the other new borns and looks back to J'nah. "Yes, I'm sure they are all as happy as we are dear friend." Jonah comments as his scritches Myrdith on the head.

Cymber's expression is almost comical as she looks to J'sen and mutely shakes her head. Then back down to green Genevrath, who is slowly sinking into a well-deserved sleep. "This isn't a dream, is it?" That's pitched for D'kar, who is very now to where she sits.

D'kar sits himself down upon the cot, reaching out to stroke MArcath, hand traversing the brilliant, bronze beast. "Yes, brother...sleep now. All will be well when you awake. Our universe is complete, now. No need to worry."

Nimoth shifts in his sleep, letting out a snuffling warble and twitching his tail. Vesta sighs softly, "Aye, that he is." She blinks and then grins, realizing Kassandra was talking about HER dragon. She smiles apologetically, and for the first time, takes real stock of her fellow weyrlings and their lifemates. She nods at J'sen, as well, "Aye, WeyrlingMaster, sir."

Kassandra chuckles idly at Vesta's misunderstanding of her remark, and nods at J'sen. "Yessir," she says, eyes glowing.

D'kar looks up from his thoughts, from his lifemate, a pale smile upon his lips that will not go away this eve. He nods to Cymber, his expression touched with...something extra as he looks at the woman. "Aye," he intones, as MArcath settles himself down, and Dakar looks to the bronze in response to something said by the fellow. "Yes. I'll still be here when you wake up."

Jalani has disconnected.

Z'vind simply nods, made numb and silent as he leads Kealath to a cot. But that doesn't stop a smile playing at his jaw. The boy sits, settling the brown as he does so. "You're tired - we all are," he tells his irrepressible 'mate, "betcha can't get to sleep after talking so much."

Jalani has connected.

Cymber just draws in an incredibly deep breath, and takes some time to clench and unclench her fingers in a visual release of tension. "I can't believe it." Bemused, enchanted.. enthralled still, she casts an adoring glance at her sleeping lifemate.. who's managed to coil herself into an enticing puddle of emerald and aquamarine.. before adding, after a careful look to D'kar. "He's very handsome. And now I can't call you smith anymore." That brings a smile to her lips.

Alyssa comes in beneath the wide archway from the bowl.

J'sen is sitting on a stool more or less in the middle of the room answering questions here and there, otherwise just watching over his new charges that are in varying states of feeding, oiling and sleeping.

Dressed now as befits her station, Alyssa peeks in from the bowl with a pie in one hand and a ribbon twisted about the forefinger on the other. She's had time to clean up AND eat; she works fast. Anyway, half expecting to find them all sleeping or working, she's tentative about the entrance but comes in shortly thereafter with a very fond smile. Aren't they cute!

Jalani sighs, looking at the calm and collected Alyssa and more importantly, that pie. The greenrider again picks off stray bits of shell, hatching goo and meat remains from her shirt. "Weyrwoman, a wonderful hatching."

Cymber's sitting on the couch of the slumbering green that miraculously saw fit to choose her out on the sands. In a comfortable corner are the pair tucked, the girl's surprised, almost shocked, expression slowly shifting into a dazzled acceptance. Tenderly, a slim hand reaches with subtle grace to tuck a tail that's been draped in unconsciously sensual fashion off the couch back into place. Never has a pair been placed together with greater perfection. The eyes which lift to catch the others, including Alyssa, in their focus.. glow.

D'kar chuckles at Cymber's words as--go figure--he is still considering Marcath. "I'll always have a bit of the smith in me, Cymber," he intones, before laying back and adjusting his position so that one hand can rest upon the back of his lifemate, mindful of his tender wing. "I'll need to let father know."

T'rrent comes in beneath the wide archway from the bowl.

Kassandra is two-thirds of the way asleep herself, one hand gently stroking the muzzle of the sleeping blue before her. T'rrent's entrance earns him a wide smile, though, those baby-blue eyes sparkling with an emotion she has never known the meaning of until now. "Hello, Weyrleader," she says, grinning.

Vesta looks up from surveying her fellow Weyrling and smiles at Alyssa, "Hello, Weyrwoman. Thank Trinyth for me?" Her fingers stroke cinammon and klah colored hide and her dark blue eyes are as warm as they can possibly be. Her head snaps up and she stares at D'kar, "Mother. I need to tell mother...oh, wait...she was in the stands..." She blinks.

J'sen glances back over his shoulder at the entrance of the Weyrleaders. "Ah, the proud parents. Sort of," he grins, hopping down off his stool and striding over. "Any words of wisdom?"

Jalani turns her head as T'rrent is mentioned. She says in an exaggerated fashion, hoping the weyrlings might catch on. "Good evening, Weyrleader."

T'rrent strolls on in, grinning from ear to ear, and what's the first thing out of his mouth? "The look on your father's face was priceless, Kassandra..." Wink. "Congratulations to you all!" And he nods to Jalani, tilting her a smile as well.

Chuckling, Alyssa holds the pie away from herself lest she winds up making a mess - which is entirely probable. "Vesta, dear, Trinyth tells me only to thank you all for coming and Impressing her babies properly." Toward D'kar, she adds, "We'll send notes to your families if you wish." And then pauses, raising a brow. "Wisdom? I might. But T'rrent..." Well, let's just say she looks doubtful.

Just as is Marcath--who is dozing peacefully beside his cot, Dakar is absolutely wiped, though he has not yet fallen into the blissful arms of sleep. One hand is upon his lifemate's back, and at the appearance of the weyrleader, Dakar pushes himself to sit up, and then to stand.

Kassandra's eyes widen a bit more, and her grin takes on an edge. So, not even the overwhelming love of her lifemate can dull her wicked pleasure at that. "Oh, really, Weyrleader? You'll have to tell me about it." The weyrwoman's comment is greeted with a slight grin. "And a good evening to you as well, Weyrwoman," she says, still stroking the sleeping muzzle of Didarath.

Vesta hmms softly and responses to Jalani's not so subtle hinting, "G'eve Weyrleader." Then Nimoth shifts again in his sleep, outer eyelids cracking just slightly. She rubs gently at the spot between eyeridges and the dragonet settles again.

Cymber, for once, doesn't have much to say. Hard to get words out from around that permanently-etched smile. She does follow suit, though, and stands in almost the same instant as D'kar, though her hand never once leaves the so-soft hide of the dreaming Genevrath. A nod.. newly tinged with respect and even joy, is aimed toward the pair which handles weyr management.

Jalani chuckles. "They are worse than drunks at this stage. Can't get a focused thought out of any of them."

J'sen laughs and stands back, arms crossed over his chest to view his new brood. "So," he says in an aside to T'rrent, his grin wickedly, "how many marks did you pick up? Or lose, as the case may be."

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