The following is a log of roleplay on Star Stones MOO, logged by Dallaney.
All references to the world and characters of Pern™ based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright© 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.

Galleries

Tier upon tier of polished cromcoal-dark granite rises high, each row-hollowed length offering its own vantage of a view, right down to the wooden railing between Sand and seat. Large, smooth-walled, and carven with innumerable rough-hewn, the traceries of quartz reflect the ambient light; no pillers, no impediments obstruct the line of vision to the Sands beyond, except, perhaps, an erring head when the seats are full. The heat is relentless but more subdued, given relief only by the breeze that creeps in through the dragon's opening high overhead, and the fan of wings from the ledges that jut half-moons high overhead.

Type 'help here' for info on how to view the sands.

Perched somewhere up high, you see FiFi and Sanguine.
You see Cherrydrop here.
Sirralin, R'vian, Bubbly_Pie_Guest, and Vishnei are here.
The following dragons are here: Spectreth
From here you can go:
Sands                            Stairs

Hatching Sands

Black and gold, as striking as those of Igen's colors, intermingle to a glitter of eye-wrenching brilliance, made all the more intense by the undulations of heat that reflect from their expanse. Subtle dunes spread their endless waves about the very immensity of this cavern, as wide in its width as it is high; the inner walls are made of translucent obsidian, thinner at the top so the light beats through in brownish-grey pools, and sets it aglow in sometimes-amber brilliance. Hopes, dreams, fears: all permeate the aura, and are echoed in the hei
ght of the ledges and galleries alike that add reverberation to its span.

You see Mamma Gamma's SunTent, Suspended Time Egg, Only Time Will Tell Egg, Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg, All In Good Time Egg, Let's Do The Time Warp Again Egg, This Thing All Things Devours Egg, Time Waits For No Man Egg, A Watched Pot Egg, and Carpe Diem Egg here.
G'min, Leigha, and Siobhan are here.
The following dragons are here: Sayurith and Eratoth
From here you can go:
Up                    Galleries                 Stands

From Hatching Sands, Sh'lor has arrived.

From Viewing Ledges, X'ver slides down Anamyrth's aqua-rippled side to the ground.

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith swivels her delicately featured head around to rumble at her lifemate in maternal concern as a deep thrum begins to emanate from her throat. Saab waves excitedly to Sh'lor, going to join her weyrmate a ways from the golden one. "Almost time," she notes quietly.

From Hatching Sands, Sanath arrives.

From Hatching Sands, Gamma sways seductively in from Queens' Ledge.

From Viewing Ledges, Rosalth follows the blue-tailed creature to the hatching ledges, keeping close with her full load of passangers. Three Crom holders, one cook, and one Weyrwoman aboard, the queen lands toward the front, fully ready to take her spot right out of the middle.

Taera has arrived.
Taera arrives.

Sirralin settles more comfortably in her seat, her bronze's tail choke-tight around her neck. She studies the sands with more than a trace of eagerness, then startles as Ikki begins to thrum along with the rest of the dragons. "Careful, dear, you're next to my ear," she says softly, but doesn't ask him to stop. Not that Ikki _would_, anyway.

From Hatching Sands, Sh'lor crosses the sands, moving to join his weyrmate as Sanath arrives, settling near Sayurith, and offering a deep bass rumble of affectionate greeting. The bronzerider offers Saab one of the rare smiles he reserves mostly for her, settling beside her.

From Viewing Ledges, Mounted between Rosalth's neckridges, Toria allows the holders to dismount first, then proceeds to unbuckle herself and let herself down. Leaving Tarlin to her own devices, the Weyrwoman wanders to the edge to peer down, nodding a pleasant greeting to the others on the ledge as she makes her way.

From Viewing Ledges, Toria tosses a leg over Rosalth's neck and slides gently to the ground.

From Hatching Sands, Time Waits For No Man Egg rocks slowly, almost seductively, back and forth, back and forth...

Kelyan has arrived.
Kelyan arrives.

Weyrmate arrives, then moves to Gamma's side in a smooth motion. "Quite a good clutch, don't you think?" she comments, watching for the first glimpse of a cracking shell.

X'ver has arrived.

Toria has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Let's Do The Time Warp Again Egg jitters, suppressed energy funnelled into a series of shudders. Must hatch! Must hatch quick!

From Hatching Sands, Only Time Will Tell Egg shifts slightly on the sands, then stills once more. The time will come.

From Hatching Sands, From a hundred throats erupts that age-old song that deepens and vibrates the very bedrock of the Weyr as the dragons welcome the newest of Igen's great beasts.

Toria follows X'ver from the viewing ledges while tucking her gloves into her belt. "Quite a crowd," she murmurs, eyes scanning to see who she might know.

From Hatching Sands, G'min comes in, yawning, having caught a cat nap before Eratoth suddenly made it very clear that their perfection was required on the sands. After sorting through what Eratoth was saying, he dressed in a hurry, and came down. "Rats. Rynna didn't have time to finish." He does make his way towards Gamma though. Giving her and Leigha a smile, before commenting to Siobhan. "Tell Sayurith she has a lovely clutch."

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan beams with pride, radiance suffusing her broad face in inner light as she passes along the Weyrleader's message to her dragon. The gold rumbles, dipping her lovely neck in an acknowledgement before returning her attentions to the mass of eggs before her.

From Hatching Sands, Gamma purses her lips together, the humor in her eyes as she glances haphazardly over at Leigha and stops, crosses her arms, weight on one leg. "Mmmm." Though brief, the glance speaks volumes of Gamma's fondness for this weyrlingmaster. "And I suppose this means more nights alone?" Chin rises as she sweeps her glance across the sands and nods at Saab and Sh'lor, G'min and the others. "I don't suppose you've seen my daughter lately, have you? All bratty 13 turns of her? You know the one. Candidate. Gold Fever. Icky. Looks a lot like Igen's Senior Weyrwoman and its WeyrDragonHealer?"

From Viewing Ledges, Tarlin tosses a leg over Rosalth's neck and slides gently to the ground.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani strolls, hips gently swaying, in from Candidate Barracks.

From Hatching Sands, A Watched Pot Egg teeter-totters slightly in its place. Don't be watching it, now....

From Hatching Sands, Noa walks in from Candidate Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Eyochai skulks in from Candidate Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Nitram walks in from Candidate Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Dallaney walks in from Candidate Barracks.

Taera makes her way down through the benches, offering a warm smile to a journeyman who gesturs her to a seat, removing his rather large healer's i kit from it as she arrives, grey eyes searching the sands even as she seats herself. "My niece is out there, somewhere..."

From Hatching Sands, Saine stumbles in from Candidate Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, May walks in from Candidate Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Solandat lopes coltishly in from Candidate Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Ulerae perambulates amiably in from Candidate Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Aire shuffles in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Hatching Sands, Carpe Diem Egg wants to rock! Wants to roll! It's Time! It's time! Shake shake shake your booty, bebbie! From the splash of eggs upon the sand, one in particular rattles to the surface, sand slipping from it. Sieze the Day!

From Hatching Sands, Aline walks with a sense of half-insecurity, half-courage, in her steps in from Candidate Barracks.

From Hatching Sands, Eratoth rumbles as he settles down, apart from the eggs, but somehow, in the most perfect lighting for his bronzen form. See? Innit he perfect? His rider turns his head. "May? No, I haven't seen her." Then he pauses, grinning as he sees the first of the white clad amble in. "I believe she's there, sister, dear."

From Hatching Sands, May hops out onto the sands and smiles brightly to the leaders present. All decked out in white for the first time she seems rather proud and not at all intimidated by the occasion. She's one of the first out to bow in front of Saab and Sayurith, a beaming smile aimed at her mother before she takes up a place near her most promising gold egg. There /is/ one here you know, or at least May is determined to believe there is. Sayurith just doesn't know, she's a young gold, she could make that mistake, its possible! Or so May is grasping at those straws.

From Hatching Sands, Chalis walks in from Candidate Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, K'mra strides in from Candidate Barracks.

Lauryn skips lightly in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani makes her way in with the first batch of Candidates, Dallaney on her right, Ulerae on her left. She continues to hold hands with them right up until the very last minute, before she dips in a bow of respect to Weyrwoman and Queen, bronzerider and sire.

From Hatching Sands, Nitram practically stumbles onto the sands, clinging tightly to Aire and Ulerae not to fall flat on his face in front of the whole weyr. Eesh. Good start. Since he's already halfway down, the candidate makes a rather clumsy bow out of it, managing to direct it to clutchmomma and daddy before scrambling into place in the circle of white-robes.

From Hatching Sands, Chalis bows deeply to the Queen, her mate and tier riders

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai makes her Dramatic Entrance onto the Sands in full hatching regalia; her robe's only half on, with her elbow stuck in an inconvenient headhole, and a bit too much flesh exposed. She hobbles past the queen -- it could be construed as a bow, but knowing Eyo, that motionp robably isn't -- and plants herself at a nice place at the head of the prospective half-circle. She's enterprising. Now it's a matter of getting her robe straight. She pauses to glare up at the galleries, where she /knows/ that Weaver-boy who made it for her is laughing.

From Hatching Sands, Saine's feet just don't seem to be obeying her commands today. One foot seems to think that it's dancing the tango, while the other definantly has a rumba on its mind. Never-the-less Saine manages to bow without completely making a fool of herself and falling. Meanwhile, her lips are constantly moving, voice a low mutter. She's babbling again.

From Hatching Sands, Hah. Ulerae's made it this far, dragging out after Nitram and Mikani and squeezing their hands as she dips in a semi-graceful bow -- or, at least, as graceful as one can be while sizzling and beading sweat. "Hey, look. They're moving."

Toria slips into a seat next to R'vian, quietly gazing out onto the sands as the candidate begin to flood out. "Lots of Telgar down there," she remarks, her smile bright.

From Hatching Sands, Aire half-skips, half-trips, half-bows -- three halves? why not? - as she makes her way onto the sand, finding it disturbingly yeilding under her feet. Scuttling after Eyochai, she flutters as helpfully as a palace courtesan, trying to help her fellow candidate with her robe in the way of encouragement. "If you just duck your head in and poke it through over there, or pull in your arms and turn it around..."

From Hatching Sands, "Saine!" Aline minces along the end of the pack, following after several candidates and sketching a wobbly bow before Sayurith. "Wait up!" Don't leave her behind?

From Hatching Sands, Sh'lor slides an arm around Siobhan's waist, watching the candidates with ice blue eyes, the slightest hint of a wince crosses his face at Nitram's stumble-bow, before his gaze shifts on to examine other candidates. Behind him, near Sayurith, Sanath's thrumming grows in intensity, adding a deep, strong baseline to the voices of the weyr's dragons.

From Hatching Sands, K'mra comes last, ushering the last of the scraggling candidates onto the sands. "Do your thing," the brownrider commands crisply of the whiny, pimply-faced young boy she practically prods through the entrance before scooting over towards the other riders and offering a faint grin. "Hey." She takes the time to survey the rocking eggs, then, and cheerily calls for Siobhan, "Nice batch Sayurith's got, here."

From Hatching Sands, Noa leads in the line of candidates, unravled, rag-tag, stumbling... perfection. She bends in bow to the largest, goldest of the dragons. The big shiny one. "Here they is... Thanks fer' letting them come, yah." A final glance of pride, and Gardener flees to the outskirts of the sands. "Do good!"

Kelyan sits. Quiescent. He's just here because that obnoxious brownrider made him come.

From Hatching Sands, This Thing All Things Devours Egg shifts one last time, unsettled and unsettling as the myriad of half-formed figures collapse and crumble, shell disintegrating into the sand as time proves fatal. Shards scatter, forgotten as the new, emerging life, Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde Brown Hatchling takes precedence.

From Hatching Sands, Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde Brown Hatchling
From Hatching Sands, Rich chestnut brushes over elegant, fine-boned features, gilding the angular head with the opulent tones of cognac and amber while blackened walnut lurks among the menacing steeples of sharply pointed neckridges and augments the spars of voluminous wings, ebbing away as henna and hazel intermingle upon diaphanous sails. Sienna sweeps up from the rugged chest, settling over rounded shoulders and lavishing the lithe, lean frame with creamy hues that gradually deepen; chocolate drizzles upon haunches before abandoning conformity with a violent spray of ebon that overtakes the whipcord tail. A rhapsody of mahogany and umber binds sleek, sculpted musculature in contrasting cloaks of light and dark, playing along lengthy limbs in dual sheets before ultimately melding at curvaceous sides in an exquisite marbling of completely unique disparity.

From Hatching Sands, The heat of the sands starts to penetrate leather clad tootsies and May begins the almost traditional "ouchie, my feet hurt." dance. She handles it a little better than most though, being used to such occasions as she practically grew up doing this with Gamma on the sands. The excitement begins to get to her though and she hovers over that egg with the yellow in it, as if by pure will power it will hatch a rukbat kissed dragonet. "Come on already... hatch!" impatient little thing that she is. But her egg is not to come first.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai isn't good at accepting help. However, she does this Not Accepting nicely, because Aire's such a good kid. Therefore, she shuffles to the side subtle-like, and continues her struggle over there. "I'm okay..." Her voice wafts from between folds of cloth. "Just don't go anywhere, okay?"

X'ver wanders in from the ledges, drifting along beside Toria as he glances down at the sands. Grabbing the first seat he finds, ex-healer spots a few candidates he knows and offers waves. They may never see them, but it's the thought that counts.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney emerges, frayed robe and all dragging down into a deep bow for queen and sire, riders and their 'mates. She nearly stumbles then, hand loosely linked with Mikani's. Nearly forgets to eye the galleries as the first hatches. "Hrm," is all the comment she can spare.

R'vian was slouching, feet taking up an overly abundant amount of space in front of him; arms cross, eyes watching the candidates stumble about. The body slipping in next to him doesn't get even a glance. The voice, however, does. Snapping into a more suitable and polite position, he looks over at the Weyrwoman, and nods, "Uh, aye, yes. It's a shame to lose good stock, but the dragons pick." Ahem.

From Hatching Sands, Saine starts, and glances behind her, cheeks flushing with colour. "Uh, sorry, my feet seem to be on automatic, and I didn't think, and despite what Master Iylle says I do normally think and it's just --" Um. Yeah. Saine shuts up, and waits up for Aline, a fact which might have /something/ to do with the mad scientist and Saine's oggling tendencies.

From Hatching Sands, May squeaks as the first dragon hatches, not expecting the feelings to be so different when its /her/ that's actually white clad and waiting for a lifemate. But its a /brown/, not a gold. So he is admired but firmly, or as firmly as she thinks possible, detoured from even the possibility of bonding to her mind.

From Viewing Ledges, Innokasth has arrived.
From Viewing Ledges, Innokasth arrives.
From Viewing Ledges, Innokasth emits a draconic yawn as La'en tumbles precariously down her side, bored with the goings-on.
La'en has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai doesn't see the brown. Probably the best thing for her, considering all the gambling she's done on the fact that the first-hatching egg was going to hatch a bronze. Too ugly for anything else, see. She'll undergo cardiac arrest later, when her butt isn't in danger of exposure.

From Hatching Sands, Only a moment passes from the time she speaks of her errant child until she arrives in the form of May, but Gamma doesn't see her at first, her hand set to brow above squinting eyes. She smiles up at the stands, waves to Toria, or whomever would wave back, and it's only /then/ that her arrogant daughter struts in front of her. With a shake of her head, she leans into Leigha and says, "I've told that dear child repeatedly there is no gold in this clutch."

From Hatching Sands, Let's Do The Time Warp Again Egg jitters, and judders, and sways dangerously before tipping into a roll, tumbling over onto its side. Fairly quivering with suppressed energy, someone inside is making a spirited, if uncoordinated effort to break out.

From Hatching Sands, Nitram practically squeaks as the first egg hatching. "It hatched!" Apparently he's the self-announced announcer of all things that happen - it should be obvious to everyone that there's now a dragonet on the sands, shouldn't it? "It's a brown," candidate goes on, quietly this time, and bites his lip.

From Hatching Sands, Aline gapes. Appropriately. "A brown!" Babbling is perfectly fine with the Candidate, tugging on a Saine-arm and chattering slightly. "Lookit him! He's all brown, and so many colors, and he's so big and strong and--" The conversation continues from there.

From Hatching Sands, Aire has a bit of trouble picking out the wet hatchling forms on the Sands, ones like the brown, who're dark and hard to see on same-valued Sands. "What is it, Eyochai?" asks the girl from standing catty-corner to Chick With Robe Issues. Motion attracts her eye - the bouncing egg - and she shivers. Are they /supposed/ to do that?

From Hatching Sands, Noa goes home.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani turns her head first this way and then that way, watching the trembling eggs with wide eyes. When the first dragonet hatches, her hands involuntarily tightening on those of Ulerae and Dallaney. "Ule, Dallan, look at him. Wow." Which just goes to show ya; some people, when faced with the real thing, say the most /obvious/ things.

From Hatching Sands, Leigha rolls her eyes then winks, supporting the lean with one of her own. "Aye," she nods in agreement, though steel gray eyes are sparkling. "But she's just like her mother, methinks - has to find that out for herself."

Toria lifts her hand to return Gamma's wave, knowing full welll there is no way the Igen Weyrwoman will see her response amongst the chaos of the cavern, but she tries, nontheless.

From Hatching Sands, "Imagine that." Ulerae is appropriately admiring, nudging Nitram, and then Mikani in agreement. "It did hatch." And a change of topic mid-mindset: "Hot out here, ain't it?"

From Hatching Sands, Leseela, after her bows to Queen Saurith and the rest, finds herself alone; looking about, she spies Aline. "Mind if I stand with you?"

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan can't take her eyes off of the perfect brown just hatched before he. "Good size to him, isn't there," she comments, as proud of her lifemate as can be.

From Hatching Sands, Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde Brown Hatchling squawks loudly with the indignance of it all -- eggs are not supposed to deposit important beings such as he flat on their faces. But that's just how the brown makes his less-than-perfect entrance, sprawling head-first. Quickly, he picks himself up and shakes himself off as best as he can, turning 'round to investigate the remains of his egg. After poking his muzzle amidst the shards and snorting up plenty of sand, he deduces that there's more important things to be looking at and marches off purposely, heading for the candidates.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat hop-skips, sticking close to Aire, arranging himself near to Eyochai as well. He bows to the dam and sire as best he can, considering he's excited and a bit flustered. And when that egg cracks, well... eyes widen. "Oh, look." Wow. Look. Eyes are wide and surprised. It's much different from this close.

X'ver glances over toward La'en as the greenrider enters, and brightens a bit. "La'en!" Bluerider waves a hand at her, motioning her over to join him. "Look, Dallan and Saine are down there!" Former candi-buddies. Whee.

From Hatching Sands, Chalis reaches up and twists one of her spikes again, staring hard at the rocking eggs

From Hatching Sands, G'min snorts softly in Gamma's direction. "Sometimes I think she's too much like her mother. Won't listen to good sense." He just sort of beams in the weyrwoman's direction

Kaytie has arrived.
Kaytie arrives.

From Hatching Sands, A Watched Pot Egg budges a little bit, but then quickly stops, when it realizes there are people looking at it. It'll hatch when it's good and ready to! And not a moment sooner!

From Hatching Sands, Aire hears snippets of conversation slandering the egg she so admired. The one that didn't try to dress itself up pretty in colors, and was frightful like a proper dragon. "What? What is it?" She hops like a young child, demanding in much the same tone of voice. Sands're hot, though, and the bouncing helps her searing toes.

La'en peers down at the sands. Oh. Look at the nifty little hatchling. "Eh." She sounds so enthused. "Nifty." More enthusiasm, in that one. Greenlet blinks as her name is called, then shuffles towards X'ver. "I saw." Eventually. Riight.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney bobs just a little in the sand, the strap of her new sandals catching painfully in her murmur. "Wonder where /he's/ going to." The boy on her other side gets a shove for backing into her, but resignation comes too, as both shuffle to complete the ragged candidate-line.

From Hatching Sands, Gamma coughs at Leigha's comment, a sort of grunt, really, and quite unladylike. Without looking at the woman, laughter consuming her eyes but evident nowhere else on her harper- trained expression, she reaches imperceptibly behind the brownrider to brush her fingertips against Leigha's, almost entwined. "I think she got her arrogance from her father and uncle, actually." She glances over at G'min. Touche'

From Hatching Sands, Nitram wants to scowl at the hatchling, but it turns out to be a half-scare, half-awed look, mainly in fear of antagonizing momma-queen. "He's fairly good, I guess," is said to no-one in particular - and whoops, did that come out just a little too loud? Ahem. Aire's hand is loosened on, and Ulerae's tightened on. He needs his balance.

From Hatching Sands, Saine nods her head in eager agreement; it almost seems like someone's replaced her neck with a spring. "Yah! It's brown, really brown, although you'd think that it wouldn't think that the egg shards and sand and all that wasn't tastey -- is that what it's doing, no, it isn't, it's moving, I think, isn't it Aline, it's moving isn't it?" Rudely, she lifts a hand and points towards the scientist, before her swinging around to aim towards the Watched Pot. "Look! That egg, moved, too."

From Hatching Sands, Let's Do The Time Warp Again Egg jitters once more, quivering. Gottahatchgottahatch! In fact...

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai manages to get her elbow in the right place, but not before the head hole ends up over her heart for a few lovely seconds. She's scrawny, so maybe no one saw anything, but she's still a bit red-faced when she gets it in the right place, and begins straightening things, tying that secret orange belt, digging her blue-beaded sandals into the sand in an effort to stay sane. And then she looks at eggs'n'dragons. "Oh," she says with some disappointment. "A brown. What egg was it from, Aire? Solandat?"

From Viewing Ledges, Meri twiddles her thumbs, observing the Hatching with clear indifference. She's not really here to watch eggs Hatch and dragons Impress. She's here to see -- "K'mra!"

Peyone has arrived.
Peyone arrives.

From Hatching Sands, Let's Do The Time Warp Again Egg pulses frantically along its purple streaks, throbbing with the likeness of a witch's gleeful cackle; cracks appearing in the spiral wonder famous of the almost painful shell, all of the once maddening opposites begin to melt, running together into a blissful, peaceful neutrality...that is, until Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling tumbles out, sending egg shards spiraling in a whorl of newfound chaos.

From Hatching Sands, Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling
From Hatching Sands, Pastel sky weaves over much of his willowing frame, breezing through clouds of powdered baby blue highlights and ghostly lilac shadows before splashing a warm band of opalescence thickly into the azure expanse of his elongated limbs and melting down to milk-bathed sock paws and spicular claws of polished silvery dove. Above his proudly-arched neck, ticklish lavender teases the gentle twilight headknobs and trickles into an accent of exaggerated eyeridges in refined, eccentric traces; here the elliptical contours of his wedge-shaped head define a permanent countenance of surprise above his blunt-nosed muzzle startled with a contrast of inky sapphire. Gaunt frames stretched to a spiderwebbed sprawl of spiral eruptions of curious violet surging forth from unseen inner thresholds toward powerful mainstay tips, his wings burst from his body down a lengthy backside in a jagged struggle of wild audacity, hushed only by a delicate misting of lucid, translucent cyan.

From Hatching Sands, Aline bobbles her head in echo of Saine, Saine-hand now clenched tightly as her tongue flickers nervously out over parched-ish lips. "I think so, I really do. They're all sorta wobbling, but that one's moving to, and /that/ one--" the Time Warp Egg is noted. "--is really ... it hatched! Hey! Blue!"

From Hatching Sands, "The ugly one!" Aire supplies with a note of triumph, finally finding the dark brown upon glittering sands. "And he's properly ominous," comes another note of approval from her lips, "with fangs and shadows and the whole shebang. Dunno what you all see in the pretty ones." A snort issues; she's back to her original self.

From Hatching Sands, Suspended Time Egg holds a quiet, constant quiver- Caught and held in this moment, for eternity.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat hops from foot to foot. Foot to bare foot, remember. "What is what?" he asks Aire, glancing briefly down at his feet and wincing. Maybe sandals would have been a good idea, hey? "Um, um..." Brows furrow in response to Eyochai's question. "I don't remember. It was kind of dark and splotchy, I think...?" That could describe a lot of them, though. Eyes peer in distracted scrutiny at the next one. "A blue."

From Hatching Sands, G'min just grins back at Gamma. "My dragon is more arrogant than I am." Which isn't saying very much, since Eratoth is /not/ the most humble of dragons.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani follows the brown's movements for a moment before the rocking of one of her favorite eggs draws her attention. After watching it for several minutes, she comes to the conculsion that it isn't going to hatch NOW, and turns her attention to the wildly gyrating egg which shatters and dislcoses.. a blue! And that brown is headed with some serious intent towards the Candidates.

From Hatching Sands, Ulerae doesn't mind her hands being squished. Honestly, she doesn't need them for anything -- except, maybe, doing a lot of things. But the CandiGirl just wiggles her hand slightly, wrinkles her nose, and tips an appreciative nod to the blue. "See him? D'you like him better?"

From Hatching Sands, Leigha doesn't mind the touch, and returns the caress as she grins at G'min. "Really?" she asks, eyes dancing as she recalls her years of association with the bronzerider.

From Hatching Sands, Time Waits For No Man Egg decides that it can wait. Yup. No wild gyrations here.

Tarlin has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Nitram shrugs at Ulerae, assuming he's the one she's talking to. "I don't know. He's blue." No, /really/? Look who's really caught up now. "Blue's fine. I know a bluerider." Gee, and he lives in a Weyr. How strange. But it seems that random comments will help out this candie-lad, so let him ramble.

From Hatching Sands, Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde Brown Hatchling simply can't make up his mind and he doesn't get very far before doubling back. Here! No, there! Indecisive and torn between one way and the other, the brown comes to a complete halt and peers about confusedly, warbling his discontent. The brown takes to pacing since both sides look appropriately interesting, shuffling along and gradually coming closer and closer to the white-robed things. When one gets too near, the dragon reaches out in an attempt to snag a talon on the fabric and snaps nastily; the boy promptly hastens away unscathed and, satisfied, the brown returns to his pacings. There. That'll teach them.

From Hatching Sands, Chalis looks at the new hatchlings, awe apparent on her face

Kaytie saunters in after the first egg has already hatched, and she eyes the brown with suspicion. It's a side-effect of the caution she and her weyrmate's brown show around each other. Slipping into the nearest unoccupied seat - being tall has advantages - she realizes sheepishly that she recognizes exactly one of the candies: Aline, a harper. "Good luck, Aline!" she calls towards the Sands, figuring it'll be luck if the other can hear her.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai knows that egg. She kicks the sand, sends up a spray. "Durn. That one was s'posed to be bronze. Our next precocious weyrleader-lordling. And it would Impress some scrawny guy. Someone I could /kick/." She can't abuse Sh'lor besides verbally, see. "Ah, well. He's interesting." The blue, however, attracts a bit more attention. She's biased, see. "He's cute," she notes. "If he goes to some busty girl, remind me to get her name, okay?"

Toria decides to have some fun tonight and turns to R'vian. "The dragons choose, aye, but we can always try and figure which will pick which. So... how would you like to lay some wagers?" Her tone is playful as she glances back and forth between the sands and the rider beside her.

From Hatching Sands, Lah'i huffs in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Hatching Sands, K'mra somehow managed to hear Meri, even if the Telgari greenrider was way up in the ledges, and after peering about in an attempts to locate the other, Kym spies and throws off a beam and a wave. Then, attention returns to the hatching dragons and the brownrider comments for whoever's around to listen, "I like that brown."

From Hatching Sands, Aire decides to be charitable; the heat must have gone to her brain. "Alright, so that blue's /almost/ kinda sorta maybe pretty. In the way those southern felines are kinda sorta maybe pretty." This is confided to candidates within earshot - she's mostly talking to hear her own voice. Just then, girl spots the robe-snagging job the brown pulls, and muffles an 'eep'. Eyochai's comment is more interesting anyhow; she didn't know the candidate played for the other team...

From Hatching Sands, Saine jumps, twisting in an attempt to glance towards the said blue. "A blue? Where? Where? Oh, there it is, that's the one, isn't it, the one that you were looking at -- oh, I guesss there's no other blues on the sands at the moment, I think, so..." She seems to be bouncing up and down, at the moment, but whether that's from excitement, the heat of the sands, or her feet working independantly is anyone's guess. "Hey! Did you see that, what the brown did to that boy -- yo! Are you okay, there? What's his name again, Aline, and I'd better not get the chore to fix that robe after all this, cause if I do, I'm going to well, talk, to that brown, and..." Voice seems to be working faster than her mind; Saine doesn't actually seem to realise that after this hatching, she's not going to be a candidate, no matter what happens.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat lifts his eyebrows at Aire, giving her a startled and very amused look. "Fangs and claws? You don't sound properly terrified." At her next comment, a nod, "Shimmery, sort of." He sighs, fair quivering with excitement, eyes tracking that brown back and forth. Best to be careful, after all. A glance at Eyochai, and then a grin. "Had it all figured out, I see. Well, who knows, another scrawny guy might Impress bronze." He glances surreptitiously toward Nerkin.

R'vian turns his eyes away from the sands as Toria lives up to her reputation. Throwing his head back and chuckling, he shifts to finger the marks in his belt pouch. "I think I'm up to that bet, Weyrwoman. But please, ladies first. What is your wager?"

From Hatching Sands, Gamma thinks /everyone/ has had "associations" with Bronzerider G'min. Raising one arm, she points to the egg in the center, the one wriggling. "I like that one the best." Fingers entwine behind Leigha's back. "I think it's as impatient as Spec was in the egg."

Eddy has arrived.
Eddy arrives.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney twitches one shoulder. "Could be yours," she teases the kid at her side. And she means the blue, even; the boy is still shrinking back from watching the last close shave with brown. "Shouldn't go near to 'em at all." And what if her fingers clasp just a mite tighter from one hatchee to the next--

From Hatching Sands, K'mra hasn't had associations with bronzerider G'min, thank you, and nor does she plan on it. She's sworn off bronzeriders for life. They're bad for your sanity.

Tarlin finally wanders down into the galleries, daunting the crowds once her eyes have located a prime seat--and everyone thought the best were taken. She flops down between what appears to be an extremely large pair of brownriders and smiles up at their confused looks. "Hi."

From Hatching Sands, Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling tumbles out of his shell with a spray of sand, scrambling madly to right himself, and going down all over again in a tangle of legs, tail, wings, and limbs he didn't even know he had. So much to see! So much to do! First, he'd better get all these appendages sorted out. And as soon as he's done that, he's going to explore. Yes, that's right! There are so many things out there to see. Finally struggling to his feet, he sets off down a small dune, wearing a small cap of eggshell that is settled rakishly to one side. A quick glance back at his dam and sire, and he's off to explore. Perhaps here.... although look at that. And that, and there are those big white things over there...

From Hatching Sands, Lah'i pretends not to have noticed Gamma's comment - but does end up looking slightly guilty.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai plays for both teams. She would never let herself be pinned down to one. Too restrictive. She's all about freedom, no matter how many times she has to be kidnapped to prove that point. "Felines are gorgeous," she protests to Aire. "Especially the Southern ones."

From Hatching Sands, Conflicting thoughts are finally pushed aside as Mad Scientist Jekyll-Hyde Brown Hatchling makes up his mind, once and for all. Unwavering, he heads straight for Aire without sparing glances in other directions; no, his focus is firmly fixated upon the girl with the auburn curls and he refuses to be diverted or sidetracked. When at last the brown halts before the candidate, he sizes her up before crooning authoritatively, determining that he's found the perfect partner for his endless scheming and experiments -- indeed, the perfect partner for life.

From Viewing Ledges, A'ran has arrived.
From Viewing Ledges, A'ran arrives.

From Hatching Sands, "Aire!" Shrill. Ulerae bounces brightly, tanned face split by beam as she tooth-flashes the girl. "Excellent!" Now that Aire's a rider, she can have frilly, lacy underthings.

Toria appears to go into deep concentration mode as she inspects the candidates below. "Well, no gold, so it's pretty up in the air." Picking out a random robed figure below, she guesses, "That one," pointing toward Aire, "On brown." Her eyes twinkle with mischief.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai steps aside. Incoming! "Aire!" she squeaks, startled. Surprised. Trying to sound calm with joy. It's hard, but she's getting better. "What's his name?"

From Hatching Sands, May finds her new yellow egg to fawn over until it hatches, quite a few others having already popped and leaving her with fewer and fewer choices. But, just as she takes up residence an impression is made, "Oh Aire! Congratulations!" she cheers for her fellow candi and the little brown.

A'ran has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Saine could do with some hints from the blue on how to get those legs to work -- at the moment, her legs are crossed. She's in almost constant motion, wiggling, wobbling, wringing her hands, waving wildly at random figures in the galleries who probably don't know her. So much energy, and it's just making her voice work at a hundred miles an hour -- "Aire? Aire? Is that brown, Aire, doing, y'know, is it -- Aline..." It's a whine. "What happened?"

From Hatching Sands, A Watched Pot Egg potters a little bit, then teeters and rocks. And since no one's paying attention, it decides that now is the moment. Hel-LO world!

From Hatching Sands, To and fro rocks A Watched Pot Egg, simmering upon the heat of the surrounding Sands. It hesitates only momentarily before it boils over, shards and goo flying every which way to leave Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling standing in its wake.

From Hatching Sands, Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling
From Hatching Sands, Bluesteel and ice chisel power the gleaming sapphire purity of his intrepid bulk with metallic scintillations of light that shimmer into rime at the very edges of the transparent icicles cresting into neckridges along his back and neck. Crackling upwards to a hoary fan of brow ridges, a frost-splashed window of a mask across crystalline eyes and a broad, strong-jawed head, the tundra ridges sweep downward, too, into a muscular tail glimmering to the spade in a glistening of frozen cobalt. Wings whipped in gunmetal gleamings encase all, their brushed turquoise sails bursting against crystalline spars in an edged floe of lustrous chill that dissolves into the heated steel of undaunted hindquarters.

From Hatching Sands, Aire explains the logic of her bravaura to Solandat: "See, that's because the brown's over /there/ -" And hence harrassing some other sucker. "- and not here. And..." Oops. "Hullo," she mutters inanely, looking down at the dark muzzle in front of her. Eyochai's failure as a guardian is ignored in the light of his eyes. "Aidubaith. /Aidubaith/. Lovely," she admits, with a dark chuckle.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani herself has probably squeezed more than her fair share on the hands of her fellow candidates; in fact, she doesn't even seem to feel her hands at all, so entranced is she with the spectacle on the sand. "Look at that blue! He's wearing his shell like it's a cap!" Eyes track the brown's progress, and when he halts in front of Aire, she jumps up, freeing her hands to clap wildly. "Yay, Aire!"

From Hatching Sands, Nitram clutches hard on Ulerae's hand. /Hard/. "...!" As the brown goes for Aire standing next to him, the candidate simply scoots away from her. "Uh, uh, Aire..." ... Impressed? Smart lad.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat scoots out of the way with a quick, "Aire, hey, he's coming this --" Eyes widen as he realizes that that was the dragonet's goal. Jaw drops, and then clunks suddenly closed; the 'ugly' one, eh? "Aire! Aire! Congratulations!" His grin spreads, suddenly sunlight-like and huge.

Taera steps lightly toward Viewing Ledges.
Taera has arrived.

R'vian turns to look at the sands just as Aire Impresses. Not knowing her, he doesn't pause to offer more than a clap, quickly whipping his head back to Toria. "You saw that coming! I count that not fair." He's only half-serious; unnervingly reminded that he's placing wagers with a Weyrwoman. They have a instinct about these things.

From Hatching Sands, Leigha grins and squeezes Gamma's hand before heading off to collect the first of her new charges. "Aire? Bring Aidubaith over here, out of the way, so that you can get better acquainted with him," she calls, indicating that the new weyrling pair is to join her near the entrance to the bowl.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney's eyes are wide. Very much so. "Look it's that..." she trounces past a few words, pausing on the next. "Aire. Looks like a good match to me." She puts on a quick smile that doesn't quite pass, then settles for a grin instead. "Aidu-something."

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai lets go of joy -- into the garbage can, now -- to glare at the brown. "Why couldn't you have waited a bit longer? Now I look bad." She manages to look properly miffed, hurt, and saddened. It's an effort, I tell ya. "You think we should try and take her back?" she wonders Solandat-wards.

From Hatching Sands, Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling is more graceful coming out of his shell than those before, letting it spill him out to land gracefully on his feet. A quick canine-like shake sends a couple of shell-shards and a bit of egg go flying away from his body, his eyes ablaze with red hunger already as he inspects the crowd of Candidates over there. He already knows where he needs to go. Now, the question remains: to which part?

From Hatching Sands, "Aiiiiiire!" Aline squeaks fitfully, stamping her foot with a bright beam Aire-ways. "You did it! What a lovely name! Did you hear, Saine? Aidubaith. Aidubaith. Isn't that pretty? Do you think all the dragons here will have such pretty names?" Chatter. Chatter.

La'en peers down at the sands. "A brown. She'll be a nifty brownrider." If only because she /is/ a brownrider and the color'll shut Innokasth's whining up for a bit. "Hm." La'en looks wholly enthused by the matters at hand.

From Hatching Sands, Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg wigglybounces. And jigglyshakes. Tingling vibrations blend swirls of rainbow color, the bubbling excitement boiling to the point of absolute escape - almost.

Kaytie hasn't "associations" with any bronzeriders, but, then, her brownrider might object if she had. All thoughts of bronzeriders - or any riders, for that matter - disappear as the first Impression takes place. The once-harper takes a deep breath and lets loose with a well-supported cheer.

From Hatching Sands, Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling sneezes, sending his little eggshell cap flying towards a candidate from Boll, who cops it fair on the noggin. Completely innocent of the fact that he's caused such woe, the little blue tramps forth, leaning forward to peek at a tall miner lad. He doesn't even manage to complete his inspection, though, before he's prancing off, head darting this way and that as he attempts to see everything at once. Perhaps he shouldn't attempt to prance, for he nearly stumbles, recovering just in time. Such a small setback is no problem at all, though, and he continues on his search, narrowing it slightly, as he heads for a pair of girls. He's handling his feet so well, perhaps he should start handing out lessons...

Toria has no instinct whatsoever, she simply saw the look in the hatchling's eye as he spotted his new partnet. She tries again, "Okay, I'll let that one slide. How about another. You pick," she intones.

From Hatching Sands, Gamma peers across the sand at Dallaney and leans toward G'min. "He should move closer to the eggs. I don't think the dragons can see him." Yep, Dallaney. Letting her hand fall to her side as Leigha leaves, she places the other hand over her brow as a visor. "Where is Eos, anyway. Has anyone seen her?"

From Hatching Sands, Ulerae yelps suddenly. "Nitram! Careful!" Broken fingers do no Candidate any sort of good. "Ooo. Another blue. And that one -- is he going--" Stare. Blink. At least she's tracking.

From Hatching Sands, May contemplates kicking the potential goldie egg to get it to hatch quicker, its doing all that wiggling and not a crack has creased its surface! She crosses her arms and grumps, looking around for any other potentials, its /got/ to be here somewhere, /she/ will not be left on the sands! Not May, she cant! She's May! But there are still a lot of eggs left to hatch, so her panic is only beginning to creep in.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat is still watching Aire with a grin -- a big, sloppy, puppy-dog grin, mind you -- so it takes him a moment to register Eyochai's comment. "Take her back? YOu want to try to take her from that brown? I don't." He looks vaguely amused, before heat on the soles of his feet distracts him again. "Ooh, ouch. That one really looks like he knows where he's going." His nod indicates the newly-hatched blue.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan's breath catches as the brown Impresses, and indeed, as impresions begin to happen all over the Sands. "I - it's beautiful," she murmurs, hugging Sh'lor impulsively, her radiant smile bathing him in its' glow.

From Hatching Sands, Lah'i slips up next to K'mra, glancing up toward the galleries every two seconds to check up on a certain little infant who needs protecting from the other brownrider's evil plans.

From Viewing Ledges, Sivadath has arrived.
From Viewing Ledges, Eos, riding straps readily discarded, descends from the lissome length of Sivadath's neck, landing smoothly onto the ground below.
Eos has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Kora walks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Eos treks toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.
From Hatching Sands, Eos treks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Vex wakes up from his nap.

From Hatching Sands, Saine's mouth works around the name. "Adibaith, you said, oh, no, Aiduaith -- that's gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous." One foot is on edge, twisted awkwardly, the other turned at right-angles, so that Saine looks like the merest breath of wind would be enough to make her toople. Head twists back, away from Aire, towards the blue, and her eyes cross. Or at least, that's what it looks like. Maybe it's just meant to be a piercing look? "Hey, Aline --?"

From Hatching Sands, Aidubaith whuffles under Aire's hand as he slinks a soggy wing around her back, claiming her with a faint baring of fangs towards Eyochai. He's all smiles for Aire, however, whatever growly noises he makes at Solandat. Best /respect/ the dragon.

Spectreth disappears suddenly for parts unknown.

X'ver wrinkles his nose a bit at La'en's comment. "Hmm. Yeah. I like the blues." Not that he's biased or anything.

From Hatching Sands, Nitram winces at Ulerae. "Sorry..." He sounds sincere enough, though his eyes and otherwise attention are on the remaining eggs and dragonets. Please/hatch/ so he can off these sands and into a /cold/ bath. Heat. Bad.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai is all too willing to have an Opinion on the blue. "Maybe he does. Silly of him to decide already, though. I bet he's just pretending, so he can scare us all into nightmares of non-impression." She grins toothily. "Won't work, though. I know what he's up to, see." And then; "Yeah, why not? We had her first."

From Hatching Sands, Sh'lor nods what must be approval to Aire and Aidubaith's pairing, arms going around Siobhan as he returns her smile. "Sayurith and Sanath haven't done badly, I think." Stern bronzerider is openly smiling, arms remaining around his weyrmate as he watches more dragonets break shell, and hunt for their lifemates.

From Hatching Sands, Chalis twists harder at her spikes and moves a few steps toward the dragons

From Hatching Sands, Eos steps onto the sands, shielding herself from the reflective glare of Igen's fervent sands as she all but rushes toward Siobhan and Gamma, her fellow goldriders. Without bothering to explain her tardiness, the weyrwoman assumes a stance besides the two and patiently watches the hatching's progression.

From Hatching Sands, Just because K'mra's evil doesn't mean that she has plans of stealing children, really. In between eying the dragons and candidates and watching out for any maulings, the brownrider grins over at Lah'i, saying simply, "Isn't it nice not to be fat anymore?"

From Viewing Ledges, Seraph's form coiled tightly against itself, Sivadath's aqueous rum-gold wings fold against her lissome shape as she dwindles into slumber.

O'no has arrived.
O'no arrives.

La'en tilts a glance towards X'ver, quirking a brow before peering at the brown again. "Greens are very pleasant. Innokasth's happy with anything that's male, really." La'en's happy about that, too. Especially if they happen to Impress to someone cute. Hack. Riight.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat simply shakes his head at Eyochai, grinning. Still grinning. This is a semi-perpetually expression for Solandat, really. "Maybe." A chance glance back at Aire wipes the grin off, if briefly. Respect the dragon, right. Respect the dragon. Especially growly dragons.

From Hatching Sands, Leseela finally drops Aline's hand, to wipe the anxious sweat form her appendages onto the ragged hem of her robe. "Look, the brown Impressed to Aire. Yay, Aire! And Aiu.. Aidu.. yay, Aire!" After a few attempts at pronouncing Aire's lifemates name, she gives up and and just calls out congratualtions to fellow Candidate again, before offering now-dried hand Aline-wards again.

From Hatching Sands, Kora waits quietly a little apart from the nearest white-robed figures to her. She appreciates the heat of the sands coming up from her feet but pushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, the better to see everything going on around her.

From Hatching Sands, Lah'i is too protective to take any chances. Despite her position of non-candidacy, her feet are busy doing the candi-dance. "Indeed. I still have some left over, though, that I need to work off."

From Hatching Sands, Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling sniffs at the sands for a moment, as though there might be moer of a hint there. No, not there. Everything smells like sand to him. Then, another raise of his head, and those eyes lie on several groups of Candidates, singling a few out, before he finally start his approach. Slow and deliberate. He knows where he's going, now.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney wouldn't mind being mistaken for a boy -- bronze would do just fine, but she's occupied with staring and commenting at the moment. The other side now. "Isn't that the egg, one of those you liked?" she hisses at Mikani, chin jerking out at the nearest.

X'ver huffs softly at La'en, giving her a quick glance before returning his gaze to the sands. "Right." The bluerider leans forward slightly to watch both the blues, and the two candidates he knows.

R'vian scans the sands, eyeing the dragonlings and the candidates. He points a finger at Saine, "I bet that one a green. I've seen her, she was one of ours. She's got that special spice they look for." Okay, so he's making that all up--but it sounds confident, and confidence is what makes a good bluff.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai bares her fangs right back at Aidubath. Too bad human teeth don't get that long. If she were a rabbit, now, she could really have an impressive pair, right until the moment where her teeth poked her eyes out. Or something. "I wish they'd hurry up," she says restlessly, nodding at all the eggs that haven't hatched. All of them. "I need to go steal Noa's job once this is done." She has a big agenda, and all. "She's too bossy for it."

La'en settles back in her seat, peering towards the sands and eyeing Dallan and Saine warily. "Hm." Random syllable, right there.

From Hatching Sands, Leigha continues to beckon to Aire and Aidubaith, gesturing for them to come off the Sands and get out of the way of the myriad hatchlings now swarming the white robes. "Aire! This way!" she calls, her stentorian voice quite evident above the bustle on the Sands.

Toria dips her head, "All right. Then if she lands on green, you win. If she gets any other color, I win. If she doesn't impress, we all lose, including the poor girl." Her smile is light. "Deal?"

From Hatching Sands, Aline blinks owlishly, again, chatter dribbling off as she gives Saine a big, blank look. "Yeah, Saine? Whassamatter?"

Tarlin clenches the fabric of her trous in sweaty hands as she watches with avid interest, the multiple scenes unfolding upon the sands. One candidate in particular is carefully watched, Tarlin's hopes going out to her friend. She smiles again up at her companions, their bulk bringing the heat full force to the young cook.

R'vian chuckles and nods, "A mark's the bet. Deal." He proffers his hand for a shake to seal the deal.

From Hatching Sands, K'mra just grins and dimples and tries her best to look innocent. "Yeah. Me too. But I'm getting back to normal, little by little." She pauses, then wagers, "I bet that egg over there'll hatch blue. Bet you a mark."

From Hatching Sands, All In Good Time Egg just shakes. Just a bit, without an ounce of urgency within despite the chaos developing about it.

O'no flutters her eyes, moments before they shut tight...too boring, time to take a nap.

From Hatching Sands, Aire and Aidubaith were just busy anti-socializing, that's all. The pair begins to shuffle-hop-hobble across the sands, angling towards Leigha, and future food.

From Hatching Sands, Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg wiggles at the word 'bet'. Coincidence?

From Hatching Sands, Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling prances along once more, steadfastly refusing to notice the fact that his choice of gait is slowing him down considerably. He knows what he's after, and he's heading for it. Perhaps on the way, though, he'll just stop and peek up at that blond. And that redhead. Maybe when she's finished with the robe, he can play with it. Oooh, that brunette certainly has nice sandals! He pauses to lick the astonished young lady's feet, before merrily making his way onward. If he had only half the attention span of a normal dragonet he'd be there by now, but there are so many distractions, so many things to... oooh. Now -there's- a pair of green eyes like one don't see every day. And underneath them a pair of feet that sure do know how to dance. That way must be the way to head. And he does.

From Hatching Sands, Nest walks in from Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani nods her head, swinging her hands back and forth in excitement a few times before she gets a hold of her emotions and settles back down. But there's still an excited quiver in her voice as she answers Dallaney. "Yeah, that colorful one over there. The Shape egg moved a while ago, and so did the little grey one, but they've been still for a while now. Who do you figure the blues will go to?"

Toria clenches her fingers about his for the shake, then turns to turn her eye on Saine. "Okay, girl... any color but green." Now how is that for a careless attempt to mark the girl's fate?

From Hatching Sands, Leigha grins lopsidedly at Nest, waving her over to where the weyrlings are now congregating. "There you are, Nest," she says conversationally, "Would you please aim those new weyrlings over there towards this area? I'd like to keep the chaos on the Sands down to a minimum." She points towards a blue sniffing someone's feet.

From Hatching Sands, Nest steps on the sands almost tentatively, she nods towards Sayurith and Sanath and smiles at the weyrlings and moves to the edge of the sand, out of the way til she is needed. She grins and nods at Leigha and walks over to her and the weyrlings "This way please." and she leads the way to one side of the sands, to releive the congestion.

From Hatching Sands, "I know better than to make bets on egg colors," states Lah'i quite matter-of-factly. Eyeing the dimple enviously, she starts two work on her own innocent-look. Gotta out-sweeten K'mra, after all.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat swallows, watching the strangely-moving blue. "You're really sure you won't Impress, aren't you?" he says to Eyochai. Shuffle-hop-shuffle-shuffle. Added in an undertone is, "I wish I'd thought to dig up some sandals." Wry smile.

From Hatching Sands, Kora smiles at the newly-hatched dragons, a lively interest in their progresses evident in both shining eyes and alert posture. She constantly turns her head in an effort to see everything, everywhere, as it happens, though every once in a while she has to rub sand specks out of her vision.

From Hatching Sands, Saine tugs back at Aline's hand. "Not'in's th'matter. Whassamattah wit' you? I was just wondering, well, what you though -- of him -- that one? The blue? Well, that one, not that one, the one over there whose licking feet -- but don't feet taste bad, I mean, I read a scroll that said about all these fungi and stuff that grows on feet and they just don't sound, well, tastey to me." Toes wiggle, as if at the thought at being licked. Maybe it's like a foot massage, only slobberily. "And..."

From Hatching Sands, Eos shifts, restlessly from foot to foot much like she had on the day of her own hatching and Sivadath's many clutches since there. "We should really get some better shoes for this," she mentions to herself while taking a quick glance toward Siobhan, then Gamma. A smile, however, evolves around her features as she comments, "So lovely, these hatchlings.."

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan nods to Eos, her eyes glistening. "Aye, that they are," she says in agreement.

From Hatching Sands, Kora grins at the foot-licking and tucks one of her own behind her, scratching an insect bite on the back of her other calf.

From Hatching Sands, Tharian, who has been off in the corner doing what looks like wagering, edges away from the part of any dragon. But his wanderings bring him a bit closer to the Weyrleader's group than he'd like to be, so with a small, jerky extra bow to the gold and brinze parents, he makes his way over to a small knot of his cronies. "Olaf, Jassa, there's two blue dragons out there for you." He cocks his thumb over his back at the hatching dragons.

From Hatching Sands, K'mra rolls her eyes at Lah'i. "Yeah, right. You just don't want to lose, because you know I'm right. I'm always right." The egg is considered again.

From Hatching Sands, Lah'i rolls her eyes, too.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney jostles the girl behind her as she gets in the way of her foot. "Maybe one of the boys," she hazards to the ex-cook, swivelling to gaze at the candidate opposite to them, over the rough ring of eggs. "I think Heida has a shot at one. Told me she liked blue."

Kaytie watches quietly, save for the occasional cheer as something or else happens on the Sands. If a faint humming comes from her direction, let it pass. Half-heard lyrics are forming in her mind, little useless ditties trying to put the chaos from stands and Sands into words.

From Hatching Sands, Aline beams. Blankly. The heat is sapping her mind, honest. Sea-coloured orbs flick -- flickflick -- from side to side, tongue again flickering nervously out over her lips. "What? /Fungus/? That's gross, Saine! I don't know why in Faranth's name a dragon would like to lick fungus." A pause. "Is it like those little stool-like thingies? I learned about them from me mum. Hey, do you think dragons get toe fungus?"

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai shakes her head emphatically, or tries to. She's not good at being emphatic when her hair's loose and slapping her face. "Nononono. I just know where I'm going if I don't." Today; Candidacy. Tomorrow; the world! "Besides; I'm not sure I'm ready for a committment--" Read: trap. "--like a dragon. So it's silly to want something I'm not ready for. Today will tell. And then I'll go one with my life. Or something." She proceeds in half tripping on her feet as she paces half a step to the side. "Ooph."

From Hatching Sands, IT is rather bad, at this point, that the avidly watching G'min finally notices his Weyrmate. Moving to her side with a smile, he places an arm around her waist. "Hello, dear. When did you get here?" Oops

R'vian confuses fate by chanting for the girl to get green. "C'mon, lass. Think green." Maybe it'll work? He's got his thoughts focused and everything... let's just hope this goldrider doesn't have a sixth sense.

From Hatching Sands, Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling has found a woman who understands. Nothing like a good foot massage...

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith still thrums her greeting, but a curious blink of her eyes is sent Aline and Saine-wards and she glances down at her paws for a split second before resuming her vigil.

From Hatching Sands, Eccentric Dr. Who Blue Hatchling gathers himself to an abrupt halt, the wild hunt for the matching senses apparently complete as he waddles up to the object of his search. Leaning forward to extend a blunt-edged muzzle, a delicate whiff is sought of his new life-long project: Saine!

From Hatching Sands, "Go, blue, go. Go, go, go," Ulerae chants softly. "Hey. Look. That blue's over by Saine and Aline. You go, girls!" The last, lifted in a call with a beam. "Saine!"

From Hatching Sands, Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling pauses for a moment in front of a small cluster of Candidates, scanning from one to the other to the first again, as he tries to single one out. And will it all come down to eenie, meaney, miney? Hardly. He's simply working out decisions with himself, before he makes his final choice.

From Hatching Sands, Ralla stifles a giggle behind her hand and dances adriotly out of the way of a very determined hatchling. "Well, I guess not then, " she says to her friend. "That's ok, though. There's plenty others. Right, Kora?"

From Hatching Sands, Lah'i points at Saine. "Ooh, look, she got the blue."

From Hatching Sands, Pale mist disperses as patience flees, now unneeded as the long wait ends and heavy cracks break the idyllic blues and greens of All In Good Time Egg. An explosion, perhaps from a well-aimed kick of the occupant, causes the first of many protrusions to shoot off a good distance away, hitting one of its clutchmates. The warring within divides the shell into many portions which can only choose to flee at the last, shards flying in haste every which way until finally the egg crumbles and leaves Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling alone in the dusty heat.

From Hatching Sands, Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling
From Hatching Sands, Thin threads of dark scarlet filigree the deep emerald of her arrow-shaped head and throat, tracing the veins of ichor contained beneath the smooth hide beneath her graceful neck before brightening abruptly to a glowing red-orange at her broad shoulders. Swallowed by the twisted black-green of her back, scraps and snatches of this living fire dance in the little cracks between and inside the rolling, unconventional braids, erupting in dramatic edges along the contours of her well-muscled frame. On the ivy curtains of her wings they escape again, dripping over the wing spars into brilliant butterfly-patterns on the sails between, striking her perhaps not into beauty, but certainly into an awe-inspiring canvas of raw strength and altruistic vision.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat makes a soft 'mm' sound, and nods, with as much composure as one can manage when ones feet are burning off slowly to the ankle. "That's wise of you, I guess, though I don't think I could be so pragmatic -- " Another Impression fairly nearby catches his attention. "Saine! Hey!"

From Hatching Sands, Aline lost a hand! Squeak. "SaineSaineSaine! Oh, tell me his pretty name, Saine!" Beeeeeeaaaaam. She does remember to release Saine's hand, though.

From Hatching Sands, K'mra watches, then notes sagely, "I would've guessed that. Blue for her. She's crazy, you know, and that blue looks rather crazy, too. Good pick, wouldn't you say?" Then: "Shut up, too. I wanna hear the name."

Tarlin squeaks, leaping to her feet as Saine impresses--and a blue, no less. "Saine! Saine! You 'pressed!" she calls out at the top of her lungs, knowing even then that her friend won't hear her. She looks sheepishly back at the two big brownriders, flashing them another smile as she slowly lowers herself back into her seat. There, she continues to bounce excitedly, muttering under her breath... "A blue.. a blue... Saine got a blue..."

It doesn't take much of a sixth sense when you have the majority chance. Toria mutters low, "Blue, blue, blue, brown. Blue, blue, blue, brown." Her brow perks as the blue narrows in on Saine. Could it? She awaits the announcement.

La'en peers down at the sands. "Hey. Did that one go to Saine?" Pause. "Well. That's good." La'en'd be making comments about how Saine should've been a greenrider and how wonderful and nifty that would've been, but, y'know, it's a person on a male dragon, and that shuts Innokasth up. So she'll be nice. "Did you see, X'ver? She got a blue." Greenlet prods him in the side. "Good for you, Saine!" X'ver should be happy, now.

From Hatching Sands, Gamma sort of siddles away from that pair, shaking her head at G'min before her eyes search out Eos' eyes. She smiles and takes a deep breath, nodding. What a twit her brother is. Laih's yell gets her attention and she glances over just in time to see the Blue impress to Saine. And /Aline/ over there brings a chuckle.

From Hatching Sands, Lah'i nods. "Absolutely. This weyrlinghood should be interesting." The last comment is, however, greeted with a frown. "Don't tell met to shut up."

From Hatching Sands, Nitram scratches his head with his now Aire-free hand, sending the ex-candidate a jealous look. She gets to get off the sands! Well, sorta. No fair. Is it too late to back out of this candidacy-thing? Seems so, since the lad just sighs slightly, shuffling his feet around. Thank Faranth for thick soles - not that they help /that/ much.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai's jaw drops a bit. "Saine. On blue." Who'da thunk? "That makes a scary sort of sense." And then she resumes tripping over herself, landing rear-first on the sand. "Ooph," she repeats, more intensely.

From Hatching Sands, Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg jolts, the Impression of the blue apparently marking a crazed frenzy: break, dratted shell!

From Hatching Sands, Kora claps her hands together in congratulations for Saine. She nods absently to Ralla. "I suppose so. . . " She watches everything carefully, wanting to avoid mid-sand collisions with dragons, hatchlings, riders and Candidates. "Crowded. . . " she murmurs.

X'ver claps his hands together once at Saine's Impression. "Saine! And a blue!" La'en gets a beam and a nod. "Yeah! I saw!" Prod is ignored except for a crooked look at the greenrider before he turns back to the sands. Now, if Dallan would just Impress a blue, life would be great.

From Hatching Sands, Aire cheers from her corner, echoed by Aidubaith's smooth crooning: "Saine! Congratulations!"

From Hatching Sands, Sayurith holds her head just so as she watches the blue Impress. Crooning in approval over his choice, she turns her head gently and greets the newest green with motherly gaze.

From Hatching Sands, Saine's toes stop wiggling. Mayhap it's at the thought that they might have stool like things on them has horrified them into a dead halt. Or maybe it's just the fact that Saine's wobbling and looking at the blue, and grinning and ... for once... silent. C'mon. She stops talking just when people want to hear a name. "Llywith!" At last. "Food? Food? Oh. Food. Things you eat, I'll feed you, don't worry, there's got to be food somewhere around here, what do you want, I wonder if they've got any bubblies, you'd like that..."

From Hatching Sands, Solandat reaches out to offer Eyochai a hand up. "Sense? Maybe. Yeah. I guess it would, the dragons know, right?" He looks rather skeptically back at the eggs and hatchlings. Respect, right? So Aidubaith won't growl at him again. Skeery, that. "You okay?" Since you keep falling over, of course.

R'vian throws up his hands as the girl confirms what his common sense had been telling him. "Shardit to Rukbat and back!" Defeated, Riv slumps a bit, casting a sardonic grin to the Weyrwoman.

From Hatching Sands, May another impression for a friend and May cheers for Saine, "Oh he's lovely! Congrats!" she smiles at the baby blue a moment, not what she wants so they're all welcome to what ever color they get, as long as its not the nonexistent gold, May will be happy for them.

From Hatching Sands, K'mra calmly, politely informs Lah'i, "I'll tell you to shut up if I want to. I think..." Any other distinctly not-nice things to say are cut off as she hears the name, concentrating upon the blue and Saine in an attempt to hear the new dragon's name. "Llywith. I like that, you know."

La'en thinks Dallan should be on... brown. "I'll bet you a quarter-mark Dallan gets brown, X'ver." Because she thinks she's smart and she could use the materials for a new set of straps. ".. or a halfmark. A quartermark for Dallan Impressing, and another quartermark on .. brown." Take the bet. Make La'en... more rich. Hack. Right. Bet on your friends, La'en, make them feel the love.

From Hatching Sands, Nest waits to hear Saine announce the dragon's name, hesitating in her spot before slowly crossing the sands, avoiding unhatched eggs and nervous candidates and she smiles "Congratulations Saine, would you and Llywith like to come over here with the other hatchlings?" She smiles at the blue and points in the direction where the other weyrlings wait and she walks back in that direction, expecting the new pairing to follow.

From Hatching Sands, Carpe Diem Egg is ready! Now. Now. Now. Shaking unceasingly, it falls off the top and rolls to the bottom of the mound, crashing into another egg down there that immediately hatches. But not a crack on /its/ shell. No fair!

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai doesn't use Solandat's hand to get herself vertical again, although she mutters a vague thanks. "Dragons know," she repeats. Her mantra. "I'm fine," she adds more hastily. "Perfectly fine. My shoes're just too small." Another small glare for the galleries. Jashan again. She might have to find a new boytoy.

From Hatching Sands, Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling emerges with every ounce of drama possible; shards take to the air in scattered pieces as the twisted black-green of her back arches backward and her wings vault radically into the air as she takes a slow, tedious moment to survey her surroundings.

From Hatching Sands, Nobly, Intrepid Clark Savage Blue Hatchling makes his way toward the group of Candidates, seeking the one that would join his adventure. Finally he halts, and an eerie trilling note floats through the air above the din, filling the sands with an undescribable tone. The trilling stops, eyes fading from red to blue, as Chalis is claimed for his very own.

From Hatching Sands, Ralla burbles happily from her position just behind Kora. Her petite body is almost hidden, though that white-blonde head of curls bobs in an attention-getting way. She points the green out. "Wow! Look at that one! She's neat!"

From Hatching Sands, Aline bounces in place, hand-less and all by her lonesome in a bubbly sort of way. "Imagine that! Llywith! That's so pretty, Sai--Chalis! You too! Bluemates!"

From Hatching Sands, Lah'i snorts and mumbles, but doesn't protest. She's too busy to protest. "Me too!"

From Hatching Sands, Mikani stumbles a bit as she shifts her feet, the heat now beginning to penetrate the thick soles of the sandals she's wearing. "Wish I could have worn my boots... even without socks, they would have protected my feet a /bit/ better." Eyes are drawn to the side, watching intently, then "Saine! Llywith! Congratulations!" She giggles a bit, then her eyes swivel to catch the newest hatchling. "Ooooo, lookit that green make a scene!"

From Hatching Sands, Saine obediently follows, feet for once behaving. Perhaps the dancing lessons have already started. "Thank you, I'm coming, there's food, right?" And socks?

X'ver turns toward La'en with a slight frown. "I dunno. I'm not very good at guessing Impressions." Or very good at any sort of betting, actually. "But alright. I'll bet you Dallan Impresses blue." Just because everyone should Impress blue. Especially X'ver's ex-candidate-buddies.

Toria grins at R'vian. "Okay. I'll give you odds. I will pick the color green, you pick the candidate, and it will be my bet. If that candidate impresses green, I win. If not, then you win. Okay?" Can't completely douse the poor man's betting ego.

From Hatching Sands, Chalis kneels down and thtows her arms around the dragon before her "His name is Olexath!

La'en eventually notices a green. It took her long enough. "Oh! X'ver, it's a green! It's a green!" Spastic, creepy beam. "...no. She'll Impress /brown./ Or maybe green. Green /is/ the best color." So La'en says. "Oh! That girl Impressed." A finger points at Chalis. "I met her, once." Maybe she's... good luck. Riight.

From Hatching Sands, Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg vaults. That's in. Incoming!

From Hatching Sands, Ulerae tugs on Nitram and Mikani's hands, brow twisting in appreciation of the heat. "Goodness, it's /so/ hot out here. Even in these flimsy little robes. And /look/ at that charming green."

From Hatching Sands, Time Flies When You're Having Fun Egg simply can't wait any more: the party is going on without it. Not an ounce of hesitation in position, it simply cracks and splits, spilling Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling into the midst of it all.

From Hatching Sands, Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling
From Hatching Sands, Dawn's pale glow bathes his graceful back ridge in new-penny brilliance, copper balanced by the pure symmetry of his physique, marked with the elegance of noble perfection. Sublime limbs anointed in the purest bronze, he glows molten metal to the last guilded talon, poured into the daybreak that deepens into the shadows of his undercarriage and splatters a glistening patina just a venture beyond the austere lustre of his long neck and brow; here the glaze treks across his crown and headknobs, peaking just between sharp, intelligent eyes. The horizon of his cresting brilliance fades only along knife-edged black wingspars barely able to contain the brightening of rich flames that fire their adventurous sails, perpetually hoisted above the dimness below with glistening, impeccable espirt de corps.

From Hatching Sands, Leigha waves to Chalis, a smile tugging at her Threadscore. "This way, Chalis, Olexath! What a lovely name, Chalis," she calls loudly, waving the weyrlings to their spot near the entrance.

From Hatching Sands, May jumps as the egg she's been pestering to hatch finally cracks in a loud way, but only a crack and a bit of a wiggle. Her heart begins to pound, oh the anticipation!! She bounces on her toes and tries so hard to resist the urge to kick the fardling thing, "Come on, come on!" hands clench in front of her as bright gray eyes dance with hope. But its not to hatch yet and after a few moments of vigorous movement, it stops and sits still once more. And May grumps, "Come on!" her voice a whine. Distraction is her salvation (or the eggs?) once more, cheers for Chalis directing her gaze to the new rider and her blue, "Go Chalis! Congratulations!" a smile once more, brief respite from the battle with the egg.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat bounces on his toes, half-excited and half-burned. "That's why I don't have sandals, they were all too small... big feet..." He trails off, peering around him, and his mouth opens again, slightly. "The other blue's Impressed. Chalis!" He draws in a sharp breath, "Oh, and look. A bronze."

From Hatching Sands, "Another pretty name! Olexath!" Aline is appropriately excited, waving hands bird-like in the air. "It's way too hot out here, don't you ... hrm." The Candi is all alone. Poor little chatterbox.

From Hatching Sands, Nest turns around to see another pairing and she smiles as another hatches, so many to keep a track of and she smiles as Leigha bids them welcome and she waits where she is, with the other weyrlings milling around and she stands her ground quite easily, thick soles on her boots keeping her feet from being burnt by the sands.

From Hatching Sands, Nitram nods distractedly ar Ulerae. Hot? Well, did it take her so long to figure that out?? Unable to think of anything else than a cool drink - well, and maybe the dragons out there - the lad shuffles his feet some more, an annoyed grimace settling onto his face. "Isn't it over soon," he half-whimpers to Ulerae, tugging at her hand as if she holds the power to end the Hatching.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai heys at that green, and her entrance. "You're stealing my stage." No doubt every eye is on Beryl, now, and not on poor Eyo who keeps falling down. She makes a hasty decision, and bends down -- rump elegantly in the air, robe just barely covering it -- and begins fiddling with sandal straps. Off with her shoes!

From Hatching Sands, Chalis stands and begins to walk toward Leigha with her new lifemate

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney examines the babbling throng. Her feet aren't hot, not at all. Not even when she lifts a sandal up like that and shakes it to throw off the heat's sting. Thus when her eyes roll back to the eggs, speechlessness comes first. "Cha-lis," she mouths at Mik. "And there's a bronze." State the obvious, right.

From Hatching Sands, "Chalis!" cheers Aire again, Aidubaith flapping his wings in approval. Of course, he's more intent on eyeing the green for his own nefarious purposes. Aire is happily clueless, half an eye kept on the hatchings and the other half on Eyochai and company, who she hath betrayed in the name of Aidubaith.

R'vian's ego is pretty much flamed, already. Licking his lips a bit and rubbing his hands, he glances at a few candidates. Pointing to an unknown face, he singles out Nitram. "Green." Please? Greens make up most of a clutch, right? The odds have to be good...

From Hatching Sands, Kora allows her mouth to form an 'o' as she sees the bronze burst from his shell. She blinks hard once or twice, to get the grit out of her eyes, and looks around curiously to see who he'll pick. She moves from her spot, a little, just enough to give a rest to her knees and to prevent her toes from cramping. Hazel eyes sweep the sands, and the galleries too, looking for something. . . or someone. . .

From Hatching Sands, Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling steps over a discarded shell, perhaps her or possibly not, and seemingly floats upon the sands like a wandering wildfire, intent upon surveying each and every single one of the candidates in her path where nothing escapes her scrutinizing assessment as her ivy wings are brusquely flushed against her well-muscled chest.

Tarlin's wriggling begins to annoy one of her seatmates. He looks down at her with a glare and then moves over a couple of inches. The cook ducks apologetically and tries to quiet her fidgeting excitement.

Toria eyes Nitram, her lips curling in thought. Finally she begrudgingly agrees, "All right, that one, whoever he is." Growing far too serious about this betting, the Weyrwoman clenches her teeth and bores holes in the air between her and the poor unsuspecting candidate as she mutters, "Green. Green. Green."

From Hatching Sands, Kora arches one eybrow up as she gives the green a careful once-over. Then she grins, looking over at Ralla. "If you want her, Ralla, you can have her!

"Go, little green!" La'en's so nice, getting spastic about a green she'll probably never see except for right now. "Go Impress... her." Aline is pointed at with an imperious finger. Random-face-picking time; since the greenrider only knows a couple of Candidates, random faces're what she'll be picking. Oops.

From Hatching Sands, Nitram suddenly yawns; a hand springing to his mouth to cover it - and that's the fastest he's moved since teh dragons started humming. Not this this is /boring/, mind you, but he was going to take a nap when he was ruthlessly interrupted by these silly eggs.

From Hatching Sands, Ralla laughs whole-heartedly. "That's very kind of you, Kora!" She giggles. "Everybody knows that the dragons do the picking!" But her gaze lingers wistfully.

From Hatching Sands, Kora tosses her hair out of her eyes. . . again. "I know, I know. Just teasing!"

From Hatching Sands, "There she goes," Aline chants behind a pack of boy-Candidates, shifting to the side to get a better view. "And goes and goes and goes. Look how muscled she is. Strong-one." Sidle-sidle.

From Hatching Sands, The egg May was so carefully guarding suddenly cracks all over and then crumbles to the floor, leaving a creeling bronze almost right at her feet. She squeeks at the sudden emergence and for a second thinks he is a gold! With a squeal of joy she kneels down, but he is quick to correct her, snorting and trotting off to eye some males. May blinks, then pouts, standing and brushing off her robe with a grumbling look at the offensive bronze boy. He had the nerve not to be gold!! She flips her nose into the air and doesn't even bother to look to see who he impresses to, she's got a gold egg to find.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat watches Eyochai doff her sandals with a sympathetic wince, but doesn't say anything, preferring to keep an eye out for dragons. The green is moving with surprising firey intensity, and he has no will to get in that one's way. "Strong," he says, perhaps unconsciously echoing Aline.

R'vian pauses a moment. Wait. What kind of odds are on this bet? Was /he/ supposed to root for green for the boy, or was he to pick... fardles! A moment of panic brings a moment of understanding. But rather than let on to his mental mishap, Riv wholeheartedly hopes with his entire being for any color but gr--no, can't think gr--ah! Don't think of it, Riv, don't envision gr--Faranth, help!

"She's gotta Impress /someone/, La'en," X'ver points out helpfully to the greenrider. "So you can calm down." There's nothing to be excited about, except all the little blue dragons. "And I say Dallan'll Impress blue," X'ver repeats.

From Hatching Sands, Suspended Time Egg's quivering reaches a climax, rocking so fast that the edges blur. An intense *crack* streaks down the side, and holds for half a lifetime. It seems impossible that the shell can even stay together in such a shambled state. Hold your breath.

La'en waves a hand. "She'll Impress brown." So shut up or she'll kick you in the shin, or something equally unpleasant. "/Brown./"

From Hatching Sands, Kora keeps a careful eye on the green, ready to dodge if necessary.

"Hah-hah." Kelyan smirks slightly. The girl on the sands -- egg-oggler -- is laughed at. Because he Can.

Blissot has arrived.
Blissot arrives.

From Hatching Sands, Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling finishes cruising the outermost portion of the sands, seemingly intent to review each of the candidates before a sudden movement distracts her. Drawn to the apparent weariness of a particular candidate, she roams across the sands, nearly tripping in the process before reaching an awkward lad much taller than herself. Curiosity overwhelms her for a moment as she looks up to him. Bored already?

From Hatching Sands, Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling is knocked head over tail, landing with a little bronze nose in the hot sands. Ow! Without stopping to regain composure, he lifts himself back up to his feet and sets off to claim his long-awaited prize, sticking a sand-covered nose into every possible avenue along the way. Ooh, this one looks nice. What's that, over there! Ooh! A redhead! Drat, she's female.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai hasn't doffed her sandals yet. They're stuck on her feet, and hse's having just about as much trouble with them as she had earlier with her robe. "Off fiend!" she mutters, rump swaying nicely as she tugs on a strap. And then a call goes up to Solandat; "Sorry, forgot; can you keep guard while I'm busy? This might take a while."

From Hatching Sands, Sh'lor lifts the arm not wrapped around Siobhan, pointing silently to Saine's impression. Now there's a good reason to run if someone offers you the weyrlingmaster's knot. "Looks like a good match," is is his only comment, voice raised loud enough for weyrleader and other weyrwomen in the immediate vicinity to hear. Nearby, Sanath rumbles a deep welcome to the newest of the clutch's arrivals, twisting his head to examine May's bronze.

Toria pauses in her mind-boring to glance over toward the Telgar cook. Smiling, she calls out, "Tarlin? Come sit with us?" indicating the seat next to her, which happens to be next to the struggling R'vian.

From Hatching Sands, Kora sighs with relief and wrinkles her toes. "Are you as hot as I am?"

From Hatching Sands, Eos looks upward towards her own lifemate, the young queen patiently settled upon the viewing ledges with the remainder of the weyr's dragons. Smiling to herself, she manages to drawn her gaze away from her lifemate for a mere moment to catch a glimpse of the newly hatch and those anxious to impress.

From Hatching Sands, Barrier broken, Suspended Time Egg splits open, solid pieces of shell, each swirling with their own multitude of color, falling soundlessly to the warm sands. Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling emerges, aplomb, determined eyes whirling. Arrival! Freedom!

From Hatching Sands, Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling
From Hatching Sands, Shades of fresh spring grass paint the creases of her glazed chartreuse and dark olive hide, seep into expansive mainsails tinted a deep seagreen, and bound by light aquamarine veins and sparbones of blending blue. Though gentle edges smooth her head, sharp neckridges crested with ochre harshen her brilliant neck, twined with stiplings of red and gold, until it curves gracefully into a chest of assertive tropical green. Long, but agile, she bursts with energy and youthful hindquarters, balanced only by a spiraling jungle tail spiced with royal blue to its dark, trident tip.

From Hatching Sands, Ralla nods vigorously. "Oh yeah. But it'll all be worth it, you know."

From Hatching Sands, Ulerae nudges Nitram. "Um. Nitram. See? She's right there. Is she looking at you?" Blinkblink.

From Hatching Sands, Nest smiles as she watches the pairings, keeping an eye out for browns, though her smile shows that nothing can compare with the brown of her own pairing. She smiles at the hungry pairings "Not too much longer yet. How are you Saine?"

Tarlin looks up at her burly companions and then smiles gratefully to the goldrider. Hopping to her feet, she pushes her way through the crowd to flop herself into the indicated seat. "Thanks, Toria. Didja see Saine Impress? She gotta blue!" She looks to R'vian for the approval that most adults give at such affirmations of the truth and frowns when she notes his preoccupation. "What's the matter with him?"

La'en woos. "Another green!" Somewhere, Innokasth hums with spastic joy. Everyone should ride green. Except the people that don't. Right. "See, X'ver? Another green. And that other green looks like she knows what she wants." Yay.

From Hatching Sands, Gamma claps at the newest choice on the sands. "I /knew/ that boy would impress green." She turns to see that no one is near her but the couple of the year over there. From the corner of her eye she catches May and facepalms. That child did /not/ come from her loins, did she?

From Hatching Sands, Nitram edges closer to Ulerae. "No. She's looking at you." She has to be. Eek!

X'ver, in an attempt to get back on La'en's good side, points to the newest green. "Look La'en, another green." He pauses, frowing as he realizes the greenrider beat him to the comment. "Yes. I see."

From Hatching Sands, Intent Chrysoberyl Green Hatchling hesitates in her scrutiny of the candidates, and then quite abruptly loses all calm composure as her decision is made. In a sudden burst of speed without a care for other candidates or hatchlings which could be in her path, she rushes to the feet of Nitram and eagerly shoves her muzzle up at him, wings awkwardly in a plaintive gesture as her mouth opens. After breathing heavily a moment in his face, her tongue flicks out to lick his cheek. Apparently agreeing with his taste, this one is most definitely hers.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan grins at the sudden emergence of a lovely grassy green. "Sayurith, lovely really, just look at her!" The queen croons lovingly at her lifemate, then at the little green just emerging from her shell.

From Hatching Sands, "No she doesn't," Ulerae says with a half-smirk, yanking her hand away to clap with hand-against-thigh. "Told you! Good job!"

From Hatching Sands, Solandat was about to offer his help to Eyochai, but her suggestion is much better, and he nods. "Aye, I will. Be ready to get up if I tell you." Since she's busy with the sandal, he takes it upon himself to make a running commentary for her benefit; how considerate. "A green just hatched, really pretty. All different shades, and sort of... long and... slender." He gasps sharply, and adds, "Oh! And Nitram just Impressed. To the other green. Hey, congratulations, Nitram!"

From Hatching Sands, Kora cheers for Nitram, pleased at the dragon's choice.

From Hatching Sands, "Greeeeeen!" Aline once again does a little dance. Aimlessly, the Candidate wanders again, finally stopping behind a thinner group of Candidates. "Oh! Oh! Nitram! Lookit you! What's her name, her prettypretty name, her prettyprettyprettypretty...." Et cetera.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani is preternaturally awake.. that nap did wonders for her. "Ooooo, Chalis, congratulations!" she calls. For some reason, her gaze goes out across the expanse of the sands, to fasten to the galleries. She scans the crowd, but there's just too many people up there for her to recognize anyone form her family, and she successfully fights the urge to wave anyways and call out 'Hi, Mom!' , instead turning and catching Nitram's Impression to that green. "Ooo, congrats, Nitram!"

R'vian doesn't realize he's sort of clutching and smoothing at his hair, or muttering things that rhyme with 'brown' 'bronze' and 'blue'. Bronze is really hard, so he's repeating 'new' and 'few'. No, not 'few' and 'blue'. Wait, "What? Oh, sure, yes, nothing. What's a word like 'more', but rhymes with 'blue'?"

From Hatching Sands, Aidubaith purrowrs triumphantly as the green Impresses, though - much to Aire's horror - it would be to Nitram. "Oh, right. Congratulations!" she calls, though somewhat sullenly; she's not looking forward to spending too much time with him.

From Hatching Sands, Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling takes her first gulp of air, lives her first second of life. And what a thrill it is. The shell is all but dust beneath her talons. Quite a foundation to begin on. She tilts her head back, and opens her jaw- A moment of pause, and then sound erupts. Allo.

From Hatching Sands, Nitram abruptly takes a step backwards as the green /licks/ him. Ew! Girls are so icky! "Whaat? What did you say?" Accusing eyes are cast on Ulerae, until he realizes... it's not her speaking. It's the dragon. Uh. "Ja... Jaath?!" His knees shaking, the lad moves to tentatively touch the green dragonet. "Jaath..."

La'en peers down at Nitram. "He got a green?" La'en takes a moment to look saddened. "Aw. Well. He must be... a very good person." Nevermind he's male. "Congratulations, person!" And all that sort of thing.

From Hatching Sands, May taps her foot as she waits for the supposed gold egg to hatch, grumbling and glaring at it. Its got to be a gold, its certainly stubborn enough! She's beginning to tire of this game, and as her feet cook and her patience wanes her temper flares like the flames of her hair... which is now frizzy and slightly sweaty from the humidly suppressing heat of the caverns. No, she's not looking her best. But a little brightness creeps in as she spots Nitram being nabbed by a quiet green, "Congrats Nitram!" she smiles for a moment and then looks back to her egg to glare, "Seeeee? That's what your /supposed/ to do."

Toria tugs at a pocket as she intones, "Empty Pocket Syndrome," explaining R'vian's malody to Tarlin. As the rukus goes up, she turns about to see who impressed. Nitram? Green? The Weyrwoman just gawks at the newly impressed pair, then gawks at R'vian. She'll have to dock his wages at this rate.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney eyes the bronze, hazels blinking wistfully, head turning to track his fall and the investigation that follows. Hence the slight startle when the green breaks shell and Mikani names the new lifemates. "Ooh, him," she says, springing into jerky motion again. Ouch. Hot.

From Hatching Sands, Nest stalks out onto the sands again and hearing everyone congratulate Nitram she is able to put name to face "Congratulations Nitram, and welcome Jaath." She smiles at the green and Nitram's acceptance of her and she smiles "You think your feet hold you up to walk to the side." She gestures to the side nearest the exit "Come Nitram, meet your other fellow weyrlings."

From Hatching Sands, Llywith is too busy paying attention to Saine's feet to actually make his pleasuer over the impression known, but Saine manages a cheer-eep before trying to answer Nest's question... without noticing that the weyrlingherder has left.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai manages to get the first one unbuckled, and she kicks that blue-bead sandal out behind her. Hopefully, it won't hit anyone in the galleries. She's got a good strong kick on her. The commentary on the green is turned aside as she momentarily looks up to eye Nitram's green. "Oh, good. She's gone." More attention for Eyo now. She resumes rump-waggling, to work on her left sandal, while the right scorches merrily.

From Hatching Sands, "Excellent!" Ulerae crows, tugging gleefully on Mikani's hand. "Jaath. N'ram?"

Surupa has arrived.
Surupa arrives.

From Hatching Sands, Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling has, by now, journeyed all the way around the grounds, weaving his way through candidates as each is sniffed and considered with the utmost of care. After a few minutes, composure is found: elegance is recovered - but he shall never stop venturing, his curiosity taking him to the oddest places. Ooh; but here is something interesting! Lifting his head, he trots over to Eyochai, dodging flying sandals.

R'vian has only one shred of dignity left, and he's holding tightly to that one to keep from crawling under a bench. Mentally slapping himself aright, he makes a deal with the Weyrwoman: "Alright... I'll lay the odds. We put the score back to even, if a bronze attaches hisself to..." He musters up all the hope on Pern, and points to the sands, "That lad." Solandat, if he knew the name.

Tarlin looks down at R'vian's pockets and then out at the sands, confusion registering upon her features. Finally she shrugs, accepting it as an inevitability that she won't understand. "Okay," she announces and then turns her attention back to the sands. Being among familiar folk seems to have taken the edge off of her excitement at Saine's Impression. "You bettin'?" she wonders sidewise at the two riders.

From Hatching Sands, Kora shuffles her feet around in the sand. What was warm and comforting when she got here is now annoyingly hot and almost painful as her leather soles are getting baked. Before she realizes it, her long spider-like legs have carried her right to a small knot of three or four other Candidates, a Miner, a Harper, and two Holders, all of whom she knows well.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat is briefly distracted as the sandal makes a neat parabola out... somewhere. "Uh. Yeah, she's gone." Blinkblink. She does make up her mind quickly, doesn't she? "Um. There's a bronze coming your way, watch it." Solandat moves a fraction back, but not too much; poor Eyochai has to get out of the way, and she's... occupied. With her foot.

From Hatching Sands, Aire wobbles on tiptoe as she tries to catch a glimpse of who's Impressing what, now. Aidubaith obliges nicely, putting his muzzle under her boney butt to boost her up. "No... not the green, yet. -- How am /I/..." Disjointed conversation continues, a meld of mental and aural media.

Blissot trudges up the tiers, a smaller variety of weyrbrat balanced against the wide girth of one hip. Huff, huff. It's hard enough hauling her /own/ booty around, let alone toting a plump kidlet with her. The toddler in question is relatively well behaved (gasp), and seems content to chew on Bliss's hair while they strain for a good view of the sands.

Toria nods to Tarlin, whispering low as she leans in to say, "And he's losing," trying to allow the rider whatever dignity he has left. As the deal is offered, the Weyrwoman leans back and nods, not even looking out on the sands. "All right, if that person impresses bronze, you win the whole pot." If not, Toria owns R'vian. He'd go nice on her mantle.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai has such lovely toes, too. All wrinkled from too much bathing. She knew it was a bad idea to get caught with paint in her hair. She takes a moment to admire her toes, before looking at Solandat, and then the bronze, and then pales. "No! Nononono. Go away. Shoo. I'll save you, Solandat!" She's good at that. She waves her hands at the bronze, and attempts to puff herself up and look bigger, more menacing. Deeeeeeep breath.

From Hatching Sands, "Hey. Hey!" Aline's sense of propriety is interrupted by the bronze's approach to Eyochai. "He can't do that, can he? I always though it was bronzes to guys and golds to girls, because, um, that's the way it is and stuff. Why is he going over there? There isn't a guy over there, is there?"

R'vian knows he's nearly sold his soul. Smoothing his hair back, then forcing the hand down to fiddle with the nails on the other, he attempts a different tactic. Not paying attention at all. Turning to Tarlin, he grins half-heartedly, "You work in the kitchens, right?"

From Hatching Sands, Kora mops the sweat off her face with the sleeve of her robe before realizing what she's done. Then she looks down. Uh-oh. Well, maybe a dragon will be attracted to the sweat smell. . .

La'en looks around. People're supposed to be cheering spastically for greens and anyone who Impresses a male dragon. This is not happening; thus, she and Innokasth are Perturbed. Moreso than usual, which isn't really hard to accomplish. "Greeen. Greeen. More browns need to hatch. Hmph. And greens." More hmphs, and such.

Tarlin decides to stay out of the betting pool with such odds. She grins at R'vian, amused at his plight, and nods. "Yep, I work in the kitchens." She then points at the woman next to the candidate the brownrider had pointed out. "She'll prolly getta green." That wasn't a bet. Really it wasn't.

From Hatching Sands, Solandat's eyes widen a trifle, and then more than a trifle, at Eyochai's announcement. "Save yourself first!" Which is a bit of a ridiculous thing to say, but then, he's not quite all there just yet. "I don't think inhaling is going to do it!" He himself has decided that the best way to stay out of a dragonet's path is to back up, but then, that's not nearly as entertaining as the hand-waving.

From Hatching Sands, "Go Eyo!" Ulerae cheers the Igenite on, grin splitting face as she tugs again on Mikani's hand. "Imagine that, Mikani. See that? The bronze is going over there. Maybe for Solan, d'you think?"

From Hatching Sands, Yes, there /is/ a guy behind Eyochai.. Tharian. He spies the bronze coming his way, and stops dead in his tracks; for once, no smart-alek remark falls from benumbed lips. He simply stares at the dragon in disbelief.

From Hatching Sands, Aire lets out war whoops and terrifying, Valkyrie-esque shrieks as she cheers Eyochai on, looking like some bizzare fantasy female with her red-eyed steed flapping its wings behind her. "Eeeeeyo! Eeeeyo!"

From Hatching Sands, Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling sticks his muzzle down to sniff at those toes, and then winces. What's all the waving for? He's *right* there. Silly Eyochai. Sniff. She smells nice. Sniff. Yup, she - but wait! What's that? Spotting something behind the frantic girl, happy croons ensue: how perfect!

Toria slants at eye at Tarlin, it sounded like a bet to her. "Okay, a 1/4 mark on it," she says, leaving very little room for arguement. That means Toria wins if it is blue or brown. The cook needs to learn how to speak carefully around the gambling Weyrwoman. She leans in, dark eyes on the sands as she peers down at the pair near the bronze.

From Hatching Sands, Elegant Pat Savage Bronze Hatchling knows what he's searching for and has hesitated long enough in this, his newest adventure. One after another, he inspects the white-robed ones, before stopping in front a blue-eyed figure, pausing to look him over for an instant. Giving a soft croon of disapproval, he lets his own eyes fall to those of Solandat.

From Hatching Sands, Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling launches her haunches, and begins the prowl. Her energy is endless, barely contained by her small angular form. She'll have to take it out on those big, white bowling pins over there. Green dynamo barrels forward, wailing like a siren. At least she gives fair warning. There's a Good-Thing out there. She's just gotta find it.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani lets her hand be tugged. "Nah, the bronze is going to Solandat or Tharian. He's just teasing Eyochai. see, he's already moved on to.. It's Solandat! Yay, Solandat! Congratulations!"

R'vian is completely staying out of /this/ bet. He shakes his head at Tarlin, "Watch out, young'n, that Weyrwoman knows what she's doing." Speaking of which... eyes glance out to the sands, just catching the approach of a bronze to a certain candidate. Is it... could it...?

La'en peers. "Oh." Bronzerider. That's good. "Con... gratulations other person I don't know." Right. Hack.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney points out to her neighbour boy in intent fashion, "Bronze just /don't/ go to girls. But maybe it's her toes." She stops suddenly, one finger jabbing out at Solandat. The holler fairly barrels out from her mouth. "Got him! Congrats!"

From Hatching Sands, Kora clasps her hands joyfully under her chin. Solandat is another one of her friends. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the barreling green and gives her a clear path.

From Hatching Sands, "Go Solan!" Ulerae wiggles her white-clad rear in an excess of happiness, eyes lingering on Solan's bronze before flickering back to the green. "Where's she going, so quickly?"

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai hath been teased. She looks miffed again. "Don't offer if you don't intend to follow through, mister," she announces. She has failed, once again, to protect her friend. Solandat's impression is greeted with a mixed bag of emotions. Like; "What? You're too nice to ride bronze! I'm so sorry for failing you! What's his name?"

From Hatching Sands, Leigha grins at Solandat, "What's his name, Solandat?" she calls, motioning for the weyrlings to join her.

Tarlin blinks, a little slow on the uptake. What did she say wrong? She turns her gaze to the Weyrwoman. "But.. I wasn't bettin'," she answers, ready to argue her way out of this one.

From Hatching Sands, Only Time Will Tell Egg turns slowly, movements easy and slow, before a sudden, frenetic burst of activity takes place. Slowing once more, it seems to pause for a moment, and then...

From Hatching Sands, Harsh marigold shadows as the Only Time Will Tell Egg moves about, shaking and shivering for a moment at an assult from within. It stops, then, before the egg simply explodes into shards, leaving behind a very smug-looking Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling.

From Hatching Sands, Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling
From Hatching Sands, Elusive quicksilver frolics along the contours of her slender frame, over the deep, dark jasper that shimmers in opalescence and melds atop austere, angular lineaments, assuaging harsh features with the alien traces of incandescence, grazing bony shoulders and kissing the vast spread of broad wings. From there, Jade tumbles down her gawky, lanky extremities, surrendering to the inky void of a barnacled belly, the blackened bottle-green of her creases, and the murky verdure that creeps along her beryline sides. While pearly smoke and crystalline hints of fragile dove sift over the elfin cast of her triangular head and limn the lines of a proud jaw, hoarfrost and morning dew repose among her craggy neckridges, and teasing strains of verdigris slink through the subtle stirring of dappled moss, as enigmatic as the ghost whispers of sooty absinthe beneath the esoteric darkness that cloaks her in endless, eternal verdancy.

From Hatching Sands, Aline echoes, beaming at the weyrling: "Yeah, Solan, what's his name, Solan? I bet it's pretty, too." The last, of cours,e is an aside to herself.

X'ver gives La'en an odd, sideways look. "Bronzerider's are good." Shouldn't La'en and Innokasth be happy? He's male, afterall. Turning back, he brightens and points again. "Look! Another green!"

From Hatching Sands, S'olan takes a step back, catches his breath. And then, suddenly, incredibly, laughs, fiercely, joyfully. "Brighter, yes, of course, you are bright. Laenaoth. His name is Laenaoth!"

Enrapt in the close presence of the bronze to the boy, Toria completely misses what Tarlin has to say, therefore, to her the bet is still good. Come on, blue or brown! Go away bronze!

From Hatching Sands, N'am slides an arm around his new lifemate and moves, still gaping, to the edge of the sands to join the other weyrlings and the weyrlingmaster. "Yes, yes, food. I'm hungry." The plaintive whine emerges from the lad, but it's more likely the words of Jaath.

From Hatching Sands, May finally finds another yellow egg to pretend is housing a gold, "This one _has_ to be it!" she quietly proclaims and goes to staring at it intently, only distracted by a bronze choosing that Sol boy, "Congratulations Solandat!" the new rider given another looking over, for future reference, he is a bronzerider now after all.

From Hatching Sands, "Hah-ha!" Aire cackles madly, clapping for Solandat. "I knew he'd do well. Strapping young lad like that..." Well, more of a scrawny young lad, but in her affection-fuzzied eyes, he's lovely. Love is blind, after all.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai is left all alone. She tries not to look happy about it, but she does a bit. No more dragon magnets. Now we can get down to business. The newest green is ignored a bit, because she's busy eyeing fireball Arcadian with fear, and making faces at a guy in the galleries, too. No blues; she's safe for the moment from needing to pay attention. Tonguewiggle.

La'en claps dimly. "A green." A monotonous cheer is, obviously, possible.

From Hatching Sands, Saine twists around to do her cheerthing, bumping Llywith in the process so that teh congratulations are mixed with quickworded appologies. "Yay-sorry-woo-go-aryoualright?"

From Hatching Sands, Nest smiles at the bronze pairing, clasping her hands together, she glances at the others and then calls out to Solandat "Congratulations to you and Laenaoth." She pauses "I mean S'olan, come over here and join the others."

From Hatching Sands, Kora notices that the crowd on the sands has thinned out, in some ways. Now that there's a gaggle of newly-Impressed over there, there are a lot less white-robes on the sands. Feeling in need of human companionship she heads towards the last large clump of candidates.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan pokes Sh'lor in the ribs, then smiles happily. "Mmmmm, competition," she remarks, carefully avoiding any glance towards G'min. However, her arm doesn't move from its' place around the WeyrSecond's waist, merely tightening slightly at the sight of the bronze Impressing.

From Hatching Sands, Aline sneaks up behind Eyochai, once again on the move and tapping the Igenite on the shoulder. "Eyochai! Wanna be my protecter?"

Yseia has arrived.
Yseia arrives.

Tarlin fingers her own pratically empty pockets and starts to size up the greens on the sands, wondering which one will turn towards Eyochai. After all, this is her first bet, so, upon the rule of 'beginner's luck,' she has to win. She points at the bronze. "Look. Is that the one you was bettin' on?"

From Hatching Sands, Time Waits For No Man Egg suddenly spins, kicking sand and debris in every which direction as its' inhabitant seeks release

From Hatching Sands, Faint grindings emanate from beneath the shell of Time Waits For No Man Egg, causing it to shudder violently before criss-cross cracks cover the surface, shocked suddenly into complete dissolution. Dust and minute egg shards rise in a mist, completely obscuring the emergence of the formerly stasis-bound inhabitant, Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling.

From Hatching Sands, Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling
From Hatching Sands, Mahogany shadows haphazardly pool into subtle sleekness along this dragon's lithe flanks and saucy tail, spiralling mischeviously in flame-kissed stripes that caress the play of his chest muscles down to pewter-tipped talons of elegantly polished darkness set in seal dark paws. Wings neither too large nor short for his medium frame grace him in feline aureate brilliance, the debonair play of sunset-draped wingtips always perfectly placed above his wedge-shaped head; gold fades to mahogany towards trailing edge, sails lined in seal brown velvet and criss-crossed by the eerie green of veins just below the surface. His inquisitive nose, blunted slightly and stained in klah-dark tones, balances rakishly angled eyeridges above graciously tilted eyes, a restless betrayal of his eternally internal scheming.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai simply cannot resist this play for her ego. "Protector? Sure, Aline. You don't mind that I've failed on everyone else, right?" She nods in the direction of Solandat and poor Aire of the ugly dragon. "Because, I'm beginning to think that this is all Lah'i's fault." Evil brownrider, making all the hatchlings head for her.

From Hatching Sands, "Now /she/," Ulerae's chin indicates the green, hand swinging idly by her side, "is entirely lovely. And another one!" Head tilts slightly, 'brows twisting in a slight frown. "How odd. He sorta reminds ... me ... of ... huh. Gimme a minute and I'll think of it."

La'en prods X'ver. "That one's Dallan's, I bet. I bet it is." Because she can. Right.

From Hatching Sands, Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling shrieks again. There's no stealth to this search, and currently she's being upstaged by that other green thing. No good. She snaps out tiny, spindled wings and swings her head around, scouring those in white. Look here, listen here!

From Hatching Sands, Nest's smile broadens to see a brown appear and she almost looks like she is going to jump up and down in delight. She shakes her head and remembers her duty "Not much longer, I sure you start to feel hunger now?" she asks of the weyrlings, glancing over all of them and their pairings.

From Hatching Sands, Aline just beams. Mindlessly, as she squeezes past a small girl-Candidate and attaches herself to Eyochai's side. "That's okay. I just bet you'll Impress, and then it won't matter that everyone else did, because you'll be in the same boat. Right?" Riiight.

From Hatching Sands, Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling makes quite a coordinated exit from her egg, although she seems slightly surprised as she lands on the sands. Rising, she shakes her head, sending goo and egg fragments flying as she leans forward to examine the world in which she finds herself. Hrmmmmmmm. A ginger step forward, and then another, and she's on her way without a backward glance. Which one of these will measure up? Upstaging her green sister is just the beginning - this one is a show stealer, and she intends to keep it so every step of the way. And attempt at a bugle chokes off somewhere in her unpracticed young throat, but smugness fails to fade. Passing a brown, she readies herself to begin searching. There's one out here, and just one...

From Hatching Sands, Saine's shoulder lifts in a slight shrug. "Uh." Lip twists, expression distinctly confused. "Well. I do know that I've got a sudden urge to nibble on some raw herdbeast?"

From Hatching Sands, Kora winces at the sound. "That is one frustrated hatchling." She creates doodles in the sand with her toe, idly looking to see what will finally transpire. Flowers, triangles, and wiggly, squiggly lines take shape under her feet.

X'ver reaches over absently to prod La'en back. "Maybe. I still think she'd be better on a blue." Because everyone would be better on a blue. "But maybe. He's pretty." Or handsome, or whatever it is that brown dragonets are.

Toria frowns, noddly mutely toward Tarlin. Ah well, can't win them all, and at least R'vian can have a happy moment. Moment. Okay, the cook is in trouble. The Weyrwoman turns all her attention on the present greens on the sands, and Eyochai. If mindwill worked alone, the girl would be a greenrider before the sun sets.

From Hatching Sands, Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling pokes his head above the remains of his shell, predatory gaze raking the Sands as he surveys the table. First one paw, then another, emerges from the shards, testing the sands before being settled firmly to the ground. Lithe body suddenly slips from the shadows, wet wings open into seal darkness, and he crows his arrival in alley-cat tones. Let the /par-tay/ begin!

From Hatching Sands, S'olan and Laenaoth move toward the edge of the Sands. "You're hungry. Yes. Food. Yes." Eyes are still bright and a bit star-dazzled. "Laenaoth."

Blissot swings the brat in hand to the other hip, swaying a little to push closer to the front. The small boy makes a comment on the 'weally big fwits', and how much more gooey they are than he would've imagined. Bliss wrestles a cookie from the depths of a pocket and pops it into the bratlet's mouth before he can make any other unnecessary observations, such as how some of the greens look like the mould on old sweetsticks. He's very charming, this kid.

From Hatching Sands, Kora laughs at the brown's entrance. "Show-off!"

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai looks plaintively at Aline. "But there aren't any /blues/," she says in a half whine. The wild, wild green is admired faintly. "You go, girl. Just stay away from here, okay?" Some of my best friends are fierce, but I wouldn't want my dragon to be..."Heylook, Aline. It's a brown. What'cha prefer, anyway?" She needs to know what to be most concerned about, see. Where does she resort to giving her life for Aline's safety.

R'vian's reaction? Why, he simply, and smugly, relaxes back, folding hands behind his head. "Ah, it feels good to win," he comments lazily. Completely at peace with the world. And so sharding relieved he could spit.

La'en shakes her head. "No. /Brown./" Blissot and the weyrbrat are eyed. "That person brought a kid." La'en'd be dashing and go save everyone from the wrath of small children, but you never know how many children a weyrbrat-weilding person might /really/ have around. "And I still say brown." This returns her attention to the sand, for a moment.

From Hatching Sands, Aline blinks blankly, face falling into a mask of ... nothing. All pressure, no brains, the little Candie. "Preference? I -- I dunno. The greens are pretty. So are the blues. And the browns. What about you?" Perfectly ambiguous.

From Hatching Sands, Sh'lor chuckles softly, ice blue gaze moving over the sands to examine S'olan, the newest addition to Igen's bronzerider ranks. "We'll cope somehow, love. He'll never catch his dam while Sanath's around, that much I promise."

Tarlin urges the more energetic of the greens towards the indicated candidate, preferring spunk to beauty, herself. "You want heeeeer..." she says softly under her breath and then blushes when she realizes how much she's getting into the bet.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai has already made her preferences clear; she'll either be a busty bluerider, or she'll have Noa's job. Or maybe she'll take over the world. Buah..."Doesn't matter," she replies to Aline, and gets distracted by the new brown.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani snakes her wands away again, wiping them on the rear of her robe. Her eyes tick from green to green to eggs to... hold on there, missy, what have we /here/? She turns her gaze to the felinesque form of the newly hatched brown, and her hands frantically squirm towards Ulerae and Dallaney again.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan suddenly giggles, grinning up at Sh'lor. "Sayurith wonders why?" she remarks, reproducing the comment with the coy detachment of the queen dragon. Sayurith herself only rumbles softly towards her own weyrmate, coquettishly ducking her head as her first lids flutter flirtatiously.

From Hatching Sands, Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling must have some kind of internal generator, because the energy just keeps coming. She squals backwards to her newborn clutchmates, and launches again for the crowd. Look fellas', this is what you do. They like it. A flash of motion in a tight candidate knot draws her curiosity. The noise, the questions... Petra wants in on Eyochai and Aline's fun.

Toria realizes her confused mistake and blinks. Wait! No, not green! Blue! Brown! Her eyes scan the sands for the appropriate color, trying to mentally direct them toward the candidate. R'vian gets a silent elbow in the ribs, just cause.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney lifts a sandal to scratch the foot underneath it. "Lots of greens," she grunts absently, "Hope they won't be dimglows next time." She's made up her mind, at any rate. Hand tugs on Mikani's, and she notes in softer tones amidst the girl's squirming grasp: "The brown looks like a troublemaker. You--like--him?" Blink.

From Hatching Sands, Carpe Diem Egg seizures violently, splintering at the cusp between night's shadows and day's hues. The shell disintegrates quickly as a newborn head dawns over a ragged edge. Within a moment's gasp, the gap is wide enough to allow the glistening form trapped beneath to finally break through: Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling lurches forth.

From Hatching Sands, Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling
From Hatching Sands, Inky dollops of dusty rose salmon coalesce the creases of his vast expanse of seasoned black cherry hide, cluttering into gangly extremities seeped in sepia before vanishing beneath of facade of dusky darkness. Sleek sheets of lengthy mocha-washed wings drizzled with an ethereal edge of frosty pink coral veins engulf him, cluttering the smooth, rounded ridges that bud from his elongated neck and rosewood headknobs, leaving only a whim of the large, expressive eyes that light his nervous triangular head. Hints of deep well metallicy limn his soot-smudged physique, creating golden glimpses that overshadow the disproportions and discrepancies and glitter the lengthy starscape frame from rich hazelnut tail to clever ebon talons with heroic motes of succulent, suffering incandescence.

From Hatching Sands, "Um." Eyochai's arm is tugged, Aline's eyes widening blankly. "Eyo. Eyo! /Um/! Again!" That's the extent of her coherency, green-blue eyes flickering startledly over the green.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai knew it. "K'mraaaaa," she whines. "This is all your fault." The brownrider probably made her smell like studly Tyranoth, or something, over the time of captivity. She stands her ground, hands on hips, and watches Arkadian's approach. She's not backing down. "Remember A'lamoo," she hsssts at Aline. "We'll go down fighting!"

Blissot smiles winningly toward La'en, ducking her head behind the chunky toddler. Take the kid, take the kid.. oh. Well, one can never be too safe. "You need another cookie." She keeps a steady supply of pastries going into the boy's mouth -- she doesn't have bedtime shift, why should she worry about hyperactivity?

From Hatching Sands, Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling doesn't waste anytime, not he. A glance down at his paws to ensure order, a brief rub of wedge-shaped head against chest to polish mahogany headknobs, and he's off across the Sands, sauntering in that don't-I-own-the-place manner that marks a dragonet of confidence. A pair of giggling girls are briefly passed by, with only a flick of his sophisticated wingtips, then it's onwards, and upwards, towards the straggling group of candidates that yet remain.

From Hatching Sands, Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling strides forward, passing a group of males without a backward glance, shouldering past a slender harper lad to peek around him. Perhaps, perhaps.... this way. With a toss of her head, she sets off. Her green sister seems to have the right idea, and there's no way this one's going to miss out on any of that. With a twitch of her tail, she treads across the sands, picking up her pace. There's a lot to be accomplished, and she's going to need a willing vi... accomplice, if she's to get it all done. There's a lot of world to rule out there, you know.

From Hatching Sands, K'mra hears that and switches attention to Eyochai, beaming. "I know. Isn't that great?" Less than repentant, the brownrider mentions, "Tyranoth does have some taste, although I doubted it at the time."

R'vian has no clue why he's elbowed; probably because he's gloating. Just a bit. Or maybe because he passed the confusion bug on over. Oh well. He still got his money back, and he's nooooot gonna bet it out any more this Hatching. That right there is a divine act of some sort.

Aurelie has arrived.
Aurelie arrives.

Taera steps lightly toward Viewing Ledges.

From Hatching Sands, "A'lamoo?" Aline repeats blankly, echoing Eyochai's stance -- albeit sloppily. "Who's he?"

Taera has arrived.

From Hatching Sands, Aidubaith starts to find the edge of Aire's robe fascinating - she's fascinating, too, of course, but... strings! - and begins to nibble on the uneven hem. "Stoppit!" she hisses in gut reaction, batting away his muzzle even as he hisses playful at her. Boo!

From Hatching Sands, Nest's mouth falls into an o as she sees the latest brown hatch and she smiles softly, "Beautiful." She shifts her feet, tired of standing still and the heat getting to her now and she shakes her head and eyes drop away from the two browns back to the weyrlings to see if they are alright and she grins at Saine "Now you just learn that be Llywith's thoughts not yours."

From Hatching Sands, Saine would be shocked if she realised the green's world dominational plans. It's her world. Really. Meanwhile, she's having what seems to be a one sided conversation with Llywith that seems to go on and on and on.

Tarlin leans forward in her seat as the green heads directly for Eyochai and Aline. Fists clenched in anticipation, she catches herself holding her breath. "C'mon. You kin do it," she says under her breath and then shouts through cupped hands at the candidate. "Don't scare 'er off!"

La'en peers back at Blissot. Winning smile? If La'en were proddy, she might take the kid, but La'en's not proddy, and thus, manages only a vague bow and a half-pitying look before peering back at the sands. "Bringing a weyrbrat. Eh." Or something. "Ooh. Another brown! Look, X'ver! Another brown. And the greens look .. decided." Or something. "Hah."

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai explains to Aline; "Some guy in a clutch a while ago. Legendary. He screamed at this one blue from the moment he hatched, to the moment he Impressed him. Something about not liking the color of his left wingsail. Anyway, he Impressed, but he did so bravely." Awe shines in her eyes.

From Hatching Sands, Kora debates moving again, indecision clearly registering on her features. Sure now that none of these dragons are going to chose her, she moves slowly and inconspicuously towards the sands entrance, attempting to deliberately be overlooked.

From Hatching Sands, Ulerae's giggle is covered in a fit of coughing, free hand falling over her mouth -- though her eyes still just /gleam/ amusement. "Silly Eyochai. She'd better not scream. Sayurith'd get upset, I'd bet."

From Hatching Sands, Sh'lor watches the pair of greens weave their way across the sands, and there's the beginning of a gleam of triumph in his eye as he replies to Siobhan absently. "Why? You both know that much, love. Because we'll be there. Every time." And whether it's arrogant or not, it's a quiet statement, for his weyrwoman's ears only. Sanath leans into Sayurith, his rumble deeply amused by some impending event.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani nods wordlessly. "Yeah, I like him, for some reason." Her voice is soft, awed, and she doesn't even turn her head when the second brown hatches, for her attention is taken up with that first one. And that green, who seems to be homing in on her decision. If she were to wager, she /thinks/ one of the greens will go to Leseela.

Toria rocks back, surprised at the outburst from the cook beside her. Brows high, she just chuckles and turns back. Well, at least if she looses she will have made two people's day. Glancing toward R'vian, she says, "Brown. I will bet you for brown... "

X'ver nods vaguely at La'en, looking around hopefully for another blue. "Right. Browns. Right..." There's gotta be a blue hiding /somewhere/... Blissot gets a quick glance, but then the bluerider's attention turns back to the more important topic of blue dragonets and half-marks.

From Hatching Sands, You'd better believe she'd get upset - didn't the weyrlingmasters tell the candidates that Sayurith hasn't eaten in a week??

From Hatching Sands, "Really?" Aline's head jerks to the side, bird-like, tongue flickering over lips in nervousment, though she snorts slightly. "I don't think I'll do that. It might frighten her, you see." And gaze goes back to the greens, blinking. "Hers, rather." Sudden, odd calm.

From Hatching Sands, Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling saw them first- She's enough dragon for two girls, right? Angles straighten out in a display-case pose. Like what you see? Has she got a deal for you. Lifetime warranty, and 24-7 telepathic helpline. A decision snaps into place, and Petra lunges for Aline, a lifemate to match her energy and enthusiasm. Catch!

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai is almost hoping Sayurith will get upset. Then she can be like that Hotty-person she's heard of, and yell at the clutchdam from the galleries while Sayurith threatens to cause a cave-in. Another hero for the list. "Silly ninny," she chides Aline gently. "I'm not going to /scream/. Just refuse to back off. No one's going to tell me what to--oh. Um." Aline hath Impressed, it seems. "Sorry?"

La'en waves a hand, and hahs. "That girl got a green! I knew she would." La'en said so, when she was pointing at random faces. "Good for you! Hah."

From Hatching Sands, Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling hauls a huge foot from the shards of his own making, over and onto the sand...Lt. Barklay reporting for duty, sir...and promptly falls flat on his face. *splat* Crunch the nose, he does, only flap at his overlong wings and sturggle to regain his stance. In vain. But this too shall pass. Wriggling his tail around himself to push up from the dome of one shell lain over on its sharp edges, he rocks upward, hauling himself up, up, up...and /splat/ onto his nether regions, tail twisted about his neck, one wing above his head and the other behind him. He blinks.

From Hatching Sands, Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling tilts her head, peering at the two her sister has selected with unmistakeable interest. She has an agenda. She needs spunk. She needs determination. She needs something she can see very nearby. And it's got steel grey eyes. She doesn't need someone to simper at her, she needs a partner. Someone, most importantly of all, who'll willingly aid and abet. Another step forward. There's one nearby who might just go down screaming, which at least shows she's got spunk. She starts to edge around Aline and her new lifemate. This way.

From Hatching Sands, Continuing the search for her own, the one that will listen to her, Arcadian Petra Storm Green Hatchling suddenly stops. Virescent head is dropped, and a tiny creel trickles across the sand, her wobbling path sending her stumbling into a tall form, sending long hair furling. Outwardly calm, she lifts her eyes, focusing gently on Aline.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney retreats to that looming distant manner. "There are a few more. That pair of greens and a brown. Another one." It's safer here, where she peers around at the dragonets in dark-eyed, keen-edged scrutiny, nose up at one then the other. "And hey, that one. It's the harper."

From Hatching Sands, Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling wanders lonely as a cloud for awhile, then comes to a complete stop, sniffing the air inquisitively. A minor direction change, and he stops again, this time listening. Is that the mellifluous tones of an angel he hears? And coming from the direction of that most marvelous odour! With a hop-skip, the feline brown reverses himself and makes a beeline for his journey's end.

From Hatching Sands, Aire cheers merrily for Aline, Aidubaith discovering the amusing muffling affect his wing has when it's put between her and the newly-Impressed. "Al....ne!" the girl calls around the dragon-induced doppler effect.

From Hatching Sands, Aline catches! Aline catches? Aline /stares/. "Wha'--Circeoth! Of course I am!" And she wraps sweaty arms around the lovely green, repeating with a not-so-mindless beam: "Her name is /Circeoth/!"

Toria explodes as the green picks the /other/ girl! Leaping from her seat, she claps enthusiastically for Aline, whoever she is. "Go greenie!" Now she just has to will a blue toward the other girl. Then she spots the other green and starts shaking her head in negation of the ultimate horror, "No no no no." R'vian is forgotten for the moment, there are greens afoot!

"Don't eat my hand, please." Blissot's only comfort is that the weyrbabe is quiet now, if a little drooly. "Look.. at all those greens." Her shoulders wilt -- greenriders mean proddines. And that means more weyrkids. Her favorties, and where the nanny's eyes linger longest, are the browns. They should Impress to girls Cough.

From Hatching Sands, May sighs as this new yellow egg refuses to hatch promptly, just as the other did. And it seems no matter how hard she wills it to crack it just wont do it! She looks out to the throng of other hatching dragons and their cries of joy in finding partners, grinning again as Aline is found by a green, "Congratulations... er... Lina?" vague remembrance of conversations on 'What would you change your name to if...' pulled from the back of her mind.

From Hatching Sands, Leigha grins and nods to Nest to bring Aline and Circeoth over to the entrance, then bends to examine a blue's fouled wingtip.

R'vian waves his hands to ward off the evil. "No, Weyrwoman, don't tempt me to be poor man again. I've a child, a love interest. These things cost marks!" Not that the Weyrwoman is paying attention, but, that works for the good, too.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai eyes the Rowan warily, in the manner that indicates that if she's /told/ to be spunky, she won't do it. She backs off a step.

From Hatching Sands, Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling is bound and determined. Bound by his tail and wings and determined to boldly go where no dragon has gone before. Yah. Shifting his head from left to right, as if sizing the situation, he regroups all the parts of him that have claws and scrambles to his feet, eyes wide. Hey! It worked! He puffs out his chest. Now. To find the right one.

From Hatching Sands, Nest grins and nods at Leigha and walks onto the sands and smiles "Aline? Could you bring Circeoth over here, you will both me more comfortable over here." She pauses "Congrautations." She gestures at the other weyrlings who are waiting "Come meet the others, not that you don't know 'em but.." she trails off and blushes and walks back to the others, expecting Aline to follow.

La'en waves a hand at Blissot. "Greens. /Greens/ are what everyone should Impress to." Because La'en's a freak. "That girl got a green. She's very nifty, then."

From Hatching Sands, Mikani grins as she watches the green Impress... Aline? Wellwell, that's a surprise! "Aline.. Aline and Ciceoth! Congratulations!" She turns and peers.. nope, no dragons seem to be coming this way, so she turns around and scratches frantically at one leg. Itch sated for the moment, she turns her gaze back on the remaining dragonets.

From Hatching Sands, "Oh, yes," Aline -- Lina? -- responds dazedly, straightening and carefully touching a finger to Circeoth-wing to lead the green away. "I'm coming. You too, Circeoth."

From Hatching Sands, Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling is somewhat contradictory, you know. And just because she's not wanted, she wants. Oh, this is going to be fun. More than fun. She's going to have to invent a new word.

From Hatching Sands, Kora folds lanky arms over a virtually flat chest, noticing both the sweat sticking her hair to her scalp and that the brown has finally started off. Shoving her bangs back out of her eyes she watches him from a safe distance.

From Hatching Sands, Contradictory Prime Rowan Green Hatchling pauses suddenly, elfin head swinging about with unerring certainty so that her determined gaze can fix upon steel grey, almond shaped eyes. No long and lonely road lies ahead of this youngling, for she starts forward to plant herself firmly before one young woman. With this one she has found her meeting of minds. This one is hers: Eyochai!

Kesheret has arrived.
Kesheret arrives.

Tarlin leaps to her feet with a whoop! "Yay! Green!" she calls out. It wasn't the one she had expected, but it's the color that counts. She beams at the Weyrwoman. "How much didja bet me?" she wonders smugly.

From Hatching Sands, "Aline! Lovely! An --- /Eyo/!!!" Shrill. Ulerae's call is appropriately loud, bouncing excessively. "Mikani, see? They Impressed! Even Eyo!"

Toria slumps back into her seat and sighs. Shaking her head, she grumbles, "I went from rich to poorer then a brownrider in less then 5 minutes." As Tarlin inquires on the amount, she blinks. Didn't she hear? Well now, "We bet that if you won you'd pay me 5 marks." She has to make it a realistic sum to make it believeable. Her smile is genuine.

Blissot glances hesitantly toward La'en, who she has ultimately come to gather is a greenrider. "Beans. Er. Right, of course. Greens.. yep." She just nods. La'en gave her a look, thus she must be cautious. "Very.. uhm.. nifty?" Ignore the faint squeak of her drawl. She tugs down her hat. "Brambleberries..." Another one.

From Hatching Sands, Mikani gasps as that second green goes to Eyochai. "Ooooooo, look! Look! Eyochai Impressed! The green went to her! Isn't that great?" Her gaze now locks on the two remaining dragonets on the sand.. and then flashes about to look at the myriad trios and pairs that dot tha sand in small clots.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai has only enough time to shoot a 'Mine's broken, Mommy, can I have another?' look to Sayurith, to everyone who she blames for her fate -- including everyone who ever made a bet that she'd Impress green -- and then she's invaded by a whole new world, as un-Meek and Biddable as they come. She has to pause a moment to swallow the loud whoop welling inside her. "Kezasuth," she says calmly, voice only mildly shaking, "I think we shall." She plants one hand across those sloping green shoulders, and adds, with due drama; "And my name," more loudly, "is /Echo/."

From Hatching Sands, Narcisisstic Mutate Cat Brown Hatchling slides to a rather messy stop before the cook, snuffling at hands and robe as if curious about what her spicy scent can reveal. Stepping back finally, he raises seal-dark wings to the sky, crooning madly his rock lullaby to that gem of gems, that far-out maker of meatrolls, Mikani, and making her his for now and for all time.

From Hatching Sands, Kora raises an eyebrow again. Eyochai? She shakes her head and continues to watch.

From Hatching Sands, May is wandering all over the place looking for remaining 'gold' eggs, having some difficulty finding them among the happy cries and creels of impression. The press of the other candidates as they either hover together in fear or giggle in the open just give her more grief and she's starting to get snippy, "Oh, quit your blabbering. If you would just get out of their way they wouldn't hurt you one bit." she snaps at a terrified holder girl that looks to be from the very back woods, to which the girl responds with ever more terror and May just continues to stalk away, "Wherry head." she then pauses as she catches sight of another friend impressing, "Oh Eyo! She's lovely!" the greenie girl admired as the previous ones were.

R'vian pauses a moment, spectator to the bet and the Hatching both. Brows furrow, and he counts on his fingers a bit. Then, he lifts a finger, mouth dropping open. "Wait..."

Tarlin wrinkles her nose. "No. Had ta be somethin' like a quarter mark," she retorts. "You said you'd pay me a quarter mark." She grins. "Make it a half mark an' I forget thatcha lied to me." *beam*

From Hatching Sands, "And /you/!" Ulerae snatches her hand away, beaming at Mikani. "I told you! What's his name, Mika?"

Blissot bounces a little, cheering out for Mikani, who she recognizes. Faintly. But she can just make her out over the brat's unruly hair, after all.

From Hatching Sands, Aire waves cheerfully at Aline as she and Circeoth mosey on over, Aidubaith's dark eyes following after the green with bad intent. "Eyo! Mikani!" Names ring out, voice starting to get an edge as it goes raw. All the whooping didn't help, either.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney knives her sandals on the ground, freezing briefly. "Eyochai," she hears and echoes, clenched teeth working at themselves, gaze on the brown before her companion. "Mikani, you can't be--" Oops. Hollow, her voice is. Oh. "Grats."

From Hatching Sands, Leigha grins at Ulerae, and turns to Mikani expectantly. "Do tell, Mikani," says she, grin almost splitting her Threadscored face as she welcomes the weyrling.

Enjoying Tarlin's gumption, Toria chuckles, agreeing, "All right, 1/2 mark it is." All right now, she turns toward R'vian. He has to make up for her loss, somehow. "Okay, brown, which one will get brown?" She's still giving him odds.

From Hatching Sands, Noa shifts a little on her heels. They just went and gave all her dragons to all her white-robed gardener-trainees. Drat. This was not in the plan. Aw well, might as well party while the partyings's good. "Yeee-haw! Tha's the way." A communal congratulation for those on, and off the sands.

Tarlin beams with delighted shock that her tactics worked. She's going to have to try that more often. Dropping back into her seat, she realizes that she missed a couple of Impressions. "Who else 'pressed?" she wonders.

From Hatching Sands, Siobhan sighs, suddenly realizing that the Sands are almost empty of dragonets and weyrlings, then motions for the remaining candidates to tighten up their formation. "Almost over," she sighs to Sh'lor, then pushes a wayward wet curl from her forehead wistfully.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai joins the weyrling crowd with her Kezasuth keeping pace with her right nice. I want a gal to stand beside me; not in front of or behind me. "Leigha. She needs food. Gimme." Manners, it seems, require a separate purchase to acquire.

From Hatching Sands, Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling treks out into the throng of candidates, the sheer length of him dragging along shell shards as he passes, determined, assured, seeking...and dragging those huge wings and tail behind him. He stops near Noa and sniffs her. Is she the one? The wrinkle in his snout causes him to sneeze. *Honk* Must be alergies. Wrong one. He wants a /buddy/. She isn't it.

From Hatching Sands, Kora sees the Weyrwoman's gesture and quietly takes her place, once again almost in the very center of the Sands and again in the unwelcome spotlight. She cringes as she sees the faces of the watchers and turns to face the dragons. They won't laugh at her, anyway. . .

R'vian chuckles and shakes his head. "Kids say the shardest things." Sighing, he looks reluctantly out the sands, thinking of his at least breaking even. Well, maybe it wouldn't be too risky... He points a finger out to Aline, "That one, I bet that one for blue or green."

From Hatching Sands, Ulerae squishes closer, nudging Dallaney. "One brown left, and that blue over -- never mind, he just Impressed. Who's the brown for, d'you think?" The gardener is eyed. "Not Noa, I hope."

From Hatching Sands, Mikani was so intent on the Impression of Eyochai that she was unaware of that feline-brown creeping up on her that way. She turns to say something to Dallaney, and becomes aware thet /something/ is sniffing at her robe. The sensation moves to her hands, and, looking down, Mikani meets the eyes of her lifemate for the first time. She drops to her knees, oblivious to everything but that spicy presemce before her. "Caedmith. He says his name's Caedmith!" She feels like swooning, and then there he is, supporting her with his love. "Caedmith." she repeats yet again, awed.

From Hatching Sands, All of a sudden the egg before May splits and there is a nice little blue baby warbling in its wake. He sits there and peers at the shells as if he doesn't quite get what just happened. May stands with her mouth open in mild shock, its a /blue/! The blue seems to catch that and looks up at her, warbling in amusement before swinging his little tail out and up and wobbling past May, she's cute, but not his type. May flaps her mouth as if she had something to say, but she cant quite get it out. She then realizes how silly she must look and quickly claps her mouth shut and furrows her brow, glaring quite intently now. Cheers again go up and she looks over to see Mikani and her new lifemate sharing that dreamy look. Not quite so cheery now she almost snaps, "Congrats Mik.. Mink?" it was some thing like that.

Tarlin follows R'vian's point and frowns. "But.. she already 'pressed green," the girl points out, gesturing with her own pudgy digit at the green she'd been hoping would Impress Eyochai.

From Hatching Sands, Kora sees Mikani Impress and smiles. A good match!

Toria squints out at Aline, and then asks, "Didn't we already bet on her?" Then she realizes he is playing her and sends him another elbow for the ribs. "That one," she points toward Dallaney, "Is mine. 2 full marks," or some blood?

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney battles for a semblance of dignity. Her jaw gapes faintly. "Caedmith," the tomboy whispers, not looking up. She can move towards Ulerae, though, and does. Growl. "Don't know." Maybe she'll sneak a peek up. A tiny one.

From Hatching Sands, "Bravo! Caedmith is such a pretty name, Mikani!" That's Ulerae, of course, caroling about cheerfully.

R'vian coughs a bit, and alters his point slightly. "Yes, that one, that's the one I meant. Sorry." Ahem. That's not a bad omen, is it? It better not be. He's not in the mood to lose a/gain/.

From Hatching Sands, Eyochai engages in a brief tussle with Kezasuth. "You can't call me Eyochai," she repeats. "I told you. S'not my name." A pause, a few blinks. "No, Yo-yo does not work either." Blinkblink. "Not Eyo-vil, either." Blinkblink. "No." Blinkblink. "/No/. Absolutely not." A blush, and she changes the subject. "Look, Keza. Mikani!"

From Hatching Sands, Noa makes a little shoo-shoo motion as baby dragons threaten. You're far to bumbly to appriciate good, hard, work. Gardner cheers as Caedmith does his thing. "Mik, ya' snagged one!" The sands now nearly empty, she dusts off her hands in satisfaction, and shoves them into pockets. "Good stuff."

From Hatching Sands, "Oh shardit," Dallan grunts at Ule's carols, deigning to dance about a little. "There's just him right? The clumsy one." And she's one--in a million white robes.

From Hatching Sands, Kora digs a little in the sand with her toes, hoping that (like any other stretch of sand) there will be cooler sand underneath. But no. The further she digs the hotter it gets, until it's too hot to keep going with bare feet. Oh well. It was worth a shot. She glances at her fellow Candidates, looking to see if they are as nervous as she is.

From Hatching Sands, Ulerae nods solemnly, wrinkling her nose. "Maybe he'll go to you? I'm not going to Impress, I know, because I'm just a filler in the Candidate ranks, but maybe you could?"

From Hatching Sands, Aire whimpers faintly, the heat of the Sands eating through the soles of her sandals to chew away at her feet. She allows herself the weakness; Impress Aidubaith is all the buff, macho, show-offiness she needs.

From Hatching Sands, Mink turns towards Eyochai and her lifemate, who are moving past on their way to the side. "He changed my name, Echo. He called me Mink." One hand is wrapped lovingly about her brown's neck, and she tries to gently urge Caedmith to where the Weyrlingmaster awaits them. "C'mon, Caed. They'll have food over here." At the mention of the word 'food', the brown immediately halts his bumbling attempts at feling explaoration and moves with unerring grace towards the side of the sands.

From Hatching Sands, Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling doesn't like cucumber-lovers anyway! He siddles to the left of Noa and sniffs at Ulerae. From the darkest recess of his soul...er...or maybe his stomach...he takes a huge, rumbling snuffle of this candidate...and shakes his head. That isn't it, either. Maybe if he fired up the old quantum braincells and hummed really hard he'd find his boy. And then he stops. Organized people of the world eat your heart out. There is room in this world for imperfection and creativity, yes? He turns away from Ule and sniffs again.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney denies with a sharp, short shake of her head. "If /you're/ a filler, I could be too." She glares challenge; turns it at the brown right next to Ulerae. "See?" He's here.

From Hatching Sands, Nest smiles as she watches the brown still deciding who to follow, glancing every now and then at the new weyrlings to see that they are alright. Eyes flick around and she waits for the next impression, gesturing at Mink and Caedmith to come join the others.

From Hatching Sands, Echo points out to Mink; "Y'don't have to do what he tells you to. It's a..." She pauses to find the term. "A give'n'take relationship. He doesn't always get his way." And Eyo will always get her way. "No. Not Yech." A wrinkle of nose to Keza. "Aren't you hungry, dear?"

Elise has arrived.
Elise arrives.

From Hatching Sands, Kora grins at the brown, an expression of fellowship wreathing her features. She says to nobody in particular "Hey, he reminds me of me, somehow. Maybe it's the tripping. . . "

Elise walks toward Viewing Ledges.

From Hatching Sands, Self-Conscious Lt. Barklay Brown Hatchling pauses before the hazel-eyed girl, tilting his head in almost nonchalant curiousity while his very existance probes the girl's inner layers for that special link. He is not long in Chosing, rather it's a matter of laying claim upon the soul in front of him. The instant their patterns of inner selves match, he moves to capture the gaze of Dallaney. Resistance is futile. His key fits her lock perfectly as gazes clash and then meld, and in that instant she is his; and he is hers. There will be no more being left standing for this mahogany-haired weyrling. Dall has been assimilated!

La'en caws. "Dallan got a brown! She got a brown!" Hah.

Tarlin swings her legs beneath her, toes brushing against the stone as it becomes simply a matter of waiting for the last few stragglers to Impress. Pleased by her win and her friend's Impression, however, she won't go away from /this/ hatching unhappy.

The final brown on the sands holds Toria's sole attention, for he holds the key to the rest of her evening. Either she will celebrate her winnings, or go sulk over the fact that the Weyr won't eat for a week because she went on a betting spree. And then it happens, he looks at /her/ and the Weyrwoman goes rigid, trying to will the girl to shout the name.

X'ver manages a cheer for Dallaney's Impression, even as he peers La'en-wards. Maybe she'll forget about the bet. If he's lucky. At her outburst, however, all hope is lost, and the bluerider resigns himself to being half a mark shorter.

From Hatching Sands, Leigha moves with military precision toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Nest walks toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Aire shuffles toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, N'am walks toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, S'olan lopes coltishly toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Llywith waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Saine stumbles toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Jaath waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Aline walks with a sense of half-insecurity, half-courage, in her steps toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Mink strolls, hips gently swaying, toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Circeoth waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.

Blissot looks relatively happy. The browns both Impressed to girls! She finds it in herself to snuggle the drool-mouthed weyrbrat. It almost makes up for all those greens.

From Hatching Sands, Food! Echo and Kezasuth follow the summons, again side by side.
From Hatching Sands, Aidubaith waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Laenaoth waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Echo skulks toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Caedmith waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney stumbles, mumbles. "Nhaeth!" she pauses, bending to scratch a headknob. "Enough already." Off they go, presumably.

From Hatching Sands, May looks around for one of the other yellow eggs but is only finding shells now. With so few left it finally begins to hit her, that lovely reality. Panic. She turns around and around but it seems like all the eggs have hatched, or at least all the ones she had pegged for gold. She looks quickly to the rows of newly impressed to make sure she didn't miss the girl and goldie found someone else, but no saffron brightness gleams there. She sighs at that, least she didn't loose to someone else. Twirling she catches the impression of Dallen and her brown, a sinking feeling making her call a bit of a whimper, "Congrats Dallen..." but where is /her/ dragon???!

From Hatching Sands, "Told you!" On both accounts, Ulerae is smug, and most certainly happy, surveying the sands. "Now I can /finally/ go back to be not-drudge-like." Miss that power, don't you know. "Great job, Dallan!"

La'en caws again. "Dallan got a brown. /Hah/ on you, X'ver! You owe me a halfmark. And those greens Impressed. To nifty people, of course. Greens are great." And such.

X'ver huffs at La'en. "Fine. Have your stupid halfmark." Reaching into his beltpouch, the rider nearly flings it at her. "And the blue's Impressed too! To even niftyer people! Like Saine!" So hah, back.

From Viewing Ledges, Mounted in bright relief upon midnight neck, Kei'a bends over a little sheet of paper and begins penning a letter.

From Hatching Sands, Nhaeth waddles toward Weyrling Barracks.

From Hatching Sands, Gamma takes a deep breath and smiles at Dallaney, shooing her off the sands after the other newest weyrlings. "Congratulations, weyrling." Turning toward those left on the sands she takes an even deeper breath. "That's it, candidates. If you didn't impress, please follow me." She holds her hand in the air.

From Hatching Sands, Dallaney walks toward Weyrling Barracks.
From Hatching Sands, Chalis walks toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

From Hatching Sands, All impressions done, no searching beasties left on the sands, and May left there with the rest of the non impressed. She pales as she realizes she's not going to impress, that her gold dream beasty she was so /sure/ was here, is nowhere to be found. She looks to her mother in a most pitiful and honestly hurt way, but that plea for help suddenly becomes a glare of blame. Of course! Its not /May's/ fault, its all Gamma's fault! She's the evil parent type who just wants to see May suffer! The Weyrwoman is afforded the most evil and hateful look May has ever conjured up. If she could breath fire Gamma would be crispy. If she could shoot lightning from her eyes Gamma would have a new hairdo. Every inch of her radiates that blame and she points a finger at her mother with all the pent up anger of one very mis-guided teen, "You did this on PURPOSE!" tears well up and before she can give Gamma the satisfaction of seeing her cry she turns on a heel and stalks/runs from those evil, hateful eggs. Its their fault too.

Back to Logs Page