i w i l l s u r v i v e. || Sereldeth's Hatching

[Reky]

It was chilly. The ocean was carrying in a cool breeze. The hatching sands were lit bright and kept warm by fires, and Sereldeth was curled, rigid and gargoyle-esque, around her eggs in the haze of sea-salt air and smoke. She hadn't left her spot since her eggs had been laid. Avine had been out and about, helping here and there around the Weyr and Weyrhold. She'd left her gold dragoness well alone, as everyone else in the entire world was cautioned to do. Sereldeth would only let Avine remotely near her and her precious children. On occasion, she would take Isaath up on his offer to help when she needed it, asking him to bring food to the edge of the sands where she could get it herself, but most of the time, she despised him, and all the other dragons, too.

She hardly slept. Sereldeth kept her eyes on her eggs for the good portion of the day. Her interest and devotion to them were unwavering; she never seemed to be bored of them. Her hawk-like watch memorized everything about each and every egg and, on this night, every movement. It started the pale tan egg in the second row, with its dark stormy spot. It twitched, once, and Sereldeth tensed. The second twitch came after a few long minutes, and Sereldeth took up the hum. It welled up in her throat, swelling through her great gold body like a thunderstorm. Resting in his weird, Khalaedeth joined her, and from there it spread like disease. The Hatching had begun.

Avine ran. She ran with the strength her protective dragon gave her, feeling the excitement and anticipation in both their veins. She was panting by the time she got to the candidate barracks, but she forced her voice out anyways. Powerful and commanding, the Weyrwoman bellowed, "Everyone to the Sands, NOW! The Hatching won't wait for you!" That was all she had time for. She sprinted back to the Sand, and came to stand not far from her dragon. Sereldeth took her presence for granted.

You should try to be on time,

[/i] Sereldeth hissed to the minds of the candidates, her voice cold and high. I doubt my children will appreciate latecomers. I know I won't.[/i]

The swirled-gray egg in the first row joined in the other eggs' rocking dance. A few others here and there began to twitch erratically, too, but for now, the hatching was slow. The eggs were taking their time while excitement buzz around the Weyr. People were filing into the wooden bleachers set around the fire-warmed sands. Khalaedeth had perched himself upon the ledge of a nearby, unoccupied weyr, while S'tia hurried with the drudges in the kitchens, preparing meat for the hatchlings that were to be born. Everything was happening at once and, without waiting for the candidates to arrive, the first crack on the pale tan egg had appeared. The Hatching only seemed more real now.[/size][/blockquote]

[Purnip]

Raeterith and Rhysia were no exception. Sereldeth didn't want anyone other than her human and the occasional visit from Isaath anywhere about her Sands. But the duo were hellbent on keeping their promise to protect their future. As close as they could get, while remaining just outside the Gold's parameters, the Greenpair also provided extra ground security for the clutch. It was the most present the two have ever been since they have joined The Weyr. They did leave in the late afternoon to rest, but they spent much of the night and morning providing an extra couple pair of eyes for their Queen.

That night, Raeterith and Rhysia were just returning to their usual post when the Green paused. Her rider, seated on her back, wondered why yet held her tongue to listen closely. There! That was it. A hum. It was growing louder before the woman realized that her dragon was joining in. Rhysia started to hum as well, though hers was lost to the more steely sounds of the dragons'. It was just what they have all been waiting so eagerly for. The Greenrider gave her dragon a pat and suggested that they get a good place to watch from, but Raeterith didn't move right away. Perhaps we should continue our sentinel work instead. Everyone's eyes will be on the clutch, but who will watch the parameter?

Raeterith made a good point. Her rider sighed and resigned to that thought. "Yeah, I guess you're right." It was an awful shame, really. Rhysia loved to watch Hatchings and this one was probably the most important one yet. Still, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if one of the infected broke through the crowd and attacked the young. "It's times like these when I wish I had a flitter."

Or you may go, if you wish. I can stay out here and watch the spectators. Sereldeth will make sure they don't draw in too close, I'm sure.

It was a pretty tough decision, actually. Rhysia hated to part from her dragon. It was far harder to do these days, with the ever imposing thought that she could lose Raeterith. She wished to lose no one else. "Nah, It's alright. I'm sure I'll get the play-by-play from somebody. I'd rather be with you anyways." Patting the dragon lovingly on the neck, Raeterith rumbled with appreciation. But the Green knew that her rider really did want to see the hatching, so perhaps they could solve both issues if they could find a nice, tall perch to watch from. There was one ledge nearer to the Sands. Sereldeth never allowed them to get that close before, but perhaps she'd make an exception today. We can try the southern ledge. From there we can watch the hatching and have a clear view of the crowd.

The Greenrider glanced about as the people started to gather, taking in her dragon's suggestion before making her decision. "Alright. Alright! Maybe Sereldeth won't mind tonight. She knows we've got the best intentions, right?" Or at least she hoped so. Raeterith fanned out her wings to move some of the people away before she took off towards that ledge, making an arch over the Gold to keep a distance on the way over. The Green landed daintily on the perch and made herself comfortable. If Sereldeth had any issue with their presence, she would take off. It was as simple as that.

But now they had a clear view of everything, just as Raeterith said. Granted, the edges of the crowd were a little obscure from this vantage point, but by now the duo was so entranced by the clutch and the spectacle that they nearly forgot about their self-appointed jobs. "I hope we've got enough good Candidates," Rhysia muttered to herself, hoping she was early. There were hardly any lined up--far less than forty. That, and these weren't the typical Candidate stock. Candidates were chosen. They were specially selected because of their likelihood of Impression. This group was collected from anyplace, only discriminated by age and barely so. Some of them wouldn't have it in them. What would happen then? A lot of dragonets would go between, that's what. The Greenrider would have bitten her nails if she weren't wearing gloves. Raeterith might have tried to help shed the worry, but she too was feeling the same about this Hatching. There should have been about twice as many Candidates as there were eggs. Now...now there was likely to even be less than forty of them available. Perhaps a surprise guest in the crowd would find themselves with a youngling. It was a better fate than disappearing altogether.

-------------------

The sound of humming that pierced the air was the first to stir the red-head from his light sleep. He opened his eyes and sat up in his bed immediately, swinging his legs over the side and on his feet in seconds. Then he went still, trying to dissect this sound for what it meant. Not long ago, the Candidates were informed that dragons started to hum when a clutch was about to hatch, but Turlough first interpreted it as an alarm. He was about to dash out of this place and leave The Weyr behind for all that it was worth. His life had to be spared from harm. He was all that was left of his family, so he needed to live on for them, even if it meant betraying his own alliances. But alas, this was no alarm. It didn't sound like the humming he had expected; the humming of a tune was melodic and soft. Instead it sounded like metal grinding in controlled measures, as if one was trying to play a steel violin. The boy took a few weightless steps towards his window to the outside, wishing to peek at whatever might be stirring. Panic would make all the difference in the world. If he detected enough of it, he would be gone by morning.

Instead, his query was answered by the call of the Weyrwoman--a call he hardly recognized. He turned to listen, and his suspicions were cleared. There was no danger. Tonight the dragonets would hatch. Turlough's breathing became steadier as he continued to hesitate. He was prepared to leave these noble people behind to save his own hide, but at this Hatching he was risking his life nonetheless. He had never seen a young dragon, but judging by the sizes of the larger ones, he worried they would easily overpower him. And there were forty of them, all clustered before him. Or they would be. And he had several nightmares in the past about a Hatching gone wrong. The dragonets would be just as ravenous as the VT infected, storming out of their shells and taking up the Candidates as meals rather than lifemates. He still had a chance to run. He could just walk away, or pretend to have slept through it. Then he wouldn't be taking the risk and if those dragonets were rabid, he would still be alive and well. If they weren't, he could just wait for the next hatching.

But he found himself moving for his stack of neatly folded clothing anyways. Turlough was tired of running. That was why he settled here in the first place. He wanted to fight back and get a chance to do what the rest of his family couldn't--get even. If the dragonets were rabid, at least he would have faced up to his fears. He might still live with all that cunning in his soul or the smarts in his brain. But he didn't want to hide away anymore. That wasn't living.

He only had less than a sevenday's worth of clothing, mostly donated to Candidates by refugees who supported The Weyr's cause in exchange for shelter. The robes were makeshift, so he was told, hardly looking as elegant as the traditional white robes worn in the past. He only thought them strange for the appearance. Turlough had only seen a man in a robe once in his life, and he was a harper who had lost his wife went out in a blaze of glory to save himself, his cousin, and a few other children he took in during the worst of it all. On him, the off-white robe was a little large, but he didn't note the difference before he left his quarters to join the flood of Candidates in the halls.

The Barracks weren't luxurious at all. They were just short of being tents pitched up by travelers. Turlough only briefly wondered if he would ever see his room again. Would he Impress at this Hatching? He still had his doubts. But noting that there were far fewer Candidates than there ought to have been, he started to think he just might end up being settled for.

They were being lead to the pyre, or the place Turlough visited before any Candidate with the suspicion that the infected may have invaded. The great Gold that was Sereldeth protected her clutch like a fantastical dragon protects riches beyond ones wildest dreams. And the ginger boy reacted no differently than a Bilbo Baggins. He was respectful yet determined to come away with something, despite the fear that the mother commanded. Once he entered the circle of fire, he paused to bow to Sereldeth, remembering that it was customary to do so. He tended to remember whatever manners were necessary to keep ones own head, if the Gold took rudeness as an ultimate insult. He didn't say anything however. Turlough wasn't sure what to say to her, or if she cared to hear his puny voice at all. Obediently he allowed himself to be lead to a position before the eggs, just far enough to give the dragonets some walking room but close enough to make the red-head nervous. When more boys were brought here, he would have to make sure he still had an exit. With crowds gathering just outside the circle however, he might have been cut off. This was it then. If they meant to feast on the Candidates, he would be a side dish after all. Turlough clenched his fists and warily eyed the eggs that shook the most. All they had to do was hatch healthy young dragons and he would relax. He just didn't want to be torn apart by ravenous zombie lizards. Who would?

[Lan]

A great hum was her first alarm. Immediately Elana looked away from what she was doing, usually almond-shaped eyes now wide with surprise. That sound... it was a sound that the smith's daughter had never heard in her life, but if such a commotion was coming from the dragons she knew it had to be something important. She dropped the thin sheet of metal she was working with and her trusted hammer and moved out into the corridor. What happened next, she couldn't quite process all at once.

A bellowing scream came from Avine, the Weyrwoman and last Goldrider on Pern. Hatching... Suddenly Elana's feet were carrying her away, faster and faster, until everything around her seemed like a blur. Her eyes couldn't focus, and her gaze kept moving and moving as she made her way to where the sands were supposed to be. The chill in the air made red marks on her cheeks as she pushed herself to get there faster. It seemed the sands came upon her without warning. Blinking her eyes, she found herself there... in the midst of torches and dark and stormy caverns. The giant Gold form of Sereldeth toward over her brood with her rider at her side, and beneath her dire gaze rocked the eggs of her handsome clutch.

Cautiously, Elana stepped inside the circle of fires that had kept the eggs warm for so many sevendays. Once there, her courage caught up with her. She took a breath, her light brown eyes reflecting the flames around her as she gazed hopefully at the eggs in the clutch. Continuing to breathe as controlled as possible, she turned to Sereldeth and her rider and gave a polite bow, then made her way circumspectly into the position around the eggs that all candidates would take. It was frightening, to say the least. She, like all others, had heard about the bronze that had sired this clutch. Would the young dragonets develop normally? Since they were rocking, Elana took it as a good sign.

Still, there was some shadow of a doubt in the back of her mind that they might not choose her. She was not searched properly like some of the other candidates. Mostly she was just chosen out of those living at The Weyr and Weyr Hold that were of the age for candidacy because there had been a need. Also, she noticed with a sigh, she was not necessarily dressed for the occasion. Her clothes, one of the few sets she had, were covered in ash and soot with some holes in the elbows and the knees and her face would certainly be soiled as well by her work. But who was dressed for any bright occasions anymore? She doubted anyone could say they had much to present. Elana had just as good a chance as any. So she stood tall and waited, her gaze never leaving the eggs sprawled out before her.

---

Calin hadn't necessarily noticed the hum of the dragons. He was in the kitchens, snooping about and pretending like he was helping when really he was just chatting up those that worked there. Carrying a jug of water from one end of the kitchens to the other, he flashed a grin at every worker there, female and male alike, and talked about pretty much anything that came to mind. Both Klah and Spinner were with him now, Spinner curling atop the jar he was carrying and making a great show of herself while Klah took his normal spot atop Calin's shoulders. He was quite the showman, occasionally acting as if he might topple over from the weight of what he was carrying only to find his hold on it again and continue with what he was doing. This, of course, made Spinner furious, but Calin only laughed it off. Though she chittered away her disapproval, Klah gave one bark and she silenced herself. Still, she curled her head back to her neck and her eyes whirled irritably.

Perhaps it was his firelizards that gave him the first clue. Klah began humming, as deep as his tiny throat would let him, and Spinner too had found herself suddenly less irritable and more prone to polite, melodious sound. Calin set the jug down in its desired spot and pondered over this. While Spinner was a bit fickle in temper, she had never really hummed like that before. He looked around, seeing the expectant faces of the cooks and the drudges working there, and tried to piece together what was happening. Suddenly, like a ton of bricks, it hit him. The eggs! They must be hatching! He hooted excitedly and grabbed a random drudge, spinning her around as if to dance with her. Upon the stop of their spin, he held both of her hands and grinned happily at her with normally dark gray eyes beaming with delight. She looked not too much older than him, certainly young enough to be a candidate on the sands.

"C'mon... we have to go! No time to waste!" He laughed as he took off at a spring, pulling her along like an unwilling ragdoll behind him. If she complained or tried to pull away, he hardly notice. He may be slight in build, but a fisherman's and a sailor's strong muscles hid in his sinewy arms. Together, whether she was willing or not, they bolted out of the kitchen and corrider-by-corrider the boy dragged her out to sands. Once there, he stopped just before the circle of fires that kept the eggs warm and glanced back at his new acquaintance. She wasn't the prettiest girl he'd ever met, but he wasn't really any females anyway so it really didn't matter to him. She was going to be a friend. He had decided. With a smirk, he pulled her closer to him to point out a girl already on the sands.

"See her?" he whispered like a secret, yet still made sure his voice was loud enough to be heard over the humming. "She's a friend of mine... my sister, of sorts. Go stand by her and she'll take care of you, I promise," with a wink, he added, "She's good at that."

With one more flash of a grin, he crossed the line of fire and was finally to the point where the Gold Sereldeth could see them. Still smiling, he gave a deep and almost showy bow that lasted a bit longer than the others, and then slipped over to one side of the sands where one boy was already standing, never looking back to see if the woman had followed his instructions or not. She probably wouldn't Calin knew, as she would probably just want to watch. But he wanted to shove her in the right direction, anyway. The boy next to him looked nervous, Calin thought as he sidled up next to him quite closer than was polite considering the lack of candidates thus far. While his gray eyes never stopped scanning the eggs, he leaned over to his peer and spoke in hushed tones.

"Expecting zombies, round two?" While the content was a bit morbid, it was pleasant like a joke. He nudged the kid next to him with his elbow and smiled that boyish smile of his. It was true, it was the fear that was on everyone's mind. A race of zombified lizards terrorizing the Weyr was certainly Calin's idea of a worst-case-scenario. But they seemed to be rocking okay... well, as well as a first-time candidate might expect. Calin wasn't sure what hatching were supposed to look like. They probably didn't keep the eggs warm with fires, that's for sure. "Hey... don't worry about it. What will come will come. This is supposed to be a joyous occasion, right?" At that the boy fell silent, now devoting all his energy on watching the eggs as, one by one, they began to shake with the life trying to burst out from inside of them.

[Lirael]

Evia had been trying to coax Tamrith into coming out of the water, but the little Green was having none of it. She turned her head away willfully, and continued to splash happily in the lake. Her rider crouched down on the bank, knowing that Tamrith would be impossible to deal with until she'd gotten this out of her system. A gust of cold air blew Evia's dark hair out of her face, and she pulled her flight leathers tighter around her. As she sat uncomfortably in the cold, Tamrith slowly raised her nose high, looking backwards at Evia over her own spine. Fissures and cracks, no going back.

There was a strange sort of smile in the dragon's mental voice. Evia smiled herself, thinking that. She was used to Tam's odd way of thinking leaking over into her head. And to her seemingly nonsensical exclamations. The woman stood, then waded over to her partner. Shells, it's cold today. She laid a hand on the Green's neck, savouring the touch. "Come on, you. Time to go." This time, Tamrith willingly trotted out of the water, and then... that was when Evia heard the humming. She didn't need a moment to work out what was going on, she knew from experience. She only paused to look at her waifish little dragon, wondering for the hundredth time why it was that natural behaviour just didn't come naturally to her. Evia mentally shook herself. What did it matter. She loved Tamrith with every inch of her heart, and nothing would ever change that.

It was Tamrith who shook her rider out of her reverie. She spread her wings and looked at her lifemate. Time to go! She happily echoed the words that had been spoken just a moment earlier. Evia swung herself up onto the Green's back, and the pair took of to the Hatching Sands, finding an out-of-the-way place to observe without disturbing anyone.

--------------

Daromir had taken to sleeping in his boots, fully clothed, a precautionary measure he was glad of when the Weyrwoman's yell jerked him out of dreamland. Perhaps not the cleanliest of measures, but he didn't want to be caught off guard. He'd wanted to be prepared, ready to go the instant he was certain the Hatching had begun. Another thing he had done to prepare himself concerned his clothing. The young man didn't have a set of Candidate robes, so he had sewn a white patch to the shoulder of his jerkin, out of respect for the tradition. And now, as he sprinted towards the clutch, he was glad that he'd taken the time to prepare.

He entered the Hatching Sands at a run. Once he stopped hurtling forwards, he steadied himself, remembering a little of what his mother had told him when he was young and she was still alive. He gazed at Sereldeth, who was quite terrifying and resplendent on this most important of occasions. Lowering his eyes, he bowed to her, and murmured "Thank you for this honour." Most likely the glorious Queen wouldn't be paying any attention to him, but it calmed his nerves.

It was only then, as he stepped towards the other Candidates, that he dared look at the clutch. He had avoided the Sands since he had arrived, waiting until now to see what he had dreamed of all his life. And it was truly a beautiful sight. All those wonderfully coloured eggs. In the firelight, Daromir thought that perhaps it was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. And some of them were already rocking! And look- even a crack!

But always at the back of his mind was the fear that this seemingly perfect moment could at any time be replaced by something terrible. So may things could go wrong. For starters, there was the lack of Candidates. Barely half of the eggs would have even a chance of Impressing, it seemed. There simply weren't enough people to Stand. And then there was the underlying, always-present threat of the Hatchlings being infected. Zombie dragonets. That was something that the Weyr could not easily recover from, if at all. However, Daromir was determined to remain optimistic. He pushed these worries to the back of his mind. He couldn't dispel them, but he could think positive thoughts and hope for the best.

He ran a hand through his light, wavy hair. There were some familiar faces in the crowd- well, everyone was vaguely familiar, but he recognised a couple of people he'd talked to over the last few weeks. Perhaps he should go over to one of them? Dar clasped his sister's necklace in both hands, wishing that she could be here to see this. But there was no point dwelling on the past. He moved further into the huddle of Candidates, deciding that he would stop with anyone who first talked to him.

[Cy]

[/i] that obnoxious sound? It grated like the grind of smith metal and it vibrated in his chest. Fortunately, it faded off and he released a heavy sigh of relief before the shrieking call of a woman replaced it. His brows knit together in confusion as he slid his head out from under the pillow, picking it up to look blindly to the direction of the door. His hair stood in disarray, straight up on one side and flattened down on the other. Did she say Hatching? The cold hiss of a fierce mother crept straight into his mind, a sound not easily ignored at all, and it cleared up his confusion in a heartbeat. The eggs were hatching. Fantastic.

He'd grown up with a tendency of shirking responsibility, shrugging off hard work and labour – but if there was an obligation that couldn't be avoided, it was standing for a Hatching, regardless of whether he'd been properly searched or not. He was, for all intents and purposes, a candidate. Pern was dying and this clutch symbolized a revival, a new generation to help return the old to its former glory. He had the sense to know that, of course, and he had the bearing to recognize that the possibility of Impressing to such high hopes was not an opportunity that he could allow to slide by. He'd be an idiot and Kierbin, eldest son of Jakier and Binala, was no idiot.

It didn't stop him from grumbling as he stumbled out of bed, rubbing the heel of his palm against one sleepy eye as he tugged on clothes. He paid little mind to them, ignoring the wrinkles and rips and simply stuffing the laces into his boots because he didn't wish to waste the seconds it would take to tie them properly. And then he was on his way, long legs carrying him smoothly to the sands, the cold of crisp night air changing abruptly to the toasty hug of the cavern that housed the massive clutch of Gold Sereldeth. If any sleep had lingered in his eyes, it was effortlessly dashed away as his gaze widened and fell upon the rocking eggs, one already cracking open in its impatience to see the world. In robotic movements, he bowed, a shallow and quick gesture before he was sliding off to the side to stand beside Calin, his attentions still firmly held by the clutch even while he discreetly leaned over to knock his elbow against his friend's in greeting. “Fun times, huh?” He muttered quietly.

---

In a burst of limbs and a girlish shriek, Baila literally fell out of her room, crashing to the floor, her palms smacking against the ground and her knees scraping. However, there was no time to waste on checking if she was truly hurt or not, so she ignored the sting and throb and giggled instead, twisting around to sit as she pulled up a leg to finish tugging on her boot. In swift jerks, she tied the laces into a sloppy knot before she was pushing herself up to her feet to take off towards the sands at a smooth lope. In the meantime, she gathered up her hair at the back of her head to tie it off with string, though more of it seemed to continue to fall loose about her shoulders rather than caught. Oh well, she didn't have time for that either. There was a Hatching! Avine had told them to hurry and Sereldeth had warned them as well. She didn't wish to disappoint either of them, and it would be such a shame to escape zombies only to still be gobbled up because she couldn't be on time. Such, such, such a shame.

The heat of the cavern from the torches was a pleasant relief from the cold outside of it, though it swiftly grew uncomfortable as it settled beneath her bulky coat and lay along the back of her neck. She took steady breaths to calm her nerves as she glanced around, relieved to find that, though others had already gathered, she was still decently on time. She looked over the eggs, both cracked and rocking and stationary, before lifting her wide eyes up to the magnificent mother responsible for them all. “I'm honoured,” she whispered impulsively, quiet voice laden with respect and naïvety, before she crossed a leg behind her and lowered and bent, offering up an awkward and curious blend of both bow and curtsy. As she straightened up, she offered a beaming grin to the queen and then to the rider before turning to glide off to stand in line, squeezing herself into a spot that offered a clear view of the clutch. Arms straight at her sides, she crossed her fingers and bounced on her toes, biting anxiously at her lip. She'd spent so long asking questions about candidacy and hatchings and how to behave and what happened and Impressing and riding and all those fantastical things that surely every child thought about at some point, lessons from before the Ending Fall swirling about vividly in her inquisitive skull, and now it was all about to transpire.

She was so mind-numbingly happy.[/ul][/size]

[Kitty]

Kira sat up with a start from her bed, hearing an odd sort of hum. It didn't sound like singing or any instrument she had heard of, and her best comparison was a very out of tune string instrument of some kind. She brushed her hair out for a moment, trying to figure out what she was missing. She looked down at her cat, who was pawing at her and mewing constantly. "Shh, shh, kitty, it's fine. What's the problem kitty?" She looked down at her pet, scratching her behind one of her ears and trying to hold her in her arms. The feline only kept pacing despite the attention and looked very jumpy, almost like she did when she was around any of the other candidates' fire lizards.

Her head snapped up at the sound of a woman yelling. The Hatching! She almost fell out of bed, pushing her pet aside as she hastily hopped up and pulled on the clothes she had set aside for the occasion. They were still woefully inadequate, consisting of a mostly white blouse and loose, light brown pants, but considering that she had come with nothing except her cat and the clothes on her back it was better than nothing. She pulled on her everyday worn out boots and hastily attempted to brush out the knots that had formed in her hair while she was sleeping.

As she was doing so, the humming seemed to grow slightly louder, or she had become more aware of it as she was hastily waking up to the cold of the night. She finally had to settle for smoothing her hair down and picked up Jade from where she was trying to twine around her ankles. "I'm sorry, but you've got to stay here," she assured the cat, setting her down on the bed. "I know you really don't like all the fire lizards and dragons and where I'm going will be packed with them. I'm not sure if any of them would realize you're not food either so you can't come along." After checking quickly that she had everything she needed she ran out into a hall at almost a sprint. She couldn't miss the Hatching, she couldn't miss the Hatching...

She ran across very few people on her way to the sands. Apparently they were either still sleeping or had been faster than her to get to the important event. She almost tripped twice as her boots were a bit too big for her but she managed to reach the ring of fire and the large clutch of rocking and cracking eggs. She stood for a moment, trying to remember what she was supposed to do next, when she saw one of the other candidates bow to the queen dragon. Of course. She stepped forward, giving the best bow she could manage to the humongous creature.

Kira moved back afterwards, feeling slightly nervous now that the eggs were in full sight. She had been quite confident before that she would be impressed but now she had a bit of doubt. After all she hadn't been Searched at all; she had come because of her childhood hope of having her own dragon and because she had no other place to go. What if she wasn't worthy for some reason? What if not having the proper clothing meant that she would be completely ignored or worse, run over by the hatchlings as they went to their true mates? She shook her head slightly and looked over at the other female candidates beside her. They weren't dressed that well either- in fact she didn't see anyone except maybe one boy who was wearing proper attire. From what she had seen of the others she was just as "worthy" as them, if not more so. Most had been in similar situations to her, coming because there was a need of those who were of age. And then there were so many eggs- how would not even one imprint on her? She had all the chances that everyone else had and she knew she was worthy.

One doubt remained in her mind as she stood next to the other candidates but she pushed it to the back of her mind. So what if the dragons' sire had been infected? It might have been a minor case and not infected the offspring. Even if they came out ravenous for something other than a permanent bond and animal flesh she wouldn't care. She only had Jade left for her and though she certainly wouldn't go down without a fight she didn't really care. She had been lucky enough to avoid VT the first time and surely it had affected her enough. This was her dream. She wasn't about to give it up now because of some doubtful doubt.

[Jack]

The sweet sound of low rumbling--like ocean waves rolling easily across the coast--was suddenly a very prominent part of his dreams... Bambi wasn't sure why, particularly, but he smiled in his sleep as he imagined the great blue sea, its endless depths swaying in dance to a music that only it could hear. He hummed along with it, the tune taking form behind closed eyes, and let loose a pleased sigh, his ethereal self rising to dance with it moments before the waves crashed in a high scream of a voice.

Bambi jumped into waking at the gold words that sliced into his peaceful dreams, and with wide eyes he whipped his head around the empty room he had shared with a young ex-herder...a boy who was quite gone at the moment. Confused, he listened for a moment to the lingering sound of waves, a noise he quickly realized was not the familiar tune he was hoping for. For a moment, a frown crossed his features and he shrunk in his furs, brows knit in displeasure and a rare sense of depression writhing across his features. But all at once there was a hand on his shoulder, and intense eyes blazing into his, and he was pulled out of the bed and into movement.

The Candidate that sternly dragged him from bed lingered for only a moment, pulling the white robe over the young man's head before--all at once--he disappeared in a flurry of his own white robes. Bambi, mouth agape, darted after the mysterious youth, following the flickers of white around corners with near desperate confusion.

He caught a glimpse of scarred flesh when he wheeled around the next corner, and of blue-grey eyes that stared sternly into his. All at once he realized that this supposed "candidate" was merely a man in white, a handsome fellow in his late twenties who stared down at him as though he knew everything in the world. Hardships and heartbreak were written as plainly as his scars across his face, tainting his features and giving him a look of wisdom and time-born ferocity. A lop-sided smile, tired and clearly unaccustomed to twisting on the man's face, curled upon the fellow's lips...and in a flurry of motion he was gone. Bambi darted after him, but he was gone completely--the Sands standing before him.

The youth swallowed, suddenly wary of the desert before him, and nearly took a step back at the unfamiliar taste of anxiety that rolled in his chest. But he shook himself free of the fear with a hum, and with a forced smile that grew into a natural one, he shuffled quickly to join the other Candidates, taking a long moment to bow before the Queen. His eyes glittered with eager happiness as he smiled at her, and an odd flicker of purpose shone in them. For some unknown reason, he felt so...so...eager to get on with life! To get on with it and be useful--to take a place in this world and guard it with all his ability.
He smiled again, and tilted his head before taking his place in the line. I look forward to it.

--

There was a restless look in L'natic's eyes as he strode purposefully into the stands above the makeshift hatching Sands, a feral flash in his stare that rolled and twisted like snakes as he worked his jaw and set his hands upon the railing. Long, artistic, clever fingers curled insistently around the metal, clenching it gently against his palms as he knit his brows and peered down at the Queen, her eggs, and the Candidates lined up like lovely dominoes before them. Behind him, Bravesth settled like a Blue mountain, his head lifted high above the world and his eyes whirling a patient shade of blue gray as he dug his claws gently into the stone and flared his nostrils.

"I do wonder what will happen.." L'natic rumbled at last, licking his lips with a swipe of his tongue before a finger abruptly flicked at the glasses perched delicately upon his nose. They glinted in the light, the bronze of their frames reluctantly shining as well before going dull once more. "A mauling would be rather lovely, don't you agree?" There was a rare lack of amusement in his voice as he spoke, but it was clear from his narrowed gaze and the pure distaste in his tone, that he was far from as enthused as he would like to think he was.

I could not say. Bravesth replied in that low, serious voice of his, This will be a very unique Hatching, but beyond that I know not.
"I hope something dies." The words dripped like venom from his mouth, and his lips curled into a sneer as he bared his teeth and hissed, wheeling around for a moment to press his back against the rail. His arms were crossed over his chest now, brows knit in annoyance and hackles raised unseen beneath his jacket.
You do not. The Blue stated matter-of-factly, nearly dead-panning as he kept his eyes sternly upon the Sands. But regardless, death may indeed happen... Strong eyes glanced over the shaking eggs, narrowing as their whirling sped up insistently, No Hatching such as this comes without its consequences.
L'natic snorted...but turned around and faced the Sands once more, his eyes clearly acknowledging his dragon's words as he gripped the railing once more.

---

Often the last to arrive, it was no shock to see the incandescent shine of Moth's wings so long after the majority had settled into their spots. But it was hard not to look up in mild shock or amazement nonetheless, her delicate frame gliding so listlessly into place a stark contrast to the eager feel of this desperately-needed Hatching. Slowly, as though she had all the time in the universe to arrange herself, she sailed effortlessly through, landing almost reluctantly at a suitable perch. Gracefully, she strode to the best place available to her and laid slowly down, coiling her long tail carefully around herself and folding her wings perfectly across her spine. Only after Moth had settled enough to be comfortable did A'ku move, his eyes dull and bored as he slid from his dragon's side and peered around him.

So few riders...so many less than he had remembered in witnessing the Hatchings in the past. It was one of many reminders of how this world had changed in the past few Turns, and how much it would certainly change again in the Turns to come. Dark brows knit as A'ku frowned, moving reluctantly to the railing to peer at the eggs below. They shook as eggs should shake...there wasn't much else to that and with a soft huff, A'ku withdrew to glance at Moth. She seemed considerably more interested in the goings on below, her eyes glittering and flashing as she stared. A sigh slid seamlessly from the man's lips and he ran a hand through his hair, turning his attention to the spectators around him.

...L'natic.
He frowned again, and his nostrils flared as he reluctantly folded his arms over the railing and slumped there.
There was no chance in all of Pern that he would say two words to the manic healer--he'd rather watch his own hand be sliced off.
...which was a definite possibility with that crazy wherrybrain around.

[Lesa]

Gwynell sipped at her mug of klah with a soft sigh of appreciation. Good klah, properly sweetened. Not the ‘chug-down-the-bitter-stuff-to-keep-up-with-four-Turn-olds’ klah, like back at home. Could she call it home? Didn’t count, not fully. Her parents were at Fort still, in the Hall; they still counted as home to her, especially with her so lucky to still have them. The klah was back at camp, then, she supposed. Could call it camp, since it had been a camp of sorts, a meeting area of tents and their small cavern in the Hold, their little field now taken over.
She shoved the thought of men ruthlessly undoing their neat and tidy rows for the paths being too thin for their larger, grown up frames to get through, regardless of the fact that more rows meant more food, especially with the plants all sprouting. Their poor tubers! – and next spring they would have had their first crop of orange fingerlings! Hard to think about all the children’s hard work coming to nothing. At least even with all their work going to ruin, she could be happy about something.

They all had homes. Sure, some of them didn’t precisely have a family to live with, but they were now proudly the largest pack of weyrbrats, helpful and being helped. She’d been worried about that, what would happen if she or Mackenzie or Aliman left, or got Searched, or what have you. She’d gotten Searched. And quite possibly drove her Searchpair crazy with demands.

They’d come through, the blond was happy to remember, getting down to the still-bitter dregs at the bottom of her klah mug, accepting her group for no other reason than that the Weyr needed all those in her group over ten to stand as Candidates and it would be cruel to leave those younger than that behind, without those they had come to rely on. The Harper turned to sweet Maisa, the six-Turn old giggling as she was gently bopped on the head with the clay mug before taking it in little hands and dropping it in the sink to wash it.

Gwynell smiled at the dark-haired girl with a blue firelizard clinging to her shoulder who was working rapidly on a mound of bread dough, pushing and pulling and kneading, taking the space next to the unknown and pulling her own hunk of dough out of the bowl. This had been the second rising for both doughs, so once worked and formed into pans or loaves they could be placed in the oven. Her small hands, more accustomed to field and instrument and pen felt lost and sticky amid the gooey dough, even covered in flour as it was. The girl beside her gave a small smile back, working with sharp, quick movements. If the girl hadn’t been a Baker before everything ended, she had certainly developed a knack, Gwynell thought.

Her hair hung in a lank, sweat-damp braid to her backside, bumped, as she was, by people going by. Only sweaty because of the ovens and fires going – if she had been elsewhere in the Weyr, Gwynell knew she would be cool and feeling clean: her first bathing not in a river in a Turn had been amazing. She turned her head to her shoulder, awkwardly attempting to shove her spectacles back up her nose, to halt their rapid slide down into bread dough without defeating the purpose of the move by using dough-covered hands to shove her spectacles back up.
Then there was a sound, both comforting and painful. Comforting since the metal-on-metal reminded her of smithing, of going to her Grampa and Gramma’s and hearing her Grampa and her uncles work metal, turning iron into useful or pretty (usually both) objects, and going into the forge to watch the bright sparks and cringing, laughing, at the slam of hammer on metal. Comforting since the sound also reminded her of any number of Apprentices attempting to tune their gitars and failing, the hustle and bustle of the Hall as Masters and Journeymen corrected them.

Painful as the metal-on-metal made her think of her friends and family dying from VT and Ending Fall, painful as it simply hurt her ears. She winced lightly at the sound, familiar-yet-not, comforting-yet-not. She winced until the sounds of the firelizards in the kitchens made her realize what was going on. Then she was too busy moving to wince, slinging her kneaded dough into a pan to be placed in the oven, leaning over Maisa to wash the dough off her hands then making her way out of the kitchens, grabbing all of her gang that she could find who were eligible to stand. The young woman looked hastily down at her clothing, clean-ish as it was, it would have to do. Better by far than her other set of clothing, still drying on the end of her bed. The shirt to this set was too large and more grey than white, sleeves tied up with bits of string like the Lady Holders used to do to their sleeves, poofing the fabric around the string for an artful look. Hers merely kept the sleeves out of the dough as it had kept them out of the soil. Dirtstains still darkened the knees of her pants, belted tightly to keep them from falling off her thinner-than-a-Turn-ago frame. Boots would do, scuffed, but whose weren’t?

She nodded, gaze going over the young ones in front of her dressed much as she was, wiping a smudge of soot off Caspa’s cheek before beginning to move, the five following like trundlebugs in her wake. As the six approached the ring of pyres and the Sands beyond she slowed, peering through the flame-fueled gloom to make out the form of dragon and rider and assembled Candidates. Stepping past the fiery ring she bowed, right leg back in a half-curtsey. Her peripheral vision made out her charges – for they were still hers at this last moment – bowing and curtseying themselves as she straightened. The shyer boys all went towards the familiar form of Aliman, while Caspa stayed where he was, watching the proceedings with wide eyes. Utoli and Kella followed Gwynell over to where Mackenzie stood, the Harper smiling tensely at her second-in-command.

Gwynell would protect her charges, should it turn out the dragonets were zombies. She liked to hope they weren’t, but if they were… she’d kept her charges safe up until now. She’d be damned if she failed them at the moment of greatest victory for all of Pern – the moment where all their lives would be saved, or doomed.

-

Halbert huffed, staring at the Food-place, where She was. He wasn’t allowed in! LittleWings were allowed in, but he wasn’t, it as a travesty! He licked at a paw, showing his disdain at such treatment before stalking off to find somewhere to curl up for a nap. Hard to find a place here that was soft and quiet. All the quiet places were rocky ground, and the soft places had all sorts of Humans. He didn’t mind Humans, but a lot of these seemed to think he was going to attack them; kept throwing rocks. Stupid Humans. He wouldn’t bite Humans, they tasted bad, and it made Her mad at him. Sure, he’d bitten and clawed at EvilFishMan – but EvilFishMan had hurt LittlePetters on the boat, throwing them into BigWater and tried to attack Her, full of Matesmell when She smelt of Anger and Fear. Not right to have Matesmell when the other didn’t have Matesmell, so he’d attacked.

He got praised for that, but that was the only time, and he knew it. He wouldn’t bite anyone here. He just wanted to find a place to curl up and – ow! He certainly looked possessed, leaping straight up in the air, a snarl twisting his muzzle, landing as a mass of unpleased spots. That sound hurt! The feline stalked away full of wounded dignity and pride. Only the sight of Her rushing towards the nexus of the PainfulSound caused him to stop, and reassess. Maybe the PainfulSound was good? Hmm. The Meat he suddenly began smelling certainly was good. He moved back towards the location of the PainedSound, amber eyes wide and pleading. Meat for him? Please?

--

She knew C’fael would be mad at her. He’d say she was overworking herself. It was true, she was. In attempts to forget – just forget – forget about the nightmares that had started again, forget about the tremors that wracked her on seeing many of the new arrivals, forget that she had screamed on seeing C’fael – C’fael! yesterday. Medusa could admit even to herself that she was no longer any form of normal. Everything was back, all her nervousness, all her twitches and ticks and memories. Everything, just toned down, so only those who knew her would notice.

Was in part why she buried herself into work. Working prevented things from showing as much, work prevented her from seeing C’fael, stopped her from being ordered to bed again. There was too much to do, and C’fael knew it. Her health was already bad, sure, working this hard would make it worse. But working this hard meant that the dreams were just dreams, not nightmares sending her screaming. Of course, so many screamed in night-terrors that her own were mostly ignored, for which she was grateful. Dark hair was raked with tiny talons as Phoibos crooned at her, sensing her frantic emotions.

Gentle hands caressed the blue perched on her shoulder, she dodging a woman carrying in supplies before scooping up her intended target of rising dough and making her way back to the counter. Two bowls of dough, ready to be formed. Plain bread these would make, part of the continual cycle of non-stop breadmaking in order to feed everyone. Plain was liked by all, no added spices or fruit or anything, just bread, able to be used to do all sorts of bread-needing recipes or good on its own with butter or oil.

Breadmaking was something she could do and not get questioned on. Breadmaking was something needed so much, like Healing – but breadmaking kept her away from C’fael. Breadmaking was monotonous and easy, something others would use to think about what they would rather be doing than making bread. Medusa used the time to lose herself in the hustle and bustle of the kitchens, concentrating on others’ conversations while her hands went to work. Her thoughts weren’t ones she wished to be in at the moment, despite how the gooey, sticky, wonderful texture of bread dough featured in none of them. She had never baked before getting to Southern, and since at The Weyr it felts at times as if that was all she did, bake and clean and take care of others. She liked it – kept her too busy to think, except when C’fael arranged sessions for the two of them.

The only thing better than getting lost in her work was getting lost in swordplay, concentrating fully on beating her opponent, not thinking about how she looks, or how the scar on her back pulls when she moves or about how that blond looks – she tore herself away from the thought, the hair of the young woman next to her gleaming in the light. Spectacled eyes smiled at her, that one’s hands slowly starting to work at Medusa’s second lump of dough. That was hers, darn it! Hers to work with, to lose herself in. Wait; she was arguing in her head to do even more work when she knew how easy it was to find work. Then again, breadmaking was fun – and she had already known she was crazy, so the talking to herself didn’t faze the once-Lady Holder.

Phoibos’ grating hum broke her concentration, and Avine’s shout confirmed her initial thought – or perhaps it was both Seleneth and Ansyth telling her separately to get to the Sands. The brown was much kinder about it than Sereldeth, but the gold was delivering her message to all the Candidates, while the brown was just to her. Usa-chan, the eggs are Hatching! Go, little one, go, he encouraged, the hum thrumming through even his mindvoice. Medusa finished her work as she saw the blond-unknown doing the same beside her. The ex-Headwoman passed the finished loaves off to one of the older women to throw into one of the ovens before slabs of meat were laid out to be sliced for dragonets.

A brisk nod was all she gave in response to Calin dragging Aithbhre to the Hatching. Good, his doing so saved her from having to convince the drudge to go. Certainly the other girl wanted to at least watch – though Medusa privately thought that the girl had just as much chance as any of them at Impressing. Who knew, especially with this clutch, what it would take?
She leaned over the little girl washing dishes to clean the remains of flour and dough off her hands, spying under lashes as that blond who had been beside her grabbed at several other younger Candidates, herding them along as Medusa remembered canines doing to cattle. They all must be part of that huge group of ‘brats and Candidates that had come in the past sevenday. That group at least knew how to pull their own weight, for all they were young, a very helpful thing at the full of despondent and mutually lazy people Weyr. The children’s bright energy helped to remind numerous adults that there were things they could be doing besides sitting around bemoaning their fate or that their families died. So had so many others – so had these children’s parents, but they still worked to make Pern a better place. You, a full grown adult, were doing nothing. Medusa hadn’t seen a more effective guilt-trip ever. Secretly she was proud of the group, though she would never tell it to the blond or the other ‘leaders’. Be a bit creepy if she did.

Her dress was good enough – a ruddy brown, dusted with flour, so at least it was somewhat white, here and there. No Candidate robes, really, or very few. She didn’t mind, didn’t need them as she ran over to the Sands. A brisk bow to Sereldeth and a smile to Avine before going to join the crowd. No matter what happened, at least this was something good to remember… for now.

-

C’fael knew something was up. He could practically taste it in the air – something was different. Good different. He was pleased at this, as a good-different thing was infinitely better than a bad-different thing, and they’d been needing a good-different thing for a while now. They’d had a mixed-blessing-different last sevenday with all those Candidates and ‘brats coming in, but that wasn’t good-good. It was good because there were more Candidates, but bad because there were more mouths to feed.

At least, he mused, these mouths did work to get food, they didn’t just expect to get food while doing nothing in return. And that Candidate he thought was going to die on him had healed nicely. Perhaps a little touched in the head now, but still perfectly capable of doing things, just a little slow at doing them at times, and had to count and recount things to make sure he hadn’t miscounted. Little problems compared to how close he came to dying.

The weyrhealer smiled at that thought, rubbing away a headache, or attempting to. For all that it seemed things were going to be good-different, the blond still had quite the headache from overwork. He was the one telling Medusa to stop working, yet he was the one feeling the repercussions of working! He had to laugh at that, at least until Ansyth interrupted him shortly before he heard a woman’s shout, garbled through stone walls. Mine! Babiesbabiesbabiesbabies! Ansyth’s excited babble made little sense, especially from the normally fairly stoic brown, until C’fael’s ears caught up with the rest of him. A hum. A Hatching hum!

Sword-scar marred hands went to the pouch of supplies specially tucked away for just this day, affixing the belt around his waist with hurried movements before striding quick from the Infirmary and making his way to the ‘Sands’. A nod and smile for Avine before rapid application of foot-to-stair netted him a position next to L’natic. Healer regarded Healer for a moment, before C’fael turned his attention back to the Sands below. Both knew this could get ugly – it was their job to prevent it from getting too ugly.
Because something with the potential to be so beautiful could hide such horror underneath.
-

K’nan barely had time to finish bringing in yet another Candidate when the call went out. Timing, it seemed, was to be on his side. He made quick work of placing his latest charge on the Sands before bowing to Sereldeth and grinning openly at Avine. Hatching!

He restrained himself from going over and picking up his ‘sister’ to swing her around in joy. There would be time for that later, when it was assured the Hatching had gone well, when it was over. When they saw what Pern was to become. The blond took a spot low in the stands, away from his dragon – if only for the reason that he saw she had approached her clutch-brother, and where Ansyth was, C’fael was, and where C’fael was, L’natic was. He would get nowhere near L’natic if he could help it. Staying down near the Sands made so much more sense. Better able to see what their Pern was to become.

[Reky]

Avine watched the eggs with bated breath. Inside, her heart was pounding. She was intensely nervous. Even if there were countless things to be excited for and optimistic about, the doubt was setting in. Shouldn't at least one egg be hatched by now? She reminded herself, firmly, that she was being ridiculous, and Sereldeth's previous clutches have taken quite a while for the first dragonet to break free. The wait wasn't abnormal. The small amount of eggs rocking wasn't, either. The quiet ones would just take a little longer to catch on, like always. She swallowed, eyes flicking from the eggs to Sera, who was watching the candidates filing in with cautionary eyes. The gold was far from impressed by the lack of traditional robes, but she was a smart dragon and knew it couldn't be helped. At least the were bowing. Even one of the slimier ones, Xaleni, who she had bad feelings about, put out a bow. Sereldeth thought he was almost mocking her. Avine thought she was crazy. Catching a smile from K'nan made at least one half of the goldpair calm down; Avine offered a nervous smile back.

The light tan egg in the second row that had gained a crack had fallen silent. The dragon inside seemed to be taking a break, which was all fine and dandy. It had been working overtime, after all, shaking that egg like no tomorrow, the first to start. Instead, the title of most violent rocker was taken up a murky blue egg in the row ahead, and egg more spherical than most of its siblings. A crack appeared, and then a small hole, and their was a brief flash of a tiny claw that disappeared again before the colour could be told. Then, the egg promptly tipped to the side, knocking into the mottled blue-green-tan egg besides it, shattered open, and left a gooey little green exposed to the world.

She looked around with wide eyes. Even in the darkness that came with the chilly, falling night, she was a bright creature, a nearly solid pastel yellow-green. The only variance in shade she had was a slight lightening gradient on her tail, which lay still, wrapped around herself. She seemed rather stunned at having broken free of her egg so suddenly. Her great wide eyes soaked in the world around her and, after the shock had subsided, she seemed much calmer and took her first tentative step. It ended well. Pleased with her newfound balance, her eyes whirled a soft blue. She knew what she needed to do now, because she felt it. She didn't bother reading into why - reasons didn't matter. She just knew, and that was good enough for her.

As the pastel green made her way forward at a leisurely pace, the egg she'd knocked into gave a violent jolt. Another green's snout and foreclaw snapped through the shell and, slowly and with difficulty, she extracted herself from the rest of her precious egg. She, too, looked surprised at the new world, but completely in love with it. She looked around at everything with awe in her eyes, mouth agape, tail flicking happily. Her belly was a striking emerald green, her back a darker shade blotched with near-black green. It looked almost like a disease or rash, but the green was big for her size and seemed completely healthy. She moved forward, stumbling because she was looking up instead of where she needed to go, and then set her sights on her sister. Whistling, she almost floated over to the other green, walking on sunshine as she was. She nudged her sister.

The pastel green just looked confused, briefly, and then moved on. She didn't seem to be paying her sister much attention, which resulted in the darker green looking dejected, but inside, her mind was working away. She didn't understand why her sister had nudged her. She didn't really like it, either, but she didn't know why. She didn't care, though. It was all very confusing and upsetting. Having walked quite a ways away from the emerald green, almost at the female candidates, the pastel turned around. It was a violent movement, one in which she also flared her wings and lowered her head. She let out a piercing hiss, eyes whirling red, and made sure to get her unhappy point across to her sister. Then, with that done, she seemed satisfied, calmed down, and looked at the girls. Her mouth opened in something that could only be called a smile.

Completely at ease, the little green parked herself in front of a particularly jittery, excited girl, and let her eyes whirl the rainbow of Impression. Oh, Baila, Baila, Baila-Own. You're Quirinth's now. I don't know why, but you are. 'Why' doesn't really matter, because I love you.

[/i] Her voice was soft and airy like a new spring, exuding calm to Hers. Then, she was quiet, simply enjoying Baila's company. She did love Hers, yes she did.



{bad995} - usually calm and quiet, loving, illogical, prone to unpredictable snapping

The emerald green had forgiven her sister for the hissing after a brief bout of shock and intense confusion. It was okay, she decided. Everything was okay. There were better things to dwell on, anyways. Her eyes turned to one of the many fires that lit the Sands. She knew to stay away from it, for it was hot and dangerous. It sure did look beautiful, though, and she sighed wistfully as she stared at its flickering yellow-orange form. She was subtly aware of a brother of hers hatching from the white-and-tan egg in the row she'd been in, and trilled him a greeting. He replied just as softly, and went about cleaning his sticky-wet navy hide.[/size][/blockquote]

[Lan]

Calin nodded a greeting to Kierbin, too busy watching the eggs to talk now. But he nudged him back with his elbow before focusing wholly on what hatchlings would come out of the large batch of eggs. The tan one stopped rocking just as another one seemed to be picking up violently. Then, as sudden as a storm appears over the ocean, a pastel green made her appearance out of one of the eggs. The boy smiled, mouth agape, as he watched her slowly stand in her little world. She was so... adorable! Yes, she was simply wonderful. Like a larger version of when Spinner had hatched, only she looked far more pleasant and was of a lighter color.

If the other boy next to him had made any comments to his greeting, he paid them no heed. For once, Calin was simply mesmerized. Another green made an appearance, a dark and velvety emerald. She was quite beautiful too. Yet, when she nudged her pastel sister, the lighter one snapped viciously. Maybe she was a lot like Spinner, Calin thought with some amusement. Certainly the random act of irritation declared their likeness. However that was where their comparisons ended. Certainly, the green didn't seem interested in him. She wandered over to the girls, impressing to one that was rather familiar. Maybe he had seen her hanging out with Elana? He wasn't sure. But he had to say he was a little jealous at her having impressed first.

Something else caught his attention as another dragonet sprawled itself on the sands. This one was blue, and a dark blue at that. His hue reminded Calin of the nights spent looking at the stars in the boat with his brother or his father. It seemed content to clean itself, though, and made not a move for the candidates as of yet. Maybe this one would choose him? Calin had no way of knowing. He bit his lip as he pondered over the possibilities contained in all of the other eggs. There were so many, what was the probability one was meant for him? Quite high, since there didn't seem to be as many candidates as eggs. And what if none of the dragonets found him suitable? What a slap in the face that would be. His bite on his lip became harder. That was just stupid. He had brown and green flitters, after all... surely ONE dragon would find him acceptable?

---

Elana's breath caught as the light green dragon, and then the darker green dragon appeared on the sands. They were much more clumsy and yet much more elegant than she would have thought baby dragons to be. Never in her life had Elana really imagined being able to witness a hatching, so she hadn't really fantasized about it all that much. However, if she could have, she would have assumed they were like runnerbeasts being born--sitting there dumbly as they struggled for a long time to find their legs. yet, while they weren't as graceful as their full-grown likenesses, they were amazingly capable creatures from their immediate hatching. It was fascinating and the smith's daughter watched as eager as a scientist to find out more about this young critters.

When the light green snapped at the darker one, Elana was somewhat taken aback. It hadn't struck her fancy to think that dragons would attack their siblings. Certainly, she had heard of candidates being mauled, but she hadn't heard at all about one dragonet being irritated with another. It sort of made sense, though. These forty eggs were, in a sense, siblings. And if in humans there were sibling relationships of all types, it was only logical to assume that there would be different relationships among dragons as well. It seemed like she was learning much even from these two infant dragons that were the only ones she had seen.

After her snippy moment, the pastel green made her way among the female candidates, forsaking the males entirely. Elana's heart beat at a faster rate as the young dragon passed her. But, it was not to be born. It passed her by, continuing on until it looked to Baila, eyes whirling rainbow. The first impression had been made. She smiled at the girl she had been friendly with, genuinely glad for her. It was such a wonderful moment to even be witness to. After she sighed and continue watching the eggs, noting the new dark blue that had come to be on the sands. Would any of these eggs hold a dragon for her? One couldn't say. But, after Baila impressed, she felt oddly hopeful... Even if she felt that, having not been properly searched, the odds were against her. It didn't matter, though. It was a blessing just to be there, alive and watching the future of Pern unfold. If a dragon found her, it would be a happy moment too, but she tried not to get her hopes up too far. She was just the bastard daughter of a smith, with no previous dragon blood running through her lineage as far as she knew.

Still, as more and more eggs rocked on the sands her heart beat at a more and more anxious rhythm. As she watched the little blue she noticed her friend Calin across the sands and smiled at him. He smiled back, in mutual acknowledgment, then both continued watching the eggs. The future was unraveling before their very eyes. This day may, indeed, change the course of events for Pern and for their very lives.

[Purnip]

Every minute flowed into the next like molasses, making an anxious mess out of the red-head who awaited his destiny. Dragonrider or dragonbait? He didn't take notice of any of the other Candidates with his eyes fixed sharply on the swaying eggs. When Calin spoke up to him, he wasn't even aware of his being addressed until the boy lightly elbowed him in jest. Turlough only glanced up for a moment and replied with a concerned hum before he re-focused his attention on the main event. He didn't know this guy, but the red-head did listen to him as he listened to everyone else. Maybe it was supposed to be a joyous occasion, but that was before VT. Now no one could be sure if these younglings had it in them or not. Turlough wished he could fool himself into being optimistic, but it wasn't possible for him to have any success in trying. He was a realistic persona, down to the core. This could be something to celebrate, but he wasn't going to celebrate so soon.

His breathing had slowed considerably, as it held completely whenever an egg gave a jolt or a crack would form on some shell's surface and return in steady huffs. He was pleased so far. He wasn't sure if he could deal with this Hatching for its entire duration if all the eggs erupted instead. Everything was happening at a pace he could keep up to.

A tiny pale green claw poked out of a somewhat spherical egg, which was not even the first to have shaken. The one that had been actually came to a halt as if allowing its sibling to take the stage before it. The egg then tipped into another and fell apart, exposing a miniature dragon with awkward proportions in comparison to some of the full grown varieties the boy had been exposed to. As she got up, his tension remained. She didn't appear to be dangerous, but he had to remain alert to any strange behaviors. It was no secret to The Weyr that Sereldeth's mate was infected, but no one knew if the children would be affected or not. Certainly this Green appeared to be...normal. As well as a boy that had little exposure to dragons until arriving here could tell. She wasn't charging towards the humans with bloodlust in her eyes. In fact, she regarded the world with the sort of child-like curiosity that any creature in their right mind might. It brought back memories of watching one of the draybeasts back at home give birth to a young calf. That calf was likely the first victim in their family during that dreadful decade of Threadfall, but no one suspected a thing. It simply disappeared one afternoon leaving her worrisome mother behind. Whereas everyone seemed to be quick to dismiss the calf as claimed by predators, his cousin mourned for it. Turlough knew, because she made him accompany her to take flowers to a gravestone she put out for it. Back then he thought it was a waste of time, but these days he treasured such memories. They were all he had left of those he loved.

The egg that this spring-green dragon's had fallen against was giving way to another Green, strikingly different than her sister. She was larger, deeper, and darker than the first born. Instead of being a solid color, this Green had a dark stripe on her back that was nearly black while the rest of her was an emerald color. She seemed even more harmless than her sister, trying to make friendly maneuvers when the paler Green only regarded her actions with a cold shoulder and general distaste. The older sister pressed on towards the female Candidates, but she didn't make her choice before turning to hiss at and intimidate her darker-hued sibling. Turlough nearly took a step back at the sight of those red eyes, which flashed like fire from a calmer blue. He suspected that the color of dragons' eyes did change, but he didn't think they could do so in such a drastic fashion. He nearly thought she had simply turned into one of them. The infected...

But she hadn't. She was simply putting her point across before delightfully settling with one of the girls. Turlough did not know Balla and in fact did not remember any of the girls by name. He never crossed paths with any of them. He had only talked to two Candidates so far, and Calin just speaking up minutes ago was one of them, and they had not met prior to this. The other was Daromir, who was standing a person away from him to his left. He knew this because he did take a second to glance at the group about him, wondering just when they all got in since he hadn't been paying much attention. The group was still smaller than it ought to have been. Turlough quickly regarded the Sands once more, just in time to see a quiet Blue preening away at the goop on his hide.

So far three dragons had hatched and none of them were acting suspiciously. The red-head sighed and thought perhaps that he had better start seeing the brighter picture now that the situation was somewhat clearer. There was still a chance that this could go wrong, but he was now able to relax a little in hoping that the Hatching would continue to run this smoothly. He heard that traditionally maulings did occur, so he didn't let his guard drop completely. He supposed it was time to start trying to Impress, however that might have worked. He still wasn't sure if he would with his blood, bare of dragonriders as well as he knew. Some if the system was explained to him, by refugees that used to work at weyrs. Dragons of certain colors tended to Impress to certain demographics, yet the borders were often crossed in special circumstances. Turlough was not aware of the details however. He knew that Golds only Impressed to girls. That was about it. Greens he had seen with both male and female riders, so there was still a chance that he could end up Impressing to the one that remained. As for the Blue, he knew of Bravesth and L'natic, so the young navy was a possibility. Beyond that, there were thirty-seven more eggs to go, and one was certainly a Gold so that left thirty-six. He didn't want to get his hopes up too high. Turlough might have toughened up through tragedy but it didn't make him immune to disappointment. He kept in mind that he wasn't properly Searched and stood as a willing spectator and participant. With plenty left to see, he remained where he was, still gazing upon the clutch as if he were waiting for an old friend to emerge and accompany him. If his friend didn't show up, it would be easier to assume that the plague caught him first.

[Jack]

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught L'natic's attention moments before the Hatching began, and with an arched brow he peered at the Green dragonness and her rider-less hide. A subtle frown--not one of concern, but of curiousity he would assure--slid onto his lips and without warning he leaned fully over the railing, staring intently down at the rows before. A-ha.

A mop of blondish hair caught his attention, and with a soft huff that billowed out of his nose, he straightened up fully, his eyes gleaming like tiny lights behind his eyes. All at once he lifted an arm, and the Gold Chukachu that had been listlessly napping around his waist gave a soft hiss and swirled up the man's body, wrapping around his arm with whirling eyes glaring down at him. A small package was thrust into her claws, and she peered at it curiously, tiny nostrils flared as she flicked her wings and felt all over the small brown mound of cloth with her nails.

An image of a man below flashed into her eyes as a note was added to her fingers, and with a quiet huff, she dictated her gaze away and lifted her chin in prim refusal. A promise of fresh fish and meat still steaming from life, however, abruptly changed her plans and with a flicker of pleased, spoiled amusement, she spread her wings and leaped into the air.

Chukachu glided down easily, and with a demanding whistle, landed on K'nan's shoulders. She coiled about there for a moment, hissing her warnings, and then abruptly coiled down his arm, shoving the package into his fingers before, with a nip at his ear, leaping back into the skies and back to L'natic. Within the package, something the irritable Chukachu had smelt with disdain, was a fresh meat bun with meat still warm from cooking. Attached was a note blurred with L'natic's messy scribblings. It read simply, "This is an experimental recipe. Eat it and if you don't die within three days, inform me."

Remarkable, wouldn't it be to discover, that it was naught but a hand-made treat? But that would be silly.
L'natic never treated anyone anything...

Deed done, L'natic snorted and moved towards C'fael, abruptly leaning against the Brownrider as he offered a delicate piece of meat to Chukachu and stroked her eye-ridges. "C'fael. Marvelous for you to make it. Late as always, I see. It appears the little monsters are already wriggling about down there...what a distasteful shade of green...ah. To a woman. That explains it all, wouldn't you say?"

---

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such a thing as this...and upon thinking about it, Bambi realized with a blink of his eyes, that he had in fact never seen anything quite like this--this revealing of Life. For a moment, this perplexed him, and his brows knit with confusion. From what he understood, he was as old as the boys and girls around him...and yet...he had never seen a newborn baby. He had never seen flit eggs hatch...or watched a herdbeast's first stumbles. All of the sudden, it hit him that he had never seen anything like Life. Why was that? The men and women and riders around him had seen life and death...they'd seen the good and the bad...but he'd only seen...well...fish.

The idea took a hold of the young fisher, took ahold and wrangled with his mind so much that he knit his brows further and let a soft frown tug at his lips. But all at once, there was more movement on the Sands, and the idea was let loose like bait into the sea. Gone from sight and mind, perhaps, but soon to reveal itself...perhaps with catch in tow.

The pastel Green had whirled on her sibling and threatened her away, and Bambi gave a soft squeak of surprise at the action, unconsciously moving back and bumping into one of the Candidates around him. With wide eyes, he shifted and peered up at the considerably taller man, smiling cheerfully at the sight of a familiar face. "Xaleni!" He chirruped, his eyes closing in mirth, "They're very energetic, aren't they? I had no idea babies could be so...so..." He flailed a bit, leaning partially on the other, and laughed as--realizing he was in the other's bubble--he straightened and simply grinned, "You know! So bouncy and wild and everything!"

Bright eyes twinkling with their happy obliviousness, Bambi turned his attention back to the babies, watching merrily as a Blue set himself free upon the Sands. "They're so pretty, aren't they..?"

[bre]

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Isaath hadn't strayed far from the hatching cavern. As soon as the hum began, he took flight, wings spread wide. M'laus was on his back, his constant companion and rider. The wingleader smiled wide as they took to the air, the hum permeating everything around them. Despite their scant dragons, it had an unshakable force, a meaning and strength held in time. He could be happy in even the worst times, but this was the very best. His smile was unshakably confident. It was not a beautiful day, the air cool with the wind that blew off the water, but it was going to be a wonderful day. M'laus smiled and Isaath thrummed as he sailed down to the sands. Unlike some, he had actually been allowed near the sands, to leave things Sereldeth needed, and when he landed, her held himself with pride, his usually insignificant ego a tad enlarged with happiness and confidence.

Chuckling, M'laus dismounted. He shot Avine a smile, but he didn't think she saw. He didn't want to disturb her and he didn't dare get too close to her and Sereldeth, not unless he was called or needed. While both he and his dragon had a soft spot for children, a hatching was not what they had been trained to handle. They were there to watch the future of Pern be born and little more. Isaath, of course, thought himself as a bit more than that. Hey, he was the last adult bronze in the world. He was helpful. He had a reason to be a little bit proud, even if the children being born weren't his. It wasn't like he was the jealous type. Alright, fine, maybe a little bit, deep down inside, but his memory wasn't quite good enough for such feelings to stick. He sat with the other dragons and puffed out his chest, humming to welcome the new life that would soon be born.

M'laus leaned against his bronze's large forefoot. He would have been able to see better perched on one of the rocks or on his dragon's back, but he liked to think that he was prepared. The ground beneath his feet was warm, hoarding up the outermost rays of the fires that heated the hatching sands. It was a comforting presence, the warmth beneath his toes. It reminded him of when Isaath had hatched, way back before any of this had happened. The hatching proceeded as hatchings do, matching with his memories as he watched. Two greens came into the world, followed by a brother for them both. Then, at long last, one of the greens Impressed. It really hadn't taken that long, but it was a shining moment, one that would be remembered for decades. The hopelessness was over. Dragons were returning. Raising his hands, M'laus clapped, and Isaath hummed his heart out.

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Jubilee was going to be late. Sereldeth's threat rang into her mind, but she was going to be late and that was her choice. A worrying choice, perhaps, but it was her choice and she had made it. Oh, she dreamed of Impressing. When the day was done and she slept, she dreamed of it in secret. Being a dragonrider was a true honor, something endlessly worthwhile. However, there were other things in the world. There was always work to be done. She pulled her robe over her shoulders, hiding the simple clothes she wore beneath it. She wore boots on her feet, but they were thin and she did think of the heat. It just wasn't enough for her to go back and change them. As she straightened up her attire, she strode forward. She was hovering, in truth, even if she didn't look it, eyes going over everyone. She was working, watching, quietly worrying, trying to make sure everything was right.

However, eventually, it was time to go. Jubilee had scanned her eyes over the crowds, moving away from the candidate barracks, away from the hatching caverns, but she had seen no one of particular importance. Everyone else would be on the sands; her worrying was done. Without a second thought, silent, a small smile on her lips, she turned and headed for the stands with the rest of the lower cavern folk, desperate with hope and eager to see a miracle some of them could barely bear. She separated herself from the crowd easily, wondering where her brother was. He would be fine. She had to take care of herself. Her flitters hummed in her head, the two, for once, in perfect harmony, and the hum grew louder beneath her feet as she hurried towards the sound, towards destiny and fate. She didn't truly believe in such things, but it was nice thought. The hatching would run as the hatchlings wished.

Jubilee wasn't too late. She joined with the other candidates in time to see the first greens go stumbling out across the sands, such fine, lovely creatures. Her entrance was a tad out of place and she made little effort to hide it. In fact, she made herself plain, for she bowed respectfully to Sereldeth as she took her place on the sands. A curtsy didn't seem quite right to her. She gave the Queen every respect. In fact, she admired the Queen, as much as the admired anyone. Sereldeth was a strong creature and a mother as well. Her admiration was not much, but it was something, even if it wasn't something strong enough to keep her attention away from the hatchlings for long. One of the greens had Impressed to a candidate, Baila, a girl that Jubilee didn't know all that well. She knew them all, of course, all of the faces in the candidate barracks, but she did not know Baila particularly well. That did not keep her from clapping for the girl and smiling a little smile.

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Faolan's head jerked around at the sound of dragons humming. It was a startled motion, though his eyes revealed nothing but a furious agitation. It mean a hatching, didn't it? Humming? He had thought it might be a sign of danger, but it was nothing of the sort. He relaxed and started off across the field at a rolling lope, moving easily across the open space. Without speaking a word or making a noise, he headed for the candidate barracks. His heart pounded in his chest, not because of the physical activity, but because of what was about to happen. While he refused to reveal what he thought of the occasion on the outside, he had to admit, when he pushed past his thoughts of danger and blood, that he was excited. Well, not excited. He was more nervous, but he preferred to think that he was merely excited. He liked to pretend he was better than nerves, even when he wasn't.

In the candidate barracks, Faolan went to room without speaking or looking at another soul. He stripped off his simple, dark clothes without question. His fingers only paused when they touched the knife in his boots. He couldn't bring it to the sands. Too much of him was aware of that to overlook it. However, he wanted to bring it with him. He wanted to be safe. Finally, he jerked his hand away. He wouldn't have cared about being late, but being mauled by the hulking Sereldeth did not sound fun. Her hissed warning, received right about then, as he was not truly anywhere near late, made a shiver run up his spine. He pulled his robe from the pile of his belongings. It was wrinkled and smelled of sweat from the rest of his clothes. He could have organized his things better, but he hadn't bothered. Shaking it out, he pulled it over his shoulders and slipped on sandals.

The only thing that made Faolan almost tardy was the fact that he walked. When he set out for the sands, he walked. He did not run. He walked. At his sides, his hands curled into fists, nails biting at his palms. He delicate face ended up somewhere between blank and aggressively sullen. If he ran, he would get there faster, but he didn't care about that. Butterflies twisted in his stomach. He briefly recalled Xaleni. However, he quickly pushed that from his mind. He was excited. He was anxious. He just couldn't bring himself to run. It didn't seem right. Slowly but surely, he marched his way to the sands. There his motions became more fluid. He slipped in amongst the others, hiding himself amongst familiar faces he knew by attitude and not by name. He bowed to Sereldeth. If anyone deserved him to act the follower, it was her. Then he straightened and watched hatchlings crash forth.

It started with two greens. Not a good omen, but he hardly cared. Would he Impress a green? He watched them with furtive eyes, but he didn't think he would Impress one as he very quietly mused. At least not one of those two. They were too nice. He supposed that nice might be nice, but he didn't think they would like him very much. When the two greens split up, he began to lose track of things. One of the two Impressed and he clapped when he realized that the others were doing it. Right, right, you clapped at a dragon hatching, he thought with a blink, forgetting little things. Marching there was different than being there. He withdrew from the event, though he didn't withdraw his hopes. He just couldn't keep track of everything and he had to break it down, like a field full of zombies he had to fight. A blue started to break out of his shell. Faolan focused on the handsome navy creature.

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[Kitty]

Kira looked up at the sound of cracking. She saw the first green emerge from its shell and perked up slightly. She watched the rest of the eggs and the young dragon more closely and was soon rewarded by the sight of another green, this time much darker, clawing out of its shell. She smiled a little, glad that the Hatching was truly getting underway.

She ignored the other candidates around her as she stood up slightly higher, in order to get a better view of things. Though she was pretty tall for a girl a group of even as few people there were made it so much harder to figure out what was going on. Besides, looking above heads rather than around them provided a much better view, even if she did get in the way of some of the shorter people that might be behind her.

She had finally found a comfortable position to watch properly from when the more pastel colored of the two dragons suddenly turned on her sister, hissing loudly. Kira flinched slightly at the sound. She hadn't been expecting that out of such innocent-looking creatures. Then again, firelizards and some grown dragons acted the same way. She acted that way too. Odd how children (or in this case their dragon equivalents) helped people realize just how badly they acted. However, Kira didn't really care; she felt that she had better reasons and justifications for being that way, and it didn't really matter. It had just gotten out of a cramped egg shell moments before and surely anyone would be irritable in that situation.

The now seemingly satisfied hatchling looked at the group of girls, giving them all glances before stopping in front of one in particular- Bela? Baila? Kira couldn't remember her name. Its eyes swirled too many colors for Kira to keep track of and she realized that it had Impressed the girl. She smiled vaguely in the lucky candidate's direction before turning back towards the eggs still remaining. Well, that was one down, she guessed. How many more to go she didn't really know but she wasn't too worried. There would be plenty more and there was no way she was going to be skipped over. After all, she hadn't come here for nothing.

[Reky]

Xaleni watched the Hatching with a calm look that could really only be described as 'expectant.' He was incredibly self-assured. He knew he'd Impress sooner or later, with him being so driven and so deserving and with so many eggs on the Sands. There was no room for doubt in his mind. He didn't know what he'd Impress, though he hoped for something big and powerful, but that was a minor detail. The main point was that he would Impress. Period. He would be a dragonrider, and it was just a matter of waiting.

Bambi was beside him. Obviously, he knew the boy and the boy knew him, but Xaleni wasn't the one to initiate conversation. The excited chirp came from the shorter of the two who, with wide eyes, was looking up at Xaleni. Xal looked back at him, down his nose, in a slightly aloof manner. "Well," he said, trying his hand at a wise tone, "They have all the energy in the world. They haven't gotten old yet. They don't know what 'tired' it." He left it at that, turning his eyes back to the eggs. He quite enjoyed how intelligent Bambi thought him to be; it gave him an almost godlike ego stroke.

While the navy dragonet continued to sit and clean himself, content to take his time, and the emerald green admired the wide open sky, the black egg on the very left of the fourth and final row, closest to the candidates, was working overtime. It shook and rolled and emitted the scrabbling noises of claws on egg and had moved its way a quarter of a dragonlength across the sand before splitting down the middle. The dragonet inside pried the halves apart and stumbled out. She was yet another green, this time an incredibly dark forest green hue, save for her chest and neck and a splattering of freckles which were a murky, greyish seafoam.

Her bright, wide eyes surveyed the candidates. She drank up any attention she got, getting giddy from all of it. She pushed herself to her feet, using them for the first time. It was an ungainly attempt at walking; she awkwardly half-fell, half-stumbled to the side, falling into one of her sibling eggs. The pale pastel green egg, the only one of its shade, had been shaking sporadically before. The weight of the green finally cracked it open.

A hushing cascade of gasps rippled through the crowd. Sereldeth's attention snapped to the contents climbing out of the pale egg. The emereld green gave up her stargazing to weave her way through the other eggs to the hatching one, coming up right beside her dark green sister. They chittered worriedly to each other, the dark green apologetically and the emerald one with forgiveness and curiosity. The tiny newborn dragonet lifted its head to its sisters, and would have peered at them, had it had eyes.

The dragonet was strikingly small. She, for she was a she, built finely and delicately like a lady should, had only fused eyelids were her eyes should have been. Her skin was transluscent, a pale, pigmentless white that showed her muscles beneath. She looked a sickly green, thanks to the green blood in her veins that coloured her bodily fibers. She reached out, carefully, gingerly, to touch her fine snout to her dark green sister. The emerald green cooed soothingly, the dark green echoed it, and the tiny dragonet gave a surprisingly strong chirp back - but it wasn't saying much. The noise was still oddly quiet. With the combined efforts of all three of them, the little one was brought to her feet. Sighs of relief and applause could be heard.

The dark green moved out ahead. Chest puffed, she strutted, stumbled, and then refound her balance. She gave the whole audience a meaningful look, one that rather sternly forced them to understand that everything was okay, and that her tiny sibling was fine and shouldn't be made fun of at all. She glanced back, to see the emerald green helping the tiny dragonet to walk and work around her blindness. None of the three seemed concerned, and neither did the navy blue who had been watching silently. Even Sereldeth seemed relaxed about the whole ordeal. Satisfied, the dark green pranced ahead, flicking her tail, showing herself off. Her little sister was fine; people could stop looking at the little one, now, and look at her instead! Confidently, the green strutted forward, straight to where she needed to be.

Kira-Mine! Don't you think my little sister's so lovely and small? And your Mortath lovely, too! And so are you! We're all so great. Exuding pride, the green curled herself around Kira's feet. We'll show everyone how great WE are, Kira-Mine. I promise. The fervor of Mortath's promise wasn't only heard in her voice. Kira would also feel the emotions from the green. But I'm hungry, too... Ugh. I can't feel great if I feel terrible. Is there food?



{00160f} - flirty, fiery, show-off, obsessed with fame and greatness

While applause swelled for the second Impression of the night, the tan egg that had started it all took up its shaking with newfound vigor and promptly burst open, revealing a very dark dragonet. He was built thick, a strong guy from the start, but there was something strange about him. He was too dark. Too dark to be a blue or a brown, and he definitely wasn't a bronze. He was jet black all over save for his eyes, which shone like two moons in the night. Then, he hummed to himself and let his moon-eyes drop closed. He gave a noise not unlike a laugh, laid down on in the half of the eggshell that was left, and watched the candidates through slits of eyes from there.

The emerald green, who was still helping her tiny sister slowly approach the candidates, whistled her customary greeting to the black dragon. He just gave a lazy excuse for a nod in reply.

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