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

[Lan]

Another green hatched, a darker green that seemed to have more spunk than her other two sisters. However, she also seemed clumsy. When she fell into one of her sibling's eggs, it cracked open to reveal something... something odd. Elana gasped, bringing a hand unconsciously to her mouth. Was that... was that dragonet... see-through? Smaller than all the others, she seemed also to be born blind. She was fragile, delicate, almost like a precious gem. The movements of her muscles and the ichor in her veins could be seen clearly by all, which added to the vulnerable aura around her. Elana stared fretfully, mouth ajar. Was she going to survive? A timid, careful touch of noses between she and her sister sent a wave of relief. The other dragonets didn't seem worried, so maybe she was going to make it after all.

While surprised and frightened at first, the longer Elana watched the smaller infant dragon the more moving she found it. The tiny translucent dragon was beautiful, in her own way. There was something amazing in the way that she had a strong voice even though she seemed so easily damaged. She seemed determined, which was very endearing, and even though she needed help to her feet she had at the very least made it out into the world. The brunette found her eyes following the one dragonet more than the others, although she did notice when a second bonding was made and smiled and cheered appropriately.

Also she noticed when another oddity made his way onto the sands. He was larger than what had hatched so far, but was far too dark to be a blue. Was he black? Elana assumed he was male from the relative size and build. Yet her attention was not held on him for long. The emerald green was helping her smaller translucent white sister to the candidates and, therefore, toward her. While she hadn't felt much anxiety over the first two greens that had made their way in her direction, there was something very much different about this dragon. She was tiny, almost as if she needed help. It was only the knowledge that she was not aloud to approach that kept her from moving to help the little thing, even though she had a strong desire to. Who would she bond to? Would she bond? Elana had no previous knowledge to go off of to make any judgments on the situation. All she could do was wait and wonder.

---

Meanwhile, Calin was also reacting to the scene. Three greens had now made an appearance onto the sands, and he found himself rather fond of all of them. Each were cute, in their own unique way, and he rather liked their spunk. After the third, dark green had hatched he decided to stop drawing similarities between them and his Spinner. It was a stupid thing to do, as he knew none of them would quite be like her. First, she was a firelizard. Major difference there. Second, she had a certain flare that he was sure none could imitate. Not that the dragonets weren't wonderful... each of them had so far been charismatic and exciting in his eyes. Certainly, they had more personality than a firelizard, or so he could imagine being their brains were far larger.

His rambling thoughts were interrupted when, quite suddenly, one of the greens fell over and smashed open an egg that had been rocking, leaving behind a... well, he assumed it was a baby dragon. It didn't have any eyes, though, and there was something amiss about her pale white coloring. Amiss, as in one could see right through it. He watched it curiously, not quite sure what to make of her. Was it dead? No, it sort of moved. Then... what was it? The infant's sisters came to the rescue, the three of them working together for the smaller one to stand up. She. Calin thought that, if she looked like anything, she rather looked like a female. Well, as female as one could look when their skin was completely transparent. It wasn't the most appealing sight, all that ichor flowing through her veins as easy to see as if it were out of them. He blinked and looked away, focusing instead on the tan egg that had begun rocking again.

It was after the second green had Impressed that the egg finally hatched, revealing a rather odd looking dragonet. He was larger than the blue, and certainly a great deal darker. Also, his eyes were reflective, like a moon on a dark night. He was certainly an interesting fellow, a great deal more interesting than his fragile sister. Also, he seemed unwilling to leave his egg after he had already burst forth, curling back in on of the halves and watching them through slits like a bird of prey watches a mouse. It made Calin a bit on edge, really. Especially when he had made a sound that was much like laughter. It was unsettling. Maybe they would be attacked after all? But the creature looked intent on staying in its eggshell for now, watching them with a curious gaze not unlike how the candidates were watching his brother and sisters.

[pocketowl]

The day had been wearing her down as surely as a pebble gets worn down by the slow constancy of the ocean. As The Weyr had been steadily filling with Candidates the stresses of work, the only life that she knew, had seemed all the more pressing. It was not that the children and not-quite-adults did not pull their own weight. In fact, it was exactly because they pulled their own weight that she was beginning to feel their presence as a burden. There seemed too few things to be done in the past few days, and it left an anxious stone in her stomach that would not go away. For the past Turn, or nearly so, she had had no reason to think of what she might do with her leisure time. There was little enough of that to be had even for those who wanted it--for those who would rather submerge themselves in work up to the elbows, from the moment their eyes were open to the inevitable collapse of fatigue into their bedroll, there was hardly a concept for "leisure time." She had not had to remember what she was outside of a task for a blessedly long time.

Yet here were these extra hands now, all too eager to bear some of their own weight, and already thrice this week she had been bustled away from her tasks. She had wandered the weyrhold more time than she could count. Then the lake, and the fields--and she had regretted that one, she thought ruefully, rubbing at a sore hip--and what felt like everywhere in between. She had been like a neglected canine, inventing jobs for herself merely for the sake of having something to feel useful for, and not always jobs that anyone had wanted done in the first place. She had spent the entire week simultaneously straining not to be caught doing something that she had never been told to do and yet needing to be just underfoot enough that someone might give her an actual task. And so it happened that the riding leathers for the runners just kept getting smoother and smoother, the laundry kept being cleaned before it had truly been soiled. And then there had been the overabundance of conversation! She could remember having spoken no more than ten full sentences in the near-Turn she had been sheltered in The Weyr. And within a scant few sevendays she had had no choice but to utter twice that at least. She could find no peace.

She was steadfastly, almost sullenly silent that night as she went about the kitchen chores she had managed to take as her own. She refused to be pulled out of her comfort zone so easily as that, not after so many straight days of walking barefoot on eggshells. Figuratively, of course. Her mind focused briefly on the idea that there were indeed eggshells these days... and that some would be treading on them sooner than later. She had overheard some of the older ones' fears about dragonet maulings, or worse yet, young dragons born with ravenous and infected hungers. The littler ones would mirror their elder fellows with horror for a few moments, but there was no stemming their enthusiasm for Impression, the heady delight that they took in imagining themselves astride larger-than-life dragons.

The more disciplined side of her brain caught off her reverie. These were not thoughts for drudges, and she was certainly a drudge, and so these thoughts were not for her to be thinking. She settled back to washing dishes, taking comfort in the physical task at hand. The noise of the kitchen at her back was a lulling and well-known tune. So lulling that she was one of the last to notice the hum that was slowly building up around her, reverberating in every firelizard and dragon on the premises. The fishers seemed as oblivious as she had been; one was sitting in the corner, and spared a puzzled and clearly contemptuous look at the nearest flit before returning to its Very Important preening. Aithbhre looked around once more, every bit as puzzled as the fisher. She had never witnessed a Hatching before. She had done her best to stay out of the way during times of excitement for the riders, had learned that it was for the best. This seemed like one of those times. She turned and braced her shoulders to tackle a heavy pot, only to have her hands pulled away at the last second, the pot clanging into the sink bottom with a raucous clang.

Her instinct was to go stiff, but this made it all the easier for Calin to spin her round, for there was no catching your balance with locked knees. She did her best to fall backwards and away from him when the spinning stopped, but her hands were tangled with his, and all she managed to do was pull him a few inches towards the sinks. He looked like the most delighted creature in the world; she looked something just short of terrified. She heard his words through the haze of confusion but had no time to resist before she understood their meaning. The eggs were hatching. He was taking her to the Sands with him. A few nearby holdfolk laughed at her expense, although there was joy in the sound of it, no malice. She looked to them for help but none was forthcoming. She was young enough to stand for a Hatching, especially in desperate times. She didn't know this--knew only that the Sands were a terrible dangerous place, potentially full of starving dragonets or riders full of whatever-it-was riders were so full of, that sometimes made her skin want to crawl right off her bones--but her fellows did, and none stepped forward to answer her silent plea.

She made no complaint as he pulled her along down the corridors, or at least none that she voiced aloud. But even in the dark light one could see that she was growing paler by the minute, and her body was more and more full of that fearful rigidity. The humming was too suddenly too loud as they stepped into the ring of sand, its edges framed by dragons and smaller spectators. Aithbhre's head reeled. Calin was leaning in to say something--she twitched away, the contact of his hands with hers too much to bear with the noise of it all--but she heard none of it, and suddenly he was gone. She hovered at the edge of the sands, one foot in and the other nearly outside of the ring of fires. Too distant to be considered a Candidate, too far to be only a spectator. And always that dreadful humming that made the pit of her stomach shrink in on itself. All she could do was try to find the solution of least possible resistance, there was nothing left but to cope.

Some of the eggs had already hatched, she could see that already. Green, blue, green, something, something... it meant nothing to her. Dragons were dragons were dragons. She experienced a small gutwrench at remembering the first and last time she had touched dragonflesh, seeping ichor from her hands all the way to her armpits, running down the rivulets of her scarred back. Remembered too the dangers of dragonriders, whose moral compasses so often seemed to oscillate to fit their desires. Another Candidate pushed in behind her, his weight shifting her a few inches through the sand, closer to the epicenter of her terror. She had no business being there, a drudge, a daughter of a drudge, who was the daughter of a drudge before her. But all it took was a quick look to see that she wasn't alone in being a misfit for these dragons. Fishers, children, the holdless--they had no more right to be here than she. And did she even have a right to disobey Calin, for he had given her an order, or so she had structured his actions in her head.

In the end, there were no perfect answers. With evenly measured steps Aithbhre approached the cluster of Candidates, though she would not join their ranks. Instead she hovered at the outermost periphery of the crowd, a lone satellite finding strength in the safety of nearby numbers. She did not know to bow to the attending Queen but would not bring her eyes up to meet the enormous creature anyway. Aithbhre stared resolutely at her own boots, anchored as a statue but her whole body atremble, just enough to be seen from the stands. Her mind was clicking through every available option too quickly to notice how transparent her feelings had become, much less to acknowledge that those feelings existed at all. Aside from fear and the weighing of options, her world was blessedly numb of other emotions. She felt no pity for the brave little white, no affection for the emerald green that found beauty in every worldly thing.

Only the trembling in her chest and the warmth that baked her feet in their leather casings.

[Kitty]

Kira had been standing by herself, looking absently into space and at the dragonets who had hatched, when suddenly a black egg started rocking. It almost seemed possessed, due to how much it was moving and the sounds of scraping emitting from it. After traveling quite a distance it finally broke down the middle and a dark forest green hatchling emerged, stumbling. It stood for a moment in front of the crowd and seemed to be soaking up the attention. Kira almost had the urge to laugh but settled for a smile. It was quite amusing compared to the other hatchlings.

She had turned her head to check for any new activity from the emerald Green when her attention was snapped back to the newest arrival and the gasps of the large crowd. It had fallen over on another egg and cracked it open. She noticed that the emerald had come over and seemed to be talking to her sister while a very unique dragon emerged from its broken shell. The translucent skin was quite shocking, and so was the realization that it was blind. It was probably due to its father's sickness, but even with that in mind it was quite the surprise. It seemed quite lively for its size and disability though, as it responded with a chirp to the other females.

Kira had realized that she had been tensing up slightly and so allowed herself to relax as she watched the group. All the other candidates seem to do the same as the white successfully brought itself to its feet with some help and started walking. She smiled to herself. It was great that it seemed like it was strong for its size; that meant that it was likely to live, even with its disabilities. It seemed that the dark green thought the same, for it pranced or danced from the other two hatchlings and started to show off to the audience. It moved towards the girls and then the most wonderful voice appeared in her head.

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. The green-Mortath- said this so quickly, and Kira was so caught off guard, that she barely had enough time to think about responding to this before Mortath curled around her feet. She felt a great pride-from the dragonet, or herself? Or both of them?- as she looked down at the hatchling- her hatchling. Mortath continued on. We'll show everyone how great WE are, Kira-Mine. I promise. Kira heard and felt the fervor in this statement, and smiled. I know we will, was all she could think of for a reply but she felt that it was enough. She was sure that the dragon felt her emotions as strongly as she felt hers.

There was only a brief pause before the hatchling promptly complained of being hungry. Kira laughed, not taking her eyes off of her. I'm sure we'll find it soon. I think it's this way. She shifted slightly as the green moved from around her feet and moved towards the edge of the sands, away from the other candidates. She stroked Mortath's leathery skin lightly as they walked, Mortath still relatively clumsily, and Kira felt overjoyed.

[Cy]

[/i][/color]

In a heartbeat, swept up in the rainbow of those big eyes, Baila stilled, the excitement still flooding through her system now temporarily frozen as calm soothed her with that sweet voice curling inside of her skull. Questions, one by one, threatened to rise up, attacking every little detail of this moment, but something stronger than curiosity squashed them all down, an emotion that swelled up inside of her chest and up into her throat as her hands crept down to reveal her smiling mouth. “Quirinth...” She whispered, tasting the name on her tongue, chuckling softly as the pale green tilted her head in response, though said nothing. Baila bit at her bottom lip, swept up in staring down at the little dragonet that had called her her Own. But then the sound of shell crumbling snagged her out of her trance as she was blinking, glancing up to the blue that now cleaned himself on the sands for a second before looking back to Quirinth, pressing her lips tightly together as she concentrated. 'Let's go, I'll feed you.'

With swirling blue eyes, Quirinth picked herself up obediently, moving forward to stroke her body against Baila's legs, encouraging another chuckle from the teenager. “You're beautiful,” she whispered aloud, dropping a hand down to finally touch the newborn in awe, turning to begin walking off the sands with her, quickly lifting her eyes to look back to the candidates that she was walking away from, the very first to bond. It was such an honour, so unexpected! Quietly, she wished all the rest the very best of luck before she was turning forward once more and continuing on the way to feed her lovely Quirinth.

---

With a sigh, Kierbin turned away from watching the girl walk off the sands with the temperamental green to return his attentions to the hatching, narrowing his eyes on the green and blue that remained on the sands. Steadily, more began to join them, another green stumbling onto the sands, and Kierbin could only hope that things would pick up. So far, one was star-gazing, the other was cleaning himself, and he was losing out on his patience. Not that he had much of a choice when his patience finally ran out, he couldn't exactly walk out on a hatching and he certainly couldn't start snapping at the hatchlings to hurry up! … or he could, but he preferred to have all of his limbs intact.

However, like some twisted answer to unspoken prayers, another egg cracked open to plop down another hatchling to the sands – and this one was certainly enough to catch his interest and it held it without effort. His blue-green eyes narrowed on the translucent newborn, looking over the muscles that showed through her skin and the blood that offered the sheen to her hide. He studied her eyes, or the lackthereof, a subconscious sneer and cringe pulling at his features. She was strange, odd, different, something that caused something inside of him to uncertainly recoil, but he couldn't tear his eyes from her. With subdued fascination, he watched as the greens tenderly greeted and aided the blind little thing, helping her across the sands. One went off to bond, but his gaze was still on the handicapped beast, the sound of applausing just a faint detail at his peripheral. Idly, he wondered which poor sap would Impress to the creature, if it even managed to Impress in the first place. Some part of him could only figure it a better choice for the thing to between. With that thought, he cleared his throat quietly and forced his gaze away to at least offer a sweep over the rest of the hatchlings as they continued, undeterred by the presence of this deformed sibling of theirs.[/ul][/size]

[Purnip]

"I'm liking these Greens," Rhysia chirped, watching the hatching from above with a satisfied smirk on her face. "And look! That one Impressed to a girl too! Finally. I was getting tired of being the only woman riding a Green anyhow."

I thought you preferred to be?

"Nah." The Greenrider shrugged. "It was funny at first, but I'd rather have some comrades of my own, get what I'm saying?"

Raeterith produced an amused rumble. It's not like you spend time with other dragonriders anyways. I doubt that you will go out of your way to befriend any of these children. You never do step out of your world. She meant this all with the sincerest kindness, only stating the truth from her keen observations.

"Hm. Maybe. Maybe not. I wouldn't mind taking in a Weyrling or two." Rhysia flashed a mischievous grin. "I think it's about time we start thinking about the future; I'm never having kids, so I might as well make a legacy out of someone else."

Raeterith was a little surprised to hear such talk out of her rider. Hatchings always brought out something passive in the girl. She would always end up mentioning her lack of a legacy and her desire to have one, yet after all the babies were born and the hype was through, she succumbed to her own hedonistic ways again. Not that the Green was being judgmental--she just couldn't take everything her rider said very seriously. She remained quiet and returned her attention to the event, but even a dragon could gasp at the sight of the sickly-looking blind dragonet below. Poor dear! A victim of her father's burden perhaps?

Rhysia tried to find this 'poor dear' right away, but it turned out the search did not last longer than a second. She was being escorted by one of her sisters, and she looked absolutely underformed. It was a wonder that she was able to survive outside the shell! "She's a miracle, she is. I wonder what she is...I wanna say Green but...she's much smaller and paler than her sisters."

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

As interesting as the stakes started to climb, there was still little threat from the Hatching that Turlough could sense. Many Greens were hatching, which he believed to be perfectly normal. He knew not of hatching superstition, which was probably not so bad after all. The last thing he needed to believe was that this Hatching was bad luck.

The next to hatch was a Green darker than both of her previous siblings, save for a streak of gray seafoam on her chest. He watched this young one strut her stuff, but he could only remain interested for so long. There were still thirty-five eggs swaying about, and any of them could crash open at an instant. He needed to be able to keep an eye on whatever came up next. Turlough was still going to exercise caution as long as he was out here. Once he assessed that the darkest Green was no threat, he scanned the clutch in time to see yet another dragon beholding life.

Or at least she might have been, if she could see. Her two sisters were chattering until the emerald one came to the youngest's aid. She was far smaller than her healthier looking siblings, and her hide was practically translucent. If she were closer, Turlough was certain he'd be able to see her veins snake under her skin. Was she a Green too? She sort of looked like it, but it could have just been the blood. He had been told their ichor was green instead of red like a human's, and until now he barely believed it. It was clear however, that this dragon would pose no threat to him. He only continued to watch because he was intrigued by the emerald dragon's willingness to aid her blind sister. It appeared as if these young dragons were smarter than he thought, and he hadn't though of them much before {aside from what danger they might pose to his life}. The darker Green went her separate way and bounded towards the females, choosing one and being met with applause after an Impression was made. Turlough rose his hands and clapped very lightly, trying not to attract too much attention to himself. One more glance at the Sands revealed that the Blue was still preening and the two sisters were slowly making their way towards the Candidates.

Then another egg promptly burst, snatching Turlough's attention at an instant. He stared, trying to determine which of the traditional colors this young one sported. Whatever it was, it was so very dark. Black even. And he might not have been a Blue because he was larger than his older brother. The boy watched him warily at first until the black dragon rested upon his own shells after making a sound like a chuckle. He wasn't sure what this meant for them or for the weyr. What was a black dragon? Was it normal? Did it happen once every great while? He glanced between those who were exposed, but he never settled his gaze on one of them for too long. Any of them could approach him, or none of them might. He believed it was likeliest that they wouldn't give him the time of day. Still, he didn't stop remaining interested. If something never came his way, at least it wouldn't be a shock to him.

[Jack]

A soft sound, not unlike a low hum of awe, rolled easily out of Bambi's throat, circulating in his mouth as though he were tasting it for a long moment, before set loose in an accepting laugh. Cheerful eyes, naive and blind to the world, set again on Xaleni, and Bambi gave a wide grin, moving to bump playfully against the other boy's shoulder. "That makes sense!" He chortled, eyes closing in a smile before opening to stare adoringly up at Xaleni, "Such a strange thought though..."

A hum twisted again in his chest as he--leaning against Xaleni without noticing--glanced again to the dragonets, "I hope they never learn then. The older dragons all seem so worn and thin--even the excitable ones seem like they've been stretched out sooooo far..." He stretched out his arms for emphasis here, "..that they just don't...snap back anymore." He shifted, still resting against the boy, and tilted his head up to peer up at him, "I hope these babies never learn...don't you?"

The fisher looked as though he would like to muse on this for a moment, his eyes staring thoughtfully through the navy dragonet, but a series of gasps interrupted him, and he straightened from his lazy position against Xaleni with a snap, eyes wide as he searched for the cause of surprise. It didn't take long for him to set his gaze upon the palest dragon he'd ever seen in his life...and from the sound of it...the palest dragon to ever be born.
Two Greens were chittering quietly near it, but Bambi paid them no heed as he stared at he translucent dragonet. There was something wonderful about it, to be honest. Something unacceptably perfect about the delicate structure of her bones and the feminine manner to her form. The thinness of her skin went over his head, barely registering in his thoughts before he simply smiled, blinking as he looked to Xaleni, "She is very pretty, isn't she? How often are dragonets born with no eyes? Will she be okay? Can a blind dragon function in society?"

Bambi clucked his tongue thoughtfully, brows knitting, but all at once relaxed and shrugged, humming to himself. "Doesn't matter. She'll--its a girl, right?--figure it out." Content with his own answer, he set his attention back on the dragonets, watching the little clear dragon and her sister for a moment before the shattering of another egg attracted his gaze. He blinked, tilting his head at the large dark dragonet, but paid it little more heed than that. He'd never seen any of these dragonets or their colors before--he couldn't understand what was so funny to everyone about this handsome fellow's dark hide. It looked perfect to him!

--

"There are quite a few surprises this time." L'natic's voice was cold, but not quite as harsh as his eyes, which were turned down upon the dragonets with narrowed lids. His nostrils were flared, and there was a stiffness to his movements that pointed towards the tenseness in him. His tongue swiped suddenly over his lips, however, and all at once the Healer was at ease, Chukachu surveying her surroundings with pure disdain as she coiled herself tighter around L'natic's throat, her tail curling up his neck and onto his jaw. The very tip twitched slightly, looking very much like a living tattoo before it purposefully wrapped around his glasses, lowering them on his nose just in time for him to turn fully to C'fael.

"As soon as that skinless beast takes one step off the Sands I want hands on her. I want to know whether her skin is thin, clear, or merely colored oddly. I want her measurements, I want her weight, and I want her cognitive abilities...but not until she's fed." He glanced to the dragonets out of the corner of his eye and clucked his tongue thoughtfully, his own eyes seeming to whirl like a dragon's as Bravesth shifted quietly behind him. "Calculate how much she's eaten and subtract it out of her weight--I want hatching weight as well as fed weight." He looked to C'fael, his eyes burning with intrigue, and cracked a grin, "You will keep a watch on her, C'fael...and when she wakes in the morning--if she Impresses or even survives the night--I want to be immediately told. I want to know more about that eyeless lizard."

A low chuckle--predatory, but with an odd hint to it--rolled out of his chest and he licked his lips, leaning again on the railing. His mind was already whirling with possibilities and intrigues, but it wasn't so much of a distraction that he was completely blind, and with an arched brow he noticed the black dragonet perched confidently in its eggshells...and smiled. "What oddities indeed..."

[Lirael]

Oh Shards, Shards, Shards! She was late. The girl bit her lip, and increased her speed. Why, why, why had she chosen today to explore? The intricate and twisting tunnels and passages of the Weyr had seemed so interesting, at the time. Oh dear. Why had the humming had to start when she was so deep in this labyrinth of a place? She hadn't realised what it was at first. In fact, she'd hardly heard it, so absorbed was she in her 'exploration'. But the odd, grating but strangely melodic sound had eventually worked its way to her ears. She'd tried to get to the Hatching Sands as fast as she could, but found that she couldn't remember which turns she had taken. As hard as she tried, she couldn't find the way out. She much preferred to be outside, under the open sky. Khaya was easily turned around indoors.

After an eternity, it seemed, she managed to get out into the open, where she found it much easier to find her way. While she was sprinting, she tied her hair back into a loose ponytail so she could more easily see what she was doing. It wouldn't do to be even later that she already was.

And suddenly she was there. There was sand beneath her feet, and, oh, a crowd before her. She slowed her pace, breathing raggedly. Khaya's wide eyes caught a glimpse of gold. Terrified, she bobbed her head to Sereldeth, not even daring to look at her. Late. She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid. Khaya slid sideways into the crowd of her fellow Candidates, soothed by their presence. As she reached the furthermost edge of the group, she was just in time to see a dark green dragonet stumble sideways into another egg. What was revealed to be inside was a shock, to this Candidate, and evidently everyone else too. The Hatchling was almost translucent, and had no eyes. After the initial surprise, Khaya's first thought was that she was beautiful. Muscles were visible under the white, unpigmented skin, which had a green tint. The dragonet chirped at her two sisters who had, it seemed, converged to help their sibling. Everyone seemed relieved at that. It was almost tangible.

Oh, and an Impression! Khaya's smile broke out again, her delight evident as the dark green bonded with a girl. Khaya didn't know the girl, but this was a wonderful moment. How could one not be happy? Hopefully by the end of the Hatching, there would be plenty to celebrate. And see, already another dragonet had hatched. Oh! But what colour was he? Khaya certainly couldn't tell. And the black hatchling didn't seem to be in a great hurry to tell anyone himself, so she guessed they'd all just have to wait and see. He was lying languorously in what remained of his egg, quite happy to wait. And such pretty eyes.

Khaya gazed across the Hatching Sand, completely entranced by everything. She felt that if she died right at this moment, she wouldn't mind she was so happy. Even if she didn't Impress, this would be one of the most significant and meaningful events of her life.

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

Daromir, meanwhile, had been watching the hatching eggs with bated breath. Everyone's eyes had been on that first rocking egg, and he was surprised when a second took over, a pastel coloured Green emerging from the wreckage. The first to hatch. He raised his eyebrows when she snapped at her newly-hatched sibling, another green. Although his mother had been a Rider, he had never before attended a Hatching, and wasn't quite sure how the dragonets were supposed to behave.

It seemed the first to hatch was also the first to Impress. Ah, and another had hatched, a Blue this time, he thought. Daromir had lost sight of the impressed pair now, but his attention was taken back to the eggs again.

Another Green had hatched- not surprising really, seeing as they made up (or had done, at any rate) the largest proportion of the dragon population. This one had skin of a much darker shade than her sisters. She seemed to be enjoying herself at any rate, Daromir thought, grinning. And why shouldn't she? All eyes were on her. And her clutch-mates, of course. She stumbled then, into a light green egg. Her weight cracked it open, and inside was... was that even possible? The Hatchling was sightless, and her skin... transparent, was it? Daromir couldn't quite tell from where he was standing. At any rate, she was unusual. A pretty little thing, though. He approved of the way her sisters were helping her out, taking responsibility already. He really hoped she would manage to Impress... suddenly a thought occurred to him- would she be able to Impress without eyes? He had heard that it was important for eyes to meet, and swirl many different colours, which seemed to be happening with the impressions so far, but was it necessary for Impression? If so, this pale little dragon would be in a bit of trouble. He pondered this, almost missing the dark Green's Impression, and the next egg to hatch.

[Lesa]

Gwynell was prepared, or well, not prepared, but expecting a little, how things might go. She'd read the Records, learned (and taught and taught and taught) the Songs. Yeah, it gave her an idea of what to expect, but the idea was nothing like the reality.

It was more controlled than the chaos she expected; she had to smile at Kella's sigh of delight as the first green hatched. Pretty little thing, playful. Sure, a green didn't 'promise' a bountiful clutch as a bronze was reputed to - but at this point, a healthy green was a much better sign for the clutch than a sickly bronze. Or at least that's what she thought. The little ones around her were excited - none of them seemed to notice how she was on her toes. Ready for action. Ready to move to pull them out of the way of a zombiatic dragonet. Yes, they were at the Weyr... but she was still responsible for them. In her heart, if nowhere else. She wanted the best for them, even if she died on the Sand at the claws of a zombie, she wouldn't allow them to. They were not allowed to die, not her little ones. Not Kella, or Utoli, or Mackenzie - if she could run and protect Caspa or Pietro and Trianio herself she would: she was just simply too far away, she would have to trust them to Aliman, whom she also wished to protect. But more than Aliman and Mackenzie she wanted to protect her little ones. They had more to live for. They would have chances she never had, in this half-backwards Pern. They were growing with it, they would adapt better than she would. She could remember so much more of how things used to be.

She could remember back to before the ten Turns of terror, before Thread got worse and worse and worse, back when her mother's garden was the pride of the Healer Hall for its flowers, not just for its healing plants, back when it had still been around, not destroyed for fear that zombiatic Thread might be lurking inside. Gwynell hadn't learned the Teaching Songs for recognizing zombies, she had helped write them. She remembered looking out the Healer Hall windows and seeing green, seeing all the fields in green and wheat-brown because practically all the Thread was seared from the sky, not seeing the majority of the fields looking fallow because too much Thread had fallen.

More greens had hatched, following their sister while Gwynell was lost in thought. The Harper shook her head and berated herself, braid ponderously swinging at the action. Even though none of the dragonets had proven to be zombies so far, she wouldn't do very well at protecting her charges if she was lost in thought, should there be some! She found her gaze softening at the interchange between the greens, the calm sisterhood and caring between them was sweet. Made her think of - another headshake banished Annre, Anga, Jasini, Marifede and Cristora out of her thoughts. No way she could think of them here, though the caring the greens were showing their sister was how her friends had been with each other.

Gwynell shoved up her spectacles, focusing not on the relationship of the greens, instead staring at the pulsing jugular vein on the littlest, watching the ichor move. Briefly she noticed the black, but as long as he wasn't moving threateningly towards her boys, she wasn't alarmed.
--

Medusa!

--

C'fael!

--

K'nan![/size]

[Reky]

"But if they never learn," Xaleni said, "They'll just be kids forever. Kids can't learn how to fight Thread and then teach their children and their children's children. Sure, they'd be happier, but they'd be useless, too. They have to learn." With that, he left Bambi to his own musings, watching the hatching himself. He stifled a yawn with his hand.

Slowly but surely, the emerald green and her little sister were making it towards the candidates. The tiny one was lifting her head, turning it this way and that, smelling the air, trying to reach out with her mind to the candidates. They would have almost been able to feel her mental touch; it was incredibly strong. She would nudge the emerald in the direction she was most drawn to, even though she didn't know where she was going. Had she been able to see, she would have found herself heading for the girls' side of the row of candidates. She felt around in the dark with the emerald for support, each step slow and careful. She didn't care how long it took, though. Her mind-searching had paid off, and all she needed to do was get to where she wanted - and needed - to be.

The emerald green was hesitant to leave the blind dragonet, but she was being gently nudged away. Looking up at the girl they'd settled in front of, the emerald gave her a soft, trusting look. She'd be able to take care of her little sister. With a quiet, loving noise of goodbye, the emerald turned and left, and went about padding through the candidates herself. She figured she'd need a person of her own, too. But which one?

The blind dragonet, meanwhile, gently laid her head down on Medusa's feet. Hello, Medusa. I sure hope there are no zombies. There's me, but... I'm fairly sure I'm fine. I can't see much at all, but oh well. That's life, right? Just got to keep going. Oh... I'm so tired and hungry.

[/i] Her little mindvoice let out a wistful sigh. Is there food for your Decimath?[/i]



{ebf1ea} - dependent, composed, accepting, goes with the flow

The black could have gone over to the candidates to check them out if he really wanted to, but the thing was, he didn't. He was happy to just sit in his eggshell and observe them from afar. He could see them just fine from where he was, and he could also see what was going on with his sisters. He saw Decimath Impress and, with a yawn, he lazily stepped from his comfy shell. With a contently exhausted look on his face, he lumbered forward, surprisingly steady for a newborn dragonet. He was heading for the boys, that was certain, but to who, exactly, wouldn't be clear to anyone but the boy he was looking at and en route for: Kierbin.

S'tia was in a rush. Khalaedeth sent him calming thoughts from his perch, but it didn't help much. The storyteller bluerider was having a bit of a meltdown, watching buckets of meat slowly trickle to the proper spots behind the bleachers. Couldn't the drudges go faster? The dragonets would be here soon! The dragonets that would save the world! He'd have to teach them everything, too. The looming responsibility was overwhelming. Avine seemed confident in his ability to act as Weyrlingmaster, though, so he'd do his best. If he did poorly, someone else could take over and train the next class, too. It wasn't like he was stuck. He was sure, though, that once the nerves died down, he'd enjoy it greatly.

The first two Impressed pairs came off the Sands. Khalaedeth whistled to them, Welcome to the world, little ones! "Oh! Weyrlings! New weyrlings!" S'tia called, trying to sound cheery rather than frazzled. At least there were a few buckets already here. "Over here! Now, make sure not to, um, feed them too much. We don't want exploding dragonets! And don't feed them to fast, either. They-- oh. great. Faranth."

S'tia's attention had turned to the Sands. The mottled green egg in the second row had let out its prisoner, scratching it on the way out. The brown peered down at his wounds, only papercuts on his tiny body, but his chest was heaving. He panicked. The world made no sense to him. He couldn't see it right. Why was it spinning? bulging? Where was he? Who was he? With a pained shriek, eyes wild, he disappeared between.

Keening echoed off the half-cavern's walls, emanating from Sereldeth, the navy, the emerald, and a new-comer. The newly hatched blue, bright like a cold blue sky, left his dark gray egg behind and ran for the place the brown had been. He padded around in frantic circles, looking under the shattered eggs, crying. Where did his brother go? Was he gone forever? The blue wailed up into the night sky. No! This was terrible! What was he going to do?!

He scrabbled across the sands. Panting, he finally made it to the candidates, where he frantically zigzagged through the boys. Then, he stopped, took a moment to compose himself with a few sighs, and looked up at the boy with worried eyes that didn't look any calmer even after his attempt to cool down.

Are you alright, Z'mbie-Mine? Clutchbrother is... gone. It's so terrible! So terrible! Please, don't worry! Don't be sad at all! It's okay, I think! It is! It will be! Tellumoth is shaken,[/i] the blue spluttered. The last bit was an understatement. But it'll be alright.[/i] He swatted Bambi's - now Z'mbie - leg half-heartedly. Ha-ha? It's alright. Um. Food will make it better, I think. Are you hungry? Upset? Can Tellumoth help?[/i]



{d4f2ff} - jokes around, understanding, provides emotional comfort to everyone, overreacts to everything[/size][/blockquote]

[Lan]

Elana smiled down at the little translucent dragonet as she passed by, moved by the emerald sister's dedication to her kin. She hadn't really seen much of dragons before this moment, and with every dragon that made their way onto the sands she was gaining more and more information about them. They're mentalities weren't so different from people. They weren't like whers or firelizards, or like what she had seen of them, but they each had their own sense of humanity to them... perhaps humanity was not the right word. Draconic personalities? Either way, it was certainly an experience she had never had before, and that was quite exciting.

The little white dragon impressed to a girl not far away from her and she nodded and smiled at the pair, glad they had found each other. So the tiny one had impressed! It would be exciting to see what happened to the pair. Certainly, the girl (Medusa, Elana thought she remembered her name to be) had proved an important addition to The Weyr, or so she gathered from the people she had spoken to there. Perhaps this little addition would be important too? Of course, the two would be special. There was no other dragon like her on Pern.

However, the happy moment faded as tragedy struck the sands for the first time that night. A brown had hatched, but he had hatched wrong. Elana didn't really see what happened, being sidetracked as she was by the odd little dragonet that had just impressed, but when she looked over he looked like he was hurt and confused. It seemed like he only had a few labored breaths in the world before he disappeared, never to be seen again. The keening and crying from the dragons around left Elana almost as haunted as the day she and Calin had to leave their parents behind.

It was a lament, a sad song of one ghastly chord sung in honor of one of their own. The brunette felt the color drain from her cheeks that had been prior steadily growing more and more warm and more and more pink from the excitement of the night. It was truly a horrific sound. Holding her arms around herself, she shivered and blinked at the burning sensation in her eyes. While she didn't shed a tear, she certainly could feel the sorrow emanating through the dragons' bellows and through her own body, from the outside of her skin to the inside of her ribcage. Was this what hatchings were about? Everyone had only mentioned the beautiful things about a hatching... just that they were exciting and wonderful. Were always bright moments marred by dark instances such as these? Or was it because of the world they had come to live in?

For a moment Elana was silent and still, the smile from her face disappeared to be replaced by a doubting scowl. Would... would most of them die? And there was nothing anyone could do? It seemed to hopeless. Yet, the bright new blue on the sands seemed intent on making things better than they had been but seconds before. He marched up to one of the male candidates and looked deep into his eyes, impressing as his sisters had before him. When the young woman noticed this it calmed her trepidations. Yes, life was full of death... but life was also full of light. One could not stop moving on just because of those that had left this life, for life never stops moving. She breathed, standing up straight again and gaining strength. It would be all right. Everything would be all right as long as there were dragons in the sky... or at least that's what she kept telling herself.

---

Calin raised his eyebrows, actually impressed by the tiny, sickly dragonet's boldness. She had impressed after all, and to a fine young woman no doubt. Or... maybe. How could he be certain? Quickly moving to the next thing, his eyes moved again to the black dragonet that had been intent on sitting in its little half-shell. It had seemed suddenly to gain some drive to move and was headed toward the male candidates. Calin couldn't pick out exactly where the black was headed, but it seemed for a second to be headed toward him. But, no... that couldn't be right. The hatchling's bright, reflective eyes were looking not at him, but somewhere else. Maybe? Either way, he inadvertently found himself bracing for impact. That didn't last long either, though. For something else wracked through Calin's delicate emotional state.

He hadn't seen the brown pass. He hadn't really been paying attention at all. But when the dragons sang their mourning song and somewhere, too, he could feel Spinner and Klah doing the same, the boy found himself lost in his innermost fears. Death. Sorrow. Loss. The sensations ran through him as clear and acute as the day he lost his father. Fear moving into longing soon became anger that built up inside him. It wasn't fair. None of it was. Losing his family wasn't fair. Growing up with an insane mother wasn't fair. What should have been an outward experience became a personal battle. The brown the betweened was no longer just a dragonet, but little moments in his past. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.

The next dragon, a light blue, that impressed became a personal insult. The brown betweened, even though its wounds weren't grave. Was Calin not good enough? All but glaring down the blue and his new bonded, the black-haired boy all but sulked, forgetting all about the black was that headed over toward the direction of the male candidates. For all he knew, the black would choose someone else as well. The brown had betweened because no one was worthy. Well, message received. But he'd be worthy! If he had to become someone else and train himself to be different, he'd be worthy! Not that he expected this oddly colored dragonet that was headed their way to understand. He was worthy of something, wasn't he!? Faranth knows he'd been trying all his life to be worthy of something... anything. His mood soured, and somewhere in the stands Spinner felt such a change and focused her attentions on her rider. She dared not approach, though. While the dragonets were small, she was much smaller. Instead she blinked out and appeared somewhere behind the circle of fires, watching with those violently swirling, multifaceted eyes. If something further insulted her bonded, she wanted to be there to jump in and make a properly irritated display of herself. But for the moment she was (somewhat) content to stay crouched low in a position on the ground, ready to pounce except for the tail wrapped possessively around one of the wooden structures on top of which a fire roared.

[Purnip]

Turlough found himself watching that translucent dragon the most, despite having dismissed her as harmless. He didn't want to think of why; he was just starting to zone out since most of the action on the Sands was now reserved for the sisters' movements. The last thing he needed to do was open himself up to a stranger like that. He didn't want to feel the pang of remorse and sorrow losing someone else again, and it was one of the many reasons the boy was so guarded. It wasn't tough to pull away from the blind and delicate babe, as she found the Candidate she was destined for shortly after reaching the group of girls.

But the ease he was finally pulling over himself was yanked clean off when the black youngster started to charge towards the group of boys. Turlough took only a step back, with a touch of defiance, and gave the dragon a most wary glare. Maybe it wasn't the best way to regard a creature only searching for his lifemate, but the intentions of the little beast were unknown to the boy, and he was not comfortable with that. The Black seemed to be focused on a different boy, as his trajectory was off, and that might have been the reason why Turlough didn't just take off. He didn't want to be bowled over and left exposed in this volatile world.

The dragon did slow down however, and Turlough started to breathe a little easier again. He still kept a keen eye on him, but though it seemed as if it would take one hell of a distraction to make him tear away, he heard a cry that ripped through the silence like a shrill, somber note.

He never had the chance to see what this shriek came from, but he could only guess as some of the dragons keened in mourning. One of the babies had died, but the red-head could not find the body to prove it. There were just as many dragons on the Sands as there had been when he turned away to watch the Black, yet somehow he just missed it. Now there had been another Blue, which seemed to light to be counted as such at first, and he came trotting over, clearly concerned. Turlough tensed again, but it appeared as if he would not be approached by this creature as a friend or foe. Instead he went to another boy who was unfamiliar to him--for the most part. Impression over and done with, he kept glancing to the nearest dragon again. This time however, he made sure to spare glances at the clutch as well so he wouldn't miss a thing.

He thought about how foolish he was for looking away. Perhaps that shriek could have been an indication of some real danger. Why did the dragon die, anyhow? He didn't have a chance to see it, but even its weak sister survived with the help of her siblings. Was this creature in a more deplorable state? Turlough could hardly imagine. Maybe he was mangled, or maybe he simply couldn't bear what he was born into. Yes...the world was no longer a friendly place to be, but it was better now than it had been before. Soon even the infected ones would perish, and to them would be left a world in need of repair. They would be the maintenance men.

Or perhaps he knew of the lack of Candidates. His might have been the boy who died last week, or the girl who died during the Ending Fall. Dragons Impressed to one human and no one else. What would happen to all the extra children then? Would they follow in their poor brother's footsteps? Turlough didn't want to think about it. It made him sick to his stomach. It reminded him of what he had to do to his cousin, and he couldn't. He simply couldn't bear the memory of it again. He gazed upon the clutch icily, neglecting the Black. He wasn't dangerous. He was large, but he was not going his way so Turlough didn't give him the time of day. He didn't want to get attached again, so maybe Impression wasn't for him after all. But then again, he did. He knew he needed it. He just wasn't sure if he was ready yet.

[Cy]

[/i].

There was a subtle lift in his brows as he recognized that fact. The black was looking at him, and it was slowly moving towards him. Discreetly, he glanced to the side, peeking at the boys that stood beside him, especially to Calin who looked so fascinated with everything, but then he was looking back to the dark dragon. With a shaky inhale, he pressed his lips tightly together. Much of him hoped that this meant an Impression would soon take place, that he'd get that black for his own, but a tendril of uncertainty dared to creep its way around his nerves. He felt aware of those claws, aware of those teeth, and definitely aware of the feeling in precious skin. Imagination aided him with ideas of what it'd feel like for it to be split apart. But he tensed his jaw, drew in another breath, and tipped his chin up, determined to remain right where he stood. The thing had sat around long enough, perhaps mauling him would be too much effort. He wasn't scared.

However, his efforts to stand strong wavered with the pained shriek that rocked through the cavern, his blue-green eyes snapping off of the black to search for the source, barely catching sight of the brown before it vanished. Dragons picked up a loud keen to mourn his loss, shaking his core as he glanced over the sands before looking to his side where Calin still stood, a frown firmly settled on his face as the newest blue from the clutch promptly bonded to the first boy. Clearing his throat lightly, he offered another small bump of his elbow against his friend's before turning his head back to the hatching, concern lingering in his heart in the wake of the dragonet that was gone, and he promptly searched out for the black once more.

---

She was a weyrling now. It was such an honour, something that felt so surreal despite the weeks of preparation beforehand. Excitedly, she lifted her attentions from Quirinth at her side to the sound of a man calling them by their new titles, a beaming smile gracing her features as she immediately rejuvenated their stride to head towards them, a small giggle escaping her at the mention of exploding dragonets. No, they didn't want that at all! However, the tone of his cheer changed with his swear and she raised her eyebrows curiously, pausing to turn and follow his gaze back to the sands where an egg had released a brown onto the sands. She dared to smile at the sight of him, forgetting the remark delivered by S'tia, but the expression was the briefest as the newborn suddenly shrieked and disappeared. Baila's eyes widened in alarm and, at her side, Quirinth offered her own grieving keen to those of her mother and her siblings. Her breath felt caught in her throat as she scanned the sands, as if she could possibly find the brown somewhere else even though he was completely and undeniably gone.

Swiftly, she turned on her heel to march over to the Weyrlingmaster, Quirinth tight at her heels. “What happened? Why didn't he choose someone? What went wrong? Where'd he go? Why?” She demanded in quick succession, her brows knit together in confusion and her eyes still wide with concern. They'd been taught of this possibility in lessons. It had been explained and accepted – but learning about it and being faced with it were two different things and all that she knew was thrown out of her skull with this. The shriek of the brown had been so painful, it rang in her head, and Quirinth had sounded so mournful as she cried for him. Why? Candidates had been plucked up from every possible place in the Weyr, they were all lined up and eager to meet him, just... why? Why, why, why? The questions filled her head and Quirinth could only sit calmly at her side, confused by her brother's panick and yet understanding of it all the same. If Baila hadn't been there for her, she'd have probably done the same thing. She was just hungry.[/ul][/size]

[Jack]

A soft, thoughtful look bled onto the Candidate's face, and he let his expression droop slightly as he glanced away from Xaleni. The taller boy's words resounded oddly in his ears, echoing and twisting about in his mind like writhing tunnelsnakes with bad intentions. Quietly, he let his shoulders slump, and he took his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing intently. "Everyone tells me that I'm too old to not remember 'Ending Fall'...or Thread...or all the nightmarish things that everyone rambles on and on about." He mumbled after a long moment, his brows knitting as he thought, "Doesn't that mean I haven't learned?"

Sheepishly, he glanced up at Xaleni out of the corner of his eyes, looking more proud than ashamed as he cracked a smile, "But I'm not useless. I'm happy, but I can still do good for others." He looked away, lifting his chin slightly, and gave a hum, his hands folding behind his back as he swayed childishly, "I can fish and bring food for people who are hungry. And before I left, the cooks at Hope Hold were teaching me how to prepare full-meals like steamed fish and baked herdbeast and even klah! I can clean and I can carry things...so as smart and wise and intellectual as you are, Xaleni..." He didn't look at the cunning boy this time, his eyes following the Impressing translucent dragonet, "I don't think you're right. I think you can be useful and strong and wise without becoming a grumpy old man."

Bambi laughed again, his face lighting up with his endless energy, and decided to bother Xaleni no more, his eyes finally setting to explore the Candidates around him. Most of them he recognized from a distance...but with a blink, he realized he hadn't properly introduced himself to any of them. He immediately made a note to do so as soon as possible and finalized it with a curt nod of his head, nearly missing the appearence of the handsome Brown onto the Sands. But he might as wel have missed it, as it was with wide, horrified eyes that he saw the young one's panicked expression, and heard its shriek as it betweened, and was gone.

Where did the dragon go? Wasn't it just there? Was he going crazy? Bambi gave a quiet squeak of confused dismay as he listened to the keening all around him, the pained, sorrowful cries of dragons young and old that echoed like wind through the cavern. Humans and dragons alike were in such pain, and he himself felt this aching hole in him--as though something he had only just been made aware of was soundlessly and painlessly erased from his being. Unconsciously, a hand reached up and clutched at his chest, nails digging in as his brows knit and he grit his teeth, a shade of terror beginning to slide across his face.
Why was this feeling so familiar? This great sadness that aches in the pit of your stomach and eats away at your lungs...digging hungry tunnels through your bones that make you just want to curl up in a ball and die. Why was it familiar..? He couldn't remember a time he'd felt sad for more than a moment, and even this loss felt like a light scratch in comparisson to the gut-wrenching ache that it stirred up. It was as though a tiny pebble had fallen into a lake, causing ripples far larger than the stone itself could have produced!

Swallowing, Bambi felt himself crumbling in on himself, more confused and scared of this immense feeling of loss than he was disturbed by the loss. His teeth dug into the skin of his cheeks and he winced at the sudden, unconscious action, nose scrunching at the faint taste of blood in his mouth.
Are you alright, Z'mbie-Mine? Clutchbrother is... gone. It's so terrible! So terrible! Please, don't worry! Don't be sad at all! It's okay, I think! It is! It will be! Tellumoth is shaken
The teenager froze, the sickening emotion ceasing its swell as though suddenly challenged, and with wide eyes he found his gaze wandering down, meeting the worried stare of one, pale dragonet. But it'll be alright. A small paw swatted playfully at his leg, and Bambi jumped in surprise, his brows lifting as he felt his arms--which had risen to wrap around his stomach--uncurl slowly. All of his attention usurped by this bundle of blue, he felt the memories of whatever horror he had just tasted fade away again, a sense of oblivious amusement hesitantly peeking its head out again. Ha-ha? It's alright. Um. Food will make it better, I think. Are you hungry? Upset? Can Tellumoth help?

"Your name is Tellumoth..?" Bambi finally asked, the Blue's eyes whirling a bit lighter as His knelt before him, one callused hand stretched out to him. Tellumoth leaned forwards and--with a quick glance at Z'mbie's face and a soft flare of his nostrils--pressed his entire head promptly against the other's palm, one eye closing in pleasure as he rubbed against the boy's hand. Hesitant fingers curled against the warm skin, flesh that was much less scaley than he'd imagined, and Bambi's previously non-existent smile bloomed back on his mouth, his teeth flashing in the lop-sided expression.
Of course, Z'mbie-Mine. You're happier now? Good! Its no good to feel bad, ha-ha!" A wink, and the dragonet butted his head against the boy's shoulders, his hips wiggling as he flicked his tail behind him. But Bambi's merriment faded slightly at the dragon's words, his brows knitting as he tilted his head to the side.
"Did.....Are you calling me a zombie..?"
Whirling eyes paused for a moment, a quizzical look bleeding onto the Blue's expression, and he flicked the very tip of his tail, drumming his claws on the Sands. Uh-huh! You're my Z'mbie! Z'mbieMine. "Z"..."M"...uh....."B"!

"But my name's Bambi.." Dark brows knit in confusion, Bambi leant back slightly and plopped on the Sands, staring intently at the dragonet who--after a bird like head tilt--mirrored the action. His tail was curled delicately around his legs, wagging about every now and then, but an almost stubborn look spread into the Blue's eyes, and he gave a soft huff through flared nostrils.
Z'mbie. He pronounced firmly and loudly, clearly willing to let the entire Weyr hear if it would get through to His. You are my Z'mbie; I am your Tellumoth. You're my Mine, Z'mbieMine.

Big brown eyes stared with no small amount of shock at the little dragonet, meeting its intense gaze with a mixture of confusion and absolute surprise. This staring match seemed to stretch on and on...and little Tellumoth began to shrink slightly, his wings rustling warily as, with a wary, sheepish laugh, he leant forwards and smacked Bambi lightly on the knee. I-I mean, if you want that is. Ha...haha.. A beat passed before the brunette reacted again, but as a grin spread slowly across the boy's lips, Tellumoth's eyes lit up with and eagerly whirling blue, rising to his full height to wriggle impatiently. The teenager burst out laughing, and Tellumoth gave a whistling laugh of his own, flaring his wings slightly as he watched the other stumble to his feet, brushing sand from his backside.
"Z'mbie..." The youth mumbled, biting his bottom lip as though tasting the word that had fallen off of it. It was such a familiar sound. But it didn't hurt. It was a pleasant, nice sound that rumbled about in his ears like an old friend's voice. Zaembie. His eyes widened, and the Candidate's grin grew again, his eyes lighting up brilliantly as he leaned down and wrapped Tellumoth in a hug. "That was my name! It was Zaembie--I remember my Da.." He trailed off, brows knitting slightly. That's right. He had had a Dad.. A soft huff sounded in his nose, but the thought his own words had started was ended there, the sound of Tellumoth's rumbling stomach interrupting.

Z'mbie glanced at the dragonet--feeling tiny claws digging softly into his back from where Tellumoth had merrily reached around in a draconic version of a hug back--and grinned at the sheepish look on the wriggling baby's face. Guess I'm a bit hungry..ha-ha...can we..ah...fix that?
A beaming grin spread onto the Weyrling's face and he nodded, eyes twinkling cheerfully as, with a bright whistle, Tellumoth disentangled himself from His and began to bound off towards the other feasting dragonets, Z'mbie hot on his heels.
"Not too fast, okay? I once saw a big fish eat another big fish, and his stomach swelled up so much it bursted!"
Ew...that sounds painful.
"Then chew!"

[pocketowl]

Contrary to expectations, Aithbhre was finding it easier to breathe as time passed. It had been necessary to convince herself that she was allowed and expected to be standing exactly where she was. What little she knew of dragons had dictated that revelation; that there was no such thing as a dragon without its accompanying rider. First-hand experience had taught her that a full-grown dragon would disappear between when its rider perished. She had never thought before about what happened to a dragon newly-hatched that could not find the human it was meant to bond with. It was becoming clear, as each new pairing was made, that the young ones would make that connection as quickly as possible. She doubted, could barely conceive of, a world in which she would be a good choice for a hatchling. But it was also becoming apparent that the human was a passive recipient in this exchange, and there was no accounting for the tastes of these creatures.

The woman jerked her head up at the sound of clapping, instinctively joining along, although she was making more movement than sound. It only took a moment of scanning the crowd and Sands to realize that she was applauding for an Impression. A tiny, white dragon. From a distance it looked as though even her eyes were white, which was puzzling but not something that she would think to question until later. None of the other dragonets had eyes the same color as their flesh, but their eyes never seemed to stay one color, either. She remembered with striking clarity the rush of reds and oranges in one of those eyes, as big as her head, of a blue she had once stood beside, like a sunset caught in an insects eye. Her stomach lilted sideways, full of something between sickness and fear.

Her eyes were up now, taking in as much of the detail as she could. The experience of it was nearly overwhelming. The noise, deafening to ears that knew mostly solitude, grew and ebbed as Impressions were made. She knew now that you were supposed to clap when this happened, an expression meant to convey congratulations and a sharing of joy. She would at least do it for the sake of doing what one was supposed to do. The lurching of her stomach quieted a little as she watched the emerald-green dragon moving through the Candidates, noted the cold gaze of the dark hatchling and his nonchalant navy brother. She had few ways to conceptualize beauty. It did not take up much of a drudge's life, thinking about whether or not something contained beauty. If anything did, it would be the shiny lacquer on a braided breadloaf, or the look of a fresh-scrubbed floor; the beauty of a job well accomplished. But there was some of that beauty in these dragonets, who had waited for so long to emerge from their shells, and whose emergence into the world was so well accomplished. She had been expecting blood and screaming, or at least angry yelling. In the spaces between applause, there was only a quiet beauty to the proceedings.

Her eyes settled on a brown that was stepping out of the shards of his own egg. From a distance she could not make out the thin lines of green on his body, cuts from the sharp edges, but she tensed in empathy with the taut body of the hatchling. He was terrified. She could read it in the lines of his legs, the hunching of his spine, and again her stomach dropped when she saw familiar reds in the dragonet's eyes. All at once he was gone. A keen grew in Aithbhre's throat, mirroring that of the dragons', although hers' was only a whining hum that carried no farther than her throat. She didn't understand how or why, but she knew of a certain that the little brown was dead. It plucked a raw chord on her heartstrings, long dormant feelings that she did her best to suffocate. Her trembling had started fresh and there was nowhere to let it go this time, for one did not recover from fear the same way that one recovered from grief. Fear you could become desensitized to, you could rationalize it away, make it smaller with logic and reason. Grief would not be compartmentalized so easily. The only cure for grief was time or to turn to stone. Aithbhre did her best to turn to stone there on the Sands, but there was too much shared emotion running high among all those watching. The pained hum in her throat petered out, turning to only a weak moan every few minutes. She began to forget whether it was the little brown she was grieving for, or the blue that had died of Thread wounds with her hands half-buried in his side, or the man on the boat she had drowned when his eyes went white and hungry. Or the parts of herself that had also died, or been drowned out purposefully.

She clapped reflexively for Z'mbie and Tellumoth but her heart was not in it. At least not all of the hatchlings would have to experience this fate, but how many more would follow him? This was why she must stand, why it was her obligation to be present at this hatching. Maybe she could save one from disappearing. Maybe she would never be the best choice, but surely she was a better option than whatever cold blackness the brown had drowned in. Aithbhre squared her shoulders and watched each hatching in turn, refusing to let one more go between just because none had offered them a kind look.

[Reky]

Xaleni was perplexed by Bambi's sudden opinion of his own. He felt a little less like an idolized person of great wisdom, which was messing with his fun. Before he could reply, though, the tiny blind dragonet Impressed, and he wrinkled his nose. Another dragonet betweened. That was the most confusing. Why had it gone? It was a brown. Browns were supposed to be strong! He could have Impressed that brown. There were tons of people here for it to choose from. There were even older people that weren't in the candidate program, come to watch from the Weyrhold - not that Xaleni thought it smart at all to Impress to someone who'd die sooner - that the dragonets could have. There had to be something wrong with that brown. Something off.

The tense atmosphere from the brown's death was heavy on everyone, Avine especially. Things were starting to go wrong. She nervously looked at every egg, especially at the ones that had yet to move. Would they be alright? Would the rest of the dragonets survive? Sereldeth was offering no feelings of soothing and comfort. The dragoness simply waited for the unknown that was to come. She knew she could not change it. Her heart was sore with her child's death, but she knew how powerless she was to help. To think otherwise was foolish. She could tell that Hers wished she could help, but all Sereldeth could offer was the truth. There's nothing you can do, the gold said simply. Avine withered.

S'tia saw her. It wasn't good if the Weyrwoman was giving up like that, too! The Weyrwoman was supposed to be strong - a figure of hope. He knew Avine, though. Avine had the entire world on her shoulders and she was trying her best to cope. The brown's death was hard on everyone - he couldn't expect her to act differently. With a sad sigh, he turned to the fretting Baila. "Sometimes..." he muttered, grieving, "There just isn't anyone for a dragon. He couldn't find his soulmate." Khalaedeth rumbled low and soft, looking sadly to his shaken rider. He sent him warm, calm thoughts, and spoke to Baila's Quirinth. These things happen, little one. Be there for Yours. She is worried, but it will be fine. Khal is here to help. Ohh, I hope she'll calm down... I know, it's so sad! So sad! The little brown is lost! He whined, tucking his wings closer to his body for comfort where he sat up on his ledge. But... But it'll be alright! These things happen.

[/i]

The black, after paying his proper keening respects to his lost brother, was the first of the hatchlings to move again. He seemed to be fine with the death. All he wanted, then, was his rider, who was quite obviously the boy he was walking straight for even before the Impression occurred. The black's eyes were a mix of amusement, calm and hunger, before turning to a whorl of ever colour imaginable as he laid down in front of His like a cat. Imagine if my blind sister had died, too, K'rbin! Two deaths in a row! Now wouldn't that be terrible, he gave a dragon chuckle, amused with the idea. Now... hrm. I'm hungry, you know. So... go get food. Your Caeluth will wait here for you to come back.[/i] With a happy rumble, he curled up comfortably and yawned. He looked at K'rbin expectantly, wondering why he was still there.



{000000} - lazy, dark sense of humour, happy, expects K'rbin to do everything for him

The emerald green, however, was having a very hard time coming to terms with her missing brown brother. She didn't understand where he'd went and why, but she was very, very sad that he was gone. She cared for him a great deal even though she didn't know him. Would she have been able to help him? She wondered about that over and over. She really did want to make him feel loved and like he belonged, so he could have stayed and been happy. She glanced over at the navy blue, who was still sitting in the same spot, who seemed similarly sad but far more pensive than she. With a heavy sigh, the green tested out her feet again and was on the move. She needed someone. She really did. She wanted to have a person, just like Morath and Decimath, and then she wanted to play with her sisters and then sleep. All of this hatching business was very tiring.

She wound through the candidates' half circles, peering up with wide eyes at every single candidate there. She didn't linger on any of them, making her rounds until she had seen every single one. Then, she sat down a ways from them, and looked at the entire group. They were all very nice! Some of them confused her a little, like Xaleni and Faolan and a girl name Andra, but she loved them all anyways. There was one, though, that she loved the most. He was extra nice. She wanted to be with him all the time, for the rest of both of their lives. At this realization, she felt incredibly complete. Walking on sunshine, the emerald green strode forward and rubbed her cheek against the leg of her boy.

Oh, C'linMine. Your Nonath is here. She's very, very glad she found you... You're the best.[/i] The words she spoke almost oozed with sickeningly sweet love. Could we get food, C'linMine? And then see Mortath and Decimath? I love them, too, but I love you most.[/i]



{32644a} - loving, romantic, childish, dreamer

The navy was left alone on the sands. Sereldeth didn't seem the least bit concerned about his long stay in his shell. He would find his rider when it was the right time. He was mentally stable, unlike the lost brown, and physically healthy. There was nothing to be worried about. He himself was perfectly fine where he was, in no rush whatsoever to find his person. He wasn't even sure if they were there yet. When they showed up, though, he'd know, and he'd go to them. Until then, he was happy to watch everything unfold before him. His eyes were currently on the hatching of the small black egg between a tan egg and a dark, dark maroon one. The dragonet flopped out in an ungainly somersault.

He was gray. Where his hide should have been a vibrant blue, brown or bronze, it was a pale, lifeless gray. Throughout it, though, were green spider veins, some of them distended and pulsing with the dragonet's healthy heartbeat. Despite his abnormal colouring, he seemed fine. He got up and, like the newborn he was, wobbled on his legs and fell again. He tried multiple times, reaching the same unfortunate result, but slowly he began to make his way across the sands. He knew exactly who he wanted, it was just a matter of getting there. He was glad he knew right away; if he didn't he'd have to check out every single candidate to figure it out! He gave them brief looks anyways. Some of the others seemed good, too... Maybe he could have one of them? But all the other options confused him. He went with his gut instinct, awkward stumbling his way to Khaya. By the time he got there, he was panting heavily.

KhayaMine! he crooned. Hello! I'm Nepteth! Can I, um, help you? I'd like to help. Or... maybe you could help me? I'm really hungry, and walking's hard... I promise I'll get better though! Whew! I'm tired... Tired and hungry, KhayaMine.[/i] He flopped down in front of her and spread out his limbs. He really was tired... Food, and then a nap. That was his plan.



{cccccc} - wants to help, clumsy, quickly tires, loves cuddles[/size][/blockquote]