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

[bre]

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Isaath keened. His triumphant hum had turned to the song of death that only dragons could properly sing. Oh, he had noted the odd colors. He had seen them, but the shocking loss of the young brown pushed them from his mind. He keened until it was time to hum again. After the somber mourning, his voice was quieter, more subdued and wary.

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Death was never a pretty sight. That struck Jubilee more than the odd colors on the sands. It was not oddities one needed to care about in that day and age. It was death.

JUBI COMFORTS AITHBRE

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There were dragonets everywhere and new weyrlings everywhere and people everywhere. There were new weird grayish dragons and blind dragons and a dead brown. It was very sad and very confusing, but Faolan just stood there.

FAOLAN SHOOTS LOOKS AT XALENI

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[Purnip]

At the kitchens, a busy Nebel was helping to prepare the Hatching feast. Whereas everyone else in the weyr was free to bear audience, some had to work while others got to play. It didn't bother him in the slightest. Dragons were hardly of any interest to him. He hummed as he cut up a most boring roast into slices after it had the lovely opportunity of baking that morning. He still handled everything with loving care, as if he were working with glass and sand. It was likely to be heavenly delicious--delectable to its last bite--but alas it came of a common creature. Just another herdbeast feast for the party. Let the children have their lizards!

But like any man, he was curious about the clutch that would determine the future. Once he wrapped up his contribution to the festivities, he decided to play hookie just to sneak a peek at the event. It'd be the first he had attended in a very, very long time.

His hands were free at around this time, so he untied his apron, hung it up, and strode out whistling. For the first time ever, not a soul roamed about out here. The Weyr was packed with refugees from top to bottom, but everyone and their mother was attending the Hatching. Nebel had to yawn a few times on his way over, having skipped out on sleep the night before like the best of them. He hoped there was something interesting afoot--there had to be! It was a hatching that never should have been, after all. When he arrived, he didn't make any effort to get a good view of things. Part of him was elsewhere during the event anyhow. All he could spy were some oddly colored dragons and sloppy Impressions. Tame for this day and age! How disappointing. Nebel sighed and decided to give it a few minutes to build up. Maybe the madness was waiting for him to show.

-------

The remaining dragons were on the move again, after they spent their mourning wisely. They had work to do and Impressions to make, but as Turlough expected he was hardly glanced over. He tried really, really hard not to be let down. He didn't take it personally though. He couldn't blame these creatures for choosing someone else. But he wasn't even being given the benefit of a doubt, a sniff, a scratch, anything. The red-head did prefer to keep himself whole, but by all means he put himself on the spot for a reason. The least these young ones could do was give him a half-second of their time.

But Turlough couldn't hold a grudge. In all honesty, he wasn't as disappointed as he could have ended up. Maybe he was meant for something else after all, and this was a wake-up call from Mother Pern shouting 'GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE SHELL AND MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL!'. It wasn't as if he was slacking off though. He did his chores with a practically religious devotion, though he tried to steer clear of being an errand boy on his free time so he could get a second to himself. Was that so much to ask? Everyone needed time to collect themselves. The navy Blue on the Sands had the right idea. He watched the lot of them from afar--yes, even Turlough. He didn't get up and decide he needed to make his choice right away. Turlough kept eying him, only to glance at the young Green that approached the males before choosing Calin. The Black he had to practically tear his eyes away from earlier had Impressed to Kierbin.

So once again it was him and that navy again. There was no chance they could have belonged to one another, or so the boy tried to convince himself so his heart wouldn't sink when the Blue chose another. Why was he caring so much? He wasn't supposed to be here. That was the cut and dry of it. A low-pitched grumble sat at the base of his throat, waiting to be pushed out. It felt like a lump in his neck. He needed more dragons on the Sands before he started to sweat standing out here idly, exposed to several degrees of danger should disaster befall him. It had to be worth something.

Then hatched what the boy believed to be another transparent like the blind dragonet. He couldn't have been the same color however, because unlike his sister, he has less lines throughout his body and they appeared to be practically bulging. Were his viens...on the outside? Turlough started to go a bit pale. Could he be the first of the corrupted young? Was he to come charging to feast upon the remainder of the Candidates? There were no cries of outrage from his mother, or the other dragons present. He might have wobbled in a clumsy, absentminded manner, but it could have simply been an affliction of being barely born. As the grayish dragonet stumbled towards the girls, landing before one of them in a tired heap, Turlough breathed a sigh of relief. Was it horrible to feel grateful that the strange-looking creature didn't choose him? He would have been worried enough as it was just being approached by something that looked so suspicious. But he didn't know what it was like. None of them could have been prepared for this. Turlough just wanted normal. He wanted to be as close as he could get to it. Not that he would turn down a mentally stable dragon because it looked like its insides were on the out--he just didn't want to get attached to something that would be likely to suffer complications and pass away on some cloudless afternoon. If he did Impress, if he would so be allowed the honor, he didn't want to lose his partner so shortly after. He wasn't sure if he could handle another loss of a loved one.

The Sands were quiet, save for that one Blue who simply sat in his shells like a monk in meditation. Lazy, or thoughtful? Maybe he just wanted to see his siblings go first. The group of Candidates was quickly shrinking, so Turlough hoped for the navy's sake that he wasn't waiting until the last few were to be fought over by a greater group of unImpressed. He didn't see the Brown go, but he wanted no more of it.

[Lesa]

Medusa tried to keep her gaze on everything and everyone. Part of her - most of her - wanted to just concentrate on the hatchlings. But the part of her still too-alert for nonexistent danger took over, making her look at the crowd watching more than the dragonets. The dragonets this part wasn't afraid of, though Medusa herself was afraid of the potential for zombie dragonets. This part was afraid of blond hair and brown eyes and an unrelenting need forced on the owner of those two items by his standing in society - a need that hurt her unendingly. Even now, knowing Agrius was dead, long dead, she still looked for him. She still worried and fretted and feared about him like a child afraid of monsters under her bed: her monsters had been proven real.

Phoibos' chokehold around her neck loosened as the blue realized that it wasn't just everyone around them that was making His panic - he was making her panic by feeding off her emotions in a way that was natural for him. Only where he was tightening his tail felt like a noose or a rope or a collar around her neck. Trapped, she was trapped. There wasn't enough - there were too many people. Too many people. She had to get away, get to where no one could hurt her! But it was the Hatching! She couldn't leave, not now, not when there was a chance she might Impress! Oh what did she care about Impressing, Medusa warred with herself, it wasn't likely to happen, she was too broken inside and she knew it. She was getting better, but she knew she was broken. Broken into a million pieces, and unlikely to be put back together again.

Dark hair covered her face as Medusa stared at the sand under her boots, the flickering torches the only movement in her sight, and that just the shadows of the flames on sand. Everything was internal now as she warred with herself, trying to force her wanting-to-flee body to remain on the sands, even while also battling her thought that she was too broken to stand. Sereldeth wouldn't have allowed her on the sand if she was too broken to Stand! They needed all they could have, surely, but not that many. Not quite so many that the ones the dragons said were too broken would be allowed on. There would be no risking dragonets on broken riders.
Maybe she wasn't broken - or not as broken as she felt. She wanted to burst into tears, the stress of it all bringing on an intense migraine. She didn't. It wasn't worth tears, and it wasn't like the migraine really hurt. She'd been hit harder around the head when Papa was in a particular rage.

So intense in her thoughts - eyes closed, actually, unable to bear even the torchlight for the not-pain she was feeling, it was only when she felt something on her feet that Medusa opened her eyes - and found her mind awash in a soothing, floating happy feeling that felt like she imagined rainbows did, pushing away the not-pain.
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. The little dragonet with her head on Medusa's feet was remarkably the one she had thought must have something wrong with her, more than the obvious. How could she have thought that?, she wondered as she dropped, knees spread to hunch in front of her love, hands stroking headknobs and eyeridges and where her eyes should be. Eyes traveled all around - the only defect seemed to be her eyes, unless one counted the skin, that was two. Neither mattered. To Medusa, she was perfect. Is there food for your Decimath? The rainbow seemed lightly painful, as one gets when hungry, the barest of stomach spasms and grumbling, red and orange standing out of the rainbow before the entire thing faded to blood tones - the perfect way to describe meat, Medusa realized.

"Yes, dear Decimath, there is food, if you walk with me I'll get you to it as soon as I can," Medusa promised, leaning back as Decimath struggled to her feet, slight girl helping to support slighter dragonet. Her hand rested where Decimath's jaw met her neck, right over the jugular, taking pleasure in feeling the strong pulse. Phoibos chirruped, staring at Decimath in some sort of shock. Medusa ignored him for the moment. He wasn't scared, just surprised. He would get over it.

(reaction to brown betweening, food)
--

Gwynell watched with a small smile as the dragonet she had been staring so much at flopped at the feet of the girl who had worked bread dough with her before the Hatching. She didn't know much about that girl, but knew that she would have her hands full, dealing with a blind dragonet. Briefly she wished the dark haired girl luck, before turning her attention back to the sands.

She was bombarded then with a tear-jerking sight, and the noise to go with it as the brown panicked and threw himself between. Oh, Faranth, that sound, and that life snuffed out so young! Tears threatened, and hovered, faintly. It was the noise that got her more than the death. There had been so much death, she was practically numb to it.

Kiani, Vita, Rilain, Linia, Emhi... she growled low in her throat, a wet growl, half sniffle, sadness and anger. Prewt had deserved so much worse than she had done to him, that sharder! Perhaps, part of her mused, she wasn't as numb to death as she thought she was, feeling as much for the deaths of those she hadn't really known well, and dead for quite some time.

Kella and Utoli huddled together and the older girl swept them to her, drawing on the comfort holding them gave her - not much, when she herself hadn't been held in so long, and even then, holding others still felt awkward, like she was doing something that it wasn't her right to do. Neither cried much, as she expected - all were too scarred to death to cry, even with the death-knell of the keening echoing. The blonde shared a look with Mackenzie, a brief sympathy, before releasing the two younger (though taller) girls, accepting the hands they held out to her. Her smile was tight as Mackenzie took the hand Kella held out to her. They were together, at least a little, again.

Gwynell shifted her stance, using the movement to concentrate on the sands as the keening ceased, calming her emotions. Her blue eyes sharpened and focused on Caspa, the young boy standing on his own, wiping at his eyes as his fellows gathered around Aliman, trying to be unfeeling men and failing miserably. The group leader nodded to her male second, acknowledging his hardship, three boys plastered to him, until one by one they peeled off like scabs, standing tall as Aliman was. Her lips twitched while she watched their antics, before following the march of a pale little blue that Impressed to a boy, the black finishing his unerring walk to another boy, the green who had helped the little white? translucent? green? to Hers finding her own bond.

Everything seemed to be going in order. Even the next hatching of a gray didn't cause her to more than blink. He found his right fast, and the navy that was just hanging around the sand was continuing to do so. Clearly he was waiting for His; at least he didn't panic and between away, as the brown had.

(basically done, will add more description, etc, but major points are there)
--

C'fael!

(comments to L'natic, response to brown's death)
--

He'd come up with a plan for eating the meatroll - a bite for every Impression. Chalchiuith had snorted at him for his folly, but didn't protest. He was eating, that was all that mattered to the green. A bite for each little green. A bite for the odd not-quite-a green, a - suddenly, he wasn't hungry anymore. Chalchiuith keened from her spot high above him, alto voice perfectly counterbalancing the predominantly male basoon tones and the higher pitch of her fellow greens. A harmony of sorrow that left him holding one last bite of meatroll, and viciously fighting with himself to keep what he'd eaten of it down. It wouldn't do for him to throw up on the sands.

K'nan rubbed at his pained stomach. The betweening was not a good sign. Not in the least. He'd always hated when a dragonet betweened, hated it even more now, when each was so precious. Chalchiuith trailed off the keening, and mentally poked at him to eat the last bite of meatroll. A blue had Impressed. He was to eat.
"But!"
No buts, K'nanmine. If it was poisoned, I'm fair sure Ansyth's can find an antidote before anything goes wrong, you said so yourself. Bravesth's is right, you don't eat enough. So shut up and eat it. Grudgingly he did, taking the smallest bite possible, barely a few crumbs. Chalchiuith groaned at him, but didn't press the issue. He would come around, soon enough. She hoped.[/size]

[Lan]

Watching the blue pair trod off, Calin was about to give up on this whole thing when a friendly knock on his elbow came from a familiar source. Not turning his head, his eyes glanced sideways at his friend. Dark emotions were festering inside him and, truly, the boy was seething. He had already begun to grind his teeth together to keep from making a fool of himself as he tried to keep up appearances. Since Kierbin had discovered him, though, his attempt at charades probably wasn't working. At first he wanted to slap his friend. Or deck him. Whatever came first. Then, slowly, his anger abated. It was just a hatching. What was he getting all worked up about? He had almost returned to his cheery self when the black dragonet he had had his eye on impressed to someone not too far away.

Kierbin. The black had impressed to Kierbin. Calin stared for a moment, struck speechless at this event. Then, like a snap of a twig, he had turned sullen. He forced himself to look away, staring with a phenomenal lack of interest at the navy blue that was busy cleaning himself in his little shell. Well, wasn't that just perfect? Wasn't that just sharding peachy-keen? However, the boy of many moods was no longer possessing enough energy to be angry. Depression set in like a southern storm and he swallowed hard to keep the waves from buffeting him more than they already had. It wasn't Kierbin's fault he had impressed; Calin knew that. At the same time, he couldn't forgive his friend of it either. Not that he'd admit that. No... Calin would do what Calin did best. He'd lie. And smile. And secretly brood.

"'Grats!" A false smile adorned his face as trying-too-hard cheer bubbled up like acid in his voice. With that brief moment of joy, directed toward K'rbin as he faced him for those couple of seconds, he almost seemed normal and happy. Then, like a fire being doused, he returned his attention again to the dumb little blue that was lounging about like a impudent moron. It felt like his stomach had sunk below his knees. Right then and there, Calin decided, he hated hatchings. Really, he did. At least in that moment. Yet, so tried he was in his thought process, he didn't notice the cute little emerald dragonet approaching that he had watched before.

Oh, C'linMine. Your Nonath is here. She's very, very glad she found you... You're the best.

Calin frowned. What? Where was that coming from? And why did it sound so... happy? A warm embrace and a smell of spicy hide directed the boy's attentions downward. His eyes made contact and suddenly he was completely enamored. Why... what a beautiful dragon! What a lovely young thing! Slowly the sparkle in his eye returned and the brightness to his smile. His Nonath. His! No one else's. And she thought he was the best. It was a lovely thought. In that moment he completely forgot about the little black that had shunned him or his ill will toward Kierbin. Yes. His. And he would be hers. Her... C'lin.

Could we get food, C'linMine? And then see Mortath and Decimath? I love them, too, but I love you most. C'lin grinned wider, quite beaming now with effervescent joy. He crouched down to meet her, surrounding her head with loving and gentle hands and rubbing her affectionately. Nonath cooed in response. She liked that very much. Hers was very affectionate indeed. Her loving sentiments spilled over into her bonded, boosting his suddenly great mood even further. Surely her C'linMine would be the greatest love ever! She pushed playfully back at his hands.

"Of course, Nonath. Off we go!" He giggled, standing again and walking with the infant green at a reasonable pace to get to the food. She hummed happily, following him with a fun little lilt in her step as they went. Off in the distance, Klah and Spinner were greatly interested in the new addition to their little fair. Klah, perhaps, had more happy intentions than his clutchsister, but Spinner was equally interested, albeit a tad bit irritable. As C'lin and Nonath finally made it to the food, they betweened to where the action was, appearing right in front of the hatchling and each giving their own greetings in chirrups.

Oh! C'linMine! Who are these? She asked, stretching her neck out to sniff them gingerly.

"These are Klah and Spinner..." C'lin responded almost proudly, supplying the information like a doting father, "Klah, the brown one, is all right... but watch out for Spinner. She bites." Nonath retracted, appearing disturbed by this information. Bites? Goodness, Nonath didn't want to be bitten! C'lin laughed amiably. "Well, not all the time... She's just not very nice. C'mon, Nonath! Let's get you fed." He gestured to the pile and the green, being quite hungry, left the little flits alone to go satiate her empty stomach. Klah and Spinner took their places clinging to C'lin's shoulders, Spinner perhaps more possessively so than the easy-going Klah, and the three watched the new addition with varying temperaments, although C'lin was infinitely all warm and fuzzy inside.

Nonath reached the pile of meat at a trotting sort of gait and came to eat near Tellumoth and her other siblings. She hummed in greeting, then began picking apart the meat with great voracity. Raising her head for a moment, she glanced over at her light blue brother. Hello! Her voice, as always, was bright and cheery and dripping with affection. I'm Nonath! I think we're going to be friends, don't you? After another soft little hum she once again dug into the offered food.

---

Everything seemed to be happening quickly to Elana. The black was making his way over to the male candidates and, as he bonded with Kierbin (an acquaintance and friend of Calin's) she could see her friend's countenance grow grim. Sure, he looked perfectly happy to others, but after knowing him all these turns she could tell when something was bothering him. She sighed. Poor Calin. He could get so flustered at times. But she held nothing but optimism for him at this hatching. He would find his partner, she was sure. He already had two flitters, after all. There must be something about him that dragon kind liked. She bit her lip as the emerald green made her way toward the male candidates. Maybe she would choose him? That would certainly brighten his mood. And, sure as the sands were warm, it did.

As Calin looked to the little green with his eyes brightening in humor, Elana smiled and looked away. Good. He was taken care of. That was really all she cared about. If he hadn't impressed he would have been a mess and that would have depressed he greatly. But he had, and he seemed happy. So, with that consolation in her heart, she continued watching the sands. For a while there was just that dark, navy blue that seemed very content on getting himself good and clean, but then another dragonet made its presence on the sands. Elana watched with curious eyes as another new color was introduced to the masses. It sort of looked like that translucent white, except there was a definite gray hue to its skin. He also had the delicate frame like his glass-like sister before him. However, unlike the smaller dragonet, he seemed very intent on getting somewhere. More specifically to a someone.

Slowly, but surely, the little dragonet made it to his chosen person... a girl, which meant the second gender-crossing impression of the night, after Calin of course. Elana smiled again, feeling more and more hopeful for the future at each impression. Things would be easier for everyone with more dragonriders around. Riders represented hope and prosperity, and when people gained more hope they were more likely to overcome their struggles. These new colors, while strange, also meant the dawning of a new era. Of this Elana was sure. It would be a new time for humans and dragons alike on Pern. Perhaps they would make it through these dark times after all? She didn't hold her breath, but the option made her content. Tonight was a good night, for the most part, despite the death that had happened. More deaths would happen, Elana knew, to spoil the occasion, but the life was enough to be celebrated.

The sands were calm now. Only the navy blue dragonet, indifferent to his surroundings, was a source of movement. Naturally Elana's gaze fell on him, curious about his incredible lack of interest in any of the humans around him. Yet, at the same time she felt herself eager for more hatchlings to crack their way out of their shells for her to investigate. Would the others even hatch? Would most of the clutch be duds? She had heard of some eggs being duds in Gold clutches, but not of a majority being infertile. Each second that ticked by without another hatchling appearing seemed long and short all at the same time. Elana stayed calmly and patiently, with wondering eyes and a gentle demeanor. For a second she glanced over at her friend, smiling again at the bonding he had made. He looked so happy. Even if she didn't impress, she was sure to make friends with his little dragonet, just as she had with his two firelizards. Or, at least that was her hope. It seemed like a naturally thing to do. She couldn't imagine Calin bonding to an unsocial or unfriendly dragonet. It would drive the poor lad insane.

[gulo]

Oh drat.

Why did Jakkin have to pick this particular moment to be trundling along outside? Ziggy had been acting agitated with being cooped up – and in hopes of subduing the little bronze’s temper he walked outside for the flitter to skim about a while and stretch his wings. He wasn’t going to sleep anyway until the little beast calmed himself. He was sick of the sharp beak and claws digging into his scalp as he fought for what little sleep he could after chores and upkeepings to keep the Weyr from failing.

He was literally as far away as possible from the Sands with his flit. Ziggy snatching up stray beetles and crushing them easily, he chased farther and farther and Jakkin had to keep up. He didn’t notice at first how far away they were getting (and how dangerous that may be), until the Bronze halted and landed neatly onto his shoulder.

He could hear the humming coating the air, as if it were almost visible. The bronze bugled for his bonded’s attention. Flutter of dragon wing filled the air, and Jakkin ran as fast as he could to the Sands. The bronze clung to his shoulder, too lazy to dive and soar faster than Jakkin could ever go. Would the gold gut him and feed her to her babies for being tardy?

He made way, keeping his best not to pant from the run and keep strong like being a miner’s son would. He slipped in quietly, after a respectful gesture to the clutching mother. He blended in with the gaggle of other males. The bronze, before entering the sands had betweened – keeping himself far from the Gold. By the feeling in Jakkin’s gut, he figured Ziggy had found himself a dragon to perch on.

He counted the eggs, mentally going over his chances at impression. Ignoring the gnawing doubt in the back of his head. He felt repulsed by some of the looks of the dragonets coming from their shells. Surely they had to be at least kind to make up for how they appeared. Knowing the feeling he drew his arms over his chest, probably protecting himself from being around so many others.

He stood up on his toes to see over the sea of heads in front of him. Idly he wondered what his father would think. His son! At a hatching! Of course the circumstances were skewed, but perhaps he would have been proud and sitting amongst those of the Weyr if he were alive.

((sorry for the late and shortness ;__; I'm about to trot out the door and wanted to put something at least functional in here before I left.))

[Zane]

Purposely being late, that’s what the Candidate’s whose intentions were to piss off did. So now she had the embarrassment of being labelled the moment she stepped onto the stands. No one would understand her situation, or see the struggle she’d gone through just to get here. She’d practically been searched the day before, and had to make arrangements to get to The Weyr just today. No sooner had she arrived then the humming had already started, and dragonet’s had already hatched. Maybe this wasn’t her fate after all; maybe her destiny was just to be at The Weyr for the time-being, for whatever purpose that served. Sighing, likely the last one to show-up, she threw her things down on the bed she might never sleep-in (within the Candidate Barracks) and dressed-in her white robes. There was something she liked about the robes, their warmth, perhaps. They were light, and airy, although. Did anyone ever like the robes? Maybe she was a tad strange. Oh well, not like her to care much about what people thought-of her. She was just made upset by situations she figured could have been controlled; like being late for example.

Practically combing her fingers through her hair she placed her bangs off to the side and raced down the hall, a great sprint runner. She was there in no time, finding it peculiar that she knew which corridors to head down. Maybe it was the humming of the dragons that had guided her, or the hollering and shouting of people in the hatching sands? Yep, most likely. Heading into the space she considered to be a cavern of sorts, she came out into the open, looking this way and that to discover which group was her own. Girls, obviously; so that was where she went. Standing amongst the group of girls, she didn’t bother to try and push her way to the front like the rest of them. Instead she stood off to the side, so that way she was more or less amongst them, and yet on her own at the same time. She had a great view, and no one had needed to be shoved or clobbered for her to get it. Really it was peaceful, just the way she liked it.

Impressions had already been made. Dragonet’s and their newfound riders were passing by her, catching her attention for mere seconds of time before her attention was driven back to the newly hatched and the still-to-hatch. She wasn’t all that sure which dragonet’s she was supposed to be focusing on. She felt out of place, like everyone around her should be holding instruments or something instead of staring at dragons. She looked up to the stands, trying to gauge an approximate number of people. Was The Weyr full? It’d be nice to be surrounded by plenty of people once more. As much as she liked her peace, it didn’t mean she liked the knowledge of her being completely alone. An idea for a song came up into her head as she inspected her surroundings more optimistically. The dragonets were simply beautiful; they didn’t have to be hers for her to be in awe of them-did they? She could not affiliate any type-of emotions with the large creatures since she didn’t understand what the connection with one was like. She didn’t even pretend to know since she was betting it was beyond her imaginings.

A smile caught her by surprise, and she wasn’t sure why. Why was she even smiling? Because they are beautiful, she thought, entranced by all the colors and shades. All these colors, all these sounds; seen from a girl in a different town. I don’t know why I’m here, not right now, but it doesn’t matter when I look around. Got the feel of something new, and then I realize I’m right beside you. It’s you that makes me see, this town as a city. She tried to keep the lyrics in her head, her brain automatically putting a rhythm to them. She hummed it softly, more lyrics sweeping into her mind, Gold, bronze, green, and blue, then there’s a shade that’s just all you. It’s the one that I like the best, the only one that puts me at rest. This town was just a town before you made it a city, now there’s no place I’d rather be. Just want to stand right here—you and me, and let no one see what we see. Gold, bronze, green, and blue, I found my shade and it’s not even new. You’re the one that’s always been around me; take me away to where we’ll always be-right here in your heart of a city. When the lyrics in her head ceased to be she felt like she was seeing this whole even through brand-new eyes. All of a sudden beautiful wasn’t even a good enough word, and for a moment, the briefest of moments, she felt one with everyone around her.

Time was no longer an issue to her. She’d gotten here late, at least she was here, and witnessing this event. Impressing was not her main goal, her main goal was discovering her purpose. Lest her purpose be impressing, then impression could’ve very likely been that purpose! A confusing ordeal. Her black hair slipped over her shoulders when she leaned forward to try and improve her view. Was one of the dragonet’s blind? She tried to swallow down her pity, knowing that it had no place here. The girl ought to be happy with what she got, and the dragonet happy to have gotten the girl. It was like my life was on the line, before I realized that you were my eyes. Now my life is like a rainbow, and the colors are your own.

[Lirael]

The blind dragonet had Impressed! Khaya grinned, unable to hold back an excited sound. Wonderful! She'd seen the girl before, the now weyrling, though she didn't know her name. The emerald green who had been helping her sister along the way, after ascertaining that her sibling was in good hands, had turned to leave and find her own lifemate. Khaya liked how the green had been assisting her sister, and watched her move past. Her eyes wandered back across to the clutch. Just in time to witness something terrible.

A hatchling had gone between. Gone. A brown dragonet. He had been hurt, and panicking, and he'd disappeared with a wild shriek. Oh, oh Faranth. It had taken her by surprise. She had known that there weren't enough candidates to eggs, but hadn't really thought about what that meant, what would happen. How many of the clutch would die? Terribly sad keening of dragons was echoing through the cavern. Oh, how terrible! Khaya closed her eyes tight. She was so busy worrying about this that she wasn't watching the next Impression, of a very light blue.

She pulled herself out of her confused internal dialogue in time to see that the emerald green had impressed, a boy this time. Her smile returned. They looked so happy together! How wonderful! She sincerely hoped that they would do well, and be happy. She looked back to the eggs again, and the navy blue was alone, but seemingly quite content to wait and watch. And what he was watching at this point was a small black egg. Khaya watched it too. Rather clumsily, the dragonet fell from the shell, revealing himself to be another unusual colour. Still quite tense and worried from the death of the brown, she was afraid at first, thinking that he might be infected. With his strange colouring and slightly bulging green veins, and his stumbling gait, it was a reasonable fear. But looking around, she saw that his mother and the other dragons didn't seem worried, and she figured they'd know if something was wrong, so she calmed down, fighting off the panic attack that had threatened to take hold, and watched him curiously. He seemed more wobbly and unbalanced than some of the other hatchlings as he made his way towards the candidates. Khaya wondered if he was hurt in some way. She hoped not. At any rate, he'd just hatched, so it wasn't that surprising, was it? And he was hungry too, no doubt. she smiled; hatchlings were always ravenous, or so she'd heard.

The grey seemed to know exactly where he was going, despite his slowness. And where he was going was towards the girls. Khaya continued to watch him; after all, there were only the two hatchlings on the sands at the moment, and the other seemed perfectly content just to sit and wait. Anyway, this grey dragonet was interesting. Now that she'd gotten over her initial fear, she found his odd appearance quite fascinating. Her eyes traced the spidery veins that crisscrossed his hide. She hoped that she was the one he was angling towards, but knew that she had and would continue to feel that way about all of the hatchlings. Hopefully she would Impress, but Khaya was aware that it was likely she wouldn't. But she couldn't help feeling optimistic. It was her nature. If her lifemate was somewhere in this clutch, she would be here waiting. If not, well. She would be disappointed, of course, but hopefully there would be other chances. And even if there weren't, she would always treasure this experience. At least she still had family to go back to.

KhayaMine! The girl was jerked from her reverie, and glanced around, confused. The hatchling was in front of her, now, but the words couldn't have come from him. She had been daydreaming again, of course. Head in the clouds, that was her. 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.
...Not dreaming, then. She looked down in wonder at the grey- Nepteth, rather, who was now splayed out at her feet. A look of delight spread across her face, and she dropped to her knees next to him. Khaya flung her arms around the dragonet. "Nepteth," she sounded out the name, testing it. It felt like a spring nightfall on her tongue. "Oh, dearheart, of course! We'll get you something to eat, and then you can rest, okay?" She felt his assent and helped him to scramble back up.

Thank you... thank you, KhayaMine! I really am hungry, you see. And I can't quite work out my legs. But KhayaMine, can't I help you too? he gazed up at her as they walked carefully towards where the other bonded dragonets were vigorously eating. "You are, Nepteth, you are," Khaya answered, leaning into him a little. He leaned back happily, eyes whirling. Then promptly tripped over his own feet. Woops, the grey hatchling righted himself. I haven't got the hang of it yet... but I will! I promise. His lifemate grinned back at him, this time keeping a firm hold of him with an arm across his back and under his belly. Thus balanced, they moved forward, together.

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

Daromir, on the other hand, had been watching the last few impressions. That translucent dragonet had Impressed, he noted, to a girl. What was her name? Medusa? He couldn't recall. At any rate, he wished them good luck. Though he couldn't help feeling, deep down, rather jealous. He desperately wanted to Impress. He had idolised dragonriders in his childhood- no, more like throughout his whole life, and couldn't think of anything it would be more of an honour, or more important, to be. Daromir's hand tightened around the wooden beads at his neck. He had to do this, so that he could protect people like his sister. For Arianna.

The boy ran a hand through his blonde hair, sighing. "Relax," he muttered to himself. There was no point in getting worked up. It was better to stay calm, try to be the strong person he felt he should be. This calm, however, was shortlived. A hatchling, barely even out of the egg, had gone between. Daromir hadn't quite caught it. Just a flash of... brown? He barely had time to breath the word "Shards..." before the dragons' sorrowful lament began. What had gone wrong? Couldn't anything have been done to save the poor fellow? Ah, but that was unfair; any number of things could have caused this tragedy. If the dragonet had instantly known that His wasn't among the crowd, there wasn't anything anyone could have done to change the outcome. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he should have done something. Daromir bowed his head, letting the sorrowful keening fill him. A fleeting thought ran through his head; if only he could pay his respects like that. He wished he could. He wished he could do something significant to show that he cared.

A newcomer to the sands found his lifemate then, drawing Daromir's attention. He was a pale, bright blue, and looked rather frantic. The boy he had bonded with was looking equally concerned, though less so now that he had Impressed. That drew a smile from Daromir. It was amazing, the bond that was established between dragon and rider. He could only hope that he too would have the privilege.
The next to find his parter was the strangely coloured black hatchling. An elegant little thing. He was followed not long after by a green, the emerald-coloured one. She Impressed to one of the other boys, too. And then there was only one unbonded dragonet left on the hatching sands. But not for long.

Daromir was on his guard for a moment, seeing the grey hide and odd veins, but it seemed that there was nothing to worry about. The hatchling headed straight for one of the girls, albeit clumsily. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with him. That was good. If these odd colour mutations were healthy, Daromir was hopeful for the rest of the clutch.

At this point, he caught a glimpse of red from his right. He leaned backwards, trying to see past some other candidates, and noticed Turlough not far away. He glanced back at the eggs. There was only the navy blue on the sands again, and he seemed quite content to wait, so Daromir judged it safe to move. His earlier conversation with the other boy had been thought-provoking, so the least he could do was go and say hello. He quickly dodged around the people in between them and settled himself into an open space. "Hello there," he said with a grin. "How's it going?"

[Reky]

The smallest of the eggs had taken to rolling. Whatever was inside was working harder and harder to escape. The first cracks began to appear on its white shell, and it rolled and jolted some more. Slowly, between the rolling and the struggling of the dragonet inside, the cracks began to widen and entire sections of shell pulsed with the dragonet's efforts. Finally, one little snout pushed through, and a little claw helped to peel back the hard shell outside and the soft shell underneath. This, however, was all happening on the side of the egg away from the audience. The only ones who could see it were the navy, who peered with encouragement, and Sereldeth, who was otherwise occupied.

There were candidates coming in late. Jayden and Jakkin. The gold bristled, incredibly offended. Neither of them had bowed, even! Where was their respect? Avine took a mental stand, though, holding the gold somewhat at bay. Sereldeth seethed. A deep growl rolled up in her throat and her eyes snapped between Jakkin and Jayden, and the other candidates as well. What made all of them think they should be here? Since when were they good enough for her children? These... kids! That's all they were, kids! These kids were supposed to be the future of Pern! The colour had fled Avine's face in the Weyrwoman's mental battle against her dragon.

The tiny dragon from the tiny egg stared up at her mother. She seemed, to the audience, to be a tumour on the remains of her eggs, exactly the same white colour. However, when she tilted her head, the shadows on her hide showed what she really was: a mix of ever colour of dragon, the pigment undeveloped. She as a white, just like Ruth of old, and while Ruth was viewed as a runt and a mutant, this little white seemed quite normal compared to the glass and gray dragons that had hatched so far. She could tell her mother was upset. In an attempt to get the gold to cheer up, the little white let out a gigglish whistle. When Sereldeth ignored her, she went over to her navy brother, and started chirping at them. She chatted to him about their angry mother, about the candidates, and about their new brother who hatched just then from the big, swirling silver egg. The creature was undeniably a bronze, built with obvious masculinity and holding a healthy metallic sheen to his hide. However, while the majority of his body was a vibrant, almost coppery hue, he was covered in dark blotches. It almost looked like he was decaying, but he seemed fine.

The white, after remarking how dwarfed she felt by the bronze, for he really was a giant compared to her, told the blue to have and nice life and that she had to go. She'd spotted exactly what she wanted in the rows of candidates. She noticed that a boy had moved to stand beside the one she wanted, and Sereldeth had, too. Daromir moving from his position and starting a conversation in the middle of her hatching was the last straw. The white looked over her shoulder and saw her mother shifting. She ran for it, as fast as her tiny white legs could carry her.

Oh, T'lough, follow me! As much as I love a good chit-chat, now's not the time, honey! Let's gogogo! Leave him over there! Mother's rather upset, so we should leave, ahaha. It should be fine, but let's go anyways. And cheer up! You're such a downer, heehee.

[/i] Even though she was exhausted from getting out of her thick egg, the cause of her pale colour, she kept running. C'mon, T'lough, follow Cereth!



{ffffff} - giggly, gossipy, an old soul, always looks on the bright side

Cereth had the right idea. Any person in their right mind would have probably fled the scene as well, with an angry gold rising up over her clutch. Sereldeth stood straight up on all fours, unfurled her massive, metallic wings, and let loose a ground-shaking roar. She'd been lenient! Candidates had been talking before, but it hadn't stopped. There were two disrespectful lates. A boy who thought some other boy was more important than her children. She lunged forward, her massive foreclaw landing square on the egg blue Tellumoth had come from. The shards crunched beneath her. She leaned in close and screamed again, flashing her teeth at the candidates. They had better be scared!

The hatchlings were scared, too. The navy blue cowered, his eyes wide as dinnerplates and his sides heaving as he panted. The bronze wanted to get away from her massive body that hung over him like a thundercloud; he ran, awkwardly, and fell on top of one of the eggs in the first row. His weight crushed the tiny bright red thing, but he kept going. He stopped amongst the female candidates. He was breathing heavy, and he looked ashamed of himself - embarrassed for being so scared. He straightened up and looked upon his great mother and the eggs and hatchlings under her.

As if spurred on by her mother's angry bellows, another dragonet hatched full-force, leaving her dusty red egg with its whorl of crimson behind. She was streamlined, curvy, and attractive, but she was also black, like her brother who came before her. She could have been male, but she walked in the slinky, slippery way only a woman could. She seemed to draw on her mother's negative energy, eyes narrowed and whirling a vicious blood red. She was headed for the crushed red egg.

Inside it was another little glass like Decimath. The thing was shocked, but was wandering out into the world anyways. The egg was the only that had been harmed in the bronze's fall, leaving the dragonet miraculously untouched. It was incredibly small, though, and its head oddly big for its body. Bewildered, it looked around the scene, having eyes unlike Decimath, but didn't notice the black coming until it was too late. The glass' neck snapped audibly beneath the black's strong jaws, and the little dead thing was limp and dropped to the ground.

The black shook herself out, a movement akin to brushing one's hands. Her work was done. She looked around, holding her head high, and noticed that a brown had hatched and got past her radar. He's snuck to the candidates already, his pale hide almost the same colour as the sand he padded on. Just as their eyes met, he looked away, and claimed one of the boys as his own. Alright, S'ven. You and Saturneth can go now. The brown cast the black another wary look, and then left with His.



{d4af94} - calm, sly, knows what he's doing, ladies' man

The black snorted. She did another sweep over the eggs. Her mother had retreated back to her previous spot, hunched like a gargoyle and watching the candidates closely. The black trusted her mother to take care of anything else that might go wrong, so she trotted off to the boys' side of the candidates and began to look them over.

The bronze was still amongst the girls, even though he knew he didn't want any of them. He wouldn't let the black scare him off, though, and so he left the girls and went to stand in front of the semicircle of boys. He looked at them afar, letting the black be the one to weave in an out. And while the girls were left without a dragon to ponder them, the poor frightened navy blue finally came forward. He took his time; he didn't need to go fast. When she'd showed up, though, he had noticed. He just didn't rush at her. Now, though, he'd seen enough of the hatching. He wanted Her, now, and nothing else. With a gentle croon that shook because he was still a little frightened, he curled around Jayden's leg.

Forth is glad you came, Jayden, he said quietly. I knew you would. He looked up at her, eyes whirling red-orange with hunger. She was definitely the right one. He felt it in every fiber of his being.



{03131d} - observant, curious, patient, never in a rush, rarely leaves His[/size][/blockquote]

[Purnip]

Just as many of the others in his position, Turlough was not able to really see what hatched in the far row. At first glimpse he thought it was another translucent, but she was far smoother in color than her Glass sisters. A metallic dragon hatched shortly after, which the boy was able to identify for a change as a Bronze. It was then that he began to realize how many mutations came of this clutch in comparison to the colors of old. When he arrived, he knew the basics--Gold, Bronze, Brown, Blue, and Green. He didn't know about Ruth, as many of those that never lived in or around weyrs might have. Mutations like these must have been direct consequences of that mating flight with an infected dragon as the sire. It didn't really make a ton of sense to the red-head, but he wasn't a scientist. He knew precious little of biology. This was a miracle, at least thus far. None of these dragons were thirsty for blood or brains and with the exception of one, they were all Impressing healthily.

"Hello there. How's it going?"

Turlough nearly cried out and swept at Daromir, but he merely jumped and turned sharply to face him as he recognized the voice. "Daromir!" He whispered the name in a harsh, scolding fashion. It was clear to see that this unexpected greeting upset the boy, but he calmed slightly and looked away towards the clutch again, noting the stern face of displeasure on the towering Gold. "Fine. I just want to get through this alive," he said, as if speaking to both the dragon and his fellow Candidate. He could hear the whistling of the tiny dragonet communicating to her brother, but he was growing wary of Sereldeth's posture. She looked as if she were just about ready to pounce on the boys, and Turlough had no idea why. Maybe she heard Daromir talking. Maybe it was the two boys who showed up late that pulled the last straw free. Whatever it was, the red-head grew tight lipped and ten inches smaller when she glared at the lot like an irritated lioness protecting her young might glare at stupid, juvenile hyenas. He wanted to make it absolutely clear that he meant no disrespect. To be taken out by a zombie was understandable, but to be killed by something quite sane just seemed embarrassing.

She was staring right at him. Two, gleaming red eyes and the most terrifying expression fixed on that behemoth of a dragon's face. That's it. It's over. End of the line. If only I could have...if only I...

Oh, T'lough, follow me! As much as I love a good chit-chat, now's not the time, honey! Let's gogogo! Leave him over there! Mother's rather upset, so we should leave, ahaha. It should be fine, but let's go anyways. And cheer up! You're such a downer, heehee.[/i]

It sounded as if now, in his final hour, some elderly fairy chattered these words into his mind, as if she discovered a place to hide somewhere outside this reality and save him from his untimely demise. He was still standing there, staring at Sereldeth as she got to her feet, frozen on the spot as if she paralyzed him with those big ruby eyes.

C'mon, T'lough, follow Cereth! Cereth wasn't large, as the color of her hide constituted, but she knew what needed to be done. She circled about him and flicked the boy with her tail, coaxing him before butting her head softly against his thigh. C'mon, honey!

As if jumped like an old car, T'lough was suddenly functional as well as mobile. He backed away, nearly tripping over his skippy White as she lead the way behind him. He hadn't quite grasped the fact that he Impressed just yet, being overwhelmed by that fearsome roar of Sereldeth's that soon followed. She had even crushed the egg of one of her own, thankfully unoccupied. The boy was able to breathe easy as the Gold finally settled down a bit, but something felt different about himself that he couldn't quite explain. And of course there was that mystery of the elderly voice and the missing White that had been chatting with her brothers not too long ago.

Hehehe! Mother's frightened you a great deal! Do turn to face your Cereth. Show me a smile!

T'lough did turn, trying to seek out the source of this voice that rang in his head. He wasn't going insane at all, much to his relief. There stood the pristine dragonet that was missing from the clutch, right by his side and staring up at him with joyous, swirling eyes. He was fixed on those colors, and slowly consumed by feelings of joy and elation. He was alive after all, and all the better, a future dragonrider as well. Though he couldn't imagine Cereth growing to be large enough to ride--she was practically the size of a medium-heighted canine. But she was a dragon, and she had chosen him. He started to feel ashamed that he hadn't acknowledged her until now. "I'm-um...sorry about..."

Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, dear! she interrupted, giggling in a perky perky yet kind fashion. Now where's that lovely smile you owe me?

Right. He never did smile much these days. T'lough did feel good, but it was a euphoria that felt blanketed over all the more negative, truer feelings within him. Still, he tried. It didn't look as awkward as one might expect, but it wasn't a toothy grin or anything of that sort. It was merely an upturning of the edges of his mouth and a slight crease underneath his cheeks. It faded slowly as he reached out to touch the young dragon, as if making sure to check if she was really there, and she rose her nose so he could place a hand over her snout. "You...you actually picked me?"

Cereth seemed to be a little taken aback by this. But of course! Ha! No one else here needs me like you do, and I need no one else but you! She flicked her tail as she made chuckling noises. Come come! Let's come away! No doubt that we'll be safer on the sidelines, hehehe!"[/i]

T'lough watched the White skip towards her other bonded siblings, whilst glancing over her shoulder with every other step. He started to follow, fighting the urge to look back. He didn't really need to though. He had Cereth now, for better or for worse. She had quite the spirit--he'd give her that. He wondered if others will hatch that looked like her, because she couldn't have been a Glass. Well, he didn't care too much about what color she was. He just hoped she would grow up soon. He was worried about losing her already, though they had just met. How could he be so attached to something so quickly after just meeting? He knew he had to be open to this from the start. He knew something like this was likely to happen. The sooner she grew up, the safer she'd be. T'lough wanted no hard to come to his Cereth.

-----

Nebel finally found himself a decent spot to stand in somewhere near the inner edge of the crowd, where he would temporarily stake his spot until he felt inclined to leave it. He could see far better now, though he was positioned closer to the side of the semi-circle rather than in the middle. Now those spots were hard to squirm into. But from his vantage he was able to see the White and Bronze hatch just before the Gold went bonkers. The cook swelled with anticipation when Sereldeth seemed to come awfully close to tearing the boys apart for their rudeness. He wouldn't be able to make use of them later on because everyone would expect their bodies for burial, but at least it would have been a show and a half to see.

The colors were only mildly interesting to the man, who didn't care much about dragons to begin with. He only wondered what the colors would mean because it gave his bored mind something to curl over. The White Impressed to some red-headed Candidate during the whole disappointment--which Sereldeth's overall lack of action proved to be when she simply sat back down instead of drawing blood from one of the boys. How uneventful! So not a single zombie dragon and the rest happen to be a lot of pansies! It said a lot about the future of dragonkind. Nebel was about to abandon all hope of this Hatching becoming interesting until a Black, fueled by her mother's anger, snapped the neck of one of her siblings in her fit of rage.

The man sighed, because as much as he could identify with and respect that dragon for her actions, they wouldn't be any more acceptable in society than the horrors he committed. If only Avine knew! He'd be kicked out or hung at an instant! Yet the Black wasn't being placed on a scaffold or booted off the Sands. She was free to bully her remaining siblings as she pleased, including her Bronze brother who carefully picked his way to the boys, wary of her watch. So perhaps the dragons had it better, aside from the fact that they would have to share their flaws with humans for the rest of their lives or die alone. In the end Nebel was glad he wasn't like them, despite the lack of social ostracizing the Black was achieving.

But it was still a boring Hatching. This was the sort of stuff that could happen at any other such event before the Ending Fall. What he really hoped to see was some calamity. He wanted a chaos to erupt that would cut numbers in half and send the death toll up enough for him to slip away with some fresh meat tonight and go unnoticed. Fat chance. Another yawn and he watched on with arms folded. He'd give the Hatching another few minutes before he left to the kitchens again. If setting up tables wasn't such a dull task he would have never left in the first place. He liked to cook and little else in the kitchen. Once in a while he liked to sharpen knifes and repair other wares to keep them in top shape, but that was all. Everything else just came with the territory.
[/size]

[gulo]

Why did the gold have to notice? Shouldn’t she be busy worrying about her fledglings. Jakkin met the Gold’s fierce gaze, with an apologetic glance. He had been late, it was his fault she was upset – and he wasn’t going to snivel like someone thin-skinned. On the spot he gave a betterlatethannever bow. He only dared to pull himself up as a few more hatched.

His stomach growled, and despite the warmth of where the eggs were laid - he was freezing. Not from fear, but apprehension. What if he wasn't to impress? Jakkin wasn't sure what he'd do with himself. Maybe The Weyr needed a watchwher. At the least he knew how to deal with those. He knew as much as the other candidates about dragons, but he felt as though he'd muck it up somehow - or that the dragon, being around someone so dour would be just as biting as he. He shook his head. This was a new start. What he wanted, right?

A white. There were was tales of just one, maybe this rare color would bring some luck to the hatching. A bronze, also good fortune. He respectfully clapped as the white impressed, but froze rather stupidly with his hands in the air as the gold reared. Sereldeth must have been angry. He wheeled around, it couldn’t have been him again could it? He felt as though his ears were being boxes as the gold roared. He didn’t have to be told twice not to be late again!
He was usually a very punctual person, mentally he was cursing at himself. Why did Ziggy have to be a brat, today of all days!

Scared for the dragonets more than himself, he kept himself from yelling out of fright as the gold landed on her own eggs. The fledglings scattered, but the roars seemed to subside for now. A black slunk along the sands, fixing her eyes on a goal. A struggling glass colored dragon, numb from shock – it didn’t have a chance. He tore his gaze away from the grizzly scene. Bluntly, he thought maybe the glass wasn’t strong enough and the black was putting it out of it’s misery. Maybe this would make a pretty painting. Red was his favorite color to use anyway.

He found his hand moving at his side, as he envisioned what he would draw later. Mentally he checked the stock of plants he had for his colors. This is how he dealt with stress. Paint paint paint. What he had. What was in the room. How much of something he had. He felt himself calm down quickly, as he thought of the familiar. Maybe he'd put red splotches on his flitter later.


Where was that little bronze anyway? He hoped dearly he wasn't making any mischief for the sake of the queen. She'd probably eat the little flit and not bat an eye. He scanned the area a moment, until finding where he ended up perching - atop a basket of glows. His eyes whirring encouraging colors, even though the lad could not make them out.

Jakkin stood up on his toes trying to get a better view, and not daring to catch his breath from his scare. At least there was hope. A strong looking brown impressed, and if he knew what he was seeing, as did a blue. At least with each dragonet impressed, that was more strength to The Weyr. He held onto that thought as the black paced the sands.

[Lesa]

She should have known something would have to go wrong - everything was too perfect, aside from the brown betweening. For a clutch in which the father had something so intrinsically wrong with him... it was too good to be true. The fact that the ruckus wasn't exactly being caused by the father, or even the hatchlings, was immaterial. Gwynell didn't know what had caused Sereldeth to react as she had. All she knew was the gold had become violent.

Well, that and she was acting as protective of her 'charges' as any gold to her eggs: case in point in front of her; she swept Kella and Utoli behind her as the girls shrieked in fear, holding back her own cursing, barely. She clearly couldn't protect the boys, but a look showed Aliman doing as she was, stepping in front of the boys. Not that she thought Sereldeth would precisely do anything to them, the Weyrwoman had to have at least that much control, but the protective move still occurred, and made it easier for the girls to hug her as they wished to in their terror.

She was frightened too, that she admitted freely: who wouldn't be at least a little scared of a rampaging full-grown gold dragon? Hers wasn't a run-around gibbering in fear type of fear, rather a fear of what would happen to someone should they get stepped on. They die, generally. She wasn't afraid of dying, as long as her charges were safe. They were now. So if she died taking care of them, it was a good death. She was more afraid of getting injured not to the point of death, but to the point of not being able to do anything. That would be the worst, being stuck unable to move, unable to help. It was, in its way, a fate worse than death, at least to her.

Sereldeth was wild - but her black child was savage. Gwynell watched in dismay as the black tore into a little glass, breaking the neck with efficiency. A growling whimper - fear and anger and dismay - rose and fell in her throat as she felt wetness on her shoulder. Gentle Kella was sobbing. The Harper stroked the other girl's hair, Utoli moving to hug Mackenzie, leaving her free to comfort Kella; attempting to soothe, blue eyes skipping from the bronze wandering his way out of the females to the killer black winding her way through the boys. She rocked in place, hands soothing on Kella's hair, humming low in her chest, a rumble like Halbert's purr, or the closest she could manage as a human.

--

K'nan leapt to his feet, the last bits of meatroll falling from his hand when Sereldeth roared. An involuntary cry rose from his throat at Sereldeth's display. Not good! He ignored Chalchiuith's scolding him to better stare at Sereldeth, the meatroll forgotten. As long as she didn't hurt anyone... he breathed a sigh of relief as she seemed to calm, only to feel sick again as dragonet killed dragonet. Good Faranth... was it possible for him to feel sicker than he did now? Not without anger, as he had with Maddox. Then he had been sick and angry and disgusted. Now he was just sick. Sick and tired.

Not what one should be at a Hatching, especially this Hatching, this Hatching that if it went wrong, meant the future of Pern was practically doomed.[/size]

[Purnip]

The funny thing was, just when Sereldeth was finally calming down, Aldernon was reluctant to join the other Candidates from the sidelines.

He didn't mean to be this late. It wasn't his fault that he could sleep through anything these days. He had this distinct feeling that if he dared to show his face, the Gold would have a perfect target to make an example out of. So far, no one noticed him just yet. He tried not to be seen by anyone he knew, because he'd rather be gutted like a fish than be accused of being yellow bellied, and he didn't want either or. Good Faranth--he missed a lot. About half the eggs were hatched already. Getting on his toes, Alder tried to peer about the few people in front of him, who hadn't yet noticed they were accompanied by a Candidate that ought to have been in the center instead. If he could find away to sneak around, maybe when the attention was focused on something really interesting, he could slip in and pretend he'd been there all along. Oh! Where did you come from?Sorry braw, been here all 'long. And who would be around to question it? No one, that's who. Because no one questioned Alder anyhow.

It was going to be pretty tough though. It wasn't as if the Candidates were against the edge of the crowd. On top of that, he didn't feel like being a sneak.

"Welly, well. You're not supposed to be here, are you?"

Aldernon jerked around when a hand fell on his shoulder, but he brushed off his quakes and looked the strange man in the eye. "Just got 'ere and all that," he replied, in a manner that heavily implied a 'so what?' type of response. Something about this guy unnerved him, and that didn't happen with just about any stranger. He knew him, or at least no better than all the other Candidates did. He worked in the kitchens, mostly behind the scenes but everyone knew that dinner would be great for a change if he was in charge some evenings. Yet the way he smiled down at him, and that predator's glint in his eye, well...it could probably unnerve Sereldeth herself. He continued to lock eyes with this man, who just seemed to be amused by his response. "What? You think that's funny? I could get ripped ta shreds, you know what I'm saying?"

"You can," Nebel mused, now watching Sereldeth finally settle. He couldn't say that he wasn't hoping for such a thing. "Or you can wait out here and let the show go on without you."

Of course he wasn't. Alder couldn't back out now, with that man staring so condescendingly at him. His features hardened as he came to terms with the fact that his blood could end up painting the Sands for his tardiness.

"Just remember to bow," Nebel said, and he knew he shouldn't have if he wanted to see something real interesting. But the boy was interesting enough in himself and there were other Candidates he would have been more willing to see be torn in half. Ones that never appreciated his work or made fun of him behind his back. They were few and far in between, but he knew Alder wasn't one of them. He could hardly remember the dark-haired kid at all.

"Yea, yea." Alder turned away and started to nudge his way past the thin layer of humanity that stood before him. They were more than willing to part when they realized he was a Candidate, but he could tell by the hints of fear on their faces that they thought he had a snowball's chance in hell of getting past Sereldeth's radar without a scar at the very least. It wouldn't be the first scar on his body, that's for sure. Once he had a clear path ahead of him, he swallowed up his fears and marched out, remembering what the creepy cook told him. He stood half way there and gave a long bow, just to be sure. He couldn't let the others see him quake in his shoes like a coward. He was grateful as could be that Lucas wasn't here to see him. The memory of his brother didn't help very much. He still had no clue where he was taken, and it ought to have been here, or where else? Benden maybe. He heard that weyr was still functional. Where ever he was, Aldernon had to stay alive long enough to find out. He finished his bow and carefully picked his way to the group, trying his hardest not to give the Gold his back. If he were to be attacked he at LEAST wanted to see it coming.

[pocketowl]

Ephedrath was riding the thermals that tunneled up from the old Northern Continent. By Sambar's reckoning they were over what once must have been Nerat Hold. She pondered briefly whether or not it was still Nerat Hold, if its name was somehow tied to sheltering people within its walls. Not that it mattered--there were no people left there now. The only response to her hallooing came from zombies, several of which poured out of the defunct Hold doorways, moaning and snarling at the prey they could not reach. Ephedrath answered them with spurts of fire, the pleasure at destroying Thread outweighed by the sorrow he felt for that Thread having a face and a name.

They don't have names now. It's just Virus Thread. They don't have anything living inside of them anymore, so they don't have names, Sambar told him. She did her best not to let on that it saddened her too, thatshe regretted that they had started carrying less emergency provisions and instead took to chewing firestone for these forays into the wasteland. There were fewer people to rescue these days and many more to burn. They swept once more over what used to be Nerat Hold--because without anything living inside of it, it had no name, Sambar had decided--Ephedrath letting out a last bugle to draw their foes out of hiding. His angry trumpet choked out half-way through, giving rise to a more pleasant hum. Even his rider, who had long since ceased to be surprised by her Blue, started at the sound. They blinked between without a word, leaving only a few charred scorch marks and one last zombie, slow and confused, to stagger after a meal that it would never find.

They appeared at the far end of The Weyr, Ephedrath humming all the louder so that his voice might reach his kin already waiting by the Sands. He wheeled tightly, landing just long enough to expel the ash in his stomach--wouldn't that be a breach of etiquette, being ill in front of the Queen dragon, at her own Hatching no less!--before they set off for the Sands. The Weyr was not so big that flight was a necessity and so, rather than take to the sky again, Ephedrath broke into an easy lope. It was but a moment's work to get there, and quieter by far than the business of flapping in would have been. A quiet entrance seemed like just the right thing for the moment, too, for there was an air of muted terror being shared among the onlookers.

What has happened, Mine? This is not the way it ought to be, Ephedrath mused, stepping neatly over the nearest line of grounded audience so that he might instead climb a ledge. He did so as quietly as possible, keeping a low profile so that he would not disturb the brooding Gold. Sereldeth's presence put him ill at ease. He was intensely devoted to her, of course--what she said was--but he could never predict her, and so his respect was tinged with worry. She will not be angry with us for being late, will she? I am humming very nicely now. Maybe she will notice and she will not be angry, because I really am humming very nicely.

Sambar was only paying half of her attention to Ephedrath's mutterings. She had picked out the broken body of a dragonet down below, although it was hard to see, the color of the sand seeming to show right through the edges of its flesh. As her Blue settled onto a ledge just large enough for the both of them she took note of the green ichor seeping onto the sand. She made a thin noise of disgust. Ephedrath only hummed a lower note in surprise; he could not make as much sense of the scene below as his rider could, and she was being very careful to hide the extent of her knowledge from him. Something had killed a young dragon... likely another dragon. Had it been Sereldeth? or a hatchling? Neither was acceptable, and the last thing she needed was for her dear Blue to start fretting or keening.

S'bar, I do not understand. His voice was only a whisper in her head, reverting to the old nickname had had come up with for her their first night after Impression. Sambar was no man, but there was enough masculinity in her to make it seem fitting, and Ephedrath took some comfort in that. She stroked his eyeridges to distract his attention away from the confusion-hurt-sad that was creeping into his belly. Hush now, things have not gone as they were meant to, but nothing can be done now. Be brave, watch the pretty little things hatch. One of them might even be a pleasant dalliance for us someday, hmm? She cast a reckoning eye at the semicircle of girls and leaned back into the crook of her dragon's elbow, arms crossed firmly over her chest.

---

Aithbhre sensed a presence to her left and so glanced away as quickly as possible to see what it was that was trying to get her attention. Oh... that girl. Jubilee. The drudge didn't so much frown as let her face settle into an expression of blank and grim determination. She would not be forced into unnecessary chatter now, even if other Candidates seemed to be indulging in just that. She didn't disapprove but she would not join them, and she began hoping that Jubilee would not try to lure her into a conversation.

Circumstance saved her from the looming threat of needing to speak, although what future doom it promised she had no way of knowing. She had not noticed the latecomers, too focused instead on the increasingly hostile body language of the Queen dragon. They were not so difficult to read, dragons. Even without knowing that red eyes were full of anger, she could see it in the way that Sereldeth hunched and tensed, like a spring winding down, being pushed and pushed until it had no choice but to snap. The first roar shook her down to her toes but she did not move, did not make a single sound, for she had been expecting the spring to snap eventually. Several of the Candidates flinched away as the Gold fell towards them, eggshells crunching beneath her claws, but Aithbhre was as rooted as a tree. She hunched her shoulders inward, as if holding her balance against a wind that was trying to push her back, emanating from the snarling dragon mother. She would not be moved.

She thought for a brief, hopeful moment that the worst had passed. She tried to take stock of the dragonets that had just hatched, intent that no more should go between while she wasn't looking. She was just in time to see the Black winding sinuously towards another of the pale, translucent dragons. She made no noise as another dragonet died, and for no better a reason than the first had. There had been nothing anyone could do, not so quickly as that. A kind look did nothing for the little glass beast bleeding on the Sands.

With a jerky motion--for she had locked herself in place against Sereldeth's onslaught, and uprooting her body from so firm a position took strength--Aithbhre slid a few paces to her left and forward, placing herself nearly in front of Jubilee and a few other female Candidates, who had fallen back already. It was a protective gesture. If she could not save dragons, then perhaps she might be a moment's distraction if dragon tried to kill human. Her eyes followed the movement of the Black, finding small relief in the fact that it was nearer the boys now. She could not be a shield for everyone, but at the same time, this was the first dragon that she worried about someone Impressing. What if it chose to bond to a good person, someone soft and kind, what would it do to them? Or worse, what if its chosen was also cruel, and their combined malice made short work of others? She willed the Black dragon to not exist, to simply go away and to shed no more blood. It didn't work, of course, so she simply dug her heels into the sand as best she could, once again a scrawny, immovable force.

[SaiDalTam]

Getting to the Weyr had been something of a hardship, coming as she had been by foot and on borrowed passage from one island to the next as she traveled. It had, frankly, never occurred to Caeloran that she might be able to get to the Weyr by asking a dragonrider to transport her. The dragonmen were scarce, these days, and with good reason. As badly as the numbers of men had been decimated, the numbers of dragons had been obliterated. There were too few remaining for her to have counted on reliable transportation from one of them, and so, she had discounted the notion before she'd even begun.

Unfortunately, going by foot and by boat is slow, and she'd barely arrived this very day, the hatching already underway and riders already gone to the sands. There was nobody to report to to inform of her intentions and no one to provide her with an explanation of the proper forms for this sort of thing. That was alright, though. She was hardly going to stand on ceremony and let that nonsense stop her. She was here to change the world, and fat lot of good she'd be at that if she let such a little stumbling block get in her way.

It wasn't hard to figure out where the hatching was. Everyone was gathered in or going to the same place, and the telltale hum of dragons and murmur of voices betrayed it, even if the chatter of eager weyrfolk wouldn't have. Cael hung close to the wall and low to the ground, lurking just outside of the stone semicircle surrounding the sands, peered around the edge, and debated her next move. She was fairly sure she could get out there. She just wasn't so sure she could do it and not be driven off right away. She had none of the usual accouterments of a candidate, she had no idea what the proper forms were for this sort of thing to avoid offending the mother, and, frankly, she was going to stick out like a sore thumb as an unknown. She knew all that.

Still... if she didn't try, she couldn't Impress. Shrugging, she tugged the careworn, borrowed coat she was wearing a bit closer about herself and ducked around the stone edifice, taking a half-step onto the sands.

In a rare show of touching concern, Kourteth had made all haste to the sands for the hatching. It only made sense, really. After all, it was the survival of his species on the line out there. N'kaio understood. He really did. He appreciated, as well, the running commentary the brown was providing him with.

He did not appreciate having to walk to the sands from down by the Weyrhold.

Nevertheless, better one of them was on time, at least, and it wasn't as though he was missing it. Besides, he was basically there, now. The sights and sounds were pouring out of the sands with such a vibrance that he could not possibly have missed the going-ons if he had tried. Circling around the stone, he made his way toward the far end of the sands, intending to join the crowd, when his eye lighted on something unusual.

What in Faranth's name was a little girl doing trying to sneak out onto the sands? She was going to get herself mauled! Letting out a low snarl, he grabbed the fool child by the back of her oversized coat and dragged her back, dangling her a foot and a half above the ground. "What do you shardin' well think you're doing?" he snapped in a low hiss.

This had better be good.

Caeloran yelped, a quick, sharp sound, as she abruptly felt herself dangling midair by her coat - a very uncomfortable position to be in. Flailing, she twisted around to stare into the craggy, scowling face of the man who'd caught her, even as his snappish words cut through the air between them.

A scowl lit her own features in reply. "Oi!" she snapped right back at him, dropping her voice to a soft enough level not to cause a stir with the dragons. "'Oo d' ye shardin' well reckon ye are!? Wha' right 've ye go' t' be draggin' me 'bout like 'n ou'sized pup? Lemme go! Pu' me down!"

When he only darkened his scowl, however, and made no move to comply, her irritation darkened to anger. How dare he? What right had he to stop her? She had come all this way, and shaffitall, she was not going to be stopped by some sharding wherrybrain with no idea who she was or what she was ready to do. She had plans, and he was interfering! Alright, so this was his place, first, and he probably had more right to be here than she did, but sharditall, she was not going to be stopped! This was too important.

She just had to figure out how she was going to get away from him...

[Lan]

As eggs began rocking again, Elana felt the same anticipation welling up in her as when the first dragons had hatched. There had been lots of new dragons that had made their way to the sand today, and she found herself wondering if these new colors were going to be the majority. So far there were still greens and blues, which the smith remembered as being like the dragons of old, but all others (except for that star-crossed brown) had been of newer shades. The black, the glass, the grey... they were totally unprecedented. Just then, however, another egg broke that would bring back a familiar and affectionate face. Right then Elana couldn't see it, as she watched the bundle of eggs where the movement had come from for a glimpse of the dragonet that had just hatched. Slowly, but surely, the hatchling came out into the open, and soon the girl saw that it was a white, a blend of all the colors like Ruth was said to be.

It was a delightful sight, being able to see a white like the one she had heard about in tales of harpers and word of mouth. However, momentarily her attention was dragged away by the new presence of a bronze on the sands. It was the largest of the dragons to hatch so far, and he looked very stately and aware of this fact. Yet her attentions were dragged quite suddenly to the mother of such interesting creatures. Her agitation had reached a climax at that point toward some unruly candidates that had arrived late. At first Elana wondered if there might be more than dragonet deaths this day, when out of the blue a flash of white bounded across the sands toward the particular boy that was in the line of sights of the golden mother. This seemed to do the trick as the white managed to pull the boy away from the fuming gold. However, the gold was not to be placated so easily. As she roared Elana instinctively covered her ears, clenching her eyes shut as if that could block out some of the sound as well. It reminded her that there was still life and death stakes going on right here on the sands. While not totally afraid, her respect heightened. She stood her ground, knowing not how else to react, and when finally Sereldeth calmed her fury... for the moment.

When the smith opened her eyes she saw that the bronze had made his way over to where the female candidates were, and for a split second seemed almost frightened before he straightened himself back to a proper masculine posture. It seemed funny, that he had run away and come to stop over there by the female candidates. Bronzes never impressed to females, or at least that was what she had been instilled with since a young age of the stories of the manly and handsome bronzerider leaders. Not that she believed all of them to be handsome... surely not all males who impressed bronzes were handsome. It seemed nonsensical for such a high-ranking dragon to be so shallow. Yet her analytical thoughts were cut short there... for another dragonet had hatched. It was a black, much like the black that had hatched before, except this one had a distinctly female air. She was graceful and slinky, like a cat. Yet there was also something off about her. Elana couldn't quite place it, but she didn't entirely trust this dragonet.

Another glass had hatched not far away, and this one seemed less deformed than her other sister. She looked like she stood more of a chance, too. That is, until the shady black dragonet sunk her jaws into her smaller and less fortunate sister. The sound of the smaller hatchling's neck cracking was sickening, stirring what was left of Elana's supper inside her stomach. How cruel! Did that really just happen? She looked to the gold Sereldeth to see what the mother's reaction would be. But... she just stood there. It seemed really odd that the gold, who was so bristled by candidate's talking, would not give a wink about one of her babies killing the rest of her offspring. It didn't sit well with Elana. Still, she turned her eyes back to the sands. It wouldn't do well not to keep an eye on that murderous black, after all. She wanted to be given the opportunity to dodge, if need be.

Fortunately there was no more chance for the black to kill any more of her siblings for the time being. A brown had hatched healthy and had made his way over to the male candidates before Elana had even caught sight of him. The navy blue, too, had finally impressed and the bronze was making his way over to the male candidates. Now it was just the two larger beasts, one passive and the other looking out to be on a killing spree. What would happen next, the young woman couldn't guess.