[Log] Claim That One
Who: Adria, Aivey, E'sere, Esseira, Jedja, Kesida, L'dor, Raliah, Zadzdyr/Z'dyr
When: Day 27, Month 11, Turn 375
Where: Hatching Sands, Benden Weyr
What: Feliath and Morelenth's clutch hatches, with interesting results.
The walls of the Weyr suddenly come alive with thrumming, the sound a wave from the Hatching Cavern that rolls outwards. Some drop what they're doing in startlement, others just calmly put away their work and start moving towards the Hatching Cavern.
This may be the most sparsely attended hatching that Benden has ever seen. Thirty-six eggs lie on the Hatching Grounds, scattered in no obvious order and some half-hidden by sand. One egg is set apart, its size and bright buttery colour leaving no doubt that a queen waits within. The eggs are starting to move, first one then another shaking itself free of the clinging grains. Above, the galleries can't be described as full, or even filling, but the dragonriders and the few crafters and weyrfolk are arriving and finding places on front row seats or the dragon ledges. Some, distinguished by their tans, have come directly from the Southern settlement to witness this occasion, as finally the time-travellers' purpose is being realised.
Feliath's eyes are whirling as the eggs before her begin shaking. Her thrum is among those echoing across the weyr, while Jedja stands anxiously at her side. Hands wringing, eyes casting over the eggs and occasionally to the queen egg set apart, she murmurs something to the gold before laying a calming hand upon Feliath's shoulder. It doesn't seem to help Feliath any, for she remains anxious and excited, her tail sweeping slightly behind her is an obvious give. Jedja, too distracted herself with scanning the Sands entrance, fails to see.
E'sere is one of those calm ones, heading at an almost lazy pace toward the hatching grounds, though the broad grin on his face is excitement enough as he heads out onto sands to join Jedja and the clutchparents. Morelenth is very still, almost unnaturally so as he skulks by the queen and hums himself, eyeing the eggs but in particular that gold one--all of them seem to fascinate him. E'sere offers, as he comes to stand with Jedja, a quick smile to the woman before his own eyes stray to the eggs. "This is going to be amazing," he notes.
L'dor has beaten most of the candidates onto the Sands. He's one of those standing ready to assist the new riders and dragons, and for once he's wearing his smartest outfit and even his wingsecond's knot. For the moment, standing is all he's doing, and that safely out of the way at the edge of the Sands where he's got a good view of the proceedings.
Adria is calm as she strides in from the outer caverns, wearing pretty much the same thing she usually does - though there's a stiffness to her carriage and movement that isn't normally there, her amber eyes a bit wider than the might be. But these are tiny things in the melee that is the hatching, so barely noticable - she simply lets out a long, slow breath, then makes her way over where L'dor, and presumably Geneve, are standing. With a curt nod, her gaze turns to the eggs, level and serious.
Jedja's smile brightens noticeably when E'sere is spotted, and she extends a hand toward him with an intent at receiving his in return. "You're being kind. I don't think that'll quite cover it." A brief pause hazards a quieter addition, "Thank you for agreeing, by the way. I know it can't be... well... thank you." A lilt in Feliath's humming redirects Jedja's attentions to the Sands; Jedja's attention falls there, for the time being.
L'dor raises a hand in silent greeting to Adria, but he too is mostly concentrating on the scene: the eggs, the clutchparents, the entering candidates.
Dressed in the traditional candidate's garb, Zadzdyr makes his entrance with the male candidates. He's managing to look nervous and excited at the same time - at the moment more the former than the latter, though once he's gone through the motions of bowing and then picking a spot to stand in, he's looking more enthralled than anything else. His wide eyes fix on the eggs while he shifts subtly from foot to foot, trying not to let his discomfort show. He's nearer the eggs than most of the boys, and no doubt has a good view.
Aivey's along with all those other candidate types, quite near the back of the line and looking as self conscious as a sore thumb in the midst of hand models. A tie has her hair bound back and from her face and habit finds her reaching up to tug on a strand of hair that is no longer there to be tugged upon. As she steps across the sands toward the queen egg, a furtive look is cast toward the clutch parents, the quad earning a single bow before she positions herself at the forefront of that half circle.
Kesida steps onto the Sands with the other Candidates. Her head is down, carefully placing each step on the shifting ground. She bows low to the clutchparents and then takes up her position slightly behind another one of the Candidates. Her eyes look up once to take in the entierity of her situation, and then her focus is on the eggs, warily shifting her weight.
E'sere, own hand offered, quirks a wry grin to Jedja, shoulders lifting. "Three dozen eggs and among them a queen? Our full wings can't manage thirty-six dragons at the Reaches, let alone a single clutch," he remarks, shaking his head. "Whatever happens, it will be impressive. And--oh, no, don't thank me. It's the very least I could do, and, I have to say, I do like the view from down here. Morelenth feels better for my being close, too, I think." As Adria enters, and L'dor, E'sere lifts a hand toward both, offering a wordless greeting to the pair, along with a easy grin. He doesn't look flustered or nervous a bit, though when the candidates enter, his eyes find Aivey in the line and linger there longer than on the others arriving.
The first egg cracks and splits to reveal an alert bronze hatchling. He's the first to Impress, too, charging across the sand to butt at the knees of one of the handymen. A murmur runs round the galleries as his colour is seen: is Benden due for some good luck at last? Other impressions soon follow: blues, greens, a spindly-legged brown. Other eggs are rocking vigorously but the single gold egg is motionless as yet, though almost every young female in the Weyr is standing expectantly round it in a loose circle.
As the thrumming begins, Esseira's movements are brisk as she ceases her task and, if anybody watches the assistant headwoman, she disappears inside her quaters before reappearing in white. Quick are her steps as she goes to the Sands, and even as she appears upon them, right in the middle of the mix of candidates. Her hair is tied back and up--something quick and less than ornate, it bobs as she steps, pausing only when she bows low for the clutchparents and their riders, before she moves to stand near that buttery-colored egg in the loose circle about it.
Raliah comes strolling in behind Esseira, looking as calm as ever -- well, calm when you factor in that she's just a kid. She looks serene, but fidgets just a bit, hand moving up to pat at her hair, at the hem of her robes. The girl remains firmly at Esseira's side, eyes flicking to watch the first hatchling for half a moment with a smile. "That's good, eh?" she mutters to the young woman, then turns her attention to the focus of the various girls' attentions, the egg they're surrounding.
Aivey, openly oblivious to the lingering study from E'sere or anyone else, stays quite fixed where she's chosen to stand. Her hands are hooked before her, her chin tipped down and eyes closed with tight concentration on that large, large egg. The only nervous tic to come from her is the occasional bitting of her lower lip or rarer still, an impatient little puff of breath.
Zadzdyr 'oohs', a low and quiet sound, when the first egg hatches a bronze. That seems to trigger the cracking of other eggs, and soon Zad's eyes are darting left and right, his head barely turning, as he keeps track of who's Impressing. He seems pretty calm now, breathing deeply, and when he's watching the remaining eggs he seems focused.
"So you agree then, with all the other whispers... that Morelenth's a fluke?" Jedja replies, sounding quite serious but for the slightest twitch of her lips. "It is a good thing that you've managed to remain so humble through all of this." Jedja spares a moment from egg staring to glance at the bronze, but when the Candidates arrive, her attention returns to them to offer a smile of support. At the first impression, Jedja gently squeezes E'sere's hand but rather quickly focuses on Adria.
"Bronze!" says E'sere, triumphant as he sees that dragon hatch; Morelenth's eyes track the bronze's progress to his rider, then settle on the other eggs cracking open to let their occupants find mates. E'sere is doing his best to keep up with everything, looking as impressed as he foretold by the speed when things get underway. "A fluke? Perhaps," he answers Jedja, biting back his own delighted smirk at her teasing. "But of the best sort, if that's the case."
The next egg to hatch is distinguished by nothing except, perhaps, its large size. It has been rocking slowly for some time, but now faint cracks appear, spreading until the whole surface of the shell is a patchwork of still-joined fragments. Then a claw pushes through, followed, after a suitable pause, by a leg. After a while, a glistening muzzle appears. Another leg follows. The hatchling appears to stretch lazily, shrugging off the remains of the shell to reveal a bronze whose compact body and sturdy limbs show a reddish tinge. After the effort of hatching, he sinks blissfully to the warm sand for a well earned rest, legs and wings sprawled at ungainly angles.
Jedja, in reaction to this newest of dragons to hatch, turns an amused look to E'sere with a single brow raised in question. "That one comes from him." She accuses of the lazily resting bronze, "Clearly not of Benden stock." No matter that he's the second bronze to have hatched.
Zadzdyr snorts in amusement at the second bronze when it decides to lie down. "Clutch is looking good so far," he comments quietly to his neighbour, who's too terrified to offer much of an answer. Zad shifts, tapping the younger boy's arm gently and whispering some encouraging words to him that don't appear to have much effect.
Esseira stands intently beside Raliah, eyes unwavering from their study of the egg she and the other girls stand around. It doesn't move, but that doesn't seem to discourage Esseira's watch of it. Raliah's words stir her, causing her to look across the sands towards the larger group of eggs and the individual hatchings there. "Aye, I 'spect it is." Her gaze remains there for a few more moments before returning to the gold egg, and then back later towards the main clutch, spotting the leisurely bronze, smirking a bit, though she doesn't say anything before returning to her vigil of the gold egg.
"Morelenth will claim him," laughs E'sere, nodding as he glances to that bronze. "Though he might have to lay down some fatherly discipline if he doesn't get moving. Two bronzes already, though."
Aivey's attention and focus are still there on the gold egg, despite all the hubub about other dragons hatching and impressing. The heat's found a flush of red to her face and tiny beads of moisture cling to her neck and forehead but for the steady rise and fall of her shoulders in deep, patterned breaths, she remains quite still.
One of the smallest eggs on the sands rocks lazily back and forth a few times, then slowly cracks up the middle. It remains still for a few moments, nothing happening no dragonet appearing until finally a questing beak pokes upward, brilliantly green against the cream of the egg's shell. Content to stay there just looking around, another few moments pass before the mossy-hued green shrugs off the remains of her shell and waddles off across the Sands, idly checking out the nearest Candidates.
Raliah is not, unlike her dear friend, completely focused on that Egg -- really, all it's doing is rocking, right? The girl can't help but glance around curiously. "Different view, from here." She notes, shifting from foot to foot and frowning thoughtfully. She frowns at the big egg in the center. "'course she'd have to be nicely late..." There's a soft grumble, as her attention drifts again, to bronze and green. "They're really not all that cute."
A green splits her shell in two then sits creeling loudly amongst its remains. When she finally starts moving, she turns her back on the white-robed boys and moves in quite the wrong direction. Approaching the circle of gold-focused girls from behind, she pushes her way between two of the female candidates, leaving both with long scratches on their legs and blood on their white robes. It's the line of girls that she parades, and her inspection only stops when she halts at the feet of a dark-haired lass from the kitchen and turns rapturous rainbow-hued eyes towards her.
"I'm sure he'd take all the credit he could were it not for him needing Feliath to have those eggs in the first place." Jedja replies with a quiet laugh. The delight at the clutch outcome thus far leaves her still smiling, and though the green gets a worried little look, Jedja's not yet willing to throw away good vibes.
Kesida isn't looking too nervous; more a little impatient, her eyes alternating between the gold egg she stands near and the sand at her feet. When the green makes its sudden approach she whirls around, clapping a hand to her mouth when two of her group are bloodied.
L'dor escorts the first bronze and his rider to the edge of the Sands, then skirts the candidates and eggs to wait for the next Impression. He's curiously watching the greens when one claws the two girls, and muttering something, makes his way in that direction. There's a hurried movement in the gallery above as the Healer leaves his seat and hastens down towards the entrance to the Sands - just in case.
Raliah swallows /hard/ at the sight of the little Green breaking through the ranks of girls around the biggest Egg, shivering a little. "Shells and shards..." She breathes, eyes wide. Nothing more though, to her credit. She just twitches a little, turning her attention resolutely back to the egg in front of them.
Aivey's attention is fixed on that gold egg still, but she's not quite oblivious to the cries which come as legs are slashed and blood starts flowing. Her shoulders give a little twitch but she doesn't give in, and doesn't break her focus and most certainly doesn't look away. Old trick, that one.
"Don't make light of his contribution, weyrwoman," E'sere remarks dryly, one corner of his mouth curving upward as he glances sideways at Jedja. "I don't think it's anything to--and there's first blood." He breaks off as he notices the woundings, a frown taking precedence while he ascertains no one is too badly injured. Of the green's impression. "And Morelenth's children are choosing... unusually here, too," he observes, word choice delicate.
Idly wandering here and there, the Plump Mosstree Green Hatchling just isn't finding what she's looking for, yet she doesn't seem in a hurry to get around the entire Sands either. After a moment she sits down for a breather, looking up distractedly at the ceiling. Finally she hefts herself up again and waddles onward and around the whole ring of boys, unsatisfied.
Zadzdyr's lips curve upwards as he watches the wandering green. When she passes him, he stays perfectly still, waiting to see what move she'll make next. When she moves on, he looks briefly disappointed, but in some way relieved. His attention goes to the girls when he hears, above all the noise, pained cries. He winces. Just winces.
Walking is such an effort. The reddish-bronze hatchling bestirs his bulky limbs just enough to lumber the rest of the way across the Sands, but even at his unhurried pace, he's visibly slowing as he finally reaches the candidates. Some are dismissed without so much as a glance; others evoke a rumble of disapproval. He's passed several little groups before his eyes turn from angry red to a bright, joyful blue and he stops walking. His legs seem to slide from beneath him as he flops with a contented sigh in front of Zadzdyr and rests the tip of his jaw on his chosen one's feet.
Jedja's sudden frown is a fine shove-off to those good vibes. "Another lovely choice of words," Jedja compliments E'sere in a slightly unsettled tone. Feliath studies that odd little daughter of hers, the pitch of her humming increasing as the green circles the boys... as though that would be enough to convince the green her rider were somewhere in the ranks of the males. Jedja looks to another source - the Stands where the healer has presented himself, though once there it's S'dric who she looks to, and then away from moments later. "She's not chosen yet," Jedja finally allows with a hopeful smile.
The gold egg starts to move, not so much rocking as tossing to and fro like the head of a tree caught in a gale. After a few moments of this action, the egg quiets once more, though there's gasps of excitement amongst the girls, some of them clinging closer to each other. Of the two injured by the rampaging green, one simply presses her hand into the wound with grim determination while the other weeping and stumbling makes her way off the Sands to find the Healer. As she passes by a blue lifts his head, eyeing her with interest, but a boy steps in between, seeming keen on the dragonet and the impression is made there instead, the lad's chin lifting proudly.
Adria was here and attentive the whole time, really.
Esseira smirks down at Raliah for a brief moment before looking back towards the egg. Her gaze is intent upon the gold egg, though she murmurs to the girl, laughing softly, "Mm, definitely different from the galleries. Certainly not bad, though." There's another soft laugh from the assistant headwoman, though her gaze never deviates. "Not quite sure they're supposed to be cute, really. I'm sure you'll survive the lack of definite cuteness, though." As the green slashes the two girls nearby, Esseira grabs hold of Raliah's hand and tenses, ready to help pull her out of the way if needed. "Be careful!" She warns, even as the green moves past to her new bonded. "R'bori would /kill/ me if you got hurt. You know he would." As she turns to look at the gold egg, her eyes spot Zadzdyr as the bronze stops before him, and there's a flicker of a smile before her attention is fully back upon the gold egg. And not a moment too soon! The assistant headwoman's body tenses at the sight, and her eyes, if possible, become all the more intent, watching and waiting.
As with the green, Zadzdyr freezes when the bronze lumbers towards the boys - and towards him. But when the hatchling flops down at /his/ feet, rests its jaw on /his/ feet - well, that's his cue to relax. "Hey, Kayvoth." The name comes out with ease, Zad's face broadening into a grin. "Sorry, I thought I was close. Uhh. Shorter?" So much to consider in one moment. "Hungry, right. Hungry." Z'dyr looks urgently about now, trying to blink away embarrassing tears.
Aivey's forehead definitely has more sweat on it now than before, and that there's less control behind her once regular breathing. Still, it's not a hard thing to do: stand still, stare and wait for the right moment. Aivey continues on about her way, the only change coming in a look of expectation to impatience once the queen egg stops rocking.
Kesida lifts her hands and applauds gently as each Impression is made, a smile touching her lips briefly. She glances towards the exit, hands fidgeting. She looks a little impatient, not to mention a touch worried when it seems the girls are attracting attention from other hatchlings. "So much work to do for the feast," she mutters to herself, eyes flicking to the exit again. She quietens when the gold egg shakes, though stays at her present distance from it.
Creeping quietly onward, the Plump Mosstree Hatchling sneaks up behind one of the most withdrawn and unassuming Candidates hanging around the gold egg and winds around her feet, wings spread protectively around the girl as if to shield her from the penetrating gaze of any onlookers.
Raliah scowls faintly up at Esse, looking bullheaded for a long moment. "Now, you--" But then she ducks her head, scowling and muttering as she catches sight of the scowling face in the galleries that is R'bori. "Bah." Mutter. Her eyes follow her older friends -- right to Z'dyr, who is favored with a little smile. "Well, good." She's content to murmur, before -- "Oh!" She can't seem to stop the little gasp at the Gold Egg's rocking, and completely misses the impression of the little mossy green.
With no prior warning, a shake, a shudder and a shattering are all that it takes for a smaller egg in the centre of the Sands to disintegrate. Shards fly outwards, scattered by the frantic bid for freedom of the hatchling within. As they settle, she's left uncurling herself, stretching her long back and straightening a long, dark tail to reveal a Rugged Forest Green Hatchling. She sways a little as she stretches her wings, but regains her balance and sets off on wobbly legs towards the waiting candidates.
To this point, Adria's rather tense attention has been only on dragons and candidates-turned-weyrlings. Thus, when the bronze makes up his mind and makes Zadzdyr Z'dyr - good thing that! - she moves into action, making her way over to the new bronzerider. With a flash of a smile, she notes, "Kayvoth - sounds like a good name. I'd imagine he's hungry, and you'd both best get out of the way. Follow me?"
Kesida blinks down at the little green dragon, and then turns her head to look behind. "W-what?" she stammers, her eyes wide and looking to be on the verge of panic. "M-m-m-m-me? N-no no, you've made a mistake. Here, that one over there," she whispers, trying to nudge the dragon away from her, "Go, he's a much better match for you." Then her eyes catch those spinning facets again and she seems to shrink, stooping and wrapping her arms around the dragonet. "Oh, Anesath...why me? Why? What are we going to do?"
Jedja turns from leaning on Feliath for support to leaning against E'sere, her hand clutched tightly around his forearm as she says, "Oh no. Not... no." Feliath can only show maternal pride - detatched, to be sure, but pride all the same. "That's not good." Whispered just as the first statement had been, Jedja spares the green a look that's a little lost and helpless.
On the move again, the gold egg is swaying in earnest, tightening the circle of girls around it as keen interest draws them nearer. Pop, pop, pop, it's going fast now, egg after egg releasing its occupant, a spate of blues and greens scooping up boys swiftly to swell the ranks of new riders burgeoning at the edge of the Sands.
L'dor heads for Kesida and Anesath. On the way, he passes Adria and comments, with a brief sideways inclination of the head. "Couple of girls already, then." Then he reaches the new greenrider. "Let's get you and her out of the way of everything, shall we? Just over to the side here. Congratulations!"
Z'dyr is somewhere in the middle of 'stunned' and 'delighted', eyes fixed on the bronze making a pillow of his feet. Adria's approach shakes him out of his reverie, and the rider gets a grateful, bright smile. "Yes!" Answers all three statements, and with that the man stoops, helping Kayvoth up so that the pair can be led away.
Raliah keeps her attention firmly away from the wary eyes of her father up there, standing with a few wingmates. "I wish he'd stop watching me." She mutters anxiously, even though that really makes absolutely no sense, considering he's her father. She turns her attention to the -- popping? -- Gold Egg with a scowl, grumbling under her breath. Nerves? Probably.
Esseira is intent as ever on the gold egg as it continues to move, taking a few steps closer to the egg--perhaps even dangerously so. There's enough room there to be able to move if direly needed, but considering the density of girls around her, there's not too high a chance of moving quickly. No matter--she's there anyways, quietly regarding the egg. To Raliah, a soft murmur, "He could be looking at anything else, too. Just think he's looking at Zad's bronze or something and ignore him. Probably not safe to be paying attention to the galleries anyways."
Adria favours L'dor with one of her lovelier smiles at the comment on the way by. "I am more a mere number daily," she calls in return, though she's distracted by Z'dyr and his bright smile, grinning back. Ushering the young man and dragon to the side, she's quick enough to turn, watch and wait - her tense edge now eased a little by sheer amusement.
The largest of the eggs, the one Feliath has hovered over so closely for so long, gives a final violent shake and falls over on its side is if knocked over by a sudden gust of wind. All is still for a moment, then a pair of feet come crashing through the shell, and the egg seems to shrug, the rest of it lifting upward and outward and falling into many little pieces onto the sands leaving behind a rangy golden hatchling, rich with the amber shades of dying autumnal grasses.
Aivey moves forward as that queen egg at last hatches in earnest. Two, maybe two and a half steps in that clear determination on her face turns to something else - horror, possibly, or fear... or maybe just nausea. Either way, the bold move ends in a 'on second thought' reaction to flee. Sliding back to the midst of all those other girls around the egg, Aivey wiggles her way to somewhere in the middle where she falls into another girls shadow.
That other girl gives Aivey an angry look and a slight shove, like, get out of my shadow, you, stepping in front of the laundry assistant.
Kesida is trembling a little as she looks up at L'dor, nodding, reluctant to remove her arms from around /her/ dragon. But she does, when the offer of food is too good to resist, Anesath's need too great to ignore. "Yes," the girl states simply, standing and moving in the direction she's directed, Anesath right by her side.
The gold's hatching distracted E'sere from the soothing words he starts to offer Jedja as another green chooses a girl for her rider. The bronzerider's eyes settle on the gold, then on the first girl to move: Aivey. He opens his mouth, and just as quickly shuts it again when she retreats; and though he shoots a couple of glances his weyrmate's way, he manages to refocus on the gold, faintly impatient.
A tight group of eggs shatter all at once, sending some dangerous shards spinning towards a little bunch of Candidates standing too close. A soft hiss of pain precedes the blossoming of more blood on the Sands, this from the shallow scratch along a boy's arm though, just before a brown, a bronze and a green claim him and his companions for their own. Up in the stands a whoop of delight sounds audibly in the thin crowd and a couple embrace each other, tears of joy running down the mother's face as her boy Impresses.
Hoisting herself to her feet, the Autumn Foothills Gold Hatchilng impatiently shakes some clinging bits of shell off her feet and back and unfurls her wings, spreading them to their full width. Additional shell bits fall to the sand then those wings snap back to her sides and she takes off in an ungainly trot to inspect the girls circled around her.
Raliah gapes. It's her time to grab at her friend's hand. "Esse!" She hisses, shivering compulsively. "/I/ will skin you alive if you survive being mauled!" She squeaks, keeping her voice as low as possible. "Please --" The girl keeps her eyes on the young Gold, but tries to keep hold of the young woman's hand.
Aivey looks up at that other girl whose shadow is stepped upon and mumbles the quietest of apologies before finding a way to back even farther up. That dark little head of hers moves steadily into the fringes of the group, not quite at it's back but near enough there considering she'd started at the foremost of the group.
The Rugged Forest Green reaches a group of boys, and stops. She peers at them attentively with blood-red eyes, tilts her head as if listening to each in turn - but lets out a plaintive creel as she starts to move on. Not those. Not the red-haired boy standing on his own, either, or the dark-complexioned young man with a tall proud stance. They just won't do. She keeps moving.
Esseira's eyes brighten as the egg, at long last, falls away to reveal the gleaming gold. Her movement forward is confident, smooth, and lacks any indecision--she's been waiting all too long for this moment. Another step and a deep breath brings her before the gold hatchling, her hand slipping out of Raliah's--or dragging the girl along, if she doesn't relinquish it. Intensity clearly wracks every limb of her body, from the pursed lips to the tensed hand--even to the legs that, despite her confidence, are ready to get the heck out of the way if needed. But for the moment, she stands tall.
Gusting awkwardly here and there in short rushes, the Autumn Foothills Gold, makes short work of inspecting each of the girls clustered in a loose circle around the spot where her egg once lay. A tall girl with dark hair attracts her almost at once and she charges over, practically knocking Esseira to her feet and hovering over her, wings spread wide.
"I swear if that one picks a boy-" Jedja is already scorning the 'impossible' notion, but that doesn't loosen the tight grip she has on his arm. Sight of the gold hatching draws her attention there, and the events which follow earn E'sere a sympathetic look though Jedja with holds commentary for the time being. Feliath, upon arrival of her daughter and all those other little children, continues to regard them all with a delighted bearing. Morelenth is, naturally, given no such mind (or any mind, for that matter).
Esseira falls back, startled, barely hitting the sand before she's begun to put her hands to the ground and start pushing herself away and out of the way of a particularly paiful mauling. She stops as soon as her hands have hit the sand, blinking in surprise for a moment before she slowly pushes herself up to a sitting position, looking with bemusement at the young gold. Her gold. "Ailuth. I /am/ yours." She says, finally breaking into a smile, triumphant. She pushes herself up into a sitting position, now, her full attention still upon Ailuth as she carefully reaches out a hand to the hatchling's head, as though testing to see whether she's really there.
Raliah /has/ to let go of her friends' hand, there's no stopping her and she's not as dim as she might well look, little Raliah. But there's a moment of total panic at the Gold's movements, and she stands rooted, eyes wide, horror written all over her face. She can't even find the presence of mind to scream or curse. But then -- the girl's features twitch towards astonished, quickly followed by triumphant when there's no blood or missing limbs. She says nothing, though, just stands with an expression bordering on haughty. Of course Esseira wasn't going to get mauled, and she'd never even considered the possibility. Right.
With the gold hatched and Impressed, the girls have started to move off the Sands as instructed, lest any more untoward Impressions occur. Some seem dejected, some relieved, others maintain a studied neutrality, and one or two look longingly at the greens still on the Sands as they move towards the exit. The male candidates edge closer to the remaining eggs.
E'sere relaxes slightly, at least, when the gold chooses, smile returning slowly though his eyes cut to the girls being escorted from the sands one last time. "Our assistant headwoman," he remarks, with a nod toward the new pair for Jedja's benefit. "A well-qualified match, I think."
Aivey is among those making her way to the exit and doesn't look as though she'll be second guessing that particular decision or stepping on that *other* girl's shadow... again. Head ducked and arms wrapped about her middle, she makes good enough time and is soon off and into the cool, fresh air.
The Rugged Forest Green Hatchling is still searching. She stares at one boy for a long moment, and he takes a step towards her before she gives a creel of despair and moves on. Another lad is passed with a sideswipe from razor-sharp talons that, fortunately, fail to damage more than his robe - though he may be a little embarrassed at having the front of his garment ripped from waist to hem. The green's protests become louder as she plods onward. Finally, she stops, muzzle pointing skywards as if listening to some silent call. She turns, and now her path is straight and her direction clear, though her target is right across the Sands. Warbling with joy, she walks steadily towards the one she's chosen - and stops at the feet of a candidate with thick dark hair. A distinctly female candidate.
Adria watches the whole little drama around the gold egg dispassionately, but for some little pity - weird reaction, but she's an odd woman. Her gaze flicking between Aivey and the gold and Esseira until she chooses. Moving up to the former headwoman, she offers, "Congratulations, weyrwoman. Let's get you and Ailuth off to the side?" Glancing around as she ushers the pair away, she can't help but add to Raliah and the other girls, "There's a few eggs left yet."
"Ou-" Jedja, bemused enough to be stirred from her study of the newly impressed pair, looks toward E'sere but does not have time to finish for all that there's /another/ female to green impression, and Feliath's soft note alerts her to as much. Turning to glance at the pair, Jedja frowns briefly before doing her best to muster a pleased smile. It's not very convincing, unfortunately.
Only a few eggs are left, now. Two hatch out blues who choose boys standing nearby, and then two more greens wander the Sands for a little longer before making their choice. The remaining boys focus on the very last egg, which opens up to reveal a chunky brown. Within seconds, he chooses his direct opposite in shape, a tall lanky lad from Ista. And then it's over.
L'dor has collected a little flock of dragonets - can dragonets flock? - and blinking, moist-eyed or jubilant young riders. He shepherds them out of the way of the departing girls.
Raliah starts to file out with the other girls, looking just as pleased as can be -- and, oh yes, relieved! Though there's a vaguely put-out brownrider up in the galleries, Raliah seems to harbor no ill-feelings over the impression, she even looks cheerful. That is, until she's stopped by the roving green dragonet who'd been having little luck amongst the boys. She halts midstep, eyes unseeing for one endless moment. Then she turns to stare down at the little dragonet, adoration masking surprise totally. "Oh, Faranth," She gasps, glancing around furtively and laying a cautious hand on Beryth's head. "B-" The girl swallows, then lifts her chin. "Of course, Beryth. Right away!" A caress for the dragonet's head, and she's staring around again, starting hesitantly after the rest of the departing riders, looking quite uncertain.
"And... one last one," E'sere murmurs to Jedja, eyeing that green with a faintly tightened smile. Then, aloud: "Well. That's that, then. It was an amazing clutch, wasn't it--just like I said." He strengthens his smile and straightens, glancing from Jedja to the weyrlings disappearing from the sands. "And now, we feast."
L'dor goes to retrieve Raliah, grinning. "Well. Looks as if you won't be scraping those klah trees after all. Congratulations. Bring her over here with the others, and the Weyrlingmaster will take care of you."
Z'dyr is herded with the rest of the new weyrlings, Kayvoth right by his side. The hatchling is taking his time, movements slower than when he was first hatched now that his belly is full, but this gives Zad time to look at the female weyrlings. When he spots Esseira and her gold, he can't help but grin - and Kesida and Raliah both get approving looks, too, for some reason.
Esseira gets up, albeit somewhat shakily, and when Adria approaches, she's standing, though still smiling at Ailuth. She glances at the Weyrlingmaster briefly, nodding. "Thanks. Mmm, yeah. Probably a good idea." She walks just beside Ailuth as they head to the side, intent on the hatchling so much that Raliah's exclamation only barely catches her attention--only enough to beam across the sands at the girl before her attention returns to Ailuth. Well, and as she looks up to see where they're going, at which point she grins to Kesida and Z'dyr--but that doesn't really count. Nope.
Raliah stares blankly at L'dor for a moment, though none of the other adult riders get any notice. After a long moment, though, she offers a bright grin. "Oh -- L'dor, sir!" Right, quick on the uptake. "Doesn't...look like it." A wondering glance is tossed down at Beryth. "Isn't she lovely?" The question just about every Weyrling ever impressed voices is murmured, with a brief, wary glance about. "Father's not going to like /this/ -- yes, Beryth. We're going!" And she follows, tossing not-so-covert glances around.
Kesida is quietly stunned, a hand on Anesath's side and blinking rapidly. She's ready to go anywhere, as long as it's not too far as she seems about to fall on her face.
With the Sands emptied of eggs, Jedja leans quickly into E'sere to whisper something to the bronzerider. A glance back toward the Sands brings another smile, one that's at least more earnest than the last. A few small steps taken forward have her halting and turning to face those few who remain unimpressed. Motioning them closer together, she says, "Thank you all for doing us the honor of Standing. Know that you might not have found your lifemate on the Sands today, but there is always tomorrow and that every road gets rough before reaching it's final destination." Of course there's a quirky smile to the quirky end of her statement before she rejoins E'sere. Without missing a beat, she replies, "Time to eat, yes. I'm famished. You'll join me, I hope?"
Adria pauses in her collection of Esseira and Ailuth as she hears Raliah exclaim - and sees L'dor take care of it. Her smile for the girl is brief, but brilliant - and she turns around to start organizing things. "All right," she calls out, her voice clearly carrying across the group of weyrlings, "We've not got all that far - just across the bowl. If you'll follow me, there's lots of meat and oil for the dragonets." And with that, she moves to the head of the group briskly and starts ushering the lot of them off the sands.
"Of course, weyrwoman," E'sere answers at once, with a tip of his head to Jedja as he agrees. "And--perhaps we can share that," he adds lower-voiced, as he offers her his arm and waits while the sands are cleared before moving to leave himself.
Kesida looks down at the little green by her side, "Are you sure?" she whispers. Anesath croons softly, a gentle head butt for her rider to encourage forward motion. Shakily Kesida begins to follow Adria.
"You are fast becoming---" The remainder of Jedja's words are lost in the din that rises as she walks with E'sere toward the exit. Having happily taken the offered arm, she keeps in step with whatever pace he sets while Feliath - after a tender nosing of those last bits of egg shards - wastes no time in launching free of her sandy confines. It's at about the same moment when Jedja reaches mid-way across the sands that she seeks to stop E'sere to ask another question, her head tilting toward the private entrances of the queens weyrs.
Adria heads off the sands.
Raliah offers Adria a smile to match hers, with a glance down at Beryth. The girl looks vaguely bemused, nodding. "Well --" wince. "I know, love...I know. We're going as quickly as we can!" The girl cradles her stomach with one hand and winces, with the other placed firmly on the dragonet's still-damp head. She falls in beside Esseira, offering a happy smile.
E'sere's grin broadens at Jedja's words, however they might fade into the din as he pauses, tilts his head at her, and then nods once: his agreement as they change directions now.
With the weyrlings safely out of the way, L'dor gives a nod in the direction of Jedja and E'sere, and starts to make his way towards the exit.