[Log] Illegitimate Impressions, Pt. 2

[brazenbronzer]

Who: Amarie, Breena, Cashie (NPC), Claret, Crispin, Eilidh, F'min, Gustive, Kassima, Lanisa, Lyliasha, M'tri, Nikadis, Perouze, Riadur, Stavren, T'bay, Tegara, V'lano
When: Unknown
Where: Lakeshore, Telgar Weyr
What: Riadur accidentally impresses a blue firelizard when Kassima's gold's eggs hatch.
Notes: Find Pt. 1 here and Pt. 3 here.

Perouze might get an answer, or might not, because she's utterly distracted by the fact that where there was an egg, there is now a green firelizard. "So tiny," she murmurs. "Why is it that I can't resist babies?" she adds to herself, but then focuses on the clutch, holding out the meatroll filling hopefully, peering at the green and the remaining eggs through a veil o'hair that, of course, isn't going anywhere.

T'bay is mid-scoot sidelong around the group, getting a peek at those who've assembled as if his intent glance could identify a potential or current member of the baker craft by scent alone. A slow sigh escapes from his lips, then he realizes V'lano's at his side, and his face goes first a slight bit pinched, then forcibly relaxes, a smile coaxed forth, easing especially as he observes the head-bent Claret's still-raised back end. "Brawl? I've been good! I don't intend any brawls. Look, it's Claret, if I'm still up in my talents of recognizing people by their backsides. Tell, if these are all new ones brought up for the occasion? So many faces." Still, at Kassi's urging, he takes a bit of meat from the passing tray, a-grin and nod taking in the others present. "Ought to do's I'm told, at least. Did one open up? They are small, at that."

Lying In Wait Egg shakes much harder now, as if the rattling of its sibling's shell has made it nervous. A streak, greenish and slick, appears in its apex - a crack, caused by the boisterous wiggling of the lurker within.

Gustive gasps as the first egg splits. Smiling encouragingly at Crispin "Have your food ready, I hope you get big bronze."

Crispin oohs and squeaks, tugging on Gustive's sleeve non stop it seems. He's jostled a bit by the crowd but this young lad is not to be knocked down as he hesitantly offers the bit of meatroll towards the little green. "She's deceptive," he says thoughtfully, using one of his 'big words'. He beams up at Gustive, "Do you think I will?" he asks, with all little boy's hopes dancing in his eyes.

V'lano retreats to T'bay's side indeed - a safe place from which to wave Kassi's remarks off, smilingly at least. "They are. And you have enough tiny cuteness for both of us." After that he grins at his old holdmate, seeming still on his way past - the brownrider moving toward the nest, maybe, the bronzer away from it. "Not all of them, I think. Go, get meat and have yourself a troublemaker. Give -me- something, however minor, to have back at you for?" It's almost a plead, and then he's seeking out a rock to hop up onto, to give him the few inches that ensure a view of most of the goings-on from, he hopes, safe distance. From that perspective, a blonde head rivets his gaze a moment, after which he turns a significant look of his own toward Volath on the other side of the shore. Helpful thing - the beast seems to have dozed off, his rider's cap still hung from his neckridge.

Amarie accepts the meat, "Thank you M'tri." But she doesn't venture closer to the circle of people just at the moment. She lingers back towards Daikoth. Her expression is unreadable, scrutiny given to some of her friends at Telgar, Kassima, V'lano, T'bay, Claret, Lanis and M'tri. But she also watches some of those in the crowd that she sees has new candidate knots on their shoulders.

"Aye. After is fine, Kassi." Lanisa agrees to the suggestion and warning all rolled into one? She glances quick to M'tri then, not abashed at all, but when is she ever? She does bite her lip a little, his pout not powerless, "I was going to tell you later. You know, not in front of half the Weyr and all." And then she shakes her head, "Raw turns my stomach about now. Meatroll is fine if one comes our way." - "You pick where, Trii." Positively mild for her, taking it all in so lightly. Even Amarie's lack of reply to the greeting she gave is only met with a raised brow and a mild shrug of almost indifference.

Eilidh's hand reaches out towards the approaching greenrider, wide smile on her face. Her face leans over to try to brush her cheeks against Breena's. The other Icewind rider takes the time to scoot away while the blonde is distracted. "I think the eggs are hatching."

Cashie snatches a handful of raw meat, only grimacing once, and immediately starts crooning to the little green in a manner that could induce insulin shock. "Heeeeere, you cute sweet adorable darling thing..." Stavren rolls his eyes. "She really shouldn't try the sweetness and light routine. Even a hatchling fire-lizard can see through that." He watches the other younglings jostling each other for a chance at the fire-lizard and smiles. He does direct a curious glance towards T'bay and his comments.

Beginning to sort through the meat for choice pieces with a detachment from its gooey messiness that speaks of her healer training, Lyliasha glances to Nikadis only once as she forms her reply. It's a few more moments in coming than it strictly ought to be, and plenty well thought out. She's avoiding stumbling over something like a simple congrats again. "Posted to Bitra, sent here for a short while by a journeyman to learn a bit more about birthings than he wants to teach me." And as a side note, and in a lower tone, "He says a Weyr breeds more children than I'll see over there." The girl returns to her former volume to continue, "Before that at the Healer Hall, and even before at Fort." A brow quirks, though her gaze still rests on that meat, as though asking whether that was quite detailed enough?

"How many are there?" wonders Riadur as he watches the rocking eggs curiously. He glances sideways at Nikadis and Stavren, refusing the meat that blithely would-be impressees offer around. "Maybe they're won't be many, and we can escape unscathed." He still doesn't sound very confident, or happy about this.

Nikadis chuckles at Stavren and the girl by him. "Well, children will be children..." Lyliasha gets a raised eyebrow. "Birthing? You're... interested in that?" he questions hesitantly. "Or is it just standard training? I'm a former Runner, so I've been around. Do you enjoy traveling?" Riadur distracts him momentarily, and he querries, "How many what? Eggs?"

Claret unbends herself, her mouth quirking up into a cheerful smile, raising a few fingers in a wave as she informs T'bay, "Nah, you've haven't quite lost that talent yet. Which is quite good, as rears can be very important." Sifting through the crowd in the direction where T'bay and V'lano just were--and managing to step on only a few toes--she tilts her head in V'lano's direction, adding another wave for him before she turns an again wrinkled nose back to the eggs.

Silly Spoiled Streaked Green Hatchling gets no satisfaction from her mother, who has no time to do more than give this green daughter a nudge in the hindquarters to get her going. So she gets to her feet and sets to the important business of shaking off shards and goo. It must be very important to her, in fact: she takes care to preen off every last piece of debris before even turning her attentions outward, not about to let one more minute pass in the world without her looking her very best. Only once that's done does she sniff the air to test for the scent of food.

Crispin shakes his head a bit at the green and pulls his meat back a bit, suddenly becoming critical, "She doesn't look like she'd like to play in the mud with me." A very important thing for a six turn old boy to consider.

Gustive pats Spin on the shoulder with a grin. "*I* think you should, you're big and strong like a bronze. I guess it's just a matter of getting through the crowd at the right time, just make sure not to get trampled, your mother and Riordanth would skin me."

"I know," Breena says to Eilidh, with a weak smile. "There are a few Candidates here, think we should remind them to avoid the hatchlings, or trust they'll do it on their own?" While she speaks, her eyes scan the crowd, offering the occasional smile to a few people she recognizes. Brown-eyed gaze lingers the longest upon one of the bronzeriders in attendance, but she stays next to Eilidh for now, and tries to pick out the Candidates amongst the assembled.

Perouze shakes her head a little, slowly, finally getting the hair out of her eyes so she can see where the lizards are. "She looks like she'll spend all of her time making sure her wings are just so," the herder girl ventures, extending her meat towards the green and the rest of the clutch. "She reminds me of this runner filly we have over at the Hall, always prancing and preening." Shyness is beginning to fade away as she warms up, somewhat, to the gathering. Somewhat.

T'bay watches, through the group he's able to observe just barely the roundfaced youth wriggle the meat, cheering him on from a few paces back. "What? Give you something?" A half snort pulls up one side of T'bay's lip, though he wipes the ugly expression and immediately replaces it with his usual light one, sending a wink toward Stavren and the girl. "Woohoo! Claret complimented my rear-matching skills. I haven't lost the Lemos touch." A brief envious look to the knot of V'lano, though he masks it, taking steps toward the basket, copying the down-low crouch the greenrider'd done before. "Whatever that is. Say. Isn't she adorable, the 'lizard? She's more concerned about her appearance than Roberta."

Lying In Wait Egg waits no longer, shaking around in its deep sand-pit with such force that the sand is tamped denser, making the pit ever larger. As the egg batters itself against the walls of its widening cradle, cracks form at points of impact - a particularly severe slam causes a webspinner pattern to appear, leaking egg-goo from several of the deeper crevices. Perhaps it's a relief when the tumbling stops, and even more of one when a heartbeat later a curious head pokes through the most damaged part of the shell, sending muddied shards flying. After a bit to blink at the world outside, the hatchling picks himself foot by foot, wing by wing free, murmuring soft whines of hunger in his throat.

Predatory Instincts Brown Hatchling
     Fond of a crouched, shoulders-down and haunches-up posture, this ruddy brown's precipitous movements stem from the fierce and patient exactitude of a born hunter. He keeps his head low while on the prowl, eyeridges low over an intense gaze. Sturdy wingspars with broad, knobby joints support sails which, when raised against light, reveal a fine, soft texture to his sueded hide. Short, pointed headknobs are pushed a bit more flat to either side than a firelizard standard would require, but perhaps the spectacular marking of brilliant, almost fiery hue at the end of his sinuous tail would beg any judge for forgiveness.

Kassima drawls to Vel by way of suggestion, "Enjoy the cuteness while it can still remotely be considered tiny, then--" She gives the bronzerider a wry grin. Then, to T'bay, "One, so far." Not the world's most articulate woman at the moment. Lapsing into quiet, she seems content to just watch them hatch, at least for the moment.

Lyliasha finishes her meat sorting just as a small green hatchling finishes her preening, and begins to extent a small glomp. And then, with a second look, seems to think better of it. "Not quite sure I have time to take care of that one," is muttered entirely to herself. As the girl turns to reply to Nikadis's wary question, though, eyes land on entirely empty space. Whether she shifted or he, she's lost the lad in the crowd. Riadur's query still lingers in the air, though, so it's that she answers instead. "How many? Too many. You might want to be ready to dodge?"

"Ahp, there's the first," M'tri remarks as he gets a glimpse through the crowd of the actual hatchlings. And he scoots, carefully, through the crowds in favor of taking a seat beside Kassi's rock-perch and saying, "Well, now's your chance to change your mind. They could allllll be yours!" And when M'tri offers out his bag of jerky, he's obviously being facetious.

Stavren grins at poor hopeless Riadur. "I think if we just sit here and don't attract their attention, we'll be fine. They're looking for food, remember." While Cashie continues her litany of sweet nothings to the oblivious hatchlings, he continues to survey the crowd--new people are interesting. Amarie's caution catches his eye; he smiles a bit and gestures towards himself and Riadur. "You can settle over here with us, and jump in when you see one that suits you. Better than braving the crush."

Tegara has been examining the firelizards as they break free from their shells, and is taken with the little brown one that has just broken out. "Here, li'l fella," she coaxes, with her best get-the-caprines-in-the-pen voice. "I got a li'l somthin' fer ya."

Riadur nods to Nikadis. "Yes, eggs," he confirms to the younger boy. Then, glancing around again, he offers Crispin and Gustive a strained sort of smile. "That's a very important thing to consider," he tells the child knowledgably. "Perhaps one later on will suit you better. Like that one?" He gestures toward the brown before peering to Lyliasha. "Yes, we should be, I think. I don't want to get in trouble," announces the youth earnestly.

V'lano, too, is an expert at masking odd looks and offering light ones, giving T'bay a brilliant grin before ascending his rock perch, wherefrom his expression might be noted to worry a bit. Though Kassima's remark gets a light-hearted snort, he's still fixated on the blonde head enough that when its owner looks up, and her brown eyes linger there, he'll meet them across the crowd - then be the first to look away, to the brownrider at the weyrlingmaster's side. He does not scowl. It is a curious look, in fact - and his curiousity is not so rich as to stop him from being distracted when there are reactions to the latest hatchling. He looks back toward the eggs and those just escaped from them, shaking his head with rueful fondness.

Crispin ooohs as the brown hatches, "He looks a little like Voldrath," he says to Gustive, waiting to see what the brown's personality looks like before he tries, his meatroll concealed in his hand. For a young lad he can be very patient. After all, this could be his first firelizard, he wants to do it right. He returns Riadur's smile and nods, "Maybe."

Gustive oohs. "He looks like a fiesty one, Spin, what do you think of him?"

Tegara turns to Crispin. "You wan' him?" she asks the boy. "Then I'll back down on mi efforts ta immpress him."

Crispin shakes his head firmly at Tegara, "Don't not try 'cause of me. Mom says I have to earn everything I want. So don't not try 'cause of me. That's as bad as Pa letting me win at checkers." His nose wrinkles. He /knows/ his father does that.

Amarie watches the first few eggs hatch. She smiles at the tiny hatchlings, but her eyes don't meet that smile. With a sigh she moves up towards M'tri and hands back to the jerky saying, "Here, take this. I need to go find J'len and talk to him. You have fun here okay?" She doesn't wait for her friend to answer, turning to go find the other person she wants to speak to.

Tegara says "'Kay then," Tegara replies and goes back to trying to lure the little brown to her with her meatroll."

F'min chuckles to himself as he hears the claim of letting his son win checkers.

Perouze has most of her attention on the 'preening' green, she does glance over at the brown. "That one's nice too..." In fact, now she can't decide which one to give most of her attention to...and moves her meat where they can both see it, wriggling it a bit as she's seeing some of the others here do. Crispin gets a bit of a grin, then she goes back to watching the hatchlings, but not before a soft, "Mine did that too." Green. Brown. Green. Eeny...no. She keeps the wriggling meat where it is. "They're thinking their choice through, too. Then again, they're stuck with that person, so..." So she understands. The green is still getting slightly more of her attention, though.

Claret now attempts to stand on the tips of her toes to get a look at the hatchlings, but that failing, she gives her shoulders an exaggerate shrug and meanders towards the perimeter of the group, evidently not desirous of edging through the other folk. To T'bay, she rolls her eyes slightly, though her the corners of her mouth tilt up in a smile. "Well, sure. Although I guess it's easy to say when I haven't seen those skills compared. Ooh!" she breaks off as she spots Amarie, apparently just as she's leaving. "Hullo! I mean, goodbye," she corrects as the girl wanders off.

Lanisa works her way along behind M'tri, letting him find the path and she just follows along then settles in beside. "You want me to tell you now, I will. If not, then later." Tisiath just holds his head as high as he can manage and overlook the whole group, especially the hatchlings, which prompts a groan from his rider, "Tisi wants a blue one, Trii. I haven't even seen a blue yet, and he's all set on one." Amarie is given another long look, though Lani says nothing now, just keeps watching.

Gustive looks up hearing Spin's father's chuckle. He waves to him through the crowd, having not seen his arrival. "Hoi, F'min!"

Riadur observes the two hatchlings already moving about curiously for a moment before remarking, "I don't know how they choose, really. All the meat looks just alike. I'd be so indecisive." A shrug then as he shifts and takes a seat on the sand, nestling down; he seems to expect to be stuck here for a while. After several seconds, he decides, "This isn't so bad, really. I mean, they're not paying attention to us or anything. Unless we'll... You don't think we'll be in trouble simply for being here, do you?" He shoots a look at Stavren as this new worry occurs to him.

Amarie pauses before leaving to stop by Claret and T'bay. "Hey you two," She smiles at them both. "I have to go talk to J'len but I'll be around later this week to see everyone. Might you consider meeting me in the caverns for a drink?"

F'min looks surpised that he was heard above the hubbub, and quickly holds a finger to his lips, although it's probably too late now to keep Crispin from realizing he's being watched.

M'tri chuckles, saying, "I'm sure there's plenty of time for a blue, Lani. Here, though, take some and be ready, because it would be a pity if you weren't on guard and we had to hear about it later." That said, he offers out a piece of meat to her, and then fetches another for himself. "Daikoth wants one, too," he intones. Trii, however, doesn't seem all inclined to share it with the lizards, because he pops it in his mouth and waves a farewell to Amarie, looking just as bewildered as Lani does. After a moment, he leans in to say lowly, "No, I can wait. It's fine, if you're not comfortable saying so here." A shrug for that, and he's chewing under the disapproving gaze of his own blue.

Predatory Instincts Brown Hatchling lashes his tail experimentally, slapping himself in the wing, then stumbling sideways wide-eyed in shock at the sensation. A low croon, gravelly and irritated, is directed at the injured sails, which he holds out carefully to examine with whirling, hungry eyes. Assured he's not seeping ichor or, for that matter, less a wing, the little brown lurks to the side of the basket and peers over, tail lashing much with much more feline grace now, endangering the shell of a ruddy-violet egg behind him with its tip.

Gustive eyes widen at the shh sign and cursess his keen ears. Swiveling quickly he points at the eggs and exclaims loudly, "is that another one hatching?!"

Crispin is oblivious, really, and doesn't notice his father. He watches the brown, and smiles, and offers the meatroll forward quietly and without fuss. He knows the firelizards choose, and if his firelizard was shelled in this clutch it'll find him. At least that's how he thinks it works.

Lyliasha merely nods once or twice to Riadur, another onset of just a touch of shyness seeming to quiet her tongue. And then something else gives her even less reason to answer; a two men, one in a healer knot, stride past the crowd, giving it no more than a glance. In that glance, however, is the chance that she'll be caught, so the apprentice sidesteps through the crowd to duck on the other side of the pair of candidates near whom she's been standing. "Oh, don't let them see me." It's less an appeal to those nearby than to the powers that be.

Silly Spoiled Streaked Green Hatchling was already at the edge of the basket, so it doesn't take too much effort for her to hop up to a wobbly perch on its rim. There! Those things above her! They have the delicious-smelling stuff. But which *kind* does she want, that's the question... her creel to them is very sweet, very plaintive: you won't make her come to you, will you? You'll bring the meat to her and treat her like the princess she is, right?

Stavren really does consider that for a minute. He's only now getting used to his Candidate knot, he doesn't want to lose it. "Nah, I don't think so. I mean, Kassi's right there--she Searched you, she'd be shooing you off if you weren't supposed to be here. And there's Breena, the Weyrlingmaster. If we might be her weyrlings in a couple of months, she'd be warning us off too. I think we're good." He overhears Lyliasha's whisper, and shifts position somewhat so his excessive tallness half-blocks her. He's dodged authority once or twice.

T'bay catches Kassi's comment, mistaking which question she's answering, waggling the meat part loosely in her direction with a randomly outstretched hand. He starts to reply to Vel, though he's far closer to the ground, and therefore can't follow the pointed direction of V'lano's gaze, or movement, very well. "One? Lemos skills are only up to one? Oh-ho, didn't think I'd be like to hear that." He chortles a little with a bubbled laughter, turning his head to look in the space cleared out by Claret's passing along, just in time to spy Amarie's start toward an exit, uncertain. "Was that...?" Her words draw a smile and narrowed, fascinated eyes. "Drink? I'd love to. Hey, Amarie--look at her," he gestures toward the green preening one, meat outstretched, all cheer in his tone. "Hold onto your head? Maybe she'd be yours."

Now she's got her hair out of her eyes, Pero realizes a couple of things...first among them the fact that the brown is attracting more attention. And, thus...she turns back to the green. Who's so hesitant on the edge of the basket. With a slight smile, she maneuvers her meatroll a little bit closer. She's not ignoring the brown...just...slowly moving that bit towards the green, with the quiet patience of one who understands animals. "They're both so pretty."

Cashie really pours on the love now. "I've got food! Come here, darling, and I'll feed you till you're all round and cute!"

Ruined World Egg suddenly rolls sideways, as if to flee the fiery tip of that hunter brown's tail. The roll reveals its off-color bottom, but no other apparent flaws, and after the daring escape the egg again lies still.

Less than subtly, Riadur eyes Lyliasha, then turns to study the healers approaching. "Are those your masters?" he wonders after a moment, giving the girl hiding behind him and Stavren an odd look. "Are you not supposed to be here, either? Come sit by us; maybe they won't notice?" The last is said reluctantly; he doesn't seem enthusiastic about hiding the girl.

Electrified Emerald Energy Egg begins to rock, a bit more slowly than some of its clutchmates... as if the baby inside is debating whether it's really ready to come out, or would just as well stay in where it's safe.

Lanisa does take the offered meat, but looks rather dubious for someone that's always claimed to want a firelizard before, "Yes, well. If one heads this way and all." She doesn't make her way for the lizards already there either. Waiting instead as she adds, "I'll tell you later then. I don't mind now, just later is better." Amarie's given one last glance and Lani waves after her also, regardless, and then just gives Trii a questioning look before resuming her watch over the proceedings.

Silly Spoiled Streaked Green Hatchling sees a meatroll coming towards her, and fairly lunges for it. Finally! Someone who knows how to treat a lady. Her creel changes tune as her eyes change shade, from pure red to red specked with violet--she's still making demands, even now, but her demand to Perouze for more is at least now mingled with love.

"Oh, she's a witch," M'tri decides of the green, and makes sure, quickly, that his meat is out of reach to the newly hatched. "Mine," he warns both hatchlings and the unhatched eggs, tearing some of it off pointedly. As though maybe they're listening. And care what he has to say. As highly unlikely as that is. Either way, he does it, still glancing sidelong at Lani. "It'll wait," he decides. "And they'll come, they can't resist. Maybe they'll come to other people...but, we won't be specific."

Silly Spoiled Streaked Green Hatchling stumbles towards Perouze.

Claret gives Amarie a bright nod, telling her, "Oh, I'd love to. I don't think I've seen you in ages!" before making a quick duck of her own, putting her right in the way of Lyliasha, and close enough to hear the talk of sneaking. "Hiding?" she inquires disjointedly, teetering as she tries to avoid an all-out collision with the healer. "Who's hiding from what? Hatchlings aren't all that scary, I don't think. Though I suppose it's a matter of opinion."

"Good then it's settled. Maybe we can all meet at the Rusted Hulk sometime." Amarie waves at Lani, having seen that, but her attention fixates back on T'bay and Claret. "Good luck to both of you on getting a lizard." She doesn't want to keep them from the hatchlings any further so she walks away, heading towards the caverns.

Electrified Emerald Energy Egg gives a final, rather violent trembling, its silver markings flashing wildly; all at once a dark crack mars its erstwhile perfection, and a quarter of the shell breaks free to allow a glimpse of the golden hide beneath. Although the hatchling takes a moment to rest and regain her strength, the lure of that bright-lit world outside and all its wondrous scents is too much for her: she scrambles out through the hole she's made, claws scrabbling for purchase.

Elegant Erudite Exceptional Gold Hatchling
     Her physical appearance is what one may notice first: that fine, elegant proportion, with wings of just the correct size, a tail exactly long enough for grace, and a gently curving neck worthy of supporting her perfectly-shaped head. Her hide is brightly, gleamingly gold, with only a faint touch of red to keep it from purity. She is beautiful. Yet it may not be her beauty that whichever human she chooses comes to treasure, so much as her even temper--displayed even so early as this, by the way she steps away from her shards with none of the hissing or creeling her clutchmates indulge in--and her quiet intelligence, shown in the careful scrutiny she gives everything around her. This is a lady who might be one's ideal companion, if only that one is able to recognize her true virtue.

Tegara waves her meatroll close to the nose of the feisty brown. "Come 'ere li'l fella -- I'll feed ya' good."

Then, upon seeing the elegant gold, she changes her tack. "Come 'ere, sweetheart," she says gently. "I'll take good care o' ya."

Predatory Instincts Brown Hatchling leaps down off the edge of the basket and prowls into the crowd. No waiting and princessing for him; he's on the hunt. Forelegs low, rear-haunches high, he keeps his wings tucked and turns his head one way, then the other to examine the bits of food here and there overhead. He'd be subtle in his tiny, brown way, except that his fire-glow tail's still whipping around, as excited as the rest of him seems patient.

Lyliasha has a hesitant smile for Stavren when he provides safe cover, and a yet smaller one for Riadur. "It's not that they're looking for me. He's the one that wandered off, after all. But if he does see me, he might remember that I was following him before." Evasions over justifications over rationalizations, but she seems to be quite convinced by them. At Riadur's suggestion, she does sit, and goes the extra step towards blending in with the crowd, finally beginning to wave that meat towards the eggs. It's left idly waving when she's bumped by Claret, and has to wonder upwards toward the greenrider, "Hatchlings, scary, what? And watch out!" That for the meat which is now waving dangerously close to Claret. Spatterings are a definite possibility, here.

Crispin oohs, "Look, a gold! She's beautiful." He shifts his weight slightly, indecisive, and then splits the meatroll in two, offering one bit to the gold and the other bit towards the stalking brown. "I think the brown is going to get who he wants weather they like it or not. And she looks really...calm. And smart. Think she could help me with my harper lessons?" he asks Gustive with a grin.

Cashie is only disappointed at the green's defection for a moment. Then--"oh shards, a /GOLD/!" That last is pure pre-adolescent squeal. She promptly begins waving her meat in the direction of the shining hatchling, doing everything but flinging it at her.

Perouze blinks once, twice, three times. Even the hatching of the gold goes unnoticed, as the green takes the meat, as her eyes change shade and meet the herder girl's. Gently, so gently, reaching out with the other hand so that the little one can step onto it, and then as she withdraws a little, carefully...with the green now perched on her, she needs more food for the princess, so she gets some. "She /is/ pretty..." Now she's getting a real close look at her...green shades streaked together. And, of course, /hers/. Who needs a gold?

"Oh. Oh!" exclaims Riadur, watching with rapt interest as the first hatchling, the green, impresses. "Did you see?" He glances between Stavren and Lyliasha. "This really is interesting," he decides. "Almost worth getting in trouble for. Have either of you seen a hatching before?" While he's paying both a fair amount of attention, his eyes are still on the clutch, the brown, and the newly-hatched gold. He does spare enough mind to cringe a bit away from Lyliasha as she and her waving meat settle in beside him. "Well, I'm sure you're safe now," he tells her.

Daikoth is satisfied. As a matter of fact, he whuffles loudly in response to the hatching gold. It's *glowy* and I *want* it, that whuffle says. M'tri looks obstinate, for his part. "Go back to the weyr, and play with Oracle." Daikoth is not appeased. "Fine, fine. But she's going to know that you're an overbearing large lump of uselessness and not come, and go to someone much smarter." Still, M'tri fetches another piece of jerky, sticks it out begrudgingly with one hand, and holds the piece in his mouth steady with the other, growling around it.

Settling down into a more comfortable cross-legged position on the ground he looks up at the closely gathered people towering above him like trees, remembering what it was like to be Crispin's age. His head turns this way and that, then to the little brown leeping out of it's basket. He looks at the freshly hatched gold. "Golds are pretty smart for sure, I'm not sure if she could help you learn, but I bet she could sing along nicely."

"Aye. Glad someone else is taking her home." Lani agrees of the green and then grins at M'tri, "I'm not too worried. If one comes over, then it does. And Tisiath can just deal if not. He says he wants a back scratcher." She rolls her eyes as she glances at the blue who's attention is elsewhere, then she shrugs. Any waves sent her way, she now misses, distracted again by all the activity, but she seems pensive just the same, under it all. "A gold? Shards...Don't let the boys see her, eh?" And then again, "Shards. Daikoth's spotted her already, hmm?"

Stavren is issuing a few apologies to the people who were deafened by his sister's ear-piercing squeals. "Mum will flog her later, I know...no problem," he assures Lyliasha, obligingly making room for the girl. "Crowds are good places to hide in, and you don't look like a desperate criminal. I'm Stavren, a Candidate here." Oh, that was subtle, but humor him. "Hmmm, Riadur?--no, never seen any kind of Hatching. Watched a runner give birth once, but that's not the same."

Tegara is concentrating intently on the gold now. "C'mon li'l queenie," she soothes, coaxing the queen to eat.

T'bay draws back onto his haunches, realizing how silly it looks for a grown man to be crouching on the ground waggling chunks of meat. Peering upward and to the side, he realizes that M'tri and Lanisa are here, and his eyes pass from one of them to the other, one brow quirking with first interest, then amusement as Trii extends a bite from his mouth, before the squeal from Cashie causes him to blink twice, dropping the piece of meat. "Hope you keep your lips, there, M'tri. You'd be an awfully unsatisfying harem master if you lost 'em to a 'lizard bite." Overhearing the conversation about the harper lessons, he nods enthusiastically. "I'd bet they can at that, be of help there. There's a kind of ethereal quality when they all warble or sing along," a glance to Kassi's protective mom is here given, she one of many, "and it is kinda transcendent. Like flying. If that makes any sense at all." Reaching forward, he retrives the meat-part.

Breena, already spied by at least one of the candidates, casts a quick, sidelong smile Eilidh's way, then heads over toward Stavren instead. "No, you won't get into trouble for just being here--hardly something we can control. I'd advise you to stay away from them with food, though." It's not worded as a command, not exactly.

Riadur blinks in surprise, peering at Stavren. "A runner?" he repeats. "Why--nevermind. I've not seen one myself. I wonder if the dragons' hatching will be anything like that." Pause. "I mean, I know we won't be waving meat around to attract them--" he pantomines this action, as though his words weren't clear enough "--but, you know. With all the people, and the hatchlings running around all over the place, impressing. I think." He sighs, then glances up at Breena, expression guilty though he's done nothing wrong. "Yes, ma'am," he tells her quickly.

Ruined World Egg abruptly rolls a few more fingerwidths across the sand in the basket, enjoying the freedom from its little indentation - only to plop into one vacated by a recent egg. There the violet ovoid sits among its sibling's shell-shards, twitching contemplatively.

Claret grimaces, getting a good splattering indeed and retorting in an oddly cheerful tone, "You watch too! I've got meat juices all over me, and I was actually almost clean today." Sounding not the least bit unhappy over the fact, Claret offers an uncontrite, "Dreadfully sorry," as she rights herself, taking a first glance at those standing near Lyliasha. "Criminal? You're a criminal and you're afraid of fire lizard hatchlings? That beats all, I always thought criminals wouldn't be in the least cowardly. Not that you're cowardly," she assures Lyliasha. "Might as well get mucky now, anyway." And so saying she gives herself a little turn, searching out some meat of the same ilk that splattered her.

M'tri seems surprised to have been spotted by T'bay in the crowd; he had missed the brownrider entirely. "T'bay," he greets with a grin, before returning the quip with his own, "Ah, I'd *never* be an unsatisfying harem master.

Elegant Erudite Exceptional Gold Hatchling doesn't end up in a very dignified position after her scramble free--all akimbo in the Sands, but it takes her all of a heartbeat to get control of herself and marshal what pride she may. Her wings still tremble from the exertion she spent in getting free, but she's determined not to show any other sign. She sits, and looks, and only after looking does she take one cautious step forward.

Crispin smiles brightly at T'bay before his focus returns again to the firelizards, watching them both closely, studying their movement and coloring. "She needs nap time," Crispin observes with a giggle.

Tegara continues to coax the elegant little gold to her. "C'mon, you elegant thing you -- you're so beautiful, and I'm sure your hungry, so take a bite of this 'ere meatroll."

M'tri seems surprised to have been spotted by T'bay in the crowd; he had missed the brownrider entirely. "T'bay," he greets with a grin, before returning the quip with his own, "Ah, I'd *never* be an unsatisfying harem master. You don't know what you're talking about." The bluerider grins, saying, "And anyways, I'm sure you've not been around to care." That's fake hurt, there, and he's not paying attention to that meat at the end of his hand. Lani get's only a meaningful look, a slightly worried one, but no more inquiries. She might bite him, being that calm to coax him in or something.

Perouze is pulling back further...not wanting to inadvertantly attract /another/ hatchling while feeding the green, as beautiful and precious as she is, one at a time, with all her duties, will definitely be enough. "Preeny. Prissy." The girl smiles a bit. "Prissy. Definitely Prissy." And those beautiful wings, still egg-damp but drying rapidly. Right now, the .only. thing on the Herder's mind seems to be the new-hatched one.

In her hurried gesture to get those carefully-chosen choice bits of meat away from where they could do any damage to any of her companions, Lyliasha splats a bit on her own tunic. "Ach, would you believe it?" She makes an interesting sight, left hand still waggling towards the hatchlings -- more from habit than intention -- while her right picks bits from her shoulder and even wanders up to check carefully tucked-back hair. "One, but that was from a distance. The eggs had already been promised. There weren't many at the Hall; everyone was too busy studying, or something." The sensical questions answered, the girl turns her mind to Claret's. "Um." A confused moment, followed by an attempt at an answer. "I don't /think/ I'm a criminal." And yet somehow she sounds unsure about it, as though lost in the phrasing. "And I'm afraid of those two," at which she peers about for that healer and his companion, but seems to find no one, "not these." And that, obviously, directed at the firelizards.

Gustive laughs at all the coaxing and meat waggling. His stomach rumbles violently as he looks down at the meatroll he grabbed earlier and takes a small bite out of it.

Stavren ducks his head to Breena respectfully. Hard to bow when you're sitting. "My life's complicated enough right now, Breena. I've got no plans to add something with wings, talons, and fangs to it. At least not till the /bigger/ clutch hatches." Claret's description of a criminal afraid of fire-lizards makes him snort back a laugh.

Lanisa remains a bit behind M'tri, not putting herself forward yet at all as she waves to T'bay and calls out with a typically lopsided grin, "I'd have to second Trii on that." Which part, T'bay can guess for she's distracted by M'tri and leans in to murmur something low.

Predatory Instincts Brown Hatchling slinks around someone's leg, rounding the bend toward other people, other wiggling bits of meat, head tilted sideways first at Gustive's meal - but that's not for him, not easy enough. Oh, the waggling meat in those young, grasping fingers - that's tantalizing prey. With a predatory leap, tail flat out and low for a split-second, he aims for his first meal.

Predatory Instincts Brown Hatchling stumbles towards Crispin.

F'min grins as he notes the little brown zeroing in on his son's offering.

Claret regards Lyliasha with much more interest now; indeed, she looks downright fascinated. "You're a criminal? Oh, how lovely! You must be a dreadful one if you're afraid of healers. Although I don't suppose you should be hanging about here, you might get in trouble. You don't look like a criminal, you know. Maybe that's better." Hearing Stavren's choked laugh, Claret flashes him a bright smile, wiggling her fingers in his direction. "Hullo? You're not an accomplice are you? I hope not, because then I'd have to get upset." And somehow, in the midst of all of her rushed words, she finds time to crouch down a little bit lower and proffer the meat she snatched towards the hatchling, if distractedly.

Ruined World Egg lies absolutely still in its shallow depression, unmoved by the goings-on around it and the inviting warmth of the sand. There comes a moment, though, when it's had enough of serenity; a crack forms in the ruddy shell, only to be immediately spread wide by the extrusion of silvered headknobs. A tempestuous tossing of his head sets the new hatchling free, shaking off sharp-edged shell-shards every which way.

Silvery Wit Rascal Blue Hatchling
     Freed, this narrowly made blue pauses to drink in freedom. Wingspars and forelegs traced with dusty silver highlight a body of rich, noble blue, while similar silvering picks out the expressive details of sturdy headknobs and sleek eyeridges. His talons are a paler, steely blue, nature's markings providing warning of their honed-blade points. Long-necked but otherwise built of compact proportions, he moves with a certain lazy grace which stems from an absolute economy of effort. Constantly stretching his royal neck this way or that to cant his head at the colorful and shiny things in the world which capture his interest, a thieving glint might be discerned in his small, bejeweled eyes.

T'bay raises his hand in a cheerful hallo to the blueriding duo, dripping bits of meat down his wrist. "You haven't invited me to your weyr!" he hoots in return, taking the bait and returning the mock hurt which turns again to that fascinated observation of the pair as the whispering commences. "Aw, shards. I didn't realize I was invited." Being near the groups allows him to overhear just enough to turn, wide eyed, toward them. "And what's this? Criminals? Here? Aren't those pesky Weyrseconds supposed to keep us safe from their lot?"

Crispin gasps, unfamiliar feelings touching his mind as the brown springs for the meatroll in his hand. The bit of food wiggling at the gold drops to the ground, and perhaps someone else can use it, as his hands reach to gently cradle the little firelizard. "Hi," he says softly. "I'm Crispin, son of Mohria rider of blue Riordanth, and F'min rider of brown Voldrath."

Breena makes a face at Riadur. "Didn't we talk about that already?" At Stavren's commnt, she chuckles wryly, eyeing the hatchlings stumbling about. "Yes, that would certainly complicate things--whether you're wearing one of those knots or not, I'm quite sure. And even they are no match for the bigger ones."

F'min laughs aloud as Crispin introduces himself so formally to his new friend. "Well, I'm glad t'see his recent lessons haven'gone beggin'," he comments to no one in particular.

As Crispin succeeds in attracting the brown's attention, Riadur smiles. "I hope his parents are understanding when he brings that one home," he remarks. The boy's habitual introduction inspires the candidate to laughter, though. Riadur sobers quickly at Breena's words. "Yes, m--I mean, I'm sorry," he apologizes contritely. "I forget."

Elegant Erudite Exceptional Gold Hatchling has some choice before her. There's meatroll here, yes; but there's fresher meat... over that way, is it? Yes indeed. A quick comparison of the two options convinces her that perhaps fresh is more the sort of thing she would enjoy. If the person who's waggling it isn't paying *so* much attention as she might like... well, she believes she can change that.

Eilidh returns from her chitchat with that Icewind rider, poor man, and slips into a spot near Breena. Across the way, she glances at T'bay, catching the other rider's voice and flashes him a grin. "Did I miss much? Hey!"

Elegant Erudite Exceptional Gold Hatchling stumbles towards Lyliasha.

Gustive claps without realizing it, dropping his meatroll in his lap. "Like father like son, huh?"

Perouze does manage to take note of the kid impressing the brown and offers him a smile. Somehow, that seems right. The green is now pretty much stuffed and starting to doze off draped along Pero's arm. And, softly, she notes to Riadur, "I think his father's actually here, so if there was going to be trouble." Of course, that causes her to fail to notice the gold's choice altogether.

Stavren tries to restrain his snorting. Dignity, always dignity. "Nope, not a criminal," he assures Claret. "Just Stavren the Candidate. I've been accused of being heartless and just plain mean, but I don't think those are official criminal charges yet." His attention is drawn back to the hatchlings, and his mouth shapes a silent "oh" of appreciation as the blue appears. And as the gold..."Well. Congratulations! I'd say more, but I don't know your name."

"I heard that," V'lano murmurs from up there on the rock, his eyes for a moment on T'bay - merry, if a little wary too - then hops down and begins a path through the crowd. He's aiming for a blond-haired woman, or maybe a weyrlingmaster, it's hard to say which, but he'll get to Eilidh first since she's at her side now. That's assuming he'll get there at all, tangled in the crowd and watching his boots to make sure they don't trod upon any other tiny beasties hunting for a meal.

Tegara is nearly in tears as she sees the gold wander away from her. Then she grabs for a piece of the raw meat from the tray provided and practically shoves it under the gold's nose.

Crispin turns and beams at Gustive, "Thank you!" He cradles the little brown and begins feeding him slowly, "Don't eat too fast, you'll get sick," he says.

M'tri doesn't hold back a small cheer for Crispin. "Congrats, lad!" he calls, grinning. "I was rooting for him," he explains to Lani and T'bay, as though he owes it to them for some reason or another. Then, as a second thought, he responds, "You're welcome any time," in a tone that suggests he's not just kidding about that. "If you'd like. Though, we still have some decorating to do, and we're in the process of tearing down the wall..." Trailing off, the bluerider leans over to listen to Lanisa, blinks for a few seconds, and then pales slightly. Daikoth, from where he's sitting, rumbles a warning to his rider. And he's not very happy when the gold wanders in the opposite direction, to another person. As a matter of fact, Daikoth looks totally betrayed. Instead of paying attention to his obviously heartbroken lifemate, Trii responds, "Your..." before lowering his voice again.

As the gold heads toward his small section of the crowd, Riadur is briefly inspired to near-panic; however, he calms, breathing a sigh of relief, as the firelizard veers instead to Lyliasha beside him. "Congratulations," he offers her, smiling.