[Log] Illegitimate Impressions, Pt. 3

[brazenbronzer]

Who: Breena, Cashie (NPC), Claret, Corona, 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. 2 here.

Cashie is already regathering her wits to make a go at the blue when fate intervenes in the form of a big sister. She is unceremoniously dragged away from the hatching, complaining loudly the whole time. Her handful of meat drops away in the scuffle, leaving a trail of gobbets that ends an inch or two from Riadur. Let's hope none of the hatchlings take that as an invitation.

Silvery Wit Rascal Blue Hatchling stretches some more. It's important to stretch before leaping like a crazy flash of silver from your nest to the lakeshore! Once there he seems to focus on the tiny green of a weed-sprout no larger than his own largest talon. With his target picked out he yawns widely, conjuring images of a dragon flaming - less, it seems, the flame. His jaw snaps shut after this showy display of sharp teeth and serpentine tongue, and only after regrettably noting the weed survives does he tilt his head upward - upward, toward the scents of food.

Catastrophic Cursed Caliginous Egg gives its first real, vigorous rock, dislodging the small sand-nest that its mother built around it.

T'bay raises one hand, sadly, the meat-holding on, to mock tip a hat he isn't wearing toward F'min. "Lessons good for something, can't be all bad. He's cute, too," and the rider must mean the boy, but then his eyes drift toward the energetic voice of Eilidh, patting the ground at his side. "Hey yourself. You missed..." his eyes following the gold's progress suggest that one found a home, "...but it looks like there are more, if you've a fancy? Or if you're collecting eggs. To put in pots? Sarevith says you have gardening pots? To keep the moisture from rotting the, er. Plants." Though he continues addressing the brownrider, his brow perks at the words nearby. "Heartless? And what's that about the wall, Trii? Redecorating already?"

Crispin gets to his feet and backs away from the crowd, leaving Gustive and Tegara with a bright and encouraging smile.

Lyliasha certainly has a lot going on. Claret's obviously more than she can handle, so putting that hurdle off for a moment, the girl returns to a previous introduction from Stavren. "Lyliasha, but just Asha's fine." And then, her name out, it's time for the apprentice to face the mightily misguided greenrider to her other side. "Well, you see, I..." A pause, a thought, and she begins again. "That is to say, you have it backwards and, well, oh!" The sudden exclamation is inspired by a tiny gold who does, indeed, more than attract her attention; the queen saves her from a very difficult explanation. Another shy smile escapes the girl for the pair of congrats that come her way, and then she begins to feed that meet, so carefully selected, to the tiny 'lizard.

Catastrophic Cursed Caliginous Egg is so dark that it's difficult to see the first cracks appearing, but there are sounds of protest to mark its breaking--both from the egg and from the creeling hatchling inside--and, finally, its two halves separate to reveal a blue so tiny that one can but wonder how he managed in that oversized shell.

Chaotic Confused Compensating Blue Hatchling
     He just doesn't look right at first glance--there's something about his proportions that's just off, with blunt, short wings, a narrow spike of a tail, and a head that seems too large for his body. His coloration isn't much less off-putting, for while the dull periwinkle of his body, lightly touched with violet, is easy enough to look at, the jagged streaks of far brighter blue-green that mark the edges of his delicate wingsails are not the world's best match. But for all of this, he moves with no more clumsiness than any of his clutchmates; and when he chooses, he'll be perfectly able to fly. Perhaps even more so than most... for he seems determined to prove himself the fastest, the strongest, the most agile blue in existence, even now when he pushes his way past other eggs and away from his shards without looking back. He may not understand this place he's found himself in, but he'll charge in regardless, and hopefully find the one who'll find his bumbling endearing enough that they want to be his guide.

Lanisa misses the little blue's arrival, and that a bit of the meat she held slips out of her fingers as she calls quick to T'bay, before her whisper sinks in elswhere, "Aye, You're welcome to come by, T'bay. Of course you are." And then she's watching Trii again nodding, biting her lip a little as she grins, "Aye. Positive."

F'min grins to T'bay. "Yes, he is. Takes after his mother." Then, with a nod, he heads through the crowd until he reaches his son, shielding the boy and his new friend from the bustling around them. "That's quite a hadnful y've found for y'self," he says proudly, ruffling the boy's hair.

Claret glances after the gold as it makes its way towards Lyliasha, emitting only a vague, "Oh, that's nice," by way of congratulations, far more focused on her new discovery of criminals, ducking her chin into a nod of agreement with T'bay. "They are supposed to, aren't they? But that's all right, this criminal doesn't look too dangerous." Pointing to Stavren's knot, Claret ducks her chin into another knot, "That's why I'd have to get upset if you were an accomplice, although being mean isn't very pleasant either, I guess. 'M Claret." Lyliasha's stammered explanation is listened to with interest, but when it doens't amount to anything coherent, Claret simply offers, "That's all right, you don't need to explain."

Crispin looks up at his father and beams, "Look!"

Crispin says "Do I have to name him now? I can't think of anything."

Gustive watches Spin show off his new friend to his father with a grin. Picking up the meatroll in lap hand he absently takes another bite out of it without thinking what it was originally meant for.

"I am completely accomplice-free," Stavren informs Claret with a remarkably straight face. "I have no plots, no plans, no nefarious schemes. Plot-free, that's me. Just watching the hatching with my friends. Pleased to meet you, greenrider Claret and Asha." He lifts his chin to steal an admiring glance at Lyliasha's newly-acquired gold. "Such a pretty thing. Maybe she'll protect you from those Healers you're concerned about."

"Lyliasha," Riadur tries out the name hesitantly, nodding. "I'm Riadur, also a candidate," he adds to her. "You're from--I'm sorry; I know you told Nikadis earlier, but I wasn't listening." He frowns downward at that, and in the process catches sight of the meat flopping down in front of him. Oh, no! Now he really can panic. "It's--it's meat!" he declares densely, gawking at the meat. "Your--" he looks about vainly for Cashie, frowning when she's gone. "Stavren, your sister dropped her meat," he finally tells the candidate on his other side, pointing at the offending item.

F'min grins. "No, I don'think there's any rush on that. Just feed him for now, an'when he's sleepy, we'll bundle th'two of y'up an'take y'home so y'can show your Ma your new friend."

"Oh," the blonde bubbles blithely to T'bay, "I can't Impress one anyway. Ma says I can't, well, I could, but I don't know if it's wise." Eilidh is, if anything, at least self-aware, and she manages a wry smile for T'bay, "I can barely keep up with myself and Cay, to care for another thingie thing." But even as the little hatchlings are eyed covetously, she sticks close towards the Weyrlingmaster's side. "Congratulations!" The exuberant voice calls out to any of the others who've Impressed a firelizard.

Crispin smiles and nods and walks off gently with his father, after offering a happy wave back to the group and his new friends.

M'tri is properly stunned, for his part. And he hasn't even been bitten by a lizard tonight. It's rather slowly that his mouth turns up in a grin, and he says, "By the egg, you're..." and that's all he can manage properly before leaning back against the rock and just grin. A bit stupidly.

Tegara shakes her head and sighs. Maybe, just maybe, she'll get a 'lizard tonight -- maybe....

Chaotic Confused Compensating Blue Hatchling is none too fast to dredge himself out of the daze that his first sight of the world has caused. In fact, he remains lying between the halves of his shell for long enough that one might almost become alarmed... especially given his not-so-healthy proportion. But maybe he takes his clutchbrother as inspiration, since when that crazy flash flashes by him--well, he rears up to his haunches like a rocket, and starts to take after it. That one knows where he's going! He'll lead him to the food! He'll--oof! The smaller blue trips and takes a nosedive into the sand.

After a brief break for a snack, the lanky Nikadis is back. Half a meatroll in his hand, he peers around the crowd and elbows his way through for a better look. Hunger satiated, he plops himself down in the said and peers at the hatchlings with interest.

T'bay listens a moment longer to the candidates and Claret, adding, "Plot free? That's a terrible shame. How about engaging the Weyrleader in a pirate's duel in the living cavern? That's a fun past-time, at least." He crabwalks sideways, clear of the young boy, his father, and the lizard, leaving a meat-trail at his side, and more empty space should Eilidh decide to sit, and he is halfway through tearing in half his meat bit in an offering to the brownrider when he frowns, uncertainly, as she returns to Breena's side. This tracks his vision toward Lanisa, half camoflauged behind M'tri. "There's just something...gah. About this that makes me feel oblivious," he shares, his volume pitched toward the duo.

Lyliasha's giggle for Riadur's absurd reaction to a few bits of meat is well hidden, her right hand covering her mouth until a gentle, but insistent, creel reminds the girl of feeding duties. Stavren's remark about other healers, though, gives her definite pause, as eyes widen with worry. "I don't think they'll be very happy about this. And I'm sharing a room." Another hungry note from her hatchling confirms that the noise might just be a problem, there. As though to distract herself from that unforseen difficulty, she rattles off rapidly to Riadur, with less than perfect sense, "From Bitra, Healer, and Fort. Midwifery."

"She's a pretty thing," Breena observes, of Lyliasha's newfound friend. She shakes her head at Eilidh's comment, makes another face. "I don't like to speak unkindly of other people's parents, but I'm not sure I'd like her if I ever met her." She's still lingering somewhere near the knot of candidates, but behind them, out of the heaviest knot of people traffic.

Gustive gives Tegara a slightly comforting glance. A slow grin spread across his face as he thinks of something. "Maybe you just don't have the right bait." He bolts up from his sitting position, nearly stumbling as one of his legs had fallen asleep, he recovers and grabs some of the fishing tackle to drag it back to his spot. "Let's hope my luck is better tonight," he comments with a laugh.

Gustive takes out a fish-line and a hook. Baiting up, he casts it a long way out into the water. And waits.

Up is such a long way for a tiny creature such as the Silvery Wit Rascal Blue Hatchling. He laps his narrow tongue over his little maw and creeps sideways, walking claw-over-claw past the undignified heap of his sibling. Up and down, down and up the little hatchling looks, peeking at the ground to place his next step -just so,- then skyward to pick out potential food gobbets.

Gustive tugs rapidly on his line, hauling in a wriggling packtail

Stavren glances from Lyliasha and her new friend to the source of Riadur's concern. "Did she? I guess she did. Cashie never picks up after herself." He idly nudges one of the pieces with his foot, making it twitch in a prey-like manner. "Sorry about that, Riadur. A pirate's duel?..." There's just no realy way to answer T'bay's comment, at least not until he finds himself an eyepatch, so he turns back to Asha instead. "You picked a good night to visit Telgar, then."

Imperturbable Injurious Ice Egg quivers. Trembles. Quavers. Wavers. Wiggles. Squirms. And, having done all this, stills.

Perouze has simply moved back to where she can watch the rest of the proceedings. They're so cute and pretty, but right now, the one on her arm wins all contests. "You're going to be a handful," she murmurs to the green, "I can tell...but..." But worth it, most likely.

Ahh, well, for stunned Lani will look a little anxious. But for that grin, she'll smile, and nod again. Another bit of the meat she held, carelessly dropped as she shifts to lean against him, as Trii leans against the rock. "Aye." To T'bay she blinks innocently and grins lopsidedly as well, "Anything you'd like cleared up in particular?"

Blue Steel Armored Egg rattles. Eggs aren't supposed to rattle, but this one does, and it might not wholly be a good sign, since it seems to be shaking itself fairly apart, shell-parts clattering against one another like armor.

Eilidh cranes her neck to try and peek at Lyliasha's new lizard and frowns, "I can't see, but I'll take your word for it." The dark-skinned girl fidgets in place, her hands trying to find a place to settle, but instead float about aimlessly. She trails after Breena, smiling at the candidates, and winking a bit at Riadur. Not so quietly, she leans over to whisper loudly towards the greenrider, "He's kind of funny, don't you think? And ma's ma. She's my ma. I guess, that's all that matters, y'know? But now I'm far from her so it doesn't matter as much." She's nothing if obvious, and in her distraction with watching the firelizard creatures, the people wiggling meat towards them, and keeping her eye on candidates, she misses V'lano's approach.

Claret seems to have given up hearing more from Lyliasha, so shrugging one shoulder she turns a grave glance on Stavren. "You must be very boring. But I guess that's a good thing, even if it is too bad for you. At least you can't get in trouble over anything! Ooh, look, it fell," Claret observes suddenly, her gaze on the blue hatchling. "Poor thing." With a bit more of a mind to where her fingers are, she extends the meat towards the little blunderer, though she adds a "Or a feline fight. Where you're the feline and you get killed," over her shoulder to Stavren.

Gustive unhooks the packtail and quickly tosses the still wriggling fish at Tegara. "Hoi, try that, live bait!" Maybe his luck will hold twice...

Gustive takes out a fish-line and a hook. Baiting up, he casts it a long way out into the water. And waits.

Tegara grabs the wriggling fingertail and waves it in the general direction of any of the hatchlings.

Gustive tugs rapidly on his line, hauling in a wriggling yellowfin

"So are you planning on taking one of these?" V'lano's right next to Eilidh in saying this, but his gaze sticks on her only a moment before sliding right on past toward Breena. Perhaps the question's for them both. "Wouldn't want the candidates to get them." He's very official about that. Very stern. Very trying not to grin.

Riadur, still grimacing at the meat splayed about on the ground after Cashie's untimely exit, tells Lyliasha, "Someone else was from Bitra. Um..." He glances around quickly, but doesn't find the person he's looking for in the press of bodies. "Gustive, I think it was. Do you need some more meat for yours?" He eyes first the golden hatchling, then the meat before him. Now that his initial astonishment is over, he's trying to cope. Well, until Stavren nudges a piece. "No, don't touch it!" he cautions, wincing. "Ignore it. Maybe it'll, I don't know, go away." Because meat is well known for its vanishing properties. "We're going to get in trouble if they think we did it."

Daikoth splashes about in a frenzy but the small fingertail wiggles from his grasp and escapes.

Silvery Wit Rascal Blue Hatchling has a rhythm going, but the beat gets fouled when his forepaw comes down on a lump of meat, however, and his gaze rivets on it - jackpot! And another one behind it! And another! He creeps along them, trying to jam each one into his teeth - not to eat, just yet, but to keep - so it's a lizard with a mouth dragging low with meat-bits that winds up at the end of the crumb-trail, peering upward, eyes whirling. See? Meat is known for its vanishing properties!

Silvery Wit Rascal Blue Hatchling stumbles towards Riadur.

Tegara wonders how many of the eggs have hatched already -- she has yet to see any bronzes.

Stavren waves away Riadur's worries. "Oh please. Like anyone would blame you or me for something my sister did. And as if any fire-lizard would actually follow a trail of meat to someone sitting perfectly still..." Oh. Well. Hmmmmm.

M'tri grins at T'bay, that silly, goofy, happy grin of his, but doesn't say a whole lot in the way of elaboration. That's Lani's job. Instead, he remarks in passing, "You're missing the blues," to Lani. Not that he cares a whole lot. His own meat still lurks somewhere out there, but he's not paying attention to it. Daikoth is, though, and nothing's happening, to his dismay.

Blue Steel Armored Egg clatters louder, then holds quite still, giving the whole issue some thought. Ponderous.

Gustive pulls the hook out of the yellowfin and sets the fish next to him. He wonders how much fish a firelizard can eat? Seeing that the other newly hatched lizards seem to devour almost everything in it's sights, he decides maybe a few more fish would help out on the slowly dwindly meat supplies.

Gustive takes out a fish-line and a hook. Baiting up, he casts it a long way out into the water. And waits.

Gustive tugs rapidly on his line, hauling in a wriggling fingertail

Steadfastly ignoring the meat, Riadur rubs at the back of his neck and looks everywhere else: at Stavren, at Lyliasha, at the sky. "They might. I mean, if we hadn't been here in the first--Oh, shards." Uncharacteristically, Riadur spits out a series of creative curses as something moving by his feet attracts his gaze despite his best efforts. "Nothing to see here. Move along," he frantically motions the blue hatchling away. To absolutely no avail. Very, very carefully, he pushes one of the last pieces of meat toward the hatchling by him when it refuses to just go away. "I'm going to be in trouble," he notes, torn. He sighs, though, and moves to pick up the hatchling at last. "Not your fault, though," he tells it. He doesn't look around anymore, particularly at the candidate coordinators.

Tegara looks over at her friend and smiles. "I can' thank ya enow, Gustive," she says, gathering in the fish.

Blue Steel Armored Egg slumps sideways, its slight upright elongation turning to a horizontal axis as it tumbles over in the sand. The egg is thereafter perfectly still for several moments before the pale creases around one of its apparent shields tremble and expand, finally bursting apart to send the panel free. Emerging from the place where the 'lid' was opened, the wide-eyed lizard within blinks in triplet sets of eyelids, one after another, to clear goo from her facets and take in for the first time a world of strange, tall beings and tempting scents.

Pern Mother Green Hatchling
     Magnificent in her naivete, this compact, lithe green moves with such fluidity that from time to time it hardly seems she has bones at all. What skeletal structure she does have is finely made, stretched with sleek muscles and little else beneath glistening hide of freshwater green. Headknobs draped with swirls of pale sunshine blonde are tucked tightly back from her slender head, their curious coloration dripping down to highlight eyeridges and the rearmost curves of her lower jaw. Wide eyes seem often expressionless in their many-faceted wonder, bearing confusion as their primary mark when her deep-seated feelings are apparent in her features. She tires quickly, not long from the shell, and droops beneath the shelter of ghostly-gossamer wingsails to rest - but not for long, soon obliged to seek out someone, anyone, to explain her self - to herself.

Chaotic Confused Compensating Blue Hatchling gives what he'd doubtless like to be a roar of indignation. It comes out more of a squeak. Poor, befuddled thing--even once he rights himself, he's still wandering, wandering, wandering... it's sheer good fortune that he wanders towards someone who might take pity on him, because goodness knows he's going to need a lot of that. He darts his head forward to take a bite of Claret's meat, trilling at her hopefully. Save him from himself, would you, please?

Chaotic Confused Compensating Blue Hatchling stumbles towards Claret.

The small firelizard in Lyliasha's lap is soon sated, curled up, and deeply asleep in the short order that only hatchlings can manage. She therefore has a chance to catch Riadur's mistake, and eyes widen. "My, my." It takes some time for the apprentice to figure out whether to applaud or give her condolences, and she spends the meantime in a mixture of both. "Well done, well done. And, erm, don't worry. I'm sure you won't get into /too/ much trouble, you know." Helpful, isn't she?

Deep blue eyes fixate on T'bay's back, the empty spot to his side given due consideration. "T'bay!" Eilidh calls out, an exuberant wave beginning to make sure he doesn't miss where she is, "Firelizards are a big responsibility, think ya can handle it?" She's totally teasing, cheerful at that, until V'lano interrupts, and large eyes blink. In that blink, her focus moves from the brownrider to the arrived Weyrsecond, wary. Very wary. "I'm not allowed, ma says I can't." Though her ma's not really here. "You're not scowling at me." She seems pleased and uncertain, but beams up at the man anyway. She's the more oblivious of the two blondes it would seem, as a complacent nod is sent Riadur and Stavren's way when she spots them.

Breena, spotting Riadur's predicament, gives a quick, somehow pained smile. "Too late for that. Not me, though. I have enough with Sonaith, and once through with an infant stomach with wings is plenty." Though she addressses the responses to V'lano, she's watching as the various babies impress away.

Imperturbable Injurious Ice Egg shows first one crack, then two... but then all motion stops. Perhaps the fire-lizard inside has changed its mind about emerging? It would certainly seem that way, as the seconds tick by without any further progress. But just as the clutchmother's humming takes on a note of concern, the hatchling makes a violent push and his casing collapses into several ragged shards, a few tiny pieces marring his dark bronze hide and the others fallen at his feet.

Silent Sullen Sharp Bronze Hatchling
     Dark, dark, dark. This newborn fire-lizard is so dark, in fact, that while he's still damp with egg-goo it might be hard to make out his coloring, and only when he spreads his wings to dry them will the dully metallic gleam of their sails give him away. Many an eye would find him handsome; some might even say he'll be lovely someday, with his exquisite conformation and that tarnished, shadowed hide. But the way he holds himself works against that. He crouches, and hunches, and never stands straight unless it's to snap or hiss. He keeps his delicate wings furled close and rarely puts himself on display. There's one exception: he's all too willing to show off the edged curves of his talons, and would be just as willing, one might surmise, to sink those talons into anything that might invade his space.

"She's not here, Eilidh," Breena adds, and given the sudden ascerbic tone, it's probably for the best. "Take a meatroll and see what happens?"

T'bay grins encouragingly back at Stavren, and nods to Claret. "Absolutely. Dying felines are the latest thing, not to mention loads of entertainment. He's a brutal one, that Weyrleader." His mischievous wink suggests it to be all in fun, and perhaps entirely invented at that. "Maybe he'd tell it to you sometime." Attention drawn by that semi-offer from Lanisa, the green eyed young man blinks solidly, considering. "Ah. Hm. Maybe about that grinning business?" One brow quirks, then draws downward, causing the eye to squint, and he misses subsequent Impressions for a few moments, eyeing instead. "I suppose you could be that excited about the hatching lizards, but...uh. Don't tell me Thunderbolt strikes again.--What? Me? I'm lizardless, so far. I've been, hrm." The meat is turned over in his hands, held outward toward the sands and shards, "Distracted."

Tegara spots the feisty bronze and waves the still-wiggling fingertail under his nose. "Here, ya hansome thin' you -- c'mon 'ere an' have a bit o' fresh fish."

Gustive unhooking the fingertail he waves it at Tegara. "Don't thank me yet, Lady Archer, we'll see if my fishing comes in handy yet.

Stavren is guilty. And amused. And rather likes that silvery, clever little blue. "I'm...sorry? Kind of? Really, Riadur, he's charming. And Breena doesn't seem to be ranting at you and throwing crockery, so it's all right, I think. If it helps, I'll berate Cashie later. She'll be mortified that you got one by accident when she couldn't attract one." He looks back to the clutch, admiring the new green and dark bronze--and then he glimpses a familiar face. "Corona?" He sounds downright pleased. "Welcome to the Weyr, Lady Beachholder! Come watch with us, try your luck. I'll cheer you on."

"I tol' ya not ta' call me th' Lady Archer," Tegara shouts at Gustive. "An' I'll thank ya' when I want ta' -- which is right now."

"Aye, Daikoth, that one's shiny, too," M'tri assures the blue. He's acting a bit more normal now that he's metabolized whatever he was told, and he does humor his dragon well enough by sticking the meat out, and maybe even trying a bit harder for the first time to catch something on the bait of jerky.

"Nor I," V'lano murmurs, and that one's certainly for Breena. His eyes search her, as if upon her he might find some clue to a mystery, but all he comes away with is a bit of a smile and a pinkness in his ears. Entirely professionally, he turns his gaze back toward the hatchlings, inching a little bit away from Eilidh while noting, more lively, "Of course I'm not. Should I be?" And then he's -grinning- at the brownrider, all the better to ask, "-Why- exactly does your ma say no?" A glance at T'bay, to see if he's following that invitation, neither adding to nor subtracting from it.

Tisiath's well aware of where the blues are too. Wouldn't you know it. Keeping his eyes pealed, ever hopeful on a 'mini me'. As if his ego wasn't big enough already? "Am I?" Lani asks M'tri, not looking even half ready to budge herself. T'bay's reply, gains, "What grinning?" Right. And she grins all the more with that guess, "Don't tell me you doubted Thunderbolt would strike?"

Riadur, looking quite guilty, with his blue firelizard in arm, turns to face Breena. Or, more precisely, at her feet. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he says at his most contrite. "I, uh, well. I impressed one. I'm sorry. It was an accident, but it was my fault. Really. It's not her fault." The last is added to Stavren, in meek defense of Cashie.

Corona has a rather flabbergasted expression gracing her face as she ambles by the lakeshore, an array of small packages in tow. The knot of people has drawn her attention, though she's seems to be keeping her brown-eyed gaze firmly towards the sky, muttering something about her ride being late. Finally, she gives a sigh and glances towards those gathered here, squinting until she spots one face familiar to her-Stavren-and carefully she sidles towards him, adjusting her packages as she does so. "I didn't expect to see you here," she murmurs once she's reached his side, and then quickly adding a rather amused "Hi!". Her smile is airy; the nickname still hasn't failed to get to her as of yet.

Claret gives a surprised blink as she feels a tug on the meat in her hands, having looked away for a moment while the hatchling did its wandering towards her. "Oh dear!" are her initial words, but what they refer to is uncertain because happily enough she reaches out the hand that's not holding the meat to make sure the little blue keeps himself righted, though words drift over her shoulder again to Stavren. "Better watch out. You never know when he might come get you. If you decide to be a feline or a pirate for the day or something." That said, she gathers the hatchling up while he's distracted with his gorging, trying to scoot her way out of the crowd.

Pern Mother Green Hatchling struggles as if already exhausted to the edge of the basket where, dramatically, she slumps to the edge and hangs her head over. Wings sprawled in a tent over her back, she warbles melodiously, covering a span of fourths before slumping into weary fifths an octave up, somewhere around the place that humans stop hearing and canines twitch by the end of her vocal exercise. Her chin tilts up afterward - did anyone notice how lovely that was? And isn't anyone going to give me a ride to the free buffet?

After a reproachful look at Breena and her tone, Eilidh repeats for the Weyrsecond, as if from memory, "Ma says I'm as daft as a drafty wind up a hussy's skirt in the winter. But," her chin lifts hopefully, "Maybe since she's not here she won't know. And since she won't know, she can't yell at me." Wincing, the girl shakes her head, "When she yells it gets all shrill and batty." Encouragement is sent towards Riadur's way, a bobble of her head forward indicating that this candidate coordinator is quite remiss. But when she thinks Claret or Breena might be watching, her motions halt and her eyes widen, replacing that smile with a pseudo stern look. Inching away from her coordinator partner in crime and the brightly grinning bronzerider, she tries to slip away unnoticed to T'bay's side.

Silent Sullen Sharp Bronze Hatchling huddles sullenly amidst the remains of his egg. Not coming out. He's not coming out. Any of those idiots out there who want to try luring him--they can just go talk to a wall. But... he does need food... and there's no food *here*... the unhappiness in his creel is less for hunger than for unwanted *necessity*. With something of a glare for that noisy sister of his, he sulks one step forward. Then another. Are you happy now?

There hasn't been much sound from Kassima this evening, so busy is she watching her fire-lizards' children be born; but, "Thunderbolt *always* strikes," she intones from atop her rock. Of course.

Gustive cocks an eyebrow at Tegara and snorts, the fingertail struggling to get out of his hands. He tosses it at her flippant;y. He turns back to his fishing, muttering under his breath.

Gustive takes out a fish-line and a hook. Baiting up, he casts it a long way out into the water. And waits.

M'tri pipes up in response to Lanisa and T'bay's innuendos, "Ah, yeah, well, they doubt. You should hear the terrible teasing." That's said with a grin that's still so rediculously silly he looks like he should part of the ranks of candidates. And he giggles when Kassi makes her remark, too. "And I thought you were all doubting me," he amends of his previous statement.

Stavren grins at Corona and flicks the Candidate knot on his shoulder. "I was given an invitation I couldn't refuse," he deadpans. "Very convincing brown dragon, and my sisters are all varying shades of green with jealousy. Are you visiting for the day? Looks like you've been doing some trading in the storerooms." He waves a hand around the cluster of people. "These are my fellow Candidate Riadur, Weyrlingmaster Breena, greenrider Claret, and midwife Lyliasha. And their shiny new fire-lizards. You should try for one, Corona."

"Hey there, li'l bronze -- come to me an' have a fresh fish." Tegara says.

Gustive hauls in his line, having caught only an old boot.

Breena looks singularly unapologetic in the face of Eilidh's reproachful look. Glancing between Stavren, Riadur, and the blue firelizard, she mumbles something undere her breath about coming up with a suitable punishment. The approach of th latest hatchlings have her stepping back, even though she's nowhere close to being within range--and without the food the things are seeking.

T'bay's following up on the invite from V'lano and Eilidh, "Your mom says no because she doesn't want to oil lizard hide!" This seems to be a good reason why his own mom would say no, so he choruses it on her behalf. "C'mon over, miss Eilidh. Cozy by, have a bite to hold out." Demonstrating how, he does so, half his slice offered toward the vicinity of the wandering or preening hatchlings. Though then Lanisa's providing enough of an answer that he has to forcibly close his own mouth before he catches insects, sadly, entirely missing Eilidh's mom's picturesque analogy. When his mouth finally cooperates again, he is whispering, "Save me. Save me from Thunderbolt. I mean, uh. Well." His own dumbstruck look pasted firmly in place, he ventures, "That's...wonderful?"

"Not too daft for a dragon," is V'lano's thoughtful, and certainly very flattering, reply. He shrugs, though, to temper it. He's not -pushing- her toward the meat, certainly. He's not -seeking- to have her away from Breena for all of two seconds, definitely not. He's just being a friendly Weyrsecond trying to get rid of a certain greenrider's firelizard's brood while sneaking eyes at another greenrider. And T'bay? He gets a grin for his help in the cause, knowing or not. This all makes perfect, perfect sense.

Alluring Atramentous Amethyst Egg rolls over once, almost languidly, in the sand. Hatching? Yes, it will hatch. When it *feels* like it.

Gustive glowers at the old boot and turns it over, a flood of water gushing out. Picking up his half eaten and almost forgotten meatroll he stares at it dolefully.

Claret would be similarly remiss in her duties if she had even noticed yet that one of the other hatchlings had stumbled towards a candidate, but not having noticed she seems quite pleased enough to tuck her legs under her out of the way, helping her own hatchling to get sated, and offering a smile for Corona as she finds herself introduced.

Lanisa tosses one of the bits of meat she still holds out towards the little hatchings. Still not noticing the bits left at her feet. Just feeding from afar to those who notice the bits of meatroll if so inclined. "Have I ever doubted you or Thunderbolt, Trii? Just think, if I was in there too, this would likely be round two or we'd be seeing double." With bright eyes, she gives a wink to Kassi, and watches T'bay with amusement, though she keeps her answer to a simple, straight forward, "Thank you."

Riadur looks quite embarrassed, even if for the moment he's not being lectured sternly. He doesn't meet Breena's gaze as the sternest of his superiors; Eilidh he glances at and offers some flicker of expression that's probably supposed to be a smile in some other universe. Stavren's introduction of him to another brings his gaze up, and he manages to offer Corona a brief flicker of a smile as well. "Hi."

Lyliasha's blue gaze travels upwards from the sleeping 'lizard she's handling so carefully to the Igenite to whom she's being introduced. "Oh, no midwife," the girl hastens to assure first Corona, and then Stavren, angular nose pointed quite earnestly at first one and then the other. "Only an apprentice, still studying." And mention of that "studying" brings about a cringe; if the journeyman hasn't noted her absence by now, he's more dense than a healer ought to be. However, that's shrugged off for the moment in favor of a polite, if shy, "Well met."

Pern Mother Green Hatchling slinks down off of the basket's edge, tumbling the last few inches as her length proves inadequate for such sinuous escape. She rolls in a bundle and comes up sitting pretty, forelegs hung from her chest as if she's begging - and perhaps, seeing all the tidbits available, she is. She's only content to remain thus for a moment before leaping to her feet, energy nearly renewed. With an experimental sweep of her wings that leaves trails in the sand from her dragging spars, she hops a few times, sending up new warbles in triads for attention.

Before she departs Breena's side, an attempt to brush fleeting touches of fingertips to the greenrider's hand is imparted as a parting greeting, followed by a shy, but quite encouraging smile. That done, Eilidh finds herself fluttering down next to T'bay, holding her hand out solemnly, "Meat. If I'm a'gonna try, I might as well give a good go at it, right? You should name him, her? What'd you get anyway, Riadur? A purple plotzed striped one?" V'lano's comment is either ignored, or unheard, but given her gregarious nature it seems the latter is more valid.

M'tri chuckles, leans forward a bit and intones in a voice just loud enough for Lani, T'bay, and maybe Kassima: "We'll sic it on you first, trust me." That's obviously not supposed to be a comforting thing. "He or she'll call you Uncle T'bay, and we'll have Dai and Tisi randomly land on your ledge just so you can babysit."

"And why do you need saving from Thunderbolt?" Eilidh adds, giving T'bay a funny look.

Setting the meatroll on his leg, Gustive casts out his line again, in a more annoyed fashion. "Collecting fish for her..." he mutters, "yelling at me." His mutters trail off unheard.

Gustive takes out a fish-line and a hook. Baiting up, he casts it a long way out into the water. And waits.

Tegara's attention is suddenly diverted by the charming green that just slid down the edge of the basket. "C'mon 'ere, li'l darlin' -- you're so cute..."

Gustive hauls in his line, having caught only a long green weed.

Silent Sullen Sharp Bronze Hatchling is somewhat displeased to learn the sad truth: when you're a bit of a little snot, people are less likely to bring meat to you than when you're green and adorable. Life would be so much easier if people would just... leave food laying around and let him take it, and not bother with *them*. But that doesn't seem to be in the cards. So he'll go for the next best thing: some jerky that was offered awhile ago, but has since been ignored. Maybe he can steal it without the owner noticing. And then again, maybe not.

Silent Sullen Sharp Bronze Hatchling stumbles towards M'tri.

Brow furrowed, Breena looks between V'lano and Eilidh, a frown lingering at the corners of her mouth. That brief touch of Eilidh's fingers is met, retuned, then she casts a sidelong look the bronzerider's way. "What was that about?"

T'bay's oogling pauses as the trills of the latest green to burst forth draw his attention and the directed wriggles of his meat bits, and he focuses on the little hatchling while all the color drains from his face. Chewing firmly on his lip, he steadfastly refuses to answer Eilidh, focused and intent, until he can't bear it, and a few beads of sweat form on his forehead, the result of utter and abject fear, which he smothers by shrugging it off and grinning, relaxing even as the whispers of M'tri reach his ears. "Be the sitter. Now being the sitter, I can handle. I'm good at sitting!"

Alluring Atramentous Amethyst Egg shivers, knocking against one of its nearby clutchmates with a muted tap. This proof of something outside the shell seems to give the fire-lizard within new energy: it batters against the egg until the egg is defeated, a long battle won only piece by tiny piece. There are no large shards left intact by the time the dark green hatchling stands unhindered. Her tail flicks a clinging fragment away, contemptuous.

Impassioned Ironic Intelligent Green Hatchling
     Oh, she's a lovely creature, quite beyond question. A deep, dark green graces her hide, like summer leaves under a midnight sky, unmarred by any marking or pattern. She is purely that one shade from the tip of her narrow muzzle to the arrow point of her tail, and all across her limbs and the width of wing between. Her body has a certain sweet pudge to it, which may linger beyond these newborn days and add to her adorability, her inherent charm... until she opens her mouth. Such a classically appealing green seems meant to creel plaintively and croon prettily, or give her pet coy peeks over a half-outstretched wing, and she will never, ever do these things. She's far more likely to hiss in distemper, as she's doing now. Or fight with tooth and claw for her food, when she must. She'll chitter and harangue, quarrel and berate, rarely if ever know a moment's peace or give her pet one--but for all of that, the one she chooses will find her a clever if acerbic companion, highly dependable with messages and sensitive to the moods of her beloved one.

Riadur glances up at Eilidh as she speaks his name, hesitating. "A blue," he finally tells her, peering down at the silvery-blue hatchling in his arms. "I... I don't really know what to do with him now," he adds. "Name him, I suppose, but... What will my punishment be?"

Corona glances to the knot on his shoulder, giving a cool nod. "Congratulations on that," murmurs she. To his companions, a nod and a quiet "'lo," or a "Igen's duties," sort of greeting to each of them in turn, though her expression falters slightly; never much for greetings, that girl. "They're lovely little things," she says, giving the newly-impressed ones nearest her a somewhat mystified gaze. "I have been trading, a bit," she replies, cooly again. "Although V'ren seems to be running a bit late." She glances over to the tottering hatchlings, in contemplation, apparently. "All I've got is some cake, and it's not really mind." She pauses, looking over at one. "...Do firelizards eat cake?" Her tiny scoff after suggesting this notion seems to indicate she doesn't think so.

Baleful Burning Beast Egg manages to bury itself deeper in the sand with its spasms, until the grainy stuff nearly coats the bright orange of the shell.

At a rumbling prompt from Tisiath, Lani tosses out another meat scrap, "Uncle T'bay? I rather like the sound of that. You good with little sprouts, T'bay?" But the bronze's impression gets a roll of her eyes and a grin, "There. Another something shiny for him," she jots her chin towards her weyrmate's blue, "...eh?"

Gustive pulls the weed off the line and throws it back at the lake, as if accusing it of a crime. "I used up all my lock on a girl." He tosses his line out one more time before he decides to give up.

Pern Mother Green Hatchling warbles in time with a few twitches of a certain piece of meat being wriggled in her direction, then stops her song suddenly when the wiggler stops wriggling it. Put out, she simply hops up toward the bit, crooning a plead to it. Dance with me again, whatever wonderful-smelling thing you are! A dainty sniff makes her seem to reconsider the object of her affections, however, and she twirls in place, wings dragging like luxuriant sheets in the sand. Oh! You! Okay, you dance with me instead. Now!

Gustive takes out a fish-line and a hook. Baiting up, he casts it a long way out into the water. And waits.

Pern Mother Green Hatchling stumbles towards T'bay.

Tegara sits and sighs, figuring that she's not going to be impressing this time.

Gustive hauls in his line, having caught only a stringy weed.

M'tri doesn't really seem to notice the bronze heading in his direction, which is likely what the bronze is going for. As a matter of fact, he's telling T'bay, calmly, "By sitting, I don't mean you sit down and do nothing. Nor do I mean you get to sit on them. You have to actually watch.... I bet you'd dream for dawn sweeps after an hour. - Wha?" It is as the bronze is trying to scamper away, that meat in his forepaws, that Daikoth snorts a warning. Get it, M'tri! "Oh shards, not another one." A glare is passed to his dragon, accompanied by, "Oh, don't look so smug," as he does catch the bronze, ignoring it's squawking protests as he returns it to his lap and obligingly stuffs food in it's mouth. "You're going to be as bad as Daikoth and Oracle, I can just *see*."

Baleful Burning Beast Egg doesn't waste any further time. It cracks, that's all--splits apart with a final loud protest, and the force the hatchling inside brought against it sends a couple of small fragments flying out of the basket entirely. The little brown who's thus revealed stands unsteadily on his feet. He sways this way, that way, almost ready to fall... but a flick of a wing dislodges the last heavy piece of his shell from him, and that seems enough to let him keep his balance.

Reflective Romantic Rascal Brown Hatchling
     Red has touched this hatchling's hide as surely as it touched the shell of his egg, but there's no brilliance of coloring here. He is instead a dark and altogether handsome chestnut brown, dark now while still damp from birth, but sure to gleam with ruddy glory as soon as he has dried. Don't think for a moment he isn't aware of his own looks, either. He's been further blessed by a long, lean body, which for now has a certain gawkiness to it but will fill out with maturity; so too will clumsiness become grace, and his hatchling desire for attention in general will become an adult desire for the attention of greens and golds specifically. It's as well for him that many of them will find his charms endearing. Despite his appreciation for the fairer sex, however, the person he chooses now will be his only true partner--the one he'll turn to for consoling eyeridge-scritches after each rejection, and the one he'll serve and guard with all his heart.

"She wanted one of them," V'lano protests to Breena, canting her a wry smile. "I just wanted to check in with you." He shrugs, watching for a moment as Eilidh takes food and, in so doing, throws in her lot with the others. He checks up on the greenrider overseeing it all, casting a merry grin Kassima's way; his gaze does, rather a lot, want to slide back to the weyrlingmaster at his side, though.

Stavren shakes his head, pointing to a set of pails. "Raw meat is apparently provided, and Gustive there has been catching fish to use as well. It's worth a try. I don't really feel the need for one right now, I just like watching all the confusion." He lightly pats Riadur on the shoulder, making an effort at masculine-type reassurance. "Look, if you get in some hideous kind of trouble for this, I'll stand up with you. If I hadn't nudged the meat, your blue wouldn't have come over. Don't worry about it." He seems oblivious to the coolness in Corona's voice, or maybe he's just ignoring it. "Another brown. Great color."

Soaring Improbability Egg fairly -hops-, then settles down to just vibrate peacefully along with the lizards' thrum, the sand around it shimmying in response.

Kassima catches Vel's eyes and flashes him a smile; a warm one, if he can see it through the evening's gloom, and if nothing else the flash of moonlight against teeth probably gives her away. "You think you'd be a good baby-sitter, T'bay?" she meanwhile queries. Something about this amuses her deeply, and that colors her voice. "And a'fore I forget--felicitations, Lani, Trii. We'll *definitely* have t'talk later."

M'tri is rather abrupt in his rising - not abrupt enough to jostle anything or startle anyone, hopefully, but rather quickly nonetheless. "Ach..." is all he's willing to say on the matter before he's dropped a kiss on Lani's forehead, plucked up his new (protesting) hatchling, and headed towards the bowl, cursing immediately after his thank-you for both T'bay and Kassi.

Claret unfolds herself from the ground, her awkward movement not quite tipping her into a little pile with a squawking blue in the middle. "Time to go and get inspected by Avrieth," she informs the sleepy blue. "And while you're too full to mind much." With a little wave to any who might notice her going, Claret threads her way around most obstacles and on towards the bowl.

Gustive laughs sardonically at the weed and packs the fishing gear away. Walking back to his spot he sits again, his stomach rumbling. Spotting the egg he had eyed from the start, vibrate, he gives a faint jump, half eaten meatroll in hand.

Impassioned Ironic Intelligent Green Hatchling strides at once for the edge of the basket, not one to dawdle about. Meat! Where is it? She can sense its presence--not that it's hard, really, with so much of it perfuming the air about her, but it's still an impressive trick for something so new to the world. Her long wings drag behind her, wet sails collecting quite a little crust of sand.

T'bay's bit of meat continues to shiver as he laughs, the shaking of his body's release of tension giving it a life of its own. "I'm all right for short periods of time, I'd wager. I'd be happy to give you a moment's peace, if you two'd like it, here or there. Or, er, at least to try. What? No sitting on them. Well, that's no fun. Maybe I could take the sprout on sweeps? That'd be even better. Or I could, hm. help with redecorating, should that be what you've been up to." It is then that he notes the sheet-winged dancer at his fingertips, and he gingerly reaches out his arms to lure the singing and dancing creature closer before allowing the meat to pass through her lips. "Small bites. I don't want a case of thicktail, not even from something the size of a dot when compared to Sarevith, okay, little one?"

Tegara just throws her hands up in the air and gives up. "Not this time," she says with a defeated shrug, and walks away.

Riadur hastily insists to Stavren, "No, really. It's not your fault. Don't get in trouble on my behalf. I, uh, I think I'll creep back to the barracks now, though." Rising, still holding the blue hatchling, he positively flees the scene.

Lyliasha has slipped gradually, gradually, back through the crowds, attracting about as little notice as she did at her arrival. Seems to be the way of this girl. Though she slumps over her tiny hatchling in a protective manner, the apprentice gives a small parting smile to those with whom she spent a few scant moments. And she has disengaged herself none too soon, for once again passes through a by-now familiar journeyman, this time with an eye out for his missing charge. "Coming!" she calls across the way to the searching man, attempting insofar as possible to obscure the small gold in her arms from view. As they move away from the crowd before their conversation has begun, however, none near the firelizards will ever know whether she found trouble or not for her errant ways.

"You could've done that with her standing here," Breena remarks to V'lano, though her attention is still disstracted by Riadur and his new little burden. As the Candidate flees, she glances over Eilidh's way, sighs. "We'll talk to him later." Then visibly working on something that approaches a pleasant smile, she looks back to V'lano. "So...here we are."

Inevitable Oceanic Disaster Egg seems disturbed a bit by all the shimmying and shaking, and just rolls sideways as if to get away from it all - until it smacks head-on into the one vibrating with a soft kee-rack.

What's left sitting around in a bowl is scooped up by Eilidh, and for a moment she looks completely ill-at-ease. A look is tossed over her shoulder, and then around, surreptitious and trying to be sneaky but failing miserably. She's definitely on the look out for a raging mother hosebeast. And when she fails at finding this particular sight, leans forward slowly. The green near T'bay is given a giggle, "Congratulations!"

Lanisa can't help it, she's left snickering softly as Trii has to tend to Daikoth's latest acquisition. "He'll give you plenty to keep your hands full for a bit Trii." She gives him a soft smile as he departs, watching him go, before tossing another bit of meat. Tisiath, on the other hand, has his own idea. That one over there was finding meat, so he shifts around to stare, perhaps hopeful. Who said dragons can't go after what *they* want too? Somewhere he missed something in how it all works, "I'll remember you said that, T'bay." A promise, or a threat? "Sweeps when he or she's old enough, sure. And redecorating, well maybe that too."