Log: Hatching of Corineth and Wynith's Clutch
When: day 26, month 7, Turn 3 of the 10th Interval
Synopsis: Wynith and Corineth's eggs hatch. Paddy Impresses Monkey-in-the-Middle Brown Jekzith. Fellow candidates Tacknick (T'ack) and Severin (S'vin) Impress bronzes Inqueth and Kenleonth.
Rilsa follows after Draila, taking a moment to gaze out at the galleries before taking her place. A warm smile is flashed toward the direction of her lifemate who, in turn, gives her a slight acknowledgement, his attention directed toward Wynith and the eggs.
Draila makes her way onto the sands with an excited smile displayed proudly on her lips as she heads over to Wynith's side and lay a calming hand along the golden neck ridges. "I hope none of the Candidates trip on their way out with their eagerness to join us." She softly murmurs to Rilsa when she's joined.
Ramya walks across the sands in quite a hurray. "Which is rocking?" She asks as she makes her way towards P'ter. "Who is rolling?" She gazes out over the sands, her sparkling eyes darting from egg to egg. Then she grins over towards Rilsa and Draila. "Looks like this is it."
Shadowy Star Stone Egg begins to rock back and forth, before failing quiet again.
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg gives the slightest suggestion of movement.
Dazzling Daredevil Egg rocks back and forth, a sudden burst of energy in the lively looking, but hitherto non-mobile egg. A particularly spasmotic jerk sends it rolling off its carefully prepared egg mound.
S'din steps onto the sands and sketches a supremely formal bow (and somewhat sardonic smile) to those already assembled there. Then he moves to join them as the Candidates begin to arrive.
Rilsa's lips curve into a smile at Ramya's words, giving the Weyrwoman a nod. "Exciting, definately." At Draila's comment, she laughs lightly, "It would be a definite amusing start to this." She falls silent as S'din makes his ever so noticeable roguish arrival.
Draila gasps as she witnesses some eggs beginning to rock and points to the latest one. "That one there Ramya, did you see it?" Her voice even filled with the excitement remains low and hard to hear over the humming of the dragons. When S'din arrives her head inclines lightly in greeting.
Ramya grins at P'ter. "Looks like another cycle coming to an end and a new beginning." She glances over towards where the Candidates are entering. She nods towards S'din as her eyes grow misty but she stands proud as the future of Fort and Pern enter onto the sands.
Once Fort's candidates mill and self-select awkwardly into little clusters, attention always half on the eggs and the dragons who hold court over them. When everyone seems to be present, the group spreads into a jagged curve and, looking left and right for cue, manages a bow of respectful solidarity first tilted toward the golden dam, then the brown sire.
P'ter ahs, "Here they are, and not a moment too soon. Aisheth thought they were going to stand out there talking all day."
Dazzling Daredevil Egg wobbles further away from the rest in a wildly careening path, whether in response to the influx of candidates or some internal directive is unclear. A staccato thumping from inside the egg begins to be audible, tapping out a beat one could almost dance to.
Serese sniffs, overhearing the Weyrleader just enough to catch something about talking. "He makes it sound like we don't work," she notes, nudging into a place between Severin and Tacknick, making herself a twiggy dwarf among the larger men. "I know /I/ do more than sit all day and chatter."
S'din seems to chuckle, though the sounds is lost in the size of the room and the humming. He says something toward Rilsa, a grin on his face before he goes back to studying the Candidates, almost as if trying to guess who will Impress.
As much as he likes harassing and playing mind games with Serese, it's her that Severin gravitates too as soon as the bowing is over and done with. "Hot and nervous." he says, already sweat beading on his forehead as he starts to do Candidate Shuffle of one foot to the other. "Great." he rumbles deeply with a sigh, nervously eying the rocking eggs.
Tacknick smiles down at Serese and says, "I know you do more. And even when you chatter, you still work." But the shaking egg causes his attention to be diverted from the girl to the clutch. His breath catches for a moment, however brief, and he stands watching, waiting, sweating.
Wynith warbles happily to the Candidates, her talons leaving welts in the sand underfoot as she fights to remain where she stands and allow her eggs to hatch into the dragonets she knows will be as handsome as their sire. Draila's hand remains on her hide as silent approval of the Dam.
Shadowy Star Stone Egg suddenly leaches from it's hallow in the sand. This unexpected movement sends the egg rolling until it lands just at the bottom of its former home. There is begins to shake as the prisoner inside tries to brake out.
P'ter makes his way to Ramya's side and with a warm smile he puts his large arm around her shoulders, "Well here we go, blood and guts and Weyrlings."
K'fen trails along after the Candidates and, after a quick look, walks around to stand out of the way, not very far from the Weyrleaders, just where he'll be able to see it all and lend a hand if needed.
Ramya chuckles and adds to P'ter. "I hope not too much guts."
Padraig shifts past a couple of whispering female candidates to a position on Severin's other side, a safe distance so as not to be bowled over by the likely hatchlings soon to come and their much-remarked-upon claws. Past Severin and Serese he notes, for Tacknick's edification, "You have her confused with someone else."
Tacknick smirks a little at Padraig, but doesn't respond. He's too focused on keeping his feet from frying at this point.
Ramya watches the eggs and the candidates on the Sands. She sees K'fen make his way to stand nearby and offers him a smile and a nod.
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg gives a sudden lurch to the side, almost topping over. But the movement is arrested by another equally large jolt that sends it rocking backwards and forwards from the impetus of the hatchling within's struggles.
Rilsa chuckles at the overheard comment from S'din with a nod. She, herself, also shifts on the sands from the heat even though she is wearing good boots. Corineth rumbles at the Candidates, his stance proud.
Severin lets out a flat nervous chuckle, almost cracking his deep voice, when Padraig speaks. As big as the blond candidate is, by the looks of him right now he could be smaller then Serese. Absently he licks at the salty stuff gathered over his upper lip, keeping an eye out for very sharp claws and the dragonets attached to them.
P'ter waves across to Draila and Rilsa, then sees Ramya looking at K'fen and adds a wave in that direction as well. "Well now Keffy, always good to see isn't it."
Padraig's feet are doing the wiggle thing also, though they move within the oversized sandals, toes squirming against suddenly sweaty leather while her small eyes dart about on the shifting, rocking eggs. "No no," she half-heartedly protests. "Tacknick's right, I work hard."
S'din stands solidly upseemingly the only one uneffected by their heat or the passions running rampant today. If anything, he seems amused. But then again, it could all simply be an act. He *is* the WeyrlingMaster after all!
Rilsa lifts a hand to wave back at the Weyrleader, giving him a smile of greeting. She murmurs to Draila about the Candidates before moving to discuss the various outfits of the guests in the galleries.
K'fen takes a few quick steps closer to P'ter and Ramya, his worn out boots apparently a bit thin to ward off the heath. He nearly stumbles as well, his eyes being glued on the loose group of candidates. "Always remind you of good ol' times, eh?" he remarks for the leaders' benefit.
Dazzling Daredevil Egg jigs and jags, dandelion scape of shell bulging but not buckling in response to the assault from within. While strong hardened shell holds for the moment, the movements carry the egg this way and that, catapulting in an erratic trajectory that never leaves the sands but seems to threaten to.
Draila returns P'ter's wave and nods quickly in answer to Rilsa before giggling. "Yes and it's been forever since..." but her voice dips too low to be heard more.
Ramya nods at K'fen, his words hitting a poignant mark within her. "Yes," she says before continuing jokingly, "Their shuffling brings it all back to me."
P'ter says "Always reminds me of when Aisheth maimed that fellow from Bitra at his hatching? You remember that? Tore the muscles from his leg." He smiles, then falters, "No wait, you weren't there then were you. I forget. Long time ago."
Shadowy Star Stone Egg stops shaking as the occupant builds back up its strength. After a few seconds, the egg begins to hop and spin all at the same time spewing sand all around it.
Dazzling Daredevil Egg has downright perfected the shimmy and shake that signals impending explosion of shards, but so far nothing. In fact, it has stilled, sitting with only the faintest of rocking movements. However, this moment is short-lived, perhaps merely a breather for its occupant to build up the energy to lash out of his gaudy-hued prison, talons striking to create asymmetric fissures along the denim corridors lining the dandelion shell. Unable to contain its active inhabitant any longer, Dazzling Daredevil Egg deposits the Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling into the thick of things.
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling
A bit gangly in his youth, this newly hatched young brown's substantial length foreshadows the force of nature he will become. Lean musculature is loose and mobile almost immediately, not for this curious-looking young fellow a hatchling's awkwardness. Bright interest reflects aquamarine in the multi-faceted wide set eyes that are surrounded by a heavily creamed klah mask, the hue especially pale next to the dark cap of loam that tucks around his headknobs, reappearing below as if the tip of his muzzle were likewise interred in the earthy shade. Trailing down his neckridges only to tunnel beneath and behind the sprawl of fanned out wings of luminous maple is a drab swathe of weather-beaten teak. But while said dull coloration dominates his underbelly, it is brought up short at the elbow and knee joints where the bright fawn hue of caramelized sugar coats downward, punctuated by ebon claws. Trailing behind, slender tail snakes out in a mellowed cider that darkens only at the very tip where the spade matches the near-black of talons. Though certainly not handsome in a traditional sense, the lively play of colors splaying out across hatchling hide is eye-catching, a unique if startling combination, as individual a treasure as the young brown on which they are displayed.
K'fen stifles a chuckle at the Weyrleader's confusion. "Was I even -born-?" he mutters mostly under his breath, his attention still divided between the rocking eggs and candidates. Until... "Look!"
Rilsa's gaze flickers towards the moving eggs, her expression somewhat excited but definately proud. At Draila's low murmur, she laughs loudly before clearing her throat as if it wasn't her that broke through the humming sounds. "An excellent omen! A brown. How perfect!" She exclaims. No, definately not biased there.
Tacknick's eyes widen at the hatchling and he ohs, "Wow.... he's nice."
Fortunately Severin is too far away from P'ter to hear the stories of gore, he looks green enough as is. From the sands his eyes quickly dart for but a sweeping gaze over the ledges for a familiar green. However the gasps of some candidates past Tacknick draw his attention back tot he sands as the brown hatches and he swallows hard again. He opens his mouth to perhaps say, something, but nothing comes out.
Draila ohs breaking off her light chat with the brownrider when an egg hatches and the hatching is given a good study. "Such strong bone lines..." Wynith's warbled greeting echoes across the sands drowning out her lifemates voice.
Serese lifts her hands to try to push back stringy bits of hair escaping from her ill-made runnertail, head bowing as she runs long fingers behind her ears to the nape of her neck trying to get things to settle back. When she picks her head up, then there's that hatchling - so to her it seems sudden. "Where'd he come from," she queries no one in particular, even as some of the candidates try to spread out to be less likely targets for VSC.
Ramya looks over towards the brown hatchling and whistles softly. "He's a handsome one."
S'din slowly begins to move, away from the leaders of the Weyr toward the Candidates. He's ready to either welcome a new rider into the ranks or pull a casualty away and only Faranth know which it will be first today.
P'ter grins at Keffy, "As the years go by your cheek increases. Though I warn you, you get to my age and your belly will too if you ar'nt careful, why, just the other .. oh! Lovely hatchling. Nice brown that."
Corineth rumbles a welcome to his offspring, his chest puffing out in pride. The whirling eyes turn momentarily to Wynith before returning to the brown hatchling.
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg gives no sign of slowing down in the erratic bulging and rocking that sends the egg spiralling this way and that where it lies in the sands. If anything, the arrival of one of the dragonets in the sands seems to spur on the hatchling withins attempts to break free of its confines.
Aquatic angels Egg shakes rolling a little ways from the mound. With a loud CRACK it splits down the middle and a little green spills out. She struggles to stand up, waving her oversized wings for balance. After a short rest, she starts to wander around, creeling hungrily. She dodges a boy from Keroon Hold who tries to stand in her path, but loses her balance and rolls to the feet of a young Fortian woman. Pratka helps the dragon up, then calls out, "Her name is Gabrieth!"
Padraig takes a deep breath and shakes a bit of sand out of his shoe with a slight shake of his head, then looks up at the distinct sound of egg cracking. His eyes scan the Sands, and settle where there's movement. There. He sneaks a quick peek up into the Galleries and scans the various ledges before re-focusing his attention on what transpires around him.
S'din swoops down on the first pair and guides the starry-eyed pair safely off the sands.
P'ter says "Ah! A first impression. And a green." He grins widely, "That's more marks for me then."
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling seems to have little trouble getting his hindlimbs under him, lithely twisting to look around with rapid lidding and unlidding of his eyelids in a way that vastly resembles the blinking of a sleepy child coming suddenly away. Although he spies the collection of white robes arrayed for his pleasure, he puts off his inspection of them, instead bowling over in the direction of the clutch sire and dam, pausing before Corineth to straighten as much as he can to try to earn further evidence of his father's pride.
Rilsa applauds the lifemating of Pratka and Gabrieth. "Nice selection. They look good together." Her eyes rove the sands to watch further pairings. She comments to Draila. "S'din is always insufferable when it is a green pairing first. I mean really ... bah."
K'fen polishes his nail on the front of his tunic, broadly grinning at the first pair. "If -that- isn't a good omen, I don't know what is."
Corineth croons at his son, giving him encouragement to go out into the sea of white to find the perfect mate. He is, indeed, quite proud of the lad and seems to be almost bursting to bugle 'I made this' to the viewers.
Draila lightly claps as the first impression is made. "Another dragonet and she's a beauty too. Did I hear her name right? Gabrieth?" Quickly a satisfied smile is seen.
Serese's head turns left, right. "Green? Someone said green?" But the new greenpair is already headed off for the holding room under the guidance of the Weyrlingmaster, so the small-eyed candidate fixes her beady gaze on something else of note, and as a result winds up smirking at Padraig behind Severin's back. "Looking for dragons up there?"
After standing there like a big dumb wall as there is a squeal of glee for Gabrieth's rider and blinking once. Maybe trying to remember if he knows her, and then more flurry of motion out of the corner of his eyes draws his attention back to the sands. "You got family or something in the stands Serese?" Severin says, narrowing his gaze at the willowy female briefly.
Shadowy Star Stone Egg has hopped, has rolled, and has shimmered. This speckled stony egg has done about everything to brake apart and release its captive inside. Then suddenly the egg splits along the top as a dark muzzle pops into view. A small roar of triumph is called out before the rest of the egg falls away to reveal Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling.
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling
Metallic shards of colour gleam defiantly, a mosaic of dappled bronze and darkness that caresses this finely chiseled muzzle. Strong lines are defined by a solid brush of displaced amber, a rare patch of light cast amongst the somber darkness. Orbs of multifaceted wonderment whirl ceaselessly, a myriad of colour, proud eye-ridges of copper marking them visibly. The darkness that peaks atop headknobs falls down now, washing over the distinctly muscled neck, barest shards of liquid amber caught in sight, then lost in a pool of dark. Overly large wings sit out of place on this finely featured creature, his small proportions unbalanced wholly by this addition to his frame, wingsails losing to light and flaring in fiery golden ochroid, wing membranes only retaining a semblance of former darkness in the same dappled pattern. Forelegs and haunches bear the same speckled hide, muscles unmistakably shading the contours of each leg, talons deepening at the base to black, unfathomable in it's depths. His tail is short, in keeping with his lesser size, spherules of bronze halting abruptly at tail-tip and spiraled into the final sparks of sun-kissed gold.
Wynith's amusement over Corineth's croon is followed with a soft warble to remind him she helped. Her long neck curves to watch the young green and her lifemate being led off the sands.
Tacknick ohs softly at the daredevil bronze.
Ramya nods with approval as she muses aloud, "A green. How perfect for Pratka."
Serese leans back forward so she can skate her gaze right up Severin's pale figure, made no less pale by the candidate's shift of white. Look, it's monochrome man! "Not so far, but sooommmebody does," she points out in singsong, then looks back toward the eggs and hatchling - hatchlings, again, now - just to be sure they're not diving claws-first for her.
Weeping willows Egg wiggles gradually becoming more violent. Suddenly a claw punches out, and another one. The dragonet trapped inside tries to stand up, but can't quite pull it off. It falls, and the impact breaks the rest of the shell to reveal a blue with a very loud voice. He shrieks his displeasure at this indignity, not yet ready to explore his new world. He sees his father and he wobbles over to inspect the big brown blob. This big dragon is not what he is looking for and he hurries toward some white things, creeling desperately. He smashes into a boy from the Woodcraft, knocking him on his butt. Boy and dragon stare at each other for long seconds and Impression is made. "His name is Lavanith," the boy yells out.
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg gives no sign of cracking yet, despite the renewed attempts of its occupant. Another frantic series of movements finally send it overbalancing onto its side. Yet even this outcome doesn't detract from the rapid shaking that overtakes the egg.
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling feeds off Corineth's evident approval to puff up about, fanning out those syrupy wings to glisten wet from still undried egg-go. In an attempt to further wow his pop, he musters his voice to squeak out an unevenly pitched bugle. That, unlike his effortless movements, will need a bit of work. Ducking down his head in what could be embarassment, the hatchling pivots and bustles over to the white robes to redeem himself, examining first a runner-tailed laundress from Fort, seemingly infatuated by her scent, though ultimately, he is distracted by a nearby tall grey-eyed lad who earns his eager searching gaze.
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling looks down at his former home and noses the fragment of the eggs away from him. After this bit of housework is done, the bronze finally looks out at the white robe figures ahead of him and then back at his parents behind him. Giving a short warble to Wynith and Corineth, he turns around, ready for the task ahead, the dark bronze flips his still wet wings into his body and takes his confident steps towards finding a suitable companion.
Tacknick watches the brown show an interest in the fortian laundress and then surprised, watches the dragonet stumble towards someone else. "Wow, I thought that was for sure."
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg contorts above the struggle taking place inside, the outer battle depicted upon egg shell nothing to the frantic and insistent movements of the hatchling fighting to emerge. Bulging and quaking until it can no longer provide adequate containment, the egg shudders in audible surrenders as shards flake off with increasing fervor, leading to utter annihilation of the sands-hardened shell. The only thing remaining in its wake is the Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling.
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling
Quite nearly the size of a newly hatched queen, this young bronze emerges, unfurling with a deceptive slowness that belies the obvious strength to his well-built form. Stealth is accomplished by the smooth musculature that rounds out his sizeable presence, contouring him in such a way that no awkwardness of bulk is evident. Perched above the supple arch of basil cravated neck is a face composed of shrewdly intelligent eyes and a tapered muzzle set off by smokey serpentine markings piped out of the corners of his mouth. Olive limning traces shadows over his neckridges, trailing down to cloak wing spars and sails in a thatched tweed-like pattern that overlies a classic unsullied bronze that is nearly golden, the pure heart illuminated from under the oppressive shroud of murkiness. Beneath him lurk the substantial limbs to power his searches, be they for lifemate or ought else that interests him, while the spade that tails at a distance behind him twists this way and that leaving no granule of sand unstirred.
Corineth rumbles back to his bronze son, also very proud of the lad before another bronze one appears. He croons toward Wynith. Rilsa, on the other hand, gives Corineth a suffering look at the bugles and rumbles before she chuckles fondly. She murmurs to Draila. "Have you any idea how much gloating he is going to do after this?"
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling cocks his head to the side in rapt curiousity as he stares at those funny-colored eyes, but then, it isn't /exactly/ what he's looking for. Perhaps that girl next to him? Burnt auburn is such a funny color to go with that skin-tone. The young hatchling waffles on his decision making, repeating this process of examining nearly each and every candidate in turn, his proud bearing beginning to slip as he hasn't yet found his yet.
Tacknick's eyes widen at yet another bronze on the sands. "Strong clutch."
Padraig grins at the byplay between Severin and Serese. "My family's up there ..." he points to a cluster of folks, that includes several children, a red-haired woman and two very brawny riders. "No Healers, Serese?" he questions of his fellow Candidate, then straightens up a bit, hands flexing as another and yet another hatchling make their appearances on the Sands. "Getting busy out there .." he murmurs, eyes roving here and there and suddenly focusing in on that hatchling that's suddenly quite near, careful not to make any sudden moves as each Candidate is closely examined.
Severin looks as if he's about to say something back to Serese, but another round of gasps ensues and his brows furrow deeply in a sliver of frustration. Frowning just a bit he slides his eyes back to the egg popping dragonets. He eyes the brown as he wanders by, ever ready to leap out of the way should he charge. Then, finally, he says to the female at his side. "Big family too." he says, and then looks quickly at the stands. "Don't see mine. No big surprise there." he shrugs.
Serese flicks a narrow look past Severin to Padraig - but now, her gaze is distracted. All those dragons floundering about and here she is surrounded by bulky young men. They'll make good shields, she might be thinking, her beady eyes flicking from dragonets to candidates and back. "Can't tell," she admits. "There's a lot of people up there."
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling's first steps we slow as the bronze gets a feel for his feet, however, the bronze now seems to be on the run as he zips to the end of the ring of candidates. Giving each a brief look over, he never stops his movement as progresses down the white line. However, something else has caught his attention, a green hatchling that has just emerged but seems hesitant to leave her egg. Cocking his head, the shadowy bronze stops his frantic motion and heads slowly back towards the green.
Ramya glances around at the different hatchlings moving about the sands. But her eyes always come back to the brown. "Has he made up him mind yet?" she asks P'ter or anyone who knows. She moves over a little to see if she can get a better view.
P'ter says "I've no better idea than you have dear. If it's made up it's made up, if it's not it's not. Though by the looks of it, he's peering at one of 'em."
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling pauses in front of a tall dark-haired young man. Not unusual, seeing as he's inspected nearly every person candidate or no. He won't be missing out, leaving any shard of shell unturned. But without the slightest hint of reluctance, the young dragonet seems finally content to let the rest of the world slide by, his universal focus on the flurry of activity around him narrowing as he fathoms the depths of strangely stormy blue eyes, staring upwards with a joyous croon at the now former candidate.
Draila's soft giggle returns as she counters with amusement, "Does that mean he'll come visit just to see how they're growing Rilsa? You both will always be welcomed back at Fort any time... Oh another impression..." Wynith so lost in admiring her babies offers croons of encouragement to each to fine the 'one' for them. When the brown does she warbles her delight over his choice.
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling seems to glance at the remnants of the shell surrounding him with a faintly puzzled air. But not for long. The set of his inquisitive muzzle points over towards Corineth and Wynith, acknowledging both dam and sire before moving on restlessly towards the first of the remaining candidates which he investigates with an equally intent expression.
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling reaches the side of the green hatchling and gives her a confident croon. The green looks up at her clutchsibling and returns his croon with a with a soft and shy one of her own. Clearly that won't do for this bronze, as he gives a self-assured but load roar and nudges the green towards the white robe figures. The little green repeats the bronze noise with a more feminine version. Moving side by side, the green moves more confidently toward the candidates. When the green finds her lifemate, the shadowy bronze gives another roar and continues on his task.
Though he might seem otherwise calm, Paddy's eyes keep moving, trying to keep track of everything. "Sure are - I only found 'em 'cos of Mum's hair .." he trails off, suddenly quite focused on something entirely different. A pair of eyes, glued to his and brown hide that one hand reaches for, as shock paints his face with a comical expression. "Jekzith ... uh yeah .. stomachs ... sure!" He suddenly looks up and stares off into the galleries for a brief moment, grinning like an idiot, seeking out a very particular face that is not with his family, before he starts moving off the Sands with his new partner in tow.
S'din smiles and calls out, "Congratulations P'draig and Jekzith!" He guides the pair off the sands and safely away from any interfering claws."
Serese watches the newest green trundle along, shepherded by the hatchling bronze. The whole situation seems prone to make her giggle, though she tries to stifle it - until Impression's made, anyway. Toes still squirming against the sandy heat, Serese is caught off guard by the connection happening right there much closer to her - and then she's half-leaping back to clear the way for Padraig and his new, inhuman friend. "Hey, wow, and! Uh! Goodbye - "
P'ter says "P'draig eh? Sounds like a good name to me. Ah well Ramya, another new one and who knew he would get that particular one."
Severin is startled at first by the Impression of his friend Padraig at his side, blinking once and mouthing a silent congrats. "Um..." is all he can intelligently manage at this point. Brows furrowing again, he nearly jumps out of his skin when that bronze helping the green over there roars not once, but twice. "Fierce little thing isn't he?" he mutters under his breath, suddenly looking paler at the loss of the boy at his side.
Ramya grins. "The brown was for Padraig. Excellent." She goes back to stand by P'ter looking quite pleased as she listens to him speak. "P'draig. Nice on the tongue," she says with a smile.
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling seems to have gotten ahead of himself again. He has somehow charged through the line of candidates in front of him. Stopping just short of running out to the bowl, the bronze blinks a few times and then lets out a slightly confused coon. Turning his head, he gives the boys behind him a long puzzling look, or more one boy in particular, a tall, grayed-eye, blond haired boy. After wait patiently for a few moments, bronze gives a small draconic sigh and marches straight back to his grayed eyed candidate and begins to nudge his chosen impatiently.
Tacknick's eyes widen and he steps a little to the side to smile at the young man that has impressed.
Serese, left blinking at the sudden absence of Padraig, sneaks sidelong closer to Severin until she's practically right up against his pale, large side. She is, for the moment, oblivious to the marching of determined little bronzes.
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling cants his head slightly, looking this one up and down curiously. But no, that one's not the one. He moves a little bit unsteadily on his newly hatched limbs, but with purpose as he passes another candidate with an equally intense searching expression.
Feirce indeed, and suddenly looking at him as he lowers his head and stares down into those faceted eyes. There is a widening of eerie pale grey orbs and then a chocking sound, unaware of Serese's closeness. "Kenleonth?" Severin, now S'vin squeaks, but nods numbly as he reaches out to embrace his dragon and lead him off the sands.
K'fen was scanning the reduced group of candidates and his eyes are quickly attracted back to a tall, blond figure. His lower jaw drops a moment before his face slowly lightens, splitting with a dazzling, almost boyish smile. Apparently not trusting himself to speak, he gives the newly impressed bronzerider a discreet, solemn kind of salute.
S'din smiles and calls out, "Congratulations S'vin and Kenleonth!" He guides the pair off the sands and safely away from any interfering claws."
Ramya raises an eyebrow as she sees S'vin impress. "Oh!" she says. "Now that was a surprise. A pleasant one to be sure." She smiles and nods. "To be sure."
Kenleonth leads out one more roar as his lifemate reaches out to him. However, his eyes are really starting to pick up speed in his hunger.
Serese leaps right back off of Severin's side, staring. "Kenleonth who - oh - " Again her small eyes blink in beady surprise as one of her bodily shields is stolen by a young, hungry dragon. Huffy, she crosses her arms over her narrow chest and looks to Tacknick now, expectant. "Don't you get any bright ideas."
P'ter chuckles at K'fen and gives his Weyrsecond a good natured grin, "See, now I know you didn't have marks on that. Not a bronze, surely not."
Tacknick smiles down at Serese and winks, "You should know I don't have any -bright- ideas by now."
Melancholic Misty Mire Egg has been lying quietly minding its own business. Slowly a series of cracks spread across the shell, and the shards fall away to leave a small peridot green dragonet on the sands. She creels unhappily and hides her head under the biggest remaining shard. NO, I want back IN! The noise and chaos on the Sands penetrate her fog of fear, and galvanize her into awkward movement. Wearing an egg shard she waddles around helplessly, trying to hide behind other eggs and other dragonets. But eggs hatch and dragonets find their own lifemates, leaving her all alone. That is, until a plump girl with an Istan tan speaks gently to her. The scared green hurries in that direction and fairly flings her skinny self at Zanta who calls out the name," Gomanith," in wonder. Impression is made.
Draila's merriment isn't containable as she watches another impression. "How wonderful S'vin.." She murmurs just as Wynith's head swings over her own and she croons to the young bronze when he passes by on his way for his first meal.
S'vin misses all the congrats and unfortunately the salute from a certain greenrider, all too wrapped up in his new companion to look anywhere but him. Gliding on the hot sand like it were ice, he and Kenleonth disappear off to the side with the other candidates, getting another wince for the bronze's roar.
K'fen edges closer to P'ter and, though he doesn't seem to want to look away from his now Impressed weyrmate, he still chuckles nervously. "I'm ready to lose all my marks as long as what I saw actually happened," he dreamily answers.
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling doesn't seem to be in any hurry to impress as first this candidate, and that one, and that one are checked out for clues. Could they be the one. Again, no. But wait that looks like a promising lead as his steps take him close to another young candidate.
P'ter nods, "It happened my friend, it happened."
Rilsa applauds each impression as it occurs. She continues on occasion to murmuer something to Draila.
Serese unfolds her arms so she can settle long fingers over bony hips, making her flowing outsize gown of a candidate's robe even more ill-fitting, if possible, bunched beneath her hands. "I trust you all exactly as far as I can throw you," she remarks, reminiscent of someone else at another time, but grinning full wattage. "But I won't throw you, because, you know, VSC and all."
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling has taken his turn looking high and low around the sands, attempting to ferret out the solution to the puzzle of his lifemate. Surprising many including the mussy auburn haired lass herself, the young bronze hatchling takes a decided turn and makes a straight-line for the former Healer Hall errand runner. Just as he's about to butt the narrowed tip of his muzzle against the girl's chest in attempt to say, "Here I am!", something catches his attention off to the side. With an apologetic croon to the young woman, the Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling stumbles toward a tall dark haired young man, older than many of the other candidates on the sands. There he is. Case solved.
Tacknick smiles at Serese broadly, having grown terribly fond of her in their limited candidacy. But the smile fades for a moment and he stands quietly. He looks over at the beautiful eyes whirling up at him and he ohs softly, "Oh Inqueth... that's -exactly- why I came today." The young man wraps his arms around the neck of the young hatchling, "I can help you with that. The food's this way..."
S'din quickly moves in on the newest pair quickly, safely ushering them from the noise and distraction of the sands and to the quiet and food of the holding room, "Congratulations to T'ack and Inqueth!" he calls out, for the benefit of any who might have missed the initial declaration.
Serese practically jumps up and down. Ignored again! Curse these fascinating hatchlings. "He came today because he wanted to keep us all company," she notes at poor Inqueth, no doubt offering the first lesson in explaining why people are as weird as they are for T'ack to handle.
S'din glances around the now-much-quieter sands and turns to leave the Candidates left behind.
Rilsa applauds the matings. "Very nice selection. They have every right to be proud and pleased." She says to those around her, smiling.
Ramya rocks back on her feet and asks, "What was the name of the hatchling that...T'ack impressed." She looks at P'ter, "Is that how you pronounce his name...T'ack?"
P'ter squeezes Ramya's hand and as the last of the eggs hatch and the last of the impressions are made, he goes to do the less than enjoyable job of consoling those still standing.
P'ter says "T'ack, yes. I think. And taht was ah, Inqueth I think."
Draila takes a quick intake of breath as another impression takes place. "Was that Tacknick, T'ack? How befitting those to are.." She asks Rilsa quietly.
Ramya nods at P'ter. "Your turn or mine to do the duty?" She looks over towards the Candidates left on the sands. "I do hope that most of these Candidates will stay though I know one or two are homesick."
Rilsa nods to Draila, looking at the littered sands. "So anticlimatic now, isn't it?" She says idly.
P'ter motions the remaining candidates over to himself. "Gather around folks, let's get off the sands and then we can have a little chat."
Synopsis: Wynith and Corineth's eggs hatch. Paddy Impresses Monkey-in-the-Middle Brown Jekzith. Fellow candidates Tacknick (T'ack) and Severin (S'vin) Impress bronzes Inqueth and Kenleonth.
Rilsa follows after Draila, taking a moment to gaze out at the galleries before taking her place. A warm smile is flashed toward the direction of her lifemate who, in turn, gives her a slight acknowledgement, his attention directed toward Wynith and the eggs.
Draila makes her way onto the sands with an excited smile displayed proudly on her lips as she heads over to Wynith's side and lay a calming hand along the golden neck ridges. "I hope none of the Candidates trip on their way out with their eagerness to join us." She softly murmurs to Rilsa when she's joined.
Ramya walks across the sands in quite a hurray. "Which is rocking?" She asks as she makes her way towards P'ter. "Who is rolling?" She gazes out over the sands, her sparkling eyes darting from egg to egg. Then she grins over towards Rilsa and Draila. "Looks like this is it."
Shadowy Star Stone Egg begins to rock back and forth, before failing quiet again.
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg gives the slightest suggestion of movement.
Dazzling Daredevil Egg rocks back and forth, a sudden burst of energy in the lively looking, but hitherto non-mobile egg. A particularly spasmotic jerk sends it rolling off its carefully prepared egg mound.
S'din steps onto the sands and sketches a supremely formal bow (and somewhat sardonic smile) to those already assembled there. Then he moves to join them as the Candidates begin to arrive.
Rilsa's lips curve into a smile at Ramya's words, giving the Weyrwoman a nod. "Exciting, definately." At Draila's comment, she laughs lightly, "It would be a definite amusing start to this." She falls silent as S'din makes his ever so noticeable roguish arrival.
Draila gasps as she witnesses some eggs beginning to rock and points to the latest one. "That one there Ramya, did you see it?" Her voice even filled with the excitement remains low and hard to hear over the humming of the dragons. When S'din arrives her head inclines lightly in greeting.
Ramya grins at P'ter. "Looks like another cycle coming to an end and a new beginning." She glances over towards where the Candidates are entering. She nods towards S'din as her eyes grow misty but she stands proud as the future of Fort and Pern enter onto the sands.
Once Fort's candidates mill and self-select awkwardly into little clusters, attention always half on the eggs and the dragons who hold court over them. When everyone seems to be present, the group spreads into a jagged curve and, looking left and right for cue, manages a bow of respectful solidarity first tilted toward the golden dam, then the brown sire.
P'ter ahs, "Here they are, and not a moment too soon. Aisheth thought they were going to stand out there talking all day."
Dazzling Daredevil Egg wobbles further away from the rest in a wildly careening path, whether in response to the influx of candidates or some internal directive is unclear. A staccato thumping from inside the egg begins to be audible, tapping out a beat one could almost dance to.
Serese sniffs, overhearing the Weyrleader just enough to catch something about talking. "He makes it sound like we don't work," she notes, nudging into a place between Severin and Tacknick, making herself a twiggy dwarf among the larger men. "I know /I/ do more than sit all day and chatter."
S'din seems to chuckle, though the sounds is lost in the size of the room and the humming. He says something toward Rilsa, a grin on his face before he goes back to studying the Candidates, almost as if trying to guess who will Impress.
As much as he likes harassing and playing mind games with Serese, it's her that Severin gravitates too as soon as the bowing is over and done with. "Hot and nervous." he says, already sweat beading on his forehead as he starts to do Candidate Shuffle of one foot to the other. "Great." he rumbles deeply with a sigh, nervously eying the rocking eggs.
Tacknick smiles down at Serese and says, "I know you do more. And even when you chatter, you still work." But the shaking egg causes his attention to be diverted from the girl to the clutch. His breath catches for a moment, however brief, and he stands watching, waiting, sweating.
Wynith warbles happily to the Candidates, her talons leaving welts in the sand underfoot as she fights to remain where she stands and allow her eggs to hatch into the dragonets she knows will be as handsome as their sire. Draila's hand remains on her hide as silent approval of the Dam.
Shadowy Star Stone Egg suddenly leaches from it's hallow in the sand. This unexpected movement sends the egg rolling until it lands just at the bottom of its former home. There is begins to shake as the prisoner inside tries to brake out.
P'ter makes his way to Ramya's side and with a warm smile he puts his large arm around her shoulders, "Well here we go, blood and guts and Weyrlings."
K'fen trails along after the Candidates and, after a quick look, walks around to stand out of the way, not very far from the Weyrleaders, just where he'll be able to see it all and lend a hand if needed.
Ramya chuckles and adds to P'ter. "I hope not too much guts."
Padraig shifts past a couple of whispering female candidates to a position on Severin's other side, a safe distance so as not to be bowled over by the likely hatchlings soon to come and their much-remarked-upon claws. Past Severin and Serese he notes, for Tacknick's edification, "You have her confused with someone else."
Tacknick smirks a little at Padraig, but doesn't respond. He's too focused on keeping his feet from frying at this point.
Ramya watches the eggs and the candidates on the Sands. She sees K'fen make his way to stand nearby and offers him a smile and a nod.
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg gives a sudden lurch to the side, almost topping over. But the movement is arrested by another equally large jolt that sends it rocking backwards and forwards from the impetus of the hatchling within's struggles.
Rilsa chuckles at the overheard comment from S'din with a nod. She, herself, also shifts on the sands from the heat even though she is wearing good boots. Corineth rumbles at the Candidates, his stance proud.
Severin lets out a flat nervous chuckle, almost cracking his deep voice, when Padraig speaks. As big as the blond candidate is, by the looks of him right now he could be smaller then Serese. Absently he licks at the salty stuff gathered over his upper lip, keeping an eye out for very sharp claws and the dragonets attached to them.
P'ter waves across to Draila and Rilsa, then sees Ramya looking at K'fen and adds a wave in that direction as well. "Well now Keffy, always good to see isn't it."
Padraig's feet are doing the wiggle thing also, though they move within the oversized sandals, toes squirming against suddenly sweaty leather while her small eyes dart about on the shifting, rocking eggs. "No no," she half-heartedly protests. "Tacknick's right, I work hard."
S'din stands solidly upseemingly the only one uneffected by their heat or the passions running rampant today. If anything, he seems amused. But then again, it could all simply be an act. He *is* the WeyrlingMaster after all!
Rilsa lifts a hand to wave back at the Weyrleader, giving him a smile of greeting. She murmurs to Draila about the Candidates before moving to discuss the various outfits of the guests in the galleries.
K'fen takes a few quick steps closer to P'ter and Ramya, his worn out boots apparently a bit thin to ward off the heath. He nearly stumbles as well, his eyes being glued on the loose group of candidates. "Always remind you of good ol' times, eh?" he remarks for the leaders' benefit.
Dazzling Daredevil Egg jigs and jags, dandelion scape of shell bulging but not buckling in response to the assault from within. While strong hardened shell holds for the moment, the movements carry the egg this way and that, catapulting in an erratic trajectory that never leaves the sands but seems to threaten to.
Draila returns P'ter's wave and nods quickly in answer to Rilsa before giggling. "Yes and it's been forever since..." but her voice dips too low to be heard more.
Ramya nods at K'fen, his words hitting a poignant mark within her. "Yes," she says before continuing jokingly, "Their shuffling brings it all back to me."
P'ter says "Always reminds me of when Aisheth maimed that fellow from Bitra at his hatching? You remember that? Tore the muscles from his leg." He smiles, then falters, "No wait, you weren't there then were you. I forget. Long time ago."
Shadowy Star Stone Egg stops shaking as the occupant builds back up its strength. After a few seconds, the egg begins to hop and spin all at the same time spewing sand all around it.
Dazzling Daredevil Egg has downright perfected the shimmy and shake that signals impending explosion of shards, but so far nothing. In fact, it has stilled, sitting with only the faintest of rocking movements. However, this moment is short-lived, perhaps merely a breather for its occupant to build up the energy to lash out of his gaudy-hued prison, talons striking to create asymmetric fissures along the denim corridors lining the dandelion shell. Unable to contain its active inhabitant any longer, Dazzling Daredevil Egg deposits the Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling into the thick of things.
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling
A bit gangly in his youth, this newly hatched young brown's substantial length foreshadows the force of nature he will become. Lean musculature is loose and mobile almost immediately, not for this curious-looking young fellow a hatchling's awkwardness. Bright interest reflects aquamarine in the multi-faceted wide set eyes that are surrounded by a heavily creamed klah mask, the hue especially pale next to the dark cap of loam that tucks around his headknobs, reappearing below as if the tip of his muzzle were likewise interred in the earthy shade. Trailing down his neckridges only to tunnel beneath and behind the sprawl of fanned out wings of luminous maple is a drab swathe of weather-beaten teak. But while said dull coloration dominates his underbelly, it is brought up short at the elbow and knee joints where the bright fawn hue of caramelized sugar coats downward, punctuated by ebon claws. Trailing behind, slender tail snakes out in a mellowed cider that darkens only at the very tip where the spade matches the near-black of talons. Though certainly not handsome in a traditional sense, the lively play of colors splaying out across hatchling hide is eye-catching, a unique if startling combination, as individual a treasure as the young brown on which they are displayed.
K'fen stifles a chuckle at the Weyrleader's confusion. "Was I even -born-?" he mutters mostly under his breath, his attention still divided between the rocking eggs and candidates. Until... "Look!"
Rilsa's gaze flickers towards the moving eggs, her expression somewhat excited but definately proud. At Draila's low murmur, she laughs loudly before clearing her throat as if it wasn't her that broke through the humming sounds. "An excellent omen! A brown. How perfect!" She exclaims. No, definately not biased there.
Tacknick's eyes widen at the hatchling and he ohs, "Wow.... he's nice."
Fortunately Severin is too far away from P'ter to hear the stories of gore, he looks green enough as is. From the sands his eyes quickly dart for but a sweeping gaze over the ledges for a familiar green. However the gasps of some candidates past Tacknick draw his attention back tot he sands as the brown hatches and he swallows hard again. He opens his mouth to perhaps say, something, but nothing comes out.
Draila ohs breaking off her light chat with the brownrider when an egg hatches and the hatching is given a good study. "Such strong bone lines..." Wynith's warbled greeting echoes across the sands drowning out her lifemates voice.
Serese lifts her hands to try to push back stringy bits of hair escaping from her ill-made runnertail, head bowing as she runs long fingers behind her ears to the nape of her neck trying to get things to settle back. When she picks her head up, then there's that hatchling - so to her it seems sudden. "Where'd he come from," she queries no one in particular, even as some of the candidates try to spread out to be less likely targets for VSC.
Ramya looks over towards the brown hatchling and whistles softly. "He's a handsome one."
S'din slowly begins to move, away from the leaders of the Weyr toward the Candidates. He's ready to either welcome a new rider into the ranks or pull a casualty away and only Faranth know which it will be first today.
P'ter grins at Keffy, "As the years go by your cheek increases. Though I warn you, you get to my age and your belly will too if you ar'nt careful, why, just the other .. oh! Lovely hatchling. Nice brown that."
Corineth rumbles a welcome to his offspring, his chest puffing out in pride. The whirling eyes turn momentarily to Wynith before returning to the brown hatchling.
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg gives no sign of slowing down in the erratic bulging and rocking that sends the egg spiralling this way and that where it lies in the sands. If anything, the arrival of one of the dragonets in the sands seems to spur on the hatchling withins attempts to break free of its confines.
Aquatic angels Egg shakes rolling a little ways from the mound. With a loud CRACK it splits down the middle and a little green spills out. She struggles to stand up, waving her oversized wings for balance. After a short rest, she starts to wander around, creeling hungrily. She dodges a boy from Keroon Hold who tries to stand in her path, but loses her balance and rolls to the feet of a young Fortian woman. Pratka helps the dragon up, then calls out, "Her name is Gabrieth!"
Padraig takes a deep breath and shakes a bit of sand out of his shoe with a slight shake of his head, then looks up at the distinct sound of egg cracking. His eyes scan the Sands, and settle where there's movement. There. He sneaks a quick peek up into the Galleries and scans the various ledges before re-focusing his attention on what transpires around him.
S'din swoops down on the first pair and guides the starry-eyed pair safely off the sands.
P'ter says "Ah! A first impression. And a green." He grins widely, "That's more marks for me then."
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling seems to have little trouble getting his hindlimbs under him, lithely twisting to look around with rapid lidding and unlidding of his eyelids in a way that vastly resembles the blinking of a sleepy child coming suddenly away. Although he spies the collection of white robes arrayed for his pleasure, he puts off his inspection of them, instead bowling over in the direction of the clutch sire and dam, pausing before Corineth to straighten as much as he can to try to earn further evidence of his father's pride.
Rilsa applauds the lifemating of Pratka and Gabrieth. "Nice selection. They look good together." Her eyes rove the sands to watch further pairings. She comments to Draila. "S'din is always insufferable when it is a green pairing first. I mean really ... bah."
K'fen polishes his nail on the front of his tunic, broadly grinning at the first pair. "If -that- isn't a good omen, I don't know what is."
Corineth croons at his son, giving him encouragement to go out into the sea of white to find the perfect mate. He is, indeed, quite proud of the lad and seems to be almost bursting to bugle 'I made this' to the viewers.
Draila lightly claps as the first impression is made. "Another dragonet and she's a beauty too. Did I hear her name right? Gabrieth?" Quickly a satisfied smile is seen.
Serese's head turns left, right. "Green? Someone said green?" But the new greenpair is already headed off for the holding room under the guidance of the Weyrlingmaster, so the small-eyed candidate fixes her beady gaze on something else of note, and as a result winds up smirking at Padraig behind Severin's back. "Looking for dragons up there?"
After standing there like a big dumb wall as there is a squeal of glee for Gabrieth's rider and blinking once. Maybe trying to remember if he knows her, and then more flurry of motion out of the corner of his eyes draws his attention back to the sands. "You got family or something in the stands Serese?" Severin says, narrowing his gaze at the willowy female briefly.
Shadowy Star Stone Egg has hopped, has rolled, and has shimmered. This speckled stony egg has done about everything to brake apart and release its captive inside. Then suddenly the egg splits along the top as a dark muzzle pops into view. A small roar of triumph is called out before the rest of the egg falls away to reveal Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling.
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling
Metallic shards of colour gleam defiantly, a mosaic of dappled bronze and darkness that caresses this finely chiseled muzzle. Strong lines are defined by a solid brush of displaced amber, a rare patch of light cast amongst the somber darkness. Orbs of multifaceted wonderment whirl ceaselessly, a myriad of colour, proud eye-ridges of copper marking them visibly. The darkness that peaks atop headknobs falls down now, washing over the distinctly muscled neck, barest shards of liquid amber caught in sight, then lost in a pool of dark. Overly large wings sit out of place on this finely featured creature, his small proportions unbalanced wholly by this addition to his frame, wingsails losing to light and flaring in fiery golden ochroid, wing membranes only retaining a semblance of former darkness in the same dappled pattern. Forelegs and haunches bear the same speckled hide, muscles unmistakably shading the contours of each leg, talons deepening at the base to black, unfathomable in it's depths. His tail is short, in keeping with his lesser size, spherules of bronze halting abruptly at tail-tip and spiraled into the final sparks of sun-kissed gold.
Wynith's amusement over Corineth's croon is followed with a soft warble to remind him she helped. Her long neck curves to watch the young green and her lifemate being led off the sands.
Tacknick ohs softly at the daredevil bronze.
Ramya nods with approval as she muses aloud, "A green. How perfect for Pratka."
Serese leans back forward so she can skate her gaze right up Severin's pale figure, made no less pale by the candidate's shift of white. Look, it's monochrome man! "Not so far, but sooommmebody does," she points out in singsong, then looks back toward the eggs and hatchling - hatchlings, again, now - just to be sure they're not diving claws-first for her.
Weeping willows Egg wiggles gradually becoming more violent. Suddenly a claw punches out, and another one. The dragonet trapped inside tries to stand up, but can't quite pull it off. It falls, and the impact breaks the rest of the shell to reveal a blue with a very loud voice. He shrieks his displeasure at this indignity, not yet ready to explore his new world. He sees his father and he wobbles over to inspect the big brown blob. This big dragon is not what he is looking for and he hurries toward some white things, creeling desperately. He smashes into a boy from the Woodcraft, knocking him on his butt. Boy and dragon stare at each other for long seconds and Impression is made. "His name is Lavanith," the boy yells out.
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg gives no sign of cracking yet, despite the renewed attempts of its occupant. Another frantic series of movements finally send it overbalancing onto its side. Yet even this outcome doesn't detract from the rapid shaking that overtakes the egg.
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling feeds off Corineth's evident approval to puff up about, fanning out those syrupy wings to glisten wet from still undried egg-go. In an attempt to further wow his pop, he musters his voice to squeak out an unevenly pitched bugle. That, unlike his effortless movements, will need a bit of work. Ducking down his head in what could be embarassment, the hatchling pivots and bustles over to the white robes to redeem himself, examining first a runner-tailed laundress from Fort, seemingly infatuated by her scent, though ultimately, he is distracted by a nearby tall grey-eyed lad who earns his eager searching gaze.
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling looks down at his former home and noses the fragment of the eggs away from him. After this bit of housework is done, the bronze finally looks out at the white robe figures ahead of him and then back at his parents behind him. Giving a short warble to Wynith and Corineth, he turns around, ready for the task ahead, the dark bronze flips his still wet wings into his body and takes his confident steps towards finding a suitable companion.
Tacknick watches the brown show an interest in the fortian laundress and then surprised, watches the dragonet stumble towards someone else. "Wow, I thought that was for sure."
Tumultuous Tug-of-War Egg contorts above the struggle taking place inside, the outer battle depicted upon egg shell nothing to the frantic and insistent movements of the hatchling fighting to emerge. Bulging and quaking until it can no longer provide adequate containment, the egg shudders in audible surrenders as shards flake off with increasing fervor, leading to utter annihilation of the sands-hardened shell. The only thing remaining in its wake is the Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling.
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling
Quite nearly the size of a newly hatched queen, this young bronze emerges, unfurling with a deceptive slowness that belies the obvious strength to his well-built form. Stealth is accomplished by the smooth musculature that rounds out his sizeable presence, contouring him in such a way that no awkwardness of bulk is evident. Perched above the supple arch of basil cravated neck is a face composed of shrewdly intelligent eyes and a tapered muzzle set off by smokey serpentine markings piped out of the corners of his mouth. Olive limning traces shadows over his neckridges, trailing down to cloak wing spars and sails in a thatched tweed-like pattern that overlies a classic unsullied bronze that is nearly golden, the pure heart illuminated from under the oppressive shroud of murkiness. Beneath him lurk the substantial limbs to power his searches, be they for lifemate or ought else that interests him, while the spade that tails at a distance behind him twists this way and that leaving no granule of sand unstirred.
Corineth rumbles back to his bronze son, also very proud of the lad before another bronze one appears. He croons toward Wynith. Rilsa, on the other hand, gives Corineth a suffering look at the bugles and rumbles before she chuckles fondly. She murmurs to Draila. "Have you any idea how much gloating he is going to do after this?"
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling cocks his head to the side in rapt curiousity as he stares at those funny-colored eyes, but then, it isn't /exactly/ what he's looking for. Perhaps that girl next to him? Burnt auburn is such a funny color to go with that skin-tone. The young hatchling waffles on his decision making, repeating this process of examining nearly each and every candidate in turn, his proud bearing beginning to slip as he hasn't yet found his yet.
Tacknick's eyes widen at yet another bronze on the sands. "Strong clutch."
Padraig grins at the byplay between Severin and Serese. "My family's up there ..." he points to a cluster of folks, that includes several children, a red-haired woman and two very brawny riders. "No Healers, Serese?" he questions of his fellow Candidate, then straightens up a bit, hands flexing as another and yet another hatchling make their appearances on the Sands. "Getting busy out there .." he murmurs, eyes roving here and there and suddenly focusing in on that hatchling that's suddenly quite near, careful not to make any sudden moves as each Candidate is closely examined.
Severin looks as if he's about to say something back to Serese, but another round of gasps ensues and his brows furrow deeply in a sliver of frustration. Frowning just a bit he slides his eyes back to the egg popping dragonets. He eyes the brown as he wanders by, ever ready to leap out of the way should he charge. Then, finally, he says to the female at his side. "Big family too." he says, and then looks quickly at the stands. "Don't see mine. No big surprise there." he shrugs.
Serese flicks a narrow look past Severin to Padraig - but now, her gaze is distracted. All those dragons floundering about and here she is surrounded by bulky young men. They'll make good shields, she might be thinking, her beady eyes flicking from dragonets to candidates and back. "Can't tell," she admits. "There's a lot of people up there."
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling's first steps we slow as the bronze gets a feel for his feet, however, the bronze now seems to be on the run as he zips to the end of the ring of candidates. Giving each a brief look over, he never stops his movement as progresses down the white line. However, something else has caught his attention, a green hatchling that has just emerged but seems hesitant to leave her egg. Cocking his head, the shadowy bronze stops his frantic motion and heads slowly back towards the green.
Ramya glances around at the different hatchlings moving about the sands. But her eyes always come back to the brown. "Has he made up him mind yet?" she asks P'ter or anyone who knows. She moves over a little to see if she can get a better view.
P'ter says "I've no better idea than you have dear. If it's made up it's made up, if it's not it's not. Though by the looks of it, he's peering at one of 'em."
Monkey in the Middle Brown Hatchling pauses in front of a tall dark-haired young man. Not unusual, seeing as he's inspected nearly every person candidate or no. He won't be missing out, leaving any shard of shell unturned. But without the slightest hint of reluctance, the young dragonet seems finally content to let the rest of the world slide by, his universal focus on the flurry of activity around him narrowing as he fathoms the depths of strangely stormy blue eyes, staring upwards with a joyous croon at the now former candidate.
Draila's soft giggle returns as she counters with amusement, "Does that mean he'll come visit just to see how they're growing Rilsa? You both will always be welcomed back at Fort any time... Oh another impression..." Wynith so lost in admiring her babies offers croons of encouragement to each to fine the 'one' for them. When the brown does she warbles her delight over his choice.
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling seems to glance at the remnants of the shell surrounding him with a faintly puzzled air. But not for long. The set of his inquisitive muzzle points over towards Corineth and Wynith, acknowledging both dam and sire before moving on restlessly towards the first of the remaining candidates which he investigates with an equally intent expression.
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling reaches the side of the green hatchling and gives her a confident croon. The green looks up at her clutchsibling and returns his croon with a with a soft and shy one of her own. Clearly that won't do for this bronze, as he gives a self-assured but load roar and nudges the green towards the white robe figures. The little green repeats the bronze noise with a more feminine version. Moving side by side, the green moves more confidently toward the candidates. When the green finds her lifemate, the shadowy bronze gives another roar and continues on his task.
Though he might seem otherwise calm, Paddy's eyes keep moving, trying to keep track of everything. "Sure are - I only found 'em 'cos of Mum's hair .." he trails off, suddenly quite focused on something entirely different. A pair of eyes, glued to his and brown hide that one hand reaches for, as shock paints his face with a comical expression. "Jekzith ... uh yeah .. stomachs ... sure!" He suddenly looks up and stares off into the galleries for a brief moment, grinning like an idiot, seeking out a very particular face that is not with his family, before he starts moving off the Sands with his new partner in tow.
S'din smiles and calls out, "Congratulations P'draig and Jekzith!" He guides the pair off the sands and safely away from any interfering claws."
Serese watches the newest green trundle along, shepherded by the hatchling bronze. The whole situation seems prone to make her giggle, though she tries to stifle it - until Impression's made, anyway. Toes still squirming against the sandy heat, Serese is caught off guard by the connection happening right there much closer to her - and then she's half-leaping back to clear the way for Padraig and his new, inhuman friend. "Hey, wow, and! Uh! Goodbye - "
P'ter says "P'draig eh? Sounds like a good name to me. Ah well Ramya, another new one and who knew he would get that particular one."
Severin is startled at first by the Impression of his friend Padraig at his side, blinking once and mouthing a silent congrats. "Um..." is all he can intelligently manage at this point. Brows furrowing again, he nearly jumps out of his skin when that bronze helping the green over there roars not once, but twice. "Fierce little thing isn't he?" he mutters under his breath, suddenly looking paler at the loss of the boy at his side.
Ramya grins. "The brown was for Padraig. Excellent." She goes back to stand by P'ter looking quite pleased as she listens to him speak. "P'draig. Nice on the tongue," she says with a smile.
Dashing Daredevil Bronze Hatchling seems to have gotten ahead of himself again. He has somehow charged through the line of candidates in front of him. Stopping just short of running out to the bowl, the bronze blinks a few times and then lets out a slightly confused coon. Turning his head, he gives the boys behind him a long puzzling look, or more one boy in particular, a tall, grayed-eye, blond haired boy. After wait patiently for a few moments, bronze gives a small draconic sigh and marches straight back to his grayed eyed candidate and begins to nudge his chosen impatiently.
Tacknick's eyes widen and he steps a little to the side to smile at the young man that has impressed.
Serese, left blinking at the sudden absence of Padraig, sneaks sidelong closer to Severin until she's practically right up against his pale, large side. She is, for the moment, oblivious to the marching of determined little bronzes.
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling cants his head slightly, looking this one up and down curiously. But no, that one's not the one. He moves a little bit unsteadily on his newly hatched limbs, but with purpose as he passes another candidate with an equally intense searching expression.
Feirce indeed, and suddenly looking at him as he lowers his head and stares down into those faceted eyes. There is a widening of eerie pale grey orbs and then a chocking sound, unaware of Serese's closeness. "Kenleonth?" Severin, now S'vin squeaks, but nods numbly as he reaches out to embrace his dragon and lead him off the sands.
K'fen was scanning the reduced group of candidates and his eyes are quickly attracted back to a tall, blond figure. His lower jaw drops a moment before his face slowly lightens, splitting with a dazzling, almost boyish smile. Apparently not trusting himself to speak, he gives the newly impressed bronzerider a discreet, solemn kind of salute.
S'din smiles and calls out, "Congratulations S'vin and Kenleonth!" He guides the pair off the sands and safely away from any interfering claws."
Ramya raises an eyebrow as she sees S'vin impress. "Oh!" she says. "Now that was a surprise. A pleasant one to be sure." She smiles and nods. "To be sure."
Kenleonth leads out one more roar as his lifemate reaches out to him. However, his eyes are really starting to pick up speed in his hunger.
Serese leaps right back off of Severin's side, staring. "Kenleonth who - oh - " Again her small eyes blink in beady surprise as one of her bodily shields is stolen by a young, hungry dragon. Huffy, she crosses her arms over her narrow chest and looks to Tacknick now, expectant. "Don't you get any bright ideas."
P'ter chuckles at K'fen and gives his Weyrsecond a good natured grin, "See, now I know you didn't have marks on that. Not a bronze, surely not."
Tacknick smiles down at Serese and winks, "You should know I don't have any -bright- ideas by now."
Melancholic Misty Mire Egg has been lying quietly minding its own business. Slowly a series of cracks spread across the shell, and the shards fall away to leave a small peridot green dragonet on the sands. She creels unhappily and hides her head under the biggest remaining shard. NO, I want back IN! The noise and chaos on the Sands penetrate her fog of fear, and galvanize her into awkward movement. Wearing an egg shard she waddles around helplessly, trying to hide behind other eggs and other dragonets. But eggs hatch and dragonets find their own lifemates, leaving her all alone. That is, until a plump girl with an Istan tan speaks gently to her. The scared green hurries in that direction and fairly flings her skinny self at Zanta who calls out the name," Gomanith," in wonder. Impression is made.
Draila's merriment isn't containable as she watches another impression. "How wonderful S'vin.." She murmurs just as Wynith's head swings over her own and she croons to the young bronze when he passes by on his way for his first meal.
S'vin misses all the congrats and unfortunately the salute from a certain greenrider, all too wrapped up in his new companion to look anywhere but him. Gliding on the hot sand like it were ice, he and Kenleonth disappear off to the side with the other candidates, getting another wince for the bronze's roar.
K'fen edges closer to P'ter and, though he doesn't seem to want to look away from his now Impressed weyrmate, he still chuckles nervously. "I'm ready to lose all my marks as long as what I saw actually happened," he dreamily answers.
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling doesn't seem to be in any hurry to impress as first this candidate, and that one, and that one are checked out for clues. Could they be the one. Again, no. But wait that looks like a promising lead as his steps take him close to another young candidate.
P'ter nods, "It happened my friend, it happened."
Rilsa applauds each impression as it occurs. She continues on occasion to murmuer something to Draila.
Serese unfolds her arms so she can settle long fingers over bony hips, making her flowing outsize gown of a candidate's robe even more ill-fitting, if possible, bunched beneath her hands. "I trust you all exactly as far as I can throw you," she remarks, reminiscent of someone else at another time, but grinning full wattage. "But I won't throw you, because, you know, VSC and all."
Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling has taken his turn looking high and low around the sands, attempting to ferret out the solution to the puzzle of his lifemate. Surprising many including the mussy auburn haired lass herself, the young bronze hatchling takes a decided turn and makes a straight-line for the former Healer Hall errand runner. Just as he's about to butt the narrowed tip of his muzzle against the girl's chest in attempt to say, "Here I am!", something catches his attention off to the side. With an apologetic croon to the young woman, the Clueless Master Detective Bronze Hatchling stumbles toward a tall dark haired young man, older than many of the other candidates on the sands. There he is. Case solved.
Tacknick smiles at Serese broadly, having grown terribly fond of her in their limited candidacy. But the smile fades for a moment and he stands quietly. He looks over at the beautiful eyes whirling up at him and he ohs softly, "Oh Inqueth... that's -exactly- why I came today." The young man wraps his arms around the neck of the young hatchling, "I can help you with that. The food's this way..."
S'din quickly moves in on the newest pair quickly, safely ushering them from the noise and distraction of the sands and to the quiet and food of the holding room, "Congratulations to T'ack and Inqueth!" he calls out, for the benefit of any who might have missed the initial declaration.
Serese practically jumps up and down. Ignored again! Curse these fascinating hatchlings. "He came today because he wanted to keep us all company," she notes at poor Inqueth, no doubt offering the first lesson in explaining why people are as weird as they are for T'ack to handle.
S'din glances around the now-much-quieter sands and turns to leave the Candidates left behind.
Rilsa applauds the matings. "Very nice selection. They have every right to be proud and pleased." She says to those around her, smiling.
Ramya rocks back on her feet and asks, "What was the name of the hatchling that...T'ack impressed." She looks at P'ter, "Is that how you pronounce his name...T'ack?"
P'ter squeezes Ramya's hand and as the last of the eggs hatch and the last of the impressions are made, he goes to do the less than enjoyable job of consoling those still standing.
P'ter says "T'ack, yes. I think. And taht was ah, Inqueth I think."
Draila takes a quick intake of breath as another impression takes place. "Was that Tacknick, T'ack? How befitting those to are.." She asks Rilsa quietly.
Ramya nods at P'ter. "Your turn or mine to do the duty?" She looks over towards the Candidates left on the sands. "I do hope that most of these Candidates will stay though I know one or two are homesick."
Rilsa nods to Draila, looking at the littered sands. "So anticlimatic now, isn't it?" She says idly.
P'ter motions the remaining candidates over to himself. "Gather around folks, let's get off the sands and then we can have a little chat."