In which dust and debris are calmed by spectators with water, and eggs arrive

[noleepackrat]

Nalaieth and Vildaeth's clutching Log, 4-30-06

Part 1

includes galleries and sands, Nolee, C'len, Nalaieth, Vildaeth, V'lano, Griere, Caitlyn, Jazra, Moyra, Sarisia, Suraiya, O'lin, Rilayen, Airalyn, Maduk, et al.

Hatching Cavern
You stand at the entrance to the Hatching Grounds. Before you the cavern spreads out to the north and east. It is enormous to say the least, and the gentle breeze blowing in through the entrance behind you, to the southwest accentuates its size. Spreading around the back side of the grounds itself are the Galleries, where guests can sit and watch the action and quietly cheer candidates on. Below that is the black sand itself, where the candidates stand.

Twin arches lead out into the expanse of the bowl. Ledges overhead provide space for winged creatures, and a set of stone seats begin nearby.

Ista LC> The heat has been lacking something recently, something that's usually in the air buoying the warmth: humidity. It's dry, much more so than normal, without even a drop of water in the air despite Ista's proximity to the ocean.

Nalaieth> Vildaeth senses that Nalaieth reaches outward across a dusty haze, seeking and touching lightly the familiarity beyond. << Ours will come soon. >> Triumphant, reassuring, commanding.

Dragon> Nalaieth senses that Vildaeth's caught up in the cool inside his weyr, attempting to avoid venturing out into the sun. --but, it seems, he'll be called to, soon, and more heat to endure, but a bubbling of joy beneath to protect from overheating.

----

The sands of the hatching caverns are stirred by the parching winds that blow through Ista on this hot, dry day. An occasional leaf or small furl from a palm frond can be seen blowing through the tunnels that bring the curious into the hatching caverns, word having spread that Nalaieth's been spotted on the black sands. Tables bearing a fine coating of dust line the edge of the galleries, stocked with protective kerchiefs and shielded water pitchers at the ready.

Hurried steps mark Nolee's arrival on the sands, following quickly after a tawny golden mass that settles herself into the cavern and onto the sands with a swishing of her tail. "I'm trying to get some sunbathing done," coughs Nolee, pulling her flimsy scarf to better protect her mouth from the dust. "Not to mention that hidework falling off my desk. Do you have to do this now?"

In the galleries, Airalyn moves into the cavern with a curious expression on her face as she picks her way through the many benches. Finding a place somewhere in the middle, the dusty blue eyed woman pulls out new best friend, a flask.

In the galleries, Jazra goes stomping in, bow unstrung along the way, quiver askew on her back, panting as she had followed the path of her brother and his blue. But while big brother goes to sit with his wingmates Jazz makes her way to the front tier center and, still without a smile but still with a curious expression, sets down her archery gear and ignores the water, keeping a curious eye on the sands. As she coils her bowstring and shoves it into her pocket she moves the bow so that its under the seat behind her and her quiver is leaning against her leg.

In the galleries, Caitlyn perceived the sudden ruckus about the Weyr - and though the smith was already busy with stringing lengths of hand-woven chain together, she quickly gathered up her work into her pouch, and set off at a jog. The flurry of life on the move inevitably drew her to the Hatching galleries, and a seat in them - one able to get a good view of everything. The woman currently grins with an excess of excitement and pleasure, eyes taking in the arrivals, as well as Nalaieth's tawny form. One hand absently lifts a filmy scarf over her nose as a large sneeze rocks her form.

In the galleries, Rilayen has snatched himself a kerchief on the way up to the seating, and is in the process of tying it at the back of his head as he goes to sit. He shuffles along the row, stamping on a few feet by accident (and apologising hurriedly) to sit with Jazra. "Can ya help me tie this kerchief, please?" He asks her, trying to watch the sands at the same time as turning the back of his towards her.

In the galleries, Suraiya hops into the galleries, smacking her riding jacket against her leg with one hand while the other fans herself. It doesn't help that she's not that well protected from the Istan weathers like some others. She rubs her face between fanning, blue eyes scanning the seating to find a good spot.

In the galleries, O'lin looks to see who has recently arrived and flashes a crooked smile of greeting before turning back to squint through the swirling dirt at the sands. "Should h-have grabbed a flask of something....shards."

Slender brown fibers from the trees of the tropical groves are caught up on whirling breezes, and they dance about with thick clouds of dustmote partners in the shafts of light that beat hotly down through the open Istan hatching cavern.

In the galleries, Jazra nods and quickly and deftly ties the kerchief onto Rilayen before pulling a bandana on around her neck and up to cover her mouth. The result is rather silly looking, so she pulls it back down around her neck and removes the bandana. "Looks silly." She mutters. "Forget the dust." She mutters. "It looks a little silly to me." she mutters as she scrunches up the bandana. "I'm already covered in dust from that mad dash across the bowl. If only humans were as fast as dragons!" She says fervently.

In the galleries, Sarisia enters the hatching galleries, curious eyes scanning the area for familar faces. Giving a few waves here and there she finally catches sight of her sister. "Oi, Suri!" She calls as she makes her way over to her twin, giving brief apologizes as she moves between conversing people.

In the galleries, Griere comes in from the bowl with a cough and sputter, rubbing a bit of dust from her eyes and adjusting the scarf that's around her nose and mouth, thankful for the momentary respite that the cavern offers from dry, gritty wind.

In the galleries, Caitlyn doesn't know if Jazra will see her - perched a little higher up in the gallery - but she grins and waves to the hunter anyhow. As she waits along with the others, the woman becomes just a bit impatient, and her fingers begin their restless dance over her drawstring pouch. Those eyes, though - they watch like a hawk.

On the Dragon Ledges, Lirit settles on the ledge above, leaning against Eleketh's flank as she watches in silent apprehension what's happening below. Maybe it's egg time...time to find out how many lives are going to be in her charge all too soon.

Nalaieth makes her way around the sands, her tail smoothing the dark grains into a soothing zen sand garden despite the kick-up of winds. Before the first wallow is dug, before the preparations can be adequately made, Nalaieth makes a startled noise of surprise, and the first egg arrives.

Anguished Firebound Egg
The lower portions of this egg are a deep, verdant green-black, much like a meadow at night. Small flecks of golden color, almost like a light, are scattered across this green field, shining out of the darkness. Further up the egg is a black field with silver and gold specks across it; while the silver points seem to form a regular pattern, it is as if the golden ones are dancing. Across the apex of the egg is a bright red and orange marking, like a bonfire in the depths of night. A ring of a dark, smoky grey surrounds the red and orange splotch in an irregular ring pattern.

In the galleries, "'Reaches duties," Suri cheerfully calls to those around her that she passes, only to stop abruptly when she heard her name. Or at least thought so.. Her blue eyes roam the galleries and finally rest on her carbon copy, giving her a wave. She tries to squeeze into the closest seat, glancing at the riders nearby. "Is there any room?" She asks with a wide grin. Before she could even settle, the queen already decided to start.

In the galleries, V'lano arrives not too far behind the Weyrwoman, nothing but a hand over his nose to protect it from the dry dust scooting around in the heated breeze. He pauses a few steps within the gallery entrance to survey those who have benefitted from earlier notice or easier escape from their day's task to get here early in the process. Eventually his gaze strays to the sands below, merely checking - but his glance is timely and a low 'Ah' escapes him, accompanied by a nod for the first egg's arrival. Then he sets out into the seats, looking for a spot to settle.

In the galleries, The word 'flask' catches Airalyn's attention causing her to look towards the brownrider. Scooting towards the gentleman, the barmaid holds out her very large clay flask towards him. "Here, I will share." A small flash of a smile towards him and her attention is back on the sands. "How fast does these normally go?"

In the galleries, Jazra catches a brief motion out of the corner of her eyes and turns to look for the source, still not sure who waved she calls up to Caitlyn. "Cait! Come get a seat! Front row center!" Is the call as she pats the spot next to her. Then she turns to catch the first egg. "ooooh, egg number one!" She says cheerfully to Rilayen and points.

In the galleries, "Thanks!" Before Rilayen can say anything else, however, the first egg's arrived and he's practically bouncing out of his seat to point at it. "The first one!" His voice is muffled now by the kerchief. "Look at those colours!" The kerchief's probably a good thing, really, seeing as how he's shouting and it's quietening his voice dramatically. "It's gonne get dusty, huh?" He nudges Jazra, eyes showing the grin his concealed mouth can't convey.

In the galleries, Sarisia spares the first egg a glance, nodding her approval. When she arrives to where her sister has taken a seat she finds her own spot behind Suraiya. "Sure is dusty out there." She announces, taking off her jacket and smaking it against her seat, unleashing small dust clouds.

C'len vaults down Vildaeth's side to the ground, as the dragon warbles a greeting.

Cinnamon-tinged wings bring the somewhat dusty Vildaeth and his rider through one of the arches that leads into the hatching caverns. There's a sense of hurriedness about the bronze's movement as he tucks his wings close and lands on the black sands, concern and curiosity both demonstrated in the soft croon that comes from him. C'len slides off his dragon's side, eyes widened, "We didn't miss it did we?" Noting only the one egg, he looks much relieved.

In the galleries, Caitlyn suddenly is enveloped by a short, but hard fit of coughing as the gritty air irritates the back of her throat. Her smile to Jazra is cut off by the spasm, and she grabs at the small skin slung over one shoulder - waiting for it to subside before rising to her feet. "Oooh," her gritty voice tries to coo as she notices the first egg, already uncapping the skin to take a few quick drinks from the thing. Her strong form settles down next to Jazz, and she offers her friend a wide grin. "Excellent timing!"

In the galleries, O'lin licks his lips and eyes the clay flask that Airalyn extends and leans over, not taking it yet, "w-what's in it?" Though the arrival of the first egg draws his attention awayfor a moment. "Ah, h-how long? Depends on how many eggs.....so h-hopefully it'll be a little while."

In the galleries, Maduk comes in quietly, and without a fuss. He doesn't make much conversation, but decides to just take a seat away from everyone for a while. As he slides onto a bench he trips and can be heard swearing in the background.

In the galleries, Suraiya waves a hand in front of her face, coughing, while sending a weak glare towards her sister. "Yes," cough "Dusty." She keeps the hand by her face; unfortunately the greenrider does not have a scarf to spare so she might as well do the best she could. Catching sight of the bronzerider entering the sands, both arms raise up to wave with a shout "C'len! Viladaeth!" She leans into her sister. "I bet this clutch's gonna be great with those two paired up. Ista an' 'Reaches dragons. Can't be any better than that."

The 'Reachian pair arrives just in time for the next addition to the clutch, Nalaieth's tawny sides shuddering as the second egg arrives. The gold turns her head to study it for a long moment as if she's puzzled by its appearance. "No, you didn't miss it," Nolee calls, her attention drawn to the colorful speckled egg as Nalaieth's alarm about its arrival draws the girl closer, brown eyes wide. "Come and look at this, if you can see it past this flying dirt. It just...appeared here." Nalaieth croons a welcome to Vildaeth, her neck craned around in steady view of their second eggbound offspring.

Foreboding Woods Egg
Mist hangs on this egg, obscuring the forms that shade and mark the shell. Dark lines and masses, umber and gray, twist in craggy branches, fading into the fog and sharpening again where it clears. Pale brown brambles march along a ground-line before the base of the egg turns deadly black. On one side of the rounded shell, a path is cleared through the ominous shapes and their reaching fingers, a wind-swept road, with the brown specks of long-dried, fallen leaves, leading off into the shrouded, twilight gloom.

In the galleries, Sarisia watches C'len's arrival with a smirk. "Little late there." She mutters to herself before laying her jacket down on her laps and stretching out. "Been a while since I've seen a clutching at Ista." She states, sending a wave to a familiar face seated in another section of the galleries. The brownrider gives off a sudden sneeze, staring down at her jacket. "Might not have been the best idea, eh?" She asks herself, giving a grin as she watches the next egg appear. "Yah, 'Reaches an' Ista make a good pairin'. Glad to see C'len down there, he's a good guy."

In the galleries, Airalyn turns her head a bit and looks once more at the bronzer as she shakes the flask. "The best thing for weather like this" She says with a sly voice and an even slyer smile. "Water cool water also." His answer to her first question has her cocking her head. "How many eggs are normally clutched then?"

In the galleries, V'lano finds Griere with a glance, but there are rows of seats between himself and she and he pauses, anyway, to remark upon a comment overheard along the way - Rilayen's. "Depends on how bad the breeze gets. It kicks up the sand and dust pretty bad when it's been this dry." He tusses out a handkerchief from a pocket and wipes a little grit from the corners of his eyes, then turns to check on the sands again, cogniscant of Vildaeth's arrival. "Reaches should be proud," remarks the weyrleader through a dry smirk.

In the galleries, "It's never this sharding dry," is all Griere grumbles, mostly to herself. Her lashes are still narrowed as she tries to blink the dust away from her lashes and see the latest egg. The grit and grime seems to make her particularly grumpy today. "Yes, yes. We're all happy to have C'len here." She gets that formality out of the way quickly.

As instructed--but largely because he's just so curious about it--C'len ventures over to join in the study of the eggs, not having been so up close and personal with them before in this state. He hears what might sound like his name, and casts a quick look over his shoulders to the galleries, waving blindly in that direction in case someone was looking for him. "We made it, it's okay," he mutters to Vildaeth, who is almost as anxious about the whole process as Nala seems to be.

In the galleries, O'lin chuckles at Airalyn, "w-water huh?" He asks and at last takes the flask as it's shaken at him. "Th-thanks so much. I didn't come prepaired. And I th-think that twenty eggs is v-very good now but sh-shards, they used to have over thirty e-eggs when there was still thread." He takes a sample sip then, wanting to wash down the dust in his throat, eyeing Airalyn as he expects that to be 'fire water' in the flask.

In the galleries, Suraiya bobs her head quickly to her sister. "Of course he is," she grins at that. "He's C'len." As if that answers anything. If they were clutchmates, then they're great.. As far as Suri sees it. The greenrider coughs again through the dust, wrinkling her nose in the direction of the bowl before shielding her eyes and glancing back to the sands. "I think there's gonna be a good clutch of... not sure, 10 eggs? Whatcha think Sari?"

In the galleries, Maduk doesn't look as charmed as everyone else here- who can when you are so uncomfortable. He rubs the top of his hair with his right hand, kicking out dust and sand. "Shards..." is all that is heard from him today. He finally decides to look about the crowds, possibly looking strike up a conversation with a friend.

In the galleries, Caitlyn is rather lacking in things to say, which might seem unusual. Being more than polite in the presence of a clutching dragon is a good bet to keep her hide intact, though. Hopefully settled down for good this time, the woman draws forth the links of copper from her pouch, and nimble fingers begin closing rings - her eyes flickering down to check she's got the weave correct every-so-often. The scene on the 'Sands holds most of her attention.

Nalaieth blinks several sets of lids to keep clear the dust that seems to rise into plumes, then disperse by the rough Istan winds. She gives up watching the alien egg-thing and paces back and forth along the perimeter of the grounds, tail lashing in disapproval of this weather and these conditions, though at least she doesn't chase Vildaeth or C'len away from the eggs. Unfortunately, her activity only aggravates the dust, making Nolee struggle to calm her lifemate. "Hold up, will you? I can hardly breathe over here."

In the galleries, Sarisia takes a moment to think, scrunching up her nose slightly. "Well, I'd say twelve." With a nod she glances back at sands, watching the anxious gold. "Wonder if the dust will let up, hope Tiqueth isn't covered in sand." With a sigh she kicks her boots together, trying to get some dust off of them.

Only after a little more communication does Nalaieth cease her protest in favor of her task at hand, and the search is on for another 'good' spot. It takes some time, but Nalaieth triumphantly completes a clumsy sandy wallow that is quick to become the resting place for the next egg to arrive, and it's soon after followed by one more.

Fiery Fingers Egg
One side of this egg is dark, dark black, almost blending in with the hatching sands, although its faint shine makes it stand out enough to be noticed. The arc of the shell is smooth and clean, with just one slight dip marring its surface, off-center. Just past that dip is a wash of color, yellows and oranges and reds that curl along the edge like fiery fingers reaching for something. The colors blur together and fade into the black, almost giving a sense of movement even as the egg sits still.

Terror in the Depths Egg
Midnight washes the surface of this large egg, condemning it to hold a terrifying aura. A silvery stream of speckles rains down from the surface, allowing a paler midnight blue to wash from top to bottom. The gravelly surface at the base of the egg forms a barrier between the watery blue and solid sandy surface of the "ground." Forms that inspire children's nightmares move through the inky blackness of the sea, around and around the egg. White masks with hollow eyespaces, draped in tattered robes, these forms continue the endless circle around the poor ovoid.

In the galleries, Airalyn watches O'lin takes the little sip from her flask and chuckles. "It is just water, I promise," she says with an amused smile. "I wouldn't offer anything else in this weather." Her words are emphasized by the dust that is picked up by the failing gold. "Thirty?" She looks over at the queen with amazement once more. "She can hold thirty of those things."

In the galleries, Jazra peers over at Caitlyn's latest work and blinks." What's that going to be?" She asks curiously as she peers out of one eye to look at the latest eggs. "Is it some kind of new jewelry?" She asks as she fidgets, readjusting her quiver and bow in their respective places.

In the galleries, "She's quick about it," V'lano remarks, having watched a while as Nalaeith manages a couple more arrivals down on the hot sand. He tips his head then to Rilayen and moves along down the aisle to Griere's seat, finally finding a place beside her to actually sit down - likely to the benefit of anyone behind him whose view he may have previously been blocking.

In the galleries, Cynara has been here all along. Honest. The little bluerider's tucked herself off to the side, with meatrolls and juice, and is tallying off eggs on a scrap of hide, watching the sands more than anyone who might be in the galleries.

In the galleries, Suraiya gives a light giggle. "Ozzy might be lost an' buried in the sand by the time the queen's finished clutching." She spares the bowl a glance, as if she can spot her little lifemate outside. The new eyes are observed, and the greenrider tilts her head this way and that. "Nalaeith's seems to favor the darker-shelled eggs," she comments.

Vildaeth shifts on the dark sands, so hot and dry and different from his home. His movement only further disturbs the dust as the relentless breezes cast about tufts of dried citron leaves, untended slips of hide used to bet on the clutch, and a colorful ribbon from a little girl's hair.

In the galleries, O'lin passes Airalyn the flask back once he's had his drink, "thanks, you're a l-life saver." He leans back, getting comfortable and nods to Airalyn's question, "Well, she might not have that many in her but..I'm sure she could produce that much." He watches the ribbon go flying and sighs. "Sh-sharding wind."

In the galleries, "Four so far, isn't it?" Sarisia questions, watching the lastest arrivals. Giving off another sneeze Sari frowns, covering her mouth. "Ya think?" She asks, searching through her riding jacket. "Shard it, don't get a handkerchief." Looking around her she sighs. "Anyone got a handkerchief they wouldn't mind my soilin'?"

In the galleries, Caitlyn shrugs at Jazra's words, her eyes sparkling with intensity as she looks over to her benchmate. Low words carry no further than Jazz. "Maybe. I don't really know. I managed to coax some wire from the Hold smith, and I started making rings last sevenday. Now i'm trying more complex kinds of patterns... I like some of them. Could be bracelets or necklaces, or whatever my crazy mind comes up with..." Another sneeze rocks her form, and Cait now *tucks* that scarf firmly behind the junction of back of hair and ear. "Sharding DUST," she mutters.

In the galleries, Griere is busy trying to brush the dirt off of her clothes, swiping at her stomach and flicking at her legs. She misses the latest eggs and instead pulls off a shoe to tap at it and try to get it clean. She turns to V'lano to pout at him, though the scarf hides most of the expression, and she wiggles her dusty toes a bit. Only after does she see Nalaieth's newest arrivals - that seems to ease her expression, perhaps even makes her smile a bit. "She's getting on quite well. Have you placed any marks?" There's a teasing glint in her eyes for that.

In the galleries, Ishalla finds a spot to sit down, far to the back and half hidden by shadows. Not that this is unusual behavior for the woman by a long shot. Half the time she seems to be trying to make people forget she exists at all, even though she's amiable enough when someone is willing to chase her into the cool and the dark. Her and her lifemate both share this; and it's only grown stronger over the years. She has a dustveil tucked over her face as well, and from her eyes she might just adopt the fashion permanantly, even after the dust is gone.

The arrival of two more eggs catches C'len by suprise, but he doesn't get a good look at them. Instead he manages to convince Vil to lift up one of his wings, serving almost as an umbrella for him and, should Nolee wish to join them, the queenrider as well. --though it may be that Nolee's too busy trying to calm her dragon more.

The queen sits there, resolute, her tail moving in a slow, petulant swish. "Quit fussing. You don't have a choice about when you clutch; they're ready now." Nolee foresakes the comfortable offer of an umbrella-shelter from Vildaeth and climbs up on Nala's foreleg and tugs down her kerchief to speak more directly to the dragon. Afterwards, she shrugs hopelessly and wrings her hands while blinking to clear dust from her concerned eyes. "She's trying to not have the rest until the dust goes down."

In the galleries, "Use my bandana." Jazra offers Sarisa with a smile. "It looked kind of silly on me I think. Glad to be rid of it." She calls over to Sarisa, her keen hunter's ears having picked the noise out of the others. "Go ahead." She stands and strides up the tiers between people for Sarisa to use.

Nalaieth> I bespoke Vildaeth with << Make it stop, >> urges the insistent honeyed voice, rough on the edges as an unfinished carving. << It disturbes me. It makes me itchy. It's bad for the eggs. >>

In the galleries, Suraiya looks away from the sands to regard Jazra, grinning brightly at her. "Sari will get that dirtied up good. I bet ya'd need it to protect 'gainst all this dust at the end." And she coughs to emphasize her point. A glance is given to her twin, grinning at her as well. She's not trying to put her at a disadvantage. She turns back to the sands, scooting in her seat as much as can in case an attack from her sister might come.

In the galleries, "Handkerchief?" V'lano's hand goes for his pocket, but as he glances back at Sarisia he notes Jazra's already got an offer to make, and resettles with a grin for Griere. "I don't bet on eggs," he replies, though there's mischief in -his- smile as well, and he nudges her elbow gently for that pout, eyes twinkling. "I only lose. - Yes, she's doing an admirable job." The weyrleader glances back at the sands, and whatever he might -say- his smile turns wan and brows furrow for Nalaieth's apparent dismay. "There has to be something to do about the dust. It can't be comfortable."

Dragon> Nalaieth senses that Vildaeth's wings, held out for protection, manage to block very little of the sand despite their lengthy span. The colors of his mind whirl with anxiety, wanting to help but uncertain how to remedy the situation.

In the galleries, Sarisia turns towards Jazra's voice, watching the woman as she makes her way over to her with the bandad. Sari gets to her own feet, taking up the offered bandad from Jazra. "Ah, thanks," She says between sniffles. "I owe ya one I suppose. Names Sarisia, 'Reaches duties." She adds with a nod and smile. "Hey, I wont' get it /that/ dirty." She says towards her sister, giving a smirk.

In the galleries, Once the flask is back in her hand, Airalyn takes a long swig of it herself before scowling herself at the weather as she attempts to remove the hair out of her face. This only causes her to srowl once more. "Should I get use to this sort of thing or is the dust a new thing around here?"

In the galleries, Cynara continues to make notes on her hide. If anyone peeks, she's writing a quick two/three word description of each egg on it. It looks suspiciously like somebody plans on keeping book.

Nalaieth> I bespoke Vildaeth with << Urge yours. >> Violet petulance and red-tinged starbursts of irritation, << Urge yours to get them to help make it stop. >>

In the galleries, Griere shakes her head for the offer of a handkerchief, though her eyes are on the new mother-gold. "Getting on well, considering," she qualifies. "I wouldn't want to be clutching during this obnoxious dust. Aerianth is disgusted with it as is." Content that her clothes are as clean and neat as they can be, shoe back on and Nalaieth's progress good, the Weyrwoman glances around the stands with an eye for that flask. "What are they drinking?" she wonders of V'lano, her nose wrinkled under the scarf.

In the galleries, Jazra smiles wanely and offers a hand. "I'm Jazra, a hunter here at Ista. If you hang around you'll more than likely be eating one of my catches. I was practicing archery and the next thing I know my brother's blue buzzes the beach and goes sailing off for the hatching grounds. I followed him with my friend Rilayen and lo and behold I find a clutching going on. I hadn't seen one before now." She nods in the direction of the eggs. "I'm kinda new here at Ista." She adds.

C'len and Nolee step over to the side of the sands, toward a gathering of concerned weyrstaff. C'len says, "We should try to do something about the dust." Some quiet heads-together brainstorming takes place, then several caverns workers are given directions. "Relief is coming, Nala," Nolee encourages, as the workers vanish through the twin arches briefly, returning after the first of several trips to bring in buckets of seawater that are placed in intervals around the perimeter of the black hatching sands.

Both dragons, protective of the eggs already clutched, seem uneasy with what appears to be intruders onto the sands; the activity of the workers stirs up even more dust that is caught by a breeze and carried to both the galleries and the draconic ledges higher up.

In the galleries, O'lin chuckles, "n-no, it's not like this very often. Hot and d-damp usually but hey, it's an a-adventure right?" He coughs into his first, turning his head away from a blast of dusty wind. "I f-feel like we're at Igen."

In the galleries, Cynara glances at O'lin. "Oh no, this isn't Igen. It's only Igen when it does this for a full month and you just pray for *some* moisture in the air, any."

In the galleries, Maduk watches Cynara from his seat. He neck is craned a bit, possibly trying to see what she is writing about.

In the galleries, Caitlyn nose wrinkles as her eyes take in the fussy queen practically nose-to-nose with Nolee. The smith nudges her shoulder gently against Jazra's, though she hasn't really processed that fact the hunter didn't hear her previous comment. "Ahmm...she... Oh, Nalaieth seems to have a problem with something. Wouldn't be this sharding *dirt* on the air, now would it?" Heavy sarcasm laces her soft words, golden-brown eyes rolling.

In the galleries, "Aerianth would simply refuse," V'lano conjectures through a grin - then chokes a bit on a swirling tendril of dust kicked up by the activity below. He lifts his hand to wipe grains away from his mouth and moustache, eyes narrowed and briefly watering against the onslaught. Out with the handkerchief again to wipe his eyes; then he can glance back at the flask being passed. Then back at Griere with a shrug and a grin: "Probably something to clean the dirt out of their systems."

In the galleries, Suraiya turns her head back at the other two. "Well met, Jazra," she adds from her end, even if were not directed at her. "An' 'm Suraiya, or jus' Suri, from 'Reaches an' all. Sari's twin." As if that were not obvious by their looks. She waves a hand at her sister. "Sure ya will," she says before turning her attention to frown at the sands. "I wonder what they're gonna try to do."

In the galleries, "Plenty hot for them," Rilayen says, distracted from speaking by the eggs. "How many's that now? 4? Why isn't she laying any more?" At the mention of his name he glances at Jazra, grins past her at Caitlyn and then peers through the dust down at the sands again. "C'mon, you've got more eggs in that belly of yours, I'll bet," he says through the kerchief tied round his mouth and nose.

A sudden burst of warm wind brings more dust and detritus from the bowl to mingle with the blackness of the hatching sands. The wind causes it all to swirl together and twist into a small, weak dust devil that blows on a path toward the galleries, obscuring from view the eggs that've already been laid.

In the galleries, Sarisia nods as she takes in all the information Jazra provides. "First time at a clutching, eh? Well, take a seat here if ya like, good view." She retakes her own seat, waving towards the empty space next to her. After a moment of being seated she blows strongly into the bandana, so much for not soiling it.

In the galleries, Jazra blinks. "I think they're going to try to trap the dust in the water buckets." She says thoughtfully. Then the stirred up dirt sends her coughing. "I hope the winds don't get too bad. Duststorms would keep me in. I don't like spending endless days inside, one of the reasons why I became a hunter, I love being active." Her wane smile and a nod of thanks is all the twins get however as she sits.

In the galleries, Ishalla coughs darkly as all that dust and blackness swirls in that direction. "Shards," she mutters, tugging her veil all the tightly around her face. Even this dark curse is said in a typically soft voice, though she does lean forward to tap Rilayen once on the shoulder. "They'll come when they come, cousin," she murmurs. "Shouting for her to rush won't change that."

In the galleries, "Igen?" The dusty blue eyed woman says with a cough as even more dust is thrown up from the wind. Swiping her hands across her skirt in attempt to dislodge some of the sand off of them, Airalyn doesn't seem to be enjoying herself as much as once would for their first clutching. "I have never been to Igen."

Nalaieth can resist no longer, and settles over a dip in the sands to deposit the next egg, almost unending white seen on the glistening, still-damp ovoid. Before the sands have dried its shell, along comes another, this one an oddly-clored egg that is rolled around in the sand immediately.

Gaping Chasm Egg
This egg is a trifle oddly colored. The shell is a mostly unbroken white, save for a swath of muted blue-gray that bisects it along its horizontal axis. The gaping chasm is unchained by any bridge and far too wide for any leap to span the gap. Shadows on the hatching grounds, or perhaps a dusting of Ista's black volcanic sands, put a vague smudge of darkness on the apex of the egg. The shadow of a heroic couple, prepared to swing across the gap, perhaps. Regardless, there is an uneasy stillness about this egg, as though it waits with leashed impatience for hatching day.

Solitary Reflection Egg
The light plays tricks with this egg, causing it to gleam and glimmer like the ocean under the sun's light as it plays through the tropical foliage of an Istan forest. A lone image stands out from the multihued trees and rushing-water backdrop, seeming brushed across its surface. The image is a poignant one, hinting at a lifetime of memories, these entwined lines representing fingers in close-up, bent in focus to the minute task of tying a small bit of feather and carved, curved bone into a semblance of a fishing lure.

In the galleries, Caitlyn is clueless about poor Jazra being stuck in the middle of two conversations on either side - her attention divided three ways already. She's also missed Sarisia's smile to her, since her attention is currently directed downward. Those links in her fingers build slowly into a rather odd, though intricate pattern - the smith staring at it with keen intent. A low murmur, likely to herself. "Haven't seen a clutching in lots of Turns. Last one was during Threadfall..."

In the galleries, Cynara hrms a little bit. "I miss the desert. But I wouldn't leave Ista now. Wouldn't drag Marsath away from where he hatched, and..." She glances down at herself for a moment.

In the galleries, Rilayen 'whoop's happily as a fifth egg arrives, giving it a good long look. The buckets being put out get only the briefest of glances before he tilts his head right backwards to look almost upside-down at Ishalla. "You were right there cuz - look at that one. All greyish and stuff." His voice is loud with excitement.

In the galleries, Suraiya glances away a moment to look to Jazra. "Oh," is all she says for a moment as she looks back to watch the queen deposit two new soft-shelled eggs onto the sands. "Being out is nice, 'cept when it's really really cold up in 'Reaches an' have have really early morning drills." Suri can still be sore about the weather back home. She rubs at her face, already ashen with the dust blowing in. Her eyes are shielded against the worst of it, but that doesn't help her breathing.

In the galleries, Sarisia concentrates on the sands now, frowning as the eggs are covered by the sand. "It's pretty bad, now ya can't barely see anythin'." Sari shifts in her seat slightly, trying to find a better angle. "Oh, two more, that makes six now?" Another sneeze is offset by the sand, she burries her nose into the bandana again, muttering into it.

In the galleries, Jazra covers her ears. "Ril, can't you be quieter?" She demands, annoyed. "You only get one set of ears in life! I'd rather have mine intact." She says with a roll of her eyes and sighs as she turns to the two High Reachers. "He's /really/ loud."

In the galleries, Caitlyn starts at Rilayen's whoop, staring at the seemingly 'sudden' appearance of the 4th and 5th egg - her face a study in guilt for a moment. "Ah drat it! I missed the queen laying those. Better pay more attention..." Too soon though, she's dividing that precious parcel too many ways yet again.

Nolee treads toward the stands warily, approaching those in front rows who seem less fancily-clad. "Um, would you mind lending us a hand? I'm afraid our caverns workers are all busy keeping dust out of the feast or bringing water. We'll just need a moment of your time..." Her thin voice continues, various words audible such as, "Nalaieth? Noo, she wants your help, really," in contradiction to the scowling clutchmother below.

"All you have to do is take up a position near a bucket, and Minmar will tell you when to pour the water on the sands. But please stay clear of the eggs?" That request made, Nolee heads back downward, leaving those who accept to follow and be directed by hands-wringing Minmar.

In the galleries, Griere huffs out a little laugh. "She probably would refuse and just hold out until rain. I hope it does rain soon. This dust is just ridiculous. Is this Ista or Igen?!" Snort. Yes, the Weyrwoman is mighty unhappy about the weather. "Well, I'm glad you're not betting. Not that I doubt you have a few spare marks to throw away on a gamble. Aerianth always wants me to do it." And for that she can only give the far wall, presumably the queen's ledge beyond, a quizzical look. But at Nolee's request she straightens up a bit and looks about the stands to see if there are volunteers.

In the galleries, Ishalla leaps down as bid, ready to pour the water as bid. She picks out her bucket and waits for the signal, though her eyes get a rather rueful cast about them. Down there with even more of the dust. Veil or not, she sneezes nearly as soon as she's down there, eyes watering for all they are worth.

In the galleries, Jazra stands, cricks her fingers, and walks over to a nearby bucket and waits for her next instructions. Noticing the scowling queen she bows politely to her before straightening up and waiting for instructions once more.

In the galleries, Airalyn also stands as the request is made by both the rider and queen. Grapping a bucket, the woman stands ready to do as she is told and will continue to do so for the rest of the clutching.

Minmar helps to direct the volunteers around the sandy perimeter, with Nolee pointing people on a circuitous route around the sands rather than across them. After the volunteers are mostly in place, Minmar signals, and leads the group by stepping three paces, emptying his bucket, and retreating. The water's first contact with the hot sands produces hissing steam, which mingles with the rising dust clouds, and, amazingly, seems to tame them somewhat. When the volunteers follow suit and pour theirs, surely the situation will be improved.

In the galleries, And even sooner, when Caitlyn has remembered to raise her eyes and take in the rare spectacle of a queen clutching, she overhears that odd request from Nolee. Dubious eyes, scan the form of the aggravated queen beyond her, but Cait soon enough shrugs, and deposits her chain back into its pouch at her hips. Taking a more circuitous route, the woman takes the few steps from the galleries downward onto the Sands, and hefts a bucket - staying scrupulously close to Minmar. A small bow to Nalaieth is the only token to the queen she can offer.

In the galleries, Suraiya doesn't seem to mind the loud people on the stands as much as some others might. At the goldrider's appearance, the young greenrider stands up swiftly. "No problem!" She grins and moves to follow her, making sure to give a very respectful bow to Nalaieth and then Vildaeth-- whose rider then gets a cheerful wave. She stands by a bucket, glancing back to her sister before standing ready for any directions.

In the galleries, Rilayen rapidly blinks to clear dust out of his eyes, grins at Jazra's complaint, then follows the goldrider down to the edge of the sands. He stops at the bucket he's directed, almost kicking it over with his foot. Shooting a look at Nalaieth, he squats down nearer to the bucket, watching Minmar for the signal to tip it over. He rocks from toes to heels as he waits.

In the galleries, V'lano, like Griere, just looks to see who'll offer - and even lifts a hand to ward off any suggestion that he might join the parade. "Aerianth would never permit that, either," he asides to the weyrwoman with a dry smirk, brows arched. "But she'd permit you betting on eggs? She should pry from Nalaeith any clues about these ones and -then- I'd bet, perhaps. Maybe. On a long shot." He slips back on his seat, making room for others to bypass him into the aisle, those who might go down to the sands to tend to the water and dust.

A contraction ripples across Nala's smoky-golden flank, paws digging into the sand and wings held up for balance. She hunkers down as Vildaeth croons encouragingly nearby, as if that might ease the process along and help to distract Nalaieth from any suspicious movement up there in the stands. Then suddenly there's another egg, soft and new, deposited into the heat for hardening.

Starry Rose Egg
A surface as abyssal blue-black as the night sky is flickering traces of lighter blue, yellow, red, orange and even silver-white. The colors shimmer like stars against the depths of the midnight skies. Midway down the egg's side, a chain of red and green markings, very much like the blossoms of a rose, float along in the galaxy of stars, dancing through the glittering night sky. The blossom markings are so realistic that they could float off of the egg's surface, becoming a garden of roses twisting a path on a silver and black river, a river of stars in the depths of the night.

In the galleries, "Well I wasn't expectin' this to happen." Sarisia states as she raises an eyebrow at Nolee. When she realizes that her sister has left she wastes no time moving down towards Minmar. With a quick bow to the clutchparents she's ready for the task.

In the galleries, Jazra grabs her bucket, knees knocking against the metal there's a clunk clank noise as she walks, some of the water even sloshes onto her knees. Jazra steadies the bucket a little ways out before nodding to Nolee and waiting again for Minmar to instruct her. "This is cool. Don't worry ma'am." She says with a second bow to the queen before waiting for her instructions. "And I wasn't expecting it either." She says with a chuckle to Sarisia. "Are there always things like this happening at a clutching?". Then the signal is given and Jazra gently tips the bucket, slowly pouring the liquid onto the sizzling sands, not so much it would splash though, just enough to dampen the sands.

In the galleries, Cynara frowns a little bit, looking down at herself assessingly. It's very clear...she wants to help, but isn't sure she's up for it. She does stand and move to the edge of the stands, looking out at the clutch...and a look of faint annoyance crosses her features.

In the galleries, Ishalla is no longer watching the eggs. The steam that rises up when she pours her bucket out is plenty enough to watch. Dust or steam. Unpleasant in either event, but if it helps, then it helps. She pauses before pouring out the whole of it, glancing around to see if everyone's using up their bucket in one go or if they're doing it by bits and turns.

C'len catches Suri's wave and, as the volunteers make their way onto the sands to help out, it seems as if some of the dust problems are helped by the addition of water. "Is that better?" He asks of Vil, whose attention is focused on Nalaieth, the bronze's eyes whirling with their concern for her. "Thanks for the help," he calls, though his voice isn't loud enough to be startling to anyone near by. Sudden movements? Probably not a great idea at this juncture.

In the galleries, Caitlyn says "Somehow, I don't think this is typical," Caitlyn mutters to Jazra through the scarf in front of her nose and mouth - squinting her eyes through grit-encrustation as she more directly deposits her pail of water on the hot Sands. Positively steamy. "Oiy, wanna bet this turns the sand into mud if we pour *too* much on it?" Her eyes intently watch not only her task, but the mood of the queen rather close beyond."

In the galleries, Griere shakes her head a little, "I think she's just intrigued by the idea of gambling. She's never given me any clue about eggs - not even her own." She's still perched and upright, trying to see over heads and around shoulders towards the workers now on the sands. "Do they have enough hands down there? Poor Nalaieth. She must really be uncomfortable to let all these strangers so close to her eggs, new as they are and all. It looks like a fine bunch so far, doesn't it?"

In the galleries, Suraiya's blue eyes are focused upon Minmar when he gives the instructions to pour. She giggles at discovering her twin among the ground and then she answers Jazra quickly with "This is a first. I've been to many clutchings but never nothin' like this." She moves carefully and more easily with the bucket, pouring the water after the few steps slowly, with an eye kept on the golden mama-dragon to make sure there're no sudden moves her way.

In the galleries, Sarisia grabs up the first water filled bucket she sees. After giving a glance around her, catching others already busy making themselves useful she follows their lead. She lets the water spill out on the sands. "Well, I've never had anythin' like this happen at any clutching I've ever been to." Sari answers Jazra, continuing to pour the water.

In the galleries, "Somehow, I don't think this is typical," Caitlyn mutters to Jazra through the scarf in front of her nose and mouth - squinting her eyes through grit-encrustation as she more directly deposits her pail of water on the hot Sands. Positively steamy. "Oiy, wanna bet this turns the sand into mud if we pour *too* much on it?" Her eyes intently watch not only her task, but the mood of the queen rather close beyond.

In the galleries, Rilayen tips his bucket enthusiastically, a great hissing gust of steam spurting up before his face. Startled face peering out from behind the fading cloud, the boy angles the bucket up so that the water doesn't pour out so fast. Now it's just a gentle simmery steam that wafts upwards. "Alright," the scribe mutters, quiet for once. The imminent presence of the clutch parents is probably the cause of that.

Once the volunteers have completed their task, Minmar and a few of the other weyrstaff scan the sands and, seeing the improvement, wave everyone back to the galleries, reminding them again--as if it were needed, with the close watching of the clutchparents--that they should be careful of the eggs.

Nalaieth turns to Vildaeth, clearly expecting some help in getting rid of the interlopers. Tense, her displeasure causes her sides to ripple, and she fails to notice the arrival of a multicolored egg in her wake. That is, until Vildaeth's protective croon calls her attention back, where she calms as she notices the sire providing the egg with a sandy-mound of a cradle.