In which Little Sock's eggs hatch

[noleepackrat]

(continued from previous entry)

Kintryth certainly takes more passing interest than his dam at the impending firelizard Hatching - the blue giving a soft hum in recognition of the event before falling back into somnolescence. Caitlyn, meanwhile, again cringes away in mock fear of her Weyrleader, making 'fear hands' in his direction - then pointing towards the three male firelizards gathered about the scene. "Not on your life, man - I have three boys already - and Morgan is three handsful!" The little bronze chirrups sweetly as he recognizes he's being talked about, then settling back to hum his throat out again with his two small blue brethren. A quick wave and laugh to Kaelana as she skitters away, and Caitlyn peers about as more people filter into the beach area. "Jays, word gets around quick with dragons about, doesn't it?"

"No wonder you wanted to land here," Tegara says to her dragon, even though Ria is well beneath the waves on some secret errand of her own. She sketches a quick salute to Nolee and a second to V'lano, this one accompanied by a wink and a warm smile. "Hey there, V'lano, Nolee, Cait," and a silent nod to the Fort bronzerider. "Now I know where that stray ball of yarn went," she remarks on sighting the basket. Lazulai returns to her shoulder, humming softly.

Within the basket of yarn, several 'yarn' balls start to tremble and shake. Little Sock, soaring toward shore with another fish, takes note and lets out a screech. She even remembers where she left the shredded fish, and after a vicious snap of her teeth to brain-damage the new one enough that it won't flop, drops it alongside. After that she wings over to the basket and perches atop the handle, whereat she sets up a gargly sort of hum.

It's a sober Madge, thankfully, that wanders onto the beach and the ensuing scene. Huh. A crowd. Rather than shy away from it, she ventures forth, by all appearances searching for someone or something.

R'tran sees a group gathering about the knitting basket and casts a long, nosy glance over his shoulder, still eating his lunch. He hears a faint rattling sound, and knowing that can only mean one thing, he jumps up, brushes the dust from his bum, and ambles over, carefully rewrapping his spiderclaws and soft rolls and tucking them into his pocket. Arriving at the group, he renews his greeting, giving all a warm smile.

Nalaieth continues to watch with mild interest, fascinated at the arrival of more little cousins to dote on her, she hopes. Nolee stops leaning on the dragon's flank in order to better see inside the basket. "No, I don't see the blue yarn, but maybe under th--the yarn's wiggling." She raises her head to repeat for everyone else's benefit, "The yarn's wiggling." Then she giggles at Caitlyn's time spent dedicated to her winged friends.

Trace has made his way down to the beach, with no particular path or point in mind, but only...being away and free from the bowl and cleaning for a little bit. A small trick and he's stuck scraping at rock for a week straight. It's not like letting a few frogs randomly loose is that bad a thing, ya know? The youth stops as he sees a group of people gathering, and he tilts his head slightly, blinking as he tries to see what's happening, but not wanting to get to close just yet. Instead he stops and stands back away, blinking a few times as he tries to view what's going on.

"I suppose it's possible - she gathered a few skeins I didn't recogn... er, that... er... new ones. Since she clutched." V'lano, once this fumbling is done, gives Nolee a sort of significant look, briefly grumpy, before he's reduced to playing go-fetch for the fish that his 'lizard left behind. "At least she provides," grumbles the Weyrleader, barehandedly scooping up fish both shredded and whole."

Caitlyn sketches R'tran a quick, sloppy salute, and a soft "Hiya, bronzerider. Ista duties," before eyeballing those 'balls of yarn' as they shiver and quiver. "Ohh jays, I really shouldn't..." she mutters to herself. As if to gainsay her, Book, Hider, and Morgan all begin to hum even more deeply - lifting their fast-wheeling, blue gazes in unison to their mistress - then chipiling and resuming the vigil around the basket. A small grin is given to Nolee, Cait bobbing her head in recognition of her well-trained trio. "YOU should make a try for one, Nolee."

Oh! Friends. Good. Because Sock can't keep up the humming; every few seconds she chokes on her own spit and goes all bug-eyed coughing, windmilling her wings and whirling her tail in an effort not to fall from the basket-handle onto her wobbling clutch. Caitlyn's critters get to keep up the better part of the chorus.

R'tran crouches just far enough from the basket that he can see the eggs rocking. Pulling the spiderclaws from his pocket and pulling the packet open, he grins up at Caitlyn, "And Fort's duties to Ista and her queens. So then, who does the dam look to?"

Nolee tilts her head, not understanding why she's being grumped at, and in a very mature fashion, rolls her eyes at that silly weyrleader. "Try for one? I used to have one, someplace, but he likes Nala better'n me. He doesn't even come when I call or fetch well or anything." Sigh: useless things. "Ooo, visitors?" She curtsies awkwardly, giving up on looking for yarn. "Ista's duties," she echoes, then joining in the effort to hum to encourage the pathetic clutchmother.

Caitlyn grins evilly to R'tran, then pokes a long, strong finger V'lanos direction - trying not to laugh as she watches her regal Weyrleader reduced to gawping around, looking for fish bits his little gold left behind. "That's the expectant surrogate father," she intones softly, then returning her eyes back to the pathetic Little Sock - who's gagging on her spittle. "Jays, is she *always* like that, Vel?"

Madge wanders closer when she realizes the reason for the gathering. Her eyebrows furrow together and she stops a short distance from, well, someone, eyeing the arrangement of 'yarn' and generally looking wary as wary can be.

Trace remains back a little still, trying to peer past the people, but not engaging in conversation or getting any closer, but instead just watching from a distance. His blue eyes widen a bit as he thinks he sees the happenings...but he doesn't move any closer, but instead takes a step back. No reason for him to really be there, is there? Just a troublemaker, after all...

V'lano comes back toward the basket with the fish, pausing by Caitlyn - he has shredded fish gathered in one hand, the whole fish in the other, each held carefully away from his clothes - to reply, "You mean a little bit mentally compromised?" He glances over with a dry, crooked smile toward his tiny queen. "Uh. Honestly, yes."

Kintryth is *quite* aware of those on the periphery, one slitted eye closest to the beach gazing serruptitiously at Trace and Madge on the sly.

Nolee sways a little back and forth to encourage the gold to hum, and takes a step closer to the downed shellfish abaondoned by Nalaieth and Kintryth earlier. She considers it, removes her sandal. It has stopped wiggling, and rolls closer at her nudge. "What's a sir gate?" she questions Caitlyn, including Trace in the conversation by virtue of proximity. "Is that like the one who has to brush the beasts after a new one is born?"

R'tran turns to Trace and, with a wink, hands the young man a bit of spiderclaw. He stage-whispers, "When the lil'uns hatch, just waggles this in their faces a bit..." he demonstrates, "...and you might take one home!" He chuckles at the exchange between Caitlyn and V'lano, calling to the latter, "She's a pretty, Sir. Bodes well for the younglings."

Fadra is, for once, alone on her trek to the beach - she's got her hands stuck in her pockets, her tread easy and leisurely in it's approach. Noticing the crowd gathered, the brownrider sticks her tongue out of her mouth, in an expression of disgust for whatever reason, and she makes her attempts to edge around the group instead of the shorter path: through it. In doing so, though, she nearly smacks right into the retreating Trace. Her response is gruff: "Move it." Then, sardonically to whoever she knows that might be close, "Some party you've got going here."

Caitlyn "ohhhhs" softly at Vel's words, her lips crooked in a gentle smile, now. "That makes her no less of a sweet pet and attentive mother," she murmurs throatily - suddenly wanting to reach out and pet the wee gold. But Cait knows better than to interrupt a brooding mom, and keeps her paws to herself... And is suddenly drawn to eye both young people on the outskirts, as Kintryth relays their presence to her. Smiling more broadly, the seated woman gently beckons them over with a slow motion of her arm.

"No less of a sweet pet, anyway," allows V'lano, who then carries the fish over to a point about four feet off from the basket. He lets the strips down onto the sand one by one so people can take them up the same way, then steps back and looks into his hands, where the unshredded fish remains, as though not sure what to do with it.

Caitlyn suddenly remembers she hasn't answered Nolee, and grins back at her friend seated nearby. "A *surrogate* is like a foster-parent, Nolee. Or a parent when the original one isn't there."

Painted Toy Ornament Egg twists out from beneath a tangle of gray yarn, the string tangling across its woodgrain surface, and develops a bit of a crack in the process.

Trace blinks as he nearly bumps into Fadra, "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to..." He says, then turns as he's addressed by yet another, R'tran. At the proffered spiderclaw, he reaches out to take it gingerly, looking at it carefully as he does so, then looking towards the eggs, looking uncertain, as if there's some inner dialogue going on. "I...don't know if I should." He says uncertainly to R'tran, looking at him uncertainly.

Madge has heard of these... /firelizard/ things. She spots the raw fish several people seem to be swarming around and sort of sidles that way. Because hey, these things are supposed to be useful. She grabs a whole handful of drippy gooey stuff, way too much more than she actually needs, and picks a post to crouch and wait.

"Ooooh," Nolee slowly responds, the thick gears turning in her tiny head. "Well, why didn't you just call him her foster-mum and have done with it?" She blinks bovinishly large brown eyes at the shellfish, poking it with her shoe. "If I can get those balls of eggs to move, maybe my yarn is under there." She considers poking the basket, but thinks better of it, rocking back on her heels instead and looking around at the crowd, smiling at Madge's gooey hand.

R'tran nods encouragingly to Trace, murmuring, "Well if you really don't want one, I'll take the spiderclaw back - that was my lunch!" He chortles, then peers a bit at the youngster. "You don't have a fair, lad? It's time you got yours started! Here... like this..." He waddles a little closer to the basket, still crouched, and wiggles the spiderclaw in his hand at the as-yet-unhatched egg.

Hand-Knit Ornament Egg :twists around among the yarn-balls and leans over to *clank* against the lone knitting needle, earning a sqwark of over-shoulder alarm from Little Sock.

Caitlyn giggles to Nolee, then nodding as she eyes the poor shellfish, which has come to either its end - or an exhausted rest - so near to her toes. "I have this proclivity...err, this wont, to use big words at times. Must come from having been a Harper for almost three Turns." Her own smile is turned on the gooey-handed Madge, and Cait, too, pokes the shellfish with her sandaled toe - again grinning over at the joke with Nolee.

V'lano, with his unmarred fish, notes the increasing movement in the basket with one raised brow - and starts sneaking backwards, head half-turned, sighting out a spot on the lee side of Nalaeith that he might be able to hide from little winged creatures in.

Rather bored with things at this time, Kintryth rolls that lazy, multifaceted eye over those attending the Hatching, and then out to the sea. His muzzle seems to pat the sand beneath it ocassionally - his movements sly and small - for a blue dragon.

Trace watches R'tran for another moment, even as the rider moves forwards towards the egg. He licks his lips a bit, then finally gets a little closer and drops to his knees, holding the spiderclaw out carefully in front of him, his blue eyes wide as he looks at the yarn...and what else is inside. As the egg moves he withdraws his hand for a moment, but then carefully puts his hand out once more. He watches R'tran, to make sure he's doing it right...it seems oddly similar to a dragon Hatching...but not quite.

Dragon> Nalaieth senses that Kintryth sighs like the lapping of incoming and outgoing waves, << There might not be enough fish for the little ones emerging to eat. >>

Madge is either unaware or uncaring of any looks she's getting. She has a handful of raw fish and not a care in the world, dang it. A few glances are cast around her now and again though, just to see what everyone /else/ is going in this particular situation. Not that she'd ever admit taking anyone else's lead. Pishaw.

Nolee laughs aloud as she and Caitlyn continue the earlier dragon-torture of the poor shellfish. "You were a harper?" she asks, as though such an idea had never occured to her in a million turns. "I thought you dug up rocks. Or beat on them. Or something like that." While she queries, she half looks at the basket, searching for her yarn. Nalaieth swishes her tail to one side, offering an uncertain hiding place, if V'lano dares.

Nalaieth> Kintryth senses that Nalaieth hesitantly reestablishes contact, smoke parting enough to reveal flecks of amber and the scent of a thick lavendar patch. << Perhaps you are right. >> Uncertainly, << But they can fend for themselves, can they not? >>

"Oh, I thought you knew," Caitlyn murmurs to Nolee, a little surprised. "Yes, it was my first avocatio...uh, choice of Craft. But my singing voice has no real projection to it, so i left...and moved to the Smiths and my jewelry. I used to look for pretty rocks before I went to the Harpers, and I wound up going back to my old hobby." Cait looks as pleased as punch about this.

Snow in the Islands Egg shivers, as if cold. Little Sock, now attentive to the basket, leaps up onto the edge of it, wings shaking to keep her balance upon the wicker edge, and leans down to nose the little white egg. Well, first she noses the ball of yarn next to it. But then she gets it right and noses the egg, which falls still again, apparently... comforted.

R'tran listens casually to the various conversations, wincing slightly as his calf muscles begin to ache. He clearly isn't as young as he used to be. He rises, kicks out each leg once, then crouches again.

Trace
A youth of what looks to be 12 years of age, and likely has yet to hit any growth spurts as he stands right around 5'. For his age he could be considered a little small, both in height and girth, but it only belies on the possibility of some hidden strength. Sandy blonde hair grows long and tangled, wavy but not curly, falling to just above his shoulders when let down, and seeming somewhat unkempt. It's generally kept tied up behind his head in a ponytail to keep it out of the way, and rarely is it let down. Light blue eyes look out from a face that shows his youth, a bit of baby fat still predominant though it's more then likely to burn off both face and body as he grows. He's neither overly handsome or ugly by general standards, but just a youthful cute with a likelihood of looking rather fair as he ages, his skin a nice tan color from being in the sun a lot.
His clothing is nothing remarkable, but likely by the looks of things is hand-me-downs. Tan colored tunic and work pants, patched in many spots giving it a myraid of shades, and just a bit to baggy for the youth. The belt is a different shade of tan from the rest, making it look just that much more odd, but it keeps the clothing on him at least. His boots are about the only thing that fit him, though by the wear it's more likely then not that they've been used by others before him as well.

V'lano looks up at Nalaeith from this angle. It's an impressive angle. "Uh," he remarks, low-voiced. "Thanks. I think." Wary, he steps around that swishing tail, trying to keep an eye on it while sneaking out of the way.

Snow in the Islands Egg trembles and shivers, flakes of shell falling like snow around it into the messy bundles of yarn in the basket. Then all at once it gives a final shake and dissolves into a slop of snowmelt and shell-shards, leaving a wet and shivering hatchling standing in the puddle.

A study of grays and browns gives his young firelizard a rough appearance. Like the myriad shades of bark, his body is covered with the irregular darkness of shadow, the soft soothing shades of wood and highlights of colorless shine. His limbs and spars are smooth as branches, the patchy hues fading into solid silver-brown. His sails are a tangle of bramble, rusty lines over subtle sands. His stately eyes are ringed with darkness, as are his neckridge, appearing almost like a series of secret hiding places all teaming with life.

Trace's eyes widen even more as the egg breaks and the little lizard plops out. He actually smiles a little bit...maybe it's...not so bad. He holds his hand with the bit of meat out in front of him still, but watches the others to make sure he's doing it right...not to close, right? He may like to cause trouble...but not here, not with this.

Nolee tilts her head, considering the bluerider's words while she watches the sandy-haired youth startle, then return, then watches the basket for any sign of her bluish gray yarn to emerge. Nearby, Nalaieth rumbles contentedly as her tail circles slowly back around the wary 'clutch foster dad': she has attempted to capture the Weyrleader. She croons at Kintryth as he unburies several bi-valves, pleased with his efforts. "He looks like stew!" Nolee announces.

Twists of Naked Branches Brown Hatchling gets nosed by Little Sock, who seems terribly concerned that her offspring might be cold. These tropical islands and their heatwaves. It's easy to be in danger of being cold. He creels as if annoyed and squirms out from beneath his mother's muzzle, trailing wet until he leaps down onto the sand, tumbling the landing. Reason for more creeling, and for wide hungry eyes whirling at the cruel world around him.

R'tran lets out an audible "Aaah" as the tiny lizard emerges from his shell, and he begins bouncing up and down on his haunches and energetically wiggling the spiderclaw. He casts a grin at Nolee, nodding, "he does! A fine herdbeast stew!" He leans downward and makes kissing noises in the creature's direction.

R'tran
R'tran's rusty locks hang haphazardly about his chin, nearly obscuring his intense brown eyes. He is clad in a typical rider's garments, with a weathered wherhide tunic bound at the waist by a well-tooled leather belt, hanging above pants which are, for some reason, brand new - even bearing some studly metal studding. The slightly faded braid at his shoulder announces his status as a Fort Weyr bronzerider. He is 39 Turns, 8 months, and 26 days old.
Carrying:
Ubiquitous Bottle of Benden Red

Madge tilts her head, her fistful of fish lowering slightly when that little... creature thing hatches. Somehow she expected more. Or less. Or something other than just pop, and then there's a little muddy winged thing just there. After considering, she shrugs and makes jerky motions with her arm. Tantalizing though it isn't, it's at least an offering, her seductive fish dance.

Silver Sequins Egg cracks apart, a thousand miniscule shards spraying out like the detritus of a shattered mirror. The goo within drains out into ruined skeins of yarn, and upon those ruins stands a fresh wet hatchling 'lizard.

Over this blue lies a mantle of ice, sheilding his hue in a colorless sheen. His neckridges are so pale they seem to glare in their own light. His wingsails are streaked and striated like a frozen lake. The meandering patterns of frosted glass spread across his thin body, all the way down to his icicle-tipped tail. There is something sharp about his build, all angles and edges, and it is mimicked in his movement as well, as though his little jerks and shivers were a side effect of a hide that looks so cold.

Kintryth wastes little time in assembling the bi-valves into a neat little pile near his mouth. A stretched-out neck and head slurps up a mouthfull of seawater, which the blue drolls over the pile to wash them basically clean. And again, with his usual punctuality, the blue mouths one of them...aims...and FIRE! "PTOOIE!" goes that palm-sized bi-valve...spat up and over into the midst of the human throng gathered. In quick succession, the other four follow it, raning down like tiny, meaty, shelled bombs.

M'duk joins the group around the eggs. He himself has nothing in his hands to offer. He looks around to the faces of those he recognizes with a smile and, "Hey!"

Glinting Icelight Blue Hatchling is another shivering, cold, pathetic creature who's getting nosed by Little Sock. Her nose, you see, has magic heating powers. Or magic, coax-nestlings-out-of-someone's-increasingly-ruined-yarn powers. It works: the little blue squirms and wriggles out from beneath his dam's careful attentions, and tumbles over the side of the basket onto the sand next to his brother.

Caitlyn again 'ooohs' at the little blue who emerged, gently clapping her hands together in glee - then pointing him out to Nolee. "He's like Ruatha's Ice Lake, or the one at 'Reaches!"

Riaceth returns from her long dive, her quarry in her jaws -- half of an extremely large something-or-other, which she tosses on the beach withoug further ado. "Perfect timing," Tegara says as she fishes out her belt knife and starts cutting strips from the carcass, which she casually tosses in the direction of the hatching basket. Whatever it is -- was -- it must be palatable because it looks as if Ria had taken care of the nasty half -- i.e. the head.

Caitlyn quickly gestures M'duk over, pointing out the pile of fish to him - then "AWK"ing loudly as she's nearly hit by an incoming, lobbed missle of shelled meat.

Nolee giggles at the Fortian bronzerider as Nalaieth ducks her head and above rains down Kintryth-spat bi-valves. Nolee puts her hands up over her head, using her shoe as a shield, leaving one of the extra-food offerings to bounce off and land on the ground. "Ouch!" she laughs. "Does he want one of his own, too?" Then a soft ooo as she vaguely nudges the fallen bivalve toward the fresh hatchling. "Hallo, M'duk. That one's pretty. Like glass."

V'lano is captured. The loop of the (large) queen's tail keeps him within sight of the crowd, but he could, perhaps, leap over and be behind her bulk, away from any hatchlings that might miraculously stumble his way. So he waits there, with the fish in his hands. Mm. Fish. Raw, slimy fish. Maybe it would be better to do this, so he does - nudge Nalaeith with a finger, then hold it out. Munchy?

M'duk approaches Caitlyn as she directs him over to the fish. Unfortunately, that same incoming shell is headed directly for him. As he leaps out of the way, his legs throw him in the direction of the pile of fish, landing face first with an, "Ooompf!"

Kintryth digs up yet another deep line of beach to his near side - incidentally now preventing V'lano from escaping unless he wishes to ford wet trenches (much less escape Nalaieth's tail). More shellfish are unearthed, and sent "PTOOIE"ing over in lobs to the humans.

Fadra is just quick enough to get hit in the head. Her precarious balance - perched on the balls of her feet in a neat crouch - is ruined by bewilderment, and in a second the brownrider is flopped down on her rear, with all the grace of someone who's been conked on the head. Whatever arrogance or ill-temper she had moments ago is increased tenfold now, with sand all over from her scramble to stay upright. With a look around - no one saw that, did they? - she's confronted with a falling M'duk, and now she's scrambling away to avoid him. "Graceful, aren't we." Her comment is dry, even as she starts forward to note the location of her dropped meat, shaking it free of sand.

/More/? Did Madge expect there to be just the one? Maybe. Whatever the case, she's shuffling forward very awkwardly on her splayed feet and stretching her arm out, thrusting it before a couple others. Her fist drips menacingly.

Twists of Naked Branches Brown Hatchling :sets out toward... life. It smells like life out there, and he moves along nose-first, wings trailing in the sand, head stretched up at full tilt. As he progresses he dries somewhat, so that he can whiff his way toward food. Tiny, dragonkin nostrils flare and narrow repeatedly, and tiny eyes whirl.

Nalaieth cranes her head around to better inspect her personal catch. Weyrleader. Hmm. Interesting. Her faceted eyes whirl interestedly, though grasping the tiny fish might be beyond her agility. Instead, she tosses her head back, pointing of a sort at Kintryth, the more agile, apparently, with his teeth.

Painted Toy Ornament Egg wobbles and rolls, upturning so a big red blotch is topside up. The hatchling within gives one final shove and up pops a green head, capped by that red blotch like a little wooden hat. A little wriggling and she's free.

Evergreen is the color of this little girl. She's a rather burly thing, prickled pine over lean muscle, and a bold energy seems to hang around her. Perhap it is in the quick strength of forest-shaded haunches or the spread of sturdy wings that appear speckled and striated with needles. Spruce settles over her back and the faintest hint of snow rests on her headknobs, neckridges and the wingspars, a delicate trace of pallor. Otherwise her color is robust and solid, the conniferous hue unchanging from her handsome face to the tip of her tail.

R'tran watches the little blue blinking in his first daylight, and he takes a bit more spiderclaw meat from his pouch and, with his other hand, begins to waggle it in the direction of the tiny creature, while still dangling his offering toward the brown. His eyes widen alarm briefly as M'duk takes his tumble, but seeing the other man is all right, he returns his attention to the matter at hand. Calling softly to Trace, he grins, "How's it going?"

Glinting Icelight Blue Hatchling gets up off of his rumpside and tries out these paws. All six of them. He stumbles along most inelegantly using his wingspars to crutch along the ground as well as his feet - only when he glances up, eyes whirling a bit faster at a nearby flash of something shellfishy, does he right those wings and flick them up into the air. Too wet still to fly, he uses them as windsails to assist his leap, and gets ahead of his brother and fresh-wet sister in this whole acquiring-food thing.

M'duk scrambles to pull himself out of the heap of fish, and hears Fadra's comment. "Without a doubt." But this isn't gonna stop him. He hops back onto his feet and grabs a handful of the fish his face was just so familiar with. With a shake of his head and a laugh to himself, he joins the crowd with an outstretched handful.

Trace glances at the others around him as they speak, but he doesn't pay much more attention then that, wriggling his bit of meet as his eager blue eyes move to look forward at the creatures again. As the blue hatches, Trace actually smiles a bit. Interesting...nice, actually. At the words from R'tran, his blue eyes glance sidewards and he nods slightly, "Okay." He says simply and quickly before he turns back to wriggle the meat as he sees others doing. Monkey see, monkey do?

Glinting Icelight Blue Hatchling stumbles towards R'tran.

Tegara thinks better of her fish -- or whatever it was -- tossing after seeing Kintryth's efforts knock over a couple of her wingmates, so she collects her seafood strips and picks her way amongst dragons and humans and deposits her contribution towards the Society for the Feeding of Hungry Firelizard Hatchlings near the basket.

Frosted Gingerbread Egg dances around amongst the balls of yarn, shaken by the hatchling within. But it seems to be losing dabs of icing, leaving behind clinging sticky bits of shell as it whirls and turns. In a moment more there's hardly a shell at all for all the scattered debris, and a round hatchling is left looking a bit confused, chewing on the edge of a shard.

He's a round, jolly fellow, this little creamy brown, delighted by life. His plump belly is a store of sodden chocolate, dark and smooth, while his flanks swirl with fluid pairing of warming brown and soft white. Froth pools about his throat and along his thick wingsails. Flecks of shimmer stretch from his stout headnobs to the tip of his sturdy tail. Despite his rotund build, he is just as ready for raucus play as he is for curled dozing, equally enamoured with all the comforts of a carefree life.

Kintryth is pleased with the further attention towards feeding the little ones his efforts have brought, and luckily for everyone assembled, quits his beachcombing for bi-valves, as all are now well-supplied. He too, eyes V'lano the caged, making meaty smacks of large, blue chops at the small fistfulls of fish the Weyrleader holds. He's a blue with the munchies, it seems. Whether he wants fish, or V'lano meat is left to the thoughts of his intended.

R'tran gasps as the tiny blue stumbles right to him, his tiny maw catching the spiderclaw and downing it in a gulp. *Yum!* Wanting more, the blue gazes upward into R'tran's eyes for a moment, creeling piteously, his wee neck wobbling back and forth as he tiny, bejeweled eyes whirl red. "More, you want more? Of course you do!" R'tran grins, delighted at his good fortune.

Twists of Naked Branches Brown Hatchling blinks the innermost set of eyelids as his little blue brother goes sailing past. Oh. That's how it's done? Hmf. Well, this little 'lizard's content to trundle along a little farther, a little farther - and then there's something annoying wriggling off to his side. He whips his head over and snaps at it, so someone better watch his fingers.

Nolee is laughing now at the hat on the dark green one's head. "She looks like a little's doll of a firelizard, dressed up in other doll's clothes." Then her wandering attention is drawn to the brown one with flaring nostrils, and she tries to imitate that for a few moments before being distracted by Tegara's approach. "Jays, it's a good thing their little claws don't hurt as much as the bigger ones's do. Oh, and watch out for those...things falling from the air."

Twists of Naked Branches Brown Hatchling stumbles towards Trace.

Madge huffs, slowly growing impatient even with this most simple of tasks. She's not the most dedicated of people. She flops back on her rear, leans forward on her bent legs and yawns.

One of those airborne bi-valves plummets to the beach right in front of Caitlyn, hitting the earth with a muffled 'thunk!', then rolling haphazardly until it rests between her and Nolee. "JAAAAYS, Kint!" she calls out with quiet intensity over her shoulder towards her dragon - who simply lies there, quiescent.

Boughs of Ever Green Hatchling :bypasses too-watchful Mom - who is busy busy overturning a ball of gray-blue yarn to make sure it'll hatch properly - and falls backward over the edge of the basket, landing on the back of her neck with a squeal. She overturns in a zip, huffing self-righteously, shivering all over to try to rid herself of sand. In a few moments she goes traipsing off (nobody saw that!) toward the commotion that is her new, non-yarn-infested world.

Since no one saw her fall, Fadra's content to shake the fish in her hand to free it of dirt - woe to anyone whose eyes are open and on the path of the small pebbles being forcefully detached. Hmphing shortly, Fadra stands to wipe off her pants, and then reassume a crouch. This time, though, there's extra security in the fingertips of one hand, that dig into the sand as a prop and keep her upright, in case another bi-valve has the ill sense to hit her in the head. Though she's now regarding the fish with disgust, and trying to wiggle the remaining, steadfast pieces of sand on it. "Git off," she insists of the dirt.

Trace turns his attention to R'tran as he sees the blue flap towards him. He smiles a little and nods to the rider, then lets out a yelp of surprise as the meat suddenly dissapears from his own fingers. Luckily his fingers are still intact and it only takes a moment to realize what happened. His face brightens even more as he reaches out to carefully scritch the brown, who trills a bit as he pushes his hand into Trace's hang, then chirps. "Food? Oh...food." He says, looking around quickly and snatching some fish off the ground to offer the brown, his attention having shifted from the rest of the eggs for the time being.

Swirled Cream and Cocoa Brown Hatchling rolls, just as he might have when he was still an egg, to the edge of the basket. There he pauses, unfurling his wings but not, yet, his other limbs; his tiny neck stretches out to peer over the side of the basket. Long way down!

Nolee blinks, startled, at the incoming bivalve rain, then just laughs. "He's helping! I think. Or attacking. I'm not sure which." She picks up the poor dragon-battered shellfish, then freezes it as the basket moves again. "Jays," she whispers, as though the yarn may indeed hatch and vanish forever. "I think that's my yarn. Get off it, you," she shakes a finger at the dark green one. "You'll get goo on it."

Blown Glass Ruby Egg slips between a couple of the balls of yarn and another egg into a deep spot left by the opening and disintegrating of the other eggs, then rests there in stately, red repose, glimmering in the shadows.

Starry Night Cross Stitch Egg pops rather abruptly open, dropping starry shell-bits into the depths of the basket. At first the remains of the opened egg seem empty, so dark is the exposed interior - but then a dark paw slides out, and another, and a head. In a moment the new hatchling has made her entrance, leaving her hollow shell behind.

Though her hide is as fine and smooth as any firelizard's, it's color is so deep and rich it seems as if it could be made of dense silken pile. Dark, fathomless emerald coats her plump form, a luxurious hue. It sparkles like jewels along her spiked neckridges and drapes like velvet's decadent splendor over her generous wingsails. Her faceted eyes are rimmed with darkness and the cant of her head gives her an often disdainful and disapproving look in the way it makes her look down her short snout at the world around her.

"Attacking," Fadra supplies helpfully for Nolee. "If'n he was helping, 'twould be far less painful." And for that, a glare over her shoulder towards the blue. Fearsome, that look.

Caitlyn sighs, rolling her expressive brown eyes, then smirking lopsidedly at Nolee. "Yeah, he *thinks* he's helping - but look at Fadra, and M'duk!" her hand covers her giggles as she lifts her chin at both brownriders. "You get conked on the noggin', 'duk?" the woman chirps up to her clutchmate. "Uhm...sorry Fadra," she mumbles to the prickly woman nearby.

Kintryth takes absolutely no note of that hellish gaze Fadra gives him. He's far too intent on eyeballing V'lano and Nalaieth.

Brighid wanders over curiously to join the crowd. She stops when she spots the hatchlings and remaining eggs, uttering a small oh of surprise. She looks around for a moment for an offering to the little firelizards and crowds in with everyone else just in time to see the latest hatching, "Aw... She's so cute!" The girl dangles an aquired piece of meat at the hatchlings, trying to get the attention of at least one.

R'tran's new blue, Ballou, grasps the rider's pants leg gingerly then, gathering courage, begins his climb, his tiny claws prickly against R'tran's skin as he makes his way up his arm to his shoulder, where the tiny hatchling creels directly into his new pet's ear. "All right, all right!" R'tran chuckles, stuffing more meat into the little mouth. He looks up, noticing that Trace has also Impressed. "Hey lad, well done! And on your first try, too! He's a beauty..."

M'duk hears the words from Caitlyn and shakes his head. "Not directly like Fadra, but he did make me choke on some fish scales." A face of disgust takes over. "What's with the shelling Cait!?"

V'lano is harmless. Yep. He has a fish. A fish that Nalaeith seems to be pointing toward... uh uh, says the shake of the Weyrleader's head. The young queen may not be nimble-toothed, but Kintryth does not, apparently, have his trust enough to eat from his hands. Instead the dark-curled man holds the fish up by the tail in one hand, signalling it with a swing at the blue - and then sends it sailing. Catch!

Nalaieth gently whuffs at V'lano's fish-holding hand, as though that might encourge him to hold it out just a leeeetle farther so Kintryth can snarf up the fishie he holds there. Ooo, even better! Kintryth's turn to try at toss-catch.

Kintryth is indeed of nimble mouth. That fish is nothing but a memory as is sails directly into his snapping maw - a mere speck devoured by that vast black hole.

Madge is watching Fadra, for whatever reason, now. Her hand reeks of fish and she's staring at a brownrider. No crazy here.

Caitlyn giggles as she sees her blue snap up something out of the air, then turning back to grin at M'duk. "He dug up some bi-valves, since he thought there wasn't enough fish for the hatchlings. He was too lazy to bring them over here...so he spit them over."

"Helping?" Tegara snaps. "More like targeting Dawnsflame riders, that's what." And her statement is punctuated by the *snap* of dragon jaws. Tegara looks at the basket, debating. Another firelizard -- just what she needs right now -- not. But she grabs a couple of strips of seafood, just in case.

Nolee wobbles the little shellfish around, trying to catch the attention of one of the hatchlings, but Kintryth's antics are so fascinating that she leaves off her efforts, fish dangling while she watches, bivalves momentarily forgotten, then she cheers. "Well done! He's much better at catch than Nala. She thinks it's too undignified."

Caitlyn gives Tegara a little eyeball roll, then appears to slip into a slightly thoughtful mode. "You know, he might just *be* targeting Dawnsflame riders. He's pretty exacting about our Threadfall drills, you know." Her blank face gives the rider no idea as to whether she's serious, or joking.

Swirled Cream and Cocoa Brown Hatchling seems almost to smile - his maw parts just so, and his eyes glimmer. His prey. It has moved. Moved from the inconvenient pile to a reachable hand... He puts down his feet and bends deep his haunches, then lets out his wings and with a mighty (mighty tiny) creel of triumph LEAPS. She, and her fishy strips of goodness, shall be his.

Swirled Cream and Cocoa Brown Hatchling stumbles towards Tegara.

"Kint thinks of it as a way to target practice, Nolee," Caitlyn chuckles.

Blown Glass Ruby Egg develops a long crack. A tiny creaking may be heard, the spine-shivering screeeeeak of glass against glass. Just as the squeak seems no longer tolerable the egg bursts open in a shattering of shards, revealing a puddle of goo and a fresh new hatchling.

Crackling coals, illuminated with rich reds, run from throat to tail to darken his belly. Charred wood with neckridges of gray ash line his back. This bronze is heated with the smoldering shades of metal and fire, an ever-glinting hide to match the restlessness of his spirit. This singed tail flickers endlessly, slowing with cozy comfort takes him, spreading over his tense, compact form when his fires burn brightest. His fine spars are wrought of iron, holding sails of clean translucent bronze that seems forever lit by dancing firelight.

Trace continues to feed his new brown 'lizard bits of fish carefully, watching his fingers carefully as the little one snatches tiny fish after tiny fish. At R'trans words, Trace looks over and smiles happily, "Thanks!" He says, obviously quite excited with the outcome. His attention quickly turns back to his new 'lizard as he continues to feed it.

Fadra wasn't hit on the head hard enough to miss someone staring at her. Madge's gaping is noted with a glance, in hopes that maybe she's just glanced over at the same time the girl decided to look at her. When she looks away, in time to see the bronze crack shell, she's got no time to admire his colouration. She's snapped her head back around, to dispel of the prickly feeling no doubt tickling the back of her neck from being stared at, and wants to know, "What /are/ y'lookin' at? I know I've got sand on m'clothes - but 'tis not so interesting y'have t'stare at me like I'm some sort o'amusement." Insert "THE LOOK" here.

Poor little Book, Hider, and Morgan keep up their full-throated humming throughout the hatching, one male taking up the slack when another has to rest for a moment. each newlyemerged babe gets a soft croon of encouragement, too.

Tegara's jaw drops as the brown latches onto the mystery meat strip dangling from her fingers. "You -- you -- you're hungry, you poor little thing." The strips in her hand are downed in short order and she grabs from the pile. "Look Laz -- it's Jaespyer, your new pal."

Lady's Sumptuous Velvet Green Hatchling delicately slides her front paws up onto a ball of yarn, then indelicately scrabbles the back ones up after, talons tearing unintentionally at the wool. A few tiny peeps and a helpful nosing from Little Sock send her bowling over the other side of the skein and clean out of the basket - unlike most of her siblings so far she has grace enough to flip open her wet wings and catch herself, sailing with relative grace to a stumbly landing in the sand.

Caitlyn points suddenly to the ever green little one, giggling softly. "Ooh, she caught herself! Nimble little critter..." Another light prod of Nolee's ide with her shoulder.

Boughs of Ever Green Hatchling has spent a little time just being alarmed at... the racket of it all. So many foods. So many... big things holding foods. It's hopeless. She lifts herself up with all due process and with a shrug that sends her little wings flickering, marches with a LOOK on her little bitty face up toward a squishy, fish-goo dripping fist.

Boughs of Ever Green Hatchling stumbles towards Madge.