Of hatchings at Telgar weyr, part 1
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Stretching along the eastern wall of the hatching cavern, these tiers of seats have enough room for several hundred spectators for Clutchings and Hatchings. To one side, long shallow steps descend to the entrance. There is also a railing separating the lowest tier of seats from the Hatching Sands themselves. Other parts of the galleries are closed off from the sands by a wall to the north and south. From here you can reenter the bowl, or follow the pathway down to the Sands.
The afternoon is quite cloudy, with only a few open patches through which the sun pokes. A light wind blows and the spring air feels a bit nippy.
Contents:
PLAYERS: C'len Tavrie R'hin Nolee Mahew Giremi R'layn Jaethe Gay
"Ah, Giremi, you're at Telgar, now?" C'len asks with a grin. "It's been--well, stressful, really, what with the 'Fall over the Hold." The rider looks around at the excited--and some scared--people nearby, lowering his voice, "But that's to be expected, I suppose. How've you been?" Spotting R'layn, the 'Reachian waves to him, before settling back into his seat a bit to do some more people-watching.
From the hatching sands, The candidates, in uniformed white robes, enter the shimmering Hatching Sands. One by one they bow to the proud parents, and move towards their places around the clutch.
From the hatching sands, The cerulean shell of the Ring of Ice egg shatters, giving way to a ethereal spring green. Decisive from the start, she trips her way over to a former smith apprentice and makes her claim. B'lor looks astonished and just manages to croak out, "Leyoth is hungry."
Gay manages to tear herself away from one particularly concerned envoy with an assurance that they'll talk after. "No, really - the eggs are about to - Yes, at the dinner. That would be best. Oh, look, did that one move?" Distracting the man, she turns to blink up at R'hin for a brief moment before she gets her bearings. "Weyrleader. Telgar's duties to Reaches." To Mahew, "And Harper Hall. It looks like they're coming out if you want to sit?"
From the hatching sands, Nebulous Clouds Egg has arrived.
From the hatching sands, Camerryn, his arm looped around Rilkie, winces as he steps onto the Sands. "Ouch! Shards, they weren't kidding!" And then there's Hatching, and Camerryn's eyes go wide.
From the hatching sands, Rainbow Night Egg has arrived.
From the hatching sands, Nebulous Clouds Egg wiggles and shimmies in its warm hollow of sand, but the excitement is almost tangible in the way it moves. It's nearly time!
Tavrie finds herself a seat a good distance from the others she entered with and props her chin in her hands, eyes glittering with good-natured eagerness. Every now and then, she follows the entrance of a new face, offering warm smiles in that mischevious way of hers.
From the hatching sands, Ronari squeezes Cyrra's hand as an egg shatters no sooner than they had set foot on the hot Sands. Her sandals aren't thick, and the heat is quickly becoming painful.
From the hatching sands, Graedin is easily the oldest in the group of white robes. And the most conspicuous, thanks to his very poorly thrown together robe. It's holding together, but by luck rather than design. He moves to join the circle, mincing his way across the hot sands and looking rather comical. He ends up near Ronari and Cyrra in the semicircle about the eggs, dragging Seramara with him. "Good luck," he offers, with a lopsided smile. "Just remember to watch your backs." He stands still for a long moment, watching eggs rock, and then shuffles his feet with a muffled curse. "Hot."
Giremi nods at C'len's question. "I am, just posted a couple of months ago from the Hall," the young harper replies. "Stressful here too. I'm looking up every Record I can to see if there's anything to help," he gestures out towards the Bowl and the presumed Records Room beyond. His own voice is quiet as well in answering the Reachian rider. Giremi settles into a seat just to one side of C'len and catches the sight of more Reaches knots, nodding politely. And there's a fellow Harper to wave to.
From the hatching sands, Seramara almost stumbles as she straightens from her bow in time to see B'lor and his green. "She didn't even *stop*, she just--oh, that egg's moving--I hope my parents are here--" When in doubt, babble. She's not even aware of the heat.
R'hin quickl makes his way through the crowd towards C'len, greeting the Wingleader with an easy nod. "C'len, good to see you. Have you met our new Harper?" he half gestures towards Mahew, glancing back towards the sands as some of the candidates begin to appear.
From the hatching sands, E'tyn stands by Nimiriel, the fretful fidget of his hands hidden behind his back. One might imagine he's one of the ones standing rather than vice versa. "Does it ever get less nerve-wracking?" He asks of the Weyrwoman.
From the hatching sands, Cyrra holds tight to Ronari's hand, looking rather pale. The young woman turns her head and looks at the eggs, then she scans the stands, frowning. "I wonder if Tiri is here...and father," she says softly to Ronari.
From the hatching sands, Rainbow Night Egg takes its time in coming to life--the slightest vibration visible only due to the sand it dislodges in its movements.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn trails along with the other candidates, picking her feet off gingerly from the hot sands. She settles into place on Seramara's other side. "Some of them really know what they want," she offers her "expert" advice.
From the hatching sands, At the back of the candidates is R'dur, jittering as he slips onto the sands and around the edges of the group, skirting the clutch itself. He bites his lower lip as he watches the first eggs start to hatch, and tears his eyes away to step over to join the Weyrleader. "Ma'am. E'tyn. Hi," he offers, before glancing quickly back to the candidates.
From the hatching sands, Rilkie moves out with Camerryn, eyes wide and scared as they make their way to the appointed place. Duties taken care of, she slips her arm free to claim his hand instead, clutching onto it for dear, wordless life. By her expression, it's clear her fear runs along the lines that if she opens her mouth, she may be sick.
From the hatching sands, Nimiriel rests a hand on Daelyth's side and grins over at E'tyn. "I suppose. This is the best part, if you ask me. Some of them are so fast, but others'll take their time, and those are the ones to watch. Especially the faces on the candidates they choose. They look like they've been hit in the back of the head with a board," she adds, laughing.
Mahew nods very briefly at C'len, entranced by the activity on the sands. He takes his seat and watches, rapt.
From the hatching sands, Nebulous Clouds Egg keeps on rocking, as the occupant within begins a fierce attempt at getting itself out of its confinement. Out, out, OUT! It still hasn't managed to make a dent in the thick shell, though it's not for lack of trying!
A the Reaches weyrleader and Mahew approach, Giremi vocalizes a greeting. "Harper's duties, sir," for R'hin and an actual smile for Mahew. "Hey Mahew - you walked the tables, congratulations!"
From the hatching sands, Camerryn winces as he moves along the sands. "Come on," he urges Rilkie, guiding her towards familiar faces: Graedin and Ronari. Cyrra and Seramara come by default. He gives Rilkie's hand a reassuring squeeze, and sets up a spot near the others. "Good spot, right? Now we can see the whole thing, easily."
Mahew stands and clasps Giremi's hand warmly. "I did - and..." He stops, entranced by the eggs hatching. Clearly, this is his first hatching.
From the hatching sands, Breena steps up quickly to B'lor and Leyoth, shaking her head and mumbling as she goes. "Never can wait til a body gets a good breath..." But the green and his lifemate are pointed toward the barracks, then she's back to wait for the next pair.
Giremi shakes Mahew's hand and then urges him to sit back down. "Just watch," he says with a chuckle and settles back himself.
From the hatching sands, Haisen stands slightly apart from the others, watching the eggs and worrying at her lower lip. Shifting her feet with growing discomfort on the sands, she keeps her eyes on the rocking eggs, gaze occasionally flicking to her fellow candidates.
The Istan weyrleader and weyrwoman arrive a little belatedly, but arrive they do. V'lano stops near the back of the galleries to gaze out over the rows below; in a moment he spies seats they might still slip into, and acquires Griere's acquiescence to them with a point. A little bit later they slide into place, eyes on the sands below.
After their Weyrleaders, an Istan contingent makes is way up into the galleries, Nolee among them. Missing the first impression, she's too busy fastidiously mounting the steps and chattering to her companions. "Jays, these are always more entertaining than when they happen at home. Less worry about what happens after, I suppose."
From the hatching sands, Dubious, E'tyn strives towards the placidity his Weyrwoman manages so well, and turns to skim the circle of candidates. In turn, a few eyes are caught drawing a tiny grin on the young Weyrleader's kind face. "I bet that's what I looked like," he notes, easing into his role a little better after the cursory glance over of candidates. "Hit over the head that is."
From the hatching sands, Ronari watches as some of the eggs begin to shake. Leaning over to Cyrra, she offers some reassurance. "I'm sure they are. They wouldn't miss this for the world." She smiles to her friend, gaining strength by reassuring someone else. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
From the hatching sands, Rainbow Night Egg is touched by a breeze, a gentle sway bringing the softly hued shell to life. Other than that, there is little else that draws much attention to this placid seeming egg.
Gay takes a seat up front as the Reaches Weyrleader and Mahew drift off, looking out at the Sands with a remarkably grave expression for the usually rather upbeat redhead. She tugs on a curl worriedly, watching the candidates as she leans forward.
From the hatching sands, At first, it almost seems as if the white speckles on the Nebulous Clouds Egg fall off first, but it's followed shortly thereafter by just about everything else. The egg shatters, leaving the Grace of a Predator Brown Hatchling sitting amongst the shards, looking startled but pleased.
Grace of a Predator Brown Hatchling
Predatory grace slinks down in ripples along this brown's lethal body, his sleek hide two-toned in a dominant citrine brown offset by widely uneven strokes of dark, rusted copper. Those striations peter out high on his neck until they exist merely as ghosts to shadow his sharply cut face, where thick ridges overshadow the gleam of keen eyes. Wickedly curved neckridges trail down his back to meet the strong juts of his wingspars, the ridges there smoothing out before they resume down the length of his lashing tail. Quite large, he wears his girth and length well, typically holding his massive form close to the ground, nigh on hugging it with his rotund belly and broad, proud chest. There is little dainty about him: even the wings that hang in opaque curtains from his spars are densely built, not lightly reckoned with.
From the hatching sands, Brilliance in Numbers Egg has arrived.
"And High Reaches' to Harper Hall," R'hin returns Giremi's greeting in kind, with a nod. His attention is, understandably, drawn back towards the hatching, murmuring under his breath as if keeping up a running sort of commentary.
From the hatching sands, Cyrra's eyes can't possibly get any bigger. She shifts from foot to foot, looking as if she wants to bolt off the sands. However, she remains rooted in place. Once again, she sweeps the stands with her gaze before focusing back on the eggs and closing them for just a moment to gulp.
From the hatching sands, Camerryn jumps, the recent Hatching brown having startled him. He gives him a good look, and shivers. "Oo. Watch out for him," he warns collectively, talking to hear himself talk. "He looks sneaky. And sly. And... dangerous."
From the hatching sands, The Rosetta Evening Egg fractures along those veins of scarlet, and the remaining shell pieces rain down upon the patchwork blue sitting there, looking puzzled. Driven by hunger, he hurries toward the candidates and finds his match in S'rean. "Lianth! He's Lianth!"
C'len grins, "Harper's all around. C'len, Vildaeth's rider," he says by way of introduction to Mahew. "R'hin, this is Giremi, Emilly's son. Grew up at High Reaches." He grows quieter as the activity picks up, candidates arriving, eggs growing active, and the sudden arrival of hatchlings on the sand. He does remark to Giremi, "We've been scouring the records at home, too," blowing out a long breath. "Nothing yet."
From the hatching sands, Seramara bobs her head in Olwyn's general direction. "Oh, I know, you just never expect such clumsy little things to go so *fast*." She tries a sympathetic smile in Cyrra's direction, but then the sleek little brown hatches, and her attention is totally diverted. "He's going to *pounce* somebody. Oh, well done Serean--S'rean!"
From the hatching sands, Graedin gawks at the brown. "I didn't know they'd be so /big/ at first." Forgetting to do th Candidate Shuffle for a moment he simply stares - "Lookit him. He's gonna be huge, I'd bet. - Wait, was tht another one? Who was it that got that blue?" He looks around to Cam and Seramara, missing it even the second time. "Who"
From the hatching sands, Grace of a Predator Brown Hatchling spares a smug look backwards at the remnants of his former prison, then slinks forward, wings spread wide to catch the heat of the hatching sands. His body is so low to the ground that said wings are nearly dragging, but he doesn't seem to care about that. His focus is on the semi-circle of Candidates and his quest for the one with whom he'll share his life.
And near the back of Nolee's group is Niklo, the youngest Istan goldrider trying to see everything at once and not trip on herself in the process. Not an easy task. Especially with the comments from all sides, which make her want to look up all the more. "Did somethin' happen?" the girl asks no on in particular, pausing mid-step to look towards the sands. Immediately a grin crosses her face. "Wow. Wasn't I jus' doin' that?"
From the hatching sands, Ronari says "S'rean." Ronari offers to Graedin, her wary eyes on the frightening brown hatchling."
From the hatching sands, Olwyn shifts back and forth, trying to keep from putting any one part of her feet on the hot sands for too long. She watches the dragons carefully as they hatch, nodding to Seramara. "Yeah, they can. That's why you've got to be careful and stay alert, so you don't accidentally end up between one and the person it wants to Impress. That's when accidents happen."
From the hatching sands, Breena hustles S'rean's way next, careful to avoid the brown who's searching, and the eggs that are wobbling. "He's lovely--Sonaith'll love that coloring. Come this way, now, I'm sure she's hungry."
From the hatching sands, Haisen shuffles around a bit more, her too-warm feet bringing her inexplicably closer to the others. Well, somewhere in the vicinity Camerryn to be more precise, although she doesn't do more than stand there and keep a watchful eye on where that predatory brown is headed.
From the hatching sands, Brilliance in Numbers Egg rocks feebly, just a faint quiver that's hardly noticeable, especially considering the goings-on around it. After that one little motion, its occupant is very still, waiting as though it had never begun to shake.
From the hatching sands, E'tyn notes in a wry aside for Nimiriel, "Some of them know so quickly. Some of them wander. Choosy." His fretful hands finally shove into the pockets of his trousers to still.
"Emilly's?" R'hin's interest in Giremi is renewed by C'len's comment, turning to glance anew at the harper. "I wouldn't have guessed. And at Telgar now. I'd try and entice you to High Reaches but," a sidelong glance at Mahew, pointed dryness in his tone, "It seems we've already received our new Harper."
From the hatching sands, Camerryn is on edge, noticably. When Haisen scoots, he notices. He gives her a flickering glance, and then a smile. "Thought you were a Hatchling," he teases, grinning. "Nervouse?" He gives Rilkie's hand another squeeze, just 'cause.
From the hatching sands, The luminous softness of the Rainbow Night egg continues to sway dreamily from side to side, picking up speed with time until it's not quite so much dreamy as frenetic. Pieces of indigo and rose shed and a slender midnight talon pokes visibly while lithe shoulders and a persistent head crash through the remnant shell.
Water's Embrace Green Hatchling
Liquidity radiates in every movement, every dreamy turn of this slender green, as a wash of crystalline water cascades over her body in a loving embrace. The veil of ocean's blue provides a sense of sparkling depth to the olivine seaweed that is predominant across her hide, setting off the shadows of her girlish curves clearly from the length of a meandrous tail and rising high up the supple arc of her neck. Foam caps, a pale offset to her dark shading splash in an indecorous fashion over her eyeridges, careless of how it might bely her whimsical nature, and mark a more translucent path down the narrowness of her maw. An air of feminine delicacy flickers in narrow wings and slim limbs while prisms cast in the pensive glow of her eyes speak of a curiosity that lurks beneath her gentle shell.
"Nothing here either," replies Giremi quietly to C'len. "I've been up late most nights going through without much luck." He favors R'hin with a smile at C'len's introduction. "Got the hair and the height," he notes, "and not much else. My grandmother's here," is the semblance of a reply for R'hin's remark about enticement to the Reaches.
Tavrie spots Ronari and calls out, if futily, "Be calm, Ronari!" Then she settles again, though it would seem like she can't sit still. Brown eyes shift to E'tyn, and she smiles despite herself.
From the hatching sands, Ring of Fire Egg has arrived.
Mahew has already learned not to be offended by R'hin's barbs. He smiles broadly at Giremi and gives him a knowing wink before resuming his watching of the hatching.
From the hatching sands, Grace of a Predator Brown Hatchling's tail lashes back and forth in the hot sands as he moves, leaving a cleared path behind him. No sense looking back, though--today, there's only moving forward! There's a surprising amount of grace, for such a large-framed dragonet, and given with the bounce in his step, it's evident that he'll be quite the handful. His path around the sands pauses now, and he stays in that low crouch, studying the figures in white robes.
Brow furrowing, Gay tears her attention off the action down below from time to time to scan the crowd filling the tiers of seats, trying to pick people out - while at the same time, trying not to miss anything on the sands. Unsurprisingly, she's not particularly successful at either, but she does make the effort.
From the hatching sands, Rilkie squeezes back, and finally manages to speak, as she watches the hatchlings dart around and choose their lifemates. "It's so intense down here..." She murmers, just loud enough for Camerryn.
Nolee agrees, smiling toward the new Istan graduate, "You did! Seems like just yesterday. Or maybe last sevenday, at least." She scoots between a few rows, stepping on some toes here and there, gestures Niklo along with her, and finally finds a seat. "Look, Nikki, one hatched!" Nolee tries, botching the young goldrider's name. Alas.
From the hatching sands, Ronari sees the newest Hatchling to emerge and points her out to Cyrra. "Oh look! She's beautiful!"
From the hatching sands, Nimiriel is still as relaxed as only more than four decades of hatchings can make a person. "Some of them do have an easier time. Even the ones that take longer seem just as happy, though, in the end."
From the hatching sands, Haisen admits a reluctant and somewhat growly, "A bit." to Camerryn, arms coming to fold loosely over her chest again while she watches. Even if she doesn't quite look as nervous as she feels, she doesn't seem particularly inclined to be talkative, either. The newest hatchling is eyed warily and her feet continue to shuffle on the heated sands.
From the hatching sands, Brilliance in Numbers Egg shudders again, the movement lasting longer and becoming bolder now. There's no pretending now that the egg isn't on the move, as it seesaws from one side to the other impatiently.
From the hatching sands, Water's Embrace Green Hatchling's head crashes through the shell, followed shortly by her body that lands in a clumsy heap on Telgar's hatching sands. It takes the newborn green a little while to gather herself up, during which her head cants about trilling her creel of irritation for all to hear. Then, very slowly, do her back legs and forelimbs come together to push herself standing.
From the hatching sands, Seramara is trying to watch that brown without actually *watching* him. One does not look a predator in the eye. "Well, I'll dodge if he comes near *me*," she answers Olwyn. "He'd better play nice if I'm the one he wants. What a *beautiful* green!" That one she looks at straight-on, wide-eyed wondering.
From the hatching sands, Cyrra nods her head in answer to Ronari. "She is," the teen murmurs, ending up sounding rather squeaky. The coltish girl lifts one foot to scratch at the back of her leg nervously.
From the hatching sands, Graedin still looks puzzled. "S'rean - Oh! Sorean!" He cranks his next for a moment to look after said young man and his blue, before shuffling his feet again. "Shells, I'm burning the tar out of my feet." He misses the hatching of the Water's Embrace green as he squeezes Sera's hand reassuringly. "Goin' faster than I thought."
From the hatching sands, Cyrra nods her head in answer to Ronari. "She is," the teen murmurs, ending up sounding rather squeaky. The coltish girl lifts one foot to scratch at the back of her leg nervously.
From the hatching sands, Graedin still looks puzzled. "S'rean - Oh! Sorean!" He cranks his next for a moment to look after said young man and his blue, before shuffling his feet again. "Shells, I'm burning the tar out of my feet." He misses the hatching of the Water's Embrace green as he squeezes Sera's hand reassuringly. "Goin' faster than I thought."
From the hatching sands, Camerryn nods his head, a silent answer for Rilkie. His eyes are for the Hatchlings only, and their movements upon the Sands. As the brown stops, he relaxes, but only long enough to see the green. "Suddenly I'm glad the sands are hot - keeps me awake!" Not like he could sleep through this! He grins at Haisen, sparing her the briefest of glances. "Really? You?! I'm shocked!" And then he's wigging his free hand. "If you get too nervouse, you can hold my hand." If *she's* nervouse.. not him. Of course not him...
From the hatching sands, The Lunar Explosion egg explodes spectacularly, raining the closest candidates to it in a shower of fragmented shells. Lucky for the green of two left feet that emerges, one of those close by is who she bonds with immediately, though not until after she's sprawled in a comical way at the girl's feet. "Wohnsooth," the bright-eyed, near tearful harper says. "I am *your* Hespra."
R'hin gives a low chuckle, and one might get the sense he's pleased by Mahew's reaction. "Ah, well, family," he agrees knowingly with Giremi. "Perhaps in a few Turns," he adds, settling back into his seat.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn grins sidelong at the other candidate. "I don't think you need to worry if you're his intended. I've never seen a dragon even accidentally hurt the person it Impresses." She follows the gaze of the other girls to the newly-hatched green and nods. "She is. They all are, but she does seem to have an extra special shine."
Niklo's grinning wildly now, but she's still very careful to avoid toes, heads, and other various bits of people that might be sticking into the aisle as she finds a seat for herself. "Shards, they start kinda small," is her comment, a half-smirk on her face, "But sure don't stay that way. Can't help wonderin' if they," a nod to the candidates on the sands, "got any idead what they're gettin' into?"
From the hatching sands, Ring of Fire Egg has remained silent and still amidst the other noisily hatching eggs, until the dragonet within has finally had enough. A mighty *crack* starts a flurry of activity, and it rolls end over end a time or two before it stops.
From the hatching sands, Grace of a Predator Brown Hatchling starts forward again, a quick run, his selection apparently made. An off key bugle of excitement sounds once he finds her--here she is! Yep, this one's the one for him, and he gazes up at his tanned, blonde haired partner-to-be with no small amount of adoration.
Mahew gapes at the enormous brown hatchling, amazed by the Impression process.