Vignette: That's no firelizard egg--!
Date: Day 22, Month 3, Turn 25 of Interval 10 (late-night)
Summary: Following the day of too-much-fun in the sun, Taikrin is just trying to get some sleep, honest... but those eggs have other thoughts.
It was late. Really late. Maybe even so late that it was early.
Taikrin wasn't asleep, precisely, though not from lack of trying. The day's exertions in the unfamiliar sun had left her skin red and painful. Combined with the frighteningly large amount of alcohol she'd managed to consume, she felt limp, wrung out, and utterly too pained for actual sleep.
For what seemed like the thousandth time that night, she threw off the heavier of her sleeping furs in an attempt to cool her raw skin, and was just in the process of beating her pillow into submission when Szadath's cool mind brushed against her own.
<< Something moved, just now. By the hearth. >>
"By the--? Scorch it!" Blearily, Taikrin tumbled out of bed to half-crawl across the floor of her weyr towards the low-burning fire. There was a basket placed there, piled high with sand, containing three tiny, palely mottled eggs.
Well, two eggs and some scattered shell fragments.
Cursing fluently just under her breath, she pawed blindly all around the basket, as if to snatch at the errant hatchling. "Did you see where it went? What happened? What color was it?"
Szadath's huge head drifted over from his couch, two lids still hanging heavily over his muted gaze. << I thought I saw it go into the corner. It looked... strange. >>
"Well bloody flaming shells, Szad! Why are they scorching hatching now? I'm not ready! They're supposed t'go to my bloody /sisters/. Wait, shit-- this one's going too!"
Sure enough, though both eggs were rocking steadily, the one closest to Taikrin was beginning to spiderweb with cracks. No sooner had she snatched it up, cupped protectively in the palm of her hands, then it exploded into a rain of shards.
Taikrin stared at the hatchling.
The hatchling stared at Taikrin.
The brownrider bellowed in shock, attempting to fling away the mottled tunnelsnake hatchling, which did the only sane thing a confused tunnelsnake hatchling knows to do: latched onto her hand with its teeth. This set Szadath to roaring, wings flaring in a room far too small for such antics as he tried to get at the offending creature. Bits of dust and dirt rained from the ceiling as Taikrin fumbled at her hand, still shrieking obscenities at the gamely-clinging hatchling.
In a mad attempt to dislodge it, she jumped to her feet and began wildly flinging her arm in every direction. Exhaution and pain robbed her of her normal grace, and with an inelegant twist she tripped, barking one sunburned leg sharply against the wooden frame of the bed, followed quickly by her knee and elbow.
Sensing freedom, the tunnelsnake abruptly unlatched its jaws and scurried off into the darkness of the corners of the weyr, leaving Taikrin to lay, stunned, on the cold stone floor.
"Szadath."
The sound of his rider's voice, hoarse and disoriented as it was, caused Szadath to pause in his frenzy to get un-stuck from the passageway separating the couch from the rest of the weyr. He lowered his head, carefully, as far as it would go, and too-quietly offered, << Taikrin? >>
"Was that a tunnelsnake?"
<< Yes, Taikrin. >>
"And the other two eggs? >>
By now the last egg had also broken shell, its inhabitent scurrying into the dark corners without a ruckus.
<< Them too, looks like. >>
"Oh."
There was a pregnant pause, during which Taikrin didn't even bother to attempt to collect herself from her sprawl on the floor. Then: "Please kill me now."
Summary: Following the day of too-much-fun in the sun, Taikrin is just trying to get some sleep, honest... but those eggs have other thoughts.
It was late. Really late. Maybe even so late that it was early.
Taikrin wasn't asleep, precisely, though not from lack of trying. The day's exertions in the unfamiliar sun had left her skin red and painful. Combined with the frighteningly large amount of alcohol she'd managed to consume, she felt limp, wrung out, and utterly too pained for actual sleep.
For what seemed like the thousandth time that night, she threw off the heavier of her sleeping furs in an attempt to cool her raw skin, and was just in the process of beating her pillow into submission when Szadath's cool mind brushed against her own.
<< Something moved, just now. By the hearth. >>
"By the--? Scorch it!" Blearily, Taikrin tumbled out of bed to half-crawl across the floor of her weyr towards the low-burning fire. There was a basket placed there, piled high with sand, containing three tiny, palely mottled eggs.
Well, two eggs and some scattered shell fragments.
Cursing fluently just under her breath, she pawed blindly all around the basket, as if to snatch at the errant hatchling. "Did you see where it went? What happened? What color was it?"
Szadath's huge head drifted over from his couch, two lids still hanging heavily over his muted gaze. << I thought I saw it go into the corner. It looked... strange. >>
"Well bloody flaming shells, Szad! Why are they scorching hatching now? I'm not ready! They're supposed t'go to my bloody /sisters/. Wait, shit-- this one's going too!"
Sure enough, though both eggs were rocking steadily, the one closest to Taikrin was beginning to spiderweb with cracks. No sooner had she snatched it up, cupped protectively in the palm of her hands, then it exploded into a rain of shards.
Taikrin stared at the hatchling.
The hatchling stared at Taikrin.
The brownrider bellowed in shock, attempting to fling away the mottled tunnelsnake hatchling, which did the only sane thing a confused tunnelsnake hatchling knows to do: latched onto her hand with its teeth. This set Szadath to roaring, wings flaring in a room far too small for such antics as he tried to get at the offending creature. Bits of dust and dirt rained from the ceiling as Taikrin fumbled at her hand, still shrieking obscenities at the gamely-clinging hatchling.
In a mad attempt to dislodge it, she jumped to her feet and began wildly flinging her arm in every direction. Exhaution and pain robbed her of her normal grace, and with an inelegant twist she tripped, barking one sunburned leg sharply against the wooden frame of the bed, followed quickly by her knee and elbow.
Sensing freedom, the tunnelsnake abruptly unlatched its jaws and scurried off into the darkness of the corners of the weyr, leaving Taikrin to lay, stunned, on the cold stone floor.
"Szadath."
The sound of his rider's voice, hoarse and disoriented as it was, caused Szadath to pause in his frenzy to get un-stuck from the passageway separating the couch from the rest of the weyr. He lowered his head, carefully, as far as it would go, and too-quietly offered, << Taikrin? >>
"Was that a tunnelsnake?"
<< Yes, Taikrin. >>
"And the other two eggs? >>
By now the last egg had also broken shell, its inhabitent scurrying into the dark corners without a ruckus.
<< Them too, looks like. >>
"Oh."
There was a pregnant pause, during which Taikrin didn't even bother to attempt to collect herself from her sprawl on the floor. Then: "Please kill me now."