Fort Weyr's Fall 2001 Hatching (Part 4)

Fort Weyr's Fall 2001 Hatching (Part 4)
Friday, October 26, 2001

Gold Suyinth & Bronze Yevgeth

The World of Pern(tm) copyright (c) 1967 by Anne McCaffrey.
The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

Log courtesy of Siani
POV from the Galleries
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Ethan takes another drink from his mug, notes that the container is empty, and then huffs slightly as he leans over and picks up the skin once more. "Since my dealings with Fort have been more propitious, I think I should be able to start soon with them. Who knows... perhaps with this current weyrling group." Balancing the cup between his knees, he pours another helping and then glances at Caitlin, gesturing with the skin with silent inquiry.

M'hail skitters cautiously down from the viewing ledges.

From the sands, And just as the Illusion egg is comfortable to sit back and watch, so is Razel. Though, she does move around a bit, in order to save her poor feet from direct and steady contact with the hot sands. As Cera and Zanoot impress, she hugs herself tighter and smiles. A few more gone... Oh to have snack foods whilst watching such entertainment. She bets the heat here could fry an egg up nicely....

From the sands, Z'oot glances into the eyes of the brown and smiles. �Come Galahath, we shall find food and shelter.�

From the sands, C'ra blinks several times and stares at the dragonet before her. Yes, just stares. Then, finally, she nods. "Drustanth..." she murmurs softly. Oh, shards! Falling to her knees, Cera blinks again, reaching out to press a hand against the blue dragonet, and she even smiles.

From the sands, Taire frowns as apparently she didn't wave to Cera quick enough, seeing as a blue just claimed her. She stands, mystified at the sight with mouth agape. "Sweet Faranth, ain't nobody is safe." Managing to close her yap with a *pop*, she glance to Fyne, giving his hand a couple of squeezing tugs for fortification.

From the sands, V'len turns with surprised but happy eyes to P'tala. "A big, buff man?" Oh... V'zan. Sigh.

From the sands, Another candidate lost to weyrling-ism. Cera-- now C'ra --is cheered and congratulated as Luchesi ambles for a better position. And Zanoot, too. The candies are gettin' picked off.

From the sands, Aryion cheers as Cera impresses the blue, before turning to look at Gabby and stick his tongue out at her. "Yes, I see that Gabby, Cera got the blue and Zanoot got the brown. Congrats Cera!" Cheering over he glances around, trying to locate the other blue on the sands.

From the sands, Neil actually stares. "Woh." He looks to Cera-- C'ra-- and murmurs, "Look, another'o the Weavers..."

Caitlin holds out her mug, always happy with a refill and she nods "perhaps so then Xanadu can see how successful it is and want to start it up themselves." She smiles "Perhaps, start their training off early before they get bad habits and become lazy riders." She winks teasingly, many of her friends are riders but she cannot help baiting people.

From the sands, Subtle, smooth fire suddenly transforms: Burning Coals' Challenge Egg shivers gently, then jerks into powerful spasms, falling still after an instant of shaking, but that movement calls in a storm.

Keliana smiles broadly, "Drustanth, what a perfect name. Oh, congrats Cer- er, C'ra."

From the sands, V'zan flexes unconsciously at the comment, then blushes brightly when he realizes what he's doing.

From the sands, L'lia escapes the heat of the sands.

From the sands, The surface of Burning Coals' Challenge Egg seems to blacken and roil: Stygian depths devour the scarlet coals, eating away at the heat and serene glow and camouflaging spiderweb cracks running races along the shell's nadir. A ferocious shove reveals an urgent claw, withdrawing and again attacking the inside of its fragile domicile. The charred crimson yields to another purity; life is revealed from the depths of the fire.

From the sands, Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet
From the sands, A masquerade of color waltzes haphazardly through a deciduous forest, filtered sunlight drenching warm viridescence amongst camouflage streaks of loam and olive hide. Light-footed pixie reels scatter bits of lime and lemon down and along her spine and endlessly flicking tail, whilst invasively catching a gleeful hold on the base of solemn ivy wingspars. Rampantly, the playful sylvan and citrine shades vie for attention on her body, but it is the wingsails, cloaked in a regal pine, that dominates her appearance in the end.

From the sands, Nonam gives a thumbs up to Z'oot, and then calls out to C'ra. "Congratulations Cera!   And...and..Drustanth!"   Then he leans in to Fyne, Taire, and 'Nial. "Don't worry, there are still plenty of dragons out there for you guys. Hey, there might be some bronzes."   Oh, like that's what they want, right?

From the sands, Fated Igraine Blue Dragonet breathes deeply, drawing in his courage as he makes his way for the candidates. One of them seems more.. well, dramatic then the others. Maybe, just maybe that's the right one. The right way. So off he goes, seeking. Still a bit unsteady on his feet, but more than willing to shuffle through the sand.

From the sands, Maeko flaps a hand in a weak attempt at fanning herself, barely raising the wisps of hair upon her forehead. The 'halo' of mussed frizz has returned to border her cheeks, and she grins happily. "Oh, Cera too! Wonderful. What's the name? Drus.. something? Er. Couldn't hear." Oh, she'll get it eventually. Don't worry. Glance to Razel, and she blows a raspberry as an imitation sigh. "Still hungry?" Attention is drawn as one of the fiery eggs hatches green, and then /she's/ the enthralled one. "Hey! Green. I like green." Yay.

From the sands, S'lan steps back out to the sands where the pairings all now seem to be coming at a quicker pace and escorts the new riders and dragons over to where the others are so they can begin their new life and training.

From the sands, C'ra shakes her head at Drustanth, then blinks as someone else approaches. "Wha? Huh?" Oh! Over there! Yeah! Smiling at the little blue, Cera stands, and ushers the little thing forth. "Come on... they've got to have food."

From the sands, Gabriela has developed a habit of giving Maeko, Razel and Aryion a running commentary. She can't help it; it's either that or bite her fingernails, and she hardly has any nails left. She looks toward the blue and bites her lip. "He's moving..." Hearing another crack, she quickly looks toward the other. "Oh, there's a lovely green," she whispers. She shakes her head at Maeko, wrinkling her forehead. "Can't remember... Something with a D, I think."

Zeya leans towards the edge, the blue eyed, Aryion eyed, "Oh Please." she just repeats.

From the sands, Holly is pointing, first to the right, then the left. "She impressed! And ... she impressed, too!" The girl is just a wizard of the obvious. "I'm going to write this all down when I get back home. I'm going to start on a song right away! Oh, what rhymes with dragon? Wagon? Sag on? Hmmm..."

From the sands, Fynelox looks upwards at Nonam and makes a shaky grin. "I think you're missing the point here." he tells the man. "We're hoping to go unnoticed." Well that was the plan at least. He squeezes the hand in his again, gulping as another green joins the ones still roaming about on the sands.

From the sands, They seem to be going right and left now. Anki looks at the rapidly thinning group and, smiling, shakes her head. "Shards, never thought Cera would Impress after the way she talked about dragonriders. Now she /is/ one."

From the sands, That's the plan by which Neil goes for. And he nudges Holly as she points. "Shush. You'll call attention to us!"

From the sands, Aryion beams, "Green is another beauty. All of these dragonets have been lovely actually. I missed the name too, ah well, we shall hear it later I am sure." He grins at the girls around them offering a encouraging wink to each. Now where is that other blue going too, Ary peers around trying to find himM'hail smiles as C'ra Impresses the blue dragon, a small sigh escaping his lips as he relives the moment when the fastidious Eurydath chose the tall and scruffy herder apprentice.

From the sands, Menacion peers around. The ranks of the female candidates look to be well-nigh decimated. They're probably going to start taking the guys now...time to drift over towards that other, larger group. Thanial and company. Safety in numbers. Not that he's worried about Impressing. No sirree. Logic is on his side. But logic seems a thin defense against those hatchlings. Best to have people to throw. Like Fyne. Small boy. Light.. (snack for hatchlings).

From the sands, Pinnacled Spires Egg rumbles from its foundations, shaking the dark earth around it. Cracks begin at the highest towers, snapping from the battlements down to the front gate. In the end, all that is revealed is the one who was only a visitor in this house.

From the sands, Selfless Gawain Brown Dragonet
From the sands, Late autumn drowns this dragonet in darkened bark hues, which from the road and trail cover him in the dirt of travel. And it's travel that he's built for, from the strength of muscle beneath each armored wing that lends to fine endurance, to the certain tilt of his nose that tells which direction to turn. Somewhat stocky, with a shortened soil-coloured tail, he is broad and brave and brown; an honestly open sight. Yet into his firm claws and along the edge of his wide neck, some rust has crept in spreading patterns.

From the sands, Ignoble Eidolon Egg lays still. Very very still. Time? No, but soon. The heat of the moment ripples like a pulse through the crimson bolts across textured shell. Not...yet...

From the sands, Thanial eyes the green, Faranth, they just keep popping up. Nodding with Fynelox, Nonam is given a withering look. "Hey mister brilliant herder man, why don't you try to attract that green to you." Snigger. "I'd love to see you on green, Nonam." Licking his lips, they're dry from the heat, he adds, "Then you can get close and personal to M'lan. Or the blue, go for the blue. Then you can know T'var in a whole new light." Clutching Taire's fingers, he blinks. Another brown. Aiee. They're being inundated. Silly Nial, what else did he expect at a Hatching?

Zeya can hardly hold it in anymore, "C'mon Ary!! That blue is perfect!!" so she loves blues.....

From the sands, Fortune's Beckoning Egg is quiet, garnering strength. The time is coming closer. Although still, the life inside seems to throb almost visibly.

Alizriel whoops as she watches the girl named Cera Impresses the blue. Well, her voice seems to be back in full force now. But she is choked off with the sudden tail noose of Delcan as he chitters excitedly at the arrival of the green dragonet. She laughs and shakes her head, loosening the tail with her fingers. Glancing to the remaining eggs and another new dragonet, brown she notices- she wonders when Ary would make his move.

M'dan smugly comments, "Well, yet another handsome brown. First that Z'oot and her Galahath, now another. Always nice to have a few browns around." to kick around all the time and send on 'errands'.

There is a growl of warning in Ethan's voice, even as he tops her mug and recaps the skin, returning it to the floor once more. "You know as well as I that all they seem to do is sit around in their weyrs. Though you have the truth of it. I had a... less than pleasant meeting with the Xanadu Weyrleader. Perhaps if they see how well it works here in the north, they will adopt it south as well."

From the sands, Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet lifts her head, and that first emergence is like sunlight over a crimson horizon, the snug home leaving her shuddering in unfamiliarity. Putting a bold face on, she stumbles forward a few steps before creeling, loud and strong. Alone in a crowd never had a more potent meaning, than the despair lilt in the green's cry, then silence.

From the sands, Nonam pokes Thanial in the back. "Hey, I'm a healer, OK?"   Herder. Sheesh. "And I told you both. I'm too old to Impress. So you need to go and give it a chance.   I mean...I hear it's supposed to be pretty wonderful. And if you get hurt, you've got me here to patch you up, and give you moral support

From the sands, Thanial waves his hand, "Healer, herder... same thing." So says the un-crafted boy.

From the sands, Aryion gazes around amazed. "There is another brown that has hatched, look there. Where did that blue one go?" He asks the girls, "anyone see where he is?" Hair is starting to get fairly wet from sweating, Ary notices as he runs his fingers through the white and auburn mass, trying to keep it back over his shoulders and out of the way. "Oh that green is so, sad looking."

From the sands, Gabriela peers toward Holly, raising an eyebrow and mumbling, "Oookay..." She nods quickly at Aryion's words, grinning before shaking her head quickly. "So many... Oh, he is quite handsome, that brown..." She smiles happily, despite the sweat rolling down her arms, face, and neck. She raises an eyebrow toward the green. "Oh, poor thing..."

From the sands, "Brown, too!" Maeko's gleeful, and she hops back and forth, foot to foot. "That green's bee-yooo-tiful. Such bright marks!" Such sharp teeth you have, grandma. Attention wavers for a moment, and she nudges Aryion again. "There's a brown," she states again. "You like brown? Or d'you prefer that blue?" Eyes peer, that blue's still around, isn't he? Somewhere. The cry catches her ears, and her exuberance falls at the sound; standing planted in the sand, her feet feel the heat all the more strongly. "She's sad!" Eyes turn to Gaby; why? Can you tell her why? Maybe Ary will know. Why?

From the sands, Menacion sidles up next to Thanial. "Nonam on green? I concur. Let's push him in front of us." He suggests. Another barrier between Menace and a dragon is always appreciated. Use the larger morsels first in hope of sating the dragon's appetite. "Physician, heal thyself. You're going into the front line."

From the sands, Taire gives a reassuring squeeze to Nial now, sniggering faintly at his words but trying to bite her lip to keep them back, 'cause it really wouldn't do to have Nial know that she actually thought that something he said was amusing. She quirks a glance over her shoulder to Nonam, "If you're too old, then why are you fardling well out here, eh?" She rolls her eyes before eyeing the newest brown.

From the sands, Ganorene has long since moved away from the cowards who refuse to bring attention to themselves, stepping forwards as the candidate ranks thin. "Oh, lookit the green! And the brown! Yay!" She raises an arm into the air spunkily, no energy lost in the course of the hatching--none at all. "Green and brown, go go go!" Someone shut her up? Please?

Lyllya grins. "Oh, he's lovely. Then again, they all are." All babies are cute. "Still... you know, as wonderful as it is, I don't fancy the sands again for a while. I mean, it's all for the good but those sands back in Xanadu are sweltering.. especially during the rains. The humidity is nearly unbearable." It even made Mizuth's flowers wilt.

From the sands, The shapes within the shadows of Fire's Oracle Egg seem to be gaining solidity and definition as the shell's integrity is furthered threatened by the multitude of cracks and crevasses marring the surface.

From the sands, Holly bounces again, pulling on Neil. "Look! He's coming close!" Finger points, and she's breathing hard now, wide eyed. Yup, this is drama alright! Her harper friends will be proud.

From the sands, Fated Igraine Dragonet hesitates in her search, whirling orbs sweeping the expansive sands and the cluster of candidates upon them. Reaching some inner decision, she slowly begins to walk toward one gathering of white-robe figures. The red thread of fate tugs her along until, at last, she comes to a stop in front of Holly, offering the girl a soft, quiet rumble of pleasure as Impression is shared.

From the sands, Razel lifts her left foot and peers at it; almost starting to forget about what's going on around them. They continue to stick together like this, and they'll be fiiiiine. Really. Meanwhile, red and angry blisters are forming near the edges of the too-large sandals. The teen tsk's, whines and then puts the foot back down. She'd try lifting the right one now, but honestly, it'd probably cause her to fall. Wouldn't want that, now, would we?

From the sands, Fynelox purses his lips as he looks back behind him. "If you're so interested, then I concur, you should be standing in front of us, not in back." He's all for edging away and circling around till the healer is standing in the forefront instead. He also gives a nod to Menacion, figuring that the guard will be handy to have around too. They're making a nice huddle it seems, probably to confuse the heck of out of any hatchling going near them. Probably have to peel through them to find someone to Impress!

M'hail blinks as the dragonet stands before Holly. "Impression, aye," he murmurs to himself, yet another sigh escaping him. Pretty emotional thing, Hatchings.

From the sands, Gabriela shrugs at Aryion, chuckling. "Maybe he's done what most of us want to do and made a run for the nearest tavern." Yeah, so a dragon walks into a bar... "She is," the trader replies with a grin and nod toward Maeko. "And I dunno if she's sad... Maybe she's just.... vocal? And she's coming toward the candidates."

From the sands, Nonam starts backing up.   "No I'm not. I told you, I'm too old to Impress. You guys go first."   His hands come up as he spins around to try and edge back into the back again. "I'm only out here because I think Pwylth can't tell ages very well. Yeah."

From the sands, Finally free of that dreadfully dull fortress, it is time for Selfless Gawain Brown Dragonet to seek a noble quest or two to occupy his time and give him a chance to show his stuff. Look, ladies, a true hero at your service! Who needs to be rescued first?

From the sands, Ho'ly drops to her knees in front of the blue, tears springing to her eyes. It's not drama this time, it's real! "Oh, Grailth! You're the one I've been searching for my entire life!" All is now forgotten but the creature in front of her.

From the sands, Woh. Neil blinks as Holly impresses, and stares. Stares again, and peers towards them. "Congrats, Ho'ly!" He takes a few steps away from her, looking around slowly. That's more dangerous over there than he thought.

Psychotic appears from **BETWEEN**

From the sands, Thanial nods to Menacion, he's in full agreement. He's all for tossing Nonam right at the green, even. Just picking him up and chucking him towards her. "I bet you'd be surprised Nonam. Taire's right, after all Cera was older than you and she Impressed her blue." So nyah. Of course once Nonam's Impressed, Nial's all for throwing Menace to the wolves- err, dragonets. Beware thy friends.

From the sands, Faint tremors ripple across the surface of Fortune's Beckoning Egg once more, subtle prelude to the violent eruption that suddenly shatters shell's entirety. Blossoms' blizzard spreads across the sands as myriad shards are cast forth, heralding the warrior's dramatic emergence from within his protective veil.

From the sands, Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet
From the sands, Solid lapis dominates his courtly features, their stark angles slightly softened by gilded highlights atop pointed muzzle and regal crest. Broad chest and robust torso, armored in shimmering blue steel, harbor a surprising strength echoed by well-muscled forelimbs tipped with talons' mercurial gleam. Deceptively expansive cerulean wingsails, accented on the leading edge by daring flashes of chromium, oft shield vulnerable nickel-plated flanks as lashing, lancing tail ceaselessly guards the rear.

From the sands, Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet, her lonesome wail cast aside, throws wings back, regal bearing shimmering through sparkling pixie dust and echoed in her olivine 'sails. Decisiveness prompts efficient movement, her smooth, though childish steps carrying her towards a crowd of men, tail twitching with royal irritation, eyes whirling her hunger. Mouth opens, and the monarchial green draws back.. and roars.

From the sands, Aryion shrugs, "I wonder why that green looks so sad, she is about to impress to her lifemate. Strange." He points over to Holly, "Look, the green impressed to Holly, Congrats! That�s a nice name there." He casually comments to the girls. "Oh, that green looks like she knows who she wants.. and look at that other blue!"

From the sands, Menacion mutters. "I want a shovel. And some burlap sacks." He eyes the sand. "We could construct a nice little fort here." No pun intended. "Defend the barricades against the dragons. And the shovel would be handy for bapping them." He slips behind Nonam, blocking route of retreat. "Oh no you don't. If you're too old, you have nothing to lose by being in front." Hey. Thanial is next on the list. Menace out masses all of them.

From the sands, S'lan makes sure the weyrlings around him are all comfortable in what they are doing and goes to retrieve Ho'ly and Grailth.

From the sands, Ignoble Eidolon Egg ripples violently from base to crown as its neighbor explodes into life. To all things, there is a season. To all dreams, a beginning.

From the sands, "Oh, mememe!" Ganorene volunteers gamely, responding to the brown's unspoken request with an enthused and improvised cheer. "Oh," she says, tugging at the candidate next to her, "You think that handsome brown's coming this way? Maybe? C'mere, good-lookin'!" she calls. The other candidate in question moves away, with great haste. Yikes.

From the sands, Taire casts another glance back to Nonam, her grin going lopsided and causing one dimple to deepen far more than the other. "Aye... you should line up before us, Nonam. If'n you're so old, they you ain't got that many more chances out here. So better take 'em while you can." She finally notices that Menace seems to have joined their jolly group, grin widening.

From the sands, Dragonets left, dragonets right. Maeko's head is spinning. More are appearing at each step, and she whimpers again, stepping backwards as an involuntary motion. "Shards. How does one keep /up/ with everything? They're all over the place!" Take things as you go, perhaps? None have come near /her/ little group, thankfully. Or she'd have to scatter. Heeelp. "Gah."

From the sands, Anki wipes sweat from her forehead and stares about her. "Who's still unpounced?" she asks of anyone close enough to listen to her. "Ugh. Can't stand this heat much longer. I swear, everything on my is going limp."

From the sands, Nonam yipes as the roar sounds from a direction in which he is not facing. "No, no, I'm too old to have a chance. Too old."   Um...maybe he picked the wrong people to stand near?

From the sands, "Shards, I hope not!" Neil says this to Ganorene, going so far as to releasing her hand. Holly was bad enough, but /another/?

From the sands, Gabriela grins toward the brown. "He looks awfully proud and brave," she murmurs with a giggle before calling a fake congratulations to Ho'ly. Her eyes turn toward the hatching blue. "Look at him! Isn't he handsome?" Swoon and sigh. "Oh, and she doesn't look sad now... She looks angry," Gabriela whispers, looking with wide eyes toward the green. She shakes her head at Maeko's words, eyes having turned back to the blue. "As if the heat doesn't make us dizzy enough..."

From the sands, Selfless Gawain Brown Dragonet visibly perks up. What ho, a fair maiden soliciting his aid? A chance to prove his true valor and skill? Excited footsteps lead the dark-hued dragonet onward in search of high adventure and a chance to do a good deed or three.

From the sands, Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet picks his way out of the shards, whipping his head around to survey the crowd around him. Yes, he's arrived. A brief flick of his tail and he starts his journey across the sands in search of his one. A jaunty step, a daring air... this is a dragon that is sure of what he's doing... or at least he thinks so. Is his lifemate perhaps in this group?

From the sands, Fynelox jumps a bit as the green roars. "Oy, that's not a sound I thought a baby dragon would make." he admits with a gulp, backing up more. He's definitely glad there are larger targets to stand with now. His positioning is starting to pull at Taire's hand more and more. But the other alternative is to let go and he's not so sure about that. She'd probably kick him if he did.

From the sands, Fractured Symmetries Egg suddenly begins to move again. More reflections coruscate off the silvered shell, even as that within struggles from within.

Alizriel props herself against the wall next to her. Oh my, just lookit that blue! And that dear green...so sad..I hope she Impresses soon.. A slight wiggle of her foot to avoid a cramp..

From the sands, Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet tries, valiantly, to attract attention to herself, pulling ever closer to Nonam, then excusing him with a draconic flip of head. Weyrling feet smack the ground as she walks, dignity running through her veins, through her body. The other boys are isolated, judged with a critical eye, a whine in the background inaudible with all the noise.

From the sands, The once cook could really go for whipping up some cool snack at this moment. Something frothy, that would feel oh so lovely on her poor feet. However, Razel has only sand and.. ah.. dragonets to play with. What can you make out of that, other than an impression - which is a delicacy she's unsure that she can handle.

From the sands, "Indeed. If the heat isn't enough, the.. chaos is." Maeko's ready to swoon, but in the sense that she'd fall to the sands in a dead faint. Slight stagger, and she steadies her stance; feet planted firmly. "Most of them seem to know where they're going, though." Is the next soft comment, and her head tilts to the side as she flickers attention between several. Those that she can see well, anyway.

From the sands, Aryion nods, "Yes, he does have that air about him doesn't he? There are so many, I don't know which one to look at." Eyes dart around the sands, stopping on dragonets, rocking eggs, and fellow candidates. So much to see, but where to look. Grins are cast toward the girls around him, "none of them have come toward us have they? Strange."

From the sands, Gabriela looks between the brown and blue, not sure which to cast her eyes upon. She grins at the brown, and then she turns with a giggle toward the confident blue. "You know... I have yet to see a funny-looking dragon" comes the trader's random comment. "And I hope that green Impresses soon, 'cause she sounds like she's gonna be sick." She nods slowly at Maeko. "If only they'd do it faster..." She grins toward Aryion, chuckling. "I don't think so. Do we smell funny?" The sailor-bred girl manages to refrain from lifting her arm and sniffing.

From the sands, Menacion glances around and takes a quick head count. "Well. Most of the guys." He'd rattle off names, but that would take too long. "Hrmm...nice voice on that thing." Excuse Menace while he puts more things between him and the dragon. Backwards steps...

From the sands, Thanial gulps as well and follows Fyne in his motion, stepping back once more, pulling slightly where he's connected to Taire. He is of mind to push Nonam's shoulder slightly, hoping to throw the Healer off-balance and into the roaring green's path... but he's too late. The green passed Nonam by. That leaves Menace to be tossed towards the green.. or at least to hide behind. "Take Menace, take Menace," he offers the little green. "Look how big and brawny he is." Taire's going to be sacrificed next if necessary.

From the sands, Ganorene cries out as the brown actually looked at her. "He looked at me!" she notes to Neil, though the rather vacuous girl is already jogging away, pulling towards the brown with a giggle. "Rarr. Scary dragonet. You're not so scary, are you?" She tosses her head in an answer to her own question, and the constant social bubble she has drives more people away, mumbling, "Shards she's talking to him..."

From the sands, Selfless Gawain Brown Dragonet steps forward to the girl Ganorene, brave and loyal, to accept the challenge. He bows his head in anticipation of the strike, unsure if she'll send him away or bring him eternal satisfaction. But the candidate cries out in sudden joy, stepping forward to embrace her new lifemate.

From the sands, Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet is eyeing a knot of girls warily. Girls. Hmm. And that green over there. Maybe best to stay on /this/ side of the sands? He slips a bit closer to where there might be ones that understand him. Brave. Bold. That he can handle. His neck stretches out to a small boy from Tillek who squeals a bit and then backs away. Nope. Won't do. There's got to be someone here who understands a bit of adventure? A bit of the wanderlust?

From the sands, Eeek! Neil staggers back, "You too!" He looks around frantically, the young gulping audibly. He turns and hides behind one of the small knots, the ones that the Bitran lad was in earlier.

From the sands, Taire is pulled back a tad, and she isn't mad at all that such a thing is happening. In fact, she was beginning to wonder why someone didn't consider this option before. With one hand clutching at Nial and the other attached to Fyne, she moves back as well. She blinks at Menace's words. Oh yes, the ranks are certainly thinning.

From the sands, Maeko is rather afraid to sniff underneath her arm, knowing full well where the trio of them have /been/ for the past time. Shimmering heat plus anxiety equals one sweaty candidate. Though it does produce a laugh. "Hey! That brown's impressed, now. That grant your wish, Gaby? They're going a little quicker." Well, one is, anyway. It's a start, nu?

From the sands, Push. Menace gives Nonam a not-so-gentle nudge, incidentally heading him towards the approaching green. Take him, take him! Putting that brawniness to good use.

From the sands, Ignoble Eidolon Egg ripples again. To every dream, there comes an ending.

From the sands, Secretive lines subtly grow along the twisting turns of the Ignoble Eidolon Egg. Following textures and patterns of color, the cracks quietly, swiftly shoot from base to hollow crown, only to ripple back down from the height as quickly as they arrived. With a final ripple from the inside outward, the ovoid shatters into ruins, the shadows destroyed. Atop the remains of the once strong egg stands a proud young bronze, his head lifting with regal assurance. So begins the quest for his birthright.

From the sands, Perfidious Mordred Bronze Dragonet
From the sands, Unfinished copper sparks across the dark bronze hide of this young warrior, like the bloodstains atop ancient shields. Powerful legs propel a solid body, mired in fire-licked shadows, with a confidence that belies obvious youth. Each lash of his tail is a strike of a coiled whip, yet his lovely muzzle shines clean and clear, a bronze pure enough to distract from chromatic imperfections elsewhere.

From the sands, Gr'ene crowds out loud and long, "Knyghth! Of course! You're wonderful and perfect and beautiful," she gushes, crooning then name over and over, "Gr'ene... Knyghth!" And for once in the entire evening, she is struck silent.

From the sands, Nonam sighs and decides to stop pushing his way through, ever so much now that the green has apparently decided that he will not do. Instead, he starts to sneak a little ways away, sidling to the side. But then Menance pushes him, and he goes sprawling backwards onto his rear, caught by surprise. No, he doesn't hit anything but sand, but....that's hot sand.   "Ow, ow, ow, hot, hot, hot."   He's on his feet again, "Menace, that was hot!"   Yep, time to find someone else to go stand with.

From the sands, Fynelox considered putting the healer up to the approaching green, but then she goes and passes him by already and another idea pops into the boy's head. A head toss to Thanial, his eyes peer towards the guardsman who joined them belatedly. Ah, Menacion would be fitting to be sacrificed first! So the ever so innocent little herderboy shows his darker side by using his free hand to try and push the other Candidate right after the healer and towards the green's path he hopes.

From the sands, Gabriela turns toward Ganorene with a smile and call of congratulations before looking back toward the blue. "He definitely looks like he's on a mission," the sea trader comments with a grin as she wipes sweat from her forehead. She turns toward Maeko with a chuckle. "Assuredly," she replies. "But I guess with this... these dragonets don't want to jump too hastily toward a lifemate, right?" She's trying to convince herself to accept the pace.

Alizriel yawn then gasp as the bronze erupts from its egg. "Ohhh Ary, this would be a good one to go for!" murmured softly but with enthusiasm. She pushes herself off the wall to start cheering again, her voice nothing but a croak now. /Would/ he go for the bronze?

From the sands, Water's Illusion Egg's silver samite surface grows more disturbed as larger cracks rippled across its circumference, destroying the illusion of watery depths. But cracks are simply cracks and nothing yet rises from within to emerge. There is still more time.

From the sands, Aryion sniffs around himself. "I don't think we smell bad. I just think that the right ones have hatched yet for us. Oh, a bronze!" Blue eyes move toward the dark bronze hide of the newest dragonet, before darting around the sands, trying to keep up with all the staggering little dragons. A congratulations is called out to the newly impressed before eyes start darting around once again.

From the sands, Thanial nods at Fyne, both having the same idea. His free hand snakes out as well to attempt come into contact with the former guard and give him the final push towards the green. Better Menace than anyone of their trio. Cough. "Menace." Cough. Subtle, isn't he?

From the sands, Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet doesn't mind odor, or candidates who sweat. After all, there's always a little sweat shed in the best of quests. Perhaps if a girl sweats, she might not be /so/ bad. Better than that Tillek wimp, anyway. Head high again, he sets out across the sands. He'll find what he's looking for! It's what he's here for! It's his purpose! His driving force!

From the sands, Priestess of Avalon Egg gives a violent shudder causing it to tip out of its safe nest of sand. The time fast approaches, and as the power grows stronger, the grey fog ripples and darkens.

From the sands, "Oops. I'm sorry." Menace apologizes. With a certain amount of insincerity. "I didn't mean to do that. It was an accident." Would kicking Nonam keep him down? Probably a little too unsubtle. Menace stumbles sidewards a grand total of one step. "What are you doing, Fyne?" Sheesh. The guardsman probably outmasses the boy by at least twice as much. Maybe three or four times. Menace dodges Nial's pushing hand. "Hey. Watch it. Or I'll push /you/ people at the dragon."

From the sands, Perfidious Mordred Bronze Dragonet wastes little time at all, but such an entrance deserves to be fully appreciated. Still, that icky blue clutch sib is about to snatch the prize. With a brash brassy bellow, the bronzeling promptly gives chase to the wimpy little blue. A challenge! A fight! A...oh, wait...what's all this, then? The lovely head turns towards the array of white-robed stinky things. Yes? Well?

From the sands, Maeko needs just as much convincing, don't worry. "There you go, Ary! No brown for you? Bronze, instead. Bronze for sure." That's settled. Aryion is now a bronzerider. Maeko's pretty definite on that fact. But, hey? What's that? There's a blue in their vicinity. Maeko nudges Gabriela with wide eyes. "Hey! Lookat that! They're not /all/ avoiding us. Maybe we don't smell /too/ bad."

From the sands, Taire can't exactly push anyone, seeing as her hands are help by others. But she could offer a kick? Nope, that won't work. Again, she has been having back luck with her aiming as of late. Her eyes round at Menace's threatening words and immediately she is releasing both of the boys. "Hey, they did it!" And then she takes a /long/ step back.

From the sands, Neil meeps! He looks at the Bronze as it rushes, and takes a few steps to the side. Just in case it heads his way.

From the sands, Nonam continues to sidle away from the other candidates, going back to plan A, which was standing by himself, and watching the dragons by himself.   This way, no one will be pushing him at anything. It's a perfect plan.   Of course, the possibility that it will make him more obvious to the dragonets hasn't crossed his mind.

From the sands, Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet stalks through the crowd, the healer sidestepped with an arrogant growl. Icily indignant, she raises her wings up, composing herself with her true, sovereign bearing. Waiting not for the other candidate's shove, she hurtles forwards -- and there is no avoiding her.

From the sands, Sovereign Mark Green Dragonet twitches her tail, eyes latching on some color, some thought, some one. Barreling towards a burly, goateed lad, she skids to a stop just out of his reach, curious, but cautious, claws digging into the hot sand. Wings fan out regally, and eyes climb higher and higher, finally resting assured on the candidate's face, taking Menacion confidently as her own.

From the sands, Razel whimpers both in happiness and in pain. Her steps take her further from the little group of candidates, and towards a nest of a few unhatched eggs. She recognizes one of them from her earlier explorations, and allows herself to fall deep into the scrying pool represented by the Water's Illusion Egg. Ooh, better not stare too long - feet will certainly be forgotten then, and burnt to a crisp. Still, maybe that egg offers some release from the pain? Any cool liquid will do at the moment.

Caitlin is still watching, watching and sipping wine, fallen silent in her chatter with Ethan as the movement on the sand occupies her attention "Well I hope one of my harpers comes up with a song worthy for today for my word skills are better in repartee then in songsmithing." She smiles "I just prefer the collection of information." Well perhaps Caitlin is never truly silent.

From the sands, Gabriela grins and nods at Aryion's words as she looks toward the bronze. "Yet another handsome beast," she murmurs with a nod before her eyes drift back to the blue. Something catches the corner of her eye. "Please don't tell me one of those guys is getting the green... please... no." She blinks at Maeko's words and nods. "Maybe he actually likes smelly people?" She gulps and wipes more of that sharding sweat from her forehead as she eyes the beast. "Menace?!" Oh, Faranth. "Oh, Faranth. Save us now... Um, congrats, Menace?"

From the sands, Aryion eyes the blue dragonet that appears to be heading toward their little group. "I think that one might be heading toward us. Oh look at the way that bronze is searching over everyone. I wonder who he is going to?" Blink. "Go Menace! That was a surprise there."

From the sands, Along gilded lines a rift forms, piercing the veil that obscures vision of the life within Priestess of Avalon Egg. While the mists have been cracked, visibility is still dim, revealing only faint glimpses of movement. Slowly the fractures spread across ovoid surface, the ashen outer layer crumbling away to cast further illumination on the mysterious inhabitant. Then, as if poured from a vase, Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet fully emerges faerie quick into this world.

From the sands, Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet
From the sands, Shadows of velveteen verdancy dance in erratic patterns upon the length of her petite but proportional body, richly-colored hide undertoned by the dew-speckled hues of a moonlit glen. Exquisitely sinuous traceries of dark ivy twine their way from neckridge to talon, branching off to wind across the slender span of unusually lengthy wings. Angular features play upon her sleekly sylvan countenance, invoking notice of muzzle's pert point and inviting attention to tail's teasing tendril.

Lyrn nearly leaps from her seat. "YES! MENACION!" she had, quite honestly, bet a /half a mark/ that he'd Impress a green. Muah hah hah...Now she was a whole...er....whole half a mark richer. Chuckling contentedly to herself, she retreats back into the shadows, her eyes still following the remaining candidate she had half a mark on...

All this time Zeya has been frozen with a petrifying mix of excitement, elation and anticipation. "YOU CAN DO IT ARYION!!!" she suddenly breaks her silence then goes back to being strangely mesmerized by the blue hatchling, she loves blues...

From the sands, Fynelox beams from ear to ear as the plan appeared to have succeeded spectacularly. "Hey! It worked!" the boy pipes up, grinning over at Thanial and raising his free hand for a high-five. They should try this more often. Maybe they can shove Nonam again, or if that doesn't work, they're both still holding onto Taire.

From the sands, Those iridescent fractures within the Fractured Symmetries' surface begin to quake. The flaw surges, as if fighting the lines of perfect order within the egg's surface. And yet, still, the order holds against the onslaught, at least for now.

From the sands, Thanial blinks as his hand is released. "Coward," is hissed towards Taire. But then again, it's too late and Nial's safe. "Menace!!!" Oh wait, ye gods, Menace on green. Fort will never be the same. Returning Fyne's hi-five he beams, "We should try it again. Seems to work out well."

From the sands, A cackle is Maeko's response to Menace's impression, as if the very thought amuses her- okay, it does. Who wouldn't it amuse? The idea of Menacion, proddy, has an odd ring to it- something not fully understood until seen, most likely. But careful eye remains on both dragonets that seem to hold an interest in stinky people. "Ary." She nudges him again, nodding towards aforementioned creatures. What more will she say? Twinkling eyes reveal her smug comment-to-be. The priestess egg shatters, and the green emerging catches her eye immediately. "And another green, Gaby! So many at once. My head's still spinning."

Ethan sits back in his chair, relaxing with the alcohol swimming nicely through his blood, and observes the goings-on upon the sands as well. "I am certain that you will get something to remember this day by." Then he winces as yet another candidate impresses and a resulting roar echoes within the galleries. "The acoustics seem to be working quite well here."

From the sands, P'tala ignores the men completely, eyes on the shoving kids towards the back. "Isn't that Nonam? Are they really suppose to be--..." Mid-sentence stops her short, and the girl can't help but cheer. "Menacion! Excellent impression!" She wipes a false tear away, grinning to knock the Weyr down. Her little Guardlet. All grown up and impressing green.

Caitlin laughs softly and nods "Indeed, I have a senior apprentice who decided the acoustics are good enough for a concert, I told her to wait till the eggs were off." She smiles thoughtfully "I am sure I will get a few scribbles and performances to give me headaches to come." She winks at Ethan.

From the sands, N'cion blinks. Blinkity blink. Hey. This wasn't supposed to... "Whaa? Amnerith?" In spite of his strenuous earlier protestations, a delighted grin spreads across Menace's face, rather boyish in character and unlike his normal grins. Suddenly heedless to the burning sands and the shouted congratulations, he stumbles off with his new green. (Thus are new Menaces born).

From the sands, Tearing her gaze away, Razel then shakes her head; which sends her blond locks cascading down her back. Ahem... Now's not the time to daydream. Instead, the teen runs hands down the front of her robe, and tucks her hair behind her ears. Feet may be paining, however... she's endured worse burns than this in the kitchen. Therefore, with a deep breath, she returns to her endless walking... Letting her footsteps take her where they may..

From the sands, Taire aims a punch at Nial's shoulder, hoping that she actually connects but with all the chaos going on out here, she could just as easily miss. Menace and his new /green/ lifemate are eyed. "Sweet Faranth." She never imagined that would ever happen. "I didn't see you smooching up to the green now, did I?" she retorts to Nial, dropping fisted hands to her hips and even deigns to stick her tongue out at him. With a contemptuous sniff, she turns aside to startle as yet another egg hatches, this one bringing forth a green.

From the sands, Majestic Arthur Blue Dragonet swings his head around, peering carefully at the little group he's singled out. Yes, there's hope here. A sniff, a bit of a royal snort, and he lifts his head regally. Who to knight for his adventures? Tail flicks impatiently as he surveys the ranks. The one is here... he can feel it. His eyes close briefly, perhaps imagining the adventures... the missions ahead.

From the sands, Gabriela looks toward the green with a raised eyebrow, grinning and nodding toward Maeko. "Yes, she's beautiful!" she replies with a giggle. "I know... they should give us water occasionally or something." She tries to push that frightening nightmare out of her head--Menace on green--not wanting to accept it as a reality, and she turns her eyes back to the blue. "Gah... looking at him makes me think of water..." Which also makes her thinking of running away, back to the ship. "He is handsome, though..."

From the sands, The future of Fire's Oracle Egg is indeed drawing near. Inner heat and the unstoppable passage of time conspire together to reduce the vivid shell to brittle, papery consistency. Surely the seer's vision will soon emerge.

Alizriel's mouth moves silently, her voice totally gone now. If anyone could possibly read lips down on the sands, which was most likely impossible, she would be saying..screaming.. "Come on Aryion!!!!!!!!!" Dry-cough, oh look another green...

From the sands, S'lan steps back out into the sands to guide N'cion and Amnerith over to where the others are.

From the sands, Nonam stops when he feels he's far enough away from the other candidates, and then starts to laugh. "Ha! Serves you right!   Congratulations, Menacion!   And...Amnerith!"

Zeya ignores the fact that eye rises, Shards it's hot up here. She points to the blue, "Look he's heading towards Ary's group!"

From the sands, Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet shakes off the last remnants of shell as she tries to right herself in the soft sand before looking up at Suyinth and Yevgeth, emitting a soft creel. Turning around, she cocks her head, examining the groups of people gathered before her. Somewhere out there is the one. Hesitantly, she takes a step forward before stumbling over her large wings and falling muzzle first into the sand.

From the sands, Perfidious Mordred Bronze Dragonet bugles loudly for no real reason. Or maybe he has a reason and nobody else knows it. Yes, yes. That's it. He has...A Plan. But first, he needs a sidekick. A page, if you will. A squire, to do his bidding in the Grand Scheme. And, alas, some poor little stinky thing decides to skitter to one side. Momentarily delaying the royal usurpation, the little bronze pounces forward, quite happy to give chase to his first official victim. Stay still.

From the sands, Nonam starts moving to the side again, as there seems to be too much to see at once.   Have to find a better place to see it all.   As he does, he calls out. "Congratulations, G'aela, Calevath!"

From the sands, Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet paws at her muzzle, trying to scrape off the clinging sand before looking back up. Continuing to stay where she has fallen though, her gaze returns to the sands. This is defiantly something interesting. Wings come forward to scoop more sand into a pile. She's found something that must be investigated further, at least for a brief moment until her need overrides her curiosity.

Alizriel prays silently, her browns seemingly crooning with prayers of their own..but flitters.. praying? Nah.. "In the name of Faranth and the First Egg, /please/ let Aryion Impress!" She watches the blue and bronze intently..

Lyllya is leaning against M'dan's shoulder at this point, the Xanadian content to merely watch and cheer each impression as it happens. Forget about conversation, she's lost in the emotion of it all. "Oh, look.." At what? Well, something on the sands. Her reverie is broken, however, by the actions of the bronze. "What /is/ he doing? Chasing one of them down?"

From the sands, Eeek! Neil leaps away, or tries to, as the Bronze pounces near him. Thump. And poor Neil lands right on his face, in front of the bronze. Oops. That wasn't supposed to happen. Was it?

From the sands, Anki shuffles on the sands, smirking. "Heh. I knew it." Green. Ha. Take that, Menace. "Congratulations, Gaby!" She shouts. "And Calevath!"

From the sands, V'len sighs happily. Yes, Yevgeth's done himself proud. Eyes are on him, right? After the last impression, he manages to take his eyes off the sands for a moment to wave to those no doubt admiring from the stands. Yes, give them all a thrill. Just don't cheer /too/ loudly... it'll scare the dragonets.

Caitlin laughs softly and pats Ethan on the arm "See I need you to come around more often and remind me of this don't I just Ethan, who else would keep me in line and discipline my apprentices." She laughs softly and nods "I think I need to put someone strict in as apprentice master so they can take all their compositions and complaints and ideas to them." She smiles "You want that role Ethan?" She smiles and nods "The auditorium is fine, well except for a bit piece of metal near the organ which threatens to hurt people"

From the sands, Razel is rather glad she made her way apart from Gabby, and Aryion and Maeko now.. Especially if they hatchlings are headed that way. However, upon seeing the impression, she smiles again; her arms stealing around her form again to hug herself. Eyes dart to where the greenling fell, and the cook feels sorry for her. Shaking her head, she actually chuckles. It reminds her of her younger sister - she was never light on her feet either.. Ahem.

From the sands, Aryion beams over at Gabby as the blue impresses, "Gabby! Oh, congrats! What�s his name?" He moves a little away from the newly impressed pair. "G'aela, Calevath!" A grin is cast toward Maeko, "I'm not going anywhere for the time being, still here." He eyes the bronze at play, laughing softly.

From the sands, Perfidious Mordred Bronze Dragonet's hunt draws to a close when the path opens. A lovely little path between two candidates, one a little shorter than the other, leads the brash little warrior further into the ranks. No tricks to distract him, no romantic nonsense to squelch. He has his target. His victim. Together, they will rule. Annoying little Neil? No more! Now he is the rider named N'i!

From the sands, Siani watches, still holding onto Hanz who's fallen as silent as she has, intent on watching the eggs hatch and Impress. There's little that she can think to say, for once in her life, other than to just beam with pride and pleasure. Even V'len gets a broad grin, "Yevgeth has been an excellent sire."

From the sands, Ni! Or more properly, N'i looks up, and blinks at the Bronze. Blinks again, and squeaks-- nay, cracks, his voice cracking, "Shubberyth?" Yes, it's the Knight who says N'i...and his dragon, Shrubberyth. He blinks again, "Shrubberyth!"

From the sands, Thanial considers, it might just be worth it to toss Taire towards an oncoming dragonet. Hrmmmm.... All the action seems to be on the other side of the Sands again, and so Nial takes a much needed breather. But wait, what's that, another green. Running to hide behind Taire, he plants both hands on her shoulders, as if to propel her forwards. Hey, everyone has to die sometime. "Fyne, help me," he calls to the other candidate.

From the sands, Maeko sniffles theatrically, eyeing Aryion warily. "You're sure?" She's a polarity kinda girl, nu? One moment here, one moment gone. Mentally, of course. She lost tack of him, apparently, and the bronze went elsewhere. Pout. "/You/ were supposed to impress." Maeko's dictate, you know. Hmph. Skitter. Skitter. She scuttles back up, shaking her head in a quick motion, hair settling once more in an unrefined mass. "Bah."

From the sands, It's time. That's the only way to describe it. From within the Fractured Symmetries Egg, something happens. That within struggles to emerge into the light of the world. Unwavering, it continues, even as sand swirls around the egg.

From the sands, Darkening, the strands of molten quicksilver shudder as an inward tremor surges outwards from the depths of Fractured Symmetries Egg. That tremor finds its purchase in the egg's fracture, causing the glorious runes to darken as fiery crimson spreads over the ovoid's surface like a whirlwind of released passions. But -- /but/ -- the symmetry, the inherent order and strength within the shell seems to hold against this tumultuous surge, causing the shards to fall perfectly formed from either side, releasing its occupant to the world.

From the sands, Principled Lancelot Bronze Dragonet
From the sands, Rich russet cascades down muscled shoulders and haunches, throwing metallic glimmers as the warm hue slides into the deep bronze of his hide. Grace is betrayed in his gliding movements, hinting at the underlying physical strength and self-assuredness that promises to be formidable in its own right. Headknobs are slightly over-exaggerated and muzzle is proudly chiseled, their angular planes reflecting the intelligent beauty of his face. Precise ebony wingsails are tipped with a dangerous crimson, the coloration echoed in talons that warn of latent power masked within his refinement.

From the sands, Taire is immediately digging in her heels, which only means that her sandals feet are getting rather entrenched in the hot sands. "Nial! Nial! What are you-" *growl* "Nial! So help me Faranth I'm gonna knock you over and leave you for those dragonets to pick over." Alas, she is gradually easing before the others.

From the sands, Fynelox nods quickly and responds like before, stepping back to snag the other side of the girl between himself and Thanial. The boy is stronger than he looks, which'll come in handy just now as they prepare to launch the girl towards whatever dragonet is coming by. Maybe the green. The only distraction of his attention is the cracking of another egg, something else to hide from then. They're starting to run out of sacrifices.

Naralia mounts the distance up to the viewing ledges.

From the sands, Aryion backs up a bit, as the bronze goes by to impress to N'i. Cheers goes out for the little guy before Ary's eyes are drawn to the hatching bronze. "Faranth.." is all the smith can utter as he takes in the wonderful bronze that just emerged. "Maeko, look at him, he is wonderful!"

From the sands, Not sacrifices. Partners. Guardians, and wards. Unlike some of his siblings, the Principled Lancelot Bronze does not stumble out of his shell. He steps out of it with an inherent grace that is striking to behold. His russet-bronze head swings slowly about, searching. He knows what, and who he wants. Now, all that remains is to find him.

From the sands, V'zan cracks his knuckles, "Another bronze. Poor Noswaith is going to have even more competition during his flights now. Which means more lost flights." He sighs melodramatically before winking at P'tala. "What a pity."

From the sands, Cabalistic Morgaine Green Dragonet struggles to rise, her attention returning to the candidates. Now that her brief pondering of the sands is over, she realizes what she must do. She takes a step toward the practically all male group, this time being sure to raise her wings. Critically, she eyes each person in turn. Maybe there is someone there that might complete her. The glint of light off metal catches her attention and she stops.

From the sands, M'lan chuckles softly at V'zan, his gaze lingering briefly on the new Weyrlings, before saying to V'zan, "We'll deal with it, I'm sure..."

From the sands, Fire's Oracle Egg crumples in upon itself soundlessly, revealing a wizened brown dragonet carefully ensconced within. After a moment's serious contemplation, he seems to have weighed the various paths open to him and settled upon a decidedly advantageous future. The fates have revealed to his mystic inner vision that a certain scrawny Healer apprentice is the boy prophesied to be his lifemate. So it is written, so it shall be. Fortunately, the toe-headed lad seems more than willing.

From the sands, Maeko's eyes alight as the other bronze hatches, and she giggles. "Oh, indeed! Indeed." Bounce, bounce. She's getting /bored/, dernit, and is sick of being left here. Green is eyed curiously, though she seems to be inspecting a group of boys; of which, she wouldn't be classified, of course. Stinky, but not male.

From the sands, P'tala smirks at V'zan, rolling her eyes. "More lost flights? Look how many new greens there are? Shards, boys..." She's playing the Mature Weyrsecond, now. "And I think the only person who would pity you... well.. hm. That'd be me, yes?" No one else wants everyone else's hand-me-down bronzeriders.

From the sands, Thanial stubbornly propels Taire forwards, dwindling eggs means dwindling likelihood that he'll be caught up in the mess afterwards. What can Taire do if he's not here? So intent is he on his task that he completely misses the hatching of the newest bronze, else he'd turn to shove Fyne towards the dragonets as well. Lucky Fyne.

From the sands, V'len gasps a little as the next bronze hatches. "He's almost a rival to you, Yevgeth." That's saying something. But he says it quietly. It wouldn't do for anyone to hear that. "Don't worry, though... he's just a weyrling. Now." He bites his lower lip, looking towards V'zan. "Not that Yevgeth would /ever/ be worried about competition!" That, he says in a loud voice.

From the sands, Nonam stops then, thinking his vantage point is good. He's keeping as far apart from the other candidates as he can, since they seem to like to push people towards the dragons, behavior that Nonam simply cannot understand. So, leaning from one foot to the other, here he shall stay.

From the sands, Taire howls as now Fyne has to add in to the treachery. "What do you two think you are doing?!" she cries, eyes opening as wide as marks with the glint of alarm flashing. A hand tries to reach around to clutch at someone, anyone! "Ow... Ouch... the sands, guys." Not to mention the dragonets either. "No really. You don't need to do this. I'm just fine. I'm just -will you just stop it now! Shaffit! Fardling shell-brained..." And it is basically goes downhill from there as she rattles off curse after curse. After taking a breath, her voice goes panicked, "Guys?!"

Ethan takes a small sip of his wine and then places his mug to the side, the container still half full. He can already feel the warming effects under his skin and is in no need for further stimulation in that vein. He immediately denies Caitlin's words with a resounding, "Not unless you find another to take my place at my hall." And he'd comment further, except he happens to glance on the sands and grows annoyed as he notes, "Well... there goes one of mine. I wonder how many more I shall lose to the dragons."

Continued in Part 5

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