Temperanth dozed lightly on the sands. It was afternoon, and the sands were at least a nice place to sleep. She was lying at the edge of the sands because of her current configuration for her eggs. They sat in the middle of the sands, with one egg at the center. Around it, were three eggs. Notable, the egg with the golden shell was one of these, not the one in the center. Around those three, were another three and so on for each of her eggs. Shortly after the touching she had moved them into this position, with minor switching certain eggs.
The eggs had been more active recently, but they were enjoying some rest in the afternoon much like their mother. Except one. One of the largest eggs, sitting on the outside of the formation of eggs, moved with a start. The Ice opened one eye and moved her head to observe the egg. Maybe the egg was merely being active. She wouldn’t be too surprised.
Then the egg lurched, falling onto its side.
The Ice rose, letting out a bugle before settling into a low hum. [smear:33ccff]Ice Stone! Come greet my children.[/smear:3366ff] She turned her gaze to the moving egg and watched as it started to haltingly roll under the weight of quick movements from the egg’s occupant. A brief rumble from the Queen broke up her hatching song.
She hoped the candidates came soon, otherwise that one was liable to roll right out of sands.
Savitr hardly knew what was going on. One moment he was in the baths and, the next, he was being ushered along to the barracks by someone else - he presumed another Candidate - to get ready for the Hatching. The hum was singularly unexpected and he marveled at it, even as he hastened to slick his hair back and pull on the traditional raiment of a Candidate. He looked around for other, more familiar faces, but it was difficult - there was entirely too much going on all of a sudden and the gambler did his best to keep calm and stead. Song day was what one of the eggs had called it, he remembered that.
He made a mental note to be extra wary.
When the others went to the Sands, he went with them; when they bowed, so did he. He took a place as near to front and center as he could, anxiously rolling up on the balls of his feet while he watched, wide-eyed, and utterly without his usual poker face. After a quick skim of the galleries - for what, he did not know - he looked to the eggs and forced his expression into something calmer, cooler, and more collected than he felt.
Shakti was in the midst of tending to her firelizards and making sure they were well-oiled when the humming started. "Jays! Shells and shards," she blurted out and hastily went through the motions of getting ready. It was a mess, all in all. Her hands were still a little oily and she struggled to clean them off before attempting to throw the robe on and get her hair out of the way. Her firelizards, fortunately, didn't respond to her frantic mannerisms; they sprawled out on her cot, chattering at each other and at anyone else that would look at them.
"You are not helping, you know," she pointed out to the pair, but they couldn't care less.
At least they would be out of the way while she was out on the Sands. With a final tug of robe and huff of breath, the Candidate joined the others out on the Sands, bowing as if on cue. She was too wound up to be nervous; it wasn't anxiety that nearly left her bouncing in place, but sheer excitement. The new arrangement of the eggs drew a pursing of her lips and she squinted, as if that might help make it more clear just why the eggs were in that formation. Ultimately, it didn't matter, not really, but she tried anyway.
Ulyana was prepared, as was only appropriate. By the time the rest of the Weyr was alive with the expectant hum of dragons, she was in the barracks and dressed for the occasion. Her crochet project was neatly folded and stowed away with her other belongings. It was nearly done; another hour, perhaps two, and it would be finished. A twinge of disappointment registered in her thoughts for that revelation. While there was a species of excitement for the Hatching itself, she never enjoyed the idea of leaving some manner of work unfinished if she could avoid it.
She joined the other Candidates as they ventured onto the Sands, taking her place among their number. Neither front and center, nor fully to a side, she chose a vantage that would allow her the best possible angle to view the newly arranged eggs. Their arrangement was, certainly, a thing of note. She bowed when the others did but, otherwise, remained a still and statuesque creature, pale and small in the midst of other, more robust personalities.
Post by shapeshifter on Dec 22, 2018 14:47:23 GMT -8
Lena awoke with a start, her heart racing and her mind whirling. She threw the furs off of her as she scrambled to braid her hair back all the while she grabbed her Candidates robe from her trunk. She nearly screamed with excitement, the sound of the humming growing larger in the Weyr after the bugle of what she figured to be the Ice Queen. She gathered herself up, sliding on sandals and tying off the ends of her hair. Lena took a deep breath. This was it. This was her moment. She threw open the door, looking as the Barracks erupted with noise from the alert. She ran down the hall, through the corridors and off towards the Sands. The sounds vibrated her chest as she neared and once her feet felt the warmth and the chill off her back, she looked around to see the wings of dragons, chatter of people and the attention all falling towards the eggs that were beginning to rock and peck. She stepped towards the sands to fall in line with her comrades and wait for the first shell to burst.
Taissa was pacing when the sounds of the Queen bugling rang through the air. She felt her chest seize and her mind whirl with emotions. She stopped mid pacing, holding onto the wall with one hand as she clutched her chest. Her long hair fell around her face as she stared at the floor wide eyed. It's time... she thought to herself, gathering her courage and imagining it burst and flow from her heart to her extremities, in hopes that it would improve her mind-space from the sudden anxiety on-set. Her nerves were worked over, but in this moment she had to keep it together. She grabbed her robes and laid them on the bed, shrugging the ones she had on off. She slipped into the robes, letting the silk fit her frame and whoosh across it as she did a twirl to make sure everything was secure. She slipped on her sandals and left her barrack, heading towards the Sands.
She caught the back end of Lena running into the Hatching Grounds as she approached, hearing the flurry of dragons' wings and humming alarmed her. So much excitement! With good reason! She crossed her arms over her chest, hunching slightly against the cold before making it onto the Sands from the entrance. The hot Sands melted away the cold as she moved to join on the left side of Lena, looking dead ahead at the eggs. She made a slight bow of her head to the Queen in respect for allowing her on the Sands after the incident at the Touching. She looked towards the eggs and took a deep breath, watching and waiting. She took note though, at the odd arrangement of the eggs and wondered with deep curiosity of why the Queen moved them to sit so.
The candidates were only just starting to file in when the egg, so mobile, paused on the sands. Temperanth watched it, not remotely fooled. A moment later, the egg shattered, an Ice bursting through his shell. He was a pleasant mix of blues with larger flecks of light colored ‘snow’ dusting his hide. He lay sprawled on the sands after the sudden effort of hatching, before he picked himself up and looked out at the candidates and the stands. A moment later he roared, at least he tried to, and spread out his wings to make himself look as large as possible as he bounced once in place. He was here! It was cleared the young Ice was in no way afraid of an audience.
The other eggs were starting to move just a little, nothing approaching the early Ice’s performance. Temepranth watched them, and moved her head suddenly when the egg in the very center moved. Just a little. Her tail moved slowly as she watched the center egg for a moment, and it twitched again, just a bit. Hmmm.
Hedara made her way into the stands. She did not think she was late, but there was a dragonet on the sands even so. She sat down and watched, her relief that the eggs were hatching an honest joy. Now all that had to happen was for the hatching to go smoothly.
Savitr couldn't help but issue a low whistle of awe at the Ice that erupted forth. "Well, now! That one certainly is quite bold - and fine-looking, for that," he declared to a nearby Candidate. The young Ice's roar and flaring of wings was noted with a smile, though it was a smile that was quick to fade as he recalled the enigmatic egg's warning. He shifted his weight slightly, the Candidate shuffle finally beginning in earnest. The gambler's gaze went onward to the other eggs, the ones that were more visibly twitching. There was the one in the center, too - but surely that one wasn't moving yet, was it?
He couldn't tell.
His concern centered on the newly hatched Ice again - not for the daring dragonet's safety, though, but rather for his own and of his fellow Candidates. The Ice wasn't on any sort of rampage, but still! He kept his eyes on that one for now - just in case.
Shakti stared, wide-eyed, as the first to hatch was an Ice. "That's a good sign, isn't it?" She wondered aloud, the words directed to no one in particular. "Like a bronze hatching, yeah-yeah?" She wasn't entirely sure. Her brow furrowed a little as she watched the young one roar and attempt to look large. She lifted one foot, then the other, with the heat of the sands inspiring her to stay in some kind of motion for now.
And while she would absolutely watch where that Ice went, her attention - predictably - was settled securely on the centered egg with its attendant eggs, gold included. It was a strange configuration indeed, but she wasn't concerned with why things were arranged like that. She was trying to see if there was life in those eggs. Were they wobbling at all? Or was that just her imagination?
Ulyana observed the proceedings impassively. With the emergence of an Ice, more information was revealed. With the dragonet's energies being focused on making a dominating display - with the roar and spreading of wings to emulate something much larger - she shifted her focus temporarily to the eggs that were inspired to motion.
Still, there was not enough information. She needed more.
The peculiarities of the arrangement were vexing and she puzzled over them some more. It was a small luxury she could afford for the time being; there was only one young dragon on the sands and it would be easy enough to track the Ice's progress for now. Her expression remained empty, devoid of emotion, but the slight lift and fall of her feet betrayed some measure of discomfort with the building heat.
Post by shapeshifter on Dec 23, 2018 7:53:41 GMT -8
Lena bubbled with excitement, watching as the Ice flared his wings and attempted a roar to announce his arrival. Her jaw fell slack as she pulled her hands up to her chin and let out a soft, almost inaudible "awe" noise. She felt her heart beat hard, Oh! Such a good sign! Well done, well done! she thought as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, adjusting them a bit to shift the burning Sands heat on them. She moved her arms to let her hands fall to her sides, looking to the other eggs with an excited look.
Taissa stood staring, her eyes scanning for other hatchlings to burst after the Ice made his appearance. His roar, more cute than startling, did send her on edge and bring awareness to herself and her surroundings. She shifted her gaze to the Queen egg, then to the center egg and back. She was nervous.
That sixth egg had sent her into such a chaotic frenzy she found herself more nervous than she should be. She let her attention draw back to the little Ice dragonet, her feet planted firmly on the ground incase he did decide to rampage across the Sands.
R'niaan stood proud, watching the Hatchling unfurl from the entrance of the Sands, not too far still amongst the warmth of the Sands, were tables lined with hunks of raw meat and knifes for the Weyrlings to cut their own hunks. Two drudges stood, pre-cutting the bigger pieces into more manageable pieces for the Weyrlings to cut into smaller bits. Once they finished, they scurried off at R'niaan's direction to report back to the Kitchens for further instruction. A Hatching Feast usually followed and there would be much to do once the Hatching itself had come to a close. The Crimsonrider looked up to Bamath who perched at the dragonledge of the Hatching Grounds, watching the eggs with intensity. His Iron comrade and the Ice Queen had produced a fine clutch, as so proven with the hatching of the Ice dragonet. R'niaan beamed, watching as he roared out and flared his wings in display for the crowd, chortling a bit to himself.
So tiny at birth with such big personality. Reminds me of our days.... he trailed off. Yes, indeed...once before, though I do not remember much..just happiness. Always happiness R'niaan.
While Lena was overly excited, Briselle found herself nervous and uncertain. She seriously questioned her right to stand. Pudgy little cooks weren't exactly rider material in her mind, but she'd vowed to stand by Lena's side. Though the cold was not exactly to her liking, perhaps if she didn't impress they would let her have a place in the kitchens. Even as she hurried after Lena and the others, her mind went to the smallest egg of the clutch and she felt some of her nervousness ebb. At the very least she would be able to see what hatched from that egg, celebrate whatever choice it made.
Mind made up to at least be a supportive presence for Lena and the littlest egg, Briselle took a deep breath and smiled as they reached the entrance. Despite the rush, she'd already grown cold and was eager for the heat of the sands at this point. Despite her resolve to remain positive, when one of the eggs exploded to reveal a dragon that looked very much like the mother, her step faltered and she fell behind Lena for the moment. Watching as the little prince puffed up and let out a little squawk that was supposed to be a roar, Bri smiled and then scurried to take her place among the other candidates.
Ever the lurking presence, Irrakath shifted anxious as one of the eggs began to roll about. Humming, his gaze intent on that animated egg, he couldn't help but swell with pride as a little ice prince shattered through the shell and drew himself up to strike a pose. Feeling his rider's pride only stoked the Iron's own feelings of pride and contentment as he shifted out of the shadows and peered down with whirling eyes at the first hatchling.
In the stands, V'quin picked his way through the gathering crowd, a grin in place as he made his way to Hedara's side. Once he'd reached her, his right hand rested lightly against the small of her back as he leaned in to make himself heard above the thrumming and gathering weyrfolk. "Prosperous start, should make the people happy." Pulling back, V'quin let his hand fall away but stood so that their arms just brushed. He knew full well that she didn't tolerate casual touching in public and honestly wasn't keen on people making a sport out of speculating on their relationship. What they had was between them and for the two of them to figure out in the privacy of their weyr. It certainly for betting between the bored reprobates of the Weyr.
He had been in the middle of something, though with the Ice's voice in his mind and his task slack in his hands, Gillianshon was hard pressed to tell anyone what that was. Excited he snapped to his feet, work clattering to the table, pieces escaping to the floor. He dashed to his quarters, hearing the footsteps of other Candidates. This was why they were here.
Old habits of preparing took over as his nerves shook themselves out lightly. He slipped into the robes and neatly folded the hardly worn clothes from that day for reuse later. He tended a couple loose tangles in his hair, debated the plainness of Candidate attire and ultimately decided better of it (though the longing in his tailor heart to accessorize followed him to the Sands). He took a moment longer than some of those who had arrived and departed in all haste, but he felt the better for dressing properly for the occasion. Why have required attire if there was truly no time for it?
The thrum and the spectacle took his breath away, evaporating thoughts of chilly legs and plain clothes. Dragons and eggs, Candidates and hopeful expressions, and the most dazzling dragonet on display in the center of it all. His hide was a perfect array of colors, blues that were impossible to obtain on all but the most expensive fabrics. And maybe not even then. His feet kept moving out of habit more than will. What a sight!
The Ice dragonet watched the candidates and crowd for a moment, before turning his head to the entrance of the sands. A glint of light reflected off the large blocks of ice that were being moved onto the sands. Apparently his hatching had been so quick and unexpected they were having a hard time keeping up. The dragonet bounced over, but rather then looking at the ice, he watched the people bringing in the ice. A few moments later he trotted across the sands again, not to look at the candidate, but to go sit before Temperanth. The Ice’s eyes whirled with joy and annoyance mixed as she watched her son. Oh dear.
Meantime, the eggs began to move a bit more. It appeared, to those watching very carefully, the eggs at the edges of the formation were moving faster than the ones in the middle. Except one, one of the largest eggs didn’t move at all, and it was near the periphery. It was curious to note, but easily lost in the mass of moving eggs. Especially with one of the smallest eggs getting a crack in it.
Temperanth looked at her son, and it was clear a conversation was occurring. No one, save Hedara, would have any idea what it might be about. The Weyrwoman herself had a fairly decent idea, even though she wasn’t eavesdropping. They were both Ice dragons, after all. Hedara was still too on her guard to miss V’quin’s approach, so she was not startled when he touched her. Otherwise she would not have been prepared. As it was, she still was keenly aware of his touch as he spoke. A very small wry smile came over her face a moment. “One can only hope.” He face went back to a serious intensity and she leaned in to speak again. “I suspect this is far from the most preposterous thing we see this hatching.” She couldn’t explain why exactly, but Temperanth had told her things. Which meant she was eyeing the formation of eggs a little more intently.
After some time Temperanth leaned down and gently pushed the Ice dragonet with her nose. [smear:33ccff]After.[/smear:3366ff] The little one seemed disappointed, but started to make his way toward the candidates. He paused picking a place to start, and started to head to the end of the female candidates.
No other egg had yet to reveal its contents, but a few were showing evidence they might soon. Besides the small egg moving, one of the medium sized eggs was showing cracks as well. Which is why it was all the more surprising when there was suddenly a black leg breaking out of a shell that previously had no cracks in it at all.
Savitr quirked a brow at the Ice's apparent disinterest in the Candidates. "Well, now. I do wonder what that one is up to," he mused aloud to no one in particular. Maybe it was just talking to talk. He continued his shuffle in place, his attention moving from the Ice to the eggs.
"This seems rather slower than I had been led to believe," he observed, though this was mostly to himself. He watched the shifting and rocking of eggs as closely as he could, but the gambler in him balked at the idea of placing bets on the next to hatch. It was poor luck, probably; but, then, it was also nearly impossible to know what eggs were truly ready to burst.
The black leg popping out of one egg just underscored that for him.
The first-hatched Ice's movement was caught again and he watched it askance, noting that it was starting up the line of girls. His mouth teased to a side thoughtfully, but he said nothing; he remained aware of the Ice's movements, just in case, but the moving eggs were a significant point of concern now.
Shakti fidgeted on the sands, feet moving and fingers plucking at her robe with a sense of agitation. Excitement was slowly starting to make way for anxiety, as the other eggs continued to rock - but nothing further seemed ready to hatch. The Ice's adventures earned a pursed lip look from the cosmetologist-turned-Candidate, but what was to be done? The dragonet would do as desired. And what could she do, anyway? Stalk over and push him toward other Candidates?
It was a ludicrous thought that threatened to turn into a full laugh; she quickly turned her head and coughed into the crook of her elbow instead. More eggs started wobbling and, eventually, a black leg erupting from one egg provided another point of speculation. And then, finally, the Ice seemed interested in finding a lifemate; at the least, the Candidates were finally getting some attention! She shifted her focus from the eggs to the Ice as the dragonet traveled toward them.
The eggs continued to garner the bulk of her attention, but now there was a properly wandering Ice to keep track of!
Ulyana observed the Ice's explorations with relative indifference. She had no previous experience with regards to dragons or hatchings, so there could be no judgment on the dragonet's behavior. Her gaze flicked briefly to the ice blocks, then back to the Ice, then to the Queen when the smaller dragon went to her. The shifting eggs were, then, the greater point of focus for so long as the dragonet was not moving about on the sands.
The rate of rocking and wobbling was a peculiar thing. She watched and filed away the particulars as best she could, but there were too many variables. Too many unknowns. When a black limb burst from one egg, her attention sharpened and fixed there for a long moment.
But then the Ice was on the move again and her regard shifted obliquely to track the young dragon's progress along the female Candidates. The observation continued, if out of the corner of her eye.
A grin spread across Gil's face as he witnessed the Hatching start. The Ice was finally off to inspect the Candidates, having gained whatever wisdom or firm direction a young dragonet needed from its mother. Good for that one, though with his hide of such lovely colors Gil held in a sigh that he wasn't moving closer for him to inspect. The blues carefully graced with little white accents, it was subtle and stunning at once. He could hardly focus elsewhere, though the aloud musing of another reached his ears all the same, though the words made no impression on him of meaning caught up in the thrum and the hum and the cheers and the gasps and whispers and the sounds of the Hatching.
A shell shattering drew eyes, and new comments, speculation, the character of the sounds changed. Or maybe he was imagining it? The same events were all still taking place. He took in the dark leg breaking free and felt torn to watch it hatch, or else see if the other eggs were now cracking, or if that Ice had chosen his. He had been told of the excitement in many words, and it was in no way understated.
Post by shapeshifter on Dec 27, 2018 6:07:01 GMT -8
Lena grinned as she felt Briselle move next to her, "This is it!" she whispered as she leaned towards her friend. She rocked back and forth from the ball of her heel to the tips of her toes, nervous for the coming moments. She then, like all the other Candidates, turned her head towards the black leg sticking from a shell. "Oh~ Briselle!" she said, "Look..." she said in a breathless manner, the sheer amazement of the occurrence overcoming her. She looked hopefully for the familiar eggs of 18 and 19, but their new order threw her off and she wasn't sure which was which. The Ice started its way towards them! She inched closer to Briselle, hoping the Ice would find his impression soon.
Taissa watched the Ice and his mother appear to exchange words. She then turned her head, the leg of a possible black dragonet sticking from the shell. She grinned and felt hopeful once more, her anxiety had begun to ease away. Then the Ice headed their way. She stood still, her chest tightened for a moment. The fleeting thought of impressing the Ice ran through her mind. Marvelous, but much too good for me.... some good male candidates are in our bunch. she thought. She was fighting herself, her own negative thoughts once again. There would be a dragonet good for her, right?
The Ice examined the female candidates, moving down the line steadily. When he reached Ulyana, he paused and tilted his head slightly, as though he were trying to figure out something. Behind him, at the eggs, something was beginning to happen.
The egg with a black leg sticking out of it, broke further, a wing appearing, until finally the egg broke and released the Black dragonet onto the sands. He shook off egg shell and without any fanfare, started through the eggs toward the candidates. As he was on the far side, he went right through the middle, by the center egg. Now, whether by design or accident, his tail hit the middle egg as he strode forward. He did not turn back, even though the moment he was past the egg in the center lunged toward where the Black had been a moment ago, falling to its side. The Black didn’t appear to notice, making a line to the male candidates.
The center egg twitched slightly, a web of cracks forming. Again, and the web expanded. With a final movement the egg shattered, and there was a sudden sprawling with sand being kicked up around the newly hatched dragonet. The dust settled and standing, tail whipping behind it was a crimson red dragonet with black coating its head. His mouth was open, teeth not quite touching in a low hiss. He was quite the physical looking specimen, balancing the aerial wings of a Black with the raw power of the Crimson king. His gaze moved slowly about the sands, in the same way a large feline looked for prey.
Savitr's brows lifted as the Ice seemed to be stopped somewhere down the line. Those brows lifted further when the Black finally hatched and started the march toward the Candidates. The gambler didn't see the tail-strike to the middle egg, but he certainly saw the aftermath - the violent eruption of a Crimson-Black King was decidedly eye-catching.
In that moment, he understood what the egg had told him.
He wet his lips and sucked his teeth and shifted his weight slightly on the sands for the sake of both comfort and preparedness. The Black was watched with renewed wariness, but the Crimson-Black was not far from his thoughts - or gaze. For the first time during the hatching, he was struck utterly silent, his usual commentary swallowed instead.
Shakti followed the progress of the Ice until he seemed to stop at someone. Was that Impression? She squinted, but couldn't be sure. No matter, the dragonet had stopped and she allowed her guard to relax for a few moments.
But then a Black fully hatched and she 'ooohed' and 'aaahed' over it for a few moments. At least that one didn't hesitate to sniff out the Candidates! Though he seemed to have more of a focus on the boys. She kept the Black in her peripheral vision, or intended to, until the Crimson-Black burst onto the Sands.
"Were you the righteously angry one?" She breathed the words just under her breath, her lips pursing just a little. She couldn't tell by the sizes of the eggs; they'd been moved around and she couldn't precisely tell. "You seem like that's the one you were." She kept a keen eye on the bold King, tensing up just a little while she watched him, waiting for the moment when his visual hunt would turn into a physical one.
Ulyana's sidelong consideration of the Ice became more and more focused on the dragonet as he made his way down the line. By the time that he paused before her, the entire, intense weight of her unblinking regard settled fully on him. Her head tilted just a touch to one side, mirroring his movement. She said nothing, however, studying him as wordlessly as he seemed to be studying her.
For only a fleeting moment, she was threaded through with prepared tension, ready to run should the incident require it. A moment later and that tension was gone, replaced with a distinct sense of awareness: if he's this close already, what possible good could running do to save her if he turned violent? She took that time instead to contemplate his form and coloration, to speculate on his nature, while the chaos continued in the background.
Post by shapeshifter on Dec 28, 2018 16:58:07 GMT -8
Lena gasped at the sight of the Crimson bursting from his shell. "Look Briselle~!" she said breathlessly. She reached out to her friend, not even looking, and would move to grab her hand for a light little squeeze of comfort, "We've got this." she said, shifting her weight from foot to foot in excitement.
Taissa bit her lower lip to silence herself as the center egg burst forth, the sixth, reveling a burning hot Crimson red dragonet. His entire aura exhibiting that of a hunter. She tensed herself, her mind shifting more aggressive at the sight of him, digging her heels in the ground. She reminded herself over and over that she was going to impress the day before, her certainty from those moments rising in her chest as she stared the dragonet down. Her eyes cut to the Queen egg, no motion at that moment. She looked back to the Crimson and kept her guard. She made no attempts to acknowledge the Black dragonet at this moment.
R'niaan grinned as three dragonets now roamed the Sands, his eyes fixated on the Crimson when it burst through. He looked over to Bamath, acknowledging the Crimson's wings furling out. He grinned broadly, You have a protégé on those Sands. he laughed, the Crimson partner chimed, [smear:#8b0c0c]Yes if his temper does not outgrow mine.[/smear:#5f0a0a:0] Bamath's tail wasn't twitching like he normally would when his interest would peak, no, his tail flicked and swung wildly from his ledge. His claws dug into the stone as his neck craned to look below.