It's Quite an Elaborate Scheme (Dael's Clutch)

[neeuqtar]

A Suzerainty of Salamandyrs

There had been a coup on the Hatching Sands.

The new government of the hallowed ground of dragon birth and lifelong Impression was completely authoritarian. The rolling desert had sprouted a capital city from the hands of slaves, at whose center jutted a deadly palisade defending the new and decadent palace. The new Dictator of the Sands slept in her treasury, stolen rings and jewels ticking through her claws as she moved her prizes around, secretly admiring them while maintaining her aloof disdain of anything that attempted to so much as appear gold. She knew there was nothing so beautiful as herself, and as her treasures were claimed by the grains of sand, she merely had more tribute brought, refusing to so much as set toenail into the rolling grains all around her, caressing her most precious treasures and heating the metal to a temperature that would have burned a lesser creature.

Sometimes she slept upon silks instead.

Defending her sanctum of gold was blood and iron. Daggers and knives—many purloined from Stores which rightly belonged to kitchens—jutted from the sand, in twin concentric circles. The central circle was tight and tall, with one particular one, a dirk with a wire hilt and a black diamond pommelstone, buried past the hilt. The usurper had lusted too much after the gleaming darkness of the stones, and the temptation had to be removed without taking away the protection of her treasures. The iron smelt of oil and steel, and the taste in the air was of blood. Some of these blades had tasted blood before… and some might again, this eve.

Languidly, the tyrant queen unfurled herself from her resting place, stretching with the coiled movements of a feline, comfortable in her lair. Her long tail swirled amongst the seventeen orbs half-buried in the sand—twelve eggs bearing living creatures, and five of stone. Yawning once more, she revealed her ivory fangs, her green tongue flicking out for a moment before her jaws snapped shut. Lazily, she blinked. She was hungry, and her slaves ought to feed her soon. But not just yet. She had matters of state to attend to…

Breezes stirred the crater in which her desert kingdom lay, the far-off backwinging of a dragon. A shadow dropped over her capital city, and she looked up and hissed, her frills flaring wide in feral display. The disapproving face of the blue dragon stared down at her, his eyes hidden behind green glass orbs. Behind the olive, his eyes whirled yellow.

You cannot stop them from leaving, you know, the dragon informed her, the setting sun silhouetting him. At this angle, you couldn’t even see that he was missing a headknob, nor see the scars on his neck, shoulders, haunches. He tilted his head, listening to something which couldn’t be heard with ears. This bright suzerainty will soon fade, but the repercussions pf today will be felt for ages to come.

“What the feck does that even mean, Adith?” Uu’n asked laughingly as he swung off the dragon, strolling over to the broken top of a table which he had left leaning against the Stands. He’d slept in the tunnel connecting the Hatching Sands to the outside world—at least for humans—but those things had already been moved. Uu’n, unlike Adith and the tiny sovereign of the sand, had been up for candlemarks already. With a grunt, Uu’n heaved up the heavy round of wood, walking slowly along a series of already-sandy boards he’d placed earlier in the day. Carefully, he lay it down, a place for those coming to stand on without burning up. He didn’t expect anyone to want to stand in the scorching hot sands for long, particularly not for one of the little monsters Dael was known for begetting.

You have starting swearing worse than Showoff, Adith observed, completely ignoring Uu’n’s question. The bluerider rolled his eyes, before collapsing onto the tabletop on the sand. Legs sprawled forward, he propped himself up from behind with his arms and huffed a sigh.

“Do not,” he countered. The desert despot stared at him, clearly unhappy. “Don’t give me that look,” he said. “It’s got to be any day now, and there isn’t anybody who will wade through sand for salamandyrs. Particularly not me.”

Hate you, the salamandyr said, resigned. She reared up, saying something silently to Adith.

Same to you, he replied cheerfully. And ‘now’ is a fairly accurate representation of time, I would think.

“Wait—“ The blue didn’t. Rearing up, his wings unfurled across the reddening sky, cutting silver-violet swathes across it. The dying light shone through the membranes, highlighting the delicate bones and veins of the draconic wings.

With the tone of a singer, Adith howled, one which echoed around the Hatching Grounds before belling into the skies, amplified by the natural amphitheatre-shape of the Grounds. The melancholy sound was accompanied by a simple summons—the golden Daeluunya’s salamandyr Clutch is Hatching, on the Grounds. Standing room only.

Uu’n winced, ears ringing from the force of Adith’s cry. Thanks, love, he sighed. Call K’lir, will you?

I’m sure he’s on his way, the blue said cheerfully, settling down on his haunches again, forefeet barely brushing the heated sand. More importantly, are you going to take up the entire standing room?[/i]

“I should,” he muttered, getting up. Dael pranced back and forth, eyes twin rubies, her tail twitching behind her as she circled and twined through deadly blades and just-trembling eggs, never once touching the ground. But Uu’n moved aside, and strode onto the heated sand. Even through his sturdy boots, he could feel the heat. The blond man raised a near-invisible eyebrow at his blue, who settled down, neck arched over the fortress of steel, his wings half-furled. Uu’n stepped onto Adith’s foreleg, supporting himself with the riding straps.

Hopefully people would bring meat with them… he rather wanted eat his meatrolls, after all.

[neeuqtar]

Bronze Showoff & Gold Daeluunya are proud to present…
The Pick Your Poison Clutch
Guaranteed to make an impression.

At the center of the hatching sands is, for all appearances, a ring of blades. Knives have been shoved into the ground, with the hilts buried beneath the scalding sands so that the blades stick up sharply for all to see. Light glints off the metallic surfaces prominently enough so that anyone who comes close is liable to notice… and those who don’t will find their feet sliced clean open. Just to further emphasize, though, several torn up shirts are laid around the ring of daggers, the colors bright enough to be impossible to miss. They say without words “Danger! Danger! Don’t Walk Here!” and for good reason:

Inside the ring of blades are dozens of earrings, rings, bracelets, shells and other shiny, reflective surfaces that bring prominence to the twelve-egg clutch that is nestled in the sands. So small are these eggs that one might overlook them, especially considering that they’re right smack dab in the middle of hatching sands large enough to accommodate dragon eggs. The clutch itself is well-maintained, and the collection of stolen treasures only emphasizes the nest all the more. The casual viewer might notice – if they’re paying attention – that all of the eggs seem to have vibrant color schemes.

Most things in nature that are dangerous tend to be brightly colored and salamandyr clutches are no exception.

01. Rattlesnake Egg[/size]
This egg is arguably the strangest of all of Dael's eggs-- it... rustles. The ground color of the egg is a light gray-brown, overlaid with a series of large, dark brown blotches with faintly paler center spots. The blotches are fairly diamond in shape, with a paler outline around them. Close examination, however, reveals the source of the rustling. The egg appears to almost be peeling, as if it had a bad case of sunburn. The very apex of the egg, however, bears the worst of the damage, with the whole tip being nothing but layers of loosely connected shell, which makes a rattling, rustling noise every time this active egg shifts.

Moderately large, this egg is not very egg-shaped, instead being rather long and skinny. However, it doesn't seem to have affected the salamandyr within adversely, for Dael continues tending the egg with the same obsessive care that she lavishes on her other eggs. As she is well-known for both eating fire-lizard eggs as well as her ability to tell just what's in an egg, this is probably good proof that this funky, misshapen egg is still alive, and not just a place-saver in her meticulously arranged nest.

02. Black Widow Egg[/size]
What a stunner this egg is! Pure, gleaming black, it looks as if it could have been carved from a flawless piece of jet, then polished until no mark of human tools remained upon it. Though one of the smaller eggs, it has a definite presence about it, as if, rather than being overlooked in its corner, once noted, it seems as if one can simply not forget this egg. It seems almost as if this egg is lurking, simply waiting-- nay, daring-- for a hardy soul to come nearby. And woe betide the soul who dares touch! For the egg is hot, scorchingly so, and a single touch may singe the fingertips and leave behind blistered flesh in its wake.

The real shocker, though, is the underside of this egg. For though the shiny black surface of the back is usually revealed to the world, if one is lucky enough to catch Dael turning the eggs, a brilliant sight is revealed. A subtle barring of the rather flattened body gives the appearance of legs, curled tightly to the chest, as if at any moment the deadly widow may unfurl her long limbs, lifting that black form clear of the sand, and baring the brilliant crimson hourglass imprinted upon it to the world which dare disturbed her slumber!

03. Dart Frog Egg[/size]
The first thing which might come to mind when first viewing this egg is “poison!” Slick and shiny, it even looks like a simple touch would transfer enough deadly venom to send a victim into toxic shock. Of course, no salamandyr egg could do that... right? At least Dael seems unharmed by her contact with the egg, which lays as if crouched on its own little bed of sand in the ring of eggs, as if every other egg doesn't wish to come into contact with its gleaming self. It's on the smallish side, but that doesn't affect how rapidly this egg demands attention!

Yellow and black are splotched together, the edges completely clean, as if someone spilled black ink across a vivid yellow surface of some sort, marking it indelibly with gleaming wet black. Though still, unlike some of the clutch, it is a waiting stillness, as if at any moment the egg could unfurl, perfectly formed, and leap away in venomous beauty. Perhaps the only marring of this sleek coloration lies near the apex of the egg, which rests on the sand, the egg horizontal. Two nearly complete, deep sapphire orbs-- so nearly black!-- enclose true black, looking for all the world like staring, watchful eyes...

04. Oleander Egg[/size]
In a word, this egg could be described as “evergreen.” Whorls of dark greens, almost like small scales, mark the entire surface of the egg, ranging from near-black to a bright, clear pine coloration, reminiscent of the evergreen forests of the far north. From far away, the egg looks almost to be covered in a zig-zag pattern, as if leaves grew up from parallel twigs running along the surface of the egg. However, up close, it's merely an illusion, caused by the eye trying to find some sort of pattern in the finely veined surface of the egg.

Strikingly, on one side of the egg is a five-lobed blotch of pink. To the imaginative, it might even have the look of a flower, perhaps growing from the evergreen plant in which it nestles. If one dares touch, the egg is rough, except for its smooth and silky pink blotch. But it leaves a strange feeling afterward on the fingers, as if a sticky, milky residue has been left behind. Nonsense, of course... yet nevertheless, it just might be safest to wash one's hands after handling the shell of this egg. And if you stare at it too long, it seems almost that the heart beats faster, and breath comes shallower... a strange affect, perhaps due to the creature within.

05. Jellyfish Egg[/size]
This egg looks the most friendly of the whole Clutch. A pale, almost watery color, the shell is almost grayish, though “gray” doesn't give full due to the delicacy of the color. Less the color of ash and more that of rain, it is smooth and glossy, and looks as if it should be clear, like the finest of glass. Iridescence marks this shell in opalescent blues and the colors of pearls, in clearly defined circles and whorls which nonetheless seems to blend seamlessly with the color itself, everything looking transparent and almost ethereal, as if a single touch would permanently damage the shell.

The only thing which looks perhaps less-than-fragile are opaque bands of white striating the shell loosely, starting at a rough, warped section at the base of the egg and streaming upwards. But beware-- though the egg itself may seem fragile (and indeed, it is, bearing slight scratches from the sand and Dael's claws), those white strips are a different matter indeed! For their coloration is due, not to the vagaries of light, but due to the shell itself, which is rough and almost splintery, with tiny spines that break off at the lightest touch, burning in the skin like spines from a cactus. This egg has bite!

06. Scorpion Egg[/size]
The burning sands it rests on are the perfect home for this egg. Large and tan, it’s easy to miss at first: the hard, ridged shell is a close match for the miniature dunes in which it nestles. Of course, like many of the eggs in this Clutch, the closer you look, the more detail comes to the mind, suggesting a shape and a malevolence of intent. The ridges look almost like plates of chitinous armor, with the lifted, ridged edges a deeper red-brown than the warm sand color. It gleams with a mottled luster, the shell dappled with tiny pricks of roughness. Certainly this isn’t a pretty egg, but it has it’s own sort of attraction, albeit a rather deadly one.

The lower surface of the egg is paler than the upper, with red-gold streaked markings oddly reminiscent of legs, and perhaps the belly plates of some armored creature. Ridges pattern along the back of the egg in stripes of sandy color deepening into brown at the lifted edges. The base of the egg bears two small, black circles, like beady, cunning eyes, framed by two wide sections of almost unbroken red-brown. The apex, however, darkens to a rustier color, and, most oddly, a sharp piece of shell juts up along the edge of the shell. Run your finger along the intriguing surface of this egg, and you just might end up leaving a drop of red on that rust-brown tip.

07. Brown Recluse Egg[/size]
This egg is one of the most unassuming eggs in the Clutch. It’s a little on the small side, even for salamandyr eggs, and looks as if it was rolled out of a ball of grayish clay, perhaps by a small child with dirty hands. Indeed, the shell is somewhat nubbly, with warped eggshell and lumps stuck onto what might be a roundish orb underneath all the extra bits. The space inside the egg must be cramped indeed, especially for a growing salamandyr… luckily, the odd creatures are smaller than firelizards, and what might prove death for a flit could be only inconvenience for a ‘mandyr.

But take the time to look a little longer, and strange things happen with your eyes. Blotches and streaks seem to warp just a little, creeping and shifting with predatory slowness, sliding across the lumpy eggshell with menacing intent. The affect is a little creepy at first, but easily dismissed as a trick of the eye—until, that is, you take a look from just the right angle! Arachnophobes beware, for the illusion of this odd little egg is a brown spider, long legs splayed across the shell, gripping the rough surface with pinprick tips. A heavy, grey-brown abdomen and a reddish head sit atop an almost wounded area of the egg, resting lightly on the shell. If you touch it, will the fingers meet warm, hard shell… or the cool softness of a deadly creature roused to anger?

08. Gila Monster Egg[/size]
One of the few positively beautiful eggs in this Clutch, the Gila Monster Egg is predominantly orange and black. Blotches of color roll across the pebbled shell of the egg in rippled waves, banding the medium-sized shell with alternating black and pinkish yellow-orange. The black bands are speckled with the same odd orange color, with more towards the center, but only speckled; the orange bands are pure streamers of color, wrapping around the egg unblemished. Some of the black looks a little sun-bleached, almost a browned color, similar to the color of a black runner's fur in midsummer. While this might be a vagary of shell coloration, more likely it's due to the slow, methodical movements the egg constantly makes... or are Dael and Showoff just turning it all the time while nobody is looking?

One thing is for certain, though: the baby coming out of this egg is either going to be a larger color, or fat. Either that, or the shell will be too thick to penetrate, for the egg is heavy. Unlike many of the other eggs, which are easy to pick up and weigh scarcely a gram, there is a firm weight to this egg, a sense that, if allowed to, it would burrow down and down and down into the sand and never come back up. Indeed, it has a tendency to get covered, or almost covered, by the sand it lays on, so that only a little bit of the brilliant, pebbly surface shows from under a coating of camouflaging grit.

09. Belladonna Egg[/size]
Poison can be pretty, and the atropa belladona plant, namesake of this egg and one of the two deadly nightshade plants, is one of them. And this egg got its name for a very good reason. Large and a layered, light spring green color, the shell of this egg is lovely indeed. It has a dull luster, like pewter, and to the touch feels almost velvety, a texture corresponding to its quiet gleam. A few small, round, and very black dots mark the lower part of the egg, near duller purple splotches fading into green-- berries, perhaps, and some nondescript flowers?

Like the plant itself, the salamandyr in this egg seems to have a strange sway over the mind. Spend too long feeling for the mind of this 'mandyr, and you might end up dizzy, pupils taking in far too much light, with a headache and a good dose of dizziness. Even Dael seems to keep a little away from her odd young, turning it when necessary but otherwise letting it lie in one of the more out-of the way areas of the nest. Unlike Atropa, of course, touching this egg will not leave one with deadly toxin on one's fingers, though eating it would be... highly discouraged. Though the little green egg won't make your heart stop dead, the revenge of a salamandyr mother is brutal and their memories very, very long!

10. Cobra Egg[/size]
Almost directly opposite the Rattlesnake Egg, this medium-largish egg is almost its complete opposite. As opposed to its lanky, flaky sibling, this egg is almost perfectly round, with an odd, rough texture-- almost sandy, or corded, like a ball of rope. Its color is a tan, the color of reeds and wheat, with small speckles of a slightly darker color throughout. All in all, a fairly unremarkable egg... right? Well, yes-- on one side. On the other side, a wavy splash of very dark brown marks the egg, almost as if someone was painting nearby, a little too vigorously for tidiness, and lost a gobbet of paint off the tip of the brush.

Indeed, it is that wild mark that earned the egg its name. Sinuous, it's tiny on one end, wiggling up the egg to a splashed dot on the very top of the egg. It's almost impossible not to think of a snake when you look at it (so long as you ignore the little halo of dots around it, that is! Someone was a very messy painter indeed). It's only at the very top of the mark that any of the base color shows through, though what does is... odd, to say the least. Two rings connected by a drooping line mark what could be the hood of a very venomous cobra, with the surrounding brown mark so near to black as to be indistinguishable. It's very pretty, but a warning as well: get too close, and you'll get fangs in your fingers. Not cobra fangs, though-- you should count yourself lucky that neither Dael nor Showoff have figured out how to make themselves venomous. Yet, anyway...

11. Deathstalker Egg[/size]
As dark as its name, this egg is certainly not pleasant to look at. The gleaming shell is rippled, as if it was once much larger and forced into its current size and almost flattened configuration. It almost gives the egg the appearance of plates of black and smoky grey armor, stacked heavy upon each other in wicked defense. Defense against what isn’t entirely clear—the egg lies close to the center of Dael’s Clutch, and though she doesn’t preen on it overly much, her rapt attention is lavished upon each of her eggs. Nevertheless, this egg waits in anticipation of aggression, perfectly still (unlike many of the others in this particular Clutch), as if lurking under the shadows of its mother’s golden wings.

Aside from the aura of almost tangible menace the Deathstalker Egg seems to exude, this egg is alluring. While not pretty in the nominal sense of the word, this egg is gorgeously detailed, in blacks and greys and an odd sandy color only a breath away from black. The shell is satin, but hard and hot, and if one was to run fingers along the jutting ridges dissecting the smooth curves, they are rough enough to abrade the flesh, leaving oozing wounds. Even Dael only delicately touches this egg, turning it with her long claws, rather than brave accidental slices from the broken shell.

12. Lionfish Egg[/size]
This egg could easily be called the true beauty of the Clutch. Intricately barred with gold, tawny brown, and white, every angle leaves a different impression. Lying atop the sand, as opposed to nestled deep within (to better show off its colors, perhaps?), this bold and brilliant egg is something of a showstopper. Lines of black running perpendicular to the golden barring seem to outline something—fins, perhaps, or strips of some strange kelp or coral. Sand seems afraid to stick to the shell, which is halfway between matte and glossy. While smooth, the shell lacks the reflective luster of many of its Clutchmates, though this detracts little from its glorious coloration.

Easily the largest egg in the Clutch, the Lionfish Egg has tempted many to declare a gold salamandyr within, something Dael has remained remarkably closemouthed about. But have they forgotten? Only the golden dragon eggs hint at what hides within, for “little” gold Brat’s egg had nothing of the metal about it. Whatever lurks in this commanding egg seems content to, well, lurk, waiting for the proper time to make an entrance on the world. And is that a line of fangs near the bottom… or simply another streak of white?

[Ember]

Eikane yawned loudly before clapping a hand over his mouth. He hadn't woken her had he? The golden wher curled up on her couch didn't stir at all and the Harper breathed a sigh of relief. No windows to judge the time properly but he suspected it was a bit too early for her to be up yet. Still some time to himself and be able to keep his and Eikask's thoughts to themselves. It was still slightly disturbing just how easily he could gain insight into her mind, and vice versa.

The young man donned a simple shirt and a pair of light pants. Cool enough for the southern temperatures, warm enough to keep the slight chill of night away. As he left his room he glanced again at the sleeping wher and a brief smile flickered across his face. The bond both disturbed him and made him feel..complete. Try as he might he couldn't remember feeling incomplete before the bonding but he could clearly see how he'd seem that way if he lost her. Such a stange girl she was.

The man stepped out into the setting sun and yawned again. He was right, still a bit early. He'd see about some breakfast and then probably return to the wherhandlers' apartments to an awakened Eikask. She didn't like waking up alone but she'd have to learn not everything would go her way. In this area, she was an incredibly slow learner. A voice cut into his thoughts and he jumped gracelessly. That had to have been a dragon. Salamandyr hatching hmm? Knowing full well he might regret it the wherling headed towards the hatching grounds instead.

He was not the only one, he noted with surprised amusement. A large brown was depositing his rider nearby and a blue and his rider were already inside the grounds. As T'san berated his dragon (to little effect), Eikane wandered into the hot, sandy area. He was very thankful for the wooden boards providing a less burning path to the little clutch in the middle. He greeted Uu'n with, "Good morning." A bit odd considering the time but since it was morning to the goldhandler he saw no issues with it.

T'san muttered low curses until about halfway into the hatching grounds. It wasn't so much that he was extremely opposed to the idea of being at the hatching, it was the manor in which he arrived. Dsoleth, upon hearing Adith's announcement, had mercilessly scooped up his fleeing rider and taken flight. Riding a dragon was one thing...being carried was a completely other story. Nontheless, he took a spot after a polite wave to the bluerider present.

[rii]

"WHY–"

Trel hopped out of his bed, snarling as he came up onto his bare feet. "–Do they have to be so loud? I don't need a sharding wake-up call. They could at least let a guy sleep in the night, don't they realize I don't get the luxury in the morning? Honestly. What is their problem!?" The thief padded over to his dresser, quite familiar with everything in his room despite the nearly complete darkness. Quintresk wasn't even helping him see at the moment, the brown had moved to peer curiously out the door. Trel angrily pulled a shirt on over his head, already in sleep pants. He shoved his feet into sandals and marched his way over to also peer into the hallway.

Quintresk quietly shared the information that had come from the dragon.. something about hatching on the grounds.. He could remember the grounds, but he had never seen a hatching.. yet it was still too bright out. Trel gave a slight sigh, rubbing the wher on the head. "I'll go check it out for you and share. Okay?" Oh yes, that would work. Curious the brown was about the salamandyr hatching..

And so, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Quintrell wandered his way toward the hatching grounds. His feet came down heavily, over emphasizing his tired state of being.. but about halfway there the thief perked up. He had recalled that there was a lovely stash of shinies in those sands. Not that he could get near without that gold making a fuss.. and the sands were too hot to cross.. and it was too much effort at the time of sighting for him to construct a bridge out there.. and listen to the damn mandyr. Perhaps in the fuss of hatching he could get near enough to nick of few of their treasures. It appealed to him, the idea of snatching a few items in plain view of everyone else..

Only, Quintrell didn't see very many people upon his arrival.. hm.. oh, someone had put boards on the sands. The thief gave a finger-waggling wave at the man standing on the blue dragon's leg. Kind of.. strange that he was out there alone.. but.. eh. Quintrell trailed off to the side, intent on just watching the hatching for Quintresk's sake.

Maybe in all the excitement he could sneak out there..

–

F'lix was just starting up the stairs that went along the cliffside–destined to go to turn in for the evening, when the cry went up. The dark haired rider gave a soft snort, not pausing as he started the ascent. Salamandyrs.. what nuisances. Why would anyone in the right mind want something so utterly useless bonded to them. His mind flashed to the two little greens that had invaded his room. They were a.. liability, just asking to get hurt and in turn damage their mindmate. Worthless.

Yet..

The bluerider had not seen one of these hatchings, and he felt vaguely curious about it. And as all things that start out as a small wonder for F'lix.. it soon nagged at it, gnawed at his conscious until finally he found himself altering his course to take him toward the hatching sands. He merely wanted to watch–and only just this once, for a mental memory, nothing more.

Positively scowling, nearly seething with annoyance as he arrived, F'lix just moved aside from the actual clutch (giving it only an noting glance) and opted to sit in the stands. There, decked out in his dark leathers and raven black hair.. he would hardly noticeable (or so he hoped) in the evenings fading light. The blue rider reclined, stretching out his legs before himself and crossing them at the ankle. Up here he would be able to view the entire show.. and scoff at those who actually wanted to impress to the noisy beasts of burden.

Arms crossed over his chest and a golden slitted glare cast off to view the man on the sands.. oh, Uu'n, nightwatch. Hn, F'lix suddenly chuckled to himself, he was bonded to the gold mandyr? How delightful. His gaze raised to watch the arrival of.. oh see, things keep getting better–that odd brownrider. T'san, wasn't it? Good, F'lix mused, more idiots in the sands to bond with the equally annoying salamandyrs.

[Requiem]

He leaned against the wall, idly kicking a stone off the opposing wall. Chick. Chick. Chick. The dragon voice in his head was vaguely familiar, if only because he'd heard it on occasion before, saying pretty much the same thing. Time for more annoying little pests, eh? He'd never really been interested in pets. Inocenth was problematic enough on a good day. The blue stirred on his ledge, easing an eye open in a glare that would have been deadly if it could have penetrated so many layers of rock. He wasn't too appreciative of the thought, and even less appreciative of why F'ur was lingering outside his weyr in the corridor. What wherrybrain had made them neighbors with Saboth's and His? Maybe they should meet the end of his claws...

The ex-Fortian had been patient enough, but it appeared his patience wasn't going to yield any results. Should have just continued as he was with the kitten. Clearly it just amused F'lix to leave him strande- He caught sight of movement, a flash of dark hair and a familiar, prowling grace. Going in the wrong direction, though. Up? Toward the...really? Why would the kitten want a screamer?

Forgetting the nasty little thoughts and doubts flitting through his mind - he had decided to wait for the other bluerider to just make sure his suspicions were correct, after all, and now that plan was ruined by what must be an instant of insanity on F'lix's part - F'ur stuffed his hands in his pockets and trailed F'lix curiously. The man stepped lightly, keeping silent, but it seemed the other was too immersed in his own thoughts to notice F'ur anyway. And yes, he clearly was headed for the Hatching Sands. Without a bowl of meat, however. Must not be familiar with procedures.

It was as good a excuse as any, and he did want to talk to the little blighter again, so F'ur stopped by for some meat. But he didn't see F'lix on the Sands and...ah. There. Without going near the opening, he slipped up into the Stands, moving fluidly. Not too fast to draw most people's attention, but not too slow to be suspicious if F'lix happened to catch sight of him. His intention, however, was of course to avoid the other's attention so F'lix couldn't flee.

He dropped the bowl in the ex-Bendenite's lap, certain the fast little man would catch it on instinct. "Missing something. I wouldn't have pegged you for someone who wanted a screamer," he commented drolly, settling his bare foot next to F'lix on the bench and leaning his elbows on his knee.

[Avu]

Ooh, that startled me – must it be /now/?

The young gold’s plaintive comment made Meira look up from adding a rim of white to her flight straps. Unnecessary decoration, but it made it prettier, standing out from both the hatchling’s honey-colored hide and from the dark brown leather of the actual straps. And she really had nothing better to do; Riaren had been taken hostage by R’wign for time being, and Jingth had been sprawled happily outside, trying to soak up what little remained of the sunlight. Mmphh, so unfair. Must the sun go down? It felt so lovely on her hide, and made her glitter so; she didn’t like it when it went down…Jingth lifted her head at the wry amusement she felt from Hers, and crooned softly before turning to look curiously in the direction of the Hatching Sands. Her wings flipped up and she rolled to her feet with one more complaining grumble, shaking dust off of her hide. There; now she was as glittery as ever.

“Are you really complaining?” Meira inquired, setting down the straps and rubbing a small prick on her forefinger absently with her other thumb and crinkling her nose in slight disapproval of the needle. “The sun’s about to go down anyway…not like you missed much.”

I would have liked to stay until it was /all/ gone, Jingth replied, still plaintively, before she slid fluidly over to Hers and rubbed her head against the weyrlingrider’s arm in a gentle show of affection. Are you going to go watch? Checkoth’s said Baoth’s invited you. It was clear that this invitation made it special; she’d bet the greenweyrling hadn’t invited anyone else and it just made a point of how wonderful Hers was, see? Oh, yes, Jingth very much wanted to flaunt that they had been invited, even though technically Hatchings required no invitation at all, let alone a Salamandyr Hatching. The hatchling is with Checkoth’s so you don’t have to worry about that, Jingth added helpfully. Would you like me to ask Checkoth to make sure it’s all right? You’re worried, you know…

“It won’t be necessary, lovely.” Meira looked down at the half-decorated straps cautiously, and then back up at Jingth. “Weyrlings aren’t allowed to attend Salamandyr Hatchings…even just watching, I mean. There’s a risk, isn’t there…?” Nevertheless, she got up, gesturing for Jingth to follow her back into the Barracks to put up the straps, sliding them over one of the posts on the bed before she touched Jingth’s jaw, curiously. “Do you really want to go, beautiful? Really? You couldn’t go by yourself…? I’d feel awkward going, you know, just showing up and watching everything…” A slight frown caught the corner of her mouth, but Jingth’s hopeful croon made it vanish again, melting into an adoring smile of resignation before she nodded, sliding her fingers down the gold’s neck before she headed for the exit again, Jingth following her contentedly. Checkoth wouldn’t be there, and Behruth wouldn’t either, but maybe someone else would be, someone she could flop up against since the sun had ceased to provide her with warmth.

Sliding through the entrance to the Hatching Sands, Meira turned to make sure Jingth didn’t follow her onto the Stands, but found it unneeded; the young queen had already been distracted by one of the other dragons nearby and Meira blinked in amusement before she made her way up the steps and onto the Stands, blinking down at the small gathering below – and above. There were other people in the Stands too. Surprising… Nobody did she recognize, save for – T’san. Oh, was he the reason that Jingth had been distracted, then? Dsoleth? The weyrlingrider stood awkwardly a moment, squinting in an attempt to make out the forms of the eggs, before she sat down slowly in one of the front seats, pressing her elbows against the railing and resting her chin against one palm. It did feel strange looking down, watching, as she was, and she did feel awkward, but nobody seemed to have noticed…yet, anyway, and when the clutch started Hatching she didn’t think they would think to look.

Dsoleth! Jingth’s mental call was accompanied by a sharp change in direction, the half-grown gold sprawling inelegantly next to the brown. Hello, she greeted him pleasantly. Yours wants a squirmy thing? Mine is in the Stands. To watch. It’s safe there, Baoth’s said. Oh, she wanted to keep chattering, but courtesy prevented mindless chattering and Jingth finished with a low croon before she glanced hopefully up at the sky behind her. Mmphh, a pity that the sun had set too much to provide any warmth at all…as if it wasn’t warm enough already in the Southern summer.

[Lotty]

"You should go," Raebeli said to her newfound friend as they left the dining hall. She was walking alongside the man, a large and rather regal looking bird perched on her shoulder. The creature almost dwarfed the tiny little mindhealer...well that was a little bit of a hyperbole. Cap'n was quite a large pet, and Rae should be thankful he was hallow-boned and made for flight, otherwise he'd weigh her down. It was bad enough she had to fashion a leather shoulder guard for his sharp talons, she probably had a set of scars from the learning period, from all those times he landed on her shoulder when it was bare and unprotected. He was of course apologetic to inflict little damages to his mommy, but it worked out since she was so forgiving. Who could stay mad at Cap'n anyway? He puffed his feathers up with pride, Cap'n was a pretty pretty avian, with his deep brown feathers and golden crested head not to mention the red plumage that streaked the underside of his wings.

Mi'rah was sort of jealous that the girl has such an impressive pet, but he wouldn't dare say so. He had found Raebeli was an easy friend to make, she was outgoing enough and didn't seem to mind his occasional stutter, but most importantly she was a fellow northerner and new enough herself. She was able to explain to him the various oddities of the place. Although she was from Fort, at very least she was of crafter blood, this allowed him to justify a casual friendship with her, but if she was a Fortian rider...oh well that would be hard. Still his liked her enough that she was able to push him around like this.

"It would do you good to get one of those salamandyrs. Pets can be rather comforting," she proposed to him and she lightly pushed him along towards the hatching sands. He didn't seem to agree right away, "I have a dragon...that...that is comforting?" This was just pish posh. He was being so difficult, "But...southerners have pets. You told me you wanted to blend right in didn't you?" Well that was true, but still...there had to be safer pets than the blabber mouth salamandrys. He remembered G'tor's, it was a rude little thing to him. Essentially, salamandyrs scared him to death, but somehow he was being coaxed into attending this hatching. Unfair.

When they arrived, Mi'rah tried to lay low and hide in the back, but again was pushed towards the front of the crowd by Raebeli, "Now you have something to feed them don't you?" Mi'rah shook his head no, but the girl wouldn't let him use that as an excuse to leave. She put a finger up as an idea popped into her head, "I'll go back to the hall and get some meatrolls. Don't you try and run away, Cap'n is going to keep an eye on you..." and the bird popped off of the mindhealer's shoulder as she turned to leave and flapped his way to land on Mi'rah's head. What Raebeli didn't know was that Cap'n had no intention of watching the bronzerider at all. He had caught sight of the eggs. Yummy, yummy, and from the top of the tall man's head, he had a good view of all the little hatching snacks.

[kysseh]

“Pwetties?! Pyeeeeeeeeeeesss?”

Subdued laughter followed the outburst, the greenrider’s shoulders shaking in barely-contained amusement at her offspring’s insistence on witnessing this great event. Toddlers could be stubbornly fixated on things when they wanted to be, and Aliscia’s own toddlers were no different. Living in a world of darkness, Silas was not interested in colorful things, but his sister’s enthusiasm rarely failed to incite a reaction from him. The two-Turn-old was on his mother’s back, clinging with arms and legs as he chuckled alongside his sister’s excited outbursts. “Pwetties, Mama? Pwetties, pyeeese?” the little boy inquired, snuggling his arms around Aliscia’s neck and nuzzling his face into her short hair. He loved his mama, he did.

“All right, all right. We’ll go see them,” the greenrider laughed, shifting her grip on the squirming girl-child. She regretted having explained the dragon’s announcement to her offspring for that brief moment, for Reiscia had understood enough to declare ‘pwetties!’, and that had been the end of that. When it came to innocent activities like watching a hatching, Aliscia did not possess the capacity to say no to her children. She was spoiling them, true, but as her only family, they had a special place in her heart. It was impossible to deprive them, even so near to their bedtime. “But you have to be quiet. No loud sounds, or we leave,” she warned the little girl as they entered the hatching sands, smiling as she felt Silas lay his little head against the back of her shoulder. He wouldn’t make a sound.

By the time Aliscia had gingerly picked her way to the clutch, remaining on the hot sands a safe distance away to keep from offending the clutchmother, Reiscia was nearly shaking with excitement but managed to control her wriggles, her red curls bouncing with every motion of her head as she watched the salamandyr queen and her clutch with rapt attention. “Pwetteee…” the toddler ‘whispered’ in the not-so-subtle voice that only the very young could get away with, her eyes wide with attention as she stared at the center of attention and its iron guard. So very pretty, indeed. She was riveted, even as her brother just clung to their mother’s neck while the greenrider shifted her weight from foot to foot to minimize the boot-to-sand contact. She wanted a pretty.

---

Do you really think this is what Phremath’s meant by humoring the little creature? Dohulth’s voice echoed in K’von’s skull, no small amount of amusement coloring the brown’s tone. The dragon was far from his rider at the moment, sprawled comfortably on his weyrledge. He had refused to move from his ledge when the call had been put out, leaving His stranded in the Main Hall with a waning appetite for food and a growing one for humoring a hated presence. K’von hated salamandyrs with a burning passion, but on Kalierre’s recommendation to humor her little bronze Lust, the brownrider found it to his benefit to act in a fashion that the salamandyr would find appropriate. Just showing up would qualify as catering to the little creature, right?

Whether it was what Kalierre had in mind or not, K’von was on a mission. Perhaps if he could appease the bronze salamandyr, his weyrmate would be in a better mood. Lust would threaten him less, be less of a pain…. Kalierre would be delighted. Yes, it was a foolproof plan, he reckoned. What else could she have meant? I show up, I hide at the back, everyone else gets a pest, I come back. See? Humoring him. the brownrider replied ever-so-cheerfully, reaching up with his free hand to tickle the green firelizard that lounged on his shoulder. After a hearty dinner, a walk to the Hatching Grounds at sunset was quite refreshing, though he was wheezing a bit by the time he arrived at his destination. His lungs were still not back to normal following the plague, and he occasionally found himself short of breath. After a busy day like that one, he was unsurprised that the coughs refused to stop. His poor abused lungs.

Guess I’m not the first one here… he thought smugly in the brown’s direction, feeding the little green flit another tidbit of meat as he picked his way along the sandy boards toward the obvious gathering. His thick-soled boots would afford him some protection from the sand, but he wanted to save that for when he actually got close to the clutch. Since there were others present, he and his little bowl and his Nia could skulk unseen--a challenge when one was on the taller side, but he would manage--behind all of those gathered, never to be noticed by hatchlings. And Lust could scarcely fault him for trying, so all was well. Foolproof idea. Foolproof.

[glamourie]

Come, come. Come. Come come! Come. Mine. Come. Babies.

K’lir winced. One would think that after turns of dealing with salamandyr hatchings, he’d be used to it – but he wasn’t. So was clear indication of his discomfort as he rolled out of his furs and pulled on a pair of pants (he’d been naked – what of it!). He was in no hurry and it showed as he managed to pull on a shirt and a pair of thick leather boots; he knew where Dael clutched, and he wasn’t in any hurry to walk onto the Sands in improper foot gear. That was always painful. Guh. Showoff bolted out of the weyrling barracks ahead of him and the green weyrlingrider rolled his eyes after his salamandyr before looking to his dragonet; Baoth was getting so large. She was definitely going to be bigger than Calistoth, though ‘average’ for a green. In her own way she seemed more serpentine, more slender, more impressive… he was having a hard time resenting her as the months grew up. The thought sometimes made him bitter; he should have mourned Lis longer and part of him still did. So awkward.

But the eggs in the clutch were in no hurry to wait for K’lir, as indicated by the Jellyfish Egg rocking vividly. It rolled about in the clutch, looking decidedly odd, but the first egg to begin cracking was the Rattlesnake Egg. From the large, jagged mark down the side, a flash of grayish hide was visible, leaving it questionable what color salamandyr remained within. Rock, rock, rock.

Across the hatching sands came a form of glittering bronze with red zigzags, and Showoff flung himself forward onto one of the blades surrounding the eggs with a loud shriek that was defiant. He turned to look at the people nearby and flared his frill at them in agitation. Back! he commanded, his tail curling over the hilt of the blade. What a sight he must have made, his wings flared wide, frill displayed huge and red tints threatening his eyes. His eyes weren’t on the people though. His eyes were on the bird, and he screeched loud enough to make it clear he was unhappy. Even Dael wasn’t noticed. He recognized Darters, he did, and he didn’t trust them. Instinct told him not to. You go now. YOU GO!

How unmannerly. Baoth beat K’lir to the hatching sands because K’lir did not enter the sands at all. The green dragon slinked along the outer skirt of the sands, her body low to the ground making her appear as though she was slithering as opposed to walking. Her eyes were on Showoff and the clutch before she crooned in greeting to Adith. K’lirmylove is going to the stands to talk to Jingth’s. She would have protested strongly if she thought it would get her anywhere but Baoth thought Jingth’s belonged to Checkoth’s or Behruth’s, possibly Dsoleth’s. Hers wasn’t interested in a goldrider anyway. He just wanted to talk about the Kahrelir-hatchling (who was left with Checkoth’s) with a healer that might understand. You might wish to warn Yours that the little worm-cousin is having fits over that avian. Mine would do something but he’s distracted.

Distracted was one way to put it. K’lir was finally dressed and as he made his way into the Stands, he came to sit next to Meira with his hands resting between his knees. He looked half-asleep, which was perhaps understandable considering he’d been awake all of five minutes. “You might want to move further back,” he suggested, glancing over at her. “I wanted to talk to you about Kahrelir, if you’ve got a minute. I also don’t want R’wign knowing that’s what I wanted to talk about. He fusses.” His hand came up to rub his nose; he was totally ignoring the eggs but salamandyr hatchings had long since lost their splendor to him. He had one of the little monsters and he knew Showoff would never share him willingly with anyone.

The two rocking eggs swayed back and forth before they split simultaneously – revealing two very different salamandyrs. The first was a green, grayish in hue and colored bizarrely; she looked as though she had very little in the way of colors, all things considered. Almost… boring. The second was a pale, nearly purple blue who bounced away from his clutchsister and frilled in terror. What in the world was she doing looking at him? She was a girl. Despite himself, he ducked underneath one of the broken fragments of eggs, obviously nervous.

The hatching had begun.

---

The Poisonous Clutch

01. Rattlesnake Egg hatched: green
02. Black Widow Egg
03. Dart Frog Egg
04. Oleander Egg
05. Jellyfish Egg hatched: blue
06. Scorpion Egg
07. Brown Recluse Egg
08. Gila Monster Egg
09. Belladonna Egg
10. Cobra Egg
11. Deathstalker Egg
12. Lionfish Egg

[rii]

Who was that–F'lix was busy peering down at those on the sands to be much interested in those moving into the stands. Much like themselves, they probably wanted nothing to do with the salamandyrs.. and as long as they sat in the rows in front of him, F'lix was content enough to continue ignoring them. The older man down below, being shoved out onto the sands did pulled at his attention. Wasn't that a bronzer from Benden, what was his name–

Movement, too nearby, and F'lix snapped his glare up just in time to see F'ur. Arms reflexively unfolded, enough that his hands turned palm up to cradle the dropped bowl–not in the most graceful manner, as he nearly flung it away from himself. His slight tossel with the bowl ending with him having a piece of meat landed on his sleeve, another in his lap, then a last hit the floor with a wet plop.

While the arrival of F'ur was.. unexpected, he certainly wasn't unwelcomed. At first F'lix expression softened as he gazed up at the other, but.. the bowl of meat. That was very, very unwanted. F'lix returned to his usual glare of indifference. One could almost had said he was glad to see the man. Again, hard to really tell with the younger bluerider, though if he had wanted nothing to do with the other.. he likely would have flung the bowl up into his face and walked off. Quite blunt when he opted to do so.

"No," F'lix face soured with a faint show of disgust and he shoved the bowl up toward F'ur. "I do not want one of these pests. I've never seen a salamandyr hatchling before–give that to someone who actually wants one." He made a vague gestures at those at the sands. Obviously being up in the stands meant he wanted nothing to do with the entire ordeal. F'lix picked the piece of meat off his sleeve and absently flung it away from himself.. it zipped by Meira's head and landed somewhere amidst the sands beyond her. He hadn't meant to throw it at her, didn't even notice, to be honest.. and F'ur had the bowl now, obviously the guilty one.

Ah, apparently the madness was about to begin.. the eggs were shaking and some salamandyr was screaming for them to get back. Ooh, scary.. such tiny things.. barely make them out from their seats.

F'lix shifted his seat to sit up straighter, letting his side press against the leg propped next to him. Not leaning against it, but he didn't make any show of putting distance between them. A side-glance was cast up at the man. "You best get down there if you want one." Teasing, he flashed a brief smile before turning his attention back to the sands. Yes, but he was certain F'ur wanted one just as much as he did, if more.

[Rowana]

"No, no, no, no, NO!" T'ke declared loudly. He glared his dragon. "We are NOT getting a salamandyr." He didn't have to say it out loud, but it felt better to voice it clearly. He was walking back to his weyr. It was late, and he wanted to sleep. Garaeth had decided to go look at the salamandyrs anyway and was currently overhead, spying on the Grounds. But T'ke-mine, he begged. They are such clever creatures. T'ke crossed his arms. "And loud, and annoying, and rude, and we're NOT getting one!" Garaeth sighed, but perked up considerably when he saw a flash of red heading for the sand. You might want to come anyway, he said in amusement. T'ke blinked as Garaeth sent him an image and cursed. Then he was running to the Grounds.

Akyo watched his prey. Foolish worm! He didn't want more of the pesky creatures flying about. And no one would let him eat one! The outrage! They clearly didn't like them and yet he couldn't dispose of the monsters. Akyo ruffled his feathers in annoyance. Well, he'd see that this bunch never got people to worry about. Yes Yes! Then maybe he'd learn what one tasted like. Aha! The first victims were hatched! Akyo took flight. It was getting dark, and he should be sleeping by now, but there were salamandyrs to deal with. The larger darter screeched loudly, flapping above the two hatchlings. Which one? Of course, he hadn't thought the plan through enough to realize that Showoff and Dael probably wouldn't take kindly to this. Ah! The green one! Akyo dove...

"SHARDING RED MONSTER, YOU STOP RIGHT NOW!" Akyo faltered and pulled back up to circle again, twittering angrily. Stupid human slave. He had interrupted! T'ke stumbled onto the edge of the sands, leaning on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Why did the stupid darter have to go after salamandyrs? He wouldn't normally have bothered. Let the silly beast get himself killed by the parents. But then Garaeth would have been heart broken. And he could have that. Now however, he realized he had announced himself quite grandly. He blinked at the other people gathered. "Um..." he mumbled, clearly embarrassed and humiliated. "I...um...sorry." Above him, Garaeth found a place in the stands to watch. Hello! he greeted the other dragons present brightly. Such a lovely night for a hatching.

[glamourie]

((‘lo. I’m posting early because I’m going to be gone ‘til like six-thirty/sevenish this evening and I want to give people something to reply to while I’m gone. In the future I’ll wait three posts. Sorry for inconvenience to those catching up. :3))

The pale blue salamandyr steadily squirmed, nestling his tiny body into the sands. Being a draconid species, the hot environment did not really put him off, but the sight of his green clutchsister staring at him like he’d spouted a second, somewhat unpleasant head, did. He climbed underneath the fragments of his shattered shell, the Jellyfish Blue melding interestingly with the appearance, and he squeaked. Yes, squeaked. There was no other word for the sound and it was one of utter embarrassment. Normally salamandyrs talked but this one looked as though he was petrified. So many people. So many things looking at him. He’d just hide here under the egg for awhile if that was okay – he didn’t – he didn’t – he did not want all this attention. Didn’t they understand that? Much better to pay attention to her – she was prettier –

Unfortunately, the Rattlesnake Green mistook what was probably meant as a gesture of consideration for an insult. Her frill flared and she screeched in offense at the blue, leaping at him to jump around the egg shells. Comically, she didn’t scratch or bite – no part of her intended real violence, just to scare. She leapt around a few more times before…

The Jellyfish Blue actually fainted. Yes, truly fainted. Alarmed, the Rattlesnake Green ceased her incessant bouncing and reached one claw out to poke him in the side, clearly nervous: what was he doing? Why was he just laying there? Didn’t he know that laying there was bad? SHE’D KILLED HIM! Oh nooo! Frilling widely and panicking, the Rattlesnake Green looked up at Dael and squeaked an apology before flinging herself on top of the Scorpion Egg, one of the larger ones in the clutch. She threw her head back and creeled loudly before announcing to everyone in the hatching caverns dome, NotmeannotmeannotmeanLOVEYOU! She hadn’t meant it, she hadn’t! She wasn’t a killer. Oh no, oh no, oh no. They’d hate her soon, they would all hate her soon. The green squawked again, and then flung herself downward, her little claws scraping the Scorpion Egg and sending a network of spiraling cracks down it.

She had to get away! Frantically, the Rattlesnake Green scurried across the hot sands, looking for Hers amidst the crowd. She didn’t want to go far – what if something got her for her evil misdeed? – and thus only those who were on the sands were considered. Her gaze fell on a suitable person for her and she scurried straight up T’san’s leg, over his clothes, before creeling. NotmeanNOTMEAN! Would he still love her despite her misdeed? Oh, she hoped so; she hadn’t meant to kill her blue brother, just frighten him a bit for acting like she was so ugly and unappealing. Really! She hadn’t meant it at all…

The egg she left behind, the Scorpion Egg, continued to rock in the Sands. Thin cracks covered the entire base of the shell, and a small, distinctly bronze nose broke a hole in the top. A loud squawk of indignant annoyance was audible before the egg toppled over onto one side… and still did not shatter. Obviously, the bronze within was having a great deal of trouble escaping his prison.
But the Oleander Egg was having no such problems. Thousands of small cracks spread over it at once before it shattered to reveal a decidedly awkward looking green who crooned low in her throat before looking around. Hmm, hmm, hmm. Who to pick… and why was there an unconscious blue next to her?

All of her deep pondering was cut very short as the Scorpion Egg gave a decided shudder and spilled forth an average-sized bronze across the sands, his squawking unmistakable. His frill flared wide and he looked up before snapping testily at the Oleander Green. The unspoken command was clear (though he was too lazy to stand): Move your butt!

---

01. Rattlesnake Egg Impressed: Green ? to T'san
02. Black Widow Egg
03. Dart Frog Egg
04. Oleander Egg hatched: green; pensive
05. Jellyfish Egg hatched: blue; fainted
06. Scorpion Egg hatched: bronze; hissing at Oleander Green
07. Brown Recluse Egg
08. Gila Monster Egg
09. Belladonna Egg
10. Cobra Egg
11. Deathstalker Egg
12. Lionfish Egg

[glamourie]

Rattlesnake Green

Name:
Age: Hatchling
Color: Green #486A3F
Gender: Female
Based Off Of: Ciara
Looks To: T'san

Physical Description: This green is abnormally large for her color, though one wouldn’t know it from looking at her - not immediately, at least. This is because she’s actually very thin, her body sinuous and serpentine even at a glance. From the end of her nose to the tip of her tail, she’s practically the size of a small blue, and she will truly dwarf many other greens. But it’s all length that makes her impressive; she has no bulk to speak of and her body is skinny enough that she can twirl herself easily around anything, and into the smallest of cracks. Similarly, when she wants to, she can allow herself to be mistaken for an odd vine or leaf, just because of her shape. Her wings are small even for a salamandyr’s and flight is absolutely out of the question; there’s no point in her even trying. By contrast, her frill is also on the smaller side, but not disproportionate; rather, it appears to be more of an elegant accessory, like a bib rather than a threatening tool, and it’s complimented well by her tail. All salamandyrs have long tails but this one’s is even unusual for her species, long and thin enough to twist around many things all at once, and she’s very fond of jolting it about. The end result is her looking like a vine with beady eyes that stand out in her face, and almost seem to peer right through anyone she stares at. She can certainly be intimidating to behold when she’s angry.

Peculiarly enough, this green seems to have a grayish hue to her body, backwashed with distinct green highlights that leave no doubt to what color she is but can appear strange. Her markings are even more awkward. Rather than typical spots down her back as most salamandyrs have, hers almost appear to be diamond splotches in a vivid dark green, starting from the base of her neck and spreading the entire line of her back to the tip of her tail. Directly at the center of each spot is a lime green hue that can be quite peculiar to look at as well, but the entire result is a perfect camouflage in fallen leaves that makes her impossible to spot. Her frill is brilliantly patterned with dozens of hypnotic diamonds like the ones on her back, which can result in quite a few headaches for those unfortunate enough to run into her displaying. Which… will, fortunately, not be that often. Fate does have some sense of mercy.

Personality: It would be quite easy to label this green insane. In fact, it would be completely accurate to label this green insane. Her ginormous eyes are always open freakishly wide, usually in flat yellow hue betraying how one-track she is. No matter what's going on, this green is going to be nervous about something. Like a tiny canine who barks at leaves blowing past in the wind, this salamandyr is incredibly vocal with her neuroses. If anything irritates or startles her, she will wail, frill pressed tightly to her neck, eyes staring accusingly, reared up with her body coiled in sinuous serpentines. Her irritation is quite easy to gauge based on the loudness of her shrieking. On the other hand, if you manage to anger her to the point where she is full of (to her) righteous wrath, she will fix you with a piercing, unwavering yellow stare, and watch you accusingly every time you enter the room, no matter where she happens to be at the time. And this salamandyr has a very, very long memory... though not for words. Her memory for language is slight, and she is quite likely to pick up only one or two words (beyond her signature “HATE”) which she herself uses. It's far more likely for her to communicate vocally and physically—with hisses, glares, angry chatters, and occasional whimpers, all while lashing her tail madly to gain your attention.

Interestingly, this green is excruciatingly loyal. She will adore only her human, who she may very well limpet to and become quite a nuisance for. Her level of emotion bonding is particularly deep, to the point where it may be almost impossible to sort out emotions belonging to salamandyr and human, save for a distinctive ire attached to many of her thoughts. Extremely clingy of her “mate” to the point of being obnoxious, this green is quite likely take over her bonded's emotions as far as her mate's bonded is concerned. She'll pick her favorite far before she ever Runs—and her preferences will show up within moments of Hatching! No matter who she ends up actually mating with (and this can be any number of salamandyrs, though she abhors flitters), her loyalty lies with her Chosen One forever. The only reason he'd lose her Run would be, well, that he's not actually in it... and beware her ire then!!

[Lotty]

Oh shards. Why did Raebeli's bird have to have to be using him as a perch? The bronze worm thing was yelling at him now, and he frankly didn't know what to do. He didn't like being yelled at. He had spent a good part of his dragonriding life being yelled at. Shards, part of the reason he left Benden because he was sick of being yelled at. Who did that little worm think he was? Mi'rah crossed her arms across his chest, very visibly pissed that not only he had a very large avian on his head and probably pulling out his hair, but this little thing was yelling at him. Still being the quiet type he was, he didn't say anything at all...just pouted and with some degree of worry, glanced back to the entrance of the hall in hopes that Raebeli would be back to collect Cap'n...from there he could lie his way out of the situation.

Cap'n suddenly wasn't in such a cheery mood either. Though he was calm and collected and even mockingly bobbed his head and flapped his wings at Showoff's demands, he did not like this other darter coming into steal his prey. Not at all. He got here first, and then this stupid little red thing came in to cause chaos! Didn't it know anything about finesse? Then the little red bird missed at that! Well, Cap'n wouldn't forget this, he'd get the other darter back for ruining his meal. He gave Akyo another look. Hmmm firelizard-sized. Much, much more filling than those little salamandyrs. He lept off of Mi'rah's head and took flight; the bronze rider flinching and immediately bringing his hands up to his head and taking a sort of silent inventory of his brownish hair.

The big eaglesque creature made sure to fly along the dark corners of the hatching sands. Showoff had no reason to worry about his clutch much longer. Quietly Cap'n began hunting, spiraling around and around the spectators. Being high up made no difference, he could see everything down below with crisp precision.

Mi'rah didn't seem too worried that the bird had flown away, if anything he was relieved. See, the bird wasn't his. He had no control over it honestly! Now he was free to sneak glances at these little hatching things, the rider hoped this wasn't a sign of old age, but he felt like he had to squint to see them, the tiny little things they were. Peculiar too. He could have sworn that....did the little blue one just faint? He felt so bad for it. Yes believe it or not a Bendenite felt pity for the defenseless, and it was one of those rude salamandyrs he didn't like at that. Something was wired a little wrong in Mi'rah's brain. That must be it.

[Avu]

While the eggs seemed to be preparing to Hatch, more people were trickling in, and Meira could honestly say (though not out loud, certainly, in case of offense) that she was quite surprised at the number. There were more eggs than people, still, but after what havoc the little creatures had wreaked over the Turns that they’d existed, it was understandable, was it not? Glancing around awkwardly, the weyrlingrider twisted a strand of her hair around one finger, scarcely recognizing that she did it. It wasn’t the actual Hatching she was uncomfortable with, but with being apart from all of the other people; it made her feel like she was doing something wrong. Part of her knew very well she wasn’t, given that a few others were in the Stands as well, but –

They were throwing meat pieces. Or at least, a meat piece, which came far too close for her comfort, landing…somewhere; she didn’t bother to keep track, turning instinctively to look up at the pair, but no more meat was being thrown. Meira hesitated, and then turned back to the Sands uncertainly. Had they – they hadn’t meant to throw it at her, had they? She couldn’t think why they would throw meat at all, though – or why they had it in the Stands. Part of her was tempted to scoot sideways, even though Meira knew very well it would do her no good if they started pitching meat around again. Jingth was preoccupied with a certain brown, but there still came a wave of confusion from the gold, a feeling that Meira responded automatically to with reassurance; nothing was wrong – not really, though she half-wished she could have brought Riaren just to distract herself from the actual Hatching, which she could only half-see given the distance and the people crowded around it.

Oh, K’lir. Meira shifted sideways to allow the greenrider more room, half-smiling in greeting, but his words made her blink. “I thought you’d want to be closer, but if you’re okay with moving back…” Then she’d like to very much; maybe she wouldn’t be spotted by either Hatching Salamandyrs or by the ‘Candidates’ for them. Her gaze flickered down to the Sands, attracted by Showoff’s shrieking, and snagged for a second on the two darters there. Darters at a Salamandyr Hatching? One hand rose to tuck her hair behind one ear at the yelling of a young man below, before she added belatedly, “Um – okay. I won’t tell him, then…” She wasn’t quite sure whether or not she’d been planning to tell him anyway; she knew the brownrider ‘fussed’: See his reaction to almost anything Riaren had done, before he’d gotten used to the baby.

A question rose to her mind, a question that she didn’t ask because she was actually afraid of the answer: Is it always this chaotic? Darters swooping, Salamandyrs shrieking, people shrieking (and throwing things?)…was this really…normal for a Hatching? She couldn’t remember any of Zesa’s being quite – quite so busy. Meira flicked a glance uncertainly at the greenrider before looking back at the eggs again, which, given that they’d started Hatching, provided ample distraction, even though she really couldn’t…see anything from here. People, mostly, shiny things, and little streaks of color that she supposed were the Salamandyrs. One of which…seemed to have gone to T’san, but she couldn’t really be sure. Congratulations to him…?