Hatching of the Tropical Clutch

[Tashe]

Night had fallen on Pern and the silence that came with it settled around the Weyr, nobody stirred, not even a Queen or her rider. The heat of the sands had lulled the Junior Weyrwoman to sleep, but it was not in her bedroll that she lay in, she had fallen asleep leaning against her Dragon. Another nightmare had plagued her dreams, and unfortunately it wasn't one of the least upsetting ones either. Jerking awake and spilling the feline that had taken up residence on her middle into her lap, Kaegan shivered despite the tremendous heat of the room. Lifting the placid white cat into her arms, the young Goldrider cooed to him, trying to dispel the horrors of her dream. "Scara... I wish these dreams would go away. I'm certain even a mindhealer can't do anything about them." Pulling the Feline close to her, Kaegan began to pet his smooth hair, and only when she looked at his eyes did she suddenly becoming aware of a disturbance in the air. Twisting around slightly to look at Millieth, the Queenrider was surprised to find the Dragon already uncurled and staring into the dim light. A deep thrumming picked up in resonance, building as the minutes wore on, and confirming the thought that fluttered around Kaegan's head.

Turning her gaze onto the sands, the Junior Weyrwoman let her vision sweep along the twelve eggs before her eyes picked up a slight movement. Rubbing her face and trying to wake her brain up, Kaegan looked back to the eggs just to see if what she saw had really happened. Sure enough, the small Beachsand egg rocked like a ticking metronome, and not long after the Sea egg began to stir from its deep slumber... the time for hatching was now. Nothing was going to stop the eggs, not even time of day, and the middle of the night was no exception. Jumping to her feet, Kaegan gently deposited the male onto the ground before sliding over to her bedroll near the back of the Queen's couch. It took the Werywoman one minute to change clothing, making herself decent well before anyone began arriving. Hopping on one leg as she strapped on her black laced sandal, Kaegan smoothed out her dress before picking Scara up once more. "Oh Dear. Oh Dear... Scara this is it." Cradling the unafraid presence in her arms, the Goldrider heard dragons begin to thrum and roar around the Weyr as they picked up her Queen's call. It wouldn't be long now... and their hatching would begin.

---

Beachsand Egg- Hatched Brown Russeth to Q'in
Valley Egg- Hatched Green Sendreth to Devai
Mango Egg- Hatched Bronze Sitieth to S'adi
Tribal Egg- Hatched Bronze Jedirth to T'nmor
Palmtree Egg- Hatched Green Storith to Janisi
Shipwreck Egg- Hatched Green Linoth to Sikowy
Sea Egg- Hatched Blue Benath to A'viar
Lagoon Egg- Hatched Blue Gartoth to T'ra
Compass Egg- Hatched Green Raiyth to Fiona
North Star Egg- Hatched Brown Elleoth to N'tian
Sexton Egg- Hatched Blue Fortith to L'ron
Tropical Egg- Hatched Blue Zorith to D'niel

[Requiem]

In the middle of the night. Mutasim had woken immediately, drenched in a cold sweat and sitting up so fast he nearly hit his head on the top bunk, the dagger in his hand. He'd never thought he would be thankful for being so obscenely short. What do you know. Apparently miracles can happen after all. His eyes darted. A second later, he recognized the roars and humming for what they were, glancing to Jabari, who was standing upright, his eyes whirling as he added to the strange, yet familiar sound. The candidate drew his hand over his face, starting slightly at the feel of the cold steel. He should probably put the blade away before he slashed himself. Yes. That would be a good idea. Bad timing for a Hatching.

Ignoring the sounds of candidates hurrying throughout the barracks, the young man simply rested his elbows on his knees, genuinely trying to find just one compelling reason to put on that sharding white tunic for a third time and stumble onto the hatching sands. He was coming up with a blank. Would any dragon want a murdering thief as their bonded? No. Simply no. They wouldn't want anyone used as he'd been, either. Mutasim wasn't a fool. Nor did he want something sharing his mind, sharing his memories. He'd put a lot of work into forgetting most of those memories, after all, or at least pushing them back until they were rarely thought of. A dragon would expose everything. He couldn't handle it. Not now. Not ever. He didn't want any of the pitying looks after standing again, and he wanted the unfathomable chance of actually Impressing something even less.

Besides, he should be sleeping.

With a grunt that might have held just the smallest hint of self-loathing, Mutasim let himself fall back onto the cot, staring up at the slats above him. Yes. Sleep. He could say that he'd been exhausted and hadn't wakened when they asked, if they asked. They probably wouldn't believe him. People were strange, though. If it was easier to swallow a lie than the truth, most people would, even if they knew that it was a lie. Muta closed his eyes.

[irbre]

Tenmor stirred slightly, his dreams of roads and herdbeasts. That seemed to be a common trend in his dreams, always revolving around a seemingly unending quest after a stray wherry or other beast. This time it was interrupted by a deep thrumming, one that Tenmor recognized almost immediately. The Hatching. Tenmor sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes and rubbing a knuckle blearily across them. The deepening noise rumbled in his chest and he could almost feel some random organ vibrating to the thrum. Yes, it was the Hatching, there was no doubt about it.

Tenmor rolled out of his furs, hastily pulling on the white, unadorned garb of all Candidates. He had worn this a few times and he was immaculate, an almost shining white. He straightened the white fabric carefully. He had made sure to keep his unwrinkled, wanting to look his best if he Impressed. Or, more accurately, failed to Impress, as he had done those times before. Once he was positive that he looked as bland and unassuming as possible, he straightened, moving towards the Hatchings as quickly as possible. Yes, he would Impress today. Maybe thinking made all the difference? He huffed slightly to himself, attempting to keep his face blank and free of worry. That was until he saw a very recognizable figure lounging while he should be getting ready.

Tenmor paused. Although it wasn't his place, he couldn't help but be driven at least give Mutasim some type of warning. The quiet Candidate might kill him, but Tenmor hurriedly placed such thoughts aside. This wasn't the day to be thinking of such things. He took a quick breath to steady himself and stepped into Mutasim's barracks, his face as placid as possible. "Shouldn't you be at the Hatching, Mutasim?" It was a quiet, soft question, one Tenmor was asking more the sake of the dragons' than his own or Mutasim's. What if one of those dragons was to be Mutasim's? He couldn't just allow that to happen, and so he stood there, attempting to keep as calm as possible even as his stomach roiled with the prospect of Impressing himself.

--------------------------

The first thrum was enough to awaken Quien, he promptly rolled over and banged his head quiet solidly into the wall. Eyes watering and cursing, the short Candidate, rolled in the correct direction, squinting around. The Hatching, now? At night? Why did it have to be at night?! Giving a partly exasperated and partly nervous sigh, he hastily reached for his robes. They were the same as everyone else's, if not a bit more crumpled and wrinkling from where they had lain. He struggled with them for a moment, somehow managing to wrap the sleeve around his neck and very nearly choke himself. With a soft chirping, Kalaena disentangled herself from his furs, crawling over towards Hers. Grinning, Quein reached down and picked up the small creature.

"Well, it's Hatching time, little on," he said brightly, taking off at a swift walk. Normally he would have run the whole way there, but with Kalaena on his shoulder he didn't dare to. The little green hunched down, digging her delicate claws into his shoulder, though not hard enough to cause damage to his skin. She had joined in the humming in her own manner, definitely not as deep and stirring, but helpful nonetheless. "Don't worry, dear. We'll be there soon," Quien murmured to his sister's namesake. Kalaena gave a loud chirrup and hunched lower as Quien broken into a slight jog.

He was the first to arrive, for once, Quien noticed with relief. He moved closer quickly, blue eyes fixed on the eggs as they trembled and quaked. Well, as of yet, only a few had moved, the Sea and Beachsand Eggs. He moved as close as he dared, eyes wide and unblinking. He had been left Standing more than once. Hopefully that would all change this time. Kalaena left her perch for a moment, circling above his head like a little green flag before she settled back down. Quien dared a glance up at the Queen and her rider, then stared back down. Yes, it was time.

[adair]

Grimacing to himself at all the annoying humming, Saidi was not in the mood to go out onto those hot sands and play make nice for all the sharding idiots he knew would be there. Unfortunatly he had a role to play and a face to keep, so he knew there was no way he could skip this Hatching or even appear as anything other than content with life.

Instead of rushing around like a wherry with its head chopped off like many of the other candidates were sure to be doing, Saidi took the time to brush out his hair, though that just made it look even shaggier than usual, and put on the white candidates robes all in his own sweet time. Only once he was fully clothed and brushed did he finally walk out of his room, head held high and shoulders back as he took the short trip to the Hatching Sands, his eyes and face calm as usual, almost to the point of being blank perhaps as he walked to the rest of the candidates, his mind whispering about each one and what fun he could have with them as he awaited the little creatures on the Sands to Hatch. At least that was a bit more fun than just sitting here, bored...
____________________________________________________

Devai was her usual bouncing blond self, her normal pigtails exchanged for a tamer tight braid on the back of her head, making her face and eyes look even larger than normal, wisps of bangs falling into her eyes even as she scanned all around her. The young weyrbrat-turned-candidate was excited as could be for her first time at attempting to Impress, her exciteability made even worse by the fact that today might be the day that she actually fulfilled her dream. But then again, if it did not happen she knew she could always try again another time. After all, her own father had not Impressed till his fifth standing, so she knew it could take some time.

But that didn't stop her from nearly flying into the white candidate's robes she had had spread out for days now and rushing down the halls, the humming of the dragons echoing in her ears even as she hurried as fast as she could until she nearly skidded onto the sands. Her rather ungraceful entrance caused her to blush, but wasn't nearly enough to stop her from near skipping to where a few other female candidates stood, her eyes sparkling with good humor as they fixed on the eggs, seeing two already beginning their rocking and adding her own bouncing into the mix... Yes... Today might be the day... And Devai was ready!

[mangotango]

Though the humming disturbed his sleep, it was the sounds of the other boys hurrying to get ready and get down there that woke Alviar. Sleeping through his first Hatching would have been both ridiculous and devastating. Still blinking the sleep from his eyes, the boy scrambled out of bed and went through his clothes in fumble-fingered impatience. It seemed like he'd only just lay down, and here it was morning already!

He fairly certain he looked stupid. No matter how often he called them Candidates Robes, he still saw an ill-fitting dress. No time to think of that, though. He had to hurry, or it would all be over before he got there! The sandals slowed him some- if he hadn't been trying to rush he'd probably have gotten ready a lot faster. But still, eventually, he'd gotten himself sorted out. It wasn't easy.

It wasn't until he'd made his way onto the Sands (he'd actually remembered the way from the Touching... If the occasion had been less intense, he might have cheered) that he'd realized he'd been mistaken. The reason why it felt like he'd gone to sleep only a couple hours before was because he had- it was still night. Alviar was somewhat surprised. Well, the dragons had no way to know when the sun was out, did they? They were in eggs! Still, he'd never considered a Hatching at night before. It was far too hot, even though it was night. He could only imagine what a Hatching at high noon would feel like.

Alviar turned and made his way to stand next to Quien. Not right next to, but close. They were all supposed to stand in the same general area as far as he knew. He looked at the rocking eggs in awe. Some inner voice told him not to get too worked up- most people were Standing their second or third times, so Impressing on your first must be very odd. He didn't think there was such a great surplus of Candidates that some of them had never had a good chance at a dragon. He would stand here, and he would be happy for those that Impressed. Well, that part should be easy. He'd never heard Impression described as anything but beautiful.

[Requiem]

Too many bodies moving, too many rustlings all at once, for the young man to fall back into sleep easily. None had noticed him. It both relieved and mildly perturbed Muta. He didn't expect to be the center of attention all the time. That was silly. He didn't want that. But the growing loneliness that had been eating at him took a nasty turn. No one stayed. Any candidate he managed to gain a minor rapport with always Impressed, leaving him to a whole new batch of suspicious, overly happy people. Uu'n. Z'hin. Narna hadn't Impressed, but she hadn't been able to handle her brother's death. He had no idea where she was now. Gina. He'd just found out that Lennae, one of the other weyrlings he knew, had been foolish and gone with the High Reaches riders. She'd talked about changing the north, once, by the river. Mutasim hadn't been feeling much like leaving this room since then. Cold tunnelsnake that he was, no one seemed to notice or care.

Thus it surprised him when the voice penetrated his well of self-pity. Mutasim openly growled, though not at Tenmor - not that the boy would know the difference. He wasn't the sort to wallow! No, he wasn't happy and joyful and hopeful - ever - but what was this worrying about being forgotten? Why should he care? Besides, he did have Uu'n and Z'hin and Gina...and Tenmor. The thought hit him like a boulder between the eyes. Those same eyes turned to the boy, narrowing, a sudden anger coming over Mutasim as he slid from the cot and stalked toward the peg on which that blindingly white eyesore hung. How many more times would he wear that thing before he put in the formal request to be transferred from the candidate barracks? At least once more. Snorting at the thought, he threw the thing over his head violently, striding out into the hall. The glare speared through Tenmor.

Shard this boy. He didn't need another one who would cause him to hurt, another creature that he had to admit he cared a little bit about. That...that wasn't good. Mutasim couldn't quite keep his gaze from softening, though. "Come on. You've a dragon to Impress," he uttered quietly, as Tenmor still seemed glued in place. There was a quiet sadness to the words, but they were surprisingly gentle. Of course Tenmor would Impress. If Tenmor could bring himself to care, even a little bit, about someone like the strange Bitran boy, a dragon would take him in a heartbeat.

Or maybe it was sheer pessimism. No candidate that he came to like, even a little bit, stayed.

[irbre]

Tenmor watched Mutasim intently, his face impassive save for the slight crinkles of worry at the corner of his mouth. Although Mutasim wasn't different, Tenmor hadn't taken him to be one to give up. He had always thought that Mutasim was strong, in his own unique manner. He certainly wasn't the one to wallow in self-pity. Maybe the shorter Candidate was merely waiting for a dramatic entrance or something. Still, it wouldn't do to have him here alone while the others hurried and left for the Hatching. This was a time for movement, not merely sitting still. He was sufficiently surprised when Mutasim rolled over and shot Tenmor a look that caused him to shiver slightly, even though he managed to suppress the movement.

He shifted slightly where he stood as Mutasim stalked over towards his white robe. Something like sadness flitted through Tenmor's eyes. He wasn't the only one to not Impress. There were others, of course, like Tenmor himself. There was loathing on Mutasim's face as he glared at the robe and Tenmor suddenly found himself wishing desperately for Mutasim to Impress. If he did, would a dragon change him? Tenmor certainly hoped so. Maybe the other would become kinder, more compassionate, and not so defiant. His musings were interrupted as Mutasim shot him a glare so sharp that Tenmor was surprised it didn't cut him.

To his surprise, the glare seemed to soften, if only slightly, just before Mutasim spoke. Tenmor opened his mouth, at a complete loss to say, just as Mutasim spoke words that had a strange amount of kindness and sadness in them. The words compelled Tenmor to speak and he fell into silent step next to Mutasim, gaze fixed on the floor. He glanced sideways at Mutasim. Was this..compassion he felt for the Bitran? He looked pointedly away, then decided it was time to speak, to offer assurances. "Yes. I suspect you dragon is waiting there as well," he added softly, so softly that he almost didn't hear it himself. Although his voice was quiet, there was no denying that Tenmor supported those words himself. He could not go without thinking that Mutasim would Impress. Everyone had to Impress some time, after all. And Mutasim had been here for quite awhile, so it was only a matter time. And hopefully now was that time.

[randi]

Laron dreamed in a swirl of colors, a single egg glimmering with a rainbow playing across the shell, fading from one color to another, a kaleidoscope of patterns ever changing to the point of where he felt motion sick from watching it. As his eyes opened, he heard the hum, and, rolling over in his bed, did not realize what it meant.

Only when the ruckus rose of candidates scrambling did his eyes open again. The Hatching was starting, this late? He supposed that one did not question the methods of dragons, and, with a grumbling attitude, pushed his furs off.

Laron put on his robe without much excitement, thinking quietly about the immediate future. However, none of his planning got beyond the night. He was not going to doubt himself, not now. Retying his hair, he set off after the others.

When he walked onto the Sands, his eyes immediatly set upon the giant dragon before him again. The sight of Millieth was still inspiring. Tired, but feeling a need to show his respect, he gave a short bow, almost feeling himself fall. Shardit, it was too late... or was it too early?

Finding his way to his usual spot, Laron let his feet wiggle into the sand, eyes calmly observing the two rocking eggs. None had Hatched, which made him calmer. He didn't want to miss any chance. He would prove himself better than the rest of these idiots, particularly the bright, upbeat candidates. Finding himself thinking of them, he hissed inaudibly through his teeth. Did they not understand what they were getting into? Why destroy that foolish world of theirs? He felt pity for them. With the current situation, certain fellows were likely to be receiving a large wake up call. He felt no need to protect them from that fall. So far as Laron was concerned, he had suffered alone, everyone else could do the same.

Moving his mind back to the clutch, he watched the eggs with carefulness, scanning for even the slightest crack. The other candidates were of no consequences. So far as he cared, there was only him, the eggs, and the hum that seemed to course through his blood, filled his ears, and vanquished all other sounds. Had anyone neared the solitary candidate, and spoken, it was likely that he would not hear so much as a syllable.

He was rather fond of the hum.

[Administrator]

Aslath hovered above the Hatching Ground looking in for a moment before seeking out Salenth. She would find him, and then they would watch the Hatching together. She had missed him terribly, but Hers was being stupid and not letting herself come back yet. Shmee kept insisting on S'rei's apology before she returned, but Aslath had to put her foot down on this one. This was a Hatching. She needed to come see this. Trumpeting triumphantly at her return (even though Shmee was sourly remaining on her little beach), she immediately sent out a call. Salenth, where are you?[/color] she broadcasted. She wanted to find him and cuddle him for as long as she could before returning. Shards, she wanted Shmee to just come back. She missed being at Salenth's side every night. It was nice to relax and not have a care in the world on the coast, of course, but when there was no warm body to curl with at night that could actually keep you warm? No, Aslath missed the life of Selenitas.

Coming to land on the rim of the Hatching Ground, she peered down in at the eggs. Some were shaking, and she let out an unrestrained hum in honor of them. It was odd, seeing a Hatching from this vantage point. For as long as she could remember, she had always been the one guarding the clutch, but now that duty was in Millieth's claws. She crooned a greeting to any of the younglings that would emerge. Once again, however, she looked for Salenth. Come join me, Salenth,[/color] she pleaded, wanting to take in his spicy scent once again. She missed him terribly. Shmee is still hiding away, but I must be here for the Hatching. She misses S'rei a lot, but she will not admit it,[/color] she added with a snort.

That was true. Sometimes, when Shmee was in her darkest moods, she'd start crying over him, telling Aslath about how she wanted him to just admit that he wanted her back. She was starting to get noticeably pregnant, too, which amused Aslath greatly. Shmee hadn't been this big yet, and if she wasn't even done clutching... She rumbled happily. She can feel the clutch moving in her, you know,[/color] she added. You should tell S'rei. It might bring him peace of mind that their clutch is healthy.[/color] It definitely did for Hers. She paused, then went on. I think S'rei should just suck it up and apologize. Does he miss her as much?[/color] Sounding purposely mournful at the last sentence, she flicked her tail. Perhaps guilting the bronze and the man would work.[/size]

[Requiem]

Even though he'd told Tenmor to come, Mutasim didn't quite expect the boy to fall in beside him. Why did he always feel so much older than these other candidates? Weird, random question. It vanished almost as swiftly as it came. Glancing at Tenmor with the strangely discerning eyes, he found the lad had taken to studying his feet. Strange one. Heh. What right had he to call anyone else strange? They'd come to the pier by the time the other candidate spoke, causing Mutasim to pause as he stepped into the boat that would ferry them to the Hatching. A flicker of panic passed behind his eyes, before he nodded mutely. Just the thought of another mind rifling through his memories and drawing them up, one after another...fifteen turns worth of one bad memory after another. He bit his lip. Eh, Tenmor was simply being what most people tried to be. Return a compliment with a compliment, or whatever. Mutasim had never seen the logic in the practice, but the assumption made him feel better, so he clung to it.

Across the water in silence. Up to the Hatching Grounds itself. This was becoming too familiar a practice. "By Faranth's grace," Mutasim uttered, nearly under his breath, and took his first steps onto the sands. He was somewhat dismayed to find that not a single egg had hatched yet. Tenmor would likely have no idea that he'd just silently willed the dragons not to come to him. They'd said that no rider ever regretted it. Mutasim couldn't fathom ever welcoming such a thing. The Searchrider who'd picked him up in Bitra must have been getting high off fellis.

***

Too much to do, too much to do. He'd just dozed off - and really shouldn't have, in all honesty - when Salenth's excitement pressed in on him and drew him awake. Rumpled, obviously losing weight and with all the marks of sleeplessness etched firmly into his face, the Weyrleader pushed back the chair and waited for the room to stop tilting. The Hatching, Mine. And Aslath is here! Pausing at the sudden swell of excitement, hope and anticipation from His, Salenth realized his mistake. No...Just Aslath. Shmee is still at the beach. S'rei cursed colorfully, putting most of his hostility into the slamming of the chair back into the desk.

"You look terrible, brother."

Glancing over at his sister, the Weyrleader growled, "Thanks a lot. You're so helpful. Why don't you go gift someone else with that tongue of yours?"

Lauranna ignored him. "I delivered that new package. I don't think it's clicked yet, that you've been sending things with the food and clothing."

Mine! Coming, coming! Why don't you just go if you're in such a hurry? I believe I'll do just that. Your clutch is moving inside Aslath's, by the way. S'rei felt some relief well up. At least her childishness didn't seem to be effecting their babe. He'd give most anything to just have her back with him. S'rei wasn't going out to the beach, though. She should come back herself. Letting her constantly play him like this was only going to weaken the weyr. Laurie and S'rei arrived at the hatching grounds together, the older woman refraining to comment on her brother's dishevelled appearance any longer. She waved to F'rah as they made their up to the viewing box. Kaegan should be up here already. Bouncing lightly on her toes, she tried to locate the goldrider amidst the growing streams of people, but couldn't seem to do so.

Salenth settled near Aslath, twining his tail with hers. He hadn't imagined he would have missed her so much! Their humans were definitely little fools. Of course he does. He's just nearly as obstinate as Yours. I suppose Yours hasn't found what he left her yet? Crooning softly, he nuzzled the gold's neck, turning half of his attention to the rocking eggs.

[midnight]

Sikowy was fast asleep and deep in a nightmare. She was relieved when something woke her, and glad that she couldn't remember the dream just a few minutes later. Now, what had woken her? It took her tired, muddled mind a few moments to put the pieces together, and then she let out a gasp of surprise. The Hatching!

Fairly leaping out of her cot, she hastily pulled on her white robe. She wasn't sure why the eggs had decided to hatch so late at night, but that didn't matter. With any luck, that wouldn't be the only thing to make this Hatching memorable. She ran a hand through her hair, checked herself in the mirror, and then hurried outside, running to the sands.

She slowed her pace as she stepped onto the burning sand, pausing to catch her breath by the entrance. Forcing herself to appear calm, she strode up to the clutch and joined the other candidates, going to stand beside Devai. She gave the other girl a nervous little smile before turning her attention to the clutch. The Beachsand and Sea eggs were rocking already. She had touched the Beachsand egg, and she was excited to see what color dragon would hatch out of it.

For no reason, she glanced up at the stands. She knew that there would be no one watching her today. Her parents probably didn't know where she was, it would be out of the question for W'sen to venture down here, and it would probably be too difficult for Tenol to watch a Hatching and relive his own Impression. She sighed and looked back at the eggs. Maybe she would have someone new to care for her at the end of the Hatching.

------------------

Natian groaned and pulled a pillow over his head as humming infiltrated his sleep, slowing bringing him back to the world of the leaving. "Please mother...just a few more minutes..." he mumbled, trying to ignore the noise.

He could not ignore the fact that all the candidates around him were moving about, however. He threw the pillow off, allowing himself to hear the Hum to its full extent, and the fact of the Hatching sunk in. "Oh!" he exclaimed, quickly getting out of bed and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

A few minutes later, clad in his white robe, he was striding towards the Hatching Sands. He was really looking forward to this, even if he didn't Impress. He had never seen a Hatching before, and it was supposed to be really something. Even that wasn't always true here, though, he mused. He had heard that there had been something wrong with eggs in another clutch. He sincerely hoped that nothing would be amiss in this Hatching. He didn't know when there would be another chance at Impression, and then leaving his Craft would have been in vain.

He went to stand with the other candidates, then watched the eggs, trying to guess which would hatch first.

[Kisha-Ra]

Wraith hummed along with the other salamandyrs, the dragons, and yes, even the detested firelizards. She wanted to see the hatching, the others that lived with her humanpet were already going. It was time for hers to wake up!

Bug! Bugs! Bugs, noooooooow! Wraith insisted, not bothering to break her humming for a vocal sound. The desired result was still achieved, her humanpet shot up and almost fell out of his bunk.

Jarathon muttered a moderately vile curse under his breath, he was going to skin Wraith and make gloves out of her for this. Blinking sleepily Jarathon attempted to glare at Wraith. ‘Whaddya do that for? Shut up and go t’ sleep. It’s night.’ He grumbled. Bugs! Wraith insisted stubbornly. Things began to fall into place for Jarathon. No sign of Tenmor, the humming he now realized he could feel in his bones as much as hear, Wraith insisting that he should get up…

‘Oh shards! It’s hatching time right? Where’s my robe?’ Jarathon looked wildly around the room in panic, even though he’d carefully packed the robe away at the bottom of the clothes chest. Rushing around Jarathon splashed tepid water on his face and wiped the worst of the dirt off then dug the robe, the only thing of his that was folded, out of the chest, scattering his clothes all over the place in the process.

After several tries, he got the robe on the right way around and even got it belted. His sandals, at least, were not hard to find, and were picked up to allow him to run without falling over them. Wraith seemed to think he was ready, or else she was running out of patience, because she took a flying leap off his bunk to land on his arm and scuttle up onto his head and comb his hair for him with her talons. Jarathon left her there; it wasn’t as if his hair would look worse for having a salamandyr arrange it for him.

Now? Wraith inquired. ‘Now.’ Jarathon confirmed, and received a sense of approval from Wraith before he dashed out the door.

Once again, Jarathon paused outside the hatching grounds, though this time he did no more than drop his sandals on the ground and slid his feet into them. Today there was no time to catch his breath, and Jarathon stepped onto the sands trying to look like he hadn’t run all the way there. Wraith scurried down his body and away across the sands, probably to find a good place to watch the hatching from.

Tonight, Millieth looked larger and more imposing than ever, Jarathon thought as he bowed deeply to her and moved to stand among the other boys.


XxXxX


Odian moved quickly, quietly and above all efficiently. He didn’t waste time with cursing and rushing through things so they needed doing more than once. He moved swiftly and with a detached calm that would have surprised him if every emotion wasn’t muted by that odd calm feeling.

His robe went smoothly over his head, the unadorned white garment making him look like a child wearing his sister’s dress. Idly he wondered why the robes were required, were the hatchlings perhaps so attracted by bright colours that they would Impress to anyone who donned a gaudy shirt? Or was it simply a tradition, so steeped in time that the meaning was lost?

Sandals scuffed the ground as Odian strode to the hatching grounds along the route he had meticulously memorised when he’d gone there for the touching. Others ran, he was certain young Jarathon had passed him, but Odian didn’t need to run. That composure that forced all emotion to the back of his skull and left only logic let him know that he didn’t need to; if his dragon hatched while he wasn’t there the hatchling would wait. There was no reason to run.

As he bowed to the queen and took his place among the candidates the fog of calm lifted from his mind, allowing all his emotions free rein again. Was it possible to be terrified and elated at once? Certainly that was what his emotional reaction, insofar as Odian could measure it, seemed to be. His heart soared for the dragonets that fought to free themselves of their prisons of shell, yet his insides felt like water and he knew without looking that his hands trembled.


XxXxX


Janisi stirred restlessly in her blankets, broken shards of dreams drifting around her head. Deep, soft, humming, remembered from her dreams, made her smile in the darkened room. That had been an odd dream, deep with emotion and that humming…

Janisi cocked her head to one side, listening. Yes that resonating sound was part of the waking world too. It must be time for the hatching. Janisi moved as surely in the darkness as the light for she was accustomed to early hours, though not so early as this, and her father had no wish to waste glows in the bedrooms.

Certainly the robe that hung on the back of the door was not something one could miss, even in the dark. The fit was a little roomy and the supposed waist of the garment flopped over the provided belt but Janisi dismissed it as unimportant, either way she wouldn’t be wearing the robe for long and if she stood again maybe it would fit better then.

Her hair was braided back in its nighttime runnertail so she didn’t bother about it other than tucking stray hairs behind her ears as she slipped out the door and down the stairs.

The sands were much hotter than she remembered from the Touching, though she’d had sturdy boots on then, and Millieth was even bigger and just as striking by moonlight. She bowed far more deeply than she had back then, her briad amost brushing the sand, and nearly toppled over on her face. Though how foolish she looked was probably the least of anyone’s concerns right now Janisi blushed anyway and scuttled over to join Devai and Sikowy greeting them with a tense smile.

[Tashe]

Stretching her head out toward her children, Millieth's eyes seemed to be constantly switching from red/orange to yellow and then back again in a never ending cycle. Even when Kaegan spoke to her reassuringly, the Gold couldn't calm down her nerves, no matter how hard she tried. Watching each candidate step onto the sands and bow to her, Millieth regarded each with the same mistrust and dislike as the next. They were here for her babies, but they wouldn't get away without a fight... well, at least a mental one. Growling at some of the candidates as they wondered to close to her eggs for comfort, the Queen settled herself in a commanding position, just to make sure everyone knew she was in charge. /They will be alright... they will be strong./ Yes my dear they will. Don't worry.

Kaegan herself hadn't been able to make her way up to the viewing box, and even if she had tried, Millieth would have blocked her process. The large dragon was making the Weyrwoman stay with her down on the couch, she wanted her rider close to her, her presence was the only comfort that seemed to work.

---

The rapid ticking and rocking of the Beachsand Egg began to become more jagged and unpredictable, it wouldn't be long until it hatched. In fact, as it's sibling the Sea egg began to develop large cracks down the sides of its shell, a sharp crack resounded around the hatching arena. The Beachsand egg had broken open slightly to reveal a light brown wing which fluttered almost in greeting to the audience. Several seconds later, the rest of the shell around the protruding wing exploded into hundreds of small shards, spilling the first dragonet onto the sands and into the short silence before the cheering.

The Brown that had fallen out of his egg was small, as small as a large baby blue, but as he flared his wings out above him with a cry he looked as regal as any normal brown would. Taking an unsteady first step, the little male cocked his head to the side as he took in the white robed people before him. Where was His? Hunger driving him forward, the young Brown began his journey over to the males that stood, unaware of the Sea egg shattering behind him.

The crack on the Sea Egg had grown larger and larger, branching off in little radicals that attached the ravines together, and no sooner than the Brown had began to walk toward the candidates did the Sea Egg explode. The small Aquamarine lump shifted slightly before shaking off the egg shell that remained upon his hide, nothing seemed abnormal about the blue, despite his size and the wrinkle that had been in his egg casing. With his eyes closed, the little Blue shifted his head toward the crowd and the candidates, but only when the male opened his eyes did the humans see what was wrong with him. Almost completely white eyes stared blankly out toward nothing in particular, and only thin faint swirls of color showed the emotions that he held at the current time. Watching the blue stumble around his siblings was saddening, the little blue was almost completely blind...

---

Another hatching and another chance to collect new students, and fortunately the Weyrlingmaster was able to collect the names of the Impressed again this year. Quietly adjusting his sort sleeved tunic, F'rah watched as the first two eggs hatched and spilled their bundles onto the ground. The Brown was small, but the Blue was even smaller, definitely not the best starting combination for a hatching. Not only was the blue as small as a green, it was Blind, the Weyrlingmaster didn't need to see the males eyes to determine that. All he had to do was watch the Blue run into his siblings and stare into space to know what ailed the young dragon. "Oh dear. The drugs must have had something to do with this... at least the eggs don't look as bad as Fath's. Millieth's looks stronger." Sighing to himself as he called a blessing on the clutch, F'rah flicked his vision up into the sands just in time to see Laurie wave to him. Lifting a hand happily in greeting, the Brownrider took a moment to watch the blond head bob around in the crowd before returning his gaze to the clutch.

[mangotango]

Alviar joined in the cheering for the small brown with abandon. It wasn't until the Sea Egg hatched that he realized the scale on the hatchlings was wrong. Alviar wasn't an expert on these things, of course, but he thought that creatures that were going to grow to be that big should start out... well, bigger. The muttering around him seemed to confirm that all was not well with this clutch.

Alviar was also slow to realize the blue was blind. He wasn't sure of that either, at first. But when it persisted in walking into things... He winced. The poor thing! He couldn't imagine life without sight for himself, let alone a dragon. Dragons needed to be able to see if they were to fly- couldn't have them running into a mountain! What about Betweening? Didn't the dragon have to have a mental image of where to go? How could they get that if they had never seen a regular image? The questions seemed to come one after another, and at any less critical time Alviar would be tapping the Candidate next to him on the shoulder and seeing if they knew what would become of the dragon. However, Hatchings were very personal things, as far as he could see. It wouldn't be right to break anyone else's concentration with questions that were probably obvious.

So he held his peace and bit his lip, eyes darting between the two hatched dragons. The brown seemed to have it easy- he was small, sure, but it seemed all of his senses were working. Would there be any other "damaged" dragons in so small a clutch?

[irbre]

After his initial speaking, Tenmor remained silent as they continued onward. His mind had already wandered away from Mutasim, towards the upcoming Hatching. He hadn't kept track of the number of times he'd been left Standing. For him it didn't matter horribly, counting the number of times he'd been left staring at the scattered shells, but he wished desperately that maybe this time he would Impress. He didn't care what his dragon looked like or was like. It was a dragon, after all, and that was the purest and simplest part of it. He had always dreamed and fantasized, but would today finally be the day that his hopes came true? Tenmor furrowed his brow unconsciously, still thinking to himself as they arrived at the Sands, with a duo of quivering eggs.

He blinked slowly. So they weren't late after all. None of the dragons had hatched before they arrived, which was all they could ask for. Even as he looked on, one of the eggs quivered and hatched, the Beachsand Egg opened to spill a pale brown forward. The brown was smaller than normal but appeared completely healthy, as Tenmor noted with slight interest. Hadn't the Queen been drugged or some such? He wasn't quite sure, but he watched with increasing anxiety as the second egg opened. The Sea Egg had opened to reveal a strangely aquamarine dragon. At first he stumbled around blindly with his eyes closed, until he opened them. Then Tenmor realized that the small create was actually blind, or at least close to it. He glanced around, gaging the others' reactions. Some were horrified, of course, but at least the little dragon appeared to be healthy, save for his eyesight.

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Quien grinned at a smaller-than-average brown broke through his shell, the first to roll out onto the Sands. Sure, he was small, but that didn't stop him in any manner. He looked just as powerful as any other hatchling out there, and regal as well. Lips still quirked, Quien turned his attention towards the other eggs, which had hatched without him noticing. A blue, this time, but with such pale eyes. Quien's expression slipped into a frown and he looked closer. Could the poor thing be blind? It seemed to be able to move with a slight semblance of sight, though, so it must have had a tiny bit of his its eyesight left. Quien was tempted to call out to the poor thing but insteaad turned his eyes towards the remaining eggs. It was horrifically sad, but there was little he could do. Now the Mango and Tribal Eggs were moving. Hopefully they held something less...mutated.