Grains of Sand (Millieth's Hatching)

[Requiem]

Ur'h folded his arms across his chest. He'd known, of course, though he wasn't part of it. They knew better than to ask that of him. The brownrider understood the logic but that didn't make him predisposed to agree with it. He figured that it was better to wait and see and let them perish in duty if that was the inevitable end. Waste of resources that it may have been.

Ykkith moved to encircle Peppeth. It would block off her line of sight, though not, of course, the sounds or the abrupt yank of the young minds. He didn't want her getting caught up in whatever happened next. Millieth was so unpredictable at times and chaos allowed for all sorts of 'mistakes.' This green would not be hurt by them if Ykkith could do anything about it. It is not our way, little one, to let the babies endure that sort of hardship. He said nothing of the fruitlessness of feeding huge dragons that served no purpose.

---

Armind, who had been more than just a little disappointed to find that his dragon had not been in this clutch (of course he'd get one eventually, and it would be the best) stood stock-still at the sudden surge of violence on the Sands. That was when he realized he was right in the path of the charging gold dragon. Rosanna, too. The child snatched at her wrist and darted off the sands. He tried to tug her behind him as far as he could, but...well, really he just wasn't going to stop whether she followed or not. The death breaking out all around was just too much for the child to handle.

---

Millieth wasn't the only dragon to react to the slayings of the hatchlings on the Sands below. It wasn't a conscious decision at all. In fact, it was more of a distinct feeling that something very terrible was about to happen. Something he needed to stop. The brown was diving before the first drop of ichor hit the Sands. The frantic tugging at his mind from His came too late. Just as Behruth was too late to stop the deaths of the poor younglings.

'Ruth! Above you! M'ta was darting down the stands, through the press of people milling around in confusion and shock as quickly as he was able. This was one time he'd really like to be quite a bit larger. Behruth could have veered away. There was nothing more he could do. Millieth was protecting the last of the hatchlings to be attacked. There was not so much time to make a decision in a dive, though, and when it came right down to it...there was no guarantee that changing the course of his knee-jerk reaction would do him any good.

"Ruth!" The cry was lost to the crowds. Behruth's was not. He adjusted his course enough to catch N'ran in his claws, the man bisected by the swipe. Millieth. His voice was calm, even as he landed amidst the people and lunged for S'tal from behind, fully intending to cut the man in half in his jaws. You don't have the luxury of acting on emotion. It will be a slaughter if you don't stop it. USE YOUR VOICE.

[Ember]

Feh, hatchings. Ae'on had only gone to this one in case a Healer was needed, just like with Sfelyth's hatching. This hatching would prove something to the teen though - you always got more than you bargained for at hatchings. When the chaos broke out on the sands Ae'on was immediately wide eyed and holding his hands over his ears to try and shut out the mix of keens and roars. His first conscious thought was that the Wastelanders were really freaking stupid. That people wouldn't just sit by calmly ought to have been a given. They should have either left them alone or killed them away from everyone else.

The resulting mess and even the murders themselves had the bluepair thoroughly pissed though both knew they couldn't do anything about the situ- what was Erilena doing now? "Idiot girl..." Ae'on snapped in what might have passed as mere anger to others nearby. That wasn't entirely the case though. He couldn't say he knew the greenrider terribly well but she had been a friend of his sister, apparently, and a Healer too, and both facts led to at least a smidgen of respect from him.

He was up from his seat before Sfelyth could even issue a protest to his intentions. He wasn't about to let another person die for no reason if he could help it. Grouchy, moody, easily angered. No matter what people called him he was ultimately kind. He jumped over the rail after Erilena and dashed after her. If he could just stop her before she got into the mess of people and dragons...He launched himself at her and was mildly surprised that he was actually succesfully in tackling her. "You really are a stupid blonde. There's nothing you can do for them, Erilena! We'll only cause more trouble if we go there right now." Well, even if she didn't hear what he said he wasn't about to let her up just then. Sheesh, girls were too much trouble.

----

Horrified aptly described Dy'shi's reaction to the slaying of the newly hatched dragons. As a rider of a so-called mutant dragon as well he was especially affected by the deaths. He was incredibly thankful to have Chakraith, odd though she was, and couldn't even begin to imagine what the ones who had lost their new partners must be feeling. Chakraith was not willing to sit around sniffling like Dy'shi was though. The Selenitas dragons were angry. The babies were probably scared. It wasn't the right time to fight.

Millieth, you must stop, the female blue said, tone emanating the calmness that characterized her. Innocent people and dragons will be hurt if you do not stop them. The surviving hatchlings should be given priority...I am sorry, mother. Sorry her brothers and sisters had been killed, sorry she couldn't do anything more, sorry to have said such rude things. It was far too sad a day for what was usually a wonderful occurence. Also, as far as siblings went...

Chakraith turned her attention to the enraged Feyrianth. In the absence of Mavenath (who Feyrianth didn't seem to like anyways) she figured it was up to her to look after her siblings. The blue made her way over to her four-winged sister and crooned a low note. Feyrianth, sister, Chakraith made her presence known as she approached closer, offering the comfort physical contact could offer. She would have liked to give and receive such treatment to Hers but that wasn't possible at the moment.

[Rowana]

Ykkith, what are they... Peppeth was watching the strange men coming on the Sands. They were not allowed, were they? Millieth was angry. Peppeth could feel it in the air. The tiny green rose to her feet, even as the blades came out. Brown wings blocked her vision as the first cries ripped the air. She could feel the life fall from them, smell the stench of the ichor on the sands. Instinctively, Peppeth pushed at Ykkith, yet even now she refused to draw her claws.

WHY?! she screamed, not caring who heard. Her high voice keened to the sky and her eyes turned red. They were HAPPY! They had found Theirs! WHY WOULD YOU TAKE THAT FROM THEM! In the stands Farryl covered her ears as the tears came unbidden to her eyes. Never had she heard her sweet, little Peppeth so very angry. Peppeth lowered her head to stare Ykkith in the face. I was tiny when I hatched, she whispered to him, her voice thick with betrayal and sorrow. They said I might not fly with Mine. Would you have killed me too?

~

G'tor felt his breath catch in his throat even as Kaegan grabbed his arm. His worse fears were coming true. Kaegan's words reached him, but it wasn't the men he was worried about. His hand reached for the knife he always carried. Even as he did, he knew he'd never reach them in time. They were just too many and too well trained. He started to move forward anyway, but Kaegan still had his arm. Kaegan. If Millieth went on a rampage, Kaegan was the only way of stopping it, whether by her words or her death. He had to make sure the Wastelanders didn't decide she and her Queen were a liability.

"Stay with me," G'tor was surprised at how confident his voice sounded. The first screams ripped the air and G'tor pulled Kaegan protectively close. "You can't stop it now," he went on firmly. "But you can keep this from becoming a war. Millieth has to call them off. She must!"

In the stands, Ruskeath's deep voice roared in pure fury. No one touched Millieth's children! Fire touched his eyes and he pushed from his ledge and into the air. Larger than Behruth, Ruskeath took a few more wing beats to gain height. Just a few precious seconds for G'tor to fight through his anger. NO, Ruskeath! G'tor's voice felt small. Do not stop me this time, G'tor, Ruskeath hissed, tightening his wings. I will protect you! I will avenge their deaths! Behruth was already on the sands and he would need help. And what good is that to me if you die? G'tor asked, fighting to stay calm.

It was too little, too late. Ruskeath had truly been pushed beyond his temper. He dropped his wings, claws out, aiming for one of the last standing Wastelander on the Sands, J'orn. G'tor turned to Kaegan, desperation in his eyes. "Please! Millieth has to stop this now!"

~

High in the stands, far from most of the horror below, a figure slumped bonelessly to the floor. His blue dragon covered him protectively with a wing, singing sad songs for the lost ones below. Perhaps 'fainting' is not so bad as you say, T'ke-love, Garaeth whispered to him. You will not have to witness this any further.

[Lotty]

Cooly a voice entered his mind as he looked up from the checkered board in front of him. They figured out that the hatchlings are...different... Well we know how much Benden encouraged us all to appreciate differences, without much more time a white chess piece was moved and all attention was moved to the black pieces. Yes, he was playing against himself (well he was playing with Kierjaarth, but the bronze had little patience for the awkward wiggling his rider did between moves) and not only that, but during the hatching of all things, but really this shouldn't be all too much of a surprise.

Fact of the matter was that none of this was surprising Mi'rah and even as he heard the hall empty out and everyone run to the hatching grounds like headless wherries, he still took the moment to finish his move. Bendenites killed mutant dragons. Wastelanders were former Bendenites. Surprise of all surprises...half of this clutch was going to be dead, and Mi'rah couldn't even find a pique of sadness inside of himself for them because an old teaching in him still stood strong... Feeling nostalgic again? A human curse I would have to say. Once upon a time... No, no, he didn't want to go there. He had come here for a reason, this place was his big holiday, he wasn't supposed to remember the days at the Northern Weyr counting weyrling heads like sheep to the slaughter.

Oh? I should have you know that there is a certain issue of crowd control...and your wingriders are milling about in there. Oh yeah, he probably shouldn't loose any of the few loyalists he had in the chaos....that would be bad, so he begrudgingly abandoned his game - well at least he knew nobody could disturb it - and shuffled off in his uneven walk towards the epicenter of the whole mess. He was a human punching bag, it was only appropriate to throw himself into danger like this...

Entering in onto the stands and pushing his way past a rush of scared weyrfolk who just wanted out, he scanned the sands in time to see Behruth on the sands and... I hate my life, of all the dragons in the weyr, Ruskeath had to go and join him. So help him Faranth if he would be out a wingsecond because of this then...then.... well Mi'rah would be really, really, really, disappointed or something like that. In the mean time with G'tor busy with Kaegan it was only right to grab M'ta before he could go and do anything stupid. While the bronzerider didn't personally know the man, he generally knew that he was one of Meira's friends and a tiny part of him worried that the girl would never forgive him if he passably let the man run onto the sands and get himself killed. He pushed himself through - though not without a few 'pardon me's thrown out there - and grabbed the brownrider's arm, "D...d...don't."

[Ruby]

Chaos, death, screaming. Caden spun, looking for the last dragons, trying to simultaneously shuffle all the Hatchlings behind her and get between S'tal and Er'ani. As it happened, nothing worked, although she did manage to place herself between Ashlyn and the Wastelanders. That was a start? A quick glance for Armind found the boy fleeing the Sands with Rosanna in tow, followed by the hulking Hinsero. With his fists clenched like that, he looked ready to do serious damage to anyone who threatened the remaining Candidates, but no one seemed worried about them anyway. Caden's mental checklist was shrinking, and of course the Wastelanders were only going after those dragons with obvious, problematic mutations. Ashlyn was safe, the new Bronzerider, Mo'rya, was safe, her classmate M'ze was safe; somehow, it seemed only Weyrlings she hadn't known well had impressed mutated dragons. Good luck, she supposed, for her at least.

Caden, however, had nearly forgotten about Nitrath. She assumed the gold would stay out of the way, take care of her self, and protect her siblings if she could. With cries for Millieth left and right, the Weyrling looked for her dragon's mother, finding the adult gold stalking down the stands, eyes a wild red. Caden knew there was nothing she could do but try to keep her friends out of trouble, and keep the remaining Weyrlings from doing anything stupid. She despised the practice of culling, but it was too late now, and there was no need to waste the lives that weren't wasted already.

Nitrath, though, wasn't doing quite as Caden expected. Her eyes were red, too, but they whirled slowly - a compressed rage, which the baby Gold controlled effortlessly. There was a time for expressing strong emotions, but this was a time to use strong emotions. Her brothers and sisters had been killed, her mother was angry, dragons were attacking other dragons. Yes, her mother could stop this, but her mother was not the only gold on the sands. Instead of waiting for Millieth's input, the baby Gold marshaled all of her new-hatched authority, focusing it into a single word: Don't.[/color] Sure, she was only a hatchling, but with all the power of a furious gold behind it, it should hold all of the dragons, at least, for a second.

...But, probably just a second. Maybe long enough for Millieth to come to her senses, but maybe not. The hatchling wasn't done, but her words were most likely lost amidst the chaos, especially given the dangerously calm tone they were delivered in. This is unnecessary. I am certain that we can find a peaceful solution to this - we just need to talk. Both sides, cease the attack, something can be arranged. I do not want anyone else hurt. Violence is not the answer.[/i] Nitrath stalked forward, approaching the nearest Wastelander, the one with the pink shirt on. Caden, discovering that Nitrath was no longer at her side, spun in terror, then literally launched herself at the gold, panicking. It was a good thing Nitrath's spikes weren't hardened yet, or Caden would likely have impaled herself, knocking her dragon out of Z'ves' direct line of sight. No! No, you can't, he'll kill me. You have to stay safe, they won't stop!

---

The attack on the Weyrlings didn't surprise Serissa - Fort had no mutations and so did not cull, but they produced dragonless slaves on a regular basis. As a Healer and a Rider, Serissa had even participated, sometimes; there was a way of sliding a blade into a dragon's spinal cord that severed the impression bond and killed the Dragon without damaging the human as much. Of course, it didn't work if you missed, hence the Healer involvement. On the flip side, she still had enough loyalty to Fort to want to kill some Bendeners. As such, she only reached out halfheartedly to stop Erilena, wondering what kind of damage the delicate blond would inflict. No such luck, though - A'eon got to her first.

With a disappointed "Hmph," she turned to K'thay, still sitting behind her. "Think it's worth tipping our hand to take out a few Bendeners? I think we could get to that one, the one that killed the wingless one. P'... something. We could always be Selenitas loyals, driven mad at the sight of injured hatchlings?" Somehow, a surgical knife had appeared in Serissa's hand, glinting in the light filtering into the hatching sands. Ildyth, for the moment, was quiet, held statue-still by his rider's force of will. No outbursts from him, as outraged as he might be. Cocking an eyebrow at her companion, she added, "We might even be more suspicious if we just sit here. No?"

[Tashe]

She was literally standing on the Green who had tried to block her path when Behruth's voice floated through her mind. A few more dragons bespoke her each one trying to apeal to her sensabilities in the chaos that had begun. The Green she had under her claws had passed out, though ripped up she was... very much so. She was going to be obviously scarred for life, perhaps even limp for her injuries were severe. When the Green stopped moving Millieth lifted her head and swung it around hissing, it was her Rider's voice that subdued the rage and brought it into a managable range. Putting as much will as she could behind her words, she reached out to all the dragons who had reacted badly to the culling. STOP. We must stop. The blood that has already been shed is enough. Go, return to your Weyrs. Do it now. Flaring her wings she pushed against their minds again, giving them no choice but to follow her orders. Finding Lketh, she used a foot to herd him and his human between her front legs. Lketh's, cover your ears. Turning back to the humans on the sands turned battlefield she lowered her head near the fighting humans and roared. As loudly and as long as she could. Being that close, her roar would be temporarily debilitating.

Kaegan was about five steps a head of G'tor on requesting Millieth to stop, but it was like headbutting through two solid rockwalls. Gritting her teeth as she rested her head against his shoulder, the Weyrwoman applied more force behind her mental calls. A layer of sweat had broken out across her forehead and the pleading from the Brownrider wasn't helping at all. "G'tor, don't you think I'm WORKING ON IT." She hadn't meant her voice to be so full of venom but she couldn't help it. It took her another moment to finally get through, imedietly working on her Gold and easing her pain. Calming it until a later time where she could feel remorse instead of rage. Ashen faced, she pulled herself back into reality and clutched at the Brownrider's sleeve. "Im... probably going to faint... soon."

----

K'thay was two fractions of a second too slow to grab Erilena and keep her in the stands, his hand now hovering in the air where the Greenrider had been moments ago. "GIRL GET BACK HERE." But, it was probably to no avail. She was gone and on the sands and he wasn't about to go and chase her down. Well. Maybe. Nope, there someone else got her. He perked an eyebrow at Serissa as he sat back down, a frown plastered on his face. "I think that as Alphawing Riders the punishment for us getting involved would be much greater than anyother person... although its very tempting... very tempting." He paused and looked at the Bluerider with a small grim smile.

[Rei]

N’ran had no time for even a scream. It was Ceremeth who had a bit of time. Even as such the brown didn’t have much time at all. The large brown had noticed Behruth at the last moment and had flung himself from his ledge just slightly after the smaller brown had. As the smaller dragon landed and his was killed the male gave a scream of agony, his trajectory thrown off due to the breaking of minds. The much larger dragon didn’t hold anything back as he slammed into Behruth, he was dead anyway, this was retribution. A final act of revenge before he joined his beyond. Large fore claws sank into the smaller dragon’s back, driving deep with the sheer force of impact.

Both browns where sent tumbling end over end upon collision, a sickening snapping sound filling the air as fragile wing bones snapped under pressure. Hot and ichor soaked sand was sent flying into the air, obscuring sight for a few moments. If Behruth scored a few hits in on his attacker it wasn’t acknowledged. Without his bonded the desperate wasteland brown was merely a husk of his former self. Finally the two brown’s came to a stop, Ceremeth dislodging himself from Behruth with a couple vicious kicks of his back feet. Literally ripping his talons out of the other brown, the larger male gave a final keen of pain and desperation before he finally disappeared between. Leaving the smaller mahogany colored brown behind in a rapidly spreading pool of ichor.

~~~

S’tal had been saved by Ceremeth, this much was true. Without the intrusion by N’ran’s brown he would have been impaled. But it hardly mattered….Yisindrath lay broken upon the sands pinned beneath the queen’s great weight. His dragon’s plight far outweighed anything else in the Wastelanders mind as he stumbled towards her calling her name over and over like a chant.

~~~

J’orn wasn’t paying much attention to what was going on above him. The bluerider was far to concerned with what was going on around him. One very pissed off gold on a rampage and a collision of brown hides had the wastelander seeking to flee.

Lucky enough for him his blue, Dendareith, was paying attention. As Ruskeath aimed for his rider the smaller blue didn’t give a shriek of fury. Nor did he announce his presence at all. Icy calm was the blue as he informed his to move. Then, folding his wings, Dendareith shot in front of the bigger brown, his claws aiming for the large male’s face with the intention of distracting him from his target. Couldn’t attack what you couldn’t see and if Ruskeath didn’t attempt to avoid the strike from the much quicker blue it was entirely likely the brown would have severe damage to at least one eye.

Fortunately for Ruskeath, Millieth’s broadcast had the wasteland blue banking away from his target with a hiss. Denied he was but the queen’s command would keep his safe. That was the only thing that mattered to Dendareith anyway. Looping around the blue gave a final hiss before winging out of the entrance to the hatching grounds.

~~~

As the dragons began to wing out of the hatching grounds, under their queen’s direction, a bronzerider made his way down the stands and towards Kaegan. R'kel. It was he who had been put in charge during Ja’kin’s absence this day. “Weyrwoman. You may have your child back when we are sure that this fiasco is over.” Stopping a few feet from her his eyes narrowed on G’tor before going back to the Wastelanders still on the sands. Waving at the Ur’h the tall man spoke. “Get the Weyrlings off the sands and to the barracks. Have a dragon healer check the albino. If it’s healthy we’ll spare it.” Gaze going back to Kaegan the bronzer’s gaze softened perhaps a little. “Return to your weyr with your queen Weyrwoman. Kai will be brought to you as soon as you can assure us that violence will not break out again.”

~~~

Z’ves ignored the approaching gold hatchling. Even going to far as to raise an eyebrow at Caden’s weird response. Why was she tackling her gold? Didn’t she realize that those marked for death where already gone? There was simply too much emotion rolling around for something so simple. These fools had no real clue about how the world really worked outside of their fantasy land did they? Without a word the bluerider slipped back through the violent and ichor soaked scene to regroup with J’orn and the other remaining wastelanders. Stepping over the dead as if they did not exist he stopped next to P’tol and examined the still packed stands with quiet interest.

Perhaps the new queen’s words where drowned out in the insuring chaos but at least one dragon heard them and as Lucith winged back to his ledge he couldn’t help but answer Nitrath. Silly baby. You have much to learn. There is not always a violence free path. Especially in these times of war. There will always be blood spilled. Your commands are pointless, overshadowed as they are by Millieth. Like ice his tone was, emotionless. Curling up on his ledge the blue gave a yawn and half lidded his eyes as he waited for the return of his.

~~~~

Erilena was partway to the scene by this point. Descending dragons, for the most part, ignored in her single minded determination to get to the ones who had fallen. Which was just pointless. They were dead. That much should have been obvious. A sudden weight hitting her from an angle had the greenrider and her ‘assailant’ tumbling onto the hot sands. Breath momentarily knocked from her chest the woman struggled to half turn and get a good look at the one who had just tackled her to the ground. Would be a heck of a lot easier if they didn’t have their fat butt parked on her though. Okay so maybe she was just a little upset with being stopped. A male’s voice suddenly cut into her muddled thoughts however rending her silent. She recognized the boy’s voice fortunately. Ae’on.

Blonde hair obscuring most of her face Erilena gave a half hearted attempt to struggle out from under the blueweyrling. Half hearted because she knew he was right. “I know. I know. I just. Other people could get hurt and...” A sudden shadow from overhead had the woman shoving at Ae’on as best as she could. “Okay. I promise not to run away but you may want to let me up before…” The sentence finished in a strangled sounding cry as two rolling brown dragons passed by close enough that the healer pair where splattered with sand and ichor. Trembling slightly from the close call the greenrider’s eyes fell on the two dragons as one leapt between, and her heart leapt to her throat as she recognized the other. No. Not Behruth.

Millieth’s roar caused a temporary freeze and as things began to work themselves out and the dragon’s began to draw away and back to their ledges Erilena finally was able to get shakily to her feet. One hand grabbed onto Ae’on’s sleeve before she found her voice. “You may want to get some help.” Because the two dragons that where injured where going to require far more experience than any of the healers currently on the sands had. Providing they could hold on that long anyway. “Someone needs to call Kali.” The blonde offered in parting before she made a step in Behruth’s direction. Closer to the brown, she reasoned, but in all honesty Erilena wasn’t sure she could even look at a wasteland dragon right now. Let alone attempt to save one.

Feyrianth actually flinched when Chakraith bespoke her. Upset and angry whirling eyes turned to her approaching blue sister, a low whimpering whine sounding in her throat. Chakraith. The lack of an affectionate nickname was a clear sign that the green was in stress. Slinking over to her sister, her entire posture subdued, the green’s head pressed gently against the blue’s side a heartbroken keen leaving her throat. I do not understand my sister. Why? How are they any different than you or I? Quiet Feyrianth’s words where, laced with a deep sadness even as she tried to ignore all the violence surrounding her. Wrong it was all wrong. Terribly wrong.

Millieth’s broadcast had Feyrianth responding with the rest. Pulling reluctantly away from her sister and flaring all four wings in preparation for flight. Only Millieth’s unbreakable command had the green leaving, for hers was still on the sands and Behruth was badly injured, perhaps near death. Every fiber of her being rebelled against going back to her ledge but Millieth could not be denied and with a final keen the four winged dragon leapt into the air her. Her mind brushing clam and loving against Behruth’s, staying there even as help started to approach the small brown. There was nothing more Feyrianth could do for him, but if between had to claim him... Well she refused to let him face it without her quiet and loving mental presence to perhaps ease the transfer.

[Avu]

Ka’aen didn’t bother answering Z’ves; he waved a hand with a vaguely amused expression on his face, stepping back away from the Sands. He wasn’t really involved in any of this—it wasn’t his forte, killing hatchlings. Not to imply it was any of the others’, either, but…he just wasn’t doing it. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be down here, obviously. Since he was. His arms folded across his chest, the bluerider tipping his head to peer up at the Stands in silence, knowing full well what he would see elsewhere. He just wanted to know the reaction…his fingers twitched slightly against his biceps at the first shrill keen, Rhiiseth’s mind purring quietly against his, dark in its silence, and his lips thinned.

Of course Selenitas would protest. Of course. Didn’t they know it was just a favor—casualty of war, just closer to home than they were used to. You’re okay, aren’t you? he pressed quietly of Rhiiseth. Selenitas surely knew the blue was Wasteland—his hide was too distinctive to be anything but. Hoping that just because he was in the Stands with the other Selenitas dragons, he would not be recognized—that would have been foolish.

The shadows do not reach, Rhiiseth replied calmly. The blue had coiled away from Feyrianth, watching her with quietly glittering eyes, curiosity prominent in yellow shades across the glassy surface. The spill of blood and ichor on the Sands below didn’t earn acknowledgement—all he knew was that if Feyrianth tried to go into the Sands to play hero, he would have to sit on her. Less for the sake of his own (although there was that, too, of course) than for Feyrianth’s; she would hate him but she would be alive, and that would just have to be good enough. Protecting the crazies was just so much work, wasn’t it?

He tipped his head sideways curiously at the new gold’s words, a weird croon touching his throat. Could not resist answering, even as he reared backwards, snaking away silently in response to Millieth’s orders: Brave words, O Star…brave, but the night is omnipresent and such a small star cannot vanquish all. Patience, peace weaver. Your time to shine will come. The words were less reassurance and more promise, purred quietly before Rhiiseth dipped his wing, lazily spiraling back towards his weyr. As per orders. Bother. Did queens really have to be so unavoidable?

Ka’aen cast a glance towards Z’ves and the other Wastelanders, triumphant amid the bodies and blood, and made a small dissatisfied noise in his throat. Did they have to, right in front of the entire weyr—couldn’t they have really planned a better time? Give them rooms and kill them painlessly in their sleep or something. It didn’t have to be a full-out slaughter. But, of course, it wasn’t like his opinion had been asked, and that was okay, he supposed. The bluerider scanned the Sands briefly, and then turned to leave the Sands. Rhiiseth would be waiting for him, and he didn’t want to watch the fall-out here.

[Kisha-Ra]

Mo’rya was so absorbed in feeding his newest bonded that he barely noticed Caden and her gold arriving, let alone who the last two hatchlings chose. It was a wonderful day was it not? The boy thought with a slightly foolish grin on his face. Just wait until Ghost met Epifayrmuth, she’d love him!

Epifayrmuth, more aware of his surroundings than his bonded, raised his head at movement and an agitated sound from his dam, turning his head away from Mo’rya’s silent offering of more food the small bronze lashed his tail. Something is not-[/color] the young bronze’s sentence snapped off unconcluded to be replaced by an eerie keen as all heel seemed to break loose on the sands.

Mo’rya let the meat he’d offered Epifayrmuth drop from his fingers, the bronze was wary of something, what? As a wild racket of enraged roars, furious shrieks, and distressed keens broke out Mo’rya had his answer. The boy’s eyes rolled around wildly, snapping from point to point. The rider with the pink shirt stepping back from the thrashing body of a blue hatchling, a green falling to the sands, bright human blood spraying amongst the green ichor. A rising tide of shock, fear, and rage held the boy still for long moments. Above it all rose one question, fuelled by rage and sorrow: Why? Why do this?

Epifayrmuth did not answer the question that rang in his mind; in truth he had no answers. He could see the pattern, all those that were obviously different, the ones who might not fly, the ones that Mo’rya so cheerfully thought would have chosen healers and other people with important jobs were the ones that dropped to the sands and then vanished forever. Though his eyes blazed a fearsome red in his sudden rage the young bronze knew and understood that he was too small as yet to join the battle. Rather than let himself be needlessly crushed by some fully grown dragon the bronze hatchling did his best to place himself between the fight and his surviving clutchmates. A solid weight dropping onto the back of his skull prompted momentry panic and a violent headshake in a bid to rid himself of whatever it was but a series of infuriated images and thoughts made him understand, it was just one of the little cousins, most likely the one bonded to Mo’rya.

Indeed it was Ghost, the hatching was over and these babies needed protection. The firelizard stood braced on the back of her bronze baby’s head (Epifayrmuth belonged to hers and therefore belonged to her too) mantling her wings defiantly. Just let one of those baby killers come over here and she’d teach them something they’d never forget. The firelizard’s defiance might have been comical if it hadn’t been backed by so much fury.

How had Nitrath got there? Epifayrmuth hadn’t even seen her move, but there she was, acting very much the queen. He was proud of her but now was not the time for that, she was going to get hurt, that one wearing the colour Mo’rya had admired was the one who struck first. The bronze managed three steps towards his sister (to back her up or to stop her he hadn’t quite decided) before his dam’s voice struck like a hammer blow. The mental command followed by a deafening roar was stunning. Epifayrmuth’s only thought as he stepped back a pace and braced himself was that he hoped everyone else was as disorientated as he was by his dam’s actions. If they weren’t there was more trouble to come.

Mo’rya shook his head quickly, trying to clear away the ringing in his ears. At least it seemed to wake him up a little, though looking around he wasn’t actually sure if being dazed wasn’t a good thing. Foolish. Stupid. The words burned unbidden in his mind, a sudden perception brought along with the arid heat and the dull metallic scent of mingled blood and ichor. The wastelanders would not integrate now, they could have, but now they’d enraged the senior queen, not to mention alienated everyone else, dragon and human. Blackmail and threats could only work for so long before there was nothing left to lose.

That strange moment of perception fled on the wind as Mo’rya stepped up to Epifayrmuth’s side and placed a hand on the bronze hide, cooing soothing nonsense to Ghost. The damage was done now, a furious gold firelizard clawing someone’s eyes out in a rage probably wouldn’t help. Well it might comfort Mo’rya somewhat but it would likely kill Ghost in the long run. Epifayrmuth remained silent, steadfast presence, tainted with sorrow and rage.

[Requiem]

Too late. Millieth's anger was radiating too strongly for the dragons not to react, the brown on his tail speaking all too clearly of the truth that simply moving, even if he hadn't originally intended to attack anyone, was enough to target him. Against that inevitability he'd tried to remove what was causing Millieth's rage as best he could. The weight that slammed into him and dug into his back caused his teeth to snap closed just short of the greenrider. His body was dragged forward over the hot sands with the larger male's momentum and then he was tumbling. The wing flare was a knee jerk reaction to the loss of balance. In normal situations it would have been the right thing to do. The snaps said otherwise in this situation though.

Behruth wasn't yet feeling any of the pain. His adrenaline was still high, the smaller brown trying to twist, to get some sort of leverage to get the other male off him. There was nothing he could do. Every movement just jerked the claws lodged deep in him around. By the time the rolling stopped, the smaller brown was feeling everything, the dragon lashing out with his hind legs in a weak defensive move. He lay on his stomach awkwardly. Shattered wing bones and torn membranes splayed to either side. May Between grant you peace, he murmured to the vanishing brown, head sinking to the sands. Funny. Hatching sands were supposed to be hot, weren't they?

Pain was just lancing down his back much stronger than 'ghost pain' could accurately describe when someone grabbed his arm. The timing was decidedly unfortunate. M'ta's first thought was that he'd been stabbed in the back, of all things, and when he twisted around to confront his attacker the blade was sweeping around for a solid thrust between the ribs. The sudden weakness of Ruth's mind and recognition that was more subconscious than active caused him to pivot even more violently. He snapped the blade back against his wrist and drove his fist full force into Mi'rah's stomach. "Don't what?" A fresh spear of pain where his own knife dug into the flesh of his arm. It wasn't a problem, of course, but it helped focus his mind. The brownrider's lip curled in disgust. "Let me go, Benden bastard." He yanked his arm from Mi'rah's loosened grip.

Did the idiot bronzerider really think he could keep him away from 'Ruth?

---

The old brown didn't respond to Peppeth immediately. She was upset. Understandably so. He was more concerned with keeping her out of the insanity breaking out not far from them. When she turned to face him directly, though, he met her gaze unfailingly. It is possible, he answered honestly. Though you have nothing physically wrong with you so it is less likely than it would be for some of the other dragons that have come from Selenitas clutches. Peppeth...they are happy now. They don't know any better. But once they realize that they are different and there is nothing they can do for the other dragons, that they are outcast and have no purpose, will they be happy then? How many will try to do what they can't and die in the process? Better to end their suffering now before it has begun, better to cut the bonds now before they solidify. I don't know if it's right, Peppeth, but I don't know that it's wrong, either. And there's nothing that we can do about it. Nothing. They will continue to do this whether we like it or not. Whether we fight it or not. There is nothing to do but try to change what you can and accept what you can't. He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck lightly. Almost tentatively. I'm sorry. I wish I had a better answer for you.

Ykkith's head went up at Millieth's order. He glanced toward the bodies of dragons prone on the sands. You are welcome on my ledge, he told the young green as he slowly uncoiled. The unspoken if you want to hung on the air. He dipped his head for Ur'h...only to find the bronzerider interfering. A low growl started in his throat. Leave His in this chaotic mess, with a bunch of weyrlings who had just seen their clutchmates killed? But there was nothing he could do against the orders of a gold. Ur'h stroked his neck reassuringly. The brown huffed and flew off.

The man made his way across the sands, sliding his gloves over his fingers. Really just for something to do with his hands. "Ka'aen. Come with me." He snagged the bluerider's arm. He needed someone else not involved in the actual slayings, and Ka'aen was the closest at hand. "We're taking you to your quarters. Hey! Girl!" This time his voice was raised to address Erilena. "I need these hatchlings off the Sands, and for that I need you. Unless you want to expose them to more of this?"

Ur'h looked to the new weyrlings. "We'll have food brought for your dragons and you'll receive your brief. Gather close here." He pinched the bridge of his nose. The dragonhealer was taking far too much time. "Girl, I told you to get over here!" It might have been better to let her do her inspection in the barracks, but it would be better to leave all the killing on the sands. If the albino must be killed.

[heisokufire9]

Ashlyn's eyes widened in surprise as the hatching proceeded. She was astonished but happy for Caden impressing the gold. The hatching had gone smoothly even if some of the babies were mutated. And the albino blue was unusual for sure. It wasn't like their riders thought any less of them though what the Wastelander's thought was a different matter..

I am so happy for my siblings. Sprith said. The two were happily watching the hatching finish out. Sprith gave a keen for her blue brother who betweened. Ash hated to see the baby between but if it's rider wasn't there then there was nothing they could do. Her eyes widened in absolute horror though when the riders killed the mutated hatchlings. Sprith keened for her dead siblings, an awful sound that tore at Ash's heart. A gasp escaped her as Caden stepped in front of her.

"What are you doing?! I'm not that important! You're the next queenrider!" she exclaimed but then the girl was going after an angry gold hatchling.

Oh, mine. Its awful. They didn't even get a chance to live. Sprith said sadly. Ash nodded.

"I know..." she agreed putting a hand on the green's head. Millieth's roar caused the little green to tremble slightly and Ash winced at the loud sound. Sprith's tail twitched as she looked up at hers.

Mine, what should we do? she asked and Ash spotted the brownrider who was gathering the rest of her weyrling class.

"Come on, I think we're supposed to go with him." she answered and started to head toward the brownrider. She noticed him yell at a girl to gather the weyrlings and frowned. He was letting her gather the weyrlings? Well, he must know her then. There would be time to worry about that later.

[Rowana]

It was hard to say what Peppeth expected Ykkith to stay. Her eyes burned a mix of angry red, and fearful yellow. She didn't want him to be like the others. He was supposed to be her friend, her leader. It wasn't fair, none of it was, and she just didn't understand why. I am young, Peppeth admitted, perhaps for the first time sounded as if she wasn't. The sorrow of those who were lost, not just today, but of her fallen siblings and younger kin. Memories of Farryl, screaming at the ones who murdered her friends before eyes, slipped into the little green's mind. She lowered her head solemnly, her eyes dulling. Yet I know life can not always be happy. Farryl and I have shared many tears as well as joys. She looked up at the brown, pain evident in her eyes. Yet you would deny them even that? Do the human young ones deserve to die as well just for loving them? She shook her head. She could not believe that death was better than any hardship they might have faced. Death was the answer to nothing.

I can not believe this is right, she said fiercely. She didn't want to accept it either. Even so, it was true she could do nothing. She felt so tiny and insignificant. She couldn't even defend her friends when it matter, what good was she? At least Ykkith had included himself with her, perhaps he was not all to blame. His claws were not the ones stained with blood. It was the only reason she did not flinch away when he touched her. She was about to say more, but Millieth's voice hit her like a hammer. She cringed despite herself and her heart yearned to stay. Behruth was hurt! Farryl was too far away and the little ones...

Go Peppeth, Farryl forced herself to stay calm. Kurro and Faii huddle in her lap, too surprised by the giant queen's words to even argue. Hobbs keened sadly, but followed the silent order to circle down and land on Peppeth's back. He would stay with her, he promised. Peppeth cried softly fluttering into the air after Ykkith. Please be well, Behruth! she cried, desperate to stay until she was sure. But she could not disobey the order.

She followed the older brown in silence for long moments, before finally decided to land on his ledge instead of her own. She perched there, hanging by her claws. She wasn't sure she really wanted to be near him anymore. Yet she didn't want to be alone either and Hobbs was only a small comfort. Ykkith? she asked tentatively, her voice again small and childlike. Does this mean we can no longer be friends? The idea was heart breaking, even after all this. Must she loose yet another person she loved? What if Ykkith did try to kill her one day? It was all too cruel to be bearable.

Farryl fidgeted in the stands. She was burning with fury and the pain of being useless yet again. She could do nothing from here. Going down to the sands now was futile and pointless. If only Peppeth hadn't been so close to it all. It would be a long time before she got over this. Farryl resolved to find Ur'h later. Wasteland or no, his dragon had protected hers. She owed him some thanks for that.

~

Without warning the blue invaded Ruskeath's vision. He saw the claws coming and felt the hot anger burning inside him. G'tor cries of alarm went unheeded as the enraged brown dove straight for his prey. What did he care for a few scars so long as his Queen and her hatchlings were safe. He would die for them willingly if that's what it took. It was Millieth's order that saved him. The instinct to obey took over and Ruskeath forced himself to pull away.

Dendareith's claws drew lines of fire across his face and right eye, leaving him half blind with the spilling ichor. Yet he forced himself not to lash out. Flapping hard to keep from crashing into the sands, Ruskeath pulled back up into the air. The sharp sadness of failure hurt more than any pain or humiliation the blue might have caused. I am sorry, my queen, he whispered, mournfully formal. He longed to stay. Behruth was horribly injured and G'tor was still there. He would have to leave them and trust Millieth to keep them both safe. Awkwardly with only half his sight, he soared out.

G'tor almost pulled away at how angry Kaegan sounded. Indeed he might have, if she hadn't been holding on so hard. He hadn't meant to push her that much, but he should have known. Shard curse the Wastelanders and Ruskeath's stubbornness! It was so hard to think straight. Millieth's roared deafened his ears even as sharp pain hit him from his dragon. Ruskeath! He could feel it, but he couldn't tell how bad it was. Worry for him and Behruth made him sick to his stomach. He could barely see anything but Kaegan and Millieth, but he knew it must be bad.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Sorry for what? For shouting at her? For being so completely useless. By Faranth, what had he been thinking? All he could think to do now was the same as when this had all started. He had to keep Kaegan safe. Even if she was mad at him. Holding himself steady, he stood behind her. "I'm right here," he offered softly. He could catch her if she needed it. What else could he do?

R'kel's approach made G'tor tense, ready to fight if he had to. Yet it seemed it would not be needed. R'kel ignored him for the most part, though G'tor met his eyes stonily. He felt relief to hear that Kai would still be returned safely. He hadn't voiced it before, but he'd suspected the boy had been taken because the Wastelanders had expected to have to do this. They were lucky that the violent response hadn't given them cause to kill him as well. Desperate to see if Ruskeath was alright, G'tor stood firm with Kaegan. He knew his dragon wasn't nearly as bad as poor Behruth. He would stay until he was sure the Weyrwoman would be safe and well.

~

Garaeth nudged T'ke's still form. Millieth wanted them all to leave, but how could he leave his rider like this? Sighing worriedly, the blue picked up T'ke in his claws as gently as he could. I know you hate to travel this way, he told the silent boy, even as he bore them carefully aloft. You would hate being left even more.

[Ruby]

"Mm, you have a point," Serissa mused, looking more than dissapointed. As if to confirm K'thay's suspicions, Millieth's roar cut off any argument Serissa could have made, pressing on Ildyth's mind like a ton of bricks. Mine, time to go, Serimine, I have to, it's time, can't stay, must take you with me - Serissa cut off her dragon's gentle blathering with a mental squeeze, then patted the pack of supplies at her waist. Go, Ildyth. I have to stay. I may send Castidenloth your direction; be nice to him, will you? Ildyth readily agreed, going between without a complaint. Serissa glanced in Behruth's direction, grimacing at the poor dragon's injuries. Erilena seemed to be taking care of the Weyrlings, and Ae'on had been sent to find Kalierre, so... "Looks like the Brown is mine," she said to K'thay, pulling a bag of bandages up over her shoulder. Her tone had turned brisk, but not without its usual warmth. "Being foreign riders - no matter where we're from - we may want to keep a low profile today," she murmured, keeping her voice low and fast. K'thay should know that, of course, but it didn't hurt to remind him to be careful, even in an oblique way. Serissa liked the other Fortian, after all. "I'm heading to the dining hall for a cup of Klah as soon as I'm done here; join me if you want. We can be eachother's alibi."

Without waiting for an answer, she strode off in Behruth's direction, the fast-moving calm of her stride marking her a Healer even more than her knots did. Serissa was used to battle wounds and patching them up, but... Kalierre would be checking her work, taking over as soon as she got here, no doubt. Whatever Serissa did to help the Brown, it had to be perfect. She didn't know where the Rider was - she knew M'ta by sight and by reputation (all Healers had heard of R'wign's mate), but she'd never attached him to the brown on the sands before her. With a sigh (even if a rider was mad with pain, it was almost always better to know where they were) she approached Behruth from the side of his head so he was sure to get a good look at her, both hands held out in a soothing gesture. "I am here to help, ok? I won't hurt you more. Would you mind telling me what's hurting the worst? If not, that's ok, but I'll have to come close enough to check you out myself. Please don't bite?"
---

I have much to learn, true,[/i] Nitrath conceded, holding Lucith's eye as long as she could as he exited the Hatching Grounds. Though I already understand that violence cannot always be avoided. This was, however, both unnecessary and cruel. Discussing and considering alternatives is always worthwhile; while violence may not be wholly unavoidable, with careful consideration, more lives can be spared.[/i] While another dragon might have been shamed or flustered, corrected so soon after their birth, Nitrath's tone was gentle and kind, as if she were explaining a vital point to a wingleader who just didn't get it. If nothing else, she was sure in her convictions.

Rhiiseth's words, right on the heels Lucith's, made Nitrath hold her head up a little higher, though. I appreciate the vote of confidence. I do have a long way to go even to come close to my mother, still, but I will not disappoint- On that note, Nitrath found her legs knocked out from under her, pinned to the sands by her overreacting Rider. Good job, Caden.

Ashlyn's shout made Caden pause, indignant Gold beneath her, trying to sort out the logic in the girl's statement. Caden was a Weyrling like the rest of them, but she was older, stronger, a trained fighter, used to Benden's tactics - Oh, that's right. Ashlyn's last word had finally penetrated, and Caden scrambled off the young Gold in horror, carefully helping the uninjured Weyrling to her feet. In her sudden panic and distraction, Caden said the only words that made came to her to explain her actions: "Have to protect my siblings." It made sense to her, anyway. With a crooked little smile, she turned to examine Nitrath again, only to discover that the Gold had taken a place next to her Bronze brother, nudging him in Ur'h's direction, adding, Thank you for your support, Epifayrmuth. We'll take care of them, you and I.[/i] That he might not have been coming to help her didn't cross Nitrath's mind. With a vague eye-roll, Caden placed a hand on Nitrath's side, then nodded at Ur'h. Briefs she could handle.

[InsaneWhitey28]

It was a good thing she had arrived when she did then, she had nearly missed seeing the first dragonet hatch, the green nose having quickly become a head as the Juniper Green made her appearance. As the green chirped at her mother, shaking herself like a canine a time afterwards, the Alluvium Egg caught her attention as it seemed to bugle, a second later exploding with tangle of blue appendages. As the blue emerged from the remnants of his shell, Rosanna barely managed to stop her own gasp from rising out of her throat, her eyes wide as she took in the wingless blue. She had heard the rumors, but she had never seen any of Milliath’s previous children, so of course she had expected some of the truth to be exaggerated but no it was really true. On a whim, Rosa titled her head upwards to look around at the dragons present until she saw a green… with four wings. How had she not noticed before!?

Shaking her head at her lack of observation, Rosa returned her attention to the sands in time to see the blue Impress, the Juniper green quickly following the blue’s example and coming over to the girl’s side. For a brief moment, the small that had begun sniffing the air when the hatching started, rose up on its haunches to peer at the green, causing a thought to flash through Rosanna’s mind: Was it her? But the hope sat back slightly disappointed as the green Impressed to another girl, it took her a few minutes to realize who it was. When she saw it was Ashlyn, her feelings of disappointment were roughly shoved away as she let a mischievous smile flit across her face, an eyebrow raising even as her eyes twinkled her congratulations toward the girl. Watching the girl head over to the food table, Rosanna nearly missed Armind’s wave, catching it just in time to give a nod of her head, smile still on her face, as the boy scooted closer to Caden.

From then on Rosanna’s attention was on the hatching, watching as the eggs hatched one by one and Impressed to others, of course there was another instant for just a moment, after all had seen the Datura Hatchling for the blue Albino that it was, when the Ocotillo Green wound her way through all the candidates teasing each in turn and Rosa dearly hoped she would be the one the green chose, such a darling green she was too! But sadly it was not so and that hatchling moved on to choose another. Letting a sigh of disappointment pass her lips, her eyes returned to the Sands in time to see another candidate, Caden if she was correct, walk across the Sands toward the… Albino? No… She had Impressed the queen! How wonderful for her! No matter what people thought Caden was a boy, Rosanna had been in the barracks long enough by now with the other girl to know different, even if she saw no reason to correct others. If Caden wanted them corrected, she’d correct them herself.

Her attention was immediately drawn back to the Sands as the last four eggs hatched, shards sticking into the sand and reminding Rosa of when the Hoodoo Bronze had hatched, sending shards flying through the air, one of them certainly nicking her on the cheek and when she had lifted her hand to inspect the brief wound, her fingers had come away with red droplets of blood. Oh well. Face wounds always bled a lot, she’d take care of it later. Lost in her thoughts, the two greens had already Impressed, causing another wave of disappointment to filter through her, before the Humus Blue caught her eyes. As her gaze landed on him, he gave a chirp of distress and was… gone. The loss of the hatchling was a stab to her heart, the breath catching in her throat as she suddenly felt herself fighting the urge to go brush through the sands and egg shells where he had just stood, as if he was playing a game and was hidden beneath the grains. But no, he was gone. Gone between. It happened sometimes, so she heard. But it still didn’t prepare her for the unexpected pang in her heart, but life moves on.

Shaking her head, she chose instead to focus on the Loess Brown that had hatched, and slipped on his own egg shard and had just gotten to his feet. But the Albino was faster, and made it to the boy candidates before the brown could, hemming the boy’s robe as Impression was made. Then the brown followed suit, taking his sweet time until he Impressed to a boy, yet another candidate Rosanna didn’t know. Yet another sigh of disappointment as the Hatching ended, no dragon left that could possibly be hers. Brief and bitter disappointment welled up in her chest, but it was suddenly forgotten as Milliath rumbled, and with slightly widened eyes Rosanna caught sight of the men entering the Sands and heading toward the newly Impressed.

The air seemed to thicken, the poison using her disappointment as an entry way to slip deeper into her heart and the teen narrowed her eyes at the men suddenly very apprehensive about the whole thing. And then… the first hatchling began to die.

Rosanna watched transfixed as the ichor spilled to the ground, the keen echoing through the air as it was joined my an enraged roar, making an almost eerie music to the whole scene as all the mutated hatchlings were slowly killed one by one. A scream of fear caused Rosanna’s horrified gaze to fly to the green hatchling as the scream ended in a gargle. Shouldn’t she be doing something? At all? She should be angry, sad, something! But at this very moment as the slaughter happened before her, she felt nothing. Emptiness. Even when Tomerin had her throat slit, a candidate Rosa had just begun to know the day before, she felt nothing as the green hatchling gave a keen and disappeared between.

The Albino was the last one left, but the charging Milliath stopped the rider in his tracks as the boy moved between the blue albino and the Wastelander. Wastelander. That one word sent a shiver of hate down her spine so powerful that she wondered how she had not felt anything before, the emptiness forgotten in the moment of absolute loathing she felt. But even as the hate ebbed, she saw that indeed she was standing in the charging queen’s path, surely slated for death if she could get her frozen limbs to move. But before she could be bowled over, a small hand encircled her wrist and pulled her away and her frozen limbs once more began to move.

The wave of hate that had enfolded her in its dark wings was slowly smoldering down, curling itself deep inside her soul and a void was left, a void left that was soon to be filled with a new, even more powerful emotion.

With the other candidates running about her and Armind in a flurry, confused and frightened, scared they’d be next, it came to no surprise to Rosanna as she was knocked down Armind’s hand slipping from her wrist and not returning. She knew, he needed to get away. Besides trying to help her in this candidate stampede was madness, and so she lay on the stone floor, a ways away from the entrance to the Sands, away from the guard dragons. Guard dragons. The phrase shot through her mind with such energy, that she had yet to identify the energy. Why hadn’t the so called guard dragons helped?

Because they’re Wastelanders. the thought penetrated the iciness of her mind with earnest as she got to her feet, the other candidates far ahead and far away from the chaos by now. She had been trampled by a few feet, sure, but most had avoided her, though that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have bruises. Her hair had come undone too, strands hanging in her eyes as she turned looking back at the Hatching entrance, the slowly unwinding braid upon her back in shambles.

Rage.

Complete and utter rage filled the void left behind by the hate, the teen’s eyes staring at the Sands within her sight with fiery eyes, the furnace within her lit once more. This rage, this wild beast of emotion within her was not even close to the tame feline that had been her anger with the girl at the Hall. This was far beyond that, far beyond what Rosanna herself had ever expected to feel in her lifetime. But felt it she did, and with it came the resolve to not only throw her unspoken vow to herself not to do another out of bounds prank on another human on Pern again, but to make sure the Wastelanders would someday get theirs. For now… Well, it seemed her prankster skills were going to be of good use, no?

A dark smirk caught Rosanna’s lips, her features twisting into a mask of dark fury and retribution all in one as she turned away to return to the barracks to clean herself up. As Milliath’s roar rang around Rosa, she felt herself wondering what that best way would be to get at all four of the riders who had spilled blood, and the one who had been intent on it. Once again fury would be her tool, and people her play things. But this time instead of a Craft Hall, it was a Weyr that would be her playground.

Now, to get cleaned up and start building her internal map, which had been sorely neglected, she must know the Weyr better than her enemies after all. With her fury carefully controlled, soothed by the plans forming in the teen’s mind, her face a mask of horror and sorrow, tears streaming down her cheeks, Rosa ran into the barracks only half the tears faked. The innocent, scared, easily controlled teenage girl. Ha.