running out of time [wher hatching!]

[Avu]

The Hatching Sands, usually unoccupied and silent, were alive with noise and movement tonight. The single queen wher, her hide pale as to appear white, was definitely a new one, obviously young, and the huddled eggs just beyond her marked out the reason for her presence, was the one responsible for both noise and movement. Light-sensitive eyes gleamed and flashed in the dimly-lit corner, and the queen paced restlessly, growling and whining to herself; occasionally and spontaneously, she would freeze in place and lift her gleaming, ugly head to the dim light of the two moons, snuffling hungrily, before she resumed her pacing. So long she’d guarded the clutch in the strange human-place; why she’d even laid them here she was not sure of. So many impertinent sillies had come trying to pet her eggs. Pet them. All of them had been repelled without question; the occasional stubborn fool had met her claws and teeth, and scurried away without their dignity. And, though the warmth had made her restless and she yearned to rest away from the heat, to make sure the fools stayed away from her precious clutch, the queen had slept curled up around the clutch protectively.

Only one pair, the bronze wher and his Bonded, had been permitted to come close, and even then was only for a moment, to count, before she was warning them away with rasping growls and snarling. Not a single Candidate had laid eye or grimy palm on the shells that glowed faintly beside her, and the queen was decidedly unhappy; how she wished to move them and herself back to the wilds! But she couldn’t go, not without seeing her babies Hatch, and she certainly couldn’t transport them on her own – and – to ask a dragon or, worse still, a human for help…went against her nature and pride.

The pale queen paced. And then something happened. Something so small that only she heard it. Not even a scuffle, but motion – a shifting, a squirm, a sideways movement…her head spun around and her eyes glowed brightly in the dim moonlight. Tongue flicking out to taste the air, the wher queen took a careful step closer, and then nudged among the eggs, bumping up against them with her nose and licking the rough surfaces with her tongue before she stepped back. For a moment, she was silent. Eyes narrowed, glancing back in the direction of the humans. Serve them right, it would, if she didn’t even call them for the Hatching. She ought not to…and she was very tempted to let them scramble once they realized her entire clutch of babies had gone wild without them, but…the wild was only suited to some. She remembered the broken, dead bodies of her own clutchsiblings in the wild, had no desire for her babies to meet such a fate. Reluctantly, the queen growled to herself, and then, taking a step towards the entrance, she opened her mouth, and uttered a long, almost musical howl.

The scream pierced the air, and was followed by another, before she broadcasted the image of her eggs. Then she fell utterly silent, so silent that it was almost eerie. If they wanted a chance at her babies, they’d come. If they didn’t, if they got lost, they didn’t deserve a chance. Her dual-toed paws carried her back around the eggs again, and she spread her wings defiantly over them, still refusing the right to see them to those who came early. No no; they’d have to actually Hatch before they got to see them. The babies would be for the Candidates; they wouldn’t get the honor of seeing her lovely, lovely eggs. For they were beautiful, to the queen; beyond beautiful. But a second later, her defiance was forgotten as the first of the Candidates began to trickle in, and the queen snapped her wings shut, the moonlight lighting up her clutch as she uttered a steady, rumbling growl; the sound almost drowned out the would-have-been audible crack of one of the eggs…

Past Egg- Green Nautsk to Nautic
Present Egg- Gold Eikask to Eikane
Future Egg- Blue Dmisk to Dmitri
Paradox Egg- Brown Quintresk to Quintrell
Continuum Egg- Bronze Ariysk to Ariya
Warp Egg- Blue Anzask to Anzalorin
Forever Egg- Green Yosk to Yoalla

[Avu]

introducing

the Lost in Time Clutch

thanks to rowana for making the eggs!

Past Egg: This small egg is almost hidden by its clutchmates and might often be ignore since it is neither the prettiest or the biggest. Soft grey is its primarily color, which may seem dull at first, but is actually quite a lovely color. It blends smoothly into darker and shades all over, giving the illusion of mist or clouds. The shell of this egg is smooth and pleasant to touch and is sure to give a good feeling to anyone who gives it notice.

Present Egg: This egg demands to be the center of attention. It stands in the front of the clutch and is quite large so that it hides some of the others from view. Its primary color is a bright yellow gold that seems to shine even in the dim light. Within the gold, however are red spots and streaks, almost like scars scatter across the otherwise unmarked surface. It's surface is rough and uneven, but not unpleasant. The mind inside is active and alert, but holds its secrets close.

Future Egg: This egg, in sharp contrast to its fellows is completely white. No markings or colors at all anywhere on its surface. It's so white in fact, that it stands out among the others and almost seems to shine or glow with its own light. Its shell is smooth and frictionless to the touch. Though clearly alive, it is hard to tell what kind of mind lies beneath the blank surface of this egg. Its decidedly average size makes it impossible to even guess its color. This egg remains a complete mystery.

Paradox Egg: Glaring is the word that comes to mind when looking at this egg. Though average in every other way, this egg is covered splashes of red, green, blue, pink, orange, purple, and just about any other color in the rainbow. There is no rhyme or reason to this eggs pattern either. The colors contrast badly with each other making it hard to look at for too long. Anyone who dares to approach this egg will find its shell just as perplexing as it varies from glass smooth to sandpaper rough over its surface. It is hard to tell what this strange egg might contain.

Continuum Egg: This large egg is probably one of the loveliest of the clutch. Gently blue, like sky at twilight is its primary color. Yet interlaced in the blue is a line of lilac purple that twists and turns in graceful loops and spirals. If you tried to follow this line with your finger, you would find it without beginning or end as it snakes along its unique path. The blue parts are silky smooth, but the purple line is bumpy, creating little furrows along its shell.

Warp Egg: This egg is on the small side, though not as small as some of its mates. Its color, however, is sure to raise eyebrows. Black as midnight makes this egg hard to see in the gloom. It may easily be missed by those who are not looking carefully. Tiny turquoise dots speckled the egg's base, yet as they start to elongated until they are swirling in a sea of black at the top. The pattern gives the illusion of stars spinning in the sky around you. It is a dizzying sight. The egg itself is smooth and much cooler than one might expect. There is no doubt, however, that it is very much alive.

Forever Egg: This egg hides behind the others, almost as if it does not want to be seen. It's very small and almost sad looking as it's huddle away from the others. It's color is quite plain. A dull, dreary brown that makes it look rather like it was dropped in mud after clutching. It's shell is quite rough and uneven, and almost clammy to touch. Though not many will like approach this lonely egg, those who do will find it surprisingly eager to come out.

[kat]

It wasn't like a dragon hatching, no, not at all. You didn't put on any robes, nor did you walk across hot sands to get to the clutch which lie on them. Instead, you would go into a den, where the queen would be. Ari had been thinking about the wher hatching ever since the day she'd decided she'd be a candidate. Ever since that day, it had been on her mind, constantly. She'd lost sleep thinking about what would happen, she'd mulled it over in her brain, trying to decide how this would affect and change her life. She'd probably spent more time thinking about it than was normal, even.

She was lying in her bed, writing in her journal. Roo was curled up at the foot of the bed, where she always was for bed time. That's when the noise came. It was the sound she'd been told to wait for, and with it came a strong image of a clutch of wher eggs. Her quill skidded a little in her surprise. It had startled her, and for a brief moment all she could do was wonder if she'd heard and seen right. But there was no mistaking it. She had to go to the clutch, and now.

Roo was told to stay. It was a command that was harder than any other to teach the young canine, but she was now six months old and would not follow if told not to. Though she whimpered in protest, as Ari slipped quickly into her regular clothes, the canine stayed on the bed while she slipped out.

Her heart was pounding so hard, it threatened to burst out of her chest. This was it. The clutch was hatching. She might bond a wher tonight. Her palms were sweaty as she rushed to get to the wherhandler's apartments. She actually felt a bit nauseated, but she bit her tongue, and bit it back. No one else would be nauseated. They'd be excited. She chastised herself and hurried forth, trying to concentrate on the fact that she wanted to bond. She wanted this. She steeled herself before entering the apartments, thinking of how far she'd come already from where she'd been.

She'd learned to be a bit more social. She'd learned no one--except for wherry headed people--would berate her for speaking up from time to time. She'd learned that being spoken to was not a bad thing, and that she could speak back. Even though she was still reserved, quiet and much shyer than most of her peers, she was learning. That meant something to her. It was a good thing.

She entered the den and spotted the queen and her clutch instantly. The eggs were lovely! She hadn't known what to expect. Dragon eggs were pretty, after all. But so were these! She cleared her throat, nervousness returning as she felt perspiration on her forehead. She made a bow to the queen, mouth going a bit dry as she managed, "your clutch is beautiful," before taking up a spot. Should she stay up front like this? Go to the back? The middle? Her mind was racing, but she managed to just stay put. How many others would come? She wasn't sure, but she felt twinges of something akin to hope. Hope that she would bond? Yes, hope that she might bond. Would tonight be the night that changed her life...?

~~~~~~

Tal was downright excited for this up and coming wher hatching. He'd been waiting for days now, assimilating any and all information he could before it was actually upon him. He had been a touch bored as of late. Nothing much seemed to be going on. He liked to keep busy but all there were was chores and a few lessons on whers. Other than that, he just socialized like usual, but more and more lately people were busy with their own lives. Some with dragons, some just with duties.

When Tal heard the sound of the queen giving voice to the hatching of her clutch, he literally leaped out of bed and jogged for the dens, even before the image arrived. He'd been told this would happen, of course. His adrenaline was going like mad, he was completely psyched about this! He couldn't quite calm himself. A grin stretched from ear to ear, and he was too excitable to think that he might not bond anything. That would totally ruin his night, that was for sure. He knew not everyone could, but shardit if he wasn't hoping to.

He was almost there, the night air tasting crisp and clear. He'd even been practicing sleeping more hours during the day, in hopes of getting on a nocturnal schedule. Yes, he'd been prepping for this, no doubt about it. Now that it was actually happening, he was ready as could be for it.

He entered the den, ducking down and adjusting to the dimmer light. There she was. The queen wher, and her clutch. Totally fantastic looking, and one might be for him! There were already two cracking, he could hear and see it. This was it. This was what he'd been preparing for, and it wasn't just some dream. Yes, he'd had dreams. He was young and impetuous and had been waiting for this for months. Why shouldn't he?

He bowed to the queen, still grinning like an idiot. His love for whers had grown over the past few months. They were as exciting as dragons to him, now. He really, really hoped he'd get lucky tonight. As he tried to get himself a little calmer, he licked his lips and eyed the other people arriving. How many would there be? If there were more candidates here than eggs, someone would be left out. That would stink for whoever it was. He secretly hoped it wouldn't be him!

[Tashe]

"Haggersnatch!" There was a pause. "... ugh." Unlike the last Wher hatching, he had woken up at the first scream, causing him to shoot up and send his Salamandyr literally flying to the other end of the bed. He had been startled from a very enjoyable dream, and was momentarily confused as to why he had been shaken from his slumber. And, as if to answer his question personally, another howl emerged and with it a flash of what seemed to be Eggs. The vision however passed through his mind as quickly as it had come, giving him no chance to actually view it in detail, knowing little more than the message it had intended to give. The Wher Clutch was hatching... it took him a moment for the realization to actually sink in. And when it did, there was a flurry of movement as his furs were thrown back and his body trying to move faster than his mind would allow. Which ended with the boy almost falling out of his top bunk in a bundle of blankets and other materials. He was able to catch the edge before that happened, taking that moment to untangle himself /before/ trying to get out of bed.

There was of course, movement from around all around him as interested individuals removed themselves from bed as well, but he hit the ground with a solid thud. He hadn't bothered to use the ladder, instead opting to simply jump from the bunk to the ground. "Ow!" His exclamation came as more of a hiss than a sharp comment, he was in fact despite all his excitement, trying to keep quiet so as not to wake those around him who were still sleeping. Opening his trunk at the end of the bunk (who he actually did share with Rulven, they had figured that out at the previous gather), Nautic rummaged through his clean tunics. Throwing on a grey one, the Candidate looked down at the pants he had been sleeping in. They were of a softer material than the normal pants he wore... but they were an interesting crimson color, and it was the color that had sold him on buying them. He supposed he could just simply wear them to the hatching, pulling on a new pair would take time... plus, he had two of them. He tended to buy things he really liked in pairs, in case one of them was destroyed he could always have another around. Nodding to himself, the Blond shut the trunk before seating himself upon it so that he could pull on his boots. Oh this was certainly exciting! He was out the door in a matter of time, small knife tucked into the back of his pants, his feet carrying him almost faster than he wanted them too down the stairs (on which he almost tripped and fell down in the typical Nausi fashion) and out the door into the night air. He shivered slightly. Straight from the warmth of his furs into the night air, it was to say the least a little chilly for him. Hopefully he'd get used to it, it was still spring after all. Down across the grass and out even further into the night.

It seemed to him that it had taken forever to get to the Wherhandler Appartments, his nerves screwing his sense of time and distance as they danced around in his body. But finally, he was there. Standing at the entrance to the Dens, almost hesitant to go through the short passage way. Forcing his legs to work Nautic entered the heated sands, seeing that his quickened pace had only been beaten by two others. He turned so that he faced the Pale Queen, bowing to her before pacing over to Tal, taking up residence near the other boy's side. Nautic had decided he actually liked Tal, thanks to the comment that the boy had made during the Wher introduction class. Offering the other Candidates a smile, he folded his hands behind his back and turned his attention toward the clutch. Two of the eggs had already begun to crack. And what beautiful eggs they were!

[Ember]

Howl

Eikane sat bolt upright, startled out of sleep by a noise. Mm, hah, whut? Not completely awake yet he tried to roll onto his side...only to crash to the floor cursing in a low voice. "Shards! Wherry brained creatures waking people p in the middle -huh?" The only things up at this hour were...whers. Inconsiderate beasts...He yawned and pushed himself off the floor, noticing others rousing as he did so. Oh? That would likely be the other interested people. He wished them luck as he found something more decent than his bed clothes and his sketchpad. He had no intention of impressing but not many ever saw a wher hatching so it'd be good to go watch.

He yawned again as he quietly left the barracks (not that quiet mattered after his fall) limping slightly from the pain. Damn bunk beds. He should ask Emoyan to let him sleep on the bottom bunk. Hurt less when he fell out. Really though, why'd they have to be photophobic creatures? Messed up their handlers' schedules something fierce. This was a wild wher too, didn't they dislike humans? Well he should be safe enough if he kept his distance. She could snap all she wanted at candidates. He shook his head. No, that was a bad thought. So long as she didn't kill anyone though...maulings were normal at most hatchings right?

Bah! It was too early (late?) for coherent thoughts. He yawned again then gave himself a bit of a shake before entering the sands and wincing at the heat. He went over to the stands, content to sit in the first row, well away from the eggs and wild whers, and watch. How boring was that?

[Requiem]

Out of bed already? All lies. He hadn't been planning anything nasty involving pie filling. Oh no. It was normal to be sneaking around with a covered metal tub full of the stuff. In a rather large knapsack. Headed for Eikane's quarters. Really, who could complain about being smothered in pie filling, anyway? It was yummy. Dmitri could only hope that animals would be attracted to the awesome smell and therefore come to lick the other harper all ov-

Stumbling, he stared at the wherhandler apartments not far from where he now stood, pushing back the loose curls from his face. Howling whers. And, considering the movement he could make out in the near distance, this must mean. A hatching. Oh. Yes. He wanted to see one for his songs, didn't he? (The whole reason he'd started this charade to begin with.) Whers would be a lot easier to dissuade from coming near. Not to mention dragons were evil. His mind turned over a new idea.

And if mommy was busy growling at him, he could be at the hatching and not have to worry about Impressing. Perfect!

Bouncing along toward the apartments, he stepped into the den, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Ah. Looked like Scarf Boy, Dog Girl and Snarky were all here already. Well, good. More people to distract the whers. They deserved the uglies, they did. The pale queen wher wasn't far, and was a bit larger than he'd imagined. (Not as ugly as he commented aloud, though, but Dmitri would hardly admit that. She was aesthetically quite displeasing. In a horrific, I'm going to tear you apart wild sort of way, yes, there was some appeal. As a harper, that sort of thing he could appreciate. A little.)

Okay, time to set in motion Plan Avoid Impression by Being an Ass. Stepping lightly in the queen's direction, he set his pack down, pulling out the tub, and scooting it closer to her with one foot after removing the lid. "It's pie filling," he stated cheerily. "I'm sure you're hungry. I'd be hungry after being here all day. No, no it isn't meat, but it's good." The tone of voice was meant to be nice and calm...and he waited for her to be distracted just a little.

The boy really had very little sense of how dangerous things could be. Claws and fangs were clearly abstractions to him, the stories of wild whers merely stories, because what he did next was nothing short of completely stupid. The moment the wher seemed to have taken her attention off him, he sprung forward and pounced onto her back with a whoop, clinging to her with his knees. There! No chance of crazy whers coming near him now, and he had the best view in the house.

[Avu]

Sillies. The Candidates were awarded with a supremely disinterested sniff from the queen – an undeniably haughty note to her snort – before she flipped her tail and backed away from the eggs to hide herself in a corner, both wings drooping as she stared insistently at the eggs. Expectantly. Were the silly two-legged pale-faced idiots watching? They ought to be, they should, or else – or else – she’d kill them, she would. Just because she didn’t want her babies to Impress to the stupids didn’t mean she didn’t want their attention to be wholly on the eggs, after all…and – what? Her eyes narrowed as Dmitri approached her, and his words earned nothing more than an irritable warning snarl before she butted his midriff with her head to get him out of the way. Not a second after her attention had been focused upon the eggs again, though, had a weight settled firmly on her back. The queen started, both wings flashing out as she jumped and then turned to snap at Dmitri’s ankle (though her neck wasn’t long enough to actually make contact) before she hissed defiantly and then rolled over, a swift motion to put the boy beneath her.

Or, if not beneath her, at least off of her. Hmph. Little idiot would be lucky if she didn’t bite him in half once she was able to get teeth to him…

But the eggs would not wait for their mother’s attention. The first egg, the Past Egg, cracked slowly, and then one more swish of a tail on the inside sent egg pieces scattering across the heated straw, and a short, chubby tail flailed around. A soft click echoed from within the egg, and then a crack appeared on the very top of it – before a green wher’s head poked out from the top, followed by a dual-toed paw that tugged cautiously on the crumbling shell. Tug, tug…tug…it gave way in her paws, and finally the Past Green clambered inelegantly out of the shell, clicking happily at her audience. Her mother earned a confused, squeaky creel (what was she doing?) before the Past Green tripped happily in the direction of the Candidates, giving another clicking sound with her beak-like muzzle; small wings flapped on either of her sides to dry her, and her path seemed to be set straight for Ariya when –

Crack!

The Future Egg broke in half cleanly, and with no further ado, a blue rose from the cramped interior, stretching a long, sturdy body with a yawn before he glanced over at his sister coolly. The Past Green offered a happy chirp in his direction, and the Future Blue offered no reply save for a slight narrowing of his eyes before he clambered entirely out of the ring of eggs, glancing sideways at his clutchmother, and then headed for the Candidates. He reached them before the Past Green did, and, reaching out with one forepaw, grabbed Talien by the leg of his pants, pulling the boy close to sniff at him before the blue uttered an undeniably displeased hiss and pushed Talien away again, roughly; likely his claws nicked the boy’s skin, but it certainly wouldn’t cause any lasting damage – if they had at all. He turned to Nautic instead, and reared onto his hind legs to brace his paws against the boy’s midriff, nosing at his chest for a moment before he shoved off, claws momentarily closing – and probably cutting Nautic much worse than Talien.

No no no. None of them were right. The Future Blue gave an annoyed huff before he glanced with narrowed eyes around at the other Candidates. They weren’t even worth sniffing. Ignoring what pain he may or may not have caused, the blue turned tail and flipped both of his wings before he headed straight back to the clutch. He’d wait, he would, see if someone worthwhile turned up…

But the Past Green had spotted someone worthwhile; how silly of her clutchbrother to have passed him! With a happy little croon, she bolted, tripping and flopping ungracefully across the Sands until she could rub her entire body with an ecstatic warble against Nautic’s legs, her previous target forgotten as her body wound around the boy and her hand darted out to lick his hand. Did he see her? Oh, had her clutchbrother hurt him? Not to worry, not at all, for she was his Nautsk and she’d take good care of him from now on, she would, and she’d never ever let anybody hurt him again. A rough joyful sound emerged from her throat as she licked his hand again gently, the rainbows of Impression brilliant even in the dim lighting.

Past Egg- Green Nautsk to Nautic
Present Egg-
Future Egg- Blue, heading back towards eggs
Paradox Egg-
Continuum Egg- Shaking violently.
Warp Egg-
Forever Egg-

[Avu]

Past Green
Name— Nautsk
Color— Green (#0BDA51)
Impressed to— Nautic
Appearance— Small and squat, is Nautsk. This green wher is positively tiny, and Hers will have to watch out if he ever decides to ride her, for she’ll undoubtedly tire before long; her body is simply not big enough to hold any kind of stamina. But nonetheless, this wher is undeniably cute. Very squat, is she, with a thick body and appendages to match; a slightly squashed nose is complimented by large eyes that are best described as bug eyes; they do protrude slightly, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder and to most, this green can pull it off nicely enough – it gives her a definitely naïve appearance. A thick tail could be quite the weapon if used appropriately, but fortunately, nobody will be on the end of a smack from Nautsk – unless she’s asleep; her tail can complete quite the maneuvers in this case, as well as wings and the rest of her body; it’s not at all unusual for Nautsk to wake up in a completely different position than she fell asleep in, and Hers will simply have to get used to her thrashing. Short, wide wings will never carry Nautsk far; her gliding will be difficult at best, impossible at worst, and if she intends to get into the air, expect to have to train vigorously; her bulk simply cannot defy gravity with any ease.

Despite her struggles in the air, Nautsk has an odd sort of grace on the ground. It’s best described as a bustling kind of grace, the kind of quick, confident movement usually attributed to a mother or a cook in a hurry. Her legs are too short to move with real grace, but she does manage smooth shuffling movements that cover ground just as quickly, even if her legs will have to move much more often than might be desired. Fortunately, her pace is incredibly smooth, and if her handler ever does ride her, there will be scarcely any jolts as long as the ground underfoot isn’t too treacherous and Nautsk isn’t in any panic, for this green works to acquire this smoothness of pace. Doesn’t it make her look ever so much prettier? And it would please Hers if she was pretty, yes? When Nautsk throws caution and beauty to the winds and simply runs, her pace could not be more jolting; this green will end up moving in leaps and bounds. Beware; it’s enough to throw even the most accomplished rider to the ground after awhile.

Her coloring simply adds to the picture of motherly cheer that Nautsk gives off; a bright spring green is her hide, rich in shade. When Nautsk is exceptionally well-oiled, she not only gleams in the moonlight but also glows slightly. It’s quite like a pre-Run glow, and Hers can expect many a male to mistake her health for an imminent Run, but it’ll be quite obvious when Nautsk is expecting to Run, for the glow will be much brighter and she’ll actually glitter, even in the sparse light of the two moons. But multicolored Nautsk certainly is; as if to help her blend into the foliage of the wild, her hide is speckled, with varying shades of green, like a great hand threw a spray of freckles down on her from above, with the thickest gathering down her spine and the numbers decreasing visibly along her legs. Their shades do not vary too much from the base, even though there are quite a few of them in there, darker and lighter both. Her muzzle is comically freckled, too, the speckles gathering over her nose and one of them, larger than the rest, squarely in between her eyes, while another of the same size rests just shy of her left nostril. A springtime wher indeed…

Personality— Nautsk is without doubt an incredibly sweet wher. Even those who are not fond of whers will be hard-pressed not to like her, for this little green simply thrives on pleasing people and other whers, firelizards and salamandyrs and dragons alike. It seems that she simply cannot stand to see a person unhappy and will go out of her way to see to it that they are cheered up again, no matter what she has to do, be it something as simple as bring them a flower (something she will do as often as possible for Hers) to as complicated as trying to dance for them just to make them laugh, just once. Anything will do; she just cannot take the sight of someone that is truly unhappy for long. Nobody should be unhappy, ever! Hers, especially, Nautsk will never see unhappy without wanting to break down into tears herself – fortunately whers cannot cry – and she’ll become quite desperate to make sure he’s happy again as quickly as possible; it’s not unusual to catch sight of this wher running frantically back and forth across the Weyr looking for something – anything – that could possibly, possibly make somebody happy again, anyone from a bawling infant to an old crèche-woman.

Despite her sweet-tempered, others-before-self ways, Nautsk is without a doubt an intelligent creature. She can tell when she’s not wanted and she’ll respect those wishes, depressed though it will likely make her, and she seems good at reading humans and their emotions – much better than the average wher. Her connection with Hers will always be stronger than usual, too, emotions more pronounced and complex, and her reading of Hers much more deep than average. And indeed, Nautsk will often probe into Hers’ mind just to ‘check up’ on how he’s doing, make sure that nothing has happened between that check-up and the last. A paranoid little creature, she is not, but she is motherly in a fretting, sweet kind of way, and Hers is as good as her baby, to Nautsk, regardless of their age difference. And indeed, Nautsk will baby anything that desires, needs, or even vaguely wants such care; be it firelizard or darter, feline or tunnelsnake, Nautsk will gladly take it under her wing.

As she grows, this motherly streak will become more and more pronounced, to the point that she will want to take the clutches of queens under her wing. Perhaps they will take advantage of her, but more likely they will reject the attempts at care – and Nautsk will be quite broken-hearted, but it’s to be expected; not every queen dragon will take kindly to the idea of a green wher tending their clutch more diligently than they themselves! Fortunately, intelligence and understanding aside, Nautsk has a remarkably, contradictorily short memory span; grievances will rapidly fade into the dim, shadowy depths of her mind and be forgotten and as a result, Nautsk will bear no grudges. Her friends, however, those who can cope with her fussing over them constantly and crooning over them possessively, will be forever forefront in her mind; she loves all, and loves deeply.

[rii]

"DON'T EAT ME!"

Quintrell bolted upright from his bottom bunk, not tall enough to hit his head on the top boards as he gazed wide-eyed at the room around him. Pillow was clutched to his chest. His dream had been strange. To say the least, he had been sneaking around the Weyr when he got tangled in some webbing. What kind of Weyr lets a giant spider spin a web in one of holes in the cliffside? Those were meant for dragons not spiders. But none the less he found himself caught, and a giant spider crawling down at him, jaws clicking when suddenly it started howling this horrible—

—Oh wait. Quintrell tilted his head to the side, hearing the Wher's howl. The giant spider was real? What was that in his head? Spider eggs? And where was everyone going, leaving him all alone in the bunks? Whining nosily to himself, Quintrell climbed out of his bed, pillow still in arm, and trailed after the other candidates. "Where we going?" He pried, but no one gave him an answer, leaving Quintrell to sniff indigently to himself. Going to slay the big spider? Er, apparently not.

Quintrell stopped just inside the area that allowed them all to see the pale queen and her prized clutch. The thief mumbled irritably to himself. He had wanted to steal one of those and pawn it off on a lord holder. But if they hatched, then he would have to wait for another clutch. Inconvenient was that. Dressed in only a thin pair of sleeping pants, Quintrell stalked grumpily in after the others, pillow clutched to his chest. He ran fingers through his tousled hair when he froze–eyes glued to the idiot riding the queen.

Inner flail. Someone was going to die tonight. Quintrell paled and began edging back towards the door, his movements slow, but eyes glued to the sight of Dmitri near the queen. Dead bodies were not something he wanted to see. Blood mingling with sand. No no. He had seen plenty of that in Bitra. Best thing to do there was pretend you saw nothing. Fleeing time. Yes, Quintrell spun around quickly to make a made dash to safety, smacking head first into the next candidate that had arrived. The thief fell away, falling to the ground and curling up while holding his nose. "Oww.. What are you doing just standing there!? Ow.."

[kat]

Ari was startled when the first of the eggs broke. It was a green, and seemed to be heading right for her. Was it going to Impress to her then? Would this wher be hers? It was small, suitable, and--going off in another direction as a blue hatched out. She tried to slow her rapidly beating heart, but failed miserably. She had been so sure, and yet she said a quiet congratulations when it bonded instead with Nautic. She had been certain, in that instant, that the green would bond to her. Only it hadn't, and well...it hadn't. There were more eggs.

The blue headed away from her, and she realized she was pretty close out in front. Only a couple others stood so far out in front, and she took a meager step or two backwards. She watched as the blue grabbed a boy she recognized a little by the leg, and then roughly shoved him away like he was nothing more than a dirty piece of meat. She bit her lower lip, as the boy gave a yelp of surprise. Had it cut skin, then? Likely it had--those claws were super sharp. She grimaced and hoped she wouldn't be too unlucky today. Getting mauled wasn't so great. She had been told it might occur but would be accidental. Didn't mean she had to like the idea.

She watched the blue, keeping half her attention on the remainder of the eggs. They were rocking, and she wondered what the rest would hold. She thought she counted six or seven--yes, seven!--in total. Seven whers, seven chances. That wasn't too bad, right? She might get one, she might not. Still, if she did, it would change everything. If not? Well, she supposed she'd keep waiting.

~~~~~~

Tal was perhaps a little too over enthusiastic. He glanced after the green as it headed in the opposite direction from him. It had pretty much acted like he wasn't even there, so there wasn't much hope it had any interest in him. However, then a blue hatched on out. Tal felt the rise of excitement in his chest then, as it headed his way. Was this going to be the one for him? It reached out...

Tal gave a yelp of surprise more than pain as the blue grabbed his leg, leaving a shallow scratch on it. It stung a bit, but as he was shoved away with a rather indignant noise from the blue wher, he was more surprised and more than a little disappointed. It didn't want him, then? It was too bad, he loved the way the blues looked! The green had been nice too, and as he winced and looked down to see the slight blood welling up, he realized he had a tear in his trousers. Well, that wasn't fun. He'd been rejected and he'd need a new pair of trousers. Still, he smiled at Nautic and congratulated him.

Tal's good nature didn't really allow for disappointment to just stay there. There were seven eggs here, maybe that one just wasn't meant for him. He could deal with that just fine. So, he ignored the slight bleeding--it wasn't more serious than a severe feline scratch!--and continued to watch eagerly. At least now he was more aware of the fact that whers could and would do some damage. It hadn't been nasty about it, but it could have been. He watched it wistfully but he knew when to accept rejection. There were still five eggs to hatch, so that's where his attentions should go!

[Requiem]

She wasn't supposed to move so much. Hrm. Bother. Jerking his foot back (even though she really couldn't reach it where it was, anyway) he pressed himself lower. Very uncomfortable back these whers had. And yes, there were the uglies, hatching from their eggs. Now if she'd just sit still his plan would be working perfectly. He'd just caught sight of Nautic being rejected by the blue - as if the whers had a right to reject someone when they'd be lucky if the person even wanted them, especialy with such an ornery one as a dam - when the world suddenly spun.

He hadn't hit his head again had he?! A momentary flare of panic before he realized that no, no, the wher had simply rolled and now. Shards! How much did these things weigh? He'd managed to throw himself a little wide - or likely just flop himself a little wide by accident, but who was really keeping track? - so that when her weight fell on him it left his head, shoulders and chest still mobile. He was pretty sure she'd bruised his pelvis, though, and his eyes slitted.

Clearly, he still hadn't quite learned about these creatures. Clearly. The smart thing to have done would have been to go still. Or maybe attempt to wriggle out from underneath when she was distracted. But no. Of course not. Instead, the boy pushed at her. "This isn't very comfortable, fatty. I know. I know. Fair is fair and all that, but you weigh much more than me and I can't take you for a ride." He arched his back in a valiant effort to roll her off him with his hips. The long hair clung to his face and shoulders, some of it trapped beneath her, and he looked something of a mess, but Dmitri didn't notice as he normally would.

Apparently being trapped under a gold wher was rather distracting. Even the eggs went mostly ignored. Okay, Plan A - failure. Now he needed a Plan B. Just as soon as he could think of one.

Bother.

[Tashe]

He simply stood, staring open mouthed in horror at Dmitri. Was the boy addled in the brain? To even approach a Wild Queen was asking for trouble, but to jump on her was certainly asking for a lot more than just trouble. Nautic was simply astounded by the stupidity of the boy. But he counted it as fortunate when the Queen did no more than shake him off and flop down on top of the Candidate. "By Farnath, lets hope she doesn't decide to snack on him later." He said this to no-one in particular, though he might have just as well directed it to Tal. The first of the Eggs to Crack revealed a small Green, while the second opened cleanly in two to reveal a Blue. Trying to keep your concentration on one hatchling was hard enough, but throw another hatchling and a Queen in there and it was very troublesome. Deciding to watch the Blue, because it had just arrived at Tal's legs, Nautic winced slightly as he yelped in pain. Much like any species with claws, the talons on a baby Wher were pretty sharp. He felt bad for Tal, but was also relieved that the boy had not suffered worse.

As the Blue moved so did his attention, and he was quite surprised as the young Wher pressed it's front paws against his stomach, forcing him to adjust his footing so as to try and support it's weight. It was an awkward position to be in to say the least, and not very comfortable as well. Both physically and mentally. He was grateful when the male moved to get down, until the claws met his mid-drift. Stumbling backward a few steps as the Wher pushed off of him, Nautic almost immediately doubled over. The cuts on his belly were considerably deeper than the ones Tal had received and in all truth, they were quite painful. The blood from the cuts was quickly staining the front of his tunic, and his shirt sleeves. He needed to put pressure against them. Removing his shirt, Nautic balled it up and pressed it against his stomach, not noticing the Green until she wrapped around him and licked his hand.

Well wasn't this a bitter sweet moment. At least now he didn't have to cut his hand, seeing that his stomach had bled well enough onto it. She licked his hand again, with a happy sound. The pain was forgotten momentarily as he let Nautsk lick both of his hands, front to back, free of blood. Though it wasn't enough apparently, for the Green neatly cut the very side of his palm and sucked at it for a moment before rumbling an apology. She couldn't have waited much longer. Sure, in the back of his mind he still registered the burning sensations on his midsection, but the feelings of Bonding were much stronger. "Nautsk." The Green looked up expectantly. "Hello..." And then the pain returned, his Body reminding him that he needed to get to the infirmary. Wincing as he stood and removed his shirt so that he could inspect the damage, Nautic tried not to gag. He was rather sensitive to the sight and subtle smell of human Blood. Quickly pressing the shirt back against his stomach, he glanced down at the Green- his Green, offering her a small smile. "Lets... go... uhng." His trek toward the entrance was slow, but he managed to avoid Quintrell and the candidate who had only just arrived, Nautsk bouncing after him. Her worry was clear as the emotions swept through his mind. He'd have liked to get her some food first, he would have also liked to stay and see who Bonded to who, but hopefully the Infirmary would be able to cater to her needs and anyways, he'd see who Impressed in a day or so. "Ow..."

[glamourie]

Scaries, scary. Scaries noise. We get scaries? Love Anzperfect, scaries? We get? Wakey, wakey, Anzlove. Wakey. We get scaries. Oooooooow-oooooh!

Yes, it was true: Pern had its very first howling salamandyr. Sprite bounced from the spindly knob at the end of Anz’s top bunk to the bed and scurried over to rest on his foot. Her head threw back and she uttered a long, melodious howl that was a very good mimicry of the gold wher’s – if significantly higher in pitch. The little green salamandyr flared her frill for a split second, and then bounced like an angry feline across the top of the bed, coming to a final stop right next to Anz’s face. Her head leaned in close to his and she licked his nose. Then all at once, she flung herself onto one of the top bedposts and repeated her howl, her claws digging into the wood as her tail wound around the post. Even in the darkness of the candidate barracks, her yellowy-green hide was impossible to miss, though the slight glow helped – she was close to Running, though when she’d finally do it was anybody’s guess. Her behavior was certainly off. Shy little Sprite never made enough noise to be heard, but her mimicking howls were impossible to miss.

We get scaries, get! Anz before all~

“Wha?” One eye cracked open, slowly, and then Anz reached up to swat at the bed next to him. His hand hit fabric, but he didn’t appear to notice, aside from feeling around in search of Sprite. “Quiet, Sprite – it’s bedtime, see, see, dark – g’nite.”

Indignant, Sprite gave another loud howl and then flung herself down onto the bottom bunk. The sound, so close to his ear, made Anzalorin jump up and blink in surprise, blond hair sticking up all around his face. Actually sitting up made recognition dawn on him and he rolled off his top bunk after Sprite, feet hitting the ground with a light splack that was clearly flesh hitting wood. Anzalorin yawned and blinked, arms stretching above his head, before he grabbed the side of the bed post. His head cocked to the side and he leaned against the bunk, trying to wake himself up more. Sprite scurried up his leg and came to rest on his lower arm, chittering pleasantly.

“Am I supposed to wear something specific?” Anz asked of the empty barracks; his words received no answer and for good reason – no one was left. Most of the candidates who were attending the wher hatching had already left. He blinked in the darkness and swatted around; Anz did not know that he was actually running late. As a result, he started calling for the one sure-fire wher candidate that he knew of, ambling over to the other boy’s bunk in the process. He was half-asleep, eyes closed still, and he swatted at the cot in an attempt to rouse the other boy but to no success since… Nautic wasn’t there. “Nausi? Hey, Nausi? Nausi…? Nausi?”

Late, late. Gone, Absinthe’s is. Abby before Anzy~ Sprite said helpfully, and Anz crinkled his nose. Slept long did mine. Slept long.

“I’m running late?” Another high-pitched howl was Anzalorin’s only answer, and he gave a startled flail before actually bolting out of the candidate barracks without remembering to get properly dressed. He did have sense enough to pull on his boots, untied, and he made for a comical sight running across the grounds to the river in order to make his way to the wherhandler apartments. His pants were white and covered in floral patterns, completed by lacy white frills at the bottom of each pant leg, which was stuck inside of big black boots that clattered as he ran. It was only a matter of time before he managed to trip over his shoe laces at the speed he was running in the dark. Well thought out plan? Not Anz’s!

He managed to make it to the wherhandler apartments (or the hatching sands there within) relatively quickly – but he was unfortunate enough to literally slam face-first into someone else upon his arrival, and before he had a chance to bow to the queen wher (was he supposed to do that?), he went tumbling to the ground in a disheveled heap that made Sprite squeak in surprise and dive up into Anz’s hair. His hands flew up to his nose, which was sore but thankfully not bleeding. The question he was asked made the blond-haired boy look up and he squinted before replying very firmly, “I wasn’t just standing there, I was coming in and you smacked into me, where are you going in such a hurry, what, did the queen wher bite your butt or something? Sheesh, my nose – are you okay at least?”

[Avu]

Hmph. Not a very comfortable couch…nonetheless, the queen showed no desire to move, turning and nudging at the boy beneath her sharply. Don’t push, silly; just be a good couch and maybe she’d spare him later. Hmrph. Now, why didn’t he pay attention to her clutch? He ought to. A low snarl emerged from her throat and her tail slipped around to flop pointedly right across Dmitri’s chest before she turned her attention back to the clutch and rasped an order at the Future Blue, who had sat down directly in front of the eggs and yawned, showing absolutely no desire to get up and choose a person. But neither did he seem to want to leave; his half-closed eyes regarded the Candidates coolly, lingering on the little collision near the doorway and his clutchsister’s leaving, before he yawned again. His mother’s rasped growl, though, made him turn, and his head tilted in a silent inquiry before he rose to his feet and moved towards the wild queen, offering not a single sound before he made his way around his dam and then tilted his head to look down at Dmitri before he flipped his tail and leaned down to sniff the boy’s face. His muzzle nudged Dmitri’s cheek for a moment before the Future Blue straightened, and then gave a firm mental command to his mother.

Who – obeyed.

She rose from Dmitri and then sat down a distance away, uttering an annoyed sound as the Future Blue leaned down to swipe his tongue roughly over Dmitri’s palm before he nosed at the boy’s arm, and uttered a mental urging to get up – all in complete silence. But the rainbows of his eyes gave it away more than any sound ever could: Dmitri was His now, and he was Dmisk, and he, Dmisk, required blooding, and surely His was aware of that.

Then there were two simultaneous Hatchings. The Continuum Egg positively exploded, shards flying outward in every direction and leaving a hatchling gleaming and dripping in the middle of the Sands, but what would have been totally his spotlight was stolen by the crack that split the Paradox Egg directly down the center, the egg shells splitting apart to reveal, in their center, another hatchling. Both were large; one was distinctly bronze, though, while his brother was brown. The Continuum Bronze sent a frosty glare in his brother’s direction, and received only a soft rasping croon from the Paradox Brown, clearly meant to be a consolation; what on Pern was he so worked-up about, after all? But he spared his brother no more than that, and in the next moment, he rose to his feet, his slender body graceful even with goop dripping from his hide.

There was not the slightest hesitation in the Paradox Brown’s step; he gently butted Ariya out of his way (very, very gently, for she was such a lovely female, was she not?) and crooned roughly to her, licking her palm in passing, but he did not linger long. In no time, he was almost at the doorway, and it was here that he found His. Firmly nosing at Quintrell, the brown slid his nose under the boy’s hand, clearly seeking attention, before he crooned quietly at Anzalorin. The Other would not mind, would he? He, Quintresk, had to claim His, after all, and this was the one he wanted. He was sure of it; this one felt right. The Other would pardon them if they must go now, wouldn’t he? And oh; his brother was still very upset with him, it seemed, but really, Quintresk didn’t know why he was glaring so; he certainly hadn’t meant to distract people from his bronze brother…

Past Egg- Green Nautsk to Nautic
Present Egg-
Future Egg- Blue Dmisk to Dmitri
Paradox Egg- Brown Quintresk to Quintrell
Continuum Egg- Bronze; glaring at Quintresk
Warp Egg-
Forever Egg-

[Avu]

Future Blue
Name— Dmisk
Color— Blue (#23BBC2)
Impressed to— Dmitri
Appearance— Very large for a blue, Dmisk is; he’ll compare with an average-sized brown when he’s full-grown – positively mammoth compared to some of his smaller blue kin. From muzzle to tail-tip, he definitely cuts an impressive figure – even more so when one considers that he has scarcely any excess fat clinging to his frame. Every ounce of quite heavy body is muscle, for Dmisk is decidedly a bulky creature, muscle wrapping around his body, neck, legs, and tail; even his wings are as heavily muscled as to suggest flight is often attempted. This undoubtedly gives him a slightly chubby appearance in the wrong light, but a second glance will dismiss such ideas; the muscle is roped thickly beneath the hide, with every one of Dmisk’s motions showing exactly how well-built he is. His legs are just long enough for the muscle not to look plain strange, and his tail, likewise, is extremely long, gradually slipping into a slender point. His head is, too, surprisingly refined, with a broad forehead narrowing into a slender, delicate muzzle; large eyes are angled, almost feminine, complimented by unusually long, slender head knobs, reminiscent of a dragon’s.

Not so reminiscent of his larger cousins is his odd, predatory grace on the ground. Dmisk doesn’t seem to notice how honestly frightening his way of moving can be. It’s most definitely smooth, every step confident and planned, sending a ripple of movement through his hide that shows off the contours of his body very nicely, but there’s something about the focus of his gaze, the cold, impersonal solemnity of his movements, that makes it come across as most decidedly predatory. His wings are extraordinary, too, for a wher; small enough not to look disproportional, but definitely large enough to support his weight glides. As a result, Dmisk will often add smooth leaping glides to his gait, producing an odd kind of mishmash that is nonetheless exceptionally smooth. Because of his sheer size, His will most definitely be able to ride him, and it’s hard to tell the difference between when Dmisk is gliding to when he’s simply walking, so quick and smooth is his pace.

His coloring detracts from the predatory look that this gigantic blue has; instead of being dark as midnight, or incredibly pale, as might be expected, Dmisk is a decidedly cheerful shade of blue. Very bright, and clear, is the color, bordering on turquoise, though blue is definitely dominant over any green hues in his hide. His hide has a surprisingly matte quality to it; even when wet, or when freshly-oiled, Dmisk will never gain that metallic gleam that most flaunt so proudly – perhaps the mark that his wild mother has on him; it’s much easier to go unnoticed (difficult though his coloring already makes that) without any gleaming to give away his position, and though His may fuss and worry over his hide, it simply refuses to acquire any kind of gleam or glow, healthy though it may or may not be. Darker blue rings his eyes, making them look much larger than they actually are; the same dark blue rings all four of his legs at the ankle – natural anklets, of sorts; he even comes equipped with a natural necklace, for dark blue circles his throat. No need for jewelry and trinkets here!

Personality— Dmisk is an undeniably quiet wher; this blue is not the type to make unnecessary noise, and as a result he can come off as almost eerily silent to those who don’t give him a reason to make noise. He’s not adverse to having a conversation, but Dmisk is much more likely to communicate in emotions and images than noises and physical touches, one of the few creatures who believes that words can mean more than actions if phrased correctly. And very adept is he with forming precise images to show any given person exactly what he means to convey; there is no doubting this blue’s intelligence as something special among whers. There is no unnecessary embellishments, nothing that can be taken the wrong way – every image, every emotion, is quickly and accurately chosen to describe exactly what is needed to be and nothing more. Extremely to-the-point is he; there will be no unnecessary waffling when with Dmisk; he has no patience for it at all. And quite impatient he is, for Dmisk is very well aware of his own intelligence and expects everyone else to measure up to it; that they cannot irks this blue.

However, his emotions are solely his; they will not be shared unless Dmisk deems it necessary, and even then he will only share with those that are the closest to him. Outwardly, this blue presents himself as almost emotionless, quite in charge of himself and capable of self-control to an extraordinary extent. Inwardly, he’s as emotional, as adoring to His and as affectionate to friends, as any – he simply chooses not to show it. Those that he feels are friends, are loved, Dmisk will be devoted to; his friendship is not something that he gives lightly and in no way will Dmisk treat it lightly; his friends are forever, and he expects the same degree of loyalty from them that he offers. None of their secrets will ever be told, and while Dmisk does not seem it, he’s a sympathetic listener when it comes to his friends, offering advice often and actually touching those he is closest to, curling around them as well as his size permits to soothe them. His, especially, is regarded with a special level of devotion and possessiveness, though the latter is not often shown; Dmisk will offer no protest to the attention being taken off of him and offered to someone else as long as His makes sure that he is not replaced as the most loved.

Unerringly polite is Dmisk to those who rank him (though he is slightly arrogant; he refuses to acknowledge them as his betters), never one to make a rude comment or condone gossip behind one’s back. His can rest assured that Dmisk will never get him into trouble, for the rules will be followed carefully. Even if Dmisk has a problem with said rules, rest assured; there will be no rash, defiant acts – Dmisk will simply bring the matter to the attention of one who is capable of getting the rules changed, and leave it at that. He trusts that, slow as some people may be, nervous and shy and incapable as they may be, there are some people that are capable as he and, as a blue, Dmisk is very much aware of the fact that he cannot hope to ever rule. No, his goal is to lead the Night Watch, and though this ambition is not broadcasted widely, it’s clear by the way he insists on knowing everything that goes on in said Watch that he intends on being part of it someday – and his stubborn side will often add, should His decide to argue, that he will be part of it, whether or not His approves.

~*~*~

Paradox Brown
Name— Quintresk
Color— Brown (#8A2D00)
Impressed to— Quintrell
Appearance— Big, Quintresk is. In sheer length, he’ll match (if not surpass) many bronzes, not including his tail – with tail included, he’ll surpass even more bronzes, for his is incredibly long, almost whip-like, flexible and bordering on prehensile, making his rear end just as dangerous as his front for anyone that he feels deserves some small punishment. It’s also very good for winding around His and pulling him along wherever Quintresk wants to go – good luck to His trying to escape. While Quintresk is long, however, he isn’t muscular. A very slender creature, Quintresk is, the length of his body only emphasizing such. His body slides smoothly from the tip of his muzzle to his tail; he sports proportions almost akin to a dragon’s, with a long, slightly arched neck and a small, refined head. While his muzzle is more blunt than is strictly elegant, and his neck ridges are extremely prominent, he still is quite the fine-looking creature. That his wings are smaller than usual will not detract from this brown’s appearance in the least – though they really aren’t too elegant, being wide and quite short.

While Quintresk is extremely graceful on the ground, each step calculated and measured to produce a very quick, efficient, smooth pace that looks more like gliding than actually walking. Most whers will be hard-pressed to keep up with Quintresk, let alone with the level of elegance that he manages; Quintresk has a decidedly unique gait. Each movement makes hide ripple over the wiry muscling under his coat; the appearance might have been quite a predatory, frightening one had something about Quintresk make it look just like natural gliding. If any draconic creature could dance, it would be Quintresk. However, due to the inferior size of Quintresk’s wings in comparison to the others of his species, flying will be completely impossible, and even actual gliding an awkward struggle best left untried should Quintresk want to keep a dignified, graceful appearance up.

In terms of color, Quintresk is nothing short of glamorous. A very dark, rich brown color is tinged with red, the latter shade deeper and more obvious along his highlights and fading to a brown that borderlines pure black on his undersides and the membrane of his wings. Meanwhile, his limbs, tail, and his nose brighten to a shade of brown that’s almost orange-red. Overlaying his entire body are faint stripes in the same orange-red tint that’s seen at the very tip of every appendage, lightening the overall color of Quintresk’s body when seen from afar. Up close, the striping is faintly visible, but it will prove impossible to trace each stripe to its end, for they wind around his body, fading in and out of sight, making irregular squiggles on occasion and twirling around other stripes – along with being faint enough to almost blend entirely into his body. All in all, Quintresk is definitely a uniquely-colored creature, a blend of dark and light shades of brown.

Personality— Quintresk is definitely a complex creature; there’s no doubting that he’s quite intelligent and observant, quick to spot details and small flickers of mood that others will undoubtedly overlook. And Quintresk thrives on details; he loves to analyze everything he possibly can and draw conclusions based on that. Very rarely will he rely on intuition, since he’s safer on solid fact, the tangible, instead of the emotions, but if he must, he will – but not before he has exhausted every other possible source. Mysteries will never exist around this brown, for they’ll be resolved almost before they emerge, from those that are actually significant to those that mean very little to anybody’s life and are simply used as ‘practice’ of sorts to this brown. Quintresk is also a very practical creature. Sentimental tidbits, he is not adverse to listening to, but (quiet though he undoubtedly is) this brown is not a sympathetic listener – though he is in no way emotionless, he has no use for emotions save for a pragmatic analysis of them – hardly what one wants ones’ deepest secrets and fears confided to.

Even so, Quintresk could be an undeniably charismatic creature if he wished to be. Intelligent, confident without being arrogant, and reliable, Quintresk could be a leader. He could potentially lead the Night Watch if he wanted to; he could do almost anything he wanted. However, Quintresk doesn’t want to, it seems. Though he’s aware that he’s intelligent and in no way does he doubt his capabilities, Quintresk is more of an eleventh-hour Samaritan – content to take the backseat and let the bronzes and queens, be they wher or dragon, lead without questioning them except to himself, unless something happens and spirals so out of control that he feels that he needs to intervene – at which point he will, and with grace and modesty enough to allow the “real” leaders to take the credit for his own genius. To say Quintresk is lazy, however, would be a lie – he’s not; indeed, he can be quite the energetic creature if he wishes to be, which includes winding around the entire Weyr in pursuit of what he wants to know, or trying to draw a smile out of His. Dignified though Quintresk presents himself usually – dignified, patient, somber – he has quite the playful side when it comes to His. Never should His be unhappy, after all, and Quintresk will often indulge in bouts of childishness, playfulness, that usually would be quite odd. For His only.

If everyone has a guilty pleasure, Quintresk’s are females. Though this brown will almost never flirt and will rarely demonstrate physical affection, Quintresk does like females – Chasing them, that is. Be it gold or green (though he’ll never go after anything but a wher; he knows his own limitations), Quintresk is fond of them. And he will Chase them, unless His specifically requests that he does not. Even when after females, Quintresk will never make an excessive amount of noise, being practically noiseless throughout the entire affair – and afterwards, he will never stay long to lavish attention on any female. Very direct, he can be, when he wants to be; this brown is less than interested in acquiring a permanent mate. His preferring female company is, too, apparent in the fact that he prefers His to be around females as opposed to males. Though he’ll never vocally protest – he’d never ask His to do anything that His does not want to do unless it’s absolutely necessary, after all – it’s clear in that he’s much more welcoming around human females, often going as far as to nudge them if His is particularly fond of them, while male humans will be simply watched.