Hatching of the Chinese Zodiac Clutch

[kysseh]

The humming started in the dead of night, right as Savitri had been about to assume she had just one more candlemark of sleep before it was time for another feeding. Motherhood suited her well, save for the lack of sleep. She was unsure if that was from the awakening every few hours or the lingering aches and pains from childbirth. Either way, Savitri was simply exhausted, though it didn’t stop her from waking up instantly at the enthusiasm and fear that radiated off her mindmate through their bond. That had been immediately followed by the humming from the firelizard perched on her headboard, an odd sound coming from a green flit who took great pains to be as loud and obnoxious as possible. Humming. Humming.

Did they have to pick now? Savitri asked rhetorically of Hepaticath, aware that the gold had gone from half-asleep to fully awake and fussing in the space of about two breaths. I had another candlemark to go. They can wait. she added a bit petulantly, stifling a yawn as she tried to ease her body out of bed without alerting her weyrmate. Poor Ka’rys. He probably needed twice as much sleep as she did, given how lightly he slept and how much she knew she was in and out of their bed at night. At times, she was disgruntled at his inability to breastfeed; at others, she felt only pity. The feelings were currently a mixture, even as she stifled a quiet inhale at the feeling of stone floor beneath her feet. Brrrrrr, she needed a rug. And a robe. And to get to the Hatching Grounds quickly.

The Hatching Grounds were already abuzz with drudges carrying in buckets of meat for the newly-hatched dragons, most of them half-asleep and keeping well against the far wall, opposite the hissing and fluttering queen. Hepaticath had alerted them without hesitation, not minding in the least having to boss them into compliance since Hers was still awakening. The queen was normally in quite the good temper, but the threat to her eggs and the injury to her beloved mate had her more than on edge. So protective was she that the first dragon to swoop into the grounds got a vicious snarl, a sound that was cut off halfway when Hepaticath recognized the dark little beast. Fine. Only Tanith, and she was staying up high. Tolerable. She could be there.

You have to let the candidates on the Sands, love. Savitri admonished her dragon, a sentiment which the queen did not share. She didn’t have to, really, did she? After a few moments, though, the wings retracted, and the queen settled further back from the clutch, soothed by the fact that Hers was on her way and wordlessly reassuring her that the eggs would be fine. The young dragons needed their mindmates, Savitri reasoned, and Hepaticath had to agree. But she didn’t like it.

The eggs hatch. Come to the Hatching Grounds. Leave your flitting, flying pets behind. was Hepaticath’s rather terse broadcast to the weyr. Savitri rolled her eyes but grudgingly admitted that it was more polite than she had expected from the nervous queen. Her first clutch, a threat to steal them… and she was actually going to let the candidates approach? A miracle, indeed.

Hepaticath was busily fussing at the sand around one of the eggs nearest to her as it shook, her humming increasing in volume as the egg gave another encouraging sort of wobble. Yes, it was time. Finally. Though the much-desired Rooster egg was quite still yet, her gaze flicked to it constantly. The intruders had wanted that one, had they not? Important, it was.

Rooster Egg -- Bronze Weith to Ramen/R'men
Ram Egg – Blue Lith to Lokath/L'ka
Tiger Egg – cracking open
Monkey Egg – Green Minth to Anusha
Ox Egg – Brown Chaoth to Merridan
Snake Egg – Green Baoth to Keliris/K'lir
Dog Egg – Blue Shith to Tahlor/T'lor
Pig Egg – Blue Futh to Mikail/M'kai
Horse Egg – Green Kunth to Mina
Rabbit Egg – Green Nuoth to Nephele
Rat Egg – Blue Ahth to Rusahre/R'ahre
Cat Egg – Gold Jingth to Meira
Dragon Egg – cracking open

((Savitri hasn’t arrived yet, seeing as she’s slow, but the hatching is going on without her. <3 Sorry I couldn’t have it up right at midnight, and I promise the other posts will be slightly more coherent. –is on medication at the moment-))

[glamourie]

POSTED AT EMBER'S REQUEST. She'll be back to edit before the hatching is over hopefully!

---

Nephele was awoken with a start, Charming and Misfit peering at her from their place on her chest. She gave them both a sleepy rub and attempted to go back to sleep. Curiously enough they wouldn't let her drift off again. With a groan she sat up, displacing the two flitters who both squawked their displeasure. "What is it you two want? Food?" Charming chittered and swooped up to pull at her hair. Nephele sighed and got up.

It was then that she realized something was up. They were both flashing her images of eggs. Eggs, eggs, eggs. When she asked why they wanted to eat eggs Charming chittered scoldlingly. He landed and started miming Hatching, albeit not so well. She grinned and gave him a quick pet. "You are a funny..." She blinked and looked between the both of them. "Eggs...hatching? The eggs are hatching!" The alarm in her voice was clear as she went to her trunk to find her candidates robe. Ah-ha, there was the blasted thing.

The now changed Nephele noticed other people now and tried to catch glimpses of their expressions. Were they as nervous as her? She shook her head as she waited for the candidatemaster to lead them to the hatching grounds. She already knew where it was but she figured it better to wait. With or without Emoyan she would head over soon so as not to miss anything.

She seemed to wait forever before she left the barracks in the company of other candidates. The trip to the hatching grounds seemed to take forever but it finally ended and she waited to be allowed on the sounds. When they finally let candidates in she winced at the heat from the sands. She'd be hopping foot to foot for a while...

Nephele looked up at the clutch mother and nearly froze in place. Not that this was her first time seeing the gold but...She was still intimidating. She mustered up something like courage and gave a little bow to the queen. Now to see how the Hatching would go.

((Hiya guys! Sorry I can't be here for the beginning and sorry to Kyss and Teddy if this post conflicts with anything. If it does just ignore everything but the basic fact that Nephele is there. I can fix this post when I get back. See ya when I get back~ <3))

[Rowana]

Merridan woke with a start as words echoed in her head. It was like hearing Ciceroth speak to her before, but this was clearly a different dragon. There was no mistaking. This was Hepaticath, and she didn't sound very patient. Mer couldn't blame her after what had happened. In moments, Mer was rolling out of bed and pulling on the candidate robe. Since this was her second time, at least she had a pretty good idea what to do. Auran blinked sleepily at her and flapped to his usually perch on her head.

"No, Auran," she told him. "You have to stay." Auran glared. He didn't see why. Hadn't he helped defend the clutch too? "Don't argue. Do you want to ruin my chances of impressing?" Auran didn't really care about dragons, but he would do as he was told. Grumpily, he slid off her shoulder and back to bed. Satisfied that he would not try to follow her, Mer turned to run out of the barracks to the Hatching Grounds.

Since the attack on the eggs, Mer had spent some time in the infirmary. But she was doing much better now, almost back to her full strength. Her ribs were mostly healed and only a bit sore. Running was harder than usual, but she wasn't going to let that slow her down. Mer skidded to the edge of the sands, breathless with the run and her wordless excitement. She bowed politely to Hepaticath. "Thanks for letting us be here. Best of luck to your children." She smiled and stepped slowly forward, stopping when she was still a ways from the egg. Hepaticath didn't look like she was in the best of moods and Mer did not want to press her.

[Avu]

“Salamandyrs aren’t supposed to drink klah.”
Is yuck. Not want.
“It’s not ‘yuck’, you little brat. Not everyone likes to eat raw meat, you know.”
Raw, Sylph not want. Cook, do want.

The green’s correction made Rusahre roll his eyes, and he shivered slightly despite himself, raising the mug to his lips to sip at the drink again. He’d come out to spend the rest of the night at the river – effectively breaking curfew by leaving the Barracks before the previous night had, technically, ended, but no lessons were scheduled for that day, so he doubted he’d be caught unless Emoyan decided to take a walk by the lake, and he hadn’t been caught. Yet. He’d woken up – or rather, could not sleep – and after another half-candlemark of rolling around, had just given up and left. The klah had been brought with him, and where it had once been warm, it was definitely cold by now. Sylph was lounging in his lap, and Rusahre set his back against one of the boulders (that efficiently hid him from view from the rest of the Weyr; he didn’t want to be seen by them) and licked the liquid from his lips, eyeing the cool depths of the River with some animosity. He’d very nicely been drenched earlier, and had not quite dried off yet – hence his being cold. It had been Sylph who made him slip; the green had been darting under his feet and he’d almost stepped on her; in an effort to avoid squashing the green Salamandyr into the mud of the riverbank, Rusahre had missed his footing and slipped, drenching himself waist-down into the river, landing on his rump and elbows. Awkward, and far from comfortable, even after he’d scrambled out.

“ – is that humming?”

The words broke out of him, soft despite the slight urgency in his tone, and the Candidate scrambled to his feet, staring in the direction of the Hatching Sands. “That is humming…Syl, the egg’s’re Hatching, aren’t they? Do you know? Dragons do…” Did Salamandyrs? Sylph stared back at him imperturbably. She didn’t like dragons; they were too like firelizards, apparently. Whatever – Hepaticath’s broadcast made him tilt his head curiously for a moment, and then he broke into a slow lope. Had it been his first Hatching, he would have up and bolted for the Candidate Barracks to change. As it was? His feet (bare; he hadn’t brought shoes with him) were slick and muddy, and he didn’t need to slip on the grass underfoot. And anyway, he didn’t really expect to Impress. But still…Sylph clung to the front of his shirt, frill half-flaring indignantly. He was her person, please and thanks; did she have to share him? Hmph. Annoying dragons; she didn’t see why people liked them – they were just overgrown flitters, weren’t they?

Still, she offered no protest (verbally, anyway) other than to frill defiantly as Rusahre slid into the Barracks, a task that was decidedly difficult given that the general directional flow was out, and set her down on his bed. “Be sweet” was offered to the green in a low murmur, and Rusa leaned down to flip through the trunk at the foot of his bed until he plucked out the white Candidates’ robes. His nose crinkled disgustedly as he eyed the plain fabric, and then, sighing, he pulled his shirt off and deftly pulled the white thing over his head before he discarded his pants and grabbed the sandals in one hand, glancing down at muddy feet for a moment. Hmm, hmm…would Hepaticath take offense? Would she care? And, come to that, would he care if she did take offense? Probably not. Now, if she threw him off…his ego certainly would have taken a blow, but he could live with that. And Rusahre had a feeling she’d be more upset were he late as opposed to merely not quite presentable. One hand pushed through his hair, and he dropped both sandals (why was it that he hated these so much? Possibly because he associated them with rejection) to push his feet into them before he glanced once more at Sylph before he made his way out of the door of the Barracks again, head bowing slightly to avoid the gaze of other Candidates; just because he wasn’t tripping over himself in delight didn’t mean he felt the need to ruin their mood, either.

Catching one of the last boats available with which to cross the River, Rusahre pushed off at a sedate pace. He was already wet; he didn’t want to upend the boat and send himself into the water, after all. Once a day was quite enough. And he didn’t like boats in particular; they seemed fond of making him uncomfortable, and a bloody good job they did, too. The first time he’d ever gone to sea, he’d been violently seasick, decidedly not a good way to spend a full sevenday, and during his first month at Selenitas, he’d managed to tip over his boat crossing the river not once, not twice, but thrice, a decidedly humiliating experience. Admittedly, he wasn’t the only one, but – Rusa was arrogant, and it was embarrassing to tumble into the water out of a tiny, stupid boat when he was usually graceful everywhere else. Fortunately, it was without incident that he pulled up to the dock on the other side, looping the rope around a post absently, checking the knot carefully. He had yet to loose a boat because of an incorrectly-tied knot, and he didn’t intend to do so.

This complete, Rusahre smoothed the front of his robes before he broke into a steady lope again; within minutes, he’d arrived at the Hatching Sands. Bowing his head slightly, hair falling forward in straight locks that obscured his side view and eyes, Rusahre slid into the Sands, surprised and rather amused to find himself still among the first to arrive, and moved to take his position in the half-formed semi-circle, well back; the Stands were no more than a dragonlength away and he almost wanted to just shuffle over there and put his back at a wall. His gaze rose slightly, flicking towards the Candidates already present, and then at the entrance, before – for the first time – they landed on the eggs, a passively curious look flickering across his face. Couldn’t they just get on with it and Hatch so he could get back to the River?

[Avu]

He’s asleep, Avia. I don’t know, should we wake him? What if he doesn’t want to be woken?

The only response Oquith received was a disapproving twitter from the green firelizard; Avia eyed Tr’esn indignantly a moment longer. Silly Hers! Didn’t he know that Hepaticath’s eggs were Hatching?! Silly silly, he had to get up. And if Oquith didn’t want to wake him, she would. Who’d answer her questions if he couldn’t, after all? The greenrider was sleeping. He hadn’t meant to be asleep where he was – he wasn’t even in his furs; Tr’esn was curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around him so tightly it looked as if he was wearing a cocoon. His lips were parted, eyes fluttering slightly beneath their lids, and curled up against his neck was Moth, the feline fast asleep as well. The greenrider had simply…fallen asleep. Moth had gone to sleep first, and he hadn’t wanted to move and disturb her, so he’d sat there. And…eventually, he’d just curled up and slept, too, leaving Avia, Dolphin, and Oquith rather bemused; why would he go to sleep on the couch? The whersport had left the weyr after that, presumably to the jungle; Oquith made no attempt to stop her. She was bonded to Tr’esn, after all, she’d come back. Avia, meanwhile, had badgered Oquith with questions until the green would stand it no longer and she’d retired to the weyrledge, covered her head with a wing, and went to sleep, too.

Unlike Tr’esn and Moth, however, she’d woken instantly when the Hatching hum began to vibrate through the weyr, the small green adding her voice to the song that thrummed and vibrated through the Weyr. Rolling to her feet, the green had glanced into the weyr, fully expecting Tr’esn to be awake and fully functional. He was still sleeping. Disappointment! Oquith eyed Hers warily even as Avia bounced forward and landed squarely on the tawny, curly head, squawking loudly enough to wake the dead in what was an undeniable wake-up call. Time to get up! No more sleeping! Eggs! They were Hatching! Eggs trumped all else! Quick, quick; up, up!

“Ughuhhnnn, Avia…”

Tr’esn swatted at the green, eyes still closed even as he accidentally dislodged Moth, who rolled over, yawning widely and exposing white canines and pink gums – a sight which always frightened Avia. The green fled back to Oquith, chattering about how upset she was to Hers. So scary, the feline was being! Didn’t he know the eggs were Hatching, why wouldn’t he wake up? Not her fault! Not her fault.

Mine? I’m very sorry the little one woke you up. I didn’t mean for her to, Oquith stated apologetically. The green crooned softly, her tail lashing from one side of the ‘ledge to the other. But – if you’re awake…Hepaticath’s clutch is Hatching. Mayn’t we go? Please, Mine? I want to see the hatchlings. Hatchlings are very nice, aren’t they? Most of them. I thought that Jaymith and Ebolath, for example, were very, very nice…and…and I’m afraid I haven’t met any other hatchlings, but I can now, if we go, can’t I? Couldn’t we, MineTr’esn? She did want to go, but of course she couldn’t go without Hers! That was simply too rude, and so inconsiderate. Unless he specifically said to, of course, but Tr’esn wouldn’t. He liked to be with her…wanted to make her happy. Didn’t he…? I would be very, very happy if you came with me, she added softly, just to make it clear. If he mistook her and sent her off on her own, it would be even worse than missing it! Everyone would have their Bondeds close during a Hatching. It was like a reminder of one’s own Hatching and Bonding; she and Tr’esn couldn’t possibly miss it! Never, ever. Dolphinsport went off somewhere. I expect she’ll be back. But we can’t take Avia anyway…stay, Avia. Stay…

“Okay. Um. Okay,” Tr’esn repeated, blinking sleepily and rubbing his eyes before he rolled off of the couch, scooping up Moth and replacing her once he was up. One hand smoothed his crumpled shirt, and then the greenrider sighed. He’d have to change, wouldn’t he…? Such a change was rapid, and he appeared on the weyrledge holding Oquith’s straps looking much neater than he had before. His hair had grown long enough to pull back into a runnertail, though the strands still hung in curling wisps around his face, brushing his eyebrows, cheekbones, and jaw; a clean white shirt, loose with green trimming (not quite Oquith’s color, but as close as he could get to that stunning emerald), and brown pants cut at the knee and hemmed. He wasn’t wearing shoes, but that was more for safety than anything else; nothing to ruin Hatching day like falling flat in front of everyone, or managing to land on top of some Holder or something. The dignity of dragonriders was not something that Tr’esn wanted to ruin, and he was nothing short of undignified in shoes. Oquith stood still for her straps to be put on, and as Tr’esn mounted, he gestured to Avia to stay behind, wincing sympathetically as the green’s eyes flushed with disappointment and she twisted away to glide back into the weyr even as Oquith took two fluid steps forward, wings unfurling and carrying her off the ‘ledge, and disappeared between.

A few minutes later, Tr’esn found himself crammed into a hard seat, the railing digging into his ribs, arm draped over the rail in question, one leg pressed against the uncomfortable railing as well. Oquith had found a better perch on the rim of the Stands with the other dragons; Tr’esn was not so lucky. Apparently the man standing next to him was strongly of the opinion that Tr’esn, being as small as he was, could stand to be made into part of the wall. Which he could not. “Ouch,” he whispered softly, not answering any of Avia’s excited mental questions (apparently her rejection had been forgotten), though he did reassure Oquith, who was extremely agitated at the idea of Hers being hurt – was it her fault, because she’d wanted to come?! Elbow to his ribs. “Ouch…” Well. At least this would prevent the heat of the Hatching Sands from making him drift off to sleep…

[Ruby]

The humming woke Mikail automatically, routine now after turns of Candidacy. He started getting out his robe without thinking, still half asleep and musing on his past. How many turns as a Candidate, now? If he had been standing since he was fourteen... six turns? A long time for anyone, certainly. With a slightly unhappy start, Mikail realized both that he was quickly nearing the age at which he would no longer be able to Stand, and also that he had a foot through the sleeve of his slightly wrinkled white robe. Apparently this wasn't so automatic after all. Only then fully awake, Mik removed his foot and resumed putting his robes on the right way, not looking even the slightest bit abashed. Who cared now, anyway? There were dragons hatching!

He scanned the bunks around him as he left, noticing that both Rusa and Cry's bunks were empty. Come to think of it, it had been quite some time since Mik had seen Cry, strange as that was. Of course, his brother occasionally had a habit of dissapearing on his own, and both of them had been incredibly busy since the attempted theft on the Sands, but it was still strange. Perhaps Crystoph had snuck out, or been headed back to the Barracks late? Mikail really had no idea what time it was, but he knew the glows were banked and the windows dark, meaning it must be late. Well, that also wasn't something to worry about now. Crystoph wanted a dragon as much as he did, and was perfectly capable of getting himself to the stands (although Mikail privately scoffed at the state his brother's robes would certainly be in.) Anyway, either or both would have been able to slip by totally unnoticed in this crowd- the Barracks suddenly seemed about three times as full as they were supposed to be, people rushing every direction. Mik decided not to worry.

So the redheaded Candidate trotted towards the sands, not in a hurry but also not keen to keep baby dragons waiting. What if one was meant for him, but betweened before he got there? He was pretty sure he couldn't take that. The Sands and Stands were still fairly empty when he got there, but he did spot Rusa, along with two girls he knew by sight but not by name. Striding comfortably over to the other male Candidate, Mikail offered Hepaticath a somewhat awkward but well-meant bow before waving to Rusa. Despite his general level of comfort, Mikail didn't exactly trust his voice at a moment like this, and didn't think that it was a good idea to emphasize the fact that this wasn't his first hatching, either. The ex-Benden candidate shifted, relieving the pressure and heat on his left foot, and took a look at the clutch.

Hepaticath didn't exactly impress him- he'd seen other Golds in his day, although she was a lovely specimen. Her clutch, however, did. Every egg was large, even the smallest ones, and there were at least three that looked to be Queen-sized. Many were colorful, and even the ones that weren't had a richness to them that he wasn't used to seeing. Impressive, certainly- he could see why the other Weyr's Riders (he privately suspected Fort) had wanted their share. Well, his own impression or no, it would be a lovely clutch, and Mikail was excited to see it hatch. He even forgot to scan for Crystoph.



Piden was having "lunch" in the Dining Hall, despite the fact that the only people there were a handful of night staff and a few stray Handlers and insomniacs. Pidesk was lolling in the shallows of the river upstream, waiting for his handler to be done eating, and Red was in her typical place under Piden's collar, three quarters of the way asleep. He swore he'd have a dent there eventually, despite her tiny frame. Piden was glad for her slumber, though- it meant that she wasn't eating, which also meant that she wasn't throwing up. Yet, at least.

It had been an enjoyable meal so far, and Piden was happily digging in to dinner leftovers when Pidesk prodded his mind rather sharply, sending images of shivering eggs. Piden knew that his Wher's voice was raised in a tenor hum like the rest of the draconic species of the Weyr, but Piden ignored it. Who cared if dragon babies were hatching now? He had Pidesk, and anyway, night time was the time for him to get things done, not hang around a hatching for no reason. He'd made up his mind weeks ago not to go- it simply didn't matter, and he didn't know any Candidates, or the Junior Weyrpair. So... why attend?

The reason, surprisingly, came in the form of Red. Poking her head out from her hiding spot, she sqwaked loudly, SEX BABIES! Sex babies! You, JUNIOR BITE! She was true to her word, scampering down Piden's arm while he was still trying to figure out what on Pern she was talking about, and took a large chunk out of his middle finger. Humming contentedly as Piden swore, she looked up at him expectantly.

"Don't worry, Red, I'm not going!" He gasped before sticking the injured finger in his mouth. The salamandyr frilled angrily at this, snapping at his other hand before shouting, SEX BITE SEX BITE! Junior Junior BITE! Startled, Piden peered down at her in confusion. "You want me to go?" he asked, keeping his flesh far away from her mouth in case that was not the conclusion she wanted. To his surprise, she made a purring noise before picking up the hum again, happily scampering off to (most probably) meet Pidesk.

Still trying to puzzle out her speech, Piden headed for the Sands. All he could figure was that Red thought the Junior Weyrpair wouldn't be happy if he didn't attend... that, or she knew she couldn't come, and wanted to see it anyway. Well, apparently it was her choice, because shortly thereafter, Piden found himself shuffled into seats he'd never sat in, wondering vaguely what life would have been like if he'd impressed a dragon, not Pidesk. He wasn't that thrilled with the idea.



Tenlie was fast asleep, and it took the half finished glass dragon she was working on for the Gather vibrating dangerously for her to wake up. Diving to save her work, she padded it out with clothes from her small wardrobe before trying to figure out what on Pern was making that ungodly racket. With a small "Oh!" of surprise, it dawned on her- the clutch on the sands was hatching! Throwing on a plain red robe over her pijamas (never stopping to think that a Hatching might be a formal event, even in the middle of the night), she pulled her hair half back and dashed for the Sands.

Shuffled into the Stands next to an auburn haired man about her own age with Wherhandler's knots, Tenlie surveyed the place, and the clutch. It was big, far bigger than she imagined, and hot even in the winter night chill. She was initially dismayed at her choice of attire, as it was obviously incorrect, but she got over it pretty quick. The Queen was huge, and didn't appear to be in a very good mood, but she also wasn't eating anyone yet. Thank Faranth Tenlie didn't have to be on the stands and face down something that large, hoping SHE wasn't eaten, or mauled! Tenlie was perfectly happy in the Stands, crammed though they were.

[Kisha-Ra]

Yoalla mumble something indistinct and pulled the covers further up her body, maybe with the blankets over her ears she’d be able to block out all that noise and carry on sleeping, honestly what kind of an idiot decided to hum so loudly in the middle of the night?

Yoalla might even have managed to sleep through the humming, she was used to sleeping through bordel business after all, and she certainly would have managed to slumber happily through everyone else getting out of bed and ready, that ability had gotten her into trouble more than once. However one thing she couldn’t sleep through was Hepaticath’s broadcast to thee Weyr. That had her obediently rolling out of her bunk before she’d made a conscious decision to do so.

With speed Yoalla stripped off her nightdress, quickly pulled on some underwear, and looked through her trunk for the white robe she was supposed to wear. At least she was neat so the robe was easily found, folded at the bottom of the trunk. Putting it on gave her the werid feeling that she was putting on another nightdress. Aside from shuffling her feet into the sandals she was also supposed to wear (they looked stupid but she supposed you couldn’t fight tradition) Yoalla decided no further preperation was needed, she’d washed before bed and had finally gotten the hang of braiding up her own hair so she thought she looked quite neat.

Yoalla joined the procession of white robed candidates and walked quickly to the hatching grounds envying those who could run in their sandals. She felt a flash of pride when she caught a glimpse of the eggs, though her actual part in defending them had been small. She shuffled forward, bowed clumsily to Hepaticath, who was even bigger than the first dragon Yoalla had seen with the eggs, and slipped past to take her place in the half form arrangement of candidates.

Yoalla amused herself trying to guess what would emerge for each egg, it was something to take her mind off the burning in the soles of her feet, She’d laugh if that egg the invaders had wanted so badly wasn’t a queen. In fact though there were three very large eggs none of them was pure gold, there might not even be a queen in this clutch. Wouldn’t that be ironic?

[ace]

A vibration travelled through the soles of Mina's shoes, and up her body. This could mean only one thing, which Mina recognized the significance of immediately. She had been lounging in the common room, munching on a meat role she had snagged from the kitchen a few minutes prior. As she felt and heard the humming that signaled the beginning of a hatching, she had taken a to big bite of the meat role she had in her hand, and proceeded to gag on it. Jumping to her feet and promptly spitting out the food, Mina muttered under her breath, “Shards and shells, this is it!” Scrambling quickly around her room, she opened her trunk and threw out everything in it until she reached the bottom, and found her neatly folded candidate robe. Pulling off her clothes, she quickly struggled into her robes, but not before realizing that the robes were inside out.

“No time, no time,” Mina muttered as she ran out the door, not bothering to fix her white robe as she flew out of the barracks yelling. “HATCHING HATCHING HATCHING,” not bothering to worry about who she was disturbing.

The candidate was panting and huffing by the time she reached the hatching sands. In the back of her mind, Mina decided to start running every morning when she got up; she needed to get back in shape. However, all of her thoughts were banished as she laid eyes on the beautiful eggs that lay on the hot sands. They seemed so serene and calm lying there, but soon they would begin to rock violently back and forth, until they cracked open, giving way to the small dragonets that were created to protect Pern. The dragons would live on as long as they found a suitable partner to bond themselves to.

Small movements that the eggs made, left small indentations in the sand, creating circular patterns around the various eggs. Mina's eyes were drawn to each of the eggs in turn, as the movements became more pronounced. The heat from the sands began to seep through the girl's thick hide boots, causing her to shift her weight back and forth as she waited for more candidates to arrive and for the eggs to start hatching.

~ ~ ~

Kevin had been lounging peacefully, when the sound of somebody yelling at the top of their lungs. Disoriented, the boy rolled out of his bed. “Wahh? What is it?” Standing up, he walked to the door to see what the commotion. As soon as he undid the latch, the distinctive yell of, “HATCHING” bombarded his ears. “Hatching? Oh shards, where is my candidate robe?”

After Kevin managed to don his white robe, he rushed outside. Another conundrum was presented to him. He had no idea where the hatching sands where. Running around outside, he joined up with a large group of weyrfolk, and simply followed them to the sands.

Slipping around them, Kevin nodded to the other candidate who was already there. Turning, he laid his gaze on the magnificent eggs for the first time. They were so impressive and beautiful! Now all he could do was wait.

[Sheari]

There were noises and voices as the Candidate Barracks came to life, if the dead of night. Anusha was in that state of halfway between dozing and mildly awake. Her eyes were closed and she was wrapped well in her furs against the chill if the night air, but she knew that things were going on around her.

Then she heard Hepaticath's broadcast.

She rolled with some skill from her top bunk and landed squarely on the floor. She tossed the fur that had wanted her to stay back up to the bed and pulled the white robe from the top of the trunk; she'd kept it there, prepared. The cloth slid over her head and arms with ease and she slipped her favourite pair of shoes on. Despite the wisdom that came with wearing the thicker-soled boots that stood at attention next to them, Anusha preferred the worn shoes that now had a piece of leather haphazardly stitched tightly to the toe of her right shoe.

Akos scrambled down to the shoulder of His and frilled slightly. "No, love, you must stay here. I will be back," she said to him, placing him on her pillow. He frilled fully now, flashing her an image of a rather disgruntled and vicious-looking Hepaticath. With some effort, Anusha pushed it from her mind and tied a little ribbon to his tail before leaving the barracks.

As she approached the entrance to the grounds the image Akos had sent to her came back to her mind. When she looked, the queen dragon didn't look anything like the monster her 'mandyr feared would eat her. She bowed and said a greeting before joining the other candidates that had arrived in the half-circle that was forming around the eggs. She watched them intently, trying to figure out which one held a gold, if there was any, and wondering if the first to hatch would be a bronze; as superstition held that heralded good luck for the Weyr.

~*~

Ramen awoke with a mild start. As of late his sleeping habits had been erratic in anticipation for the upcoming Hatching. The eggs had been getting harder and harder and the dragonets withheld inside the eggs would be breaking shell. The man rolled over in his furs in a feeble attempt to sleep. As he began dozing off, Hepaticath's announcement reached his mind. The ability to think it odd for a voice to be in his head was not his as he was suddenly fully awake and fully aware. He practically leaped from his bottom bunk to the floor, and began digging through the trunk at the foot of the bed.

He found the robes he wanted and gave them a look of distaste as he pulled them over his head. They were little more than cloth that had been folded in half and sewn to leave armholes and a hole cut for the head. They didn't need to be fancy, or even of a casual wear since they would be ruined before the day was out, anyway. Pulling on a pair of boots as his shield against the heat of the Sands, Ramen began heading for the Hatching Ground where he would either find a mindmate and change his life or be rejected.

Upon his arrival he stood in the entrance and bowed deeply in an earnest way and hollered to Hepaticath, "Good Evening, Beautiful!"

If she decided to eat him at least he'd complimented her first.

[kat]

Tahlor was in the corridor flirting with a lower caverns girl, when all of a sudden there was this voice in his head. He'd been leaning on one foot, rather precariously balanced. So when it came, he lost his balance, startled as could be, and fell over. "Shardit, what in Faranth's name was that?" He frowned, standing up and rubbing his offended area before glancing off down the corridor. Faranth? Then it hit him, as soon as he heard a humming sound coming from a firelizard who was darting on past. The eggs were hatching? Not without him! "Sorry, luv, I gotta' go!" He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then raced back into the boy's barracks where he quickly undressed and then redressed into the candidate's robes. "Man, they have no sense of style!" he commented, before taking off at a quick jog in the directions of the sands...

He reached them, all right. Others had gotten there first, and he immediately recognized Mina amongst them, so he strode on over casually. "Hey there, Mina. Looks like yeh' beat me here," he commented, grinning, and then asked, "yeh nervous?" He wasn't, he was so excited for this experience he was eying the eggs hopefully. Finally, he could check off 'standing for a dragon' on his list of 'things to do'. Yes, he had a list, if only mentally. Now, 'Impress a dragon'? Wasn't on there. Still, he was kind of hoping it might be. The idea of flying enthralled him, held an allure for him that he couldn't quite let go of. Only on dragon wings could men--or women--fly. With that in mind, he really, really hoped he could Impress at some point. Flying would make it all worth it.

~~~~~~

Maya heard someone running down the hall, yelling out 'Hatching!' as her feet thudded against the ground. Well, here it was, what she'd been waiting for since she'd arrived here at Selenitas. She was nervous, the butterflies in her stomach told her that. She'd never stood before, and this would be a new experience. Mostly? She was nervous over whether she'd Impress or not today. She guessed that just about everyone was, since not everyone got to Impress. The clutch on the sands only counted thirteen eggs. Thirteen people would Impress today, and the rest would be left standing. Would she be amongst those that Impressed, or would she find herself standing, to be a candidate until next time, or even the time after that? She wasn't sure, but as she slipped into her candidate robes, she realized that no one else was sure, either. She would just have to be patient and see.

She entered the sands, looking around her and realizing she didn't really know anyone there. Some were already addressing one another, while others were standing and looking eagerly at the eggs. She, too, looked towards the eggs. Each of those eggs contained a dragon. Each dragon knew whom it wanted to choose, whom it would spend the rest of its life with. She felt the butterflies again, and tried to distract herself by looking over at the other candidates. They looked hopeful--did she look that way too? She smiled softly and wished them luck, even as she wished herself a little of that luck, too. Usually she'd go up to someone and say hi, but maybe this wasn't the best place for that. Especially when she noted one of the eggs was decidedly shaking. She searched the faces of the other candidates, and wondered if they mirrored her own. There was one boy there who was simply grinning as he addressed another girl. He didn't seem in the least nervous, but perhaps appearances were deceiving? Well, in either case, she was standing nearest to another girl. She didn't recognize Merridan, but she was so near to her that she decided to at least say something.

"Hey there," she began, and then, "I'm Maya--good luck today." There, that was something. She knew about maulings, and that they could happen. She hoped no one today would be mauled by a dragonet trying to get to its bonded. She was prepared to get out of the way, and fast, if it looked like a dragonet was racing for her in a manner that said it wasn't going for her, but someone else. Never would it hurt to act fast in a situation where you might end up being hurt. She was prepared to help out anyone who got mauled, as well. She might have been a dragonhealer, but there were basics that applied to people, too. She hoped she wouldn't have to use them, though. Maulings were never pretty, from what she'd been told.

[Avu]

The babies are coming! R'wignmine, Meiramine, the babies are coming! Wake up, wake up, so we can goooo. I want to see the babies!

“Nnff,” Meira protested; for a moment, she was not aware for what she had been woken up for, only that she had been and she was so tired. She’d ended up sleeping in the bed that night, as well as half the previous night; now that the baby had started to actually move, it felt…weird to sleep on the ground. Bad, even, like – like sleeping next to Checkoth could, somehow, hurt the baby? Whatever; it did feel strange, so she’d ended up curling into the furs which had remained empty except for Monster for quite awhile. Not that her being there had in any way dissuaded the feline; he was still sprawled at her feet, purring happily until he’d fallen asleep, and Meira, not having wanted to disturb him, had gone to sleep curled into a ball to prevent her feet from touching Monster and accidentally kicking him. However, she’d forgotten both where she was and where Monster was when Checkoth’s call woke her, and for a moment, she froze, her eyes flickering open, before she remembered and sighed, rolling onto her back and pushing herself into a sitting position, and stretching out her feet –

Only to hit Monster.

The feline mrowled a sleepy protest, and Meira instantly reached out to stroke him, apologizing in a whisper as not to wake any of the others. Not that her being quiet was, strictly speaking, necessary. The weyr seemed alive with the sound of humming, the thrumming almost a vibration that ran through the floor and walls of the stone weyr, issuing from what seemed to be every single one of R’wign’s firelizards, Checkoth, and most, if not all, of the dragons outside as well. The babies, Checkoth had said. The babies – the Hatching. Hepaticath’s, Savitri’s – well. She rubbed her eyes, and then blinked at Checkoth with a slight sigh. They had to choose the most inconvenient time ever to Hatch, didn’t they? What time was it…? Regardless of time, however, she did roll out of the bed, moving as quickly as she could in the dark and her still sleep-muddled state to the trunk that her clothes were in. She couldn’t quite see what she was picking out, but it still didn’t take too long before she’d found suitable clothes. Normally, she’d wear one of R’wign’s shirts to accommodate for pregnancy, but – the Hatching was special, and even though her pregnancy would definitely show, she couldn’t attend Hatching wearing R’wign’s clothes; that was just too informal.

A rather embarrassing struggle later (which fortunately nobody was there to watch, seeing as she changed in the bathing rooms), Meira examined her own clothing. The shirt was uncomfortably tight around her stomach, but…that was okay; it was pretty obvious she was pregnant no matter what she was wearing by this point; the only reason she could even fit into the shirt at this point was because her clothing had generally been on the loose side anyway. She’d…definitely have to talk to the Headwoman at some point about maternity clothes. White pants, blue shirt: It would do. She certainly wasn’t going to wiggle out of the shirt again and replace it with another one.

She blinked sleepily, trying to wake herself up, as she shuffled over to Checkoth on the weyrledge before swiveling around to see how quickly R’wign had managed to prepare. He seemed more or less ready, though when she was still sleepy, Meira didn’t really trust her own judgment too much; too easy to overlook obvious things. Leaning against Checkoth, Meira turned her face to press it against the brown’s hide, blinking again as she said softly, “Mm…’m ready.” She almost wanted to ask if Checkoth was sure they were Hatching, because – because, well, it was so late. Wher eggs, she expected to Hatch at night (she managed to ignore the flicker of pain at the thought), but dragon eggs…? They had a habit of Hatching at all the wrong times, to be sure, but in the dead of the night was a new one. Stifling another yawn, Meira glanced back at R’wign, passing one hand over her face wearily again.

Was it wrong that she kind of just wanted to curl up and go back to sleep…?

[Avu]

Are you awake?
No. Go away.
Sorry. Just wondering.
Well, I’m not. So shush. I’m sleeping.
Well, I guess you don’t get to know, then…

The oh-so-intelligent conversation between bronze and Rider dwindled, and for a moment, there was silence. Corinth was curled around Ebolath, both of them awake, adding their voices to the soft lilting hum that vibrated throughout the entire Weyr, but neither of Theirs seemed to be aware of the impending Hatching. Corinth had asked Ebolath not to wake Hers, actually, because to do so would have been to frustrate T’rid immensely – he’d finally convinced Raylin to sleep more often and fret less often, because “I do enough fretting for both of us.” Because, yes, that was simply the most splendid reasoning ever. But she was asleep, and that was good enough for him. If only she’d stay that way, Shardit. Maybe he was just lazy, but when she consistently woke before he did, and seemed to be tired (could be because of the pregnancy, but that was okay) – it frustrated him. But Corinth had no reason not to wake His up; why would he? T’rid should go to the Hatching, after all. They were Wingleaders. Doubtlessly Ebolath and Hers would want to see the Hatching, too. He could pass on the images to Ebolath if she wanted, so that she could show Raylin without the greenrider tumbling all over the burning-hot Sands.

After a moment, T’rid raised his head from the pillow, eyeing Corinth suspiciously. “Know what, exactly…?” Okay, so he was curious. Not his fault; did Corinth have to be so cryptic…?

Well. If you were awake – which you aren’t, but just saying, if you /were/…I’d tell you that Hepaticath’s clutch is Hatching. I’d tell you we need to go, because we’re Wingleaders. I might also warn you that I’m about to pick you up by the back of your pants, make you squeal, and wake Ebolath’s up if you don’t hurry up, get dressed, and cooperate. You don’t want to wake up Ebolath’s, do you, Mine?

“For the love of little green dragons, Corinth,” came the exasperated reply, “I don’t want to go to a Hatching!”

The bronze’s head swung around, and T’rid managed to stifle the squawk of protest as teeth closed around the leg of his pants and tugged. Forcefully. The bronzerider hit the ground, slipping out of the furs and taking his pillow with him and Corinth left him there, nuzzling him cheerfully. You did not squeal. I am very proud of you, Mine. Throwing the bronze a decidedly poisonous glare, T’rid rolled to his feet, and then sighed. “Fine. Okay. Let’s go,” he grumbled, picking through the trunk until he could pull a shirt on over his pants, and change them into something a bit more formal. “Can I at least bring Conspiracy?” he added petulantly. “If I have to sit through that mess, at least I should have someone adoring me, and you certainly won’t. I like Conspiracy.” The brown flitter in question was fast asleep, cuddled against the crook of Raylin’s neck, but at the mention of his name, both Corinth and T’rid looked over at him before they glanced back at each other. Hepaticath does not want the little cousins or the little worms nearby, Corinth answered, and then dipped his shoulder invitingly, stepping away from Ebolath. Come on, up. Quickly, I don’t want to miss the Hatching…

Ebolath, ‘lathmine – Mine and I are going to the Hatching, the bronze added, nuzzling the green. I will send you the images if you’d like to stay with Yours in case she wakes up and wants to come, but if not, join us?

T’rid practically crawled onto Corinth’s back and promptly flopped backwards in an impressive show of laziness, yawning. “They just choose the worse times to Hatch, don’t they?” he commented dryly. “Wouldn’t have been surprised if one of the eggs decided to Hatch and Impress while those stupid people decided to invade the Sands, just to be difficuuuuaaaaah…” His words were snatched by the wind and distorted by a decidedly undignified screech as Corinth dropped off of the weyrledge, twisted, and rose upwards so rapidly that T’rid’s stomach seemed to fly up and then bounce right back down again; he choked in annoyance, and then blinked tears out of his eyes as the wind whipped by him, stinging, and then…just as he shivered, the warmth of the Hatching Sands burned his skin, and Corinth swept in the dragon entrance before winging upwards to deposit His in the Stands before taking his place among the dragons on the Rim of the Sands, looking down on the Hatching; his soft melodious croon was added to the humming of the gathered dragons, both eyes whirling rapidly in multi-faceted shades of excitement.

Have you a good seat?

T’rid glanced around, and then flopped into one of the chairs at the very front of the Stands before he smirked. Yes. Can I go to sleep now? I’m /here/…

You sleep and I’ll ask Hepaticath to eat you. Not that he would, and not that Corinth actually thought Hepaticath would eat T’ridHis, but…the threat got his point across well enough, didn’t it?

[Rowana]

Ruskeath winged over the sands, delighting in the presence of so many of his kin. Hatchings were such a joy to witness and brought back happy memories for many riders. I see Corinth and His. Ruskeath dipped his wings in greeting to the bronze. G'tor glanced over and chuckled. "Well doesn't T'rid look happy. Better drop me off there. Someone has to keep Wingleader from spoiling everything." Ruskeath obliged before flying up to take a place next to Corinth. Fair skies, Corinth, he rumbled pleasantly. It is a fine night for new weyrlings.

G'tor leaned forward in his seat to get a better look at the oncoming candidates. "What do you think?" he asked, in an effort to inspire T'rid to conversation. "Will we have a new queen? I've heard the rumors."

~

Hatching, Farryl-mine! Wake up! We must go see Hepaticath's little dragons! Peppeth bounced with excitement, eliciting a grown from her barely awake rider. "It's the middle of the night Peppeth," she complained. "Let me sleep. You got to see Millieth's hatching." But Farryl-mine the tiny green whined. They will be little dragons. Smaller than Peppeth! We have to see! Farryl shook her head with amusement. "Alright, alright. I'm up." She pulled on some clothes and climb onto Peppeth's back.

Peppeth dropped Farryl off in the stands and flew up to her place, doing a few twirls on the way to relieve energy.

~

T'ke groaned aloud. Why was he even here? Shards! It was the middle of the night for Faranth's sake! "Garaeth," he started for the hundreth time. No complaining, T'ke. the blue scolded. We are going. T'ke sighed. There really was no arguing with his dragon tonight. Garaeth was far too happy to listen to a word he said. "If I faint because someone gets mauled, I'm blaming you." He glanced at the slowly filling sands, looking for someone he at least knew to sit with. He recognized one of the brownriders and had Garaeth drop him next to him before going up with the other dragons.

"Hey, C'ryl," he greeted moodily. "You got dragged out of bed too, huh?"

[glamourie]

“I’m going to be late. I’m going to be late. Sprite - Sprite - have you seen my --”

Bed, bed. Under bed, Anzloveminelove. Silly Anzlovemine. White not Anzlovemine. To prove her point, Sprite scurried from her position, perched precariously on the top bunk of the Candidate barracks, and she flung herself forward and onto the railing. She didn’t frill, as many salamandyrs would, but she did scurry down onto the bottom bunk and sit right on top of the crumpled up candidate robes that Anzalorin had flung there at some point in time, beneath half of his mass of fabric that he collected to make his vibrant clothing. Against the white robes, her electric green-yellow hide stood out horribly. She stood on her hindlegs in a classic meerkat pose and looked up at Anz as he turned his gaze to her, before offering a quiet series of chittering chirps that could only be described as adoring. When he moved, she leapt off the robe, clinging to one of the wooden posts with her left front leg stretched out toward him. The disdain she held for the color white was obvious in her posture. Hers wore pretty colors; why was he resigning himself to something so unworthy of him? It made no sense, and she did not approve at all. Why couldn’t the forced-outfit be pretty, like Hers always wore…? No like white Anzlovemine. Pretty else. Pretty else. Eggs? E before G, before G…

Flashing the salamandyr a bemused look, Anzalorin reached up to stroke his finger down her back. “I don’t like wearing white any more than you like seeing me in it, to be honest,” the boy said with a slight nod, before grabbing the white fabric. Even though he knew the hatching sands would be smolderingly hot, he couldn’t help yanking the fabric up and over his head, over the bright blue pants he wore. The reason was simple: He’d been told that the hatching sands were scalding, to the point of burning. He wasn’t of the opinion that burning himself to cinders was a good idea, so simply put, he wanted to layer up. Sweating would be worth it if it kept him from being burnt horribly by the end of the hatching. “But that’s what the rules say, and I’ve already broken enough of them by Impressing you.” He cast a wink toward Sprite, and then did a little twirl for her, obviously showing off. “What do you think, Sprite? Do I look good? Do you think any dragon would want me?”

Anzlovemine want, want. Lovelove. Best. Silly winged see, Sprite said as she scurried back to the top of the post for his bunk. Spriteling no can come?

“She did say leave behind the flittery ones. I think salamandyrs qualify. I’m sorry, gorgeous. You know I hate to leave you alone. You’ll be hoping for me, right?” At Sprite’s chirp, Anz brushed his hands down the top of his robe, smoothing it out. His hair was sticking up. Considering he’d just woken up, it was understandable. He’d literally rolled out of his bunk, hit the ground audibly, and started getting dressed. The one perk of falling: He definitely was wide awake from thumping his head on the ground. Peachy. “Stay put. Guard my stash. I’ll come back for you, I will.” He smiled as Sprite looked at him before diving into the furs of the top bunk, and then he brushed his hair from his face. “Oh, don’t be that way. I’ll love you no matter what --”

Latelate, mine is. Go, love mine. Go get flyer. Bring back flyer. Sprite will love.

Though he was sure that she was agitated at being left behind (and Anzalorin did not blame her; she was his best friend, officially, and leaving her was hard), Sprite gave no indication, and he felt certain that she meant what she said. If he Impressed, Sprite would love it unconditionally. And that thought was all the encouragement that he needed.

Out of the candidate barracks he barreled, heading off to one of the first boats to leave. The entire trip across the river was much too slow for the enthusiastic teenager, and when they docked, he ran off ahead of the other occupants of the boat. Despite the dark of night, he found his way to the hatching sands quickly enough and he came to an abrupt, skidded stop outside. Panting and finger-brushing his hair, he glanced up wearily at the entrance. What if Hepaticath refused them entrance because of the attempted egg theft? Even though they obviously hadn’t done it, he wouldn’t have blamed her. The thought made him nervous, and as he stepped onto the Sands, his stomach plummeted. Oh Faranth, she was huge. Biggest dragon he’d ever seen. Resisting the urge to twitch in anxiety, the blond boy offered the queen a low bow, before actually skittering (there was no other word for it) to Rusa’s side. He didn’t speak, though. He was too busy trying to edge behind the other candidate nervously. Human shield…

[kat]

Tal might not have been standing for this clutch--or any dragon clutches, for that matter--but he'd never missed a single Weyr hatching at Selenitas, and he wasn't about to start. The fact that he'd lived here all sixteen Turns of his life and yet had never Impressed a single thing didn't really occur to him until a couple of days ago. It didn't really bother him, because he'd never been in just the right place at the right time. However, he found himself itching for a wher clutch to be hatched. That, at least, he'd be standing for! It was nice enough being the spectator, but part of him really wished he were down there, with the other candidates, on the sands. He'd chosen a really good spot, he had a clear view of everything and everyone down below. He could make out Mina and Tahlor, two candidates he knew, and recognized some of the others from around the Weyr. He wished them luck, really. There were only thirteen eggs on the sands and not everyone was going to walk away with a dragon today. Still, he knew that didn't mean much. He'd seen people stand a few times and then Impress. They took it hard, sometimes, when they didn't. However, they also probably didn't think that they had many more chances at it up ahead of them. Usually, they just thought about the immediate rejection. Not that it was really like that, though. It just meant that their dragon wasn't amongst the ones there. He recalled M'ta and R'wign, two who'd been left standing and then Impressed at later clutches. It happened, and more often than people thought.

He settled himself down to watch, leaning forward to see everyone better. There were definitely a lot more than thirteen people on those sands. He couldn't really fairly guess whom would Impress what. However, rumor had it that one of those eggs was a gold. That should be interesting. Girls always clamored over the gold, though he wasn't sure why. Responsibility came with a gold, and a lot of it. He doubted many girls thought of that when they wanted one. Probably they just wanted the rank that came with it. Still, the dragons always knew, so far as he could tell. Thinking over Savitri and Hepaticath, he figured it was true. Still, Shmee had been a terror...Kaegan was a transfer and she was all right, he supposed. He'd not had much interaction with their Sr. Weyrwoman. He'd seen more of Savitri, as she was closer to him in age, than Kaegan. No matter, apparently Kaegan was doing an all right job, or he was sure he'd have heard the complaints. There were some, but not about that. More about where she was originally from, which didn't bother Tal in the least. As long as she was loyal to Selenitas now, who cared where she came from?

He watched the eggs and tried to speculate what was in each. Sometimes they really surprised you. A smaller egg could hatch out a brown, or a larger one a blue. You never really knew until they hatched. They said the gold was largest, but there were a few there that were roughly the same size, and it really was hard to tell. So, he watched and waited, feeling that old excitement building up as always. Who would Impress today, and to what? You just never knew...

~~~~~~

Ari had been ushered out of the girl's candidate barracks by some random girl who'd encouraged her to go and watch the hatching. There would be so many people there, though, and large groups made Ari rather nervous. She had ambled down the corridors, though, half wondering at every moment if she should just go back. However, she did want to see it. She'd seen other ones, but not very often, because she'd been a drudge, working in the kitchens to prepare the hatching feast. Now, she was a candidate. All the other candidates would be going, so maybe she should, too? Well, she was almost there, in either case. No turning back now.

As she found a spot on the stands, she frowned, looking around for a familiar face. She recognized many people, but didn't really know anyone. There were several girls down there from the barracks, but she hadn't really associated with many of them, either. Anusha, was that the girl down there she'd met in the barracks? It looked like the case. Was there really a gold dragon down there, on the sands? Would Anusha get it? She didn't know anything about how golds or greens or whatever they were picked people. Totally ignorant, she felt, in that respect. Still, she watched quietly, looking about her a little to see how many people were filing into the stands. Her stomach turned a little as she realized just how many were...tons. Practically the whole Weyr was showing up, and it made her feel like hiding under a pillow. Well, she couldn't do that. So she might as well stop thinking about it and watch what was going on down there. Sooner or later, something would happen, a dragon would hatch. No one would be paying attention to her, of all things, so she forced herself to just ignore all the people, and watch...