Hatching of the Tidal Seas Clutch

[glamourie]

The first egg moved and Rawign glanced over his shoulder, back at the wall. Truthfully, he felt trapped with the wall right there. Why couldn't they stand further on the Sands? They'd always been allowed to before. He squinted slightly at the sound of eggs cracking and cast a weary look in the general direction of the eggs before stepping away from the wall - but not in the direction of the clutch. Instead he filed amidst the candidates, walking in front of a few people before coming to stand right next to Mutasim. He'd meant his threat of spending the entire clutch hanging on the other candidate, metaphorically speaking (he wasn't a touch-feely individual, after all). That and the more the eggs moved and the more sound they made, the more uncomfortable he was rapidly growing and he could feel his own heartbeat racing. A big part of him secretly longed to climb up into the Stands and hide, except that there was virtually no way to do that without offending Millieth, possibly Kaegan, and making a blatant fool of himself. Most of the amusement he felt at the word 'tomfoolery' was completely fading at the sound of eggs breaking...

"I'm staying near you," Rawign repeated, idling close enough to Mutasim for his own comfort. His smell probably would make the people nearest to him want to hit him but he hadn't exactly had time to wash the mess off of his skin. There were worse scents; he didn't smell like dung or boiling numbweed. He just... smelled distinctly medical. "Staying near you is safe. Considering we're both complete failures, it's likely that none will come near either of us. You know... sense the failure aura... like wooooo." He made a vague hand motion around himself as though to explain some kind of 'aura' surrounding him that would chase away any dragons. Not that he exactly wanted to chase them away but he'd come to the conclusion that if he was going to anyway, he might as well not be alone in his efforts. That and Mutasim was truly one of the other people on the Sands he knew at all. Depressing really.

Another crack and Rawign turned around just in time to see the Rip Curl Egg shatter to spill out a green. She was a strange color and he couldn't help but cock his head to the side slightly, though he didn't say anything. Why was she just sitting there though? Half-glancing at Mutasim, he stepped back to lean his shoulders against the wall, his arms folding over his chest as he watched the silvery-green hatchling turn to look at one of the other eggs. Not that he could make anything out from his distance, and he was mildly curious to know why she was bothering, but -- most of his attention, unfortunately, was on Mutasim as much as it was on the hatching. Millieth's presence made him nervous, too. As much as the gold was the nicest of the ones he'd met, he was still very unnerved. He did not particularly fancy the idea of his entire body ending up in tatters underneath dragon claws.

Glancing at the door, he twitched slightly. Was it possible he could sneak out amidst the hatching chaos? His mind mentally weighed the options. There was F'rah, which was problematic, but he might have been able to convince the Weyrlingmaster to let him out if he insisted he'd burnt himself or something. Maybe. In his experience, F'rah was generally more easy going than most. At least, he hadn't seemed offended when Rawign ran head-on into his weyrmate. That made him a decent guy. Hmm...

[wirevix]

Kariel was shaking a little as the sound of an egg cracking distracted the general chattering of the candidates. He found his gaze fixed on the dragon that emerged from her shell, still all wet and glittery. He really did not know what to think, not at all, at finally seeing a dragon hatch. He couldn't seem to think anything, beyond a humming sense of anticipation that was unlike anything he had ever really experienced.

He was still trembling slightly, still afraid. But he wouldn't bolt. He knew now for certain that he was rooted to the spot by some sort of fascination. He had to see it through to the end now, there was simply no other choice about it. And maybe... just maybe... he wouldn't leave this place alone.

But he still really doubted it. What dragon would want such a shrimpy little scaredy-feline like him? There were plenty of better choices all around him, candidates who could actually fulfill their roles without trembling or feeling faint.



Trulurve had to restrain an urge to spring up and clap at the sight of the first egg hatching. Instead he just gave a gleeful gasp, peering down intently at the little metallic green. She was just too adorable, such a precious little dragonet no matter whose she was. Aw, and so sleepy too, it must be a real trial to get through those egg shells--they were meant to be tough and protective, after all!

He followed her gaze to the other egg and jittered in excitement. The only egg that he had not dared approach during the Touching, the one that had been so sheltered by the Queen when the candidates had come down to the Sands. He wondered what would hatch from that precious egg, grinning ear to ear, so terribly, terribly excited.

[reqqy]

Muta was visibly twitching. Visibly. He wanted to bolt so terribly bad, exposed as he was against this wall, with so many other people he didn't want to have anything to do with all around. It occurred to him that he should have come armed with at least one blade...not because he thought he'd need it, but so he wouldn't be such a twitching bundle of nerves. Too late now. Between the growing pit in his stomach as one of the eggs began to move and the humming escalated in pitch, and the unshakeable feeling that very, very soon, their open position against the wall was going to be attacked - he wasn't sure why they were being led to slaughter, and some part of him realized he was being ridiculous, but that did nothing to alleviate the feeling - Mutasim had lost most of the color in his face and shrunk back.

That ridiculously strong infirmary stench drew him out of it a little, but it did nothing for his color. The candidate felt vaguely ill. He straightened, leveling his best glare at the healer, but he already knew that wasn't going to work. A sizeable part of the young man didn't want it to. Rawign was perhaps one of the few here he could tolerate, and just having him standing nearby helped the nervous twitching somewhat. He couldn't be sure if it was because he was determined not to show weakness, or if Rawign's presence was actually comforting, but why question a good thing?

Still, he wouldn't be himself if he didn't protest.

Staring rather blankly upward - always upward! - he forced himself to listen to Rawign's words, only casting occasional glances outward to make sure everything was still...safe... Mutasim blinked. What the-? Before he could say anything, though, the Rip Curl Egg hatched, causing him to jump slightly. He stared at the green for the longest moment, not even noticing that his fingers were curling and uncurling reflexively. Then she just...lay there. He couldn't really blame her, truly. If he'd been a dragon and was presented with such a selection, he'd probably go into a depression, too. That thought brought the slightest of wry smiles to his lips.

Having regained some of his composure, he turned his attention to the healer leaning against the wall beside him, then stepped out from it a couple paces. Ah. Much better. Just having an actual option as to where to move in a hurry if that became necessary made Mutasim rest so much easier. Shardblast the massive weyrlingmaster and his crazy ideas. "Why don't you just go 'woo' somewhere else?" Muta grated to Rawign, more out of force of habit than any true desire to see him gone. He didn't like the idea of a second shadow at all, but it could have been worse. It could have been Cloar. "Preferably somewhere downwind, where I don't have to smell you. Shells, did you think it wouldn't be enough to drive them away simply being yourself? Had to go roll around in...in...in whatever that is?" Well, he'd been going good until he couldn't identify the smell.

It was an infirmary smell, yes, but rolling around in the infirmary just didn't have the same ring to it.

[neeuqtar]

Shards! Getting down to the Hatching Grounds from the top of the Drumtower was far too long a distance to get in a short time. The WeyrDrummer skidded down the path, stupid Candidate's robe under one arm. She paused outside the entrance and wiggled into it, before slipping onto the Sands to stand near the edge. Slowly she started working herself in, so that she could at least see all of the eggs. The Rip Curl Egg had already broken open, revealing a lovely silvery dragonet who appeared to be resting. Vashti felt a smile tugging at her lips and instantly wiped it away. She was here as a formality, nothing else.

((sorry for craptastic short, I just wanted to get her in x.o))

[ladybug]

Alifyr had just gotten into his warm, toasty pajamas and was about to crawl under the blankets when a screeching fire lizard flew through the barracks. He let out a little cry of surprise and fright and put his hands over his head, hoping he didn't get divebombed by the excited flitter. He had been in the Weyr for a while now, but he still wasn't used to the flitts. But the screeching was accompanied by images of rocking eggs, and he soon realized what this display meant. The Hatching!

Wondering if the eggs had purposely picked an inconvenient time, he hurriedly shucked off his pajamas and changed into the white robe. He followed the other candidates out of the barracks into the dusky night. About halfway across the weyrbowl, reality set in and he was hit by a wave of nervous nauseau which considerably slowed his progress and made him a little late.

As he walked onto the sands, he could see that one egg had hatched already. Blushing, he ran to join the candidates, irritated with himself for his tardiness. However, his annoyance vanished when he saw the lovely green dragonet resting on the sands. It wasn't quite what he had expected from a baby dragon. She was a little smaller than he had imagined, and rather gawky looking. Still, it was impressive. He stared at the green, only occasionally glancing at the other rocking eggs.

[felina]

Niera settled farther back into the water, breathing in deeply and loving how the steam seemed to wash through her entire body, cleaning her inside and out. Most people liked to use the bathing pools in the morning, but she'd always been one to go to sleep clean and wake up with hair that wasn't sopping wet, especially when its rather considerable length was taken into account. There was nothing more relaxing than being warm and dry save for her hair, wrapped in sleeping furs and looking forward to the next day. So when something outside started screeching and sending out panicked mind-messages, Niera was only annoyed that she had been interrupted and slid down until her head was underwater. Not that it managed to block out the frantic images of eggs and the junior weyrwoman running around like a headless wherry. Why were her thoughts being invaded by something that had an intelligence approximately equal to a trundlebugs? She was comfortable, thank you very much.

Then she heard running in the hallway and excited chattering muffled by the walls. Water splashed onto the floor as she suddenly heaved herself out and dashed towards the door, her sleeping clothes abandoned on a small stool on the other side of the room. They were of little use now, unlike the white robes that were in her room. Niera groaned in impatience, not really willing to take the time to dry off in addition to getting to the robes she so desperately needed. For once, she made her decision in a hurry, her mind working almost as frantically as her legs as she sprinted through the barracks, all thoughts of modesty lying back in the bathing room with her towel. She was in a hurry, and she was sure even those recently come from a Hold would forgive her rush in this particular situation, though she was glad she quickly passed people headed in the opposite direction so she didn't have to look at the shocked (and occasionally disgusted) expressions on their faces.

Once she'd shoved on the first undergarments she could find, the billowing robe quickly followed, and she checked the mirror in dismay. Her hair was wet. Wet and scraggly, and she wouldn't have time to brush through all of it before the last boat left. Now quite angry with the timing of this, she pulled it into a somewhat messy bun on top of her head, forgoing pins and settling for tying it with a ribbon. Some pieces were half falling out, but the general idea was mostly apparent and she really did have to get a move on. Sprinting once again, she joined the crush of candidates jostling to get onto the boats.

Breathe, Niera, she told herself, taking a shuddering breath as they left the shore. She could do this thing. She could get there and not make a complete fool of herself, at least no more than she already had today. The clutch. Just think about the clutch and her beautiful queen that lay in one of the restless eggs, waiting for her to get there. No humiliation could ever make her sacrifice that moment, when she knew and her queen knew that they were meant for each other. She only had to be patient, wait for the older queenriders to sicken and die or, better yet, wait a few Turns and start a weyr of her own. A weyr unmatched for power and glory, one that would be on the lips of every Pernese child as the greatest weyr that ever was. And she, Niera, at the head of it. What a wonderful day that would be!

Patience, though, was the key. She ached to feel that unbreakable connection, but it was not yet time. The green on the sands, though darling, was only that. A green. She had to wait for the queen in that lovely dark egg to shed its shell and find her, for she had no doubt that she would.

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The significance of the screeching and the mental onslaught hit him instantly. The Hatching. It was really happening, now. It became not a question of when this was going to happen, but what Kishanner was going to do about it. As around him candidates rushed about in a mass of energy and excitement, Kishanner sat on the edge of his cot, thinking about what he really wanted out of this life.

Because the way he saw it, he only really had one shot. At life, not at Impression of course. There would be other Hatchings, eventually. He only had the one life, and did he really want to dedicate it to the weyr. Undoubtedly, when it came down to it and he had no choice in the matter, he would give his life for is dragon. That was just what happened when one Impressed, there wasn't another option. But was he ready to give his life for the weyr, for Pern? He'd known pain in his life, it wasn't that which he was afraid of.

Then what? Why did he hesitate when part of him was screaming at another to get up and go already? This was what he had been waiting for since he'd been burned, probably before that. A chance to eradicate the need to actually use the flamethrowers on ground crews, to spare anyone else from suffering his fate. You're being a coward, Kish. Flat out coward. Just go Impress already! If you don't then the matter's decided for you, that other part of his brain interjected.

So he did. Calmly he put the robes on, covering up the fact that he'd been sitting there in his underwear. Equally calmly he walked to where the last boats were tied and took one out, simply grateful that he could row one alone without any difficulty (and who said Tanning didn't build muscles?). He noticed that he was one of the last ones to get to the Sands, that a green was already hatched and on the Sands, but he simply didn't care. No dragon was going to Impress to someone else. They knew who they were looking for before they ever touched the ground, it was just a matter of finding them.

[Avu]

Trilesn was sleeping. Even in unconsciousness, he managed to look effeminate, graceful even, his fingers curving down from the bed to brush lightly on the floor, his curls flung out every which way on the pillow, full lips opened slightly, his long lashes dark against his cheeks. Whether or not he meant to look as such as anybody's guess, but honestly Trilesn had no idea how he looked. He. Was. Exhausted. He'd spent all day scurrying to and fro in the kitchens - he'd liked it, yes, but he was still frankly exhausted. His eyelids fluttered in a dream as his fingers that were doubled under him closed slightly around something, and then he sighed, snuggling deeper into his pillow as a slight smile curved his lip. Dreams of whatever he was dreaming about was rudely interrupted when a certain bronze flitter started shrieking.

His fingers twitched and a slight, irritated hiss of displeasure emerged from the boy. "...go 'way...lemme sleep..." His dreams, which had previously been of green dragons, changed, however. Eggs. He saw eggs. "...no...lemme 'lone..." And then it registered as the Sharding annoying flitter shrieked again. Trilesn's eyes jolted open, his pale gray eyes swinging wildly around. "SHARDIT!" he whispered in agony, writhing as he tried to scramble up. Unfortunately, the grace he retained on the ground barefoot had somehow escaped him in his sleep-muddled state and all he managed to do was tangle his legs in the furs and fall from the bunk. For such a small frame, he still managed quite a resounding crash, wrenching hip and one arm. "Owowow..." Trilesn jumped to his feet, his eyes automatically landing on his robes; he jumped at them, seizing them and pulling them over his bare chest - thank Faranth he slept without a shirt on - and his pants? They would just be hidden under his robes. Hopefully. The white robes were highly unflattering, he noted unhappily as he pawed his hair out of his eyes and took off, grabbing his sandals along the way.

The sandals dangling from one hand hit him in the hip as he took off, speeding along until he was nearly flying, covering ground at an exhilerating speed. Boats. Boats were good. He jumped into one with another Candidate at random, grabbing an oar and wielding it efficiently. He'd gotten quite used to this method of transporatation by now. One. Two. FASTER! As soon as the boat hit the opposite side, Trilesn jumped off, forgetting dignity in his eagerness. He was running again, soaring, the ground below him shrinking away...He was at the Sands! The heat rising in waves from the Sands prompted him to shove his feet reluctantly in the sandals. The change was not a good one. Trilesn flopped meekly along, his hair and sandals beating out a steady, much slower pace as he slunk into the Sands, ducking his head in shame. How he wished he didn't have to wear his sandals. He'd prefer humiliation - at least he was used to that - to burning the soles off his feet, though. He positioned himself at the back, letting his curls fall across his eyes, shielding his gaze, although he peeked curiously at the eggs. Did he just...wait?

Oh, but not for long - for soon, the Rip Curl egg began to move and then - Trilesn's eyes nearly popped with delight. Oh! Look at the pretty, pretty greenling. How adorable~~

~*~*~

TAKE! SEE PRETTY! "NO, YOU ARE NOT COMING TO SEE ANYONE!"

Just his luck that Corinth had decided to announce that Millieth's clutch was Hatching just as Stupid was about to fall asleep, cuddled as usual in the crook of his neck. Just his luck that Stupid was not entirely asleep, and had grasped the meaning of the bronze's words. Just his luck that the brown 'mandyr had decided he wanted to see the pretties Hatch. Hurry up, Ridmine! I don't wish to be late - I DON'T NEED YOUR INPUT, CORINTH. Naturally. "YOU. STAY!" T'rid snarled, jabbing his finger at Stupid, who frilled vividly at him, opening his mouth in a displeased hiss. TAKE SEE! "NO, AND THAT'S FINAL!" Stupid frilled again, hissing badtemperedly, and dove into one of T'rid's pillowcases. He made a mental note to check said pillow for droppings later. "MIR!" The blue flitter raised his gaze from staring dreamily out of the weyr with a questioning, vague chirp. "You. Watch Stupid. If he tries to escape or hurt anyone, himself included, sit on him. Or something. I don't care. Understood?" Mir chirped in assent, with a slight flutter of his wings as he tilted his head to eye the pillow into which Stupid had disappeared.

Thank Faranth at least one of his draconic little pets understood English and didn't feel the need to argue with everything he said. T'rid launched himself onto the Weyrledge. It took you long enough! Just go, please. With an amused rumble, Corinth let T'rid mount hastily, leaping from the Weyrledge and dropping, catching his fall on open wings and shooting forwards and up before he jumped between to the Hatching Sands. The bronze crooned a greeting to Millieth - it seemed right, respectful, even if it was highly doubtful she'd notice him at all, and swooped to their appointed seats of sort. T'rid slid down, leaning against Corinth's flank, narrowing his eyes to squint out into the Sands at the assortment of Candidates. I can't see a single one of them that I approve of... What about that one? Corinth flashed him an image of the Candidate in question. No...I don't like him either.[/b] Why not? ...they irritate me... You don't say. Thank you, O Master of Sarcasm... Sarcasm? /Me/? Never! ...I've been a bad influence on you, haven't I?... Horrible.

T'rid made a face at Corinth, sticking out his tongue at the bronze. Nobody said you /had/ to start acting sarcastic. Nobody said you had to be an immature brat, either. But you still are, aren't you? ...what does someone say when they've just been told that...? Try, 'I'll change'. Let's not, and say we did. How did I know. Conversation was efficiently ceased with the beginning of the actual Hatching...and a green, the Rip Curl green, was the first to Hatch. Lovely...she really was a very pretty green too. Yay, another green Corinth was guaranteed to Chase.[/size]

[shadowreine]

Keloran would not mind if -that- green chose him. She was, truly, a most unusual shade of her color, lightened to silver. "Lovely lady," he whispered.

She'd probably choose one of the girls, he thought, or one of the more...obvious...male greenrider types. A beauty like that needed to be with a rider who'd oil her and polish her to a shine. Not that he wouldn't, but...he was far, surely, too straight for her.

Hope and desperation, though, made him stare at her with longing nonetheless. Sure, she was...well...a bad omen. Unlucky for a green to hatch first. Yet...she was healthy. Entirely so, if a little...yeah...odd in color. But it was a good kind of odd.

His thoughts rambled, he could not take his mind off of her, even though he was sure she was not, could not be, his. Even though he didn't really want a green. He was just so desperate for a dragon...

Breathe, Keloran, he told himself. You'll have other chances. But how many more? He couldn't stand having the wall right at his back and subtly stepped forward. Just a little. Enough to give himself a bit more freedom of movement.

At least there was a healthy hatchling on the Sands. He should be happy for the Weyr. No, he would never be happy until he had his, or left...and what could the Weyr mean to him then?

[Tashe]

In the fables of Pern, if the clutch doesn't start with a Bronze, then it should be taken as a bad omen. But, certainly by yielding such a pretty Green couldn't be an omen... could it?

A sharp, snapping noise announced the disintegration of the High Tide Egg's shell, it's pieces ranging from size from the size of a human's little finger nail to as large as a fist. From those remains uncurled a little Brown, his wings unfolding and his head rising to greet the world he had just been dumped into. The lights didn't bother him as they had done with his Sibling, his eyes opening with an almost apparent curiosity, that is until he caught sight of all the little pretty pieces of his shell. Squawking in wonder as he began dragging or carrying the fragments into a little pile, after a while, the High Tide Brown began trying to pick up all of his pretties in his mouth. His several attempts to fit all of them in his mouth failed, causing the male to become distressed, flicking his tail in unhappiness.

Opening her eyes once more, the Rip Curl Green finally got up off of her haunches, folding her wings along her back ridges. The Human things... all of their minds pressed against hers, sparkling colors that were almost overpowering, but none of them stood out. None shone brighter than any other. Normally, this would have distressed a young Dragon, but, for some reason... she couldn't feel anything. The world was bright and warm, but those were physical feelings, thinking the Rip Curl Female twitched her tail. Something was wrong, everything felt wrong... but she didn't know why. Taking a few steps forward, the Regal Green arched her neck and closed her eyes, it wasn't worth it to be here if she couldn't find that spark. That mind that called out to her. She was tired, and everything would just be easier if Her's would come forward. A few more steps, another pause, each time she surveyed the minds around her but found nothing. Swinging her head around to look at the Golden Mother, the little Green flared her wings as she looked at Millieth, but they settled down a few moments later. As her wings fell back into place, her head came back around to view the Candidates. One moment, the Green was standing almost statuesquely, and the next... she was gone. Vanished from the sands without a peep.

Looking up from his growing pile, the High Tide Brown cried out as his Clutchsister Betweened, loosing her mind made him feel bad. Wings drooping as he loaded as many of his fragments as he could in the largest of them, the young Brown gently picked it up and wobbled his way over to where most of the boys had lined up. Bee-lining his way over to one of the smaller boys, the High Tide Brown tried his best to look up without spilling the contents of his shell. /M'TA MINE. Greensister went away, it make me sad... I cannot get all pretty pieces! Help me yes? Please yes Mine? I am Behruth!/ Flicking his tail so it gently tapped Mutasim on the leg, Behruth cooed happily, though he was truly sad that his Greensister had left.

The next eggs to show any signs of movement where the Crashing Waves, Deep Waters and Warm Current eggs, two of which sported long thin cracks, while the other had a single large crack.

--

Bringing a hand to her mouth as the Green disappeared, Kaegan stared at the spot, almost hoping that just by watching it the little one would come back. A loud whining noise drew her from her disbelief and forced her attention on the grieving Queen, the oldest of her second clutch had Betweened, she had every right to. Plastering herself to her Gold, the Weyrwoman made quiet comforting noises, as if the Dragon was a sad child. /Salaminth./ What? /She said Salaminth. When she turned and looked at me, that word popped into my mind./ Oh darling, I'm sorry she didn't find her's... I guess she wanted to be remembered.

[wirevix]

Kariel flicked his gaze to the hatching Brown, studying him briefly. He supposed he didn't have much opinion on him--he didn't look much of anything like his father's old Brown, and that was good enough he supposed. He was distracted from the Brown soon anyway as the Green stepped forward.

He watched her uncertainly, watching as she wavered, closed her eyes. What was wrong...? Didn't she like anyone that was there?

Apparently not. Kariel wasn't sure what to think as the Green simply vanished, gone without a single sound. It took him several long minutes to really realize that the Green was gone--had ended her life before it hardly began. He didn't know what to feel, just frozen up at the thought.

He just lowered his head, staring at the sand between his feet. It was sad that the Green had not found whoever was the person for her, but he didn't really understand it. He didn't really understand what it would be like to feel more compelled to kill oneself than to choose someone slightly less than perfect. He would have been gone turns ago if he'd lived like that. It was such a strange thought, and frightening somehow. To be so dependent on someone that you'd never met...

He totally missed seeing Mutasim Impress the Brown that had hatched, and he wouldn't have really gotten the significance of it anyway, since he knew virtually nothing about the boy. Had no idea how many times he'd Stood on the Sands only to walk away alone.



Trulurve grinned brilliantly as the High Tide egg hatched--a Brown, huh, he had somehow expected something else from the Queen's favorite egg. But it still didn't matter, he was a lovely Brown and whoever Impressed him would be very lucky.

And then the beautiful, precious Green who had been resting on the sands so quietly went between. Trulurve just gasped, jerking and leaning forward a little, barely resisting the compulsion to reach out as if he could catch her after she was already gone.

Then he leaned back against the wall and bowed his head. Very few things could make him lose his perpetual cheeriness, but this was definitely one of them. He didn't quite cry, because he wanted to keep quiet after that, but he was certainly miserable after witnessing the sad fate of the poor young Green.

He wished he could have helped her, though he knew enough to realize that there was nothing anyone there could have done. If the one for her wasn't there, that was just how things went, and they could do nothing at all to help her. It didn't make him feel any less crushed, however.

[dreamer]

The sudden disappearance of the pretty green was a shock, jolting Brulen into running forward a few steps, yelling a useless "NO!" to the betweened green.

He hadn't learned nearly enough about dragons, but he knew the little one had vanished forever because there was no one here she could bond with.

Where they all too far away? Maybe she hadn't been able to sense them and was too tired to move? He didn't know, but he wasn't willing to stay so far back anymore.

Maybe the others would move closer too if he stayed here? Most of them desperately wanted a dragon.

[reqqy]

Mutasim was momentarily distracted from Rawign at the explosion of the smallest egg that rested so close to Millieth. For some inexplicable reason, he felt his pulse spike upon seeing the brown within the shell. Such a small, gloriously colored creature. Then he frowned mildly. What was that silly thing doing? All of these hatchlings were acting strange, even by Selenitas' Hatching standards. One just resting in the Sands, the other...rooting around?

Forgetting that he was trying to get Rawign to go away, he commented quietly, "Awfully strange beginning to a Hatching, don't you think?" And, as if his words were somehow portent, that was when the approaching green...went Between. His jaw went slack. What...? No matter how long he looked, though, she didn't return. Gone. Mutasim subconsciously took a step back, a sudden flare of intense inadequacy rushing through him. Suddenly reminded of the deep, abiding fear that one of the Hatchlings would Between because of him, the boy trembled slightly, but forced himself to brush it off. She had left...for some unknown reason. It was impossibly arrogant to think he'd caused it, right? Of course. Dragons didn't notice him anyway. He couldn't have. But why would she...?

His eyes immediately darted to the crying brown, almost certain that this second hatchling would disappear too. But...no. He breathed a sigh of relief. The small one was still there, still rooting around for something despite his sound of distress. Mutasim bit his lip lightly, glancing at the other candidates to see how they were handling this. Everyone seemed...well, at least he didn't see any blatant hysterics. Because of this, he missed the brown completing his task, missed the hatchling crossing the sands. No, he first noticed the young dragon when he was just paces away.

Mutasim stepped to one side, fully expecting the brown to continue on to Rawign, but...the hatchling followed him. He staggered slightly, eyes widening in clear shock at the sudden immersion of a second consciousness in his mind. Without realizing it, tears tracked down his cheeks. Nothing in the world mattered at that moment but the crazy little hatchling with his collection of eggshells. Frozen in place for a moment, his knees weakened, and he knelt in front of Behruth. Behruth. His dragon! The tears wouldn't stop falling.

He smilled blearily at the brown, not fully registering the words, though he took the shell fragments from the hatchling. He fully intended to keep them, maybe make something with them when he wasn't doting on Behruth. That was when the little brown scurried back over the sands. Come, Mine! Help me! I couldn't get them all! "W-wait!" He scrambled to his feet awkwardly, casting a worried glance toward Millieth. She wouldn't hurt her own hatchling...would she? Tears still blurring his vision, he dashed them away with a hand and rushed across the sands after Behruth.

"I'm sorry...I'll get him. Just let me get him off the Sands. Please..." He wasn't sure where he was going with that, but he skirted by Millieth just the same and caught Behruth around the chest from behind, falling to his knees in an awkward dive. The pretties! Lemmego Mine! "Come on. We've got plenty of pretties right here, see?" He waved the shell fragments before Behruth's snout. "Aren't you hungry?" Suddenly reminded of that need, Behruth stopped struggling, though he looked at all the gleaming fragments longingly. But...

"Here, I'll get as many as I can carry. Okay? Then we can go and feed you." Behruth immediately perked up, helping scoop the fragments into a pile so M'ta could pick them up. The boy's small hands couldn't carry too many, but he used his overlarge robe to form a sling for a good portion of them, casting one more glance at Millieth. "We're going." Behruth bounced happily in place, pausing and sobering up only a little when he glanced at where his departed clutchsister used to be. Mine's helping me with pretties, the brown stated cheerfully to his dam. He grabbed a large shell fragment off the ground and darted over to her, lying it at her great foot.

You can have one too! Isn't it pretty? M'ta scurried over, nervous to be so near the queen, and bowed to her hastily before pressing lightly at his bonded. It all seemed like an impossible dream still. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "Come on, Behruth. This way." The brown proceeded off the Sands in good spirits, darting forward and then returning to M'ta to check on his 'pretties'. When they finally reached F'rah, the brownweyrling found himself grinning stupidly.

"Ummm. This is Behruth, and I guess I'm M'ta now?" He laughed, a trace of disbelief in the sound. The brown nudged at the Weyrlingmaster and promptly set a shell fragment at the man's feet, too, for good measure. I can eat now? Behruth questioned plaintively of His. "Yes. Yes, of course."

[glamourie]

Rawign blinked twice and tilted his head as he stared at the clutch. Mutasim's scathing retort had him opening his mouth to reply, and he turned to look at him only to hear another egg hatch. A half-glance was cast the clutch's way, but his attention was quickly taken. "It's a digestive tea actually," he explained with no small amount of amusement in his voice. The flavor was actually decent when it was properly brewed but he'd been unfinished when he was startled into awareness of the eggs hatching. "Typically it's used to treat excessive bloating and gas-generated cramps and it causes the person drinking it to ---"

Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by the sudden screeching from the clutch and he jumped back away visibly. The brown was moving toward him and Mutasim, which puzzled him and his gaze flicked around frantically for the green, but to no avail. What - where - He was reminded of what Kemma said about dragons betweening at hatchings if their chosen was not there, and visibly blanched. His mind latched onto Beggar, Ennayoh and Li, and he couldn't help but back away from Muta - away from everyone - until he was pressed completely against the wall. It would have made him feel better to have one of his firelizards with him, or both, if only because they were comforting entities, but... neither of them could come on the Sands. So he was alone. Alone except for Mutasim but... evidently, from a quick glance at the brown that approached, the last of his company was completely gone. Figured.

"Figures. Your woos failed," he commented weakly, though what was obvious from his tone was that he was amused. He was glad for the other boy, though most of that feeling had subsided in a numb feeling, the same sensation he'd felt when he lost his firelizards to that - that plague. Helplessness was not a feeling he liked, and he half-wanted to follow Mutasim off the Sands anyway before he made himself sick. He settled for watching the other boy leave with his newly-Impressed brown and squirmed back, back to the wall and behind as many of the other candidates as he possibly could. Similarly, he started ambling along the wall as far from the clutch as was possible. Without Mutasim there, his neat little safety net was gone, so he fully intended to lurk as much as he could. At least that way he wouldn't garner any strange looks -- or attention. Only when he was sufficiently as far away as humanly possible did he stop and wrap his arms around his lower stomach.

Was Millieth okay, though? His gaze flicked up to the gold from his hidey-hole, and he was tempted to ask, though he refrained. It wasn't as though she could hear him. After the hatching he would find Kaegan and ask her if she was okay - it only seemed right. For the moment, though, doubtlessly the queen and her rider were distracted, and so was Rawign. That idea of climbing up into the Stands was getting more and more appealing and his eyes flicked from the clutch to the walls, to any possible grooves to climb up... He was plotting his escape route.

[neeuqtar]

Vashti eyed the silver-green dragon carefully. The creature was very beautiful and elegant, but Vashti had long ago learned that beauty and elegance were worthless. The very words held a sneer in her mind. If such a creature decided to Choose her as their Own, there had better be a side to them besides being... pretty. Even the lostness in her eyes didn't penetrate deeply. The part of Vashti that wept at the thought of a life lost for petty reasons was locked far away, banded under iron to keep from breaking Turns before she had reached the Weyr.

A pause, and the silvery child of the Sands was gone forever, lost in bitter cold and unshed tears. Vashti turned her head slightly, lashes dropping to block the bare Sands from sight, her only reaction of grief. Then she clenched her jaw and turned back, golden hair barely shifting along her neck. If the green had not had the will to live, to seek out life despite all measure of pain, she did not deserve to live. If one was not able to fight for life, they should not be given it without care. She had lived such cruelties for many Turns now.

The Impression of Behruth to M'ta was not noticed, though the hatchling's ridiculous behavior--and M'ta's apparent embarrassment--was. Vashti smirked. What a strange excuse for a dragon. She flicked her hair out of her eyes with a toss of her head. If these two dragons were an indication of all dragonkind, she'd rather stay 'single,' as it were. She had her own place, forged from pain and bitterness. But it was hers, and hers alone. A partner like the crazed one picking up bits of eggshell was... not appealing.

[Ember]

Ferneth stared intently at the newly hatched green dragon, a very regal looking thing despite its colour. Another egg hatched soon after, revealing a brown. Wasn't a green first bad luck? Perhaps holding itself like a gold would nullify that. A moment later that proved untrue. It took a moment to register but the green had disappeared, her clutchmate crying out for her betweening. Was there not a suitable candidate for her? He looked back to the brown. Hopefully this one would not disappear too?

The brown had different ideas apparently. Namely collecting the pieces of its shell. A small, sad smile broke the mask of grief on his face. The brown was a charming young dragon and now the oldest living of this clutch. Ferneth glanced at the other eggs, a couple cracking but nothing coming out. This troubled the candidate a bit before he turned his attention back to the brown dragonet, amused to see the egg shell collecting brown near Mutasim. Impression? He grinned at Mutasim - he didn't know how Muta planned to style himself - and watched as the pair left.

He returned to looking at the eggs expectantly but fearful as well. What if his wasn't there? Or worse, his companion didn't sense him and went between like the green? He shivered again despite the heat of the Sands. He was truly, very afraid. The candidate managed to forget his fear somewhat when a dragon hatched but they were just cracking at the moment so he had a moment to just worry. Not good.