Touching of the Blooming Flora Clutch

[Administrator]

Shmee blinked sleepily, letting S'rei take the babe. Just like the other night, he was going straight to the babe first. She clenched her jaw bitterly. "Why is it you try to hold Shei but you don't try to hold me?" she asked before she could think about the words. There was a touch of whine in her voice, a mix of indignation and what sounded like a choked voice trying not to cry. She folded her arms across her chest, looking down unhappily. He was treating her like a stranger, and she hated it. Sure, their last meeting was... awkward... but if he had been so willing to sleep with her again so willingly, why was he alienating her now? She kicked the sand absently, silently wishing Aliscia could just wander away from her so that she wouldn't listen in on them. They were far enough away from the candidates that they probably couldn't hear, but it was uncomfortable having Aliscia, who she didn't even know that well, listen in on their conversation.

But Shmee said nothing else, even as S'rei spoke to Shei. It was almost enough to make her cry, and she tightened her folded arms over her body. She remembered when Shei was born... She had cried not just because of the pain of labor, but because she wanted S'rei to be there. But no, she was alone. Well, Robika was there, but Robika had come out of obligation, Shmee guessed. Normally, Shmee would've had S'rei and S'rei alone with her during that time. Yet Robika had come, out of pity. A gloomy cloud had settled around Shmee, and she looked back over at S'rei. His eyes were closed, so Shmee took this moment to just look at his face. He looked so old. Not physically, but he had an air that was so unfamiliar. He seemed so much more... she didn't know how to describe it. They had both changed, she thought sadly. Yet she still felt incredibly attached to the man. She loved him still, she thought sadly.

As his eyes opened, her own flickered back to the candidates. She didn't want him to realize that she had been watching him. You still do love him,[/color] Aslath remarked. Shmee frowned, looking over to the queen. Even though that bronze's hurt you, you still love him.[/color] Shmee scowled, not responding to that statement.

Hearing S'rei's words, she looked back over to him. "What?" she asked distantly, still distracted by Aslath's words. "Oh... yeah. I don't know. I hope she becomes a dragonrider," Shmee remarked. She hesitated, then strode back over to S'rei and Shei, peering down at the red-headed daughter. "I think she's looking more like you," she said softly, a trace of sadness in her voice. "I can't tell yet with the eyes, but the hair... I think she got that from you." Her voice got smaller and smaller as she spoke. It was so odd, talking about this now. She had often thought of it to herself, but she never spoke it aloud. It was so strange how he was back-- and practically ignoring her. They were a family again, yet a family of unknowing people.

--

Aslath grunted, ignoring Tanith. Stupid green. Trying to make excuses before a queen dragon! At least she was backing up. That was good-- she was the only dragon who could be this close to her clutch. Looking down disapprovingly at the candidates whom she allowed to pass, she snorted to try and intimidate them before moving on to the next round of younglings who so wanted to touch her eggs... But wait! Who was this, who so dared to come into her sands without asking permission!? A bow was not asking! In addition, something near him winked between at the entrance of the cave... Did this boy not even ask her permission to touch her eggs, and dare to bring a flitter near her sands?! This was an insult to her! Flitters were not supposed to be anywhere near her sands! She let out a screech of rage, abandoning her post and bounding over to Malkier. She let out a loud screech.

Make him leave my Sands! He did not ask permission, and he brought a flitter![/color] she roared, and her mind-voice was loud enough so that every dragonrider and dragon would be able to hear it. Tanith, tell Yours to make this impudent brat leave the Sands! I am tempted to close the Touching even now![/color] she bugled. Her eyes were a vivid red-orange, an obvious sign that she would not be messed with. How dare this boy...!

She would not leave where he stood until he was out in the tunnel, away from the Sands. He was not going to touch her beautiful children. However, she had more candidates to attend to. Moving so that her tail was a physical barrier between Malkier and her brood, she looked down angrily at the next poor soul: Coralt.

Normally, she would not waste time sniffing a boy, since he stood no chance at her most prized egg. But since Malkier was unworthy of touching the eggs, she needed to be careful about her examination of the candidates. Sniffing him dramatically, she grunted. He had asked permission, so he could touch the eggs. Moving onto Aminadra, she spent twice as much time inspecting her as she did Coralt. This was a girl, after all, and perhaps had a chance at Impressing her precious daughter. Looking her up and down with her fuming red eyes, she smelled her, making sure the scent was to her liking. Giving her a prod with her massive head, Aslath also brought her mind to touch Aminadra's, just enough to get a sense of how this girl was. When she was through, she grunted in satisfaction. Aminadra had her consent.

Fortunately, through the inspection, she hadn't realized that one of the candidates left the Sands. She paid no attention as Liassa asked to leave, which was fortunate, or else Aslath would've been insulted. Yet she was more focused on Malkier. She wanted him off her sands.

[mashiara]

Poor Malkier. It was not rare for the lad to be so focused on his own thoughts that he forgot the trivial. Unfortunately there was a difference between forgetting to eat all day and failing to obey touching rules. Oh in his mind the lad had recited the phrase he would say-just as he usually imagined the meal he would eat-only to forget both and rush into whatever work he was doing… And the silly lad, his mind on numbers and calculations didn’t seem to realize his folly until the proverbial flitter was out of the sack. At first the queen’s noise simply drew a startled look. What had possessed her to act to strangely?

Oh…Oh dear… he had caused her to act strangely…

Suddenly the only numbers in Malkiers head were the ones conveying average queen size and weight compared to the average human male…

Oh dear…

Gulping the youth raced through his mind…what had he done? He’d bowed and surely splotch hadn’t come unto the sands with him only come near….oh…he didn’t remember to ask. A mixture of emotions swelled in the young man. One set, the part that would fill any young candidate facing an angry queen was very much hoping to not be visiting an infirmary or getting a close look at the inside of a dragons digestive track. That part was rather pale faced and in the process of bowing and stepping back quickly, very quickly. The other part, the something that defined Malkier completely…well it was a bit indigent that she had gotten so furious. He felt bad for having disrespected the queen but…what about his research? He hadn’t touched even half the eggs and he couldn’t count on someone else’s estimations! She was ruining his work!

But that part had a very small voice at the moment in front of the very very big golden dragon. He quickened his steps, eager to be out from under those angry dragon eyes.

“I’m very sorry Queen Aslath…I was simply eager to st-t-to see your eggs they are very beautiful” Malkier was no expert on dragons nor people. In fact he had a habit of being blunt or oblivious when it was rather bad timing. However a wise little thought occurred that it was best not to admit he was more interested in researching than impressing. Not that either would happen now… “I meant no disrespect I was simply awed by you and your great clutch the chance to st-to see them up close made me forget myself…” In a way he spoke more to himself than the queen. He doubted she really cared what he thought. He kept his bow low and continued to back away some distance before straightening. Well his study was ruined now and he’d made an utter fool in front of the other candidates and the queen and likely the rest in the weyr would hear of some idiot named Malkier soon enough.

The amber eyed fellow grimaced a mixture of frustration and shame touched the youths face. He was not used to making such blunders and they were scary as well as humiliating…Back to the barracks for him. He doubted the gold would let him come anywhere near those eggs again anytime soon....

[Kisha-Ra]

Roysha did her best not to show any fear as Aslath sniffed her, and tried not to sigh with relief as the gold grunted approval and, to Roysha’s amazement, let go of the golden egg. Roshya looked at that egg uncertainly, unsure if she should touch it, now or ever, she didn’t truly know much about what queens and their riders did within the Weyr. The Weyrwoman had offered to answer questions, Roshya would inquire of her, but not just now, just now Shmee seemed busy and there were other eggs to touch.

The silver sparkling birch egg was close to her and rather pretty, Roshya ran her fingers over the shell cautiously and found it warm and hard shelled, it seemed quite friendly and cheerful to her, but she patted it’s shell and moved off to give others a chance to touch the birch egg.

The bright shell of the iris egg drew her hand to run over it but she withdrew it quickly, the egg seemed unhappy and petulant to say the least. Made curious by that Roysha decided to try a dull-shelled egg and headed for the unremarkable poison ivy egg. She laid a hand on the light green shell, then drew it back quickly biting back a yelp. Her hand itched like crazy now. The occupant of the egg seemed well enough but the shell seemed to be covered in some kind of powder, walking on Roshya rubbed her hand vigorously against her trousers to try and get the stuff off.

Tulip egg Roshya ran her hand down the shell of and muttered nonsense to as she would to a nervous runner, the occupant of that large egg seemed to her to need soothing. Its neighbour the daisy egg was fantastically patterned, and quite welcoming for all it stood protectively over its queen. Pansy egg loved her but there was something strange under the love that it was hard for her to analyse.

The curious dandelion egg seemed almost fluid in personality, changing a little at time into something else, Roshya wasn’t sure she liked that. In contrast the half buried mass of the lilypad egg was just as puzzlingly enigmatic but in a more sinister way. Lady slipper egg was also strange to her, almost unbelievably perfect in a way that made her want to seek the flaw.

Venus fly trap egg looked sinister but filled her veins with excitement and happiness and sent her almost bounding off to stroke forget-me-not egg. However the velvety blue egg’s cool reception knocked a bit of that out of her and the cheery determination of honeysuckle egg replaced what she had lost with yet another emotion.

By the time she reached the rose egg Roshya had experienced so many emotional ups and downs from the eggs that she was ready for almost anything. The shell was pleasantly smooth and Roshya closed her eyes and rested both hands against it, yawning for some reason. She pulled back and smiled at the egg, was that lethargy a ploy to keep candidates with it, one to keep them away, or just the nature of the dragon within? The charismatic thistle egg woke her and invited her to stay longer but Roshya had already made up her mind to touch each egg only briefly and shook her head. Buttercup was another amiable sort of egg, however Aslath’s sudden screech made Roshya jump and pull her hand back from it. Trembling Roshya turned her eyes to the queen but it wasn’t her actions that had upset the gold. Instead of returning her hand to the buttercup egg Roshya decided she’d better ask her questions of the Weyrwoman before some idiot managed to offend Aslath even more, wasn’t it common sense to be polite to someone who could fit most of your body in her mouth if she wanted to? Roshya asked herself that as she approached Shmee and stood discreetly scratching her hand while she waited politely to be noticed.



Redaro heeded the warnings he’d been given last time his firelizards had followed him onto the hatching ground and sent Telba off with a message to his parents, left Jinka playing with some wild male flitters and just left Insi asleep on his bunk. Then he’d put on a clean shirt tied his hair back and left for the hatching ground at the trot.

During the instruction from the candidatemaster Redaro kept his eyes downcast, trying not to draw attention from that formidable woman, and shuffled into line when he was told. He wished he wasn’t so far from the front of the line, it gave him too much time to think about things, like being dismissed in disgrace.

Redaro watched the whole drama with one of the other boys unfold in front of him, and trembled. If some idiot was going to upset the queen why couldn’t the have waited until Redaro was safely past her? A prod in the lower back made him turn his head but it was just one of the other candidates, a young boy who smiled encouragingly and motioned Redaro to hurry up.

Since it was clear he was holding up the line Redaro pulled himself together and stepped forward and bowed as low as he could without seeming to suck up and tried to suppress his nervous shakes. ‘May I touch your eggs, senior queen?’ Redaro decided on the queen’s title rather than her name as showing greater respect and stood with his eyes on the sands as he waited for the answer.

[glamourie]

The truth was, Ciceroth wanted to come. He did. But he also didn't want to put up with Ka'rys. His rider had insisted him coming would be 'awkward' and 'uncomfortable' for Aslath and Salenth (why did humans have to complicate things so strangely?) and had asked him to stay put. Since Ka'rys was barely speaking to him (apparently the 'I will hate you forever' concept was lasting longer than Ciceroth had anticipated), he wasn't too eager to defy him so blatantly. Curiosity or not, Ciceroth recognized that Aslath probably would want her space. He was as much hers to command as any other dragon in the Weyr and if she wanted his presence she would call for it, and he would come without question. Otherwise, he was willing to give her plenty of space and otherwise keep to himself, as he had since he arrived so many Turns ago. It wasn't in Ciceroth's nature to be clingy, nor was it in any way his nature to bother others. He talked to other dragons when he felt it necessary or when they addressed him first, but Ciceroth otherwise kept to himself quite a bit. He just never had very much to say.

However, Ka'rys angry or not, Aslath's shriek had drawn his attention and he'd taken to wing before his rider could complain. (Since Shmee hadn't asked him to come, Ka'rys didn't; he would have without hesitation if she'd said she wanted him to be there to mop up the pieces help deal with the candidates, though.) He took to wing and glided across the grounds to settle on one of the ledges in the Hatching Grounds, his wings flaring at his sides as a hint of agitation whirled into his eyes. Whether he was possessive or not was irrelevant; Aslath was Senior Queen and no one had a right to upset her, particularly not in regards to her clutch. He growled low in the back of his throat, but stayed put up on his perch. His gaze, hints of scarlet streaking throughout multifaceted eyes, swung over toward the boy who had so insulted her, and he lashed his tail. He didn't know what happened. He also didn't care. No one upset the Senior Queen when she was guarding a clutch. Didn't matter what the issue was, or the situation, or what. No one.

I could eat him, Ciceroth offered to Aslath, the intensity of his gaze lingering on Malkier. Ciceroth flared his wings and lashed his tail again. It was truly a wonder he hadn't landed near the entrance and grabbed Malkier by the clothes to pull him out by force. It would risk injury to the boy, but insult was almost as bad, and he'd just insulted the Senior Queen of Selenitas. That was unacceptable. Unacceptable! (Anyone who knew Ciceroth would know the anger was strange for him, too - he was usually very laid back. But then, what did they expect, truly? He may not have been as protective as Aslath, but he did have an undeniably protective streak in him. He watched the boy leave, never taking his eyes off of him, and flicked his tail in annoyance. I don't think he would be missed.

[reqqy]

S’rei carefully avoided meeting Shmee’s gaze. It seemed clear to him, when she did not pursue the line of questioning, that the girl hadn’t intended to reveal herself like that. He did her the simple courtesy of not acknowledging the lapse. Not so clear what he should do with this woman. The bronzerider had not been proof against her verbal attack nights ago; it still hurt when the quiet ache in the nose she’d broken was all but forgotten. He wasn’t stupid. S’rei understood she’d been angry, but so had he, and she seemed to seesaw between so many different emotions that he never could be sure which Shmee he would get. Once, he’d been able to read her moods as easily as a missive. Now she was almost a mystery to him. Almost. It was more like he was grabbing at mist, at the shadow left in her wake. Easier if he couldn’t understand her at all.

Her voice, though she sounded as if her thoughts were far removed. He could handle this better than the plaintive vulnerability of before. The problem with Shmee was that every one of her emotions had the benefit of truth behind them. She couldn’t control herself at all. Maybe that came with age. And, though the emotions were always true, the reasons behind them may not be, or they may not be reasonable at all. If she were just more rational he wouldn’t have to worry about every word or action. S’rei was not about to open himself up to her words again. It hurt too much.

His arms tightened around Shei. “But only if you want to be,” he murmured to his daughter. To imagine Shei as a goldrider made his stomach turn. She’d always be in danger. A greenrider was no better. Always in danger…S’rei almost laughed at himself. If she wanted it, of course he’d support her, but standing here, now, he wanted nothing more than to remove all evidence of dragons from her life such that she would never be tempted. Death stalked dragonriders in this time.

Blinking at Shmee, he resisted the impulse to step back before she could take Shei from him again. She didn’t try. As she spoke, he forgot himself for a moment, a quiet smile coming to the otherwise stern face. S’rei’s forehead came to rest against Shmee’s. “She’ll probably have your figure. Hopefully your temper, too, because we’ll all be in trouble if she has mine.” The man chuckled. “It would be nice if her eyes were blue, though, like…” His voice trailed off. He didn’t pull back from the physical contact right away, but his body stiffened. That was how they’d been. There was no truth to that now, none, and he knew he’d stepped over some line. S’rei glanced away.

***
Mutasim left off his brooding at the sound of Aslath’s enraged shriek, his hand instantly going to the hilt of one of his hidden daggers. This time, though, she wasn’t raging at him. Last touching, Jabari had refused to leave, resulting in the wrath of the lunatic gold that ruled this weyr. Only after his heart rate had settled back down to a more reasonable pace did he release the comfort of the weapon. The boy’s dark eyes narrowed. He moved delicately through the eggs, coming to stand near Coralt, though he didn’t approach the lad until Aslath had finished her inspection. Lad? Mutasim was younger, and certainly smaller, but the boy seemed young anyway. While Muta hadn’t bothered to make any ties with this new batch of candidates – Faranth new most of them would simply Impress and leave him behind again anyway – he’d never found any real reason to dislike Coralt.

He let his hand fall on the other candidate’s arm. “She won’t eat you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. Having been on the receiving end of one of her displays before, he knew how frightening it was, even though Coralt undoubtedly had reason to believe that her aggressiveness had little enough to do with him. “Maybe we should move away from Malkier, though.” A small half-grin tugged at the corner of his lips. Mutasim urged the taller boy toward the eggs, glancing back over his shoulder at the queen dragon.

Unusual for him to reach out to anyone, but then, Mutasim had been mourning long enough. Mourning? Yes, he supposed that’s what it had been. Z’hin. He closed his eyes for a moment. It always seemed to happen to the people who least deserved it, didn’t it?

[lilliana]

As Aslath gave her consent for Lyelle to Touch the eggs, the girl let the smallest of smiles appear on her face as she curtsied. She was working hard to contain the elation she felt at being here, on the Sands… even if this was only the Touching. Normally, of course, Lyelle wouldn’t have had a problem if she had shown her full delight at being near the eggs, being allowed to Touch their shells, but she was being wary around the irritable mother of the clutch. The candidate wasn’t sure what was right or wrong, so she was trying her hardest to make it so that there was no possibility that the gold would send her off the Sands.

The girl stepped back from the eggs for a moment, when the Venus Fly Trap Egg caught her eye. It was small, but vibrant, and Lyelle liked it… a lot. Although it held a bit of intimidation, and the girl hesitated walking towards it, she knew that if she didn’t go Touch it, she never would Touch any of them. Therefore, the candidate slowly made her way towards the egg, and as soon as she was close enough, she laid the very tips of her fingertips on the shell.

Needless to say, Lyelle was enormously surprised by the emotions that shot through her fingertips. It wasn’t the least bit hostile, or even very fiery, as she had assumed. Instead, it seemed to be friendly, curious… She could have stayed there for the remainder of the Touching, not even stroking the egg, just simply Touching her fingertips to the top of the shell. Instead, however, another candidate came up, and she stepped back, going to the next egg.

The next egg that the girl chose to Touch was the Rose Egg. She had decided about a sevenday ago that she wouldn’t go and Touch the larger eggs – they probably held browns or bronzes, which were for boys. Last time she checked, she was female, and therefore only greens, golds, and occasionally blues would have the chance to Impress to her. Lyelle didn’t want to Impress to the queen… so she would go to the smaller eggs.

Laying a finger on this egg, the feelings that coursed through her fingers were, if it was possible, even more surprising than those of the Venus Fly Trap Egg. There were… well… none. As she pulled away, slightly disappointed, Lyelle yawned a little – or a lot. Blinking her eyes sleepily, she pushed the questioning of when, exactly, she had become so tired as she looked for her next egg.

The Dandelion Egg immediately caught her attention, and Lyelle made her way towards the little egg drowsily. She quickly lay a hand on it, hoping that it would wake her up, somewhat. And although the curiosity and gentle nature of the egg – or, rather, the dragonet within the egg – was refreshing, the girl didn’t wake up any. Sighing, she kept her hand on the Dandelion Egg for awhile, too sporadically exhausted to do anything else.

After a few minutes, however, Lyelle knew that she had to vitalize this time with the eggs. Who knew if there would be another Touching before the actual Hatching occurred? Trudging away from the Dandelion Egg, she slowly made her way towards the last egg that caught her attention… the Poison Ivy Egg. No sooner than she had felt the egg’s surface than she slowly pulled away, examining her hand with new energy. It felt itchy… very itchy… OH SHARDS IT ITCHED!!!

Lyelle, however, was determined to hold out. Patting the egg lightly, the girl bit her lip as hard as she could without breaking the tender surface. Turning, she immediately went to another egg, small as well, to try and distract herself from the sharding itch. The Birch Egg seemed to be the best candidate… and hopefully it wouldn’t do this to her other hand. Normally, Lyelle wouldn’t go near an egg so vibrant and attention-seeking, but hey – she was in distress.

Laying her other had on the Birch Egg tentatively, Lyelle welcomed the warm emotions gratefully. She would have to hold out until she was dismissed from the Touching… well… hopefully it would be over soon. Shardit shardit shardit! Sighing, the girl looked over to the Poison Ivy Egg, unable to be angry with it. Shrugging and trying to ignore her red, itching hand, Lyelle turned back to the egg she was currently Touching, smiling down at it. This one wasn’t trying to make her suffer!

((I wasn't sure how often I could get on after this, so I wanted to make sure she could Touch a lot of eggs... I'll probably be able to post once more before the Hatching. I'll try and be on as much as possible -- packing. <33))

[midnight]

Aminadra noticed her bunkmate flee the sands, and she wondered what had prompted it. Liassa looked a bit panicked. Maybe she wasn't feeling well. Hopefully missing most of the Touching wouldn't affect her chances of Impression. She was wondering about it when the Queen suddenly bounded across the sands, roaring at a candidate who had insulted her. Aminadra winced, both in fear and embarrassment for the other candidate. Now she would be doubly careful about her own actions.

Her breath caught her in her throat as Aslath turned to her. She stood her ground, but she was trembling like a leaf as the Gold lowered her head. Those red eyes were as big as she was! She stumbled a bit, unsteadied by Aslath's prod, and she gulped. It seemed like she was being sniffed. Did she smell bad? Good thing she put deodorant on this morning. Then she felt some kind of light presence in her mind, but she wasn't sure if it was really the Gold or if it was her imagination. Apparently, she was deemed worthy. She thanked Aslath with another bow, then scurried off to the eggs, eager to touch them before it was too late.

The Thistle Egg was the first egg to catch Aminadra's attention. It was on the edge of the clutch, but it got her attention with its pretty silver shades, as well as a certain confidence it seemed to exude. She wasn't sure if eggs could have personalities, but if they did, this one certainly possessed a charismatic one. She reached out her hand, which was trembling from anticipation rather than fright now, and brushed her fingers delicately over the shell. She cocked her head as she felt the warm, leathery surface of the egg. It wasn't anything like how she had expected, and she could feel the life inside. She gave a shudder of delight. What a strange but exciting thing!

[ryanne]

Coralt watched nervously as the queen banished a candidate from the Sands. Poor boy forgot to ask. It was a silly slip on his behalf, but it would probably cost him being able to be present for the touching. He wasn’t sure whether or not that would affect his chances at Impression, but he, personally, would want to risk it. He was glad that he made sure to bow appropriately and ask. But he still had to pass her inspection and she was obviously ornery. Thankfully, she only sniffed him a bit and then determined that he was acceptable.

Grinning a bit, he made his way around the Sands, opting not to touch any of the eggs yet. The Birch Egg caught his attention, but he kept walking. Something about its glitter was enticing, but he felt no need to run his fingers along it. The Lilypad Egg also sparked his interest, but he didn’t want to touch it. It was mysterious, but he felt no pull, no drive to get closer. He just sort of wandered the Sands, making a loop while other candidates rushed hastily from egg to egg, trying to touch as many as possible.

Finally, he made his way over to Tulip Egg, he paused for a moment in front of it. It was a large egg and something about it that both drew him closer and pushed him away. It was comforting in some manner, but it was unnerving. He opted not to touch it, continuing around the Sands. There was going to be an egg that he just had to touch, he had just yet to see it yet. There was going to be something intriguing that would just pull to him.

But after making three full circuits of the Sands, Coralt gave up on that idea. Maybe it was too romantic of a notion, to know what egg held his mindmate from the second he touched it. To only touch one egg and then have that egg hatch to reveal a dragonet that immediately decided that he was the one from the moment his talons scraped across the Sands. It wasn’t how it worked and part of him knew it, but part of him was unhappy about it. He wanted some form of a perfection in the Impression and the Touching, but it wasn’t going to work that way.

So he approached the nearest egg, the Venus Fly Trap Egg, stopping a pace away from it nervously before coming closer, laying his palm on it. He felt no immediate rush of feelings or certainty, just a weird creeping feeling of boldness and curiosity. He grinned, softly removing his hand and then moving on. The egg intrigued him, but there were others on the Sands that he wanted to touch.

Next he went up to the Thistle Egg. There was nothing remarkable about it, but he wanted to see how it felt, if there was anything significant to it. Oddly enough, he realized that it was a fairly popular egg. He waited for someone else to move on before approaching it and touched it, wondering what color it would hatch to be. It seemed confident, sure of itself. It was odd, but he supposed that everything about this experience was going to seem different to him.

[darcy]

Perhaps it should not have come as any great surprise to Lienos that he was late Punctuality was certainly not a defining feature of his character, however he thought that for something as sharding important as a touching, he might actually break away from his norm. Unfortunately, it was not to be so. He had woken late, and was only half dressed when the message was sent out. Although he would have been ready in a few seconds had he chosen his normal clothing and grooming pattern, he rather though that something like a touching, to be viewed in front of the Queen and Weyrwoman commanded a little more... thought through. So he spent several minute trying to dig something half respectable out, despite the fact he owned basically nothing that was appropriate. So after three minutes of mulling the whole thing over in his head, he simply threw on a simple shirt; which although not particularly formal was clean, a large step up from his current attire. Then came the matter of his hair, which was, as usual, totally unkempt. So then the poor candidate spent nearly five minutes looking for a brush, which was an entirely unsuccessful mission, and he ended up tying it back in a short ponytail. At least he looked like he had made some sort of effort.

Having wasted enough time he near sprinted down to the grounds, Lienos arrive quite breathless, with hair almost all totally fallen out of the makeshift ponytail. Much to his dismay he had missed the earlier part of the candidatemaster's instructions, and hastily asked a younger boy behind him what he had missed. He received a lengthy explanation from the keen boy, but could not help but worry he would overlook something in his explanation. So after thanking the candidate profusely, he peered over the shoulders of those in front of him, trying to observe the protocol of a touching, something entirely new to him. He was so lost in his observations, he barely noticed when he was approaching the front of the line. He looked forwards, appearing quite shocked to see both the Queen so close. He had been this close to Raiyth, admittedly, but she was a still-growing green.. where Aslath was just... There was honestly no word for it. Giant, commanding and enthralling, all in one word, perhaps. Gimmalling? Lost in his whirring thoughts, he soon found himself literally at his turn to address the Queen. He took a moment to swallow his words, and spoke in a calculated manner very unlike his usual heart first, head later style. 'May I have permission approach and touch your eggs?' He had no clue what the correct protocol was, in terms of titles, so he left any such thing off in fear of tripping over his own words. It wasn't until after he spoke that he realized he had not bowed, and with a flushed face did so, both to the Queen and her rider.
.

[Administrator]

Shmee didn't respond when S'rei spoke to Shei. She would allow him the private words to her daughter-- their daughter. She looked down into Shei's peaceful face. She was beautiful. So long, she had dreamed that S'rei would be able to look down at her like that, loving the daughter that he had sired. And now, he was doing just that. This was like a dream. Any moment now, Shmee expected herself to wake up from such a taunting dream. But it was all real. These past few days were all real. He brought her pain, but at the same time... It brought her relief. Her eyes softened hesitantly, slowly relaxing her muscles as she watched S'rei's hands handle Shei so carefully.

Her eyes refocused on S'rei's when she felt a light pressure on her forehead. She could feel his warm presence blanket her face, and she had the overwhelming desire for him to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him. Obviously, he couldn't do that, as he was holding Shei, but she burned in a desire of wanting him to do just that. For a moment, she leaned forward, her lips a mere hair breadth's away from his. She closed her eyes, letting his warmth take over her for the first time. For once, she wasn't fighting him. Time seem suspended as the two faces hovered above their offspring, and there seemed to be nothing on Pern but them. She found her eyes beginning to water. It was odd. Why did she so want to cry again?

She felt the waters brimming over her eyes as S'rei continued to speak. But she couldn't help but chuckle weakly as he remarked about what Shei's temper might be. "I like how she's looking like you, though," she told him softly. "The red hair. It's brighter than yours was." She sniffed, and smiled a little. "Like mine?" she finished as he spoke of eyes. Closing her eyes again, she determinedly tried to quell down the emotion rising in her. Did he truly miss her, then? He must have... Why else would he speak in this way? She longed to rest her head on his shoulder, but now was not the time or place. But she so longed to...

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone standing nearby expectantly. Reality flooded her senses, and she blushed, pulling away from S'rei's head. She looked immediately toward the waiting girl, trying to recover from that small moment with S'rei. "I'll be right back," she murmured in a slightly hoarse voice to the man. Shei could remain with him for a moment. Smiling a little at Roshya, she came toward the girl.

"Hello," she greeted as cheerily as she could. "Did you have a question?"

But her mind was still racing. S'rei. Things might get better now... Could they be a family again?

--

Aslath paid no attention to the scrawny candidate's apologies. Her philosophy was to get it right the first time. She hissed at him to get him off the sands as quickly as he could. In fact, she lowered her head and snorted after him, hoping to make him leave even more quickly. Stupid blubbering candidate. Did he truly expect to Impress one of her dragons? Well, she wouldn't let him touch the eggs, that was for sure! Too bad she would get yelled at by Shmee if she banned him completely-- they needed candidates for the Hatching. But she would lower his chances. Oh, how she was going to lower them.

Seeing another candidate approach, Aslath turned abruptly from Malkier, bending lower to give Redaro a full inspection. Was he worthy? She hissed, bringing her snout within inches of his body, smelling him. Proceeding to look the boy up and down, she snorted. He was fine-- at least, for now. With obvious grumpiness, she moved back-- but a glimmer of bronze caught her eye from high above. Startled, though not at all objecting, she grunted up at Ciceroth.

Then she crooned. He was a decent bronze. He understood when she was angry, and for the reasons she was. Though I am in favor of that motion, I'm afraid that Ours would probably kill us if we did,[/color] she grunted, obviously irritated with that. He did not even ask me permission! He thought a bow alone was enough to please me! Why do we have idiots on our Hatching Grounds? Who Searched them?[/color]

But alas, more distraction came in the form of another candidate. Aslath couldn't help but rumble in amusement as the boy looked so flustered. Nonetheless, Lienos needed to be inspected. She couldn't risk having another abomination like Malkier touching her precious children! She gave him the same treatment as the others had, sniffing him and looking at him from every angle she could manage. But he, too, was deemed worthy, and she grunted. He could go through.

[reqqy]

Mutasim was used to remaining a shadow, a mysterious figure that often went unnoticed, but rarely when he decided to be noticed. It was galling. His dark eyes flashed, the young man deciding he didn’t want to have anything to do with this snotty candidate anyway. He could have gotten angry, could have snarled and hissed. But that all seemed rather pointless. Besides, much as he prided himself on his cool demeanor, having an angry gold because you were fighting amidst her eggs did not appeal to him. His eyes burned a hole in the side of the insolent child’s face, but he moved away, his foul mood building. Back toward the eggs? Why not? If only because, when he stopped to touch them, someone else would have to wait. He wasn’t stupid enough to try to sneak past the angry mother to quit the sands.

It was the Lady Slipper Egg that he first came upon, the thing a quiet, gentle pink. His eyes narrowed. That would be one people would like, wouldn’t it? Well, girls. But most of the candidates were girls, so he’d be putting the most people out. This one, then. Mutasim touched it, the move almost – though certainly not enough to attract attention from the crazy gold over there – violent. He froze, splayed fingers tightening along the surface in what seemed more a spasm than ought else. What was this? The darn thing was pushing at him, trying to enforce calm on his mind. The boy pulled back with a snarl. “Perfect, huh? Nothing’s perfect,” the hiss was barely audible, even to him. Mutasim practically fled, his steps taking him quickly away, but he found that the anger was giving way to a quiet grief. He was used to being needed. He missed that. Now, after two turns of playing the me-first, I-don’t-care-about-anyone-else game, he wanted what he’d known. Z’hin had supplied part of that. As in all times of distress, his hand sought out the hidden hilt, gathering comfort from it.

In his haste, he bumped up against another egg, one similarly all rainbows and sunshine. Mutasim almost passed it. The thought of so much goodwill was frankly nauseating. Whether people admitted it or not, no one cared for anyone else. They were just all playing games. Even knowing that the feeling must be a lie, however, something drew him closer, the ache in his heart finding a measure of solace in the warmth the egg radiated. Quiet, timid warmth. Nothing like the almost imperious flood of calm perfection from the last. He was immediately reminded of the children, haunted and hungry, coming to him with hope in their eyes. That hope would eventually turn feral. Cold. In some bands, there was trust, as in Muta’s. But hope? Never. They fended for themselves, and it simply suited them better to band together. That first look of childlike trust, though, had always torn at the stone wall he’d built around his heart. This, too, invaded it.

He had to pause, to soak in the feeling that the Pansy Egg gave off. Sorrow remained, though it quieted. Mutasim found himself regretting the moment when the little dragonet inside would lose this openness. It was sure to come eventually. That thought, and that thought alone, allowed him to finally break away.

***

He hadn’t thought about the incongruity of it all right away, because of her reaction. Shmee seemed to accept his touch as if that were only to be expected. Her breath, warm and gentle across his face, felt like the most natural thing in the world. In that moment they’d gone back turns, and she’d been his pregnant weyrmate again. The small bundle that was Shei could have been Miguel – how quickly the lad had grown! Her eyes were closed against his scrutiny. He searched, then, for the spark of realization that would cause her to draw away again. It was bound to happen. There was no physical contact between them anymore except what was inspired by anger, by a passion that was not at all rooted in consideration. He was still mildly shocked at the turn things had taken in their first true meeting since his return. Yes, even now.

But, even at his altered posture, she made no indication of her discontent. Shmee finished his sentence without a pause. For a moment, his voice caught in his throat. He would have nodded, but that would have been a bit awkward with the way they were standing. “Yes,” he managed huskily. “I always thought that any daughter of mine should have her mother’s eyes.” Blue. So many people romanticized that color, and for the longest time he’d never understood it. His own mother’s eyes had been blue, but they’d been cold and expressionless as well. He’d always hated blue eyes. Until Shmee. Even when she was aggravating him on these very sands for the first time, the life in her eyes reached out in an attempt to capture him.

Blinking at her sudden departure, a touch of the familiar pain gripped him. She’d finally brought herself to the present. But no, he soon saw that they had an audience, the man straightening and attempting not to color. Normally he wouldn’t have. Shmee was his weyrmate, after all. Now, with that state in question, it was harder to justify it. Luckily, Shei provided the necessary distraction.

She awoke with a sharp cry.

Moving her close against his chest, closer to the warmth of his beating heart, S’rei walked the sands in slow, measured paces, careful not to venture out into the main flow of candidates. Shei wanted her mother. The babe sniffed and cried, though she didn’t wail. Something in the sedate movement, in the secure warmth of the arms that held her, caused Shei to quiet. S’rei spoke softly. He couldn’t be sure if it was his voice that she liked, or if she remembered it from before, but the infant finally fell into silence, a small hand reaching up and coming to rest upon his jaw. The man blinked back gathering tears. Hard to imagine she’d ever be as old as the candidates already on the sands. Harder still to think that she’d one day leave him for some other man. That made him chuckle. No, Shei should be this small forever.

[midnight]

Moving away from the Thistle Egg, Aminadra moved to the tiny but beautifully colored Forget-Me-Not Egg. She bent by the small egg, admiring the array of colors across its shell--yellow, violet, blue, brown. It seemed like the longer she looked at it, the more small patterns became apparent. She traced a finger over the white veining and let out a soft gasp of appreciation. The egg felt wonderful, like high-quality cloth. Once she moved past that, however, she was surprised by the cold, distant feeling coming from the dragon inside. For a moment, she was alarmed. What if it was a dud? Then, she noticed an analytical sort of sense coming from the egg as well. It was judging her. How strange. A bit unnerved, and wondering once more if she was over-thinking things, she went to another egg.

Another small egg, the dainty Pansy caught her attention next. The warm, loving feeling coming from the soft yellow egg was reassuring after the chilly reception the Forget-Me-Not egg had given her. It seemed a bit...shy, though. For lack of a better word. She gave it an affectionate pat before seeking out another egg.

She simply could not resist the pink and white Rose Egg. Memories of roses given to her on a romantic night flittered through her mind as she laid her hand on the firm surface. This shell felt a little different from the other eggs. Frowning in concentration, she sought the mood of the dragon inside, and felt nothing at first. Once again, the fear of a dud reached her. Gradually, however, a certain laziness became apparent. Maybe the dragon was sleeping? Did they do that in the egg?

As she went to find another egg to touch, the Sunflower Egg caught her eye. Did she dare to touch it? There was no harm in asking, she supposed. Hopefully, if she was polite, Aslath would at least not eat her, even if she didn't let her touch the egg. She approached the Queen for a second time, bowing again. "Excuse me, but would you allow me to touch your Gold daughter?" She asked courteously.

[irbre]

Although she was late, Phelain arrived more or less unnoticed, a strange occurrence with her. Between the cacaphonic jangling of her bracelets and anklets, which was quite deafening, and her somewhat bouncy and bubbly manner of entrance, she should have been noticed immediately, but the chaos of the Touching was already underway. Candidates milled among the eggs, the girls rubbing their grubby, insignificant fingers over the glistening shells while eying the radiant Queen egg hopefully. Phelain sniffed derisively. No doubt those girls were pathetic and uninteresting, simpering over the shining egg they had no hope of Impressing. Let those ugly Candidates mull over the other eggs. She, Phelain, would have a better chance.

Or maybe not. Phelain paused, her cunning mind working at high speed. A Queen meant an immediate raise in rank, but was that so exciting? One didn't have to work for it, it merely appeared. Where was the sport in that? The gears in her mind whirling, Phelain examined what she had heard of dragons. Queens Rose only a few times, but they always Clutched. There were also greens, the only other female type of dragon, who Rose much more often. That would mean more pleasure, more of a chance to try her hand at Weyr politics. The convoluted mechanisms of Phelain's mind set into order, the Candidate spun towards Aslath, stepping across the Sands with feline grace.

"Oh glorious Queen Aslath," Phelain began, bowing low, her manner worshiping and subservient, "I wish merely for the honor of Touching a few of your eggs." She had luckily thought to learn the name of this Clutch's Queen before she had come, and from what she had seen of the gold's treatment to Malkier, it was a wise choice. Dragons were so much larger than humans and appeared to have motherly instincts in abundance. It would be unwise to place herself between an angry mother and her Clutch. Twining a piece of hair around her finger, Phelain cautiously looked up at Aslath, her gaze flicking towards the Sands moments later.

The eggs were undeniably beautiful. The Sunflower Egg stood highest, golden and radiant. Maybe she would Touch it, just slightly. It never hurt to try, after all, and a free ride to the top would be enjoyable. There were other eggs just as beautiful, though, such as the silvery Birch Egg, whose beauty rivaled that of the Queen egg. The vividly hued Buttercup Egg also caught Phelain's eye, seeming to recognize her penchant for bright colors. There were others eggs, of course, their pastel and bright colors vying for her attention, each different and unique. It would certainly be a task to walk among them and stroke the shells she wished to, Phelain decided. Most of them were just so...beautiful.

[darcy]

Lineos's eyes were wide as the Queen approached, attempting to take in all of her huge form at once, quite an impossible feat when she was so close. She rumbled, and Lienos snapped out of his trance-like stare, a lopsided grin crossing his face. Perhaps he should have been more formal in such a situation, but the whole event was just so exciting and he could barely help himself. The grin was replaced with a more nervous one as Aslath sniffed him, for what appeared to be an eternity in Lienos's head. However, before he could worry about his suitability, the Queen let out a grunt, and moved on. He assumed that this was a sign of approval, and when nothing else was said, he moved forwards to peer at the eggs. He barely knew where to start, so many eggs, so many feelings all around him. So instead of debating over the eggs, he decided to move in a systematic way, in sort of spiral from outside in.

He first moved to a small egg on the outside, the Iris Egg. Even from several feet away he could feel the aura of the egg attempting to draw him in; however it was not in a pleasant, quiet way, more of an attention seeking cry. He debated skipping it, but thought better of it, and stepped forwards. He lay a gentle hand on the egg, and was surprised by it's bitter feeling. He spent very little time with it, and moved away. As soon as he had lifted his hand the bitter feeling grew, as if the creature inside despised him moving to another. Frowning quietly, he moved on to the Thistle Egg.

Although this egg also sat towards the edge of the clutch, it seemed to do so for a very different reason to the Iris Egg. As he approached he got the feeling this egg knew it had an attractive air, and loftily pulled Lienos closer. He brushed a hand over the egg, and grinned as slowly a casual and charismatic feeling came to him. He spent a little longer with it than the Thistle Egg, but soon realized it's popularity and moved away. Unlike the Iris Egg he felt nothing as he moved away, rather as if the egg knew there would always be someone there with it.

Next, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Lady Slipper Egg. He felt nothing until he lay a hand on it's light shell, and even then the feelings it gave Lienos were muted and subtle. It seemed uncontroversial in every way, but at the same time a little unsure of itself. It seemed to be one of the most beautiful eggs, but yet... with a sigh, Lienos crossed the sands in search of another egg.

The next to catch his eye was closer to the centre, and the Queen egg. He took a moment to admire the Sunflower Egg, and chuckle lightly at the large group of girls it was attracting. Of course, he could hardly blame them for focusing their attention on that particular egg, but was also extremely thankful he was a male and therefore not battling it out for rights to be the next Queenrider. He turned his gaze to the side, and noticed the Honeysuckle Egg. As soon as his hand was near the egg, he could tell the egg was incredibly amiable, even more so than the Thistle Egg. He couldn't control the soft smile that spread across his face as he felt the genuine good-will of the egg. He spent longer with this egg than the previous three, and felt a twinge of regret as he moved his hand away, he was certainly enjoying the feelings surrounding that particular egg. Still, he knew it was unacceptable to linger on one particular egg, and cast his eyes around for another.

[Kisha-Ra]

Redaro thought for a moment that he would be getting a close up view of the inside of a queen dragon’s mouth, but Aslath stepped back so Redaro bowed his thanks and slipped past her into the hatching ground.

The queen egg was well enough, very pretty and with the promise of a queen within, Redaro could see why girls would want to touch that gleaming shell but queen dragons definitely weren’t for him even if Aslath was examining each and every candidate like they might Impress her precious gold daughter. Redaro turned away to examine the rest of the clutch.

On the outskirts of the clutch Iris egg drew his eye with bright shades of purple and its curiously upright stance. However a brief touch revealed the nature of the dragonet in that shell to be not nearly as attractive, it was bitter and miserable in his mind like one who always believed themselves to be shorted of something no matter how much they had. Redaro shook his head, maybe it was only resentment for being entrapped in a prison of shell that upset the occupant so much.

The next egg he approached, more cautiously, was the Lilypad egg, a touch of the green and pale pink shell showed him nothing of the nature of the dragon inside, to his annoyance, it was being mysterious on purpose Redaro was sure. A brush across the Dandelion egg reassured Redaro that his hand would not sink into it no matter how it looked and the mental/emotional feel of it made him smile slightly.

Pansy egg was another pretty shell, and this time with a pretty nature, loving but almost uncertain and denying uncertainty. Redaro was unsure what to make of it so he moved on quickly. In the almost sinister seeming shell of the Venus fly trap egg Redaro found the touch of a childlike personality curious and very excitable and under the bright shell of the Buttercup egg was a warm presence but one that Redaro thought held hidden depths and perhaps not good ones.

Thistle egg drew him, and apparently others for he had to wait his turn to lay a hand on that shell, with a lazy charisma and allowed him to touch its nature but that nature mystified him. Lady slipper egg mystified him yet more with a seeming lack of flaws that Redaro could see, and Forget-me-not egg’s occupant seemed to examine his personality as much as he did its.

Tulip egg was almost a kindred spirit to him in its nervous idea that it wasn’t where it should be. Redaro ran a soothing hand over the shell and whispered to the dragonet inside that things would probably turn out right, then determined not to spend any more time with Tulip egg than the others he turned to Daisy egg. Daisy, too, seemed concerned over something but it welcomed his touch.

Birch egg Redaro felt was trying to draw him in with its shiny silvery shell and the warm welcoming sense of its personality he wondered what it was up to in there. Honeysuckle egg was also welcoming but bold and determined too, for what Redaro couldn’t say. Rose egg left him yawning it was so relaxed in fact he nearly missed the final egg as he wandered toward the exit. It was an unremarkable shade of green and quite small but the candidate master had told the candidate to touch every egg it they could so he ran his finger tips over the shell. That woke him right up. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d suspect you of being some kind of prankster’s trick.’ He muttered to the egg as he grabbed a handful of sand up and used it to abrade his fingers, ignoring the heat in favour of relief from the itch.


Roysha made a close examination of the sands, guessing that the man Shmee was with was either her weyrmate, her child’s father or both, and that they had quarrelled over something recently, from their actions. Roshya’s patience bore fruit as the Weyrwoman approached her. Somehow Roshya couldn’t resist answering the smile with one of her own.

‘Sorry to interrupt you Weyrwoman.’ Roysha apologised without being too clear about what she was apologising for interrupting. ‘Yes, I was wondering about the duties of queenriders outside of threadfall, the records are very detailed about the role of queens and their riders in fall but other duties tend to get chalked up to ‘governing the Weyr’, which is a pretty broad term.’ Roshya looked up, trying to get some measure of the queenriders reaction to that question from her face, and scuffed one foot in the sand.


Jarathon hoped the candidate master hadn’t noticed him poking that other boy to get him moving, she might take it for horseplay and the last thing he wanted to be accused of right now was horseplay. Even if it was his usual style to play the fool Jarathon had sworn off that for the touching, especially now. Upset dragons tended to make everyone around them very serious and respectful.

His own turn to make his appeal came far too soon and he decided to just keep it simple, even though he had been trying to think of something more appropriate, Aslath truly did not seem in the mood to listen to flattery, however justified and sincere it may be. ‘Can I touch your eggs please?’ Jarathon asked as he bowed, then winced over his clumsy, childish, plea.


Odian was less nervous than he had been at the last touching, he was a veteran of the hatching sands now after all, but he wasn’t calm enough that he could stop tugging at his tunic and pushing his pale hair back from his face. At least he wasn’t shaking like one of the lads in front of him, not even now Aslath was making so much of examining even male candidates.

When his turn came Odian gave the gold a practiced bow, because he had practiced, and looked up at her. A great deal of up. ‘May I have the privilege of touching your eggs queen Aslath?’ He asked, not letting the sight of a queen dragon phase him this time around.

((Ugh, my stupid computer wouldn't post this last night for some reason. *kicks*))