Aslath's Clutching

[Administrator]

((Remember, anyone can come watch. ^^))

Aslath hissed, writhing on the Hatching Grounds. Her belly was expanded, but not hideously so. So it was likely to be a small clutch, which wasn’t surprising, considering how short the Flight was. She had laid on the Hatching Ground for a couple days now, waiting for the eggs to finally leave her womb. It was extremely uncomfortable. The weather had been dry recently, and very hot. Even some of the flora blooming around Selenitas was beginning to gain a touch of brown. So it was even hotter than usual on the Hatching Grounds, and Aslath did not enjoy that. She growled, her eyes whirling as she felt a pain in her belly. It was time to clutch, and she was not looking forward to it. It had been painful last time, so it would undoubtedly be just as painful this time around. She shifted her massive golden head up to her rider, who sat in the tiers, watching it happen with a distant look in her blue eyes.

Is that all you’re going to do, just sit there with your hatchlings?[/color] the irate queen asked with a hiss. Shmee looked over at Aslath, blinking in mild surprise. Miguel was sitting by Shmee’s feet, holding a long tube in his pudgy baby hands. He giggled, bringing it to his mouth and babbling into it. Shmee looked down at him and forced a laugh for his sake. Brightening at her response, Miguel squealed in laughter. Obviously, he had no idea at the stress that was going on both with the dragon and the rider. Shmee was holding another baby in her arms as well, the now almost two-month old Shei. The girl was awake and drooling, watching as Shmee absent-mindedly bounced a bright toy in front of the babe.

I don’t want to bring them onto the hot sands, Shmee replied firmly. She sighed. She didn’t like clutchings. They always looked so painful. This had been a miserable clutching time, she figured. She hated the Flight, hated the man who was now ‘Weyrleader,’ and was unhappy with things in general. She would hardly speak to Ka’rys nowadays. She didn’t need him. All he had done was take over S’rei’s spot. She was mortified for even hoping for a minute that it was S’rei who had come to save her after all. But no. She had woken up, extremely pained from that kind of experience so soon after giving birth, to hand the Weyrleadership over to a man she didn’t like. So she was perfectly capable of running things alone. However, Aslath did her best to try and initiate conversation with Ciceroth every now and then.

Suddenly, the queen screeched in pain as the first egg began to slide out. Instinctively pushing a mound of sand with her head, she adjusted her position to lay the egg on the mound. Hissing as the contraction of her body eased the egg out, the small, soft-shelled, bright purple egg sank onto the sands. Tired from the first push, Aslath curled her body around it. Ciceroth, I have laid the first egg,[/color] she told him, figuring that he, as the sire of the clutch, would like to know about that. She didn’t want him directly on the sands with her, of course—after all, he was no Salenth—but she wouldn’t completely alienate him like Shmee did to his rider. It is a handsome one,[/color] she added.

Timidly, Shmee looked over at the entrance to the tiers of the Hatching Ground. People were allowed to watch clutchings, and dragons were able to watch from the top, but she wasn’t sure if she was a fan of that theory. Sighing, she turned back to the clutch, settling Shei’s toy down and adjusted the babe’s position in her arms. She hoped things wouldn’t get too crazy in here.

[glamourie]

It was, perhaps, fortunate that Ciceroth was a lot more patient and tolerant than Ka'rys. Of the two of them he was easily the more easy-going. If he was put-out by the fact that he wasn't Aslath's 'favourite' it definitely didn't show; in fact, Ciceroth seemed content right where he was, sprawled out a ways away from the Hatching grounds. Perhaps once the clutch was laid he would look in, but he recognized the need for privacy and space, and he was willing to respect that. Truthfully, Ciceroth was willing to respect most anything. Aslath had been remarkably pleasant by his standards, since he hadn't expected anything from her after the flight; he wasn't a clingy dragon with anyone but his rider, and he didn't make demands. Perhaps it was a very strange trait, but Ciceroth had grown up at Fort under the reign of Kamerai where, despite women being mostly oppressed, no one denied the authority of the senior queen. He was 'well trained' so to speak. Curious as he was (and he was most curious), he would settle for being told rather than pushing. If Aslath had wanted him there, she'd ask, and he'd come. Otherwise, he would stay put and give her (and her rider) space.

Crooning, he sprawled out and turned his head toward the Hatching Grounds. He made no move to go closer, but there was no denying his interest and that he was paying a great deal of attention - both to Aslath's words as well as to the people that would, doubtlessly be milling up to the surrounding area to watch the clutching in interest. His tail swung up and around his body, twitching nervously. He'd never caught a queen before; wasn't he entitled to be a little anxious?

I doubt you're capable of clutching anything less, was his only response. Some people might have interpreted it as sucking up - it wasn't, though. Ciceroth had the fortune of seeing Aslath's last clutch, so he had no doubt to the truth of his words. He did however have to admit a certain anxiety that wasn't his own, and finally settled for reaching out with his question. Rysmine would like to know if he can watch from the Stands or if you would be more comfortable if he waited like everyone else. He does not mind either way, but does not wish to offend you. Yes, Ka'rys was observant enough to realize Shmee didn't like him - and detached enough not to care. He was fine with her disliking him if it meant she left him alone except for responsibilities. He wasn't exactly fond of her, either. But he would not disrespect Aslath by coming to her clutching without her permission. Unlike what some people may have thought of him, Ka'rys did respect the Senior Queen. He just didn't think much of her rider. Couldn't like everyone, eh.

[prissy]

Malrigor had come to watch the clutching he would stand this time and hopefully impress he was quite pleased with the way things were going. He watched and hoped that it wasn't all that painful on the Dragon, he was pleased that it was such a lovely egg. He wondered what color would hatch from it since he was here to watch and see how many actual eggs would be in the clutch.

[kysseh]

//Hurry up, Mine. I want to go explore.//

Tanith's almost petulant tones in her head made Aliscia offer up a snort, surprising the healer who had been showing her how to apply salve to the scars on her face. After barely a few days in the weyr, the greenrider already found herself enjoying the lack of shouting and roaring that had characterized Benden Weyr. It was peaceful here, albeit not peaceful enough to put her off her guard. She twitched an apologetic non-smile at the healer. "My dragon is impatient," she said simply.

At that, Savitri simply arched an eyebrow. That was interesting. Usually the people were more impatient than their draconic companions; this was new to her. Ignoring the statement anyway, she simply smeared more of the salve along the scar lines on the greenrider's face. "These scars will never fade, and what fading they do will be very slight. This salve will help keep the skin loose, though, so it doesn't completely distort your face," she instructed the other woman, continuing as if the interruption had not occurred. The young healer had been more than a little surprised when the greenrider had turned up at the Infirmary, asking for a numbing salve to help negate the pain caused by the healing scars. Savitri had responded by ordering the smaller woman to sit and promptly digging out something better. The healer was personally furious that nothing had ever been offered to the woman at her previous weyr. Had the injury been cared for more carefully, the scarring would not have been nearly so bad.

Once she sealed the pot of salve and handed it to the greenrider, Savitri moved to wash her hands, glancing back over her shoulder at the other woman. "You should put that on twice a day: morning and night, if you can. You can put it on more often if the skin is really bothering you," she added, drying her hands and preparing to show the satisfied rider out. Halfway across the room, however, the healer received a flurry of images from her finger-sized white friend that made her pause. She frowned, trying to make sense of the images. "Make some sense, Shadow!" she sent back at the little creature, which made the creature respond with one very distinctive image of the senior queen curled around a purple-hued egg. Comprehension dawned. "I think the senior queen is laying her eggs."

Aliscia snorted softly and slapped her riding gloves against her thigh, moving towards the door. "Wondered when she'd get on with it," she said, as Tanith's instincts confirmed the healer's statement. She was interested in watching the clutching, perhaps getting a feel for the general mood of the weyr. The peace was welcome, but she was unnerved by it too. She pushed at Tanith's mind. "I'm coming. We're going to go to the Hatching Grounds. And we're taking the healer with us." she said firmly, expecting the dragon to protest. Aloud, the greenrider told the healer, "We're going to watch. Coming?"

Surprised by the offer, Savitri debated only a moment. She was technically off-duty now, and she had to go retrieve Shadow from the Hatching Grounds before he angered the senior queen into eating him or something of that nature. She somehow doubted anyone would be able to find him, though; the white 'mandyr loved to lodge himself in the tiniest cracks in the wall. "I'm going to watch," she replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading outside to take the ladder down toward the boats. Halfway across the platform, she found a dark green head blocking her path.

//You come with us.// the green dragon told her firmly. Startled and unwilling to disobey, the healer took Aliscia's proffered hand and slid up behind the greenrider, grabbing hold of the straps as the green threw herself into the air with powerful wingbeats. Savitri had to admit that this beat walking or taking the boats. Tanith had them there in record time, dipping her wings and warbling softly in respect to the senior queen before landing near the stands. As soon as she was free of healer and rider, the little green made for one of the lower tiers, settling on it contentedly to watch.

Exhilirated by the short ride, Savitri could not help but smile as she followed Aliscia up into the stands. That had been fun! The take-off had been rather unnerving, but the green was a competent flier. That, or Savitri had a strong stomach. Which of those it was, the healer was unsure. She glimpsed the weyrwoman--Shadow's images reaffirmed her theory of who it was--a distance away and gave a respectful half-bow in her direction, a gesture which Aliscia repeated only a brief second later.

"Ever been to a clutching before?" Aliscia inquired of the younger woman, shaking her head when the healer answered in the negative. "You're in for a treat, then. Hatching is even more exciting." Not even waiting for a response, the rider sat in the stands where she was, mind firmly linked to her preening dragon above. She was surprised that Tanith had not protested to bringing the healer with. Then again, who knew what was on the fickle green's mind? Shrugging it off, she simply watched the queen where she curled about her egg. One down... who knew how many left to go?

[Kisha-Ra]

Uncharacteristically all three of Redaro’s green firelizards were perched, still and silent, on his shoulders, perhaps it was the presence of a dragon queen that kept them in order. He had been present for a few minutes, at the back of the stands, and was wondering whether or not to leave. He really couldn’t muster up any wonder for the sight of the clutching queen, in fact he felt quite sorry for the dragon, the whole process seemed to be quite painful if he was any judge, and that was just for one egg. Who knew how many there would be?

The egg in question was small in comparison with Aslath, or indeed with any fully grown dragon, Redaro couldn’t see for a second how even the youngest weyrling green could have emerged from something that small. Redaro found the egg almost mesmerising, not in itself, though it was quite pretty, but for what it represented. Another dragon on Pern, Aslath’s offspring, someone’s mindmate and greatest love, without even hatching the dragon inside that fragile shell was so many things that Redaro’s mind spun to think of them all.

[Administrator]

Aslath crooned. Ciceroth was a nice dragon. He was always polite to her-- then again, she wasn't the type to dislike sucking up. After all, she liked the compliments, however fake they were. They only time that she didn't like sucking up was when they were sarcastic. But she sensed no sarcasm coming from the bronze, so she was allowed to enjoy it. Of course Yours can watch. I can't say that ShMine will like it at all, but he has my permission and my permission is all what matters,[/color] she told him sleepy, pushing her head through the sands again, digging a very deep little sand-nest. She grunted, nuzzling her soft purple egg. It was certainly a strong one. It would hatch into something brilliant, for sure. You can come watch, too, if you would like. You may not be on the sands, but you can watch where the other dragons watch,[/color] she told him with her own politeness, looking up to the top of the Hatching Ground, where some dragons already were laying, watching the clutching occur. She recognized Anemith and Kmarath.

Slumping, exhausted, around the purple egg, she felt the light contractions of another egg readying itself to journey through her birth canal. She hissed in preparation. Shmee looked over sadly at her bonded. She hated seeing Aslath in such pain, especially that she knew what it was like now. She gripped Shei with a little more tightness. Shei made a little mewling sound, flapping her arms a little in response to her mother's hold. "How's it going?" Robika asked gently, coming over to sit beside Shmee. The Weyrwoman shrugged, not meeting Robika's eye. The greenrider sighed. "It's not Ka'rys' fault, you know," she told Shmee firmly. One again, Shmee shrugged. Shaking her blonde head, Robika stood up. Shmee was obviously useless for conversation right now. She had been in such a funk, and was simply unable to break out of it. Slowly, Robika moved towards the spectators, hoping they might be better for conversation than the Weyrwoman.

Noting most of them were candidates, Robika immediately put on her happy face for them. "Is everyone excited for the clutching?" she asked cheerfully, rubbing her hands together. "Who knows? Maybe that egg holds your dragon!" she told them excitedly, trying to get them pumped. In a few short weeks, their lives could very well be changed forever because of what Aslath was laying on the sands.

The queen shrieked as the contractions became harder, and even Robika fell silent as Aslath pushed out another egg. This one was green and had a pink tip on it, but Aslath quickly dropped it into the waiting nest. It was small, and the sand covered at least half of it easily. Not seeming to notice, Aslath tiredly pushed sand around it. Another egg down, and it seemed like there would be hundreds more to go. At least, it felt like it. Well, at least the clutch would be a strong one! That was all what mattered.

"Redaro, get your stupid flitters out of the Hatching Ground," a cold voice said from behind him. Lura came, folding her arms firmly. Liralla was ambling about among the candidates happily, giggling as she grabbed Malrigor's leg. "Boo!" Liralla giggled as she clung to the boy's leg. Lura looked over to see what her daughter was doing, then rolled her eyes. Refocusing her attention back on Redaro, she glared. "If Aslath catches your flitters in here, she'll pitch a fit, even if they're not doing anything," she warned. Shmee, hearing the commotion from behind her, frowned, and turned back. "Yeah, Aslath won't be happy if she sees them," she told Redaro distantly before turning back to Aslath. She would maintain order, but otherwise ignore everyone. She didn't care so much about them-- she didn't care so much about anything anymore, save Shei, Miguel, and Aslath.

[reqqy]

And you don't think this is ridiculous at all?

She's beautiful, came the reply. Distant. Distracted.

The bronze huffed. A fleshy manling? I suppose. He knew why the tone. How could he not? It just reminded His of all that had been missed. All. You're going to hide out here for the rest of your life? That's intelligent. Watch from the sidelines. I am not going to hang around and pretend I don't exist. Stay or leave, but figure it out, or I'll make the choice for you. The fact that there was absolutely no emotional response from the other end was worrisome.

Settling in to think, the dragon stretched, wriggling at the new scars pulling tight across his hide. They were quite unnoticeable amongst the ones he already had, at least from anyone else's standpoint. His nerve endings served to tell the tale that the eye couldn't quite divine. He'd heard her, of course. Tried to obey. Tried. That seemed like an age ago. What was impossible was simply impossible, and the past, to a dragon, didn't hold much sway. He wasn't particularly social, but he missed company. Lonesome, out here, hiding like a frightened wherry. One dragon here he might call friend. Several he prided himself upon. His clutch. His lovely little strong ones. Not so little anymore. He felt a stab of what His must feel. And he couldn't even see them, because he was stuck. The bronze growled low in his throat, head swiveling toward the unseen distance. Restless. So very restless.

She'd thought she was hallucinating a week ago. Since then, the same hallucination. Reysalth insisted that Laurie needed to rest. It made sense. She hadn't slept well since...since forever. Lauranna hadn't even been to see F'rah. Everything just seemed - unimportant. Even her son. No, that wasn't the truth, but she couldn't stomach Shmee. His ghost would always be there, hovering beside his nephew and that woman. When had she started calling her that woman?

No matter. This time...she had to know.

He was merely a shadow beneath the trees. It couldn't be a coincidence though, could it? A random man lurking not far from the entrance to the hatching grounds. A tall man. That was what struck her first. Men were often tall. Few were as tall as he had been.

But that was where things didn't fit. Too thin, for one. She never could quite see his face, no matter how she maneuvered, but the shock of blonde definitely wasn't the color she remembered. Hair color could be changed, though, and grown out like that. It curled, yes. It was possible, wasn't it? A random hope. He carried a foreign stringed instrument openly at his hip, one she knew that the man she sought didn't know. No more than a hope. Still, it would bother her if she didn't at least completely dispel the nagging doubt.

The shadows covered his face. It didn't change the spark of instant recognition. Joy transformed to anger almost in the same second. Laurie had to jump to reach, but her hand caught him across the cheek just the same. The tree of a man swayed, but didn't step back. "I'll kill you! I swear it by M'el's memory." Her eyes flashed.

"You're the first." Lauranna blinked, then. The voice was lower, and doubt entered into her mind again. She'd been so certain. What was he talking about, anyway? "No one else recognized me. I got within...ten feet of them. My daughter."

Disarmed by the vulnerability in the alien voice - could that be him, truly? - the woman merely stared, feeling the tears building up. "Shei. Her name is Shei. You'd know that if..."

"If I'd been here." A statement, but the emotions behind it were too complex to unravel.

Lauranna regained her poise in a flash. "You're a skeleton. And what's with the blonde? I don't see how anyone could recognize you." She watched him finger his hair absently, as if he'd just remembered it. Even in the darkness, she could sense that his eyes weren't on her.

"Too long a story, pixie. And not important. I thought...eh. That doesn't matter either. No, this was needed, once. It takes time to grow out." He shrugged, his mind obviously miles away. Suddenly his eyes flashed to her. "Don't tell her. I still haven't...figured out what..."

Lauranna frowned.

The longlost former Weyrleader cursed sharply.

Salenth descended into the Hatching Grounds with a flurry of wingstrokes, a low rumble in his throat. He said to hide, but you were so close. He missed her, this great bronze, and though he didn't say it directly, the sentiment was clear enough. Careful not to disturb her eggs - her children and not his, which needled, though just barely - the male settled into the sands, wings sweeping out in a grand gesture.

An entrance should be an entrance.

Thread take all this hiding idiocy.

Outside, S'rei was still cursing, but Lauranna stepped forward and grabbed his arm before he could decide to flee, pulling him toward the hatching sands. Shmee would be furious. It didn't matter, though, because her brother had a daughter, and he couldn't be allowed to bail out. Not now that everything was in the open.

Would the Weyrwoman recognize Shei's father in the gaunt, blonde stranger? Now that Salenth was here...possibly. Lauranna didn't bother to hide the nasty turn to the half-smile that crept across her face. Served him right, whatever he got.

[kysseh]

//It will be a fine clutch. She is not tainted like /them/.// Tanith told her rider with such confidence that she startled Aliscia from her sober thoughts. The greenrider could not argue with her dragon on that count. She would be shocked to her core if any misshapen hatchlings showed up in this clutch. She fervently hoped, though, that Tanith could manage to watch this clutching without starting a fight like in the last one. She did not fancy being kicked out of the weyr within days of arriving.

Fortunately, Tanith was behaving quite admirably. The green had taken a shine to the healer they had brought with, and Aliscia strongly suspected that she saw the girl as candidate material. Aliscia agreed, to a point. Then again, she had not taken the time to look at the girl in that light as Tanith had, and she lacked the draconic ability to 'smell' out prospective candidates. Whatever the case for Tanith's tolerance for the other human, the greenrider gave it only fleeting consideration. She had spied the weyrwoman a short ways off, and it crossed her mind that offering her expertise might be a good way to keep herself in this place of relative peace. If she had something to offer, there would be less reason to kick her and her hostile green out, even if Tanith did something ridiculous like pick a fight for the umpteenth time.

Mind made up, the greenrider moved in the weyrwoman's direction, keeping a respectful buffer of distance to avoid invading her personal space. It could not hurt, she decided. "Weyrwoman..." she began, with a respectful nod of her head. She had seen the shrug-off the other rider had received but was undaunted. What had she to lose, really? "I'm Aliscia, of green Tanith, formerly of Benden. Benden troubles this weyr, I know. Tanith and I are experienced in... dragonback combat." The thought made her grimace, along with the pull on her heartstrings at the very sight of the children. It was another regret she felt keenly. "I wanted to offer that expertise for your knowledge and use, should you ever find need of it."



Savitri, interested as she was in watching the queen, gave the enthusiastic--overly so, she thought--greenrider a look of mild bemusement. Was there any person who was not excited for this event? She simply nodded to indicate her agreement, a faint smile gracing the corner of her lips. She had never seen dragon eggs before, much less been present at a Hatching. To say she was curious would have been a dramatic understatement. As silence fell with Aslath's next cry of pain, though, Savitri had to amend that thought. Her healer instincts made her want to dose the queen unconscious with numbweed to dull the pain, pain she knew had to be comparable to human childbirth, which was an uncomfortable process at best. She knew little enough about dragon sounds, but one did not need to be well-versed in that language to know when a sound indicated 'pain'.

She was surprised, however, by the vivid colors on the dragon eggs. She had not expected them to be that way. The salamandyr eggs had had color, but for some reason, the healer had envisioned dragon eggs as large, same-shaped blobs of rock-colored shell. That had been stupid, in retrospect. She was glad for the colors. They were certainly quite interesting, as well as quite cheery. She had a brief thought that Shadow might like to see this and then realized, courtesy of another image popping into her head, that he already was. She would have to find him soon, preferably before he got too close to anyone who would eat him.

[flupine]

Celeyn found herself drawn to the clutching though she had meant to stay away. This was torture, created for herself by herself. Her very own personal hell. Celeyn's feet took her toward the Hatching Sands, though against her will. Shards! Why could she not control herself?! Upset with herself, upset with Shmee and Aslath, upset with life in general, Celeyn's thoughts turned to dark, forbidden memories. As she entered the Sands, she remained strangely quiet, moving toward the stands, caught in memories. Sera.... Walking rigidly she took a spot in the stands, turning blank, unseeing eyes to Aslath.

"Celeyn, Celeyn!!!" The screaming call had reached her ears even above the din of noise in the cavernous Kitchens. She turned toward Seresta who was running towards her, a crazy grin lighting up her face. "Celeyn, the dragons are humming! They're humming! Do you know what that means?' without pausing she had answered herself, "The eggs are hatching!" Breathless and full of fluttering excitement Seresta had grabbed Celeyn, forcibly pulling her across the room. 'Wait Seresta, shouldn't you tell everyone, just in case they do not know the news?" Pouting instantly Seresta stuck out her lower lip in a blatant display of selfishness. "Celeyn, as long as I am there, it will not matter and besides, they will figure it out." Already turning around to flounce out of the room Celeyn reached out to grab her arm. "Should they not at least acknowledge their future Weyrwoman? Tell them, let them know you are the future authority." Blushing with false modesty Seresta backtracked prettily, "you never know I may not be chosen." But without further hesitation she clambered on top of a table. "Everyone!! The Hatching has started, Candidates make your way to the Sands! Looking down expectantly for praise from Celeyn, Celeyn smiled up, nodding her head in agreement. This was her Weyrwoman.

Blinking slowly she brought herself out of the memory before it went to far. Years had passed and still the memory hurt. If only Seresta could have known how true her words would be, would she have even of uttered them? But knowing Seresta the mere thought of not Impressing the Queen had never really occurred to her but then it had never really occurred to anyone. Pushing a hand through her hair in a nervous gesture, her eyes shot away from Aslath. With her mind preoccupied she had not even seen Aslath, and di not think she would be capable just yet. Celeyn needed to regain some of her composure before she attempted anything else. Looking elsewhere, she decided the best course of action would be to take note of the people who had come to watch the clutching. Celeyn had her own masochistic reason that drove her to come here, everyone else though... these were Selenita's people now. Sadly though, Celeyn did not recognize many of the Rider from her time. The weyrbrats now filled the seats, though they came and left as many young riders did not have the patience to wait the full hatching.

A grin began to broke out slowly across her face as she noticed that her wonderful Candidate Instructor had made it to the clutching. Of course she would, the little intruding brat. Clenching her jaw momentarily her eyes sought out her Green dragon who had bellowed out the orders in her head before the disastrous lesson. And it had been quite disastrous but Celeyn ciuold hardly help herself. This...this green rider knew nothing and yet she thought she was capable of teaching the Candidates. Teaching them what? Snorting in derision she rolled her eyes before deciding to beef it up a little. Smiling pleasurably, she tried to catch the rider's eye. Nothing crazy, nothing mean-spirited and extremely disrespectful, just a smug acknowledgment. This was a clutching after all and even if she had angry and hurt feelings toward the mother, she was the Senior Queen of her Weyr and there was point in being a distraction at this time. For a loyal Weyrbrat, this time was sacred, no matter any particular personal feelings.

Starting to stretch out her legs, to relax into a more comfortable position before she confronted the image of a clutching Aslath, her eyes stopped abruptly on a vaguely familiar figure. How in Pern...? Celeyn felt like she was being cracked open by a Tradesman tool. Memories long buried, rose to viciously bombard her. Seresta laughing, Shmee lazing about, laughing. Everyone laughing. Candidate lessons. Sera practically beating the history of the bloodline into them. The mantra that had kept them awake before the hatching :Only the best... Shmee....

It hardly even looked like, she was so, mature looking now. And she was holding something.. a baby? It was so hard to picture the ridiculous little Candidate as a mother, but then even less so than a Weyrwoman, which she now was. Celeyn eyed her cautiously, there was no hate filling her as there had been before. Her heart did beat faster in anxiousness, her palms felt sweaty, even her head thumped unbearably. But her face remained cool and relaxed. Nothing showed other than the mildest of curiosity. A burning dread filled her. It was like fear had set in, this was Shmee's Weyr, there was no more bloodline. And perhaps this was the scariest part. The comfort that Celeyn once took in knowing exactly how her future would lay before her was no longer there, she could feel herself wanting to slip and fall into the same abyss that had pushed Seresta. Celeyn's nostrils flared and she sucked air in, again feeling like she was suddenly being deprived what was so essential to life. It was now, at this moment, shaking, gulping in ragged breathes that the reality seemed to slap her in the face. There truly was no bloodline. Many of those that now filled the Weyr wings would not even know the Bloodline. In just a few turns everything had changed irrevocably. Would she change too? But had she not already changed? Sera was dead, Serest was dead... Celeyn and Seresta sat in the back of the class, Seresta nudging Celeyn incessantly, even to the point of being annoying. Apparently everything the Candidate master had said was funny. Seresta knew all the information. she had been groomed for Impression from birth, she was ready but Celeyn felt some trepidation, she would impress but to whom? Smiling tightly at Seresta, Celeyn's stubborn pride burst through her nervousness. Always. "Seresta, look at their faces!" She had hissed. Turning around wildly, Seresta had drawn conspicuous attention to herself, making a production of asking, "WHO?" Celeyn's forthcoming smile had a cruel edge as she whispered loudly, "The Holdbrats in the front." Every head had turned toward the Holdbrats that were indeed sitting in the front, blushing, ducking their heads down in embarrassment. Not even the Candidate Master had dared to correct them. How cruel they had been in the ignorant youth...

If the moment were to come for a meeting between the two women, Celeyn was not sure what she would say. Though out of habit, no doubt something cruel even hateful might pop out. In times of stress and nervousness, old habits tended to pop out as in the Candidate lessons as she had so obviously displayed in her lack of restraint. And though Celeyn had not felt any anger towards the woman, holding herself strictly in line, she could not help as she felt the old hurt unfurl inside her. Her shallow breath sucked in and she could feel her eyes burn with the unmistakable sting of tears. Celeyn sat there wallowing in her own self-pity, why was she doing this to herself? Biting down on her bottom lip she brought out a small drop of blood, licking it up she forced her eyes toward the laboring Aslath.

Watching her, Celeyn mentally compared her to the hatchling she had been. Bigger more aggressive but then she had the makings of all that she became the moment she hatched. It was hard to understand why life worked the way it did sometimes and even as she thought this, the anger built inside. She had worked so hard against this moment. She left the Weyr so that she would never have to face this moment, never have to face the reality of what had happened. She was reduced to her bare self, alone and hurt as if she had no defenses against the outside world. She hadn't wanted this!!! They had brought her here, what did they want from her?! Shaken, Celeyn considered leaving but she knew that someone would have seen her by now and stumbling out was not the image she wanted. But this all hurt so badly. With hard silver eyes she stared at Aslath, caught between the present and the past.

[glamourie]

[ Do I win slow poster award? *ducks* ]

I will wait. I do not want to crowd you and many others will come, Ciceroth replied with a definite note of amusement in his 'voice'; he had no doubt that people and dragon alike would be scurrying in to see Aslath's clutch and he was not about to add to the number of dragons lurking around. He would look later, when the number dwindled, when the stress had lightened. While it may have been a touch inconsiderate, Ciceroth's thought process was more that if Aslath truly wanted him there she'd have asked him to come. If she needed him to chase someone off with flame he would. Otherwise, he would wait, and give her space. He wasn't clingy, he wasn't insecure, and any curiosities he had would be soon answered by his rider showing up to watch. Rysmine asks that I tell you thank you and says that he will -- Anything else he might have said was abruptly stopped by the sight of another bronze and Ciceroth swiveled his head around to get a better look at the new arrival, his wings curling downward to prevent then from hindering his vision. He was too lazy to move.

Was that Salenth? Curiosity whirled through Ciceroth's eyes; curiosity and nothing more. No anger, no resentment or jealousy, mere interest. He curled up and turned around to croon before greeting the other bronze with a simple, yet undeniably courteous greeting, Welcome back, Salenth. It is good to see that you are well. In that particular instance 'well' meant alive, but never the less, Ciceroth was more polite than to outright say that. He laid his head back down and flopped over, making no effort to move. Aslath could handle herself with Salenth if she needed to, and he was fairly sure that she would be glad to see her former mate. If he should've been jealous, someone forgot to tell Ciceroth; possessiveness of other dragons just was not in the bronze's nature. The only person he was possessive of was his Ka'rys. So it had been, so it would always be. Fortunately he was in no real danger of having to share Ka'rys any time soon.

A flash of green made Ciceroth lift his head, and Ophelie landed on one of his neck ridges before curling up. Ka'rys had doubtlessly requested she leave when he went to the area surrounding the Sands; well enough, since Aslath did not like firelizards when she was clutching. Rumbling quietly to the little green, Ciceroth allowed his eyes to fall closed, relaxing completely.

Ka'rys, meanwhile, found his way up into the Stands surrounding the Hatching Sands... and pointedly circled to be on the side furthest from Shmee. He'd never been terribly fond of her and recent weeks hadn't improved his opinion of the queenrider; some part of him wanted to strangle her at times. Minimal exposure was usually best. While he was sure that he was capable of being polite to her at all times, there was no denying that he definitely needed something to drink after being exposed to her presence for more than five minutes. He doubted Shmee wanted him anywhere near her, either, so it would be beneficial to them both. He found his way to an area that was relatively empty and then turned to offer Aslath a formal bow; perhaps unnecessary, but at the same time, Ka'rys tried to always treat Aslath with respect. Her rider was much more difficult to be pleasant to, but Aslath was a nice dragon. Shame Shmee didn't pick up more of her personality traits.

Right after he made himself comfortable, he recognized Salenth descending to the Sands and raised an eyebrow. Salenth meant S'rei which meant maybe someone could knock it into Shmee's head that he was alive. Maybe she'd stop being such a nuisance then? Where was he, though...? Ka'rys looked around for any sign of the other bronzerider, his attention most efficiently distracted. If only Ophelie could have helped -- she was remarkably good at sneaking around...

Ciss? Is S'rei here?
Salenth's? I assume so...?
Ask?
Find him yourself.

Well, that was just... magnificently unhelpful. Ka'rys scowled and turned to shoot a dark look in the general direction of Ciceroth, before turning and walking away from his spot to hunt down S'rei. Maybe he would go find Shmee and then he could talk to him there. Even if it did mean... ... exposure to her.