Egg Touching

[stolenhart]

Crescentia, Fakir, Daevon, Alowiha, Beyral, Murtur, Aimry, Istel are the only candidates allowed to post here until I get Candidate Applications for the other candidates.

T'ran had woken up this morning, gotten dressed, filched a fresh roll from the kitchen and went to see Gimna as he did every morning. There was still no change in the Weyrwoman's health. Her lips were an icy blue and the shallow breathing hurt his ears. She was just barely conscious, she knew who he was but anything beyond a simple nod would speed her breathing up. As T'ran left the Master Healer shook his head, still no hope. They said her heart was failing, that it was pumping too much blood for no effect and was wearing itself out. The yellowing of her eyes meant her liver was shutting down, all the Records indicated that much. They were still Searching for some medication, some powder or plant who could help her. The Healers doubted anything would cure her, but help her live a somewhat useful life, for the dragon's sake. As long as Gimna was alive and could make decisions, and Vandyith remained in good health, then the South would not fear their Jr. Weyrwoman.

From Gimna's weyr he strode down the Hallway to the Sands, emerging in the ancient volcano bowl where the heat hit him like a brick in the stomach. Vandyith lay spread out on the Sands, facing Gimna's direction, the gold egg between her front legs, tail curled around the rest. This morning she did not growl at him, she merely looked his way before turning back to her quiet staring. Perhaps today would be a good day. }Knymawth, will she let the candidates onto the Sands today?{, he asked his bronze. From his post near the entrance, Knyamwth rose up to look at his mate.

Vandyith would you allow the children to come onto the Sands to look at your eggs?, T'ran had the bronze refer to the Candidates as children, the gold would look more favorably on it. She did not answer, instead she flicked her tail against an egg shell, thumping it solidly. In the last sevenday, Vandyith rarely spoke. It was if she knew the end was coming and had gone feral. A scary concept for a dragon. Bring them mine. We may send them away but bring them. T'ran nodded. Perhaps Knymawth could talk the gold into a short flight this afternoon. She had lost muscle tone and despite her food being brought to her, she'd lost weight. Vandyith looked so unhealthy at the moment.

It did not take long for T'ran to find the Headwoman, to send out riders to pick up the female candidates, he could not go after Crescentia like he promised Knymawth was needed here, and to gather them just out of sight of the Hatching Sands. It was just after midday that T'ran stood waiting for the gathering of Candidates, to explain to them the peril of today. He was as nervous as green boy before a battle but that is what today was, a battle. If Vandyith decided to kill the Candidates he and Knyamwth would be fighting her. And to top it all off, Hallek's new Weyrsinger and his apprentice were to be here to chronicle the event as well. Shard it all between.

[headwoman]

Arosia was not really, truely expected to be picked up by a Dragonrider at all too soon. Or rather, not until the eggs were hatching. SHe thanked the Rider and Dragon when she was dropped off in the Weyrbowl. She found her way easily to where she could see T'ran waiting at the Hatching Sands entrance. She squared her shoulders a bit when she approached. "Good day, Bronzerider T'ran. I hope bronze Knymawth is faring well today."

It wasn't a question, but more of a statement, but a courteous one. She didn't mean no disrespect in not addressing him as Weyrleader, but from her point of view, the Weyrwoman was gone, and with it, his title as Weyrleader. She hoped he didn't get angry about it, but it was just how she looked at it.

Just then, her green firelizard, Sivia flew in to land on her pet's padded shoulder. Sivia eyed T'ran warily. Arosia simply smiled at T'ran, a bit on edge about seeing the clutch up close. "Any idea to know how far along the eggs are?"

[stolenhart]

He nodded towards her though he didn't say anything for a moment, instead watching another Candidate approaching in the distance. "Oh? The eggs?", he asked, his attention turning back to her. "Fairly close to Hatching, I would say within the next sevenday or two", he answered her. And that was a good guess. Today was a good day so far, Vandyith hadn't growled, snapped or snarled at him at all today and the eggs were hard enough the Candidates could see them at least. He was itching to tell her about the firelizards but that would wait for a moment, it looked like the candidate approaching now also had one.

Istel came to a stand still beside Arosia, a quirky smile on his face. "My lady", he gave her a courtly bow, chestnut curls shining darkly in the sunlight. The Grounds were in a topless volcano bowl, half of it was covered by a wooden pavillion but the rest was left open for the sun to warm the Sands up. Afterall the pavillion was for the Weyrwoman, not candidates. "Your beauty takes my breathe away. Weyrleader, your handsomeness", Istel started, "Yeah yeah, lose your breathe and you'll pass out Istel", T'ran replied, rolling his eyes. He'd known about Istel for Turns so he knew not to take the boy seriously, though with Istel you never could tell. He had no doubt Istel would love to climb into his bed. "The others should be here in a moment and then we'll get started", he explained while Istel batted his eyes at Arosia in a flirtatious manner.

[fauxfox]

Faranth help him, if he didn’t get used to this heat soon he was going to have to turn nocturnal, not that the stifling nights were really much better. The days he spent surviving on breeze to breeze, and his nights were restless and sweaty from the stifling heat. To a boy that was more used to bundling himself in endless layers to shelter from the Northern chill it was a cruel contrast, with little relief since daring to stray outside without sufficient shelter was baiting the likelihood of sunburn. A step or two in front of him, Josef fanned himself with one of the delicate, palm fans that local craftsmen made a minor fortune in, evidently still suffering from the same climate shock that his apprentice was, and looking far from content. Aimry wisely kept a respectable distance, letting his feet follow in the middle-aged mans footsteps with ease of practise.

Neither of them had expected to be called from the records room at midday, let alone by one of the Headwoman’s assistants with news from the Hatching Sands. Summons from the Weyrleader, no less. Josef’s immediate reaction had been scorn at the notion of an egg touching, and moreover aggravation that they were required to attend and observe what was surely to be a bloodbath. Everyone had heard about the unfortunate candidate that had so nearly been killed for the simple offense of cleaning the stands, what in the two moons was the irate queen going to do to those who voluntarily invaded her precious clutch? He made some effort to appear impassive on the matter, but privately Aimry was happy to bear witness. So few people were allowed a glimpse into this delicate facet of weyr life, it was only fair that he got a glimpse of what he sang about in so many ballads and folktunes.

Even allowing half a candlemark Aimry could tell they were one of the first to arrive in the quiet, clandestine little passageway behind the Hatching Grounds. This was little surprise, considering that a number of candidates had needed to be fetched by dragonwing, apparently; the unknown pawns in T’ran’s hatching game. It would be the first time that all the candidates hoping to stand for the vital event would be together, and so a necessary risk as far as the Harper pair were concerned. Hallek would want to know details on these bright young things if they Impressed, particularly the girl that won the attention of that coveted young gold. Aimry didn’t envy whoever earned the so-called ‘honour’; there was no fun in being someone’s political puppet.

They’d agreed on tactics before leaving the records room. Josef would do the documenting while his apprentice… mingled, using the advantage of his peer group to learn details on the candidates themselves. Needless to say, it was an aspect of the job Aimry wasn’t particularly looking forward to, especially considering their high-ranking babysitter. The small seventeen-year-old had yet to meet T’ran in proper, Josef had been the one to swap pleasantries with their Weyrleader when they’d been assigned to Southern, and honestly he felt a little… nervous. Was he like Hallek, calculated and leering behind a feline smile, or really as noble as people around the weyr claimed? Did the leaders look similar – did he? Irritated, he swallowed such gallingly pointless thinking, scrubbing a hand through his mahogany hair in frustration for the growing heat the closer they came to the ‘Grounds. He doubted he’d make a good impression if he fainted right there on the sands.

The Weyrsinger rounded the last corner a couple of moments before Aimry did, glancing over the two youths that preceded them before bending into a brief but courteous bow. Stopping half a step behind his superior, the apprentice did likewise. “Weyrleader,” Josef greeted respectfully. “I was surprised to receive your summons. Has Lady Gimna's health improved?” Aimry for his part remained silent, giving the pair of candidates a shrewd once-over, his view of T’ran half blocked by his master. He hoped for the clutch’s sake that there were more available hopefuls than this.

[shouriko]

Daevon had heard the quickly spreading news, particularly from the Headwoman, that they were going to be possibly touching the eggs. He could have sworn that the hatching grounds had been off limits on the pain of death by angry gold dragon. That the gold was unhealthy, unhappy, and not of the right mind. There were also rumors about the condition of the Weyrwoman Gimna and how she was to blame. Daevon was never one for rumors, but he heard them none the less and it made him just as curious as the others. Still, it had been a message from the Weyrleader and that meant that they were to go and see about it.

He followed along with the others at an easy, relaxed pace. It was easy for him to keep up with his long legs and long reaching strides. Daevon just put his hands in his pockets and went on his merry way with the group. They chatted to each other and just as Aimry had said, were indeed making bets. Betting on the amount of colors and which eggs might hold which color, and of course who would impress and who would be mauled. To make it more grim, it included those who would survive and live past the mauling and who wouldn't. Daevon didn't agree with such talk, he ignored as best he could and wore a grimace as be beared with it.

Then there it was. Daevon had seen firelizard eggs a time or two, but dragon eggs were nothing like them. They were very large eggs and very variable in color and size. He fancied that they probably each had a different feel and he actually felt a bit eager for touching them, if they were indeed able to. Just seeing them was a gift in its own way. Then he saw someone he didn't know would be there and he smiled and raised a hand as he greeted him.

"Aimry!" Daevon hurried up a bit to meet with the harper.

[shouriko]

All the others were so excited and so loud about it. Some would look his way to tell him and try to get him to join, but as soon as his gray eyes met theirs, they turned away from him. Apparently he was becoming known as Fakir the kill-joy. He couldn't help being able to contain his excitement. Like them, his heart also beat with the thrill and anticipation, yet he also knew that it might not happen at all. He was not going to get his hopes up for nothing. It was just silly and irresponsible.

Fakir still gathered himself together and followed behind everyone else. He knew how to get there and if he fell far behind, it would not bother him in the slightest. All the less noisy and all for the better. Since arriving at Southern Weyr, he had the majority of his physical labor chores in assisting the smiths and the rest were simply maintenance of the Weyr grounds. Not unlike home, he stood out with his silence and quiet, observant stares. He was already the black sheep despite his age and how the others talked with him and worked with him. They were a unit, not as family, but as workers. As much as he might not like them, he still had to get the job done, so he only seldom pointed out when they were wrong or had done something less than satisfactory.

With T'ran promised to be there, he felt a little better about being in the group. There were few he liked and some barely bearable to be around. Besides, he knew T'ran for the man searched him and he felt that he had good character and was a person to aspire to be like. Though he kept these thoughts to himself entirely. Even when he saw the Weyrleader, he remained silent and joined the others who group around him, though he did notice the other boy and the girl and a part him was a bit jealous. Only a little bit.

[Femisis]

That particular morning, to keep herself busy, Cresce had opted out of getting a new gather dress made with her mother and sister(She already had one, how many gather dresses do you NEED?) to instead go out for a ride on her runner. It had been a while since she’d been out with him and there was no way she was going to stand around waiting for a dress. She’d rather stink like a runner than smell like a flower, anyway. Waving a greeting to the stable hands, she moved down the aisles until she found Battle’s stall. The draft runner greeted her with a snort and a nudge, drawing a laugh from the blond. “I know, it’s been a while, but we’re going to be out ALL day.” She promised him, patting him on the flank as she saddled the beast. He wasn’t really a riding horse, but she’d wanted him and no other, so she got him.

She mounted once she brought Battle outside, enjoying the way he carried her easily, not that she was heavy or anything. They had just passed outside the walls of the hold when the messenger came galloping after them. Cresce considered trying to outrun him, but decided against it. It might be something important, after all, though it usually wanted.

“T-there’s a man asking for you, Lady.” The messenger called when his runner pulled abrest of Battle, his own runner looking rather skinny in comparison. “He says it’s urgent. He’s from the Weyr.” He added in an undertone and Cresce’s eyes widened. The hatching? No, couldn’t be, not so soon… but maybe? “Don’t just stand there, let’s go.” She practically snapped as she turned her own steed back toward home to a whinny of protest. She hated being called a liar, but the dragons were just a BIT more important right this moment than a morning ride.

The rider was waiting in the courtyard when they returned looking rather impatient. His Bronze seemed more amused than anything, watching the girl as she handed her mount off to the stable hands. “Another day, I promise.” She murmured to Battle, petting the runner’s nose affectionately before turning to address the rider. He beat her to it, grunting something along the lines of, “Touching, come on,” before practically throwing her on his dragon’s neck. They were off in an instant despite her protest where the cold of between killed any complaints she was going to make.

Moments later she was dropped off in the Weyrbowl, giving the Bronze a scratch on the eyeridge in thanks before being led off to the sands by who she thought was the Headwoman. “I thought you were going to come get me.” Cresce said wryly to T’ran, her legs having returned to feeling like legs by the time the sands came into view. “Though I guess you were busy, huh. How’s Knymawth?” She added before moving to stand by Arosia. She didn’t know any of the candidates, not even by their faces, so it didn’t really matter who she stuck with.

[headwoman]

"Oh," she replied to T'ran's statement about the eggs. Arosia looked Istel in the eye. "Save it, Istel." She turned her attention back to the others that were gathering. Sivia chirped when a newly dropped off girl walked over to stand beside her. "Quiet, Sivia." She smiled politely at the other girl. "Hello, I'm Arosia and this is Sivia." She could tell by the girl's clothing that she came from a good family. Hopefully the girl wasn't full of herself, she hoped.

[stolenhart]

"This is not the Hatching", T'ran replied to Cresce imperiously, nostrils flaring as he felt a temper coming on. Young girls always tried his patience, you couldn't get them in bed for fun nor could you teach them a lesson like they deserved. "It is merely the Touching and Knymawth was needed here. And he's fine, fit as a racer", he replied glancing over the Candidates assembled. He saw Istel slowly work his way towards the two Harpers but for what T'ran couldn't possibly imagine. There was no way the younger boy was even interested in what Istel had to offer. And speaking of the Apprentice, he looked very familiar.

It had been Turns since T'ran got his scar so his face had altered subtley over the turns but when he looked at Aimry he thought he saw something of his brother in the boy's face. But then it had also been Turns since T'ran saw his brother as well, since the last Hatching Feast. T'ran refused to go to Lidal Hold after all and he'd never been Weyrleader before, to be congratulated by his brother. "First things first, the firelizards have to go. I am trying to keep this as quiet and as calm as possible and they are a distraction. Send them off to the dining cavern, if I catch one near the Sands, I'll let Vandyith kill it".

His hazel green eyes dared anyone to say anything about that as he continued. "Knymawth managed to get here away from the majority of the clutch so you boys shouldn't have too much of a problem touching the eggs. Go slowly, go quickly, try to keep the talking to a minimum. Don't linger over one egg", he paused, corner of his mouth lifting, "Girls Knymawth is trying to get her away from the gold egg, so just sit in the Stands for now until we see what we can do about it", he informed them. He closed his eyes, making a quick connection with Knymawth who had managed to get himself between the clutch and the Gold and was currently trying to snuggle up to her. "Alright, let's go", T'ran turned and headed for the Sands.

Istel had just sent Hiatus away as he approached Aimry, a pleasant smile on his face. "Weyrharper", he gave a respectful nod to the older man before turning youthful eyes to Aimry. "Planning to walk on the Sands?", he asked, his face a dream to real to be true. In fact all of Istel was a dream to real to be true, the boy had looks no doubt about it.

[fauxfox]

They arrived in drips and dribbles, identifiable by the steady murmur of excitement and gossip that surrounded them with a tangible miasma. Aimry cocked an ear to the nearing horde but kept his eyes forward, using the advantage of their arrival to analyse their honourable nanny. He was a fairly tall, well built man, with the air of someone that had seen it all, survived it all, and intended to mete it all out on anyone who dared cross him. It was difficult to see the similarities to the Lord Overholder underneath the prominent scar that commanded his features, but there was something about the powerful assuredness that both leaders seemed to have in common – not that either man would likely appreciate the comparison. But despite his Southern tan, broad shoulders, and sandy hair, there was a familiar feel about the oddly golden cast to the Weyrleader’s eyes that was familiar.

He wasn’t expecting to be recognised by any of the gathering candidates, and looked in the direction that he’d heard his name with some bemusement until his eyes found the unmistakable height of his acquaintance. “Daevon,” he replied by way of greeting, smiling slightly at the contrast between the Herder and his fellow candidates, though more vexing was the fact that many of these young un’s were taller than he was. Detecting the surprise in the older boy’s voice, he explained, “We’ve been called upon to bear witness.” Aimry inclined his head – politely, of course – to include his master, who had fallen stoically silent when the Weyrleader did not reply. It was safe to assume that Gemna was not, as he enquired, improved, especially considering the stern lecture the bronzerider opened with. Apparently gold Vandyith was not as gracious as they might have hoped, either.

Josef nodded in reply to another candidate’s greeting, passing his apprentice a curt glance before moving off to take a seat in the Stands, not too far from where the girls had been instructed to sit. Left to make his own observations, Aimry turned his attention from Daevon to the boy that had approached him with a discerning browse for the looks on offer. The youth was a sight and, more to the point, he knew it. Istel, was it? It was certainly the name he seemed to remember the girl candidate dismissing along with his flattery. Nonchalant, he shrugged. “Walk the Sands, maybe, but I think I’ll be staying a somewhat safer distance from our… delightful Queen than you lucky wherries – sorry, candidates.” He grinned mildly to take the sting from his quip, but it was more sardonic than earnest. As hopefuls began to filter onto the Hatching Grounds under T’ran’s guidance, Aimry followed, arms crossed and honeyed eyes narrowing as the brilliant light of the ‘Sands razed them after the passageway’s gloom.

[shouriko]

Well, Aimry hadn't forgotten who he was, but he did not seem very eager to talk. He was probably busy and from what he had been able to over hear, found that he was not far from the truth. He was there to observe and document what was going on. It seemed like a rather noble thing to do, but Daevon pondered whether or not Aimry actually wanted to be a candidate himself. The way he spoke of candidates and the like and the general interest he showed towards them made him think of that. Still, Aimry seemed to like being a harper and even if he was a candidate, couldn't he still have some hand in music? Ah, the thoughts of a young county man.

He paid close attention to what T'ran told them and he instantly felt nervous. Should they really touch the eggs if Vandiyth was so irritable and unhealthy? Would such stress be good for her or even for her rider, Gimna? Daevon's brows knit together with concern and he hesitated as some of the others moved towards the eggs. He wanted to touch them, yes, but not at the expense of the gold dragon and her rider. It was not right in his mind.

Daevon seemed to drag his feet as he approached the clutch with the last of the boys while the girls, few as they were, went into the stands. He glanced at them, looked to Aimry, cast a quick glance over T'ran and finally rested his eyes on the eggs themselves. He was curious and finally as he reached the eggs, he found himself before one and reached out with a tentative hand to feel the slightly smooth, but uneven surface of the egg.

[stolenhart]

Alowiha listened to T'ran with half an ear, she was more interested in the young Apprentice Harper and his Master than she was in the eggs. Why couldn't she have gotten a job like that when she was an Apprentice? No, Lord Lidal gave it to some Northern wherry-brain who probably didn't know which end of an instrument to hold. She rolled her eyes at him, flicked her shoulder knots, they indicated she was a Journeyman Harper, and headed for the Stands.

**
"Ah but you don't have to touch, just walk. Weyr lore says just stepping foot on the Sands while they are shelled leaves a big enough mark", Istel replied with a shrug, "As for us wherries, that's what we might be if Vandyith eats us", he winked, big sooty lashes laying against his cheek for a moment before he laughed at the small joke. Then he dashed off, coming to a rest beside a little egg that no one else was interested in for the moment.

The surface was hard as a ceramic bowl but it was pitted and scarred across the outer layer. It felt like he was rubbing sandpaper but then it shoulder, sand still decorated the top of the egg. "It's squeaking", he shouted unable to contain himself. In a second a quick huff erupted from the other side of the stands. "Keep her calm Knymawth", T'ran's voice was calm and authoriative. There was a gentle murmur of a humming dragon and the tension eased. "Istel, be quiet", T'ran ordered the boy.

[shouriko]

Fakir had hardly touched an egg. He was just about to his fingertips with just a tiny space between him and the egg. It was at that moment that the candidate Istel shouted something about it squeaking and he tore his gray eyes from the egg to the candidate. Quickly he looked for T'ran and already he was going about with his business. Fakir looked back at the egg, but retracted his hand. If what Istel said was true, then he didn't need to touch the egg, or any one of them. He took a few steps back and retreated from the eggs with some degree of respect for the new situation that had suddenly emerged.

It was always best to stay calm when things changed and turned and you didn't know what exactly was happening. In this case, Fakir was sure that this meant that the eggs were hatching. He remembered some old songs about new life and humming dragons from his younger years with harpers. This could be what they meant. Dragons must hum when the eggs were about to hatch, like a precursor for the candidates, and indeed it was new life because the eggs were hatching. It made perfect sense.

When Fakir thought of it like that, he found himself feeling a bit nervous. His palms were getting sweaty and that was not from the heat alone. Furthermore, the pace of his heart had increased and it thumped heavily against his ribcage as if trying to burst out of it. Fakir could never recall ever feeling this kind of anxiety before.

[Femisis]

Cresce couldn’t help but snort in amusement at T’ran’s apparent change of temperament, though she had to cut him some slack. He was probably under a lot of stress, truth be told, but that didn’t mean he had to act like he was better than everyone else. “He needs to pull the stick out of his ass.” She muttered quietly to Arosia. The girl had just introduced herself, but now really wasn’t the time to make friends. She’d do that if she was going to be staying at the Weyr. What was the point if she was just going to have to leave? “I’d send her off. He means it.” She warned, looking at the other girl’s flitter for a moment before her attention returned to T’ran. That, and she wouldn’t put it past the Queen to eat it if even half the rumors she’d heard were true.

Her eyes took on a hardened look when the girls were told to go sit in the stands, but not because of that. No, it was because it was being implied that they weren’t to touch the other eggs. That was a load of crap. She was going to touch at least a few of them even if she had to sneak back in to do it. There wasn’t any reason for them to NOT touch the eggs, right? So it wasn’t like she was defying a direct order, unless she was out of the loop.

“Shards this is frustrating.” She grumbled once she’d sat down, brushing some dirt from the leg of her riding breeches. She hadn’t had time to change once they’d gotten back to the hold, not that she minded. These weren’t her nicest clothes by far, but they were of good make and, above all, comfortable, so she had no complaints. She didn’t have anyone to Impress, at least not right now. It was that golden hatchling whose attention she needed to catch, or maybe a little Green. Who would know until it happened?

She’d been letting her attention wander, but when one of the boys (She had no idea what his name was.) shouted that one of the eggs was squeaking, she tensed like a bowstring in a moment. Shards, were they really hatching NOW? Cresce wasn’t the type to fear much, but this was one of those times when she felt a bit of fear coiling in her belly. Faranth, she’d only ever seen a few dragons in her life and only two up close. Then again, she’d stood up to a Bronze before… “Are they hatching?” She asked aloud and not to anyone in particular, proud that her voice was more even than she felt right now.

[stolenhart]

T'ran walked straight over to Istel, "Shards Istel, really? Of course it's squeaking, it means the hatchling is viable and alive", he rolled his eyes. "You ought to know that, I ought to throw you out of here for being an idiot. Do you know what could have happened? And I would have let it", he shook his head, go touch another egg and if it rocks don't say a word", he rubbed his temples as the younger boy gave him a cheeky grin and skedaddled off to another egg.
***
"You think? Welcome to the Weyr though", Alowiha replied to Cresce's sentence of fristration, "Just like the College, women have to work twice as hard to get half what the men get", she rolled her eyes, "And we still get the hard jobs". She settled her long frame on the Stands and glanced downwards towards the muttering pair of dragons. Shards they were larger than the green that had Searched her and it made her slightly nervous. Would the new gold be that big as well? Or even bigger?
***
T'ran had made his way over to the Stands, the way Vandyith had spread her eggs out it was going to be nearly impossible for the girls to go touch the gold egg without walking past the temptation of the other eggs. He'd have to think on it but at least it didn't look like Vandyith was going to give up her daughter so maybe it would be a worry he didn't need. So help him if he caught a girl touching an egg, he shook his head to dispel the thought.

"No", he answered her, having caught her question, "The hatchlings just squeak when it's noisy this close to Hatching. They still have another sevenday or two", he told the girls, sitting on the bottom bleacher to relax for a moment. With Knymawth between Vandyith and the candidates he could afford to relax a little, after all there wasn't anything the boys could do to the eggs now. The shells were too hard.

[shouriko]

Daevon was practically oblivious to what was going on and the frantic thoughts of the others. He had overheard Istel's nervous cries, but he was calm about it. Really now, if they had been hatching wouldn't everyone be rushing to the hatching grounds to watch? Wouldn't the eggs be moving and shifting in the sands where they sat? Clearly seeing that they were still and warm was enough for Daevon to accept the quiet little squeaks that even he heard as just life within the shell. In this way he found dragon eggs larger than firelizard eggs, but almost identical in behavior to wherry eggs. They too squeaked and chirped when close to hatching and with that in mind, he was much more comfortable in being among the eggs. Each one he touched lightly and gently with his large, calloused hands and he smiled at them. Some felt smoother than others, some were rough and gritty as if covered with sand he could not see. Their colors were unique and varied and he found himself liking each and every one of them.

He looked back at some of the others, all jittery from Istel's movement and cries. Surely they knew that it was all right else T'ran would not have had them come. Daevon was making it around the eggs and was probably the closest to the gold and though the bronze was with her, he could see the gold egg that the girls were brought for. Would they get to touch it while the gold so desperately clung to it with such a possessive hold? In that way he felt badly for them because at the moment all that they were able to do were watch. They all probably wanted to touch the eggs as well.


----------------------------------------------------------------------


Fakir listened closely to T'ran, his ears strained to take in his words. Istel had just jumped at something so simple and as such those nearby had jumped to conclusions. Even he did. Fakir was a little embarrassed now for his actions, but he was still just three steps away from the egg he had wanted to touch first. If they were not going to be hatching, then it would be all right to touch them. They were just healthy and alive if they made any noises. He stepped back up to the dark colored egg and reached out to it again. His hand hovered for a moment until at last he swallowed the remainder of his anxiety and let his sweaty palm rest against the shell of the egg.

He smiled then, marveling at the unique texture of it. Ahiru's egg had felt amazingly smooth, but the dragon egg felt like there were many stipples across the surface. His gray eyes flashed to the egg beside it and he touched that one as well. It was not the same as the first. This one felt a little rougher, as if the stippling were larger and more spread out. He went to a third and this one too was different. Each egg had a different texture, though so slight that one could only see the difference in color, they also felt different. It amazed Fakir that they were not all smooth or rough, but immensely varied.

[fauxfox]

The escalation in heat was immediate and striking, but where the rest of the eager flock adjusted effortlessly, perhaps driven by excitement more predominant than any change in climate, Aimry had to hesitate in order to allow his inexperienced body to acclimatize. Curiously breathless he reached to deftly sacrifice a couple of buttons for the good of his temperature, deepening the v-neck of his pale shirt. He might have un-tucked the sharding thing too, but Josef caught his eye disapprovingly. Decorum would not be sacrificed for comforts sake - not while his wherry-eyes were watching, anyway, and most especially not with women present. The attentions of one young lady in particular had not escaped Aimry, though with a glance and a tiny smirk he appeared to dismiss her, and neither had the Journeywoman Harper knots she so flagrantly flaunted. Faranth help him, he could hear the disdain circulating her pretty head from here.

“Hall lore says a true Master Harper can tell the timbre of a drum just from looking at the hide on a herdbeast, doesn’t make it anything more than crackdust,” he retorted dryly, apparently unmoved by Istel’s attempt to unnerve him – or whatever the youthful lad thought he was doing by trying to convince him that stepping on the sands alone was going to have any effect other than giving him heat stroke. The boy, however, had trotted merrily off to take full advantage of the egg touching, as had Daevon and the rest of the assembled candidates… all save the girls. Left to his own devices, Aimry didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Whether out of reverence or perhaps Istel’s weyr lore really had got to him, the apprentice gave the eggs a wide berth, lingering in front of the stands, where the females were grudgingly perched.

Honestly, Aimry thought he was simply being smart. He wasn’t stupid enough to go fondling an irate dragons unborn children, no matter how much his palms itched with curiosity. Were those beige ovals as smooth as they appeared from a distance, or rough like a woodworkers sanding block? Were the squeaks that Istel yelled about really so detectable, was it possible to feel the pulse of growing life? As much as he had no aspirations for dragonriding, the want to satisfy that curiosity was undeniable. Tuning an ear into the conversation going on behind him in the stands, Aimry found his distraction. “Is that the dulcet sound of feminism I hear?” And from the lady-Harper, no less. Why wasn’t he surprised? “There’s a novel tactic. Hoping to move the Queen by appealing to her inner woman?”

[headwoman]

Arosia sent a silent command for her green, Sivia, to go and stay in the Dining Caverns. She felt sorry for the Senior Queen, having her rider sick and all. She listened intently to T'ran, and nodded at the other girl. At hearing that the girls were told they would have to wait, Arosia was not happy about that. She sent a firm command to Sivia again, telling her to stay where she was. Her eyes flashed with pent up anger. Women could hold their own well enough, just like men! Apparently, T'ran didn't give women any thought other than in the furs! She walked with the other girl and sat with her. She wasn't really following her, but just wanting some company with her green firelizard else where. "I hope they hatch soon, if they don't hatch now." Arosia spoke up, not really speaking to anyone in particular. It would be nice not to have to wait for the eggs anymore, and to finally see who all impressed.

[Femisis]

Sighing in both disappointment and relief, Crescentia gave T’ran one more look before turning her head to look at the girl talking to her, a different one than she’d been introduced to before. “Isn’t that the truth?” She replied wryly as she flipped her braid over her shoulder. “We work like dogs and get nothing in return. And thanks. I’m Crescentia.” She added with a nod to Alowiha. “At least the dragons acknowledge our worth, sometimes.” She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest with a frown. It wasn’t like were even allowed to touch the eggs other than the Gold, not that she was going to acknowledge that.

“Look what we have here.” She laughed as she looked down at Aimry. “Big man in the Weyr, are we?” She asked, swiftly standing up to approach the apprentice Harper. “So, what are you? The Master cleaner? Master shoe shiner?” She asked with a dismissive snort. “I guess the point I’m trying to make is that no one cares what you think. Maybe if you work for it like T’ran over there, we’ll care in a couple dozen turns.” With that, she gave the male a hard, open palmed smack across the face. It was hardly the punch she wanted to give him, but it made her feel better.

“Sharding men and their sharding opinions.” She muttered, going back to sit with Alowiha. “They’d better hatch soon so the new Queenrider can put all these stupid men in their place.” She grumbled, sparing Arosia a quick glance. At this point, she didn’t’ care who Impressed the Queen as long as they were willing to make some changes around here.

[Edward]

Murtur had not been in the Weyr all that long. He had yet to meet any other candidates. He felt like quite the loner, and that wasn't how he liked to feel at all. That was just a bad feeling in general. Walking around the Weyr, Murtur would be stopped by someone telling him that he was supposed to be headed over to the sands because they could now touch the eggs. This seemed to be a way for people to 'connect' with the eggs and Murtur thought that it would be quite fun.

After arriving at the sands, Murtur would take his first few steps onto them and would notice a few flitts flying out of the area. It seemed that they weren't wanted in the area, so Murtur would let his flitt know as best as he could. Sending images of the flitts that just went by, it seemed that he had gotten his point across because Azure would take off and head after the flitts that had left.

Looking around the sands, Murtur would notice that the girls that were here were seated on the ground whilst all the guys were walking around the sands touching an egg every now and then while some simply stayed back as if scared to approach the eggs. Murtur, however, decided that he wanted to try and touch one of the eggs himself since he had never seen an egg of a dragon. They were rather large for an egg. Whenever Murtur pictured an egg he sure didn't picture them at this height.

Reaching his hand out slowly, after walking up to one of the eggs, Murtur would place his hand upon the shell of the egg. This one seemed to be rather smooth to the touch with a rough spot here and there. Wanting to see if all the eggs were like this egg, seeing as they were all different colors, Murtur would head over and try to touch a different egg. He wasn't sure if the color of the egg had anything to do with the texture of it, and he didn't really care. He just wanted to be able to bond with the dragons before they hatched.

---

Beyral would be searched by the one that had been sent to gather up all the candidates in order to send them to the sands for touching. When Beyral finished readying himself, which wouldn't take long at all, he would notice the bronze flitt asleep. Seeing as he didn't want to wake him up, Beyral decided that he would simply leave the flitt in the room for now. He would be back eventually in order to take care of it.

Entering the sands, it seemed as Beyral was rather tardy for the touching. Last time that he had stood he had never gone touching the eggs. The teenager could only assume that the reason to touch the eggs would be so that they could get to know him. Beyral would scope the area out before he actually went about doing something. Looking around he would notice females on the stands while the males took a place on the sands. The current weyrleader was standing on the sand as well, but he seemed more like he was watching to make sure everything was okay. Continuing his 'search', Beyral would see the two dragons. For some time he would stare at the two before he focused once again to the eggs littered around the sands.

Having his heart set on a dragon, Beyral would come up to one of the larger eggs and place his hands on it. The shell was rather rough to the touch. Almost all over that Beyral moved his hands he could feel the course shell. it didn't seem that the shell was anything that special, but maybe it actually meant something. Moving on to another decent sized egg, Beyral would yet again place his hands upon the protection of the egg. This time around, however, the egg was completely soft. The only gritty spots he had found upon the egg was where sand was currently resting upon it. Beyral couldn't help but begin to assume that the texture meant something. He could have just been wrong, but every little detail seemed to matter to him at this moment.