Like Sands Through the Hourglass - Hatching

[stolenhart]

Silence surrounded the Weyr. Very dim green lights illuminated very little of the darkness that was a sleeping Weyr. It would have been a good night for attack, the only beings awake were the Watchdragons and their riders, but it was not an airborne enemy that was coming. Like a storm rising in the distance, a certain amount of tension was rising in the Weyr, though it was unknown to most of the human inhabitants. A sense of anticipation, as if something giant was holding it's breathe and trying not to exhale, something was coming.

In his weyr, T'ran tossed and turned the hot Southern air electrified with the sense of a mid-autumn storm coming in a few hours. With the heat a signal, it meant a lightening storm was more likely but despite the storm the Weyrleader rarely slept well anymore. There was too much weight on his shoulders and sometimes he felt as if his back would break. At least tonight, with the heat, he had another reason to toss and turn other than broken nightmares.

Just down the hall in the only occupied Weyrwoman's weyr, Gimna's eyes flew open as she exhaled loudly, "Oh". The Healer, constantly by her side leaned over, touching the Weyrwoman's forehead gently. "What is it dear?", a gentle old man, he'd been there for Gimna's birth, had been her first teacher and helped her repair dragon wings for turns. "T'ran", she whispered, fighting for breathe. The Healer gave a nod and turned to his Apprentice, "Fetch the Weyrleader, I fear it is the end", he whispered so Gimna could not hear him.

Down the short hall, through the Council Room the young boy ran. He did not knock on the door, but burst into the Weyr. Already half-awake with the Heat, T'ran sat up completely, knife in hand. As always the ex-soldier was ready for anything, "Healer Renik says come, he fears this is it", the boy replied. Without another thought, T'ran left the room, bare chest glowing a strange green in the dim glow lights. Outside he could just make out the sonorous hums of a dragon and he began to fear the worse himself. }Knymawth, prepare yourself{, he had thought to wake the bronze, but the dragon was already awake, startlingly awake, as if he'd been up for hours.

"Gimna?", he said, taking the chair by her bedside, holding her fragile hand in his. She was nearly skeletal in the bright glows of her room, fair skin so white it was nearly translucent. "T'ran, it is time", she replied, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "I am here my friend", he whispered, prepared to stand a death's vigil with her. Another dragon joined in the humming outside, and then a third, "You should not be", Gimna coughed gently. "Of course I should be, you are my friend", he answered, trying to soothe her. "You idiot", she laughed softly, "Not my death but their birth". Confusion crossed his face and then chuckling leaned forward, kissed her forehead gently and stood up. "Good Luck", she called softly after him, energy expended that she instantly fell asleep.

He roused the Headwoman from her own sleep, "Get the candidates dressed and ready, they are to meet me at the entrance of the Sands", he ordered her. She nodded, already moving to issue the orders. }Call out those riders that are going to fetch our spectators{, he ordered Knymawth. As soon as the thought crossed your mind I did, the bronze replied, he'd taken up the Weyrleader's dragon's spot on the Sands, watching as Vandyith sniffed her quaking eggs. He dressed himself quickly, making sure his feet were comfortable in his boots before heading to the entrance of the Sands. Already he could hear the beasts being butchered, the bakers getting ready for the feast, the first few gentle thumps of sandals on stone as the candidates headed his way. On the beachside entrance he could just see a dragon landing, dropping off a load of passengers. Maybe he would have good luck after all, despite the very early hour of the Hatching.

[shouriko]

Fakir was usually a very sound sleeper. It often took his brothers some shoving and shouting to rouse him. It was no different with the other candidates and the Headwoman. He was actually rolled right out of his cot and ended up landing on the floor with a heavy thud. He rubbed his head and opened his groggy eyes slowly with the blurred vision of people rushing and shouting at each other, even Ahiru was flying circles over his head.

"Get up you lout!" A white robe and a pair of thin sandals were flung at him.

Fakir pulled it off of his head and looked at it. Ahiru was clutching his sandals and humming and as that sunk in along with the rushing candidates and the white robes it as if a glow had been uncovered and a dark room was flooded with light. His gray eyes went wide and the sleepiness fled from them as she jumped up in realization that this was because of the eggs. They were hatching and as such it was time for him to become prepared for the chance to stand and be an option for the young dragons. Whether he was chosen, denied, or mauled was not up to him, but the dragons who emerged from the shells he had placed his palm upon.

"Right, Ahiru, I'm nearly dressed." Fakir said to the green firelizard who flew in an elliptical orbit around him, still holding tight to his sandals. "There, now let me have those!" He snatched the sandals and thrust them on his feet and grabbed the leather strap of his pet. "You stay with me, Ahiru."

With that done with, a white robed Fakir with slightly tousled black hair ran from the candidate barracks towards the hatching sands. Ahiru took her place on her master's shoulders and bug her claws in and wrapped her tail around his arm. He winced, but it was hardly painful enough to stop him. If he was searched, there had to be a reason and he would not want to be late. This was all a part of his job.

More importantly to Fakir, it would be a test to him as a man and it would tell him more about himself. If he impressed.

[Femisis]

Taskin Hold was rather quiet this time a night as most people slept, though some were awake doing various chores and such. The Lord and Lady slept quietly, as did their son, though there was movement in the girl’s room. Reren slept like a log, making loud, obscene snoring noises that made her sound like a dying wher. While she was used to the noise, Crescentia didn’t sleep, not from any sense of foreboding or that something was happening, no. Her back hurt and everything she’d tried hadn’t helped nor could she get in a comfortable position to find sleep. Thus, she settled for dozing most of the night, preferring to wait for morning to bother the healers. She just dozed off for a fifth(?) time when someone barged into the room with a glowbasket in hand looking frantic.

The noise woke Reren and she shrieked like a frightened wherry while Cresce merely muttered at the offender to go away. “Get up, both of you, and put on something nice.” Sere said urgently. She was still in her dressing gown, but she could get ready rather quickly. “There’s a Bronzerider outside waiting to take us to the Weyr. The hatching is nigh.”

Both girls jumped up in an instant, though Cresce seemed to be moving with a sense of urgency that was rarely seen in her. “Relax, dear, the eggs aren’t cracking JUST yet.” Sere laughed quietly. “And you’ll have to wait for the rest of us before we leave. You’ll get there soon.” She added before disappearing, presumably to prepare herself to leave.

“I can’t believe they picked YOU to stand.” Reren sneered once their mother was gone, though Cresce didn’t rise to the bait for once. She was busy pulling on the crimson tunic she’d set aside just for this occasion. She wanted to look nice, but wanted something practical. After the Touching (Or lack thereof considering Vandyith’s mood.), she’d gone about picking the perfect ensemble for the Hatching, settling on a crimson tunic, brown breeches and matching knee-high boots. She was just putting her hair into a braid when Reren tried again. “They should have chosen me. You’re just a stupid cow.”

Eyes blazing and hair forgotten, Cresce turned to glare at her half-sister. The insult hadn’t been a particularly good one, but nerves, frustration and a hurting back had gotten to her. “You’re the stupid cow. If they wanted you, they’d have asked for you.” She hissed, punching the dark-haired girl soundly across the face. The resounding crack was enough to turn a stomach, but fortunately for Reren the hit would only bruise and didn’t break her jaw.

Fifteen minutes later, Lord and Lady Taskin, Reral, Reren and Crescentia were adragonback for the Weyr, the trip between lasting no longer than a few seconds. The dragon had barely extended his foreleg before Cresce was off, heading toward the entrance of the sands. She took a couple of wrong turns, but kind Weyrfolk directed her to the right place. When she arrived, she nodded at T’ran, not trusting herself to speak. Nerves were getting to her and she really didn’t trust herself to speak. She wasn’t even angry with the Bronzerider, not really. He had other things to worry about other than being her ride. She was a bit disappointed to see that Alowiha wasn’t there yet, but maybe she was early. “Is Hallek going to be here?” She finally managed to ask T’ran, her voice low. She figured he would be, but it would be nice to know. If he was, whichever of them Impressed the Queen (If she chose, that is.) would be in danger in more ways than one.

[stolenhart]

He should have known Cresecentia would be one of the first females in line but it was a good thing he had everything ready for this event. "Here", he shoved a white robe and sandals at her, "The first cavern on the right, around the corner", he ordered her, "And yes", he set his mouth in a grim line as Istel and a few more boys dribbled in behind Fakir. "Go on Cresce or I won't let you on the Sands", he told her, waving towards the lit corridor where the Headwoman was standing, checking candidates coming out of the Weyr.

Alowiha had just walked out and several boys turned to look at her. "Morning Crescentia", she greeted the girl, a smile on her wide awake face. The white robe she wore went well with her coloring, making her skin appear like marble and her hair as black as sin, not to mention it was for a smaller girl than Alowiha so it was a bit more form-fitting than usual. Without her knots she looked like any Holder's daughter come for the gold egg instead of the protesting feminist from the college.

[shouriko]

Daevon was the kind of person whose intuition was so good that he often found himself waking for a reason he did not understand until later. Today was exactly one of those days. He awoke just moments before the Headwoman came bursting through the doors followed by a few assistants with the robes and sandals. For a moment, Daevon just sat there, completely bemused by the situation at hand. He ran his fingers through his long, sandy-blonde hair and looked around as candidates jumped from their cots and snagged the white robes and sandals that were being handed out.

"Hatching! Get ready you lot!"

"Don't sleep, get up! Get up!"

Daevon heard all this, he even dressed, though the robe seemed a bit short. Clearly such a thing was not meant for someone so tall as himself. Even the sandals felt a bit small on his big feet, he'd almost rather go barefoot. Yet for all of this, he stood there feeling the heavy beating of his heart and breathing slowly as he tried to maintain his calm. In the attempt to gain his bearings, he was swept away with the rushing candidates he was a part of and at the entrance he stopped. Hesitation filled him and he stood there at the edge looking it.

It wasn't that he didn't want to go. It wasn't that he didn't think that impressing was a good thing. Instead, he knew that once he entered, there was no going back at that point. He didn't know just how far he had truly come in more than just physical displacement. Daevon took a deep, shaky breath and took his first step onto the warm, golden sands of the hatching grounds. He'd have to be careful of young dragons who were in a frenzy and of the gold whose clutch was hatching. He'd have to accept rejection and be open of impression. It was a great lot to prepare oneself for.

Would he impress? Did he really want to impress? Was he ready for this? Daevon didn't know, but he bravely stepped onto the sands and tried to prepare himself that was inevitably out of his control and comfort zone.

[Femisis]

Crescentia was a bit taken aback when the robe and sandals were thrust at her, but she did protest having to wear them. “You’d better hope they fit.” She snorted, though it contained no venom. She was too tired and nervous to cause a scene and her back was still killing her. Taking a moment to stretch, she turned and quickly jogged off to put the robe on. “Hey,” She replied to Alowiha with a small wave. “Good luck.” She added before disappearing into the nearby cavern.

Five minutes later she was back, having simply pulled her robe on over her clothing and exchanged her boots for sandals. The robe was the right length, but it had been made for someone much bulkier than she and hung off her like a giant skin. “I look ridiculous.” She muttered upon returning to stand next to the harper girl. “Not exactly how I envisioned it.” The blond added ruefully. “As long as the dragons don’t mind…”

[icefire]

As soon as Forest got the vibe from everyone moving with excitement she bite Mirrium on the ear to get her up. Since she was on the side of her bed she had fallen from such a jerk to get up. "Meh..." She rubbed her back and ear as she yawn pushing a green who was trying to bite her ear again, away with a growl. "I a fine and awake Forest go away." She stated alittle harshly to her firelizard. She then had to calm her green firelizard who decided to flit back and forth chirping with worry and humming inbetween. As soon as Forest made sure her bonded was taken care of and okay she popped inbetween to head to what her owner thought to be the sands. She got up and went to ge the right outfit for the hatching and slid it on easily mumbling about ow stratchy it was and how it might ruin how she looked. She then shoved her feet into her sandles not bothering really be kind to the leather.

She took a deep breath and headed out turning towards where the sands were. As she neared the end of the tunnel a green form popped in from between to land on her shoulder quivering. She then ran the rest of the way to the sands. She stopped as she stood at the entrance panting. She stood a moment more to recover her breath before walking towards the others who were waiting for them to be aloud to enter the hatching sands.

[fauxfox]

Work didn’t stop just because the sun went down, though one could be forgiven for thinking so. It may have changed tone or changed direction, but rarely did it stop altogether, particularly for one as prone to insomnia and overtaxing as Aimry. Tonight’s ‘project’ was in fact a bluerider by the name of R’rick, whose dual purpose as one of the weyr’s healers meant that he was one of the few individuals with any kind of definite information on Weyrwoman Gimna’s condition. R’rick, he’d heard, liked warm furs and Northern wine, and the apprentice suspected that he’d be doing quite a lot of both before dawn reached the Southern beaches. They had already drained their first bottle, and though Aimry had made a concerted effort to give the rider’s glass the most attention he was starting to feel the far-off effects of intoxication himself. It was rather good timing, then, when the sounds of dragons calling to one another reached their ears, and the bluerider abruptly shoved himself bolt upright.

“The hatching!” blurted the drunken man blearily, and Aimry – who had been on the receiving end of a warm and liquor tinted kiss before his companion’s outburst – hastily gathered his wits. “What, now?” he pushed himself up on an elbow, to which the rather dazed older man shook his head slowly, adding a belated; ‘but soon’. Swearing, the Harper apprentice kicked his feet over the side of the bed and rose dexterously to his feet, pausing only long enough to jam his feet into his worn boots. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you Rick, but duty calls. Maybe we’ll finish this some other time?” The young man grinned briefly, already half-way to a hasty exit, and the hazy murmur he heard on the way out the door could have been an affirmative or a plea for more alcohol. Shards, this damn clutch was nothing if not badly timed. The halls outside the rider’s weyr were already heavy with activity; kitchen-hands rushing to make preparations for the feast, hosts rushing to greet incoming guests, candidates calling for robes or missing sandals. Josef was waiting for him when he finally made it, panting, to their linked rooms.

“Your gather clothes are on your bed and the drudges have already taken our instruments to the dining hall. I have spoken to Lord Hallek’s aide and he expects to meet with us immediately after the hatching. We will be seated directly behind him, so you will keep your smart remarks entirely to yourself, understand? Good, drink this.” The middle-aged Master held a goblet out imperiously, leaving Aimry little choice but to accept it or watch it clatter to the floor. Recognition sparked the moment the scent of the stuff hit him, and despite his mild grimace the boy accepted it and knocked it back in one, leaving the empty goblet distastefully on a shelf. It wasn’t the first time the older Harper had made the sobering draught ready for his return, nor even the first dozen-th. He might have found it a kindness if he didn’t know Josef’s sole motivation was to ensure his apprentice wasn’t slurring words or otherwise inebriated in front of respectful company, which rather soured the imitation of compassion. True to his word some drudge had evidently dug out his gather best as such a significant event deserved, and Aimry slipped in to it without complaint. The white shirt and black, formal trousers were form-fitting, with the addition of a harper-blue waistcoat and neckerchief that he had to re-tie three times before he was satisfied.

Apparently Josef had tired of waiting. A note next to his discarded goblet instructed that he meet his master at the stands while the man presumably helped welcome their esteemed guests, and Aimry was glad for the chance to escape the irritating duty and make his own way towards the spectator’s compound. His, however, made a curious detour down past the candidate’s barracks, to the back-entrance to the ‘Sands where the young hopefuls gathered in their sandals and tuber-sacks – sorry, robes. All trussed up and ready to be roasted, like virginal sacrifices to the Queen and her hungry children. He looked distinctly out of place, the Headwoman’s glare told him as much, but he held up a finger denoting he’d only be a moment before continuing, lapping up the atmosphere and satisfying his curiosity. Daevon was the first candidate he recognised, with Istel, the feminist bitch, and the journeywoman Harper nearby. “Good luck. If it’s any reassurance I hear they eat the younger ones first, the meat is tender.” He smiled sardonically, with a fleetingly amused look for the tall candidate’s short robes. “I’m joking, mind you. Here’s hoping that no-one is eaten, lest certain meals give our Queen indigestion.” And yes, that was a glance in Crescentia’s direction.

[stolenhart]

T'ran met the Apprentice Harper's eyes with a wary glance, "Either change your clothes or get up to the Stands Harper", he replied, admittedly letting the stress get to him today. This wasn't his first time presiding over a Hatching but it was the first time he was Weyrleader and he didn't have Gimna to keep him straight. And not to mention Hallek, and his family, had just arrived. T'ran decided not to notice him and turned back to the candidates. "Please make sure you observe the niceties today", he stressed to the group, eyes locked on Istel. Even if Vandyith wasn't paying attention, they still needed to behave.

"We are going in single file, boys first", he indicated, grabbing Istel and putting him in the front spot. "You better behave Istel or so help me", he shook his fist at the candidate who laughed. "Girls you'll be in the end, when you get to the gold egg, fan out around it. Make sure you bow to the Gold and to Lord Hallek in the Stands", he told them once more, retucking his shirt into his pants. "Remember positive thoughts the whole time, when you Impress take your Hatchlings there", he pointed to the beachside entrance where buckets of warm meat were being prepared by green glowlight. "You'll get further instructions then. Good Luck", he gave them all a once over, nodded to Istel and stepped aside.
**
Istel was a bundle of nerves and energy but he wasn't about to back away now. Already having Stood once he knew what was expected of him and it didn't surprise him when T'ran put him in the front of the line. He straightened his robe, tailored to him so it didn't look half bad, before stepping onto the Sands. He took five steps and turned to face the Stands, giving the Overholder his bow before standing up, taking five more steps and turning to bow to Vandyith.

The gold was actually more lively today, eyes narrow slits as she watched the candidates. It didn't seem the eggs were Hatching just yet except for the cracks and pop of subtle lines appearing in egg shells. And the gold didn't stop them. Once he was done with his bowing he lead the rest of the male candidates to their spots, ranging about the entire clutch. With only twenty-one eggs it was a small clutch and the fifty plus candidates felt so out of place.
**
Alowiha hated the white robe, it was too short by half, and too form fitting. And she stepped onto the Sands she heard the the looks and whispers from the predominantly male spectators. Why couldn't she have worn white pants and a tunic? But no, it was sandals and a white robe. She wanted to give her hair a tug but that a nervous gesture from childhood and she wasn't a child. She gave the Overholder is curtsy and then curtsied to the gold dragon before moving out of everyone's way. If Vandyith got possesive of her egg, Alowoha did not want to be near her.
**
Though it was early in the Hatching yet, it seemed that as the Candidates stepped onto the Sands a Hatchling could not stand it anymore. From one of the smaller eggs on the edges of the pile, a loud rendering clap sounded, a piece of shell went flying in the air and all eyes turned to the dark head that peered out of the whole. Long and gangly it was hard to see it's color in the glowlight of the Sands but it was dark, probably a blue given it's size and relative gangliness. It struggled in it's egg and after a few moments managed to free itself, laying spread-eagle on top of it's former home. It began to lick itself clean of the egg sack, revealing a very dark b lue with patches of wispy lighter blue on it's hide. There was a smattering of murmurs from the riders watching as the Hatchling cleaned itself.

[shouriko]

(*cackles* Now I can let my evil self out)


If had not been the first notified, picked up, and dropped right there at the entrance to the hatching grounds, he might have made it necessary to have words with his dear brother. Hallek was only disappointed to find that T'ran had been very punctual about him though and as such, he could not use that to gripe about. Besides, he still had to act the part of the devoted, kind, loving Overholder who was worried terribly about Weyrwoman Gimna. As such, he took his seat and waited for the candidates to arrive, the new warriors in the making, his new aerial soldiers.

Of course, he was also very eager to see who would impress the new gold. Hallek had big plans for the girl and she had best follow what he say else potentially face the same fate as Gimna. He had no qualms about that. If there was no gold, no Southern Weyrwoman, it would be all the more easier for him to control the Weyr and use them to his advantage. He would have the North with or without the support of some blasted woman.

With folded hands and a soft, smile planted on his face, he gazed as the candidates entered. So many young men, all of them ready and surely they were the best that Southern had to offer up to the Weyr. The girls that were assembled, he knew none of them and had hardly come across them, all except for one. Hallek knew of Crescentia, a half-daughter to a Holder and she was not one to be controlled. If she should impress, he was certain that they would play many an interesting game together behind the scenes. The others had been carefully kept secret and away from his prying eyes, but who was to say he did not have some inkling about them?

"It shall be a good and blessed hatching." Hallek said with a smile and eyes that seemed to agree but in a much different way.

[shouriko]

Now for certain Daevon was nervous. He could think positive thoughts forever and a day, but that was not what bothered him. He had never been to a hatching before. Sure, a hatching could be the same as birthing ovines and herdbeasts and the whole lot he had handled, but this was different. This was a dragon they were talking about and it didn't need help coming into the world, it only needed one person and they chose through their minds. They were intelligent, they had emotions, they could feel and understand pain. This was something he had never done before in all of his 19 turns of life!

Still, he could not turn back now. He had come this far and even though he was uncertain and he held in his doubts, he was not liable to speak for some time until the hatching was over. What would he do if he did impress? Daevon had forgotten all about that part. Even as they filed forward, he felt a lump rise up in his throat and all speech was taken from him in that moment. What would he do if he impressed? How did it feel? What happened to you?

He stood there, spread out amongst the boys and watched the eggs, his blue eyes wide in amazement at how the once still eggs now moved every which way. He even jumped a little at the first breaking of egg. It was a blue dragon and it just lay there a bit at first. Daevon's herder instinct told him that it needed to get up right away, but this was not a lamb. He suppressed it and balled his hands into fists. He had to remain calm and he would.

[shouriko]

"Easy, Ahiru." Fakir told the green firelizard, finally getting her to lessen her grip on his shoulder and arm. It hurt much less and he had a greater comfort then, though less distraction.

He was definitely one of the younger boys in the group of candidates, still smaller than many of them. Yet he was probably the only one who looked so incredibly calm. Even on the insides, though he was a little anxious, he was calm. The warmth of the hatching grounds was almost soothing, and he was sure that in time it would be suffocating, but for now he liked it. Fakir found that it was a good reminder of his father's shop and a part of him missed it.

Fakir stopped that thought right away. His father himself had wished him luck and sent him on his way. How could he want to go back? He had to do the best he could and discover just what it took to make a man a good man and if he had inside him just the right amount of whatever it was to be a dragonrider. Even his father said he'd make a better dragonrider than a smith and Fakir had never found his father to be in the wrong about anything.

He stood there with the others and just waited quietly, his grays not just seeing the eggs, but the people in the stands. This included Hallek, the Overholder, and Fakir could never quite place it but there was something about that man that made him uncomfortable.

[Femisis]

When they finally began processing in at the end of the boys line, Crescentia felt her nerves hit a peak. She wasn’t the type to panic, but when you were faced with baby dragons the size of large canines that could potentially kill you, there was reason to worry. Still, the thought of walking away with one of those killer baby dragons (or the Queen, she thought idly.) helped calm her, and the thought of burying a dagger in Hallek’s back helped even more. So, when she bowed to him, she made sure to keep eye contact and nasty little smirk on her face. Regardless of how the hatching turned out, she was going to watch him fall hard and fast.

“Why do they let him anywhere near the Weyr?” She murmured to Alowiha once she’d bowed to Vandyith. “He’s not welcome whether he’s got rank or not.” That much was true at least in her opinion, though she was sure there had to be others who hated him just as much as she did. Taking a deep breath, she moved a little closer to the gold egg, making sure to keep a good eight feet between herself and the egg. She wanted to be close, but she wasn’t stupid enough to get up close and personal with it. The mother was watching like a hawk and the hatchlings tended to be rather opinionated and… uncoordinated.

She couldn’t help but look over her shoulder as an egg cracked, releasing a rather attractive looking Blue. He was a lovely specimen, really, and she felt jealous for a moment. Then she remembered that she could possibly Impress him and relaxed. His hide was rather pretty, to be honest. It was nice in the fact that it wasn’t just one single color, but had lighter tones mixed in with it. It’d be even better if his personality matched his hide.

[fauxfox]

Aimry was perhaps one of the only young men on Pern that, when faced with the option of standing for candidacy or retreating to watch from the stands, was satisfied with the latter. In fact his first instinct was to snarl in the face of the implied offer like a wild feline approached with a leash, but he restrained the impulse and merely smiled thinly, humourless and far from tempted. Wisely he spared a last glance for the candidates as they excitedly assembled before withdrawing, breaking into a jog as he wound through the corridors leading around to the spectators entrance. He took the stairs down to his assigned seat and slipped nimbly into place next to his master even as the last of the boys trailed onto the sands, forming their characteristic, single-file semi-circle. Josef muttered something about cutting things fine but the apprentice chose not to hear him, his eyes already scouring the ‘Sands to pick out those hopefuls he recognized.

A glance in front of him found Lord Hallek, and while his expression was hidden from view there was a pleased note in his voice as he praised the favourable hatching that implied a complacent little smile. He determinedly ignored his half-brother, casting him mentally aside for later concern. For now he intended to enjoy the rare sight of a gold egged hatching; for while he had no interest in being hatchling fodder it didn’t make him any less curious about the proceedings. No sooner had he caught his breath than a great clap sounded out, commanding a hush like the very sternest of human leaders. The gangly little creature that was left in the crack’s wake was not immediately clear as any particular colour in the stark shadows that lingered about the grounds. Many as the glow lamps were there could be no eradicating the darkness completely, not at this time of night (or was it morning?), and the deep wells of gloom cast by the eggs only heightened the atmosphere.

Almost as if they’d been waiting for the most moodily set backdrop possible. The little dragon’s hide became distinctive the more he dried, revealing himself for a lanky but rather beautiful blue with frostings of lighter colour here and there. So far as tradition was concerned it was not a reassuring sign, and around him Aimry heard guests and riders alike murmur their poor predictions for what was to come, or despair over marks lost. Last he’d heard bronze was the lead runner for first to break shell – maybe more wishful thinking than actual expectations. Still, any healthy looking dragon was a boon to the weyr and Aimry was far from the only pair of eyes watching eagerly for the firstborn’s choice, and the arrival of more siblings.

[stolenhart]

Now that he was sufficiantly tended to, the blue stretched and yawned, revealing a mouth of knife-like teeth. They might be baby teeth but that didn't mean they couldn't take a man's arm off if the Hatchling was so inclined. Lucky for those involved he wasn't, at the moment anyway, with a snort of indignation to himself to get moving he started walking across the Sands towards the boys. He didn't growl or snap at anyone, merely stared down those who thought they were brave enough to put a hand on him. Once satisfied that no one was going to rush his decision, the blue began to go over each candidate present.

From the gathered eggs, a series of short tiny pops ensued and like sand befoer water an egg shell just seemed to disappear. In it's place was the first bronze of the clutch, his buttery hide complete with metallic sheen. Though he was covered in the viscous liquid of his egg sak, he was a true bronze. He spread his wings a bit, accidentally pushing a small egg over and stepped around it, impervious to the egg's struggle as it began to roll around. This bronze shoved his blue brother out of the way as he made for the boy's himself, snapping at one lad who put his hand too close.

The egg the bronze had knocked over sputtered in place before hatching, cracking neatly down the center. There was a brief smattering of approval for this dragon, a brown by the wet shade of his hide, he was wide through the chest, short and squat, obviously made for stamina over speed. He was going to be a large one too judging by his feet, they were as large as a table, or so they appeared and ungangly to say the least. With a creel, he tossed his head back watching his two older brotehrs scour the male candidates. Which one would he choose?

From the sidelines T'ran watched, his face impassive. For a blue to hatch first was a bad sign but a bronze and brown to follow was good. The blues had to hatch at some point after all and there were always more of them than bronzes. He wondered when the first green was going to show up, you could almost judge a clutch's gold egg by the green hatchlings, or so he had heard.

[shouriko]

Fakir felt his heart jump a little with every crack of egg shell. His gray eyes had left the stands and returned to the blue dragon, his hide a dark blue with a smattering of lighter blue. It was getting up and having seen the teeth, he had to admit it reminded him of his father's forge. It was something you kept clear of and watch your hands around. Fakir stood tall and watched as the blue approached them, watching them with wary eyes, each and every one of them. He was surprised to find that he felt the overwhelming feeling of being judged.

Was this the measure of their intelligence, even at such a young age? Fakir had felt this feeling before, not often, but he had felt it. Like he was being measure, weighed, like his worth and amount of merit was being tested. He hated this feeling. Fakir didn't like it, not when even he knew what he was worth to himself. Standing there, he wondered if the other boys felt the same way. He'd never say so, he'd not reveal how he felt to them. These were his own precious feelings and thoughts after all.

Ahiru shifted on his shoulder, peering past the blue to the newly hatched bronze. This drew both Fakir's eyes and thoughts to the bronze. He was rather pretty. Ah! But had the little one noticed the egg beside his which he had left unstable? No, he hadn't, the bronze was already looking towards the boys and in his wake hatched a brown. He did look a bit chubby, or maybe he was just stout in stature. In any case, the way the brown had hatching and the actions of the bronze made him smile a little. They were in their own way a lot like children, only caring for themselves. It made sense.

[shouriko]

He needed some kind of distraction. Even if he was wished luck by Aimry, something he was very grateful for and sorry he had not properly thanked his friend for, it did not ease the great tension he felt. Daevon was certain that he was sweating, he could feel the beads of sweat beginning at his forehead beneath the long bangs of his roguish head of hair. His fists were clammy and only a blue had hatched and began to trod towards them all. A little dragon with teeth as sharp as wild feline's.

The blue looked at them and he was sure that it could see right through each and every one of them. Daevon longed for something to happen and as he thought of it, prayed for it, the bronze hatched. His cerulean blue eyes darted to the source of the sound and there was the bronze. Following close behind in hatching was the brown. He might not have hatched so soon if his bronze brother hadn't been so forceful, but he appeared to be all right. That was a good thing, wasn't it? A hatchling lost at a hatching was ill tidings.

Speaking of which, the blue that had hatched first, wasn't that ill tidings as well. If a bronze hatched first it was considered good luck for the clutch and the new Weyrlings who came from its results. Daevon began to get concerned, not that he was overly superstitious, but just what could it mean if it was not good luck for them all? Would someone get hurt, or worse, die?

[fauxfox]

Contrary to the hopes of an entire cavern’s worth of eyes, the blue seemed in no rush to make the first Impression of the night. Far from it the gawky little dragon was rather more absorbed in making himself presentable for his adoring audience, cleaning itself thoroughly of unsightly egg goo and shell fragments while the candidates gawped and held their breath. To add insult to injury, when his handsome hide was finally free of fluid the little creature merely yawned. Aimry could practically feel the frustration rolling off the semi-circle of young men; that they’d hung on the event of the hatching for so many sevendays only for the first–hatched to lack any kind of apparent drive what-so-ever. He’d have been sympathetic… were he not rather amused by the turnaround. Finally, the blue moved smoothly from his perch and down to his waiting admirers, meandering through the minds on offer with a kind of imperiousness novel for his colour-stereotype.

The bronze when it arrived onto the scene was a blessing in a couple of ways, to give the candidate’s straining eyes something other than the poor blue to look at, and to reassure those hidebound individuals that a low-ranking firstborn was not an omen of doom for the entire clutch. Of course it was all superstition, but with rumours surrounding the incapacitated Weyrwoman like circling wherries and a young, relatively inexperienced Weyrleader at their helm the naysayers needed all the reassurance luck could grant them. A healthy, strapping bronze was a good start to put aside concerns that Vandyith’s feral tendencies of late had not compromised the safety and wellbeing of her brood. Those were the politics, anyway. For the majority of spectators a baby bronze – another fine defender for Southern’s (or rather Lidal’s) interests – was exciting enough in itself. Even if it was a foul tempered beast.

The egg that had been the careless bronze’s first casualty split open to reveal a brown. Stocky and heavy-footed by first appearance, but then Aimry wasn’t sufficiently experienced in dragons or hatchlings to know whether his build now had any effect on his future stature. Maybe not, but it was a widely held rule of creature anatomy that paws of that size generally predicted an impressive amount of growing to come. The sceptical undercurrent that had flavoured the spectator’s murmurings seemed to have been appeased somewhat by the arrival of the bronze and brown, but a glance towards the vigilant T’ran found him impassive as ever. If the viewing audience or candidates were hoping for some indication of pleasure or disapproval it seemed they were both going to be sorely disappointed.

[Femisis]

Despite the fact that standing for the Gold egg was supposed to be a great honor and whatnot, Crescentia decided that it sucked and it was the worst place on the sands. That was all you had to look at, unless you turned your back to the Queen egg which was a VERY bad idea. Still, she wanted to see what was going on and turned to look, keeping her body at an angle to turn at a moment’s notice. A newly hatched Queen was dangerous, or so she’d heard, and she REALLY liked having all her limbs right now.

The Blue caught her attention simply because he was the only dragon on the sands. He seemed rather… cute, she decided, or at least possessed a more even temperament. In any case, it didn’t see as though he wanted candidate for breakfast, so they were safe for now. It seemed like he had a stare, though, as far as she could tell, and that seemed to work much better than chewing off limbs. He wanted a boy though, so it wouldn’t do her much good to watch him any longer.

The moment, or one of the moments, everyone had been waiting for as the Bronze broke free of his shell. His hide was gorgeous, she had to admit. She didn’t make her envy of the boys known, at least not aloud. It didn’t matter how envious she was, a Bronze wouldn’t Impress to her. There was still the Gold, right…? It just wasn’t the same. He seemed like a bully, though, shoving his brother aside like a sack of potatoes. “Jerk.” She snorted under her breath, folding her arms across her chest as she watched the egg the Bronze knocked over.

A Brown broke free of the shell, looking rather comical with his big feet. He’d be a strong beast once he was grown, big, too, if his feet were anything to go by. He seemed much more even tempered than his Bronze brother, though the boys wouldn’t care much. After all, his hide wasn’t shiny. Idiots…

[Edward]

Late.. Crazy late. At least that what it had felt like. He was supposed to have been there by now. He could hear some of the people running around outside talking, rather loudly, about the hatching that was soon to start. Rushing to the door, Murtur would notice that everyone had been dressed differently than himself. They were wearing some robe and sandals. Looking around frantically, Murtur would almost run into someone as they handed him his own pair. Running back into his room he would quickly strip down and place on the new clothes that had been presented to him. He didn't want to waste too much time.

He didn't want to let B'tron down by not impressing because he forgot to show up. Murtur would make it a point to get there in little time. As soon as he finished getting dressed, the boy would take off running. The flitt wouldn't have time to make it upon his shoulder so it would go flying after Murtur in it's struggle to catch up. The two of them would be jetting down hallways as one rushed to the sands and the other to the first.

Once Murtur arrived a hatchling had already broken from it's egg. Murtur could see that a blue dragon had already begun walking through the boys, trying to find 'his.' Murtur's eyes would widen as he saw the amazing creature, and soon after another egg would break as a bronze took to the sands. Murtur would take a look at this one too. They were all just amazing creatures. When the bronze opened it's wings, it would tip over yet another egg which would then in turn break out and reveal the brown who used to be trapped inside. All these dragons just caught Murtur's eyes as they hatched.

He couldn't do anything from the door way, however, so Murtur would carefully walk to the group of boys. Hopefully he wouldn't be in trouble;e. It didn't look like the hatching has started too long ago. Taking a place at the end of the group of boys, Murtur would wait to see what the dragons would do. The bronze seemed to have taken charge as it pushed past his blue brother. A bit of shock would appear on Murtur's face as the dragon did this. Though Azure was happy to see all these dragons, he was tired from over working himself earlier. He had been getting lazy. All that flying had been a work out. Azure would begin to fall asleep around Azure's neck as Murtur stood waiting for all the events to unfold.

---

Beyral had awaken with all the others. People knocking on his doors, Beyral would open them and be handed his garbs for the event that was soon to come. The male had seen these before and hopefully it would be the last time that he saw them as well. There was no reason for him to delay as he didn't want to risk any of the dragons disappearing like they had before. As Beyral finished dressing up as required, he would head out of his room and find himself walking with a group pf other candidates. He had no idea who these people were, but it didn't matter either; he had to focus.

Russet would land on the shoulder of the male as he walked along the passages and took the needed turns in order to reach his desired location. The two of them would arrive with a group of others. Being led into the sands, the group would simply stand there as the boys were told to come out first. Looking around he would stare at the multitude of eggs. it would take long before the first egg broke open. The dragon seemed dark, but it was having trouble escaping from its egg. It seemed that this dragon wouldn't be a high color, and once it finished breaking from it's egg, the dragon would land flt on it's stomach as it proceeded to clean itself. It had been a blue.

Next to come was a rather proud bronze. It seemed to show off a bit as it spread its wings and knocked over another egg. It would then walk to the area where the boys were at. While doing so it would bush his blue brother who had started examining each boy, as it was in no rush. From the egg that had been knocked over, a brown would appear and not much else was to happen as of yet other than the bronze getting mad at someone who had reached to try and touch it.

Beyral fliit would send emotions of happiness over their connection as it noticed the multitude of dragons that were hatching. It would not get near any of them, but it was too excited to simply sit on Beyral's shoulders anymore so it would take off into the halls that way it didn't get itself or Beyral in trouble. Now it was simply time to wait as the dragons hatched and the ones that had already hatched claimed their partners.