Gold Feyruth and Bronze Denskith's 1st Clutch

Hatching Ground Archway
A short tunnel from the bowl opens into the enormous bubble of the hatching ground cavern. The ceiling is too far overhead for the glowlight to reach, though during a hatching the eyes of the dragons on the ledges above seem to shine like miner's gems from the obsidian darkness. The heat is the next most notable thing, a constant oppressive wave that seems almost physical in its presence. As one glances out over the sands the heat seems almost visible, the mirror-like waves of mirages hugging close to the sandy grounds. The sands themselves are not some flat placid place, but dynamic undulating dune-like waves shifting at the whim of the brooding queen. Wing and talon can turn her eggs in the gentlest manner or send sandy piles flying in great dragon hand or foot sized shovels. The pathway to the galleries is fenced off by a wooden railing that hugs the edge of the sands along the wall west until one reaches the viewing stands.

Hatching Sands

< On The Sands >
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Clutch 5: Gold Feyruth and Bronze Denskith >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gold Feyruth broods over a clutch of 10 eggs.

Yh'val is carefully checking over his list and comparing it against the slowly gathering candidates. "Let me see your robe." the Weyrlingmaster asks one young man. Meanwhile, the young P'wyn, not long out of weyrlinghood himself is hanging around in the background teasing a stunning blonde brought in for the gold egg. "Of course she'll choose you." he flatters, though the girl ignores him.

Deimara shifts from leg to leg, waiting for her turn at inspection. She brushes at her robe chasing imaginary lint, then moves to her hair which is tied back from her face…
Harrell, who's a good head shorter than most of the boys (and some of the girls) his age, is bouncing upon his toes trying to get a decent glimpse of the Weyrlingmaster. Are they looking for him? He raises an arm and waves, just to make sure his presence is noted.

Anzi listens to all going on around her while looking wistfully towards the bowl.

Ah well. P'wyn shrugs at getting the cold shoulder and moves on, finding himself standing next to Harrell and not too far from Anzi. "He's not going to see you from there, kid." the brownrider tells the boy. But apparently it’s enough activity to attract Yh'val's attention so Harrell gets a quick nod before the Weyrlingmaster is off to check Deimara. "What's cooking, Anzi?" P'wyn asks.

Deimara stands attentively, hands by her sides, as the Weyrlingmaster approaches.

Harrell looks up at P'wyn with a sulky expression, apparently not appreciating the fact that his disadvantageous height has been pointed out yet again. But his next hop gets him high enough to see Yh'val nodding in his direction. Success! He glances down at his get-up, double checking that his robe looks okay.

P'wyn just gives Harrell a cheeky grin for his sulky expression. "Nervous yet, Harrell?" he asks of the youngster. Meanwhile, Yh'val has finally finished his check of the boys and is moving on to the girls. Deimara gets a curt nod of approval. The bronzer moves past her and over towards Anzi. "Psst, Anzi!" P'wyn tries to helpfully alert her to the attention but who knows if he's made it better or worse.

"No," Harrell replies with false bravado, "I'm not scared at all." He attempts to sneakily wipe his sweaty palms on his almost clean robe so that there's no evidence of his fear. It's good enough to pass inspection, hopefully, but has already suffered in his eagerness to get here.

Deimara smiles at the conversations around her.

Yh'val walks by after checking the last of the girls off, giving a frown to P'wyn in passing. The brownrider just grins back fearlessly. After he passes by, P'wyn nudges Harrell with his elbow and rolls his eyes at the Weyrlingmaster. "So..let's play guess the impression, huh? I personally think that kid from Nabol doesn't have a chance. Don't know what the dragons saw in him." Glancing up he attempts to catch Deimara's eye and wink at her. Rattle the candidates seems to be a favorite game.

Deimara catches P'wyn's wink and arches her left brow with a grin and a look that infers that she is not one easily rattled.

Zathen steps down from the galleries.

Zathen has arrived.

Harrell straightens up as Yh'val passes, holding his head high and attempting to look presentable. But as soon as the man goes past, he slouches again. "He's gonna be standing there crying," he pronounces in a rather… sad attempt at predicting the future. But at least this game is a good distraction from his own nerves. He glances at Deimara, then P'wyn, and asks, "What about her?"

P'wyn starts to respond with, "She's kinda cute at least. I think.." But the rest of the sentence is cut off as a deep thrumming fills the bowl. P'wyn glances back over his shoulder, muttering "Enolth says it's time." at the same time that Yh'val stands up and projects. "Ok, everyone after me. Keep in your lines and remember, girls, you go to the gold egg first. Everyone keep alert! We don't want unnecessary injuries." Whatever P'wyn's thoughts on Deimara, it's too late now!

You step out onto the hot sands.

Zathen steps in from the entryway.

Deimara steps in from the entryway.

Neska steps in from the entryway.

Anzi steps in from the entryway.

Janja and F'sah are doing their best impression of folks that were not running late to the party by pretending that they have been on the sands all this time and watching the eggs for hours as they slowly rocked back and forth instead of scampering in just a few minutes ago.

Yh'val motions the boys to circle around the whole sands, while keeping all the girls near to the gold egg. Once everyone is settled, he steps back to wait on the sidelines.

Zathen takes in a deep, nervous breath as he follows the other boys into position; his eyes are wide, his hands caught in fists at his side as he stares, earnestly, at the eggs.

Deimara nods and smiles at the girls standing with her, she glances at the boys then turns her attention to the gold egg in front of her.

Sharing the Wonder Egg rocks slowly on the sands as though it were a ship on the water, distorting shape with each pass. Each roll causes it to gather speed and distend farther until with one final shove, the shell flips, though a cracking sound can be heard as it rolls. It lifts into the air on pale green legs and shakes vigorously, rapidly falling to pieces around the form of the Ghostly Chartreuse Green hatchling. She is tiny, even for a newly hatched green, and has a chartreuse base with rosemary blotches and wings. She shyly wobbles across the sands, avoiding getting too close as she moves from candidate to candidate before stopping at the feet of the weyr's own Harrell, now H'rrell. He drops with a smile to hug the green. "Easy, Reuseth, I'm here."

After a few moments a weyrlingmaster joins up with NPC H'rrell and Green Reuserth leading the new pair off the sands.

Neska nudges her way in between two other girls to take her place in front of the gold egg.

Janja takes her time but starts to clap when the first green is hatched and impressed just like that, elbowing F'sah in the side as she does. "Look, look. There's our first pair."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Tropical Breeze Blue Hatchling >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He is mostly the color of the tropical ocean, a turquoise bright blue that moves along from his elongated head to his slender neck. Hints of paler colors open up across his hide as it drapes down, filtering along his shoulders and along thin forearms, down to the incredibly dark half moons of his wickedly sharp talons. His back is frosted in a lighter blue shade, nearly a pale icy color that contrasts with the bright turquoise that still limns the ridges that float along his back and follow the entire length of his tail to the very end. His wings are splashed between pale blue and a slightly darker sky, melding across the entirety of his wingsails and causing them to become darker the farther you get from his leading edges, while his insubstantial wingspars at darkly outlined in cobalt colors, a tattoo so dark against the light.

Anzi joins the other girls before the gold egg, hands making creases in the fabric of ber robe.

With a grin, Yh'val moves to intercept the young boy and lead him and his new lifemate over to the food. "Here you go. Make sure to give her small pieces slowly.

Tropical Breeze Blue Hatchling blinks a bit as he looks out onto the world, shaking his head before he starts out on his journey. There are so many out here to choose from. With cautious steps his journey takes him near where all the female candidate are standing before he nearly runs into one with dark hair and ink stained hands.

A spider's web of cracks radiates across the shell of the Waxy Work of Art Egg after one huge smash from inside. Several pushes from within bend the shell until a crack splits wide open, allowing the shell to be peeled back like a fruit to reveal a lime colored face. Southern Charm and Julep Green hatchling is a dainty thing, stuck in her shell, and she begins to creel and thrash for all she's worth. "No!" screams Davis, the gangly seacrafter boy. The blonde boy starts to rush forward, just as the spring green and lime hatchling spills out of the shell. She rolls right into him, sending them both down in a tangle of limbs. "Ouch! Bonjeth, be careful, you're going to end up hurt!" D'vis says.

After a few moments a weyrlingmaster joins up with NPC D'vis and Green Bonjeth leading the new pair off the sands.

Deimara smiles as Impressions are made.

Playing Dress Up Egg quakes in the sands as activity inside intensifies.

The marching lines of the A World of Words Egg begin to waver. The orderly neat lines bow and flex as the hatchling inside struggles to escape. Cracks fission the shell sides, spilling downwards from the peak to shatter fairytale images, as with one final heave the egg splits apart and showers shell shards all around. The dark smoky bronze wobbles slowly to his feet and marches stiff-legged over to a group of boys. He spends a long moment glaring at all of them, as the boys wait wordlessly. Gustave, a tall, older local lad, finally drops to his knees with a tear in one eye. " Always, Ahluath." G'stav stands and helps lead his new lifemate off the sands to feed.

After a few moments a weyrlingmaster joins up with NPC G'tav and Bronze Aluath leading the new pair off the sands.

Playing Dress Up Egg continues moving. The shakes and shudders build to a peak and *Snap* the shell cracks. They crazy across the golden shell, splitting it into a million pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< A Shot of Gold Hatchling >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Evanescent pale honey gold clings to lustrous silken hide, as lithe, supple muscles roll beneath it. Rose gold flakes float within the honey as exquisite freckles. The speckles start on her face, limning the lines above and below her eyes. They glide across her hide, thickest on back and rump, while disappearing to nothing on the underbelly. She is an image of soft strength, sylvan head flowing into a slender neck with delicate ridges cascading down towards her back. The svelte form continues through lean, nimble limbs and taut high flanks with the sensitive tail held deftly /just/ so. Wicked rose gold talons curve from the long, sleek toes seeming as if they could pierce into the ground below. The oversized wings are a honey so clear as to be near transparent, sprinkled with the rose gold specks as if stars in a liquid sky. They line the delicate spars and leading edge painting the spindled bones even more solid against the insubstantial sails.

Neska continues to glance over her shoulder, as it seems the gold egg isn't quite ready yet. It's a good thing she does, since there's an uncertain blue waiting for her. "Waiith?" She drops to her knees to give him a reassuring hug. "I love you too, Waiith."

Janja's delighted when the bronze hatchling shows himself, clapping again and almost yelling outloud on the sands. "Oh look, Feyruth had a bronze."

There is a slight rocking motion before all goes still. Then it moves again, the Scribbled Markings Egg as the hatchling inside wakes up and starts to fight its way to freedom from the confining shell. As the cracks continue to form, the open enough for one leg to wiggle to freedom, then another until a very bright blue head appears and he forces his way to the outside leaving behind more than half a shell. As fortune would have it, he does no more than force his head up, looking at the nearest candidate, an older lad from Nabol Hold, Seret and impression is made. S're is then leading his new charge toward the side of the sands. "Come along Indeth."

After a few moments a weyrlingmaster joins up with NPC S're and Blue Indeth leading the new pair off the sands.

Deimara gasps as the gold hatchling bursts her shell, "How lovely" is whispered.

Yh'val grins as the blue finds it's mate. "Well, that's unusual." He walks over to Neska, "Waiith did you say? This way you two. I'm sure he's hungry."

Anzi just gapes at the gold before dropping her eyes to look down at her hands

She's bubbling over with happiness, Janja is at the sight of a gold cracking shell. "I told anyone who would listen that Feyruth was doing her part to restock the weyr here. So much better than Xaeth ever has."

A Shot of Gold Hatchling might be lovely or she might not. Right now, she just seems to be a wet sticky mess. The gold wobbles to her feet ungracefully and shakes, rather like a canine. It loosens her wings, sends a few shards sailing and sprays more than a few with a bit of egg goo. Now than. Head up and eyes alert, she begins to wobble her way towards the nearest girls.

Zathen's eyes go wider still as, around him, people Impress. "Oh," he breathes, shifting from one foot to the other. The gold has no interest for him; instead, he strains to see the other eggs, chin sit with determined intent.
Awash With Fun Egg wobbles slightly, rocking back and forth, back and forth before it goes silently still on the sands once more like it never even moved.

It only takes a few rapid jerks of the Up in the Air Egg for cracks to start to form along its surface and then slowly it breaks apart in a rapidly decaying spiral. Left alone on the sands is a little green with a pale hide that is just this side of new spring grass green. She barely pauses as she's hatched before she's moving, looking, searching for that one particularly person and she finds it in a weyrbrat just old enough to stand for this clutch, Xalaby. X'by takes one look at her and reaches out, barely larger than the petite hatching and offers. "Oh, yes. Onroyth."

After a few moments a weyrlingmaster joins up with NPC X'by and Green Onroyth leading the new pair off the sands.

Yh'val cotinues leading pair after pair off to the side to feed from the buckets. "No! Don't let them stuff themselves." He admonishes the new bronze pair.

Deimara grins and covers her mouth to attempt to muffle a small giggle. Her eyes twinkling she watches the young gold approach the line of girls…

Tap! Tap! Sounds from within the Awash With Fun Egg herald the approach of yet another hatchling on the sands. The steady, constant tapping eventually leads to cracking and cracking leads to splitting. With one finally great push, the shell spills apart in several large chunks. A final chunk sticks to her back by a puddle of goo. Shaken But Not Stirred Apple Green hatchling rises off the sands as if she were born to dance. She struts her way confidently right to the feet of a shy young child from Pars Hold. As the long, angular green butts him in the chest, the boy places a shocked hand on her head. L'ren exclaims, "Yes, Vodosth, I was waiting just for you."

After a few moments a weyrlingmaster joins up with NPC L'ren and Green Vadosth leading the new pair off the sands.

A Shot of Gold Hatchling pushes one girl, then another, aside with just the fierce glare in her eyes. Finally, she arrives at someone who seems to capture her attention and the gold stops, looking upwards. Tiny eyes whirl in excitement, her head stretches up, wings spread and she trumpets!!! But what comes out is a little squeek. Still she doesn't seem to know or mind. This one. Right here.

Janja whispers in an aside to F'sah about the little gold. "You don't suppose she's damaged do you? She seems to be taking a very long time." A long glancing look is given the young hatchling. "I don't want a damaged hatchling from my queen."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< An Old Fashioned Fellow Brown Hatchling >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He is a sturdy, blockish sort of dragon, from the large very squared off wedge of his head to the heavy set of his shoulders and squat length of neck in between. He has a barrel chest, leaving him thick through the middle and that meets up with his very heavy hindquarters and lowset, thick length of his tail. His coloring though, is much brighter than would be suggested by his build, a warm liquid brown that flows across his hide and pools across body, covering every inch in a dark amber hue, and leaving even the hidden bones underneath somewhat highlighted under Rukbat's light. His wings are a trifle over long, larger than the norm to support that heavy body and colored again in brandy shades over his wingsails, in a satiny liquid display that supports his 'spars above them as only barely lighter in honeyed brandied colors.

Deimara smiles and reaches out to caress the golden head stretched up to her, "Yes sweetling, let’s get you some food."

An Old Fashioned Fellow Brown Hatchling takes his time after he hatches, just sitting right there on the sands and looking around before he finally, with agonizing slowness gets to his feet. Then with slow shuffling steps he starts making the rounds, glancing up into the faces of likely lads, and giving a weary sigh after each as he continues to trudge.

Yh'val motions yet another green over to the waiting pairs. "A little green heavy, hm?" He asides just on the loud side. But the gold seems to have impressed and he turns with a frown. "What's her name, Deimara?" He calls over to the newest queenrider.

Deimara grins so wide it must hurt her face "Cassiath, sir"

It isn't much more than a few seconds from when the Clapping Hands and Giggles Egg starts to move before it is shattering into a thousand little shards on the dark sands. It dumps out a pale green hatchling, colored in the minty shades that almost seem reflectively opaque. She shakes herself off, taking extra care with those overlarge wings of hers and then she's off on the search. It takes her most of the way across the sands to a younger lad from Tillek, but then she’s staring up at Jorrin, before newly renamed J'in laughs and offers. "Alexath, I can hear you just fine. I just didn't know you were for me."

After a few moments a weyrlingmaster joins up with NPC J'in and Green Alexath leading the new pair off the sands.

Janja makes a moue of distaste as all of the eggs seem to have hatched now and the little hatchlings are busy finding themselves out and about. "Really, darling. You could have made more eggs. I like to seem more."

Zathen's had his eyes on that brown; of course he has. And then: a grin appears, brighter and broader than anything, as his arms reach out to clasp around the dragon in front of him. "Gosturth," he says. And then, more loudly: "Gosturth! Come on, we'll get you something to eat!"

With a grin, Yh'val waves the last pair, a new brown, over to join where the others are still feeding their new lifemates. "Remember, slow and steady. Make sure they chew." He evaluates each pair, correcting here and there as needed.

Janja blinks then again as all the hatchlings seem to have found partners and she steps forward, trying to encourage F'sah to accompany her, but he's already disappeared off the sands, probably to drink. She turns to address the remaining candidates. "I'm so sorry that your lifemate was not on the sands today. It's just because Feyruth had a bad flight, Denskith caught her a little too early. But next time I'm sure that there will be more eggs, and you'll have a much better chance."

Deimara nods as she feeds Cassiath chunk after chunk of meat. As a piece is swallowed nearly whole she says "You must chew Cassiath, chew." she plops another chunk in the golden maw.

Z'en positively beams at Yh'val, escorting his brown after him. Gosturth is fed with careful handfuls, one after another; "Yes, just like that! You must be so hungry."

As the new weyrlings start to fill up, Yh'val motions for them to follow him. "Ok, let's get you all moved into the barracks before they fall asleep." He heads off the sands at the head of a parade of little dragons. Once all have followed, P'wyn sneaks into the back of the line, and follows after them.

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