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Rio tore his eyes away from mother, hatchling, and eggs when Alya came to stand beside him, his fellow friend of the Werewolf - which, as far as he could tell, wasn't up to anything just yet, but he would bet they had an awoo! to look forward to once it broke shell.  He flashed his Sands companion a bright smile, though even with company it was difficult to maintain such an expression with Vimiath's poor health so obvious.  Would she be alright after this, if her rider recovered?  Could she?  It was difficult to feel anything beyond concern and pity, bronze hatchling on the Sands or no.  Not that dragon color was of any real importance to him. "I hope everything goes well," he ventured, though after the Touching and with the way the gold looked now, it was a rather fragile hope. "I've never seen a dragon look like that before."

Yarala and Brown Vorzeth (Western)

Yarala had been comfortably settled down with a book in their weyr along the beach, listening to the ever-present lapping of the waves upon the sand that when a hum interrupted her thoughts and vibrated her lithe frame she looked up as Vorzeth head stuck it's way into the door way, his eyes awhirl with blues and greens. My darling YaralaMine, don't you hear their singing? The Eggs! They hatch! Let us go see! A deep rumble exuded from Vorzeth as impatiently waited for his rider to scramble to her feet, the book she had been reading forgotten as it was tossed to the bed in a rush. Yarala scrambled to find clothing... oh dear, she really needed better-looking clothing at some point. An affirmed snort from Vorzeth made her grin at his palpable excitement.

Finally deciding on a white tunic edged in brown and a pair of tanned hide breeches, she slipped her feet into her dark boots quickly and then tried to tame her hair, but only managed a messy braid that hung loosely over her right shoulder. "There. Presentable?" She said, showing herself to Vorzeth. As radiant as a sunrise, as ever you are, Mine. The brown mused at his rider, rubbing his nose lightly against her cheek as she hurried toward him. He lowered himself and Yarala bounded up to his shoulder, holding tight to him. "Go! Fly, my wondrous Vorzeth!" She whooped outloud - there was no one to see her out of character shouting.

The Brown let out a bugle and threw himself skyward in a bound, flying quickly up toward the Weyr and through the high mouth of the cavern. He flapped his wings for a moment, peering around for an empty ledge, before he chose an empty one as close as he could manage to the sands. He crooned down at the sea of white candidates, before looking toward the golden queen. He let out a crooning note toward her, dipping his head respectively (it would be a lie if he said he didn't have a boyish crush on the elder queen), Beautiful queen, beautiful Vimiath. We are honored to witness your children being born.

Yarala slipped from his shoulders as he bent down to a crouch, folding his wings as other swooped in all around to witness. She sat herself upon one of his large paws and looked down, watching the eggs with an intent and interested look. She hadn't witnessed many Hatchings, so she found them both fascinating, terrifying and exciting.

~Phayton~

Another star gazing partner. Phayton smiled and squeezed Jailla's hand again. That would be nice... him, Jailla and a dragon all out on the beach looking up at the night sky and pondering the wonders out there. With luck, there would be two more star gazing partners!

"It's good luck that a bronze was shelled first," he told her. "I hope that means good luck for both of us!"

He watched the Demon dragonet strut amongst the eggs of his siblings, and had to smile. This little fellow was definitely sure of himself, wasn't he? Maybe he was waiting for more Candidates to settle before making his choice. Phayton sent welcoming thoughts the hatchling's way. Maybe the Demon's choice would be him.

Junenth hummed loudly as he dropped his rider off at the entrance, excited to see new hatchlings. Still, there was a twinge of grey-red in the corners of his eyes, and he made quick work to take a lower ledge. He was watching A'ral and the poor girl who had been so frightened. He would be watching Vimiath as well -- though the gold did not look to post much of a threat, he did not trust her. Not with her riders ill health, and the possibility of the Candidates at mercy of her children.

Delicately, gently, he sent a quiet wave of warmth and support to the girl. And softly, so softly it was almost a whisper, he spoke. Zinath's and mine will keep you safe. You do not need to go far -- if a baby is meant for you, they will find you. Thankfully, a Hatchlings sense of self-preservation often meant it would search high and low before things began to look grim. Unlike popular opinion, one did not have to be at the front of all the action to Impress.

R'mor, for his part, was quick to seek out A'ral. Akaris was with him, and his heart warmed to see the green rider hand-in-hand with the girl. He did glance at Lennik, and nodded approvingly at the young man. It was good of him to worry, though he had no doubt that she would be welcome to stay near the fringes as long as she needed.

"We'll be here, no matter what. Vimiath is being watched, and while we can't interfere with the Hatchlings, you are allowed to keep a wide girth from them. If one is meant for you, you'll know. You're also welcome to remain here." He added, in case she felt obligated to take Lennik up on his offer. They were still on the Sands, even if it was distanced from the group.

He reached out to squeeze her shoulder encouragingly. Honestly, R'mor worried... that Touching had been pretty chaotic. Who knew how these eggs would respond?

It might have been tradition for the Weyrleaders to sit up in the stands, but for now, at least, R'mor preferred to be on the sidelines. This was a special case, after all.

Vimiath


Vimiath had been resting as she hummed the welcome to her children, and stirred again only when candidates began to arrive. She lifted her head and watched with a certain tautness to her poise, her eyes expecting one in particular. When they found the small form... the eyes flashed white with fear. She began to rise, but hesitated. Her bronze child was moving quickly, and she had to be alert to his needs.

Vorzeth's gentle words gave Vimiath a comforting boost, and she raised her head a little higher, checking to see if he was at the entrance. She wanted to preen, to flare her wings and show the glory of Vimiath, but there was little pride or strength in her now. A soft, Thank you, was all she could manage.

Jagmund

It was time! Jagmund had been practicing putting his Candidate robes on as fast as he could and had traced the fastest route to the sands, so as soon as they were called, he had bolted out of bed and stripped off his bedclothes in record time. With his robes donned and his focus clear, he jogged all the way to the sands, but he was definitely not the first one there!

He grinned as he slid to a stop on the sand and was shocked to find that a dragonet was already wandering around. Oh, and a handsome bronze, too! His grin grew wider as he realized The Demon egg was in pieces. Eager, wasn't he? An incredible, amazing dragonet. Come to Jagmund.

The sudden call that the eggs were shaking, had hatched had Lestenna all but flying to Uridith's side. They'd nowhere else important to be, and had offered to go, along with the candidates of High Reaches, to represent their interests. The desire to assess another gold's brood wasn't a small thing either. If theirs was to be a partnership of weyrs, of shared clutches, they'd better know they were getting what they were giving. A quality brood could make all the difference.

The fact that the first was shelled so fast was one thing, but that it was a bronze, supposedly, was another. A bronze would do far better at High Reaches than Western...but this one would have no choice. Was it better to hope one of their own impressed it, but then must stay behind? It was hard to say. Uridith herself had less complicated thoughts on the matter. She was a mother, and wanted to see Vimiath's children. Takarath was going with her, and her Brieteth had volunteered to ferry candidates. He if no one else deserved her appearance as a show of support. And he'd saved her a seat! Thank you sweet Brieteth! We will be along shortly. If any other dragons bother you, just tell them that I am coming, and let me know. We won't be long, I promise.

"V'kenti, is Takarath ready? The first hatchling's been shelled—impatient, it seems—so we'd best be going."







There! THERE! The whip-crack fast white had found a perch high above the sands as soon as the humming had begun. Amna hadn't even bothered with riding straps, instead just wrapping her arms around the small dragon's neck and holding on tight with her thighs—it wasn't as if he'd ever let her fall, anyway. The short woman leaned a bit closer to the edge of the almost-spire of stone they'd nestled atop to look down...ah! Another tiny slim figure of white had appeared, dropping off one of the two on its back. Vee! Zunulth's smaller twin, it sent ripples of deepest blue twirling through the usually more sedate dragon's eyes. Vee, brother! Come join us! Bring yours, Amna hasn't seen her 'little brother' in ages, and we've the best seat in the house! I'd been planning to relay the hatching to you if you didn't come, but...well, now perhaps we can do it together!

From this high vantage they'd have a clear view of the entire bowl of sand. If any eggs split, or candidates were trampled, or anything else at all happened, they'd have an ideal view. And especially with so many of the hopeful children being from High Reaches, it seemed only right to let those left behind in the mountains know if anything important happened, or if someone wouldn't be coming home...for any reason.







Oh! Oh hey, she knew that dragon! Jacquol was all toothy grin as Lennoth came swooping in to land. It took P'tius a few minutes to notice her, but she was keenly aware when he did. He looked like a feline that'd had water dumped on it, all wide-eyed and leaping up as if he'd charge the sands and drag her off them himself. Nuh uh. She was going to brave this sea of shells, and maybe find herself a treasure to sit beside Ambrin's brown. She tossed a cheeky wave his way, before pointedly ignoring her brother.

She didn't really want to see him tie himself up in knots, especially not when there were eggs hatching! So far everything was fine anyways...just because she'd never seen a hatching in person didn't mean she was underestimating the potential danger. Right?







Dolmar didn't even dignify Shahera's poke with a response. Her comment though... "I need a dragon that suits me. If we're ever at odds, how will we ever work together, or get anything done? No, I will take the swaggering sort any day. At leas the knows he's worth the attention he's getting." Unlike if it were, say, a preening green or posing blue. They were fine enough, but common. "Let him take his time. I'm quite certain he already knows his mind." Dolmar knew what he wanted in a partner. It was flaunting itself for all to see, just across the sands there.

"Isn't he a splendid thing, Cedarian?" He leaned slightly towards the other young man, though his eyes never left the bronze. Cesare had appeared at some point, which meant Migel would be nearby—yes, he could hear the ever-present shadow to Cesare going on about the robes even now, there next to another rather serious looking fellow...Gavryl, perhaps? A glance to make sure Marinel was still at his side—of course he was—and then back to focusing. I'm over here, but do take your time. I won't be going anywhere without you. If a boy could will a dragon to be his, well. Dolmar was certainly trying.

~Z'haq and bronze Eorawth~

"So, it was a bronze that hatched first," Z'haq said to Resa as they and their dragons settled into their seats high in the stands. "Which egg was it, the Demon? Shards, I thought that one would be a gold for sure. Ah well." He grinned at the missed guess -- who was to say, really, how this clutch would shake out? There was still a chance he could win with his other choices, but that wasn't the point. Gambling itself was.

Watching the Candidates form a crescent around the eggs and the bronze dragonet reminded the Wingleader of his own Impression. He was more surprised when bronze Eorawth chose him than anyone else was. Him, a raggedy sailor, now a bronzerider. He knew it didn't mean anything here at Western Weyr, but it was still something to be proud of as far as he was concerned.

Eorawth rumbled and nudged his rider's shoulder affectionately with his nose. I chose well, Mine.

Then Z'haq noticed Vimiath. "Oh shells, look at the queen, Resa. She looks awful. Poor thing."