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Tyanan happened to be walking next to the girl when she fairly erupted with questions. He couldn't help but grin; clearly this was maybe her first or second Touching. The white-blond young man looked at her with amusement. "Yeah, they're pretty much all like this," he commented. "This one was a little more intense than usual, but I've experienced worse. Much worse."

Being the friendly sort, he continued. "So is this like your first Touching? I remember my first -- shells, it really surprised me, even though I had all the training, like I'm sure you have. Talking to baby dragons that haven't hatched yet with your mind, that's some intense stuff there." Laughing, he shook his head. "Listen to me going on all rude like. I'm Tyanan, used to be a Dolphineer. Now I'm gonna be a dragonrider. One of thse days," he grinned again.

"What's your name?"

"More intense?" Eliaza hadn't really meant to eavedrop, but she was still a little out of sorts. Lectures about what-ifs and might-happens were one thing, but it was another to have something go wrong -- or wrongish -- when you were standing right there. There'd already been so many new things to keep track of, and if this wasn't even the most intense...

"I mean," she said, a little color touching her cheeks. "That seemed like a lot, didn't it?" Now that she'd intruded, she figured she might as well just join the conversation, so she drifted closer to be a more direct part. "If the dragonets don't don't get upset in their shells, are the Hatchings calmer?" More to the point, "Can they be calmed down again?"

She felt a little like she must look like a trundlebug had just crawled up her sleeve, so she paused, took a breath and exhaled into a smile. "Sorry. This is just ... I'm Eliaza. I'm-- I was going to be a vintner." And she was far away from home.

In spite of all his careful maneuvering, he'd managed to get pressed into the general crowd on his way out of the Sands--all too quickly, he found that most of his good mood had been sapped by the heat and proximity of others, and being somewhat trapped among a large group of people was icing on the cake. Lyfrocier did little to stop the deepening frown on his face, staring ahead into empty space rather than focusing all of that on someone else. Still, he could catch the edges of a conversation happening nearby, and it caught his attention--it seemed to be centered around the eggs, of course. That was hardly surprising, given what they'd all just walked away from.

"They were certainly loud." Was it his place to comment? No, perhaps not. Even still, perhaps a little group venting might do something for his mood. "Lyfrocier. Fashion designer." His tone is clipped, but not harsh--he hadn't spoken to any of this group of candidates before, as far as he was aware, and he didn't particularly want to start off on the wrong foot. "A pleasure to meet all of you properly. As for the eggs, though...I hope they'll be in better spirits when they hatch."
Otherwise, they were going to have a hell of a time on the Sands. Running afoul of a hatchling was by no means on his agenda, and he didn't intend to be anything's chew toy, either. For a moment, he thought of that spark of joy from the Rose Egg--and how unprepared he'd been for a dragon to actually speak to him at all.

"Still, I'm. Looking forward to seeing them, tantrums aside." He could admit that much here, right? All of them were here for the same reason, more or less. Lyfrocier paused to adjust his glasses, giving a soft huff when he noticed a smudge on one of the lenses. Now was--not the time to clean that, though, so he'd just have to put up with it until he could actually stop and attend to it. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens, though."

Guessing games felt dangerous. Suppose those hatchlings could hear you? Speculating. What if you guessed wrong? What if the Mother Dragon overheard them and whacked them all upside the head with her huge tail. Sivu supposed some people could feel disappointment at colors, maybe especially at High Reaches.

It.. didn't really matter to him. If a dragon chose you, your were there's. Ballad material. Magnificent. Wonderful. And what did flying truely feel when you aren't just the wide eyed passengers! He smushed his hands to his chin gleefully at the thought, entranced.

"They are all queens to me, my friend." For all he knew they could be, stupid broken eyes seeing olivey browns and dim grays. Bet they were all beautiful. And their egg patterns had been magnificent! Surely whatever was contained within would be just as such.

"Could you even imagine such a thing!"

Of course Odellet would ask. "What's your favorite was a question even the newest apprentice had been trained to expect. Eliaza had also learned how not to be exasperated by it, so her answer was given with a slightly wider smile. "I was planning -- well, hoping -- to work on redfruit wines and ciders when I had the chance," she answered. "But no one can argue against Benden's red. Or, I suppose...there's a wine the makers call a golden that comes from a little Hold called Hidden Cove. They don't make much of it but it's very good." Wines were far less stressful to talk about than upset draggonets, anyway.



----

Ollandin had followed the group but lingered near the back of the cluster. Listening. He'd just meant to listen, but then someone asked what had started it, and the dark-skinned young man swallowed past a lingering knot of guilt. "It was me," he offered, stepping a little more forward. "I mean, partly my fault? Maybe." He glanced from face to face. "It just looked so bright and happy, that little yellow shell, and I thought it looked like it was glowing. If I'd known it was going to get that upset, I'd. I'd have told it something else." Anoother glance around. "Sorry."

"I've seen Greens come from large eggs, and Golds come from small! There's no telling, and that's part of the excitement. "She answered, striding along with them, "The clutch my....Huarwar Impressed in, there were twin Golds in a very cramped shell. It's part of why I can't wait to see what comes of this one. It's always so strange and different."

"Can't expect much restraint out of them. They're only children, after all."
Lyfrocier simply shrugged, although he stopped to turn and pick out the man who claimed responsibility for Yellow Swirl's tantrum. His gaze was...precise, to say the least, an analytical stare that noted down Ollandin's face for future reference. It might be a good idea to avoid standing too close to him during the Hatching, now that he thought about it.
"In any case. You didn't have malicious intent, did you? Just got a little too enthusiastic, is all." Was he intending to reassure Ollandin, or was he doing little more than stating what he saw as fact? "If I were you, however, I might spend some time hoping it won't hold it against you. Like I said--it's only a child."
Whether or not that meant anything positive was much more of a mystery.

Shoxiel's entrance into the conversation earned a short nod of acknowledgment, not to mention a very interesting topic--the concept of twin dragons hadn't quite made it onto his radar yet, but now that someone had brought it up, he couldn't help but wonder. Would that have been obvious in the Touching, or--? Probably not, especially considering the fact that he wasn't experienced enough with speaking to dragons. How would he know the difference?

Tyanan and Aelyx had caught his focus for very similar reasons, and when a slight break in conversation afforded him the opportunity, he looked at them each in turn before addressing them properly.
"Both of you are veteran candidates, aren't you? Correct me if I'm wrong." He cocked an eyebrow, hesitating just long enough to allow for any possible interjection. "Would you happen to have any advice, by any chance? We might yet need it."