Aleith's Clutching!
Who: Rilkie, Ferros, Cyrra, Tiriana, Kayara, Jazra, Tavrie, Ferros, Kenley, Jenivrys, Gr'din, Olwyn, E'tyn, Sareith, Aleith
What: Aleith's eggs arrive, and there is much rejoicing. Rilkie hopes for more brown dragons.
Where: Galleries, Telgar Weyr
Galleries, Telgar Weyr
Stretching along the eastern wall of the hatching cavern, these tiers of seats have enough room for several hundred spectators for clutchings and hatchings. To one side, long shallow steps descend to the entrance. There is also a railing separating the lowest tier of seats from the hatching sands themselves. Other parts of the galleries are closed off from the sands by a wall to the north and south. From here you can reenter the bowl, or follow the pathway down to the sands.
From the hatching sands, With great suddenness, the egg-heavy queen had leapt from her sunny ledge, flapping heavily across the bowl and into her place of birth. Olwyn, after a few minutes realization, had chased after her and now perches at the edge of the sands on a lower bench.
From the hatching sands, Aleith paces around the Hatching Grounds anxiously, her usual grace impeded by the eggs bulging in her abdomen. She stops here and there, smoothing the sand to her liking. Finally, she moves to the center of the sands and enthusiastically digs a hole before positioning herself above it. When she moves, a green egg has been laid, and she pauses to admire it lovingly before moving on.
From the hatching sands,
Swirls and Specks Egg
Swaths of color mark this egg, rangy from a creamy white on one end and progressing through myriad shades of green. Pale green, glows green, the greens of the leaves in a Southern rainforest, a fluorescent green that no weaver could match the color of, all twist and writhe about this egg. Distributed among the swirling colors are bits of a deep brown, some sprinkles as fine as sand, others like large pebbles. These chunks of almost black break up the smooth progression of the greens and make parts of the egg difficult to focus on for very long.
In the wake of Aleith's movements, a bugle rises into the air. Proceeding this is E'tyn and Gay's arrival to the clutching, their steps slow and low conversation impeding their quick arrival. Once there, however, the Weyrleaders make their way through the crowd, greeting various people and finding a seat somewhere near the front.
From the hatching sands, Sareith was winging in just behind his mate, eyes wheeling anxiously and crooning softly to her. As she deposits the first egg on the sands, the bronze eyes it for a moment, as if to say 'this is what all the fuss was about?' before turning his head to nuzzle the gold and making a fuss over her.
Jazra comes into the galleries at a liesurely pace, neutral expression on her face as she regards the sands. "Oh good, its begun." She moves for a good space to sit, not really caring where. The greenrider simply puts her elbow on her knee, rests her chin on her hand.
Ferros filters in with the rest of the crowd, his excited look, eager eyes, and raised eyebrows betraying him as someone who isn't used to clutches. He looks at the quickly filling seats and shifts his weight anxiously, uncertain of where to go. He gives a surprised jump as the first egg makes its appearance and mumbles, "Gosh, that was fast."
Gr'din comes rushing up the steps, dragging a dark-haired teenager along with him. "Here-" he all but shoves her at a seat. "I'll come get you afterwards." And without a word of explaination to Jenivrys, or to anyone around who she is, he pelts down the stairs towards the sands.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn holds her breath as Aleith finally pauses, then claps in delight as the first egg appears. "Wonderful job, Aleith!" she praises her dragon, then subsides into anxious watchfulness.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din comes pelting down the gallery stairs after all but shoving a dark haired girl into a seat. "Scorch it! I missed the first one! - We got caught in the dorms, showing Jeni around," he babbles to Olwyn, plopping into a spot nxt to her.
From the hatching sands, A concerned Sareith looks on and croons encouragingly as Aleith's golden sides ripple and contract for a few agonizingly long moments until, finally, a small orange and black egg plops out. That much work seems wasted on such a small egg, but a furrow is lovingly dug in the sands for it by Sareith all the same.
Cyrra, sporting a towel over her wet hair like a cowel, hurries into the hatching cavern and finds herself a seat with eager eyes. Excitement for one of her clutchsibs has the normally jittery girl looking almost at home in the slowly filling seats.
From the hatching sands,
Endless Claws And Tails Egg
Sharp zigzags of orange and black harshly cut their way across most of this egg's shell, reminiscent of a holiday long forgotten and exotic felines rarely seen on the Southern Continent. Near the top and bottom of the shell, the lines gradually become less solid, the colors mixing together to form gentle swirls, like the swishing of a playful feline's tail. On the smaller side, this egg would easily be lost among the sands and its myriad of siblings if it weren't for its starkly contrasting colors and sharp lines.
Jenivrys keeps quiet all the while she's hustled up the steps and unceremoniously dropped into a seat. "Figures," she scowls after the bronzerider, making a show of adjusting her clothing before turning to the woman next to her. "Men. No manners whatsoever."
Rilkie arrives at the clutching, hurrying to find herself a good seat before they're all taken. Spying one next to a fellow rider, she slides into it and asks "What's happened so far?" And then she looks out onto the sands, catching sight of the gold laying her second egg. "Oh, my! That one's... pretty, isn't it? In a unique way."
From the hatching sands, Olwyn reaches out a hand to squeeze Gr'din's. "It's okay, you're here to see the rest," she says soothingly. "And both of them seem okay with it, so don't worry about it. You're here now," she finishes, giving him a smile, then glancing back into the filling galleries.
"Two so far," E'tyn notes, as he overhears Rilkie. The young Weyrleader turns, flashing the brownrider a quick, unhesitanting grin. "Haven't missed much."
Jazra takes a second glance at the orange and black shell. "An egg with attitude, nice one." She turns, having also heard E'tyn and Rilkie. "The first one was pretty colorful, Weyrleader, but if the hatchling that comes out of that second one though, is anything like the egg's shell? You'll have one shelluva fighter on your hands."
Ferros manages to sidle his way into a seat near the back of the galleries, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. He sits up as straight as he can, craning his neck to keep an eye the sands. He squints as the second egg makes an appearance and his eyebrows rise slightly. "Didn't know they came in such colors," he remarks quietly.
From the hatching sands, Aleith gives a startled little grunt, sides heaving. When she arises from her resting place, there is another egg on the sands, the light colors showing up starkly. With gentle motions, she rolls the third egg of the clutch into just the right spot, as Sareith looks on proudly.
From the hatching sands,
Luxuriant Sisal Egg
If it had been a canvas, this smooth egg would have surely started off as soft, neutral ivory. This shade of white has been suffocated almost completely by the thick, silky drizzles of darkness wrapping about its entirety, decadent dark browns sweeping liberally across the shell in textured brush strokes. Bordering every bit of the brown is a darker, vibrant crimson, showing brightly against the scant edges of remaining white and managing to take center stage.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din beams at Olwyn, and then turns that grin on his bronze as he gets into the swing of things, digging out a hole. "You feeling okay, Wyn? Need anything to drink or anything?" He's hovering just about as much as Sareith is, for all he's sitting next to the goldrider.
Kenley stares absently as his firelizard tries to fill him in in his limited way.
"Phew!" Rilkie says, grinning back at the Weyrleader. "Would've been sad if I'd missed too many." Hearing Jazra, she turns to the visiting rider. "Hm, that we would. Maybe a brown?" Of course, her bias. Then the third egg arrives-- "Now that one /has/ to be a brown. It'd only be fitting."
Tavrie enters the hatching cavern casually, but with an air of pleasure and a content grin. "This seat taken?" she asks an auntie with an open seat. Recieving the okay, she slides into the seat and settles in, looking around at the other guests for a moment and then having a look at the beginnings of the clutch that are emerging.
Jenivrys leans forward, catching Rilkie's comments. "Excuse me," she calls down to the brownrider, "Why do you think that one's a brown? --Pardon me for yelling in your ear," she adds as Tavrie slides into the seat in front of her.
From the hatching sands, Sareith rumbles to Aleith, pleased, and sets out to start digging more holes. This he accomplishes with gusto, quickly beginning to pockmark the area closest to the gallery tiers.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn giggles at Gr'din's question. "I'm not doing any of the work, silly! I'm fine. I just wish she'd given me more of a warning so I could have sauntered across the bowl in a dignified fashion. She just doesn't seem to want to let me be dignified, though, my father's insistence or no."
Kenley strokes Farlian absently, totally entranced; he doesn't even realize he is still standing.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din ohs, looking a trifle self-conscious. "Is he here?" He glances back at the galleries with a trace of apprehension.
Jazra thumps the seat next to her and calls to Kenley. "OY! Kid! I got a spare seat! Stop standin in the way of other people like a dumbhead and come sit!" A bronze firelizard lets out a whistle to the other lizard, and a green firelizard sitting obediently on the greenrider's lap turns to look at Kenley.
Kenley sits down slowly, almost missing the seat next to Tiriana, asking, "This is so exciting! I have never done this before!" His eyes gleam with a curious brightness that makes him seem like a young child,
Cyrra glances around, seeming to have finally realized that there are a lot of people around and she is wearing a towel on her head. With a little cough, she pulls it off and sets it on her feet, then she sets about straightening her hair with her fingers and twisting it up to lay over her shoulder. Eyes never leave the sands for fear or missing a good look at a new egg.
Rilkie turns around at the sound of a voice addressing her, and grins once more. "Oh! Well I don't really know, of course. But see all the deep browns on the shell? It'd make a pretty dragon color, wouldn't it? But then, I'll admit to being partial."
Tavrie leans to the side a little and turns her head to grin in Jenivrys' direction. "Oh, don't worry about it, I don't mind," she notes and then blocks her words with a hand to send them as directly back to Jenivrys as possible, "I'd say it has so much brown in the shell that it will definately be a green," she offers her own opinion.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn glances back over her shoulder, scanning the galleries, then her eyes unfocus for a moment. "Aleith says he's out on sweeps right now, but that he sends his love and luck to both of us." She pauses after passing on the message, then frowns. "I wish he'd been here, then he could have gone and gotten my aunt and uncle."
From the hatching sands, Though time marches onward, Aleith's enthusiasm does not fade. While she moves more slowly to the next furrow dug by her bronze mate, when the white and brown egg has made its appearance, she gives it as much motherly attention as the rest, moving it until she's satisfied with its placement and leaving it to be buried by Sareith.
From the hatching sands,
Chips of Childhood's Best Egg
Round and plump, this egg's wide girth and light coloration create the illusion of a spherical shape rather than the normal ovoid. The vibrant look of this egg comes from its pallid, yet pristine undercoat of startling white. Here and there, flecks of darksome carob that vary in size and shape have been stirred throughout the brilliant whiteness covering the rest of the shell. The brown chips of color are small and trim, never overpowering the clean look that cradles this egg from apex to seat. Smeared in arcing loops along the very middle of the egg, thin streamers of interwoven pink and blue create a ribbon of color -- gentle and unobtrusive, yet somehow leaving their own signature upon the surface of the ovoid.
Ferros' curiousity wins over his awkardness and he gets up to move closer to those near the front. He jumps noticeably at Jazra's call and he self-conciously kneels lest he get yelled at too. His position looks very awkward as he tries to both look down at the sands while still staying out of other people's eyesight. Whispering, he asks Jazra, "Dya think I'm in anyone's way?"
From the hatching sands, Sareith sets to burying the egg with such enthusiasm, it's almost hard for the spectators to get a good look. At Olwyn's words, Grae relaxes slightly, nodding. "We'll make sure they get here when they hatch, though. I promise. My parents'll be headed over as well. And Jeni's already here - my youngest sister." So that's who the bronzer tossed into a seat earlier.
Jenivrys calls, "Thank you, ma'am," down to Rilkie before leaning in to Tavrie with a shy grin. "Well then... it could be a blue too, don't you think? These eggs /all/ have a lot of brown on them, don't they?"
Jazra grumbles to Kenley. "Its just a clutching. Look, she's got another one! I've been at Ista for awhile, so Liaoth and I have seen clutchings nearly everywhere, but I don't go to Telgar too often." The green, dusky in hue except for the tracks down her cheeks bright in color, turns her cold stare on Kenley.
Lost briefly in conversing with Gay, E'tyn misses a succession of eggs, for when the bovinish brown eyes lift again, there's four new-laid and fast disappearing eggs. "He's certainly doing his duties well," the bronzerider notes to the weyrwoman at his side, slipping a fond arm around Gay's waist, then continues in a light tease that sets his eyes atwinkling, "Can't imagine Niereth un-dignifying himself to such a degree to bury eggs, even for Lia."
From the hatching sands, Aleith pauses upon the sands to regard the galleries above, distracted or possibly just watching the watchers. When she moves again a new, wet egg is left behind, deposited without apparent sign of strain.
From the hatching sands,
Crystal Specks Egg
A plain pale green, smooth to the touch and soothing to the eye, this small simple egg is no showstopper. Just the same, when the light hits it right, flashes glint from rare spots of a more amber color, as if little chunks of crystallized ginger are embedded in the creamy green surface of the shell.
Tavrie grins and shrugs her shoulders in a noncommittal manner, smile friendly and warm. "You're right, it could be anything. And that's a good observation, they do seem to...alright, well maybe not that one," she indicates the new egg. "So much for that theory that was growing," Tavrie notes.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn gives Gr'din's hand another squeeze. "Thanks. I'd love for them to be here. They were always so kind even when I didn't fit into the hold life very well and they were genuinely glad for me when I finally Impressed." She looks behind, trying to spot who among the crowd the bronzerider is referring to, then returning her attention to him. "You'll have to introduce me to her after this."
From the hatching sands, Gr'din nods, comfortably lacing his fingers with Wyn's. "Absolutely. - Oooh, that one's got some sparkle to it. Really different from our clutch, aren't they? I didn't think they'd be so... damp." He considers the eggs drying in the hot sands as Rei hums softly to Aleith.
Rilkie takes a second to realize that 'ma'am' means her, and laughs. "Oh, of course." She turns back to watch the next eggs' arrival. Upon seeing it, she turns around once more, calling back towards Tavrie and Jenivrys, "Now I'd guess /that/ one to be blue. But then, it's just a guess. Green seems /too/ obvious. But I wouldn't place any marks."
From the hatching sands, The golden queen continues her search for just the right spot for each egg. This time, she finds it quickly, and sand flies as she digs a trench before Sareith can reach her side. Abruptly, she stops, having reached the proper depth, and soon another egg has appeared.
Jenivrys muffles a quiet snicker behind one hand. "Well, they can't -all- be browns. My name's Vrys, by the way. Grae... Gr'din," she nods toward the bronzerider on the sands, "He's my brother." A pause, and then she asks, "There isn't any way to tell what color will be inside, right? That's what the harper always said."
From the hatching sands,
Smoked Vellum Egg
Tiny and perfectly round, the gently curving shell's colour is near uniform; a warm, pale ecru. It smoothes blandly across its entirety, muted shading and size making it among the least noticeable of its fellows. On closer inspection, the colouring is more complex than it seems - the off-white mellowing into a smoky brown that meanders in a soft ribbon across the egg, from base to apex.
Ferros grimaces at the lack of response, and takes it to mean that since no one is yelling at him, he's not in anyone's way. He shuffles and rests his hands on his knees, settling himself more comfortably on the hard gallery floor. He twirls a loose strand of hair absentmindedly and watches the clutching continue in silence, tilting his head to get a better look at the latest egg.
Kenley says "Ooh! That egg would make a beautiful painting. I do not have much talent in that field, though."
From the hatching sands, Olwyn leans her head against Grae's shoulder as she watches their dragons. "Yes, very different. Lots of greens and browns and whites, but not many other colors. I wonder if any of the colors will change a bit as they dry and harden, like how some clothes look a different color when wet? I've never paid much attention to that sort of thing before."
Jazra shrugs. "Hunting's more my thing. I'm clumsy with a brush, so you're not alone." A second bronze firelizard jumps out of between and onto Jazra's shoulder. "I'm Jazra, green Liaoth's of Ista, Ista's duties. Your firelizard seems pretty lively. Most of mine are too, but Schiffer, my green here decided to join me, and she seems to have claimed my lap. I liked the egg that looked like a feline, but you may have missed it while you were spacing out like a dimglow." She snorts.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din leans his cheek against the top of Olwyn's head and murmurs to her, "Never had the reason to before Aleith, I'd wager. Shells, Wyn, never thought I'd be here." A smile crosses his lips. "But I'm extremely glad I am. - That's six. Nice sized all of them too, really."
From the hatching sands, Six eggs on the sands already, and Aleith shows no sign of stopping. The young queen casts about for just the right spot. Here? No. There? No. On the other side of the grounds? Still no. Sareith looks on, growing increasingly concerned. She hasn't had any difficulty before Finally Aleith marches over to her mate and shoves him gently, but firmly with one massive shoulder. Move over, you lump. You're /standing/ in the right spot!
From the hatching sands,
Mud and Ooze Egg
This egg is a dark black, reminiscent of the deep jungle mud of Nerat. The color rivals the sky at moons dark, when Belior and Timor refuse to show their faces and shine down on Pern. Rough patches of shell give texture to the mud, making it almost 'bubble' in places. Twined through this sticky-looking morass are ribbons of lighter beige and brown. Caramel ripples form into a patch near the bottom of the egg - irregular and lumpy it seems to defy the darkness, yet compliments it immensely.
Cyrra watches quietly, but her body language hints that she's listening to the conversations going on around her and making her own judgements -- slender eyebrows rise and fall with the chatter. Smiling softly, she props her head in her hands to watch more comfortably.
Tavrie shifts to smile at Rilkie and then at Vrys, seeming a little unsure who the introduction was for but happy to talk to both of them. "Gr'din's sister?" she queries, looking to the clutchsire's lifemate and nodding. "Ahh, it is a pleasure to meet you, Vrys. You must be proud of him," she offers kindly. "I'm Tavrie," she adds, then looks to Rilkie, curiously.
From the hatching sands, "Nope, I didn't," Olwyn agrees. "And the first time I was Searched, I wasn't at Fort yet, so I didn't see the clutching anyway." She falls silent again as she watches, then notes, "I'm glad I'm not the one having to give birth to so many at once. I wonder how many she'll lay?"
Kenley seems entranced as ever, and says to no one in particular, these eggs are so much more interesting than I expected. In Plateau Hold, we had nothing as exciting or interesting as this." It seems he is talking to no one in particular, or else himself.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din's eyes go a trifle distant and then he starts to snicker. "Rei seems to think that she should lay about fifty. It's a nice round number."
From the hatching sands, Pace through the sand, dig, lay, rinse and repeat. Aleith keeps moving onward and more eggs keep appearing on the sands thanks to her labors. A white and yellow speckled egg appears briefly before having sand thrown over it.
From the hatching sands,
Turnday Batter n' Bliss Egg
Large in size and rather thin, this egg looks as if it were scooped up and dangled over the sands until, after much clinging and stretching, it finally gave up its defiant grip and let go. A rich, butter cream yellow interspersed with gobs of gooey carob and smudges of whipped white leave this egg pleasantly pastel but not unbroken or bland. The colors swirl together as if they were stirred up and then spread over the surface of the egg like batter in a pan. Upon closer inspection, multi-colored sprinkles of lively red, blue, green and golden-yellow explode like confetti to create a party of color amidst the doughy yellow of the shell.
"Not as proud as he is of himself," laughs Jenivrys. "Well met, Tavrie. --Oh. Um." She leans in even closer to almost whisper, "Tavrie of /High Reaches/? /That/ Tavrie? Ma'am?"
From the hatching sands, Olwyn laughs. "That's easy for you to say, Sareith! You're not the one having to lay them!" Aleith grumbles, agreeing with her rider's sentiment.
Jazra sighs, carefully unwinding both Mancha and Hagaren off of her shoulders and setting them on either side. Mancha obeys, but Hagaren protests with a squawk. And of course, the green firelizard curled in her lap is being quiet, so she gets to stay. She looks left and right, spotting the Weyrleader pair a little ways away, picks up the two bronze firelizards and moves them despite a protesting squawk. "Oh, good day Weyrleader, Weyrwoman, it seems your Weyr's queen has outdone herself today. She looks rather young though." She peers curiously. "How old is she?" Both bronzes squirm the entire time until they're put down in Jazra's new seat. The green is far quieter, but tail thwacks them for their trouble when all is sorted out.
From the hatching sands, Sareith inspects this latest egg, and then nuzzles Aleith affectionately before looking over at Olwyn in amusement. He rumbles softly and Grae laughs. "He says that Aleith is strong and is capable of that and more. Otherwise she would not have been so hard to catch." The bronzer's voice has an echo of his lifemate's whiskey-smoke drawl in it.
From the hatching sands, Aleith is young, but this is still starting to wear on her. Almost as soon as she settles comfortably again, another ripple scores her side, warning of the next egg to arrive. Sareith has been sternly watching the galleries this time, half shielding his mate from their view. As she settles to deposit the next egg, he half-vanes his wings, blocking her from view until it is settled in its pile of sand.
From the hatching sands,
Violet Soot Egg
Though very dark, this charcoal gray egg shines with the soft wet gloss of a cold glass forming condensation in the heat. In its shine, hues of purple and blue may be found, colors that reflect curiously upon the sand around it as if the egg while still clutching-wet left there a blackish stain.
Kenley yawns. "I must be getting back home, or my mother will never let me hear the end of it."
Tavrie shakes her head and waves a hand dismissively, responding quietly. "Yes, but no. Please, I'm not one that likes to stand on ceremony much. And ma'am sounds so -old-," she notes. "Wow, now that one seems really different," she changes the subject, noting the newest egg to make its appearance.
Ferros squints as the next egg is laid to try and get a better look at it, frowning as the view is obscured by the clutchfather for a moment. He whistles under his breath at the appearance of the Violet Soot Egg. "Certainly different from its siblings. Nice n'dark." He chews on his bottom lip, slowly scanning the already clutched eggs.
Rilkie seems tired of craning her neck backwards, and makes her way up a tier or two towards a seat closer to Tavrie and Vrys. "Rilkie, brown Ancaith's," she says amiably. "Pleased to meet you both, Jenivrys, Tavrie." She seems about to use a term more formal for the goldrider, but overhears the woman's words just before she does. Her attention's half on the people she's introducing herself to, half still on the eggs. "The color of that one is just /beautiful,/" she says at the sight of the latest.
A bit stiffly, Vrys agrees, "No brown on it at all. So that'd be a... bronze?" She's clearly guessing, but just as clearly trying to return to the camaraderie of a few minutes ago. "It is, isn't it, ma'am?" she adds to Rilkie, before biting her lower lip and looking uncertain.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn laughs again. "Sareith is quite the flatterer, isn't he?" Then she sobers as Aleith begins to have to strain to continue to lay the eggs. She sits up straight and scoots to the edge of the bench, ready to leap up to help if needed, even if there might not be anything she can do.
From the hatching sands, Aleith grumbles faintly under her breath, though she noses gently at Sareith. The bronze immediately turns to putty, fussing over her. An amused snort from her directs him out to start digging another couple of holes in the sand. After he's finished, she inspects them, and finds one to her liking to cradle this next egg.
From the hatching sands,
Honeydew Froth Egg
This egg begins with a wave of pale green at its top. Closer inspection reveals a cluster of little circles, giving it a bubbly appearance like froth floating upwards - if not for the ring mirroring it at its bottom. These two markings fade towards the middle as a bold, nearly lurid green for the rest of the shell. Save for the two rings of 'froth,' this large egg is unmarked and straightforward.
Tavrie shifts a little in her seat when Rilkie moves up. "Oh, Ancaith? Handsome name, indeed. I'm gold Nabrimeth's," she offers. "Wait, were you from the same clutch as Olwyn and Aleith?" she queries, looking thoughtful. Hearing the excitement around them, Tavrie turns and then shifts sideways to see the green egg that is currently garnering attention. "Hmm, another blue," she half-teases Rilkie.
Gay speaks low words to E'tyn and flashes one of her charming smiles, to which the young Weyrleader nods. "Good evening all," he says in parting for the two of them. The two rise and make their way on out.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din agrees with Olwyn, "Besotted. Completely besotted. Which is not a bad thing, mind you." He twists slightly to glance back up in the galleries and waves up to Rilkie, pulling away slightly from Olwyn so as not to shout in her ear, "Hey, Rilkie! Can I have tomorrow morning off, wingleader?" An engaging grin accompanies the words. Notice he /did/ wait until the Weyrleader left before trying this tactic.
From the hatching sands, Sareith croons encouragement to the increasingly tired Aleith. He's fair danced attendance on her as she holds her labors, much like a fussy husband would over a first time mother a'birthing. As the queen rumbles a quiet command, he obediently digs out another hole - only to have her deposit the next egg before he was finished digging.
From the hatching sands,
Phishy Egg
There's something strange about this little egg, one of the last to appear on the sands. For one, it seems almost undersized and half finished, much smaller than the others. For another, there are strange black shapes speckled liberally across the shell. The shell itself is no different to many dragon eggs: cream and soft browns mixed with just a dollop of caramel swirled in. Yet those strange shapes, a sort of oval mixed with a triangle, peep half hidden among the ribbons of color. Dark black and oblong, an imaginative soul might fancy them strange fish, drowning in a sea of rich colors.
Rilkie laughs and shakes her head. "If you're not calling Tavrie ma'am, then you're not calling me, either!" She says, grinning at Vrys. "Since I'm sure I don't outnumber your Turns, anyway. And that makes me feel /old./" A glance back to the dusky-purple egg. "I could see a bronze emerging from that shell. As for that one--" The brownrider considers Tavrie's suggestion. "Maybe a blue. And yes, I was!" The question of her clutchmates is answered brightly. "Gr'din and Sareith, too. Makes it all the more exciting."
From the hatching sands, Olwyn's concern drops from her face for a moment as she smiles slyly at Gr'din. "Surely he's not the only one besotted," she purrs, then turns to gaze on her dragon again, squirming a bit in her anxiety.
Jenivrys's just a simple Hold girl - Gr'din calling Rilkie /Wingleader/ just about breaks her head. Then add to that, "--Sareith and the gold ar /clutchmates/?" She leans back in her seat, lips pressed together, and steadfastly does -not- look at the dragon pair. Of course, that leaves her only two things to look at: either the eggs, or Gr'din and Olwyn getting all cuddly down there on that bench. Hastily she yanks her eyes back to the eggs.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din removes his hand from Olwyn's, in order to put it securely about her waist. Cuddly? You bet. And not the least ashamed to show it either. He keeps half an ear back for Rilkie's answer as he says, " can't imagine what would give you that idea," he teases back.
From the hatching sands, The weary queen dragon stops to rest a moment. When Sareith approaches her in concern, she nuzzles the bronze lovingly, the rests her head on his back. With an effort, she heaves herself back to her feet. No more extreme efforts to find just the right spot. This time, she takes just a few steps away, digs a shallow trench, and with a sigh, lays another egg. She croons over it, then leaves the job of burying it to Sareith. When her mate joins her in the spot she picked away from all the eggs, she curls up with him and goes to sleep under his watchful eye.
From the hatching sands,
Frothy Spring Egg
With pale bright green gleaming over its surface, this average-sized egg is the fresh shade of new shoots and limes. At the top of the shell, the green fades up into a frothy white; towards the base, it deepens, studded with sandy golden brown clumps that make it difficult to see where the Sands start and the base ends. Though the combination of colours is odd, there's something pleasing and almost appetizing about the way they come together.
Tavrie smirks when Rilkie refuses the evil 'ma'am' as well, smirking at what she has managed to start. Her grin turns to a frown when Jenivrys' expression changes. "Does it upset you? It must sound odd. I didn't understand at first, but I guess that is just how it goes," she says softly, looking more serious.
From the hatching sands, Sareith spreads a wing over his mate, and then gives the folk still watching in the galleries a repressive eye. Hey. Lady sleeping here! Shush with the chatter.
Blinking in surprise at the sudden finish, as if she might have been daydreaming a but, Cyrra pops right up and scoots before the too many people decide to do so. The lithe girl makes a line for the door, slipping around others quickly and quietly.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn remains tense despite the arm around her for a few more minutes, but as the queen settles down to sleep, apparently no worse the wear despite her ordeal, she relaxes again. "Oh, I don't know, a lucky guess," she returns to teasing the bronzerider. "Let's see, that's...," she goes quiet as she counts the lumps on the sands, "twelve eggs. Not bad for a first clutch in a sort-of Interval."
Jazra sighs dreamily, face open and vulnerable just for a moment, before she heads up for the ledges. The two bronze firelizards flit up and away and disappear, but the green simply droops herself over Jazra's shoulder and goes to sleep. She turns and walks away, humming a soft tune under her breath as she leaves.
Rilkie, the Weyrbred rider, just seems surprised that the idea bothers Jenivrys. "Well-- yes? Not really a big deal for dragons." As she speaks, she catches sight of the gold curling up to sleep. "Oh! Is that the end? Bravo!" She claps, turning to look at Tavrie and Vrys. "What did you think?"
From the hatching sands, Gr'din says lightly, "Their next one will be bigger." A bit of a grin at the goldrider, and then says, "They should be finished putting the feast together. Should we head that way? And I can introduce you to my baby sister."
"It'd be like... like me and Dindin!" Vrys says, aghast. "That's just... Oh!" She shudders as if that will dispel the very idea, then firmly Changes the Subject. "Is... that a big clutch? It's certainly very... brown."
From the hatching sands, "Sounds good," Olwyn agrees and stands. She reluctantly releases Grae's hand, turning to look at the crowd. She gulps a bit, then tries to project her voice to everyone still lingering. "Thank you all for coming out. There should be food for everyone in the Living Cavern now."
Tavrie smiles and nods at Rilkie. "I think it was a lovely first clutch, but then, I don't think there could ever be a clutch that isn't appreciated, though I know the difference in colors can be admired differently," she notes. When Olwyn thanks them, Tavrie offers a wave and a blown kiss. "A lovely clutch, congratulations," she calls back. Tavrie smiles almost sympathetically at Vrys. "Well, it was a pleasure chatting with you. Hopefully, I'll have the pleasure of doing so again...and not before too long! But for now, I had best get home and leave off going to the Living Cavern. I might eat too much and embarrass High Reaches," she says. Then, the goldrider rises and heads off, pausing once to wave to the pair again before slipping out into the bowl with a few others that seem to have High Reaches Knots.
"Dindin?" Rilkie asks, grinning as she figures who this must refer to. "And yes, it was very good for a first clutch," she seconds Tavrie, then waves to the rider as the 'Reachian departs. "Fair skies!" Back to Vrys, she asks conspiratorially, "You call him Dindin? What'd happen if /I/ called him that?"
From the hatching sands, Gr'din gestures for Wyn to preceed him out, though he looks up at the 'dindin' comment. Shells, he owned up to it. He scowls at his baby sister, points at her, and then points at the stairs to the bowl.
Jenivrys scrubs at her cheeks, though it does nothing to alleviate the blushing. She does manage to call a very polite, "Duties to the High Reaches and your queen, ma... Tavrie," before leaning in to the young rider. "I used to call him Dindin when I was little, because I couldn't say 'Graedin'. He'd probably growl a lot, and glare at me. Do you want to try?"
Olwyn moves out at Gr'din's gesture, though she manages to catch part of the conversation about him. She looks over her shoulder and mouths, "Dindin?" at him, clearly trying to refrain from giggling. "Shall we, ladies?" she asks the stragglers, turning her attention back to Rilkie and Jenivrys.
"Oh no! Not right now. I'm going to save that one for a time it might come in handy." Rilkie has a plotting look on her face, but one that speaks of it all being in good fun. She grins at Olwyn as the goldrider approaches. "Congratulations! Wonderful clutch. The eggs are just beautiful!"
"Thanks, Rilkie! I didn't do anything, though, I just stood back and watch those two work," Olwyn states modestly. She gives both women a smile, then follows the grumpy Gr'din out of the galleries and in the direction of the living caverns.
Vrys affects a look of total innocence at her brother, though the effect is quite spoiled by her high color. She snickers and hops to her feet, dropping Olwyn a curtsey. "They're very nice, ma'am." Then to Rilkie, "I'd better get after him. He said he was going to collect me, after. It's after, so I guess that was collecting, huh?"
"I believe so," Rilkie says with a smile. "And I think I'll follow. Never turn down a celebration with good food like this."
What: Aleith's eggs arrive, and there is much rejoicing. Rilkie hopes for more brown dragons.
Where: Galleries, Telgar Weyr
Galleries, Telgar Weyr
Stretching along the eastern wall of the hatching cavern, these tiers of seats have enough room for several hundred spectators for clutchings and hatchings. To one side, long shallow steps descend to the entrance. There is also a railing separating the lowest tier of seats from the hatching sands themselves. Other parts of the galleries are closed off from the sands by a wall to the north and south. From here you can reenter the bowl, or follow the pathway down to the sands.
From the hatching sands, With great suddenness, the egg-heavy queen had leapt from her sunny ledge, flapping heavily across the bowl and into her place of birth. Olwyn, after a few minutes realization, had chased after her and now perches at the edge of the sands on a lower bench.
From the hatching sands, Aleith paces around the Hatching Grounds anxiously, her usual grace impeded by the eggs bulging in her abdomen. She stops here and there, smoothing the sand to her liking. Finally, she moves to the center of the sands and enthusiastically digs a hole before positioning herself above it. When she moves, a green egg has been laid, and she pauses to admire it lovingly before moving on.
From the hatching sands,
Swirls and Specks Egg
Swaths of color mark this egg, rangy from a creamy white on one end and progressing through myriad shades of green. Pale green, glows green, the greens of the leaves in a Southern rainforest, a fluorescent green that no weaver could match the color of, all twist and writhe about this egg. Distributed among the swirling colors are bits of a deep brown, some sprinkles as fine as sand, others like large pebbles. These chunks of almost black break up the smooth progression of the greens and make parts of the egg difficult to focus on for very long.
In the wake of Aleith's movements, a bugle rises into the air. Proceeding this is E'tyn and Gay's arrival to the clutching, their steps slow and low conversation impeding their quick arrival. Once there, however, the Weyrleaders make their way through the crowd, greeting various people and finding a seat somewhere near the front.
From the hatching sands, Sareith was winging in just behind his mate, eyes wheeling anxiously and crooning softly to her. As she deposits the first egg on the sands, the bronze eyes it for a moment, as if to say 'this is what all the fuss was about?' before turning his head to nuzzle the gold and making a fuss over her.
Jazra comes into the galleries at a liesurely pace, neutral expression on her face as she regards the sands. "Oh good, its begun." She moves for a good space to sit, not really caring where. The greenrider simply puts her elbow on her knee, rests her chin on her hand.
Ferros filters in with the rest of the crowd, his excited look, eager eyes, and raised eyebrows betraying him as someone who isn't used to clutches. He looks at the quickly filling seats and shifts his weight anxiously, uncertain of where to go. He gives a surprised jump as the first egg makes its appearance and mumbles, "Gosh, that was fast."
Gr'din comes rushing up the steps, dragging a dark-haired teenager along with him. "Here-" he all but shoves her at a seat. "I'll come get you afterwards." And without a word of explaination to Jenivrys, or to anyone around who she is, he pelts down the stairs towards the sands.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn holds her breath as Aleith finally pauses, then claps in delight as the first egg appears. "Wonderful job, Aleith!" she praises her dragon, then subsides into anxious watchfulness.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din comes pelting down the gallery stairs after all but shoving a dark haired girl into a seat. "Scorch it! I missed the first one! - We got caught in the dorms, showing Jeni around," he babbles to Olwyn, plopping into a spot nxt to her.
From the hatching sands, A concerned Sareith looks on and croons encouragingly as Aleith's golden sides ripple and contract for a few agonizingly long moments until, finally, a small orange and black egg plops out. That much work seems wasted on such a small egg, but a furrow is lovingly dug in the sands for it by Sareith all the same.
Cyrra, sporting a towel over her wet hair like a cowel, hurries into the hatching cavern and finds herself a seat with eager eyes. Excitement for one of her clutchsibs has the normally jittery girl looking almost at home in the slowly filling seats.
From the hatching sands,
Endless Claws And Tails Egg
Sharp zigzags of orange and black harshly cut their way across most of this egg's shell, reminiscent of a holiday long forgotten and exotic felines rarely seen on the Southern Continent. Near the top and bottom of the shell, the lines gradually become less solid, the colors mixing together to form gentle swirls, like the swishing of a playful feline's tail. On the smaller side, this egg would easily be lost among the sands and its myriad of siblings if it weren't for its starkly contrasting colors and sharp lines.
Jenivrys keeps quiet all the while she's hustled up the steps and unceremoniously dropped into a seat. "Figures," she scowls after the bronzerider, making a show of adjusting her clothing before turning to the woman next to her. "Men. No manners whatsoever."
Rilkie arrives at the clutching, hurrying to find herself a good seat before they're all taken. Spying one next to a fellow rider, she slides into it and asks "What's happened so far?" And then she looks out onto the sands, catching sight of the gold laying her second egg. "Oh, my! That one's... pretty, isn't it? In a unique way."
From the hatching sands, Olwyn reaches out a hand to squeeze Gr'din's. "It's okay, you're here to see the rest," she says soothingly. "And both of them seem okay with it, so don't worry about it. You're here now," she finishes, giving him a smile, then glancing back into the filling galleries.
"Two so far," E'tyn notes, as he overhears Rilkie. The young Weyrleader turns, flashing the brownrider a quick, unhesitanting grin. "Haven't missed much."
Jazra takes a second glance at the orange and black shell. "An egg with attitude, nice one." She turns, having also heard E'tyn and Rilkie. "The first one was pretty colorful, Weyrleader, but if the hatchling that comes out of that second one though, is anything like the egg's shell? You'll have one shelluva fighter on your hands."
Ferros manages to sidle his way into a seat near the back of the galleries, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. He sits up as straight as he can, craning his neck to keep an eye the sands. He squints as the second egg makes an appearance and his eyebrows rise slightly. "Didn't know they came in such colors," he remarks quietly.
From the hatching sands, Aleith gives a startled little grunt, sides heaving. When she arises from her resting place, there is another egg on the sands, the light colors showing up starkly. With gentle motions, she rolls the third egg of the clutch into just the right spot, as Sareith looks on proudly.
From the hatching sands,
Luxuriant Sisal Egg
If it had been a canvas, this smooth egg would have surely started off as soft, neutral ivory. This shade of white has been suffocated almost completely by the thick, silky drizzles of darkness wrapping about its entirety, decadent dark browns sweeping liberally across the shell in textured brush strokes. Bordering every bit of the brown is a darker, vibrant crimson, showing brightly against the scant edges of remaining white and managing to take center stage.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din beams at Olwyn, and then turns that grin on his bronze as he gets into the swing of things, digging out a hole. "You feeling okay, Wyn? Need anything to drink or anything?" He's hovering just about as much as Sareith is, for all he's sitting next to the goldrider.
Kenley stares absently as his firelizard tries to fill him in in his limited way.
"Phew!" Rilkie says, grinning back at the Weyrleader. "Would've been sad if I'd missed too many." Hearing Jazra, she turns to the visiting rider. "Hm, that we would. Maybe a brown?" Of course, her bias. Then the third egg arrives-- "Now that one /has/ to be a brown. It'd only be fitting."
Tavrie enters the hatching cavern casually, but with an air of pleasure and a content grin. "This seat taken?" she asks an auntie with an open seat. Recieving the okay, she slides into the seat and settles in, looking around at the other guests for a moment and then having a look at the beginnings of the clutch that are emerging.
Jenivrys leans forward, catching Rilkie's comments. "Excuse me," she calls down to the brownrider, "Why do you think that one's a brown? --Pardon me for yelling in your ear," she adds as Tavrie slides into the seat in front of her.
From the hatching sands, Sareith rumbles to Aleith, pleased, and sets out to start digging more holes. This he accomplishes with gusto, quickly beginning to pockmark the area closest to the gallery tiers.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn giggles at Gr'din's question. "I'm not doing any of the work, silly! I'm fine. I just wish she'd given me more of a warning so I could have sauntered across the bowl in a dignified fashion. She just doesn't seem to want to let me be dignified, though, my father's insistence or no."
Kenley strokes Farlian absently, totally entranced; he doesn't even realize he is still standing.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din ohs, looking a trifle self-conscious. "Is he here?" He glances back at the galleries with a trace of apprehension.
Jazra thumps the seat next to her and calls to Kenley. "OY! Kid! I got a spare seat! Stop standin in the way of other people like a dumbhead and come sit!" A bronze firelizard lets out a whistle to the other lizard, and a green firelizard sitting obediently on the greenrider's lap turns to look at Kenley.
Kenley sits down slowly, almost missing the seat next to Tiriana, asking, "This is so exciting! I have never done this before!" His eyes gleam with a curious brightness that makes him seem like a young child,
Cyrra glances around, seeming to have finally realized that there are a lot of people around and she is wearing a towel on her head. With a little cough, she pulls it off and sets it on her feet, then she sets about straightening her hair with her fingers and twisting it up to lay over her shoulder. Eyes never leave the sands for fear or missing a good look at a new egg.
Rilkie turns around at the sound of a voice addressing her, and grins once more. "Oh! Well I don't really know, of course. But see all the deep browns on the shell? It'd make a pretty dragon color, wouldn't it? But then, I'll admit to being partial."
Tavrie leans to the side a little and turns her head to grin in Jenivrys' direction. "Oh, don't worry about it, I don't mind," she notes and then blocks her words with a hand to send them as directly back to Jenivrys as possible, "I'd say it has so much brown in the shell that it will definately be a green," she offers her own opinion.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn glances back over her shoulder, scanning the galleries, then her eyes unfocus for a moment. "Aleith says he's out on sweeps right now, but that he sends his love and luck to both of us." She pauses after passing on the message, then frowns. "I wish he'd been here, then he could have gone and gotten my aunt and uncle."
From the hatching sands, Though time marches onward, Aleith's enthusiasm does not fade. While she moves more slowly to the next furrow dug by her bronze mate, when the white and brown egg has made its appearance, she gives it as much motherly attention as the rest, moving it until she's satisfied with its placement and leaving it to be buried by Sareith.
From the hatching sands,
Chips of Childhood's Best Egg
Round and plump, this egg's wide girth and light coloration create the illusion of a spherical shape rather than the normal ovoid. The vibrant look of this egg comes from its pallid, yet pristine undercoat of startling white. Here and there, flecks of darksome carob that vary in size and shape have been stirred throughout the brilliant whiteness covering the rest of the shell. The brown chips of color are small and trim, never overpowering the clean look that cradles this egg from apex to seat. Smeared in arcing loops along the very middle of the egg, thin streamers of interwoven pink and blue create a ribbon of color -- gentle and unobtrusive, yet somehow leaving their own signature upon the surface of the ovoid.
Ferros' curiousity wins over his awkardness and he gets up to move closer to those near the front. He jumps noticeably at Jazra's call and he self-conciously kneels lest he get yelled at too. His position looks very awkward as he tries to both look down at the sands while still staying out of other people's eyesight. Whispering, he asks Jazra, "Dya think I'm in anyone's way?"
From the hatching sands, Sareith sets to burying the egg with such enthusiasm, it's almost hard for the spectators to get a good look. At Olwyn's words, Grae relaxes slightly, nodding. "We'll make sure they get here when they hatch, though. I promise. My parents'll be headed over as well. And Jeni's already here - my youngest sister." So that's who the bronzer tossed into a seat earlier.
Jenivrys calls, "Thank you, ma'am," down to Rilkie before leaning in to Tavrie with a shy grin. "Well then... it could be a blue too, don't you think? These eggs /all/ have a lot of brown on them, don't they?"
Jazra grumbles to Kenley. "Its just a clutching. Look, she's got another one! I've been at Ista for awhile, so Liaoth and I have seen clutchings nearly everywhere, but I don't go to Telgar too often." The green, dusky in hue except for the tracks down her cheeks bright in color, turns her cold stare on Kenley.
Lost briefly in conversing with Gay, E'tyn misses a succession of eggs, for when the bovinish brown eyes lift again, there's four new-laid and fast disappearing eggs. "He's certainly doing his duties well," the bronzerider notes to the weyrwoman at his side, slipping a fond arm around Gay's waist, then continues in a light tease that sets his eyes atwinkling, "Can't imagine Niereth un-dignifying himself to such a degree to bury eggs, even for Lia."
From the hatching sands, Aleith pauses upon the sands to regard the galleries above, distracted or possibly just watching the watchers. When she moves again a new, wet egg is left behind, deposited without apparent sign of strain.
From the hatching sands,
Crystal Specks Egg
A plain pale green, smooth to the touch and soothing to the eye, this small simple egg is no showstopper. Just the same, when the light hits it right, flashes glint from rare spots of a more amber color, as if little chunks of crystallized ginger are embedded in the creamy green surface of the shell.
Tavrie grins and shrugs her shoulders in a noncommittal manner, smile friendly and warm. "You're right, it could be anything. And that's a good observation, they do seem to...alright, well maybe not that one," she indicates the new egg. "So much for that theory that was growing," Tavrie notes.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn gives Gr'din's hand another squeeze. "Thanks. I'd love for them to be here. They were always so kind even when I didn't fit into the hold life very well and they were genuinely glad for me when I finally Impressed." She looks behind, trying to spot who among the crowd the bronzerider is referring to, then returning her attention to him. "You'll have to introduce me to her after this."
From the hatching sands, Gr'din nods, comfortably lacing his fingers with Wyn's. "Absolutely. - Oooh, that one's got some sparkle to it. Really different from our clutch, aren't they? I didn't think they'd be so... damp." He considers the eggs drying in the hot sands as Rei hums softly to Aleith.
Rilkie takes a second to realize that 'ma'am' means her, and laughs. "Oh, of course." She turns back to watch the next eggs' arrival. Upon seeing it, she turns around once more, calling back towards Tavrie and Jenivrys, "Now I'd guess /that/ one to be blue. But then, it's just a guess. Green seems /too/ obvious. But I wouldn't place any marks."
From the hatching sands, The golden queen continues her search for just the right spot for each egg. This time, she finds it quickly, and sand flies as she digs a trench before Sareith can reach her side. Abruptly, she stops, having reached the proper depth, and soon another egg has appeared.
Jenivrys muffles a quiet snicker behind one hand. "Well, they can't -all- be browns. My name's Vrys, by the way. Grae... Gr'din," she nods toward the bronzerider on the sands, "He's my brother." A pause, and then she asks, "There isn't any way to tell what color will be inside, right? That's what the harper always said."
From the hatching sands,
Smoked Vellum Egg
Tiny and perfectly round, the gently curving shell's colour is near uniform; a warm, pale ecru. It smoothes blandly across its entirety, muted shading and size making it among the least noticeable of its fellows. On closer inspection, the colouring is more complex than it seems - the off-white mellowing into a smoky brown that meanders in a soft ribbon across the egg, from base to apex.
Ferros grimaces at the lack of response, and takes it to mean that since no one is yelling at him, he's not in anyone's way. He shuffles and rests his hands on his knees, settling himself more comfortably on the hard gallery floor. He twirls a loose strand of hair absentmindedly and watches the clutching continue in silence, tilting his head to get a better look at the latest egg.
Kenley says "Ooh! That egg would make a beautiful painting. I do not have much talent in that field, though."
From the hatching sands, Olwyn leans her head against Grae's shoulder as she watches their dragons. "Yes, very different. Lots of greens and browns and whites, but not many other colors. I wonder if any of the colors will change a bit as they dry and harden, like how some clothes look a different color when wet? I've never paid much attention to that sort of thing before."
Jazra shrugs. "Hunting's more my thing. I'm clumsy with a brush, so you're not alone." A second bronze firelizard jumps out of between and onto Jazra's shoulder. "I'm Jazra, green Liaoth's of Ista, Ista's duties. Your firelizard seems pretty lively. Most of mine are too, but Schiffer, my green here decided to join me, and she seems to have claimed my lap. I liked the egg that looked like a feline, but you may have missed it while you were spacing out like a dimglow." She snorts.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din leans his cheek against the top of Olwyn's head and murmurs to her, "Never had the reason to before Aleith, I'd wager. Shells, Wyn, never thought I'd be here." A smile crosses his lips. "But I'm extremely glad I am. - That's six. Nice sized all of them too, really."
From the hatching sands, Six eggs on the sands already, and Aleith shows no sign of stopping. The young queen casts about for just the right spot. Here? No. There? No. On the other side of the grounds? Still no. Sareith looks on, growing increasingly concerned. She hasn't had any difficulty before Finally Aleith marches over to her mate and shoves him gently, but firmly with one massive shoulder. Move over, you lump. You're /standing/ in the right spot!
From the hatching sands,
Mud and Ooze Egg
This egg is a dark black, reminiscent of the deep jungle mud of Nerat. The color rivals the sky at moons dark, when Belior and Timor refuse to show their faces and shine down on Pern. Rough patches of shell give texture to the mud, making it almost 'bubble' in places. Twined through this sticky-looking morass are ribbons of lighter beige and brown. Caramel ripples form into a patch near the bottom of the egg - irregular and lumpy it seems to defy the darkness, yet compliments it immensely.
Cyrra watches quietly, but her body language hints that she's listening to the conversations going on around her and making her own judgements -- slender eyebrows rise and fall with the chatter. Smiling softly, she props her head in her hands to watch more comfortably.
Tavrie shifts to smile at Rilkie and then at Vrys, seeming a little unsure who the introduction was for but happy to talk to both of them. "Gr'din's sister?" she queries, looking to the clutchsire's lifemate and nodding. "Ahh, it is a pleasure to meet you, Vrys. You must be proud of him," she offers kindly. "I'm Tavrie," she adds, then looks to Rilkie, curiously.
From the hatching sands, "Nope, I didn't," Olwyn agrees. "And the first time I was Searched, I wasn't at Fort yet, so I didn't see the clutching anyway." She falls silent again as she watches, then notes, "I'm glad I'm not the one having to give birth to so many at once. I wonder how many she'll lay?"
Kenley seems entranced as ever, and says to no one in particular, these eggs are so much more interesting than I expected. In Plateau Hold, we had nothing as exciting or interesting as this." It seems he is talking to no one in particular, or else himself.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din's eyes go a trifle distant and then he starts to snicker. "Rei seems to think that she should lay about fifty. It's a nice round number."
From the hatching sands, Pace through the sand, dig, lay, rinse and repeat. Aleith keeps moving onward and more eggs keep appearing on the sands thanks to her labors. A white and yellow speckled egg appears briefly before having sand thrown over it.
From the hatching sands,
Turnday Batter n' Bliss Egg
Large in size and rather thin, this egg looks as if it were scooped up and dangled over the sands until, after much clinging and stretching, it finally gave up its defiant grip and let go. A rich, butter cream yellow interspersed with gobs of gooey carob and smudges of whipped white leave this egg pleasantly pastel but not unbroken or bland. The colors swirl together as if they were stirred up and then spread over the surface of the egg like batter in a pan. Upon closer inspection, multi-colored sprinkles of lively red, blue, green and golden-yellow explode like confetti to create a party of color amidst the doughy yellow of the shell.
"Not as proud as he is of himself," laughs Jenivrys. "Well met, Tavrie. --Oh. Um." She leans in even closer to almost whisper, "Tavrie of /High Reaches/? /That/ Tavrie? Ma'am?"
From the hatching sands, Olwyn laughs. "That's easy for you to say, Sareith! You're not the one having to lay them!" Aleith grumbles, agreeing with her rider's sentiment.
Jazra sighs, carefully unwinding both Mancha and Hagaren off of her shoulders and setting them on either side. Mancha obeys, but Hagaren protests with a squawk. And of course, the green firelizard curled in her lap is being quiet, so she gets to stay. She looks left and right, spotting the Weyrleader pair a little ways away, picks up the two bronze firelizards and moves them despite a protesting squawk. "Oh, good day Weyrleader, Weyrwoman, it seems your Weyr's queen has outdone herself today. She looks rather young though." She peers curiously. "How old is she?" Both bronzes squirm the entire time until they're put down in Jazra's new seat. The green is far quieter, but tail thwacks them for their trouble when all is sorted out.
From the hatching sands, Sareith inspects this latest egg, and then nuzzles Aleith affectionately before looking over at Olwyn in amusement. He rumbles softly and Grae laughs. "He says that Aleith is strong and is capable of that and more. Otherwise she would not have been so hard to catch." The bronzer's voice has an echo of his lifemate's whiskey-smoke drawl in it.
From the hatching sands, Aleith is young, but this is still starting to wear on her. Almost as soon as she settles comfortably again, another ripple scores her side, warning of the next egg to arrive. Sareith has been sternly watching the galleries this time, half shielding his mate from their view. As she settles to deposit the next egg, he half-vanes his wings, blocking her from view until it is settled in its pile of sand.
From the hatching sands,
Violet Soot Egg
Though very dark, this charcoal gray egg shines with the soft wet gloss of a cold glass forming condensation in the heat. In its shine, hues of purple and blue may be found, colors that reflect curiously upon the sand around it as if the egg while still clutching-wet left there a blackish stain.
Kenley yawns. "I must be getting back home, or my mother will never let me hear the end of it."
Tavrie shakes her head and waves a hand dismissively, responding quietly. "Yes, but no. Please, I'm not one that likes to stand on ceremony much. And ma'am sounds so -old-," she notes. "Wow, now that one seems really different," she changes the subject, noting the newest egg to make its appearance.
Ferros squints as the next egg is laid to try and get a better look at it, frowning as the view is obscured by the clutchfather for a moment. He whistles under his breath at the appearance of the Violet Soot Egg. "Certainly different from its siblings. Nice n'dark." He chews on his bottom lip, slowly scanning the already clutched eggs.
Rilkie seems tired of craning her neck backwards, and makes her way up a tier or two towards a seat closer to Tavrie and Vrys. "Rilkie, brown Ancaith's," she says amiably. "Pleased to meet you both, Jenivrys, Tavrie." She seems about to use a term more formal for the goldrider, but overhears the woman's words just before she does. Her attention's half on the people she's introducing herself to, half still on the eggs. "The color of that one is just /beautiful,/" she says at the sight of the latest.
A bit stiffly, Vrys agrees, "No brown on it at all. So that'd be a... bronze?" She's clearly guessing, but just as clearly trying to return to the camaraderie of a few minutes ago. "It is, isn't it, ma'am?" she adds to Rilkie, before biting her lower lip and looking uncertain.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn laughs again. "Sareith is quite the flatterer, isn't he?" Then she sobers as Aleith begins to have to strain to continue to lay the eggs. She sits up straight and scoots to the edge of the bench, ready to leap up to help if needed, even if there might not be anything she can do.
From the hatching sands, Aleith grumbles faintly under her breath, though she noses gently at Sareith. The bronze immediately turns to putty, fussing over her. An amused snort from her directs him out to start digging another couple of holes in the sand. After he's finished, she inspects them, and finds one to her liking to cradle this next egg.
From the hatching sands,
Honeydew Froth Egg
This egg begins with a wave of pale green at its top. Closer inspection reveals a cluster of little circles, giving it a bubbly appearance like froth floating upwards - if not for the ring mirroring it at its bottom. These two markings fade towards the middle as a bold, nearly lurid green for the rest of the shell. Save for the two rings of 'froth,' this large egg is unmarked and straightforward.
Tavrie shifts a little in her seat when Rilkie moves up. "Oh, Ancaith? Handsome name, indeed. I'm gold Nabrimeth's," she offers. "Wait, were you from the same clutch as Olwyn and Aleith?" she queries, looking thoughtful. Hearing the excitement around them, Tavrie turns and then shifts sideways to see the green egg that is currently garnering attention. "Hmm, another blue," she half-teases Rilkie.
Gay speaks low words to E'tyn and flashes one of her charming smiles, to which the young Weyrleader nods. "Good evening all," he says in parting for the two of them. The two rise and make their way on out.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din agrees with Olwyn, "Besotted. Completely besotted. Which is not a bad thing, mind you." He twists slightly to glance back up in the galleries and waves up to Rilkie, pulling away slightly from Olwyn so as not to shout in her ear, "Hey, Rilkie! Can I have tomorrow morning off, wingleader?" An engaging grin accompanies the words. Notice he /did/ wait until the Weyrleader left before trying this tactic.
From the hatching sands, Sareith croons encouragement to the increasingly tired Aleith. He's fair danced attendance on her as she holds her labors, much like a fussy husband would over a first time mother a'birthing. As the queen rumbles a quiet command, he obediently digs out another hole - only to have her deposit the next egg before he was finished digging.
From the hatching sands,
Phishy Egg
There's something strange about this little egg, one of the last to appear on the sands. For one, it seems almost undersized and half finished, much smaller than the others. For another, there are strange black shapes speckled liberally across the shell. The shell itself is no different to many dragon eggs: cream and soft browns mixed with just a dollop of caramel swirled in. Yet those strange shapes, a sort of oval mixed with a triangle, peep half hidden among the ribbons of color. Dark black and oblong, an imaginative soul might fancy them strange fish, drowning in a sea of rich colors.
Rilkie laughs and shakes her head. "If you're not calling Tavrie ma'am, then you're not calling me, either!" She says, grinning at Vrys. "Since I'm sure I don't outnumber your Turns, anyway. And that makes me feel /old./" A glance back to the dusky-purple egg. "I could see a bronze emerging from that shell. As for that one--" The brownrider considers Tavrie's suggestion. "Maybe a blue. And yes, I was!" The question of her clutchmates is answered brightly. "Gr'din and Sareith, too. Makes it all the more exciting."
From the hatching sands, Olwyn's concern drops from her face for a moment as she smiles slyly at Gr'din. "Surely he's not the only one besotted," she purrs, then turns to gaze on her dragon again, squirming a bit in her anxiety.
Jenivrys's just a simple Hold girl - Gr'din calling Rilkie /Wingleader/ just about breaks her head. Then add to that, "--Sareith and the gold ar /clutchmates/?" She leans back in her seat, lips pressed together, and steadfastly does -not- look at the dragon pair. Of course, that leaves her only two things to look at: either the eggs, or Gr'din and Olwyn getting all cuddly down there on that bench. Hastily she yanks her eyes back to the eggs.
From the hatching sands, Gr'din removes his hand from Olwyn's, in order to put it securely about her waist. Cuddly? You bet. And not the least ashamed to show it either. He keeps half an ear back for Rilkie's answer as he says, " can't imagine what would give you that idea," he teases back.
From the hatching sands, The weary queen dragon stops to rest a moment. When Sareith approaches her in concern, she nuzzles the bronze lovingly, the rests her head on his back. With an effort, she heaves herself back to her feet. No more extreme efforts to find just the right spot. This time, she takes just a few steps away, digs a shallow trench, and with a sigh, lays another egg. She croons over it, then leaves the job of burying it to Sareith. When her mate joins her in the spot she picked away from all the eggs, she curls up with him and goes to sleep under his watchful eye.
From the hatching sands,
Frothy Spring Egg
With pale bright green gleaming over its surface, this average-sized egg is the fresh shade of new shoots and limes. At the top of the shell, the green fades up into a frothy white; towards the base, it deepens, studded with sandy golden brown clumps that make it difficult to see where the Sands start and the base ends. Though the combination of colours is odd, there's something pleasing and almost appetizing about the way they come together.
Tavrie smirks when Rilkie refuses the evil 'ma'am' as well, smirking at what she has managed to start. Her grin turns to a frown when Jenivrys' expression changes. "Does it upset you? It must sound odd. I didn't understand at first, but I guess that is just how it goes," she says softly, looking more serious.
From the hatching sands, Sareith spreads a wing over his mate, and then gives the folk still watching in the galleries a repressive eye. Hey. Lady sleeping here! Shush with the chatter.
Blinking in surprise at the sudden finish, as if she might have been daydreaming a but, Cyrra pops right up and scoots before the too many people decide to do so. The lithe girl makes a line for the door, slipping around others quickly and quietly.
From the hatching sands, Olwyn remains tense despite the arm around her for a few more minutes, but as the queen settles down to sleep, apparently no worse the wear despite her ordeal, she relaxes again. "Oh, I don't know, a lucky guess," she returns to teasing the bronzerider. "Let's see, that's...," she goes quiet as she counts the lumps on the sands, "twelve eggs. Not bad for a first clutch in a sort-of Interval."
Jazra sighs dreamily, face open and vulnerable just for a moment, before she heads up for the ledges. The two bronze firelizards flit up and away and disappear, but the green simply droops herself over Jazra's shoulder and goes to sleep. She turns and walks away, humming a soft tune under her breath as she leaves.
Rilkie, the Weyrbred rider, just seems surprised that the idea bothers Jenivrys. "Well-- yes? Not really a big deal for dragons." As she speaks, she catches sight of the gold curling up to sleep. "Oh! Is that the end? Bravo!" She claps, turning to look at Tavrie and Vrys. "What did you think?"
From the hatching sands, Gr'din says lightly, "Their next one will be bigger." A bit of a grin at the goldrider, and then says, "They should be finished putting the feast together. Should we head that way? And I can introduce you to my baby sister."
"It'd be like... like me and Dindin!" Vrys says, aghast. "That's just... Oh!" She shudders as if that will dispel the very idea, then firmly Changes the Subject. "Is... that a big clutch? It's certainly very... brown."
From the hatching sands, "Sounds good," Olwyn agrees and stands. She reluctantly releases Grae's hand, turning to look at the crowd. She gulps a bit, then tries to project her voice to everyone still lingering. "Thank you all for coming out. There should be food for everyone in the Living Cavern now."
Tavrie smiles and nods at Rilkie. "I think it was a lovely first clutch, but then, I don't think there could ever be a clutch that isn't appreciated, though I know the difference in colors can be admired differently," she notes. When Olwyn thanks them, Tavrie offers a wave and a blown kiss. "A lovely clutch, congratulations," she calls back. Tavrie smiles almost sympathetically at Vrys. "Well, it was a pleasure chatting with you. Hopefully, I'll have the pleasure of doing so again...and not before too long! But for now, I had best get home and leave off going to the Living Cavern. I might eat too much and embarrass High Reaches," she says. Then, the goldrider rises and heads off, pausing once to wave to the pair again before slipping out into the bowl with a few others that seem to have High Reaches Knots.
"Dindin?" Rilkie asks, grinning as she figures who this must refer to. "And yes, it was very good for a first clutch," she seconds Tavrie, then waves to the rider as the 'Reachian departs. "Fair skies!" Back to Vrys, she asks conspiratorially, "You call him Dindin? What'd happen if /I/ called him that?"
From the hatching sands, Gr'din gestures for Wyn to preceed him out, though he looks up at the 'dindin' comment. Shells, he owned up to it. He scowls at his baby sister, points at her, and then points at the stairs to the bowl.
Jenivrys scrubs at her cheeks, though it does nothing to alleviate the blushing. She does manage to call a very polite, "Duties to the High Reaches and your queen, ma... Tavrie," before leaning in to the young rider. "I used to call him Dindin when I was little, because I couldn't say 'Graedin'. He'd probably growl a lot, and glare at me. Do you want to try?"
Olwyn moves out at Gr'din's gesture, though she manages to catch part of the conversation about him. She looks over her shoulder and mouths, "Dindin?" at him, clearly trying to refrain from giggling. "Shall we, ladies?" she asks the stragglers, turning her attention back to Rilkie and Jenivrys.
"Oh no! Not right now. I'm going to save that one for a time it might come in handy." Rilkie has a plotting look on her face, but one that speaks of it all being in good fun. She grins at Olwyn as the goldrider approaches. "Congratulations! Wonderful clutch. The eggs are just beautiful!"
"Thanks, Rilkie! I didn't do anything, though, I just stood back and watch those two work," Olwyn states modestly. She gives both women a smile, then follows the grumpy Gr'din out of the galleries and in the direction of the living caverns.
Vrys affects a look of total innocence at her brother, though the effect is quite spoiled by her high color. She snickers and hops to her feet, dropping Olwyn a curtsey. "They're very nice, ma'am." Then to Rilkie, "I'd better get after him. He said he was going to collect me, after. It's after, so I guess that was collecting, huh?"
"I believe so," Rilkie says with a smile. "And I think I'll follow. Never turn down a celebration with good food like this."