Igen Weyr Hatching

Characters Alexa, F'inn, Kate, Oddisa, Tejra, Yaromil
Synopsis Igen's 24th PC Hatching
Out-of-Character Date February 27, 2020

Igen Weyr - Hatching Sands
As if temperatures in the rest of the Weyr weren't uncomfortable enough, the sands are positively blistering. The air shimmers from the onslaught of heat, leaving the area with a hallucinatory feel. Black sands stand currently empty but for the occasional egg-shard or 'print not swept clear. A raised platform of smooth stone provides a lounging-spot for queens or their mates, or a retreat for the lifemates that accompany them from whence they can cool their feet somewhat.


Summer - Month 8 of Turn 2724

It's evening in Igen and just as folks are settling down to eat, the tell-tale hum goes out. Raaneth is not shy about broadcasting that her babies are hatching. Alexa moves gingerly out onto the sands, a plate of something in her hand, that she didn't get a chance to eat it. Still, she's gonna try now, durn-it! And once she's settled at Raaneth's side, she'll turn her gold's foreleg into a seat, and her own preggo-belly into a table and settle. Dinner and a show!

Evening in Igen and the weather is slowly cooling down to a simmer instead of a full boil. That doesn't help the candidates because outside is preferable to the heat of the hatching sands. As candidates begin to arrive on the sands in a quiet line, orderly and all dressed in the bright white robes of candidacy, one by one, they bow to Raaneth and Nymionth, a few giving a polite curtsy. In contrast, others remain upright, aware, and tense, only dipping slightly and warily finding their own place in a semi-circle around the six eggs.

Jewel of the Sahara Egg shivers once in its sandy nest, the surface of the glittering blue shell engaging in the most minute of quivers. Yet, while stillness returns almost immediately, there is a faint, but oddly eerie keening, whispering waves of sound that emanate outward with the assurance that something is most assuredly coming.

The treasure of the sea egg shifts ever so slightly, sending a few grains of sand sliding away from the lustrous shell. Is someone trying top steal this treasure after all? Who would be so bold as the egg shifts again, rocking ever to one side before flopping back into the shall sandy wallow it has been resting in. A bit heavier than expected perhaps?

The shadows cast by the treasure of the sea egg are but its own, and although some tomfoolery may have been suspected the next rocking of the egg is much more like its siblings. The treasure being stolen… no it is the treasure within that seeks to be revealed! Bright cracks suddenly break the beautiful pearlescent sheen upon the shell as the one within seeks to be out!

F'inn really wishes he'd had time to eat. He'd meant to. He'd even started to head to the living cavern, but noooooooo, the eggs are rocking and candidates are coming out.

Glory of the Sandstorm Egg vibrates on the sands, the shell rippling in waves to the beat of a drum only it can hear.

Yaromil is one of those more wary sorts, never quite willing to take his eyes off those shivering eggs and the full bodied humming of the dragons sends a shiver up his spine. "Kinda eerie." Or maybe that's just the wind or the feeling of ALL THOSE EYES UPON THEM. At least he seems to be pretty well acquainted with the hot-sands-sandal-shuffle.

Oddisa marches onto the sands, finding her place next to Katailea and hovering next to her the tiny blonde girl gives Kate a hard to ready look. If one could read minds it might sounds like- Oh me,oh my, oh no, oh crap, shards, shell, sh—. All of these words bounce through her head and across her. Taking a giant breath a hand move for Kate's and then stops, hovering her fingers near her friends. With a raise of chin and eye she presses into all 4'11 of her height. "Let's imagine we're on the ship already, alrigh'?" The moving from Jewel of the sahara gets an eyebrow, "Of course mine wants to hatch firs'… shards."

Alexa might share some of her food, if F'inn dares to come within touching distance. Course, he might end up with a fork in his hand for his troubles. But what is life without a little risk???

Tejra's role in every other hatching she's ever attended has been spectator followed by entertainment. Never have this dancer's feet touched the hot sands when the dragon hum vibrates the surface, causing quivers of movement. The pervasive kinetic energy is contagious. You can't see it (it's electric!). You gotta feel it (it's electric!). Ooh, it's shakin' (it's electric!) Boogie woogie woogie~ For all of the harper's routine composure and the unexceptionable way she finds her place in the line loose semi-circle, even the sack-like white candidate's robe can't hide the way her muscles are bound tight, as though ready to— dance? It is a party, after all, or soon will be. If the eggs are going to shimmy and shake, maybe Tej will, too… with her favorite line dances. (Follow along, if you dare.)

Katailea makes her way into cavern that houses the sands among the rest of the candidates. The young woman finding her place in the semi-circle of white-robes around the rocking eggs. "Good luck," is passed on to those nearby, though the statement holds as much question as anything, though a glance is spared for Oddisa her eyes otherwise remain on the eggs in front of them.

Semi-Precious Stone Egg twitches. Not a lot, but definitely a little. Subtle. Careful. Like maybe it isn't sure it wants to join the party.

Illusion of Stars egg might have moved! Maybe? Possibly? Or was that a trick of the eye? Whatever it was, the pretty dark egg has gone silent and still once again.

Tejra's eyes go to the movement of Semi-Precious Stone Egg. Even for a burgeoning dragon-nerd like the harper seems bent on becoming, it's something else to see the once still eggs showing signs of life. It's astounding. Time is fleeting. Madness takes its toll. But listen closely, not for very much longer. "I've got to keep control," the words are so soft they might be a breath as the dancer lifts to her toes. It's not madness that is a concern here, even if it might be in the latest track; Tej wouldn't be here if her native wildness strayed too far the way of madness. What she has to worry about is control of herself, her body, her expression, to not let the need for movement overtake her careful training, to not let her lips become naught but the kind of grin one gives certain doom. These are adorable baby dragons, after all, not monsters. No need to get dramatic.

Jewel of the Sahara Egg begins to vibrate as that pulsating keening swells to the point that one is nearly tempted to cover their ears. As that sound grows and cracks begin to spread across the surface, odd little pops punctuate the air, the sand around the base of the glittering ovoid to stirred up to a frothy swell.

The tempo has kicked up now as Glory of the Sandstorm Egg rocks back and forth, the beat of the drum louder now as an audible *thump-thump-thump* can be heard from within the shell. A spider web of fissures crackles across the surface, distorting the gold-and-black burnished shell. Soon, bits begin to flake off, falling to the floor like dust, soon hidden within the sand.

Yaromil stares intently at the closest egg, watching as it shivers. The popping noise coming from Jewel of the Sahara egg is unexpected and makes him jump back a little in surprise. "Thought it'd be a lot quicker… like an avian egg." And still he's sweeping his glance across the sands as if focusing on one he might have missed a dragonet emerging.

Oddisa's eyes go from egg to egg, as soon as one wiggles another does, and then another and she's suddenly glad theres only six of them. Hatchings are not new for her, standing is, and here she stands imagining herself back in Fort, back in the trees, back on her runner. The peace granted by her favorite past time washes through her, eyes locked on Jewel of The Sahara egg as the sound erupts from it there's a jump backward. "Is tha' normal?" is posed at Kate as much as towards the world at large. "I hope it's alrigh', that sounded dismal." Despite the heat Oddisa stands entirely still, eyes glued on her egg of choice and body stiff as if she's suddenly become a guard.

Semi-Precious Stone Egg is rocking quite a bit now. Left and right and back and forth, pressing at the shell until — *POP!* — a large chunk goes flying. A little snout peeks out, and it's definitely a dragon, but the color is currently obscured by shadow and sand and goo and egg.

Katailea hasn't had time to notice the heat beneath her feet just yet. That will come to be sure as the heat creeps up through thin-soled sandals. For now though, sea-green eyes flick from one egg to the next as they move. "After," she notes towards Oddisa. Normal? "Dunno, they're all different." Hard to say for sure what is normal isn't it.

Cracks continue to grow upon the treasure of the sea egg as it rocks more violently back and forth. One crack in particular makes its way along the circumference of the egg and you can watch, almost count down to the moment as the crack comes fully around and the shell gives. A heave and a ho and with a final SNAP it breaks nearly in half, if not entirely neatly. Tiny shards from the final kick spray outwards landing with tiny impacts disappearing into the overall hatching ground sands. The larger halves of the shell are pushed determinedly away by a sharp set of talons and bright ruby whirling eyes get their first look at this world beyond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Elegant Treasured Sea Green Hatchling >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The soft flow of water and endless time have worked to smooth the edges of this lithe lady, at least in appearance. Of personality a different time will tell, but for what the eye can see is but an elongated teal green muzzle that is smoothed around curving jaw and overlarge eyes covered by weathered ridges. Of an arcing sinuous teal and sea green neck, studded by blunted turquoise ridges and decorated with tiny pearls along its upper length blending into the deep pool of her chest. Where phthalo greens rise from her belly and tickle like drifting kelp and sea grasses rolling to the invisible flow of watery currents. Smooth strong muscles flex along elongated arms and legs twined with beads of pearl and bits of shell, ending in the only angular part of her. Diamond sharp talons hued of pearl like the egg from which she birthed, tip each wicked finger and toe. A hint of something more dangerous than her smoothed elegant form otherwise implies. Drifting flanks lead to long tapered tail that dapples between the teal and sea greens decorated by tiny bits of shell, inviting one closer to this elegant lady, but beware the hidden danger of her talons. Of wings she sports finely woven sails, a thin sheen of watery green hues that look ever damp as they drift to watery turquoise along the trailing edges. They balance her, allowing her to move with a fluid grace unusual for one so newly born.


Visions of Violet is ready to go! Just a little now, to get in the flow. A lean to the left, a rock to the right, and maybe, just maybe, we'll hatch here tonight!

Yaromil lets out a hiss of breath as the first dragon emerges. Positively tiny like most newborn things are, but those pearl-like talons are eyed and he cautiously steps a few steps back. Breathing room is probably a desired thing if the last few nights in the barracks rumors of hatchings gone wrong may have been flying so it's better safe than sorry.

Tejra, in the midst of the extended action that is inherent to every hatching, is in her element: chaos! Here pale gaze flits from the vibration of Glory of the Sandstorm Egg to the movement of Elegant Treasured Sea Green Hatchling pushes away the shards of her shell with such determination and a grin escapes. Her torso shifts, hips giving a roll, lift and drop, almost as though she's giving that hatchling encouragement to move more, act more, dance if it pleases her. Semi-Precious Stone Egg gets a share of that exhilarated grin, too, though as a snout pops out. Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga. I know you can't control yourself any longer. SHAKE, BABY, SHAKE~

Elegant Treasured Sea Green Hatchling creels, wings spreading for initial balance as she stands upon newborn legs. Shifting sand underfoot is not particularly helpful either. Whoever thought hatching on /sand/ was a good idea? It's a thought for investigation another time however as ruby whirling eyes pick up speed with a different sort of urgency. Now that she has freed herself of the shell, she finds the world so MUCH bigger and she so MUCH smaller and alone. So alone it is nearly unbearable and head swings in search of something, something she hasn't quite figured out yet but gaze catches upon some movement. Blurry white shapes in the not to distance abruptly focused upon, body still and posed a moment before slowly turning to reorient heself towards those suddenly interesting figures.

The ominous *thump-thump-thump* of Glory of the Sandstorm Egg kicks up another notch. A resounding *CRACK* and a wing breaks free. Another *BOOM* and a hind-leg kicks out. A final push, and the burnished shell is obliterated, a battle-cry sounding from the Hatchling now standing on the sands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Fierce Little Fighter Green Tigerth and Leah >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She may be green, but there's nothing dainty about this lady. Stocky and blocky, she struts her stuff down the sands, confident even fresh from the shell. Sassy grass-bright green colors her hide, spilling over headknobs and ridges, across her back and over too-large wings, down through the top of her tail. Beneath is the deep-dark green of the forest, shadowing chin and throat and belly and legs. She moves without hesitation, unconcerned when she stumbles and falls, determined to charge ahead despite the challenges. After all, the reward is worth it when she comes head-to-stomach with her chosen. "Tigerth? Of course! They won't be able to stop us!" says the brawny Smith-girl, Leah.


Oddisa gasps as the pretty green dragon emerges from Treasure of the Sea Egg. "Look at the eyes on 'er." Is commented towards the world in general, the magic of hatching dragons stealing her breath for a soft moment. Head up, shoulders back, slight bend in the knee that is hidden under white robes. As the pain of the sand seeps in she lifts up on her toes and back down, unwilling to admit defeat. The sands are fine, comfortable, she's not hot, this is fine. At least in facial expression she looks stoic, "Another green.. that's two." As if those near her can't count.

Katailea hasn't looked towards the stands like some do. Calm, that's what she's trying for, or rather as much as anyone can presenting themselves for the hatchlings, with everything going on right there. With the first dragon shelled its there that her eyes go like surly so may others to the Elegant Treasured Sea Green Hatchling. "Yeah," she agrees, the idle comment towards the younger girl beside her, but then there's another and a quick impression which catches her attention if only for a moment.

Jewel of the Sahara Egg erupts with a shocking boom that is very nearly metallic in tone and tenor. And, for a moment, even the chance of a glimpse of what stands in its place is obscured by flying bits of shell and the cloud of sand filling the air. As the sand settles though, it reveals the carefully posed figure of the one who had dwelled within. Because, you know sweetie, it is all about the entrance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Sands of Time Gold Hatchling >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While the majority of this compact beauty's form is characterized by an equal mixture of pale rose gold and flaxen hues, deeper tones of chestnut blossom along the sinuous length of her tail, all four legs and the entirety of her head. In the presence of moonlight, however, a subtle, silvery dappling, reminiscent of her dame, becomes visible along the elegant sweep of neck and shoulder. Gracefully long head knobs, a shade darker than the chestnut of this modestly built dragon's face, are lightly speckled with shadows that seem to shimmer and move in the sunlight. It is in the set of her head, almost always held slightly canted— as if she knows something that no one else does— and the presence of a bold sweep of kohl beneath the left eye that hints of the bold personality contained within. She is daring and witty, personified, and it shows both in her fanciful coloring and the unmistakable way in which she carries herself even newly out of the shell. There is humor there, dancing in whirling eyes, and an eager readiness to boldly face whatever the wide world has to offer. At the same time, one cannot help but get the sense that, even newly hatched, this young queen has her own opinions and could potentially be quite stubborn. While not the largest of her kind by any stretch, there is power in the broad, compact form. And what she might lack in overall size is more than made up for in the presence of massive cloak-like wings— a gift, no doubt, from her sire. The pale rose gold of those wings billows out from deepest burnished gold spars, the very tips of each touched with a flash of shadowy kohl.


Another *POP!* and a bit more of Semi-Precious Stone Egg goes breaking away. This time, it's the tail that follows through, uncurling out onto the sand. But with snout at one end and tail at the other, now it's got some real leverage to work with. A moment of stillness, a calculating strike, and suddenly the egg is gone in an explosion of shell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Restless Adventurer Green Peridoth and Sage >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Head tossed and eyes whirling bright, this little green is confident from the moment she's split her shell. Forest-green cloaks her in shadows, from simple-head to lean neck, only to dilute into raindrop-patterns across her broad wings. Lean and wiry, she may not be the prettiest of the group, but she's possessed of a confidence that has her setting forth with head held high and a spring in her step. The world has been waiting for one such as she! Or maybe it is she that has been waiting for the world! There is much to see, and without further ado, she collides with a young trader-lass named Sage. "An adventure? With you? Of course, Peridoth! I would go anywhere with you!"


Yaromil eyes widen as suddenly its dragons, dragons, everywhere! Tigerth's charge might be missed, but he gives a small nod as he spots the first pair wander off. "Someone bet on all ladies?" If they did, they're probably going to make a pretty stack of marks at the end of the night at this rate.

Tejra is surrendering to the inconstant rhythms of the movement on the sands. Pale eyes go wide, wider as she gets to see close hand the impression of Tigerth to Leah. Her eyes betray wonder, panic, both? It's a different perspective, to be sure. Her head turns enough to take in the white-clad forms of Yaromil, Oddisa and Katailea, a gulp slipping silently by as she jerks her head back to Visions of Violet Egg and Glory of the Sandstorm Egg. She might as well be silently chanting, adding her counterpoint of sandaled foot lifting and falling on the hot sands as she shifts. Wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble. (yeahhh~~) Get in there!! Yeah, yeah! And then the latter hatches. Briefly, the harper is bereft of movement, words, and she's coughing in the next moment, looking away to the green still ranging the sands.

It's definitely time now, just look at it go. Visions of Violet has popped out a toe! Is that a brown, or maybe a blue? It's sure hard to tell, with all that egg goo.

Elegant Treasured Sea Green Hatchling moves with a surprisingly fluid grace across the dry hatching ground sands. Although the egg dampness quickly dries, the hues of her hide keep her looking slightly wet though she does not actually drip upon the dark sands. The only trace of her path are the deep gouges her pearly talons leave, a hint of danger to an otherwise welcoming figure. She makes her way quickly enough, avoiding the determined march of her forest green sister who manages to beat her to the line of white clad ones. She isn't far behind however, reaching part of the line and looking up into the eyes of a lad. He may be hungry for a partner but she barely blinks. Despite her loneliness, that ache inside which must be filled, it must also be filled right. A twisting knife pain her voice reaches out in a discordant melody as she slips down the line of candidates until pausing before a pair of females. Whether with interest or to catch her breath a moment remains to be seen.

Sands of Time Gold Hatchling stands among the ruins of what was once her egg. While some might spare a moment to ponder the events that brought them here — perhaps even sniffing those bits of shell that litter the sand beneath her — she instead spares not a moment of thought. That was then. This is now. And there is no going back. There is only going forward. And with head held high, she saunters forward with a swinging stride, straight to the line of candidates awaiting her.

Katailea spares a glance towards those candidates remaining nearest. "Maybe should have," she comments in reply to Yaromil. Four for four so far, it could have been a good bet? "Still time for your blue though," she adds for Oddisa, her own feet shifting against the hot sands as she gaze shifts from one movement tot the next.

Oddisa watches Leah impress and waves a hand in congratulations, as her favorite egg hatches a gold there's a soft exhalation. "No blue… When we get on the ship, yu think they'll have wine? I'm not a drinker but shells." Her mouth is fully ready for a trip at sea even if the rest of her is firmly planted like a tree, refusing motion beyond tiny hand movements while she speaks. "We've got, three greens, an' a gold.. no blues." The problem with prophecizing your own life the way Odi has, is that you could be wrong. As the sound erupts from the green there's a frown from the tiny beastcrafter, "That sounds.. bad. I hope she's alrigh'… Gold seems determined enough." Idle conversation needs to be had, she's already planning her next ten rides on Cleo at Fort.

Confidence building, Illusion of Stars egg tries another little wiggle. Success! A smattering of cracks now crisscrosses its pretty shell, faint white lines growing as the brilliant rainbow-hues go dim. It won't be long now.

Tejra's pale gaze narrows as Sands of Time Gold Hatchling moves. It's probably unnecessary at this distance to slide to the left, slide to the right, criss-cross, criss-cross, cha cha real smooth as the dancer repositions her oh-so-weird self just a little closer to LUCKY YAROMIL, an farther from that gold. He wanted the snake on the sands next to him right? "Didn't bet on that one." She calls loudly enough to answer the question that wasn't for her. (Doesn't she always?)

Sands of Time Gold Hatchling has finally made it to the first of those white-robed tributes. Each one is weighed in turn, a tip of the head and a curious gaze given, before she inevitably sighs and continues on. Nope. Nope. Nope. They're all just fine really. Perfectly acceptable, for someone *else*. But she's not looking for fine. She's looking for… Oh! Maybe that one! With a little grunt of effort she takes off at a faster clip, closing the distance between herself and Tejra. Hopefully she's not scared of dragons, because this little gold is about to get up close and personal with her, nose inches from her face as she's given a serious looking-over. One second. Two… But no. With a snort and a sigh, Sands of Time Gold Hatchling turns and continues on her way, leaving the redheaded Harper behind without another thought.

Yaromil doesn't scowl at the harper for once as she appears. "You'd be a fool to bet on anything with a Hatching anyways." Yaro likes his marks right where he can expect them to be the next morning, thank you very much. His eyes widen even more as the little gold appears to be going for Tejra and sniffing but… is that a breath of relief as she wanders off?

Another good push, just a press of the wings, and Visions of Violet will burst at the seams. It's giving its all, the shell falling en mass, until onto the sands spills a green little lass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Unending Optimism Green Pyseth and Amee >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Diluted greens grace this lady's hide, pale and liquid when watercolors collide. A lithe little frame and a delicate head, she moves from the shell with her eyes whirling red. A piteous creel, a harrowing cry, because moving is hard even though she must try. She sets off in search of the one she must find, seeking and feeling for just that one mind. A trip of her wing and she falls to a knee, but when she looks up, Oh! There is Amee! "My Pyseth! My love!" cries the girl with brown hair, while the weyrlingmasters come to escort them from there.


Tejra should be the best dodger on the sands. With her honed reflexes and ready muscles, she should already be gone by the time that Sands of Time Gold Hatchling makes it to her, especially with her already committed attempt to evade! But she's rooted to the spot. It's a thriller, thriller night. You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight. That might be imagination running a bit wild, as Tej is, in fact, facing down a gold, goo-covered dragonet and not something worse, and yet the sudden zeal with which her heart is beating, the held breath of expectation… it might well be as riveting, and there are all those warnings about things hatchlings can do unknowingly do, perhaps it's not far off? When the dragon moves on, there's a moment of motionlessness before Tej stumbles a pair of steps back, face flushing and expression distinctly relieved. She might love dragons (and oh, but she does), but who WANTS the knot that comes with that color?? Not Tej.

Is that a look of relief on Alexa's face when the gold passes up on Tejra? <.< Maybe. But she'll cover it up by turning toward F'inn and wondering, "Do you think the kitchens would smother a pickle in chocolate for me? I don't know, it just sounds really good…"

Oddisa keeps an eye on all the dragonets, raising a hand and clucking her tongue between her teeth. Possibly to see if any of them will pick up the trot. No results, oh well, her dragon would surely know to do that. Right? Eggs remain, and as the next egg hatches another green there's a glance towards the galleries. Look where you're going, because that's where you'll end up. Runnercraft is full of fun sayings, and the moment she looks back Oddisa is content to go that direction. Backward. "Congratulations Amee, she's cute. Wine, definitely wine. I want bacon too." FUlly preparing her post hatching ship meal, ready to move on to her next adventure because obviously there's no hope for this group is there's no blue. As the gold passes by people Oddisa stares curiously, tucking hands behind her back because no one needs to lose a finger to a dragon

Katailea sends a smirk towards Oddisa for her question of wine. That just can't be passed up. "Absolutely," there will plenty if she has anything to say about it. They just have to make it through this first. Green eyes turn from one candidate to the next finding Tejra as the golden hatchling draws so close to the red-head, catching her breath a moment only to find it released as the hatching turns to continue her search. It might not have been her that was being inspected, but sometimes it doesn't seem to matter whether the anticipation is for you or someone else. "Definitely."

Elegant Treasured Sea Green Hatchling cries discordant again. Hello, hatchling standing right in front of you ladies! She rears back, pearly talons flashing as she stands briefly now before Oddisa and Katailea. Weren't they warned to pay attention or anything? Such a pose is still a bit much for her newborn muscles, but she'll bet they are paying attention now as weary haunches settle her back down to dark sands. Muzzle jerks upwards then, desperate and needing as energy begins to fade. Eyes finally catch and lock with one of the ladies whose own eyes reflect the hues of the hatchlings hide. Her perfect, her chosen, her one! Made for each other clearly, the discordant melody of her cries changes into a notably joyous song as she leans forward, wings reaching out as if to ensnare her chosen in their grasp.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Elegant Treasured Sea Green Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Sands of Time Gold Hatching has had quite enough of this game. Sashaying her way among the throng, she gives a hearty sigh before… wait. What was that?! With a toss of her head and a flare of her wings, she moves with purpose-renewed, faceted eyes whirling all the faster as she closes the distance. Yes! This is the one. This is who she was looking for! With a triumphant cry, she plants herself down in front of a tiny blonde that smells of hay, neck extended until they are brow to brow and touching at last.

With a triumphant cry it seems that the Sands of Time Gold Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Tejra, of all people, can relate to having trouble with new movements. She teaches movement, after all, and to get there she had to learn a laundry list of new and unusual manipulations to muscle and ligament that are more complex than one foot in front of the other. Fairly, she had that one down long before being asked to do the other, so since the dragon that proves to be green Pysethis new at all of this, that will doubtless be forgiven. The teacher in her can't seem to help the nearly voiceless words once the gold is done with her, "Watch me, watch me," as though the hatchling might just, the redheads body flowing into a few steps that see her rocking forward from her place in the semi-circle and back - nothing complicated. If anyone looks at her funny for this, she can give them her best stanky leg eye. Dancers will dance, just try'n stop 'em!

The dazzling display of colors that glitters on Illusion of Stars Egg is at its end. With a final flare and a forceful rock, the shell shatters into a million pieces, delivering it's dainty little darling out onto the Sands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Gentle Spirit Green Laloth and Libby >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A pretty little thing even straight from the shell. This green is fine boned and delicately made, all lean lines and perfect proportions. Even awkward as she may be, having just come into the world, there's a refinement that speaks of nobility despite her hide being green. Emerald-hues glitter along her egg-wet hide, jewel-toned wings fanned out in effort to dry them, while her whip-like tail slides softly through the sand. She wastes no time searching for her chosen, making a bee-line straight for the candidates. A hold-bred girl named Libby, with dark skin and perfect posture gasps, stepping forward to meet the green. With tears in her eyes, she kneels to sigh, "Laloth!" as she throws her arms around her new dragon's neck.


Yaromil stares not at the eggs for once. He's definitely giving a funny look to Tejra. "Are you trying to dance a dragon to you or away from you?" Is that even a thing?

Tejra eyes Yaromil with that flat look that implies he's the idiot here. As if to make a silen point, she shimmies her shoulders and hips. Down, down, do your dance, do your dance~ She refrains from more, because SHE'S A LADY, THAT'S WHY, Yaromil. Her eyes are drawn by the movement of the Gentle Spirit Green, brow furrowing as Libby Impresses.

Katailea's green eyes flick quickly back towards Elegant Treasured Sea Green Hatchling as she presents herself in front of her and Oddisa. It's not so much that she wasn't paying attention, just not to the right place at the right time apparently. A step back as the hatching rears back, they were warned about these kinds of things. Sands of Time Gold Hatching all but beside the tiny green goes unnoticed on all but the most peripheral level. Something more certainly has her attention now when she take that step forward instead, meeting the green with a soft smile. "And forever," she agrees with her when she's finally found her breath again.

Oddisa takes a step back, as there's not one but TWO hatchlings eyeing up her and Katailea. The noise made by Elegant Treasured sea green hatchling has one hand going to her ear, "Shards." In a matter of moments her partner is stolen, the chestnut colored gold moves into her view and then REALLY into her view as they are eye to eye. Dizziness overcomes for a second, reaching out to grasp onto the gold infront of her without thought, mind far away and lost in time. A beat, two, no words only the newborn queen and her rider locked together. "You've got to be shardin' kiddin' me. You're not.. You're serious." Reaching up again to run a finger over the gold hide Oddisa begins to giggle. Not lady like, or child like, even if she appears to be a child, loud and obnoxious, a bit mad. "Oriapeth, it's a pleasure to meet you, I bet we've got good here somewhere." Turning to look for weyrlingstaff, one hand on her new charges shoulder. "Shards.. what even. I'd. I'm gonna wake up any moment now, i swear." Shaking her head hard in disbelief, snorting in laughter. Any moment now.

With the sands suddenly free of eggs, and the last pairs wandering to the barracks, Alexa seems to realize it's time to do something. Ahem. With her plate still in hand, she hops down from Raaneth's leg to address those candidates still remaining. This is probably one of the least-fun parts of the job, and there's an appropriate sympathy reflected in those green eyes of hers. "While your lifemate might not have been here today, please know that it doesn't mean the end of anything. Take some time to process, and know that you are welcome to remain at Igen as long as you'd like."

Tejra's pale eyes go to Alexa, expression slack, numbness already doing it best to overtake the wealth of feeling that this outcome has left the redhead to contend with. It's too much in the moment to hold, to hold back from her face as it grows stormy, to hold back from the tell-tales of her body as shoulder slump and lips quiver. But that's too much to share with the world at large so it's time (and you knew it was coming, right?) to do the Chicken Dance and fly this coop on fleet feet.

Now, with Alexa distracted with dragons and weyrlings? THAT is when F'inn goes for her food. Scooping up the bowl, he carries it back with him to lean against Nymionth and do his level best to get rid of the evidence as quickly as possible. Whut fud??? >.>

Yaromil doesn't really catch that it's all over until after Alexa's giving that little speech. There's not a word, only a polite nod to sire and dam if they remain on the Sands and off he flees as well. Somewhere there might be a bottle of wine calling his name tonight.

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