Talk of Eggs, AC, and Excitement

Characters Eryzan Sabrael Ilyse Kytaer Janja
Synopsis As the hatching grows closer, the candidates are all about talking about it.
Out-of-Character Date December 27, 2014

Lake Shore
It is sometimes hard to tell where the bowl ends and the lake shore begins. Fine grains of gold, tan and orange hued sand layer much as the bowl walls in the distance beyond. The sand only gives way to thin patches of grass where the tall fence of the feeding grounds intersects the lake to the south and the smooth curve of the bowl wall rises on the opposite shore. At that intersection one can make out a small building and colorful fabrics where the Weyr's residents go to relax. The shallow lake waters shimmer invitingly, day and night, lapping at the fine grain sands. Engineered pipes are hidden beneath the bowl landscape and feed the lake as well as the grasses of the feeding grounds to keep the water levels from dropping past a certain point which is marked by a waist high obelisk

Free time has brought an entrepreneurial soul out to the side of the lake. Sabrael picks her way along the side of the water, bending down to brush at pieces of sad as they catch her eye. Once in a while she gathers up some fine grands and places them into a bowl. A quiet whistle accompanies her steps, as she clearly doesn't pay attention to anything around her but gathering those grains of sand.

Leaning against a rocky spot, Eryzan also seems to enjoy some free time. It must be that because there's no way he can have chores done that early in the day. Not far from the waters, he's working on a piece of wood, using a short knife. The proximity of the sea or a lake has always been inspiring to him but as Sabrael approaches, another kind of sound catches his attention. "A nice tune you're whistling here, Sab." he calls the younger candidate, offering his usual smile.

Sabrael jumps at the unexpected voice, the bowl in front of her getting clutched to her chest. Eyes sweep around and settle on Eryzan. "Oh, oh, hey Eryzan." She smiles and comes closer stopping just short to look down at the sand just under her foot. She crouches down and sweeps it up into her hand, allowing it to fall again. "How are you?"

Eryzan eyes Sabrael with a raised brow, still smiling. "I'm fine. How about you?" he asks right back, bringing the small piece of wood to his lips to try a short blow. He frowns, obviously not pleased with the escaping sound. "Collecting sand?" comes his other question as he nods his chin at her bowl.

"Pretty wonderful," Sabrael looks up from where she is bent down, tossing her head to shoo away hair that has fallen to cover her face. Slowly, oh so slowly, over the past sevens she has stepped out of herself a little bit and is actually speaking so that she can be heard more often than not. "The weyrleader asked me to paint some things but.. I can't find quite the right paint. What… are you making?"

Eryzan nearly squints as he focuses on the wood thing, giving it a final cut with his knife. He blows in it but more to dust it off rather than actually try it. Then, his attention is fully on Sabrael again. Of course he crossed her path at many occasion since he got here but never realized…. "It's nice to see you in such a cheerful mood, Sab. And, if I may say, you have a nice voice. But then, I never heard it before." He grins, winking. "I may still have some stuff I brought from the Hall when I was…." he coughs here. "…forced to take drawing classes." It's obvious that music has been all his life. "And that." he waves what seems to be a small flute. "It's just…" He blows in it, playing a single yet clear musical note. "…nothing."

"Oh, um, thank you." Sabrael blushes at the compliment, but there's a more than real smile on her lips as she looks up. "I… don't suppose… I mean, if you don't mind? Do you… know any harpers I might talk to about… art? I was thinking, maybe, if I don't impress it would be nice to try something like that?" She stumbles her way through the request as she stands up and finishes walking closer. A hand is held out if Kytaer wants to show her the flute more closely.

You say "Oh, um, thank you." Sabrael blushes at the compliment, but there's a more than real smile on her lips as she looks up. "I… don't suppose… I mean, if you don't mind? Do you… know any harpers I might talk to about… art? I was thinking, maybe, if I don't impress it would be nice to try something like that?" She stumbles her way through the request as she stands up and finishes walking closer. A hand is held out if Eryzan wants to show her the flute more closely."

Art is technically not Kytaer's forte; it depends on who you ask as to whether his watchmaking would count as art. This is, however, right about when he … sort of … butts in on the conversation. He's got his shirt hanging open, his face and chest dappled with fresh new freckles, and another box full of metal pieces in his arms. The beach is apparently a good new workplace, though he must have a better reason for being there. It takes him a second before he registers that he knows the people he's walking by, and he looks up from looking at the ground-and-box and waves.

"Mmmm…Nen would be ideal for that." Zan replies, handing the flute over to her as he finally stands up, dusting his shorts. "I mean Nenowyn. She used to teach me back at the Hall. And I can assure you she's the most patient person I've ever met." he grins, quickly adding. "I'm not saying she'll have to be patient with you tho. It's important to think about the future, Sab, but don't stop hoping. Those eggs are still on the sands." Katy's wave is caught at one corner of his eye and he slightly turns to wave back. "Hey Kytaer. Progressing with that dangerous mission of yours?" Quite dangerous indeed to work close to a touchy gold dragon.

"Do you think… maybe you could introduce us? After, of course, I mean, yeah, eggs." Sabrael trips over herself to ask but also totally agree with him at the same time. She turns the flute over in her hands, attempting to fit her hands over the holes. She's not looking and stumbles over the edges of Kytaer's pile of work-in-progress. "Oh! sorry!"

"Hey, easy -" Kytaer was about to answer Eryzan, but he's too busy holding out a hand to possibly catch and steady Sabrael. She ends up not needing it, and nothing's damaged, but the effort was there. "It's fine." Nothing was actually damaged, so much as that that box is at times inconvenient and in people's ways. "And I am doing my best," he adds with a half-laugh attached to the end of his grumble, "to avoid Feyruth. It'll be done in a day or two at most. Thanks for asking."

Eryzan also attempts to catch Sab but he's way slower than Kytaer. "I'd be glad to do so, Sab. You can count on me. And if I can't because of…you know." See, he didn't give up hoping. "…you know, be sure I will write you a note to give her." To Kytaer he raises both hands, chuckling. "Oh it was not an offer to help don't misunderstand me." he begins, teasingly. "It was just a high praise. Maybe you could teach us your tricks one day?"

All the hands! Sabrael tucks the flute close to her chest to keep from dropping it as she steps away from both boys. "Thanks Zan." REal emotion is there in her quiet response. Realizing she is holding that flute she offers it back to him, eying the AC unit. One toe reaches out and nudges a piece of it. "It's… in lots of pieces." Sabrael actually hasn't seen Kytaer with something that actually works.

"It'll all be in one piece in about - five minutes," says Kytaer, giving the pile of stuff another glance. This is actually a fan, and he's going to make it into a fully functional fan right on front of them. "I'm supposed to be meeting my sister here, it's hers. And don't worry, I won't try to haul anyone else into the human-eating gold's weyr. You know, I heard someone else saying she eats people, like, seriously," and that was a lot of information-volunteering for Kytaer, so he'll go back to piecing his fan into being an actual fan. The more he attaches bits and goes at bolts with his wrench, the more it actually looks like something that's meant to sit on a desk.

Eryzan grabs the flute back, giving Sabrael a quick nod and a smile. But then his eyes are on the techcrafter again. "Come on Kytaer, it's a bit mean to try to scare the hell out of Sab like that. It must be a rumor. And you know how rumors are. 99% false most of the time." He then casts a quick reassuring glance at Sabrael. "Don't worry he's just kidding….right?" As always, Zan does;t seem to take things seriously but then, a hint of curiosity edges his voice.

Sabrael's expression is all innocence. Except she is missing that characteristic flush that overcomes her so often. "Kytaer, is that piece suppose to be all bent wonky like that?" She reaches out a toe to kick gently (no harm done!) at one of the pieces.

Not wanting to disturb Kytaer's concentration more, Zan takes a single step away. Away from his box of pieces but closer to Sabrael. "At this rate he'll never be done, Sab. Be nice?" The amused snort that follows so usual with the Harper. "Anyway. I will go fetch what paint material I have here. Will see you later." And here he slowly walks away, testing his flute, the sound mixing in the wind. He does pass near a familiar silhouette and wave. "Hey Lyse…"

Sabrael's smile for Kytaer is half apologietic. But he totally started it with the dragons eating people thing again. "I hope you finish it soon." The bowl she's holding is full of sand and she swirls it with a finger before stepping away from him. Not after Eryzan though. She's looking up at the person that he greets on his way out and a huge smile spreads on her face. "Hey Ilyse!" The tiny teen moves towards her friend, looking upwards.

"Hey Sab." Ilyse says as she reaches down for a hug. "How're you? Looking as lovely as ever." She tells her friend. "It makes me /so/ happy to see you out and talking with others." That's genuine.

Sabrael doesn't release Ilyse from that hug when she pulls away, but instead links her arm though Ilyse's. "Eryzan's been really nice… and you know, Kytaer, when he's working…" it's like he's not even paying attention to her anyway. "Hey, uh, gold dragons really don't eat people… right? I um, I mean I know they don't but… no, they don't." She flushes red and kicks at a rock in her path.

"No, they really don't eat people. No dragons eat people. We genetically engineered them not to….waaaaaaaay back when." She makes a huge motion with her free arm, her other holding onto Sab's. "Some can be really scary because they're so huge, but the only time a dragon will even hurt a human is during hatchings, and that's because they're babies who are confused and hungry and can't walk right. They're so funny looking." She laughs softly and then lets out a small sigh. "What're you doing today?"

"I knowthat… I really do. Just, you know… when they," Sabrael jerks a head back at where Kytaer builds on his work. "start joking I… wonder. I guess I'm just nervous… but… yeah." She squeezes Ilyse's arm once. "Are you nervous?"

"Not right now, no. I will be when they start humming." Ilyse moves to wrap her arm around Sabrael's shoulders and pulls her in close to her side. "Don't worry about jokes. It's never happened and never will." She moves down to one knee to look in Sabrael's eyes. "And if I think anything bad will happen to you, I'll just dive in front of you to save ya." She winks at her.

There's some metal tapping and clicking in the background - there has been for a while, but it's now increased - and then Kytaer actually tunes back into the conversation again. Or, rather, Kytaer tunes back into reality again, with a, "There we go!" and anyone who glances in his direction will now see … a completed table fan, only minus a proper electrical cord. So it isn't entirely operational yet, but where would he plug it in on the beach to show it off anyway?

"Thanks Ilyse." For all it probably would be better for Sabrael not to fade so much behind Ilyse, the younger girl is grateful for the complete and total support. When Kytaer calls out Sabrael pauses, twisting to look back at Kytaer without letting go of Ilyse. "It looks a little like mine." The one she stole from him and has been too embarassed to give back.

"You're welcome, Sab." Ilyse says, giving her a hug before she stands back up and looks towards Kytaer and his fan. "Looks almost complete." She says in a polite, warm tone. "Just missing a plug, right?" She asks. "I certainly couldn't fix any of that."

For the observation, Ilyse gets a brief flash of winning, satisifed grin from Kytaer (who has also now registered that she's actually there more properly.) "That's right. I built this one from scratch, actually, wasn't a repair - that little blade piece you've got?" He looks over at Sabrael, curious. "That's like one of these only five times smaller, yeah, though that was meant to be a pull propeller for a ventilation system and not a stand-alone fan, but if you'd like it to work I could put a back on it with a battery." And then it wouldn't be a center button with three blades on it that occasionally wafted in the wind. But maybe she likes it like that.

Sabrael blinks as Kytaer gets slightly technical. "Oh um… Sure?" He's offering to make her a battery powered fan, right? With the little one she took from him. She glances up at Ilyse, did she get that right?

"He is." Ilyse is standing with Sabrael, who has her arms wrapped around Ilyse's left arm. They're talking with Kytaer, who has just put together a fan, or almost. "But isn't that a pull fan then?" She asks, looking down to Sab. "Where it pulls the air instead of pushing it?"

Kytaer's going to stay technical, too, because he is still being asked technical things. Which means he still looks very pleased with the turn of the conversation. "Well, it was, uh, supposed to be part of a pull propeller, but it never actually got anything pull-y attached to it. It's just the blades and the piece that holds them together, so it could get set up to do either, right now. It's possible to make that piece into a little hand fan with a solar battery - no lack of charging power here."

Sabrael reaches upwards and runs a hand through her curly hair. "So… it, uh, cools?" A look between the two of them.

Riding like a queen, or rather queen's rider, Janja comes down to the lake perched on Feyruth's back. The gold, for whatever reason, has chosen to hump her way across the bowl floor to the lake rather than make the hop-n-glide most dragons would. Janja waves cheerily to the candidates as the pair lumber by into the water. Once Feyruth is submerged enough for safety, Jan slides down her side into the water and makes for shore. Dripping wet, she walks over to where there's some sort of lesson going on. "Well, hello there, candidates. Did you miss me?" As if she'd been gone for weeks rather, instead of just the night. "What have you got there?"

"You should make it into a hand fan for Sab." Ilyse turns as she hears a dragon romping around in just enough time to see Janja and Feyruth come stromping along. "Weyrwoman!" She salutes. "Hiya Feyruth. And of course we missed you, ma'am. Anythime you're not around we miss you." She looks to Sab. "Have you ever met Feyruth? I've met her once. She brought me here. "Sabrael, this is Feyruth, Feyruth, Sabrael." She slides her arm our of Sab's embrace and pushes her a bit on her lower back. "Go say hi." She whispers

"It moves air around, which should have a cooling effect, anyway," Tae explains, because a hand fan doesn't actually have coolant, unlike an air conditioner … He allows himself to be redirected again when Janja arrives, pausing long enough to salute. "Got a lot of the work done while you weren't about, ma'am," he supplies helpfully; yes, that means he was in her weyr when she wasn't, and what of it? He was let in! Feyruth gets a respectful head-bow (he's sitting down), just in case.

Well, the candidates can greet pretty much all they want, but the queen seems to just be completely ignoring them. Meanwhile, her rider is beaming to hear both that she was missed (of course she was missed!) and that her weyr will soon be the coolest and most stylish at Igen. But the joyful smile quickly drops to a look of hesitant concern as Ilyse casually starts calling out to her lifemate. She opens her mouth, one hand lifting in a half-hearted stop motion. "Er..oh.." Whatever would come next as she bites down on her lower lip, just as Feyruth gives a deep rumble. "Oh dear."

"Ilyysseee…" Sabrael totally hisses at Ilyse when her friend bodily shoves her forward towards the dragon. Every ounce of her go-and-get-ems have been eaten and she has to forcibly stop herself from stepping back. "Um, Ma'am." That's hello in Sabrael world. She's even preparing herself to say something to the gold when… oh. Nope. Not happening. Instead, a mutter from the side of her mouth, "Lyse, I don't thinks she's happy."

Ilyse looks towards Feyruth. "SOrry, I didn't know any better." Ilyse stands in front of Sabrael to protect the smaller girl, "I'm fine. She can be upset and I'll take the punishment for not being polite enough. She drops into a curtsey. "I'm sorry about that Weyrwoman." She says. "Truly."

"Does she not … like being talked to?" Kytaer tilts his head curiously; he's tiling it far enough that his hair is trailing on his shoulder. "I could, uh. Leave." That fear has not abated despite having to spend time on her ledge, though to Feyruth's credit, Tae has always been afraid of golds.

"Oh, no no. It's not that…exactly." Janja shakes her head firmly, near to violently, in accompaniment. "It's just that she's not a very social dragon. She's, er, very aware of what she's due." She drops her voice into a not so very whisper. "She's always after me about being a better leader." The weaver-rider shrugs in a slightly confused fashion. "I'm wonderful, no?" Waving that random aside away, Janja returns to her prior thoughts. "It's just. She's not going to want to be approached without permission or, er, just..shouted at like…Like you're old friends."

"We think you're a great leader. I mean… I've not been here that long, but you seem to be doing a good job. The Weyr's not falling down around our heads or anything." She offers, before stepping to the side and looking back to Sab. "Sorry about that Sabby."

"How, um, can we make it right?" Sabrael doesn't add that she really doesn't want to get eaten by the gold. Now that she's seen the touchy dragon, she has swung back to the belief that perhaps dragons WOULD eat someone. If they ticked them off again. "I mean… I wouldn't… want her to be upset." Sabrael does however, move slightly sideways. Behind Kytaer. Eat him first.

Is hiding behind someone who's sitting down too helpful? Part of Sabrael can surely be seen over a seated Kytaer, right? He's only a foot taller than she is! He also just grunts, rather than actually contribute to the conversation; he's started fiddling with something else from one of the pockets on his amazing belt, rather than actually make eye contact with people.

Whatever. Kytaer's totally a bigger meal.

The grin the girls receive is half-hearted, but Feyruth has motored her way farther from shore and returned to ignoring the pesky humans. Janja checks her lifemate and with a soft, relaxing sigh sinks onto the sand next to Kytaer. She leans forward to get a closer look at what the boy is doing, possibly even enough to drip on him. "So." she says leaning back to take in everyone again. "I heard that the eggs are close to ready. Who's excited?"

"Nervous. Don't know …" Ilyse sighs as she looks towards Janja. "You know how I feel, or what I mean, Weyrwoman." She admits, flushing as she moves to sit down as well. She's not going to be the only goofball standing. "Sit with me, Sab?" She asks.

Kytaer, the nice big meal - though possibly one of the smaller ones as far as the males of the class are concerned - doesn't complain about being dripped on, though he's also not doing anything discernable; attaching and detaching metal brackets, making geometric shapes. "Anticipatory," is his suggested word. Anticipatory what? Who knows. Just anticipatory.

But with them all sitting, Sabrael is the tallest person here! She can't really say no to Ilyse's invitation without making a scene though, so she does sit, careful to make sure at least one other human being is between her and the water. Just in case.

Janja nods along to the various subsets of excited the candidates are showing. "I remember being excited too. I was just certain Feyruth would come to me, I wasn't afraid or anything." She gives a slightly goofy smile, looking into the distance as she does. "Of course, I didn't know what her name was or that I shouldn't be so certain." She gives a soft giggle. "She's always telling me they know but I'm not so sure that's always true." She starts to shift the sand with one hand. Bits of sand grains are picked up by the wind as they fall and fly around hither and yon. "Do any of you have a strong feeling about any one egg?"

"I really like the colorful one. It just seemed happy and bouncy and interesting to me." Ilyse says, referencing the Life's Colorful egg. "But they're all just as unique as each of us. So different in how they approach and act." She says, "The memories and feelings stay with you, even after you pull your hand away, you know?" She sounds a little maudlin there. Might be nerves. "Oh, sorry, don't mean to sound dour or down." Her expression brightens. "They'll be a great clutch."

Kytaer is a lot less contributory - maybe his contribution is all tied up in his anticipation, though it's more likely that he's more concerned with his brackets than anything else. Because all he says is, "Not really." After a moment of silence, the feeling that people are looking at him and expecting more than that nags, and he reluctantly adds, "Couple of 'em were interesting but nothing really stood out as a connection."

"Some of them…" Sabrael starts out a little uncertantly, expressing her opinion, "seemed really excited to get out." She digs her feet into the sands, uncovering a deep red under the top golden-tan. Tilting her head she reaches forward one hand to dig down a little deeper, revealing a very dark red sand. Perfect. The little bowl she's totally had this whole time is brought forward and Sabrael scoops that sand into it.

With her eyes firmly on the little sandfall she's got going on, it's a great chance for the candidates to slip something passed Janja should they feel the need. "Do any of you have any plans for after?" Her voice is dreamy as if she's only half paying attention, though that could have something to do with the big golden boat floating back towards shore. "It would be a shame if you all left right after I just finally got your names." IT seems the weyrwoman doesn't notice that this might just be insulting to some, or even sound unnervingly as if she doesn't think they might impress.

"I don't know if I'll go back or not. I don't really have a home." Ilyse admits. "Don't really have that much in the way of clothing either." She looks at her threadbare outfit. "Anywhere is better than spending two turns in the forest alone." She murmurs this, almost half to herself. "I guess I'll…" She looks around. "Or we will figure it out when and if it happens?"

"Already posted here and not planning to change that," says Tae, who isn't looking up, still, but at least he's talking. He doesn't appear to have any doubts as to his lack of Impression; he was totally in this for Rylia not killing him and because Halimedes encouraged it. "Keep forgetting neither of you two were here before - y'should stay," is the nicest thing he has ever actually said about or in regard to either Ilyse or Sabrael, but it seems as if he means it.

"I… was kind of thinking, maybe, I could see if Harper HAll would have me? Eryzan said he would introduce me to an artist there." There's a whole lot of not looking around going on, as Sabrael finishes packing her bowl full of sand. Finally, she looks up, but over at Ilyse. Leaning slightly she bumps the other girl with her shoulder. See, friends. Ilyse has got them. Even as Sabrael talks about leaving. "Though, um, I should stay till I finish the weyrleader's pictures."

"Ah." Seems Janja doesn't really have anything to add to this, but she frowns a little, looking..sad? Meanwhile the gold boat has gone from sort of close to head lifted above the water and laid down on the sand beside her rider. Janja's face moves into a lovesick smile as she turns to half lean against Feyruth's head and stroke the queen's eyeridge as she does. "Hello, my heart." She whispers to the gold. "Did you enjoy your swim?"

Ilyse doesn't draw back at the sudden arrival of the gold, but she does place her hand on Sab's leg as if to let her know it's okay. It's a friendly, comforting jesture. "Thank you for the opportunity, either way." She turns to the others. "With your knack for fixing things, you've got a place anywhere." She tells Ky. "And if you don't impress, which I somehow /doubt/" She offers to Sabrael "You'll be a magnificent Harper painter. You're much better than I am." She laughs at that.

"I follow my journeyman around, or at least that's what I'm doing now, until I'm a journeyman myself, and then I'll just be busy with a mastery project," Kytaer says as if any crafter's destination is mastery and the fact that he's going to become a master someday is a totally foregone conclusion. "But as long as I'm his right hand, I'm here. Because this is where he wants to be, and there's a lot for us to do."

Nope, Sabrael doesn't flinch too badly. In fact, she's looking at Janja and the gold with a very small smile. No matter that the gold may or may not eat her at some point, it's obvious that the weyrwoman loves her dragon, and that Feyruth isn't eating her. (That means she loves her back.) Sabrael lays her hand on Ilyse's, and squeezes back. A silent thanks for the encouragement.

With one last affectionate pat, Janja turns back to actually look at the candidates. "Maybe I will just tell Neyuni I want to keep all of you." She seems taken with the idea, just as if she believes she has the right to just keep people willy-nilly, without regards to their own desires. "Maybe if you don't impress now you can try one of Feyruth's clutches. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a Fey baby?" She just glows at how wonderful and awesome that would be. Possibly to those who /don't/ believe that the gold will eat them.

"I've liked it here. I've met my fellow candidates." She squeezes Sab's hand in return, holding it. "Met Sab here…" She leaves the rest unsaid, her affection for the other girl warm and obvious. "So I wouldn't mind it at all." She says, her smile warm and broad.

Kytaer opens his mouth, but what he's going to say is interrupted by the presence of a shadow overhead - a shadow belonging to a foreign brown dragon. Iernian, and polite enough to inform Igen's queens and Sindrieth of his approach, demuring that he's merely there to visit one of their candidates, drop off his rider for a few, allow her to pick up a package. That's Tae's cue to exit: "That is who this is for," with a gesture at the fan he's now placed back in the box, "and I'd better go meet her. Nice talking to you all. Ma'am." Janja gets another salute (and Feyruth a bow) as he exits to meet Seheriyath and Rylia, give them their gift, and tell them all about how terrifying impressing a child of Feyruth might be.

"I've liked meeting the eggs." Sabrael offers this as she leans against Ilyse. "I… don't think I'd mind meeting others." When Kytaer stands and heads off Sabrael raises a hand in silent farewell. "It's just… I don't know if any of the harpers here know art?"

Janja's eyes widen as Tae goes running off. She looks to the two girls clearly surprised. "Do you know, all the candidates run away from me? I almost started to think I smelled or something but Lu told me I didn't." She pats the gold again, who's eyes whirl in slow lazy blue-green circles. "Well, I don't know that I know art but I can show you a bit about drawing. Have to draw when you design clothes." And it's one of those rare moments when Janja sounds competent and capable, instead of her normal fluff for brains. "I only use colored pencils though."

"I didn't run away when we first met, Weyrwoman." Ilyse counters before she goes quiet again, her arm moving to rest around Sab's shoulders as the younger of the two women ends up in a conversation with the Weyrwoman. To be honest, Ilyse had forgotten Janja was a designer. Seeing her outfits she knows that she's fairly good.

"Really?" Sabrael perks up at Janja's offer, sitting up from her lean on Ilyse. She leans forward just a little, the first movement towards Janja the tiny teen has made. "I don't really know anything but… I um, I wouldn't mind learning a little more."

"Really." Janja says with a nod. She motions the other girl a bit closer even as she stretchs her legs out to allow the strange swim wrap attire to dry better. "Sure. You know, when I'm not busy doing other things that is." The gold snorts, blowing hot, dragony air all over the trio and Janja giggles. "Oh don't be silly, Feyruth. Of course I can find time." She adds, motioning towards Sabrael. "Just come by my weyr after the hatching. You know. If you have time that is."

Ilyse's firey red hair flows in the breeze, causing it to look like flames bursting from her. She quickly reaches up to manage her hair before she looks towards Sabrael and smiles. "I'm still betting she impresses. So it might be a bit longer.. but there you go, Sab. A reason to stay."

See, now there's this warm blanket alllll around Sabrael. She's always had her family, but now it's more than just her hold and familiar family. These are strangers who have accepted her. "Thank you Ma'am. I really appreciate the offer."

As the gold's eyelids close and she falls into a doze, Janja smiles. "Oh I think you're all going to impress." Granted there are only ten eggs and many more then ten candidates. But those details seem unimportant to the weyrwoman. "who do you think is going to impress which colors?" she asks of the ever so firmly committed Ilyse. There's a girl who's got ideas.

"Oh my, I…" Ilyse says as she looks from the Weyrwoman back to Sabrael and she smiles at the little one. "If there is a goldrider in among us, it'd be Sab. Seems to always find the ones with the best inner strength. The heart of a leader." She offers, beginning. "The others? I did so terribly last time I tried to choose." She pauses, thinking. "I could see Kytaer on a Brown, or blue. He doesn't seem the typical Bronzerider to me." Ilyse admits. "Ivaylo? Bronze, definitively." She laughs. "Ery and Ere? I don't know, really." She shrugs at the others. "Like I said, I was horribly wrong." She leaves herself out.

Excuse Sabrael for a second, as she does her own math. Ten eggs. More candidates. Not everyone can impress. Only after she has settled the math in her head (it doesn't work, so Janja must just be saying that to be reassuring or something) does she snap back to hear Ilyse's comment about her. "Oh, no, not me." Gold's eat people, remember? Her hair falls forward to half hide her face and Sabrael plays with the end of it. "I think Ivaylo'd be a nice bronze… He's really nice. And Ilyse." Because gotta stick with the friends! "she could be gold, or blue."

Janja's brow furrows for a moment, but she just shakes her head and goes on. "Don't think there could be more than one gold out there. So one of you has to be something else." The gold breathes heavily again and the stench of dragon breath sails over the group. "Sorry, Fey. Of course your clutches are the most important. I'm sure they wish it was your eggs on the sands." She gives the girls an awkward 'I'm sorry' sort of smile. "She takes her clutches very seriously."

"I'm sure she does. I'm no goldrider dear." Ilyse says to Sabrael. "Never even entertained that thought." She looks up to Janja. "No offense Weyrwoman, but I see the stress you both have to go through. Green or blue for me, and I'd …." A pause. "Any dragon, after being left. Any dragon would be perfect for me." She offers quietly.

Sabrael is ignorant of any stresses that go on in a goldrider's life. She's ben sheltered. But Ilyse's comment does draw a small frown onto Sabrael's forehead. She doesn't know anything about her friend except she'd stood at another weyr. An arm slides around Ilyse as Sabrael gives her a quick hug. "They're her babies… it makes sense."

Feyruth's head slowly begins to rise, taking Janja's arm with it. At the last second when she must decide to hold on and be pulled up or let go, Janja allows the movement to pull her up to her feet. "Oh. We have to go now." She turns to look at the gold who's continued to rise to her feet. "If you'll excuse me." So saying, she begins to scramble up the gold's leg, politely offered to assist. Once on Feyruth's back, the gold begins to lumber off, owing possibly to the complete lack of straps for Jan to hold on to.

Ilyse squeezes Sabrael tightly before she stands up and reaches out for the younger girl's pot. "Here, let me help you get this back."

"Be well," Sabrael murrmers as Janja stands and leaves. She lets Ilyse pick up her pot, but reclaims it once she is back on her feet again. As they leave Ilyse will find Sabrael looking at her, many questions, but none actually asked yet.

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