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Post by Missa on Apr 29, 2008 6:26:33 GMT -5
Have you been paying attention at all? Thoth sounded rather amused as he watched Beka turn her head towards him, crossing her arms over her chest grumpily. It was such a childish pose, His shouldn't sulk like this, really, it had only been a question. Snorting softly, he began to speak again, only to be interruppted, I said-- I heard you. I was paying attention, two blues Impressed from the stands. I don't recongise them.
Like wise, she'd noticed the strangers as well, and strangers never boded well for anything. It was never good, ever, but there was nothing Beka could do. The Hatching would continue, whether there were strangers on the sands or not. They were riders too, or at least she thought so- Maybe if you emerged from our weyr once a turn, you might know them. Do you know the dragons that are here? ... No, but I at least know most of the dragons in our weyr. ...Shut up. I'm not having this argument with you.
Still, it was strange, why would strange riders come to Sanctum? The weyr was barely a blip on the map wasn't it? It was one of the reasons Beka liked the weyr, it was nice, it was also small. What better could you do? It wouldn't hurt if it was bigger. It wouldn't kill you to socialize. Thoth, what are they saying? Do you know why they're here? No, should I?
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Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
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Post by Symphony on Apr 30, 2008 9:15:02 GMT -5
"What can I do for you, V'lren?" Liyanna asked quietly, though her heartbeat back in her throat. Where was Yn're? She wanted more than anything to grill him on what happened, but there was no time, not with two strangers in front of her. The hatching behind her drew her attention quickly, and before the bronzerider could respond, Liyanna was standing up. Anger painted itself quite colourfully across her face and she whirled to look at the bronzerider accusingly, "You bring candidates to my Sands without permission? Is that the kind of manners your Weyr breeds?" Ariannalyth, get the Wingleaders up here, now. I don't want these people unwatched. I want Q'in up here with me. Tell X'veir and Rhosyth to stay at the edge of the Sands; I don't want those candidates to leave without my talking to them. The instructions were silent as she met the bronzerider's eyes.
However, her accusation was lost on him, as he shook his head, polite as before. "No, Weyrwoman; we brought a smith, two harpers and a healer to come investigate. The harpers are to record our documents, the healer to see of any new healing techniques that we have yet to discover and share knowledge, and the smith for much the same reason. I am not sure why your dragons would choose them," he said, and there was no malice in his voice, "but they were in the Stands and in the Stands is the best place for them to be until your Hatching is over. We do not wish to make a scene, but might we stay and talk with you when the eggs are through hatching?"
Folding her arms, Liyanna nodded curtly, then turned back to the Hatching as Ariannalyth relayed the message and answered Rhosyth, Mine asks that yours stay at the edge of the Sands and keep an eye on the two who Impressed. She is aware but there is nothing to be done at the moment; she thanks you for asking. Romeath, Liyanna requests your rider join her - she is not comfortable with these strangers. Pausing, Ariannalyth then added for Thoth and Suftath to hear, Thoth. Suftath. Find their dragons, keep them isolated. I want to know what they came for but for now, keep them where they are. Do not let them leave. It was what Liyanna would have said, if she wasn't busy being nervous. Ariannalyth wasn't nervous. She was a queen and the days when she was easily intimidated were gone with her adulthood. Unbeknownst to her, the two dragons in question were, in fact, at that very moment out in the Weyrbowl with no intentions of going anywhere.
* * *
While the strangers and Liyanna bickered, the Hatching went on. Two eggs shuddered: the Illusions Egg and the Cracks Egg. However, the latter rolled over and shattered against the Swirled Egg, both breaking at the same time to reveal two greens. The Cracks Green lifted her head and made a noise low in her throat, sounding suspiciously like trilling, before her wings flared. Her sister backed up and then shrieked, zooming across the Sands at top speeds before she ran into the stands with force enough to bruise. Creeling, she called out to the second harper from the north in the Stands, leaving the Cracks Green to circle the eggs as though she owned them. There was an almost feline grace to the way the female moved, her eyes scanning the crowd of people still lingering on the Sands. Which one of them would be good enough for her, if any? She crept forward, her unnaturally long tail whipping around behind her as she tried to decide.
The best way to describe the green's appearance was stormy. She looked more gray than green and she was positively huge. There was no denying what colour she was, though, from the feminine sounds she made as she moved across the sounds; it was akin to purring, but more dangerous by far. Her eyes whirled as she examined and discarded the candidates before her - they were not worthy of her, none of them were. She snorted, then smacked her tail down in the sand defiantly before catching sight of something -- blood.
Cocking her head to the side, the Cracks Green thrummed to herself before moving forward toward the blood on the Sands. Her wings flared out around her, as if to keep a space between her and any who might approach, and once she reached the blood splatter, she turned to find its source. Her gaze locked on Tiramnet and she stared at her, watching, waiting. Her gaze lingered on the stain of scarlet, before she finally folded her wings down again and turned toward where Morreliath and S'kor went -- and then shrieked in their direction. How dare you hurt mine! Defiantly, she started toward Morreliath, though she spoke for Tiramnet to hear, Tramine, do not worry - Nikeath will make him pay for that!
Behind her, the Illusions egg finally stopped rocking, only to have the Smoke Egg completely shatter to reveal a third green... who seemed completely lost, but made no effort to approach the candidate. Her gaze was on Nikeath stalking across the sands toward Morreliath, clearly hell-bent on teaching him quite the lesson.
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Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
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Post by Symphony on Apr 30, 2008 9:16:16 GMT -5
Green Nikeath Name: Nikeath Pronunciation: NYE kee AH th Age: Hatchling Color: Green Egg: Cracks Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: Gold Freseath & Bronze Ruinith Looks To: Tiramnet -- "Tramine" Physical Description: From the moment she hatched, Nikeath has been large, an eye-catcher of a green if only for her size, and that size is not likely to change. At hatching she is the size of a brown dragonet, and though she'll likely never reach the size of her brown brothers in adulthood, it is a reasonable guess that she will match her blue brothers with ease. Her wings are positively massive, more stream-cut than most greens, and her body is built long, lean and muscular, the toning rippling beneath her skin with every motion. No doubt this is a dragon possessing an uncanny amount of strength, for each of her movements alludes to her predatory nature. She has a disproportionately long tail, noticably so, and the wedge at the end is strangely long and slender, built more like the end of a dagger or a sword than most dragons. This long tail will not be likely to help her in flight, though it will doubtlessly be a good way for her to express her emotions as it functions much like a whip - deadly fast and startlingly strong. Woe betide the fool who gets in its way when she is in a bad mood. Nikeath's colour seems to make up for the startling nature of her build, for at first glance she is nothing extraordinary. Her hide is a grayish green best described as the color of the sky just before a twister touches down, a dusty green that is considerably more muted in color than most of her clutchmates. However, on closer examination, someone looking at her might notice that around her backridges and spreading down her tail, there seems to be almost 'needlework' lighter greens, as if someone took glittering green thread and sewed it into her hide for accentwork. Her ridges themselves are darker and more gray in hue than the bulk of her hide, as are the edges of her wings. Around her eyes are the only traces of typical green color - forest green masking that will likely earn her teasing nicknames like bandit until people and dragons alike realize just what a mistake teasing Nikeath truly is. Personality: Nikeath is the green who should have been a bronze. Extremely calm and composed, this dragon commands an air of authority unlike any of her colour; maybe it's her size, or perhaps because of the fact that she will take no grief from anyone (And indeed this applies even to her rider - she demands respect and will settle for nothing short of it!), but this is one dragon whose temper most people will refuse to trifle with. Intelligent beyond what most would consider normal for a green, Nikeath has a warrior's heart and ambition - never will she settle, never will she be satisfied for second best. She is a hard worker, willing to push herself beyond what most would consider the normal limits of a dragon, in order to prove that she truly deserves as much acknowledgment as any bronze - her ambition is limitless, and her fears nonexistent. Nothing can stop her when she puts her mind to it, and the things she wants, she goes after with a fierce determination. Obstacles are moved, gone around or simply destroyed in the process. Let nothing stand in the way of her accomplishing her goals. Despite the fact that this green can and will make life hard for her rider for awhile (for she will demand an extraordinary amount of attention to keep her in line and she has a temper to rival any queen's), it will become obvious immediately that Nikeath is not just selfish and goal oriented. She is also an extremely brave friend who considers her bonded the most important person in the world and no one's word is higher, not even a queen's. Bold as she is, she is the type to defend her lifemate's actions unto her own death if it so comes to pass, even if she knows she's wrong. Fiercely loyal to a fault, she will not allow anyone to push Hers around, and she most definitely will not stand for anyone mistreating her. But she is not just vicious - no, this green is positively brilliant with thinking up elaborate schemes to avoid taking the fall for the things she wants. While she'll doubtlessly get herself into trouble, expect her to find ways to pin anything she does wrong off on others --- and to help her rider do the same! Swirled Egg -- Impressed: Green Esmadryth to Journeywoman Harper Lisande NPC Plot Char
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Post by Neeuqtar on Apr 30, 2008 10:40:30 GMT -5
Tira threw up her hands and stalked away from the bronze and his new rider. What an unreasonable creature! Irked, she shucked the rest of her ruined Candidate robe, wiping the worst of the blood off of her arms (but carefully not disturbing the actual wounds), then chucked it towards the entrance. Quite coincidentally it flew with amazing accuracy at the back of S'kor's head, though Tiramnet was quite innocently Standing in place, bloody fingers laced behind her back. She struggled to keep track of what was going on where--to her, it looked as if it was in the same plane, though it was a fairly sharp image. A difficulty that came with her scarlet gaze...
The attitude of the Cracks Green made her smirk. There was a girl who wouldn't lie down and let bronzes get their way... How dare you hurt Mine! an angry voice cried, as the dragon gave Tira a look before stalking after Morreliath, he streamlined, over-large wings held out like Rage in full mantle. The smirk grew into a very wicked smile. Oh, she liked this green! Tramine, do not worry - Nikeath will make him pay for that![/i] the green added, her voice vengeful. Tira strolled after the infuriated green, keeping well out of range of the tail which snaked through the air with all the force of a whip.
Just don't mark him permanently, hmm? Tiramnet replied wickedly. I'm sure you're hungry, after all. The dragon hissed, not giving up her furious stalk, her tail lashing more than ever. He hurt you, Tramine! the dragon snapped back, stopping short of Morreliath. Well, yes, Tira replied. But he is just a baby, she added. The dragon made a mental harrumph, then turned her attention back to the bronze. Apologize to her! she snapped at the bronze, snarling, her pale fangs on display, all talons unsheathed and digging into the thin sand at the edge of the Grounds. Tira grabbed a bucket of meat and leaned against the wall. She had a feeling that telling Nikeath to relax would just result in worse affects than possibly scratching a bronze who picked the Candidate who could have seriously injured him.
But maybe it would work out alright. Miracles happened. Such as this green... picking her! "You know," Tira drawled, tucking silver hair behind one ear, her black clothing looking far better on her than the white robe had, "You probably should pay attention to her." Tiramnet felt the flood of affection from the dragon, the miracle of Impression which had been muted by rage, and fought the silly grin which threatened to capture her expression. "She's hungry and angry... and female."
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Post by Yakura on Apr 30, 2008 20:37:22 GMT -5
Q'in had intended to go to the Hatching, he truly had, but he had, as with many others things, completely and utterly forgotten. He had spent a good portion of his time pattering about, searching for a lost tunic. Needless to say he had eventually found it, though he had found it in a much different place than one would expect. Since when had he placed it in the kitchen? He personally blamed Nuisance, for the little green flitt had a penchant for hiding his clothing, or so he claimed. As it was, Romeath knew full well that it had ended up there by some others means, though he was disinclined to disclose such information to His.
After his successful search, Q'in had returned to his Weyr to take a brief nap. Said brief nap had evolved into one of particular length and Romeath had fallen asleep as well, though his was a much lighter and more restless sleep. He had awakened once when the Hatching began to inform His, but Q'in had merely waved the bronze away, fully intent on sleeping, completely oblivious to the Hatching. That changed, though, when Romeath, who had been stirring languidly, was brought back to reality by the voice of Ariannalyth.
The bronze straightened immediately, his lax attitude swiftly dissolving. Mine, wake up, and hurry, he said sharply, tail cracking like a whip in the air behind him. Q'in was immediately up, rubbing the remnants of sleep out of the corners of his eyes and yawning, though the intelligent glint of perception in his eyes could not be missed. Romeath was not fooled by Q'in's show. His rider knew that something was not correct, for he had awoken immediately and without complaint. Romeath did not wait for His to question him either. You are wanted in the Hatching Sands. Liyanna has need of you.
Frowning, Q'in quickly got to his feet, pausing for a brief moment to snatch up the correct garb, donning it without question or hesitation. It was an order from the Weyrwoman and the Senior Queen, after all, and both Q'in and Romeath would obey them without question. That didn't mean they couldn't wonder, though. Romeath shifted impatiently as Q'in splashed water on his face and gave his hair a quick pat to keep it flat before jogging over to the bronze, staring up at Romeath with a quizzical half-smile on his face. It was obviously a question of what was going on and why Liyanna would want him on the Sands, but Romeath had just as many answers as Q'in at the moment. After a moment of staring at each other, Q'in scrambled astride Romeath, leaning close. "Set me down near the Hatching. Watch the area."
The bronze leapt out of the Weyr, plummeting for a moment before wide wings snapped open to catch the wailing gusts of wind that buffeted the pair. Q'in squinted against the wind as Romeath flew surely and confidently through the lashing rain, guided more by Q'in's memory than by sight. It was nearly impossible to see anything, and although the distance was relatively short and the journey was more than difficult, it was the shortest way to arrive. Arrive they did, Romeath settling down less than gracefully, pulling his wings closed with some strain against the wind and hunching down as His slid to the ground, landing loudly in a puddle. The sound was lost over the howling air and Q'in was already off towards the Hatching Sands, jogging a short distance through the rain, splashing carelessly through puddles.
He paused momentarily at the entrance of the Hatching Sands, basking in the warmth they provided before he shook himself off, wasting hardly any time at all. If he was called it had to be important. Straightening his rumpled, wind-blown clothes, Q'in walked the last few steps to the Sands and was greeted by the glorious sight of eggs and dragonets. Easily more than half of the eggs were gone, with some hatchlings on the Sands. He smiled to himself at the sight of another bronze before turning his attentions back towards the Stands, the soft smile melting off his face, replaced by an unfathomable expression. Strangers.
Without a word Q'in made his way past the others gathered towards the small group, one of whom he immediately recognized as Liyanna. For the first time he allowed his electric blue gaze to flick over to the Stands, his eyes narrowing when he saw more strangers - three, in fact, with dragons. This was unprecedented, this was.... He didn't know how to describe it. Lips pursing into a tighter line, Q'in attempted to relax his stiff shoulders as he approached the group, making a quick bow to Liyanna as he arrived.
"Weyrwoman," he stated simply, coming to a stop near her and turning his gaze to the strangers. He managed to relax his face into what he hoped was a welcoming smile, though his eyes were narrowed more than usual. He tilted his head forward in gracious acceptance despite the tense atmosphere, his attention cautiously split between Liyanna and the other riders. They were not from Sanctum, he knew that much. So where were they from? He somehow managed to maintain a patient silence, though his question hung unsaid in the air, only adding to the growing anxiety he was feeling.
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Post by tarra on May 1, 2008 4:44:47 GMT -5
Tarra Tarra watched with growing trepidation as yet another of the Sanctum hatchlings called out to a stranger in the Stands, causing an easy ripple to wind through the crowd. Everyone, it seemed, was trying to stand clear of the strangers, giving them a wide berth. And why, she wondered, were those hatchlings Impressing so to the newcomers? It didn't make sense: Impressions from the Stands were rare enough on their own, but to have every Impression from the Stands be from the group of strangers was queerer still. Something was up. She didn't know what just yet, but the coincidence was too great to ignore.
Suftath, high on the ledges, snapped her head towards the Senior Queen as the commands sank in. She dipped her head, a low warble leaving her jaw as her humming dwindled and ceased. She relayed her assent as she spread her wings and leaned over the ledge edge.
Mine and I will find them.
The green tilted and pushed herself off, drifting down from the ledges in a smooth clean glide, scanning for Tarra. The flash of her emerald-streaked wings caught the greenrider's eye. The young woman looked up in surprise at her approaching dragon. What was happening now? She could only surmise that the Queen had said something, and a questioning tug at the green's mind elicited a confirming response.
Mine, the Queen says we are to find the strange dragons and stop them from leaving.
Tarra nodded, wishing Liyanna had not chosen her for this task. She hardly knew what she could do to keep another dragon from leaving. Should she tie them down? Get Suftath to sit on them? She pushed the thoughts aside and ran through the crowd to the edge, where Suftath had alighted and was awaiting her.
Alright love, lets do it. Where...where would a newly arrived dragon wait?
The Weyrbowl...or the Feeding Grounds.
Aye, lets try the Weyrbowl first then, it's quite nearer.
Suftath rumbled assent again as her rider clambered onto the smooth green shoulders. Moving gently to avoid upsetting Tarra since she had no riding straps, the green slid lightly out into the tearing rain, and began a swift glide towards the Weyrbowl. The woman bowed her head against the wind-lashed droplets, perring though the veils of rain in an attempt to find the strange dragons, whoever they were. Already her clothes were soaked through, and her skin trembling with the chill.
~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~
S'kor[/u] S'kor hardly noticed the commotion on the Stands, his attention more tilted towards feeding the growing hunger weighing on his consciousness. With Morreliath's shadow bearing over him, he found the corner where the buckets of meat were stashed, and proceeded to pick out the biggest, most-filled one of them all. The bronze dragonet watched with barely-hidden impatience, his tail twitching as his nostrils distended, taking in the metallic-sweet smell of bloody meat.
Mine, any of them will do. Just let me take some...
No no, don't eat from all of them. Here, this one.
The boy tugged the bucket out with an effort, and Morreliath's muzzle dropped to snatch a sizeable chunk from the top even as he set it down hard beside the bronze. S'kor laughed...
...and then broke into a splutter as something white, red, and heavy struck the back of his head and snapped about his face with the force of its impact.
Mine!
Coughing, the weyrling caught the strands of the tattered robe bits in both hands, struggling to pull the tangled cloth from his face and neck. S'kor heard Morreliath's rumbling snarl of anger just as he ripped the last one off, and only a quick thought stopped the raging bronze from barrelling back onto the Sands after the girl.
No love, wait!
Mine, she threw that cloth at you!
No, I don't think she saw it...
An angry shriek rang across the Sands, and Morreliath rumbled his own cry in reply. Groaning, S'kor dropped the tattered cloth on the ground and stumbled over to his dragon's side. The bronze had flung his own wings wide in response to Nikeath's threatening stance, his head reared high and talons tensed as he stood to his full height on all fours to bring home the implications of his superior size and strength. S'kor stared, aghast, at the screeching green, and then his eyes fell on the smaller figure that trailed her. Hazy-brown eyes widened, then narrowed to a frown.
What on earth was Tira doing? Trailing behind the green that was obviously hers by Impression, it looked to S'kor as if she were bringing her dragon over to pick a fight, hiding behind the green's formidable size and bulk. Almost like a bunch of boys looking to fight their canines with one another for a bet. S'kor had never approved of the practice: it was downright cruel. That a weyrling might do it was even more repulsive. Hadn't Tira already said she didn't want his or Fariel's help earlier? That she would seek to punish the bronze who had accidentally knocked her down didn't make sense in light of her eagerness to help Morreliath with the tangled robe just minutes before. She was just plain baffling.
But whatever the case was, the boy knew one thing only: the dragonets could not be allowed to fight. They were both young, not yet fully sure of their strength - they could do serious damage to each other without even knowing it. He started to step between them.
Love...
I will not apologize! Why should I? Morreliath's retort was so strong it hit both Nikeath and S'kor, making the latter wince. S'kor blinked, trying to gather his thoughts after the explosive blast, and his glance went over to Tira as she began talking.
"You know, you probably should pay attention to her. She's hungry and angry... and female."
Even in the heat of the situation the boy could not help but note how much better she looked without the clumsy white robe obscuring her features. And she had tattoos. He blinked in surprise at her exposed hands. But the sharp tug of his near-raging lifemate brought him back to himself just then, and he scrowled as he stepped out between Morreliath and Nikeath.
"Well, I'm paying attention," the bronze hissed at this, but S'kor ignored it, "For that matter, you should pay attention to him too: he's also hungry and angry. And maybe you didn't realize, but he's much bigger than your lifemate."
He made a half-bow, respectfully, to Nikeath as he said this, his voice quiet but strong. Morreliath's natural regality was fuelling his responses, bending his mind to actions he would not oterwise consider. But the bronze was hardly interested in being polite.
Mine, you embarress me!
The statement cut deeper than it ought to, and S'kor felt himself snap back, harsher than he wanted, No, I'm trying to save your hide! If you hadn't gone barrelling into anyone this wouldn't have happened!
I don't need you to save me. The bronze sauntered forward, staring down at Nikeath, his natural memory bringing forward all the scenes as he had seen them play out, echoing them across the mental links almost frame by frame like proof of guilt with the strength of anger, I did nothing wrong: Yours was in the way to Mine and would not move. Mine had to risk hurting me to help Yours! And Mine tried to speak to Yours earlier, but Yours won't listen, and then throws her robe at him! Who should be apologizing?!
S'kor, in the meanwhile, addressed Tira again, his hazy-brown eyes glinting points of sharp anger, influenced more and more by Morreliath's growing rage, "And why is your lifemate asking an apology, may I ask? Didn't you hear what I said earlier about Morreliath not meaning to do what he did? Or were you so caught up being angry with people trying to help you that you didn't even hear me trying to apologize then?"
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Post by Neeuqtar on May 1, 2008 9:23:57 GMT -5
Nikeath hissed again as Tira rolled her eyes. "Do you think I can stop her? I will only prevent her violence, not her anger," Tira said with narrowed eyes. "To do otherwise would be to strip her of her self." He hurt you! "And you already know why he hurt me," Tiramnet snapped back to the dragonet, red eyes angry now, speaking aloud for the benefit of the bronzepair. "You still can't hurt him back." The green was unintimidated by the bronze's size--she was huge for a green, brown-sized even, and the slightly larger bronze was not as terrifying as he might have imagined himself to be.
Do you know why she didn't move? She can't see distance well! And she was trying to play! The words hit the minds of Morreliath, S'kor, and Tiramnet, and the albino girl flushed crimson, with anger and embarrassment. "Nikeath!" The dragon ignored her, and Tira met S'kor's angry eyes with her own garnet gaze. Yours apologized to Mine. This apology is accepted for your actions. But you need to apologize to me to fix what you did.
"I heard your apology, even though I did not need your help. I care not for my wounds, but she does. Don't misconstrue her actions for mine." The green dragon circled with the bronze, keeping herself facing forward. I'm not backing down, Tramine Nikeath warned Hers, eyes as red as her rider's. I didn't expect you to.
Tira picked up her robe with the faintest flicker of a smile, balling it up and tucking it under her arm. Tiny poked her head out of Tiramnet's shirt, eyes whirling with hunger at the scent of blood, then quickly withdrew herself when she noticed just what was going on. "As for my robe, well... I did not want anger between us. My foster-brother used to do that to me, I thought it was normal between friends. Apparently I was mistaken at intent and your wishes." Her expression was flat and cold.
"Nikeath, we're leaving." No! the green cried, eyes flashing and tail lashing wildly, whippy and supple. Clearly the bronzepair would rather treat us as their lessers than accept responsibility for the dragon's actions. You are already the better, and I don't want you to hit him with your-- The thought was unfinished, for the dragon's tail had snapped at S'kor's shins with remarkable speed and force. --tail, Tira finished with a sigh. Sorry, Nikeath said snarkily to the dragon, before turning and bounding to her Tramine's side.
"Looks like you got in her way. My apologies," Tiramnet said, rolling her eyes at the dragon, who looked positively smug. I'm going to learn to do that on purpose, Tramine, the dragon said cheerfully. I'll help, Tira replied. "Can you eat now? she asked the dragon, keeping an eye on S'kor and Morreliath. I believe so, Nikeath replied, grabbing a chunk of meat from the bucket and swallowing it whole. Chew, please, Tira reminded the dragon, who grumpily complied, sure she had won.
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Rose
Searched
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Post by Rose on May 1, 2008 15:10:56 GMT -5
Fariel gasped and stared at Tiranment when she swatted her hand away, snarling at her and yelling at the boy for pushing the bronze. "We were just trying to help!" She said, surprised and annoyed. She didn't really know anything about how dragon anatomy worked, so she hadn't meant any harm. Sighing, she retreated back to her spot in the line.
She watched curiously as the girl confronted the bronze, rolling her eyes slightly. She was the stupid one? At least the bronze seemed a lot calmer now, so maybe they had done the right thing. Then, she noticed the look on Tsarkor's face, and the realization that he had Impressed slowly dawned on her. She grinned, laughing softly to herself. What irony!
Meanwhile, in between the fiasco with the Bronze, she saw that two Blues had impressed while she wasn't looking. She craned her neck to see who was leading them off, and found it odd that she didn't recognize them at all. Maybe they were new arrivals she hadn't noticed before, or something.
Next to hatch were two more greens. The first let out a shriek that made Fariel reach out to cover her ears. She ran up to the sands, impressing a girl there. Fariel had never heard of that happening before, and she was surprised. She felt a small spark of jealousy. An Impression from the stands meant that one less candidate from the Sands would impress. And, now that she thought of it, maybe the Blues she had missed had been Stands impressions, too.
Shaking her head, she looked back at the second green. She stalked towards the candidates, then stopped at Tiranmet. Fariel snorted as the Green then turned towards Morreliath, clearly wanting to give him a piece of her mind. Ah, such drama!
A third green was the next arrival. She looked a little dazed and confused, and who would blame her, with everything that was happening?
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Minji
Archivist
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Post by Minji on May 2, 2008 17:56:15 GMT -5
The dark bronze rumbled an acknowledgemen, but even though he wouldn't really be heard due to the intense thrumming of the good majority of the other dragons, he still did so. It was only a few short seconds later that he then relayed the message to X'veir who was quite disgruntled at having to get up from his comfortable spot, and it took quite little effort for the bronze to actually get his rider up and going.
"Why me? Why not another get another rider to do this, or better yet, Rhosyth can see over practically all of the other dragon's, so he'd be able to overlook the positions of those sharding Northerns..."
At this particular moment, as the bronzerider storde to the end of the Stands from which the invaders from the North had Impressed, was not at all in happy. Great Faranth by they were quite disrespectful for such intrusions, and worse that their people were Impressing the dragonlings that were supposed to go to the candidates that were for this Weyr.
Within a couple of minutes of thinking about what was going on, X'veir leaned against the entrance from where the group of Northern arrived and were the few Impressed. He was not showing any indactions of emotions, but his mind was working pretty much overtime and he was not going to let his angered expressions show least any of the strangers catch on to his intentions and make a possibly run away to who knew where exactly.
Rhosyth, make sure that nothing goes wrong from your spot.. If you are needed by anyone, be that dragon or human, do so unless you think otherwise.
X'veir spoke this through their mind link and simply, from tehn on, leaned intently against the wall with his arms folded over his chest and his gaze watching the action on the sands. It was a total same that three dragons Impressed to those strangers that had no rights to begin with here at Sanctum, but what could the bronzerider do? He could not just take away the dragonlings and cause any harm there.. No, he was simply ordered to keep an eye on those that Impressed.
Everything will be alright. I am sure that what is done, was not at all an accident.. Besides, would you have wanted three ddragon deaths?
Rhosyth, no matter how upset he might've been at the Impressions, at least had some common sense. There would have been no good not to have those people not show and cause the deaths of such young dragons. In fact, both he and X'veir knew it.
"I know.."
That was all the X'veir said, and even though he breathed this under his breath, he still indicated for his dragon to hear. The bronze was right, but still....
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Post by Boobalicious on May 2, 2008 20:16:06 GMT -5
[[It's short, but you wanted it so here it is. Jev in all his scatterbrained glory.]]
Anxiety had flickered through Jevorin briefly at the sight of the green and bronze facing off. What were they doing? He’d already known the answer, and his body grew slightly tense. Fortunately, the queen had intervened, separating the pair before things escalated. He’d released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The Impressions were followed one by one, alternating in his attentions with the eggs as they hatched. For a time, all seemed to go well with the Hatching. Jevorin was careful to move out of the way of any roving hatchlings that came toward him, although his eye was always open in case one of them looked as if they were coming to choose him.
But there was a commotion from the Weyrwoman’s direction that distracted the boy momentarily. Blinking, he glanced back toward the queen and her rider, noticing two strangers approaching. For a moment, his mind went blank, and he couldn’t think of what was going on. Strangers? At Sanctum? Immediately, Jevorin felt uneasy and shifted his stance slightly, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see something even more shocking… strangers, having Impressed their hatchlings! Stunned, it took the cracking of several more eggs to call him back to attention. He turned, a thoughtful frown on his face. What did this mean? Jevorin almost had the urge to leave the Sands and go find out. Hatchings happened at Sanctum. Strangers didn’t. Guess which he was suddenly more interested in? But Jevorin knew that leaving was out of the question, even for strangers.
Several more eggs hatched, including a few greens, one of which shrieked and startled Jevorin almost enough to make him flinch before barreling across the Sands and slamming into the stands with a sound that actually succeeded in making the boy flinch. Shards, was she touched in the head? But the green seemed to fine, calling down another of the strangers to Impress to. By now, the lad had made his mind up to be intrigued rather than outraged or disappointed. Why were their hatchlings going to strangers who weren’t even intended to Stand for this Clutch? It was something he mulled over in his mind with the rest of the dragonets sought out their mind mates. He didn’t even seem to notice anything that was going on around him—a danger when on the Hatching Grounds.
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Post by Missa on May 3, 2008 5:01:43 GMT -5
Slightly surprised by the order, Thoth's response was more instant than most would have gotten, this was his Queen ordering him to do something, there was no time for thinking about it. Of course Queen Ariannalyth. He replied quietly before watching the green take off, she could leave before him. Naturally, he'd think about the weyrbowl, that seemed to be the natural place to go when landing, but the dragons could have then circled up to the heights, since she was taking teh weyrbowl, Thoth would take His up to the heights and search there first.
Beka was concerned the moment Thoth turned from needling her to thinking, he was good at that, better at strategies than she was certainly, but why would he need them right now? It was a hatching, hatchings didn't mean bad things. Thoth... Pausing as the blue turned his gaze on her, only to speak in a very low tone. The queen wants us to find the strangers dragons and not let them leave. Are you going to come? Before he'd even finished speaking, Beka was on her feet and weaving her way trhough people to reach Thoth's side. She could find out later who Impressed what, this was more important right now.
Thoth nodded once as she clambered up, settling herself easily despite the lack of straps. He gave little warning before launching off into the rain, chuckling at Beka's curse at the cold, stinging raindrops falling from the sky like tears of the clouds. It didn't help her mood when Thoth dived through thoe clouds either, his whirling eyes searching the heights as he hovered before reaching out to the green also searching. Do we know their names? Or colour? I need to know, we're at the heights now.
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Post by tarra on May 3, 2008 8:09:30 GMT -5
S’kor Anger the strength of waves rolling and crashing the shore. It was the closest comparison S’kor could find for his Morreliath’s sense of outrage, and thinking above it was like struggling to keep adrift in a foaming sea at storm. He had experienced that only once before, when as a twelve-turn-old his friend had coaxed him out onto the sea for a day of fishing. It was the first and last time he dared to experience the Fishercraft. Let the fishing people keep to their boats: he was content with his own kind, the Beastcrafters with their more predictable animals.
He was fast believing, however, that dragons were anything but predictable. The sharp points of his eyes began to soften, hazing over again as he heard out Tira’s explanation. So, he had been wrong about her…again. It was not she who had brought the green over to pick a fight, but the green herself, seeking recompense for her rider’s wounds. He reached for Morreliath’s mind as Tira spoke up for the bronze-pair, trying to prevent Nikeath from pressing the attack.
You can’t hurt her either, love, his mind clashed with the bronze’s anger, struggling to cool the heated red of his lifemate’s thoughts, mingling the blue coolness of his natural empathy with all animals into the outraged fire of the dragon, You can’t deny you hit her lifemate first.
The dragon snorted back at him, Hmph!
And you are the larger, the stronger, S’kor tried another tact, still grappling to hold his emotions apart from the bronze: it felt like reasoning with himself – a vastly larger “himself”, Would you abuse that size and strength by attacking a smaller green? It’s unbefitting of a bronze...
He got no further. Nikeath’s mental sending streaked across all their minds, Do you know why she didn't move? She can't see distance well! And she was trying to play! [/i]
Silence fell a moment on the bronze-pair’s part, in the face of Tira's outrage at this revelation. S’kor, his face almost twisting in sympathy and guilt, was wishing he had never let the bronze’s anger push him into misjudging Tira yet again. Morreliath was considering if the situation would call for him to be magnanimous toward the girl…or disdainful of her disability - his rider's arguments about the fitting behaviours of a bronze were hitting home.
For about an instant, each was thinking independently of the other. They came together again in the next moment, and now they had more or less the same goals in mind for the situation. Never mind the differences in their underlying interests.
"I heard your apology, even though I did not need your help. I care not for my wounds, but she does. Don't misconstrue her actions for mine."
S’kor smiled, hazy-brown eyes meeting garnet red gaze with unerring clarity. No, not garnets: rubies, more like. Blood-red rubies like the fiery, fearless nature of the girl that he so admired, but was probably never going to get close to. Not after this.
“In the same way,” he spoke soft but clear, “I’m also influenced by my lifemate. But I'm sorry for misjudging you yet again.”
Morreliath rumbled at these words, an icy glare all he expressed outwardly as he turned toward Nikeath, matching turn for turn her movements in circling him. He was aware, with the awareness of instinct, that she might still hurt him…or his chosen. She was not backing down – but then, neither was he.
Mine is of greater honour than me, I would sooner tear you apart for your insolence and disrespect. But you had a point about Yours…I would apologize for that. I had not known she could not see clearly.
"As for my robe, well... I did not want anger between us. My foster-brother used to do that to me, I thought it was normal between friends. Apparently I was mistaken at intent and your wishes."
S’kor wished Tira would not look so cold as she spoke, but considering the circumstances, he hardly expected less of her. His own features had faded back to what they always were: smooth and calm, easily warm, always coolly in control like his herdbeasts and runners would expect him to be.
“You have an interesting foster-brother then. Did he also teach you that most people don't throw things at people they consider friends? But since you take that to mean…friendship, I should be thanking you for offering it, I guess.”
"Nikeath, we're leaving."
S’kor stepped back with a soft sigh as the green screamed her defiance as this statement. Tira, at least, had had enough of the confrontation. So had he. He reached for Morreliath’s mind,
Come love, we should be leaving too.
The bronze stood his ground defiantly, We’re not done yet.
Yes we are. Aren’t you hungry too?
Yes, but my clutch sister is not that sort, she’s….ay!!
The green’s tail slashed like a scythe for S’kor’s feet. Quick as a wind-lashed branch, the bronze’s tail curled around his lifemate, knocking the boy into his side as he did so. Nikeath’s tail glanced off the thick hide as Morreliath rose to his full height once more, a roar tearing from his throat.
Your apology is not accepted! the bronze flung back the retort in a snap of anger, Leave before I tear you apart, and Yours with you!
Love, enough, please, S’kor stumbled back upright, one hand against his dragon's side to steady himself, shaking his head to clear it, Please, lets get your stomach filled.[/color]
Ignoring Tira’s words with delibration, the boy stumbled away and walked towards the meat buckets. Morreliath glowered at Nikeath a moment longer, tail lashing in anger, then backed away towards his lifemate, eyes always on the green.
I'm sorry about that: did I hurt you?
Hurt? No love, you didn't, don't worry.A drop of red lay on the ground: the meat that the bronze dragonet had picked up earlier but been unable to finish. S’kor let it lie where it was and went to the bucket for a new piece. This he took up in one hand and carried to his dragon.
Here, eat. Make sure you’re chewing it.[/color]
Morreliath bent to take the meat, eyes always on Nikeath and Tira. He clamped it in his jaws, and paused.
Chew?
It was a long moment before S’kor comprehended fully. He blinked at the big bronze, felt his mouth twitch into a smile, then into a chuckle. After the tension of the last few minutes, the thought of the bronze not knowing how to chew just seemed so…innocent.
Open your mouth, aye, and close it again on the meat. Stick your teeth into it as you do. Keep doing that, right, that’s fine now…
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Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
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Post by Symphony on May 3, 2008 19:56:26 GMT -5
The three new strangers who had Impressed, rather than try to leave, were quite distracted moving to the feeding tables to take care of their dragons. Ariannalyth watched them in silence for a moment before turning to Nikeath and Morreliath, who appeared to be bickering on her sands. Finally outraged enough, she roared at the pair, her wings flaring her anger. Stop your petty bickering or I will stop you both! There could be no denying that she meant such a threat, her eyes whirling a brilliant scarlet. She trusted the dragons she ordered to go about what she had demanded; now it was time to keep the younglings in line before they killed one another. Ridiculous bickering and over the most silly things!
X'veir would find little to do, at least until the hatching was over, since the strangers were doing nothing but feeding their dragons. Tarra and Beka would find the strangers' dragons, a bronze and a blue, very easily: they were lounging in the Weyrbowl despite the rain, quite obviously enjoying the change in scenery from their usual home if the blue rolling about was anything to judge by, and rather than be rude, both trumpeted greetings to the arriving pair. They were very friendly dragons, and, like their riders, were very interested in Sanctum. Could anyone blame him? Sanctum was an established Weyr no one in the north had known about until recently, when Yn're was found. Quite odd to them, really.
Q'in's presence reassured Liyanna and she waved to him, a light smile on her face. Someone she recognized was welcome. "Q'in of Bronze Romeath, Wingleader, allow me to introduce V'lren of Bronze Eorenath and --"
"Rilanne of Blue Viskanth," the woman replied with a light nod. "We're from High Reaches Weyr, Wingleader. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Liyanna glanced at the bluerider, but didn't say anything to her. V'lren nodded, obviously agreeing with his companion, and Liyanna turned to gesture for Q'in to stay with her. She was glad he was there. Embarrassing as it was to admit, she felt safer when she wasn't outnumbered. One of them she could throw to the mercy of the Sands, but not two. Q'in and X'veir were the only ones she would have trusted, either. There were very few people at Sanctum that Liyanna truly believed in.
* * *
The Smoke Green chirped, confused, and then looked around. Slowly, she rose to her feet and thrummed low in her throat before moving across the Sands. However, she did not quite reach the candidates before a loud crack made her jump again. The green fell over and looked around, then crooned. The Ashes Egg had shattered to reveal a blue, who walked up to her, and rubbed his entire body against hers in an undeniable show of affection. However, the Ashes Blue, like the three before him, moved forward to the Stands and crooned up at someone hidden there -- the last of the four strangers. Puzzled, the Smoke Green squeaked at him, but then turned back to walk toward the crowd. She finally found hers in Iolanthe and called out to her with a sweet, musical croon.
Iolamine, your Kasandrath is very hungry. Will you feed me? I do not want to upset Ariannalyth as my clutchbrother and clutchsister have, she explained, curling around Iolanthe like a feline slinking around their owner's legs... except that she was much bigger and more strangely built. She crooned, again, and then flapped her wings. This sand is hot!
Behind her, the Mirage Egg rocked around before shattering against the Illusions Egg. Both eggs crumbled, revealing a glittering of gold and shades of autumn. The Mirage Brown, who was average sized for his color and definitely the more red-hued of the two, backed away nervously from his golden sister, who squeaked in surprise at suddenly being deposited on the Sands. Her wings spread and she turned before crooning sweetly, as if bidding her brother to find His first. Her hunger was insatiable, but there was no need for him to back away. The Mirage Brown looked at her for a moment before turning and walking toward the crowd, his wings flaring around him as he sought his... who was... looking away? Puzzled, the Mirage Brown quite pointedly butted Jevorin with his head, with more than enough force to knock the boy forward onto his face.
Well since you are so fascinated, J'rinmine, would you mind explaining to your Surroulath what is going on?
[ If you're interacting with the NPCs, feel free to godmode them, if this post isn't enough to give you much to work with. I have no major plans for them at the Hatching except for them to stand around anyway. ]
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Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
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Post by Symphony on May 3, 2008 20:01:27 GMT -5
Green Kasandrath
Name: Kasandrath Pronunciation: KAH sann DRA th Age: Hatchling Color: Green Egg: Smoke Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: Gold Freseath & Bronze Ruinith
Looks to: Iolanthe Physical Description: Long and lean, a first glance at this green might have someone thinking that Hers is neglecting her. It certainly seems as if her bones outgrow the rest of her body. Her neck, tail, and limbs are all quite long, but truthfully, they're in proportion with the rest of her body. While some may be so bold as to call her "skinny", it's through no fault of her rider's. Kasandrath's ribs show slightly against her hide, her neck and tail thin as the rest of her. Her head is long with a narrow snout, making her large eyes appear larger still. They're constantly whirling, always in motion and displaying the green's feelings unobscured. Her ridges are small, but sharp and triangular, thin and hard, looking as though they could cut flesh if given the opportunity. Her wings are exceedingly long, but not particularly wide. Unless she holds them at an awkward angle, Kasandrath usually ends up tripping over them. The bones within are thin, almost as transparent as the membrane stretched between them. Although she does appear weak, it's not a wise choice to underestimate this dragonet. While even the smallest of her clutchsiblings undoubtedly outweigh her, she is already longer than all the other greens, and perhaps even a few of the blues. If she ever grows into her length, she will be a force to be reckoned with. Although she will always be slender, odds are very good that she will in fact grow into her length once the rest of her body has a chance to catch up. As if to make up for her startling build, Kasandrath's hide is a rather drab olive color that mingles with a vaguely unpleasant brownish-green color. Her ridges are pale, however, a contrast against this darker hide color. Were it not for her size, she could almost be mistaken for an emaciated bronze. There are no actual markings to be seen, only slight variations in the color of her hide that usually go unnoticed the first several times. It's only when one steps back and truly looks at her that they realize her snout is not the same color as the tip of her tail. But don't expect the opportunity for such a look; likely a side effect of her build, this green can move like lightning, whirling about faster than an eye-blink. Even now, young as she is, it would be wise not to underestimate her. Personality: Anyone who spends any amount of time with this dragonet soon discovers the reason for her build. She is forever active, often darting about long after the rest of her clutchsiblings have succumbed to the lure of sleep. Kasandrath has endless amounts of energy, and she can't sit still until she's expended all of it. The only thing she will stop for any amount of time for is food. As soon as she's bolted down her meal, however, she's on the go again. Never was there a busier green! It doesn't matter that there's nothing really for her to be busy about... she does whatever she feels like. Because of her boundless energy, Kasandrath finds concentrating on something for any substantial length of time difficult. Even her mind is on overdrive, jumping from one task or problem to the next and rarely taking the time to actually see it finished. It is because of this that the dragonet is easily underestimated, dismissed as obtuse by quite a few who don't understand what it's like dealing with copious amounts of energy. However, if anything can hold her attention for long, she quickly proves that stupidity is not a factor. But because of her desire to always be on the move, always be active, always doing something, she is rather short on patience. Little quirks such as impatient snapping and tail-swishing will begin to show themselves early on. Because she's easily distracted, though, true shows of temper are rarely, if ever revealed. Despite her energy level (or perhaps because of it), Kasandrath is always coming up with new ways to amuse herself. She is not particularly outgoing, but neither is she shy, approaching others when she feels the need to do so. If she finds someone who's willing to indulge in her rigorous activities, all the better. However, much of the time she chooses to keep to herself and Hers, simply due to the fact that she finds it easier than trying to explain why she can't sit still longer than five minutes.
Brown Surroulath
Name: Surroulath Pronunciation: SURR oh LATH Age: Hatchling Color: Brown Egg: Mirage Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: Gold Freseath & Bronze Ruinith Looks To: Jevorin -- J'rin Physical Description: A slender curl of tail, arch of neck, perfectly lined wings -- on first glance, this dragon seems to be serpentine in the way that his body twists and bends, as though his bone structure is more flexible than any dragon's and his movements (which will doubtlessly be graceful), too, allude to this nature. He has a surprisingly wide pair of wings, though their length is not very impressive and as far as browns go he is no more than average size. He is very lean, muscular in his own way, but compared to many of his clutchmates this brown is likely to appear delicate -- do not be fooled! Those wings carry a great deal of strength and for his size he will always have a startling amount of speed. His ridges are oddly sharp in appearance and are the only part of this brown's physique that alludes to being more dangerous than simply delicate; even his talons seem to appear more dainty than a male's should... though there will never be any denying that he is male. Dust and fading leaves color this brown's hide, too; or so his appearance seems to be. Rather than one consistent color, his hide varies in shades of brown. The most prominent color of his hide is a rich reddish-brown that, had it a metallic sheen, would likely have appeared bronze. Mottled, this color bleeds into darker blurs that are nearly black in places as well as lighter, almost golden hues. If one were to look at Rukbat through autumn leaves, their colors changing due to the approach of winter, it is likely that the color would matc Surroulath's hide. The only consistency in his coloring is that he has very dark ridgings, closer to black. His wingsails, by contrast, are the lightest shade of brown imaginable, and can be mistaken for gold if one isn't careful -- but alas, he has no metallic sheen. His hide almost seems to have a red sheen to it, though only when light catches him just right. Personality: To strangers, Surroulath behaves like a slow, easy-going dragon. Soft-spoken, quiet in sound. He is a hard-worker and very fond of helping others, sometimes to the point of coming across as over-eager, and when he isn't busily trying to make someone else's life easier, he can usually be found acting as a firelizard perch somewhere sprawled out. Even from a young age this dragon seems to possess an unnatural patience that will probably make others around him envious. Certainly he will be just fine with Weyr and Holdbrats climbing all over him, with firelizards using him as a perch and even with others leaning against him and talking to him. Surprisingly, this dragon also is happy to talk to just about anyone - he is very willing to address others and it is not unusual for him to talk to people directly if he has something that needs saying. Therefore, conversations between Surroulath and random strangers will be something that his chosen will have to get used to walking in on. To His, Surroulath behaves very similarly - except that His gets to hear all the gossip. Those who trust Surroulath with their intimate secrets will find that his Rider knows everything they know. No secrets from his chosen! He is an insufferable gossip and fond of listening to any and everything he can hear and repeating it - sometimes misconstruing the facts as he goes. While he's very slow and lazy most of the time, he is also very fond of picking on his rider by doing things to embarrass him -- like telling everyone when he has a crush, or alerting the entire Weyr when his rider can't find a pair of shoes. Privacy is for people who haven't Impressed the biggest gossip on Pern. Firelizards are his constant companions because firelizards are very good about gossiping. Look out, Pern, this brown will be in on everyone's business -- whether they like it or not! Impressed; Blue Rivelath to Journeyman Smith F'par - NPC Plot Char
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Rose
Searched
Posts: 28
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Post by Rose on May 5, 2008 21:58:23 GMT -5
With her attention completely on the Hatching in front of her, Fariel had barely noticed the Bronze and Green weyrlings bickering by the feeding tables until Ariannalyth reprimanded them. As the Gold's roar sounded through the Hatching Grounds, Fariel gave a little squeak of surprise and jumped, nearly falling backwards. She flailed around a bit and managed to stay upright, but it was a close call.
"Shards, my poor old heart can't take this," she muttered melodramatically, putting a hand over her heart and rolling her eyes. The poor Smoke Green seemed just as overwhelmed. Fariel was happy to see another egg hatch into a blue, hoping that the two clutch siblings would encourage each other to find a rider. Instead, the blue went to someone else in the stands. Fariel narrowed her eyes, growing suspicious. A single stands Impression was one thing; four was a whole other beast. Was it possible that someone had planted candidates in the stands? Why, though? Nah, it had to just be coincidence.
Fariel was glad when the confused hatchling green got up and found her rider, and what's more, she actually chose from the sands. She did fight a twinge of jealousy, however. There were only a few eggs left, and she was beginning to grow worried that she wouldn't Impress. Ah well, if she didn't, at least she could still stay in the Weyr. Anything would be better than going back to that silly little cothold. At any rate, as an eternal optimist, she wasn't going to give up yet. As long as there were eggs, there was a chance.
Two more eggs hatched, revealing a Brown...and a Gold! Oooh, shiny! Fariel grinned, extremely pleased with herself for having guessed the Queen egg correctly. Too bad she hadn't actually bet any marks. Now, who would the prettyshiny Impress too? She was practically on the edge of her seat here.
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