|
Post by Yakura on Apr 24, 2008 8:17:22 GMT -5
The Sands were swiftly filling and Krii stood to one side, situated among the other Candidates, unable to hide the anxiety and excitement on her face. Prim had flown back down to land on her shoulder, the delicate green flitt trembling against Krii's neck. She knew that it wasn't out of cold or fear, but the contagious excitement that Krii felt. After all, this was the day when destinies were born out of eggs. Some would be left Standing, perhaps, but more would Impress. Already a third of the eggs had hatched, revealing two browns and a duo of greens, besides the blue who had hatched first. These dragons were quick to find Theirs, the Dusty Brown making his clumsy and stumbling way to his new bonded. Krii noted that his hide wasn't exactly the prettiest of shades, but decided to ignore that for the moment. There were more eggs, after all.
The Soot Egg had hatched to reveal a green, who had run hard into one of her companions, cracking the Mist Egg. While she went immediately to find Hers, just as round and full of baby fat as her brothers, the cracking egg breaking open just enough to reveal a tantalizing bit of hide. Despite all her squinting, Krii was unable to make out the hue of the dragonet within and turned her gaze back to the other eggs just in time to see a...black? dragonet burst out of the Vapor Egg. No, it was no brown, though it was close to being one. The dragon within was a very dark brown, not unlike the deepest of shadows. His awkward, stumbling walking was amusing and Krii hid a slight snort, her attention again diverted by more hatching eggs.
This time the Mist Egg finally hatched, spilling a green onto the Sands. She moved with a stunning grace, predatory and powerful, if not bulkier than her earlier sister. The other egg that hatched revealed a powerful bronze, who immediately began to flaunt himself for all to see, his powerful hide shimmering with the metallic color. Instead of backing down, though, as most would have done, the green stood her ground against the Ringed Bronze, her eyes whirling with a bright, defiant red. Krii felt a sudden surge of panic. Would there be confrontation on the Sands? She cast a hurried glance around, wondering if anyone dared to intervene. Although they were a good deal smaller than their adult counterparts, the dragonets were more than capable of dealing with any of the Candidates present, and each other for that matter.
Krii shifted nervously, one hand rising to pluck at her red-gold hair. No, a confrontation would be horrible. Her mind was already wandering away from the prospect of gore, though, back to what had occupied her mind for more than the past day. Would she Impress? She desperately wanted to, but she wasn't sure. What did dragons choose, anyways? No doubt her dragon - if she had one - would tell her, but she was sadly lacking such a companion. Prim let out a soft creel from her shoulder, the noise high and squeaking. The green flitt twisted lithely off into the air, her wide wings swiftly taking her higher, from where she could watch better, thoroughly leaving Krii alone to contemplate her thoughts.
|
|
Rose
Searched
Posts: 28
|
Post by Rose on Apr 24, 2008 14:41:14 GMT -5
Lienau/L'nau
Lienau watched as the little Brown surveyed the candidates, and he could tell the exact moment when the hatchling spotted his lifemate. The Brown ran across the sands, practically frantic to get to his rider, and it took Lienau a moment to realize exactly where he was headed.
By that time, it was too late to move as the Brown reached out, hooking a claw into his robe. As the dragonet fell, he pulled Lienau with him. He flailed, trying not to fall, but it was no use. He tumbled down onto the hot sands, wincing as his hands hit the sand. He could hear a loud rip, and his robe tore as the hatchling fell backwards.
"Ow..." Lienau began, but in the next instant his slight pain vanished under a wave of mixed emotions. He had never felt so happy, so complete, in his life, but that was intermingled with an awful sense of pain that was not his own. A lovely voice filtered through his thoughts. L'nau mine, L'nau mine, your Varaneth hurts, but at least I found you![/color]
L'nau smiled, finding it difficult to do much else for the moment, and got to his feet before quickly helping Varaneth right himself. "I'm glad you found me, too, Varaneth," He said breathlessly, scratching his lifemate's eyes reassuringly, overwhelmed by the love and acceptance he felt.
Feed me, please?[/color] Came the request, and L'nau had to laugh at the plaintive question. "Of course, Varaneth," L'nau answered, carefully guiding the clumsy hatchling off the sands and stopping him from tripping over himself more than once.
|
|
Minji
Archivist
Posts: 68
|
Post by Minji on Apr 24, 2008 19:39:03 GMT -5
More Impressions were made between the hatching dragons and the candidates. Unfortunate for Minji, she was not ablto to physically see each Impressions as she was more focused on looking at the dragonling's true colors. Some were turning out to be quite dark as they hatched, but it was probably due to the fact that whichever parent, be that the true mother of the clutch or the sire, was obviously dark in color. It was either that theory, or the dragonlings were just dark by some gene that just caused them to be that way even if both parents were light. No matter, Minji did quite find them to be intriguing.
So it can that the green and bronze were upon the sands, and it was by chance that after the previous dragons had Impressed. When Minji saw that the green seemed to have been slightly peeved by something the bronze did, or so this was what Minji thought, she ssimply clucked her tongue softly, her hands becoming folded across her chest as she shifted her weight upon her left foot. To come to think of herself for the moment, she was felting quite hot, and her feet felt as if they were forming blisters right now as she stood and thought. But knowing better then to complain, Minji shifted her attention back to the happenings of the hatching cavern. It was still quite morning time and there were six eggs that have hatched, two of which were still roaming the grounds. That only left twelve eggs to go.
As Minji shifted her weight to her other leg, she felt, and yes, she admits to it, rather impatient. But Minji knew better. She had felt rather impatient qhile she drew something. Sometimes she never quite finished a sketching that should've been done within minutes, sometimes hours, but it would take her a whole day. It was just frustrating to her as to why it sometimes took her a long time, but the end results were, much to her own surprise, rather very impressive. The thoughts of comparing this hatching was something to the same effect. If she waited long enough, even though she wanted it to be finished quickly, but taking enough time, the end results would be everything that could never have been done if it were rushed. Be that it, Minji quite confidently nodded quietly to herself as she slid her arms to her side, her weight shifting evenly to both feet as she watched the green and bronze still on the sands. Hopefully the two will not fight and instead, find Theirs.
|
|
Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
|
Post by Symphony on Apr 25, 2008 7:06:57 GMT -5
The Ringed Bronze and the Mist Green continued to stare each other down, the much larger bronze's eyes whirling a dangerous shade of red; a warning. His wings spread and he growled low in his throat, the movements meant to make him appear more imposing, more intimidating, and it worked well enough that the green took a step back. She did not immediately run away, though; she was not a creature so easily spooked and she would not be bullied by anyone. The bronze flared his wings again and haunched back, his size undeniable, and then he made to move forward when --
A flash of gold. Ariannalyth's tail. The hatchlings both jumped back in surprise, squawking. Both were oblivious to the sounds of the Smudged Egg beginning to crack, for the queen had moved far too quickly for either of them to react. The little green gave a startled, shrill squawk before finally backing down completely, though she made a point of looking up at the large queen as she did so - as if to say that she was backing away not from her bronze clutchbrother but from the Senior Queen. Her head held high, the young green moved across the Sands, being watched by both the gold and the bronze who still lingered. Her gaze flicked over the candidates who remained before she approached the person of her choosing, her eyes whirling a myriad of rainbows. The large green walked with a surprising grace, all fine angles and beauty, no doubt she'd be a looker when she was fully grown and attract the attentions of blues, browns, and even bronzes. She trilled low in her throat, the sound more like a firelizard than a dragon, save for the intensity of the noise.
Oh, don't worry about him, Minjimine. Your Laylath is not afraid of him. The green's 'voice' was soft, more like a whisper on the air, and with an undeniable strength, subtle though it was. Her eyes whirled with love indefinable by words and she rubbed her body against Minji's in what was almost a feline show of affection. Will you feed me? I'm very hungry.
The Ringed Bronze snorted at his clutch sister before turning his gaze toward the candidates. He leaned down some, as if to get a better look, and then moved across the sands with the ease of a hunter stalking his prey. Up to a group he walked, and some scurried out of the way, but Tiramnet would not be so lucky; the young bronze literally bowled her over, his claws digging into her arms (though, surprisingly, he was careful not to tear up her stomach or chest) as he tried to climb over her. Unfortunately for him, his claws got caught in the hem of her robe, and he yanked back trying to free himself. The cloth tore, and the bronze creeled piteously, drowning out the sound of the Smudged Egg hatching completely.
What was revealed in the shattered shells of the Smudged Egg was nothing more nor less than a mingling of varying shades of blue, from cerulean to the undeniable white-blue of his muzzle. He crooned quietly and looked around, but his eyes did not appear to have color at all; in fact, they seemed to stay a muted cerulean blue like his hide. Large were his eyes and he undeniably looked very innocent as he daintily stepped out of his shell. His gaze flicked around before he moved forward, across the Sands, toward his lifemate - when at last he spied none other than Amir. Amirmine! Amirmine! Faronth is here! he called out before barreling toward her, to the agitated squawking of his bronze clutchmate. Obviously his excitement irritated the bronze.
[ I'm not sure that Shrimp will be back but I'm hoping she will and for that reason I'm posting Amir's impression. ^^;; ]
|
|
Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
|
Post by Symphony on Apr 25, 2008 7:07:50 GMT -5
Green Laylath Name: Laylath Pronunciation: LAY lahth Age: Hatchling Color: Green Egg: Mist Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: Gold Freseath & Bronze Ruinith
Looks To: Minji Physical Description: Fine angles, fine lines, delicate muscle structure, the promise of grace, stealth and predatory speed: this is Laylath in a nut shell, even at hatching. Her features are elegantly proportioned, from the wide span of her wings with delicate-looking (but decidedly powerful) bones to the slender arch of her neck, her eyes which are a touch wider than the average dragon's though not unattractively, and finishing at her curling, slender tail. She is all feminine grace, and each movement highlights her nature as a hunter. Even on the ground she possesses more dignity than most of her color, and her wingspan alludes to her being large when she is fully grown - perhaps the size of a medium-sized blue. While this will rob her of some of the speed that her color is known for, it will grant her more stamina than most greens, as she will be able to glide more efficiently. Even at hatching, there can be no denying that she is a magnificent creature, and anyone foolish enough to question it need only take a glance at the wickedly sharp claws she possesses to know that they should shut their mouths. If green goldstone could be spun out into hide, it would probably resemble Laylath's coloring. She is a deep, dark green, but there are flecks of lighter shades common enough on her hide to give her an almost lime-green (or perhaps light gold?) shine, breaking up the shadows of her natural shading. The color is pure and rich and spans from the tip of her snout to the end of her tail, unbroken save for those lighter touches, which vaguely resemble needlepoint stars. Someone inquisitive enough might even be able to find constellations in her hide - or perhaps that is merely people superimposing what they wish to see? Regardless, there is absolutely nothing about this green that blends in to a crowd - she stands alone. Personality: Distant. Aloof. Laylath is a dragon who does not appear to have much interest in the world around her, as if she knows her own worth and does not feel inclined to prove herself to anyone - least of all the casual viewer. She takes great pride in herself. Oh, it is true she knows she is a green - but this green also knows that it is her color who are the fastest dragons on Pern, her color who can maneuver and twist and turn to outshine any bronze in falling Thread, and she is proud of that fact. A creature of balance, she treats others distantly, though not cold in the least and people who are kind and respectful to her will receive much the same treatment. She is the kind of dragon who will spend much of her time alone, confident and composed, and she possesses an almost supernatural grace, particularly in the air. Loops and turns come exceptionally easy to her. The air is her playground and she lives to explore it all. Some dragons are flirtatious but Laylath is not one such creature. Except when she is close to flight, Laylath wants little to do with males and treats them with the same distance a queen might. She does not mistake herself for a gold, but it wouldn't be hard for someone else to, with her regal disposition. She does not bespeak anyone - not even the lucky few who can speak to all dragons - except for Hers and when she addresses other dragons, she is usually extremely formal, even among those she does know well. She has a talent for biting words and if eloquence was a dragon, Laylath would be that creature. Never let anyone doubt she is exceptional. She may not be a gold, but Laylath knows her place: and in the sky, all dragons have their purpose, and none are worth more than the others. Just because she's a green doesn't mean she should be underestimated.
Blue Faronth
Name:Faronth Pronunciation: (FAR ownth) Age: Hatchling Color: blue Egg: Smudged Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: out of gold Freseath & bronze Ruinith
Looks to: Amir Description: The first thing that catches the eye with this dragon is the color. Pure cerulean blue, this dragon is a fantastic hue of the color blue. A rippled streak of near-white runs from tailtips to his face. Faronth’s muzzle is almost entirely white-blue, with one eye completely surrounded with the same brilliant hue, and the other surrounded by the cerulean shade of the rest of his body. All of his toes are white-blue, though only on his rear right leg does the pale color continue up his leg, and then only along the back of it. His back-ridge is quite beautiful, with each spine being white-blue at the base, with some turning blue at the tips, and others remaining pure colored from base to tip. About a third of his left wing is a similar color, though a little bluer, mostly at the tips. Only the very tip of his right wing is similarly marked, which can give him quite an unbalanced look in the sky against the clouds. Interestingly, his eyes tend to have little mixture of color and very little of the “whirling” typical of other dragons. While in most this could be considered a sign of disinterest or even boredom, with Faronth it is because he enjoys controlling what his eyes look like, by the emotion he displays. Even shortly after Hatching, he will work to keep his eyes the exact shade of blue of his hide, which can be faintly unnerving when looking at him, for one eye seems to vanish, while the other becomes little more than a spot in the white-blue of his masked face. Large in his fine-boned face, Faronth’s eyes are always innocent, like those of a baby animal. His face tapers to a slim muzzle and a rounded nose, with almost perfectly round nostrils all-too-willing to flare wide in excitement. Unfortunately for this lovely creature, Faronth has a bit of hay-fever, and spring will ever be a misery, with clear mucus running from his nose and a constantly itchy throat. If not watched, Faronth will scratch himself bloody without knowing it, and it won’t be surprising if he gains silvery scars on his neck from the annoyance of pollen to his trachea, soothed with talons. A rather large dragon, Faronth rivals some browns for size, with an immense wingspan and broad-chested bulk that belie his delicate appearance. An amusingly deep voice accompanies the powerful frame of this blue dragon, one which knows only two volumes: silence, and bellowing. Faronth won’t even realize he’s deafening people when he does everything from croon (more like attack with a subwoofer) to bugle (think a trumpet fanfare directly to the eardrum), for he doesn’t have the best of hearing, and may find human voices infuriatingly quiet, like the soft susurrus of wind through the grasses. In other words, impossible to understand! Though very slender at Hatching, Faronth will quickly bulk up, though if he’s not careful, he’ll over-build muscles to the point of discomfort, and have to work on other sets of muscles. This dragon is never going to be able to stop running, climbing, or swimming, having to keep all of his muscles on par with those he uses for flying! Personality: Faronth doesn’t understand the way the world works. At all. Ever. Completely convinced that every human being, dragon, vtol bug, tunnelsnake, and firelizard (and etc etc) is a completely selfless, forgiving creature who hates to do mean things, Faronth will be continually surprised when any living thing is cruel or malicious, or breaks a single rule. Never one to break or even bend the rule, he will be a perfectly behaved dragon, with no fault in his actions. However, this obedience can make his too hide-bound when unusual circumstances arise, and conflicting orders will send him into a panic as he tries to understand how the rules are supposed to work together. It is all-too-easy to take advantage of this naive dragon’s good will, as he will happily do any chore that doesn’t directly run counter to a rule or order he already knows. And no matter how mean someone is to him, he’ll immediately forgive them, assuming it was a mistake and that they didn’t actually mean to do bad things. In fact, it will take an incredible amount of time for Faronth to even entertain the idea that someone is a bad person, even if they are clearly evil. Puppyish and playful, this blue is convinced that everyone and everything wants to be his friend. Perfectly willing to play with rocks, or drag Candidates around as his ‘pets,’ Faronth will never be happy with being alone. Incredibly social, he will chat with everyone, regardless of whether they actually want to talk to him or not. Everyone is his permanent best friend, and he will never understand if people don’t get along with him. Willing to chat with ordinary humans, as well as anything that moves (or doesn’t), Faronth is quite possibly the most social dragon in the Weyr. Oddly enough, he is convinced that rocks are people, too, and will always ask permission of rocks before landing on them, perching on them, or even climbing on them. Indeed, he will hold perfectly salient conversations with rocks and proceed to think you insane if you question their sentience. Who knows, perhaps he has a private line on the psychic wavelengths of rocks! Luckily for Faronth, his oddity about rocks will prevent him from getting serious internal damage, for this blue is certain that everything is edible, or at least willing to give everything a chance. Or two. Or three. In particular he will become fairly addicted to klahbark trees, literally gnawing on logs of the tree if he can find them in the forest, and sneaking bites on the trees near the Weyr, the only rule he can’t seem to help breaking. And as “don’t eat anything but meat” is sure to be misinterpreted into “I can only eat actual meat, not bones or hide or viscera or... etc etc”, items will have to slowly be added to the list of “Don’t eat this: ____.” No doubt there will be many sleepless nights as a young dragon, nursing Faronth through another bout of stomach-ache. Not only that, but you are sure to lose things to between and digestion! Of course, he’ll be instantly sorry, so make sure to console him...
|
|
|
Post by tarra on Apr 25, 2008 11:20:27 GMT -5
Tsarkor had little time to wallow. The rising fears and the self-pity that trailed it were swallowed up as a green and a bronze hatched, catching the youth with an intake of breath. The green was so beautiful: elegant and deadly, almost, in her predatory grace. And the bronze, the first one of the Hatching, was a sight to match her, powerful, a promise of magnificence when grown. He sighed, softly, longingly, and hoped indeed that his lifemate might be within this clutch.
The wonder was short-lived, however. The boy watched, incredulous, as the pair began to face off, the aggression in their stancing undeniable. He recalled to mind a summer's day, not three turns ago, when the herders had accidentally released a young bull into a field owned by a senior male, grazing with his cows. The tension that edged the crowd, tinging his teeth and prickling the hair on his neck, was not unlike how he had felt that day, watching the beastcrafters run to seperate the raging pair of bulls. As it had back then, electric adrenaline ran down his arms and chest into his legs, tingling. His tongue tasted strange in his mouth. His breath came fast and his legs moved, almost without thought, into a brace.
His mind, however, could barely comprehend it. The bronze growled, eyes whirling red, and Tsarkor felt fresh beads of sweat trickle his forehead. This could not be happening. Dragons were not herdbeasts! They were intelligent, sharp, and infinitely a higher order of creature altogether. Surely they would not fight wantonly, and certainly not when they had not even found a lifemate yet!
A flash of golden. The pair pulled apart, squaking, and Tsarkor let out the breath he hadn't known he had been holding. The candidate indicated a nod to the Senior Queen, grateful even though he knew she probably would not see him. Half his mind still could not accept that the dragonets would really have fought; the other half asserted that he was still new to dragons, and knew too little to say anything for certain. He watched as the green stalked across the sands, and made her choice. He let his eyes linger, quietly, on the pair a moment before turning back to the bronze.
The bronze was headed straight for his group. Tsarkor had barely a moment to comprehend it before the candidates around him scattered, none willing to face the dragonet who had so nearly fallen to tearing up his smaller clutch-sister. A larger boy bowled into him, knocking him sideways, stumbling. Which was just as well, for in the next moment the bronze had barrelled straight into a girl, and was climbing right over her.
Tsarkor caught himself in horror, hazy brown eyes flickering. For a moment another scene flashed before his eyes: two runners fighting, bucking and biting and squealing. And beneath them lay a small girl caught, curled and trying to protect herself from the trampling hooves. His own cousin. She had left that accident with a broken leg and a gash that would scar her arm for life. He tried not to think of what a dragon might leave its victim with. He had heard of gorings, had sat around flickering campfires at night listening to the tales they told of Hatchings, and the things dragonets could do to unwary candidates. It was hard to believe dragonets would fight one another delibrately, but it was entirely plausible that they might kill or maim the very ones who sought to be their lifemates. That, at least, was how Tsarkor saw it.
He stood, rooted, as the bronze caught its claws in the girl's robe hem. Again the tingling adrenaline was running through his limbs, his breath came in sharp gasps, and the whole world seemed to be awfully clear, its every detail distinct, sharp. His eyes were on the girl beneath the dragonet. He had seen her around, recent arrival though he was, couldn't quite recall what made her so familiar...
All at once he knew: she was the girl who owned the hawks, the splendid avians he had admired from the first time he saw her handle them, an accidental glance while running an errand. He remembered the respect that had flooded him for her abilities with the sharp-eyed birds. The horror that had filled him translated into anger. He set eyes to the dragonet, body moving naturally into a crouch. Tsarkor was not fool, he knew the worth of a distance well-kept from a raging herdbeast, but that did not mean he would stand to allow a mauling he could prevent. A dragonet was no herdbeast, a dragonet could rip him limb for limb. But if he kept away from the claws, stayed along the ribs and flank...
The sight of his small cousin flashed back before his eyes, the look of terror in her eyes. Tsarkor stepped sideways, lining up to the dragonet's side, and then closed in one fast, fluid push-off on his crouched legs. The bronze caught its claws in Tiramnet's hem and tore back, creeling. The sound nearly deafened him, and he cringed, but did not stop.
He collided bodily against the bronze's side at the moment it tore back. Not much a single boy, a youth, could do against a bronze dragonet - but the momentum of that collision, timed for the point when the bronze pulled back, might have the desired effect. He had no desire to hurt the bronze, only to push him off and away from Tiramnet, or perhaps create an opening for another to snatch the girl away. Faronth's impression to Amir was completely lost on Tsarkor. In a moment he would be reeling away, trying to keep a safe space between himself and the Ringed Bronze...
|
|
Rose
Searched
Posts: 28
|
Post by Rose on Apr 25, 2008 15:13:39 GMT -5
Fariel tensed as the green and bronze faced off, her lighthearted mood darkening as she waited to see if they would fight. She had heard that dragon must not fight dragon, but hatchlings were more volatile and might not follow those rules. Surely the bronze would attack the green...and then Ariannalyth's tail shot out, separating the two. Fariel let out a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding, relieved that there would be no fighting. The green impressed almost immediately, and the bronze marched off to find his rider. As he careened toward them, she dove out of the way, feeling only the brush of a wing as he passed.
The trouble was far from over, though. Fariel let out a squeal of horror as the bronze crashed into Tiranmet, clawing her arms. That was bad enough, but then he got stuck in her robe and couldn't even move away. She winced in sympathy for her fellow candidate. The scratches seemed serious, and the weight of a bronze hatchling could be enough to crush bones. She wanted to help, but wasn't sure what to do.
Then one of the boy candidates jumped out of the line and barreled into the bronze. Fariel's eyes widened in frightened admiration, but she didn't let herself stay still for long. Taking the few moments that the other candidate's disturbance would allow, she rushed forward and grabbed Tiranmet by the shoulders, jerking her out from under the bronze and tearing the robe away from his claws in the process.
|
|
Minji
Archivist
Posts: 68
|
Post by Minji on Apr 25, 2008 17:05:49 GMT -5
The two dragonlings were not giving in, and even though the green did take a step back because of its bronze brother, the green refused to be put down in such a demeanor. It was, much to Minji's great relief that the gold Ariannalyth intervened the two with her tail flicking between them that the green turned tail, but giving the look of not backing because of its larger bronze sibling, but because of the gold herself.
With the gold ending the small feud going betwen green and bronze, Minji was quite surprised by the green's agile grace on the sands that its other siblings seemed to lack thereof. When a series of rainbow colors filled the green's faceted eyes, and only then did Minji take notice that the green was heading toward the females, followed with a low trill.
Oh, don't worry about him, Minjimine. Your Laylath is not afraid of him.
When the candidate heard the soft voice of the green, as well as to the fact that the green was rubbing its own against hers, did the candidate no longer though that she was hearing random voices. Though this one was not the ones one would hear when they went crazy, but it was a something she could not explain that seemed to feel a 'missing' part of her she never knew was even empty.
Will you feed me? I'm very hungry.
For a few seconds, Minji just stood planted firmly while the green still rubbed against her before the candidate snapped back to reality. When she gazed at the green, a smile lighted her usually cheery face and she placed her right hand upon the green's triangular head before letting it glide down the angularity of Laylath's neck. As Minji's hand stopped at the base of the green's neck to the start of its should, Minji looked at the green that named herself to be Laylath and nodded, and tear of joy sliding down from one of her eyes and sliding down her cheek, only to be dried up from the intense heat of the sands.
"Laylath, you are the only one I will ever worry about.."
Minji nodded again, as if to confirm her words before taking a step toward the entrance of where she would feed her starving Laylath. There would be absolutely nothing that would allow Minji to neglect the darling green.
"Come, let us go and get that stomach of yours filled."
It was with the last words that the green, Laylath, rumbled and followed gracefully beside Minji. Giving only a glance backwards to see that the bronze had caught himself up with a female. Thankfully she had chosen Hers before that bumbling brother of a bronze harmed Minji.
|
|
|
Post by Neeuqtar on Apr 25, 2008 20:43:59 GMT -5
Bronze and green, kept from warring by the mother. Tira stopped bothering to try and keep them in her distance-perception; the green found Hers quickly enough and bronzes only cared about boys. So it was with a good amount of shock that she suddenly found herself with the bronze atop her, talons hooking into her arm. Tiramnet hissed at him, furious, and snapped her teeth at him, clicking them together audibly. Most animals hated the sound, and whether it had the intended affect or not didn't matter as the dragon quickly realized what he was doing and started getting off, only to have his talons tangled in her fabric.
Exasperated and bleeding, with Tiny trying to claw her way into a better hiding place, Tira reached out to free the infuriating beast from herself when a Candidate slammed into the bronze. The cloth of her robe ripped away, and the young woman was about to lash into the boy for being an idiot--didn't he know he could have severely damaged the young bronze's talons?!--when another of the white-robed spectators grabbed her and tried to drag her away. Tira's fury found a new mark.
She slapped away Fariel's hand, snarling, and got up herself, standing near the dragon, her head weaving in the peculiar way which gave her any sort of depth perception, ruby eyes hard with anger. "Don't touch me," she hissed at the girl, as Tiny huddled tight against her sternum, clearly terrified, though she managed to chatter angrily at Fariel through Tira's shirt, for the robe's sleeve and half the chest had been torn off. "And you!" she tagged on, whirling towards Tsarkor. "He's a baby! You do not slam into a baby raptor, no matter what they are doing! You could have torn his talons out," she snarled, blood dripping down her arms from the mostly-superficial wounds the bronze had left.
Tira turned her red gaze to the bronze dragon, anger still in her eyes, though for him and not at him. The remains of her bloodied robe (half, anyways) were locked in his talons, and Tira sighed, the tension going out of her shoulders. She completely ignored both Fariel and Tsarkor--if she looked at them, she might ignore the rules of the Hatching Sands and just punch them--and ignored her wounds. They were already stopping bleeding, except for two particularly deep punctures on her left arm. "You, bronze. Stand still and I'll free you. Savage me and I will have no problem pinching your nose shut until you behave. Then you can find Yours. Deal?" Her voice was clipped from emotion and pain, but the fury it had held for Fariel and Tsarkor was gone. Tira waited for a reaction, hands on her hips, as her blood congealed on her arms.
She would need a bath badly after this.
|
|
|
Post by tarra on Apr 26, 2008 2:48:28 GMT -5
Tsarkor stumbled back, trying not to trip on the sands, doing all he might to place a safe distance between himself and the bronze dragonet he might have just angered into attacking him instead. Blast the white robe: its long hems were causing him to trip more than he should. His mind was flying, swifting through everything he had ever heard about dragons for a proper response to the offense he might have caused. A dragon was not a herdbeast, a dragon was a higher order creature, and had to be treated accordingly. Pausing, he bowed, once, eyes always on the Ringed Bronze, wary for a backlash.
"My apologies, masterful one. I just did not want you to harm her."
He keep his eyes, wide and wary, on the dragonet, noting only peripherally that another candidate had darted in to try and pull Tiranmet away. Dimly, he heard the girl hiss something at Fariel, and then his hazy brown orbs flicked to her as she snarled at him.
"And you! He's a baby! You do not slam into a baby raptor, no matter what they are doing! You could have torn his talons out."
Taken aback, Tsarkor's attention was diverted for that instant. The sight of his cousin flashed before him once more, and suddenly he smiled, broad and grinning, almost a laugh. No, of course, how could he have been so mistaken? A girl who tamed hawks would not be one so easily frightened by a dragon's claws. No matter, of course, that Fariel and he might just have saved her from a terrible mauling, and her sense of gratitude was non-existent; that knowledge clicked in him, and was buried under a sense of rising admiration. He ought to have been offended, but he wasn't. He couldn't find it in himself to be, in the face of her fearlessness.
Tsarkor backed off, not bothering to answer her, his gaze back on the Ringed Bronze once more. Whatever more Tira wished to say to him, she could say it later, and he would fire his own retort, just for the fun of hearing her responses. He held his ground as she addressed the bronze.
"You, bronze. Stand still and I'll free you. Savage me and I will have no problem pinching your nose shut until you behave. Then you can find Yours. Deal?"
The boy's eyes flicked to Tira a brief instant, once again taken aback by her language, her stance, her unwavering confrontation of the much larger dragonet. Something glinted in his hazy-brown eyes. For a moment they seemed almost sharp, clear and distinct. Then the haze had settled in again, and he turned back to the Ringed Bronze.
The thought that he might have damaged the bronze's claws already lay, discarded, in some corner of his mind. The Ringed Bronze had, minutes earlier, been threatening to rip up his smaller sister with those same claws. The boy doubted that ripping cloth could do any more damage than might have been done then. He knew nothing of raptors, but he knew enough of large creatures to know that they, and their implements, were not delicate by nature. Even a new-born runner was dropped with the strength to stand up on its own four feet within fifteen minutes. And a young herdbeast could often take a lot more rough handling than most people thought. Nor did he see what raptors had to do with dragons, for that matter. Avians and reptiles...that was quite a divide, almost as great as herdbeasts and dragons. He could have laughed, but the situation mutted the humour.
Tsarkor watched girl and bronze facing each other, still wary. Tira's robe was almost in tatters; perhaps he could give her his later, to save her any further embarressment. He pushed the thought lazily aside, muscles again ready to fly if anything else would occur.
|
|
Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
|
Post by Symphony on Apr 27, 2008 0:38:27 GMT -5
Footsteps. People approaching from behind. Liyanna rose and turned to look over her shoulder to spot a pair of individuals, one with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail; female. The other was tall, slender, built bird-like and clearly the elder of the pair, with dusty brown hair and stern eyes; male. Both were strangers and in the seclusion of Sanctum, strangers didn't exist. Everyone had met everyone at least once. Her head tilted to the side and --
He is a bronzerider. She is a bluerider. Both have just arrived, the drudges lead them to you. From? Yukasth's has returned. They found him.
The foreboding feeling in the back of Liyanna's mind heightened and she smiled, pleasantly enough, though something told her that she was going to regret it. She would not make a scene in the middle of the Hatching, but the presence of strangers at the Weyr was unwelcome. She hadn't invited them and they'd come, apparently with Yn're. She hadn't seen him in over a sevenday. Which meant that Yukasth rose in the north and her request for him to acquire information in regards to the northern Weyrs was likely interrupted quite badly. Having the tables turned on her was not a pleasant feeling in the least, and they were interrupting a Hatching she hadn't invited them to attend. Shards.
What was going on --? Sounds from the Sands made her turn, though out of the corner of her eye she spied a group of four people in strange clothing also moving into the Stands, presumably to watch. More northerners? No answer came from Ariannalyth, as she was busy stopping a green hatchling and a bronze hatchling from killing one another. Then the green filtered off, and another egg began to hatch, the crisis averted... for the moment. At least, the crisis on the Sands. The one in her part of the Stands was another story.
"Weyrwoman Liyanna," the man said with a light bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you at last."
"Is it. I'm afraid I don't know your name...?"
"V'lren of Bronze Eorenath, Wingleader. From High Reaches Weyr."
* * *
The Ringed Bronze pulled at his claws, trying to free himself from Tira's shirt. Loudly he creeled, making his protest at being caught known, when suddenly a force hit him in the side with enough strength that he had to flare his wings to avoid falling. His claws jerked backwards, tearing up the girl's robe in the process as she was pulled away from him, and the hatchling reeled, confusion showing on his face. Behind him he could hear growling, no doubt the foreboding warning from Ariannalyth, but his gaze shifted to Tiramnet measuringly, as if to decide what he thought of her. Perhaps he would have even liked her, were circumstances different; but the boy who slammed into him was talking and the bronze turned back to him, his eyes whirling.
Why would I hurt you, S'kormine? I did not mean to harm her, she was in my way to you. Please free me, I'm starving. If he had any remorse for having hurt the girl, it most definitely did not show in the young bronze's 'voice' as he turned to his chosen. But why would he feel bad? She'd been in his way, not the other way around, and she wasn't even grateful that His (He'd chosen S'kor solely because he'd been bold enough to dare try to stop him when no one else would have, the cowards! As if they were worthy of him!) had risked injuring them both to help her. Hmph, well, that wasn't his problem. He had His and that was all that mattered. Well, that and getting the torn up robe from beneath his claws, as they remained tattered and trapped in a way that even he, gifted as he was, simply could not remove them. And why are you calling me 'bronze'? My name is Morreliath. Didn't you know that?
Behind him, the Scratched Egg and the Blurry Egg hatched simultaneously, spilling two blues. The first was tiny and very pale, nearly white in color, save for bright cerulean rings around his eyes. The second was a grayish, steel-blue that was pure and unmarred. Both dragons looked at each other before crooning with undeniable affection, even going so far as to nudge one another. Then, together, they moved toward the group of candidates. Rather than stop at anyone and separate though, both dragons came to a halt near the back of the group and -- stayed there, or so it seemed for a few long minutes. Then, two of the four that had walked into the Stands, dressed in clothing very different from the South (for they wore much heavier clothing, and strangely darker colours), came down and stopped in front of the two dragons. The two blues had chosen people from the Stands over the candidates...
|
|
Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
|
Post by Symphony on Apr 27, 2008 0:42:01 GMT -5
Bronze Morreliath Name: Morreliath Pronunciation: MOR rel AYE ahth Age: Hatchling Color: Bronze Egg: Ringed Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: Gold Freseath & Bronze Ruinith Looks To: Tsarkor - S'kor Physical Description: Let it be known that this dragon will never be small. From the wide, impressive spread of his wings (which will drag the ground at hatching and he will likely trip over them for a good amount of time until he learns to walk), to the long spread of his tail, the slender arch of his neck, Morreliath is a large bronze. Even at hatching he is the second largest dragon in his clutch, and he is considerably more bulky than the rest. He is built strong and muscular, for stamina and strength rather than speed and agility, and it shows with every movement. Learning the quick twists and turns that come naturally to smaller dragons will be difficult for him, but in the sky Morreliath's stamina will be unmatched; he will be one of the longest lasting threadfighters that Sanctum has ever seen, and with practice he will be just as quick in the air. His great size will be something of a hindrance for him, and it will cause him to work more than others, but there will be no questioning his authority - even as a hatchling he is intimidating to look at in size, especially considering the air of authority he holds himself with. His color is almost as impressive as his size. He possesses a rich, fine bronze hue, with almost olive highlights. Light bronze would be the best color description of him and someone who was not completely familiar with the difference might mistake him for a strangely colored gold. His coloring is rich, pure and perfectly balanced, as though some invisible force rolled him in bronze paint from snout to tail, covering his entire hide evenly. Coupled with the elegant metallic sheen that shows whenever light dances across his body, there can be no denying that Morreliath is the picture of what bronzes are often expected to be. Personality: One touch of the Ringed Egg would reveal a dragon with an utter lack of interest in the world surrounding it -- and Morreliath is no different after breaking shell. He possesses an almost unnatural calm, like the eye of the storm, and a detached lack of interest in the things happening around him based entirely on his somewhat arrogant outlook. He is superior to all save a very select few, and why should he even bother with those who are beneath him? However, this arrogance is not completely unfounded. For a dragon, Morreliath has an exceptional memory, and he is extraordinarily intelligent. Making quick decisions, particularly under pressure, is one of his specialties. He is a natural leader as all of his color are, but unlike some, Morreliath has the composure and intellect to be a good leader; while he will never be as social as many dragons (though this will not stop him from likely talking his rider's ear off, metaphorically speaking, as he is not above voicing his opinions privately to the one person who has always been his equal), he will definitely be remembered by the few he deigns to talk to. Unfortunately, Morreliath is a judgmental dragon, and this will be to his detriment for a long time. His rider will have to teach him that not everything is as it seems, and learning to give others a chance may be to his benefit. He also possesses a stubborn "I am always right" streak which may make him impossible to deal with for a time. He does, however, respect people who have earned it (and his rider falls under this category by default) and will make an active effort to try to listen. He simply finds it harder to change his opinion once his mind is made up than most dragons do, as he usually remembers what it is that caused him to make such harsh judgments in the first place. He's also surprisingly adept at noticing the truth about people very quickly, even those who are good at hiding emotions. For better or worse, Morreliath is very observant. Life with him is likely to never be a bore. Scratched Egg Blue Ladrith to Journeyman Harper R'fael of High Reaches Weyr - NPC Plot CharBlurry Egg Blue Blyddeth to Journeywoman Healer Omaera - NPC Plot Char[ Once the hatching is over, there will be an announcement about the plot chars, for anyone who wishes to adopt them. I'll explain everything there. For now just bear with me. Heh. ]
|
|
|
Post by tarra on Apr 27, 2008 10:16:00 GMT -5
Tarra The greenrider heard the stir behind her, and turned half-heartedly to see what the matter was. Her attention was still partly with the scene on the Hatching Sands, where a bronze dragonet had knocked down a girl, and then been knocked part off her by another candidate, a boy, and then...
The thoughts dissolved as she set eye on the newcomers. Strangers, and strangely dressed. That rang an alarm bell straight off. Those thick clothes were completely out of place in the mild climate of Sanctum - nor had she ever seen their like before. Tarra stared, her mind moving. Or, perhaps she had seen those clothes before, just not here.
Frowning, the greenrider turned to look up at Liyanna to see if she had noticed. But the Weyrwoman was addressing two other people at the moment, both dressed just as the strangers in the crowded Stands were gabbed. Her frown deepened, and translated slowly into an almost frightened gulp as she watched the two new-hatched blues march to the edge of the crowd
High on the ledges, Suftath sensed her rider's fear and looked downwards, eyes whirling concern. Mine?
Love, who are they?
Strangers, She cast about the minds of other dragons, seeking the information, From the north I think.
Tarra gulped again, trying not to consider the implications of having strangers at Sanctum. Kalliyar flashed before her mind, small and cute and frail. Like Liyanna she did not want to interrupt the Hatching, but as soon as it was over she would be fleeing down to the Creche to find her son.
~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~
S'kor Tsarkor, watched the Ringed Bronze sweep its measuring gaze over the girl before it. Tira might have been bold to the point of being foolish, confonting a bronze directly, but Tsarkor had run into too many herdbeasts to do the same. He was perfectly certain she would have Impressed one herself, in fact, if she had been a boy. He gulped as the great beast swung its maw to encompass him as well, the faceted eyes whirling. He was still tensed for a quick run: a dodge and then a run.
Why would I hurt you, S'kormine? I did not mean to harm her, she was in my way to you. Please free me, I'm starving.
The boy froze where he was, comprehending suddenly and abruptly the alien sense of weight, of presence settling over his shoulders, over his thoughts, inserting itself into his mind like a...like a...
Words failed him utterly, standing speechless before the massive bronze regarding him with its cool-eyed gaze. Already the tendrils of alien comprehension and recognition were filtering into his inmost thoughts, tickling his spheres of emotions, pulling at his nerves and senses, making him completely aware of...
...hunger. A great roaring hunger as vast as the sea, as thunderous as a lightning storm. The boy jerked back, reeling as the full implications of what had just happened slammed into him and left him stunned and stumbling. He had Impressed. And to none other than the bronze that he had been willing to fight just moments before, to defend a seemingly helpless person. He blinked, gulped air, gropped to settle his flying emotions which seemed to be seething everywhere (hugged in the grip of a terrible hunger), and heard the alien, distinct coolness in his mind again.
And why are you calling me 'bronze'? My name is Morreliath. Didn't you know that?
S'kor laughed, his mind and emotions already bending to accommodate the new name and the new identity that came with it. S'kor and Morreliath, dragon and human: one mind, one flesh. He had been S'kor all his life, he just hadn't known it till this moment. Already the old name and the old associations were rapidly fading away in the bright coolness of his new lifemate. To the boy, nothing else existed at that minute: not the commotion in the Stands, nor the hatching of two blues who moved rapidly to the edge of the crowd, nor the odd strangers who came down to meet them. He bowed again, to the dragonet, and smiled.
"Of course, Morreliath, forgive me. Come, I'll help you with that."
The dragonet crooned softly as he walked up fearlessly, clumbered on hands and knees over the cruel curved talons, broad and callused hands finding the notches of the tattered cloth and puling them off gently. S'kor caught the edge of a particularly large piece on the right index claw, and as naturally as thought his mind found words for his lifemate.
Here, lift this one a moment.[/i]
The bonze obliged, and S'kor ripped out the final piece with a small exertion. He paused, hazy-brown eyes scanning the talons for any sign of damage, and a small puff of relief left his lips as he realized there was none. He still didn't quite believe Tira about the talon-damage, but he would take no chances with his lifemate. Speaking of which...he looked around for the albino girl. Behind him, Morreliath bumped him lightly with his muzzle.
Mine, let us go. I'm hungry...
The wistfulness in his tone made the boy quiver, and he rubbed a hand gently along the long, arched neck. Just a moment...love. The word sounded strange to him. He had heard of riders calling their own dragons so, but it might take some getting used to. He scanned the crowd, found Tira, and approached her slowly.
"Morreliath says he didn't mean to harm you," he spoke softly, a tad uncertain, "And...thanks for the heads-up about the talons."
Turning quickly, he let himself go with his dragonet's hunger, striding back to the bronze with quick, wide steps. Come love, we go to feed that hunger.
Morreliath followed almost obediently, his bearing still regal and his eyes whirling curiosity as he glanced back at Tira, Mine, I don't think she will care...
Oh,and how would you know... S'kor stopped as he saw how the bronze's huge wings trailing alongside him. The sensation of grit against wingsails was...painful, rubbing. He looked back over his own shoulders, but saw no wings.
She didn't care for my anger. She's much smaller than me.
Well, maybe, the boy nodded toward the trailing wings. Try lifting them
Lifting? Confusion prickled across the boy's mind.
Aye, lift them up as you walk, so they don't hurt so.
...alright. The bronze dragonet hefted his wings across his back, the massive wingsails drawing a few gasps from the crowd. He took a few more steps towards his lifemate, the wings folded ungainly over his spine, Now, can we go?
S'kor laughed again, reaching out to caress the large muzzle fondly as he started again, leading the way to the other weyrlings, Of course. Forgive me, Morreliath, it's...my first time.
Well, it's mine too.
|
|
Minji
Archivist
Posts: 68
|
Post by Minji on Apr 27, 2008 15:29:06 GMT -5
An egg here and an egg there hatched, every so often one of the hatched dragonlings would Impress and another egg would hatch to reveal another egg. At the stand-off of two of the dragonlings, the green and bronze, Rhosyth was unconcerned as he knew that Ariannalyth would intervene between them. There was of no sense as to where the gold, be that a foster or the real dam, would prevent such a scene from getting out of hand.
Just as was expected, and by that point X'veir was getting somewhat worried for the fear of losing two good dragons, a flash of a golden tail came between the green and bronze. Rhosyth rumbled deep within his throat at the wise action of the gold while X'veir released a rather long breath of air. With the gold's tail splitting the two off, the green had taken to finding Hers, making it clear that she did not back down because of her bronze sibling, but because of the gold. A smart green she was, and both X'vier and Rhosyth knew better of it. Though, when the bronze went in search for his own Bonded, dragon and rider both saw the young bronzling barel into one of the females that was unfortunate to escape from his path.
Unfortunate from there, X'veir had looked to Rhosyth and rolled his eyes as he saw that his dragon was telling him to watch what was going on. A male from the males section was charging the bronze; shortly making contact with the bronze dragonling's body.
This was an outrage! Didn't the brat learn that was not the way to approach an angry dragon? Let alone one that was possibly getting a little unnerved by what was already going on? Save for the fact that the girl had freed herself and was now at the time, from X'veir's point of view, scolding the young male that had collided with the body of the bronze and another female who was offering a hand up. If nothing else, X'veir would save a few choice words for the lad himself when he saw him again.
When things settled a bit, the bronze dragonling had Impressed to the boy that had bravely risked his life for that of the young woman who was cut in some places by the previous accident. The bronzerider shook his head and folded his arms about his chest, leaning comfortably against the crook of his dragon's fore leg.
"Well, at least it didn't last that long.. It could've been worse, Rhosyth."
X'veir said as he unfolded one of his arms and patted the dragon's leg underneath him. He was fortunate enough that Rhosyth had chosen him when the green came and attacked him. But that was the only thing that somewhat disturbed the rider. Just moments ago, before the Impression of the bronze to that wherry-brained lad and the injury of the female candidate, jsut when the bronze and gren where about to have at it, was what somehow reminded X'veir of turns ago when he stood for his final time in the Hatching cavern and Impressed his Rhosyth.
That does not matter now, X'veir. What matters is that you and I are unseperatable--we are one.
The bronze rumbled affectionately deep within his chest and got X'veir to chuckle at the effects before both returned their attention back to the two groups of candidates as well as the eggs.
X'veir?
Rhosyth's attention was briefly caught unaware by the approaching of several strange people toward the gold's rider, Liyanna. How odd it was for strangers to come to a hatching without being invited.
Yes, Rhosyth.
X'vier was oblivious to the approaching of strangers as his attention remained upon the eggs.
There are strangers here.. They are approaching the gold's rider in the Stands...
The bronze swiveled his head about and growled low in his throat.
And there are some more strangers heading for the Stands.
If nothing else, Rhosyth had pretty much stopped his humming and was in a low, deep and threatening growl. He wasn't one much to approve of strangers, but he wasn't going to cuase a scene about it; not unless it was absolutely called for. It was because the bronze did not want to cause a scene that he resumed to a moderate thrumming for the hatching. He was concerned, but when he saw that two blues had hatched and started toward the gorup of strangers on the outskirts of the Hatching Sands, he about went berserk--though he did not do anything but inform the gold in a rather disgruntled way.
Queen Ariannalyth, there are outsiders that have Impressed two blues..
The bronze really didn't know what to do, but later he added something else to the gold.
X'veir, my Bonded, would like to know if Yours would need any assistance.. We are not going to make a scene, and therefore, has asked me to ask you.
Rhosyth stretched his wings, revealing the rosy red colorings of the wing saids with the darker red streaks before the dark bronze folded them again as casually as he unfurled them, shortly letting out a lazy yawn. If anything, the bronze was a natural at making even the most obvious movents casual.
|
|
|
Post by Yakura on Apr 27, 2008 22:53:32 GMT -5
Although she was well aware of the fact that maulings were not uncommon, Krii looked on with dawning horror as the bronze dragonet had proceeded to attack another Candidates. She knew that deaths sometimes occurred, but what the girl received didn't seem as though it had targeted anything vital, Krii noted with relief. The Ringed Bronze had other things in mind, after all, and finding His had apparently been his first priority. A boy had rammed into the bronze and forced him off, much to the attacked girl's...distress?
She blinked in apparent confusion. The girl was more worried about what it would do to the bronze dragon's claws than what it would do to her skin? That was certainly a strange stand for one to take, Krii decided, as the girl exploded on the others for attempting to help. Not only that, but she sought to free the dragon who was entangled in literally half of her robes. Seconds after the bronze Impressed to the very boy who had run into him, obviously taking something in the brave if not foolish actions taken. Krii shook her head, murmuring something to herself as she looked back at the Hatching.
Two blues, the Blurry Blue and the Scratched Blue were moving away from the Hatching Sands steadily, ignoring the Candidates. Were Theirs not present? Krii frowned, her bright eyes following the movements of the pair until they were almost to the stands. Had they...? Yes. They had chosen someone in the stands as opposed to someone on the Sands, and two strangers at that. Although Krii knew fewer of the Weyr members than the higher-ranking members, she did not recognize them at all. At the same moment her gaze wandered slightly, fixing on the the Weyrwoman and even more strangers. What was going on here?
|
|