Children of the Night (Whisk's Hatching!)

[4horseshowgirl4]

It had been a long twenty-four candlemarks. Whinae was sitting slouched on her bed, wearily watching her wher through sagging eyelids. She blinked heavily every few moments, as it was taking quite a bit of effort to keep her eyes open much longer. The source of her forced insomnia was quite clear. A small wher, little even for her color, was pacing up and down their room, claws clicking rhythmically against the stone floor. The Green was so agitated that she would allow her mindmate no rest: whenever Whinae tried to drop off into much-needed sleep, Whisk would enter her mind and vehemently awaken her. The wher only stopped her fretful pacing to dash over to the corner of the room that was covered in sand, warmed by a nearby fire. Whisk's three eggs were half-buried in the warm sand, quite protected, but the wher was almost beside herself in worry for them.

The eggs were arranged in a rough equilateral triangle. Whisk suddenly wheeled around and scampered back over to them, her eyes a quickly-whirling, intense yellow. She paused by the first egg, closest to the door: neither the biggest nor the smallest, and the dark-grey, concrete color eggs often were. The bottom half of the egg, or what little of it could be seen, gradually transitioned from grey to dark blue; the very bottom of it was nearly pure navy. Whisk crooned as she stopped by this one, piling more of the warm sand on top of it, nearly obscuring the egg's orange-tinted top. The next egg, big and brown and flecked with grey, again gave Whisk pause. She nudged it affectionately with her nose, rumbling softly. But she only spent a moment to make sure it was still intact before moving on to her final egg, the smallest, tucked furthest in the corner. Of the three, this was the prettiest, with tendrils of green and yellow curling around each other on its surface. Again, Whisk stopped to croon lovingly, before moving the sand near it around, bringing the warmer sand from nearer to the fire closer to it.

Whinae was too sleep-deprived to take note of Whisk's actions anymore. At first, she had been startled by Whisk's alarming change in mentality, and had probed the wher with questions, trying to find what the shells was causing her to act like this, but now she was past caring. Her earlier fear that Whisk's anxiety was being caused by another attack on Dalibor, perhaps the return of the renegades, had been assuaged by the fact that no one had raised the alarm, nor did anyone else seem worried. And, besides, when Whinae had tried to leave their room to go scope the situation (and to get a few breaths of brisk, chilly air-- this fire was suffocating!), Whisk had darted in front of her, hissing and blocking the door like a goalie, making it quite clear that Hers was not to leave.

It was evening once again, a full day after Whisk had woken up and begun to act like there was an axe murderer hiding outside their door to attack her, Hers, and, of course, her eggs. Whinae could hear their faint footsteps in the corridors above and around them, knowing that they had just about finished dinner at this time and were going to bed shortly. Whinae was envious of them. All she could hope for was that soon Whisk would tire and fall asleep herself, but so far, the wher showed no sign of that. {What is it, Whisk?} Whinae asked drowsily, repeating a question she'd already posed hundreds of times that day. She got the same answer as she always had; Whisk merely growled at her from her position fussing over her eggs, not even bothering to look at Whinae.

Whinae put her head against the wall, and, despite her discomfort (she'd taken her wooden cot and chest to an empty room where there was not a fire burning all day, so she had been sitting on solid stone for the past twenty-four candlemarks), slid into grateful sleep almost immediately. Whisk felt the sudden absence of Hers's loving, concerned presence in her head, and leaped over to where she was reclined. Whisk bit her hand sharply, but she was careful not to draw blood. All the same, Whinae shot up with a cry of pain, glaring at the Green. Patient though she was, she was quite tempted to hurl some choice expletives at Whisk, but before she could, she was interrupted by Whisk's voice in her head for the first time that day. Mine, LOOKIT!

[/color] Whisk exclaimed, drawing Whinae's attention over to her eggs.

Whinae obediently looked, her tired eyes taking a few moments longer than usual to focus on the three eggs. She was surprised-- her eyes widened and she scrambled to her feet, walking across the room in three quick steps and bending down to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her or not. Whisk rumbled in happiness, quite smug.

One of the eggs was wriggling. It was almost imperceptable, but there was no doubt that it was definitely moving. "Whisk!" Whinae said huskily, voice filled with quiet joy. She reached out to touch the egg, but Whisk snarled, and Whinae withdrew her hand. "You're going to be a momma!" She retreated from the sands and threw her arms around the small wher. Whisk shook her off after a moment. She had to call the Candidates and Whinae had to get them lined up and organized before her eggs hatched, or her babies would not get the joy of having a Mine like she did!

Risk's get Candidates for Whiskbabies please?[/color] Whisk asked the Gold with uncharacteristic politeness. They coming![/color] Whisk barked with her usual abrasiveness to Hers. Whinae opened the door, before running her hands through her hair, trying to get the worst of the snarls out of it, and smoothing her wrinkled clothes out. Whisk paced back and forth in front of her eggs, but looking more like a strict drill sargent than the anxious ball of maternal worry that she had earlier. Let them come and try to Impress her babies, those that were worthy![/right][/font]

[kia]

Risk was already stirring in her sleep. The sun was starting to fall and her body was telling her it was time to go hunting soon. She had not eaten in a while and was needing food soon. She rumbled lowly, looking over at her Mine (who was still asleep), and moved over toward the door to wait till her woke up. It was her usual routine unless Ridan managed to wake up first. But, he was still sleeping. She would give him a little bit before ripping his blanket off of him.

Then came Whisk`s delicate voice. Her eggs were Hatching. Risk`s eyes started turning greens and blues. Eggs were always good. Maybe she would Run soon. There was an Iron and a Brown in the Weyr. Maybe one of them would be worthy of her attentions. But, for now, Whisk needed her. Yes, Whisk, she replied back. Arching her neck toward the ceiling, she rumbled lowly again. Attention, Candidate, eggs Hatching now! Get butts here now to Whisk`s nest. Now! Else Risk be angry! she said to their minds, a lot of the attention shifting to Flayn since she remembered that he was interested the most.

Ridan stirred in his sleep and sat up. He blinked in the dark room and saw the glow in his Wher`s eyes. "Risk?"

Eggs Hatching now.

Ridan quickly got up to dress. He would love to see what came from the clutch. The birth of the eggs reminded him of the day he got Risk. Good and bad memory, but he always looked at the positive of it. He hoped all the Hatchlings would at least Hatch safely.

[harbinger]

Flayn jumped out of his bed, his heart in his throat. Now was the time and his blood pressure shot up like a kite on a windy day. Quickly, he grabbed his white robe and placed it over his head. Scooping up his hair, he pulled it back into a long tail and shoved on his boots. Whisk's babies were hatching and Flayn had been waiting in eager anticipation for this day.

'Oh please let me Impress.' he thought to himself. He didn't care what color; bronze, blue, green, red, white, black he wouldn't care. He knew he could make a caring and strong partner to any color or gender wher. He walked down the corridors, forcing himself to adopt a slower pace. When he entered the room, he paused at the doorway and bowed low.

"Beautiful Whisk," he said, his tone full of respect. "May I enter?"

He didn't think it was silly to ask; all Wher mother's were to be respected and revered. Nothing, not even his excitement, could distract Flayn from being respectful to Whisk. He would never dare her anger; she might hurt him to put him in his place or worse, bar him from standing. Licking his lips, Flayn laced his fingers together and waited. His eyes went to the large egg, the gray and orange colored one.

'Are you a green like your lovely mother? Maybe a pretty white or strapping blue? A bronze like your honorable sire?' he thought as he gazed hopefully at it. Would it be possible that a new color would be revealed.

'After all, there are Cyan, Pink and Orange dragons. Why not Whers?' he thought to himself. Were they just not part of the wher line or were they just waiting to make their first showing. He didn't know but he did feel that any color and any gender would make a perfect partner for him.

[4horseshowgirl4]

Thanks!

[/color] Whisk said happily. Risk and Risk's coming to watch?[/color] With that, she settled next to her sands, eyes finally fading to a deep, serene blue. Her eggs were hatching; how could she be happier? That Candidate that had touched her eggs was the first one to arrive. She liked him; he was very polite and flattering to her. She crooned a soft welcome at his compliment, nodding and allowing him to come closer. She was quite the vain creature, and Flayn had found the way to her heart.

Whinae smiled kindly at him, glad that there was at least one Candidate who wanted to Impress a wher. The vast majority of them went for dragons, to Whinae's bewilderment. She had never quite understood the allure of spending half one's life hundreds of dragonlengths in the air in Pern's most dangerous occupation, where many didn't live past thirty or forty years old during an Interval. But whers-- they were safer! Smaller, a snugglier size, a more protective personality. Sure, the hours were awful, but other than that, what was not to love?

The egg that had been wriggling subtly, more vibrating than anything, began to rock in earnest. It was the largest of the three, the brown one. Whisk's and Whinae's eyes were riveted on it. Whinae was still in shock that the eggs were even hatching, or at least on of them was anyway. But, despite her predictions of all duds, this one seemed quite determined to prove her wrong. A strange tapping came from inside of it, and then a very muffled, almost comical creel. Then, after a tense, silent pause, with everyone waiting with bated breath, the egg positively exploded, revealing a healthy baby wher.

The first thing they noticed about him was the startling shade of his hide. He was blue, a beautiful, pure and light color. His muzzle, lower legs, and tail tip were all a dazzling cyan color, which almost hurt one's eyes to look at in this dim light. And he was a stocky young thing, generously covered in muscle even in his infancy. Clearly he had not inherited his mother's slim build. He was a shade below average in size if one was to measure him, but his width made him look far bigger than he actually was.

The first thing that the wherlet noticed was how tired his mother's person was. Oh no, why was she so tired? She should go to sleep! He crooned in worry, flopping down on the warm sands as if to show her what she should be doing! He even closed his eyes and faked a rumbling snore. But he did not try to lull her to sleep for long-- in an instant he was up again, eager to explore. His eyes whirled a bright blue that nearly matched his brilliant hide, and as he skipped around, he flung his legs high in the air and flapped his wings, the picture of happiness. Then, he spotted his mother and gallumphed over to her, reaching up to try to touch noses with her.

Whisk was impatient with the little one. He needed to pick a person, the person that she had decided was good enough for him! She reached out a foreleg and deftly turned the Blue away, rolling him over and turning him towards Whinae and Flayn. Her message was clear: go to them, not to me!

The wherlet was devastated by his mother's rejection of him. He sprawled on the sands once again, curling up pitifully, and creeled softly. She didn't want him! Oh, what had he done to deserve such hate! He wasn't worthy-- he wanted to die! After several moments of this, with both Whinae and Whisk looking bewildered and alarmed, he seemed to decide that was enough self-pity for now and crawled to his feet. Maybe one of his clutchsiblings would make him feel better? He shuffled over to the grayish-bluish-orangish egg, touching it softly with his nose. He nudged it again, harder. His eyes began to whirl a rapid yellow to rival Whisk's earlier, and he jumped up on the egg with urgency, rumbling deep in his throat.

Finally, the Blue sensed that this egg was not going to respond, and he let a howl of misery. Whisk, now quite concerned that her baby might run off without bonding in this state, rushed over and placed him protectively between her two forelegs, nuzzling his head reassuringly. Almost immediately, he began to rumble happily. His mother did love him! Oh, that made up for everything-- even his nonexistant clutchsibling! Look how concerned she was-- and it was because of him! She was worrying about him! Oh, how that made him happy, but she shouldn't worry! He nuzzled her chest as lovingly as he could, trying to assure her that there was no need to fret. After Whisk had made sure that he was okay, she tried to gently nudge him towards the people again, but, again the wherlet was having none of it.

He got up, quite re-energized by Whisk's attentions, and bounded over to the smaller, green-and-yellow egg. He was suddenly buoyed up by hope. Maybe one of the eggs was a dud, but surely this one would give him a clutchsibling! He pressed his head against it, searching for signs of life inside. However, he felt nothing. No, no... NO! This one could not be dead, too! He shrieked again, pressing himself close to the sand and rubbing his head and forepaws in the sand, as if trying to bury himself, getting away from the sadness. He didn't want to be alone! The loneliness overcame him, and he creeled again, faintly and pathetically again.[/right][/font]

[harbinger]

As Flayn stood and watched, he could feel sweat drops break out on his forehead. It was still extremely hot in the room and his excitement was certainly driving his body heat up. He looked at Whisk and took a step inside the room, feeling confident that she did want him there. His blue eyes went to her Handler, Whinae, and he returned her silent greeting with a smile of his own. He could hardly believe it was happening and slowly, he took another step forward. The egg he fancied was moving; it seemed to be the only one moving at all. It was moving slowly, softly and then it stopped. Flayn's heart sank; was it not going to hatch after all. Flayn had seen many dud eggs in his time as a wher candidate and some eggs that gave you a glimmer of hope before refusing to hatch. He bit his lip in concern. Suddenly, the egg exploded open and Flayn's mouth dropped open in surprise.

'It is alive!' he thought with joy and his heart rose in utter pleasure. Out of the shell came a blue wherlet, at least Flayn was ninety-eight percent certain it was a blue. After all, this wherlet looked much more masculine and he had heard that Cyan dragonets were female. Still, his color was bright and sharding close to one of those cyan dragons. Still, Flayn thought he was adorable and his heart rose again. Would the little wher notice him; he seemed to make good time across the room as he inspected things. Flayn tried not to frown as he nuzzled the other eggs, which looked as if they wouldn't hatch. That was a fact of wher hatchings; even in gold wher hatchings there were often eggs that didn't hatch. Flayn wanted to step forward and comfort the blue wherlet, who howled in misery when he noticed the eggs were not viable. Then Whisk seemed to come forward and Flayn hesitated; he didn't want to be mauled for startling them. Then the blue hatchling bounded over to the yellow-green egg and howled again when he couldn't rouse the Hatchling within. Flayn bit his lip, it was so sad to see the little fellow care so much and get no response. It clearly affected him greatly and Flayn, tender hearted over the blue's plight, stepped forward to him and knelt down on the ground.

"You don't have to be alone." he told the blue, reaching out his hand. He projected warm, comforting thoughts and smiled at the blue wherlet.

"I'm Flayn. I could be your friend." he said, hope in his voice.

[Kila]

What's all the excitement about, darlin'? Nadya asked with lazy amusement. Nadysk had raised his head and began to listen to something. She could tell from the prickles of interest and the Wher's continuous attention on the matter that it was something of importance, though not how major.

Hatching; Nadysk replied contemplatively after a few beats. He had picked up on the high excitement in the lower caverns atmosphere and shortly after heard hurried footsteps in the halls. It was all very intriguing. Greenbabies. Whisk's. Go see? he asked, looking over to his imploringly.

Wow, I didn't even know there was a clutch down here. I really need to meet up with the other handlers. What deplorable social skills we have, Nadysk; she lamented of herself. But it's a great idea. Let's go watch, if we're welcome... and scope out the others while we're at it, she added with a hint of mischief and a quick flash of teeth. Come on, love!

Nadya hefted herself cheerily off of the bed she had been lounging on and strode over to and out the door, Nadysk eagerly at her heels. The Brown supplied her with directions and, with not far to go, the pair was there in no time. Nadya opened the door and they slid in as quietly and unobtrusively as possible, as not to anger the mother, but it proved quite unnecessary because Whisk was completely occupied with a brilliant Blue baby.

He is sad because other eggs are dead; Nadysk informed His, his voice colored with sadness. How terrible not to have someone to share a bond with- to be connected to and be with every day. Nadya frowned and nodded with understanding. The clutchmother was a Green, after all, and it was impressive that she had produced a clutch at all. That at least one of the three had hatched was a blessing.

Life not lonely; Nadysk spoke encouragingly to the little Blue. Choose lifemate. Don't hide- don't cry.

Nadya was paying most attention to the hatching, but even that could not dissuade her from casting her eyes around and sizing up the people present. There was one candidate and two Handlers with their Whers. But there was a Green and Gold, and one of them was a man? Nadya was sure that Dalibor's GreenHandler was a woman, so the Goldhandler was... a man? Too bad, she mused with disappointment. She was far less interested in men. But the poor, weary Handler of the Green was just as cute a could be. After the hatching was over she would be sure to introduce herself to both of them...

[4horseshowgirl4]

The Blue was showing no signs of unearthing himself any time soon. Faint, unhappy sounds still came from him periodically. Oh no, this was awful, they couldn't be dead, why did they have to be dead before they were even born! It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair! He wanted to be dead, too!

It did not take long for Whisk to grow impatient with her baby's dramatizations. She marched over to him, and deftly scooped him out of the sand. Silly baby go find His!

[/color] she ordered, pushing him away from the eggs. He squawked in protest, small feet scuttling against the sands, trying to pull away in the other direction, but Whisk kept pushing him forward. She rumbled softly as in sighing in exasperation.

Then, just as suddenly as he had thrown himself into grief, the wherlet's mood changed again. His mother was disappointed in him! He whimpered, but not because of his previous sadness. No, this sound was imploring, almost an apology. Instantly he stopped fighting Whisk and bounded a few steps away, standing straight and tall, flaring his small, wet wings. He could not let her be disappointed in him! He had to make her proud!

And then a Brown wher spoke to him also, telling him to pick a lifemate and not to be sad. He would not make him disappointed, either! Disappointment was an awful thing that he should avoid. So he had to choose a person like mother's or the Brown's? He could do that! He swelled up with sudden self-confidence. And, anyway, it would be most wondeful to have a lifemate to love forever! Suddenly excited by the prospect, and almost completely forgetting about his unborn siblings, he almost skipped over to where the people were, reaching the very tip of the warm sands.

A Candidate, the sole one, though the Blue did not care about that, knelt down and extended a hand. The wherlet was suddenly struck by the incredibly feeling of hope almost radiating from Flayn, and he promptly forgot about bonding and making sure his mother and the Brown weren't disappointed in him. Why was he so hopeful? It was such an enigma to the youngster! He simply had to know why. Then, it came to him... Flayn wanted a lifemate, too! And Flayn was so nice... so perfect! The Blue was struck by a great idea-- Flayn was perfect for him, and Flayn's hopes would be fulfilled if he bonded to a wher, so he should bond to him and make both of them happy! The Blue was delighted by his own brilliance, and so, so joyful that he had found the most amazing person ever to Impress to!

Flask hopes that his FlaynMine happy to have Flask! Flask knows FlaynMine makes him so, so happy![/color] Newly-named Flask said to the newest Wherling in utter joy. He bounded forward, licking Flayn's face eagerly, paws straining to reach his shoulders. His total happiness struck an incredibly contrast to the earlier grief-wracked version of him. "You need to blood for him," Whinae reminded Flayn quietly, withdrawing a knife from her hip and offering it to him.

Blue Flask of Flayn
color=deepskyblue

Personality:
Flask is incredibly sensitive to other's feelings. He will be the first to notice if something is right or wrong with anyone, especially those close to Flayn. And if something is wrong, he must simply do something about it! He cannot stand for anyone to be anything other than perfectly happy, and if there's anything he can do, he absolutely will. In this respect, he's a very good friend to have. However, his memory is lacking, and one's person's or creature's worries are liable to be eclipsed by another's. In addition, he does tend to get nosy, but he does not intend to be annoying, he's simply curious.

Flask also tends to be overly dramatic. A small cut is the end of the world. Finding a pretty stone on the ground is a cause for a celebration equal to a Hatching Feast. His emotions are unsteady and unpredictable; one moment he feels on top of the world, and the next, he wants to die. It will be up to Flayn to reign in his crazy moods and offer him a bit of stability.

Appearance:
Flask's color is his most striking feature. He is a beautiful, clear, pure blue, and his muzzle, lower legs, and tail tip are an almost blinding cyan color. He is just a shade below average in size, but he appears much bigger than most of his color because of his sheer bulk. He is very well-muscled, even for a wher, and when grown, few will have more power in regards to size. [/right][/font]

[harbinger]

Flayn had no words but a strange, gasp of joy came from his lips as the Blue touched his mind. He hoped his arms wide, losing his balance as Flask hit in solidly in the chest, licking his face and trying to put his forepaws on Flayn's shoulders. The newly Impressed Wherling grabbed the wherlet as he slowly fell back against the floor, laughing as the bright cyan blue continued to lick his face.

"I am happy!" he said, holding the wherlet up a little off his chest. "So happy, Flask. We're going to make great partners, you and I."

Flask wiggled excitedly and Flayn placed him to the side. The bright blue seemed full of energy now and he practically bounced around Flayn's legs as he got up to take the knife from Whinae.

What Flayn doing? Flask asked, rising up on his hind quarters like a curious canine begging for scraps. Flayn used the point of the knife to pierce his finger and then knelt back down to the blue.

"I'm making our bond stronger. Lick." Flayn told Flask. The blue set back down on all four paws, sniffing the bead of blood on Flayn's fingertip. He let his tongue dart forward, licking of the blood. Immediately, a new sensation came over Flask and he leaned forward to nuzzle Flayn's arm affectionately.

"You must be hungry." Flayn said, because he could feel his stomach starting to hurt as Flask's bond with him began to wind itself tighter around Flayn's mind. It brought to mind juicy steaks and warm slices of ham. Flask gave a sudden, wistful croon and pawed his wherling's leg gently.

Flask need food. Lots of food.[/color] the blue said.

"Thank you, Wherhandler Whinae." Flayn said, giving her back her knife. He couldn't resist any more and he bowed low to Whisk.

"Thank you, beautiful Whisk. Flask is everything I ever wanted." he said and the young man struggled to keep the tears of joy from running down his face. Flask whimpered again, pawing his rider's leg to get his attention.

Flask very very hungry![/color]

"Where can I get some fresh meat for this handsome pup?" he asked, gathering a wiggling Flask in his arms.

[kia]

Ridan made it in time to see the little Blue go to his new lifemate. Risk was behind him, rumbling with approval. The Blue had chosen a good person to bond too. Even Risk, who was not normally social with other people, approved of Flayn Impression to Flask. Ridan smiled, glad to see that the Blue made it. "Congratulations, Wherhandler Flayn. And welcome to Dalibor, Flask," the man said. But his smile turned to a frown when he saw the other eggs. They had not Hatched. He knew the mother had been a Green, but he had rather hoped that the eggs would have Hatched.

Risk sad those eggs not hatched. Wish they had. But, Impression good. Blue strong. Very strong, Risk commented. Then she turned her attention onto Nadysk. She had not met him yet. And she was a Gold! She should let Nadysk know who his leader was. Risk`s Gold nature led her to walk over to the Brown, standing as tall as she could, showing off the pride that she had. Risk glad meet you, she said, curious. But, also, behind that Gold pride was the other part of her nature. She wanted to flirt. After all, there was a Brown and Iron Wher in Dalibor that would be possible suitors for her. She needed to let them know that she was here for the next time she would Run.

(( Sorry for the short post. Sick and my muse is slightly gone at the moment. ))

[Kila]

Nadya smiled from where she was leaned against the wall by the door. She was glad the energetic little Blue had impressed. She could tell by the color of his eyes and they way Nadysk was fidgeting that he was concerned. She wasn't surprised; Nadysk was a Brown after all, and he often took more interest in the struggles of other than she did. He was the most kind and perfect of gentleman- the only real man for her. If he had had a tail she was quite sure he would have been wagging it when the Wherette picked the boy candidate that was hunched hopefully by the sands. His name Flask. Flayn, he informed her genially after the impression. Nadya pet his head fondly and indulged the general joy of the room.

Nadysk's ears pricked up and he turned from her hand as Risk approached him. He rumbled with approval and respect as she neared, bending his forelimbs and imitating a bow. She was beautiful! A regal Gold among Golds. The very way and confidence with which she carried herself was attractive. Nadysk glad meet you too, he replied humbly, regarding her with admiration. He had not seen another Wher since he had participated in a chase while he and His were lost in the wild.

Nadya chuckled to herself as Nadysk bespoke the Alpha Queen. She had groomed him well- he was a lady killer. He, of course, already had the nice thing going for him, but her outrageous ways had wizened him to more than a few ways to act towards or hook in a potential romantic interest. More times than not he was genuinely interested in the few things and others he met, but Nadya like to think of him as her partner in crime.

But now it was her turn to be social. "Congratulation, young man," she said to Flayn as she past him, nodding in acknowledgment to the newest member of the Wher subculture. "And hello," she addressed Ridan and Whinae, executing a shallow bow similar to Nadysk's try. "I know we have not yet met, though any possible reasons why can only be deplorable at best. My name is Nadya, and my handsome Brown bonded over there is Nadysk. We transferred her a while ago, but haven't yet met many people. And so, it is nice to finally meet you. I was concerned there may be no other handlers here," she said with a pleasantly low laugh. Her approach was open and friendly. As always she was laid back and didn't seem to give a shard about a thing. Her eyes shifted from one Handler to the other as she spoke easily, lingering on Whinae only just long enough not to be suspicious.

[4horseshowgirl4]

Whinae had expected the little Hatching to go smoothly and quickly, unlike the thrills and drama that often came with larger clutches and more Candidates, but Flask, as the Blue was now called, had managed to stir up enough excitement on his own to last the Greenhandler several sevendays. She felt a small pang of sadness when there was no motion from the other two eggs, but even having one hatchling was impressive for a Green wher. One baby was infinitely better than the zero she had expected. But, there was one good thing about such a small, intimate Hatching. There were not many people gathered, despite the fact that it was still before the majority of the Weyr's bedtime, but the ones who were here were either Whinae's friends (well, Ridan was the closest thing to a friend she had here!) or other Wherhandlers that she could hopefully befriend.

"You're quite welcome," she said gently to Flayn, taking her knife back and sliding it back into its familiar position at her hip. Whisk, too, crooned in welcome at Flayn's kind, grateful words. Whinae rolled her eyes subtly. That boy had her wher eating out of his hand! However, she had more pressing concerns than an egocentric wher. "Oh, shells, sorry," she said, rubbing her temples. Meat. Of course. "The kitchen's not a minute away from here; I'll be right back!" she said, stepping quickly out of the room. Whisk looked around and then decided to stay, curling up on the Sands and setting her head down. She would miss the faux Hatching Grounds that Whinae had created for her. They were so nice and warm, especially with winter coming!

Not two minutes later Whinae returned, red-faced and panting slightly, carrying a bowl of scraps from the kitchens. She set it down in front of Flask. "Sorry, sorry, I completely forgot," she apologized before stepping back. "What a great clutchmother I am!" At least the kitchen was close and there had been dinner leftovers still sitting out! Still, she could have brought it on time if Whisk had deigned to, you know, tell her her egg was hatching! Whisk glared lazily at her from her position on her warm sands. She failed to see how this was her fault.

"Hello," she said, nodding politely to both Ridan and Nadysk, the new Wherhandler. She thought it was amusing, really, how whers were so unlike their draconic cousins in each color's lack of pickiness, genderwise. Well, Ridan was the best example of that, obviously, but Brown dragons didn't Impress to women, either! Or did they? Was there a female Brownrider? Whinae couldn't remember; she didn't pay too much attention to what happened while she and Whisk were slumbering. Either way, if it did happen, it wasn't often.

"Thank you so much for coming to watch our little Hatching," Whinae said to the two. She was oblivious to Nadya's trailing eye, but even if she hadn't been, she would not have thought much about it. She had not spent enough time at High Reaches, Whisk's home Weyr, to have a weyrperson's viewpoint on such things as sexuality, and it was her holdbred morals that clung to her. Obviously, Nadya would be changing that soon, but for now, Whinae was blissfully ignorant. "It means a lot to us." She gave them a small smile after those unoriginal words, but she had little more to say. She didn't really know either of them well enough to make the typical social niceties of 'oh, how are you, how's your wher, is that lost talon healing up alright, did you hear they're serving your favorite stew for dinner tonight?'

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[Kila]

A broad, amiable grin spead easily over Nadya's face as the GreenHandler spoke. The most generic of greeting and sentiments fell from her lips, but she clearly meant them.

The woman was tired, tellingly worn out from watching over her broody mother Wher and the little clutch. The poor dear looked like she might fall asleep standing where she was. "Well aren't you just adorable," Nadya said sympathetically. There were bags under her eyes and her lovely blonde hair had fallen out of its bun.

Nadya reached up and tucked a loose strand behind Whinae's ear. It was soft and pretty. Nadya very much wanted to put her hands through the rest of it, but drew her hand away. "It was nothing. Thank you and Yours very much for letting us watch the hatching. I know there are many mothers who are not fond of the idea of unessecary spectators."

[4horseshowgirl4]

Whinae was trying to keep from yawning, and it was getting harder and harder. This was a nice little group, yes, and it was a nice change to interact with the few people awake at this hour, but Whinae hadn't slept for twenty-four candlemarks, and it was time to break up the celebration so she could get some sleep. Whisk was already dozing off, half-asleep, one eye still open lazily to make sure that nothing bad happened, but with Risk and Nadysk in the room as well, she planned on letting them handle any emergencies while she enjoyed her final few moments of these warm sands. Her baby had bonded, and it looked like the others were duds, but that didn't bother her too much.

Whinae gave the seemingly-friendly Nadya a small, weary smile for the sympathy and the compliment, though she said nothing. She knew any words that came out of her mouth would be punctured by a yawn or four, and that would be plain impolite, wouldn't it? She didn't know Nadya well, but here the Brownhandler was, in close contact like they were sisters or good friends. Whinae was glad that both Ridan and Nadysk seemed like nice people, and hoped to get to know them both better. She was too sleep-deprived, or perhaps she was just oblivious in the first place, to pick up the smallest clue of Nadya's true intentions; all she knew for now was that everyone seemed like a good potential friend, and she needed to kick them out right away so she could go to sleep.

"Oh, no-o-o," Whinae said, unable to stifle the yawn. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth immediately. "Whisk loved having an audience, I'm su-u-ure," she added, grimacing as she yawned again. Whisk gave a small rumble of affirmation from her position curled up on the Sands. "Thank you all for coming, I ho-o-ope," yawn, "to see you all again," she finished, opening the door and ushering them out as politely as she could manage, but it was painfully obvious that the poor woman needed a rest.

Whinae shut the door behind the three people, two whers, and one wherling. She stamped out of the fire, and then turned to the Sands, intending to at least start hauling the stuff out and moving her things back into her room before she went to bed for the night (an odd time for her to fall asleep, but as Whisk hadn't allowed her to sleep during the day as she was accustomed...), but she had bent down to scoop up the warm sand, and instantly collapsed, half-slumped on a protesting Whisk, and instantly asleep.

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