Straddle the Line [CalKal Double Hatching!]

[RavenSong]

Finally. Impressions. K'var relaxed as the newly bonded approached him, greeting them warmly, helping them get their bondeds settled with food buckets.

"Weyrlings, with me. I'm K'var of Blue Argotath, I'll be your Weyrlingmaster. Wherlings, head over to Lyrnn there, he'll sort you out. Weyrlings! Anyone with injuries will see the Healers once your dragonet has food. It's fish, watch them so they don't choke on it. They're going to be ravenous once they smell it, so don't let them eat it themselves. Take it from the bucket piece by piece, handfeed it to them. Yep! Just like that, well done. Once they're sated, they're going to fall asleep. Dragonets normally don't eat fish, but we'll get to that point when we get there. Some of you already know why. If you have any questions while we're here, ask me."

He regarded each of the dragonets.

"Once everyone's here, I'll give you all a run-down of the rules. For now, sit, eat if you're a dragon or feed your bonded if you're human, and relax. The hard part's over. And no fighting, if you're one of the ones that opted to fight out there on the Sands. This is rest time, food time. Not fight time. Fighting's for Thread, got it?"

---

Seph eyed the black wher approaching the Healers area, the one that investigated him.

"If you bite me, little brother, we're going to have problems," he said softly-but-sternly. That boot-sized little butt wasn't going to bother him like his siblings were bothering people, he was sure of it, and he was right when the wheret turned to Hirman. He was terrified for Lili and Seidon, but was actually pretty glad he was back with the healers after seeing what the little murderbeast wheret had done to poor Niorun.

Delilah's orders got Seph and N'yn moving. The Herder Apprentice moved to support Tamarine while N'yn started assessing her injuries. N'yn rattled them off as if by rote. Seph eyed the Cyan wheret with a raised brow but said nothing at all. Wherets were dangerous, he knew that now.

"Slashes on the shins, will require... irrigation to clean the sand out? And possibly sutures. Numbwort recommended for pain." He looked at Delilah for confirmation, still junior enough to be required to do so.

---

Lyr was done. She was done, she was finished, she was not staying any longer. Zabelith was crying openly at all the pain. This was not beautiful! How could they do such horrible, horrible things to people? Noooo. LyrMine! she cried. We need to go, I want to go, this is so horrible and undignified, and I will not be part of it!

So Zabelith was done too, Lyr decided. The pink certainly wasn't staying.

And neither was Kidanyr, as far as she was concerned.

Go ahead, Zabelith, head off to our weyr. I'll be along shortly. She marched up to her daughter.

"Kidanyr, it's time to go," she said. Kida froze and turned.

"B-But! I've got to help, what if they need something, I can't let them get it. They're all needed here. It's my job, momma, I'm a healer!" Her daughter's words made Lyr sigh.

"You're eight Turns old, Kidanyr, you're not even an Apprentice yet. I said it was time to go, therefore it is time to go. If you don't get up and get moving this instant, you will be grounded until you Impress a dragon and your dragon learns to fly. Do you understand me? No more flying on Zabelith." She crossed her arms and got the Look of Mom on her face, blocking Kida's view of the Sands right before the blue slew Orkia, luckily preventing her child from seeing that carnage. "Move."

---

Naraevhyn was pale. The sight of all that blood, the sound of all those screams, it was getting to her. She shut down further, which worried Simhath. The Green didn't like how every hatchling's games were violent, but she liked how it was bothering Nara even less. Nara wasn't moving unless Z'dyn did, though.

Naras noticed his daughter's body language and set aside his notes. No, there was no joy to this Hatching, not with the dead body on the Sands. He wanted to go to her, to hold her, but with how she hated him he wasn't about to try. Sighing softly, he left his daughter's care to her dragon, since he was almost certain the Green was the only one who knew. He started mentally composing a dirge for the Hatching. He was certain more would die or be grievously harmed before the last hatchling Impressed.

---

Davalla was scared. The pain in her knees, especially the one with bone showing, was excruciating. That, combined with her fear, made the girl break somewhat. Tears started streaming down her face as she started to cry. Why hadn't she chosen to stand beside Idra? Why had she chosen to stand by herself amidst people she didn't know?! Cursing herself for the lack of foresight and the desire to seem stronger than she truly was, she wept in silence. Davalla tried her hardest to keep it hidden.

Then a dragon stopped before her, presumably a Cyan.

Your Refugiath apologizes for her most... inelegant entrance, Davalla. Come along, now. We must make haste and leave these wretched commoners and their petty fights behind us.

Davalla stood there, pain forgotten, just staring at Refugiath. She'd done it. She'd Impressed. The tears changed from tears of pain to tears of joy as she bent down and hugged her Refugiath.

"Oh thank you," she breathed. Refugiath tensed up, rustling her wings.

Davalla, please. We are ladies, we should act with decorum. Honestly, what will the others think? Come. Let us leave, we have to get a head start on things. Oh. You are injured, I see it now. Can you walk? I hope you can, I would hate to have to rely on a commoner to get you anywhere.[/i]

"I can walk," Davalla promised, ignoring the agony as she let go of Refugiath and turned to start limping toward the feeding area. Refugiath walked on her injured side, partially to hide the knee injury from others, partially to support Davalla. The newly-Impressed Cyanweyrling waved to her sister Idra as she moved. Once in the feeding area, Davalla proceeded to feed the Cyan as per K'var's instructions, sitting down carefully to do so.

"Weyrlingmaster K'var," she said. "Once Refugiath is finished, could you help me to a Healer?" The redheaded Weyrlingmaster nodded once, grimacing at the sight of Davalla's left knee.

Refugiath looked K'var over, mildly disgusted. She remained silent on the matter, though Davalla could sense how she felt. Being bonded to a Dragon was going to take some getting used to.

[Gray]

There was something about Kalesk's prowling that made her feel so much better. The gold would end it, if needed. Matilda was sure of it. The gold would not trample her candidates, but then again, her refusal to do so only empowered the dark one. Craning her head this way and that, she tried to find where the dark one had gone. The sands were clearer now, though bodies still crowded close, oddly many making small groups, friends and kinfolk clinging to one another. There was power in groups right?

She didn't have to look long before the wher made an appearance. He had taken a disliking to another girl, and yet another holdless. This was not a good time for her people, Matilda had noticed. Damage was done, and Matilda could only hope that eventually life would get better for those she considered part of a large, weird family.

She could feel Atropos' rage from where the green sat, and if she strained her hears, through the screams, roars and snarls, she could hear the trio's outrages shrieking. Something bad had happened. Matilda could feel it from them and focusing back on the blue and his rambunctious brother/sister, she could see it.

Her pulse quickened, and nervously she licked her lips. Orkia was dying, it was easy to see. Matilda knew there was no saving it. She had killed animals with such wounds. She had seen her mother try and treat such wounds when fights erupted. There was no cure. No stitch or wrap that could staunch that much blood flow. This was not a beautiful death. This was cold and harsh, a life ripped from it's owner due to foolish antics. She could see the blue hadn't intended for it. It left, perhaps to impress, but Matilda couldn't tear her eyes from Orkia. Not for a few more moments. Would they drag her bo0dy off the sands, or wait? She figured it would be the latter, just for the sake of not harming any of the healers.

In the stands Kidanyr seemed to deflate a bit. She had not expected her mother to be so angry! Why couldn't she see? But Lyr was right. Kida was not an apprentice. She was 8 turns old. She was small and soft and filled with organs that were probably delicious to the whers. Lyr must be worried, Kidanyr thought. Her mother had rarely threatened to ground her like that, and never for so long! Kida loved flying with Zabelith and her mother. She loved the sky! And the clouds! To threaten that... well Kida just sighed a bit and took her mom's hand.
“Ok, I am sorry. I just want to help! They're hurt, so hurt... and I don't want them to hurt anymore.” The tiny blonde sniffled and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.
“Onhe day I can though. One day I'll save everyone.” Quince let loose a melancholy honk and went boneless around Kida's shoulders. While the girl had no seen the murder of a candidate, the green had. That was enough. Honking again, Quince nipped at her girl's ear.
“Ow! Ok, we're going. We're going.”

The blue's wail made Matilda tear her gaze from the fallen candidate. Oh, so he was Pyrus' wher? Good, the boy needed something after having his hand ripped off. Interesting, the blue had passed by Pyrus prior, but instead chased after the bloody wher. Closer and stationary, Matilda looked at Pyrusk, inspecting him.
“Oh Pyrus, he is beautiful, all sooty and sweet.” He was, really! Matilda was sure he was just a quaint little fellow, even though he had killed a comrade.

She had little time to try and offer to escort the new handler off the sands when the brownish one tore his way back near her. There was the now familiar shift of movement as others tried to get out of his way carefully, though it was now so natural that Matilda didn't take notice. There were attacks, so swift that by the time he was on her, she was still off in her own head. But then she felt it. For a moment it was just heat and pressure and claws ripping through the leather of her sandals and flesh. The pressure was unbearable, her voice caught and she couldn't make a sound. She didn't have to. As he put his weigh fully down, the crunch was loud enough to let those close know something had happened. Tears prickled at the edges of her eyes, and she teetered there for a moment before falling to her butt. She had never broke a one before, and the feeling was one of slow uptake. The crunch had sounded bad, that's why she sat, but she didn't feel anything.
“You salty pile of rot-riddled fish guts!” One hand closed around a bunch of sand, and she was going to throw it when the pain hit her all at once. It was stomach churning, to say the least. It rolled over her like a thick cloud and pervaded her senses. For a few, all she could do was sit there and hiss through her teeth. She missed his next attack. She missed his impression. She missed the hatching of his sister.

After a few, she opened one eye, then the other.
“Hey. Which one of you is willing to support my side. Don't think I'll be able to stand on this.” She motioned to her rapidly swelling foot, reaching down to undo the rest of the sandal and discard it, hissing every time her fingers lightly brushed the appendage.

From his place in the stands, A'til fumed. His lips were pressed so thin, they had paled and her heart hammered in his chest. From the ridges, Asperath snarled as his bonded's anger flowed through him. He had known this would happen. He had known she would be hurt! What hadn't she just listened? Why hadn't she stayed at the Weaverhall and learned a craft. Wasn't that what she wanted? He let loose a great breath of air, hanging his head. He was at his wit's end with her! All she ever did was defy him. He who tried so hard to keep her safe and sound, who who only wanted a better life for her! If she did not impress, he was going to to his best to remove her from the sands, to send her back to the Weaverhall, and to keep her safe. If he couldn't. Well. He was not sure what he would do. Maybe he would talk to Aylina and Wenth. The tan was rather helpful that first time around, she had helped soothe his worries. Maybe she could do so again.

[lee]

ooc: blood references, death reference.

Braele was moving before the admonition of the Candidatemasters clicked into her consciousness.When she did remember, she had already passed Kiaja and Imber, because her legs were so long (injured or not, and she did falter on the second step) that it took only a stride and a half. Too late at this point, returning to her spot would take the same amount of effort, and it had been a quick and smooth step, aside from the falter. She had moved, and she was here, and perhaps, in the rest of the confusion, it would be missed. Her mind, as unruffled and cold as always, spared a moment to juggle the pragmatic consequences, weigh them, and decide to continue on course accordingly. She knelt by the fallen Orkia almost automatically, deep brown eyes cool and analyzing, and even as she pressed her robes to the small, wide-eyed child's—child!—neck, she knew it was fruitless. She felt, as the helpless confusion in the gaze reaching her own faded into blankness, rather inadequate, as though she ought to have offered some sympathy, some soothing murmer before it was too late, and she could summon up nothing more than the same vague regret she had felt for the fallen green wheret.

Happy thoughts.

They were supposed to think happy thoughts.

Well.

It had been quick enough, she supposed.

That was...almost happy...ish.

It would have to do.

Her head ached, but she attributed that to being used as a black wher springboard more than anything, and realized she had left the injured Joni behind and by herself...and Joni could still be helped. Awkwardly, Braele slowly lifted her fingers to brush blonde bangs to the side, as gently as she could make her fingers do so, and after a moment of hesitation, gently, sadly, closed the eyes that had been wide in confusion a heartbeat ago, and now stared at nothing. The tall miner didn't know what to do now, now when there was nothing to be done. It seemed...inappropriate, even to the fairly logical Braele who didn't associate any deep emotion with these sorts of things, to leave the girl to be trampled, particularly when she may have family watching. She supposed she ought to feel sorry for them...Orkia was past feeling sorry for. Dimly, she recognized that her robes were not longer white, the sticky stain spreading from waist across torso from a flow that had slowed, because there was nothing, nothing at all, powering it forward anymore. It seemed just as unwise to lift her and carry her off the Sands, and last time...well last time, a dragon had swooped in, but there had been fewer eggs on the sand, fewer hatchlings spewing forth.

Well, Braele supposed, with the dry assessment she was prone to, even kneeling, she was still practically as tall as several of the Candidates standing at full height, and there were minds that could touch hers and instruct her to do otherwise if necessary, but she would stay here for now, guardian or at least distraction from the lost child next to her, kneeling with one knee on the sands and the other upright, so if she needed to push herself to standing it would take only a breath and could be done quickly. Her own wounds had gone crusty and sluggish, and the air stank with Iifelessness and hot blood. Braele decided it best not to think at all, calming her mind with steady breaths that only now made her realize her own heart was thundering, and the realization caused her eyes to flick back one last time to Orkia, and this time, at last, she felt true regret, and she gave the smaller girl a wry, small smile of farewell. She was sorry. She was. And she could only hope there would be no more souls to be sorry for.

tag: Orkia... sort of?

--

The girl in front of her, the one with the beautiful white blonde hair, was suddenly covered in blood. It happened so quickly that Eithne only had time to make a horrified, strangled gasping noise before it was over and the wher was gone. She tried not to shriek, but backed up instinctively, as everything in her body screamed at her to run! and she took another tiny step backwards, faltering and landing in a small pile on the scorching Sands. The heat broke through the shock and she pulled herself up again. Her heart pounded in her chest, in her ears and throat and fingertips...but she forced herself that small step back into place, fumbling for the unfamiliar belt knife that had replaced the one lost in Threadfall, that she had been instructed to bring to this horrifying, bizarre double hatching. Her hands shook so badly she dropped it, had to scoop it up quickly and stifle a sob.

Enough!

Eithne forced a deep breath. And another. No more shallow hiccups. So she was young. So this...wasn't what she had thought it would be. She'd faced death before. And she was untouched, for now. Blessedly, bizarrely, miraculously untouched. Her hands steadied, not completely, but enough, and she cut a large swathe from the too-large robe for which there had been no time to hem. She offered it to the bleeding girl with a hoarse whisper, rough and unhappy, that seemed to Eithne to echo like a bellow on the hushed sands, "Here. Do you..." she swallows past the dry lump in her throat and couldn't finish, starting over with a simple question to determine next course of action, or inaction, "Staying?"

tag: Dairine

--

Joshu screamed. It was a holler, really, a strangled sound of a choked cat, cornered and inhuman, and he scrambled to his feet and lunged, cane teetering on the edge of the Sands to drop into them, and Joshu lost purchase, faltered enough that someone could grab him, hold him back from the insane urge to leap on the Sands. Nori, Nori, Nori, and Ranthian, next to her, and Lanorun. All precious. All too important to be taken down by thrice-blasted hatchlings who hadn't the sense to do anything but death. He'd held his breath as the dark wher had only weaved between them, nearly wept with relief as it had moved on and they had been untouched. Fumed as the gold wher failed to take her offspring out before he could do more...

He lunged at the person next to him, eyes so wide they were surrounded by white, knuckles the same as he seized the man with strength born of terror for loved ones, with knots on his shoulder marking him the same as the blood marked his brothers, his sister, "This isn't a Hatching. This is a slaughter." It was a furious, strangled snarl, buried in a growl so low it sounded as though it came from a wher in truth, not a human. All of their father's stories about Weyrs, about dragonmen, perhaps he'd been the one who was right all along. "Is that what you intended? Take our most vulnerable, our most hopeful, and rip even that from them, from us? For what sin?"

tag: T'yandon

[princesal]

ooc: blood-, injury-, death- : stuff

Nodding at the Healer, he grasped for a name, so he could say thank you. It didn't really feel like anything when the bandages were wrapped around his filet of flesh. There was a certain feeling of rejection in his brain about it. It was like he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he was injured to the point of numbness. "tight, please." In reference to the bandages. Thinking that maybe he could use them to keep his legs straight, keep himself on his feet. Somewhere he had lost the sandal from his right foot, the lacing that held them on were cut with the claws, the one on his left was staying on from sheer will alone.

"As long as she's fine, I'm sure." Or at least he thought so, laying there as he was patched up, there was no way he was going to escape the fighting dragons. The scratch hit his hip, and Otto bit his lip hard to keep any noise from escaping, but this he felt. Like sharp stinging heat over his his side. His fingers flew to it, because it actually hurt, but the Healer was a man of hi- the pain seemed to have cleared his unfocused eyesight, and he looked at the Healer who was helping him. It was impossible to miss the lack of some of his arm, and that gave Otto courage. This Healer, this man, didn't let an injury like that hold him back. "Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you for helping me."

Then the Healer was gone, rushing back into safety, and even though Otto was in pain, and felt woozy, he couldn't stop smiling. Maybe it was the blood loss, but he felt like everything was going to be alright. He could be beaten down by dragon babies, but as long as there were people to help him stand back up. Grinning when Hulair came close to him, helped him up. "Thanks. Maybe I can attract some whers with the fresh blood, and they'll bond to you."

It was difficult to stand up, but even though he was drenched in the sweat of exertion, he never once looked like he was going to give up. But then he was up on his feet, and leaning pretty heavily onto the older candidate. He felt victorious already, and wrapped his arm around Hulair's shoulders. He didn't say anything else, and instead his eyes were searching out whers, and dragons, seeing what had happened while he had been nearly down for the count. He found the wher that had attacked him soon enough, and gave a noise of joy as it finally impressed. See! He knew it was just a scared baby, it must be so happy to have finally Impressed! Great news! See, things were looking up!

Yup. And that candidate was just sleeping. Nothing else, just sleeping. But he was staring, and... and this was no time to nap on the sands. If she could just stand up... she was going to stand up, right? He mentally tried to cheer for her, there were dragons and whers hatching. Oh, that person was g-... When he realized it was a different kind of sleep, his smile looked strained, and he felt good positive thoughts slipping away through his grasp. Looking up at the sky, he let his eyes close, and conjured up the face of his sister, the face of those who had impressed already, the face of the Healer, of the candidate who helped him stand. When he opened his eyes again, he didn't look her way this time. The last thought he held for her was positive, that he hoped she hadn't felt pain, that it had happened so quickly that her remaining thoughts were of excitement, and hope. He'd carry on that hope.

His legs didn't really ache, the bandages helped, even if they were slowly saturating. The only thing that hurt was his hip, and he favored it, leaning enough to keep weight off of it. Rubbing sweat out of his eyes, Otto's dark skin pretty much hid that he had just left fingerprints of blood on his face. He knew that he wasn't suppose to talk, so he pointed instead to where they were both more or less standing before. Did he want to risk walking? Seemed like it.

tag: Hulair (Boo)

[maruset]

(ooc: death)

There was even more chaos going on, as dragons and whers ran all around the place, and Valasco was definitely not really thinking on the calm that they were supposed to be. It didn't seem to be something that was going to work today, so he just tried to keep an eye on his sister. Should have stood closer to her.

Being knocked over by a pair got a small growl of "shards" from him, soft and muttered under his breath. It could have been worse, but he picked himself up and offered hands up to others by him.

There was something that happened further up, and he heard a sound he wasn't sure what it was. A wail of some sort, and there was a lot of movement up front. He couldn't quite see what happened, but given some of the things he could see and hear, he knew it was bad.

Another look at his sister, and Valasco went still as he saw the dark wher come charging towards that part of the sands again. He appreciated dangerous things, that didn't mean he'd be stupid around them.

It hit the guy next to him, clawing him up and then....Impressing.

Valasco had been ready to get out of the way of an angry gold, but everything stopped. At least the chaos in their part.

Then the sharding thing bit him, and Valasco had to refrain from kicking it. Only barely, though. As far as bites went, it wasn't bad, as he had been wearing boots. Ha! Didn't mean that he wasn't going to have some good bruises later, though, and Valasco knew it. Still, at least he was still better off than a lot of others around him.


***

There was someone dead on the Sands. Letorin stared at the girl who had died, eyes a bit wide. She was not standing that far from him, and he had turned when he had heard the baby wailing. Fingers tightening on Newt's again, he shifted so that his friend wouldn't be able to see. He hoped. Newt didn't need to see that, Letorin was pretty sure.

This hatching was going to leave a lot of mental scars, if nothing else.

He tried not to think about the pool of blood that was sinking into the sands near them, and felt a shiver go up his spine. This was the second death he had seen in the last few hatchings, and it was making him wonder about queen hatchings.

Taking a deep breath, he glanced at Newt. There were more Impressions, but it seems like it was still mostly chaos and whers and dragons tearing people up. Even if by accident.


***


It was turning into a crazy hatching, and Orkia did her best to try to keep track of the more aggressive whers, just so she could.

Still, she wasn't fast enough to avoid the dark one that took both her and Kiaja off their feet. Or the blue that ran over her.

Having a wher stomped on one's throat hurt, she thought, blinking up for a moment. Though she must have thumped her head pretty good, too. Everything was a bit fuzzy.

Then the blue was back, and he was looking at her, and Orkia wondered if he was her wher. Just for a moment. Though he made a noise....

There was someone else, and Orkia looked up, not sure why she was feeling so chilly. The sands were hot, and she didn't understand why she was cold, or the look on the other girl's face.

And then everything just drifted away.

[Kiran]

Kira was watching the hatching with wary eyes. Now it was an explosion of cracking eggs and impressions, and there was still a dangerous wher on the loose. One that wouldn't let the hatching go by without causing havoc. It started with a girl in front. She was young, and Kira could see that she hadn't worn armor. The blood from the slashes made her since, tremble to move to her and help, but the orders were to stay still. There were others there to staunch her wounds as well. She wasn't disembowled, but those slashes... There was nothing Kira could have done except out pressure on it either.

But that moment of thought was interrupted by the blue wher coming after the dark one. They tussled right into the group of candidates, on top of a few they knocked over, right up until a careless move by the blue had Kira seeing red spreading over the sand in front of her. She stared, frozen in shock as Orkia died. The wound was clear - a slashed jugular. Nothing to be done to fix it, but-

The boy, his dragon coming after him with red in its eyes, ripping out his throat

-By Faranth, she was a Healer and had seen people die before but the sheer brutality of it was nothing like when it was in the safe confines of the infirmary and-

There was no Impression to ease this one, the girl was alone here on the Sands. Not dead from a dragonet's simple fear but a Wher's simple maliciousness...

-And then there was another Candidate who moved to Orkia's side to tend the body. Kira snapped out of her thoughts, where she had been frozen by her memories and feeling like she was about to be sick. The whers had moved off while she wasn't paying attention. Kira also knelt to the body that lay in front of her, not yet cold. Closing the girl's eyes, she looked at the other Candidate that was covered in blood and gave a small nod of thanks, that she had been able to move and look after the girl (whatever that meant when the injury was so horrific and she had bled out in a mere few moments) when Kira couldn't.

Then she slipped back into place, knowing that she was paler than ever as the other icy blue wher came to look at the body. Kira wondered what this one would do to it. Try to eat the dead Candidate laying on the Sands? Seemed like anything was possible at this hatching.

Small tag: Braele
--------
Imber was far enough away that her view of the events was blocked. Mostly. She saw the dark wher run by and the franticness of a candidate up front. A mauling. A girl, a young one. But that ended quickly enough with the blue wher trying to intercede. It moved into the second row and....

Imber sighed softly, seeing the blood spread on the sand. Another candidate moved past her to the Candidate's side. Nothing to be done, it was clear from the amnt of bleeding there was. Imber felt badly for the girl. Both of them. All three, as she noted another one leaning down. The whers darted off to who-knew-where, leaving the dead be, except for a pale blue that hatched to look upon the dead.

Imber didn't know if it was some sort of acknowledgement or memorial. It didn't matter much in the end, though. The girl was dead, and that was that. Another one to add to Imber's list by virtue of proximity if not knowing the girl personally. She closed her own eyes for a moment, hoping the girl found Hers in the darkness of Between.

[birdi]

Hirman stared down at the injured wheret, surprised and for more than one reason. Why had he not let out a bellow of pain when he had been attacked by his tinted clutchsibling? Yet he’d had the sense of mind to come for help—although it disgusted him a tad, he had to acknowledge some grudging respect for the creature’s intelligence. Really, he felt his responsibility should be to the candidates—those which, it seemed to be, were getting more and more injured by the minute—but then again, he knew what to do and he had a patient in front of him, and with this knowledge brought a need to act. Although in this chaos healers were certainly needed for candidates, there were plenty who could handle that, and less of a number who cold accurately help a wher.

Letting out a frustrated sound, Hirman made his decision. He dropped to his knees by the black wheret. After all—what if this ugly child belonged to one of the candidates out there? It wasn’t as if the wheret was one of the more vicious of the just-hatched upon the sands, though Hirman was cautious when he reached out to examine the creature. It would not do to further startle a wounded wher—it was a recipe for disaster to approach any injured beast without care, much more so with one that could cause him great pain in the attempt.

“If you would just remain still, perhaps I could help you? Do not move,” he murmured, tone softer than the words, attempting to soothe the creature. He rather doubted it would move. From his close examination of the wher clutch on the sands, this one was perhaps worryingly still and solemn. “That’s it, just don’t maul me while I look—I will not touch you save when needed, do you understand?” Again, the words were less important than the tone, it was simply that Hirman couldn’t think in terms of comforting words. Always had been his weak spot.

The gashes were not looking well. Hirman frowned, but reached behind him to take up a clean cloth. In times like this, when the nervousness threatened to overwhelm him, he liked to run through procedure in his head. Facts calmed him. First, apply pressure to stop blood flow. Another touch near the neck to check the pulse of the creature; it was difficult, but the heart rate did seem a bit rapid, and the black was breathing in quick jolts. The beginnings of shock? No—it would not do for that to set in. Better assume the worst and address it, rather than wait for it to be confirmed.

It was a good thing he had not left the confines of the healer’s station. Hirman gave the creature a look. “Hold still, and I will be back shortly,” he informed.

Hirman left the creature to head off to the table, mind whirling. I will have to stitch the creature, he thought to himself, dread building up, To do that to an unbonded wheret? I cannot think of how I will accomplish it. He wished the black wher had found his bonded before coming to the healer’s area, and not after—it would make his life a lot easier.

At the very least, he could attempt to wrap up the creature in something warm to prevent the onpour of shock. Though even with that, he was unsure as to the creature’s response. And then came the issue of doing so when the black needed to be sent out again to bond… it would not do to hinder the creature’s movement.

Exasperated, Hirman took a hold of a blanket meant for the sake of candidate shock, anyway. There were things he could be concerned about and then there were things within his control—if this was simply not done, well, he would certainly very much like to see what another healer’s response to this situation would be!

He turned and examined the wheret, critically. Showing him the blanket, moving in slow motions so as not to give it a reason to attack, he knelt before him again. “I will wrap this around you. Don’t maul me for it.” He warned.

[will post for ‘nanna later, but I had to go to class! I apologize if I missed anything, will edit if needed xD]

[Chek]

Loki shook his head and peeled off his gloves, red with blood from where he’d been cauterizing the worst of the blood loss zones on the girl with the gutted throat with a heated metal instrument; it wouldn’t last – it was barely a temporary fix and not the most advised one. A pair of Journeymen lifted the stretcher the girl laid on away as he leaned back, bearing her away to a Master in the Infirmary proper. The damage was severe, but the major veins were closed; the was a chance for survival there.

He could smell the blood across the sands, looking out towards the Hatching even as he rudely gestured the upset man above to follow his daughter out of the Hatching. He catalogued quickly; the newly handless wherling – “Tedaon, first contact on the handless brat; get it the rest of the way off if it’s a loss and seal the wound. You know the routine,” – the injured wheret; Hirman, in attendance to the small creature, got a nod of approval before Loki moved on, stepping to the edge of the Healer’s makeshift triage area.

He counted; bodies down – that one an obvious corpse – not unexpected; and he instead switched to counting the people still standing mostly unharmed; seven unmauled. Seven out of over sixty, and the Hatching not nearly over.

What a miserable Hatching this was. Behind him, more Healers began flooding into their area, grim-faced and ready to work.

Far above, Damali’s hand beat a rapid tempo against her thigh with her free hand, her grip on Yhimere like steel, especially at his instinctive jerk upward when Newt was mauled. Yhisk was completely in Damask’s mouth to restrain her; long past words, she instead produced nothing but a mental montage of her biting everyone and everything she could.

Tius leaned a little to examine his tail-lashed shins, damage was minimal. All was well, with him at least. What could he feel for the fallen folk around him though? A sort of resigned horror, and a deep gratefulness that his daughter was terrified enough of dragons to sit this Hatching out.

Far at the back of the crowd, in a tiny, tiny zone of unmauled Candidates, Embla numbly looked over the fallen, weeping, bloody or dead Candidates spread before her. Is this really what to expect from a hatching? If it was, she desperately needed to re-evaluate her plans.



(I SKIM OVER WHAT I WAAAAANT. Aka Chek cannot keep up with the crazyface hatching.)

[Reky]

Risny had barely seen the whers coming. They came up from behind, to Norilana, and her heart constricted in her chest as the tumbled towards her, too. She was underneath them, the hulking beast of a brown and the fiery blue. She cried out with pain and tried to squirm free, kicking in vain at the sand to get some sort of purchase. Her arms and legs were cut by errant claws, her ribs bruised and sliced by the footwork of the battle. Something caught her heavy and hard against the face - a knee to the mouth, or something, and she tasted blood. She whimpered and moaned and cried out, and tried desperately to push them away.

This is what she was worried about. Her stupid dragon wasn't fast enough. They didn't come get her, and now she was a mess and she thought her finger was broken but she couldn't tell. She choked on a feeble sob and then the dark beast sprang off of her, winding her terribly in the process. They had Orkia down, too, but Orkia was... quiet? And when the battle was done, the brown left, and Risny and the blue saw the blood that had fed into the sand. Orkia's throat was a shredded mess of wet crimson. They had their differences and spats but all of a sudden Risny's heart ached liked they had been the closest of friends. She cupped her hands to her mouth and couldn't help but scream.

It dissolved into painful, racking sobs. Her ribs were bruised and every jerking motion sense pain riveting through her body, but she couldn't stop crying. "Orkia!" she spluttered. "Orkia!" But of course, the dead girl couldn't heart her. She wailed and tears flooded down her bruised and bloody face. Maybe her nose was bleeding, too. She couldn't quite tell.

She had never seen anyone die before. She had never seen anyone already dead, either. She didn't know what to do. She was torn between staring and forcing herself to look away; standing up and staying where she was on the ground. Her legs wouldn't bear her, though. She knew that. Not right now. As she covered and uncovered her face, in shock, she dragged blood from her lips and nose onto her hands. Granules of sand stuck to the wet. She couldn't stop crying.

Then, the pale blue came to look, and Risny wailed at him. "Go away!" she shrieked, and her voice quavered pitifully. She waved a bloodied hand at him. "You creep!" And her sobs caught up in her throat again and she coughed painfully. She looked past Norilana's legs, quickly, at the dragon eggs. Her chest heaved with the effort of her breaths.

(tag: everyone? she's being loud)

---

Inrahim, across the sands, felt his heart ache to hear Risny's ghastly wails. The other girl was dead. He felt the ghost of the memory of his wher's death brush by him again, and swallowed it back down. He raised his hands, with the hesitant applause from the crowd, to clap for the two new Impressions, but no sound came out and he wrung his hands instead. It could be the last of it, now that the monster was now safe in the hands of a human, but so many eggs still sat on the sand. It would be, inevitably, a long night, even when the eggs had all hatched. Sleep would be evasive.

[/blockquote]

[RhiaBlack]

Lili switched her arms. From crossed across her chest, to behind her back, to at her sides. Nerves ripped through her like the whers had through some of the Candidates, and she bit back the urge and the rising bile in the back of her throat.

So much death. So much murder.
Good thing her parents hadn't come for this one, and her sisters for that matter, either.

She was furious, she was scared, she was nervous, she was a thousand different emotions that culminated in a grit of her teeth as she turned her gaze towards the eggs. It was getting harder and harder to stay positive. Harder and harder to not just grab one of them and wring their malicious little neck. This wasn't confusion, or hunger, or anything else but pure wickedness, and Lili inwardly prayed that if Sora, Seidon, maybe herself finally did Impress, that it wouldn't be with a Dragon who enjoyed being cruel to anyone else.

There had been enough death and injury here to satisfy any measure of fate for the rest of her life, yet with a sickening shadow somewhere in the depths of her thoughts, she knew it wasn't over yet. It was close, though, at least with the Whers. It was close.

Up in the stands, Z'dyn was no stranger to that expression. With a silent movement, he reached out and put his arm around Nara's shoulders, pulling her against his chest and wrapping her up with both head-sized limbs.

"Don't y'go silent'n me now," he murmured against the darkness of her hair, "Not mad't you. Need y'strong, lady. Those kids need all the positive thoughts they can get right now. C'mon. Y'don't wanna look, I'm wide as I am fer a reason." He cracked a small grin down at her.

N'tharon wasn't handling it very well at all, either; mentally at least. Physically, it wasn't particularly easy to tell. The Blackrider stood from his seat, lacing his arms across one another as he focused listlessly cold eyes on the group and Sands in front of him. Sintharith's mind pressed Nel's with a sense of purpose. Perhaps to ease the memories, perhaps something more than that, but it was foreshadowed by the Black shifting on the ledge. His wings were adjusted, tail laid across the edge as he set his claws against it. Whirling yellow eyes were settled on His.

::I remember only one that was close to as bloody as this o--::

All it took was a hardened glare towards his Black to shut down the conversation. Sintharith laid his head down on his forepaws, and said nothing further.

N'tharon continued looking out at the Sands, trying desperately to ward off the memory of losing his intended weyrmate.

[Rii]

See? Ranthian had things taken care of, her youngest-older brother helping her oldest-older brother to his feet. Nori had to smile a little, nodding at Ranthian’s quick assessment that Lanorun was alright. Of course he was alright, as long as they stuck together they’d all be okay -

Claws dug into her back, biting through cloth and skin as the vicious wheret that had dodged them before returned, scaling her back and leaving gouges in its wake. Nori uttered a shriek of pained shock as it attained the height of her shoulder, its tail wrapping around her neck before it lunged down her front to rip murderously into her belly. Not deep enough to gut her, but it was certainly trying, and she offered a half-strangled, agonized scream of pain and fear because it was going to kill her.

Abruptly the attacking wheret was torn away - the details of how escaped her, all she knew was that choke-tight tail wasn’t wrapped around her neck anymore and the claws weren’t ripping her up. Nori stumbled at the suddenness of it, a hand instinctively going over her stomach as she first looked around, then felt the strange, warm wetness on her hand where beneath it hurt so much. She looked down, those pretty dark eyes widening at the blood that covered her robes, covered her hand, and there was more of it she was bleeding this wasn’t supposed to happen -

She looked up, her chin trembling, her body shivering right along with it. Ranthian. Ranthian had to help her. All the times she had hid behind Lanorun, or run to Joshu to tell him her problems, but it was Ranthian that she turned to now because he knew how to make the blood stop. “Ranthian,” she whimpered softly, eyes filling with a child’s tears. “Ranthian, help…”

Even in her distress, the blue wher’s wail made her look behind them. Look behind at a nightmare. With no healer training, it just seemed to Nori that there was far too much blood coming from an important place for that to be good. That girl was… she wasn’t blinking. She wasn’t moving. She was…. she was dead. Norilana looked up at Ranthian again, her eyes glassy with shock. “There’s so much blood,” she whispered, dropping down to her knees in the hot sand. There was so much blood, and she wasn’t okay… and her brothers hadn’t been able to stop it.

***

Sora patted Addy’s shoulder awkwardly - she was bad at being comforting and cuddly, but she knew the other girl had to be in pain and upset and well, she wasn’t that cold-hearted. “Alright, then. We’ll stay put right here,” she murmured, then assayed an encouraging half-smirk. “Don’t want your dragon to have to chase you, right?”

And then things abruptly went to hell ahead and to the right of them. That murderous little wheret and his pursuit-wheret had a serious altercation, leaving one girl bleeding heavily and - Orkia! Sora took a step forward and froze, eyes wide. “Orkia,” she muttered through lips that felt numb. It felt strange, the world seeming very quiet for a moment, like she was underwater or everything was very far away.

It wasn’t as if she’d loved the girl or been a dear friend. Orkia had had the most persistent habit of turning up to pester her, from the day she’d climbed up onto the candidate barracks roof to bother Sora for the first time. She’d completely ignored Sora’s attempts to get her to just go away, until Sora had given up and just - tolerated her.

I guess I won’t have to tolerate her anymore, she thought distantly, her throat tight. Something heavy picked at her thoughts, and she slammed a mental wall around it as if it could be stuffed in a box to be taken out and examined later, because she didn’t have time to sort out the complex snarl of thoughts and feelings that lurked in there right now. Dry-eyed and stubbornly neutral, she shook her head with a bare whisper. “Guess the armor can’t save you from everything.”

***

The hatching had been going worse than T’yandon had ever seen. And if it was worse than he’d seen, Faranth knew that there were spectators that were being horrified.

Not to mention the candidates.

Perhaps it was because he hadn’t let himself be paralyzed with that horror that he was fast enough to grab the man next to him as he bellowed like an injured beast and started to throw himself at the Sands. T’yandon lunged up out of his seat to wrap a muscled arm around the man - hadn’t he seen him around the kitchens and dining hall? - and dragged him back. “No,” he hissed. “You do not go down there and make all of this worse.”

Pale blue eyes met Joshu’s and matched his animalistic fury with cold calmness. “Sit,” he ordered in a winter-chill tone heavy with authority. “Sit, or be removed from these grounds. No, it is not intended, but what would you have done? Have no one Stand? Remove them all now and have none Impress, and the rest of the hatchlings between? Let no dragons Impress again, and have Thread fall unchecked across the entirety of Pern?”

His voice dropped to a bitter murmur, his hands tightening around the baker’s arms as much as Joshu’s gripped his. “I hate it too, seeing these young people bleed for their hopes and dreams. I hate that there’s nothing we can do when it happens. But that’s how it is. All we can do is wait.” Blast the shell and sear the skin, he wanted to be down there himself, taking those kids out of harm’s way and helping bandage their wounds. Instead he was up here keeping this half-hysterical man from inciting more trouble than there already was.

Sometimes being responsible sucks.


[tag: Ranthian, Lanorun, Adelaide, Joshu.]

[Rappu]

Kerke followed the dragonets’ movements intently. He could see where this was going, all the pieces were falling into place like in a board game. The dragonets and wherets ran around, knocking children over and attacking them, and Kerke shook his head. He had to help, not just watch children get mauled bloody and --
There were screams and shouts. Two blue wherets, wrestling. Kerke could see where it was headed, and he sprang up, started running towards the edge of the Sands. But he was too late. Would have been, even if he could have betweened into the fray. A girl went down, blood gushing from her neck and colouring the sands crimson. She was a goner, but he nevertheless ran to the Healers’ section, stopping only at the very edge of the Sands.
“This is madness! We can’t let them rampage like that! A girl just died there,” he nearly shouted, glancing at the Sands.

Calmera nearly growled at the man. “No, you’re not going in there. That’d only make it worse.”
“Come on!” Kerke turned towards Seph. “There must be something we can do, right?”

Dalahirath gasped at the action. ...And oh Faranth, let us have a minute of silence for the brave girl Orkia!
Analucia dabbed her eyes with a lacy hankerchief. Hatchings weren’t supposed to be death and blood, not this much. Were wher hatchings so uncouth, so violent?

Things were a blur around Ksenna. There was blood, a lot of blood - her own? No, she couldn’t have bled that much - and faces and colours whizzing in her eyes. There were screams and shouts and growls, all echoing in her ears. She still stood, swaying, on her slashed and bruised feet. The white robe’s rags were glued to her shins with blood. Nevertheless, she didn’t feel scared. The pain had receded to a steady throbbing and unbeknownst to her, her body was going into shock. She felt as if she was disembodied, slightly outside herself. But there was no way she’d quit! There was someone for her and if she could wait just a bit longer…

Irennar stared at the Sands without seeing them. Thoughts ran in his head. The dead girl could have been his child, his little Ksenna. They would have to pay. They would pay… He marched out of the cave, anger coiling and twisting in his veins.

-- Amidst death and chaos we also have the beginnings of life. Congratulations, Pyrus! --

Draolor gasped. What had just happened?! He hadn’t really known Orkia, but they had shared lessons and she’d been a fellow candidate. And now… What was going on? Another girl, Risny, was howling by the body. He looked around. Blood and crying candidates all around. He spotted Quellyn, a younger Candidate and inched towards him. "Hey, are you all right? Look, is that egg movin' there?" he pointed at the wher eggs, away from Risny and Nori and Orkia's... body. "I could swear it was shaking. What colour d'you think will hatch from it?"

[TAG QUELLYN]

[Nia]

It was time.

There was an aura of death on the Sands, the part somber, part panicked atmosphere and above all, the feeling of peace. Of loss. Of a girl slipping into her death, embracing it without fear. Or perhaps she had just been confused in the end, as the Blue stepped on her throat and slit it open, her blood seeping into the sand and staining it red. The change of colors from tan to red. It was... delightful.

As Orkia's body breathed its last breath, the reddish brown egg that had been in front of the Brown's egg broke apart silently. The dragonet inside was quite good at hiding itself among the eggs, ducking behind the egg next to his, the one that looked as though it could be his egg's twin sheilding itself from view. A long, thin, limp tail was visible, as well as the occassional foot or wing, but otherwise the dragonet had managed to completely shield itself from view, its hide color still a mystery. Mystery... it liked that. Creepy, mysterious, if it could, it'd be laughing in that creepy, unnerving, unhinged way that would set the rest of the Candidates on edge... but, it was too far away to laugh into the ears of the Candidates. For now, the dragonet was content to hide in the shadows, only occassionally poking its head out from around the eggs to watch the area where Orkia's body was.

During the wher fight, the Brown had stepped forward, finally having had enough of watching. He should stop it. He wasn't a hero, but he could play the role of one if it was required of him. He could play any role required of him... but... he stopped. The brighter Green from before had run forward and towards him, looking panicked. She crashed into her brother, but unlike Refugiath, he calmly untangled them and pushed the Green aside. The Green looked a bit relieved that he hadn't picked a fight, the ichor crusting on her hide in an ugly mess.

The pair were distracted by the fight, the screams, and the death, ignoring their sibling's hatching to look at the dead body in front of them. The Brown's expression was serious, but calm, but his sister looked worried and distressed. She was dead. Right there. She'd died. Something had killed her! The Green began to back up until she bumped into one of the eggs, her Brown clutch sibling giving a somber look towards the Candidates gathered around Orkia's body before going back to his Green sibling, opening his wings and allowing her to butt her head against him, seeking comfort and someone to listen to her feelings. The Brown was more than happy to.

The Yellow gave Ranthian another sad nuzzle, butting and rubbing his head against the boy in an attempt to cheer him up. He couldn't connect to the boy's mind and use his words, but he could use his body language and physical contact to try and help Ranthian. He finally untangled himself from around the boy, turning and leaving him with another happy nuzzle, going towards the throng of Candidates who were devastated by Orkia's death.

Risny's shout attracted his attention and he bounded over to her, bumping into her and nuzzling at her, leaning down at her and rubbing his head against hers. He looked down at her with his big, happy, love-filled eyes, but the Impression was not made. He merely butt his head against her again, hoping that he could quiet her screams and calm the turmoil of her emotions down. Shh, shh, he seemed to whisper. It was okay. It would all be okay!

And after a little while, he was off, through the crowd of Candidates to comfort the rest of them. He stopped by Kira, touching her gently with his tail before moving on to those who needed his motivation more. Seidon got a quick nuzzle and a gentle headbutt, the Yellow lifting his head up to quickly lick the side of Seidon's face. He was strong! The Yellow believed in him!

The Yellow continued on his journey to the back row of the Candidates, until he came across a boy desperately trying to think happy thoughts in the chaos around him. He felt for the boy, for his poor self-esteem and the other issues with sadness that seemed to plague his thoughts.

K'ian! K'ianMine!

[/i] he happily curled himself around Kaydian, nuzzling the boy happily while he spoke, You're great! Fantastic! Do not let anyone ever convince you otherwise. You are Mine and I am your Kamikith and we will be great together. So be happy![/i] He seemed to radiate sunshine as his eyes whirled with Impression rainbows. They would be great! He was sure of it. So sure of it!

[/blockquote]

SPOILER: Click to show

Yellow (m) Kamikith - The Sun - FFEC6D
Personality:
Kamikith is a bright little ray of sunshine, suiting the color of his hide. He loves everyone and everything, and really, this little Yellow should have been a motivational speaker. He's always striving to make everyone believe in themselves and be the best that they possibly can be. He wants to dispel the fear and doubt around him and fill it up with happiness instead! Unhappy things and scary things don't scare him, however, as instead he faces them with all his confidence and affection. If you love something hard enough, it'll love you back! Right? He tends to be fairly airheaded and doesn't seem to understand when someone DOESN'T want to be cheered up, but it's easy enough for K'ian to distract him with something shiny or someone who actually does need his cheery assistance.

While he may be as bright as the sun, Kamikith is not really the kind of dragon that particularly enjoys the spotlight. Sure, he's happy enough to receive attention, but he'd much rather be doting on someone else instead. He sees himself as an assistant, someone to help and push others to do their best. The only time he'll ever want to really have all eyes on him is when he's trying to give one of his "motivational speeches", so everyone can hear and learn how to feel good about themselves, too!

This Yellow really had everything figured out right out of the shell. He knows who he is and what he wants to do with his life, and he wants to help K'ian achieve the same! His positive outlook on life is downright contagious, and just being around this Yellow will make anyone want to smile, at least a little bit. He tends to play up his airheadedness at times in order to lighten up the situation, but Kamikith really is quite smart. He usually knows just what to say to make someone happy, and he even has a plan for the grumpiest of grumps. No one can escape him, and it is his goal to make sure everyone lives happily ever after.

Appearance:
Kamikith is a very cheery, bright yellow with a bit of an orange undertone. He's not bright in the neon sense, but more of a gold tone. If he was a shiny metallic, he would probably look very similar to his mother. But there is not a single bit of shine to Kamikith's hide at all, not even the gloss that tends to come with the more mutated colors. It would be an insult to call his hide dull, however, even without a shine. It is simply matte. He also has blotches of a darker yellow, almost orange, along his belly, legs, neck, nose and feet. His wing has a large splotch of the darker orange, looking a bit like someone dropped a big glob of paint on his wings.

For a Yellow, Kamikith is very small. Not even just in size, everything about him is small. His legs are thin and his feet are quite dainty, and his tail is simply average sized. His wings are also a bit small, but it doesn't affect him all that much since everything about him is little anyway. He's decently proportioned for his tiny size, though he's somewhat thin. His muzzle is short and his headknobs are a bit pointy at the ends. He is incredibly short, and will grow to be 33 feet.

The dark colored egg that was behind the creepy dragon rocked and shook in short bursts, web-like lines splintering up the side of the egg until it collapsed inward on itself, leaving a little, darkly colored Cyan head to poke out and sniff the air. Blood... smelled like blood! She ducked back into her collapsed egg, a larger part of the shell falling on her head and staying there, looking a bit like a little crown. She twitched her whole body to get rid of it, shivers running down her spine to her tail. Oh, she was a little bit nervous! Was it really okay? She wasn't sure if she should....

The Cyan took a hesitant step forward, jumping even more forward and almost hopping towards the Candidates. Um, hello! Hi. She was here! Oh, everyone was really sad? She didn't know what to do about that. She was very sorry! But she hoped everyone would-- OOH!

In her bouncy haste to probe the minds of the Candidates, the Cyan had stumbled over one of her wings and landed sprawled on top of Orkia's bloody body. The blood coated the Cyan's hide and she gave a terrified shriek, scrabbling around and scratching up Orkia's body in the process, causing more blood and more panic.

She finally managed to drag herself off of the body, ducking under he wings nearby, looking and feeling quite guilty about it. She hadn't meant to! She was sorry! She really hadn't meant to! It was just, she'd tripped, and.... the Cyan continued hiding in her wings from the eyes of the Candidates, sure that they were all just going to hate her now....

Seeing her Cyan daughter covered in blood was finally what pushed Callistath into action. She gave a low rumbling sound, a warning to any of the wherets and dragonets. No more blood. She was not tolerating it. However, the current whers seemed all but harmless, and she knew that they needed to act quickly before anything else bloodthirsty decided to showitself before they could remove the body of the dead Candidate. Call for Yuri and Yusk, Avalle finally said to her bonded, watching the Hatching with a grimace, particularly the grisly scene of the Cyan and Orkia's body.

Yusk,

[/i] Callistath's voice was gentle but still commanding as she contacted the Green, Tell Yours to come down here and pick up the Candidate's body. Make sure to hurry,[/i] she directed the Green and her handler. At least Yusk was well-known to the Candidates, and perhaps seeing a friendly wher would help them get over their fear and feel a tiny bit better. The dragonets needed happy Candidates, afterall....

The Brown was still listening to his sister, who had begun to cheer up. She even butted into him with her head, though it didn't hold the affection that Kamikith's headbutts did. Well, it did, but it was far more violent. The Brown nudged her towards the Candidates and she swat him on the nose with her tail, stalking off towards the Candidates anyway. The Brown was content to stay back with the eggs, despite his mothers inquiry and insistance that he go to the Candidates as well. No, no, he replied. It wasn't time for him yet.

The Green, however, was on a new Brown-given mission. Find Her's and get off the sands so she could go join Junonth. Right. She still wanted to avoid Orkia's body however, so she went all the way around to Aleksandr and walked around the outside of the Candidates, following the path that the Black had taken to the healers. She sort of hesitated by the Healers, watching them with whirling eyes, but none of them were for her. Most of them already had bondeds of their own. She pushed into the crowd, accidently knocking Artolan with her wing and clumsily stumbling into Alastrin. She hesitated near Eithne, looking at the girl, but the real reason she'd hesitated was because of all the blood on the ground near Pyrus. She didn't really like that... it was kinda yicky.

Determined not to show her fear, however, she walked around Pyrus and his wher, instead going towards Mairhi. She looked the girl in the eyes, not breaking away to look at anything else as the Impression connected. Come on, MairhiMine![/i] she said urgently into her bonded's mind, Your Querenth wants to leave, this space is too small and cramped and my siblings are such wherrybrains![/i] she pulled the word straight from Mairhi's connection with her, though it was said with some hint of affection. She grew a bit happier as an idea began to form in their shared mind, Oh, I know! Let's race to the meat. Winner gets extra,[/i] she was definitely implying that she'd be the winner here, as of course Mairhi wouldn't be able to out-run a dragon. Even if she was only a hatchling. Though Querenth certainly hoped she would try.

[/blockquote]

SPOILER: Click to show

Green Querenth - The Chariot - 1C7122
Personality:
Querenth is a fighter. She's a competitive and loves anything sport-like. She loves activity and all sort of exercise, particularly the ones that have some sort of competition involved. She's constantly striving to be the best at what she does. Sitting still is difficult for her, not because of her attention span or anything, but because she'd so much rather be doing something that involves moving herself around. Running is a particularly favorite pasttime of her's, and she even prefers running to flying.

As competitive as she is, Querenth is not a very sore loser at all. She's graceful when she loses and will happily admit defeat to someone who is better than she is. It gives her motivation to keep going, to keep striving to be the best. She has a lot of willpower and self-control, and she does know her limits. Querenth won't push herself beyond what she's capable of. She will, however, push everyone around her to be active with her. Mairhi gets this a lot, as she really wants the two of them to be able to match each other when it comes to physical activity. She won't stand for it if her rider is weaker than she is!

Querenth is also rather easily embarrassed. She puts up the tough-girl front with all her activities, but she's a bit of a hopeless romantic on the inside. If she wasn't such a tomboy she'd probably be very flirty. Embarrassment makes her angry, however, so any attempt at flirting with her is met with an angry outburst or a sarcastic, mocking comment. She has a lot of pride in herself, and won't be made a fool of by some stupid male dragon.

Appearance:
Querenth is a very saturated green color. Her markings are a bit odd as she has some very light green, almost tinging on yellow stripes along her neck and underbelly. The same yellow-green is splashed on her shoulders and hindquarters, as well as on her feet. She is also accented by a light, more lime green color next to the yellow-green, toning down the yellow against her hide.

Querenth's legs are very long, as well as very muscular. She's thin otherwise, but her legs are definitely the strongest parts about her. In comparison, her tail is rather short, as is her neck. Her wings are about averagely sized, and are large enough to carry her at least. Unlike most dragons, she is much better on land than she is in the air. She's not very agile and her short tail coupled with her long legs makes it difficult for her to maneuver easily. She is a tall Green, and will grow to about 29 feet.

[/size]

[Reky]

The yellow came between her and the blue wher. Immediately, she was confused. Her chin quivered and her lips trembled. He was so bright in her tear-blurred vision, so kind and warm and new, nuzzling and rubbing against her. Her hands were frozen, though, hovering just above the sand. She wanted to hug him, but she wasn't sure if she could. If she was allowed. He butted against her so gently, and in a way, it worked - she was quieted. But as he left, she felt terribly lonely. Why had he been so nice if he didn't want her? Was she just bugging him, being so loud? Why did he come to her, and why did he leave?

She sniffled and blood was siphoned up into the back of her nose and throat. She grimaced and coughed; her eyes teared up again. She told herself that she needed to stand up, but her legs were locked where she sat on the sand. She needed to get up, but she didn't want to. She sort of wanted to crawl away, quietly, away from Orkia's body and all of these dragons and whers and hurt people. She wanted to get cleaned up. This was all stupid. Dumb. It scared her. She didn't like it. When she had imagined becoming a dragonrider, she thought it would be more glamorous and honorable. She didn't think it would be her crying on the floor next to a body.

Then, the cyan came, and Risny sucked in a tight gasp of a breath. People needed to stay away from Orkia, she thought furiously. But she watched the cyan trip and flounder and make a mess of the dead girl, and she couldn't do anything. She'd ran out of sound; of motion. The sheepish guilt the cyan showed afterwards made Risny mad, but in the same breath, she didn't care. She swallowed, her throat metallic-tasting and raw from crying. She needed to get up, she thought again, but she still didn't want to. She could see the eggs through Ranthian and Norilana's legs, anyway.

Breathing light and ragged, now, she had resigned herself to letting the strange flood of emotion wash over her. She had cried herself tired. Staying still, anyway, made it so her ribs hurt less. It was better down here. She didn't have to worry about being knocked over again. She could keep Orkia company. She swallowed again and again, mouth drying out. I guess I can stay to the end, she thought, and even though it was borne of defeat, it was the typical, stubborn Risny coming through.

[/blockquote]

[Zephyr]

This was it. Things were going to be okay. For the most part, aside from Lanorun’s little tumble, the siblings remained relatively unscathed. He was just thinking that he was going to have a word with he and Joshu about allowing Nori to stand in dangerous hatchings when he caught sight of the flash of gold hide coming towards him and he was instantly tangled up with a dragon. Wait…why hadn’t he noticed a gold hatching? Wait no…there was no distinctive sheen on the hide in front of his face. So it was a yellow that’d just barreled him over.

The boy grumpily flailed, trying to get himself untangled from the ungainly baby. The yellow, it seemed, was much more considerate than his siblings and helped the boy up with minimal scratches even. A little shell shocked at the temperament of the hatchling even more than actually being knocked over in the first place…and then being…cuddled by the baby. Ranthian just looked over at Nori for a moment, reaching out a trembling hand to scratch the baby gently. The pair of them had already been acquainted…they were far past the no touching rule.

He was busy with the yellow, and he’d never forgive himself for that, because he completely missed the reddish brown wher bearing down on his sister until it was on her. He jerked away from the hatchlings for a moment, just staring in shock for a moment as the wher seemed to dare them to try and help her.

Then Nori’s shriek rang through the air, and Ranthian’s stomach completely twisted in half. He hesitated, for only a moment while the wher was working its way down and through her body before he reached out, completely overcome and not giving a shit about the no fighting back rule in an attempt to fling the evil wher off of his baby sister. The wher clawed at his arms and hands, and only dug in deeper. Ranthian ignored the deep cuts welling blood, the pain cut off at the thought of his sister being injured. “Nori!” His own voice was desperate and panicked, laced with fear and adrenaline masking the pain from the cuts as he attempted to free his sister from the wher.

It was gone as quickly as it came, and Norilana was left in ruins in his arms. He fell with her, cradling her in the sand, so much blood between them that he didn’t know where his stopped and hers began…in fact, he wasn’t consciously aware of the fact that he was bleeding. There was just so much blood and it was his baby sister and if she died, he didn’t know what he’d do. He had no doubt that this would tear the family apart. Nori was their glue.

He couldn’t let her die…he just couldn’t. “Shhh, Nori. Stop.” Her broken voice sent shivers down his spine and he tried not to shake as he held her, keeping her from falling back onto the hot sand with her injured back. The boy was aware of nothing besides the way too light form of his baby sister, how starkly pale her skin was and the rushing of his own blood in his ears. “Don’t talk…just don’t.” He knelt on the sands next to her, eyes wet from tears and searching desperately…first for Joshu, in the stands…then for Lanorun. They’ve always been the ones on top of everything. The ones Nori loved and relied on for everything…but they couldn’t help her now…and there were no healers around.

Only him.

His hesitation lasted only for a moment, could only last a moment when she was bleeding out in his arms. With a determined tilt to his eyes, Ranthian stops looking to his brothers for help and smiles down at his sister, kissing her sweat and blood smeared temple. “We’ve got this. You’re too strong to give up. C’mon Nori.”

He started to tear off pieces of his robes, ignoring the protocol and any outrage. He could get more robes, he couldn’t get another sister. Ranthian was finding it hard to rip the fabric with one hand and balance his sister, so he pulled the robe off, using his free hand and his mouth to rip strips from the fabric. “Hey, hey…no.” He said as she whispered. “Don’t look…hey, Nori…look at me.” He tilted her chin around until she was looking into his eyes – and he had to keep himself from flinching at how glassy her eyes looked – “You’re good. I…” promise…but he couldn’t say that, not when he could still feel her blood seeping out.

So he didn’t promise.

He ignored everything. The yellow, the other babies and candidates in favor of methodically wrapping the strips of fabric around the worse of Norilana’s wounds, trying to stop the blood. He was covered in blood from both of them, and he had no idea that the wher had taken off a couple of his fingers in the interim, because he couldn’t feel the pain and he didn’t care at all.

After he’d done all he could, he sat down in the sands, leaning Nori against his chest and draping the rest of his tattered robe over her body. He didn’t care if he impressed anymore. The only reason he wasn’t carrying his sister away and straight to the healers is because he didn’t know that the demon wher had impressed, and he had no idea what the status of the rest of the eggs were. So he half leaned over his sister like a protective barrier against the rest of the world, cradling her like something precious and murmuring softly into her hair.

He talked about life, about the dragon she was going to get. He laughed about the silly things they did as kids, about their parents, just anything he could think of to keep her awake. “I know you’re probably tired.” He breathed against her skin, keeping the pressure of his hand against the deeper wound on her stomach. “But you’ve gotta stay awake for me, at least for a little while. C’mon, Nori. Talk to me.” Ranthian wasn’t chatty, but if being obnoxious and chatty kept his sister alive, he’d talk all day. He made sure to keep the fear and sadness out of his voice, because he would be the one she turned to for once. He'd be her strong big brother for the first time ever, and he'd get her through this.

So he sat, cradling Nori against his chest and ignoring the world completely in favor of his sister, his body curled around her’s like he could keep the world out.

He’d sure as hell keep any dragons and whers away from her, and the healers would have a fun time prying him away from her.

[maruset]

Lavi let out a sigh as the boy next to her Impressed. That was good, and the yellow was such an good color for him. She had only seen Kaydian a few times, but he had seem like such a quiet kid. A dragon as happy and cheerful as a yellow was going to be good for him.

Still, when the dragon came close, she held still. So far, she had lucked out. And Lavi didn't want to draw attention to her of a dragon or wher that was just as aggressive as the ones who had hit the people around her. Plus, she also knew that Val had been hit at least once by something, if his word choice was anything to go by.

Swallowing back a lump in her throat, Lavi knew that something really bad had happened, and she was pretty sure that someone was dead, if the other girl's reaction was anything to go by. That was....

No, she was not going to think of that. She was going to focus on the good thoughts that they were told to think of. Even as the green came by, stumbling into a few others, Lavi held her ground. The girl waited, eyes following the green as she found her partner. Okay, that was good.

Every impression was a good one, one less dragon or wher to hurt someone, one less person on the sands to be hurt. Plus, with each person who left, that meant more room for the other candidates, who could use that space to avoid accidental injuries from those just hatching. And more room to dodge those that were intentionally hurting candidates.

She would either Impress her, or she would end up standing again. Only time would tell, and she did her best to watch the others around her as she waited to find out how this would end.

[Kila]

Nadya awoke to find Aydan tugging insistently at her sleeve,
looking particularly electrocuted as he held his eyes open wide. His two
pillies were scuttering madly about on the floor, frenzied on their
little human's behalf. "What?" she groaned, pushing him away.
"Shards and shells, it's the middle day." The Brass bristled and
clawed his way onto the bed, attempting to maul Nadya's leg through her
furs. He did not at all approve of her physical dismissal of his ward.
"Get off me, shard it!" she snapped, sitting up and kicking the
pillie off the bed. He had heard that before- so many times that it had
become his name. Aydan gasped like a fish suddenly deprive of water and
scrambled after Shardit. Nadya flopped back down but he returned
immediately, frothing pillie wrapped lovingly in his arms. Her bastard
son stared at her accusingly and with impatient determination. "What
do you want?" she growled again, knowing he would not be easily
dismissed. Nadya was in no mood for a screaming tantrum.
The Hatching. It was Nadysk who supplied the
answer, having also been woken. Once he said it Nadya heard the low
throb of humming and the sound of anxious feet in the hallway. "You
want to go?" she addressed Aydan dryly, not at all amused by the
prospect. He stared silently back at her, as if the answer was so
obvious that it did not deserve a nod. Nadya let out a frustrated,
disgruntled noise and threw the covers off of her. "Fine."

They reached the sands relatively on time; Nadya seething silently and
Aydan alight with equally silent joy. The BrownHandler chose a seat on
the bleachers with the fewest neighbors, though all of them filled up
quickly as more people poured in. Aydan wasted no time in climbing atop
his seat and standing so that he could have the best view of the two
clutches and the candidates assembled below. Glancing at him as he
tottered, Nadya crossed her arms and leaned back, yawning crossly. She
watched however, mildly curious now that she was actually there. While
Aydan was interested in all of the eggs, Nadya focused on Kalesk's. A
Gold clutch of this size was rare, and for once the Whers were in the
spotlight.

Aydan was beside himself when the first egg hatched, and then the next
and the next. He struggled to discern one species from the other,
delighted to find that apart from their size and their division on the
sands there weren't many yet. The magic of the hatching stopped abruptly
at that point. Aydan looked on with confusion as the dark reddish-brown
wher leapt upon his skinny green sister and began to beat her with his
paws. She shortly ceased to struggle, and when the big golden wher that
was his mother chased him off the Green did not move. There was a hush
beneath the screams from below. He looked over to Nadya, seeking some
sort of explanation. "Dead," she said. Her voice was flat, but
uncharacteristically gentle. It had jarred even her. Aydan did not fully
understand, but he knew that it was something bad. He turned cautiously
back to the Hatching, comprehension lurking on the edge of his
consciousness.

The dark murderwher was far from done. He looked on with morbid
fascination as it slunk through the candidates, mauling them with teeth
and claw. Where the sands had been pristine before, they were quickly
tainted with stains of green and red. More violent hatchlings followed,
but also some valiant ones to cow their angry brothers into submission.
Aydan was not interested in the dragons that remained ambivalent to the
struggle, skirting the chaos or sitting in the safety of their half of
the sands. Both good and bad fascinated him, the heroes and villains
alike. He watched them with wide eyes as they barreled through the
white-robed candidates, causing utter destruction and occasionally
pausing to impress one of the older children or offer them a bit of
comfort. There were moments of beauty but the scene was overwhelmingly
grotesque. There was only one thing about it that Aydan knew for sure...

He wanted one.

Though she really didn't know the schizophrenic holdless man currently
sitting beside her very well, Sol felt like she was spending time with a
good friend. She smiled when he squeezed her hand and laughed when he
turned around and warned it not to use the "c" word while they were
there. It felt good to be able to do something nice for him, kind and
mysteriously sad as he was, and even better to have company for the
exciting event that had had the Weyr abuzz for what seemed like ages.
I don't know why he didn't want to be searched, but it must feel good
for him to see his friends down on the sands, she mused to Eccolath,
seeing the way his eyes lit up when he saw the formerly holdless
children and waved. They fed off of one another's excitement, and off
the excitement of everyone squeezed into the Hatching Cavern, and were
practically bouncing like children when the first egg hatched.

The hatching became a thing of nightmares in a matter of minutes. Sol
looked on horrified as a hatchling was killed by its sibling and the
candidates were systematically assaulted. She jumped when Harri leapt to
his feet, startled out of her complete concentration on the scene below.
She cringed when she saw the boy he cried after, discarded and mangled
on the sands. The Healers came to his aid eventually, and it was only
then that Harri sat, head between his knees. Sol felt a sharp pang of
guilt at Hand's sarcastic comment. "No, no they're not normally this
bad! Hatchlings are volatile and have been known to be violent, but
this..." she trailed off, unable to find the right words. "I'm so
sorry, Harri. If I'd know it was going to be like this I wouldn't have
made you come." Lulz eyed hand curiously as it babbled on, but
between the gore of the hatching and Harri's reaction Sol was
distraught. When the little Yellow hatched she latched onto it eagerly,
grateful for the sudden ray of sun. "Harri look, it's not all that
bad. See the happy impressed pairs leaving the sands? And there's a
Yellow! It's sure to brighten things up!"

[kireon]

ooc: Tag; ANYONE AND EVERYONE. Warnings: death, intense sadness. Other characters will be tagged in other posts. I CANNOT DO MORE THAN THIS RIGHT NOW.


Yuri knew the instant things went wrong, the Candidates' reactions were undeniable, from sobs to ashen faced, identical looks of shock, he knew the worst had befallen one of his, one of their, charges. Having to wait for permission was difficult, beyond so, especially with the pain of his children so readily apparent on their faces and in the air. Yusk's voice had come out in a strangle warble, tiny and lost in the din as her sensitive mind picked up every subtle to obvious nuance.

Her babies, their babies, they were hurt, and they needed her.

Her man was waiting, like a good man, her best man ever, for the queens to give them leave, so they wouldn't... they wouldn't go away forever too. Yuri spoke quietly with someone in the Healer's portion, quick exchanges of words resulting in a length of cloth being generously donated from somewhere. It would stain, of course, but all things did, even wher hide. But it would give a sense of finality, of privacy to the deceased girl and those who knew her. The pinkrider nice lady was there too, she was coming to help as well, knowing there were injuries out there that needed aid.

Yusk jerked with a gurgling cry in surprise, lowering herself instinctively to her belly at the booming command of the queen, polite as she may have been, she was still big enough that Yusk wouldn't even stand a chance and would be swallowed whole if it so suited the Gold. She trembled a little, and listened. Her voice tiny, small and timid as she acknowledged the command. Yes, Yusk bring her man. Thank you Great One for letting Yusk's go.[/i] She rose from the submissive position instantly, all business and heart as she went to Yuri, interrupting whatever other business he'd been speaking to the healers about with her teeth settling into the belt resting within easy reach- and tugged once. Her eyes were the gray of grieving, desaturating her pale hide as she gave a tiny, sad low. Time go, YuriLove. Time go.[/i]

Her relayed command broke his heart, and the stocky Candidatemaster's mouth tightened, green eyes overbright as he passed a hand over them briefly and sucked in a deep breath. The time for grief was not now; not with all of their beautiful babies out there in need of a display of strength. His face was still taught, lines in his mouth never more apparent than they were at that exact moment as he strode forward from the place he'd been. Matilda, Phaenna, Garund, Naim... those four were eached nudged by Yusk, gently, ever so gently- more of a caress, a promise of visits should they not Impress this time around from the green. He made his way past, each step heavier, more devastating than the next as he grew closer to the still, bloodied form.

So very still, only glimpses yet of reddened, saturated sand between flashes of white and flesh toned legs in their many wonderful shades of humanity, of promise and the future that lay within each and every one of them. Each candidate he passed by recieved some sort of gesture of affection, of reminder from Yusk that not all hope was lost, that they had not been forsaken and abandoned cruelly, lambs to the slaughter. Not all could be judged like this; they were only one part of the equation of Life. Seidon, Idra, Lilianai, Matthaus, all four of them comforted in some manner by the green who made the path for her handler. All six feet of her was trying to radiate calm, her grief displayed in the barest shuffle of her toes in the sands and the grey hues of her eyes.

Each candidate who looked upon her, who met her eyes would catch a brief starbust of green, of blue- and had the touch of the green's mind, familiar to most candidates who'd become acquainted with the wherhandler who served as Candidatemaster. Love and understanding poured through in that burst, and quietly slipped away to continue on to the next mind, the next heart who needed soothing.

Kira received a rub against her hip, a whisper-soft croon of understanding before Ahburn and Inanna too were spoken to in that wordless, loving manner. And, finally, with Risny's wailing in their ears, the three of them reached Orkia. Yusk, attend to Risny. The words were soft, but a command nonetheless. I will take care of Orkia. This one last time. He made way, silently, for Ondine to get past him to Nori, the girl needing dire aid that only she could give until they took her from the sands. The squeeze of her hand against his shoulder was nearly his undoing, and only training, strict, reliable training, kept him from doing more than blinking back the tears yet again.

Yusk attend.[/i] She told him softly, and paced herself to the side, up to where Risny sat. Her neck stretching out to nibble the loose hem and tug on the robes in the familiar manner she almost always greeted the Candidates with, especially when she wanted attention. From there, her delicate snout moved up, a gentle nudge against her hip, and a more insistant one on her elbow to distract her before her voice would come. Baby cries. Yusk cry too, is okay be sad Follow Yusk off sands? Or stay? Ris-by choice, Yusk understand, love anyway. Yusk help up?. She asked gently, always so as was her way.

Stubborn, fiery, full of spirit. She was almost always first in lessons, ten loads of firestone in a one load bag, that one. To compensate for her lack of size, certainly, but- she just... looked so small. Her hair fallen in her face, stained by the lifeblood that'd poured from her. Pale, and so very thin. Her eyes were open, confusion a distant shadow on her face as she stared, empty and no longer within the shell that was her body, to that which none else could.

Yuri knelt, legs feeling the same as a newly hatched dragonet's and twice as heavy as the largest of Queens as the damp sand seeped into the thick cloth against his knees. With a snap and flourish quite unusual for a man of his general appearance, the large, white sheet of cloth snapped out like the sail of a dragon's wing and settled quickly upon the still form of his candidate. I'm sorry. He thought to the girl, though she would hear him no more.

She would hear no one, and none her ever again.

Warmth hit his hands, dotted the shroud as he gently closed her eyes for the final time and lifted the death-heavy body enough to wrap the billowing remnants beneath and around her, as if she were being shielded from the cold or the rain when there was no reason, no rain to be sheltered from. She was lifted completely after that, and cradled as if she were merely exhausted, sleeping, and just needing to be tucked into bed. Her chin dipped, hiding the ruined expanse of her throat from sight beneath the shroud, as he tucked her against his chest and shoulders protectively, and inclined his head in Callistath's direction gratefully. His mouth was set in a hard, grieving line, and his cheeks were wet with tears that would not be restrained. Yusk, come.

Yusk looked to her babies forlornly, head ducking down from her comfort attempts all around, she'd gone from Risny to Kiaja in that short span of time. She looked to the rest and lowered her head nearly to the sands in sadness. Babies need time? Come with Yusk. Sit, still be here, just not here here. She informed them timidly, if any needed to leave, there were no rules stating they couldn't. Others had left in the past, if only because they needed to recollect themselves and sit the remainder out.

Others... wanted to be with family, or friends.

She caught up with Yuri swiftly enough as he began to walk back to the Healer's section of the sands, and looked up at him worriedly. He was crying, her man always wept silently while she made the noises for him. She nosed a hand that poked out of the stained white cloth, nudging it up until she was nearly on hind-legs to poke it back under completely. YuriLove?[/i] She inquired uneasily, innocently. Bring baby home?[/i]

It was hard to squeeze anything past the solid lump in his throat as he closed his eyes, passing by the candidates one by one. "Yes." he managed, choked up and voice hoarse, rough and thick with tears as they finally, finally cleared the still massive crowd of white robes and armor. His vision was blurred, thick with tears much in the way his voice was as he reached the Healers' pit.

"Yes, my little love. We're bringing our baby home."[/size]

[Minute]

It was bad, had been bad for a while, but up until now Kahrie had been ignoring the maulings of those that were not her for the most part. However, eventually there reached a point where you just couldn’t ignore your surroundings anymore. For her that came in the form of Orika and her deadly mauling. She was first alerted by the screams and panicked cries behind her and a little ways to the side, perhaps a tad louder than they had been moments before. It was almost lazily that she turned around to look, only to stiffen in horror at what she saw. There was a girl, looking to be only a few turns younger than her, lying on the ground with her throat torn open.

Despite how brave she liked to think she was Kahrie found herself rooted to the spot, watching as the life faded from this girl before her eyes. While it was true that she did not particularly care about people other than herself she didn’t want to see people die. And that the person was a girl standing at a dual hatching, her life torn from her by a creature that she maybe hadn’t even wanted to stand for? Somehow that made it so much worse. This was one of those rare occasions that she found herself wishing that she could do something, anything, to stop it. But as she watched this girl that she didn’t even know pass away she knew that there was nothing.

Even when the life had been gone from Orika’s body for several minutes she found herself unable to turn away. Even when the yellow came and ran into the boy beside her. However, the return of the dark wher changed that. He lunged at another candidate, a young girl this time, and her screams caused Kahrie to whirl back around. The wher jumped off of her and ran off, but not before the damage had been done. The girl was in shreds, blood rapidly leaving her body. A boy ran over to her, a boy that she assumed had some connection to her even though she didn’t know how exactly. It was as he wrapped her in cloth and talked to her that she finally started to step forward, unable to let another person die right beside her without even trying to do anything.

Perhaps her first words weren’t exactly the most soothing considering the situation. “She’s bleeding out, you know. If she doesn’t get off the sands there’s every chance that she’ll end up like the girl over there, by the look of her.” This was followed by a quick, jerky gesture in the direction of Orika’s body, which seemed to be in the process of getting cleared out. The look on her face softened as she crouched down beside the girl, reaching her hands forward to apply pressure to the makeshift bandages on her wounds despite not having been asked and maybe not wanted.

“We’ll have to move you,” she murmured, although she wasn’t sure that the girl could hear her at this point. “I’m no healer, and something tells me he isn’t either. This is… a lot of blood, and if you don’t reach the proper healers it will only get worse.” This was followed by a pointed look at Ranthian, holding her and telling her that things were alright would not make it so. But it was also probably apparent that she would help, and that was something, right?

[Reky]

Yusk, almost, made her feel sadder. She thought that she had overcome most of it; that she had shed her sorrow so quickly and that now she was just tired and sore, but Yusk made her realize that she hadn't. The green's gentle voice and touch roused her. Risny's brow furrowed and her lips quivered into a small, sad line, and she felt tears prickle in her eyes again. She ducked her forehead against Yusk's muzzle, trying to not look as Yuri lifted Orkia into his arms.

"I'll stay," she whispered. "I don't really want to move..." And she didn't really think that she could. Carefully, though, she braced herself against the loving green and found her feet. Standing, all of a sudden, was a laborious task. She didn't want to do it, but... she would be okay. Yusk was right. As long as she could just stay still, and calm, and not get knocked down again, Risny was pretty sure she would be alright. She searched for Ildn and Lagha in her head and found them asleep, which was a small comfort.

"Bye, Yusk," she said quietly.

[/blockquote]

[princesal]

It was horrific. It was a scene out of his worst nightmares, and brought out the anxiety of inner demons. She's too young, she's too young, not for turns. She won't stand for turns to come. Oh Faranth. They're all too young."They're so young. Oh... oh they're too young." Blue eyes couldn't stop looking away... and it felt like he was suffocating. His chest felt tight, and his eyes darted from candidate to candidate, looking at them all, trying to find the Holdless children, trying to find them all. "[You can't save them all.] No, no, not all, can't save all. I could save some. [What are you going to do, Harri? Bring them back to the Islands?] ... [What are you new?! They're not yours! They were never yours!] I know, but... but if they don't Impress. [Yeah? And what if they don't? You aren't their father, you can't tell them to do anything.] I know, but maybe there is something. I don't know if I can take th- [Shards have it Harri! They aren't yours!]"

It only occurred to him that Hand was yelling at this point. Looking over at Sol, there was a strange expression on his face, no... it was the eyes. Haunted. They made him look so much older, held so much pain, so many shadows that weren't just the trick of the dim light. Like a switch was flipped though, the expression disappeared, and he gave the cyan rider a tired smile. "Sorry Sol. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to cause a scene. It's the stress, Hand can become a bit more volatile. I guess I'm a bit possessive on the children that were on the Islands." Hand stayed, curiously, quiet. Though possibly the closed fist had something to do with it.

Looking back at the Sands, he saw the girl fall... saw her not moving. She would never move again. Harri felt like he had just been slapped. The psychosomatic smell of blood filled his nose, and he felt like this was all wrong. Running a trembling hand through his hair, a dark little voice whispered to him that this would be a perfect time. Go on, do it. Just run onto the Sands, and try to get them off of them. The worst that can happen is you getting ripped to shreds. Not that bad. Do it. Do it. Do it.

"[If I was down there, I'd make sure that no one else gets hurt. I'd be able to. I can stare down danger!] You don't have eyes. Those are my knuckles you'd be using. [Ohhhh.... so Suuuuddeeennlllly it's YOUR Hand? Yeah, take a look in the mirror, friend.]" Harri frowned at Hand, who took it at this moment to twist it's fingers around to look back down at the sands. "[Hail Hail Armlandia! Skin, tissue and bone! Hail Hail Armlandia. We can hold our own!] Please stop. [With wrists a twist, and thumbprints a new, and fingers all entwined.] That's really insensitive. [With nails of pearl, and hair's of fine, and wrinkles all the way through!] It's not funny. [Oh Hail Hail Armlandia! It's all we ever knew! Haaaiiilll Haiiilll Arm-lllaaannnn-dddiiii-aaaaa. Hand pride through and thrroouuuggghhhh!!]"

It didn't stop, did it. How were they not mobbed yet. Harri put a hand over his mouth, and shook his head. He felt completely mortified right now. He was sure that his face was so flushed that he was sure someone was going to think a red dragon had hatched unnoticed and escaped into the stands. It broke the utter fear of what was going on, on the sands though. And when Sol grabbed his attention again, showing him the Yellow, Harri actually looked.

"[Oh my digits! That is a yellow! We've never seen a yellow!!]" Harri nodded, admitting it. They really had never seen a yellow. It was... it was kind. It was such a sudden change of temperament, the yellow seemed to be trying to comfort others, rubbing against them happily. It didn't strike or lash out, and then finally impressed. It's claws and muzzle had not sought out blood. It made him able to breath... and there were still so many eggs to hatch. There was still an overwhelming need to trying to protect the children he had tried to call his, but it wasn't the encompassing fear, the nerves. "What will happen to her? [I'm going to guess bringing her Between. That way if there was a dragon or a wher that was hers, their souls will be able to meet again.] That was beau- [Take a look at that green wher! hahahaha! It looks like it's deflated! Hahaha! Quick, someone blow it back up! Hahaha!] ... I... I don't know what to say, Sol. I think I'm going to end up apologizing a lot more..."

Now that he located most of the Island children on the Sands, he started seeking out those he knew in the Stands. The most immediate and obvious was Joshu, who seemed to be reacting to what was going on with the same extreme emotions. Should he go say something? Harri felt nervousness form in his stomach, he didn't know what he would say, or even if he'd be a welcomed face. So instead, he reached down with his other hand, and took Sol's again. "I'm sorry for our words. I'm just worried. [It comes with the title.]" Harri didn't say which title that was, but someone was probably starting to piece together that it was Father.

[lee]

Braele stood, silent, and stepped back to her place. The crusty wounds on her legs pounded, her head ached from the scrabble of talons poising to leap, and she silently counted the remaining eggs to herself with none of the excitement a candidate, with the hope one of them might contain a partner, should have. Who had left the sands? She counted them quietly in her mind, tall enough to tilt her gaze and see them a. Not as many as she would have thought. Niorun, still alive. Pyrus, claimed by the blue. Otto, who had returned. Orkia, gone. And soon, perhaps, the dark-haired girl in the front row.

She remembered a little black, a sad cry and a blink between.

Would those hatchlings, still sleeping in their shells, have partners at all to find when they at last escaped?

--

"Make all of this worse?" Joshu's voice cracked, incredulous, breathless. How, by Faranth's shattered shell, could it be worse? The battered body, nearly headless, on the sands. The limping, mangled form that had tried to leave the sands, carried away by the quick white wher. His sister, his sister, and Ranthian, twin stains and swirls of crimson. Five. Five robes remained white, untouched. Of nearly seventy. He couldn't think. There was no room for thought in the black rage that gripped his chest and squeezed to bursting, the fury, murderous and hot, choking. In that moment, he could have killed the bronzerider, could have raised his hands like curled claws and torn like a rabid creature, and the formless desire was potent, intoxicating rage, an echo of his father and the long ago crime that had sent the family into the wilderness.

But Joshu was not his father.

His fingers went slack, numb, and he slid to his seat like a shell, still furious, but scrabbling back to sanity best he could. They lived. For now they lived, and that was enough. But they were so far away, and this was so far from over. In despair, he would have the eggs rot. Save the world further destruction. He couldn't see them. He stared ahead but only to see spots, black and red and pulsing in a sick headache of nausea. "Their blood is on your Weyr." it was not his, not now, and if he hissed blasphemy in the croaking voice, it was for the child's tears he could feel like ice in his gut though they were unseen, for the hurts and loss he could not prevent and was not allowed to ease. It wasn't over. Their lives were still precarious, precious things, and talons, claws and teeth still waited, unseen, to tear at them. "Your Weyr, and your foolish, incompetent, coddling queens."

He no longer hoped for Impression, no longer wished the babies to find his brothers, his sisters. He willed the hatchlings not see them at all, leave them in peace, and leave them--Faranth!--their lives.

tag: T'yandon

[Cathaline]

Jazz touched Weslieth's mind, and he told Ranthian and Norilana, Someone will come to help you.[/i] From there it was easy to touch Agnith, and Delilah nodded to N'yn.

"You keep working here." She was a journeyman now. No longer an apprentice. Her first hatching as a journeyman...and that meant being willing to do the hard things, like walking onto those gory sands. She did see that the dark wher, whatever it was, had Impressed; that might help. Might. It was far from the only one who had been causing trouble. Gathering up a kit of supplies, she strode onto the sands, past Yuri and Yusk getting the body, circling round to the front to kneel by Norilana and her brothers.

By now, Kalesk was there. The icy blue wher got shoved aside, and she told Yusk, Help if needed.[/i] But the little Candidatemaster seemed to have everything under control, for now, so Kalesk remained in front of the bleeding girl.

Delilah grabbed a wad of absorbent bandages and pressed them tightly to the gashes. "This will hurt, but we must stem the bloodflow," she told Norilana. "We're going to get you off the sands, okay? If your dragon or wher is here, they will find you. We have a wher back there right now, in fact, so don't worry. Try to breathe deeply and focus on something other than the pain. Would you like Agnith to tell you a story?"

----

Dairine was dizzy with pain and terror. This was like nothing she'd ever experienced; she was no stranger to rubbing her hands raw on ropes, to bracing herself against a storm, but storms did not have teeth. She lifted a trembling hand and blinked blood out of her eyes, her stomach heaving.

Through clenched teeth, she told Eithne, "No. Not staying." Apart from the fact that she was about to be sick, she would do no good to the dragonets like this. Anyone who touched her mind right now might die of shock. Taking the bit of fabric from the girl, she managed a lopsided, unhappy smile and pressed it to the nasty gashes on her head. She bowed once, fast, to Callistath. Couldn't manage one for Kalesk - not because she disrespected the gold wher who had birthed all this trouble, but because merely doing so for the gold dragon almost overset her.

Turning, she staggered off the sands and into the healing area.

---

Newt couldn't breathe. He couldn't. He'd felt the little black wher in his mind - a ghost of a presence, testing before moving on, but still too close for comfort. Why was he here? He wasn't ready for another Newsk - he wasn't ready to risk another Newsk, to risk having that undefinable love and presence torn away a second time. They'd all tried to tell him, hadn't they. Inrahim, Audren, Kalenna, the Candidatemasters. They'd all tried to tell him and he'd said he was fine, that it hadn't been a completed bond, that he'd die rather than miss this hatching...

He might die on these sands.

Orkia was dead. Ordinarily Newt would have been watching. Whers had done it, after all. Glorious creatures, and he still thought so, but he had little stomach today for their predatory violence. The dead wheret wasn't far from where he stood. The dead girl wasn't far either. He ignored the scratches on his arm (now, not that he knew it yet, called Rask) and focused on the hot metal arm of the mangled glasses in his right hand. Letorin's fingers were curled into his, a solid and welcoming presence.

"I should go," Newt breathed, but he made no move to actually leave, and ignored Yusk completely, for once in his miserable life. The biggest egg hadn't even hatched yet - or the smallest. He knew what both of those sizes might mean and he was desperate to see them, to snatch some sense of scientific victory out of the jaws of this nightmare. His eyes were glued on the smallest egg. Maybe a gray or a white. He'd noticed it being smaller than the small one next to it, noticed the black that came out of that one. But it could be an exceptionally small black, too, and if a third black joined the fray...

Or if the other one came back...

Or if Letorin Impressed. His grip tightened again. If Letorin Impressed and left him here alone...

---

The black wher watched Hirman, and did not startle easily - or at all. He'd come here for help. He understood that it might hurt a little more to get it, and that was all right; being patched up was the important thing. Still, he was not totally stoic, breathing heavily. Pain was only a physical sensation, but a very real one, with very real effects. One could not control one's reaction to these things, and it was silly to even try.

Snuggling into the blanket, the wheret gazed at his healer a little longer, and then said calmly, Suture fast.[/i] It was decidedly not an Impression, not even close - the hollow words fell with precision, totally void of emotion. At least they were a good sign, though. A wher who intended to go wild, was destined to go wild, would not have bothered to dredge up the words.

(Tags: N'yn, Yuri, Norilana/Ranthian/Lanorun, Eithne, Letorin, HIRMAN)

[Zephyr]

((Tags
Addy; Sora/Yusk/ORKIA
Kai & Sho; Unath/Ghols/Sandr
Mouse; Gennesk/Saosk))

Adelaide swallowed the pain. It was coming back now that the adrenaline was fading from her system. But it wasn’t bad. What was a crushed hand when so many other people were bleeding and even dying…she gulped as she eyed Orkia’s body. She didn’t know the girl at all, but she’d seen her around. Such a feisty little girl. Addy trembled, blood smearing her arms and robes, but she didn’t care. She offered Sora a thankful little smile, no words though…for once, because she couldn’t find the words. It was strange for a girl so happy, with the right turn of phrase or joke to defuse the situation.

There was nothing she could say.

Her eyes dart to Sora as the girl muttered Orkia’s name and as she took a step forward, Addy reached out to hold onto Sora’s arm. She didn’t know why. She wouldn’t have been able to keep the other girl here with just the force of one hand, but it didn’t come to that and Sora stopped anyway. She didn’t know what the candidate was feeling. It was hard to imagine the crotchety girl with any friends…but people did surprise you when you least expected it.

It wasn’t healthy…the way Sora was dealing, and Adelaide suspected that this was how she always dealt. Biting her lip, she thought of something, anything to say to make things better, but no words came. She just let her hand fall, cradling her injured one to her chest as she took stock of what was going on around them. The ruin and despair. Fear and death were sticky on the air, and the smell of blood was making her sick.

“We need to focus.” Adelaide whispered hoarsely, not really believing her own conviction when her words were hollow and broken. The words were as much to herself and anyone who bothered to hear her as they were to Sora. They were relatively unharmed, and could still stand and there was no way they were getting out of this, so it was best to focus on the positive…even if she couldn’t see it...but she was touched by Yusk's concern as the wher weaved through the candidates on her way to Orkia, but she wasn't that badly injured. She would stay, thanks.

Even though it wouldn’t make anything better, Addy turned away from Sora and stared resolutely at the nest, pointedly not looking at Orkia’s body or the cyan smeared with her blood. “I’m sorry.” The words were to Sora, no doubt, and Addy doubted the girl would even appreciate them…but she was sorry, and not saying it didn’t seem like an option.

Adelaide wasn’t just sorry for Sora. She was sorry for anyone bleeding, anyone injured badly or dealing with Orkia’s death, and she was sorry for those who might yet not make it.

No one deserves this.

But as long as the hatchlings are okay.

---

I’ll try, but you know how stubborn he is. Shobhaith grumbled to Sandr, knowing full well that the kid did know how how stubborn K’ius was. And you’re awfully demanding, you know that, right? He whined into the boy’s mind, even though Sandr had other things to worry about at the moment than Shobhaith’s grumbling.

And soon, Sho would have other things to worry about. He had no idea that flirting with a tan would lead to him becoming one’s mattress. But that’s what happened when one of the tans in the middle was suddenly in front of him and Shobhaith stared back at her intently for a minute, trying to match her creepy stare. Then he gaped as her mouth opened and she just sat there.

He didn’t know exactly what was going on or what she wanted of him, but he slowly opened his mouth, confused. What was she…? Then she grabbed him and Shobhaith gave an indignant yowl, not unlike the sound that a stray cat would make. He ruffled defensively, but relaxed when her teeth didn’t sink in any further. He was still young, and the tan was an adult…it wasn’t hard for her to drag him along in her wake, but okay, he moved with her so that she didn’t dislocate his head or something.

That would ruin his day.

The purple just went along with it when she flipped him over and then all but sat on him. Better than getting himself hurt, because she seemed pretty damn intent on pulling him over. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, on his back underneath all the tans, but it wasn’t the very worst place he could be, and even if it had been a little odd, he would never complain about being in such a lovely lady’s attentions.

Amusement twinkling in his eyes, he snaked his neck up to delicately lick the underside of Unath’s chin wiggling only once under her weight. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? The pickup line was terrible and deliberately goofy and Shobhaith beamed beneath the tan. The sun and stars can’t begin to compare to the loveliness that I’ve been graced with.

It was stupidly goofy and pointless to be flirting when candidates were bloody and dying beneath them, but Shobhaith couldn’t help any of them. He was only concerned with his boy, and in extension, one candidate, but they were both fine, and he was stull beneath Unath, so he decided to make the best of his situation.

Kai, below, was still tense…but things didn’t seem to be escalating, for Sandr at least. His fingers were still wrapped around the bar, knuckles white, but none of the hatchlings were going for his friend, so he let himself relax a little. He let the tension go muscle by muscle, and was about to fall back onto the bench, as stiff as a board, when a familiar and unwelcome whine came from behind him and long arms snaked around his neck, and K’ius completely froze.

He hadn’t moved this entire time, only flinching visibly at her words as she shouted them out to Sandr. “He was not!” Kai hissed defensively, batting Ghols away from around his neck, his face the perfect picture of grumpiness. He gave a defeated sigh when she made it clear that she intended to stick around, even though in K’ius’ current mood, he had no patience to entertain her. The purplerider almost didn’t want to answer her question, hoping that if he ignored her, she’ll go away…but that didn’t happen.

“The hatchlings are evil monsters.” He grumped at her, as if that was all the explanation she needed…but somehow he knew it wasn’t, so he kept talking. “They’re mauling everyone in sight. One girl is dead.” Nope, that hadn’t escaped his notice, even through his intense worry. “A couple girls are as good as dead,” He snorted, letting his gaze rake the sands. “And one boy lost his hand. He impressed though.” There were relatively few impressions for how many eggs there were and how many people were injured out there.

It was a bloodbath, and Kai found his gaze shifting to Sandr, worried that he was reliving D’ren’s death and hoping fervently that he wasn’t paying too much attention to what was going on around him. He knew about the other boy’s issue with blood. Shobhaith and Arcuth’s hatchings were goddamn tame in comparison.

---

The child wasn’t exactly pleased with Gennesk’s judgment. The girl was convinced that hugs would make everything better. She was her own little yellow dragon, and if she could just get down there and cuddle the poor candidates and the babies, everything would be okay, but Gennesk was keeping her close, and even as he told her that death in a hatching was normal, Mouse couldn’t find it in her to be okay with it. She was pale and shaking, not liking what was going on.

The girl had never seen much blood in her life, so seeing so much of it at once was definitely jarring, to say the least. Even if she didn’t know what so much blood meant and she couldn’t comprehend the finality of death yet, she knew that blood was a good thing to have inside of you and that having so much of it soaking the sand was not a good thing. And there were girls laid out on the sand, one very bloody and very still and she whimpered into Gennesk’s hide. Is that girl dead?

Her voice was so very small, but she didn’t pull her eyes away…she couldn’t, not when there was something she could do to help, even if Gennesk wouldn’t let her yet. When Saosk grumpily padded over, Mouse shifted over in Gennesk’s embrace to cling to the black, burying her face in his neck. This is a scary hatching. Poor babies. It was scary, and little Mouse was overcome with so many emotions at once that she didn’t know what to feel.

Instead, she peeked out from where her face was still mostly pressed against Saosk’s neck – she’d become very good at avoiding his spines – and pouted a little. I want to help. The words were so pleading, and she tried to impart the earnestness of her words to all three whers around her. She wanted to help soooo much that she couldn’t stand it, but she knew there was nothing she could do…so she sat where she was, still not willing to leave yet.

[mopsy93]

With so much going on it was hard to keep track of all the Impressions let alone react to the death of a fellow candidate or the pair of Green Dragonets as they carefully weaved their way through the crowd unlike many of the other hatchlings. Carissa was equally surprised when the darker of the two said rather bashfully, Um, CarissaMine. Hello. I’m your Junonth. Carissa smiled a bit when Junonth sent her feelings of affection clearly too shy to say it out loud. I hope we can be friends.

Of course we can be friends, after all you are mine just as much I am yours, said Carissa crouching down to be closer to her Dragon. Junonth was still a little too shy to say it directly in words but she transmit a sense of happiness to her newfound rider. Carissa this time talking out loud said, “We’d better get moving we don’t want any of the more aggressive hatchlings to get us.” Seeing worry cross Junonth’s multifaceted eyes Carissa added, “On a lighter note you have to be hungry, it’s been a while since you hatched. And I have another little friend that you should meet.”

I am hungry, agreed Junonth, Carissa smiling a little bit more after finally getting a verbal response from her Dragon giving the shy green a little more confidence in return. If she’s a friend of CarissaMine, then she is a friend to me.

“That’s all I need to here.” With that note the two of them were off heading towards the feeding section, Janvia seeming happier than she had been since the start of the Hatching with her owner off of the sands. Carissa and Junonth arrived in time to hear K’var’s instructions on how to feed the Dragonets, Carissa starting to feed her Dragon as soon as she was able to making sure that Junonth didn’t choke.