Straddle the Line [CalKal Double Hatching!]

[birdi]

Kira tightened her grip on Inanna’s arm, and the other candidate was startled for a brief moment by the gesture, before nodding her head slightly in return. Then one of the other female candidates—Adelaide—came by to ask if they were okay. After confirming that she was just a little sore, Inanna felt a little comforted to know that at the very least, this candidate group was strong. Caring. They’d make it out alive, somehow.

Just had to weather the storm.

After that, everything happened so quickly. There was the good—Impressions, frakking finally! The not-so good; more mean-spirited hatchlings. And then there was the ugly. Inanna winced every time talons clawed into somebody else’s flesh. Still, she thought to herself, still. The healers are doing their jobs—kinda, really they took to sharding long about it, but whatever. At least they’re workin’ now. It’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine.

And then it… wasn’t.

One of the candidates was dead. One of the candidates was dead. Inanna’s face went ashen. She wished she could say surprised, but after all that had happened… no, not surprised. Not that it softened the blow. Not that it provided comfort. She didn’t even know who the girl was, but her blood stained the sands, and Inanna looked away and breathed heavily in through her nose. That and the fingernails she briefly dug into her arm, kept the urge to vomit away.

The candidatemaster and his wher were called in, the information briefly recognized when Yusk came by a moment to give some measure of comfort. Inanna was too numb to react. She felt kind of distant, cold, after the initial response of puking was kept at bay. Try as she might, no difficult swells of emotion rolled through her. Blaming the adrenaline, knowing that her survive or die instincts had kicked in, Inanna shook her head and pressed her lips together, tightly.

It is good that I’m wearing armor, she thought to herself, absently, and nearly laughed. It wasn’t funny. Shards, she must be nervous. She knew her parents were in the stands—Inanna dug her fingers into her arm, again.

I must be brave. I must be strong. Mamma wouldn’t cry, even if her ship got tangled in a storm, even if her men were dyin’ around her. Not gonna happen. I won’t be weak. Not in front of her. Not in front of them.

She straightened up, focused coldly on the unhatched eggs around them, keeping a mental note of where each unbounded dragon or wher was around her. Let’s jest get this over with, then.

~

Hirman tried not to physically show his relief when the wheret spoke to him. One: fantastic, this one probably wouldn’t go feral on him. Always good news. Two: there was a decidedly professional, emotionless quality about the wher, which meant no danger or risk of accidently bonding to the creature while trying to fix it up. So as not to risk offending the creature, Hirman did not smile save for a quick twitch of his lips, before settling into a more neutral expression.

Now that the wound bled less ichor, and the creature was in no danger of falling into shock, Hirman lifted the blanket a little to look at the gashes again. Using a swab of cloth, he cleaned the wound out.

As for stitching, wher hide was tough, but they had the proper materials. The healer took a clean set of tools and began suturing up the gashes. He did not rush, all nervous mannerisms fading away into a professional solemnness, stitching with unshaking fingers in an even-spaced and controlled manner.

Though this was not rushed, it was done rather quickly, and with the sure hands of someone who knew what he was doing. Trying to do something like that otherwise would result in more pain.
As soon as he was done, he swabbed where the talons had ripped, one last time, and nodded briefly to the black wher. “Done.”

So focused had he been during this whole situation, that Hirman hadn’t notice the movement around him. He didn’t hear the gasps of the crowd or pay any attention to how the mood shifted.

He stood up just in time to realize he had missed something. After turning to ask, he was told gravely that one of the candidates had died. Pale and trembling, Hirman’s hand rose to his mouth. He felt terribly sick, though he’d not seen it happen, and afraid. Anger. Anger was there as well, under the turmoil of emotions. What if he hadn’t tended to the wheret? Could anything have been done to save her? Surely… surely something might have been done. He had no idea how the girl had died, but there must have been something, anything, they could have done.

Of course it had been a wher. Hirman’s lips pressed thin. He wasn’t surprised at all, and felt disgusted for treating the little black. What if he went out and took down another candidate? Whers were vicious… but, necessary to the weyr. To Pern. He reminded himself, taking in a breath. You did right. That child you fixed has not killed anyone. Yet.

This news distracted him so much, that initally he did not even recognize there were more patients to work on. However, he soon returned to work, shoving his anger and fear out of his mind in service to the duty he had a responsiblity to carry out.

I'm really sorry if I missed anything!

[Dragonwher]

As he had tried to bury the anger the Healer's attitude had engendered in him; somewhat to Rask's confusion he could feel, Randi tried to focus on what Lyrnn his Wherlingmaster was saying. Nodding mutely when needed as he made sure to pick apart the fish in the bucket to get the little bones out so they didn't stick in Rask's throat. Then, he tried to ignore Lyrnn talking to Teadon; mostly so the healer wouldn't think he was silently gloating or something deadglow-brained like that.

Though he was thinking back to what he'd heard Val say as he'd walked off, as he looked down at the redtinged brown. Even as he thought that other Candidate is probably more right than he knows.... Which made Rask look up from the piece of fish, eyes still a placid whirl but his voice was a bit rough yet Rask heard that. Randiel sighed feeling the sensation of Rask definitely agreeing with Val's sentiments, as well as far too much excitement hearing Lyrnn's mention of 'killer'.

Though Randiel looked up as Lyrnn spoke to him "thats much appreciated Wherlingmaster Lyrnn. Are there many older Wherhandlers with...wrathful Whers that might be able to help me understand Rask better if you are busy with anything?". The slight smile mixed with a twinge of pain as he breathed out would be an attempt to show Randi was making sure he had back up people to talk to so as to not be a bother to Lyrnn. But shards did the cuts sting yet; even if he tried to ignore them in favour of putting more food in Rask's face, albeit slowly.

Then he looked a bit...shamefaced as yet again Rask deliberately broadcast to someone His was talking to. Rask is be think Randi is be good hitter that comment, coupled as it was with the mini memory of Rask having caused mayhem on top of and next to Randi followed by the thwack to his skull was the source of Randi's sudden discomfort. This memory was closed off to Teadon; but left Lyrsk and Lyrnn open to receive it, along with the lack of 'pain' reaction from Rask. Nonetheless Randi looked flatly up at Lyrnn "since I'm pretty sure Rask went and forgot to keep another comment private, I know I likely did wrong decking him but I wasn't quite thinking properly".

Then he winced as he tried to explain why he even entertained that as a good idea "I just let the bit of my Beastcrafter Training take over; thats how some of the older Crafters would deal with an intractable bovine. I won't try that again though...pretty sure I'd break my hand on his skull when he's older if I did". To which Rask responded Randi not be breaking on Rask-face. Ignoring Rask for the moment Randiel nodded on that comment about dragons "I know, I saw that firsthand when my Sister Impressed during the double clutch that gave us a new Copper dragon; so the wildness of dragons isn't unknown to me".

~~~~

Back in the stands Mir fretted as she watched her son head for the healers and feeding area . Luckily for Teadon she couldn't see or hear his...interaction with Randi or he'd get an angry momma wher of a different sort in his face if Mir had anything to say about it. However, even if she couldn't see what was happening to Randi Mir whispered to Andel "you don't think his wounds will fester do you?". Andel smiled at his wife, patting her hand "I'm sure he's in good hands Mir; we'll be able to see him at the Hatching feast like we did Mira and Malinoth". That finally helped her relax though Mir giggled "do you think we'll need to find him nicer clothes? perhaps in more red-brown hues?".

This would have the result of incurring a chuckle in Andel as he looked at the sands "perhaps, but we should wait till a later date; he's still getting used to his new bond after all". Under their slowly becoming cheery banter neither parent wanted to admit they were worried the wheret might lash out from not being sure of their approach with new things.

Malinoth meanwhile, yet again remaining a coccoon of thrumming calm with Mira and her flits at the center; sent a joyous thought to Mira. Mine! that yellow dragon wasn't a mistaken thought; he impressed to a boy down on the sands and now he's safe in the feeding area. This had the hoped for effect of a wave of joy in return from Mira "oh good...so Candidatemaster Jasmine and Weslieth won't be the only male dragon Yellowpair anymore". Then she was lost to a fit of the giggles again as Meridia made an odd razzgiggle combining the two noises she learned from Mira into one. Which caused Malinoth to chuckle in her mind as he heard it. Asher and Nymeria made things 'worse' in somewhat imitating the noises as well.

[Boo]

Although he heard the response from Randiel and tensed when Rask entered his mind, he said nothing back, now that he was working on Pyrus’s injuries. Lyrnn had also chosen to speak with him and although he had assumed a dark look, listening to the wherhandler, he had no response for that man either. Tedaon was willing to be proven wrong but this was wrong. This hatching was wrong and he knew why. The dragon clutch had been fathered by a dragon who was not a part of the Weyr at all and although he wasn’t really sure what this meant, he knew it wasn’t a good thing. His opinion of brown dragons had been shattered long ago in another Flight.

Tedaon forced these thoughts from his mind and then forced a smile. As always, it didn’t reach his eyes at the question asked by Pyrus. As much as he could, he was trying to clean the wounds while he pondered the question.
“It took me a long while,” he replied, bracing the stump of his arm on a bandage as he cleaned one of Pyrus’s wounds, “And sometimes it is very difficult but you have your wher to help you now.”

It may not be much comfort, when he had lost his arm it had taken him a long time to realise exactly what had happened and what it meant but ultimately, it took trial and error. In some strange way, he felt connected to the candidate as though he owed Pyrus something and as such, he would try to see the now wherling through this moment.
“After a while it just becomes natural and you’re able to do just as much as anyone else. Of course, I have difficulty with sutures but most other things I just learned to adapt.”

[/blockquote]

[Nia]

The Brown was watching the two dragonets that had hatched and immediately ducked to hide, sitting where his egg had hatched, the shells still scattered around him. A dark blur came up towards him and began to circle him, still out of view of the Candidates except for the occassional quick glimpse. It prodded against it's brother, limp tail still dragging as it circled, entwining himself with the Brown in the way that only a very long, very skinny dragonet could. The Brown was undeterred by his clutchsibling's attempt to wrap around him, and eventually the dark dragonet ducked back, moving as quickly and as smoothly as a shadow. It bumped heads with the Brown, for it approved of anyone who could withstand creepiness.

As the skeletal, shadowy figure began to slink back through the eggs, allowing a reddish tint to be shown on his darkly colored hide, the largest egg of the clutch had begun to crack. Even the cracks themselves seemed orderly and neat as the egg fell apart. An Iron sat in the remains of his egg, with his metallic sheen making him look eerie in the low light, similar to his mother. He was fairly bulky for an Iron, though his proportions were very neat and orderly. Nothing about him seemed too big or too small, and right from hatching he held himself with a very regal air.

The Iron took a step forward and gave a nod of acknowledgement to his Brown clutchbrother, who merely looked at him with what seemed to be amusement at the Iron's regal posture. He walked forward and almost seemed to scowl at the Candidates and the mayhem that had become them. Awful. What was this? This wasn't order, this wasn't a straight line of Candidates for him to look through. Not to mention that the girls and the boys were all mixed up! He disliked that, so he avoided the Candidates instead walking over to the wher side of the nest. A tiny gray prescense caught him by surprise, and in fact, he nearly stepped on the poor thing. The Iron sat down next to the tiny Gray wher and held out a foot, expecting the little thing to climb on top. They were clearly kindred spirits, both quite interested in order and control. As well as respect, as the Iron was currently showing by allowing the Gray to climb up on his foot.

He went a bit further, though, lifting his front paw up to his nose, so the tiny Gray could climb up and look him in the eyes. Eye contact was important for intelligent conversations. Not to mention that the Gray needed to be able to survey the area completely if he were to assist the Iron in re-ordering the Candidates.

The skeletal dragonet began to circle its similarly mysterious sibling before slinking around the eggs and out into the open, giving the Candidates a very, very brief view of his almost red colored hide before it ducked back in the shadows again. Not for long, though, as soon it was off into the throng of Candidates, appearing as quickly as he disappeared. For a hatchling, it had very good control over his body, and managed not to hit any of the Candidates it quickly weaved through. Through the second row it circled Braele, seeming to laugh at her as it did so. Wasn't it so strange looking? Did she want to know what it was? It moved closer to her, giving a low, draconic noise into her ear as it passed by, moving on to the next one.

It was still too dark for its hide to be fully seen, though as it got to the Candidates it was clear that this dragonet was not normal. Even Avalle and Callistath exchanged looks with each other, a very intense conversation going on in both their minds. Not again. Not at this hatching. It couldn't be.

But the reddish tinted dragonet continued its way through the throng of Candidates, weaving through Imber and Kiaja to reach the spot where Orkia had passed on. He stopped at the stain of blood, lowering himself and closing his eyes, allowing the Candidates to fully see its hide as it mourned the girl's death. It was a dark red in color, and it was not quite as skeletal as its markings lead to believe, though it was very thin. Its tail dragged listlessly behind it, as though it had no control over it, and its claws were long and sharp.

The dragonet finally began to move, avoiding Risny and weaving through Ahburn and Kira, not even sparing either of them a glance. It passed by Caszli and circled Eithne, curling tighter around her with each circle, like a shark closing in on its prey. The skeletal dragonet got as close as it could without touching her, and the tip of its tail flicked as though it were amused. It walked past Lavi without a glance at the girl, though it did pause on Phaenna to give her the same circular shark treatment it'd given Eithne. However, it didn't get nearly as close to her as it did to Eithne, having been distracted by the mind of the girl next to her. It moved close to Matilda, and instead of circling her. Ah. She felt similar. Very similar. They shared a mindset. The skeletal dragonet seemed to like it, and it reached out a clawed foot to push Matilda down, though the hatchling was somewhat weak and it took a good bit of effort and some accidental clawing. It stepped on top of her, calm and meticulous, leaning down and holding its claw clearly above the jugular vein, as though it intended to slice through the prone vein with far more intention than the Blue wher had done.

It stayed like that for a moment, her life in its very sharp claws. But it backed off, seeming satisfied. Before leaving Matilda, it gave her a very quick nuzzle, though it wasn't in apology. It was in approval. It liked her.

The still calm dragonet weaved through Garund, Otto, and Hulair, before it circled back towards Lilianai, Seidon and Idra, weaving through them to stop in front of Matthaus. It probed the boy's mind gently, and moved forward, circling him and letting out a similar, soft, draconic noise into its ear, lifting itself up on its hindquarters to place both front feet on the boy's shoulders. It stared into Matthaus' eyes, a tongue lolling out to lick across its sharp teeth, opening its mouth wide as though it planned to bite Matthaus' head clean off.

Do you know what I am?

[/i] it asked, and while its voice was soft and smooth sounding, it was decidedly male. The dragonet moved closer to Matthaus with its open jaws, I am... your worst nightmare.[/i] He finished, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth in amusement as he snapped his jaws shut inches from Matthaus' nose, chosing instead to almost cheerfully bump noses with the boy instead. Or perhaps not. Was that creepy enough, M'ausOwn? Hehehe....[/i] He dropped to his own feet, curling around the newly named M'aus. You and your Seishiroth can work on it....[/i]

Up with Avalle and Callistath, the realization set in as Callistath reported to her rider that the dragons were male. He was too big to be Black, too small to be Blue. He seemed to be sized right in the Cyan-Green range, which made Avalle groan openly. Why did it have to be now.... Callistath shifted herself in such a way that meant she had something to say, and she sure did. They are male, and they are Burgundy.[/i] In the same style of the Tans, Viridians and Cyans, Callistath announced to everyone gathered, letting them know just what her new children were called. Avalle sighed and pat Callistath's bright golden hide. Maybe this is D'lios' fault too... she muttered to the Gold, who glanced at Perbiath, but didn't respond.

[/blockquote]

SPOILER: Click to show

Burgundy Seishiroth
Personality:
Seishiroth is a bit creepy. He enjoys scaring others and he uses his scary appearance to its fullest. He knows what he looks like and taps into it, complete with the creepy "hehehe" laughter and all. However, despite how creepy he might act, Seishiroth is actually quite a sweet and kind dragon. He can be very gentle, particularly to smaller creatures, as M'aus would know, and loves to be there to comfort. He's sympathetic and understanding, willing to listen to someone rant at him for however long it takes for them to feel better. He's very cuddly as well, although cuddling with him can be a bit uncomfortable with how bony his body is.

Seishiroth does, however, have a bit of a fascination with death. Between interests him greatly, and he kind of pushes the limits on how long one can remain there. He'd never purposely doom himself there, of course, but the idea of others doing it interests him greatly. Human death is also an interesting topic to him, and he tends to take a sort of doctor's stance about it. Death saddens him, of course, he does have empathy, but at the same time it fascinates him. What happens afterwards? Is there anything, or do they simply turn to dust? He'll try to convince M'aus to talk to him abut it (perhaps by using one of his wherries as an example), though he'll back off if he feels that M'aus is starting to get mad or upset about it. With his fascination of death also comes great respect for it, and other things he can't understand. Despite his want to dig into everything to understand it, he'll respect the wishes of M'aus as well as the bodies of the dead.

A generally calm dragon, Seishiroth does have his moments of recklessness. He dislikes remaining stagnant and is always on the look out for some kind of big change that he can make. He's ambitious only because he knows he can make some big, good changes in the Weyr's leadership system. He dislikes patterns and will actively go out of his way to ruin any kind of pattern he comes across. People find safety in patterns, and nothing is creepier than chaos. Seishiroth loves unpredictability and mystery. Life isn't fun if you can predict all the answers, after all.

Appearance:
Seishiroth's hide is a very dark red with a bit of a brown undertone to it. Around his head down to his neck is a patch of a much darker red, with a stripe of the same color contouring his wings to make them look thinner than they actually are. Along his belly and back are ridge-like stripes, making it look like his bones are protruding out. Basically, even his coloring is out to make him look as thin and skeletal as possible.

He is quite thin to begin with, though he has long legs that make him rather tall. He looks like he could be skin and bones, though there is enough muscle in him to allow him to function properly. He isn't the strongest dragon, however, and carrying more than one human would be quite difficult for him. His claws are also very long and sharp, and his tail is incredibly long. He doesn't have much control over his tail, however, and most of the time it drags listlessly behind him. A tall dragon, Seishiroth will grow to be 27 feet.

As Callistath made the announcement and Seishiroth Impressed, the similarly colored egg that had been next to Seishiroth's cracked and split open with a bang. The dragonet inside was bulky and strong looking, and he was also a reddish color. He made no effort to hide himself, allowing the Candidates to see him in his full glory. He was a more dull shade of red, and stomped forward like he had a job to do. For he DID have a job to do. Look at all of them out there. They were all in need of his help, so he could redeem them. They were bad, only this Burgundy could make them good again.

He shoved right into the group of Candidates, through the big open space that Norilana and Ranthian used to occupy. He flat-out ignored Risny as he walked past, chosing instead to look over Adelaide. Arrogance. He felt arrogance. That was wrong, that was bad. He was going to have to beat the arrogance out of her. So he did, charging straight into the girl's stomach to hopefully leave her doubled over in pain. There, he thought as he moved behind her. Now she would think twice about being so arrogant. Pain was the only way to be saved.

He moved past the space where Dairine had been, walking out to the left side of the Candidates. He needed some space from all those bad Candidates. He was too perfect to be in their company for too long. Fresh air was nice. Not for long, though, as soon he barreled into Talubara, for the same reason he'd hit Adelaide. That very same arrogance that he so despised. He toppled Talubara over, stomping on top of the boy with his heavy weight. He jumped up and down, stomping his feet and did all he could to crush Talubara into the ground, and then he was off again, through the crowd of Candidates, searching their minds for anything that offended him.

The blue egg that had been next to Mountebath's began to split with very little energy to it, and out fell a Blue dragonet. He sat up, looked around and yawned. What was everyone so panicky about? They all really just needed to relax and chill out. He was perfectly chill, even with the revelation that his brothers were a new color of dragon. New and weird, huh? Cool.

Meanwhile, the cowering Cyan continued to cower as her angry Burgundy brother moved around her and Risny, and she scooted off to the side as she felt Risny's thoughts. She was sorry! She felt bad enough! Didn't this girl get that!? But rather than maul out of anger, the Cyan ran back towards the eggs out of fear, and she ended up bumping into the still-hiding dragonet. She prodded at it, questioning its weirdness. It was weird. Why was it so weird? Her fear of blood disappeared as she was preoccupied with drilling her weird sibling. Though, it must have said something harsh to her, because the Cyan soon jumpd back and looked even more nervous than before. Her gaze darted to her Iron brother, but she shook her head as though she were clearing it and darted down the left side of the Candidate group, wanting to leave. She ran towards the group of Healers, looking at them and her siblings as though she wanted to be able to join. Please? Pretty please?

However, none of the minds she probed there were Her's, they were all already someone else's! Frustrated, the Cyan ran back, but she stopped and sniffed the air. Oh! Here! Right here! This was Her's. She moved towards Sunita and her sisters, sniffing each of them in turn before falling on Sunita herself and snorting happily at the girl. KahnasunitaMine! Kahnasunita... Kah na su ni ta?

[/i] she tried out her new bonded's name, liking the feeling of it, Ah, is, is that okay? Is it? I'm sorry. Ibith can call you SunitaMine if KahnasunitaMine wants.[/i] She seemed a bit shy as she babbled at her new bonded, Now please, please come with me. I want food. I want to leave. If that's okay....[/i]

[/blockquote]

SPOILER: Click to show

Cyan Ibith
Personality:
Ibith is a very sweet, innocent dragon. She is energetic and fun-loving, always wanting to engage people around in her in some sort of game or activity. She can also be very innocent and naive, as well as gullible. Ibith will believe anything told to her, and she'll go passing this knowledge around like she learned something incredible. It's easy to convince her of anything, and she'll only look to Sunita for reassurance if it's true. Ibith is hesitant about doing things on her own and hates to be lonely, so she'll often ask Sunita questions like, "Is it okay?" "Can I go do this?" "Is it really alright?"

She tends to fret easily and gets nervous often. Ibith apologizes far more than she should, mostly because she tends to feel like everything is her fault. She isn't shy, of course, so when she does get nervous she tends to ramble on and on. Sunita can stop her from her rants with some soothing words, otherwise she'll keep talking until she stops feeling so nervous. It seems like Ibith never runs out of words, and she's a bit prone to spilling Sunita's secrets all over the place. She doesn't really have a mental filter and has a difficult time deciding what's good to say and what isn't.

She isn't dumb, but Ibith is definitely an airhead. She's very headstrong and doesn't think before she barrels right into something. She's also very absentminded and has trouble remembering something important she was supposed to be doing. She uses Sunita as her memory most of the time, and doesn't make too much of an effort to remember it herself. Despite this, she does mean well, and she really loves and cares about Sunita's well-being. She trusts Sunita above all else, even herself.

Appearance:
Ibith is a very dark, very saturated teal-cyan color. She leans a bit more towards blue than towards green, but she is definitely cyan. Her hide is splotched with fireworks of color across her back and neck, though it fades out to a solid dark color by her legs. Her splotches of color are very bright and very obviously cyan. Her hide has a dark, glossy sheen to it, though not as pronounced as her sister's.

Ibith is thin for a Cyan, lacking the usual bulk of her color. Her tail is thin and her wings are small, and her legs are quite thin as well. She doesn't seem to have a lot of muscle on her at all, looking a bit more dainty than anything. Her muzzle is somewhat pointy, as are her headknobs. A very small Cyan, Ibith will only grow to about 28 feet.

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[maruset]

A new color. Lavi started as he walked by her close enough to touch, though he didn't even pause to look at her. Though she hadn't been sure if he hadn't been a red at the time. Though now....

She'd have to play with that color of paint later. Val was sure to let her try.

This hatching was odd, and she grimaced as the dragonet had held his claws against the one candidate's throat. Not they were intentionally messing with candidates? She was already unhappy enough that, of everyone around her, only she and Embla were the only ones who weren't hurt in some way. That was more than a little nervewracking, and she dreaded that it was just going to get worse.

Though the new burgundy had found his partner fast enough, given how long some of the Impressions were taking, and she let out a sigh of relieve.

Every impression was a good one.

***

Letorin was going to have to draw this later. The iron with the gray was actually too amusing to not do. Not to mention rather adorable. And a new color! He tightened his fingers again, almost wiggling in place. But he managed to clamp down on that instinct. Instead, he took in all the details on the new colors he could see.

Though he did glance at Newt, unable to help but flash a bright grin at the other before trying to settle himself down mentally. Too many thoughts, and he needed to focus on being calm.


***

Valasco looked at the dragon as it walked by, aware that he wasn't even anywhere on their mind. But that was a nice color, and he could see Lavi studying it as well. When he found out it was a new color all together and not some odd shade of brown, he grinned. Well, if nothing else, coming to this weyr made things interesting.

***


Iola paused. A moment as she and Jainath both stared. Am I...?

Yes. They really are new.

Not that either of them had anything against new colors, giving Jainath's coloring herself. But it was...unexpected. This was something else that was either going to be mostly ignored or blamed on D'lios, and Iola sighed. She knew that every opinion that fitted with Jainath's own about the man's unfitness to lead the weyr only made the copper more stubborn. And Iola knew that, even if the next flight removed him as weyrleader, D'lios was -still- going to be a Lord Holder.

With a low groan, Iola just hid her face in her hands, more than ready for this hatching to be done.

[Kiran]

Kira watched as the largest egg hatched. An iron, a king. She relaxed for a moment, knowing that there was no way that dragon was for her. Instead, the dragon seemed disturbed by the lines of candidates, rather upset with them it appeared. It went up the line until she couldn't see it anymore. Kira gave a soft sigh. When were the dragonets going to Impress? It had already been a long day, and the hatching had been even longer. Already the sands were stained with blood, and with so many more eggs it was possible that there would be even more.

The sooner the dragonets and wheret's got off the sand, the better.

Then her gaze was caught by something else coming close, weaving among the candidates. She had to squint a bit, trying to figure out what color this one was. A black? No, it was too oddly hued. Kira tilted her head as it paused, and then her eyes widened. It was a red! ... Of a sort. Small, very small for a red, but it seemed to still be in that range, but too dark? It wove it's way around her, not sparing her a second glance. Not for her. Her shoulders slumped slightly. Kira was tired, and a touch disappointed. But it did Impress, and that was a good thing.

The cyan also got up and made its way to hers. It wasn't as eye-catching as the new color dragon, and Kira couldn't believe her luck to be at a hatching with a new color, but she was glad that the cyan fond someone. She sighed. That was a good thing, a very good thing.

[Boo]

This was true. Although these children on the sands were only children, they were not infants like the dragons or whers. Otto’s comment had him considering this a little more closely. However, as Tanair had proven, human infants were not nearly as destructive… Still, the former guard nodded to the other candidate. Things did appear to be getting better. It seemed that the whers and dragons alike were calming down. Perhaps…

He breathed in as a wher neared the stands but it seemed as though the green merely wanted to Impress to someone in the stands. Breathing a sigh of relief when it WASN’T one of his own family, he turned his attention back to the hatching, nodding his head at Otto.

The thought of what would happen if he Impressed and Otto didn’t hadn’t passed his mind but he was sure that he’d want to stick around. How could he just step away from someone who could barely walk? As a dragon candidate, though, would the dragons take note or would they just pass over someone who was so badly injured? He hoped not for the sake of his new comrade.

A hush fell over the crowd as a new dragon hatched and he felt in his mind the announcement.
“Are they new?”
He wasn’t sure whether it was just as uncommon as yellows or grays both of which he had only seen a few times. Burgandys… He’d seen red coloured dragons too but this one was a male? Yeah he was woefully unprepared for any of this, he barely even knew what colour corresponded to what sex…

[/blockquote]

[lee]

It wasn't fear, or anxiousness, even excitement or any of their fanciful cousins that Braele felt as more eggs began to crack. She just felt wary. Sure, it was a relief to have the dark-colored wher off the Sands--Braele had been too far away to see the Impression, so she knew it had happened but not what color the creature had truly turned out to be, and she wasn't about to turn around and look--but that wasn't to say there couldn't be something...well she wouldn't say 'worse' because these creatures were supposedly the saviors of Pern and all that, but, just as deadly, waiting to hatch. And not just from the wher eggs....Braele stood, calm and still, feet shoulder width apart and hands locked behind her, and if a few strands of hair had escaped the harsh bun when she'd had an unexpected visitor atop it, her default expression was cool enough to forget mentioning it... and her eyes went to the dragon eggs. An iron had hatched, and she remembered the last one.

But that, certainly, didn't qualify as a positive thought, and as she turned her thoughts instead to the other eggs, rollicking but unhatched, she found, quite abruptly, something very different to think about.

As the skinny, long-tailed dragonet whipped in a circle around her, Braele's hands unlinked and raised over her waist in automatic reflex. She didn't flinch otherwise, nor step out of place, though she craned her neck in confusion, tried to get a better look. A red? No. Too brown. It was too dark to see. But...awfully small if it was a brown...almost on cue, the thought was followed instantly by a laughing hiss, and this got a sigh of something that may have been exasperation but was probably open to interpretation, and it was gone.

Braele frowned.

But, as far as she could tell, it hadn't injured her. So. There was that.

She turned slightly to watch its progress...and then, slowly, made herself turn again to face the front. The dragonet was not interested in her further--better to keep her attention on those hatchlings who might, because their interest might not be nearly as benign as...had she just been teased? She shook her head ever so slightly, and then, quite suddenly, rocked forward to her toes as though pushed, as a voice boomed in her head like the combined shout of a seafaring crew. It rattled her for a moment, but she recognized the soft blue touch in a moment, and, once she got over the surprise, a single laugh pressed through her lips, a breathy, quiet sound, and a wicked, wry grin tugged on her face for the first time since she had stepped on the Sands. Her eyes sought out the pale blue, with his starry belly, and she didn't wave, but she gave him that rare smile.

And in a moment, another voice entered in her head and her expression sobered, as the question of the little hatchling was answered by the unmistakable tones of the senior queen.

Braele's sole response was to raise an eyebrow slightly.

Huh.

--

Dairine left.

Eithne watched her go, biting her lip briefly as she tried to discern whether the girl needed assistance off or not, but she seemed to have it under control, and Eithne turned her attention back to the front. How long had they stood on the Sands? The heat poured into the thin soles of her borrowed boots--hers had been lost in the wagon--and she took a soft breath as it spread, snaking up her legs to her gut and inciting a shiver from her shoulders to her fingertips. It all just happened so fast. She held her breath as the same wher that had ripped the scalp of the blonde Candidate skirted past her, but it--he?--ignored her, and found his bonded.

She was so distracted watching Rask that she missed...the horrified gasps caught her attention, and confused, she tried to peer through the crowds, but she couldn't see, she was too short. She just knew something horrible had happened, but she didn't know what until...Yuri and Yusk passed, with the cloth covering the tiny body and Eithne went sheet white and swayed on her feet, hands frozen on her side. Was that...she felt frozen. Or rather, she was frozen, she felt nothing, shocked deeper than to core. But the solemn green wher caught her gaze, and Eithne was seized with the sudden urge to throw herself at the green, bury her face against the pale neck and sob her heart out, and a hiccup of one started, but Eithne had never had anyone to cry to, and the sound started her heart again, and warmth seeped back into ice-cold fingers, and she shook her head to the silent invitation, feeling, ridiculously, like it was unfair to leave, she, who was unscratched and untouched, when so many other stayed who were far worse.

She held her breath again as a different sort of hatchling came by, almost close enough to touch....the little yellow looked so bright, and Eithne had never seen that color, not on a dragon, not even in the dyes she sometimes traded for. And a green after that, behind her, both close enough to touch, but neither destined to be her partner. She had almost begun to relax, to think the rest of this hatching might--might!--not be so horrible when--

Sweet sharding skies, what was that!

Eithne gasped, hands flying over her mouth and rising to her toes as she was circled so close by what reminded her only of a wherry circling its prey. Oddly enough, face with the immediate threat, Eithne found (to her surprise, if she had enough capacity to register it) that she was very much of fight side of the flight or fight, and her hands instinctively flew to her belt knife before she realized...

"Oh!" It was an appreciative gasp, a stunned one. Why--he, and it was a he, though how she knew she didn't know, was different, and this surprised her enough to quell the fear, and to realize he wasn't trying to hurt her, but before she could figure out how he was different, he was gone.

Eithne watched him with slack-jawed fascination.

Wasn't he just lovely!

[mopsy93]

Carissa paused in feeding fish piece by piece to Junonth when she heard Callistath’s announcement, “A new colour? Well it looks like Callistath has done it again. She was one of the first Dragons to produce Cyan, Tan, and Viridian Dragons if what I heard was correct after all. Both of them are your clutchmates after all.” Concern crossed her face though moments later when Janvia, still with Carissa’s family in the stands, gave her a slightly blurred image.

The Bigger one is scary,[/color] pointed out Junonth after examining the image herself through their shared bond. The image showed the second larger Burgandy slam into Adelaide which by the looks of things could not just be passed off as Dragonet clumsiness. You know CarissaMine I would not let him do that to you.[/color] This statement made Carissa smile again at the fact that her new found bond mate would do that despite her shyness. You are mine, why should I not do that?[/color]

“Just do not go and pick a fight with a Dragon much larger than you alright?”

Do not worry CarissaMine, I will not.

“Janvia might help you with that, though do not expect her to do it all the time.” Junonth lightened up a little with the mention of the slightly older Green Fire Lizard, sharing a couple of silly images with each other that Carissa couldn’t completely understand but made her smile all the same.

[Minute]

Tag: Anyone and anything with ears

Things hatched and impressed, Garna watched, and as she watched she didn't particularly care. Of the dragons on the sands at the moment the only one she would have been willing to impress was the green, which went off and bonded to some chick that she didn't know. A scowl crossed her face at this. Was this hatching really going to be nothing more than a giant sharding waste of her time? The green wher impressed to a boy from the stands without even pausing to look at her, which only served to worsen her mood. Ever since she had congratulated Dardra for impressing and her own chances of impressing slid down the drain she had been getting moodier and moodier. The gray wher barely even received a passing glance, no way would she impress something that tiny and weak.

The iron was an impressive sight, she had to admit. It even brought a hint of a smile to her face. That was a nice, proper dragon that would go one to impress a boy without a doubt and serve as an example for how things should be in a Weyr.

However, when she caught sight of the hide of another dragonet the small amount of joy that had entered her vanished in an instant. There was a dragon, dark reddish in color, and small, far too small to be a brown. Garna tensed, sensing that something was wrong with this beast but not knowing for sure. Still her lips curled into a snarl. Would a new color dare (as if it had control over what it was) to hatch in front of her!? That couldn't happen, it was wrong, it was sick! Dalibor already had the freak cyans, the false-green viridians, and the idiot tans to deal with, would they really have to deal with some new beast as well?

Then the answer came in the form of Callistath calling out to the candidates. Burgundy, so these beasts were called burgundy. Rage began to boil up inside her and her eye twitched at the sight of seeing it steal a perfectly good candidate. Candidates were not supposed to talk during hatchings, it was made very clear to them, ground into them since day one. If they talked there could be risks, shards, the clutch mothers and hatchlings themselves posed a risk. But Garna had never been very good at judging when an action was risky, and in her current state of anger the ability seemed to leave her completely.

Her voice was loud and carried quite a distance as she exclaimed, "what!? Dalibor already has the men on female dragons, females on males, the freakish women on sub-kings, and that abomination of a male sub-queen rider, does it really need some new color to worry about!? Everyone saw how the tans turned out, what if this one is just as bad!?" Maybe not as hot as it could have been with her but it was more than likely enough to stir the metaphorical pot.

Time to put the 'doom' in doomhatching.

[Digitalis]

Now that a slew of people in front of her had Impressed and moved away from the crowd of candidates, it was easier for Phaenna to make out what was happening in front of her. It was still quite dark, of course, so it wasn't that easy, and she still didn't move from her spot in the back. It would have just made things more confusing, and anyway, it hurt just to stand there, much less walk. She could make out the form of a pale blue wher, though, and she watched as he moved through the candidates.

There was also a green wherling, puffing herself up and heading right into the throng of candidates. She weaved among them, inspecting several of the remaining candidates, but the green didn't seem satisfied with any of them. Finally, after a short argument with the blue, the green was off, heading into the stands and demanding her handler come down. A stands Impression--that was rather strange, but sort of nice, too. The green surely had to be a pleasant surprise to her new handler.

There was a slight pause before the next egg broke open, but Phaenna was surprised and pleased to see a tiny but healthy gray come out of it. She'd thought it might have been a dud egg. She watched the gray wher for a bit, and she didn't even notice the egg hatching in Callistath's clutch. Things were calm and quiet on the sands for the moment, and Phaenna cherished the peace while it lasted.

Dimly, indistinctly, she caught a glimpse of some dark hatchling circling the brown, but it was the largest, grey egg that immediately arrested her attention, for it was cracking open. The egg fell apart, and beyond the rows of candidates, Phaenna could see the iron hatchling sitting within the remains of the shell. She smiled. It was a fine-looking king, and she hoped he would find his rider without any trouble. Although the iron didn't seem to be in any hurry to bond, actually, and instead he strode over to the wher clutch to inspect the gray. Phaenna smiled again at the sight of the large dragonet lifting up the tiny wher. It was rather cute.

She couldn't keep looking at the iron, though. A dark reddish blur was moving among the candidates, and a few it even circled carefully around, as though trying to intimidate them, before moving on. The strange hatchling was making its way to the back of the crowd, and Phaenna's back straightened stiffly as it circled around her as well. Only now was it close enough for her to get a better glimpse of it. The dark color of its hide was not due to just the dim lights, and it was clearly tinted a deep red, almost the color of dried blood. The hatchling was very long and thin, though, and it seemed quite small for a brown or red. What was it?

Then the dark hatchling was moving on, although she winced and stared worriedly when it knocked over the girl beside her, hovering over her as though it was going to slit her throat. It passed on without harming her, fortunately. A few more candidates received similar treatments from the reddish-colored dragon, before it settled on a rider. Phaenna was still staring at the strangely-colored dragon, and apparently she wasn't the only one. Her eyes widened when she heard the explanation from the Senior Queen. A totally new color? Now?

The girl's gaze went back to the clutch and the similarly-colored burgundy hatchling. They looked to be about the size of a green or cyan, but male. Perhaps they were as common as the other fighter colors as well, at least in this clutch. Only time would tell if future clutches would throw burgundies as well. The newest burgundy wasted no time, going straight to the candidates and pushing past several of them. He headbutted one girl in the stomach before moving on, and a boy received similar treatment from the male hatchling, although, by the standards of this hatching, that was fairly tame behavior. The burgundy was still searching for a rider, and a blue had recently hatched as well, but it was the cyan who was the next to Impress. She sniffed and studied the candidates shyly until she came to a girl Phaenna didn't recognize but nonetheless Impressed the hatchling.

--------------------------

Tamren spared the occasional glance at the blue wher, since it was coming closer to him, but as long as it didn't attack him--or worse, try to Impress him--he was content to ignore it. His attention was still focused on the dragon eggs. He couldn't help noticing the green wherling that prowled through the ranks of the candidates, and he was glad when she found her handler and got herself off of the sands. He didn't even notice the gray wher hatch--he was looking at Callistath's clutch, where a dark, mysterious hatchling broke free of its egg and immediately went to hide from sight among its siblings. Well, that was strange.

His gaze shifted from the new hatchling, to the brown (why hadn't it Impressed yet?), and then to the long, slithery form that was circling its brother. Stupid, dim lights, it was so hard to see anything! Tamren couldn't tell if the hatchling was a reddish-toned black, or perhaps a very small brown or red. It didn't look like a normal red, or brown, but you never knew. However, then Callistath's largest egg began to crack, and the mysterious hatchling was, for the moment, forgotten.

The grey shell of the egg fell apart around the hatchling, and Tamren let out a short cheer before he remembered he was supposed to be quiet on the hatching sands. He couldn't help his excitement, though; it was a large, stately-looking iron, just as he'd thought and hoped. Now if he could just draw his attention...

Tamren watched as the iron stepped forward, apparently looking out at the candidates, and it didn't seem pleased with what it found. He wasn't sure what the problem was, exactly, but Tamren was sure the hatching sands were a mess, with all the chaos that had been going on before. To Tamren's disappointment, the iron turned away from the candidates and went over to the wher clutch instead, coming face to face with a tiny gray wher (when had that hatched?) and offering it his paw.

The scene was oddly touching, Tamren thought, and then he started sending every warm, positive thought he could think of at the iron, hoping it would turn his way. The brown was practically forgotten, now that there was an even bigger prize on the sands, and the strangely reddish-colored male didn't even cross his mind until it was walking through and circling several of the candidates. After a few more minutes of searching, the strange dragonet apparently Impressed, and Tamren's eyebrows rose in surprise when he heard Callistath's announcement.

A burgundy, huh? And it was a male, too, apparently. He wondered how big that dragon would get, and if it would perhaps rival the iron and bronze dragons in size...Tamren rather doubted it, though. It was significantly smaller than the iron hatchling, and skinny as well. He didn't think the burgundy was a good match for him, although the sheer novelty of it was interesting. In fact, another burgundy hatchling was already climbing out of one of the other eggs, and Tamren eyed it curiously. It wasn't long before he started ignoring it, as well as the cyan that soon Impressed, and turned his attention back to that iron.

[RavenSong]

"Thank you, Kida," Lyr said quietly, bustling her child on out of the Hatching Cavern. That was certainly enough of that.

---

P'ryt wrapped an arm around Hanei, leaning his head down to ask her if she also wanted to leave, that there was no shame in leaving given the sheer amount of blood. He'd bundled her off once before, prior to his earning the rank of Weyrleader, but as Weyrleader he couldn't leave with her. He left the choice entirely up to her.

He let go of Hanei as Tareniss turned to verbally attack, gesturing to her.

"My own child has stood for Dragons and Impressed," he said. "A dragonet clawed her and I had to restrain myself from swooping in and bundling her off to safety. I'm holdbred, not weyrbred, I understand this pain. The brownrider who just left understands that pain too, his daughter just had her throat torn out by that large-headed wheret. I've seen many bloody Hatchings, but none as bad as this I'll admit. Those who wanted to stand solely for Dragons are closer to the Dragons, but given the fact that we cannot regulate the breeding cycles of Queens, this coincidence occurred. They were all warned that they are now dual Candidates. There is no shame at all in Impressing a Wher. Whers are as important to the Weyr as Dragons are. And if they didn't want to Impress a Wher at all, they could've opted out of this Hatching. Faranth knows we'll have plenty more. Weyrwoman Rayna is correct. They chose to Stand because they wanted to protect our beholden Holds. The girl will be mourned, the Candidates remaining will be under the loving care of our Candidatemasters, the new Weyrlings will be under the care of a Weyrlingmaster who is himself a father. All will be well. It was simply her time to go. Tell me. Who on the Sands are you here for? You look too young to have a child on the Sands." He hoped she took the compliment for what it was, hoped it diffused her anger at the proceedings somewhat.

The announcement of the Burgundies made P'ryt's brows rise. He turned toward Rayna.

"Well this is an interesting development," he said to her. "I wonder how this will pan out."

---

In Z'dyn's arms, Naraevhyn gave a soft sigh.

"I am keeping it all within," she said quietly. "I cannot think positively right now, even with the Yellow out there. Even with Simhath pleading. I will remain unless a rampaging wheret comes this way. If one does, we are leaving. You are not a Weyrleader. You do not have to stay." She went silent and just clung to Z'dyn, not looking anywhere but at one of his arms.

NARAMINE LOOK! Simhath screeched at Nara, shortening her name in an uncharacteristic manner. That definitely got the Greenrider's attention. She jumped a mile, green eyes going to the Sands.

I see... what am I seeing, my heart? Then she heard Callistath and blinked several times.

"Burgundies," Naras mused aloud, unconsciously echoing Naraevhyn's thoughts.

"It would seem you finally got the event you desired," Nara said.

"Somewhat. It certainly throws a wrench in my song, hm?" Naras grinned and looked back to the sands. "I'll have to write a separate one."

---

N'yn nodded to Delilah, grinning his dorky grin despite all the pain and suffering and such around him. Someone needed to keep morale up, and he was developing his bedside manner.

He helped Tamarine back into the feeding area, nodding to Tamarisk as he set about tending her wounds. He sanitized his hands with a proper amount of redwort before carefully irrigating sand out of the scratches.

"This'll sting," he warned. "But I can stitch you pretty well. I'm awesome at sutures. If you want, Vyna can come help. She's awesome at sutures too. We're pretty much the best ever, our dad's a Healer." He grinned at his twin sister before numbing Tamarine up with numbweed. He then got started on stitching up the scratches, going as swiftly as he dared. He used small stitches, being careful to try and minimize scarring. "Who's your bonded?" he asked conversationally.

MyN'yn, we have new brothers, Eidukth said.

What? N'yn asked. Callistath's announcement drew a shocked expression from the Apprentice healer.

"Well then!" he said cheerfully. "That... sorta... kinda balances everything, I think. Sorta. Not really. But hey, Burgundies, that's amazing."

---

Seph glanced at Kerke once he and N'yn had Tamarine safely ensconced in the feeding and healing area.

"Yeah... we can stand here," he said distractedly, looking toward the Sands again. Good. Lili and Seidon were mostly unharmed. They were still on their feet, still Standing. "By Faranth, two of you dragonets had better be for them," he muttered, willing that thought towards the eggs.

The arrival of the Burgundies floored him.

What did that spell? Who would they pick? Ahhh, one Burgundy picked one person, the other stayed out. He relaxed... there was less blood flowing, Lili and Seidon were okay, the ones with the worst wounds were going to be okay... at least he hoped so, in Niorun's case, surely nothing else would go wrong.

---

Cambyses had remained silent through the Hatching, watching the bloodbath with a pained expression. The loss of Orkia made him frown. His lips pressed into a thin line and he squeezed Samara's hand gently, then patted Valdis' shoulder.

"I'm sorry, child, this is definitely not the most... pleasant introduction to Hatchings at Dalibor. They're all interesting. They're simply not this interesting most of the time. Considerably less blood. I think the next one will be less chaotic. This is the first time in the history of Dalibor that wherets and dragonets have hatched together, I think that is the reason for all the chaos. Are you okay, Valdis? Do you need to step out for some air? You can take Marcus with you if you'd like to step outside. Riders have vacated, no one will think less of you if you do too." He gave Valdis a kind smile. Marcus chirped cheerfully at her, crawling down Cambyses to his lap. The loyal purple offered her a claw, asking if he could help her with a few short images.

[RhiaBlack]

Lili did her best to keep her jaw from falling on the sands. A...what? A new color, she couldn't....she just...WOW! Her eyes widened, and she tried to maintain her composure. It was -gorgeous-. It was the prettiest red color she had ever seen...

She bit her lower lip. They hadn't taught them about those in Candidate lessons. She didn't even know what to think about them, aside from they were the prettiest things she'd ever laid her eyes on. All of Callistath's babies were gorgeous. Just...absolutely gorgeous.

Lili did her best to keep an orderly line, though she remained close to Seidon. She wasn't about to let anyone or anything hurt her friend. Her Seph's brother. She did her best to not think about the death. The dismemberments, the blood, the sadness. There were still eggs, Dragonets, and Wherets out there. There were still babies that needed positive reinforcement, that needed a lifemate and bonded. And she had to be positive. Maybe one of them was for her, maybe. She prayed Sora, Kira, and Seidon would get theirs; she wanted so desperately to see her friends happy. They had done so much for her, it was only fair that fate would reward them. Kindness done is returned tenfold, hadn't her father said?

She inhaled slowly, and bit her lower lip as she laced her fingers together behind her.

::Your babies are gorgeous, Gold Callistath. I feel so lucky to be standing for such an amazing clutch. Thank you so much for the chance.::

Lili wasn't sure if the Gold could hear her, but she offered it up anyways. It seemed only respectful, since she had spoken to them all. Lili curled her toes against her sandals, gently dusting off the back of her robes, from the sand that clung there from where she'd been knocked down.

Up in the stands, N'tharon had finally settled back into his seat. No, he couldn't leave here, not now. Not with this new color. Curiosity killed the cat, and satisfaction brought him back. He had to know about these Burgandys.

Leaning on his knees with his elbows, he laced his fingers together and observed. The loss of the girl was sad. Very sad. He was grateful it wasn't Matilda or one of the others he had seen around - spoken to, in some cases - but the loss of life was never easy to take. And it looked like she was taking it a little rough, but then again he could simply be reading her wrong. His brows furrowed slightly. Something to inquire later, perhaps, if she Impressed. If not, he was sure he'd find her in the workrooms again sometime. He walked often in the Lower Caverns, after all.

Jyderin's gaze remained focused on Sora. The introverted girl was a worry for him - she had doubted herself so severely, and it had taken work to make her see that she was not as worthless as she believed. He sincerely hoped that a Dragon would prove his words true, and show her that many more than just the Master Tanner thought as highly of her.

Time would tell, and stars willing, they would all see.

[Maggie]

G'lin had backed away from the hatching somewhat. It was difficult to watch. Everything was red and violent and strongly reminded him of why he had originally been reluctant to Stand for whers. He looked up at the ledge where Anablimyth was watching, flanked by Enciath and Nesdeth. Nesdeth was looming like some kind of draconic vulture over the two of them, watching the sands with a morbidly curious expresion. Anablimyth seemed very upset that he was no longer big enough to curl up with his rider, flitt-like. He had instead wrapped himself around Enciath. Nesdeth had half extended a wing to protect the both of them. He gave the weyrling copperrider a wan smile. "Yeah. It has been. It is." He frowned down at the sand, cocking his head. "Ana is already planning what colours he's going to try and foist on the new burgandyriders so that they look good with their dragons," he offered, trying any attempt at humour.

***

Tamarine sighed in relief as the numbweed took away the pain. "This is Tamarisk," she said proudly, beaming at the cyan who was still glaring daggers at Rask. "This is Tamarisk. She's a little loud and she doesn't like Rask much," she admitted, although she was smiling fondly. "But she's a determined, spirited little thing." She paused, looking down at her leg. "Stitch away, I'm used to it. Got my leg damaged in a cave-in a few Turns back, this is nothing. Worth it since I got Tamarisk."

RASK IS PAY! NO HURT TAMRI-MINE! she shouted, including N'yn and Vyna in the conversation. HEALERS NO HURT TAMRI-MINE! TAMARISK SUPERVISE! The cyan puffed herseslf up and strutted parade-style closer to her handler's leg. She glared up at the healers, ready to bite or slash if they did anything wrong. Tamarine reached down to stroke her head. Tamarisk didn't stand down, still glaring menacingly.

[Cathaline]

The dragon in hiding was just gathering his courage to step out and display himself when Ibith came round the side of the eggs, and called him weird. Taken aback, he listened in cold silence for a short time, and then snapped viciously at her. It was a horrid, harsh insult, but it did the trick; she stumbled off, and the dragonet peeked out after her, rather satisfied with himself.

Feeling harassed and insecure, he stepped out from behind the egg, his burgundy hide gleaming. There were dark, sharply-delineated streaks on his legs, and he brooded along the side, over to where the gray wher was solemnly chatting with the iron dragon. The burgundy had nearly reached them when the girl directly before him went off like an anachronistic gunshot.

Bad. Abominations. The burgundy snarled, claws digging into the sand. It was everything he had feared he would be called, laid out in gloriously awful words. The gray wher's head whipped around, his gaze boring into Garna, and he said, for the burgundy's and iron's ears only, How dare?[/i]

Behind the nest, Callistath was shifting, and the burgundy turned to look up at her. Don't worry, Mom. I got this. After all, with the gray wher's tacit approval, why should he bother to hold back? This child, this stupid, uncivil child was insufferable, arrogant, mean-spirited, and irresponsible. She would never make for a good dragonrider. She needed to be -

Run out. Make order.[/i]

Instantly, the burgundy leapt, claws extended. Unlike the tiny whers, who had mostly gotten lucky that candidates were forbidden to fight back, he was more than a match for a human, even at his hatchling size. Bearing her to the ground, he snapped his jaws in her face, raking his claws down her arms. He considered stomping hard enough to break her pelvis, then reconsidered and squirmed under her, forcing her back to her feet with ruthless violence.

She would go. She would go now, or he would slaughter her where she stood. Nobody wanted her here - not the whers, not the dragons, not the people. Especially not Callistath. Garna could consider herself lucky he'd stepped in before his dam could, because Callistath would have broken every bone in her disrespectful body. He started to push her, putting all his muscle into it, slamming his shoulders into her back. If she wouldn't run, if she didn't run, then he would force her through the group of candidates, no matter how long it took, no matter how much effort.

On the opposite side of the sands, the black wheret shook off the blanket and started out of the feeding pen, pausing to glance back at Hirman. Gratitude,[/i] he offered, and paused to examine Dairine and Niorun and several healers before he trotted back out to the sands to continue his mission.

The mission appeared to be staring deep into the souls of every single candidate, all several dozen of them, making eye contact if they would look at him. Embla. Lavi. Phaenna. Matilda. Garund. Naim. Otto. Hulair. Valasco. Jaedrellyn, Maal, and Draolor, skirting the large empty space where, just as he passed, the burgundy dragon knocked Garna to her knees and then stuck his head under her arm to lever her up again. Then the black wher hit Quellyn and Inrahim, Kazynn and Awnia, and then realised he had already looked at Tius, what seemed like a lifetime ago: he had made his way back to the front of the nest at last.

The burgundy dragonet shoved Garna forcibly past Otto, knocked her down once more, and then stomped down hard to break her leg. She would not be coming back. If she had a dragon in this clutch, it could come find her broken body by the healers. The "abomination" had spoken more clearly than a Candidatemaster would have: one way or another, she was not a candidate anymore. And good riddance, in his opinion. If he had been capable, he would have spat on her, but as it was, he simply turned, gave a regal and stiff nod to the horrified candidates in the back row, and slinked back into their midst.

Just following orders.

The one who had given the order, the little gray wher, watched all this as best he could from the iron dragonet's nose, and passed comment on it. He still wished they could line the candidates up properly, and gave a small lament at the fact that it would be terribly improper to try to speak to them about their rude disorder.

The burgundy came across his like-colored brother amongst the candidates, and was taken aback when he received a sterling compliment on his neat handling of the situation. Something that the other burgundy said - perhaps about how he'd helped out Talubara by nearly crushing him - put Garna's attacker off, and he hissed at the jerk who was his slightly-younger brother. Whisking away, he stormed back up to the front and stopped in front of the iron and the gray, big and small, and basked in their shared approval.

At least somebody here liked him.

Somehow, the burgundy did not realise that all this time, he'd had a shadow. Not even an especially dark shadow, but the pale, pale blue wheret, stalking after him with fascination. The blue was rather disappointed when the burgundy did not actually put Garna down, and crouched near her head, staring into her eyes. Would the pupils dilate or contract with pain? What if he did this? He poked her in one of her wounds with his claw, examined the reaction, and then started when his stomach rumbled.

Oh. Right.

He'd spent a long time on the blood-soaked sands, but now it was time to go. He sniffed around the injured Otto for a minute, and was affronted by the boy's general positive outlook. With delicate precision, he slashed Otto's face, narrowly - and deliberately - missing his eye. A warning, only. To grow up and see that the world was cold and beautiful.

Unlike Jossk, in a rush to prove herself right, the icy wher took his time. He found a path into the stands and mounted the stairs with little, exhausting leaps. Finally he reached the appropriate row and strolled along it, and curled up on Naras's shoe. Of course he was up at the top. Of course he was. His mind received a thorough investigation while the blue caught his breath, and then he said, No want sing? Why? Good hatching. Best hatching. Strange mind, Naras. Strange mind. Joy not needed for good song.[/i] The blue wher had a strange mind too, and he clicked firmly into place like there were slots built just for him. Narask hungry. Tired and hungry.[/i]

Blue NARASK, Impressed to NARAS

SPOILER: Click to show

Narask has no temper to speak of; in every respect he is clinical, calm, reasonable. He is eminently unemotional, viewing passion and intensity as unhelpful and distracting. Morbid and fascinated by death, he claims to be unafraid of the unknown beyond this life, though the truth is, he’d do anything to protect Naras, the only person for whom he feels a scrap of real (though buried) affection. Everyone else is viewed through the lens of how useful they can be; he’d only risk his own skin if he believed the person he was rescuing would be of assistance in the future. In everything he does, he is precise: his manner of speaking, his preferred method of combat, delicate and surgical. He is calculating, always aware of the situation around him, and will often mention how easy it would be to kill a bystander if they turned out to be a threat. He becomes frustrated with those whose conversation goes around in circles, but he never snaps; he just freezes them out. He believes everything has its place and time, and is unbothered by unexpected developments. There could be a leader lurking somewhere in his icy heart, but his inability to empathize with others will be detrimental; fortunately, as a Harper, Naras brings the goods on dealing with human beings.

Narask’s pale blue hide is carved with delicate, darker lines and outcroppings, their fractal tracings marking him uniquely, like a snowflake. He is about average-size for his color, strongly built. His hide is especially tough, and his claws exceptionally sharp. (C6E2FF)

The black wheret, in the meantime, was listening to the chatter between the iron, the gray, and the burgundy. One of them - no telling who - said something that shocked him. Something confusing. Something...metaphorical. The black wher's mind ticked like clockwork, and one of the self-employed police of the sands had just thrown a wrench in. Turning, he strode right back into the group of candidates, his tail aching, and started right back down the line. Joni. Braele. Imber. Kiaja. Kiaja received a very long look as the black probed into his feelings about his sister's death - very long indeed.

The orange egg on the left side of Kalesk's nest had been mostly still, to this point, giving only the occasional rustle to show it was alive and kicking. It had been a long time since the last twitch, but when it broke, it shattered in all directions as a huge green - well, huge for a baby wher - barreled out into the middle of the nest, already roaring. Then she paused, blinking in the unaccustomed light of the glows, and looked around in confusion. Wait a second.

Where was she?

She turned around. WHERE DID THE EGG GO? THE EGG WAS GONE! She bugled in alarm and rushed back to nose around the sand, snuffling. Her form was huge and hulking, muscular, and she at last sat down right where the egg had been, utterly baffled. Where could it be?

What was she looking for again?

Slowly, it came to her. Food. That's what she was looking for. She went haring off in a random direction - into Callistath's nest, where she practically bulldozed the poor, lazy blue. Fortunately, she was too small to fully trample him, but the feel of his hide under her feet distracted her long enough for her to notice the white-and-red robes. The burning hunger in her belly was forgotten, and she charged madly into them like a wild rhinoceros. Despite her tiny size, she had more than enough speed and power, and she knocked Aleksandr down and stepped on his face, barely noticing the crunch his nose made under her paw. She had less momentum when she staggered into Tamren's legs, and though she would succeed in badly bruising his shins, she ended up on the ground panting at his feet, and blinked up at him, startled. Whoa, wait. Where did this guy come from? She looked back over her shoulder and gave a questioning chirp. What was that other guy doing on the floor?

[Raining]

(mild blood I suppose =P)

He finally got a handle on himself, feeling really really wherry-brained about it sort of helped, as well as focusing on other things -- ignoring everything else. Though his stance was still pretty stiff since most of his muscles were tense, and the color slowly started to return to his face, but not completely. His need to bolt off the sands was finally smothered underneath his stubborn attitude and pride (which came back with the color of his face).

Aleksandr watched the red.. no.. what?

Callistath's voice was suddenly in his head right on queue, and his interest was recaptured. Burgundy? A new color? He fought to keep the sudden smile off his face. If anything even a new color of dragon shouldn't feel so fantastic right now... after everything. But it was good news, and Sandr would like to consider himself an optimist of sorts -- and it helped slow his racing heart and calm his breathing.

Though the moment passed as Garna decided to speak up. His gaze snapped to her, as her voice carried -- not very happy either. His eyes widened, and he almost wanted to walk over there and shut her up for her own good. Callistath looked as though she was ready to do something... but another odd colored dr- uhh burgundy dragon took up that mantle for her.

His eyes squeezed shut as he looked away quickly, he didn't need to see, he didn't care to watch. But the burgundy dragonet was removing Garna from the sands altogether. He wasn't sure if that was a preferred way about that... then again... Callistath punishing her probably would have been a lot worse.

He heard scuffling in the sand, and he looked up just in time to see a green wheret charge at him. His eyes widened and he shifted himself to dodge her... but he didn't have to momentum before she slammed into him. As his back hit the sands, he could clearly hear the crunch of cartilage as his nose was crushed under her small, deceptively powerful stomp. The hiss of pain was mixed with a strangled cry that he tried to muffle, instantly -- hands to his face. One breath in, had him suddenly choking on the blood that rushed back. He scrambled to his hands and knees sputtering out blood.

His vision definitely swam that time as he stared at the sands, said dirt burning his palms. He was fine, he was fine... 'get upgetup' he told himself, as he stood on his feet swaying slightly. His pulse was back up, and it now hurt to breath through his nose on top of it throbbing as more blood rushed to attempt to fix what was disturbed.

His fists were clenched, as he dug fingernails into his palm. It was enough to keep him there, grounded. If anything... he was still super surprised at the strength those little things had when they got going.

[Kestrel]

Amidst all the chaos raging on the darkened hatching sands, Caszli stood stone-faced in her assigned spot. She was no stranger to this sort of atmosphere—blood, terror, confusion, and even death had been eerie neighbors of hers in the past, though much less so since her family had left the northern continent for the west. If she had one advantage over any of the candidates, it was that she had seen danger and tragedy before, and expected to see such things again, at any time—even at a hatching. But despite her outward appearance of calm, even she couldn’t be entirely unfazed—standing in the midst of such an all-out bloodbath was a new experience even for her, and it was a considerable struggle to keep herself rooted in place and keep the circling fear from overtaking her mind. Serves you right, Caszli, she thought to herself as she looked around at the bleeding candidates all around her. What, did you really think they took your holdless self in to be a candidate? Nah, the lot of you are lunch. Shoulda done the little terrors a favor and seasoned yourself up good first.

Of course, she wasn’t serious—just a sad attempt at a joke to keep herself calm. After all, a lot of her fellow holdless had impressed already, in this hatching and others, to dragons and whers alike. That was why she had to stand her ground and keep her mind open, like that wherry-brained yellowrider had said to. She’d never get a dragon otherwise—and she needed a dragon. As just another holdless thief, she could do little more for her family than try to bring a bit more food to the table—but as a dragonrider, she would see that they got proper protection from threadfall, even if she had to do it herself.

Still, it was hard. At least in the various catastrophes, both major and minor, that she had been through before, she had been more or less free to do what she wanted. To defend herself. Yet even something that seemed such a basic right, such a primal law of the world, had been forbidden to her, in no uncertain terms. She was all too conscious of the knife she had been instructed to carry—for wher impressions, they said. It seemed almost cruel of the candidatemasters to give them all weapons but not allow their use, sending them all in helpless in their white robes, like so many little white lambs lining up before the waking beasts. The armor she wore beneath her robe was another cruel joke—how easily the whers, even as babies, figured out just how to pull it off, to expose soft flesh to their ravaging claws.

It had taken everything she had not to reach for that knife when Pyrus was attacked right beside her, and again when the wretched monster had come back around, as though ready to attack again—though at least it had impressed instead, to one of those healer girls. She was glad it hadn’t impressed her—now that it had picked one of the others, she was free to hate it forever for attacking her family. Though perhaps, she thought, she might give the cyan a chance, if only because the twins had helped Pyrus. She was grateful to them for that—she knew a little first aid, but it was a relief that an actual healer apprentice had stepped in instead.

At least she herself had suffered little so far but a petulant stomp to the foot from that other green, the little brat. It still ached, but compared to what most of the others seemed to be getting, she was downright lucky. She almost had to smile sadly as she looked out at the scores of candidates bleeding into their robes—children of Pern, if you could see your hatching dreams now. This was no dream—it was a downright nightmare. Caszli almost had to take some sad satisfaction in that—another win for pessimism.

Still, not all the dragons and whers seemed quite so bad—not yet, anyway. The brown had been around for some time without causing any trouble, and that other black wher seemed okay, from what she had seen. The gray wher, too. She wasn’t so sure about these strange new reddish fellows—burgundies, was it? A bit of a mouthful, but better than ‘viridian’, she supposed. If it was her she just would have called them ‘rusty’ or something equally simple. The appearance of a new mutation was certainly an interesting event to witness, and she didn’t dislike them simply for being new—but one of them looked to be a bully from the start, another had attacked one of the female candidates, and the impressed one had clearly been threatening, if not outright violent. But still, he had not actually done much to hurt anyone, and as for Garna, well, the girl did have it coming after that staggeringly stupid outburst. It could have been much worse, if one of the much larger clutchmothers had taken offense. Well, that meant only one out of three was being actively violent without provocation, so Caszli supposed she’d reserve judgment on them for now. She went back to scanning the eggs, looking for any new hatchlings that might come wiggling out.

[Boo]

History had just been made and, like Naras, Naanell had been in the middle of it. Naanesk standing before her, muscles bunched and growling softly at the whers on the sands. It reminded His all too much about his own hatching in which his siblings had attacked her. Although the apprentice harper was on edge, she would not leave. Hatchings at Dalibor were important for history was constantly in the making. Although the refrains were sad in some parts but happy in others, she knew this was important.
Bad eggs. Many bad eggs. Naanesk protect. No like bad eggs. Bad mate, bad eggs.

Naanell couldn’t help thinking something similar to her wher bonded as they were in their minds. She was sure that something was wrong with these eggs, something bad had happened to each and every one of them. Although the pair were seated near the back she could see the colour moving amongst the red on the sands and watched as the burgundy shoved over one of the candidates, the girl who had spoken out about the hatchings.

“Well I’m sure Fort would take her,” Naanell practically sneered, folding her arms.
Fort, that bastion of… Lower intelligence. Yes, Garna would be welcomed there with open arms for comments such as that. The handler was actually far more concerned about the violence on the sands enacted by the browns, blues and all the other creatures. That was a problem, a farce that should have really been fixed.

[/blockquote]

[turkoizdog]

Zynn wasn't normally one to coo at cute things, but seeing the gray wher climb onto the iron almost made him want to. The two looked very regal, like together they could rule everyone. Zynn knew there was no chance of him impressing a dragon (he was far too old) but he knew that if he had his pick, he would pick the iron, and not even because of his rank either.

The gray and the iron seemed very ordered, hell bent on keeping all the candidates in line, and looking around, he could see why. Perhaps if they had hatched before the violent and clumsy dragons and whers, things would have gone smoother. They would have, hopefully, kept their siblings in order, and maybe the death and many of the maulings wouldn't have occurred.

Of course, he didn't blame them. He didn't blame anyone for what had happened on the sands. Thread happens. And hey, even the murderous ones had bonded, and would probably make their bondeds very happy. Most likely, they had bonded to those with less murderous tendencies, like the cyan dragon to the healer, people who could teach them to control themselves.

The new color was a surprise, but he supposed Dalibor natives would be a little more used to it than he. Having only moved here for his candidacy a couple of turns ago, he had some trouble getting used to all the strange new colors that were originating in Dalibor. He knew some holds didn't like it (Fort came to mind) but he didn't really care. With dragons, it was more or less all the same to him. The burgundies still seemed to be violent and threatening, just like any other dragon. So what did it matter that their hide was a different color?

The strange blue wher dashed off to the stands, climbing up to impress. Well, that was the second wher stands impression... did whers just have a thing for stands impressions? Or was it just because there was no age restriction, as there was for dragons? He had always noticed that those in the stands tended to be parents and rider, rarely children of candidate age, though today he noticed two or three with their mothers. How sad, that they had come to see a spectacular, rare double gold hatching, and instead found themselves wincing at the sea of blood.

The girl who had screamed about the burgundy was doomed from the start, that much he knew. Dragons were violent, prideful creatures, this one particularly so. What did surprise him, however, was that the attack burgundy immediately returned to the iron and gray couple, as if he was doing their bidding. While he didn't feel the burgundy's actions were wrong -- he could see the burgundy wasn't so much trying to kill her as he was trying to scare her into leaving -- it did make him wonder. The iron and gray were obsessed with order, an idea Zynn could agree with, and tried to maintain. Mauling candidates, however, seemed to take it a bit far, and was sort of counterproductive.

In all this mess, Zynn almost didn't notice the black and the green. The green he noticed only when she bowled over a candidate on the far side -- another wher who was more clumsy than malicious -- and would never have even thought about the black returning to the sands had he not stopped right in front of Zynn, stared a bit, and then moved on. While Zynn appreciated that the black took time to inspect every candidate, he was slightly saddened by another rejection, and saddened again at the thought that maybe the black would not find his match here. It had been searching for so long, and still nothing. Sort of like how he felt for being a candidate going on three turns now.

****************************************************

Pyrus listened to what Tedaon said about learning to adapt to the lost hand. Yes, he would have Pyrusk to help, and though it would be hard, he would get through it. He wanted to ask the healer if he had ever had a dragon on wher, but he knew that if the answer was yes, it was a very personal one. As a kid, he had learned people went crazy after losing a bonded, and though Tedaon seemed pretty sane, he didn't want to be too sure. After all, that old Harper lady who claimed to be an ex-goldrider seemed sane too, but she had so many felines and so few friends that it sort of made him wonder.

Pyrusk help! Very good, very strong. Want help Pyrus better! The voice in his mind took some getting used to, but it made Pyrus smile. He never had anyone he felt he was really close to, but here was a wher who had vowed to never leave his side. The feeling was everything he dreamed it would be. A lifetime companion.

Pyrus turned to Tedaon with a smile. "Thank you." he said simply. Not just for the healing, but for the words. It meant so much more coming from him than it would have from anyone else.

[Rappu]

TW bloodgore

Dalahirath squealed. She stretched her neck as far as it would go towards the sands, dangerously teetering on the ledge. AnaMine, do you see that?
And what is this? It seems Dalibor has acquired a new colour! What a night! It is very red! I wonder how big the one - no, two newcomers will grow!
She memorized the images of both burgundy dragonets and strained to broadcast them as far as possible, to as many people as possible.
Analucia glanced up in her dragon's direction with a little smile. Her eyes and cheeks were still wet.
Do not overly tire yourself, darling. You are doing a fine job as it is.
Allowing Dalahirath to comment on what was going on felt interesting. The pink searched both of them for words, and she could feel her grow more confident giving out her opinion, too. Dalahirath clearly enjoyed it. She was in the know, and hatchings were public events, so the pink wouldn't reveal actual secrets.

Garna's voice rang out, and Dalahirath's ears caught her words as surely as if she has shouted them in the stands. Analucia shook her head. Wasn't Garna from Fort? She would have to have a chat with the girl. Behaviour like that brought shame to the whole Hold and Weyr. Tut-tutting under her breath, Analucia told Dalahirath to not repeat what Garna had said.

Quellyn was still clearly scared, but at least he had kind of responded. Draolor took it as a good sign and managed an encouraging smile. "Yeah, and look! That little grey wher is pretty cute, huh? Bet you could fit it in your pocket. An' look, half of the babies have already impressed..." Including the mean ones like the brown killer. Draolor concentrated on positive thoughts, thoughts about Rocky and Calamity, and--
A candle lit in his mind. "Hey, Quellyn. You don't have to be scared 'cause I'm here." He let the words sink in. "My ma and da are dragons an' if things get worse they'll come get us." Another brave smile. He pointed towards the stands. "See, Barahath is bigger than all the whers." Saying it was as much for his own comfort as it was for Quellyn's, really, but Draolor didn't want to show he was scared. A weyrling had died in the hatching To'kku had Impressed and To'kku had made it out okay, right?

A black wher crept up to him, giving the boy a start. Its eyes were kind of like a dragon's, speckled and shiny. A shiver went up Draolor's spine. He stared nervously into the wher's eyes, trying to look brave.

Kerke groaned at Seph's distracted response, but the terrifying glare from Calmera kept him from running to the sands. Kersk snorted at his handler. Want to get eaten? Sit down on bench. The man groaned again. "Not you too, Kersk!"

Kersk poked Yusk's side. Kersk can help. Yusk need help? Healers need help? Kersk can press on wound and clean with rag. The blue sniffed at the closest patient's leg with an air of a confident surgeon.

M'dag hugged Nurmi to his chest, heart racing. Hatchings were usually nerve-wracking enough as it was, but with whers they were at least three times as terrifying. He kept his eyes and mind shut from the drama below and Dalahirath's broadcast of it, peeking only every once in a while.
Barahath, for his part, watched with interest. He told M'dag silly jokes about whers changing glowbaskets and crossing the road.

The world had turned into a blur of heat, noise and throbbing pain. Ksenna was dully aware of Yusk walking on the sands, of a new colour hatching and Impressing, but it all felt distant. She had lost a lot of blood from her leg injuries, as her femoral arteries had been nicked around the knees.
She looked up at the cave's ceiling... The world, already dream-like, turned upside down and dark. She fainted on the Sands, barely missing Joni as she fell.

[OOC Tag Quellyn and anyone]

[Chimera]

OOC: Warning for some blood and gore references.
Why did they come here? Lanorun should've been more persistent, more determined, and they wouldn't be in this cacophony of blood and screams. He could take some injury, but Nori and even the strong Ran were his charges to protect, and he would not fail at protecting his younger, innocent siblings. Joshu would hopefully be safe in the Stands. He tensed as two squabbling whers approached, the evil little black crawling up to his shoulder, staring down at Nori. Lanorun stared into his little sister's eyes in an effort to negate the wheret's fear-causing ways. Scarcely a moment had passed when inn a rush, a blue knocked him down with surprising strength for a baby wher. Lanorun wasn't seriously hurt, but got up as quickly as he could, brushing the hot sand off of his face and torso to avoid any burns, once he'd recovered his breath.

He didn't say anything, only offering a stare and a gesture to his vertical position that he was all right. It would take more than that, much more, to break the tough man.

At last there was quiet again, and Lanorun stayed still.

Until the dark, red-brown wher decided mauling Norilana was a good idea.

The wher Candidate roared "STOP!" at the wheret, but no sound came out of his mouth. He lurched forward, but it was too late. All he'd worked for, the reason he barely came along here, was gone. The girl who didn't deserve any of this chaos was attacked, and Lanorun was boiling with fury and had he not had a certain level of self-restraint, he would've gone berserk right there and then on the sands, somewhat like Ranthian was doing right now. His younger brother had gotten scratched up himself by the dark wher in an effort to scrape him off of Nori.

He watched in raging silence, head pounding and his body so overwhelmed with adrenaline it felt frozen and was hard to move, as Ranthian took Norilana away. This was the Weyr's fault. He stood there, wanted to run to Ran and Nori, but his legs were rooted into the Sands, so heavy they seemed to be connected to the layer of stone beneath the surface. He'd run if he could, but some terrible feeling told him to stay.

And he made what the candidate would call a mistake, of turning and seeing a spot of bright green. A wheret of bright green color, suspiciously close to Joshu.

Too close. She walked next to Joshu, and the voice of his brother that he'd heard - or more accurately, the words he managed to pick up - made sense.

No.

No, this was not happening. They were not being trapped here for a turn and a half because of the sibling who had no knowledge of Candidacy or its lessons.

It was happening.

Lanorun looked like he was about to clutch himself. He was in pain, of all kinds. His hip was slashed but he had barely noticed. Joshu was a wherling, and he'd initially been upset, but he didn't even know anymore.

He whipped his gaze back to his sister and brohter, slowly marching over to them in the Healers' Area, leaving his place in the Candidates' area of the Sands. The wher candidate was careful not to trample any hatchling - or Candidate, as he went.

He failed his purpose of coming along with his siblings to a place which housed the people he loathed. He didn't protect them well enough. Norilana was severely bleeding, and Ran was hurt too. Lanorun had tried to protect him, but he was too slow. All he could do was hope, or glare menacingly at the Healers to speed them up with the less important cases.

At the corner of one eye, the wher Candidate saw something happen with - Orkia?

Orkia? She was lying on the ground, not moving. And there were sobbing noises.

She was dead. The short, spunky Candidate that Lanorun had not so long ago danced with at the Candidate party, the cheerful, confident, admittedly fun (even to Lanorun, though he'd never actually say it), was gone. An innocent youth gone, because of this.

That was it. Everything blurred and vanished in his vision, except the reds and greens of blood and ichor, and some noises could still be heard. The burgundies, the other hatchlings, all of them became distant specks and splotches. He couldn't deal with all of this at once. Couldn't. All Lanorun knew at the moment was a primal feeling, to keep his siblings safe from any further harm. The rest of everything - the hatching included - tuned out of his consciousness.

((Note: Lanorun stands in the Candidate area, once Joshu Impresses, he goes over to Norilana and Ranthian in the Healers' Area. If something doesn't make sense I'll be glad to fix it!))

((Tags: Ranthian, Norilana, Joshu, Healers, pretty much anyone involved I'm missing. Sorry if I missed anything, I will be sure to go back and fix this if you notice anything I missed! Dardranel and Lirmox posts will be later.))

[Cathaline]

A candidate has fainted. Over on the right,[/i] Weslieth told the healers immediately.

All this time, Delilah had been working to staunch the bloodflow from Norilana's injuries, and at last she told Ondine, "Time for sutures?" The yellow's sweet voice made her wince. Not another one. Not another one. Beckoning an apprentice over, she said, "I'm going out again. Agnith?"

Agnith responded immediately by trying to connect to the blacked-out void of Ksenna's mind. Hellooooo? Ksenna, are you there? Can you hear me? Come toward my voice! Nothing, my Delilah - [/i] But she kept trying and trying, as Delilah left Norilana in quite capable hands, wiping the blood off of her own on her sodden pants as she ran, slipping and sliding, through the sand and into the group of candidates, fingers crossed she wouldn't end up mauled too.

The girl had lost plenty of blood - no wonder she'd passed out. Delilah knelt and jerked out a couple rolls of bandages, and tied tight tourniquets on the girl's legs before applying pressure. She had to wait for assistance to arrive, a stretcher, and she unhooked her canteen from her belt and drizzled water on Ksenna's face. Between that and Agnith's cajoling voice, maybe they could bring her back? Shards, she really hoped so. The injuries didn't seem fatal, thank goodness, but it would be far easier to move her if she was conscious and compliant, able to lean on Delilah's shoulder to escape rather than having to be carried, putting multiple healers in danger as well.

[Rappu]

Ksenna floated through darkness and warmth. It couldn't have been Between, for she was almost hot and comfortable. Between was supposed to be cold, wasn't it? Somewhere far away, a voice echoed her name. A cheerful, inhuman voice. It felt beckoning, somehow. But! There was something important she had to do. Something she couldn't remember. She only knew that it was important. She had to find something, right? Right. Left. Put your right foot forwards, put your left foot up, do something, do do be dooo.

"Ksenna!" Couldn't they see she was in the middle of something important? Someone just kept shouting at her, somewhere very far away. Beyond the stars. Twinkly, twinkly little stars. And then the stars fell and her face was all wet, water dripping into her ears, and it was bright.
"Nnhhhh." It was so bright. What was going on? A thing, a big blob was next to her and saying things, and another voice was in her head. "Mmmnnnnhhhh!" She pawed her face, scrunching her eyes and nose. After another splash of water, she managed to crack her eyes open. Her vision was blocked by a worried-looking face and geeez, why was her back so sharding sweaty? Slowly, bit by bit, things started clearing in her head. She was looking for something, and she fell. Right. Because an animal had eaten her legs.

Her eyes cracked open. "Wait, wait, 'm all okay! I can still shtand!" Her voice was still slurry, but loud. "It's no biggie!" She started scrambling up unsteadily. First she swayed to the right. She managed to get on her legs, but her torso wasn't quite following, and she almost stumbled on her stomach on the sand. Her legs ached, a stinging, slashing pain, and straightening up, she went even whiter than before and would have fallen back down if Delilah hadn't caught her by the shoulders.
"No, no, I don't need help. See, I can do it! I can get through this..." She couldn't leave now, not before getting her life partner, her other half, the whole reason she had come to Dalibor!

[Tigersilk]

(Oocc: Long post is long; sorry)

Tag: K'var

****

Burgundy dragons?  Here?

THAT was something Kahnasunita never expected to see at this Hatching.  Bloodshed she expected, given the stories her bitter father told the others at her home Hold about how violent the wher hatchings always got; how much blood and dismemberment always occurred, how all the Candidates standing in one got badly maimed.  Sunita always figured he greatly exaggerated those details, since the vast majority of the wher handlers she saw, when going to the few Fort Hold Gathers she'd ever been to, didn't have missing limbs or missing facial features, and because her father always lied about everything and anything he could to make himself look better to the other Holders.  But she also figured people did get injured during them though, given that the main job of whers was to attack intruders in their territory.  It made some sense that the newborn wherets would bite the Candidates standing for them before they found their life's partner among them.  Just that they'd not eat every last person present alive before that happened.  Then they'd be nothing but wild whers, and....well, what did a Weyr do with wherets gone wild?  And did she want to know?

Sunita saw the new Burgundy male pass by a couple of Candidates over to her right, headed towards the back of the pack of people.  As he passed out of sight Sunita's attention was drawn back to a small dark Cyan that earlier had bounded into the front rows of Candidates and...tripped on the dead girl's body before it was taken away by the green Wherpair.  The little dragonet was currently trembling and hiding herself in her wings, as if expecting someone to start screaming obscenities at her for the mistake, telling her how stupid she was, how no-one worth anything wanted her alive.....Sunita shut down that train of memory hard.  She wasn't supposed to think such thoughts out here; she was supposed to think happier thoughts to attract a dragonet's mind.  Besides, if anyone did yell at the dragonet, that person would probably come face-to-face with her angry Gold mother and get yelled at in their turn.  The image of an angry Callistath bowling over an offender with just the sound of her voice made Sunita giggle, and helped drive the bad memories from her mind. 

"Ooh, look, he's back," Annuziata said softly, pointing to where the Burgundy was now approaching them from the back of the group, giving the girls a good look at him as he stopped at the boy standing next to them, and Impressed.  Ziata was probably thinking of how to work that fellow into one of her stories, Sunita figured, given the look of wonderment on her face.  Meanwhile a second Burgundy had hatched, acting like he owned the place, marching into the Candidates like they were all there for him alone to judge.  His presence seemed to have frightened his sister, who ran back to the safety of the eggs.  The new Burgundy passed close to the girls on their left, close enough for them to get a better look at him than they had his brother.  A moment later the cyan passed by them at a run, looking for somewhere safe, and her bonded-to-be; evidently both were to be found back there.

Or maybe not.  The cyan ran to the Healers, looked at them for a moment, then ran back the way she came.  Sunita thought she was going to go back to the eggs, but then the little cyan skidded to a stop right beside them, almost tripping herself again in the process.  The dragonet sniffed the air, as if trying to find the source of a wonderful smell, then came over to them, sniffing Jasjitta first, then Ziata, then Sunita, as if going eanie, meanie miney.....

MOE!!  Sunita almost fell down with the force of the dragonet's pounce; as it was she was driven to her knees and only spared a burning from the hot Sands by the leather pants she was wearing. She looked into the Cyan's rainbow gaze, and found both a soulmate and a part of herself she'd thought lost forever. Meanwhile a very happy Cyan snorted on her, and filled her mind with babbling talk.

KahnasunitaMine! Kahnasunita... Kah na su ni ta? Ah, is, is that okay? Is it? I'm sorry. Ibith can call you SunitaMine if KahnasunitaMine wants. Now please, please come with me. I want food. I want to leave. If that's okay....I'm afraid they won't like me because I accidently tripped over that dead girl and they'll send me away without food and I'm sooooo hungry and.... By that point Ibith had gone suddenly shy, crawling into Sunita's lap and burrowing into het robes as if afraid someone was already issuing orders to not feed the dark little Cyan as punishment for her supposed crime if she dared return to the Healer's area. Plus a fear of something she saw in the nest....

Sunita could barely get a word in edgewise. "Hush, baby, it'll be all right. Sunita's fine; I go by either." She scratched Ibith's eyeridges to help calm her down. "They won't refuse to feed you. I'm sure they understand you didn't mean to hurt that girl." Surely not everyone was as unforgiving over minor mistakes as her native Hold had been. "And even if they are, I'll find you food somewhere. I can steal some from the kitchens if nothing else." Though sneaking that much raw meat out of there at once would be quite a challenge, to put it mildly. But if she truly needed to do it for Ibith.....

"But first let me up, so I can bring you to the food," Sunita pushed at her new partner to get off her lap. "Sorry, Mine, I won't do that again," Ibith scambled off Sunita's lap as she stood. She faced her sisters, whose dark faces mirrored her own happiness at her Impression. "Ibith, these are my sisters Jasjitta," Sunita gestured at the smaller one, "and Annuziata. Guys, this is Ibith."

"Hello, Mine's sisters! Will you come back with us for food? Surely they'll have enough for everyone?" Ibith happily babbled at them, her fears momentarily forgotten.

Sunita pushed a strand of long black hair from her dark face. "Well, guys, do you still want to stay out here, or come back with me? Jas? You holding up ok? I don't think they'll fault you if you leave now," Or else the icy blonde girl that they were standing by wouldn't have left just because of her attempted scalping. At least Sunita thought so, anyway. Another person she hadn't known well either before coming onto the grounds.

The girls thought for a moment before responding. "Nah, we're alright," Jas responded. "Besides, maybe our partners are here tonight too," she smiled brightly.

"Okay, but don't be stupid about it. You can't Impress anything if you're dead. If things go south again, get back to the Healer's area. There's enough big whers back there to stop anything bad that might stil hatch tonight." Sunita hugged her sisters as Ibith gave them good-luck nuzzles, then prepared to leave.

Just then someone from the front row, in direction of the Wher nest, loudly insulted their host Weyr, and the night's new color. All four girls looked up in shock. Ziata recovered first. "What do YOU know; they're pretty dragons!" hopefully not loud enough for the Queens to hear. Ziata did not comprehend why boys had to have only boy dragons and girls could only have girl dragons; she was only twelve, after all. Fort Weyr had male greenriders and female blueriders; wasn't that the norm in every Weyr? Besides, the Burgendies were PRETTY! More dragon colors were always welcome to her.

Shards, Sunita hoped that girl in front didn't just jinx the rest of the Hatching. She also knew her middle sister was stubborn, and wouldn't leave the grounds now, until it became clearer things were going bad again. She gestured for the girls to come closer. "Guys, listen up. If something else hatches in either nest that goes on a rampage like that dark wherelet did and starts killing, get back to the Healers, pronto. Ok?"

Reassured that her sisters would obey, Sunita left to get Ibith some food. She was torn; one the one hand she wanted to stay and keep her sisters safe for their intended partners (if they were here tonight, that is), on the other she had a responsibility now to Ibith and her needs. Sunita had to trust that her late mother's teachings would be enough to get them out of this Hatching alive.

Sunita paused a moment while approaching the Healer's Area, taking stock of the people gathered there. Old habits kicked in; are they safe? Can she trust them to not harm her, or her new partner? But Ibith's stomach was growling louder, and the shy dragonet was pushing at her legs, hard. "FOOD!!!! Please?" the last in a pleading tone. But her back still ached from the beating, and her torn shoulder was starting to get stiff, and she just wanted to sit for a bit, away from the heat....

"Okay, baby, okay. We're here now. There's the food," Sunita thought to her partner. While walking towards the back she saw another new dragon pair approach a red-headed man a get a bucket; she didn't know this man, but apparently he was in charge of the food. The fifteen-year-old warily came up to the man, keeping herself between him and Ibith. Just in case. "Excuse me, sir. I'm Sunita, this is Ibith. She's hungry."

[Gray]

[Warning: Stupidly long post of Matilda being a dork]

Looks like she would have to stay grounded. It worked for her. Burns were.. well they were nothing. They hurt, yes, but hurting was normal for the holdless! She was made of tougher stuff than that. She could always cry about it later. There was no room for tears right now. There had already been enough shed in this hatching.

Plus, she really had no room for sadness, especially when the strange skeletal one started darting around. Was he a black? If it was, it was a rather red one! Of all the blacks Matilda had peeped at, they had never been that colorful. But surely it was not a red. The dragon had looked far too small and slight to be one of those rampaging monstrosities. He, or she Matilda amended, was rather in control though. The dragonet had not of the clumsiness she had seen before. Instead , each movement was graceful and almost ethereal. The dragonet's pause at where Orkia once lay was startling. They were certainly something new! That was far too red to be a black, and far too small to be a red. She, of course, had heard stories of Dalibor and it's odd mutations, she just never thought she'd be on the sands when a new one hatched.

Boy did she have quite the story now. She would have to write back to the other Holdless! They would love to hear about it. Her eyes followed it's movements, watching it circle with predatory menace. Oddly, it had not hurt anyone yet, and it made her wonder if it was all a show, one like she would put on, being wild and scary just because they could. Then it's attentions turned to her and she wondered if thinking about it made it notice. For a moment, she wondered if she would impress, it was a silly though. A trifling one. Instead, the dragonet pushed her down. She winded a bit as claws poked through her robe to cut thin lines on her skin beneath. It wasn't as bad as mauling could be. But the skeletal creature wasn't done with her yet. Instead it sat on her, meticulous and proper as could be.

It's claw hovered over her jugular, the long, sharp appendages pressing against it slightly. For a moment, Matilda was sure her heart stopped. If it had, it was only to ready itself, for it started pounding in her chest and in her ears. Was she going to die? Was this the end of her? Would she be like Orkia? Fear tinged with curiosity filled her chest as she stared at the dragonet above her. What waited for her? Did anything wait for her? Would she slink between like a dragon did, in spirit but not in body? Would she just be buried to decompose and fuel the plants above her? Letting out a shuddering breath, Matilda closed her eyes. If she was going to die, she was going to accept it with open arms.

But nothing happened. Or at least, nothing felt like it happened. She expected pain, then perhaps the feeling of energy loss, or cold. But instead the dragonet removed his claw from her neck. Instead it moved off and nuzzled against her. Opening her eyes, she grinned at the dark red creature.
“You had me going there for a moment.” This one was not hers, and she was a bit sad about it. But, she had expected that. So when he left, she waved goodbye to him, before struggling to sit back up. Once up with as little pain caused as possible, she refocused on the reddish one. Just in time to see his little act with Matthaus, and his subsequent impression. Matthaus.. He was the Wherry one, right? Matilda had seen the boy, but never spoke with him at length. A'til had always been extra strict about her and boys. Still, it was good. Another Holdless impressed. He deserved it.

Callistath's announcement was accepted with a nod. So. He was Burgundy. Lovely. A good color, the deep red could make most outfits look so elegant. The next dragon to hatch? Not very elegant. He hatched with a bang and an attitude, though Matilda couldn't really condemn him. At least, not until he ran into another girl with enough force to knock the breath from her chest. Then again, this time with a boy. What made them so offensive? Matilda was rather curious what went through the minds of these newborns to prompt such an angry reaction out of them. As she mused, she looked to the eggs, only to see a blue.

Oh. Well. He didn't hatch angry. Matilda frowned a bit. What did prompt anger out of some, but not others? She might have to get to the bottom of this one day, then she could report it for the good of the community. The previously cowering cyan now seemed to be moving about... Though franticaly. She watched her approach a candidate, then scramble back to the eggs. Then she was out again, darting about. Honestly, watching her made Matilda feel tired. Maybe her wounds and the excitement were getting to her, but she couldn't wait until she could sleep again. Yawning, she wiped at one eye with the back of her hand.

Any tiredness soon fled her as Garna started her rant. Matilda's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped as the girl spewed forth her foulness. What an entitled brat! Fate would certainly pay her back for that little diatribe. In fact, the payback came sooner than later. She had been so focused on Garna that she had not seen the third Burgundy. She did not miss how he lept at her though, claws bared. She smiled in slightly smug delight that she was quite getting what she deserved. Fate was a kind woman, but she paid forth what was put in. She would not hesitate to punish those who's lines tangled and snared.

The black wher's return to the sands was a welcome one though. For a bit she was sure he had impressed to a healer. But there he was, staring at her. He left though, and she watched him continue his path. The sound of breaking bone was enough to make her whip her head around, so fast in fact that she made herself dizzy. Muddling through pain and spinning, she squinted at the Burgundy, who gave them a curt nod and once again infiltrated their ranks. The similarly colored brothers met up and then separated. Here attention drifted about. Otto was hurt. The blue left for the stands. The little grey where was sitting like a small general a top the iron. There was a green. Oh. Oh my. Matilda shook her head again. The green was mad. Mad as shards too. But at the same time, she didn't seem mad. She just seemed lost.