[Hatching] Happily Ever After

[lithle]

The Seven in One Blow Hatchling seemed to lose interest in the Weyrwoman once she'd set his clutchmate down. Leshta was able to retreat back to her dragons side without further eager bounding. But now, the blue was stuck trying to make a decision of his own, and as hunger overcame exuberant energy, he decided to consider his options.

Still, he did not walk along the line so much as he danced, and he showed a marked interest in bumping into anyone that retreated as he approached. Tanyrion, in particular, would suffer a headbutt similar to the one that Julian had endured, if he wasn't fast enough to jump out of the way. As he reached the end of the semi-circle, he seemed to grow more frantic. Hunger was hitting him, and there was no bond in sight.

He turned, walking back in the other direction, not playful now, but seeking, looking into every face, chirping questioningly and then continuing on. And then, finally, with a releaved little churr, he stood on his back legs, putting his feet squarely on Kretyn's chest.

Kretyn, mine, there is so much to do! I think we should go play in the waves! But first, you must feed your Bravadoth. Quickly!

Name: Bravadoth

Fairytale: Brave Little Tailor

Color Code: 6655ff

Desc:
Bravadoth isn't big, but he doesn't need to be. This little blue is all about speed. Whip thin and long, with narrow wings, he's more snakelike than most dragons. In the air or on the ground, Bravadoth is hard to keep up with, in the water, he's almost impossible to beat. Impatient and reckless as he is, he risks developing a cracked hide and scars on his pretty hide if his rider isn't attentive.

Personality

Reckless, fierce and wild Bravadoth is the member of his clutch voted 'most likely to die doing something dangerous'. There is no mountain too high to fly over, no location too unfamiliar to between to, no wild wher too large to take down. This is a blue who loves a challenge, who'll ignore the tame, sickly herdbeast if he can go for the large, angry one. There's nothing Bravadoth fears more than the mundane and he will do anything to avoid it.

This makes Bravadoth a very hard dragon to train. He'll usually show interest in any lesson that promises to be exciting, or at least unfamiliar, but if it's a repeat, he'll be, at best, only openly bored. At worst, he'll start bragging to other dragons, trying to start a race or a fight. It's not that he's aggressive or competitive. He knows he's the best! But getting other dragons involved in his antics can be difficult, and sometimes a blow to the pride is the quickest way to get things moving. There's very little Bravadoth won't try if he thinks it'll get his clutchmates involved in something exciting. They're all terribly dull, really, and he pities them. If he doesn't make their life interesting, who will? He likes Roseth in particular, and will often try to push her into more extreme ideas of 'adventure'.

Regardless of what a certain weyrlingmaster may think about the innate goodness of dragons, Bravadoth's moral compass doesn't always point north. That isn't to say he's a bad guy, there's no real malice in him. He's just equally lacking in say, kindness, or generosity. Bravadoth doesn't feel guilty about things, especially those things done in pursuit of 'fun'. He'll lie, he'll take things that don't belong to him, he'll pick fights with bigger dragons. What he won't do is pick fights with smaller dragons. One could call that a sign of innate goodness, but Bravadoth would say he doesn't see the point. They're small, after all, where's the fun in fighting someone when there's no challenge before the win?

For all his recklessness, there's a great joyousness about Bravadoth. He might sulk a bit when he gets bored, but it's only because he loves life. He sees it unfolding before him, full of possibility and promise and ignoring such promise is difficult for him. If he encourages his clutchmates toward disobedience, he also encourages them to see life as an opportunity for adventure, challenge, and excitement. He will never be satisfied with mundane comfort, not when there's a world out there, waiting to be conquered.


Why Me?
Bravadoth's choice of Kretyn is one that will doubtless mystify a number of people. Why would such a reckless, adventurous creature choose taciturn, cautious Kretyn. But Bravadoth needs reigning in, and Kretyn is just the person to do it. She's controlled, with a mind strong enough to keep Bravadoth in check. In turn, he might just introduce a sense of fun into her world, show her a life about more than just getting by.

With the blue's impression, the sands were empty of seeking dragons. The Skinny Dipping Egg began to shake in a relaxed, unhurried fashion.

[nemix]

It didn't seem to take the Blue long to re-focus his energy. He was moving again, but this time seemed more pointed in what he was doing. No aimless wandering now, oh no, he was looking for something. Down the line of Candidates he moved, fidgeting on those newly hatched feet of his. He was handsome Tiael supposed, she'd honestly never paid much attention to what made an attractive dragon but his markings were interesting. It seemed like this Blue was lively in everything he did, delighting in an almost playful manner at the shyer candidates.

Tiael wondered how she would take this dragons presence close to her. Some might think she'd jump back, her last encounter having been less than pleasant. This Blue however, seemed kinder, not malicious or sneaky. More delighting and being amused by people's antics. She'd probably stand her ground. Probably.

It didn't even come to that though, the young woman watched as the Blue stopped, and then reared up to place his front feet against his newly chosen rider. Another dragon down, no others out of their shells yet. Briefly Tiael wondered if there might be a dud among the eggs she hadn't visited. All the ones she'd spent time with had been full of life, hatred or at least gave her a milder reception that still hinted that yes there was a dragon in there. As things seemed to calm in pace on the sands, Tiael realised that one of the quieter, but still cheerful eggs was moving. As calm as its mind had been, the Skinny Dipping Egg was rocking slowly back and forth. It was almost rhythmical. Just what dragon would emerge from that egg, Tiael wondered.

[S'yal]

Yari was not an accepting creature. She watched each and every Dragonet Impress, her eyes lighting in savage delight as she saw the dark Green go about her mauling way. She attacked her snivelling sister and mutilated a young woman who must have thought herself oh so brave and heroic! She snickered even as Trusith puffed up, thinking that if Yari liked it when Dragons hurt humans Trusith would find a way. The thought of hurting a human made him gag though, and he whimpered. He was supposed to protect humans.... he abandoned that plan, sure he could find another way of pleasing Yari.

She watched as a boy ran forward and took the injured Green into his arms, her eyes narrowing in disgust. "What is WRONG with that boy?" She hissed sharply, and her brown supplied a nervous answer. He's albino, mine... Remember? We see albino doggies sometime! Yari rubbed the side of her face, nodding in a distracted manner. She'd actually been referring to the way he acted towards the useless Green.

Then, the crying and the creeling. Oh, boohoo! She thought nastily as her eyes focused on the Opal that slinked out as if an injured dog. Poor baby She thought, her mind-voice sarcastic and cold. Oh! I'm not Gold! Pity me, pity me! Ugly, horrible, unnatural thing.

Mine hates her?

Useless! She's USELESS Trusith! She got everyones hopes up with that shell of hers, and she comes out looking stranger then Ruth! Yari schooled her face into being impassive, despite the disgust obvious in her eyes.

[Zen]

Ever hadn’t seen the strange-colored dragon Impress. In fact, she hadn’t really even seen the strange-colored dragon in the first place. The only dragon she really had seen since her fingers getting cut off was the blue who’d run into her. Even then, her eyes had only taken in the blue streak, not the actual blue dragon. Now, as she tried to get her mind back in control, she felt that this was the exact way the stereotype was supposed to happen. Well, good, at least she was thinking about something—her mind was clear enough for that. She associated her horrid experience with the fact that she had known a Green hatching first was to be a bad sign of the hatching to come.

Slowly, the injured blond woman stopped rocking. The sand’s heat drove itself into her butt and legs and threatened to heat her entire back. She was sweating. The sand in front of her was covered with blood and her stomach churned. If her mind had been clear enough to accept signs from her nose, she would have smelled the blood that surrounded her. After taking a couple deep breaths, Ever stopped rocking. The rocking had helped take her mind off of the pain in her hand—where the HELL was the numbweed when she needed it?!—and when she stopped she felt the insane need to start up again. She sat there, her hand elevated (she found that when her hand was elevated, she felt better), and breathed deeply.

After a long pause, in which the Blue butted its head into Tanyrion’s stomach (but Ever didn’t notice), she used her right hand to propel her off of the ground. Not too fast, she realized, or else the blood would rush to her brain and she’d swoon. In fact, the slowness in which she was propelling herself upward was even then quick enough to make her world swirl before her. She made sure to keep her hand elevated, though. When her hand was elevated she could take the pain. When the blood rushed to her hand, she felt as if she couldn’t live with her hand.

The thing that got her the most was the fact that she hadn’t even deserved to have her fingers eaten off. It was just because the dragon didn’t like her, thought she was different. How could the dragon have even possibly known she was an estranged Holder’s daughter? Or was it because of the red hem on her robes? Ever laughed to herself at that—an actual outwardly laugh—because now her robe was covered in red. …

…

Oops.

---

Tanyrion tried not to breathe. It was a horrid prospect—not breathing—but the tang of copper nearly made him gag. Hatchings were exciting times, but ‘exciting’ wasn’t really happening here. More like gut-wrenching. He didn’t know what would happen next, and for once he was terrified of what was going to happen.

What did happen was what Tanyrion hadn’t expected. The blue stalked up to him and headbutted him. In the stomach. Tany’s breath was knocked out of him. But he didn’t swoon, and he didn’t feel half as bad as that blond woman. In fact, he quickly recovered to see the Blue Impress. He clapped politely—was vaguely aware that this was the first time he had clapped for an Impression—and drew his eyes back to the hatching.

Huh, that was strange. There were no more hatchlings… and no eggs were really rocking right now. Tany wondered if the eggs were duds… most likely the Old Blood one….

[Lesa]

The heat was drying her off faster than if she had just been outside, letting herself traditionally air dry. The extra heat from the mass of sand was drying her off that much faster. Gwynell shuddered lightly, salt residue causing her thighs to stick together uncomfortably as she shifted position. It was with some shock that she watched as Leshta marched over and picked up the rainbow colored dragonet, bringing the unhappy female over to the line of Candidates. Made sense for her to do so, really. She couldn't Impress the female, since she had Semith, and if one of the Candidates did so, they could be considered to force Impression, which was, well, wrong.

The little one was just as shocked as Gwynell had been at her being lifted, and especially shocked at the landing. It was almost funny as the rainbow dragonet sat there surprised, taking a moment to move. When her eyes went the same color as her hide - rainbow, Gwynell smiled. Sheraz! Oh, her students were doing so well, Farrox - F'ox, and Sheraz.... S'raz maybe? She wasn't quite sure what he would go with, but oh, good for him, good for both of them.

Her eyes wandered back to the blue, just for him to Impress to girl. Good for her, even though she didn't know the prisoner. One other egg rocked and rocked, not cracking yet, just rocking.[/size]

[lithle]

The Skinny Dipping Egg continued to rock back and forth without any sense of hurry and concern. It seemed it could hatch at any moment, but the egg was still waiting for the right moment. Instead it was the Sweet Music Egg which, without any particular warning, split into a number of tiny pieces.

The Ratcatcher Hatchling within sat stunned in its shell, as if it hadn't actually been expecting the sudden change of fortune. It gave a questioning little croon, and its voice was sweet, musical and almost hypnotic. It was also, no question, gray. It was not white. It was not a grayish blue. It was simply gray, in patches of varying brightness. Small, it seemed about on size with a very petite green.

It gave another little croon, as sweet as the first then, without seeming particularly hurried, stretched and began moving toward the candidates. It continued to, well, sing, as it walked, a bright little chirping tune.

[twisting]

Now that was something that peaked Kuriel’s interest, the curious gray hide. It was an oddity, yes, and there were others who would consider that a bad sign, but Kuriel knew a few things about being odd. It was the little dragon’s attitude that called to her more than the color. At least it lacked it’s sister’s cowering fear. The music did make the girl hesitate. What did a dragon, especially one only a few heartbeats old, know of music. Still, the tune seemed pretty enough, not the she cared much for music. Some people said music moved them, but Kuriel just heard noise.

She watched the blue impress, yet another dragon that wouldn’t be hers. This whole event might turn out to be a waste of time. Though, considering she only had chores to look forward to time was something she had enough of to waste. Still, she was beginning to get bored. The heat of the sand had penetrated her boots, and the mugginess of the air meant she was hot and sticky. The rest of these dragons needed to hatch and get done with their impressing. She would like escape to the relative coolness of the goat barn. If she didn’t impress that is, though that eventuality was looking less and less likely.

[nozomi]

"I take it that Leshta has some practice in this sort of thing?" said the Warden through clenched teeth. The Gold rider, on his list, somehow continued to bleed and not care and if she died, he'd be furious. It'd mean breaking in a brand new Gold, if he could talk the damned leaders into sending one. T'di shrugged with the Warden's anger, his hand dropping from where it clutche the older mans arm. Warden had not yelled at HIM, after all, or threaten to put him into solitary. It was a good day, in the blueriders mind.

"S'not like you to get your tunic all in a bunch," T'di glanced to the warden and his round face flushed, nose wrinkling. He added quickly: "Sir."

Warden grunted, waved him away to watch the continued Hatchings. The blue (a normal color, thankfuly), it Impressed and easily so. How many prisoners would Impress? They'd never leave the Weyr, of course, but...

Especially not with the deformed colors.

Rainbow, gray. What next, polka-dotted? Pink? Plaid?

Neon orange? And in that moment, Warden wanted nothing more than to flick his dragon in the nose. Yusuth, the jerk, was stationed off too far away to be flick-able. Warden stewed instead and the very moment Leshta was in ear shot, he glared at her as fiercely as he knew how.

"Goldrider, are you crazy? Scared hatchlings kill people." Warden gestured over one of the sidelining healers with a brisk wave, his scowl deep and just for Leshta. "What were you thinking?"

"Very cool, pretty lady. Saving the glittery shiny thing." T'di gave his partner a thumbs up from beside the Warden and took a few steps closer to his concerned blue. "Check it out, we have gray. One has too much color, the other has none."

"You are not humorous, Taedi.."

[Lesa]

It seemed shock was the plan of the day, as Gwynell and everyone else transferred their gazes from the rocking egg to the suddenly cracking egg. The little one inside was gray. Gray, huh. Interesting. The little one seemed to be a solid gray, like the clouds when it was just overcast and hazy, not threatening a sudden storm, just when the entire sky is covered and gray. There could be a break in the clouds and a ray of light, or darkening into a complete storm. Either or, it could go either way, though with the happy whistling of the gray, she figured that this little one was more likely to give a ray of sunlight to whomever it Impressed, rather than the storm that could happen with another.[/size]

[S'yal]

F'ox stroked Snowth's head, a fond smile on his face as he looked down at the little dragonet. She was beautiful and perfect and a million other things that F'ox couldn't even lend thought to.

However, she wanted to watch the hatchlings. Snowth regarded her siblings with curiosity, occasionally crooning encouragement to one that faltered and letting out joyous cries when the Blue and Opal Impressed. She was so happy that none of her siblings had gone Between! Even the other Green that hurt her- she was happy that she'd found Hers.

F'ox shifted in the sand, waving to those he recognized as being prisoners. He didn't invite them over, and Sheraz merely got a frightened look. Oh, he was a boy! Boys were scary! He impressed my sister. Doesn't that make him safe?

But one of your sisters hurt you...!

[nozomi]

With the Ratcatcher Hatchling about, and the Skinny Dipping Egg rocking, who would imagine that a third egg would join the crew? The ever so quiet Flickering Flame Egg broke before that slowly rocking partner. Two bright blue hind legs burst from the shell and with it, the Flickering Flame Egg opened.

First the front part of the shell was pushed out, revealing the blue within. THe rest of it's body was dark, dark as night, with a single robins egg starburst in the middle of it's chest, somehow visible under the goo. The Matchstick Hatchling crept out onto the sands, head down, eyes alert. He took slow steps towards the Candidates, paused onlt by his clutchsibs constant chirps. To the side he slunk, close to the sand as he could but unlike his sisters, there was no fear. He simply kept low.

The Matchstick Hatchling creeled softly and started to press its way into the crowd, bumping left and right into those around him. They wouldn't notice him anyway, would they? Of course not. His sibling made too much noise.

[S'yal]

Julian was not interested in the Blue hatchling that had hatched. No, his eyes trailed to the Grey fellow that was making so much noise- No, not noise. Music. It was singing. He had never known a dragon to sing, though the occasional firelizard showed interest in music. His eyes locked on the grey body moving along... and Julian found himself thinking about how he very much liked the color grey.

No! I'm not here for a dragon. He was feeling bitter after his opinion on hatching was proven wrong by F'ox, but the lazy man was standing hunched over, his eyes on the ground. Well, even if the prisoners could and would Impress, Julian would not. Not even his own parents had wanted him beyond a way to make money- Why would a dragon feel any different? Something dark stirred in his mind as he looked away. There was no dragon waiting in these eggs for him. He was sure of it.

Julian wished he could retreat from the sands, but he knew that was an impossibility. If he stepped a toe out of line he was sure that a dragonet would be offended and lash out at him... something he did not want. Eyes trailed worriedly to Ever as she laughed, a look of concern flitting over his impassive face.

"Ever" He hissed, feeling a sudden rush of hate against the Green dragon. It'd hurt a prisoner. It'd hurt one of his people. "Are you alright?" Oh, that was a stupid question. Of COURSE she wasn't alright. "Beyond the missing fingers. I'm sure you can stick carrots there as a suitable replacement" What a horrid attempt at humor.

[Zen]

“Ever, are you alright? Beyond the missing fingers. I'm sure you can stick carrots there as a suitable replacement." Came a voice and Ever’s head whipped around to spy Julian, a fellow prisoner. His red-hemmed robe was very much the opposite of hers and it almost made her laugh again. Or perhaps it was his lame sense of a joke that made her want to guffaw. But she didn’t; just the simple movement of her head created a strange feeling that felt like nausea, and she felt as if she’d throw up if her mouth opened wider than a smile.

“If... if alright means feeling like I’m going to die,” Ever heaved a sigh that seemed to rattle her core, “then I guess I’m alright.” She felt lightheaded just from speaking, and she was pretty sure she was swaying on her feet again. But she would be strong. She would be strong because her father had made her want to be strong. He wasn’t even here and she felt that she needed to show him up. To say that this was what she was hoping for was to say that spotted felines were fluffy kittens that should be loved and cuddled and never killed anything. She needed this because she had to show her father who she really was—not some dumb woman who was only meant to look good, not actually be good.

“I don’t think carrots would be versatile enough,” she said, giggling as she pushed her hair, already slicked from blood on that side, back with her right hand. “Perhaps some wood or something.” She said, looking him in the eye, and then she winced. She barely knew the prisoner, but it felt so good to talk to someone. “I hurt. “ It hadn’t meant to come out as a whine, but in the end she found that her voice rose into that whine, “I might not show it, but this is killing me.” Her eyes, when she looked at the man, shone with tears that weren't ready to fall yet.

The gray’s musical tones caught her ear, but to Ever, who was already in pain and couldn’t really think about much else, the music didn’t stick right in her mind. She was getting a headache. It was from lack of blood. It was from giggling. It was from talking. Shards, perhaps it was even from breathing. But Ever didn’t really want to stop breathing and die. And she didn’t want to complain and tell the Gray to shut its mouth. That was thinking egocentrically, and it really wasn’t the Gray’s fault it was happy that it had hatched.

[Lesa]

In looking after the hatchlings, the gray and a new-hatched blue, Gwynell caught sight again of the injured girl. Why was she still standing? It made no sense, none at all. Even though she wasn't leaving the sands, she should at least sit down. Give her a chance to breath, to keep her head together. Standing would only make things worse for her. The Harper made up her mind quick enough, skirting around the back of the rest of the line. She wasn't about to walk through the entire Sands, even if only two kind-seeming dragonets were out and about. To do so would just be stupid.

It felt odd to walk, salt on her skin making everything dry and uncomfortable, itchy. Much, she supposed, like dragonets would be itchy, with drying egg mucus. Briefly she wished she had some fellis to give the girl, then decided it wasn't worth it. Even though she thought she knew who this girl was - her students talked about a blond Lord's daughter being with them, a thief, she wasn't going to take the chance that any fellis she had wouldn't take affect. Not to mention she wasn't allowed to have any fellis, so as to not tempt the users of the prisoners.

Gwynell shoved her spectacles up as she came up beside the girl and the man she was talking to.
"You might want to sit down," she suggested, "you'll feel a bit better if you sit down, Ever. Standing doesn't make you brave or anything," the Harper admitted, "it just makes you more likely to faint, and no dragonet can Impress to a fainted human. That and I've got no way of reviving you unless I slap you," a slight grin as the blond fell silent, looking up slightly at her fellow blond, hoping the prisoner took her advice.[/size]

[lithle]

The Ratcatcher Hatchling continued its bright, playful song even after its brother hatched, though it seemed to take only nominal notice of the blue. Oh, it glanced in that direction, but it wasn't here to meet its clutchmates. Not yet, anyway! There were candidates about, its very own audience, and it was very much enjoying having the spotlight. Even so, it didn't seem particularly inclined to impress just yet. Impressing would mean the end of fun and the start of life. This hatchling wasn't ready for that, not yet.

Instead of examining the candidates further, it began to circle the eggs, nosing this one, nudging that. The Skinny Dipping Egg got a good hard thump and a large crack appeared in the shell. But, if it was meant to be a wake up call, it wasn't entirely successful. The Skinny Dipping Egg just kept rocking in those controlled, unhurried movements.

The Ratcatcher Hatchling's song too on a briefly irritated tone, and the egg got another rap. Still no real reaction.

Well, fine then. The gray headed toward the candidates at an unhurried pace. A few, all wearing red hems, were treated to a harsh little growl that silenced the upbeat song. Finally, it came to stop in front of the injured Ever, and the one tending to her.

And what are you getting after looking after her, instead of paying attention to your Willoth as he serenades you, GwynellMine? Come, let us sing together, and get something to eat. Now is not the time for work!

Name: Willoth

Fairytale: Pied Piper

Color Code: 999999

Desc: Willoth is large for a gray, a fact which matches him in size with some of the smaller greens. Large framed by nature, he's wider than most other grays, and more muscular, a fact that will allow him to carry passengers, though it'll slow him down in flight. He's not quick, but he's extremely agile, able to pull off impressive stunts. He'll lose that ability if his rider doesn't watch his food intake, though. Willoth likes to eat and will show a tendency to gain extra weight.

Personality:

Willoth is a dragon determained to live his life to the fullest. If he were human, he'd be all for wine, women, and song. As a dragon, he settles for the the latter two. Music, in particular, fills him with joy. It will always sadden him that Warden's Weyr has few harpers. Those few that are at the Weyr can expected to be pestered and Willoth himself will often join in; his crooning is high, sweet, and pitch perfect. He'll happily entertain others with his 'singing', Willoth loves company, and does his best to surround himself with like minded companions at all times. Easy going and good natured when he's not in a temper, it's not hard for him to collect friends.

By nature, Willoth is a lazy dragon, but, with proper motivation, he may just be the hardest worker in his clutch. Willoth has a fantastic work ethic, and once he's decided to do something, he'll move Pern itself to get the job in question done. He never starts something he doesn't plan to finish, and finish well. It's getting him started that's difficult. Willoth doesn't work for nothing, and 'the good of the Weyr' has no effect on him whatsoever. No, Willoth works for reward, whether it be a song, a shiny trinket (he's inherited his mother's fondness, there) or a promise of new, dyed riding straps. After all, he likes to look his best.

Yes, once a bargain is made, Willoth is a dragon to count on. Provided, that is, that the bargain maker keeps up their side of things as well. Willoth has a vicious, violent temper and nothing brings it to the fore faster than someone backing out on a deal. Willoth isn't the sort to yell or snap, though. No, this little gray likes his revenge served cold. He'll chew up another dragon's favorite flight straps, destroy their rider's things, or even attempt to destroy their relationships with whoever they might be close to. He has an uncanny knack for knowing what others value most, and that's where he attacks. In addition to his hatred of 'traitors' as he calls them, Willoth can't abide thieves. He'll look down on those among his clutchmates who choose thieves, and woe be anyone who takes something of his.

As a gray, Willoth is, of course, on the smaller side. This doesn't bother him. His hide, however, does. This is a dragon who loves color, who's drawn to bright, flashing things. The fact that he doesn't have any color of his own is a disappointment, a deficiency he'll seek to rectify. Willoth wants bright, flashy riding straps. He wants shiny trinkets to wear. And he wants his poor rider to dress to match. He won't nag. Willoth isn't a nagger. He'll just withhold work until he gets his way.

Why Me?
While it's not exactly true that Willoth chose Gwynell because of her harpering background, that certainly helped. With her, he can enjoy his precious music whenever he likes, and she, in turn, will have an easy bribe to motivate him with. No, Willoth chose Gwynell because she complimented him, able to understand his relaxed nature and love of life while possessing the motivation he lacks . With her help, he'll get things done. With his help, Gwynell will have an excuse to kick back and enjoy the sunshine.

As its sibling impressed, the Skinny Dipping Egg hatched. The Marquis Hatchling within, another gray, gave a long, languid stretch. He was marked like a tabby, and his movements were pure poetry.