[Touching 1] Old Traditions, New Wounds (Closed)

[lithle]

It was early evening and except for the low murmur of the many guards who now ringed the hatching sands (locking the barn after the horse is gone, much?) it was quiet. Semith was resting, not asleep but still enough to seem so, not her usual exuberant self. She'd been quiet since the theft. She only barely spoke, even to those closest to her. Leshta was asleep against her, she'd not been informed of the approaching guests.

Iiateth was still ill, and for the moment at least, neither clutch father was in attendance. They might arrive at any time, however.

This was the first group on the sands. It had not been scheduled, exactly. Semith had simply touched L'vey's mind, asking him to bring some candidates to see the eggs. And L'vey had simply directed Faeth to call a few candidates to him, indicating that they should inform a guard to escort them, if they were prisoners.

Now, he was waiting at the edge of the sands for those summoned to arrived. He was quieter even than Semith, staring out at the remains of the two clutches. It was still a good number of eggs, but not what it had been. It was not the loss of the eggs that bothered him, not exactly. It was the loss of the lifes within them. He highly doubted many would survive to hatching. And even if they did, in such a group, they'd surely between.

He waited. The candidates had been instructed to arrive, bow to Semith and any clutchfathers present and approach the eggs with respect and caution. The dragons were very, very, on edge and the gray added an element of concern (not that anyone but L'vey, Leshta, and La knew that). They were to move slowly and back away if directed or if they saw signs of aggression. They had been informed that conversation was permitted. Semith liked it when people talked to her, or simply around her. She spoke so little herself, these days.

[Zen]

Ever hadn't been ready, exactly, for the sudden appearance of a guard telling her that it was now or never to Touch the eggs, but she'd thought about it. She'd known the eggs were hardening. It had taken nearly about as long as before for the eggs to harden last time. It wasn't Semith's eggs that she had been worried about in the first place, though. It had been Iiateth's eggs. And Iiateth was still... mysteriously sick. With whatever sickness it was.

She was always ready so to say, so when the guard arrived for her, it took only a few seconds for her to stand up, wipe her hands on her red jumpsuit, and push her golden hair behind her ears before heading out to the beach... in full view of the guard, that is. Semith had asked for nothing come this touching, but Ever hadn't completely forgotten their first encounter. So she'd decided to always be prepared, and this time was no different.

She arrived with a few of the other candidates, and she noted that there were only a few candidates to arrive, and she stepped forward first, her green eyes sharp as she took in both Semith and Lestha as well as those others who were important but not as much as the queen whose eggs were in question. She smiled easily as she approached Semith.

"Hello, Weyrwoman Leshta and Gold Semith!" Ever declared happily with a hint of 'remember me?' in her tone. "I've brought something for you, Semith. Like last time. It's a gift, even if, you know, no one said to bring gifts." Ever thought she knew Semith... and if she did, would Semith like it? As she spoke, she held up the token she'd gotten Semith this time, a large golden shawl meant for Leshta but of course given to Semith to do what she wanted.

She knelt down in front of the gold, hoping that Semith didn't want to eat her (but dragons didn't harm humans, did they?) before placing the golden shawl at Semith's feet and then she slowly backed off before standing upright and bowing to Semith and Leshta. She felt uneasily different in her red jumpsuit, even if other candidates were wearing the same color. However, she quelled her self-doubts and grinned easily.

There were a significant number of eggs absent. It was a horrid thought to think that a prison Weyr could both be broken out of and then be stolen from all in a three month period, but Ever could certainly say little on that matter. Instead, she turned and surveyed the eggs. Which would she touch first? Finally, she decided. The first egg she touched was the Elegant Lattice Egg.

[firebird]

Senar was a nervous little beast. After half of the eggs had been stolen, he had lost hope that he would be seeing any of them before the hatching. Being a prisoner and all, he had even started to suspect that he wouldn't be seeing them at all. Wasn't the breakout reason enough to stop letting prisoners stand for hatchings? So when he heard some of them would be seeing the eggs, even touching them, he immediately went asking around to see what he could do to not be threatening.

He had heard that Semith liked gifts. He didn't have anything valuable or useful, so he tried to find something pretty instead. Fortunately, his firelizard liked collecting beautiful and strange things. Unfortunately, these things occasionally already belonged to people. Senar had learned well how to apologize for the flit's actions. He'd had to bribe Desert into letting him take away an unusually colored rock. With a little work, it would make a nice blue and orange pendant.

While another person might feel irritated, Senar was glad there was a guard escorting his little group of candidates. He was tiny compared to the one with them, and thus not a threat. It would be very bad to appear threatening in any way, shape, or form. Dragons might not be able to hurt humans, but their riders certainly could, and who knew how much a panicking dragon would influence its rider? If only the red of his jumpsuit didn't stand out so much!

Senar bowed to Semith somewhat clumsily. He wasn't used to bowing, but he supposed he would have to learn to get used to it. He carefully recited his introduction in his head before saying it out loud; it would do no good to mess up now. "Thank you for allowing us to see your and Iiateth's eggs, Semith. I have brought a gift for you and Leshta." Following Ever's lead, he placed the stone near Semith and backed away. His initial instinct had been to give it to someone else (the guard, perhaps) to give to her, but the other prisoner seemed to know what she was doing. Just in case, he bowed to the gold again.

Spread out. Don't get too close to the other candidates, but stay on the edges of the clutch. Move slowly and keep your hands in full view of the dragons at all times. The Images by Firelight egg looked intriguing. Senar slowly made his way over to it, being very careful not to make any sudden movements. Just as carefully he laid his shaking hands on top of it.

[lithle]

Oh, shards, those were people making those noises. Leshta woke with a little whimper, uncharacterstic of the usually hard woman. She blinked blearily in the evening light. She didn't sleep much, these days. Sometimes, with La's help, but otherwise, no.

People on the sands.

People touching the eggs.

A moment of pure panic and then she spotted L'vey as Semith entered her mind with wordless reassurance.

A touching, now? Well, it looked to be, with the small group size that had been discussed. Fine. She stood up running her fingers briefly through her hair and glaring at the candidates, her arms across her chest.

She really didn't have a reason to glare except that they'd caught her napping. Reason enough.

"Please be cautious of the dragons," was all she said.

Semith, meanwhile, twisted slightly. Her eyes whirled blue touched with yellow and she nudged the gifts with a careful talon. She did not greet anyone. She only watched.

[Lesa]

She wiped a hand across her brow. It wasn't that it was too hot, not like in summer. Just the amount of work to get to this point had been a bit ridiculous. She'd had to drag Willoth off the Sands to eat, assuring him the entire way to the feeding pens, while he was eating and half of the way back that the eggs would be fine, Semith was there, the guards were there, Faranth, she thought she'd even seen Handler Bujare with her Busk and Bask hanging around.

The eggs would be safe while he went and ate for the first time in two sevendays. Shardit, she was not about to bring a herdbeast onto the Sands for him. He could sharding well kill and eat it himself, as he had, red blood bright against his mottled gray hide. Mine, he said, scenting the air as they drew close again to the Sands. There are more than the guards on the Sands! The gray mantled his wings, lips curling up to reveal fangs. He lunged forward, prepared to run forward and kill whoever dared invade the Sands, when Gwynell reached up and slapped him across the muzzle.

"Stop it," she told him sternly, "it's probably just the Candidates, the eggs are hard enough to touch now. Besides, Anatu would have come to me if it wasn't just the Candidates, she knows L'vey, and is just as protective as you are. Remember, you told me before that you would be good. So be good." The Harper touched the quiver at her back, bow strapped against it as a way to relieve some of the tension. He had to remember what he had told her last sevenday. He had to, or she'd remind him.

Well, Willoth didn't fully subside, eyes whirling a bizarre red-green as anger warred with the calm she was shoving at him (no matter how much she was fake-projecting it). Fine. But they do need to sing for me. And perhaps, his tone grew softer, Perhaps making them sing will make Mama a little happy. Gwynell patted his cheek, assuring him with that that the intention was a good one.

He wasn't an angry dragon under it all, for which Gwynell was forever grateful - or at least, he wasn't so angry as to blame those that he knew had nothing to do with what had gone on. The pair had come back to the Sands, and viewed the milling Candidates with heads both cocked to the side, before Gwynell shook herself and walked forward, nodding a greeting to Leshta before settling back against Willoth. The gray had stalked up behind her, staring down those who would try for his children. He curled into a ball around his rider, sheltering her against his body.

I'm back, Mama,[/i] Willoth said to Semith privately, It's quite pretty out, leaves are turning colors and the breeze is nice.[/i] He thought about saying more, then reconsidered, turning his attentions back to the Candidates. Anatu finished her latest flyover the eggs, landing on Willoth's head gracefully, settling in between his headknobs, a green hat.

Sing for me, he broadcast to the Candidates suddenly, You give gifts to my mother, give a gift to me, in lieu of my mate. Sing for me, so I can tell your intentions. A pause. Please, he added as Gwynell elbowed him in the ribs, accidentally-on-purpose as she leaned over to pick up her gitar from where she had left it.

[lithle]

For Senar:

Come in out of the cold, young man. Don't worry Images by Firelight egg doesn't judge you. So you've done bad things? Youthful indiscretion. It's sure you'll try harder, now. A good boy at heart, certainly. Even on the warmth of the sands, the egg projects a sheltering, comfortable glow of heat.

[firebird]

Senar was simultaneously reassured by the egg and worried by the arrival of one of the clutch-fathers. Would the grey take offense to the presence of candidates on the sands, especially prisoner candidates? Apparently not, though the request for a song was quite unusual. And also worrying. Senar wasn't much of a singer despite his parentage. He knew the words of a few songs, but that didn't mean much since his ability to actually sing them was mediocre at best.

However, he could not just ignore Willoth's request. It would be rude, and he would probably be ejected from the sands. Senar immediately began to think through the songs he knew all the words to. Some were quite old and nowhere near appropriate, given that Threadfall had ended a long time ago. It would be bad to sing about Threadfall around a clutch of eggs, anyway. On the other hand, singing about eggs was probably bad, too, given the recent theft.

Maybe... It was possible that this one would be appropriate? Don't wait too long, or Willoth will become impatient. Senar turned to face the grey and bowed to him, still making sure not to make any sudden movements. Don't bother with introductions or you'll start stalling. In a voice that just just so off-tune as to be noticeable, he began, "A heart that's true in harper blue..."

Good singing? Hardly! But at least it wasn't downright horrible.

[lithle]

((Sorry Zen! Forgot that Lattice was one of mine!))

For Ever:

The Elegant Lattice Egg seemed to do a mental stretch at the touch of a hand. Oh, was it that time already? There then, who was this? The egg pressed lightly against her mind, not intrusive, but certainly curious. There was a sense of quiet approval after a moment. There now, make your rounds. Oh, and do remember your station. It doesn't do for such a girl to think of herself as only a prisoner.

[Lesa]

Amisi brushed down her dress. Pappi had told her she probably shouldn't wear it, because of its color, but it was so pretty, and Gramammi Irja had worked so hard on the embroidery, she had to wear it for such an important event as the Touching. Or well, she supposed to herself, she didn't have to wear it. She wanted to wear it, so she could send Spots to Gramammi and tell her that she'd worn it to the Touching. The bright red dress swirled around her ankles as she skipped towards the Sands.

She'd heard she needed a gift for the gold Semith, and there were very pretty embroidered belts that Gramammi had made for her Turns ago that she'd kept, tying them together to make one that fit her waist, since they were from when she had been four and five and six. The embroidery was of flowers like Pappi's Sima, named after Mammi, the purple-pink bloom bright against the Ruatha-brown and leaf-green of the belts. Her current belt was much the same, the Sima between blue and brown firelizards like her Stripe and Spots.

Her two flitters peeped at her as she thought of them, Stripe perched officiously on top of her head like a hat, and Spots around her neck like a necklace. No shoulders for them, but she'd gotten used to it over the Turns, and now her head felt weird without them there. The thirteen-Turn old stopped skipping as she came to the Sands, having heard Willoth's announcement just as her booted feet sunk in ankle deep. She slogged through to Semith, giving a deep bow with a hand firmly on Stripe to keep him from complaining that he might fall off.

The girl smiled shyly at the gold and Leshta, untying the multi-belt-belt from around her waist and placing it in front of Semith's claws.
"I brought you a gift, Lady Semith. I hope you like it, Gramammi worked really hard on those belts for me, an' I think they're really pretty, like you." Her hands twisted nervously in front of her before she blurted out, "I'm sorry the eggs were taken, an' I know it hurts alot, like I miss my Mammi -" anything more she had to say was stopped as she clapped a hand over her mouth, blushing. She'd said too much again, she just knew it.

Swiftly she turned to the gray dragon (what an odd color, gray, she'd have to see if the dragon would let her touch him, just to see if the rumor that his hide felt different was true), her smile wobbly as the rider finished strumming her gitar. A song, a song, she needed a song. Couldn't remember any of the Teaching Songs, except the one the prisoner had already done. Oh no, oh sharding Faranth (and how Pappi would be displeased with her for swearing!), she couldn't think of a song, unless, did that count as a song? Maybe it did, maybe it didn't, but it would work.

She cleared her throat and tugged Spots' tail away from her neck.
"Day is done..." her voice wasn't the best, soft and wavering with nerves, but the sweet, clear sound of youth came through. It was the one song, the one lullaby she knew by heart, she'd always know it, because Pappi sang it to her every night.

--

Gwynell smiled at Senar's choice of song. A good one, considering her former/current occupation. Twanging gitar playing accompanied him as she tried her best. She was certainly better than she had been when she started before Impressing Willoth, but a little more than a year without a Master teaching meant that it was slow going. Still was better than making him go it alone, and her off-pitch playing made his off-key singing not sound as bad as her playing or his singing would have been alone.

When he finished she outright grinned at him, subtly nudging Willoth's mind with her own, Not too bad, thief, he growled, subsiding as Gwynell elbowed him again.
"Go on ahead and touch the eggs, I've got him, lad. Jus' ignore him."

The Harper turned her attention to a little girl (oh, alright, taller than her, but younger by far) who coughed and sang, Willoth unbending just enough to hum along with her last line.
"You're good, little one," Gwynell told her, "go'an and touch." And you, be nice like that to all of them, regardless of whether they're prisoners or not!
But he's a thief, the gray rejoined.
Doesn't matter, he wants to Impress a baby, not steal an egg. Get that through your head, numbskull. Willoth huffed and Gwynell quietly sighed, picking at single gitar strings and letting the tones sound across the sand.

--

With assurancies of a mother and father, Amisi stepped towards the closest egg. Tribal Beauty was a pretty thing, colored like some of Pappi's other flowers, like the Meruna and the Rukbatdawn.

[Zen]

Ever had not been perturbed when the gold’s situation remained firm. She did, however, claw the gifts closer to her body, her eyes faceted and watching. This touching was different from the last touching. It sent a shiver up her spine. The shiver had only just begun to leave when she touched the egg. The pretty little thing was not intrusive into her mind, a slight feeling of the extent of her mind. But there was also the slight push of knowing, of knowing that Ever had self-doubts about ever becoming anything more than a prisoner. It seemed to be telling her not to think of herself as only a prisoner. Her eyes widened perceptibly before she looked up in surprise as the gray clutchfather of Iiateth’s clutch winged over the crowd.

A song.

Oh fardles. Ever didn’t sing. It wasn’t that she couldn’t sing—most people could sing just well, it was the fact that she wasn’t so sure her singing voice was as good as it should have been. However, Senar sung and another girl quickly followed. She had worked up her courage, having dropped her hand from the egg, and now knew what she wanted to sing. “Harper, your song has a sorrowful sound,/Though the tune was written gay./Your voice is sad and your hands are slow/And your eye meeting mine turns away.” She sang with a voice not often so used to sing. It was low, like her speaking voice, with a hint of sadness to it that she also held in her speaking voice. The song was perfect for the occasion, wasn’t it? The gray’s rider was a Harper and this touching should have been a happy affair but certainly wasn’t because of the recent break-in and stealing of the eggs.

She cast an almost anxious glance at the gray and the golden clutch mother but decided to go forward with touching the rest of the eggs. She came easily upon the egg Senar had touched first, the Images by Firelight egg. It was a different sort of egg, though all eggs were different. At least it was there and not potentially dead wherever the outlaws were. Her outlook was happy as she gently touched the shell.

[lithle]

Semith's attention was almost completely taken up by the small number of candidates exploring the sands. Certainly, she was more intent than she had been last time a group of candidates had been near her eggs. Even so, there was nothing aggressive about her posture, she was merely watchful. The yellow of fear had begun to fade from her gaze, only to be replaced by a worried purple. Leshta lingered close to the gold, one hand on her foreleg, glancing up as Willoth arrived.

Semith turned more slowly, watching as he and his rider grew settled on the sands. They had gone to eat. Even now, after the drugging, Semith had her meals hunted for her. But now, they were brought to her by her only by those closest to her. She was not hungry now, having eaten a few days ago.

For a second, as Willoth spoke to her and asked the candidates to sing, purple was washed away by pleased blue. She liked singing.

Thank you, Willoth. Her mindvoice was soft, transformed from the bright noise of flutes to the mournful quiet of a violin. The songs are pretty.

With that, she turned her whirling gaze to the last of the candidates to come with this group, the youngest one. She crooned once, softly. She liked young things. And then she once again rested her head on her forelegs, her firelizards coming to settle along her neck.

[lithle]

For Ever:

Oh. Hello! The Images by Firelight Egg is all bright, warm enthusiasm. Isn't it a wonderful day for a touching? And Ever seems like such a charming young woman. It's pleasure at meeting her is obvious and it's all the more pleased at her happy thoughts. Yes. Be happy. There's much to do, but no reason not to do it cheerfully. Now, run along, and be a good girl. That's the ticket!

[nozomi]

For Amisi:

Don't be scared, little Amisi! The Tribal Beauty Egg won't hurt you! It is a bold touch to the girls mind, strong without trying to overpower her. It pushes close, and sends out a wave of affection to thee little girl. There there! Don't be scared. It's sire is only being protective. You have a lovely voice.

[Zen]

She saw Gwynell’s nod of approval (will be changed with a Lesa post), which seemed to be all that Ever needed to allow her to push her hand against the egg’s shell. Her happy thoughts seemed to swell and the egg knew it. Its enthusiasm washed over her as she touched its brown shell. It was optimistic itself and Ever grinned back at it as it projected pleasure into her mind. It made her feel even happier that she’d touched this egg. It made her finally feel like this touching was a good thing.

She laughed slightly, not loudly, as she left the egg. For a moment her eyes teared up but she quickly wiped the infantile tears away from her eyes in a maneuver that turned into pushing her blond hair behind her ears. She couldn’t show weakness, at least not like that. The eggs would think she was some sort of crazed psychopaths… and if not the eggs, then the ever-present watchers. It had taken her a lot to come here, physically and mentally, and she couldn’t let it show that she was both happy and fearful for what might come. What might come from these eggs, from these clutch parents, from the eggs the outlaws stole, from what the outlaws might do.

Right now, though, right now she was happy. And those tears wouldn’t do it. She stepped toward the smallest egg of Semith’s clutch and knelt down by it. Its soft green coloring and dusted gray overtones (or were they undertones?) seemed peaceful. The smile sat, still on her face, and it widened even more in anticipation. With a light heart, she touched the Misty Garden Egg.

[lithle]

For Ever:

What is that emotion? Wistfulness, perhaps. Sadness? It's very hard to nail down what the Misty Garden Egg is feeling. The emotions seem to becoming from a long way off, flickering and indeterminate. It doesn't seem to dislike her, but it's hard to say whether it's aware that Ever's there at all.