[Hatching] Wounds Healing

[Evadne]

Oh thank you, greensister. I thought it was an excellent choice too though I dawdled. Dawdling made her leak. When she is done not-crying perhaps? Habilith's voice faded out and then in again, after an apparent check with Lostris. She is not not-crying, you know, he offered brightly, Sweat. My rider says that she has sweat in her eyes.

Lostris' shoulders began to shake. Her weeping had been silent, and motionless too. These new tremors came from the urge to chase her tears with laughter. But that was as inappropriate as bawling had been. Finally she lifted her head and performed a rough scrub of her face to erase the evidence. No secrets anymore, she thought, and was glad for it.

Kitath earned the first of the guard's post-Impression smiles, and she lifted her arm in a way that made a hook perfectly sized to a green snout. Her other hand raised in a sheepish acknowledgement for the ruckus that had broken out with Shea and Siata's efforts, then patted around for the cane.

"Step back, Habilith," she said, and the grey complied immediately. He stayed as close as he dared though, his whirling eyes touched with a happy array of curiosity, interest and of course, a growing hunger.

Hello! he sent to Faeth, thereby proving his ability as a multitasker. Such a nice thing to offer. My rider says she has it and we'll eat soon and where are you? Everyone is so tall. Are you...oh look there's food! And more of us! And shouting! By balancing against his tail, Habilith was able to rock back and stretch up to view the feeding area. A little wobbly but no more so than his chosen, who was struggling up onto her feet while the grey merrily chatted away.

Woooo is good? It sounds good. Good enough to give it a whirl himself. But alas, Hability could only barely approximate a woo. It sounded more like grrrraroogle played through a flute.

[puppetmaster]

Perhaps it was all the good vibes the Dew Drop Hatchling was filling the sands with. Whatever the reason, the Heartstrings Egg broke with a sharp crack, the two 'halves' of the egg crumbling into such small pieces that there was no longer any difference between them.

The Uncle Sam Hatchling was a lovely warm brown. Looking about, he spotted the Dew Drop Hatchling a look of patient irritation. Such a silly creature. For his part, he stood like a guard at attention, his wings pulled tightly against his body, his head up. It'd be rather a stretch to call the hatchling graceful, but he certainly knew how to pose.

Now, what was his duty at this time? Right. Find bonded. But first, to pay his respects. Turning to look at his parents, he lowered his head in a dragon's version of a bow. Then, with a sharp 180, he got to work.

Carefully sidestepping his playful semi-clutchmate, he marched his way to the candidates. Uncle Sam Hatchling reporting for duty!

[nozomi]

T'di always was a hugger. He hugged friends, lovers, family members - he had a well of hugs and a very large bucket. Shae, being in one of those categories and briefly in another, probably saw his share of them. However, he never imagined he'd be hearing a shriek of obscenties, followed by Shae letting out loud noises and grabbing him up in a hug-shake.

"Awesome! Yay, Lostris! Hurra--gak, can't breathe--" He laughed anyway, and squeezed at Shae. "I see! She has a handsome gray! Does this mean he's going to be smaller then Kitath? I mean, those grays aren't big at all. She looks happy, though!"

A pause. Then: "I mean, that's what she looks like when she's happy, isn't it?"

[giftwrapped]

And then there was one.

"Faranth, Lostris, awesome!" Kas grinned and considered reaching out to clap the woman on the shoulder, but he didn't want to risk unbalancing her. So instead he turned the reach into a sort of awkward fist-pump and hoped he wasn't making a total idiot of himself. But anyways, there were plenty of folk to keep an eye on Lostris now, and Kas risked a glance over his shoulder at the Sands. There was...some silly-looking little purple thing doing Faranth-knew-what and looking very cute while she did it, and a brown who reminded Kas a lot of an old guard friend he'd had.

What an old stick-in-the-mud that man had been. He'd transfered after only a little bit, probably because Warden's wasn't quite the right kind of discipline for him. But, Kas had to admit, he'd been a hoot under the right circumstances. And he missed the guy sometimes. Go, grumpy little brown, go! Find Yours! Presumably the sort of Yours you could gripe at for not polishing his boots! And now Kas was just being silly. He stole another glance in Lostris' direction (and smiled a bit) and then returned his gaze to the forest.

Woooooo guarding!

---

Serdek watched quietly, but when the purple hatched, she gave it the same almost-smile she usually reserved for Siata when she was being stupid or adorable. She had to admit, the little thing was precious. And a sidelong glance at her fellow Candidates showed her the man that the now-silverrider had been narrating to. He looked nervous. For a moment, Serdek dithered, but she took a step closer to Senar and began to speak in a low, quiet voice. She wasn't Orren or as enthusiastic as him by any means, but if she could help...

"It looks like there's another purple dragon Hatched," she began, glancing hesitantly at Senar and wondering who would have shown up on the Sands if they couldn't see - what if a dragon came a-mauling? It was stupid, but...well, she could almost understand. There was a draw to dragons. A draw that she couldn't deny. And so she'd help the poor kid out. "It's not doing much, just...pouncing around. Doesn't seem to want to Impress just yet, I guess?" She shrugged, though Senar couldn't see it.

And then the brown broke shell and Serdek watched it for a moment. "Serious little brown just showed up...doesn't seem to like the purple much. He's coming this way, but I think he's all right? Don't know. He's just...oh, he's standing at attention. That's interesting." This 'narrating everything that happens aloud' was weird, and Serdek wasn't sure she liked it, but it kept her focused and at least this way the poor sap wouldn't be terrified. Terrified was bad.

[puppetmaster]

Dew Drop quite liked her clutch-mate! He did his little stomp-stomp-stomp about and she let him, content to frolic about like a newborn colt. Did she count as a colt? A filly? Did she care? Not overly so. Her game of tag ended when he tromped away, leaving the small purple stranded. She stared after him and chirped, a confused noise, and scrambled on after him.

Wait!

Where was he going?!

The purple shook her head, looking to the Candidates beseechingly. Did they know where she had to be? Dew Drop looked over her shoulder again, to her sire - oh! She hadn't known her sire was there! And look! A gold!

She chirped a(nother) greeting at the three, once more forgetting that, haha, right, she had to Impress.

OH she had to Impress.

Dew Drop promptly took off towards the Candidates. No guards for her! No Stands Impressions! Nope, she wanted only the best, the one waiting just for her, keeping all to herself so Dew Drop could find her!

Ever-Love! Ever! Your Gaeth is here! Did you see me? The purple screeched to a halt at her Riders feet, staring up at her with a puppy's eagerness. I remembered to come and find you, Mine!


Name: Gaeth
Color: Purple
Flower: Hydrangea
Hex: FF33FF

Appearance: While born smaller than a gray, Gaeth will be on the medium sized scale for a purple, still larger then even Ramoth. The majority of her body is an unbroken and lovely maroon. It is her feet that add the 'flare', in that each foot has a brilliant vermillion sock on it, vibrant and bright. Her claws, like all purples, have that sparkle to them. It makes her have the appearance of a pretty pretty princess in the sunlight.

She's okay with that.

Physically, Gaeth is a beautiful dragon. She may be a bit round, but that is all feminine prowess right there! Muscles, yes, but not overly so, her frame long and perfectly formed. Being the big girl she is, it's probably a good thing she isn't as round as some of her siblings - that'd be a lot of messes when she started getting bigger and bumping around!

Personality: Dragons have bad memories. We know this, it is common knowledge. Gaeth, however, does not. She is quite blissfully unaware of just how horrid her memory really is - and by blissful, it's literal: Gaeth may not love everyone, but she would certainly like to try to! When it comes to short-term memories, Gaeth is rather horrid, constantly forgetting names and places, whether or not she had a wherrie or a herdbeast, but if something is drilled into her enough, she'll remember. It means that lessons will be hard for her, but once those drills are learned and rules taken in, she will never forget them.

Gaeth adores everything about her rider, right down to physical disfigurements, bad haircuts, or personality quirks. Flaws are interesting, and hers is the most interesting person ever since anything. Thankfully this isn't a blind and puppy like adoration; Gaeth will only bond to someone of a truly admirable and good hearted spirit. Oh, she finds positive things everywhere, but she has standards for hers. High standards.

Activity is a must for this big girl. She likes people, places, experiences, and will try to fly probably earlier then the rest of her clutch. Being large means stamina, baby, and that, at the very least, she remembers. She is not a flirty dragon by any means, but her Flights will happen with great frequency. Even so, there will be little to no warning of her becoming proddy, and her interactions with males lean towards the friendly, platonic nature rather then anything desiring a Chase.

Being the center of attention and being able to spread her wings to just fly makes Gaeth so very happy. She has fun, and, sometimes, it ends in cuddles.

Her sense of humor often runs to the obscure and makes sense to only her and her rider. Gaeth won't expect everyone to get the brilliance of her jokes, but they should laugh anyway! After all, it's funny! Just - on a less obvious level. Probably.

Why me?: Ever is the mothering sort, endlessly patient, and she takes others flaws in stride. She will be the mature side to Gaeth, giving her a sharp mind for details, and the sort of leadership the purple will need in order to learn those drills and be the best dragon she can. With Gaeth, Ever will have someone to keep her laughing and young, someone to take her into social situations and boost her confidence when she needs it.

[Zen]

Ever-Love! Ever! Your Gaeth is here! Did you see me? I remembered to come and find you, Mine! Small, so small. Tinny. The screech in her head was small and tinny. It was strange, suddenly hearing such a strange, alien thing in her mind. The little purple-colored dragon skidded right up to Ever. She was small. So small.

It was not hard to see the difference between the little thing in front of her and the girl herself but as soon as the purple spoke in her mind, she dropped to the ground and covered herself over the little purple dragon. Purple. Ha! Had she known at the last hatching that a purple would hatch out of an egg that was meant for her, then she'd probably scoffed and looked away. That is, assuming she'd had enough energy to even scoff in the first place.

"Gaeth!" Ever murmured as she pulled away from the small purple. "Oh, Gaeth, you're so wonderful." She paused to pick off a piece of shell from the dragon's headnobs before scratching the purple in just that spot on the ridge of her neck that made Gaeth practically purr. "You're so beautiful!"

You did see me. I'm so happy! Gaeth mewled into Ever's brain. Her happiness was astounding, as if she lived in the now. Ha! She did live in the now, but Ever'd have to figure that out some other time. I have something in my stomach that won't go away. Then her voice brightened, Let's have fun now! Eats and then fun!

Ever blinked and then nodded, "Alright, Gaeth, let's go eat. And then fun."

[S'yal]

For a bit, up until the purple and brown had hatched, Z was worrying he had gone colorblind. Oh, sure, he'd seen the first purple. But there had been grays and a silver and a sharding white on the sands and it'd made him dizzy just thinking about it. Here he thought dragon hatchings were colorful affairs, what with all the pinks and blues and greens and shards dragons were ridiculous.

This is why Z preferred Whers. They stayed nice and predictable, except when they were throwing psychotic golds and tiny white whers at him. Z rubbed his forehead, eyeing Semith's golden hide for a moment. Maybe it was all the inbreeding dragons did.

Yeah, that was probably it.

"This hatching is boring compared to the last one. A woman stripped at the last one." Z spreads such wisdom. He wasn't even talking to anyone, but talking made him feel a bit better. At least the hatching had distracted him from his depression for a bit.

Baby dragons still ugly. Zalmask's still stupid. Everything same.

... Nah, there's no Warden yelling at me for cheering on stripping women. Z smiled despite himself. Did Warden even yell at him last time? Z couldn't remember. That made him sad. He missed his grumpy sort-of-friend-sort-of-boss!

... Zalmask's is stupid.

Go to sleep. I'll tell you about all the purple dragons tonight, queenie.

[giftwrapped]

"Dexeth."

La couldn't keep the grin off her face as she looked at her apprentice. "Faranth, Ral, you -"

She couldn't even find words for it. And as she straightened up, another boy - the one who'd Impressed the - what was that. Silver? Silver? Oh Faranth almighty, today was the best day of all. Except L'vey's comment about looking Dexeth over after the Hatching drew her attention back to the Sands. She had been neglecting it, them, Kith's eggs. And she should head back to Leshta, shouldn't she? "I'll do just that, L'vey," she remarked lightly. "After. I'll look over all of them. Including this handsome silver little fellow." Grinning, she reached out to squeeze Orren lightly on the shoulder.

"Congratulations, kiddo. I'll be seeing more of you."

And then she sashayed off, humming quietly to herself.

[firebird]

Someone was talking to him! Not the previous person! A stranger! Senar jerked in surprise as the voice (to him) came from nowhere. Whoa whoa whoa wait. Calm down. No one here can possibly be dangerous. The guards wouldn't let anything go on that could upset the hatchlings, especially not on the sands. This is just a second person who wants to help you. You know, with the whole not seeing thing? Silly boy.

"D-do all the purples prance, you think? The other one did too." Good. Talk. Remember that little thing called conversation, Senar? Don't rub your eyes! Put your hand right back down at your side, right now! Just talk. Distract yourself. "And that's an odd brown, being all formal like that. Actually, I think one of the eggs I touched gave off a formal, authoritative feeling. Which egg did the brown hatch from?" he asked the woman.

[puppetmaster]

While the Uncle Sam hatchling certainly projected 'military' with every move it made, there was nothing about it's examination of the candidates that said 'inspecting the troops. No, the little brown was a bit too differential for that, it wasn't a general, just an extremely dedicated grunt.

Someone get this dragon a crew cut and rifle and send him off to take the outlaws! He was ready!

He was making progress, moving along the line with careful, deliberate steps. This one?

No.

That one?

Afraid not.

How about the next? He nudged Corvis, snuffed him, but moved on. Not that one either.

Back among the eggs, the Masked Menace Egg was shaking violently. Fragments of shell were beginning to flake off, showing a yellow hide underneath. Suddenly, the Uncle Sam Hatchling was running along the line. He seemed to know exactly where he was going.

A shriek, half fear, half anger, as the Wounded Guardian Hatchling burst out of her egg, eyes whirling the yellow of fear, but touched with the red of anger.

The yellow stared around the sands, hissing, wings open, teeth bared. The Uncle Sam Hatchling hissed in turn leaping in front of Senar, his wings open his pose protective.

Off the sands, SenarLad. Now! She's frightened. We must get you away. Hand on my wing, I will lead you. Quickly!

Name: Obeth

Art Type: Propaganda (Particularly, American, WW2 era)

Hex Code: 996644

Appearance

The best way to describe Obeth is certainly 'military'. He seems born to stand at parade rest, with his severe lines, obvious muscles, and proud, curved neck. He's not elegant, exactly. Indeed, if there was ever a dragon that needed a buzz cut, it'd be Obeth. But he's not fierce looking either. He's powerful, yes, but there's nothing aggressive at him, at least not judging by looks.

In color, he's a warm, middling brown. The sort of color one gets after adding milk to a fresh cup of coffee. Yes, he's a refreshing brown, a wake up and smell the roses (or coffee, or klah, just so long as something's being smelled). His tones are even, not patchy like some of his siblings. He does however have a star-like mark in darker brown on his forehead and spots along his rump in the same color.

Personality:

Obeth is the best little dragon you ever could meet. At least, that's his goal. Some dragons are fixated on leading. Obeth, by contrast, is probably the most devoted follower that anyone could ask for. Oddly, this very obsession may someday thrust him towards leadership. A creature of loyalties, Obeth lives for his rider, his wing and his Weyr. But not necessarily in that order. A dragon that deeply respects rank, he'll disobey his rider before he'll go against the orders of the current Warden.

His loyalty to his Weyr is his defining feature in more than mere obedience. Obeth strives to uphold the values that he believes Warden's Weyr stands for. Obvious ones, like law and order but also redemption and the cultivation of the new. Obeth believes simultaneously, that people must pay for their crimes and that everyone deserves a second chance. It leaves him a little confused sometimes. While his hide may be a nice, traditional brown, he's a strong advocate of his irregular brethren. They're the 'new' he wants to cultivate. Oh, he won't go against Weyr regulation (he'll never go against Weyr regulation) but it'd be unwise to insult the irregulars in his presence. Which isn't to say he likes all of them, he's simply willing to judge them on their actions.

Outgoing and personable, Obeth none-the-less struggles in the 'friend's making' department. Somehow approaching peers with an enthusiastic 'Let's practice our flying drills and be the best we can be!' fails to get as many 'hell yeahs' as he expects. It's not that Obeth is all work and no play, instead, he genuinely considers work to be play. Who doesn't enjoy a good wingdrill? Doesn't everyone's heart flutter with pride when they call out a hearty 'yes sir!'? Of course they do. He must simply be communicating wrong.

When it comes to his rider, Obeth mingles the attitude of a cheerleader with that of a drill sergant. His will be their best. He'll see to that. And he doesn't really care how. Bribery? Sure. Begging? He's not too proud. Threats? He can get pretty creative with those. Obeth is a believer, heart and soul. And his belief that his rider is absolutely amazing is unshakable. So he will help them reach their potential, even if they're dragged kicking and screaming to that point.

Why Me?

Oh, Senar. You darling, wayward boy. Making decisions without thinking them through? Dodging responsibility? Sound like some familiar flaws? Well, Obeth'll have none of that. He can see potential, and in fragile, lost Senar he sees heaps of it. Obeth needed a rider who wasn't as driven as he was (lest he drive himself into the ground) but one who wasn't unwilling to make attachments. In turn, Obeth needs someone in his life who isn't quite as devoted to the cause as he is, someone to be the voice of reason when he can only hear a marching tune.

[Inkwell]

"R'en," said the newly-named weyrling in response to R'vyn's introduction, taking the offered hand for a firm shake (and following R'vyn's example in using his non-meat-covered hand). It was odd, using his new rider's name, the one he'd decided on only the night before in the off chance he actually managed to Impress. Might as well start now, though! "We're going to be seeing a lot of each other now, I guess. And yeah! This is Afilith. He's definitely a boy. And your white, is it... I mean, I've heard they can identify either way? But I guess since there's only ever been one I can't really trust the rumors on that."

He almost laughed at L'vey's warnings against overfeeding his handsome little silver. Of course, it was obvious that Afilith was already more generous in proportion than the other dragonets, so it was a very real concern. It was just the irony of being a cook and being warned against overfeeding someone that struck him as ridiculously funny. What he actually said was,

"I'll be careful, sir. I think he's just tired out. Getting out of those shells... it's like I was telling that boy over there who won't open his eyes: it looks exhausting."

It is! But this meat is very good and soon I think I will be full and ready for a nap. I think a nap would be a very good idea. Though I want to meet this friend of yours, first. He said I was handsome! He licked a bit of blood from his snout and churred curiously towards R'vyn and Dexeth.

Well, we'll be in weyrling classes with them, so I think we'll have a lot of time to get to know them. They seem nice, though, don't you think? I mean, most of the candidates this round have. We're going to be a good group.

He looked up quickly when he felt the pressure on his shoulder that was La's hand. He hadn't noticed her! But when her words sunk in, he grinned and nodded eagerly. "I expected as much, miss. I can't wait to get started." He expected that a new color would require a much more thorough examination, especially since thus far there was only one of them. And that was two people who had called his Afilith handsome!

I am handsome! Just like all of my brothers and sisters. I think the entire world is handsome, actually.

I think you've just about got it right.

[firebird]

Off the sands, SenarLad. Now! She's frightened. We must get you away. Hand on my wing, I will lead you. Quickly!

Senar had not been expecting another person to start speaking to him out of the blue. He certainly did not expect that person to be a dragon. His dragon. The warmth of Impression was roughly shoved aside by the brown's words. And, of course, the hissing of both dragons. Nearby danger was always a good motivator to get moving, he had found.

With a quick, "Sorry, gotta go!" to Serdek, Senar took hold of Obeth's wing and let himself be led away. At a quick pace. Um, make that a very quick pace. Actually, they were both pretty much running.

Obeth stopped only when the two of them had reached the very edge of the sands, far away from the newly-hatched yellow. You are safe now, lad! Now we must see to the safety and happiness of my brethren! the dragon said as Senar (S'nar? He would have to get used to this...) tried to catch his breath.

"Aren't -huff- you hungry, though?" S'nar asked between breaths as he rested his arm across the brown's neck. Why was running so tiring?

I can be hungry after the rest of my siblings hatch. It would not do to stuff himself like a glutton while fellow dragons were fighting free of their shells!

S'nar didn't really think that was a good idea. Hatchlings had to eat, he knew that! Bracing himself mentally, he pried open one of his eyes and quickly tried to look for a supply of meat. Nope, everything was just too blurry. He hated it when he had movement-only vision. And it wasn't likely that Obeth would help him find it, given what he had just said.

[Spiffy]

"I think so," Shea said in response to T'di's question. "The grays so far seem to be smaller than greens, and Kitath is a pretty big green," he finished, reminding himself as much as the bluerider. He was so used to Kitath being The size she was now that she had finished growing he often forgot she was not only larger than most greens, but a few blues too.

Said green, meanwhile, rumbled happily in response to the little gray. Then if it is just sweat, then you have nothing to worry about, she said reassuringly, though the look she turned on Lostris said she had realised otherwise. Crying at impression was common. Laughing was only natural. Hers had done both, and far more openly than Lostris.

She heard her name then, in the Weyrlingmasters voice. She nodded, seeing as she had already offered to help. As Lostris reached out her arm, Kitath obligingly placed her muzzle in the crook, offering her support to stand up. It was good are Lostris smile, she did so but rarely.

Supporting Lostris on her way to The feeding area, the green left the weyrling where she settled. Gently picking up a meat bucket in her mouth, she deposited it in front of Lostris and her gray. Eat slowly, try not to choke, she told the Habilith gently.

She looked back to the hatching then, just as Ever impressed the purple. Good. She remembered Ever, the one who had lost her fingers last time around. Then the yellow hatched, hissing, the little brown hatchling running off toward Kitath with His new rider. Kitath did not hiss back, but she recognised the danger as much as Obeth did. Stretching her wings, she reached them out to either side, obscuring many of the newly impressed from the yellows view. She also blocked the weyrlings view of the hatching, most of them anyway, but it was for their own good, ppotentially.

[Evadne]

Lostris felt as if her senses had sharpened to the point of the world being incomprehensible. Everything she saw and heard was doubled by Habilith's perceptions. Kaskirk was grinning at her and making odd gestures with his hands but she could only give him a blank stare. Later, later she would have to apologize for suffering the effects of shock. Once on her feet and her canes safely in hand, thanks to Kitath's assistance, she dipped her head to the other guard.

Now, to eat.

I have friends already, Habilith announced as he fell in beside her, minding the the canes as Lostris worked them carefully over the sand.

You do, she agreed silently. You always will.

Kitath's wings were up, her view of the sands blocked. By the sounds being made, Lostris supposed there was unpleasantness occurring. But she couldn't think of that past the aching in her own belly. Habilith was doing his best not to dwell on his hunger but she could feel it. The relief felt when they found a patch of open space to settle on and meat was provided was mutual.

I am too eat slowly and not to choke, greensister says.

"I won't let him choke," she grunted as she lowered herself to a seated position again. The bucket of meat so kindly provided was cradled in her lap, the tiny portions doled out slowly. He contrived to eat with one eye on the others hidden behind their protective guardians. Lostris maintained her silence; Habilith was in a chatting mood. Of course.

Hello! He couldn't churr to the others with his mouth full but his mindvoice was bright and persistent and proud. You all did so well.

[puppetmaster]

Almost everyone had popped from their shells - including the Wounded Guardian. Even though she'd begun her hissing and dramatics, it did not keep the Taste of Fire egg from springing to life. There was no crazy rocking about for this egg, nothing overly showy or ridiculous the way some of it's siblings had been; the egg only gave four brief, firm jerks before the front half of it was kicked away by four small dragon legs.

A reprimanding trill left the hatchling curled up inside of it's shell, sent directly towards the Wounded Guardian. While disapproving, there was no anger or irritation in the noise (at least, not to someone who knew how to speak dragonet-noises). And then, out trundled the Dragon's Breath hatchling.

He stretched out as a cat wound, deep pink hide nearly purple save for the brighter splash of pastel along his face and wings. Small compared to his fellow colors, Dragon's Breath never the less stood proudly once finished with his movements, chest puffed out to survey the crowds. No pretentious little stares, no boasting, simply confidence, his head held high.

Dragon Breath looked towards his hissing sister on the sands, eyes tinged yellow before flicking back to their soft swirling greens and blues. His stare lasted only a moment before the male began to delicately step around and over shell fragments, making his way towards the guards.