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The sun was just beginning to set on the Weyr, the last sliver of the sun dropping below the horizon. In the glow of twilight of the Night Watch began to gather, the first shift rising into the night sky just as the sun disappeared and the sky began to turn purple. The dining hall had finally begun to look empty, Riders and Candidates alike heading back to their cots and furs, most getting sleepy from the hot evening meal.

V'len thought he was dreaming as the first humming of the dragons began to fill the air, the bluerider turning over and covering his head with his furs. It wouldn't be the first time in the last few days that he had dreamed that the Hatching had started, and he knew he wasn't alone. The Touching had invoked a nervous, excited tension about the Weyr, as well as an insatiable need to pace. Frankly, the blonde was always amazed at the frenzy the Weyr got into when they knew a Hatching was near, dragons and humans alike. Even riders found themselves more anxious, more excitable, and a little more jumpy -- no one wanted to miss it, no one wanted to be late. Not that he could blame them. He himself had been feeling it's effects, finding that any noise made him snap to attention, his ocean blue eyes looking in the direction of the sands. He couldn't imagine what the Candidates where going through.

Still, as the days went by, things were just beginning to die down. Even as guests in the Weyr, the Candidates needed to work for their keep, and even the strongest of riders couldn't go for an extended period of time without rest. So things were settling, and after an exceptionally restless day had settled into his bed, his body relaxing as soon as it had been covered by the furs.

Mine.

Immediately the bluerider's eyes were open again, the realization hitting him only a moment after his dragon touched his mind. Grabbing his previously-abandoned tunic, he struggled to get dressed and head towards the Hatching Grounds.

It had begun.

Everyone knew the Hatching would be soon. The dragonriders were jumpy, the dragons were on edge, and the eggs… well, they looked just about ready to burst! Elae cleared her throat and rolled over on her cot, trying to get some sleep. After all, it would do no good to fall asleep at the Hatching, right? But tonight was just a bad night, for various reasons. Everyone just knew. Slowly, she drifted off into a particularly fitful sleep, one that teetered on the very brink of consciousness.

At first when the dragons’ humming started, Elae was convinced that it was just a dream, another dream of standing on the Sands. But, she was fairly certain that her dream shouldn’t include things like, “Come on, Elae! It’s time! Get your clothes on!” because she was already wearing clothes, silly! …Oh… wait… she pulled herself awake and blinked at her roommates, all of whom were hurrying about. The current events took time to filter through her brain. Clearing her throat again, she let out a yelp and pulled on the white Candidate robe and sandals.

It was time.

She moved onto the Sands with the rest of the female Candidates, staying towards the back of the crowd. Thankfully, she was wide-wake now, and eagerly watching the proceedings. After all, she had a few sixteenth-Marks riding on the colors of those eggs! Alright, so maybe she wasn’t wide awake… but, no one else was either. Not really.

Silly eggs. Why couldn’t they hatch at reasonable times?

Oh, thank Faranth the Hatching would be soon! Mal couldn’t wait! Of course, it wasn’t really the chance of Impressing a dragon he was looking forward to, mostly, although that idea certainly had its benefits. Mostly, it was the fact that, soon, he would no longer have to clean out the latrines! WOO! That sounded like a cause to celebrate to him! He paused that thought, putting one finger to his lips. Of course, the celebration would not include alcohol, in any way, shape, or form, especially that form of ‘stolen’.

It also wouldn’t include anything given to him by Veyes. Mal had been amusing himself by rolling a marble across the floor and watching Aeron hurtle himself after it. The Bronze firelizard just had so much spirit! It was hard not to admire him for it. Admittedly, it was a lot easier to resist his spirit when it was currently chewing on your hand, but Mal preferred to ignore that on the basis that Aeron was so fardling cute when he attempted to disembowel something. He was just preparing to roll the marble again when the humming started, fit to shake the bones of the very Weyr. The marble dropped from his fingers, into Aeron’s clutches.

It would probably never be seen again.

Mal pulled on his robes quickly, trying to ignore the fact that they had been made for someone a few inches taller than him and made him feel like he was wearing a tent. The sandals were better. Far too thin, of course, but at least the Hatching was happening at night. That meant he wouldn’t burn the soles of his feet off. His sandals flopping badly, he hurried to the Sands and bowed to the queen awkwardly. Only then did he move towards the front of the crowd, trying to get a good look at the eggs. Like just about everyone else in the Weyr, he had some money riding on the colors and wasn’t eager to lose any of it just because someone felt like arguing with him.

Riyinn was having a dream one where she was in the sands already, she could almost here the humming of dragons. Suddenly the crashes and bangs as other candidates rushed into their robs brought her around. With a jerk she ranked her eyes open still the humming was in the air. "hatching." someone yelled out and before she even had time to think she was part of the rushing group dragging robs and sandals on and running outta the room.

Grouping up the horde of girls quickly went to the sands, sleep was the last thing on her mind now, staring at the batch of eggs and then looking around her at the male group then the rest of the female group butterflys in her stomach.

Now? Really eggs? Really? That was cool. That was really sharding cool.

With a small sigh, the greenrider began to untangle himself from his...roommate. While normally he'd just skip the hatching in favor of a quiet evening in his weyr, his new station dictated he be there to help the newly Impressed with their crying dragons. Besides, Ialluth would never let him miss a hatching. The humming green absolutely adored the babies, even if she couldn't keep them, and even if they weren't hers, they were still so CUTE.

Come, Mine! Hurry!

F'sey groaned and spared C'ren a fleeting glanced before stumbling over to his side of the weyr, fumbling around with his clothes as he tried to get himself dressed. It wouldn't do him any good to go out in what he slept in (even though he had half a mind to stumble back here as soon as the Hatching was over and die underneath the furs as opposed attend the feast). He was just so tired, and sore to boot. Not that he'd ever admit it, not in a million years. He'd been working hard...and he was...old.

You are not that old, Mine. Just much more work than previously. Now, hurry!

And with that, the rider pulled on his boots and slipped out of the weyr, cursing to himself as he stiffly made his way down the hall. Much less fun than the night's previous activity. Or lack of, really. Being lazy had its merits. But no use complaining, the eggs waited for no man! And he'd never get a moments rest if those brats overfed their babies. The whole Weyr would suffer along with the keening dragons.

Go!

I'm here! And not late this time, he added to himself.

Was there any living thing in this Weyr that had even an ounce of decent timing? It had been a long day and, honestly, the only thing C’ren wanted to do was sit back, relax, and cuddle F’sey. Well, he would have liked to do more, but, it had been a long day. Besides, even if ‘Sey was trying to hide it… well, C’ren wasn’t a complete dimglow. He couldn’t miss out the fact that being the Weyrlingmaster was wearing his …roommate down a little.

When the humming started, his first instinct was to snuggle F’sey more fiercely, on the basis that, maybe if he was snuggly enough, the other man wouldn’t be able to move. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

Miiiine! Do you hear it? Ceylith’s voice cut into C’ren’s mind, as if the humming wasn’t already enough noise. The Green’s eyes swirled with excitement. It’s time, Mine! Come on! Get up! There will be time for watching Ialluth’s later! I know you like doing that, she added generously.

Now get up! We must watch! What if one of ours Impresses and we don’t know until Ialluth’s tells us? The Green continued to fuss and fidget until C’ren was finally ready, something that took far too long for Ceylith’s liking.

Mostly, C’ren just followed F’sey along closely, stifling an occasional yawn. Oh, and still pondering revenge on S’kagi. He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to do now… “Don’t worry, ‘Sey,” he said, patting the other man on the shoulder awkwardly. “We’ll pick up where we left off after the Hatching.”

Looking across the sands, trying to pick people he knew out of the arriving Candidates, Okassis managed to catch sight of Kyllae lining up with the girls. Trying to catch her eye, he flashed her a grin and a thumbs-up; good luck! he willed warmly toward her. It didn't seem to him like she'd much need it, though; she had to be a shoe-in to Impress. Maybe even with a good shot at the Gold, who could say?

But she was the only one he recognized immediately, and scouting around the sands, Okassis felt a twinge of worry. The others would be here soon, wouldn't they? They'd better be - dragon eggs waited for no one.

Turning around to get a better look at the rest of the boys, he managed to unintentionally jostle the elbow of a shorter boy with dark hair that, having pushed up to the front lines, was bowing to the Queen. Smiling apologetically to the unfamiliar face, Okassis was suddenly stricken to realize he'd forgotten to bow, and turned to correct his mistake quickly. Shards, he was nervous this time....

Firyal was perched on a countertop in the kitchen, still cleaning up after the evening meal. Numenor was with her, of course, helping her clear the plates by devouring anything that looked edible. E'rik was also there, although he didn't have to be, which continued to mystify her. He was completely distracted by Numenor, and paying her almost no attention, which was more like what she was used to from people, but she didn't mind. She would be the first to admit that Numenor was wonderful, and since she doted on him she could hardly fault someone else for doing so. Besides, she was busy and was still unable to gracefully accept E'rik's help in mundane chores. She believed quite firmly that such things were beneath him as a Dragonrider.

E'rik, the Hatching will start very soon. You should tell Firyal, Daramulath said. Even his mental voice seemed to vibrate a little, E'rik thought.

Thank you. I will, E'rik replied. To Firyal he said, "Dara says the Hatching will start soon. You'll want to put your robes on, I think."

"But...the dishes! And Numenor! He's not allowed on the Hatching Grounds."

E'rik looked at the bronze firelizard, who was seated precariously on a stack of dishes, picking at bits of left-over meat and raised his eyebrows. As they lowered his expression settled into a lazy grin and his voice into an easy-going near-drawl. "I think Numenor is distracted, and will probably fall asleep soon, but I can ask Dara to keep him with him, if you'd like. And I know the Headwoman will forgive you for abandoning the dishes to Stand. Dragons are rather more important, you know."

Firyal flushed. He was right, of course, and were she not so surprised by the news of the Hatching she probably would have been able to issue the command to Numenor herself, but instead she just nodded. She knew E'rik would understand that she meant for him to speak with Dara about Numenor.

"Will you watch?" she asked, halfway to the door.

"I think so. I missed the last one, after all, and this time I've got two Candidates to keep an eye on."

Firyal nodded once more and ran just as the dragons' humming began to be audible even to those not already bonded to one. In her room she saw that her roommates had either come and gone or not yet arrived. Judging by how neat the room was still, she suspected it was the latter, which calmed her some. There wasn't much chance she'd be late if the other girls had not yet shown up to change. She slowed down marginally as she dressed in the unflattering white robe that Candidates were required to wear and slid on the same pair of comfortable moccasins she had worn to the Touching.

She was not the first Candidate to reach the Sands, which was actually a relief, and she did know some of the others already present. Mal, of course, whom E'rik spoke of so frequently she felt she knew him although they had never really conversed after the previous Hatching. Kyllae was another she recognized from E'rik's descriptions. As she waited for more Candidates to arrive she looked into the audience, where the Dragonriders usually sat, to look for E'rik. He caught her eye and gave her a slow wink that made her wonder if he knew something she didn't. Probably.

From his vantage point E'rik found first Firyal and then Mal, both easily. He waved at Mal, though he wasn't sure if his friend had noticed. He probably had more important things on his mind.