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First Hatching

The Impressions / The Touchings

Aftermath

Her own blood was running down her arm and legs, the torn skin a testament to how hard she had scrubbed herself trying to get the blood of other Candidates off of her. But her skin was pink, clean underneath the streamers of her own blood. Her hands shook as she moved the cloth that she had used to clean her body and rinsed it off.

She bandaged the scratches carefully, hands desperately shaking. She wanted to leave this place. It was a bloodbath she'd been in the center of today, and she didn't know what had possessed her to try and get herself killed. She didn't care.

She would refuse to stand again; she would never Impress. She would never attend another hatching unless she was forced, never watch another human being be killed by the brutality that was a newborn dragon. She would never again feel her feet blister on the sands. And if a dragonet came to claim her she'd tell it to go between.

The last thought made her breath catch and she shook her head. To tell a dragonet to go between was... blasphemy. Even in her shock, she shouldn't have said that. Still, a corner of her mind wiggled in terror.

She had agreed to come here. She had agreed to take these chances. She would go back on her word. They needed kitchen help, and she didn't want to go home. She didn't want to be a Candidate anymore. She just...

Collapsed on her bed and cried. When she woke, the bandages were sticky with her own blood, and she could feel the waves of panic rising anew.