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Breathless, Malina watched as the Green Impressed to one of her fellows, and let out a huge sigh of relief. Oh thank Faranth! She would have been so sad if that little Green had gone between. She'd particularly been fond of her, and it made her weak with relief to see her safely paired off. There would be no sudden death for that little darling. Slowly, she let her muscles relax, losing the tense set to her shoulders. It would be okay. That Brown looked like he was pretty happy to be there, and that was much, much better than what she could have expected otherwise. Really, after all the trauma they had gone through as eggs (even though they weren't from the Crimson's clutch), it was a minor miracle that he was so calm. At least, Mali thought so.

Slowly, S'raid's eyes trailed back to the Hatching Sands again. Hmmn, a Brown was it? Better than a Green. Crackdust, but he was bored of this already. Still, there was something to be said for waiting and watching what they would do with the eggs that did not hatch-- Faranth knew that Galvanth would just as soon that they take the sharding things between, but of course at Trine they followed no such practice. He wanted to observe the 'ritual', as it were. Would the creatures be as disgustingly small as their firelizard counterparts? There was, of course, the question of whether they were elevated much above flits. Galvanth didn't think so, though he had responded instinctively to the Crimson. There was something in that, he decided. Even aggrandized flits could be flown to fight Thread, should the need arise for them. He had heard some wherrybrained talk about them being special somehow, and wanted to see what exactly that entailed... if anything at all.

"Oh they're all doing so well!" Tor exclaimed to Xan under the cover of the gasp the crowd made when the loud brown emerged. "I can't believe I'm seeing all of this!" His focus was thousandfold what it usually was, he knew he would remember this moment as clearly as he remembered walking the tables, and the attack that had cost him his vision and a good friend... But there was no time for the past; in the present a new egg was moving! "See, Xan, that orange one with the track marks!"

"...Hu, yea," his companion squinted for a moment, and then got the blank look riders had when they used their dragon's eyes. "I didn't notice that. Good spot, Tor."

"Thanks!" the harper almost squeaked. "I can't wait to see what it is!"

Akaya chuckled at the brown now moving amongst the boys, friendly and welcoming. He reminded her a bit of that green she'd come to the Weyr on--Eltimioth, wasn't it? The one who was friends with Tereth. Surely this brown would have little qualm with speaking to others, from his manner... Would he Impress someone similar in manner, or someone more shy, and help them out of their shell, so to speak? (She filed away that pun for later use)

But her attention could not be held fully by the brown, and she thought she glanced an egg moving more insistently than the others--had it been her imagination? Now that she thought of it, all the eggs that had hatched so far had been Brakiath's...were Alumanth's eggs all right? Were they perhaps all Atypicals, in need of aid to escape their thick shells?

Oh, and he was such a pretty fellow up close! Jalarant sighed when he was nudged by the dragon, smiling at the little fellow. Oh, now you were a perfect little one! Would you find yours down here on the sands, or would you too head off towards the stands?

So focused on the brown, he didn't notice any other eggs rocking nor hatching. You could command attention, little one!

Well...that might not be good was his first thought as Devlin noted the newly hatched blue and his rather menacing red eyes. He was going straight for his brown sibling and Devlin wondered briefly if there would be a fight between the two. Did that happen in hatchings? He had no idea really but the blue certainly didn't seem pleased with his sibling - maybe he just wanted the other to move?

Would the dragonets kindly get on with it? S'raid's patience was nearing a middle, which meant that now not only was his hand tapping absently, his foot was doing the same. It was all well and good for there to be two perfectly suitable (if somewhat inferior, by his lights) colors out on the Sands, but they were dithering about as though this was not the most important moment of their lives. He glared down at him, and shook his head. Galvanth had known immediately that he was his rider, after all. ... And perhaps some of S'raid impatience stemmed from his own experience waiting and waiting, and waiting to Impress. Each Hatching had drawn out like some kind of water torture, and he hadn't enjoyed them nearly as much as most Candidates seemed to. But then again, he had merely been interested in finding and achieving his proper place.