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Orlina eyed the Blue walking away from the girls and then looked back at the eggs. They were unmoving. Were they really duds? After a betweening, could Malvren have the bad luck to have any? Orlina thought they would all be atypicals. She refused to believe otherwise. After all, Malvren had plenty of them, for all that atypicals hatched weak. The eggs had to hold living, breathing babies inside. There were still so many on the Sands. Of course, not everyone Impressed. The many Candidates were so the dragons had choices. (Which made the Bronze betweening that much sadder.)

Orlina turned her head to see where the Green was gone and saw her rearing back to put her forepaws on one girl. The gentleness of the gesture suggested that this was not an attack, but Impression. She smiled and turned back to the much-diminished Clutch. Three eggs sat in the midst of shells, lonely little statues. Orlina looked at Eirlyn, and then at the Blue still making its way among the boys. Not much longer before they saw how many dragons the Clutch really had.

Aerith snorted slightly in derision over the foolishness of some people and in agreement with Moriath's statement. Though the white did not follow all of Moriath's strong opinions on males she did seem to prefer surrounding herself with females for the most part. 'well perhaps she has learned' The white stated after a few moments 'perhaps she merely got caught up in the excitement and did not think' Aerith continued, willing to give the girl the benefit of the doubt for the time being..and surely being shoved about by an angry hatchling ought to be the sort of thing that stuck in ones mind for a good while.

While she was aware of Aerith speaking to Moriath Mercy kept her attention on the sands, the remaining eggs were dwindling fast, and the hatching was likely to be over shortly - though those last eggs were still very much up in the air. there had been a good deal of rumors about some of them she recalled.

Morgaine watched as the little green impressed. And now that left the blue who was making it's way over to the boys. So far, other than that one dragon who had gone Between, each dragon had found their rider without much trouble. Even that green that had attacked one of the other girls had found hers. Turning her attention from the searching blue to the few remaining eggs Morgaine did a quick count. There weren't many left and there was about as many candidates left as there were eggs, perhaps one more. Time and chances were running out for her and the others to impress.

Orlina nearly jumped as the otherwise nervous Blue bugled and barreled towards Cyrci. Orlina turned her face as sand sprayed up from the Blue's sudden stop, and then looked between the dragon and Cyrci, a smile coming to her face! Impression! Cyrci had Impressed!

Orlina applauded along with the audience this time, genuine exuberance in her clapping.

Congratulations! She didn't dare shout it, as Candidates were supposed to remain poised, but she would offer her friend congratulations later.

A glance over at the Sands revealed that Cyrci had Impressed. Fantastic, Ralla thought dryly, Just what Pern needs is a dimglow for a rider. They'll be lucky if they make it through training. Before, the other girl's actions had made her think her an idiot, but as soon as Firith had Impressed to her, it had become more than that. She'd insulted her dragon, and that was completely unacceptable. In an instant, it had become a slight she would not forget.

What a pity. A hint of reddish-orange worked its way into Firith's eyes. If Bolth wants a fool for his rider, then he is a fool as well.

Eirlyn watched as the last of the hatchlings pushed forth and Impressed, leaving behind three eggs that hadn't really moved over the course of the Hatching. That was worrisome... but then again, it was always worrisome when eggs were left behind... one never knew if it was rotten goo or a living dragon inside. Feynath hadn't moved the eggs away from the rest, so there was a high chance of them being atypicals.

Which meant, of course... it was time to go golfing. Squaring her shoulders and hefting the instrument over her shoulder, she cut a ridiculous figure as she left Feynath's side and ran her hand along the golden neck, cheek, nose as the queen lowered her head to rumble at the candidates. Only the Weyrwoman could approach the eggs like this for she was never in danger from her dragon. Any other poor soul would face a protective mother with such an action.

Stopping near the eggs, she rolled her shoulders and lifted her head. Before she could speak, however, the rumble turned into a low roar meant to grab attention. When it faded, the Weyrwoman's expression was serious, "Alright Candidates! Form up and step up! Quickly and neatly, hurry! Remember the young ones don't have much stamina when they hatch so make sure you form ranks closer to... I promise Feynath won't bite your head." Her voice resounded easily, lifted so that all on the Sands could hear.

She waited for the lines to reform - a couple dozen individuals now - and gave a nod, turning first to the startling green egg. Winding up then giving a good solid thwack, the egg rocked back and forth then settled without further motion. Eirlyn frowned... was it a dud? She knocked it again, a little more lightly this time and something inside bleated a rather loud sound of protest as a portion of the egg fell away, sticking to the paddle of her Egg-Baton.

"Well get out here." She replied, nudging the egg again only to receive another sound of protest, "C'mon."

From the Candidate's point of view, it was hard to tell what was going on - it appeared as though their Weyrwoman was knocking an egg to and fro then prodding it with a consternated look on her face. Finally one dark wing poked out as the hatchling finally pushed free and stood on all fours staring up at the woman with the shovel who'd knocked him around with some irritation.

It seemed their first atypical was a black! And he stayed there a moment, huffing at Eirlyn, mildly dizzy, until she scooped his rear in her shovel and turned him about with a sigh, having to put her back into it. When the Candidates came into sight, he seemed to remember what he was doing and chirruped, flaring his oversized wings before he began toddling towards them.

The Weyrwoman's voice nearly startled Morgaine as events took a sudden turn. There were dragons still in those eggs, possibly atypicals, and they needed help getting out. Of course the eggs could also be dud, but no one would know until the eggs were opened. Doing as she was told Morgaine moved closer, eyes widening as bit as she watched the Weyrwoman seemingly whack the egg. It seemed like a terrible thing but it was the only way to get the dragons out if they were atypical.

Once closer Morgaine came to a stop once more and turned her attention to the Weyrwoman as she turned with the hatchling perched on the shovel. A black! Morgaine couldn't believe her eyes and smiled as the dragonet began to move towards the candidate, yet there were still a few other unhatched eggs that would need some help. Morgaine's attention was divided between the black hatchling and the still unopened eggs. Her eyes returned to the small black dragon as he made his way closer to the group she stood with.

The bellow and the summoning saw Orlina moving forward without much further prompting. As before, her tiny form was perfect for the frontlines, so she had a wonderful view for the hatchings of the final eggs.

Then Eirlyn raised her shovel and, with an envious backswing, throttled the egg so hard it rocked.

Orlina could feel how wide her hazel eyes were in her face. She couldn't even check to see if Orothor was as horrified as she was. All right, yes, she had known Eirlyn would have to break the eggs open for the dragonets inside, but... but that hadn't been a love tap she'd delivered to the egg! What if she had knocked the poor thing senseless? The look on Eirlyn's face, at any other time, might have made her laugh. She looked about as confused as any four-Turn-old Orlina had ever babysat for.

Then a wing made its appearance, one too dark to be a Silver or a Crimson-- unless it was a really dark Crimson-- and precipitated the appearance of the Black that looked as if he was glaring at the Weyrwoman. Orlina was so still she thought she was going to start shaking. He was so small. However, after a little turn from Eirlyn-- another thing she might smile over later-- the Black seemed to shed his irritation and stalked forward with the cutest little chirrup, walking over on his own like a two-Turn-old who had recently learned to walk upright without help. Orlina's heart was practically goo. If every atypical looked like this, she was going to have to be scooped up in that shovel of Eirlyn's and carried off the sand in a puddle. Would he come for the girls or the boys? With everyone crowded so close it was hard to tell.