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Orlina held her breath as the Silver Impressed to one of the boys. She knew atypicals could Impress to anyone, but she did feel like most Silvers went to boys. She sighed faintly and then looked back to Eirlyn. There was one egg left. The egg that had had the thickest shell Orlina had ever felt (not that she'd felt many shells up to this point) and looked more like a rock someone rolled out of a quarry than a dragon egg (not that Orlina had been to many quarries). This was the last egg. The thought sort of hit her very suddenly. She hadn't Impressed yet. If this atypical wasn't for her, then she wouldn't have been Chosen by a dragon. She would walk away from the Hatching alone.

She felt a sort of cold sweat break out on the back of her neck. Was her mother watching? Her fostermother, not her birth mother. She didn't want her mother to pity her for not getting a dragon the first time around. Orothor had said there were other times, after all. He'd stood an awful lot and still... She looked up and found his face easily among the diminished ranks of the boys. He was still without his lifepartner. Maybe their mother's (birth mother's) genes were bad or... something. Maybe neither of them were meant to Impress.

There were suddenly a lot of maybes in her thoughts.

He had known it would take a strong hit or two, but three? It was incredible that the shovel had been able to crack the shell at all. Or that anything could have fit inside if the shell was so thick. Still, somehow Eirlyn managed and a Silver dragon half fell into the Sands before struggling to get the rest of the shell broken so it could escape and begin moving around to find its Chosen. Orothor admired his pale hide and the shimmering, almost molten metal of his wing membranes. It was always best to be sure, but he thought he should have realized the dragon in the egg was a Silver. Even when he showed off a little bit, he looked as if he full well deserved any attention he would get for his flapping and whirling. Up until he fell into the sand, exhausted from following his brother's lead with his posturing.

And when a voice cried out to him in need, Orothor was glad Eirlyn had managed to break the shell enough that the not-at-all-dazed hatchling had been able to escape.

It was like being hit with waves of warmth and joy, and the brief rainbow swirl of the eyes he met was more than enough to convince Orothor that he wasn't living in a daydream. Faintly, beside him, he felt his friend pushing at his arm, but he ignored it as he tried to get his bearings after being nearly knocked silly by the intensity of Adamanth's love.

Of course I am real. The girls were not for me. I would not have been so noisy, but I knew you were here. You were at the Touching twice, I felt you, but I didn't know where you were today.

For a moment, newly-pronounced O'thor was baffled by why, but his mind quickly went to work on the problem as he moved past the front line of boys to get to his collapsed lifepartner, his eyes only for the creature that had bonded itself to him forever. Perhaps his sexual preferences played in to confusing the newly-born dragon? He played both sides of the fence, as it were, and that might very well distract a dragon young enough to make him question whether the human he wanted was male or female.

Perhaps. The voice startled O'thor and his steps hesitated. Adamanth pushed on. You kept worrying about finding other jobs, other paths. I was worried you would leave before I found you. I believe I may have rushed in without thinking. You are the thinker, after all.

"Of course I wouldn't leave," O'thor replied as he knelt in the Sand by Adamanth and ran a firm, almost awed stroke down Adamanth's horns and crest. Adamanth hummed faintly. "You were so polite. It would have been rude to leave without seeing you Hatch." And I rather hoped you would come to me, O'thor admitted privately, though Adamanth heard anyway and replied as if it had been meant in another way than intended.

I am sorry, mine. I intended to make it all the way to you. Adamanth seemed genuinely chagrined as O'thor slid his arms under him and scooped him from the Sands. A Silver should be able to carry his own weight.

"It isn't your fault. Atypicals need a little more help at birth, that's all. Silvers don't always have to do everything themselves," O'thor said, keeping his voice to an intimate murmur as he stood, being careful not to over-balance and drop himself and his dragon back onto the sand.

That is how it is, Adamanth insisted firmly as O'thor carried him across the Sands, occasionally readjusting his grip on the baby dragon. Tiny though they were, they could be heavy after even a short time. It appeared his mind on this matter was unwavering.

"All right. But sometimes everyone can use a hand. It isn't not pulling your own weight; sometimes the task is more than your weight can handle," O'thor pointed out. "I'll show you. Do you think all Threadfighting dragons can do it alone? That's what wings and riders are for. To help each other, or to help you as you help us."

Adamanth was silent, and O'thor thought for a moment he was being ignored before a more pensive voice replied, Wings need many dragons, because the task is too great for one. The task of walking should not be too great for a Silver, though. I think you are right, though, in other matters at least.

O'thor smiled and finally set his exhausted Silver by the bowls. Adamanth, too polite to whine, looked beseechingly at the bowl of meat just out of his reach and O'thor reached out to pull it closer and begin hand-feeding the Silver. Adamanth took a piece daintily and then rearranged himself so he at least looked decent, though he was basically lying down with only his head up.

You may have to carry me back to the Barracks, mine.

"I know," O'thor replied, passing another chunk to his dragon. "I will. We'll have to find a better way to do this. I may have to speak to Mercy or one of the other atypical riders and see how they managed." Although he continued to feed Adamanth at a reasonable speed, his eyes were distant, obviously reflecting on the problem.

You will find a way, Adamanth broke into O'thor's thoughts, his voice sleepy but trusting. It was clear to the new Silverrider that his beloved would be asleep before they even left the Hatching Grounds. I could tell when you touched my egg that you would be able to find a solution to anything, though I think you think too much. We will fix these problems-- and help others-- together.