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Allaxon grinned at the browns theatrics. He wished the boy well and hoped that he had enough energy to keep up with his energetic dragon. He had just noticed that Lilias was one of the girls who had impressed a green. And what a lovely green at that. He hoped the mellow creature would dilute her temper a bit. Yes that was the guiding light green she would be very well loved indeed.

He shuffled closer with the other candidates when the Weyrwoman called. He bit his lip as she slung the hatching shovel and it thwacked into the egg and deposited a grumpy black onto the sands. Ooo he was pretty, with enough spice to keep things interesting.

Phew. Part of Nawa was relieved when the black made for the boys. He didn't look terribly happy, and she didn't want to be in his way - and she couldn't be, with his focus on the other group. Of course, fi he was looking for a boy, that also meant he wasn't hers...not that she expected it, at this point. It was easy to hope when there were more than a dozen eggs, but once you were down to one and a dragonet, it got harder to stay positive. Especially when you were hurt.

Lena wasn't quite sure if it was energy or merely grumpiness that led the black to snort and huff at the Weyrwoman, but soon enough he was huffing and grumbling his way over to the boys. Lena was a little relieved, personally; she knew it didn't actually matter when dragons chose you, you just went along with it, but she'd felt since the Touching this one wouldn't be interested in her.

Candidates these days.

E'lai was amused that Eltimioth's mood seemed to be taking on that of the black currently on the Sands. I doubt you even remember 'those days', he teased. I'm sure that girl from earlier knows better than to cause any trouble now. For one thing, she'd likely find herself stopped from Standing. At any rate, things were winding down in the Hatching now, and as the black was headed for the boys and there was one egg left yet to receive the touch of the Weyrwoman's shovel, chances for S'ren's candidate friend had dropped dramatically. Hopefully she'd have a strong enough will to Stand again...well, if that was what she wished to do.

The black would lift his head, orient himself, then continue to toddle forward, weaving through the boys. When he finally recovered from the poor beginning, the black lifted his head and started to walk much more proudly, the keen edge of intelligence shining in his eyes. This was no grumpy dullard - this black was prehaps someone demanding and capable both, unusual for a black, really. And it really only meant more trouble - when the trickster manifested, oooi the Weyr would be in for it!

He whuffed and, tiring, came to a huffing, panting stop in front of Zerivon and looked up at the youth, Feed your Zetath Zerivon. Only you can do it well enough.



With the black Impressed, Abigail gave a nod of approval and padded over to the last egg - the Void Egg. This one had confused her as well as many of the Candidates. What would it hold? Nothing for it but to break this shell too!

With a soft hup, she lined the tool up and whacked the shell once, twice. Thick shell! The second thwack, however, seemed to jar some activity out of the hatchling and a dark foot stuck out, quickly followed by another (tiny) black that sat on the sands with a sharp gaze and all the presence of the gold for the miasma of pessimism around him.

This was a dragon who saw and felt much. When he refused to move, she sighed and prodded him with her shovel, even lifting up his rear in the effort and, puffing from the dead weight, she gave a shrug as she looked up at Brakiath.

The black wasn't moving, though, because he was observing. All of them. Judging them, seeing through them, cutting through the pretense and sunny dispositions to the tender portions of the Candidates that were hidden away. This complex little bundle was certainly aloof! Would he not get up and go find his? Or was this eagle-eyed inspection enough?

Abigail watched with some apprehension, worried.

... Well, this last black certainly seemed... cheery. He just about made Lifth and Opeth both look like little rays of sunshine.

... I would prefer you not to compare me to Opeth. Nor this black.

Just checking to see if you were paying attention~ But seriously, G'brel had to wonder who exactly would be a match for a dragon of that nature. Would it be someone chipper, like Xan was to Opeth, or would it be someone equally as gloomy?

Aaaah, the black found His amongst the boys; one Lena didn't know well. There were several of those she'd met at the candidate party standing yet; one egg to go. It certainly looked like another Hatching without a dragon for Lena; in a way she was part relieved. Though then the inevitable choice always surfaced--keep Standing, or try and make her way in the world before she fell too far behind her age peers in the various Crafts, those without the urge or inclination to attempt courting a dragon.

Another black emerged from the last egg; she'd been right on the color then. She'd also been right in that it seemed to be a terrible pessimist, and in a way she sort of hoped he picked a brooding rider. The sight of them together...! Still, he wasn't all gloom. That was intelligence in the black's draconic eyes, surveying each and every candidate remaining. What he was looking for...Lena hadn't the slightest idea.