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It was time. The eggs were hatching, and Dusen was a little nervous. He had rushed from the lake, where he had been relaxing, when the humming had started, and had darted back to the barracks as quickly as he could, joining the rest of the candidate changing into their robes.

They had moved from there to the hatching grounds, the tranquil place where they had touched the eggs only recently before no longer tranquil. It was buzzing with activity, with the eggs rocking, and the stands filled with people.

By the time Dusen had taken his place on the sands, bowing to the queen and her rider, the first egg had already hatched. It was a green, a ugly little creature, but it was still a dragon, and the one who it chose to impress would be a lucky one.

Robes. Hesendek wasn't exactly sure what to make out of sandals and robes; neither were something the boy had ever worn before. Working outside was much more suited to pants and boots and he felt rather naked without his necktie, but now wasn't the time for complaints now, was it? The lad had only been at the Weyr for a few sevendays, and suddenly, Hesendek felt like he had forgotten everything he had learned while he was here. Where was Mo when he really needed her?

Determined to make it on his own, that was what he really wanted, anyways, Hesendek made his way to the sands with all the other candidates, remembering, at the very least, to drop a bow to the Queens. The vintner apprentice was a touch late; the first hatchling had already broken free. He could not see much from where he was, just a flash of green as he bounced on the balls of his heels. Well. He should have been here earlier, clearly.

Hesendek finally noticed how warm the Sands actually were and began to shuffle, wondering idly if he could push himself to the front. But did that actually matter? If the dragon was supposed to be his, wouldn't it come find him no matter where he was?

Slightly comforted by that though, the youth looked around again, sparing a glance for Gaimora. Well, he didn't see her. Hopefully she was just somewhere mingled in the crowed, instead of left behind. And hopefully, she remembered to leave Fang out, too.

Emori had been resting in the Candidate Barracks when the rush of noise and people began. She watched the first of the other candidates as they entered and began to pull on their white robes. Here it was: The moment she’d been dreading since she left her uncle’s Hold. She waited until nearly all of them had come and gone to put on her own robe and sandals.

She moved to the Sands much faster than she wanted to, swept along by the crowding weyrfolk and visiting holders who hurried to see the Hatching. Once there, she was shoved onto the sand to join the other candidates. She hurried to blend in with the group of girls, hiding while she tried to prepare for what would come.

She saw a green dragonet claw its way through a girl and then stop in front of another. She didn’t see any magic in the bond that was being born right in front of her. She was too busy watching the bloody form being carried off the Sands.

In the heat of the day, a bed in the cold Lower Caverns of stone and dark was the perfect place to be, especially when one had an afternoon break from the Hell that was Weyr Kitchen. …However… Sleeping probably hadn’t been the best idea one an afternoon such as this, but how was Anne to know that?

When the Gold Queen’s voice sounded through her dozing head, the poor girl sat up and started with such a fright that the small, green flitter that had been resting on her chest flew like a mound of cheese across the bed. Anne ignored the creature’s trills of annoyance and surprise, and she looked about her small little compartment with wide eyes as her chest heaved up and down. She blinked, wiped sweat from her brow and neck, sighed… and then realized what the hell she had just heard.

“OH SHARDS!”

‘Oh s**t’ was right. Anne flew off her bed and whipped into her scratchy white robe and sandals so fast that Gnattie the green flit didn’t even have time to chirp and crawl out from Anne’s abandoned clothes that had been flung onto the bed.

In a total frenzy if there ever was one, Annelie ran to the Sands, her feet sliding as she rounded every corner. She could feel sweat sliding down the sides of her face and down her chest. Her face was hot and she knew it was red at her cheeks. Oh… and now there was that feeling in her stomach and she hadn’t even gotten inside the Grounds yet! She mind spun. She was the one who hadn’t been to an Impression in four years, and here she was going on practically a mere WHIM and she felt like she was going to hurl…. Life made no sense.

As she finally made her way with the crowd of other white-clad candidates, she looked around with wide eyes. She followed a few others and made her bow to the Queen and her Rider; a graceful bow, with one leg out in front of the other with her foot slightly pointed, one arm against her back while the other spread a corner of her robe. When done, she gave a final nod – a nervous nod – and backtracked until she was back in the mix of things.

Tossed into the sea of sweating bodies, Anne felt even more sick. The humming of the dragons sent shiver and shiver up and down her spine, and it didn’t help with her churning stomach. Her heart raced like a herdbeast and she swore it was about to jump clean out of her throat. She turned her dishelved head this way and that for a familiar face, and when she saw Elae, she silently pushed her way through and stood silently next to the daydreaming girl.

She had no time to catch her breath though, before she noted the emerging Green dragonet. She gave a gasp… and took a step back into someone else, then jumped forward once more. A hand went to her mouth and she just stared.

Perhaps stirred by the momentum of an angry sister, the next egg cracked open. It was the large, solid hippo egg, which contained a color mystery. It seemed so much bigger than it actually was, and the marks had been rampant on that shell. Plus, it was tinged rather pink, wasn't it?

Either way, it cracked open more slowly than its sister, but still rather quickly. What color was it? It was hard to tell, but the dark gook on the skin seemed to indicate it was bronze or brown...

In the heat of the grounds, even the muck of the eggs dried quickly, revealing a light colored brown, who blinked his faceted eyes and hissed once or twice. He didn't have the bad nature of his sister, but he was clearly not the best tempered dragon either. Was this going to be a theme in the clutch? Hopefully not. Either way, the little brown wavered there, trying to debate where to go. He looked impatient, visibly twitching, but he was so confused, and he couldn't tell which was his... Like Haanyath, he had no trouble deciding between genders. He ignored the females completely, pressing forwards towards the boys, nudging them apart. He was far more gentle than Haanyath, not hurting anyone, but his patience was clearly wearing thin. Which one was his?

Faranie stepped gracefully out of the way of the lumbering green, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was passed, despite the bloodshed. Such a gawky thing, and ugly...She applauded for the girl it went to, then turned straight back to the eggs. Pity... She glanced over her shoulder at her elder brother on the sands. I think those two would have matched up well. Even in private her thoughts were ugly. A shame, but she kept up her smiles, eager to see what would hatch next. The larger eggs drew her attention like magnets, and she tried to discern which was which.

Laflan had a poor view of the green once it entered the crowd of girls, but he cringed at the blood. He was glad then that he'd bothered to ask what to do if someone was hurt, and he held himself still. Sure enough the healers raced out moments later and bore the girl away. At first he mistook the applause of the crowd and his fellows to be meant for the healers doing their job so well, but soon enough he could see that it was for a girl, who'd impressed the green. He was almost surprised that nothing physical had happened. Impression honestly was an entirely internal affair after all.

Merase eagerly chattered away at her father, who nodded curtly. He could tell the green was a bit testy, but it was his daughter's first chance to watch, and knowing she might find herself on the sands one day he wanted to keep her happy. For now that included distracting her by talking about the golden queen presiding over the eggs when one candidate was injured.

Tyven found he liked the green, the better look he got at it. It reminded him of Tyvensk, obviously. Not that he'd ever say such a thing. Dragons were testy about being compared to whers. As for his own bronze beast, he was fast asleep below, in the cavern allotted to him. He had little interest in the hatchings of his cousin-species above, but Tyven decided to stick it out. It had been a while since he'd watched a full hatching.

Gar had a clear view from the back. A view of the blood, that was. For his many attempts he was only grateful that he had never been hurt. Though in retrospect even that much attention from a dragon would have been welcomed. As it was they seemed to simply part around him like water on a stone. Feeling something burn a bit brighter inside him, he struggled and made his way a bit closer through the crowd, brow furrowing. He'd seen the look his sister gave him, and for once was determined to hold his head high through the event. If he failed, he would fail with dignity.