Welcome to Gaia! ::

Jaidev felt a smile finally cracking the tense frown he'd been wearing most of the hatching. That bronze...he was certainly a character, the boy decided as he watched the dragonet lounge by the girls. He had been puzzled at first when the bronze started toddling towards the girl's side (he was sure it was bronze and not a wayward brown!) but as a boy began to edge over slowly, things started to make sense. It seemed the little hatchling just liked the attention of the fairer gender! Ah, such personality the little dragon had (granted the queen and that brown had personality in excess as well but Jai found he much liked this personality a bit better. Less bodily harm and all)!

Next, the clumsy blue seemed to Impress. And the best part- both happened without incident- maybe the storm was breaking. Maybe anyone who had any future thoughts of sneaking and touching eggs prematurely would be severely deterred by this incident. It was too much of a coincidence to have this many maulings on a Hatching without a Touching- seems visiting the eggs before they cracked did matter.

After the Impressions, a lull fell over the sands. It was almost nice just to have a break in the chaos and excitement, though as the stillness carried, the boy felt tension rising again. He hoped all this silence was simply because the young ones were taking their time with Hatching out. It would be so unfortunate if some of the eggs failed to hatch because of the sheer stupidity of one wherry-brained Candidate...

Tideal watched Rumir fidget out of the corner of his eye without taking his gaze away from the collective of differently hued shells. Mixed emotions ran through his head, and he waited impatiently for another egg to hatch and distract the badly worded candidate from talking to him. Wasn't the nicest idea, but he wasn't in the best of moods either.

"Tideal," He said to the older boy, again not turning away from the dragons. The tried to lighten up his mood a bit. No way he'd impress standing around seething and acting like a snob. "Its a pleasure, I suppose." Tideal added with less ire. As he looked around the air seemed to make a choking noise. As was the flow of the hatching, when the eggs paused so then did the candidates. The silence seemed to seep from heart to heart, amplifying the anxiety and anticipation of those standing on the grounds or watching from the stands. Quiet though it was, a few other conversations were still carried out. A small murmur among silence so unique the splitting of a shell would be the only thing capable of breaking it.

Now that Merik.... whoops.... M'rik was off feeding his dragon, he looked around for the one other boy he knew. Wait? Where was Zafir? After several moments of looking he found him. Huh. That was odd. How had he gotten so far away from the other boy? He shrugged, and made his way back over to him. He nudged him in the shoulder. "Hey. Pretty impressive for our friend, eh? But there's still..... eight eggs it looks like. Still hope for us to impress one of our own."

‘Late! Late! …
And sweaty, ick…
Rom is not going to be pleased.
Late! Wonder how many I missed…’
Strong legs put on more speed as he raced though the weyr to the stands, bellowing out an apology as he surged between a pair of bystanders. Surged not pushed, surging involved little quick steps and some intuition of how the person was going to move. Such he could cut though a crowd and just barely brush someone in passing. Not really rude but still better not step on anyone’s metaphorical feet.

‘Where, wherewherewhere…ahh ha! Score!...
maybe, if she doesn’t kill me first.’ He ran a hand though his now rather short cropped hair. Well, short for him at least, and grinned sheepishly at his glaring cousin. “…What I miss?”

Anyone not familiar with his cousin probably would think her as anti-social. Rom never talked much and when she did it was often blunt and rather harsh. Her face was smooth as always, but her eyes where giving him the low grade flare glare number eighteen. Otherwise know as ‘Where the hell have you been!’ She shook her head, looking back at the stands as he took his seat.

“Three very angry hatchlings, a brown, gold, and blue in order mauled some of the candidates.” Ramaha said calmly pulling a water skin and strip of stain cloth from her bag passing them over. “A protective little blue and a green, then a clumsy little blue and a flirting bronze who decided he would rather nest among the woman then go to his candidate.”

‘Rish shook his head, toweling himself dried before taking a deep drink of the skin. Knowing his cuz there was most likely some sort of food inside that bag. He grinned, looking at Rom. “Nothing at all wrong with that. The ladies are all lovely.” His eyes flickered to the bag and he beamed wider as he was presented with what looked to be a bread pocket filled with meat and edible greens. ‘Yum…ooh no.’

He paused recognizing the young man on the sands with the wounded arm. ‘Jessan was mauled. Looks shallow…’ He took a bite, looking over the remaining eggs. ‘At least I didn’t miss them all.’

Raedue looked over the remaining eggs as well. "A brown is a definite possibility. Though I think maybe a green as well, seeing as how we have only had one of that color hatch as well." He was tempted to lay back in the sand, depsite the risk of getting it in uncomfortable places, but decided against it. It *had* been a long day, after all.

"Well, I hope you're right about me impressing. And I know you're right about what'll happen if we don't impress. Because there will me more mating flights, and there will certainly be more dragons. And there are always parties to be had." He thought about the color recommendation. "Orange, huh? I suppose so. Never done much else but regular running leathers and clothes. We usually do those in browns and blacks, dark colors. Though I can certainly see about making us a pair of sandals that we can use on the hatching grounds nex clutch. Ones that won't make us all but burn our feet off."

Shifting from foot to foot, the sands unbearably hot and scalding, Darcir found his anxiety growing with every passing moment. After M'rik had left with his bumbling blue, there was a great lull. . . . He tried to remember how many eggs might be left, but it was difficult to see amongst the shards and sea of white-robes.

Heaving a few breaths, the lad hid his shaking hands by reaching up to toy with some of his long hair. His brow was laced with sweat and he glanced from the various faces of candidates. He was pointedly ignoring the stands, not wanting to locate his family or know that they watched and waited. Faranth only knew what they were thinking. . . one bronze had already paired off with his now ex-roomate, Balin. . or B'lin or B'al or whatever he might shorten his name to. Funny how he'd never make bronze material, nor would he ever desire to. His closeted secret alone would make him brown rider material at best, but even then, browns were a handful and few and far between. Blue or green were it. . . and there was probability (if he Impressed at all) it would be a green.

Not that he minded. Not at all! He begrudged no dragons colour and the one green he had met a few days previous had been nothing but charming. His own Liu was also a sweet heart. . . But exactly what might his parents feel if such were the case?

No, no no. . . no time to think about that. Biting his lower lip, the man tried to clear his thoughts while he had a moment. Before the chaos and fear resume. Deep down, Darcir did want to Impress. He had been at Ista long enough to see that it wasn't just idle days and laziness; there was much work to be done and he could thrive in such an environment. To have freedom on one of the great mounts of Pern, to have a bondmate unlike anything. . .

Impression still confused him, still made him wonder at the effect. All a dragon was was a voice in your head, wasn't it? Or . . . something like that. People tried to discuss Impression during lessons, but each story was different, each interpretation solely personal. . .

What would it be like to find a missing piece?

Love. Happiness. Good thoughts. Positive thoughts. Be open to the dragons, be welcoming, be . . . himself. Open and welcoming weren't his strong points, but he wasn't rude. He could be polite, hell, he could even lay on charm when push came to shove but how might one charm and egg?

Oh bother. . . .

Thinking loudly, he did his best to think. Maybe that egg over there . . . The one he could almost see amongst the other vying candidates. Won't you come out. . .? See the world? See everything you may miss locked inside such a shell. . . ?

Darcir felt a bit foolish thinking so clearly but . . . .no one had to know. Not a one. These were his thoughts and his alone and not one of his peers or the scrutinizing gaze of riders and hold folk around them could penetrate such a thing. These thoughts were for the eggs and eggs alone. . . and if he focused on being as hospital as he could, perhaps (who knew) he might draw one to his side.

It's a very big world. There are many lazy folk but . . . there are also some good ones besides. There's work to be done, and we can't do it without each and every one of you. . . As an after thought, he did think, There's also food. Fresh meat to help you grow, and candidates to choose from, candidates all your very own. Perhaps we need you more than you need us. . . but we're here, waiting. Come out, come out.

Thankfully, any flush at thinking so loud was hidden by the heat of the sands. Why did they have to be barefoot? Not only was there scalding sand terrorizing the soles of his feet, but egg shards and littered shell pieces were hazardous to step in if one weren't careful.