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Okassis wasn't normally the bumbling, confused sort - except in the mornings. He had never been a morning person, not from the day he'd been born and kept the whole caravan up with his screaming at the sunlight, to the day he'd Turned eleven and slept through the whole day (though that was as much due to the mischief he'd been wreaking with his friends the day before as his routine dislike of waking up), to now, when he was getting screamed out of bed at an insanely early hour. It wasn't laziness that slowed him down, but a sheer grogginess that refused to be dispelled by plain willpower.

Even so, Okassis was determined to force his way through the sleepy haze. Touching... he'd been given the run-down before, but any little snatches of conversation he picked up from the other Candidates were a relief. The Touching was... touching the eggs. Greeting the Queen. He was supposed to bow, he thought; he sure hoped that he wasn't wrong, because this soon after rolling out of bed, his brain was just running on fumes....

It was his first time seeing the Hatching Grounds, but it wasn't the enormity of the cavern itself that impressed him, or even the eggs yet. The first thing he saw was the Queen, and it was all he could do to keep his mouth shut. In his experience, expecting women didn't generally appreciate being told how huge they were - but she was! And he'd been bragging the other day about getting into a scrape with a Watchwher, but the Gold was just... beautiful.

Bow, something told him - or maybe it was someone, Okassis's head was a little funny just now. Becoming incredibly aware of how strange he must look to the Queen's eyes - an awkward ruffled-haired youth with a bruise on his cheek, cut on his arm (which was sure to scar as it healed - just a small token of the price he'd paid to get to the Weyr, he reasoned), and still a faint, almost undetectable limp in one foot - he bent at the waist, an unpracticed gesture that was probably made all the sloppier for how fardling tired he was. Once he felt reassured that the Queen had no interest in him (particularly, no unfavorable interest in him), he straightened out and proceeded listlessly forward after the other Candidates, mind still wrapped around the enormous visage of the eggs' mother.

It still didn't make sense to him, Okassis thought, what folk like people had to offer to things like dragons. There was something, obviously, but he had a lot of old ways that colored his thoughts as he tried to understand what the dragons wanted from having riders; no, he told himself crossly, hearing his father's voice scoffing in his head, emergency rations isn't one of them. There was something there in that connection, something amazing. It was like the whole universe could be understood, if only he could find it--

Okassis stopped his musing, drawing up to the Javanese Damsel and Mandarin Dragonet eggs. He didn't approach them immediately, but marveled at their size - it should have only made sense that they'd be so large, of course, but it was one thing to imagine, another to see!

The other Candidates were already inspecting the eggs, laying their hands against them. Some hung back, seeming jaded or uncertain. Okassis wondered which group he should be more like, which had the better chance of Impressing - then realized, it didn't really matter to him. Okassis was Okassis, which had nothing to do with anyone else. He wasn't here to play whatever games of the universe dictated success or failure - Okassis was here to Impress, and for no other reason.

Deciding to let fate do the work, he let himself do what was only natural; laying one hand on the Javanese egg, the other on the Mandarin (they were touching, so this was easy), he tried to get a sense of what they were, what they meant to him.

If he'd been expecting some instant jump of recognition, sense of perfection or belonging... Okassis didn't find it. Certainly, neither egg trembled at his touch, or called to him. But his fingers shook with excitement already, and he'd stopped breathing a few seconds. Awe swept over him; it wasn't possible to Impress an egg, but they certainly impressed something on him just the same.

It was a long time before he'd pull his hands away. When he did, it was with a vaguely fuzzy smile. I was right, he decided, feeling something click into place. This is where I belong. Whatever dreams he had about his family, the wagons on the road, traveling from Hold to Hold... they were behind him now. Okassis's blood ran for the Weyrs, and however he could find to be here, he was at home. The old man wouldn't like it, but Okassis didn't expect to have to explain it, anyway.

Exhaling, long and slow, he backed away and nodded his head to the two eggs. There were other eggs here, but they held no meaning to him beyond what he'd already experienced. Greedily, he wanted to approach them all - but he knew he'd feel nothing like he already had, the awe and reality of those first eggs. Their colors would brand his mind forever, something deeper and more visible than Thread-scarring.

Kypak moved first to the blue and orange egg at the center, taking advantage of a spare moment when it was not occupied by another candidate. He couldn't help speculating over what color it would turn out to be (he suspected green, indulging privately in the so popular guess-my-color game) and suspected that many other Candidates would be doing the same. An egg like that could certainly hold surprises... One hand lightly caressed the shell, and he couldn't help but smile at the familiar warmth. Such brilliant color and patterns... You won't lack admirers, he thought to the egg. But a vibrant shell didn't necessarily mean an attention-seeking dragonet.

Sounds of more Candidates moving around him caused Ky to look up, and notice just how many people had arrived to touch the eggs. Well, no matter what the dragonet was looking for, there would at least be no shortage of choice. In such a crowd, I'm sure you'll find Yours quickly. Good luck, then he moved on. There was no indication that thinking at a dragonet or an egg, or projecting positive emotions or whatever the Candidates swore buy, would actually improve one's chances at a Hatching. Dragons knew who they were meant to Impress, regardless of human efforts. But just in case the egg could hear him, Ky figured, there was no harm in a few polite words of encouragement.

Moving to the tan egg splashed with its dizzying pattern of black, brown, and blue, Kypak took a moment to consider it, smiling a little at its oddness. It looked... well, less than eye-catching, especially next to brethren that tended towards regal vibrance or elegant understated hues. But as he'd been told so many times, the only thing you could know for sure by looking at a shell was if an egg was a Queen. Wouldn't it be magnificent, he thought, if this medium-sized egg turned out to be the best of the lot? Giving the egg a light stroke, he greeted it with a warm thought in its direction. You're quite something, aren't you? You'll show everyone soon enough, I'm sure. If they'd called for a Touching, the Hatching couldn't be too far off now.

Firyal was about to make her way to the eggs, her eye snagged by one egg than another, when she turned to look behind her. She had no reason, really, to look, but it wasn't as though it would hurt her chances of Impressing. Her eyes fell on a girl whose skin was darker than anyone she'd ever seen in Nerat or at the Weyr and whose hair was done in clever, intricate braids that Firyal envied while simultaneously recognizing that if she tried to do that with her hair it would result in a horrible tangle. She'd only caught a glimpse of the girl before, and she didn't know her name, but she was clearly very new to the Weyr, and a bit overawed by the dragons. Firyal didn't blame her for that. They were impressive. It took her another moment to realise that the girl was barefoot.

Firyal hadn't attended the last Hatching or its Touching, but there was usually one in every bunch of Candidates who forgot shoes at the Touching. She didn't know why they didn't keep a spare pair of sandals near the entrance in case of such an event. If she'd asked, she probably would have gotten an answer like, It encourages Candidates to learn to be aware of their surroundings and be responsible for their belongings. Her personal theory was that the Weyr was aware as a collective how odd that would look to visitors. Dignity had to be maintained, particularly turing an Interval.

She backtracked to the awestruck girl wearing as friendly an expression as she could manage, though it probably came off as somewhat forced looking. She really wasn't good at being friendly on command. Despite the rules which said Candidates were supposed to be silent, she asked in an undertone, "Do you really want to stand there scorching your feet and staring? Bow to the queen if you haven't yet, and come on. The eggs don't bite, after all."

From there he moved to the largest egg, jade green with pink primarily. Odd color combination, but striking. And, of course, anyone with Bronze hopes would be gravitating towards this one, he thought with an inward chuckle. Kypak was aware that his own chances of being a Bronzerider were approximately zero, but the egg could certainly hold a brown or a blue. Worth a touch, anyway, it hardly did him any harm. Good morning, he thought politely, a hand tracing one of the pink stripes absently. If I were in your place, I'm sure I'd be tired already of all these boys introducing themselves... I'm sure you have more patience than I, though. It really was remarkable, how a new-hatched creature only minutes old could pick Theirs out of a crowd and find their way like a compass to the poles.

Letting someone else take the large egg, he paused by the grey egg, popular despite its camouflage. But of course... People were attracted to aloofness, to a mystery. It was the thrill of the pursuit, perhaps, or the thought of having discovered something exclusive, that not everyone could have. But the egg would pick someone who liked it for what it was, not just because it was half-hidden. He waited for the previous Candidate to move away, then let his fingers trail over a charcoal-hued oval. I wonder why you feel the need to hide... This egg, he was sure, would make someone very happy. A blue, he suspected, or maybe a smaller brown.

Aderyn was snapped from her panic by a soft voice below her ear, turning slowly, still trying not to draw attention, she focused on the shorter girl who had spoken. Plump and short, the girl had a wide, open face and although very fair skinned, seemed unperturbed by the heat of the Hatching Grounds. A furrow between her eyes betrayed the forced joviality of her smile, but Aderyn appreciated the small act of kindness regardless. All the Candidates here seemed to have an underlying competitiveness about them which Aderyn found distasteful, especially when it came to the Impressing of eggs. Several, as they Touched the delicate shells, conveyed an overconfidence bordering on arrogance which seemed to her disrespectful. The girl in front of Aderyn, however, appeared unimpressed with her surroundings, and in possession of a no-nonsense persuasion. Aderyn found herself instantly fascinated.
Following the shorter girl's lead, Aderyn approached the eggs when her time came, surveying them over the heads of the shorter Candidates. There were a baker's dozen or more eggs nestled together on the sand, and an equal number of young men and women crowded around pressing their hands against the surfaces. When it was her turn, Aderyn was at first tentative, scared she might injure the delicate eggs, but by the third or fourth egg she was stroking the beveled shells with renewed confidence. They were not soft like a snake's egg, as she'd expected but covered in tiny bumps like the sandpapery feel of a bird's egg. Durable and strong, they were also deceptively warm to the touch. An effect created more by the sand, Aderyn suspected, than the cold blooded dragons still forming inside. Strong emotions welled up inside of her, as she moved and touched and petted, of awe and pride and the adoration one felt when first holding a child in ones arms. It was a struggle to keep them in check, but she managed with a measure of grace. Finally Aderyn's turn was up, and she stepped aside to allow the other Candidates room to attempt to connect with the eggs themselves.
With a soft, genuine smile, she turned to the small girl at her side, and whispered a subdued "Thank you."

Jaidev wasn't quite done with the Touching yet. After moving from the blue egg and the grey spotted egg, his attention tuned to the Picasso Triggerfish egg. It was almost kind of...ugly, though he supposed it wasn't too bad- even if he wasn't quite sure what to make of the pattern. It was interesting, to say the least.

As he rested his palms against the newest egg of his attentions, he could feel his heart rate coming back to normal. It would be okay, though he didn't doubt his pulse would spike again once the eggs started hatching. The first incident had been fine until the eggs hatched and the dragonets started bumbling about. Then... He absentmindedly removed a hand from the egg to rub gingerly at his thigh where the scar lay. He swallowed deeply. It'll be fine. Stop worrying or you'll drive off any potential dragonets like last time... He took a steadying breath and gave the egg a light pat before moving on.

His hands found in time the other two eggs and once he was satisfied with the touching, he moved back and out of the way of other Candidates. Though he had felt them all, he still found his eyes drifting back to the first two he had approached. Despite the beauty and intrigue of the other eggs, those nearly plain eggs still had the edge on holding his interest. Maybe that would change when the dragons hatched.

He took another deep breath as he took pains to keep himself out from underfoot, mopping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He was at least better at looking nonchalant and less of a nervous wreck this third time around- seems he had time to perfect his Hatching procedure. On the outside, he looked cool and calm, but under the venere, anxieties about a million things were churning. The only outward sign of his turmoil was the manner in which he picked and chewed and picked at his nails and cuticles. He didn't even realize he was doing so, though. He simply kept his eyes fixed on the eggs on the sands, memories of their feel, their warmth, their energy still rippling across his palms (though maybe he was just imaging the last one). What did each egg hide? Was there a Blue in that deep blue egg? Or was it something less obvious? His eyes turned to the odd-colored egg he'd touched third- what would come of that? The outside often said very little about the being inside, so he was eager to see what would pp out, whether it chose him or not. So many thoughts, so many feelings! And to think...things had only begun.

Firyal waited behind the girl she'd found for a turn to touch the eggs. With so many candidates, the only sensible way to do it was to line up and proceed in an orderly manner. So, naturally, everyone was wandering around at their own pace with no particular order, going from one egg to another and getting in each other's way. For all that they Weyrs had been having Hatchings for over a millenium and Touchings for the last two hundred turns or so, they'd never managed to impose much order over the proceedings. Not that Firyal was all that concerned with order, but she hated chaos and crowds.

When she was able to reach through the crush to brush an eggshell with her fingertips, Firyal reflected briefly on the bond between rider and dragon. She would probably never know it, but she had seen the joy in others' eyes when that connection was made, and a part of her desperately wanted that. She had no illusions that someone her size would ever catch the eye of a young man. Not in a Weyr populated by the young and fit, paragons of perfect physiques. But a dragon wouldn't care so much that she could never seem to lose that stone or so of weight that kept her from being the average size for her height.

She pulled back quickly from the egg, hopefully before its occupant caught any of her self-pitying thoughts. How pathetic was she, anyway? This was an exciting occasion, where people might touch the very egg from which their other half would burst forth, taking them from the mundane world to the supposedly more glamorous life of a dragonrider. Living in the Weyr for six years, she had quickly come to realize that weyrlife wasn't particularly glamorous for anyone, even those with dragons. And her thoughts were excessively depressing this morning. She blamed it on the lack of klah.

"You're welcome," she replied, not even looking to see if the Candidatemaster was glaring at them. The worst thing he could do was tell them their time was up. And maybe remind Firyal that she had never been officially Searched, and was getting old, and shouldn't push her luck. She wasn't terribly concerned.