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He had meant to arrive early. Shards! He thought after giving a respectful bow to the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, pausing inside the entrance. There were so many people here! Of course, Xalth replied, It is a celebration. Where else would they be? He had a point, and one that made his blue eyes whirl with silent draconic laughter.

With a lack of finery (or any sense of where to begin), the Bluerider showed up in his riding gear. Leather boots, leather pants, leather jacket with a light cream shirt from Trine. R'vik was pleased that he had the forethought to purchase it prior to the... incident. If he had waited, it would have been unlikely to have it at all. His wingrider knot was plainly visible on his shoulder, as was his messenger belt -- though the pouch for messages was on the inside of his jacket, tucked away from view.

His appearance was spoiled by his hair. It wasn't because it was half-damp from the swim in the lake with His earlier. Rather, it was the fact that his light brown roots were visible against the auburn of his hair. At the thought of it, Xalth chuckled, You should have spent less time polishing your boots in order to ask the Weavers for a small batch of Box to touch-up your hair color, Mine.

And do what, risk getting some fingeroot-orange instead? No thank you, Xalth. Though if you are interested, I could ask for some black dye to turn you into an Atype...? He smiled, chuckling quietly at his dragon's mental snort of indignation, followed by the veiled threat of dumping His into Bendan's cold lake the next time they dropped the healers off.

The bluerider made his way further through the crowds, his smile fading to the corners of his lips. It appeared that even the festive occasion of the Hatching wasn't enough to dispell the veiled hostility toward the Benden riders. He glanced to where S'raid and K'la were speaking with a few of the new dragonriders, debating on joining them or not.

Thirst won out, however, and the bluerider made his way over to where the food was placed on the tables. Drinks, drinks... Where did they place the drinks? He looked around, lost before spotting B'tar. "Hey," he began, walking up to the older Greenrider, "Have you seen any drinks around here? The set-up for Feasts here is a bit different than how it's done back home..."

Ca'mil had decided it was in good sport for her to make an appearance at the hatching feast - though in reality she ought to have been oiling her leathers or mending a few bits of clothing that had been worn through."Everyone needs a break sometimes" Cheryth butted in - as she was oh so prone to doing"It will be good for you to have some social time" She further expanded and Ca'mil snorted slightly. It was completely pointless to argue with her crimson however and resigning herself to a few hours of social time she made her way over towards the drinks.

Interesting conversation she had always observed tended to take place near the drinks or the food and if she was going to be stuck here she might as well try to pass the time in good fashion, perhaps she would run across one of the new crimson hatchlings as well - Cheryth had been more then pleased to see them arrive and while one impressing to a boy had been a bit odd Ca'mil wasn't to hung up on such things.

S'kor couldn't believe it. Even after he'd gotten his beast settled into bed and spend several very looooong moment just stroking his eyeridges. He still couldn't believe the bronze had picked him. When he had finally rolled into bed, he was exhausted.

The next morning came quickly. He tended Scarath when the dragon complained of hunger and itching. Just watching the bronze sleep was time consuming in itself. Before he realized it, it was time to get ready for the feast. S'kor hadn't had time to get proper rider clothes yet and so shrugged into some of his normal clothes. 'I think you look good Mine. It wouldn't do for flying, but since we wont for some time, you'll have time to get some.' Scarath watches his bondmate closely as he gets dressed.

S'kor chuckles and nods. "Indeed I will. I'll be sure to stop and speak to the Headwoman after the feast then." As ready as he'll ever be, S'kor walks side by side with his dragon towards the feast. A hand resting comfortably on the wing shoulder, almost as if it was right for it to be there. The two join the lines of paired rider and dragon leading towards the Weyrleaders. Wisely, he knew he was no longer a trader and so had removed the shoulder knots already.

He approaches Weyrwoman Abigail and nods politely. After the new knots are securely fastened S'kor gives a graceful bow to her and the Weyrleader. "Thank you for allowing me this privilege. We will not let you down." Rising from his bow he looks them both in the eyes, one at time, to show his sincerity. Scarath trills to back His' words.

They move past the Weyrleaders to let the next pair approach and head to the feast. S'kor looks around. He only knew a couple of those newly Impressed, and that was barely. Should he approach and try to get to know them? The decision was taken completely from his hands. 'Mine! I smell meat. Now would be an excellent time to sample the spices you have in your pockets.' Scarath croons happily and makes bee-line for the meat table. He heard His give a sigh and knew he'd follow.

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Optheli was breathless. She couldn't take her eyes off the green lump next to her that was all hers! It was so special when Dynith called her name. She replays the moment in her mind over and over. Her mind was in a whirlwind that Optheli thought she'd never get to sleep. But sleep finally did come.

Dressed up as pretty as she should could, her platform shoes, and her hair brushed back Optheli felt she was finally ready. She heads off to the feast with Dynith at her heals. 'Mine, you wont need those funny shoes anymore. They wont be good when you ride me.' Dynith follows behind Hers, trying to stay mostly out of sight. Which is not easy for a dragonet behind a small girl. 'Theli gasps and half twists to look at the green behind her. "What do you mean?" 'Mine doesn't need those when she has Her Dynith.' The green croons soothingly.

Optheli gives her dragon a soft smile. "Your right, Dynith. I'll get new later." With that she approaches the Weyrwoman to receive her new knots. Unlike her brother, she'd forgotten to take her old trader knots off. She blushes a little and starts talking. "Good evening Weyrwoman. I bet this will be a lovely feast. I can't tell you how glad I am to be here." She was plainly bubbling with joy. Finally it was finished and the two of them moved further into the feast.

Optheli looked around. There was so many people! Who should she talk to first? She knew Dynith would much rather sit in the background, but she wouldn't have it. Spotting the closest new rider she head for him/her. Dynith trails along after Hers. Maybe if she just stayed in back....

You are being anti-social, Mine.

I most certainly am not. I just do not wish to interrupt anyone's conversation.

So you're opting to be a background decoration instead?

Oh shush, you. S'ren had arrived at the party early, although he wasn't entirely sure why. He had wanted to greet and congratulate the new weyrlings, of course, but there were very few of them that he knew and most became engaged in conversation with their fellows immediately. He had been conversing with E'lai before, but the younger Greenrider had wandered off... somewhere.

Is that harper girl there? Tereth asked. Perhaps you could congratulate her first.

The Brownrider looked about at the inquiry. Hm... Nope, I don't see-- Ah, there she is. She just came in. And it seemed that her cheerful Green was running circles about Hers before deciding to run off on her own. Deciding to take Tereth's suggestion, S'ren approached the harper girl first. "Congratulations on the Impression," he said to her with a smile. "She is a beautiful Green. What is her name?"

S'raid did not quite swallow his tongue when he saw K'la, but he came very close. It was not often that the Bronzerider was graced with such a vision of loveliness-- even if he didn't especially tend to appreciate such sights. She startled him into taking a bow, ever the elegant gentleman. That was how he tried to portray him in company. ... Company that was not Moira, who had not earned any great show of manners from him. "K'la. You seem to have me at a bit of a disadvantage." He took her hand, and bowed over it, showing off those manners. He rather hoped that that would stick in Moira's craw. She was a Queenrider and he hadn't greeted her so courteously-- if courteously at all. "It was a surprise, nothing more."

Privately, he rather thought that D'vas would have been drooling. Surrounded as he was by three attractive women, if he were any other rider he would have been crowing. As it was, S'raid tended to view them simply as... well, people. People who wore pretty things, yes. But then, S'raid had some pretty things of his own. That is not how it felt to me, Galvanth protested, catching onto his rider's deception. S'raid stopped himself right before he frowned. "K'la, this is Ofelia, and that is Moira." He had been so tempted to call the shrew a shrew, but alas, manners.

Nodding to the retreating S'in, he kept his focus on what was important, which was at the moment giving Benden a good name. Truly, K'la was a beautiful woman, and Ofelia had astonishing red hair. Moira, on the other had, was tiny and weirdly... something. And he didn't care, because unlike D'vas, he didn't think with his nether regions. "How do you propose that I should have addressed the matter of the dress, then?" he inquired indulgently, willing to be more flexible when it came to someone he had some faint fondness for. Perhaps that was because the woman was more traditional, but so be it. Certain other women could simply learn from her example.

"Excuse me?" The Bronzerider's voice was indignant, and rather taken aback, and he turned to face Ofelia suddenly. "No. We're not a coupl-- ah. You were joking." Of course she was joking. No one would seriously contemplate that thought, would they? With a slightly perturbed expression that faded into the smooth confidence that he tended to wear like a mask, S'raid shook his head. "I will keep that in mind... " His lips quirked slightly upward in a droll smile, nothing that met the eyes. He very infrequently smiled genuinely. It took real effort on someone else's part to get that sort of response out of him, truly.

Saykiro paced in his room. He heard the music, harpers and everyone else celebrating the new riders. He was happy for them and wanted to watch them, but there were to many people down there. His little gold flit, crooned at him and her eyes swirled in agitation because she wanted to sneak some of that meat away from the dragonets.

"Enough Saykiro. Move your rear down there and mingle with the others." He finally told himself. He walked towards the celebration, slowly. Ishbel, not wanting to miss out on some food and share with the other flits, flew off his shoulder and into the crowd.

Akaya smiled gratefully at the familiar brownrider--she knew so few around the weyr! Still, the way Sleeth was going, that would soon no longer be an issue... "Thank you, rider S'ren," she said, with a little duck of the head in deference. "Her name is Sleeth."

Sleeth trotted a circle around a fellow dragonet and then looped back to Akaya and S'ren, wings outstretched slightly as she reared up to warble a greeting. He seems nice! You are friends?

We've met before, Akaya thought with a grin. She suspected 'friends' to Sleeth meant exactly that though. "S'ren's dragon Tereth likes music too," she said aloud, for both their benefits.

Can we sing together?! Does Tereth sing? Does S'ren sing? Can all of us sing? The barrage of questions was enough to make Akaya go even more glaze-eyed than usual, and perhaps was a contributing factor to her not noticing Sleeth had reared up again, this time on S'ren like a unruly canine, tail wagging and all. She was repeating her last question to S'ren. Can all of us sing together?

Akaya was hovering between mortified and amused as she moved forward to pry Sleeth off the poor man. "I'm really very sorry," she said apologetically.

What is there to be sorry for? Songs are lovely!

"Yes, they are, but there's a time and a place--oh!" Weyrwoman Abigail's announcement to find seats had Akaya glancing about for an appropriate one.