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Even in more relaxed circumstances, Adetsu tended to have a grip like an angry wher's bite. In the dark, anxious and irritated, he clung to that glow basket as the only weapon available. Unsurprisingly, the sharp gust of wind failed to take it from him. It was his light, shard-it. It was staying with him.

He jerked at the sound of his name, recognizing the voice as coming from a fellow white candidate, and by that quality alone, finding it less than welcome. The fact that Jerishude, in particular, had never seemed particularly appealing to be around didn't help matters. He was not in the mood for games.

Then again, he wasn't the sort, usually, to start a fight without reason. Even if reason was occasionally, 'they were being obnoxious'.

Kaeyne, on the other hand, already glaring, was another matter altogether. And Adetsu was not going to see him kicked off the sands for losing his temper before an egg had even cracked. He stepped quickly to stand between Kaeyne and the approaching Jerishude, saying no more than a curt, "You will not crowd us."

Roxyn, another he recognized for the same reason, their shared white candidacy, was allotted even less attention as he approached. "No."

He and Kaeyne were now surrounded. Well. That left people to throw in the path of any incoming tunnelsnakes, should it come to that. The thought was surprisingly comforting, and Adetsu's tension eased marginally.

Balancing the glowbasket on his shoulder, R'xen squinted out into the Sands. Somewhere out there in amongst the sea of faintly glowing lights was Roxyn, dressed in standard issue robes. If he looked hard enough he could have sworn he saw his boy in there. But of course it was probably just his imagination. With one eye and the darkness, not to mention the fact that Roxyn was as plain as dirt when it came to Pernese appearance standards, the likelihood of being able to see his son was virtually zero. Still, R'xen liked to hope. He'd managed to bully his way into the front row of the Stands – he needed to be there if J'aro needed him! – and was intent to keep his seat there for the entirety of the Hatching. Somewhere behind him, probably sitting with the other elderly ladies, was his mother. It was her wish that Roxyn attend the Hatching; naturally, the woman wanted a nice life for her grandson. Of course, R'xen knew that his son was destined for more than a normal colour. (In fact, he told him that every day). If the clutch today held nothing for him there would be no tears or sympathetic pats on the back. Both Roxyn and his father knew the game and how to play it.

A sudden gust of wind had the Whitesecond tightening his hold on his basket, holding it completely stationary against his shoulder. Others, however, were not nearly as lucky. Baskets and glows alike were blowing in the furious wind, the area suddenly that much darker than before. R'xen scowled – or at least, he tried to scowl – and tightened his grip further. In the event they needed glows he wanted to make sure that he had then.

PC Candidates:

Iafri (Meepfur) - Kept
Mairin (ladyumbra) - Lost
Sammis (Xaotl) - Kept
Adetsu (lithle) - Kept
Kaeyne (The Nozomi) - Kept
Kalania (Ashtiel Pantheres) - Kept (Rolled by Staff)
Connor (JetAlmeara) - Lost
Valdi (Zactura) - Lost (Rolled by Staff)
Narenne (Princess_Feylin) - Kept
Vessali (Samuel_Carlin) - Lost
Tanasha (TawnyAngel) - Lost (Rolled by Staff)
Kellon (Wotcher) - Lost
Jerishude (Rown) - Lost
Roxyn (soutou) - Lost

PC Observers:

Bekar (Christopher Johnson) - Lost
F'sey (soutou) - Kept
R'xen (Chibi Sheepcat) - Kept
V'tor (Infinities) - Kept
Sesabal (soutou) - Kept (Rolled by Staff)
Brambel (Hopefolly) - Kept (Rolled by Staff)
Arisa (Hopefolly) - Lost (Rolled by Staff)
Amai (Hopefolly) - Kept (Rolled by Staff)
B'lin (Hopefolly) - Lost (Rolled by Staff)

NPC Candidates:

13 of (roughly) 40 candidates kept their baskets. (Rolled by Staff)

NPC Observers:

96 of (roughly) 100 observers kept their baskets. (Rolled by Staff)



Cripes. Who taught these candidates how to hold onto things?

Well, potential dragonriders, your hatching grounds are now pretty dark!

The stands, however, are full of competent people and so they have plenty of light.

Kala glowered at the wind, somehow, and turned to her friend with a scowl. "I heard hatchings on the mainlands are much...nicer," she remarked, kicking at the sand. It wasn't even completely smooth, but at least it was warm, and at least Iafri had managed to keep her glowbasket as well.

Glancing at all of the newcomers, she started fidgeting, eager and excited for what was soon to happen. "I can't believe it, 'Fri. I'm so excited!"

Luck wasn't contagious, right? Because if it was, and judging by the darkness surrounding him and the rest of the group on the sands, this was going to be a barrel of ...something, when it came to Hatchings. Not an ordinarily skittish sort, Vessali couldn't deny or ignore the tightening in his gut as the darkness seemed to creep in closer.

Breathe, he reminded himself. Just breathe. There was still plenty of air. He could still get away if he needed to go. He could walk off the sands if he thought it was a good idea, though his mother'd be disappointed for sure. No one else was crying out or saying a thing about the walls pulling in close, so it wasn't happening.

There was murmuring and whispering going on around him. Vessali made fists and curled then uncurled his toes. Just stay put. Focus on the glows in the stands. Motion closer to him made him look down and he could just make out Sammis' familiar features. A crooked smile crept on to the taller boy's lips. "Everything all right, Sammis?" At least he'd managed to hang on to his basket. That helped. "Guess I've got slippery fingers tonight."

There wasn't much to do now but wait as far as Mairin was concerned. There wasn't a lot of light out where the candidates were but a few of the other girls had held onto their glow baskets as that was all she needed. She stood close to them without trying to be overbearing or crowd them. Mairin just wanted enough illumination to be able to see her feet really. As long as she had a good idea of how and where she stood the braided girl felt competent she could hold her own against whatever this night threw at her.

She vaguely heard someone say something about spreading the lights out and pondered the idea. On one hand, Mairin mused, it would provide more light in general. On the other though it actually made them less safe if something other than a hatchling attacked them. Strength and safety in numbers was a saying for a reason and they were theoretically less of an optimum target when there was enough of them huddled together to stomp a tunnel snake flat in seconds.

If J'aro ever told this story, he'd need to remember to be detailed; just saying he found the darkness of the hatching grounds on that chilly night surprising would lead his listeners to think him a fool. He was never without light -- a habit demonstrated in the encounter which led F'sey to try and punch another variety of his "lights" out. He'd been the one to make sure glows were ready in case of a late hatching. One for each candidate without exception. So... where were they?

A howling wind answered him. The candidates robes blew to the side. Baskets nearly fell from the hands of those that had managed to keep onto them. J'aro held tight onto his own and waited for nature to end her wrathful tantrum. Once "she" had, he joined his fellow masters and the Wingleaders up front. (On the way there, he intentionally passed by the female candidates instead of the males.)

To the left, F'sey. To the right, Sesabal. It was to the right he leaned over and whispered. "I need to talk to you," his quiet voice demanded.

"Hey, I almost lost mine." Sammis reassured, flashing the taller boy a supportive grin. "It's some wind, huh? That's why I'm over here. You're my wind barrier." He added, jokingly This wasn't true, but it sounded better than I didn't want you to panic.

That was of course when something brushed his leg, and he jerked with surprise, doing a shuffle step that probably looked fairly comical to anyone who hadn't encountered the thing in the dark.

"What was that??" He demanded, slightly more loudly than he'd actually intended to ... and in a far less dignified fashion than he'd have preferred, retrospectively, though for the moment his chain of thought was more of a rapid repeating mantra of 'Please-don't-be-a-tunnelsnake!', with thoughts of the dead guard circling in his head for dreadful emphasis.