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Zarike had to chance to react as he was thrown backwards. He'd only caught a glimpse of the hatchling within and a feeling of satisfaction (his own?) before Venk was at his side and noise assaulted his ears. Zarike landed on his backside, sprawled in the hot sand. The whites of his eyes showed as fear and horror set in. His breath came in short terrified gasps as he stared past Venk at the tightly curled little body.

What had he done?

The eyes blinked.

Keralder had eyed the Commander with a snort and moving toward the Listener when bad things happened. Super awful off the charts dim glowed crack shelled off the hook shafting bad things that left them with a blinking brown who needed a partner and was hatched too soon. He has half minded to cuss out Zarike but couldn't think of anything worse than what was no doubt in store for him. His own hand finding egg she'll much more gently as he hoped not to be torn open if the new brown decided he didn't care for things as they stood. He might even between before the dragon healer came but that was no promise someone wouldn't bleed first. Might cut himself indeed. This dragon might get there first.

What a blast this egg was! Bakarn, laughing softly, pressed his palm a little more firmly against the shell as it rocked closer to him, and tried to focus his thoughts into a quick mental reassurance – yeah, I’m here, hello! There must’ve been some kind of stupid grin all over his face, but he didn’t even care. It seemed so – so excited to see him! You never got your hopes up before a hatching, never, that was courting disappointment, but…

…but it was so happy that he was here.

The crack startled him out of his reverie, and Bakarn startled away from Ginger Beer, just in time to see something he really, really hoped he would never have to see.

The poor little brown was still, too still, and Venk was shouting for a healer. Instinctively Bakarn moved towards Seytev, trying to find that flash of blond in the crowd, but of course his friend was already bolting off. No need to send two of them, so instead Bakarn moved towards Venk, hovering a few paces behind the goldrider and the (blinking, alive, still alive!) hatchling. “Seytev’s off to the infirmary, sir. He’ll get someone.”

It was important for Venk to know this. Oh, Faranth, let the little guy survive. Faranth, don't die.

It took a moment for all of Seytev to stop moving as he skidded to a halt in front of Bereck, reaching down to help the man up even as he was demanding answers of the Candidate. "I don't know, sir, one of the eggs -" he spoke quickly, turning in the direction of the Caverns again. "Cracked? I don't know the whole story, but Venk needs a healer - do you need to lean on me, Sir?"

The words came out quick but not scrambled; Seytev speaking clearly even as he offered the Masterhealer his arm.

s**t!

"Yes! Help me!" Bereck replied quickly, leaving his cane where it had fallen on the ground and relying on Seytev instead because this would be a lot faster. A cracked egg, that was- that could not be good news! His mind raced, trying to think of any cases he'd heard of like this before but came up a complete blank.

"How badly cracked?" he asked, grimacing as he tried to move faster than his body wanted to let him. He could see Hiraeth now, towering over the sands, and the crowd of candidates and - he squinted - was that Venk kneeling beside something?

"Um. I'm sorry, sir, I didn't see it clearly, but I think it's bad."

It wasn't a question Seytev had a ready answer for; he had heard the crack, seen a flash of red shell, and then bolted. As he offered support to Bereck, though, he found they moved more quickly than he had expected them to be able to. It wasn't long before they were at least on the Sands again, and headed right for the Radish egg.

The closer they drew, the more apparent it became that it was more than just a cracked egg. "...Looks like pretty badly cracked," he said, the wry words spoken without any humor whatsoever. "About as bad as you can get."

But...had it just stood up? Did that mean it was going to be okay?

He hoped so.

Seytev returned a lot faster than expected, with Bereck leaning on his arm – seriously, the man must’ve been right outside or something, or else Seytev had developed super speedy running skills when Bakarn wasn’t looking. He only took his eyes off the brown hatchling for about a second to catch his friend’s eye, then he looked back –

It was standing up, stumbling, but still standing with mama Hiraeth’s assistance. That meant it was… it was okay, right? It was gonna at least try to Impress, or…

He forced himself to calm, to focus. What did baby dragons need? What did a Hatching have? Candidates – but the Candidates were all here, that wasn’t a problem. What else? The answer was obvious. “Food,” Bakarn said aloud. “They hatch hungry, don’t they? He’ll need – should I run to the kitchens?”

It was an absurdly optimistic question, based on the probably faulty presumption that the little creature would survive long enough to need feeding. But absurdly optimistic was Bakarn all over. He wouldn't say the word if out loud. He wouldn't even think the word if.

Listening twines anxiously around Keralder's mind, knows it is too soon- too soon!... Too soon for Listener, but not for Radish? Not all are the same, after all, maybe it should not assume? Perhaps brother's time but not yet time for the rest of them? Was it meant to be? Listening's hope is palpable and it seems to strain towards Keralder's mind more than ever, trying to hear what is going on in the outside world.