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It had been a long, grueling couple of weeks. With the weyr at such high levels of tension, Evmeth found herself in a state full of kindred spirits, which in a way was strangely calming to the fidgety gold. Her soothing demeanor was the smallest of silver linings, though, and it all went towards tending to Hiraeth, sending her warm, comforting feelings as the queen recovered. She'd watched the candidates enter the sands with some apprehension, but had only a fraction of the protectiveness towards the eggs as she would had they been her own clutch. No, her focus was on Hiraeth and her mood, and woe upon the Candidate who sours the senior gold's fragile mood.

She sat in the rafters, her tail flicking back and forth quietly as she scanned over the candidate crowd. A somber group, but a cautious one, it seemed, which was everything they needed for this part of the touching--

And then everything collapsed into chaos.

Evmeth didn't move, but her eyes whirled into a sharp yellow-orange when the brown stumbled free of its shell, so early, too early, and instantly her mind was torn in two. Half of it went to Hiraeth, where she did her best to keep herself calm, listening to Bereck and reminding the elder gold to hold back, let the hatchling breathe, that everything was going to be just fine. The other half of her mind was one thought, panicked and urgent, sent back to the rider waiting nervously in her weyr.

Shylla I need you here now!>



Alcine had, for the most part, stayed at the back of the assembled candidates, being at least a head taller than the vast majority of them. She let the younger ones go first, take a feel for the eggs, while she watched from a distance, wringing her hands at her waist. This was it, this was the last hatching she would ever stand, and it was as sickly and weak as she'd ever seen, the meager grouping of eggs a testament to Hiraeth's poor health. The stern talking-to they'd received just before the Touching began gave the candidate all the more reason to stay behind a while and watch. After all, she didn't want to ruin what few eggs they had with a glimpse of her unfit mind. What would they see wrong with her this time, she wondered? Which of her weaknesses would she fall prey to?

It seemed, however, that the young brood didn't need her assistance to fall into disarray. Alcine had thought of a great many things that could have gone wrong at the Touching, but even in her worst nightmare she'd never imagined seeing a premature hatchling, and her eyes widened as she watched it stumble onto the stands. Her arms folded inwards and she took a few steps further backwards from the running and shouting, doing her best to just keep out of the way. However, never once did she turn away from the spectacle, her eyes alert and intent. If Bereck wanted them away, she was more than happy to oblige, but she was a spectator at heart, and even though horror gripped her she had to see clearly, had to know what was going to happen. She kept silent, but her lips mouthed a quiet mantra; Live. Live. Live.

It didn’t take long to close the distance between the lower caverns and the hatching sands. Especially not for someone like Bakarn who’d grown up in the Weyr; he knew the passages by which the kitchen staff brought food for the Hatching proper, when the dragons started humming and they had to hustle.

If only the current situation was such a happy one.

Master Cook Mirelle more or less looked at Bakarn like he was crazy when he rattled off his request for a bucket of raw meat; he had to repeat it at a more reasonable speed, and even then she shook her head and grumbled about crazy dragonriders as she wrangled one of the butchers for him. But it took short work to get him a bucket of raw wherry, pre-chopped – it had been intended for First Wing that evening’s dinner, but it would suffice given the rush.

He clutched the bucket to his chest as he bolted back at top speed; his tunic was a mess, but Bakarn wasn’t really the type to worry about getting raw meat on himself when there was a life at stake. There was only so far his lungs could hold out, though, and he stopped at the entryway to the Sands, doubled over and panting hard with the bucket still clutched in one hand.

What was going on? He couldn’t see from this distance – it was too far away, he could see Hiraeth hovering anxiously, but nothing else through the press of bodies. Had the little guy not found his rider yet? He hadn’t heard a keen, but – was something else wrong?

Oh shaff, more?

It was choking, Faranth knew on what but 'what' wasn't really relevant. Breaking away from Seytev's support Bereck sort of hop-stagger-fell forward in an extremely undignified fashion, ending up on his knees again in front of the brown. "Don't panic, he'll be fine," he said firmly, as much for his own benefit as anyone else's.

Now, how the shards did you do this with an infant, unbonded dragon? If he scared it too much it might between, but if he did nothing it might choke to death. Shards, shards, shards! He had to make a call, for better or for worse; inaction would solve nothing.

Hoping to everything that was good in the world that he was doing the right thing Bereck heaved the dragon's back end up over his shoulder - and at about the size of a herding canine it was heavy - and slapped it firmly and repeatedly between the wings.

The dragon struggled, understandably, but after a few blows it gave an almighty cough and spat up a mouthful of mucus and assorted egg fluids before sucking in a huge breath of air and squealing distress.

Just as Bereck moved to slide if off his shoulder and back onto the sands it snaked its head around and sank its sharp baby teeth into his left biceps. The healer made a strangled noise and his vivid blue eyes widened.

"...Help?" Now what?

The brown wriggled in Bereck’s grasp, all seven limbs flailing (and no doubt making the bite worse). Panic and disorientation made his eyes white-yellow, and Bereck… well, Bereck was simply there, and had just hit him.

After a long moment (probably longer for Bereck), his eyes whirled rainbow, reaching out for friendly contact.

…then, a little sheepishly, he unlocked his jaw from Bereck’s arm.

"You're kidding!" Kidder couldn't help it. He was naturally snarkish and the situation hadn't helped. "That crack headed fool nearly... He shouldn't have a shaffing flit after that! And the first person who gives me a line about dragons knowing best..." Shoving broken shell up their nose and other orifices sounded marvelous. By the first egg this was criminal.

Trailing behind Bakarn was a short woman with tawny skin and dark curly hair, fistfuls of her skirts in each hand as she half-sprinted for the sands. Shylla hadn't been given the details of how the touching had gone wrong, and she hadn't asked, rushing to the sands as soon as she felt the anxious pangs from her bondmate. Her hair was unkempt and bouncing around her with every step, and her boots were only half-tied, but she was there and that was what counted.

She paused for a moment at the entry-way, glancing down at the winded candidate with sympathy and the slightest twinge of confusion at the sight of the...raw meat? Shylla opened her mouth to ask, but before she could form the proper question she heard a squelching, inhuman cough and some general murmuring from the rabble, and at once her attention was diverted to more pressing matters. The woman wove herself between candidates big and small, every so often trying to glimpse between bodies at the eggs before them. It was only when she pulled herself past the candidates that she saw the whole scene unfold, her march halted in mid-step.

One of them...hatched? But how?

She took in Bereck's expression in with wide, frightened eyes, biting her lip. Her first instinct was to go in and help the poor man, but she knew that she was helpless in the situation, and more likely to do harm than any good. Behind her eyes, she felt Evmeth's tension rising, despite her attempts to keep cool on Hiraeth's behalf.





For a moment, Shylla's entire body tensed, and she looked up at her dragon with a stern glare of disapproval. Now was not the time for meddling, these eggs were not hers, and she was not to intervene. At all. The goldrider felt her bonded's presence shrink away, shocked and wounded, but ultimately she knew she had to be rough. There was no room for error, no room to be emotionally compromised.

The woman relaxed when she saw the hatchling's frightened eyes take on an opalescent hue, then crossed the distance to Venk, laying a hand on the man's tense shoulders. "I came as soon as I could," she murmured, looking up at him. "See? He found his candidate, everything is going to be fine."

Quote:

Alcine

Rainbow eyes, rainbow eyes, it meant that the sickly little brown had finally made his choice. But there was no voice in Alcine's head, no euphoria, so it had to be one of the others. While she glanced among the throng, looking for someone to be particularly slack-jawed or grinning, she caught ear of Kidder and his colorful mouth. Giving him a sharp look, she took a step in his direction and softly popped him on the back, shaking her head once for emphasis.

"Not now, you'll get us all kicked out," she hissed in warning, keeping an eye on the authorities who were liable to make them leave. She might have agreed that Zarike had been dense, but he had still managed to grab attention of a dragon, which automatically made him better than either of the older two candidates. The last thing she wanted was to get sent away before she could even touch the remaining eggs. Her chances were dwindling before the hatching had even started, she didn't need them getting worse.

"Well if they chase us off now we won't find out if anyone else is dumb enough to try and punch their way into a bond partner." Kidder growled. Hopefully the fact it had been a brown would discourage a ranking idiot from trying to find out if they could speed up the process to fit an preferred schedule. "Take note, they probably expect us to follow this shining example of wisdom someday." He snorted moving away from where he had stood rooted for so long to examine the Private Eye egg. If he was going to get kicked off it wasn't going to be before he touched another egg.

"Someone tell that egg their brother bonded." He noted, jerking his chin at the Listener Egg.