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Emmitod

It never really occurred to Emmitod that he should move out of the way. Some part of him still thought of himself as an invincible observer. Even when he felt the teeth slide into his arm and strike the bone, and the claws dig through his garnments and into his sides, and even as he felt himself fall over and hit the sands, his main thought was Huh! So that's what that that feels like.

Teeth crunched briefly at bone, and Emmitod, feeling surreally not involved in the experience much at all, marveled at the sensation of intense pain. He'd never been bitten like this before, never felt the weight of a creature on top of him, bearing down upon him and making his sternum scream with strain.

Admittedly – and he knew this, also, distantly – he was losing a lot of blood. As the pressure of the beast was released and it moved on, Emmitod felt dreamily detatched. He wasn't worried, why should he be? He couldn't die, after all: the world was his dream, his experience. Without him, it would no longer exist. So he couldn't die. Of course not.

He lay there, feeling more and more serene even as hands picked him up and moved him away...



Malta and Poecileth

Malta watched, with a shudder, as the brown lay into the candidate and the first blood of the hatching splattered onto the sands. Poecileth had been right, she thought, as it left its prey behind and moved on to the rest of the candidates in it's path, that one was trouble. But Malta was quickly back in healer mode, her timidity hidden behind well-trained and disciplined motions as she prepared, along with the rest of the healers, to accept the injured parties from the candidates, hoping she could treat them before someone ended up dead... which was unlikely, as she noted the state of the candidate just now being hauled up off the sands and moved towards them...

Poecileth watched with growing concern as the brown beast slashed its way through the candidates and hoped, fervently, that it would find it's bonded soon...

"Bring him here!" said the healer, gesturing to Emmitod. That was the rules for this hatching, and Malta was not going to dare to go out into the fray.

(Edited)

Vesresh

Vesresh couldn't see the candidate that had been mauled, but he could hear the moans of pain and a very disturbing crunching sound that he didn't like at all. He moved as far back as the press of people would let him.

He could see the brown now, though, through breaks in the crowd, it's muzzle glistening with... Shards... Vesresh squeaked mentally, That's blood. Ohshards thats blood... Was the other candidate okay? He was too afraid to look...

And then the brown was shoved out of the way by another hatchling and was then attacked by... other hatchlings. Vesresh pulled his garnments closer around himself and watched, not happy at all...


Mazaah (Concept Entry)

Oh Maz definitely planned to stay on her toes tonight. “So...” she asked, “Who's Esre? A friend of yours?” she asked, trying to spot someone in the crowd of boys and the angry brown... and then something unexpected happened.

“Did he just... touch that thing?!” Maz exclaimed, “Did he just Impress?1” Whoa. Was that an impression?!

Jamarin and Jikkiri

Jamarin staggered back as the brown ripped into Emmitod and moved on. NOW he noticed the wherryshit of a candidate, and felt a sense of smug satisfaction at the red that sank into the sand under him.

Serves him shaffing right thought Jamarin. The brown didn't go for him either, but he heard a yelp behind him and turned to see Jikkiri with a scratch on his leg. “Jik!” he exclaimed.

Jikkiri had been fine until the claws had gotten him. Relatively unhurt though he was, Jikkiri was no longer so happy. “Jamarin, what's happening?” he asked, upset.

“Dragons.” said Jamarin, with a shrug that spoke of false bravado, “Don't start whining. Its just a scratch.”

“But Jamarin... it scratched me...” he pointed to Emmitod, “It hurt him. It hurt him real bad...”

Jamarin looked down, feeling slightly queasy at the odd pallor of the boy's skin. He'd never killed a man before, and, though it wasn't his first time seeing death happen, Jamarin wasn't sure he reallly wanted to see it happen, even to this ball of slime. “He deserves it.” he said gruffly, not quite believing his own words.

“But we have to help him, Jamarin...” Jamarin looked at his brother.

“Fine. You do what you want...” he said, gesturing to Lucayr “But he's sayin' to give him space.”

“But she's saying to bring him there.” protested Jikkiri, looking at Malta, “And she's a healer.”

Jamarin shrugged. “Do what you want. I'll stay here... you just come right back.” he turned to Lucayr, “Help my brother out, would ya?” he asked, as Jikkiri struggled to lift Emmitod.

He was heavier than Jikkiri had expected, but he had to help him, he had to do this or else... what would he do?

Vosin

She nodded as Ves explained, then added, "he's the smaller red-head over there." Vos glanced at her twin. "We're standing as close as we possibly can to the boy's line without being in it already." She sounded amused. "Shall we just go join their side now?" The teen glanced around to see if the candidatemaster was looking and if he'd notice a couple of extra red heads over on the boy's side.

Vos laughed softly at Mazaah's reaction. "Normally we don't touch them unless they've impressed to us." She peered closely at the brown. "However I don't think he impressed. That green does though." Lucky boy. The seriously wounded boy was removed from the sands. There was a definite bloody spot where he'd been laying. She wondered if he'd survive the night. Vos wondered if they'd all survive the night. At least one did, she thought as she glanced toward Fadrin. Not a boy she knew really well.

Lesex shifted slightly, craning to get a better view. Too far away to scent blood or inchor, but judging by the wet shimmery patches, both had been spilled in extensive amounts. He smirked slightly, watching the greens team up and harry the brown about the sands. Better do something boyo, the girls aren’t going to give up anytime soon.

Lucayr was so focused on the participants of the first Impression that he almost didn't hear Jamarin's request. That the little green dragon was already prepared to put itself in danger for the love of her bonded was startling, and incredibly attractive to his harper's mind. But he was needed in the here and now, and forgot the half-formed verse that was simmering in his mind as he darted in a wide circle around the dragonets to assist Jikkiri.

He pointed at Emmitod's feet as he crouched at the fallen lad's head. "You take his ankles," he said to Jikkiri. "I'll get this end." He was not particularly strong himself, being a slim harper unused to heavy labor, but he was fit and adrenaline was pumping through him -- just enough to enable him to lift Emmitod by his armpits. The smell of the boy's blood sickened him. He jerked his head towards the cavern entrance, indicating that they should try to get over there. Hopefully the healers would meet them halfway.

Kalendol's eyes flickered to the tired dragonets, and then the cracking of an egg drew her attention. Ah, the little Invasive Green had arrived on the scene. Kalendol remembered the little Invasive dragonet with a small smile, clasping her hands behind her back carefully as her eyes trained on all the eggs. Six eggs hatched and so many left to go.

It was impossible to miss Vosin's cloud of hair, and Kylerr offered her a smile and a wave. He tried to communicate as clearly as he could... He meant his patting of Fadrin's shoulder to indicate 'I'm good over here' and his raised fist to mean 'good luck and be careful.' What she got out of it, however, was anyone's guess.

The mildmannered blue was endearing to him. Clinging close to his family... something Kylerr could certainly appreciate. Appraising the situation. He shook it off. It's not that easy.

The greens that broke loose and broke for each other couldn't help but remind him of the Candidates on the touching sands. It's not that easy, but how amusing THAT would be!

Then, the brown.

Fear was no good on the Hatching Sands. The time for that was long before the Touching. Kylerr was met instead with a surge of alertness. It was 'go time.' He gripped Fadrin's sleeve and stood shoulder to shoulder with him, sometimes pulling, sometimes being pulled as he tried to maneuver them away from the stalking-

NOW CHARGING brown. He pulled Fadrin back toward the wall, away from the fray, and then... and then...

Oh, shards.

Those eyes, that lumbering... Kylerr's eyes flicked over to the first victim's crumpled... body? corpse? and back to the brown. Fear was no good, all right. He bypassed fear and shifted straight to terror. He tugged harder at the farmhand's sleeve. "Fadrin? We gotta-" That's when he felt Fadrin shift before him. "Fadrin, we gotta run... We can still..." Fadrin hunkered down. Kylerr took a half-step to the side. "Don't just-" The brown was too close now. "Please..." he said, maybe to Fadrin, maybe to the brown, maybe toward his parents. Most likely fate in general.

The impact knocked him back and down to the ground, but his eyes remained fixed on whatever was going to happen. The brown deflected, redirected, but Fadrin spun around on his way to the ground.

The light in here was so, so orange. He couldn't tell looking at Fadrin's ear or cheekbone if anything had happened... he didn't know how Fadrin would look if he had been bloodied...

Until Fadrin's face turned a little bit further. Black. It looked black in this light. "FADRIN!!!" Kylerr shrieked. It didn't matter for now what other fray was going on, what other dragons were hatching, whether the sound would make the brown target Kylerr once more.

The hold farmhand - Searched, even - with a family to go back to, fell to the ground. Kylerr scrambled over to him, placing his hand on an undamaged shoulder. He saw the pool of blood coming from Fadrin's face, almost too scared to look, but what kind of... friend... would that make him? Besides, the healers would want to know.

Flashes of red on Fadrin's tunic caught the corner of his eye, and he chose to focus on that damage first. The lesser of two gruesomes. He turned Fadrin onto his back. A clean set of slashes, right across his torso. It looked bad, but... Well, the other unfortunate Candidate was worse off there, for sure.

Kylerr looked up Fadrin's body, up his neck, and the blood pooled already next to the boy's head. Chin, fine. Lips, looked fine. Nose... less fine. He looked at the path the brown's claws scratched across Fadrin's beautiful face. The flesh was rent in clean rows, but the entire half of his face was soaked in deep red. He wondered what marvels the healers could work on that eye... "Fadrin..." He leaned over and kissed the boy's intact cheek. Might not ever have a chance to do that again. "Fadrin, can you hear me? Just squeeze my leg or my hand or something. Don't move too much, just let me know, okay? We gotta get you out of here."