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At least this time he'd heard the bellowing coming from the girl's rooms first, and was already up and throwing on his clothes when whoever it was -- he hadn't learned everyone's name quite yet -- had come shouting at the boys to get out of bed. He wouldn't be late this time, not today! It was the Touching! His second, and he'd kept careful track of the days so he wouldn't be surprised. And he wouldn't be late today, either! Hopefully, he also wouldn't be nervous. Hopefully, but probably he would be.

Putting on his sandals and finally brushing his brown hair back into a loose ponytail, he hurried out with the first rush of Candidates. At least he wouldn't be late this time.

He paused at the entrance of the sands with everyone else and offered the Queen a low, gracious bow - proud of himself for not being as nervous this time as he had been last time. But he'd gone through the whole thing once before, and his usual nervousness was lessened due to the wonderful feeling of familiarity.

Shuffling after the other Candidates, he meandered around the sands, stroking and studying each of the eggs. The twin adder eggs certainly seemed promising; perhaps they both held bronzes, or browns? He gently touched each egg, studying both. However, the coral snake egg that seemed to hide behind the two caught his eye. Why did it hide? He knelt down near it and stroked it gently. It reminded him of himself a little; he didn't like to be out in the spotlight, as all the dragonets would be when they hatched. 'Don't worry, everything will be alright.' Hopefully it would find its other half. He hoped he would, too.

He walked around, making sure to touch all the eggs and spend a bit of time with them all, except the Queen egg. No, that was reserved for the ladies. He hoped that she went to a deserving Candidate, at least.

Once finished, he wandered back over to the group of other Candidates who had also finished, which as yet was still a rather small group. Thankfully he hadn't been late this time around.

Jessan watched as the multitude of candidates moved from egg to egg. His gaze saw friends and family alike touching, hope and wonder on their faces. One egg started to draw his attention and so, Jessan moved towards it. It was a medium sized egg with bands of brown, circles and triangles marking it. Moving silently, the hopeful candidate reached out a hand to stroke the hardening shell.

Simply amazing.

He glanced up at the queen who had Clutched this fine set. So many different sizes and colors. Jessan turned around to see two eggs almost identical to each other. Not as large as two of the eggs with stripes and bands, these two seemed to be comforting each other. Maybe holding each other up? Could be a blue and green pair, or maybe two greens? It was hard to tell sometimes, except for the queen and occasionally bronzes, what shell would hatch what color.

"As long as you are all healthy, that is all that matters." Jessan spoke softly to himself and the almost twin colored eggs. Carefully, he laid one hand on each egg and sighed. Soon, soon the eggs would hatch and he would be standing again. Time was running out and Jessan briefly wished he had been found sooner.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zhaylan was simply enjoying the coloring and patterning of the eggs. Beautiful, so lovely. Stripes and shapes, hues and colors. Slowly, the lessons and duties of being a Candidate were breaking the walls around his mind.

Mentally, he was growing. Though he still had no real friends amongst the candidates, at least he got along with his room mate. And he was showing the one boy, Kellar how to draw. Not that he had really seen either boy lately.

"Eggies, eggies. So close to hatching. What colors will you be?" Zhaylan asked himself as he moved forward to touch the mottled yellow egg. It seemed awkward like him. Like the both were unsure of how to act around their peers. A large but gentle hand reached out to stroke the shell. He didn't care about who else was around, Zhay honestly felt a connection with this one egg.

However, his one track mind vaguely understood that any dragon who hatched had the chance of wanting him. Reluctantly, he moved back and turned around. "Be safe. Hatch strong. That is what you must do."

He had been having such a good dream--something about dancing with a giant bubbly pie--when a sudden loud bellow had startled him awake. Sitting bolt upright, he cracked his forehead against the bunk above his and promptly fell back into place, clutching his face with both hands. "Gather?" he grunted around his hands, still hazy from the bump. "Touching, Nan! Wake up!" His roommate's reply did not immediately compute, and he remained sprawled in bed a moment longer, staring at the palms of his hands.

Then he was up and dressing with the rest of them; tug on the pants, throw on a clean shirt. He paused long enough to draw his hair into a knob on the back of his head before hurrying out of the door. The Hatching Sands were a familiar destination for the Candidates, but he couldn't have gone the wrong way if he'd tried. He flowed along with the steady stream of Candidates moving towards the Sands, absently rubbing at the growing bump on his forehead.

Touching. Not a Hatching, not yet, but there was some level of excitement to it. Here the dragons-to-be were meeting the riders-to-be, a brief, impersonal opportunity before lasting choices were made. Generally, Ceanandin approved of the idea. There was the selfish side to it, of course, the thrill of touching a dragon egg while the golden mother loomed steps away. But he liked to think that it benefited the dragons as well, gave them time to consider, to nitpick each Candidate before the madness of the Hatching. This extra time hadn't helped him out in the last Hatching back at Fort, of course, but maybe this time one of the unhatched would take notice.

Upon entering the Sands, he offered a low bow to the Queen, but paused as he rose and straightened, taking a moment to survey the clutch from a distance. Nine eggs, to five times as many Candidates; the odds were against every one of them. This clutch seemed to be one of extremes, with the colors and sizes varying considerably from egg to egg. His attention was immediately drawn by the two large eggs looming over their clutchmates, and it was to them that he first proceeded. Reaching out, he placed a splayed palm on the darker of the two, marveling briefly at the heat emitting from the hardened shell. His hand slipped down the egg, fingers briefly tracing the jagged markings along the shell, and then, smiling, he turned his attention to its opponent.

His attention wandered among the eggs, from the large, pale, zigzagged one to the small, nearly identical striped pair all but hidden behind it. From there he moved to another blocked in cream and black, to a dark, yellow mottled egg, and lingered briefly on a largish egg ringed in small triangles before ending with the vibrant green. His fingers itched to make another round but, having visited the lot, he stepped to the edge of the Sands to make room for those still circling among the clutch.

Here he lingered for a while longer, thoughts returning to each egg as he wagered with himself over what colored dragonets each would produce. Finally, reminding himself that imagining a Hatching would not bring it about any more quickly, he offered another low bow to the Queen, then, turning, left the Grounds.

It was not Z’nal’s bellow that woke Reyalt from a sound sleep - he was more than inured to that particular aspect of Weyr life, by now. Instead, it was Miri’s insistant chirpings that roused him into a state of sleepy confusion, waving his hands to bat the pesky flit away from his ear. She was right to wake him though, as he had only a few moments to stumble out of bed and into line before last of the candidates left the crowded barracks. He’d been here for quite a few hatchings now, and he still couldn’t figure out why the touchings had to occur at such an early hour. Perhaps keeping the candidates off-guard was the best, when encountering the Queen?

As he entered the hatching grounds, Reyalt was once again reminded of what a tiny, inconsequential part of the Weyr he was - the vaulted ceilings stretching far above him drilled that home, as did the golden queen, who dwarfed everything else on the sands into insignificance. The whole set up was staggering. And, although Reyalt didn’t like to admit it, it scared him. The runner races at Ista had seemed like a huge world of their own - a world he had been on top of, a world where he had felt in control. How frustrating (how frightening, he forced himself to admit) that he was now being shown how small that world really had been. And he was losing all semblance of control over his own destiny too, in one fell swoop! He was nothing more than a pawn now, Reyalt thought rather wearily - a ward of the Weyr, to be used or discarded as the dragons chose.

And yet, walking among the eggs scattered on the hot sands, Reyalt found that he couldn’t resent the Weyr for turning him into this “pawn.” As a hold-bred boy he had always been aware of an undercurrent of resentment for the assumptions and posturings of the Weyr, even though all of the hold-folk were glad to be protected from thread. Now that he was a part of this Weyr though, he found that it was impossible to be bitter. Just the thought alone of one day impressing a dragon was enough to make up for any resentment he had left over. Yes, even if it might never happen, having the possibility was enough.

This would be his third - or was it fourth? - clutch, and as always, by the time he reached his first egg he was sure that this would be the one. This time he would impress. This time, he would walk away with a dragon. In the back of his mind he knew there was a distinct possibility he would be walking away alone once more. But, with the warmth of the sands rising up from beneath him, and the heady murmur of his fellow candidates surrounding him, Reyalt found that he could not be reasonable. With odds as they were in the overcrowded Weyr, thinking reasonably would only crush any aspiration he had. He had nothing to lose, by foolishly hoping for a dragon. And he had had everything to gain.