It was a standoff. Warden M’onk on one side, weyrlings on the other, some in between. Some bleeding, some hurting, two down for good - one human and one dragon. But all the hatchlings had Impressed, and if M’onk was to cull a hatchling now, he would destroy its rider along with it.
Far up in the sky above, a shape blinked into view. Then another. Then more, and more: a V shape, a full solid wing of dragons,
adult dragons. They formed an honor guard around the largest shape of them all. Colors could not be discerned at this distance, not with all the dragon wings forming bright silhouettes against the sky. But a large shape towards the front of the V broke off and wheeled towards the Hatching Sands, even as the rest descended in stately formation towards the landing fields where visitors to Warden’s Weyr arrived.
A great pale dragon, hide gleaming bronze, but a bronze so light it was nearly white - he circled above the hatching sands. Merceth bristled, roaring and bull-rushing the intruder, but the larger bronze effortlessly knocked the panicked brown from the air and pinned him neatly, securely beyond the stands where he would harm none.
The bronze remained like that, alert and sharp-eyed and watching the proceedings, as his rider dismounted. A young man with a prominent scar from eye to jaw strolled in and took in the scene with an expression that clearly said
well, this is a ********>. Nonetheless, he rattled off a crisp salute.
“Wingleader J’car of bronze Tauvolanth, honor guard to your new Weyrwoman, Ai of Zamanateth. Reporting in.” An eyebrow raised in M’onk’s direction, and then he turned - deliberately - not to the Warden, but to V’tyai. “I understand there’s some concern over the circumstances surrounding the death of Brakiheth. And it seems like you’re having some trouble with the weyrlings. How about I help you get them settled in, and then we can talk?”
Behind the Stands, further dragons were landing, riders dismounting and following their wingleader onto the Sands. One rider in particular, a sharp-jawed young man wearing a greenrider’s knots and holding a crossbow casually, almost fondly, drew alongside J’car, watching the sands with an expression of interest but little more. If M’onk wanted to cull any of them now, he would have to do it in the presence and the full view of a Watch Wingleader... and with a brand new Weyrwoman present and waiting to be welcomed to the Weyr.
M’onk’s smile dimmed only a watt or two and he stood firm. “Welcome.”
((OOC: And that concludes our Hatching, guys! More information on the Watch complement to come soon. Thanks for all your awesome participation. We look forward to seeing where all of this goes, and don’t think for a minute that the fun is over. It’s only just begun!))
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