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Nadry had seen Hatchings aplenty by now, and while it was always hard to see the maulings, she knew well that they were simply a fact of life when it came to baby dragons. The first and last she'd stood for had, by comparison, been tame, with any injuries to Candidates incidental, not intentional; her only fright had been Aresoth's attack on Elzebuth, and even that had not been so bad as others that had happened since.

But this time, being up in the Stands with C'lusi and R'shahar as always, keeping careful attention on her nieces, watching the friend they always stood with be shaken, broken, and tossed aside for dead, hearing Elibrie scream...fear and horror had gripped her like ice, and the despair of being able to do nothing but stay exactly where she was. Elibrie had then been spirited away by a pale little blue, leaving Oranie alone, and Nadry had waited, desperately hoping that a dragonet would come to her as well, but one never had, and the brownrider's heart ached for her older niece. Though she still worried for the younger, she knew that Elibrie was not alone, and never would be again. So Oranie was her first concern.

After the Hatching had concluded, and the Candidates would have had time to return to the Barracks and clean up, Menankith reached out to the young woman. I know it is cold, but if you wish the company, Mine and I will be outside. The brown's mental touch was gentle; he had long ago learned to be soft, for and from His, as she had needed it in those early days, and for the little hatchlings - in which he included Oranie and Elibrie, despite how close they were in age to His - he would be the same.

Nadry, bundled up and wating outside with Menankith, stroked his nose while they waited for Oranie - and while she tried, again, to think of what would be best for her to say and do. Thanks in large part to her bonded, she was no longer the soft and proper girl she'd been when she'd Impressed, and even then, if she were being entirely honest...she really wasn't someone to whom caretaking came all that naturally, in spite of all the time she'd had to spend helping with her much younger cousins.

But she did know that if she'd seen something like that happen to one of her friends on the Sands, she'd have been profoundly affected - and she'd barely even known G'ran and Ichta at the time. Her nieces had been with their friend for over a Turn, and stood with him multiple times. And then this had happened, and then only one of them had Impressed. She could only imagine how Oranie might be feeling.

When Oranie arrived, Nadry held out her arms for a hug, if she wished to accept it, but wouldn't force it on her, while Menankith gently offered his own care for the young woman. "How are you doing?"

It was a silly question to ask, but not as daft as 'Are you alright?' would have been, and it was at least a start.