Welcome to Gaia! ::

Wide doors open up into Fort's Hatching Sands. The hot golden sands are surrounded by layers of wide risers, tapering off as they approach the ceiling. The shallow stone have steep stairs carved into them, with edges rounded and smoothed by turns of use.

Off to the back is a small tunnel, mostly blocked from vision by a large rock. Almost right in front of it is a large mound of sand, obviously where most of the eggs are scattered across the sands, each given enough room to wobble as it will.

A large, bronzey-gold Queen rests on the sands, her rider sitting on an extended foreleg, watching over the clutch silently.

((reserved post?))

No visitors. I told the dragons who asked me, and I'm telling them, no visitors. Keep them out, keep them away.

Ray turns her head to look at the suddenly paranoid Queen. "Are you sure you're feeling well? And could you at least tell someone to bring me some pants?"

There is a long pause. Pants? The confusion in her dragon's voice is utterly obvious to Ray. Pants, yes. I remember. I will tell Nakoreth, his person to bring you pants. And food. And that drink stuff.

Ray fidgets. Wrath, what is wrong?

Another pause, I don't know. Wrath's tone is almost normal, and very confused. I just know that you have to keep everyone away. Everyone. Except Nakoreth's person, to bring you things.

For how long?

Until I'm done, I think. The uncertainty in Wrath's tone makes Ray's heart wrench, but she stays back several paces. At least she'd be decently clothed before too much longer.

Ray accepts the bundle of clothing gratefully, and the basket of food. She tries to ignore the fact that she's standing there in a sleeping shift, and resists the urge to scramble into her clothing as quickly as possible.

"I don't think so, not right now. Wrath is ... very nervous right now." Ray peeks back at the Queen, who is watching their every move intently. "You should go before she gets upset. Thanks." She smiles a bit shakily, biting a bit at her lower lip. A hissing of sand indicated Wrath was moving, slowly, still clumsy with the bulk of her eggs, but obviously toward the intruder. Ray drops the basket and clothes and raises her hands, trying to block the oncoming dragon.

Wrath! It's okay, he's going, he's going. She glances over her shoulder at K'mak. "Get out of here! Run!"

Wrath stops as soon as K'makin starts moving, and she settles herself in front of her eggs. Ray can't see what she's doing, but the dragon grunts in discomfort. Ray takes off her boots and pulls on her pants, glad to see that Kya had brought her a belt and proper shirt as well.

After dancing on the hot floor to get the pants up, she crams her feet back into her boots, then takes off her sleeping shift to slip on the shirt. He'd forgotten a breastband, but then, men didn't have that sort of problem... oh well, hopefully she wouldn't have to do any more running today!

When she's done, she looks back at Wrath, who has produced another egg. How many more?

Wrath blows air out her nose. I don't know. More than this. Ray idly wonders if that's just draconic counting at work, or if she honestly didn't know. Oh well. She goes to sit on one of the nearby gallery benches, hoping that she wouldn't really have to sit in here the entire time Wrath was clutching.

Ray finishes oiling Wrath. "There we go, gorgeous. Are you sure you're feeling better?"

Wrath puffs air out through her nostrils. Mostly. I think Glith wants us for a lesson. I'll ask her what kind of lesson... Ray nods and goes to put the oilpot away. She peels her light linen tunic off and shakes it out; sand stuck to the sweat-damp cloth is dislodged and rustles against the cavern walls. She replaces her top and brushes off her trousers, waiting for Wrath to reply.

Timing lessons, I believe. I, Kerth, and Xaith are to receive them. I believe the Weyrwoman, in her distracted state, forgot that I cannot go between at this time. Wrath's tone has a slight ripple of amusement.

Ray wrinkles her forehead, confused a moment before recalling someone mentioning that dragons could travel between times as well as places, and that as a Queenrider, she was supposed to know such things, and how to do them safely.

Go, meet the Weyrwoman and learn the lesson. I will listen. As in most things between Dragons and Riders, it is you who must learn to understand what happens. I do not need to understand, I merely go to the visualized location.

Ray sighs. These past few days of near-isolation have been such a relief, she didn't realize how much just dealing with other people and their problems on a daily basis had worn on her, until she'd spent several days alone. Still, Tolara was a friend, albeit a scary friend. "All right. Tell Glith that I'll meet her and Tolara in the Weyrbowl momentarily; I need to grab my flying leathers, I suppose. You'll be okay alone?"

Wrath levelled her rider with a look that spoke volumes. Ray winces. "Okay, okay. Isskio, are you coming?" The flit chirps and soars to her person's head, radiating lizard glee at the invitation.

The smallest things delighted Isskio sometimes.

After picking up her helmet, coat and gloves, already wearing her boots and trousers despite the discomfort of such heavy clothing in the Hatching Grounds, Ray heads outside, hoping that the breeze is brisk enough to dry her damp shirt before any betweening.

Ray stood a dragonlength away from the eggs. "May I inspect and touch one, Wrath? I want to see how hard it is."

The queen rumbled something, and after a moment flared her nostrils. You may.

Letting out a relieved breath, Ray approached one of the eggs, a mid-sized one toward the fringes of the clutch. Crouching, she rested her palm flat on the surface, the warm shell firm. Just a few days left. She placed her other hand on the egg and leaned forward, resting her cheek against the irregularly smooth surface. Faintly, she could detect a regular rhythm of the dragonet's heartbeat.

She spent a long moment, feeling, for the first time in what felt like ages, at peace. She couldn't mentally sense anything from the egg, but the steady heartbeat was comforting. It was a good clutch. Finally, she leaned away from it, then edged back on her knees before standing, brushing sand from her wherhide trousers. She tried counting the clutch, but Wrath sensed her motive and half-spread a wing over them.

"Fine, fine, I won't tally your children."

He's a strong one, in that egg. He will do well. He likes you but I told him he can't have you. Wrath's mental tone was amused. He has good taste.

"Of course he does." Ray stepped forward and patted the egg gently. "You'll be a fine strong fellow, and do your mother proud, won't you?" Wrath made an agreeable noise. "Anyways, I expect it'll be within the next sevenday. I need to organize the Candidates and have some sort of 'What to Expect' lesson." She held up a hand before Wrath could comment, "Yes, I know, not here. I really wish I knew what's gotten into you lately. You're so normal one moment, and so mixed up the next."

Sighing, she rubbed her head, "Though, I suppose it's probably the same of what's gotten into me. Here I thought once Tolara'd birthed, things would be easier, but even though the amount of work is less, it feels like so much. Shards, I feel exhausted but I'm not doing anything."

You're spending a lot of time in the heat, I know you don't like it. Maybe that's why you're not feeling well. At least you're not with child yourself.

Ray winced. "Shells, don't even think it! I don't need one more thing to worry about! Anyways, I'm going to go organize that class thing. Holler if you need anything."

Of course.

Alira enters the Hatching Ground, looking around as she got her first good look at the place they had been forbidden to enter. Spoting the queen with her eggs she hesitates a little before moving closer to the eggs, but still keeping a distance from this tempermental queen.

((Woot! Woot!! First Hatching post. You guys don't have to be scared anymore!))