Gallery View

---| Hatching Galleries |--------------------------| Southern Weyr (#233) |---

 Only a single flight of tapering stairs lead from the entrance cavern up into the slanted seating area known as the hatching gallery. Hot air slithers up the stairwell to leave a covering of slimy condensation along the walls where it meets the cooler, moisture infused air. The semi-circle gallery has been carved directly into one of the curved walls of the volcano and offers both spacious seating and an excellent view of the sands below. Benches, half a score in number, stagger in a uniform fashion until they reach to just under the monolithic ledges where Dragonriders and their lifemates settle. Row upon row of the wooden seats span the length of the sloping room in a smooth bend, each line resting but a few hands higher than the last in order to provide room enough for several hundreds of spectators to see down onto the 'sands'.

Jazra has escaped from her wing duties for a bit to hide in the hatching galleries and take a nap. Of course the ashes slowly creeping their way into everything outside and inside the grounds, the stinking smoke and the spatters of rain make this difficult. So Jazra is splayed on one of the gallery tiers, curling in this or that direction trying to find /some/ position comfortable enough to nap in. Sitting up straight Jazra shakes her head. "Its just not going to work." She groans, trying, and failing, to shake ashes out of her hair.

Lyani cheerfully washes off a bench with the other children in her chore detail. The dirtier she gets, the cheery she becomes and she whistles a certain sea chantey under her breath that if her mother heard it, Lacey'd faint.

Jazra finally gives up trying to nap, "Wonderful. I hope my weyr isn't this dusty." She watches Lyani for a moment, then calls out. "Chores huh? At this rate I don't think its going to make much of a difference." She says with an amused half smile. "If I can't snooze, odds are you can't get very much clean."

Taia arrives at the galleries with a sort of unsure look, a brow lifting as she looks around. She moves to a bench and sweeps it off before she takes a seat. Her gaze falls to Jazra and she smiles then looks to Lyani too, eyes finally landing downward on the sands.

Lyani giggles along with the other three girls on her crew and whispers to a friend. "She's from Ierne, they are all very sophisticated there." Spotting Taia and noting the lack of Southern knot, she calls over cheerfully. "This spot's not too gooey -- for now."

Veyanne says, "Hey, I resemble that remark -- sort of."

Jazra shakes her head. "No, I'm not all sophisticated, I'm not used to ashes coming down out of the sky and sticking to everything. How can your dragons hatch in this mess?" Jazra fusses.

The sound and vibration of the Southern Weyr dragons' humming intensifies. Overhead, watchriders, senior weyrlings and every available rider are busy ferrying in dignitaries. It won't be long! Residents and crafters alike begin to scramble for the best seats, many bringing towels to sit upon and head gear to protect from the falling silt and rain.

Taia looks to Lyani then nods and moves to the indicated spot, "I suppose it will wash.." she comments with a smile then looks down to the sands again. "I've never seen this before..a hatching..." The humming catches her attention and her eye widen, "I suppose that's..normal.."

Lyani cheerfully announces, with more than a hint of pride in her voice. "We do things special around here. Always have, always will. Our eggs are the best, even if you can't see them." She grins at Taia, protesting in good humour. "I cleaned it good, honest I did. And nothing's normal about many of our hatchings around here, You from around here?"

Jazra rolls her eyes. "bratling. Faranth I hope this doesn't happen often. I'll have to get used to it I guess. Oh Liaoth chew it raw and swallow. You heard the lady. I'm a transfer from Ierne." She adds to Lyani. She turns to Taia and smiles, waiting for her to answer as well.

Taia looks up and smiles, "I'm from Big Lagoon Hold.." she says softly, following the conversation around, somewhat befuddled but bemused, listening to the chatter. "The ashes are a common thing?"

Veyanne says, "Not since I've been here, or I would have high-tailed it back to the Crafthall. I'm Veyanne, a student there."

Falgin strides into the galleries, looking about him with a frown, then turns to the two men carrying burlap sacks. "Just pass them out to those who want them. It'll keep their backsides dry and clean compared to the benches." is indicated, as he moves to save a spot for Lacey and himself. Lyani is spotted, and given a grin. "Standing in for your mother, little one?" is asked as he nears, with a respectful nod to all the visiting dignitaries and riders and everyone else.

On the Sands, Naltia stands by Merilyth's head, her eyes locked intently on the queen dragon's spinning orbs. Merilyth's eyes are shifting rapidly with her frustration and agitation. The queen dragon lashes her tail with poor grace, fighting her rider every step of the way. Naltia, however, has mastery of her queen - finally. Merilyth is still tense, but it doesn't look as if she's going to refuse entry to the Sands.

On the Sands, As the dragons hum and the eggs begin to shiver, visitors file into the hatching grounds, accompanied by the smells of singed compost and the persistent shift and flow of firestone ash. If that was not bad enough, sporadic rain over the day has turned the grounds into mud, the air into an acrid fog. Between irritated eyes and soppy, muddy dust, and stinging gusts of occasional rain, the Weyr does not look its best. Residents and riders alike busily wipe down the gallery benches for the incoming guests, ushering people to their seats with sheepish grins. "It's Southern Weyr, it's a hatching, and what can you do?"

On the Sands, Tarianel heads out onto the sands, adjusting her skirts as she walks so they don't show quite as much leg as the Weaver has left showing. "Well, what a wonderful day to be wearing gold on. I'll be looking like a dragon after Threadfall in just a very short time. Next time remind me it needs to be red so I don't blend so much into the background." It seems she might have been carrying some things, because a couple of skins and a plate of 'food' is placed onto a table near where the parent dragons are standing.

On the Sands, Cazynth croons soothingly to the agitated queen as S'am rushes up to his lifemate's side. Looking briefly to Naltia and Merilyth, he takes a calming breath and rubs his brown's neck, eyeing the queen all the while "She gonna be...alright...with the candidates Naltia?" S'am makes a point to not approach the queen pair, no need to give Merilyth yet another reason to terrorize everyone.

On the Sands, A sudden gust sends a stinging buffet of ash and silt. The wind starts up a tiny whirl of the tiny particles, whipping across the sands, causing those on the sands to hold their arms over their faces in a fruitless attempt to protect their eyes.

On the Sands, Amariss gulps nervously with a rapid heartbeat as she takes her first steps onto the burning sands. Her simple white tunic sways gently against her calves as she walks forward. Giving the obscured Clutch Dam and Sire an honored bow each when she reaches them, she adds a thankful smile to Naltia. Turning when the formalities were completed she begins to make her way across the damp, smoky sands towards the eggs. Her head is raised bravely though her arms now hug herself nervously as she goes.

Jazra brightens as the hatching begins. "Oh goodie!" She looks around for somebody to sit with. Then she spots Veyanne. "Hey Vey!" She greets, moving over to sit next to Veyanne. "What's up?" She motions for Taia and Lyani to join her. "Come on! don't be shy."

Alina hurries up the gallery staircase, blinking a bit more than is customary and pausing two steps beyond the topmost stair to cough in the smoke. "Pee-yeeew! What a day for a hatching--I miss anything, have I?" who she's asking is anybody's guess. Either way, she heads for the first available seat and settles in.

On the Sands, Naltia diverts her eyes briefly from Merilyth's, frowning over at Tarianel and then nodding to S'am, "She'll behave, but I'm going to have a headache something awful after this," she grumbles. She tries to smile for the Candidates, but she's rather occupied in keeping Merilyth from, well, eating them. The queen begins to hiss, but is quickly cut off by a sharp mental jab by her rider. "None of that," Naltia growls. Merilyth snorts and settles with bad grace.

On the Sands, Evana minces over the sands to where the eggs are and gives a polite vow in the vague direction of a gold and a brown blur before sidling up next to Amariss.

On the Sands, Gwen's favorite sleeveless, thin linen sunjacket is covered in dirt and ashes. Irritated, the bluerider pauses only to hand her jacket to someone sitting in the front row, then moves out to stand near Naltia.

On the Sands, Tarianel nods at Naltia, "Well, maybe stay away from the wine we've brought then, I don't want you losing control. There's plenty of juice and water too, just so we all stay hydrated."

On the Sands, K'jan hurries onto the sands, shod in nice thick boots and a green outfit to complement Tari's gold. Unfortunately, it's now sort of gray-colored, as is his usually tan face, as he moves to the Weyrwoman's side with a nod to the others present. "Did I miss anything? There was a mixup of who was to bring Holder Murol's party and he was raising a stink. He felt he rated a bronze and got a brown. Sorry if I'm late, love." He gives Tari's cheek a peck and then eyes the food "Ooohh...is that for me? I'm starving. Hello, Naltia. Today's the day, is it?" The last is said very politely.

On the Sands, Lonzo seems to hesitate as he steps out onto the sands, the line behind him halting briefly. He doesn't even notice at first the bits of ash shifting down to rest on his skull and his clean white robes. No, his gaze goes directly to the gold dragon and you can almost see him going pale and a bit green. More then likely he's remembering the egg touching. "Psst... Lonzo... Move, you lumbering mountain!" That coming from Marlianne who if just beyond him. Her face still holds a few smudges of soot from heath cleaning. Lonzo shakes himself out of it when he hears her and moves further onto the sands, casting a small glare at her and only getting a tongue stuck out at him in return. He quickens his pace a bit and moves into his place in the circle of things. He then turns with some of the other candidate and bows low to the gold, his mouth moving but nothing can be heard. Candidates near him would hear him whispering. "I can do this." Over and over again.

On the Sands, Juniper walks onto the Sands alongside the line of Weyrlings, gesturing encouragingly to one or two who are hesitating. She draws aside, though, as they start to encircle the eggs, making her way to the edge of the Sands where she can see as clearly as anyone is likely to amid all this smoke, and then shifting round until she's close to Gwen. She grins at Naltia, S'am and Gwen. "Why does something like this always happen when we have a hatching?"

Sana climbs up into the galleries, and accepts the offered burlap bag, taking a seat near the end of the galleries, but still a decent distance from the gold. She offers waves to those she recognizes, smiling at her friends. And then, she keeps an eye on the candidates, blinking, as a realization seems to hit her.

Lacey climbs up the steps, anxiety not easily masked behind a still gracious smile on her lips. Murmuring apologies along the way for the weather, the Headwoman glances about for her tall husband. Spotting Falgin, she waves in his direction with a smile, then grabs her filthy daughter by the shoulder. "Sit. There is not much more we can do now, but sit --- well, not near anyone fancy dressed."

On the Sands, Regale stays to the edges of the sands, watching and waiting for the most part after moving out onto the sands with the candidates.

On the Sands, Naltia glowers at K'jan but manages to get her temper under control - she has more important things on her mind at the moment. "Yes. Finally," is her curt reply. Then she's back focused on Merilyth, ignoring any other attempts to draw her into conversations.

On the Sands, The white, dry surface of the Snowbound Desert Cactus Egg shudders, shaking fit to fall apart. Cracks clamour dangerously up its sides, bits flake off, bigger and bigger shards, and then the pieces simply fall, like a pane of glass that has been struck by a projectile. Within is a blocky hatchling, which creels in annoyance at the mess around it. Then the hatchling crows, bolting forwards, candidates dash to get out of the way. A scream of joy from a rugged looking sage green, "Easy there Hadigrath, I'm U'rle, just calm down we'll get you fed."

Veyanne smiles over toward Jazra. "Good to see you here -- I was wondering where you had transferred to. This is a bit different than the hatching I attended at Ierne, and it's not even started yet."

With a delicate swipe of her hand Taia brushes a bit of ash-goo from her skirt and then looks to the sands in wonder, watching every little detail unfold.

Falgin is sitting on a burlap sack, holding another on his hand as he tells with a particularly corpulent holder "No, you can't sit here. The headwoman of Southern Weyr will be doing so. Perhaps you might try over there?" He points to a row with two unoccupied seats together "Plenty of room for you there, sir." A wave is given to Lacey as she arrives "See? There she is, right there." He's picked prime seats, right in the middle and close to quite a few people they know...

Alina has just snagged a burlap sack from a passing assistant, and is in the process of settling it on her section of bench the better to avoid any *more* ash and dirt getting on her clothing, when she spots a certain bluerider. "Heyla, Sana! Over here, there's room. Not much, but it's something anyhow. C'mere!"

On the Sands, Tarianel glances at K'jan, raising her cheek for that kiss, and then grinning, "It's for us all, dear" she says in a rare moment of respite from her formality. "And thank you for sorting Murol out, he doesn't rate a bronze, and I certainly wasn't going to send Chamynda to pick him up either!" There's a moment's consideration of Naltia, and a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. Hand is used to capture K'jan's, dragging him closer so she can root around in his pockets for something -- seems she stored something there since she has no pockets of her own. "Naltia, maybe this'll make this a little easier today?" she offers, dangling from her fingers a knot and not just any knot, though those in the galleries would not be able to see the delicate arrangement of a Junior knot.

On the Sands, S'am nods agreeably with Naltia, though he keeps glancing warily to the queen, even if she is settled down for now. Cazynth is for once, being very vocal, adding his own tones to that of the welcoming song. S'am offers the candidates an encouraging smile as they take their places. Grinning to Juniper, he shrugs. "No idea. Does seem to be one thing or another though doesn't it?" He reaches up and swipes at his already sweaty face, leaving dirty streaks.

On the Sands, Amariss hears the sound of a hatching but can not see it. A voice calls out and she smiles nervously. "The first impression!" She smiles over to Evana. "Where did Lonzo get to? Jabari?" She calls quietly.

Jazra laughs. "I know. I think that was the first impression down there. Oh dear." She sighs. "Alright, lets hope the hatchlings make it through this." She sighs and turns to watch the eggs.

On the Sands, The blue green surface of Foamy Surf Egg ripples and roils, split by a hundred hairline fractures that abruptly connect, shattering the shell into a rain of turquoise and gold fragments. A small, smoke-blurred figure lurches to its feet amid the wreckage, chirping confusedly at the world around it. Staggering from its ruined former home, the dragonet teeters across the sands to inspect a cluster of candidates. Finding nothing, it moves to a second, then a third. It's a young man on the edge of that third group that catches the hatchling's attention. Scrawny, dark-haired Kehan is the one who finds himself the focus of violet-spinning eyes, to the utter amazement of the hopefuls nearby. "Eshereth!" His Turns of rejection on the sands finally at an end, K'han sinks to his knees. As he does, enough smoke is stirred around him that Eshereth's sky blue hide is revealed.

Lacey hides a smirk behind a cough as she overhears Falgin. Smiling her thanks to the pudgy one as he moves, she settles in beside her husband. "Newlyweds, you know, hate to be apart and all that." Settling herself on the sack, she nudges the steward. "Thank you love.. Did I miss anything?" Spotting Taia again, she waves. "Can you see?"

On the Sands, Naltia glances back at Tarianel, ready to snap at the Senior for interrupting her continued 'shut up shut up shut up' to her queen. She does a double take at the knot, though. Then she looks suspicious. "Are you trying to..." she bites off her further retort, "What are you trying to do?" she asks, her voice trying to be schooled and calm and even polite.

On the Sands, Evana sighs softly. "That was my favorite egg." A little more loudly she calls out "Congratulations, K'han."

On the Sands, Amariss already feels a bead of sweat trickle down into her eyes. Is it from nerves or the tremendous heat emanating from the sands below her constantly shifting feet? One can only guess. Whichever it may be, she continues to peer out towards the hatching eggs not liking the fact that she cant see them very well. "Was that a blue? Congratulations Kehan!...I think it was Kehan?"

On the Sands, Tarianel lifts her eyebrow into an arch, and then dangles the knot further away, "If you don't want it I'm sure I can put it back into K'jan's pocket."

On the Sands, Assistant Weyrlingmaster F'sord steps forward to round up the next to Impress, and retreats with the new blue pair to the small cavern.

On the Sands, K'jan's expression tightens a bit at Naltia's definitely lacking greeting, but he says not a word about it, instead grinning down at Tarianel as she takes his hand, giving it a squeeze "He wasn't best pleased when he saw Holder Garonel got a bronze...they just happened to arrive at the exact same time, too, so it isn't like he could avoid it. Those two have been enemies forever. But Garonel at least tithes what he should. Murol gives us second leavings and doesn't even pretend otherwise." Southern gives respect to where it's due, y'see. He goes silent, watching Tarianel give Naltia her knot, a slight shake of his head his only response to the younger woman's reaction.

Sharp-eyed Lyani catches that knot exchange and giggles."She'd better not pick her nose down there, or something. Poor Naltia, more paper work."

Sana hears Alina, and moves, taking the burlap with her, to sit next to the other rider. "Hey, Alina!" She sets down the burlap, and then sits on top of it, watching the sands.

On the Sands, Lonzo has suddenly realized he's being coated in ash, he looks at his robe and tries to brush some of the ash off, only to smear it. He jumps at the sound of the first egg cracking and looks over at the gold. Not her. He hears another egg and looks around to see the first hatchlings stumbling about. He turns his eyes back to the eggs and takes a deep breath.

From the ledges above, there's a warble of pleasure and--could that be amusement? A second later, Alina's blinking again. "Kirienth just said... Kehan? Really? 'Bout time, that! Couldn't see what color he got from over here, but it's Eshereth, apparently. Or Esherath, wasn't quite clear. Anyway." and then Sana's turned up. Lina beams at her wingrider, gesturing to the hazy sands below. "Interesting, hm? Even though you likely can't see any more'n I can."

On the Sands, Naltia snorts, "Sure there's room in there with all those Weyrling knots he carries around?" she retorts before she can help herself. Then she rounds on Merilyth, "Oh will you just stop it!" she bellows. Merilyth looks rather offended, and then flops her head down across her forelegs, heaving a dramatic sigh. Fine. No one understands me. Naltia turns to look at the knot again, her expression looking rather awed and surprised, "You're serious? You're not teasing me?" She reaches hesitantly towards the knot. Not because she doesn't think she deserves it, but because she's afraid Tarianel is going to pull it back with a 'ha! Hatching Fools!'

Taia looks up and sees Lacey then smiles, nodding her head, "I can see.. not altogether sure what I'm seeing but I see it.." she answers. She gives up fighting the ash for the moment and it settles starkly against her dark hair but she is content to ignore it for the greater attraction, hatching.

Jazra sighs, then offers Taia a handkerchief. "If you need to keep the ashes out of your mouth and protect your nose, try this." She offers. "Yeah, I can sorta see, but sorta not see."

On the Sands, A stiffer breeze penetrates the Hatching Ground, where the shape of the Bowl causes it to spiral; churning the ash to swirl in gloomy eddies. A pair of candidates is caught in the sudden turbulence and step back hastily, rubbing at streaming eyes.

Lacey sighs philosophically. "Well, you are seeing everything everyone else sees, then my dear. Nothing. Oh by the way, I'm Lacey, I didn't catch your name earlier" Fishing a hanky out of pocket, she hands it over to Veyanne. "Can't make anything worse."

On the Sands, Tarianel wrinkles her nose, "Naltia, I never tease about this kind of thing" she says with a sigh, "I would've hoped that you'd realize that by now." She glances over her shoulder to K'jan, "He's the only person I tease, and rottenly too!" A hand brushes some ash out of her hair as it lands, "But, if you don't think you deserve it, then you obviously don't and we shall have to work a little harder to make that true."

On the Sands, Gwen returns from seeing U'rle off to the barracks and is just in time to see Naltia being presented with a new knot and smiles. "Perfect, she deserves it." She worries and frets as she watches the swirl of ashes. "Oh this could be a problem, what if there's a mauling? We'll have no way to find the injured. And the candidates won't be able to see the hatchlings coming."

On the Sands, S'am glances away from the eggs as some are already hatching and choosing their lifemates. He tilts his head at Tarianel when she dangles the knot and lowers his head to hide a grin. Though, Naltia's little outburst gets his attention again. "Calm yourself Naltia." He smiles and waves to someone up on the gallery and lowers his voice a bit, speaking through his grin "Every's watching Naltia."

"I think it just started, Lace." Falgin replies, slinging one muscled arm over her shoulder to tuck her close and nuzzle her cheek at the same time. "Mmm...missed you." This is all for the benefit of the fat holder, of course. "Seems like we haven't seen each other in turns, and it's only been ten minutes." A grin then. "You haven't missed a thing. I think something hatched, but hard to tell in this muck." A glance is cast back towards Taia "Hullo there...I'm Falgin, this one's husband and Southern's Steward" He gives a nod to Sana and Alina as they arrive, then murmurs to Lacey "Who's the new girl?"

Taia takes a hankie from Jazra then smiles behind it as she holds it up gratefully, "Oh that does help, thank you. I'm Taia," she says in answer to Lacey, directing a smile her way. "Did you say newlyweds?"

On the Sands, Naltia reaches out and snatches the knot so quickly that her hand is a blur. "I deserve it," she says, grinning as she quickly replaces the Weyrling knot on her shoulder, offering it to K'jan with a tilted grin. "Thank you, Tarianel," she says more seriously, "I'll do you proud, you know I will."

On the Sands, They Went That Way Egg begins to quiver, slowly, rocking back and forth in tempo with some unseen music within.

Veyanne nods and accepts the handkerchief gratefully, adding a "Thank you." Then she turns her attention back to the sands, raising her hand to her forehead as if shielding from sunlight works as well as shielding from ash.

Jazra sighs and pulls out her own kerchief. "I"m Jazra, green Liaoth's. I transferred here from Ierne Weyr. And from what I've heard, Lacey and the steward, Falgin, got married." She chuckles.

On the Sands, Juniper nods to Gwen. "And we'd better ask a healer to come to the barracks once they're all off the Sands and just make sure nobody's suffered too much from the smoke. And check on the left-over candidates, too." She peers across the Sands, edging forward just a little in order to see better.

On the Sands, K'jan allows a chuckle for Tarianel's attempt at teasing. "No, it usually turns into torture when you do it, sweet." He teases right back, then nods to same, taking the weyrling knot from Naltia while barely glancing at her and stuffing it in his pocket. He turns to S'am "So....looking forward to this, Weyrsecond? No more sands sitting, at least." A gust of wind blows compost smoke right in his face "Gah! What a stench!"

On the Sands, When Sunset Lining Egg cracks apart, it is not along the threads of golden orange that trace its shell. The dark portions of the egg outward as the dragon forces its way free, leaving large sections of brighter color almost intact until they hit the sands and smash. The hatchling responsible for the mess is a quiet one, barely making a peep as it navigates down a small mound of sand and heads toward the first white robes it sees. The edge of a group of giggly girls is this one's destination; lavender eyes meet luminous green ones as Gretyl sinks to her knees, all nervousness gone in the face of a dragon to whom she can truly relate. "Emilath!" As they leave the sands, Emilath's color is briefly visible as subtly beautiful bottle green.

On the Sands, Amariss wipes sweated palms against her robe unknowingly leaving streaks of soot. Looking left and then right she peers at the other candidates that she can see. Considering the visibility, she cant see very far and it makes her uneasy. Calling out to those nearby she says by way of encouragement, "Hang in there, this too shall pass....Can you see anything?" Her voice was surprisingly steady and clear.

Lacey murmurs to Falgin. "I don't know, she came in with the rest of the visitors, nice though, I hope she did eat, it was crazy in there for a while.." In a more conversational tone, she replies to Taia. "Yes, about two months and one sevenday and 22 hours to be exact." She doesn't mind being hugged so close, no, she moves a little closer still. "Missed you too. I was at the infirmary today ...." She leaves that thought trail as she looks down. "Veyanne, was that a bronze or a brown down there?"

Sana nods, "Interesting, for sure. I Just noticed, a day or so ago, this is the first clutch I'm seeing from this side. That last one, I missed, The one before that, I Impressed, and before that, when I was here, I was standing, for the most part." She sighs, and wrinkles her nose as she breathes back in, "Oy. Have to say, even with the humidity, our hatching was better than this. Humidity is better than this stench, in my opinion."

On the Sands, Gwen looks over at Juniper. "Yeah, I think a healer was on standby in the weyrling barracks, I'll take Gretyl off the sands and see." She slips in beside Gretyl and says calmly. "Come with me. The weyrling barracks are this way."

On the Sands, Evana reaches up to rub her eyes, then immediately realizes her mistake. It's too late, though, the damp ashes have been rubbed into her face, giving a kohl-like appearance to the girl's eyes.

On the Sands, Tarianel grins at K'jan and steps near, "But you enjoy it all the same!"

On the Sands, They Went That Way Egg shakes harder, bumping along and making a complete circuit of its egg wallow, covering itself in ash and dust.

"You'll get no argument outta me, Sana," is Lina's answer. She's speaking through a grimace at the stink of burning leaves gone wrong pervading the weyr, but it's not as though that distorts anything much. The grimace, not the ice. "We had rain and mist for ours, but I'd take that over *this* mess any day of the sevenday! And as for seeing hatchings... well, least you're here and watching, yeah?"

Falgin sends Taia a smile "Well met then, and welcome to Southern. I'd have wed her long before she'd let me, but she insisted on a right proper do and then we had to delay it due to an illness in my family. We're making up for lost time, though." He tickles Lacey's side as he says this and gives her a tender look, before his gaze shifts to Veyanne "No lessons today, I imagine?" is inquired

Veyanne hmmmms. "I'm not sure, I thought I saw a flash of green. They may need to bathe these dragonets before their first meal, at this rate."

On the Sands, A shift of the wind brings welcome relief from the drizzle but brings with it the arid, smoky odour of burning grass and compost. From the galleries, shouts go out and several residents run pell-mell toward the garden. Apparently, the smouldering fire is not as cold as they had thought.

On the Sands, Blinding Spectrum Egg is difficult to spot through the gritty haze. Minute vibrations cause the egg to twitch just a little, dislodging a bit of sand rounded up at it's base. The lack of lower support allows for more freedom of movement, or more likely, freedom to tilt over. Blinding spectrum goes still for a time, then it suddenly thumps, something within obviously wants out. After a brief struggle, all movement ceases, perhaps a brief warm up session in the hot pool is in order.

On the Sands, Lonzo lifts a hand to run over his shaved skull to try and wipe away the sweat, but instead he leave a smear of grey making it almost look like he might have hair. He starts to drop his hand, but stops to stare at it as its covered in sweat and grime. He spots the impression just beyond him.

Jazra shakes her head. "I was on the Weyrling staff at Ierne, the hatchlings ALWAYS get fed first." She emphasizes. "then when their hides start to itch, they get cleaned off and oiled." Jazra explains. "They further cement the bond between them by being fed first."

Taia smiles over at the couple and nods, "Congratulations then," she offers to them both then she settles back to try to watch, her dark eyes peering over the hankie as she holds it to her face. The gaze shifts toward Falgin and she nods, "Thank you," then she just smiles at the rest, a delighted expression on what part of her face can be seen.

On the Sands, Amariss peers cautiously towards the sounds she hears. Muscles tense in preparation for movement should it be needed. Licking dry lips only affords her a bitter taste of soot. "Who only knows when this stuff will end! Yuck!" She spits what soot she can out of her dry mouth and screws up her nose as the taste still remains.

On the Sands, Furious Finger Egg explodes, and a lithe, graceful hatchling bugles in sheer elation at being alive. It runs this way, it runs that way, it pokes its muzzle as a candidate and snorts, no not you. A candidate giggling at its expense gets a thwap with a wing. Not you either. Not right! The hatchling croons in disappointment, until it catches a glimpse of a tall, charming candidate and rushes over, bugling in excitement. In the joyous moment, it shakes itself free from the ashes and shards like a canine, revealing a stormy ocean blue. "J'ak, I like it, straightforward and to the point." J'ak eyes, "Taohith, interesting name."

On the Sands, K'jan gives Tarianel a somewhat skeptical look "Since when have I enjoyed a hatching? They are invariably during the most inclement weather or some disaster befalls us, or we can't sharding see because they decide to hatch at night. I'm usually busy doing something else and have to rush out here, or else I'm run off my feet organizing transportation for our guests. I'm always thirsty, always starving and I have to get all dressed up in this.." He tugs at his fancy clothes. "Not to mention, I have to disapoint an entire handful of candidates when the thing is over. What's to enjoy? Oh, and did I mention the headache of a whole new batch of weyrlings to train? Though that's more their headache than mine.." He jerks his head towards the weyrlingmasters. "Thank Faranth." He pulls Tarianel into his side "Only good part about a hatching is that you're here with me, sweetheart."

On the Sands,
     The grey clouds swirling over the surface of the They Went That Way Egg
     coalesce, the power of the storm increasing as the pressure builds. The
     impending hurricane causes the ovoid to suddenly tremble and shudder,
     rocking back and forth in a rhythmical manner. Then, with a loud *crack*
     the egg splits neatly in two, and an egg wet hatchling is left standing
     on all four feet -- a perfect dismount.

On the Sands,

        Egg wet and sticky, this hatchling is a magnet for the ash that's been kicked up by the wind. The cinders that cling are increased as a new layer of the dark dust flies in and sticks to its hide without hindrance, shadowing its form even more completely than before. The form is longer, leaner and thinner than many of the other hatchlings and in places seems a little too boney, with lots of angles sticking out in odd places.

On the Sands, Amariss is nearly beside the candidate that impresses this time and so can see it a bit more clearly. "A blue!" She calls out with congratulations.

Lacey smiles her thanks to Taia and turns back to Falgin after grinning at Veyanne. "So, how was your morning, if I didn't already know.." She wriggles just a wee bit in her spot. "The infirmary was almost peaceful compared to the mayhem in the Weyrhall. I wasn't there long." She peers down at the sands. "Oh my goodness. Why do they insist on putting on their best at our hatchings. The laundry workers are going to be scrubbing forever."

Sana nods, "Yeah. Just commenting how different it is from this side." She keeps an eye partially on the candidates, a few in particular, and partially on the hatchlings ad newly Impressed weyrlings.

On the Sands, Tarianel grins at K'jan, "Oh, but you get to spend sort-of uninterrupted several hours with me, isn't that worth it?" She curls her arm around his waist and grins impishly as he pulls her to his side, "And, I like when you dress up. You look good dressed up."

On the Sands, Juniper darts in among the candidates to collect J'ak and Taohith and escorts them from the Sands. It's a while before she comes back, though, and when she does, she tells Gwen, "I've sent for some buckets and barrels of water, and more rags. Some of these hatchlings are going to need rinsing, or oiling them will just stick this vile /stuff/ to their hides." She pauses to grin. "So will the riders, I guess."

"I'm sure Veyanne's right, and the things would rather have food than a bath - just like children, if you ask me." Falgin winks at a little boy sitting nearby who is decidedly grubby and hauling down a meatroll, causing the boy to giggle. He then turns his attention to the sands "How are we supposed to make heads or tails of the hatchlings in this muck?" is wondered to no one in particular.

On the Sands, Gwen returns, seeking out Juniper and adds in a quiet voice just for her to hear. "There's a healer on standby in the cavern, and there's a dragonhealer there as well." She takes a deep breath. "Healer Teluin has also asked one of his fellow journeymen to join him as quickly as he can. Just in case there's a serious injury."

On the Sands, Is that snow on the sands? No, it's just Frozen Tundra's Finest Egg shedding slivers of shell all over its immediate area. Bits and pieces rain from the top of the ovoid until the whole thing reaches critical crumbling mass and the whole thing collapses, letting a dragonet slink out. Scarlet eyes are all that mark this one's passage as it ambles from a group of girls to a group of boys, then diverts and heads toward a half-dozen candidates in a different direction. Both boys and one of the girls are barely glances at; two other girls get slightly longer consideration, but it's the sixth and quietest of the lot that finds herself with a hatchling nuzzling her arm. Shy, sweet Pasha stares in astonishment before announcing "breathlessly "Quellath!" As she kneels to embrace her lifemate, the smoky haze stirs enough to give onlookers a glimpse of ocean green.

On the Sands, Regale comes to life as eggs hatch, dragonets impress, and the steam just gets steamier. Moving from where the wall holds her upright, the greenrider joins the other AWLMs not far from the action and waits as things begin to happen much faster. "Let's just hope there aren't any serious injuries, would hate to have such a nice day ruined by blood being spilt on the sands."

On the Sands, Blinding Spectrum Egg has been silent and motionless for a few minutes now, as if trying to lull it's shell into a false sense of security. That changes in the blink of an eye however, as the egg shifts first this way and that, muffled *pops* and scratches might be heard as the little hatchling within tries to find a fast lane for its escape route. A weak spot is finally found, and exploited relentlessly, causing Blinding Spectrum Egg to wobble first one way, then another.

Taia gets lost for a moment in all the commotion and voices, eyes locked on the sands..well.. ashes and sands, trying to catch a glimpse, simply awed by the whole thing.

On the Sands, Regale moves away from the others, motioning to the new greenpair, "Quellath is it? Well how about we get you pair settled off the sands where you can feed and oil her Pasha which'll make you both more comfortable." With an encouraging smile, more softly said words, the older greenrider escorts the younger pair off to the side cavern.

Lacey rolls her eyes at her dense husband but shrugs philosophically, taking a small meatroll from the server who passes them down the rows. Automatically, she calls out to her daughter. "Only one, now. And the bubblies aren't the type you like, they are filled with savoury fillings, adults like them better than children." As a bit of ashy goo drips off a hatchling below, she sighs. "The laundry workers are going to be complaining something fierce."

On the Sands, Amariss nervousness was slowly ebbing away and being replaced instead with a cautious excitement. With constantly shifting feet, she balances lightly in preparation for quick movement. Her dark brown eyes peer into the mess trying to see whatever she can. Hearing Pasha's voice in an Impression she hollers out. "Pasha! Congratulations! You're a weyrling now." She grins brightly.

On the Sands, Ashen Shadows Hatchling is not still for a moment, shaking its head at the coating of ash and egg goo that are sticking to its hide like a wet crust. It takes a few steps forward, remarkably graceful for a dragon just hatched. Only a faint stumble as it realizes it has a tail betrays it's newness to the world. It strikes out, shaking its head again, towards the Candidates.

On the Sands, Evana has been observing so far, but none of the hatchlings have caught her attention. This changes as she spots the Ashen Shadows hatchling, which she turns to watch pointedly.

On the Sands, Amariss sees the faint outline of an ash-encrusted hatchling striking out towards the candidates. Gasping tightly she tries to peer closer. "I hope no one will get in that one's way."

Taia looks up and nods her head, "It certainly seems a fair bit of good luck to me.." she agrees with Jazra, "Oooh..look at that one.. looks almost.. like a spirit..all thin and coated in ash.. oh..well it did till it started to run down its leg.." she says with a giggle.

Having already stuffed one of the savoury spicy ginger and porcine puffed pastries in her mouth, Lyani's eyes water and not from ash. Hot! She manages to chew and swallow without spitting it out but her friends laugh at her misfortune.

On the Sands, Ashen Shadows Hatchling moves with precision, each foot carefully placed on the sand and ash, lifting off again with hardly a ripple left in its wake. Its wings are spread, mantled to improve its balance as it walks down the line, sniffing here and there, and sneezing once when ash gets up its nose.

On the Sands, Lonzo's eyes scan over the eggs and the hatchlings breaking from their shells. He swallows nervously at each new ash covered hatching that passes him by, almost seeming relieved at times. He leans over the candidate closes to him. "Look at them all. can't tell hide nor hair of what they are." He stands a bit straighter and cranes his neck to look for some of the other candidates.

Jazra grins, "You wouldn't know it from Liaoth though, she's anxious up there. I think she thinks that the hatchlings won't be able to see the candidates if the ashes are in their way. It looks like that isn't a problem though. I need to introduce you to Liaoth." She adds. "She's very friendly."

On the Sands, K'jan smiles down at Tarianel "I can think of better ways to spend several hours together...and less crowded places." He murmurs, dropping a kiss on her upturned lips. "But I'll do my duty..." he bends again, this time to whisper something in her ear...

On the Sands, A brief spat of rain pelts down. Big fat droplets, blown by a gust of wind, sting just as much as the ashes did, running down the dusty grey coloured eggs. Washing away the grey in rivulets, hints of eggshell color are visible for a moment or two. Then silt blows in, sticking to the wet pieces even thicker than before.

On the Sands, K'jan mutters to Tarianel, "Of... to... if... desire."

On the Sands,
     The Blinding Spectrum Egg cracks, slender fissures forming across the
     pasture and ruining the once perfect greenery. Fractures continue,
     racing down into the murky water of its surface, parting the way in
     anticipation of the Hatchling hidden inside. Finally it breaks open, the
     rainbow bisected into halves that act as a shield to the blowing ash but
     also a trap, as a blast of sand is captured and dumped across the
     Hatchling's hide before its color can be clearly seen. The Hatchling
     shakes its head and sneezes -- was it the sand or the adjustment
     required to breathing its first breaths of air?

On the Sands,

         An unfortunate stumble right out of the shell caused this Hatchling to be disguised amid a haze of sandy grains. Bits of shell form abstract patches of earthy hues -- the fragments stuck all over this grain-encrusted Hatchling to form a truly original couture creation. The sandy cloak in which it is enveloped hazes shapes into pale shadows of their true identity -- wing membranes and wing bones hard to resolve as separate objects, and even the juncture between shoulder and wing has become difficult to distinguish. In fact, this entire Hatchling is virtually unseen against the sands even as it stumbles and flounders as the sun catches the silica and causes the newest fashion to dazzle the viewers.

On the Sands, The Crackling Chaos Egg has dissolved behind the smokescreen of the haze. The rusts and sooty greys of the egg only become visible as the shattered fragments scatter up high from the pressure of the volatile blue that escapes. Impulsive, arrogant and presumptuous, the blue appears to be a bronzerider in disguise as he entangles his tail around the former stablehand. "Hey, now, Tyleth!" protests N'en. "Give me a chance to breathe, now what were you saying you wanted?"

Lacey passes a waterskin down to her daughter and company, mouthing. "I warned you .." Winking at Veyanne, she explains. "Girls her age always think they are right --- she'll be sure to blame me for her greed, just you watch."

On the Sands, Tarianel giggles, shaking her head, "If? I like this if" she replies back, stepping away for a moment so she can try and peer through the mess on the sands. "Besides, there's a lot of buttons and hooks."

On the Sands, Gwen takes a deep breath, and makes her way serenely out onto the sands to retrieve N'en. "This way dear. And Tyleth calm down. Both of you follow me." And off they go to the Weyrling barracks.

On the Sands, Amariss makes as if to nudge Evana and then points. "Look...I can see that one. Did you see it hatch? It was amazing. Look at it." She was awed.

On the Sands, What is that wobbly thing over there? Judging by the cracks and creaks coming from the vicinity, it's safe to say that a candidate isn't the source of the indistinct color and noise. When something squeals from amid a patch of smoke, the truth becomes clear: The black and white-shaded blur that was Still Life By Snow Egg has shattered, and another hatchling is on the loose. This particular little one wastes no time, hobbling in the direction of a group of female candidates standing nearby. It's one of these girls the dragonet chooses; Hildra of Southern Hold winds up on her rear in the sand, yelping in surprise and dismay at the unseen figure that has knocked her down. When she meets her lifemate's gaze however, irritation turns to elation. "Candath!" Only as the new pair are led away does Candath become visible as a startlingly lime green dragon.

Jazra stands for a moment, "Lacey, may I have one of those? Actually two, can't have a new face get thirsty right Taia?" She asks Lacey politely. "Looks like things are going fine down there."

Falgin peers out into the mucky canvas of the Sands, shaking his head "I can't see a th...oh, wait. Is that one there?" he points to a particularly sandy form just hatched. "Poor thing. It really is going to need a bath." Out of his tunic, he pulls a small sack and hands it to Lyani "Here you go - share them with your friends. Should keep you all from starving to death." Inside is an assortment of sweetballs, the kind you have to suck on quite a while.

Taia smiles up at Lacey though it only shows in the way her eyes squinch up further at the outer corners, she's careful to keep the hankie over her mouth and nose. "Oh..yes..thank you.." she says softly then coughs a little.

On the Sands, Amariss says, "Hildra...with a green! Congratulations!" She calls out as she leans forward and peers down the line. The pair is close enough to barely see a hint of its true color. She is pleased for the woman."

On the Sands, "Buttons, shmuttons. What do I care for those? I've got a knife." He pats his belt sheathe and the ornately engraved knife there. "It'll make quick work of any buttocks or hooks. No sense wasting time on such paltry things." His gaze moves to the amorphous forms of various hatchlings. "After 11 turns, they all start to look alike, you know." He muses, then laughs "No, not you, Nezanth. Never you. One of a kind, is what you are." A fond glance is given to the bronze up on the ledges.

Veyanne nods to Lacey. "Some of the children I'm helping teach right now are just at that age. You should have seen some of the ways they blamed me when they didn't impress Brenka's firelizards -- they said Chip scare the hatchlings away." Then she looks up warily, almost as if expecting the mean lizard to come just from his name being mentioned.

Servers continue to pass refreshments down the rows. Waterskins seem to be favoured over wineskins although the rotund holder grabs hold of two skins of wine and a whole tray of treats for himself. An assistant Headwoman mutters to another. "Lacey told us to watch him .. now see what he's got hold of?"

On the Sands, A candidate jumps back to avoid a charging dragonet, but slips, landing on his behind in the hot sand. He rolls to his knees in order to rise, but when he stands, back and front of the candidate robe are no longer white but patched with grey.

Sana looks at the hatching, and decides to try to find a better seat- maybe, with a decent angle, she's see them not covered in ash? She sighs, and smiles at two people she's now sitting near, offering the two a nod of greeting.

On the Sands, Waves of Heat Egg :gives a sudden shudder and seems to swell, expanding outward as if something inside just woke up. Unable to withstand such pressure, shell's surface giving way to myriad cracks and fissures. As suddenly as it started, the movement stops.

On the Sands, Evana nods at Amariss. "I'm more worried about that one... those two wandering around now, though." She tries to divide her attention between the two ash-covered blobs which haven't found their people yet.

Frowning slightly, Lacey shakes her head. "Jack, you know what the healers said about too much sweets for the children, I was discussing that with them when I met with them this /morning/ about /things/." Hint hint. Looking over at the sands, she sighs. "That is going to take a sevenday of sun bleaching to get white again."

On the Sands, The dark shell of the Virga Rain Egg falls into four large pieces like the petals of some dusky flower. In the centre, a dark spruce-green hatchling turns her head upwards towards the light. For a few moments, she seems to be listening, and then she raises herself carefully on unsteady legs and turns towards the candidates. Her progress is slow and hesitant, with frequent pauses as she checks each one she passes, but there's no sign of doubt once she reaches brown-eyed Jovita. She presses as close as she can to the young woman, who lowers her hands to caress the small green head. "Semakith," the new greenrider says in a wondering tone.

Taia looks up at Sana and nods her head, "Amazing isn't it.." she murmurs, then her gaze tilts down again, even if it's just a blur of sand and silt, it's the only hatching Taia's ever seen, just the feel of the event is exciting enough.

On the Sands, A steady trail of white smoke encompasses the galleries and the egg mound. A gust of wind lifts it away but greyish-yellow trails and tendrils of acidy, eye-watering smoke quickly replace it. Some can hear distant cries of the makeshift fire crew. "One more barrel of water dropped, G'nael and I think we got it..."

On the Sands, Amariss nods to Evana. "Oh look, another green. Was that Jovita?" Her gaze was searching as she took a step forward. The view was just the same...obscured.

On the Sands, "Come with me now," Juniper tells Jovita. "We'll get her some food, and you can both get cleaned up." She leads the girl and green from the sands, passing Regale on the way. "Can't say I'll be sorry to get /me/ a bath," Juniper tells the greenrider. "Let alone all the weyrlings."

On the Sands, Ashen Shadows Hatchling creels in some frustration when it can't readily find its rider. The hatchling pauses again. It never stands perfectly still - it is constantly moving one part of its body or another. The hatchling bobs its head for a moment and then lifts that to peer intently at the Candidates - now its tail is twitching, hitting the sand and ash with rhythmic thumps.

On the Sands, Amariss hears the muted thumps of a hatchling's tail as it beats the sand. "That one doesn't sound very pleased." Raising her voice she calls out to the candidate that encouraged her back in the barracks. "Lonzo? You doing okay? Can you see anything?"

Taia turns her head to stare at Jazra in pure wonder. "That's what it's like?" she asks. "I always wondered.. hard to imagine.." she says softly, then looks back down to the sands, grinning behind her hankie-veil.

On the Sands, Storm-filled Sky Egg apparently is in a rush! With lightning speed, and even more determination, this dragonet shakes off the last of its shell and fairly barrels across the sands towards its chosen lifemate, Isha. Several candidates leap out of the way just in time as impression is made. After picking herself off the ground, the new Weyrling blinks in surprise. "What on Pern do you mean, Sagenth? I don't need any sense knocked in me!"

Sana nods at Taia, "Yes, that it definitely is. You know anyone down there?"

Falgin gives Lacey an amused look "It's a special occasion, Luv. I don't think one little bag of sweetballs is going to rot their teeth. They'll brush them really well tonight, right?" He gives the children in question an expectant look for their agreement before smiling beautifucally at the Headwoman, and then at everyone around them "Am I right? One sweetball can't hurt at all." He squeezes Lacey's shoulder briefly, glancing down at her again "What other things were you discussing with the healers? Headache remedies for all the wine headaches tomorrow?"

On the Sands, Rain spatters, punctuating the stink and rifts of ash with tiny pits of wet paste. The pits slowly become depressions of paste, and after five minutes of big fat drops, the rain disappears, leaving paste behind where there was once thread ash. Soon, more ash blows in, caking on top of the paste on the grounds. The rain takes care of the acrid smell of burning organic matter for only a few minutes and as it returns in full force, brought in by a rogue breeze, a chorus of groans is heard across the sands and gallery.

On the Sands, Lonzo's face is streaked with rivers of ashy sweat and he starts to lift a hand to wipe at a drop that slides close to his eye, but remembers the black smeared across his palm and so drops his hand again. He glances over as he hears Amariss. "Barely, but I can see." He glances at the tail thumping hatchling with amusement. "Like some type of canine." He murmurs with a small chuckle that turns into a cough as he inhales some ash.

On the Sands, Evana turns toward the sound of the thumping tail. "Can you see where it is?" she asks Amariss. "I can't tell if it's heading this way or that."

Taia looks to Sana again, "I only know those I've just met today..here..no one down there..well Gwen.. I met her briefly before it started.." she says in answer. "I'm Taia, by the bye," she says in a warm, friendly tone. Her eyes flick to the couple and she chirps, "I say two is good, two a day!"

Lyani beams at her stepfather as she pops another sweet in her mouth. The row of giggling girls become an impromptu chorus. "He's the 'nice one' isn't he? He understands these things."

On the Sands, Roll, thud, crack! Destructive Sprite Egg is literally destroyed, warping and shifting in its hollow of sand until one entire side gives way from the strain. The hatchling that topples free and stands is too obscured by smoke for anyone to determine color, though several candidates it passes exchange murmurs that whatever it was, it was definitely dark. The dragonet ignores the nearest dozen hopefuls entirely, angling instead for a knot of burly young men standing slightly further away. It's the Minecrafter in the group the little one chooses, settling decisively at Taylan's feet and turning amethyst eyes to the brawny youth's face. "Ilcanth? You want me? Really?" T'lan looks utterly amazed as he bends to hug his lifemate, revealed in a moment of clear air as a large, teakwood brown.

On the Sands, Tarianel snorts, "Don't you bring a knife against me *ever*, K'jan, or you will find more than a problem on your hands. Besides, I like this dress, you don't?" Then she narrows her eyes, "Next time I'll wear a sack since you think they're all the same!"

Veyanne leans forward and asides to Lyani "Except he's going to make you brush your teeth tonight."

On the Sands, Regale moves out again, sneezing a few times into the crook of her arm "Isha why don't you bring Sagenth this way and we'll get you settled with the others off the sands." The greenrider gestures to the new pair to follow her before moving slowly to the side cavern where she lets another AWLM see them settled with food and oil before returning to the sands.

On the Sands, Gwen is there, beckoning to hatchling and rider. "T'lan, follow me. Oh my, Ilcanth is such a fine fellow. In here, we'll get you some food." She returns a few minutes later, satisfied.

On the Sands, Juniper turns her face up to the sky, enjoying the rain - while it lasts. She holds her hands out, letting the droplets wash ash from their backs - but it's over before it's made much of a difference.

On the Sands, My Coat is Sand Hatchling teeters among the remains of its former home, lifting a foot cautiously before setting it right back down again when it starts leaning dangerously to one side. With a mighty snort, clearing its snout of irritating sand, the cloaked hatchling takes a step and lands muzzle first in the sand. It's still for a moment, then back legs are working in unison. Adding even more sand to the already coated hatchling, the kicking motions propel it across the sand's surface, leaving a sandy trail in its wake.

On the Sands, Amariss coughs with disgust and lack of sudden air as she breaths in more ash. With her robe now clinging in a dripping mess to her thighs, she tugs at it and fidgets with the muck that coats her flesh, turning her nearly gray. Shaking her head in answer to Evana she catches her breath and replies. "I can't see a thing. Sorry. I'm glad you can see at least something Lonzo. Be careful." She warns.

On the Sands, Naltia glances sidelong at K'jan and Tarianel, and quickly turns her head away, her expression mixed. She focuses on Merilyth again.

On the Sands, Riders in the Sky Egg shatters, BAM! A long, lean, scrawny hatchling raises its head. A long ragged looking muzzle lets out the shrill cry of a troublemaker on the loose. Thrusting its wings outward with brute force and half unfurling its elongated sails behind it barrelling forwards. It misses its mark the first time, slips, skids, and does a well-executed U-turn. Sydemin, now Sy'di cries out in delight. Shaking away the ashes, "oh Sleinith, it's okay! That was absolutely awesome!" Sleinith bugles and shakes free the ashes, revealing a ragged, dusky blue with the faintest traces of silver and ice blue on his wingtips.

Lacey gives her daughter a /look/ and looks Veyanne's way as if she's found an ally. "Right, teeth brushing, now and before bed." She does turn back to the hapless one. "Fal, remember, you were concerned about me being so sleepy lately? Well, I did go to the healers, they said everything is just fine but I might need more naps, considering ... Oh ... look at that one! Isn't he gorgeous!"

On the Sands, K'jan draws Tarianel close again and gives her a very thorough kiss. Hatching? What hatching? "Sweetheart, you look beautiful in anything, even a sack, but particularly so when you're in your turnday suit and you know it. It's a lovely dress and I'll undo every button and hook very carefully, though I'm not sure you'll ever get that greasy ash out."

On the Sands, Juniper makes her way towards Sydemin. "He's a nice colour," she says approvingly. "I always like the silvery blues. Come on, we'll find him some food."

On the Sands, The arid stench of the smouldering, half-rotted foliage invades the clothing of candidates and riders alike. Up in the stands, spectators take out handkerchiefs to cover their noses but the smell is too persuasive. Still, the whispered reports that the fire is honestly and truly out, brings cheer to some.

On the Sands, Tarianel elbows K'jan hard, "Dignity, K'jan, maintain your dignity!" she retorts, stepping aside with a glance back to the Weyrleader. "If you have none, at least respect mine."

On the Sands,
     The Ashen Shadows Hatchling stops before one of the Candidates, halting
     in mid-step with a single foot raised off the ground. Its head turns to
     peer at the long, dark haired Candidate with dark brown eyes in careful
     consideration. The Hatchling warbles softly, tilting its head and
     turning more fully. Then it puts down that raised foot with a solid
     *thunk* and with a bugle of triumph wraps its tail around the girl it
     has chosen. For a moment, its identity remains hidden, but a gust of
     wind hurls sand at its hide and abrades away the ashy covering revealing
     a Verdant Spring Green Hatchling.

        Spring returns to the Southern hemisphere, budding growth brought to life and captured within the hide of this green hatchling. Flanks are dappled, like leaves caught in weak morning sunlight, while her headknobs and neckridges are darker, reminiscent of old growth that is thicker and offers a richer variegation. Her muzzle is sprinkled lightly with hemp, the mote-like particles dancing amid balsam hues as if pollen grains were released on a gentle wind. Ever-lengthening shadows cast fingerlets of deciduous color across her belly, interspersed by the richly verdant vines of legs rooted solidly in earth-shaded talons. Rukbat gleams brilliant emerald along her leading edges as muted sunlight shines through wings patterned with foliage, their delicate nature evocative of thin pieces of organza.

On the Sands, K'jan gives Tarianel an offended look, but lets her get away. "I have dignity. I just like kissing you more than looking like a stuffed shirt." If he sees Naltia's glance, he doesn't show it and instead moves to stand next to his Weyrsecond, giving him a clap on the shoulder "How you holding up there, S'am?"

Lowering the hankie at just the wrong time Taia draws a mouthful of hot, icy ash in place of a breath. She starts to cough and splutter then her cheeks go pink at the commotion she feels she is starting to cause and she motions to the stairs then waves, "MMnnn...'xcuse..me.." and she turns, scurrying out of sight.

On the Sands, Teeter, totter, bang! Sudden Warning Egg goes over in a shower of fragments, fully half the shell exploding away under the assault of the hatchling within. A triumphant if squeaky bugle follows, and seconds later, a large and ungainly form is off across the sands, red eyes glowing beacon like in the haze. It takes a circuit around an unsatisfactory knot of boys, a few sniffs at a trio of younger girls and a moment or two spent dealing with uncoordinated limbs before the little one finds its match. Bold, hard-working Dannya abruptly has a pair of violet eyes gazing into hers. "What the?! Jinnarth? Are you serious?" an amused snort from Dannya's dragon, revealed by shifting smoke for the most fleeting of moments as a fir tree green, confirms that she is indeed serious.

"Considering what?" Falgin is all alert now, and paying a /lot/ of attention. "Considering what, Lacey?" he squeezes her a bit to get her attention back. "You can't go and just say something like that and then stop. You aren't sick, are you? The healers didn't find anything wrong, right?" He gives an absent nod to Veyanne's words and a glance to the girls "Yes, you will /all/ be brushing your teeth." At the moment he's more worried than nice, and his attention is right back on Lacey. "Luv, spit it out. I don't like the suspense."

On the Sands, S'am pats Cazynth's neck as the brown bugles a welcome to each and every one of his offspring. At the question, he glances to K'jan with a smirk, wrinkling his nose. "Well, other than severely in need of a swim, I'm still standing." He chuckles to the weyrleader, passing a gaze towards the others before his attention goes right back to the eggs.

On the Sands, Tarianel doesn't deign K'jan with a look but instead moves closer to Naltia, giving her junior a sideways glance, "How you holding up? Don't forget to drink some water, or you'll have an even worse headache later."

On the Sands, Naltia nods, absently lifting the skin to her lips and taking a drink. "I'm fine," she says, "Merilyth's finally resigned to them impressing, I think." She pauses, "Wish K'led were here," she murmurs softly to her Senior, glancing sidelong at K'jan.

On the Sands, Sunny Day at the Beach Egg stumbles out of it shell and looks up towards the sky, creeling in confusion. An all over body shake sends a fine dusting of silt flying and once again, the hatchling trills in utter confusion. There must be an explanation for all this and the wee one is determined to find it. Perhaps some of those damp and dirty things huddled in a semi-circle can help. Stopping at the first lass, the bright mint green croons her query. "I don't know, Taibeith, I'm sort of new around here too, they do things a lot differently here at Southern than back home. Maybe I can ask someone else...." When it dawns on Chella just to whom she is talking to, the girl breaks into tears of joy, hugging her poor confused lifemate.

On the Sands, "Well, more time for fishing after this, at any rate." K'jan tells S'am with a grin. "Cazynth seems pleased with himself, at any rate."

Two can play the dense game and Lacey peers down at the sands, suddenly very interested. Lovely green, that.." Oh so casually, she leans back in her bench, snuggling closer to Falgin as she takes another nibble of her meatroll.

On the Sands, Tarianel nods, "That's never an easy thing" she mentions to Naltia, "But it is very important you look after yourself nevertheless." A glance to the gold and a grin, shows that something went on between her and her lifemate, nothing more.

Lacey mutters to Falgin, "... worry, it'll be fine, although... more... in... and... you, given... Par... course."

On the Sands, Amariss says, "Ugh...what is that stench?" She covers her mouth with a soot covered hand and glances over to Evana to see what her reaction to it would be. "Yuck. Did I hear that the-....Oh!" She was shocked to say the least. With a heartbeat skipped and a breath caught deep, awe and delight came soon after. Opening her heart fully to the little one before her she smiled softly, lovingly and said, "We will always be together you and I. And yes I am very proud of you! Lets get you some food." She chuckles with the wonder of it all and then calls out clearly so her friends might hear, "Ive been chosen by Green, Myalith!"

Sana nods, "I'm Sana, Blue Kiroth's." She grins about the sweet balls, and eyes the sands asking, "Do you know how many eggs have hatched yet? I know there were twenty nine at the beginning, but I can't really tell how many are left... 25?" Then, the Ash leaves one hatching just as said little green Impresses, and she calls congratulations to said green's new rider, "Congrats on finding each other, Amariss, Myalith!"

On the Sands, Myalith arches her neck proudly, gently nudging her rider lovingly. She shifts her body and creels urgently for food, pressing close to Amariss' side.

On the Sands, The paste of ashes, fine dust and soot slicks the sand and inches up the legs of hatchling and candidate alike. Briefly clearing the vision of some, the cleansing rain churns a new hazard onto the sands. Patches of ash mixed with sand, resulting in a lack of traction, slick, sticky and slippery.

On the Sands, Evana looks startled as the green suddenly materializes right next to her... and then impresses to the person right next to her. With a wry smile, she says "Congratulations, Amariss. Myalith is beautiful."

On the Sands, Regale watches as the green finally shows her colors and in turn finds her lifemate. "Good choice that one has made." Step by step the greenrider moves out onto the sands, waving a hand towards Amariss, "How about you bring Myalith this way and we'll get you both somewhere quieter and where you can feed and get to her know her better." Regale waits with a grin then once the pairs attention is gotten and her words heard she makes for the side cavern."

On the Sands, Lonzo is busy watching some of the hatchings running around and impressing, but then he hears a familiar voice. He steps out of line some to look over at Amariss and her new dragon. He raises a hand and gives a short whoop of sound. "Congratulations Amariss!"

Falgin sends a glare towards Lacey "Wife, if you don't answer me right now..." He blinks as she whispers something to him, a frown appearing "Seven months? Why in seve....Oh. OH!!" Falgin suddenly lets out a shout and pulls Lacey onto his lap, kissing her thoroughly "Luv, why didn't you tell me? Does Lyani know? Wait. You're alright? Not sick?" He's suddenly treating the headwoman like she's made of glass.

On the Sands, With a shimmy, Subzero Nocturne Egg escapes the confines of grey sooty ashes, revealing its glistening white and deep purples. Much like lightning flashes across the night sky, a fissure cracks along the egg's surface. Impatient, the former inhabitant scrambles forth, stumbling across the sands until he flops at the feet of the former fisherman. Chuckling softly, D'an caresses his lifemate's snout. "Well Brisanth, it's not often a big catch jumps in the boat but then again, I've always been lucky with what I reeled in!"

On the Sands, S'am nods agreeably to K'jan "Sounds like a plan, unless you pile me under more of those hide reports..." One can almost hear 'sir' at the end of the sentence as S'am smirks to his Weyrleader.

On the Sands, Waves of Heat Egg swells again, creating the cracks and fissures already marring the perfect clarity of its cerulean surface to lengthen, become more visible, as a gentle rocking motion begins. The rocking is slow, steady, but seems to build with each passing moment, the puffs of white that scatter over the blue shell beginning to drift.

Veyanne catches Falgin's reaction, if not the whisper, and is suddenly beaming at Lacey. "Oh, congratulations! And so soon after the wedding, too. I bet your parents will be so proud!"

On the Sands, Gwen takes a deep breath, "Aaaah, I could see that one coming! Good for you Ama!" She cheers, watching Regale lead Amariss away. "Naltia this is turning out wonderfully." She compliments the other. "Things seem to be running smoothly despite the.... miasma we have on the grounds today." She says with a chuckle.

On the Sands, Amariss says, "Come on my love. Lets get you fed and cleaned up." Her adoring look was added to by a soft caress as she led Myalith in the direction Regale had indicated."

On the Sands, K'jan's gaze goes briefly to Tarianel, then to Naltia - perhaps he heard her murmured comment. "Yes, well. Hidework can't be helped I'm afraid. We both have to do it. Comes with the territory. Better than mucking out the jakes, though, isn't it?"

Lacey giggle and protests as she's kissed and tossed on a lap. "I'm fine, she doesn't know, I barely got out of the infirmary before the eggs began rocking in earnest and I'm doing /fine/ honestly." She catches Veyanne's congratulations and chuckles wryly. "Well, they'd be proud if they knew, hard to send word back 200 turns though. Oh!! Was that another laundry worker I just lost? And with all this muck?"

On the Sands, My Coat is Sand Hatchling makes very slow progress across the sands for a couple of feet before an annoyed creel prompts the mound of sand to rise up, flapping wings awkwardly. It leans this way and that, lowering it's head as if trying to get itself centered. When the walking thing seems to have been conquered, the sand hatchling turns it's attention towards the first order of business. Those odd looking white things need inspecting.

On the Sands, Naltia smiles thinly at Gwen, "Thank you, Gwen. It really is. I'll be glad when it's over, though." She looks at K'jan, puzzled, "Hidework? No, it can't be helped. I enjoy it, though..." Did she miss some thread of the conversation?

Falgin keeps Lacey firmly planted in his lap, arms around her protectively, and sends a beaming smile Vey-ward. "Thank you. I tried my best." is said with smug satisfaction before he glances cautiously at Lyani. "Well, don't you think we should tell her?" is wondered, kissing Lacey's hair and never mind the fact they are Headwoman and Steward of the weyr - at the moment they're man and wife and baby. "You'll take it easy, won't you." And that seems to be a statement of fact, not a request.

On the Sands, Evana sees the mound of sand rear up of its own accord and turns to watch its progress. Very softly she murmurs "Come on, come on, pick me."

On the Sands, Flakes of shell begin to drop from the Eternal Drought Egg as its occupant batters it steadily from within, then small forelegs appear, followed by a pale green muzzle. She is weary now, and rests before tearing the remainder of the shell aside and pulling herself onto the hot sand. After lying flat for a long minute, she makes her way towards the candidates on wobbly legs, but her uncertain creels develop new confidence when she spots a freckly redhead, one of the youngest girls on the Sands. Murian has a new best friend now - her Izilanth.

On the Sands, Tarianel wrinkles her nose at Naltia, "Then I should give you more because I certainly don't enjoy it. There are more important things in life than doing hidework." She glances to K'jan and grins, "Don't you agree? Oh, and I don't mean fishing!"

Jazra moves over to Veyanne with Taia gone, then she hears the bit from Lacey. "Congrats miss Lacey! Oh I'm sure they would be. I came forwards too, my parents are glassmiths, or they were. I'd have loved to take Liaoth to meet them, so I know what that's like. oh.... I'm Jazra, a transfer from Ierne. My green, Liaoth is up in the galleries, complaining of ash and tittering over the hatchlings in the same mind breath."

On the Sands, Naltia sighs as Tarianel looks over at K'jan - clearly the love of her life - and Naltia looks...down at the Weyrling gifts. The journals are stacked neatly beside her. She sighs and picks one up and begins writing in it.

On the Sands, K'jan laughs, shaking his head at Naltia "My apologies. I was torturing S'am, not you." He glances at said Weyrsecond as he adds "He was complaining about the hidework, after all." His gaze locks with Tarianel and he smiles, an intimate twist of his lips "I do agree indeed." If Tari wasn't warmed by the sands before, she should be after /that/ particular look.

Lacey is quite content to stay on Falgin's lap, given the fact the rotund holder snuck back the moment she was displaced. "Of course I'll take it easy." Uh-huh. "And I'll tell Lyani later, she's so ....peaceful right now." Glancing over at the girls, she whispers to her husband. "The sweetener rush is keeping them occupied." Resting her head against his shoulder, she sighs happily. "Yes, dear, your worked very very hard. Good job."

On the Sands, Naltia winces at K'jan and continues writing, her stylus moving quickly, but with precision.

On the Sands, Gwen hurries to lead Murian away to the barracks and then hears Tarianel's comment about hidework. Then she smiles. "I'm sure there are." She chuckles. "Don't worry Naltia, if you need to stretch your legs, you can come practice pugil with me. I do it twice a week after I give classes." She promises. "And now that the eggs have hatched, I'm sure you could use the break? right?"

On the Sands, Lonzo watches Amariss' progress off with a big grin. He shakes his head in wonder before looking over at Evana. But then something in the Galleries catches his attention and he half turns to look up there. His expression curious at the commotion up there. He huhs softly and slowly turns back to the eggs which seem to be slowly diminishing in numbers. The man seems to be relaxing more at each egg.

On the Sands, Ash and rain collide, and it's not just a spatter of droplets coming down, but also a spatter of foul smelling firestone ash paste. Candidates' cries of dismay and disgust mingle with the creels of young dragons that are less than pleased with the new world they have been forced to join.

Falgin smiles at Jazra as she comes to sit nearby, holding Lacey firmly. "Welcome then, and thank you rider. Glad to have you at Southern. We can always use greens, or so says our Weyrleader." His glance goes to Lyani and he nods "Later is better. Before she brushes her teeth or after, though?" is mused aloud.

On the Sands, Foreboding Smoke Egg tumbles and cracks its way over two nearby eggs, a layer of ash and sand rolling ahead, much like a mini avalanche. As the shell gives way, a surprisingly waif-like and delicate green weaves back and forth on unsteady legs. With a graceful flitter of her wings, the little hatchling dances across the sand, stopping long enough to steady herself a few feet before Zenev. Her adoring eyes capture the heart of Z'ev forever, who chuckles softly. "Of course, of course. Honestly, I'm not that special, really. I think it's my cologne."

On the Sands, S'am snorts at K'jan. "When have you ever heard me complain about anything. Was just making an observation is all." S'am chuckles to the bronzerider as Cazynth bugles a greeting to his newest offspring. The brown weaving his head to and fro as his weight shifts from one foot to the other.

On the Sands, A flurry of shards mixes with a dusting of muck and silt and Triple Threat Egg seemingly dissolves - leaving a hatchling to rise from the ashes. Its fledgling steps are rudely interrupted by a trip and a fall over a shell. The resulting struggles to rise to its feet results in a hide encased in filth. Not until the petite hatchling nudges its head against Sheeza's chest does enough soot wipe off to reveal the spring green shadings of this beauty. Sheeza's belly laugh rings across the bowl. "Me? Lryasenth! Well, well. Wait until you meet the family. I suppose we'd better get you cleaned up first."

On the Sands, Juniper is in constant motion now - she returns from taking one weyrling pair to the side cavern, and heads straight back with another. She's starting to look rather hot, which is hardly surprising.

On the Sands, Feathery Frosted Egg's entrance is subtle, cracks shuddering up beneath the build up of ashes on its surface. It breaks, collapsing under the weight. There's a pause, a shiver, and a delicate head pokes up from beneath the remains. The hatchling slowly gets to its feet, then shivers. Perfectly proportioned, but larger than most. Squinting left and right for any sign of candidates, it cautiously stalks its way among the breaking eggs, trumpeting brothers and sisters, and ash covered, white robed candidates. It sits back on its haunches for a moment, then gets down low and creeps forwards. Rosniell doesn't see the hatchling's approach, and jumps about a mile when a tail wraps around her ankles. Wings wrap around her from behind and the startled candidate whirls around. "Yes, yes I'm yours Fenifeth." The deep mossy green, with the faintest hint of the northern lights on her powerful wingsails and curvy frame, hums in quiet delight and follows her new rider and the weyrlingstaff off the hatching grounds.

Child radar is on full bore as Lyani gazes upon her mother with suspicion. "She'd never let Falgin pull her on his lap like that, not at a hatching. Somethin's up. Maybe she's dying. She was at the healers..." Her mind starts racing as she tells her friends. "She poked her self with a thorn yesterday, maybe it's a poison thorn and she's going to die a sloooooooooow painful death." She pauses just as Sheeza impresses."Hey, I know her, she's nice!"

On the Sands, K'jan just looks smug, as if he knows something no one else does, reluctantly glancing away from Tarianel to reply to S'am "What? Oh. Right. I know you never complain. It's positively terrifying. I'm sure you're just saving it all up to explode later." He grins at the Weyrsecond, then is back to watching Tarianel as if she were a particularly delectable bubbly pie and he's starving.

Jazra spots Rosniell's impression and sighs. "aaah, to be young again." Then she turns back to Lacey. "Ooooh, I wouldn't mind a kid of my own, someday. My brother R'zelen, his weyrmate Triana has two. I'm jealous."

On the Sands,
     The interminable rocking of Waves of Heat Egg has risen to such a
     height that the drifting puffs of white across the cerulean surface
     appear as clouds drifting across a summer's sky, moving faster and
     faster as the ovoid gyrates with the internal forces stressing the egg's
     integrity. Finally, unable to withstand the constant pressure on its
     brittle surface, the cracks and fissures that had looked no more than
     jagged streaks of lightning, explode suddenly in a furious eruption of
     brilliantly blue shards that sail through the air to land some distance
     away, leaving an egg-covered hatchling huddled in the eye of the storm.

On the Sands,

        If at one time this Hatchling was covered only with egg yolk, the gusting winds have ensured this is no longer so. Sooty cinders and ashy particles have pasted themselves to practically every inch of hide like papier-mache glued to a balloon, hiding its true form and color from view. Where cinereous sediment does not coat its body, bits and pieces of detritus plant themselves with every paroxysm of breeze. If this were not enough, odiferous wafts of blackened smoke curl around its flanks and haunches, rendering its form even more unrecognizable and casting a pall on any identification beyond a vaguely discernible shape and size.

On the Sands, Already dark and smoky, the markings of the Unlikely Dance Partners egg are almost obscured by the ash that's fallen on it, even in the short time since its dam last licked it clean. The shell makes a dark contrast to the almost lurid cobalt hatchling that pushes his way through a small but widening hole to land protesting vigorously on the hot Sands. He is keen to be off. Head turns jerkily this way and that, then lifts, motionless, while his target is located, but only for a second, then he's bouncing across the sands towards Fodro from Keroon. The former cotholder - now to be known as F'dro - steps forward to meet his new partner, saying, "Yes, Voilith, I know you're coming - and here you are!"

On the Sands, My Coat is Sand Hatchling eyes the white figures, well, off white now, and scrutinizes each in turn. Not judging any of this batch as worthy, something almost shiny catches it's attention. What's this? Uncertain steps veer away from those already judged and moves to give those others a good looking over. Movement a little ways off catches it's attention and so it's that way we go, one figure in particular deserving a more in depth looking over.

On the Sands, Four candidates bunch together, shifting between the heat of the sands and the discomfort of cooling rain and horrible stink. They push the littlest of the four into the middle, partially protecting him and keeping a lookout for danger.

On the Sands, Gwen promptly leads Voilith and F'dro to the barracks. "There's food already there for you." She fares a quick glance at the remaining eggs and hatchlings to make sure all is well before taking F'dro to the barracks.

Lacey shifts as if to move from her more comfortable seat back to the bench but jumps back as she half sits on the holder. Blushing red, she apologizes to the man but smiles her greeting to Jazra."Seen you around of course, welcome to the weyr. You never know what good things lay in store, I never thought Lyani'd have another brother or sister and now....?"

On the Sands, The Twisted Darkness Egg rolls back and forth, wedging itself between two other eggs, burrowing in the hot mess of sand and firestone ash, and with a mighty crack splits right apart. With a deliberate shake of its head, the remains of shell fall away, allowing the thoughtful one to regard the Candidates cluster by cluster. A trio of girls deserves a second look and with a derisive snort, Marlianne is sucker-punched by a sharp head butt and pushed into a puddle of soot and ash. One of the others belongs. But which one? There she is the one who needs guidance and a good role model. With a gentle nudge and a croon, blue Shaenyth reassures young Missy that he will steer her true.

On the Sands, Lonzo belatedly realizes that one of Marlianne's cling-ons has disappeared. He looks around and catches a glance of the girl disappearing with her new lifemate. He smiles thoughtfully and glances back at Marlianne, but the girl isn't show anything but haughty snobbery. There is a sound from the candidates and he looks over at the hatching that's working his way over to a group in earnest.

On the Sands, Cinereous Sediment Hatchling takes its first steps into the world with surprisingly graceful movement - its so small, it seems to skim over the Sands towards the white-robed forms as if it knows exactly what it wants. The hatchling pauses only occasionally to try to flick off some of the muck coating its form, though without any degree of success. Then it's back to nudging a candidate here, poking a candidate there and inspecting every inch of the sands in search of...something.

On the Sands, The girls of the Weyr may not be totally taken with candidate Wulor, but the angular dragonet that reduces Where's the Weyr Egg to a heap of fragments can't wait to meet him. After his frenzied struggle to free himself from the shell, the newly hatched blue speeds across the Sands, looking as if he's already picked his rider. W'lor is soon calling to one of the Weyrlingmasters, "Can you help us? Attoth's hungry."

On the Sands, Juniper returns, but there's only time to exchange a few words with F'sord before both of them heading out again in the company of Shaeynth and Missy, Attoth and W'lor.

On the Sands, The glorious colours of the Painted Sky Egg are marred by cracks and tears as a chunky brown hatchling fights his way to freedom. With sticky shards still clinging to his hide, he begins the long trudge across the Sands, passing candidate after candidate without a glimmer of interest. He passes Lyirzan, too, but then glances back and gives the short sixteen-turn-old another longer look before retracing his steps and then going to nudge at the boy's legs. L'zan breaks into a beatific smile as he impresses his friend for life, Okiath.

"And now, she's going to have at least half a dozen, isn't that right Luv?" Falgin grins "I plan to practice a lot, in between." The pudgy holder gets a decidedly unfriendly look as he starts to berate Lacey and as the steward tucks his wife more firmly on his lap, the corpulent visitor turns beet red and returns his attention to the hatching, lips clamped shut against any further abuse to Lacey's form.

On the Sands, Tarianel watches Naltia for a moment, "I'm surprised you can do that with the amount of stuff falling from the sky, luckily the way Merilyth is standing shields you from some of it." She takes a step forward, flashing a smile at S'am, and then a quick glance to K'jan before eyes flicker back to S'am -- too dangerous to look for long. "Did you drink some water, S'am?" she asks.

On the Sands, Evana watches as the sandy-coated hatchling moves, holding her breath. She barely even notices the other impressions, sort of waving vaguely toward the voices as they say their lifemates' names, not even looking.

On the Sands, Naltia glances up at Tarianel, her expression void, "What other choice do I have?" she asks, flicking a stray bit of ash from the page before setting that journal aside and picking up another one.

On the Sands, Gwen keeps a sharp lookout over the sands, watching each hatchling carefully. "Looks like all is well. Does it look like Marlianne will need a healer?" She asks worriedly. But she has no time to hear the answer, L'zan needs to get to the barracks.

On the Sands, The shell of the Staggering Style Egg is already an explosion of colour, but now it seems literally to burst open, shattered by impacts from within. Under a rain of shards, a stocky pea-green hatchling takes her first look at the world. She marches proudly towards the candidates, looking down her muzzle at several of the boys before giving a longer inspection to plump Quaera from Ierne. That's the one. She moves forward to claim her rider. Quaera's plain face is face is transformed by a smile. "Of course there's food, Gilyath - let's see if we can find it."

On the Sands, K'jan smiles as Tarianel moves closer, and he holds out his hand to her - but leaves it up to her to take it. A brow raises to Naltia's response to the weyrwoman's comment and he leans forward to murmur something to the goldrider.

Lyani puts two and two together and squeals. "She's knocked up? OH shells and shards, I'm going to be a sister!?!"

On the Sands, K'jan mutters to Tarianel, "Is... her... attitude?... it extremely... she... come out negatively."

On the Sands, Naltia shoots K'jan a brief glare. Then it's back to penning in the journals, grumbling to herself.

On the Sands,
     Kicking up as much sand as covers its hide, My Coat is a Sand Hatchling
     flounders as it finally learns the dos and don't's of that silly walking
     thing. Once it can stay upright, and that seems to have taken quite some
     time, the search continues. It investigates the final row of those tall
     whitish things -- a curious look at one, a prod to the arm to make
     another boy look, even a step on a toe. Wait. The Hatchling backtracks
     and examines the poor lad on whose toe it's stepping -- there he is,
     silly thing! A few seconds later, it topples forward, landing at the
     feet of this young man who has red hair cropped so close to his scalp
     it's almost absent. As it lands, the slight impact knocks a chink in the
     sandy armor that was cloaking its true identity and reveals the Olympic
     Sunset Bronze Hatchling's hide.

         Vivid cinnamon flecks scatter across a tranquil pool of amber-hued seafoam, drifting like tidal currents along the hide of this bronze hatchling. The dark patina of his flanks enhances an illusion of ripples while a shimmering nimbus crosses his shoulders, created by a light dusting of sprinkled nuggets. Laurel leaves have been wrought into bronze, their glossy hue still evident within the crown that gleams atop his head, echoed in the gilt-tipped 'ridges but consumed at tail's curve where polished walnut stretches away from his body like a long paddle. Whiskey splashes against his chest, the celebratory hues burnishing his belly only to be stopped by the coppery banding on his legs and night-dark talons. Molten bronze gilds pinions, radiating out over wingbones to become reminiscent of a hidden star, the darkened skies of his wings never eclipsed by this intrinsic light.

On the Sands, Tarianel flickers her fingers at the Junior Weyrwoman, "It was your choice to write in each of them Naltia, no one asked you to do that." She peers over, "What are you writing anyway?" she asks as she takes K'jan's hand in her own and then replies to him, "Yes, it's normal, it's fine."

On the Sands, Naltia looks up and nods at Tarianel, "I know that, and I want to write in them. I just meant that I can't very well take them somewhere else to do them. I have to do them here, and just deal with the ash and rain and everything else."

Lacey only chuckles and nods sagely. "Right, practice makes /perfect/ after all, always room for improvement?" She softly nuzzles her husbands neck then presses in against his shoulder to hide as she realizes the word has gotten out to her daughter. "Oh fardlin' shards.."

On the Sands, The bugle of a late arriving dragon cuts the air, and only the dragon's uncanny sense of airspace shows the blue above where to go. The elderly rider hunkers down next to his lifemate and as his own hearing is not the best, his opinion is loudly broadcast. "Better view, fewer crowds. Perfect spot Vinreth."

Veyanne finishes taking a very long drink from her waterskin, then nods to Jazra. "Ooooh, Quaera got a... green?" She beams at the former Ierne refugee.

On the Sands, K'jan squeezes Tari's hand and nods to her "Alright, then." He says, then sends a smile towards Naltia, attempting friendliness "I'm sure the new weyrlings will be pleased by your personal attention, Naltia." He says, his own curiosity raised "Can I see one?"

Jazra smiles warmly, which turns into a grin at Lacey's exclamation. "Poor you miss Lacey." She chuckles. "Liaoth is checking. Ooh, she says yes, Quaera got a green." She supplies. "If you can't tell, ask me, Liaoth can keep a mental eye on what's happening on the sands." She offers.

On the Sands, S'am looks to Tarianel and grins as he pats his belt, then frowns as he looks down, then turns a circle, peering down tot he sands "I thought I had a skin, must have forgotten it in the rush to get here." The brownrider chuckles a little, then swipes at his dirty, sweaty face as another impression is made. "Don't worry, I'll drain a few juice skins soon."

On the Sands, Naltia nods, "I'm just trying to pass on what advice I can give," she says, lifting a recently finished journal from the pile and handing it up to the Weyrleader. She hesitates very briefly before pressing it into his hands. Oh well, he'll hear about her closing bit of advice soon enough. Since she's adding that to every single solitary letter.

On the Sands, The shimmer of the Dewdrop Clouds Egg begins to vibrate. The egg begins to shatter, falling to the sands with a puff of ash. A heartily built hatchling shakes itself out, loosening up its muscles before moving down the line. A twitter of glee and the hatchling finds itself nose to nose with Sonrah. Eyes turn from red to blue, and the dusky shamrock green enfolds the woman in her wings, curling tail about her ankles and resting her head on the former teacher's shoulder. "Yes, Belilith, I'm Sonrah, my beautiful Belilith. I'll feed you. Come on... there has to be food somewhere. Follow me." She says firmly and leads Belilith away.

On the Sands, Tarianel leans around K'jan and grabs a water skin from the table, "There's a whole pile here, and food, S'am. No one's touched the food, and I did cover it with a napkin so it wouldn't get nasty!"

On the Sands, Gwen proudly leads Sonrah to the Weyrling barracks and returns, watching the hatching silently. Then her stomach rumbles. "Can I grab some?" SHe asks Tarianel. "My stomach is starting to growl."

"Well, it's not the term I'd use" Falgin says to Jazra, then grins at his wife "She's got her mother's smarts, what did you expect?" His glance goes to Lyani "Your mother is pregnant, yes. What do you think about it? Do you wish a little sister? Or brother?"

On the Sands, For what seems an eternity but in actuality is only a brief moment, the air erupts into complete chaos. A strong gust of stinking ashes comes in from one side, Rain pelts down from above, and the result is a two-pronged assault on the sands and the stands. When the wind settles, it is clear the numbers on the sands are dwindling. The overseers of the candidates urge stragglers to move closer together so as not to be so lonely.

On the Sands, K'jan opens the journal and reads the inscription. His eyes tighten, though it's hard to tell whether he's about to laugh or blow up. A cough of sound, and he closes the book and hands it back to Naltia "Very nice, weyrwoman. And incredibly sensible advice, as well."

On the Sands, Lonzo hears a shriek of surprise from Marlianne as she goes done into the puddle. Holding up dripping arms she glares at the hatchling, while the candidates around her giggle, snicker, and even a whoop of joy. Lonzo himself has to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, his shoulders shake from the contained mirth. But even if he doesn't like her, he does move to offer her a hand. "You okay Marli?" He manages to say without laughing. She starts to reach for it, when it's suddenly withdrawn as something pulls his attention. He feels something trod his foot and he looks down. There is a blink from L'nzo and he crouches down to get eye to eye with this BRONZE!? hatchling. "So that's what it's like." A smile spreads across his face. "I /am/ your's Oshanth." He reaches up to rub a hand over his shaved skull and chuckles. "It's a long story buddy. How about I tell you about it while we feed ya."

On the Sands, Juniper points F'sord towards Quaera and Gilyath before turning her own steps towards the bronze and his new partner. "He's a splendid-looking bronze," she tells L'nzo. "Congratulations. Come with me now: we'll get him some food."

On the Sands, Evana is still watching the hatchling when his color is revealed, and she deflates as she exhales. "I guess you couldn't have picked me, could you have?" Then she notices who the bronze did pick and perks up. "Congratulations!" she calls out to the gentle giant. And now, she turns to the form of another soot-encrusted hatchling as it wanders the sands.

On the Sands, Naltia looks up at K'jan, her expression guarded before she gives a curt nod, setting the journal back on the pile. It's hard to tell if she's about to laugh, or run.

Lyani shrugs, wide-eyed. "What? It's not rude. I know real rude words, I go out fishing with my cousin Z'vin and he gets real mad sometimes .." She keeps an eye on her mother though, waiting.

On the Sands, Tarianel glances curiously to K'jan, then Naltia, shrugs and goes back to watching the hatchings. It's safer!

On the Sands, Cinereous Sediment Hatchling continues to search here, there and everywhere. A picky little thing it would seem, this hatchling doesn't seem to find what it wants quickly but is taking its time, peeking beneath the hem of a candidate, tilting its head quizzically near another little cluster of white-robed figures. But ever onward it goes, skimming over the sands with definite purpose, even if it doesn't seem to know exactly what that purpose is.

On the Sands, Gwen cheers at L'nzo's impression. "Well done Lon.... I mean L'nzo." She smirks. "I knew you could do it." Then whispers impishly to K'jan and Tarianel. "I had marks on him. Looks like I get enough to replace my over jacket. Its covered in ashes and I don't think they're coming off."

Sana still simply sits in the corner, watching the hatchlings, eggs, candidates, and new weyrlings.

On the Sands, K'jan's lips twitch as he releases Tarianel's hand, so he can instead wrap an arm around her waist. He leans in, whispering something to her, as a grin spreads over his face.

Veyanne ooohs. "Isn't the one who just impressed the bronze the one who kept having adventures with ashes in the hearths? Talk about an appropriate day to impress!"

On the Sands, Parched Pern Egg wiggles juuuust a little bit. Then wiggles juuuust a little bit more, and then that's enough wiggling as a long, gawky head bursts out. A 'cawr' sound comes from the hatchling's throat, before it pushes all the way out, like a feline slipping under a door flap. The scraggly lean hatchling saunters left, it saunters right, it nuzzles a girl experimentally then snorts, nope, not her. Then it catches sight of a tall, muscular fellow and croons melodically. The hatchling darts forwards and shakes off its scrawny, stretched out frame before bending a skinny neck to nuzzle Jandere. A soft creel and the brilliant caramel and honey bronze becomes glazed with a soft patter of rain. "Yeah, Ja'dre sounds nice. Ja'dre and Tualeth."

On the Sands, Tarianel giggles at K'jan's comment, nodding and whispering something back.

Jazra smacks a hand over her forehead and wisely says nothing. "Looks like its flying by Veyanne. I hear L'nzo was pretty popular." She adds. "Adventures? What adventures?" Asks Jazra with a frown.

On the Sands, Oshanth warbles to L'nzo and tries to turn, though, his oversized feet work against him as he tumbles to the sand yet again at L'nzo's feet.

On the Sands, L'nzo looks up as he realizes there are more voices then the one in his head. "Huh? Oh!" He reaches out the rub the bronzes' eyes ridge before standing. "Lead the way. I swear I can feel how hungry he is." A rather dazed L'nzo heads towards the barracks leaving a dumbfounded Marlianne to steep in her puddle.

Lacey laughs as she realizes. "Yes, Veyanne, good memory. He's just about as grimy as he always is on hearth duties, Veyanne." She scoots a little to the left, making sure no part of her is /near/ the holder but her attention is over on her daughter, smiling reassuringly. "We'll talk later, sweetie?"

On the Sands, Gwen watches the hatching all but fly by, she escorts weyrlings when she needs to and returns, nibbling on some of the finger foods available, but always vigilant on the hatchlings and sands. "I never get tired of these."

On the Sands, Evana watches almost hungrily as the small soot-covered form searches. She doesn't chant this time, but even those impressing around her no longer receive any attention when they call out names.

On the Sands, Cinereous Sediment Hatchling makes another zigzagging patch to and fro across the sands and now there's an element of frustration in its movements. It pauses momentarily to creel at the brown and gold hovering on the Sands with it, as if asking a question, but doesn't wait around for the answer. Again the hatchling is off, rubbing against a large fragment of egg as if trying to get the hardening muck off its body, before making another foray into the white-robed figures. It's got to be there somewhere, this thing it needs to fulfill the growing ache inside.

On the Sands, Gwen frowns at the sediment hatchling's attempts to find its lifemate. "Oh dear, looks like somebody can't make up its mind." She frowns. "This could end badly." She shakes her head.

On the Sands, K'jan raises a brow at Tarianel "Do you really? I'll be sure to remember that later, shall I?" he says with a grin, tightening the arm around her waist as he watches the little hatchling zip by "Tiny little thing, that one." He muses. "But fast. Wish it would hurry up and find what it wants, though. I'm starving."

On the Sands, Naltia looks up sharply at Gwen's comment, "You mean not find who its looking for? Go between?" She pales, journals forgotten for a moment.

Veyanne blinks as she watches the sedimentary hatchling scooting around. "Hasn't it already looked at everyone once?" she asks, perhaps rhetorically.

On the Sands, Evana doesn't stop tracking the little lost one. "It's small, like me." she says to the candidate next to her. "Maybe..."

On the Sands, Tarianel grins at K'jan, "Oh, I'm fairly sure you won't forget ever, but if you do we can always ask Naltia to remind you so you don't." Her hand rubs down K'jan's back, "And if that doesn't work, I'll remind you."

On the Sands, Gwen grits her teeth. "I hope not." She bites her lip hard enough to draw blood. "Lets cross our fingers. It may just be it, he, she whoever color it is can't see where they're going." She says in concern.

"We'll all talk about it later," Falgin agrees, his eyes going to the zipping figure on the sands. "That's a hatchling, right? Not a firelizard?" He's joking, of course. "Why's it taking so long?"

On the Sands, S'am seems to be edging towards the water skin and takes one in hand. Turning it up, he tilts his head to keep an eye on the sands while trying to empty the skin in one go. Swiping at his face with the back of his arm, the brownrider holds out the half empty skin "anyone need a sip?" This to Naltia and the others nearest him as more pairs are led away.

Lyani ignores her mother, then her stepfather - a stubborn frown appearing. Deliberately turning away, she looks at the sands. "Look!" She calls out. "Evana's not impressed yet. And look, there's that brat from Ista who pushed Hebby in the dirt. Lots of them still down there, not very more eggs though.."

On the Sands, K'jan frowns a bit "It does seem to be taking it's time. I don't think it'll go between, Naltia." He adds reassuringly "Just being picky. It happens sometimes." He sends a smile to Tarianel "I'd prefer you remind me anyway."

Jazra nods. "Yes, it has. Could be a bronze maybe? A picky one that wants the cream of the crop. Lets hope this goes alright." Jazra frowns. "I heard about some dud eggs recently at Ista's last. Two of them were dead, it wasn't a very happy sight. Liaoth was really depressed watching it." Her fingers are crossed, which she holds up in front of Veyanne.

On the Sands, Tarianel laughs at K'jan, "Well, I'll be sure to later then" is replied. Eyes glance at that hatchling and then at the other egg still remaining. "Well, almost done, though there are about twenty or so candidates to choose from. You'd think it'd know!"

Falgin sighs a bit at Lyani's reaction, and soothes Lacey's back with one large hand.

On the Sands, The Cinereous Sediment Hatchling has had enough. Having circumnavigated the entire sands, it seems unable to find what it wants until it spies a group of candidates huddled near the galleries and races towards them. A pause, then a screech of frustration echoes off stone and the hatchling ploughs straight through, scattering white-robed figures left and right and center as it scrabbles at the low ledge dividing Sands from Galleries. A piteous creel of pain and need escapes this Hatchling -- a long, continuous wail as it scrapes itself against the rough stone, desperate to ascend where it cannot go. Only when its gaze finally locks onto a girl with dark hair and a round face does the heartrending creel turn to a satisfied croon -- Impression! The futile struggle to climb ends as it sits on the Sands, waiting its new lifemate to travel downwards, gravity is easier that way. As it waits, it decides to do something about that papier-mache covering that is glued to its hide, scratching at the stone of the Hatching Sands and eventually revealing the Cascading Chaos Green of its hide.

         Morning light filter's through a mountain's verdant growth, brilliant colors cast within the waterfall that cascades over tumbled boulders, the emerald hues reflected across the hide of this green hatchling. Celadon courses over her flanks only to be captured in the treacherous hazards at the merge of her shoulders, finally swirling into aqueous foam around algae-encrusted neckridges. Turbulent aquamarine rushes over her belly as the current of water's passing causes kelp-like patterns to ripple down her legs, solidity found exclusively within her stony talons. Lichen limns her leading edges, providing disparity to the mossy growth that clings tenaciously to her wingbones while flickering sunlight creates a spray of jewel-like sparkles, a chaotic array of peridot droplets held forever within the stasis of her wings.

Jazra's head whips around to regard Veyanne sharply. "Oh dear, looks like somebody was picky!" She exclaims. "GO VEYANNE!" SHe shouts. "Show them who's boss!"

On the Sands, Silver Silence Egg's inhabitant manages to break free with a minimum of movement and noise. The hatchling slinks its way towards a grey-cloaked candidate, but remains cloaked in the mist and smoke, only glowing red-rimmed eyes visible in the gloom, eyes that are focused on an increasingly nervous Jerric. The former smith nudges the person standing next to him. "I think it is staring at us, it's creepy ...it's icky ... wait! He's glorious and his name is Byraneth." A weyrlingmaster starts across the sands to escort the glorious one and J'ic toward the mundane world of food and oil.

On the Sands, K'jan tightens his arm around Tari "Oh, I'll need no reminding sweetheart, be sure of that." He frowns then, as he sees what's going on "What in shards? What is that little thing doing?"

On the Sands, Naltia blinks, "Did she just choose someone who wasn't a Candidate?" she asks, confused.

On the Sands, Veyanne gets up and rushes down the stairs, nearly slipping in her hurry. "I'm coming, Nadieth." Soon, but not soon enough, she's kneeling beside the injured hatchling, somehow knowing just where to rub to ease the pain.

On the Sands, Tarianel wrinkles her nose and points at the wall where the 'adventure' is unfolding, "What the shards? Veyanne, get back into those Stands right now, we don't need you injured!"

Lacey jumps out of Falgin's lap, her eyes as wide as saucers. Pale as a sheet, the Headwoman is definitely rattled. "Oh my first egg, I never, I heard, oh dear, are you sure? Oh dear. Veyanne? But she's engaged, to be married. Her fiance isn't going to be too happy. To a green? I mean the dragon, not the man. I'm sure he's not green."

On the Sands, Nadieth creels with mingled joy and pain as Veyanne joins her on the sands, butting her head tenderly against the girl's middle, then rubbing her mucky muzzle against the girl's relatively clean clothes.

Sana blinks. Just... blinks. Whoa. But even so, she calls, "Congratulations, Veyanne!"

On the Sands, Gwen turns as she realizes what's happening. "Uh oh. Let me." She tells the others there. "I know her." SHe says urgently to Tarianel. "Saeynth tried to Search her back at Unified. She refused. I'll get her." Gwen moves to intercept Veyanne. "Darling Veyanne, it seems the dragons had their way after all. I'm glad you and Nadieth are safe, but we need to get you out of this mess, get you something to eat and have a dragonhealer check you over." She says worriedly.

On the Sands, S'am stares at the hatchling's odd behavior, frowning as he looks between the others. "Is this...normal behavior si.. K'jan?" Peering once more towards the edge, he moves back to Cazynth's side as the brown rumbles worriedly.

On the Sands, K'jan shakes his head at Tarianel "Too late, Sweetheart. Seems we shouldn't have allowed her to decline search after all. The choice has been made." He watches the new weyrling pair disappear.

On the Sands, As the very last pairing is escorted to the Weyrling room, the remaining Weyrlingmasters and riders on the sands step towards the damp, grey and muddy candidates. Some of the candidates find it hard to meet the kindly glances and reassurances of assistant Weyrlingmasters. Others stand stoically. Others longingly glance toward whatever shelter the galleries might provide. Steady streams of visitors make their way down the gallery steps, looking for refuge from the elements. Others wait, in deference of the Weyr leadership still on the sands.

On the Sands, Tarianel hrmfs, her hand going to sit on her hip, "Well, that's the last time anyone will be allowed to refuse Search if I had my way. What a sight! I'll be hearing about it for months from those Holder folks! And now everyone will want one of their very own!"

On the Sands, Veyanne cradles Nadieth carefully as the dragonet nearly crawls into her lap. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I had no idea -- we need to follow Gwen. There are people who can help you. Come on."

On the Sands, Naltia just looks relieved that the hatchling finally found her rider. She frantically scribbles in the journals, wanting to get them all finished up.

On the Sands, Nadieth seems to trust Veyanne to lead the way towards comfort and follows her with that quick movement.

Jazra takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh of relief. "All's well that ends well." She tells Lacey, an expression of relief on her face. "I was getting worried there."

On the Sands, Evana is one of the stoic ones, standing impassively as she awaits the now-familiar words from the Weyrleaders.

Lyani frowns as she stands. "I was sure she was lookin' for me and Veyanne spoiled it. I just knew she was lookin' for me." With a sniff, the preteen heads off in a huff. "No one loves me, everyone hates me.."

On the Sands, K'jan shakes his head again, but then moves away from Tarianel to make his 'speech'. Clearing his throat, he waves a hand to the remaining candidates, gathering them close. "If you could all give me a moment.." He calls.

Falgin rolls his eyes at Lacey "Now I see the real reason you don't want me giving her sweetener." He mutters.

On the Sands, K'jan gives Evana a sympathetic smile before he addresses all of the candidates. "So. Another hatching passes. Unfortunately, as always, we never seem to have enough hatchlings, do we?" he shakes his head "Would that it were different, but perhaps another time there will be a dragon for you on the Sands. Even if you find other paths in the future, know that we at Southern appreciate your committing yourselves to us for this brief period of time, and we hope you all know that you will always have a home with us, if that is your desire. If not, dragons are waiting to take you wherever you wish to go. Of course, we'd hope you would stay long enough to enjoy the festivities we have being readied in the weyrhall first. Again, thank you for standing for Merilyth and Cazynth's clutch."

Sighing heavily, after the shock has worn off, Lacey sits back on Falgin's knee. "Did you see that? I've only heard of those happening in harper songs and Lyani? I told you, sweetener crashes. Ugly things they are. But we'll have some reassuring to do, she took the death of her brother very hard, blaming herself for it. I think that's what's really going on.." Shaking her head, she changes her tone. "But we've got guests to attend to, and broken hearts to put back together. Poor Evana for example..."

On the Sands, Tarianel nods in agreement to K'jan's words, "There's always a place for you here should you need it. Just ask. Lacey has plenty of openings now that some of her staff is no longer able to clean, or cook, or hunt." She takes K'jan's hand, and smiles,"But please, go eat and drink. After all you can do lots of drinking where as those who impressed cannot for a number of turns."

"Why would she blame herself?" Falgin wonders, continuing to soothe his hand over Lacey's back, though he nods. "Unbelievable. But then, dragons are strange creatures at any time." He sighs, and lifts her carefully off his lap and then stands next to her "Let's get to the duty then, Luv. We've got plenty of wine for them to drown their sorrows in."

On the Sands, Tarianel turns to Naltia, "When you're done with those then you should take them to the Weyrlings and deliver them" she remarks. "S'am can help you carry them. And, Naltia, be nice when you give them, don't scare them!"

On the Sands, Naltia looks up from the journals to look at those who were left standing. She smiles in sympathy, nodding to K'jan's words. Journals finished, she picks them up, the stack towering. Merilyth rises and stretches, nosing some of the egg shards sadly. Then hunger grips her and the young queen is springing aloft, heading for the feeding pens to make a mess of things. Naltia makes for the exit. She pauses, then, and turns to S'am, offering him half. She sticks her tongue out at Tarianel, but it's clear her mood has improved. Especially with that sigh of relief when Merilyth makes her first kill. "Hey, S'am," she says quietly. She hesitates, "Thanks."

On the Sands, Evana nods slowly, fighting back (and losing to) tears. She says nothing, but heads off of the sands, her shoulders slumped.

Lacey wraps her arm around her husband's waist and starts toward the exit. "Children always blame themselves, they don't understand that they aren't the center of the universe. She's at an age she knows that /now/ but she didn't know it then." With a little squeeze, she reassures. "She'll be fine but our guests need food and drink and I need some hot klah."

On the Sands, K'jan sighs, shaking his head again as he watches the candidates trudge off "I really, really hate this part of the job." He mutters.

On the Sands, Tarianel waggles a finger at Naltia, "I will pretend I did not see that. Don't let me see it again" she notes, "and you can take the day off tomorrow. Rest. Spend quality time with Merilyth."

"Well, I'm not stopping you, Luv. Let's go. I want to get out of this muck anyway." Falgin turns her towards the stairs.

On the Sands, Tarianel nods, "As do I, dear, as do I." She tugs on his hand, "Let's go, I'm going to leave Naltia to take charge here but I want to get out of these clothes and brush this ash from my hair. Come on" she tugs, heading off.

On the Sands, S'am steps back from Cazynth as the brown crouches down and leaps skywards, no doubt heading towards a beach. Walking over to the others, he nods "No problem." to Tarianel and takes the offered journals. Tilting his head down to Naltia, he gives a little grin. "Any time. Well, not really but you know what I mean." He laughs and gestures for the Jr. Weyrwoman to lead the way.

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