Egg Touchings

Candidate's Barracks
This large, rectangular room has seen much usage and more excitement in its time, and the evidence of it is clearly visible in the well-worn floor and the battered cots that line its walls. Covering the cold stone surfaces of arches and windowless vaults are a series of tapestries, simplistic in nature but comforting nonetheless: each depicts the daily life of the Weyr, whether through the antics of Weyrlings bathing their dragons, or the majestic wheelings of full-grown dragons overhead. One massive tapestry even shows the stumbling white-robed Candidates on the glittering black sands of the Ista Hatching Grounds, gathered around a mound of eggs with watchful queen in anxious attendance.
(If you wish, you may type 'candidates' in this room, and see who has been Searched so far.)
You see Candidate Bulletin Board, Dymphna, Bedeviere, Emera, Kreen, Basil, Ariesca, Death, Luccascious, and Rhoegain here.
Tamyka, Maralia, and Jestine are here.
Obvious exits:
Out

Tamyka
Soft locks of red-hued brown drape around Tamyka's face and around her shoulders, providing a nice contrast to her rather pale skin tone. Her face has considerably thinned since her younger turns, her facial features becoming more defined and attractive as she ages. A slim nose, rather petite compared to her other features is placed most delicately above rose petal soft lips. Round eyes are colored a pale aquamarine blue, ringed precisely with sooty gray, and framed with long, dark lashes. Tamyka's femininity has definitely become more apparent, her chest and hips shaping into the curves of womanhood. Her thin arms usually drape in some manner about her chest or rest on her hips, trying to hide the obviousness of her growth. Her legs, short as they might be, make up most of her 5'4 frame.
A simple dress of pale blue drapes Tamyka's petite frame, adding a nice wave of color to her rather dull persona. Resting upon Tamyka's shoulder is a simple knot, a single cord with a single loop in Ista Weyr's colors of orange and black. A thin strand of white carefully weaves itself in and out of the faded colors of Tamyka's knot, denoting the young woman as an Ista Weyr Candidate.. Jelly regards you, perched atop Tamyka's shoulder. Flizard regards you, perched atop Tamyka's shoulder. Sorceress Polgara regards you, perched atop Tamyka's shoulder. Commando regards you, perched atop Tamyka's shoulder. Ganso regards you, perched atop Tamyka's shoulder.
Tamyka is 19 Turns, 1 month, and 27 days old.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Ganso
Commando
Sorceress Polgara
Flizard
Jelly

Maralia
She is a fairly tall, athleticly thin and leggy blonde. Her blonde hair falls to just above her waist in a tightly woven braide bound with a strip of leather at the end. She has eyes that are an unusual blend of blue and green, and they sparkle like the waters of the lakes on a sunny day.
On her shoulder is a neatly tied knot, of a single white cord twisted with cords of black and orange, showing that she is a current candidate at Ista Weyr.
Black work pants encase her long legs, before the hems disappear into the tops of her boots. A, somewhat faded blue, mid-weight shirt hugs her upper body and is tucked into the waistband of her pants. On her dainty feet are heavy well cared for leather boots. Over the top of her clothing, she wears a somewhat bulky leather work coat, the hood of which she keeps drawn about her head and face when out of doors. The whole outfit is very warm for such weather, but the coat gives her a bit of a childish look. What she wears may be faded and worn looking, but is well mended and cared for.
Maralia is 18 Turns, 7 months, and 11 days old.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.

Jestine
After staying out of the sun for a couple of months, Jestine's appearance has changed. Her skin is now a creamy white, which makes the conrast to her black hair even more pronounced. Her silver eyes seem to glow with contained emotions and sparkle with hints of her current mood. A black scarf with silver embroidery aids in holding her waist-length, black hair back and away from her face. As a result, it cascades down her back in lazy waves.
On her shoulder is the simple white knot of an Istan Candidate.
She is garbed in a light, dark blue, cotton tank top. The material is light enough to allow the skin to breathe but gathered enough to form to her figure. A skirt of the same plain material sways gently with her hips as she moves. Slits along the sides of her legs are up to herupper thigh and allow her to ride in the skirt. Her feet are clad in dark brown sandals that allw (allow) her to walk silently on all surfaces. Kelsey peeks at you from his precarious perch on Jestine's shoulder. Ijarjuk regards you, perched atop Jestine's shoulder. Daenerys regards you, perched atop Jestine's shoulder. Mallory regards you, perched atop Jestine's shoulder. Rhaego regards you, perched atop Jestine's shoulder.
Jestine is 22 Turns, 2 months, and 6 days old.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for 2 minutes.
Carrying:
Rhaego
Mallory
Daenerys
Ijarjuk
Kelsey
Jestine watches all with a face that rarely shows emotion in front of others.

Azarin
At a height of nearly 5'10 this young man is hardly one of the shortest people on Pern. His cool gray eyes look out from underneath dark, straight eyebrows. A fairly straight narrow nose lies right in the middle of his face, a minute scar on one side only perceivable because it is lighter than his tanned skin. High cheekbones make his cheeks look hallow, giving him an almost gaunt appearance, which his sharp chin does nothing to amend. Wiry muscles of arm and leg, and a slim overall figure gives him an rather menacing look, though the light in his eyes is quick to turn warm. Dark hair, growing longer again after a brief encounter with shortness, falls limply around his ears and across his eyes, a constant annoyance that he will not admit to.
A simple knot of three cords twisted together hangs from his left shoulder. Orange, black and white announces him to be a Candidate at Ista Weyr.
The sleeves have been ruthlessly ripped off Aza's maroon tunic, to account for the heat of the Istan summer. Open at the neck, it shows a bit of a nearly hairless chest, tanned from hours spent in the sun (without a shirt). His trousers are in no better shape. Black-dyed canvas has been cut off just above the knees, the loose strands of thread caressing his bronzed thighs. Held tightly to his long feet by black leather straps are thick-soled sandals, well worn and scratched several places.
Azarin is 19 Turns, 8 months, and 13 days old.
He is awake and looks alert.

A snorting snuffle preceeds the entrance of a middle-aged man, Phoenix rider insignia on his right shoulder. Grey-speckled hair is raked out of the way as he stops to take a look around the barracks. "Attention candidates! Get yourselves together. You're being called to the sands."

Maralia stumbles off her cot and tidies her clothing before hurrying into line with the others.

Jestine jumps up from her cot, dropping the sewing she's been working on and cocking her head, as though listening. "But...It can't be /time/ can it? There's not a dragon hum to be heard!" she looks about sort of confusedly.

Azarin is bent over the very important task of trying to sew his candidate robe. The shout from the rider makes him litterally jump off his cot, staring at him and the other candidates. "Time? Are the eggs hatching?" he blurts out, picking up on Jestine's comment. "But my robe's not done..."

Sassafras looks the candidates over one at a time as if ready to disqualify them if one speck of dust is found. "You can call me G'runt," he informs them. "Weyrwoman sent me to fetch you. Seems it's a good time to have you visit the eggs close up." Dark brows rise at the overheard question. "Course it isn't hatching time, girl! You'd know it sure as you've got two feet if it was!"

[IstaCan] Katarra: Crap. =P

Tamyka shifts her gaze from the large amount of while cotton fabric in her lap to the newly entered Phoenix rider, examining his insignia carefully before gathering up the material in her arms and dumping onto her cot, "That can be cleaned up later," the young woman murmurs to herself, taking a moment to brush dirt and grime off of her working dress. Turning to G'runt, the candidate awaits further instruction.

Jestine ahs quietly. Nah, she's not nervous. Not at all. And she takes her place with the others, softly shifting from one foot to the other.

Maralia shifts into line, standing quietly with the other.

Azarin breathes a sigh of relief, fingering the half-done robe, then tosses it back on the cot. Another moment passes and the satisfied look on his face is replaced with an expression of worry. "But.. Will the queens let us onto the sands? Zurry's gold almost ate me last time I came even /close/ to the edge!"

Apparently satisfied, G'runt rounds back to the front of the group. "Course they will. With the Weyrwomen present to ease them you... should be fine." His significant pause is accompanied by a lift of his chin. Could he be pulling some legs here? "Just make sure you mind your manners. Greet the queen as you enter and /don't/ make any sudden movements." He pauses again - insinuating dire consequenses to follow. "Got that? Any questions?"

No sudden movements, greet the queen as you make your way onto the sands... Tamyka nods affirmatively, figuring the requirements won't be too difficult to follow. A quick glance is sent about the barracks, a smile idly playing at the young woman's lips. Something /good/ for once. Perhaps her luck as changed for the time being. Offering Azarin an anxious smile, Tamyka continues to await the signal to /go/.

G'runt jerks his head toward the door. "Fine. Stay in line and follow me to the sands. Don't wander off!" With another one of those distinctive snort/grunts, he leads the way.

Swallowing a lump, Azarin nonetheless nods, feeling only a little bit reassured. No sudden moves. He'd learnt that long ago when he'd first gone to see the eggs. "As long as I get out alive," he whispers to a smaller boy standing next to him, making the candidate green in the face. "No, sir, no questions," he tells G'runt, shaking his head as he offers Tamyka a wink. It'll all be alright. He /knew/ one of the weyrwomen, so just stick to him.

Jestine nods. No prob. She's done this before, after all. Nothing to worry about. Nope. However, her feet keep shifting, and her hands idly finger a stray thread come loose on her skirt.

[** Travel Spam **]

You walk carefully out onto the sands, taking care not to disturb the queen or her eggs.

Sands (#1993J)
Waves of heat drape their stifling folds over breath and skin, scentless perfume from the black diamond that cover the floor of the Hatching Cavern. Scintillant, they burn the soles of bare feet; seduce the eye with their deceptive glitter in jet made prism and rainbow both. What cooler air there is flows in from the huge openings from the bowl, wreathing swift and teasing down the shafts of sunlight that ride them; at night, it is the large baskets of glows that dot which lend subtle illumination, the sparkling sands more subtle than starlight seen through a shroud of mist.
You see Suryareth, Minty Prairie Oyster Egg, Infinite Time and Space Egg, Genuinely Tiny Knickers Egg, Fear-Driven Feeding Frenzy Egg, Don't Call Me Peck! Egg, Swallow-Borne Coconut Egg, Sparkling Diamonds Egg, Velvet Curtains of Sadness Egg, Manhattan Mermaid Egg, Worldly Caverns Untold Egg, Majestic White Iceberg Egg, Groovy Psychadelic Egg, Elephant Graveyard Egg, Decorous Glass-Case Egg, Great Big Tylenol Egg, Dizzying Mask of Green Egg, Intergalactic Cockroach Egg, Glowing Petals under Glass Egg, Saucy Bowl of Tangles Egg, As You Wish Egg, Theronth, Tajiath, and Jaqueth here.
M'gael, Katarra, Kyla, Tamyka, and Jestine are here.
Obvious exits:
Entrance

G'runt enters just before the candidates and gives the Weyrwoman a salute from afar. Waiting near the entrance, he watches the candidates from the cooler shadows.

Kyla is here, jacket tossed to the side of the sands, arms crossed over her black tank top. "I've no idea how you stand it out here, Kat. I don't envy you a bit." Eyes flicker over the incoming candidates as if she's comparing each with some kind of internal measuring stick. "And I'll /never/ forgive you and Zureile for doing this to me.." A nod is tossed to the Fortian before she falls silent, waiting for Kat to explain the rules and such to the group.

Kyla
Copper-caught auburn curls fall to midback and if one looks closely a few silver tinged streaks mingle as well. Pale green eyes sparkle from her deep Istan tan that dances over high cheeckbones and helps mask the feathering of fine lines scattered over her face. A perpetual smile seems to hover over her full lips, as if her lifemate is chattering to her constantly. Slight of form, narrow-boned, she stands but five feet tall; her voice is a contrastingly rich, alto accented by the subtle burr of Crom's foothills.
Orange, black and forest green thread twine and loop around Kyla's shoulder, showing that she is Ista's Weyrlingmaster.
Indigo layers with verdant green, a warm and wooly vest clasped close about her creamy flight leathers by buttons of polished horn; narrow piping in those same colors details the reach of arm and breadth of shoulder, and superimposes interlocking diamonds over slim breeches' outer seams. Diamonds decorate her high boots as well, tooled deeply into the dark brown leather for a fanciful touch while tromping through even the thickest mud.
Kyla is 37 Turns, 2 months, and 22 days old.
She is awake and looks alert.

Maralia walks carefully onto the hot sands, making sure not to disturb the queen or her eggs.

Jestine moves purposefully over to Tamyka and Azarin, trying not to hint at her hot feet and general antsiness.

Seeing the candidates file in, Katarra moves to intercept and greets the group with a smile. Glancing toward G'runt, she nods at his salute, taking the insinuation that the candidates have been forewarned and prepped. "Welcome," she says, pausing directly on their path to the eggs and before they reach Tajiath.

Katarra casts a wry grin over her shoulder. "I'd think you would be a /little/ used to it by now WeyrlingMaster," she teases Kyla. "Maybe you should visit us more often so you're not so hot come Hatching time."

Leaning against Theronth, M'gael looks up expectantly as the candidates enter; he gives a little grin, but stays where he is, simply watching.

Azarin slowly approches across the hot sands, looking this way and that until his eyes finally rest on the dragons. Big dragons. What was that thing they had to do? Greet the queen. But how? Electing for his standart greeting Aza gives a bow, and a crooked smile, before moving a step or two further onto the sands.

Katarra
Golden tresses tumble down her back in heavy waves, a sway of her hips sending the ends swinging around her waist as she walks. Wide, sea-green eyes glance your way through long, coal black lashes. Full, rosy lips are very expressive, be it pout, frown, or smile. Turns of weyr leadership and life's experiences have finally caught up with her appearance and given more depth to the regal demeanor and curvacious figure that served her well in the turns when she was too young to have really earned them. She is generally soft-hearted and kind, her ego caused more by a pampered upbringing and continued self-indulgence than real conceit. However, her rather narrow viewpoint on life was drastically altered (argueably for the better) by the entrance of one very possessive and bossy dragonic lifemate; making a little more room in the center of the universe for someone other than herself.
An intricately braided loop of Ista's black and orange adorns her shoulder to form the knot of Senior Weyrwoman, a single ribbon of fire-gold circling the others in honor of her lifemate.
A perfect summer's sky in rich shades of late afternoon teal sprawl lazily across the confines of a sleeveless cotten dress, highlighting curves with one movement and shading them with the next. Silver lace overlays the teal like wistful clouds making designs in the sky. Finger-width straps cross her back and go over her shoulders, held in place along the low-cut neckline by two polished buttons. Gray trim adds its shadow, following the neckline and flirting with flashes of knee along the hem as the flared skirt rustles.
Katarra is 30 Turns, 5 months, and 16 days old.
She is awake and looks alert.

M'gael
His hairline's slowly receding to leave an even broader forehead; brown hair's darkened, though, and now that he's grown it out a little bit, it's even wavier. His crooked nose and thin lips suit him well in his middle ages, as well as his suntanned skin. Crinkles have formed around his beaded olive eyes; eyebrows are still bushy and dramatic. As he's grown older, his body seems softer, less defined by musculature; he's developed a little bit of a belly.
Brown and black twine and bind to bronze thread: it identifies M'gael as bronzerider of Fort. He also wears the Sentinel pin on his clothing; and on his leathers, the Sentinel patch.
His button-up shirt is white, thin, with sleeves rolled-up to his elbows; he wears shorts, which are a bland tan, that are cut-off and frayed at the ends. On his feet: his old, trusty pair of brown, worn sandals.
M'gael is 31 Turns, 5 months, and 17 days old.
He is awake and looks alert.
He's managed to pick up a little of a tan.

In the background, but very much prominent, is Tajiath. Standing, with wings rustling uneasily, she watches the arrivals with sparkling eyes changing subtle hues constantly.

Maralia steps slowly out on to the sands stepping over to join Tamykin and the others before venturing out any farther.

Tamyka enters beside Azarin, stature calm and relaxed as she cooly, but slowly, strides in the direction of the queen and her lifemate, stopping just as Katarra interupts her path. Sending a meaningful, if not uncomfortable glance toward Kyla, the candidate offers a half-bow in regards to the Weyrwoman. Gripping her lowerlip between her teeth, she inhales deeply. It's /hot/.

Jestine takes the initiative and also bows to the Weyrwoman, giving Tajiath and Suryareth a bow and a /smile/. Yup, that's right. A big ole smile. She seems to relax visibly seeing her fellow candidates in similiar discomfort. Well, at least she's not the only nervous one.

Maralia bows in respect to both sets of Clutch parents and thier riders, all the while shifting her feet on the sands. Watching to see if the others are also doing so.

Katarra waves on hand toward the eggs, smile tilting slightly at the candidates discomfort. Oh, how long ago those days seem now. Still, her tone is comforting as she says, "Go ahead and wander among the eggs. Just move slowly and carefully. They're just getting hard."

So far, so good. Having not been eaten yet, Azarin dares to send a smile to the candidate next to him, namely Tamyka, along with a wink. The heat beneath his feet hasn't really sunk in yet, and he stands ready to move out among the eggs, blinking as the offer comes from Katarra. Taking a deep breath he takes a step, and another, and one more, and in moments he's right there in the middle of the orbs. "Incredible," he whispers, forgetting about those looming dragons over there..

Kyla chuckles at Katarra, "The heat isn't too bad for me. After all I know I can escape whenever I want." She darts a glance at the brooding queen. "But it seems she's getting better with each clutch about letting you wander off.." The last is more a question than a statement. Returning attention to the candidates, she watches them start to swarm over the sands. "Everytime it brings back memories, doesn't it?" This is aimed at both the other riders, or the thin air. Whichever is listening.

Maralia nods towards Katarra, then moves away from the others and towrads th eggs, moving slowly but steadily until she pauses to touch one, Saucy Bowl of Tangles egg, is the one she reaches a hand out towards.

Jestine follows suit, walking slowly into the midst of the eggs and pausing before each one, admiring the different patterns and colors withing the shells. A quiet "wow" or 'ooh' accompanies these hesitations, or even the odd chuckle as she finds a funny shape in this one or that one. A quiet giggle is heard as she pauses in front of Genuinely Tiny Knicers Egg, and she walks around it for a closer look.

While Tamyka only wears sandles, the heat hasn't managed to penetrate through their thick soles as of yet, so the candidate isn't forced to do the infamous CandieDance. Catching Azarin's second wink, the former apprentice offers him a sweet smile. Just because she's already begun sweat, doesn't mean she can't be pleasant. Acknowledging Katarra's offer to explore the sands, Tamyka takes only a minute to breathe before wandering off on her own, intent on getting close to the Glowing Petals under Glass Egg. Tamyka drags her petite form toward the hardening circular object, suddenly lathargic. She isn't much good with this much heat.

Azarin turns around, looking for that one egg he'd spotted when he'd first seen the clutch. Slowly circling around, making sure he doesn't come too close to those near the queens, he finally stops at one that catches his attention. Not the one he'd noted back then, but just as nice. "It's really alright to touch them?" he asks, but doesn't wait for an answer as he crouches by the Infinite Time and Space egg, putting only his fingertips on the shell. "It's warm!" he blurts out, his tone surprised as he looks up at the rider.

Infinite Time and Space Egg
A dichotomy of events defines this ovoid. On one side a cataclysm takes place, a cavalcade of colors, brilliant lemon, subdued cerulean, subjective wisteria, and humble burnt sienna, to name a few, spiral into an ever decreasing orbit, until finally, compressing into a single point of darkness. Directly opposite the end of color is the beginning of it all. The point at which all color of this egg burst, a tumultuous overexuberance extrudes from within. Mother of pearl commences it all, streaking into the spectrum. At first, hints of yellow, blue, and red peek out of the brilliance, their diversity become more apparent, until finally, the roles are reversed, white peers out of fields of jungle green, vivid violet, and electric lime, just in time to begin the compression again.

"Aye, isn't it?" M'gael remarks, grinning at Azarin. After giving a pat to Theronth's side, he wanders closer to Katarra. "I remember this."

Katarra smiles at both Kyla and M'gael, but most of her attention is on Tajiath and the candidates, making sure the queen stays calm with so much activity around her eggs.

Jestine gives Genuinely Tiny Knickers Egg a short caress before moving on to the next egg she noticed upon entering. Coming up to Sparkling Diamonds Egg, she gets lost in gem-like colors. Ooooh, shiny! She gives Tajiath a quick glance, making sure she's not about to be eaten, and reaches out to feel the warm shell.

Maralia touches Saucy bowl of Tangles egg one last touch before oving to lay a hand on Tiny knickers egg. Running a hand over the shell slowly and carefully, not touching it too hard.

Dark and cool, still and quiet, an odd touch brushes against your mind. The immense size is almost too much and to deal with and luckily it fades as quickly as it came, leaving an odd emptiness behind.

Azarin smiles to himself as he lets his fingertips run over the orb, suddenly giving a start as something creeps into his mind. Blinking he decides that it's just his imagination and the heat in this place, playing tricks on him and leaves the egg to go in search of that one egg he was intent on finding. That one? No, but it's still interestingly colored, isn't it? They all are, of course. Fingers brush over the Fear-Driven Feeding Frenzy Egg's surface as he bends to observe it closer.

Fear-Driven Feeding Frenzy Egg
Austerely shaped, sorted, and stamped, this sphere seems to rest as solidly as any Plymouth Rock, and just as beautifully. The stern sweep of dried, darkened mud serves as base for deep-driven pilings and the ropy S-curve of a pale streak twined about the narrow end. All the inglorious scores of worn woodgrain mark shell's severely puritan curve, wounds borne proudly-disdainfully, even. Yet the almost unseen teeter of sand beneath betrays the insecurity hidden by all the conviction that false righteousness can possessa good push might send it over, you know, just one hard shove driven by the eddies and swirls of a flooding fear

Tamyka stops in front of the Glowing Petals under Glass Egg, suddenly entranced by its significant and ultimate beauty. Once more taking in a large amount of the sticky air of the sands, the young woman reaches out an arm, hesitant to touch the egg for fear that she may destroy the unique creation that this egg is. Reaching only a bit more, Tamyka gently brushes her finger tips across the warm shell of the multicolored shell, smile giving her expression a touch of satisfaction. Calling to her, the egg is examined to the fullest, slim fingers tracing the petals of the flowery imprint upon the orb.

Maralia lets her hand wander slowly over the egg as it seems to move, shaking her head a moment as if she was just seeing and feeling things, before tracing a slow circular pattern across and around the shell.

Jestine gasps slightly. Peering down into the myriad sparkles and shimmers, she cocks her head, curious. After spending several minutes entranced by the sparkly *whee!*, Jestine moves on to As You Wish Egg, the muted, shimmering colors catching her eye. Kneeling down, she gently rests her hands on the warm egg and looks over it intently, as though curious to feel out the life it is brewing within.

Upright, righteous, that woodgrained ovoid, though you better watch out: darkened mud seems that it /might/ come off onto your hands, dirtying you, dragging you into the fear and apprehension that swirls the sands around this egg.

Muttering words of surprise Azarin leaves the egg he'd been kneeling by, moving on among the clutch, looking down at his hands with an odd expression on his face, glancing back at the ovoid. What /was/ it about these eggs, anyway? Poor, confused Aza stops momentarily by one egg, but quickly moves on to it's neighbor; that one having caught his attention more so than the first. Worldly Caverns Untold Egg receives a more rough handling, Aza's hands splayed on the orb, fingers tapping lightly on the shell. Let's see if this is as odd as the others..

Worldly Caverns Untold Egg
Aching for an opportunity to grasp life, this glistening egg of boundless treasures. Waiting amongst the countless treasures guarded by the watery blue eggshell are collections of everything conceivable to irk ones understanding as to what exactly the images are, but everything hazes together, in unison, covered by wavelets that disguise the appearance. Wonders abound in a dance of questions unanswered, knowledge unknown, love and life yet to be fulfilled. Still a sense of desire is present, desires to feel warm sands, journey out of the sea of shell and be unconfined for all to see the true beauty of such riches.

Kyla shifts on the sands, her boots luckily helping with the majority of the discomfort. "So..M'gael, is it?" She flashes him a bit of a smile, "Welcome to Ista..I must be the last to finally drag myself down here and met you. I'm Kyla."

Tamyka washing her hand over the blues and the myriad of other colors that have managed to envelope this egg, the candidate sends a meaningful glance about the sands, attention caught and held by the Velvet Curtains of Sadness Egg. Dropping her hand from the Glowing Petals under Glass Egg, the young woman slowly draws herself away from its form, carefully stalking in the direction of the Velvet Curtains of Sadness Egg, trapped by it's rich red coloration. "It looks like... blood," the former healer murmurs to herself, standing in front of the shape stupidly, "A sad story, the different hues of red around it." Touching a single finger upon it, Tamyka traces her finger along a rather deep shade of red, following a twisted path of pink after that. Enveloped by the egg's elegance, the candidate's usual stature has seeminly diminished, at loss of words to describe the magical appearance of the buring Istan sands.

Dark with glimmers and shafts of light sparkling through, this egg seems to call to you..no to /sing/ to you about the life in a different world. A tune softly winds into your mind, swirling here and there bringing along the smell of the ocean and the tinge of warm sunlight above. Do you want to join the dance?

Tajiath rumbles suddenly, and with a loud snuffle settles her form to the sands. Molten wings still glitter though, moving slightly in the glowbasket's light, her tail restlessly tapping the sand. At her side, Katarra smiles and gives the golden hide a soft pat. "See? I told you they'd be alright." Turning her head toward her fellow riders, her expression widens to one of distinct relief. Whew!

Maralia turns away from Tiny Knickers egg with a final pat, before moving on to Fear_Droven Feedng Frenzy egg, roaming its shell careful, inspecting it's colors and swirls of colors closely.

Jestine's eyes widen slightly, and she lifts her hands momentarily off of the egg. 'Woah...' is her quiet utterance, and looking about again, she once more places her hands on the shell, facinated by the warm life she can feel pulsing inside.

"There! Look! That's the one," Azarin suddenly blurts out, pointing at an egg close to the one he's been examining. "That strange one over there. I saw it the first time I came here." Came to the hatching caverns, that is. The impression from the last egg is soon forgotten as the candidate stumples toward that one egg which has been stuck in his memory since that day. The day where Suryareth had nearly eaten him. But he'll just forget about that as he crouches to inspect Dizzying Mask of Green Egg.

Dizzying Mask of Green Egg
Mysteriously flowing into a whirlwind, smudged colors of greens consume the egg in all entireties. Markings, forever chosen to be, intensify the resemblance of stiff forest woods, overgrown and intermingling. Many shades of olive, aiding to the appearance of cracks only reaching the depths of the surface, wrap in pattern about the egg of numerous greens. Matching brackish-green marks face one another. Marvelously, the space between them may very well be the only reason for them to never meet and combine as one. Meanwhile the surface below has other blends of this same shade that have the egg seem as though it has a face all of its own, looking out unto its surroundings.

Heat radiates from the sands, making the air thick and hard to breath, especially for those unused to it. Shadows dance on the far-flung cavern walls between glowbaskets, shimmering even moreso over the hottest areas of sand.

"Yeah, M'gael," he returns, grinning a bit. "You're-- Niabeth's? I believe Theronth's chatted with her before." He squints out over the sands, watching the candidates mingle with the eggs. "Have you guys found enough candidates yet?"

Heat? What heat? Azarin's been too busy messing with the eggs to notice any heat. His tunic may be soaked and all, but he's not really aware of it. Yet.

Kyla leans against the wall under the gallery seating. "Ah yes. Niabeth chats up all the bronzes around." Eyes are rolled slightly as she chuckles, "She's not notoriously shy." She, too, looks out at the candidates wandering about. "Seems so. The dragons have pretty much slowed down with bringing them in." Shoulders hunch slightly in a shrug, "But you never know, do you?" The mind of a dragon? As if.

Maralia stares closely at Fear-Driven feeding Frenzy egg, then at her hands before moving them again over the shell. Tracing a swirl of brown here and there, touching it softly making sure not to disrupt the occupant within it.

Twisted yet tempting, something about this egg calls to you, pulls you inward. Try me! You'll like me! We can take on the world together! Maniacal laughing floats slowly around, before cutting off with a snap.

Tamyka noticed the heat, and it's especially visible by her suddenly bright red face and quickly rising chest. Coughing for a moment, the candidate sputters something along the lines of, "I... can't... breathe." Resting a protective hand upon the shell of swirling red velvet, the young woman rests her other hand upon her knee, trying to catch her breath. Wiping away the salty sweat that managed to gather upon her brow, the candidate forces herself to stand up. She'd rather not be threatened by any worrisome golds at this point, so pretending to be alright is relatively easy.

"Does that mean it's getting closer to Hatching?" M'gael wonders, casting a quick glance to Theronth, who's near some of Suryareth's eggs, on the far side of the caverns. "Theronth says he's not really sure."

Jestine tears her eyes away from the whirling colors long enough to notice Tamyka's sudden spell. Moving carefully over towards her, she gives her fellow candi a pat on the shoulder. "You okay?" she murmurs, glancing around to see if anyone else noticed.

Dizzy, spinning, whirling madness - it's party time! P. A. R. T... Y? Cause it's a lean, green, hatchling producing machine, that's why! It's easy to get lost in all the green that coats the Dizzying Mask of Green Egg. Heat scorches your skin as it vibrates from the shell, energy simply oozing from every inch of it's surface.

"Eh?!" Eyeing the Dizzying Mask of Green Egg suspiciously, Azarin slowly backs away from it, glancing back at Tamyka as the candidate coughs. A noise suddenly making him aware of the heat in here, and the fact that his tunic is wet. "How long've we been here?" he asks no one in particular, though his gaze is moving in the general direction of the riders. They'd know, wouldn't they?

Kyla shrugs, "/You/ are asking me?" she teases. "I'd think you've been on the sands more often than I have." Nose wrinkles, sending her freckles dancing. "The eggs will hatch when they are ready. That's all Niabeth ever says to me. I personally think it's because she has no foggy idea." Kat gets a questioning look, "Any thoughts?" The candidate's question is heard and she frowns slightly as she thinks, "About a candlemark?"

Maralia leaves the egg she is touching and slowly moves towards Dizzying mask of Green egg, stopping to look over at Tamyka to see if she's okay before reaching out to touch the egg. palm flat against the surface.

Tamyka blinks, removing her hand from the Velvet Curtains of Sadness egg as she waves it dismissively about in the air, shaking her head. Turning to face her fellow candidate, Tamyka offers a proper smile, pushing away the wet locks of hair that stick to her face as she nods, "I'm fine. Just overheated, I suppose. It's amazing out here, Jestine. Go explore. I'll be fine." Offering Jestine a friendly pat on the shoulder, the young woman reluctantly removes herself from the red egg, hoping that it was just the surge of sudden emotion that made it impossible for her to breathe. Don't Call Me Peck! Egg catches Tamyka's gaze and holds it as the girl staggers in that direction. She'll be fine, really.

Katarra takes her gaze away from the candidates long enough to shrug slightly in reponse to M'gael's question. "The eggs are definitely getting harder, but I think we still have awhile yet." How's that for vague? "Ooof!" Katarra suddenly jumps as a large muzzle nudges her back. "Hey, don't forget how big you are," she chides. Catching the eye of brownrider G'runt, still faithfully waiting near the bowl entrance, she motions for him to approach. Then raising her voice, she addresses the candidates. "Everyone, if you'll come this way. It's time to go. G'runt will take you back to the barracks." Behind the weyrwoman, Tajiath bobs her head and rises, eager to do a thorough inspection and fix any changes done to the eggs. Surely the sand has been trampled at the very least!

Jestine sighs, giving Tamyka a smile, and lets her hand brush over Velvet Curtains of Sadness Egg before she makes for the exit.

Maralia looks at the riders then at the green egg, she nods and lets her hand rail off it as she walks back towrds the entrance, once again bowing in respect to all the clutch parents and their riders.

At Katarra's instructions, M'gael nods to Kyla, then wanders back over to Theronth to give his dragon a thump on the shoulder. "Enjoy watching them?"

Jestine heads out towards the main bowl.

G'runt waves his arms, gesturing as each candidate files past.

"Wow.. It only seems like a few moments," Azarin comments, coming his damp hair with his fingers, while surveying the eggs, looking for a likely one to visit next. Let's see now. Already been there. At the one with the swirling colors, so bypassing that one, the candidate seek out another one. A search broken off by the call to get back to the barracks. Well, at least they'd get some air. And maybe something to drink? Trudging off the sands, Aza turns to give a bow before leaving the eggs and dragons behind.

Kyla pushes off the wall, before bending over to nab her jacket. "Worn our welcome out, have we?" she says lightly to the Weyrwoman and her lifemate. "Next time we'll bring goodies..honest." Can't you see her dragging half a herdbeast in with a nice skin of Benden? "Nice to finally get to met you M'gael." Hand sketches a parting wave, before she follows the masses out of the caverns.

Kyla heads out towards the main bowl.
Maralia heads out towards the main bowl.

You head out towards the main bowl.

You click your heels three times.

*** Disconnected ***

Aza's History

Logs