[Hatching] Rude Awakenings

[Snow]

Neiram had given up on trying to figure out exactly what in the world was going on. In fact she was just sort of standing there like a dimglow as she watched first Ophelia yell at the crowd and then Eavan intervened. Neiram didn’t know what to think. She knew that the girls didn’t like each other, but she wasn’t sure who was in the right here. Judging by actions and not words, Eavan was more in control, but Neiram couldn’t fault Ophelia for wanting to defend the odd colored dragonet.

Amidst the commotion the Fuddy Dud egg hatched and a small gray like dragon came scurrying out…to go hide behind Rusith’s foot. That was strange, not that she could blame the little darling for being frightened. The girls and that…mottled one were being rather loud. She wasn’t sure where to keep her eyes, but then she noticed Ophelia turning away and heard Eavan’s last comment. Did they really have to be so mean to each other on a hatching day?

Then, the bismuth, for that was what they would call it later, disappeared. Neiram gasped. She’d heard the stories of babies going between to stay there. Perhaps he didn’t find any of them worthy? But no! He reappeared directly in front of Ophelia. Neiram let out a gasp of surprise and happiness. She knew that Ophelia was to get the baby from that angry egg. She hoped that the two of would be able to calm the other down. With that done, all that was left was the gold and the other gray baby. Neiram was about beside herself with anxiety.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eavan was just about beside herself with emotional exhaustion. That girl was the utter limit and it didn’t seem like even logically sound reason would get through to her. She noticed that the little gold was sitting close to her and she couldn’t help but feel like the gold was about nearly as exhausted as she was. The poor thing had to be hungry since she was the first to hatch, but she refused to impress. Eavan bet anything she wouldn’t until the last of the babies hatched.

Her eyes finally left the retreating back of Ophelia just in time to see the bismuth dragon go between. Eavan’s heart instantly sank and she was a split second from rounding on the girl whom she was sure caused a baby to suicide. As she turned though, she saw the bismuth come back right in front of Ophelia. Eavan’s anger left instantly at the joy in seeing the baby alright, but it had been quite the fright.

She watched as the two apparently exchanged some words, but then…there it was. The rainbow eyes of impression, even if it was the angriest eyes she’d seen. A smile, yes a smile, spread over Eavan’s face. She was happy for Ophelia even if she still wanted to slap her right across the face. Maybe now that the girl had someone like herself to deal with she would learn to control that temper of hers. All that was left now was the gold and the gray baby that was still hiding. The little gold dragged herself over to the shy baby and began encouraging her like she had most of the other dragonets. Eavan wondered which of the lucky ones left would impress, but at this point she was too stressed and tired to really ponder it so she just watched.

[Sher]

The Tidal Gold was nearing the end of her strength, but crooned soft encouragement as she gently nudged the Smoky Gray. It was a much cleaner silver baby that got back to her feet and crept toward the remaining candidates. She slunk along like she was trying to squeeze herself down into the sand, with her snout pointed down and her eyes up. She knew exactly where she was going – getting there had been the problem from the beginning. The Smoky Gray acted afraid of attention: the crowd that still talked in a variety of upset tones about her and the bismuth before her, the candidates standing in their much-diminished line. It felt like all eyes were on her.

She passed very near to Neiram, glancing up at the girl with a breathless trill, almost an apology of sorts, but steadily crept up beside Prinner. As soon as she arrived before him, the little gray reared up on her hind legs and shoved her head between the young man’s arm and his side, as though by blacking out her sight she could make the crowds really go away. They’re so loud, Mine,[/i] she said softly. Beneath the cover of arm and robe material, her eyes were spinning with rainbows. Can we go somewhere… quieter…?[/i]

Lycath, the Smoky

Color: Gray / Silver(atypical)
Final Size: 37’ long
Optional Theme Songs: "The Fragile" (NIN) / "Learning to Fly" (Pink Floyd)

Appearance:
Lycath’s catlike, aerodynamic body is sheathed in light shades of gray, similar to smoke from a cookfire. Accents in an almost-white hue mark her body like frozen static electricity, gleaming more highly metallic than the rest of her. Her color is something new, but it isn’t the only thing physically that sets her apart. Her wing bones are all abnormally long, with sail membrane matching the extra length. Where the membrane connects to the rest of her body, however, it looks almost like a sizable strip was removed from them; they are noticeably narrower from leading to trailing edge than even a typical green. When furled, these wings look awkward; in the sky it becomes clear just how swift and agile these disproportionate wings truly are, though they have sacrificed stamina to achieve it. That’s right; this shy, unassuming little girl is an aerial ninja. You couldn’t tell by her innocent face!

[/b]
[li]General -
From the beginning, humility and bashfulness surround her. Lycath is naturally soft-spoken, intelligent, and introspective; being the center of attention is highly uncomfortable to her. She doesn’t even like to meet the eyes of others. With her low self-esteem, she’s likely to reject any compliments she receives. She would rather be the one giving compliments, usually after someone else has said it first so she can echo it. Being the first to speak isn’t often her style. This will give some the wrong impression about her, that she is a weak heel-licker, not worth the shine on her hide. Anyone that sees her hunting prowess may rethink their opinion, though; this is one dragon that won’t wait to be able to fly before she starts looking for live prey. It’s as much a challenge to herself as it is a desire to lessen the work Hers faces.

Lycath wants to feel like she’s really included at the Weyr, but as a first generation atypical, the general acceptance she so desperately craves might be a long time coming. She fears being disregarded even more than she fears derision, but her emotions are fragile. The gray is everyone’s friend- but not everyone is her friend. It’s very sad. At least she has an excellent memory for who she’s encountered, which definitely makes it easy to avoid the unpleasant sort. Rank is something she can’t help but be aware of; it keeps the world orderly, after all. The hierarchy of color leaves her in a strange position, not really knowing where she goes- or where she wants to. She isn’t dominant or ambitious, but Lycath is realistic enough about her flaws to desire to work on them. If it weren’t for the desire to make herself better- a better mindmate, a better ‘fighter, a better friend- she might never leave her couch.

[/li][li]Reproduction -
When Lycath Rises, it puts her right into the spotlight- just where she doesn’t want to be. With her, a chase is just that – she is actually running (flying) away from the males, coy and evasive. She would rather give herself to a weyrmate than be chased like a prey animal, if she could find a male that really gets inside her head and understand her reticence. She doesn’t treat potential mates like a bee with flowers; she likes getting to know one before moving on. Prinner’s preferences don’t factor into most Mating Flights- the shy girl’s needs are too sudden and strong much of the time, making the use of stand-ins highly impractical. Her potential fertility is up for debate- some say her metallic hide automatically means she is destined to be an egg factory. Others say her ability to chew firestone shoots that theory in the foot. Only Prinner and Lycath know for sure.
[/li][li]Threadfall -
Drills are fine and good, as long as she doesn’t have to do anything by herself, but trying to get Lycath to use her aerial prowess for the forces of good will start out like pulling teeth with no tools. She doesn’t want to endanger anyone, Hers or her wing-mates, and that’s what she feels like happens when they put their trust in her. She perceives plenty of flaws in herself that just don’t exist, though, and once she has finally consented to take part in a ‘fall or three she might be surprised to find herself addicted to the rush. After she stops being self-conscious about the entire ordeal, muscle memory from repeated drills take over, making the time she is there a study in grace and efficiency. Her flame is comparable to a brown’s, but on a smaller scale.
[/li][li]The Bond -
Prinner represents safety and security. He can stand up for himself? Lycath wants him to stand up for her, too, because she can’t. The reciprocal love and support she feeds back to him is as unconditional as that of a mother to a child. She believes he is the only one capable of understanding what it’s like to be born different. Together, they will show all of Pern that good things do come in small packages.[/li][/ul]

---

While the Smoky Gray was ineffectually trying to sneak toward Hers, the Tidal Gold was slumping to the ground in a pile of sunny shimmer. She was so exhausted. She had been so patient, and given so much of herself, that now she had no energy left. Her head rested on her folded forepaws, and her wings drooped into the sand. Her breathing slowed; the assembled witnesses seemed to suddenly realize the danger she was in. Even Rusith couldn’t disguise her concern; she crouched beside the gold hatchling, the hum dissipating into a worried croon. When there was no response, she shut her eyes, chest filling with air, preparing to keen her sorrow. The baby didn’t look like she was going to make it, to the aging queen.

You can’t sleep now, Rusith cried out, trembling on the edge of grief. Yours is here or you would have gone sooner. Get up! The dragon turned to bare her teeth toward the candidates that were left, wishing that she knew which one needed to come forward…

[azure]

Opal felt the impression happen. The beautiful hatchling almost the same color as himself gently wove her way into Prinner's mind. She was wonderful!

The little white stood fully erect on Prinner's shoulder and let out a piercing yet still melodic trill that reflected the joy he felt and that was rippling through His person's mind. His gleaming white wings spread open, a pure glimmering white span.

Prinner was amazed and smitten, and protective and overwhelmed and really hungry. It was the most amazing thing that had happened to him since Opal. But this went deeper and wider and yet settled in so easily. Julim had looked like he'd been hit with a club when impression happened, Prinner felt like he was standing on a shore and the breezes were wrapping around him. It was so wonderful.

"HER name is LYCATH" He told the Weyr, his clear tenor voice carrying easily. He was used to yelling above lowing herdbeasts and barking canines. Whispering Weyr folk weren't that different.

By making the traditional announcement he was letting the Weyr know this dragon had a protector and he would be looking out for his dragon. They had best treat her as well as any other hatchling. His stance was both challenging and protective as he looked around and the people and dragons in the stands.

They made a stunning picture, the short but perfectly proportioned and strong boy, the triumphant white flitt and the newly hatched gray with her subtle metallic shimmers.

With Opal making encouraging chirps and trills, P'er started walking Lycath to the food, letting her keep her head hidden in his robe. The extra folds were useful now. He could understand her not wanting to deal with all the eyes, he could feel them too.

Many were leaving them to look toward the Queen though, that was helping. He wished her well, she was going to be an amazing lady given that she had started out by looking after all the clutch mates.

"There will be food over here and then I will finish cleaning you up, you beautiful girl."

He could feel her disagreement, she didn't think she was beautiful. He did though, and he could let her feel it. How wonderful was that? She had all the beauty of a green and then her own beautiful color too. He had the best looking flitt and dragon in the Weyr!

Who knew life could be so great? He couldn't wait to get his hands on her to confirm what his eyes were telling him. It looked like her lines and proportions were things of beauty.

[Snow]

Neiram watched anxiously as the little gold cleaned the gray. She worried that the baby wasn’t okay, but then it began to slowly creep across the sands and it looked a lot cleaner. It wasn’t really all gray, but it seemed like a mix of both gray and silver. The cute thing crept close to her and for a second Neiram thought perhaps that she was going to impress, but no, the gray kept going towards till it reached Prinner.

The ecstatic candidate announced the baby’s name. Lycath. ”She is beautiful, Prinner congradulations!” Neiram said to him, clapping happily. That meant there was only one baby left, the gold. She turned and saw that the gold had slumped to the sands and Rusith seemed angry. Great, now what was going to go wrong?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eavan had smiled slightly when the gray/silver finally started to move towards the last of the candidates. However, she didn’t watch long enough to see her pass Neiram to impress to Prinner. Eavan was moving towards the gold. Even if the gold wasn’t to be hers, she wasn’t going to let the baby die from exhaustion.

Rusith was bearing her teeth at them, but Eavan wasn’t afraid. She walked right up to the small gold and knelt in front of her. A part of her felt bad for being so unorthodox. She’d always been taught that the candidates were never to presume that a hatchling wanted them until impression had occurred, so it was best for them to not approach the dragons unless it was obvious impression was going to happen. This situation was a bit different since a gold’s life hung in the balance.

”Hey, sweetling, you can’t sleep now. You need to eat and you need to pick your rider. You’re strong, very strong. After all you’ve done here to help your clutch mates you can’t give up. You’re going to be a marvelous queen, a true leader that the weyr is going to depend on, but you just got to do a couple things before that can happen. Now get up little queen, don’t make me carry you.” Her voice was comprised of concern and respect, but it was also a bit bossy. Eavan couldn’t stop her eyes from misting up a bit at seeing the little gold in such bad shape.

[weetia]

J'lin watched worriedly through the fight, especially when the two boys defied all reason and jumped in. It made a little more sense when the two boys Impressed the two dragonets, though, and he wondered if they had known on some level. That blue was going to be a handful; hopefully the boy could refocus that aggression on Thread instead of his clutchmates.

Then two sport dragonets became visible. Two in one clutch! And an oversized brown, a tiny gold, and a vicious fight. J'lin was really watching the tiny queen now, because these oddities could be handled, really, but if she didn't Impress, then the entire Hatching would be shrouded in grief, and really, the two odd dragons would probably be treated worse because of superstition.

The Impressions weren't really surprising, though multicolored dragon's trip between on the sands was terrifying. He knew the weyrlingmaster would probably agree that is was still frightening even though the dragon obviously survived. Going between untrained and while still on the ground definitely should not become a habit.

It certainly seemed appropriate that Prinner got the gray to go with his white flitter. It was good that the little one had hatched on its own, unlike the white everyone had heard of from centuries ago. He was a little surprised when the boy announced her name though, that she was a girl. He just hoped she didn't end up clutching with the bismuth dragon. That imaginary clutch would be too interesting.

And still the gold had not chosen anyone. Surely her girl was here? Portenth was rumbling more than humming now, the worry and excitement of the Hatching making his vibration more ragged. Geena had her tail wrapped so tightly around his neck that he though she might end up choking him, and she was making an encouraging croon that the gold couldn't possible hear from so far away, seeming to understand the the large (to her) baby was in trouble.

I don't understand why she isn't choosing, the bronze sent in a whisper tone to his rider. At least one of the girls is good enough for her, I know she is. And the other one might be too. She just needs to choose.

Silently, J'lin stroked his bronze's neck, feeling the tension mount. Sunset needed that gold, especially after such an odd Hatching.

[Sher]

At first, Eavan's voice didn't seem to have much affect. But as she spoke on, the Tidal Gold opened her eyes; eyes that brightened as she looked up at the young woman, though for the moment she still lay prone. The longer Eavan spoke, the more alert the Tidal Gold became, then the hatchling sat carefully up to lean her forehead tiredly against Eavan's cheek, drawing strength and comfort. The movement couldn't hide the brilliance of molten rainbows multiplying in the facets. The girl's moist eyes had not been lost on the little gold, or how right her presence felt.

You might just have to carry me anyway,[/i] the Tidal Gold mumbled ruefully. I'm so tired, Mine. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Your Irieth waited for you... almost too long.[/i]

Irieth, theTidal

Color: Gold
Final Size: 42’ long
Optional Theme Songs: "Undertow” (Ivy) / “Anywhere” (Evanescence)

Appearance:
Irieth is a chubby little thing at first, but compactly built. As she matures, her slender bones become more prominent, though a misleading softness will tend to round her shoulders, abdomen, and flanks. Her movements are dainty on the ground, if not in the air. Color-wise, a liquid, buttery gold ripples over the lighter sunshine color. The darkest areas are three of her feet, almost seeming to be dipped in honey. It’s her right hind leg that wears no sock. Irieth’s wings are actually a bit undersized, both in length and breadth, but shapely for all that. The metallic gleam on her hide isn’t as overwhelming as some golds’ – perhaps she feels the need to make up for it by insisting Hers clean, oil, and buff her up frequently.

[/b]
[li]General -
If patience is a virtue, consider Irieth a saint. She firmly believes that good things come to those who wait- including the time to indulge in gluttony, which is her guilty pleasure. As much as she admires (even idolizes) Coreanth, she expects that one day leadership of the Weyr will fall to her. It is her birthright as Brinleth’s daughter, but she isn’t the type to plot the downfall of an older queen just to orchestrate her own rise to power. Catching anyone else involved in such a scheme will set her off, as inexorable as a tidal wave and, often, as overwhelming. She is a marvelous manipulator and diplomat, being most likely to know who can be persuaded to a proper course, who can be shamed into it, and who must be bullied. She’s essentially kind and good, but willing to do what she must for the greater good. Even stooping to tantrums and displays of aggression if it’s really called-for. There isn’t much that can make her really get upset- being laughed at, being told no, or having to let candidates look at her offspring are a few examples.

To Irieth, the phrase ‘lower colors’ is an oxymoron. Like with humans, every dragon brings a unique mixture of talents to the proverbial table, and all of them have a place at her side. She is perceptive enough (or perhaps just optimistic enough) to see the good hidden in anyone; being aware of the abilities of others give her an advantage when delegating responsibility is necessary. The young, old, or injured are usually lucky enough to be on the receiving end of her personal protection- but they aren’t the only ones she wants to help. Golds make babies, but Irieth is out to prove that isn’t all they can do, feeling that the reasons for old traditions and superstitions (like the one that says golds don’t chew firestone) should be explored rather than mindlessly accepted. One of her greatest flaws is her fear of heights, something that just might make for an interesting weyrlinghood. Jumping and gliding to hunt is nothing to flinch at; preparing to glide across the Weyrbowl for the first time is nerve-wracking. Who ever heard of a dragon that didn’t want to soar with the clouds?

[/li][li]Reproduction -
Come one, come all, Irieth is quite the little flirt and doesn’t hesitate to spread her affection around. A lot. As in, two males won’t often Catch her in a row. She enjoys turning the tables on them, privately bespeaking each male and light-heartedly leading them on. It wouldn’t be unusual for every male chasing her to believe that she was about to Choose him and leave the others begging. Her legendary patience sometimes deserts her, and the hunters become the hunted as she whirls to pounce the one she selects. Luckily for Eavan, she does care how Hers feels about the riders of male dragons, and won’t select the mindmate of someone Hers hates. At least, not often. Being egg-heavy, and eventually brooding over her clutch, even presiding over a Touching definitely agree with the little gold; the hard part is when her offspring leave their eggs. Candidates that were formerly pleasant to be around become dangerous, sinister-seeming individuals; the slightest hint of inappropriate behavior will have Irieth expelling them to the Stands.
[/li][li]Threadfall -
Irieth wants nothing to do with Threadfighting itself, not even as part of a queen’s wing. She’d rather help with the really important parts- saving the injured from further damage, organizing replacement shifts for the smaller dragons that can’t make it through an entire ‘fall, even packing heavy loads of firestone to the resupply lines. Flamethrowers aren’t to be trusted- they don’t have the best aim. Once she has learned to cope with her fear of heights, it’s like Irieth’s weyrlinghood begins all over again. It will take a lot of work before she’s ready to take Thread head-on though.
[/li][li]The Bond -
Irieth sees Eavan’s maturity and poise as qualities to live up to. She admires the young woman’s strengths, and forgives her weaknesses, fully expecting reciprocation- and when the time comes, the agreement to keep secrets for a change. She doesn’t want to be worshipped, but she needs to be loved. Sharing Eavan is mostly out of the question- unless she approves the match, anyway.[/li][/ul]

---

Rusith felt limp with relief that it was all over. She wanted nothing more than to go curl up inside her weyr and sleep it off; Kadia wholeheartedly agreed, even if it wasn't as plausible for her as for the aging gold. How about you go rest, she suggested. I've got to attend the Feast, even if I don't feel like it. The gold shrugged her consent.

With no more hatchlings on the Sands, those that had not Impressed were making their way out of the Hatching Cavern and toward the hastily-prepared breakfast Feast. The Stands were nearly empty, but a few upset individuals made a point of leaving together. Something had to be done about those mutant freaks. If the goldriders wouldn't see to it, then they would.

[Snow]

Eavan had her breath held as she watched the little gold. She opened her eyes, but still didn’t want to get up. Then, to her relief, the little gold managed to sit herself upright. Normally, Eavan would have been shocked to have the little gold rest her head against her cheek, but she was so relieved that the queen hadn’t just given up. Tenderly she wrapped her arms around the gold’s neck. If she could have given the gold her own strength she would have. Tears fell unchecked and unremorseful down Eavan’s cheeks now.

”You might just have to carry me anyway,” Eavan heard in her head. The voice seemed so weak. ” I'm so tired, Mine. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Your Irieth waited for you... almost too long.”

More tears began to fall, but a smile spread over Eavan’s lips. Once again the smell of salty air crept into her senses. ”I know you did, my silly love, though I love you all the more for it.” ”Her name is Irieth.” She announced, though only those closest to them could hear. The little gold, tiny she might be for a queen, was absolutely perfect, from her chubby body to the way she had so unselfishly made sure all the other dragons had hatched well. Eavan could feel how tired and hungry Irieth was. She herself was exhausted from everything that happened, but none of that mattered now. All that mattered was Irieth and she knew that was how it was always going to be.

Eavan stood up and then reached down and picked up her queen. Though, she was small a baby dragon was in no way light, but Eavan managed. ”Eavan, I feel silly, but I truthfully don’t think I have the strength to walk. Has all my clutch mates been fed?” Irieth said, though she didn’t struggle against being held.

”I promise you don’t look silly. Your clutch mates are all fine and with their riders. Now it’s my turn to look after you. Once you have some food in your belly you’ll feel better and if you want we can stay in the sands long enough for you to get enough strength to walk out for yourself.” Eavan said as she made her way to where the pails of meat were. ”I would really appreciate that, mine.” Irieth replied, but she was still so exhausted it was almost too hard for her to speak.

Eavan got a pail of meat and immediately began given small pieces to Irieth. At first it seemed like even eating was too much work for the queen, but then piece by piece she began to seem a bit more energetic. In between chewing, Eavan managed to clean her up a bit making her buttery hide shine magnificently. Those who hadn’t impressed were moving off the sands to go to the feast. Evan absently realized that Neiram hadn’t impressed, but knew that the young girl still had many opportunities. Right now Irieth took up most if not all of Eavan’s focus, though somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that there could be problems later with some folk. The mutants as healthy as they seemed to be, were likely to rub some of the hidebound oldtimers the wrong way. She hoped none of them would start anything right after the hatching, but she would prepare for it anyways.