Lyrianna - Tuesday, July 23, 2002, 12:09 AM
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Hatching Grounds **BROADCASTING**
The heat here is stifling, encompassing, swallowing mind and hazing sight into waved oblivion. Sparkling, coarse black sand simmers with volcanic urgency underfoot, its hillocks and dunes arranged to queen's liking; reflected light filters in, offered no even perceived respite. When empty, the vault of this cavern is hushed, still that echoes and rebounds; when occupied, it is intensified. Latest clutch dominates the view -- a veritable garden of eggs, separated into the two distinct clutches of Ista's newest queen and her pale mother. Sands are cordoned off with invisible lines as each golden mother carefully guards her clutch; Older queen's strange pattern of eggs is somewhat visible from around her watchful form. Every sound resounds twicefold as loud as was intended.
Gold Dhiammarath, gold Miyakath, and bronze Nverath are here.
You see Dark Side of the Moon Egg, Footprints on the Moon Egg, Ringed Gaseous Giant Egg, Moons of Saturn Egg, Spiral Galaxy Egg, Inescapable Darkness Egg, Planet X Egg, Cosmic Frequency Egg, Industrial Flotsam Egg, RunnersHead Nebula Egg, Coming of the Asteroid Egg, Celestial Infant Egg, Rip in Time and Space Egg, and Andromeda Galaxy Egg here.
M'er, Trimaka, Sobi, Jalir, Serafa, and Brid are here.
Sobi sidles onto the sands with what she imagines would be an understandable sort of awe painted apon her features, swiping the cuff of her tunic across her brow, wiping away the already prominent beads of sweat which have since displayed themselves apon her skin. Sweltering, quite, as the sands were expected to be. And no matter /how/ many times one may visit them, she'd imagine the heat could never be borne by a single person quite as well as the dragons bear it.
Serafa remembers the sands, the heat and the grumpy mother, or in this case mothers. Breathing deeply she gathers herself into a reasonably graceful bow to Dhiammarath, Miyakath, and of course Nverath. Straightening her eyes search the face of the rider, waiting for permission to explore the marvelously dark clutch displayed upon the sands.
M'er leads the gaggle of Candidate out, marching as if he were the most important person in the Weyr. He grins as he stops and steps to the side. His expression flickers with a bit of nostalgia before he turns to face the Candidates. "Now, there are rules, of course. You can't be noisy. You have to be gentle, and all. Be respectful to the clutch parents. If a gold seems a bit miffed that you're touching a certain egg, step away from it and find another. So far, I can only see that Dhiammarath is protective of that one," He points out the Planet X Egg, "But I haven't watched enough to know everything for sure. Otherwise, have fun! Touch as many as you can!"
"Shardit, I's hot.." Mak worbled along the entrance, squishing the sand under her feet like wet cement with a bemused simper whilst her head was tucked into her chin and oculars face down on the ground. Ambling after Jalir, she took her feet and planted them firm for a moment at that low rumble, almost a hum, that was sounded from the present creatures. Her eyes slowly took placement in a slow-moving fashion, arching her head the following moment and leaving her mouth open and ajar. Catching flies, Mak? Nah. Just somewhat...caught in the moment. A whistle is all that comes out from her for a moment, "Shards, Jal...They're -huoooge- up close.."
Lyrianna edges onto the sands, Radnazak draped over her neck like a scarf or something. Feet are shifted around in slight discomfort as the dragons are eyed, the former starlet perking up a bit at the prospect of a touching. "Why d'ya think they get protective over certain eggs?" asks Lyri absently as she edges in the direction of the Moons of Saturn Egg. "Mmhm...They are understandably large," is a mumble towards Maka.
Jalir lumbers across the sands - mysteriously, it seems everything but her feet are affected by the shimmering heat rising from the sands. That's what a good pair of boots'll do for you, doncha know. Trailing the group rather steadily, she comes to a halt at the sight of two looming golds so.... very near (perhaps causing a mild crash with Maka. Whoo). Lyrianna's query, if a bit rehtorical, draws a purse of lips from the girl, and she cautions a reply, "Dunno, really. They're.... dragons." Good Lir. Observent 'Lir.
And guess who's also awake? Miyakath's head slowly lifts..as..people come out onto the sands. o.o Gasp. Eeeeeek! An initial moment of overprotective momminess causes the large gold to curl around her eggs, rumbling lowly. Who let /them/ in here? Wait.. Ohhhhh! So they've finally brought her sacrifices, right? Of course they did..silly her. Now..which one to munch first..so many to choose from! Much..much more calmly, the gold uncurls, a faint purr in the queen's throat as she surveys her sna----erm..the candidates. Yes.
Brid may be from Southern, but it's been a few too many turns north for her to not be minded by the heat. Sureptitiously wiping her face with her sleeve she nods to everyone else's assessement. "Yes, it's hot..." And her face glows with it already.
Trimaka's head is bobbed coyishly towards M'er's rules before bending from the middle down. Her ungainly attempt at producing a bow faultered into a somewhat stumble when hitting the back of Jalir, using her hand once more to give a faultering flick of wrist, and then she properly bows, "If'n Ya' dun' mind, Ladies, I'm'a just gunna' ...go and inspect your purt'tay eggs. S'right?" A blink is offered towards Jal with a gentle crack to her arm with a coarse whisper, "Gaha! Dragon's they is, Jaaaaal. And Early lunch could we be.."
Sobi studies the shelled-in creatures...namely eggs...with a critical eye, turning that same critical eye toward the towering Dhiammarath with concern, trepidation, and a hint of pent-up excitement visable within the depths of her glowing eyes. She turns toward a nearby egg, swiping her brow once again before squaring her narrow shoulders and approaching the smooth, emerald and sunset orange combination with tilted head and flexed fingers, wiping them neatly apon her tunic before spinning, delicately bowing toward Dhia, and querying, "May I?" She's not about to desecrate something Dhia isn't wanting her to touch...
"I don't know," M'er tells Lyrianna, pondering why certain eggs get all of the attention. He shrugs, finally. "Who's to know? Dragons might be able to sense something. Suith personally likes that one, over there, that Miyakath clutched," the Andromeda Galaxy Egg is pointed out, and the greenrider smirks, "Sui says she wants it to hatch a beautiful green so she can be an aunt." THe green doesn't comprehend that she's auntie to half the eggs out here, no matter what. But, after all, when did dragon families matter? "Yes, yes..." he then tells the Candidates, as a whole, "Be nice and polite and respectful."
Jalir nosewrinkles at Trimaka's low quip, arms clasping over her torso in a protective gesture. Tossing a forelock - already damp with a salty sweat - from her murky eyes, the girl steps forth. One heroic step. And then another! And she faces the two queens, fumbling into a bow-curtsey that turns out to be more of an ungainly bob, if anything. An ungainly bob of utmost respect for you, ladies. Taking a second to gather herself, the stocky girl approaches the nearest egg- a gaudy thing, full of colorful spots and celestial streaks.
Serafa is practically Istan, a faint sheen of perspiration beeds upon her caramel forehead, but that is all that she is discomforted by the heat. Treading carefully she regards all the eggs as a whole before focusing upon the Celestial Infant Egg and making her way closer, but alas her destination is not to be as she spots Sobi step in front of it. Side-stepping slightly she decides that Andromeda Galaxy Egg was her original destination anyway. Bowing once more at the stirring mother she reaches caramel fingers out to trace the closest river of stars.
Trimaka worbles on after towards just a few patch of eggs, her eyes locked on the hued orange and green tinted egg -- Celestial Infant -- Mak sniffs at the egg before her, sympathetic; poor dear, not able to escape. "Aw, Jal - Jal, this 'un is saaaad. Why is it sad?" Not that the other Candidate will necessarily know, but afterall, Jal is the almighty wise one of the Candi's that she asks for odd questions. Candidate pauses briefly in her egg-feeling to wiggle her fingers in Brids direction. "Hihihiiiiiiiii! -- oh, pretty egg!" White-knot spots Coming of the Asteroid egg and journeys in that direction, hand extending to rest precariously on its shell. Maybe not as cute, but certainly pretty.
Lyrianna steps back a foot or so at Miyakath's rumbles, then gives a small bow to the golds,"Good evening, Miyakath, Dhiammarath," is said with surprising calm manners. M'er's response earns a raise of her eyebrow,"Fascinating." Lyri rolls her eyes as she boldly makes her way past Trimaka,"Oh goodness, you. You'll be fine," mutters the younger candidate as she finds herself in front of the Moons of Saturn Egg, tracing a pair of fingers around the orbs colouring its shell.
Moons of Saturn Egg
Thick coils of obsidian black retain a wealth of colorful orbs, each seeming as fragile balls in a sea of unforgiving ink. The largest is a Titan in its own right, overbearing its kin with a barren wantonness, dominating the ovoid with its smoggy skin of yellow oxide. The sphere seems to pulse with a hypnotic gold, proving it is not about to be eclipsed. Affixed around the edges, banished from the nucleus, are lesser giants that glow with a borrowed sheen. This Hyperion that looks strangely askew battles for control on its path to empty oblivion. More satellites stake their claim in the opaque black velvet, most with surfaces riddled with marks of impact and all with the patient immortality of austere sentries.
Sobi breathes a sigh of relief as Dhia seems not to object- at least, not /yet/, and nods brightly at Serafa, before stepping a wee bit closer to her destination and reaching out tenative fingertips to grace the pleasantly warm, and slightly soft surface. A peculiar expression, thoughtfulness mixed with imagination and...perhaps heat-stroke...crosses over her face as she examines the blindingly white spot at the zenith of this particular, nearly globe-like, creation. "Amazingly bright," She comments, and allows her fingers to brush over that spot only briefly, before stepping to a distance and giving it a final examination. She moves on, intent on another bright and curious result of dragon-love.
Brid nods to the rider, and bows to the queens. Even though she saw both hatched and knows they don't 'normally' hurt people, this egg thing has to be different. Once oblige is offered, she heads carefully to her personal favorite, the one that calls to her, pulling her in.. yea, that one.
Mak is not as awed by the Coming of the Asteroid egg as the previous one -- Rip in Time Egg -- but still revels in the sweeping tranquility she is suddenly suffused in. "Wooooo," candidate drawls, dazedly, warily inching her hand away from the egg. Erp. Next, fingers skitter across the Dark side of the Moon egg , tracing patternless abstracts across the shell. A blank look of expression is offered Lyrianna's way, smudging her brows into a crease, "Aw, Y'don't understand how excited I am, Lyyy! Lookit'! 'Ave Ya' seen anything -like- this before?" Obviously, Mak hasn't.
Jalir presses a tentative palm to the warm surface of the Moons of Saturn egg, drawing back minimally at the sensation she's rewarded with. "'S'like... hard leather," she rumbles to a nearby white-knotter, "But alive, y'know?" She appears perplexed by this, brow furrowing over eyes intent on the ovoid's surface. Feigning a 'shush' gesture to Trimaka, 'Lir traipses on. Many more eggs to grope.
Serafa takes her time exploring the speckled but dark curving side of the Galaxy egg before stepping back and moving on to the now deserted Celestial Infant Egg. with no hesitation her fingers reach out to caress the clashing colors of the leathery shell with something akin to awe.
Lyrianna lets a smile cross her face as she wanders over towards the Industrial Flotsam egg,"Yeah...Leathery." All pretty night-sky blueness. The starlet reaches out to gingerly place a hand on the misty metallic splotch on the egg. "Well, no, I haven't really," she mumbles towards Mak, although it seems that inspecting of the eggs seems to look a lot like the night skies. And so she passes on to another egg.
Industrial Flotsam Egg
A shade bluer than black, languid velvet folds drift, rivulets shimmying over the uneven slopes of the egg to laze in pools of liquid darkness. Against the backdrop of ebon curtains, a distant whorl phases into view, the veritable mist of metallic particles drifting, bobbing, and free-falling ever closer to the orbs matte surface. It would seem that some of these particles have reached the outer limits of their ovoid world- the surface of the egg, itself, is coated in dings and dents of all shapes and sizes. Near the eggshells tapering end, a rusted bolt cruises into view, various royal shimmers underlying its dingy surface. Close behind it hovers a sluggishly gyrating sheet of metal, reflecting the glare of some unseen star for one ephemeral moment before receding into the darkness once more.
Sobi bestows another respectable bow-at-the-waist apon the Dhiammarath, sleeves of her tunic swaying gently, as does her lengthy, dangling braid, before she straightens and begins to steadily move toward a curved presence which is incredibly close, she muses, to the color of her blood as it had dripped from the wound she'd recieved during a swim, several turns past. Gold catches the surrounding light, and refects heat nicely, to further warm Sobi's round, and already quite glowing cheeks. She shuffles through the sand surrounding the curious creation, curiously glancing at Dhiammarath before tripping her fingertips over the slight, visable imperfection- a slight bump- in the shell. "This one seems a bit larger than the rest...as in, it's contents must be a bit more eager to get out," She comments. "Perhaps he...or she...wants their head to be ready to explode into the dawn...or the like," She comments.
Brid wending fingers against smooth, surprisingly cool shell, hard, but still leathery.. she sighs. Sucked in yet again to the egg and it's possible life within.. what color does this one hide, would you guess? Slowly she moves away and finds herself by Dark Side, and a smile creases across her face, this one is dark and mysterious, a blue? may hide here, eh?
M'er tilts his head forward to make sure the Candidates are on their best behavior. He drawls in for a closer look, bowing briefly at the dragons, and grinning up at them. He peers back to the eggs. "Interesting clutch this time," he randomly notes. His Suith's egg was a lot prettier, though. Figures.
Struggling to muffle a sneeze, Jalir continues her journey through the gardens of eggs, winding through the proveribal maze of Dhiammarath's oddly-arranged clutch. A touch here, a stroke there. A subtle snort at a few of the garishly decorated eggs - things like that shouldn't be allowed to occur in nature! - when, out of the corner of her jade-hued eye, 'Lir spots a smooth surface. A smooth, marbled grey and brown surface. She approaches Footprints on the Moon egg with an air of awe.
Trimaka's hand starts to itch too, as though begging to reach out and press, in sequence, certain points along the eggs. She stumbles in a light gallop, slowing down afterwards, before falling upon both leathered knees with a squeak. A curious glance of inquiry is tossed towards the two protective mothers, grinning about with an appologetic look for touching them, "Aw, I'm almost done, Ladies. Jus' a few more, If'n Ya' let me'. Then I'll leave 'um 'lone..Candi's honor." A faultering flick of wrist, and the white-knot goes back to examining the oval-shapped look-alike-to-rocks. Yes. Mak ...talking to dragons? Of course. And She talks to the eggs, also! The Tomboy now turned girly on the sands squeaking and trying to keep quiet with utter delight and satisfaction. Follow those Footprints on the Moon!
Sobi circles this egg, still enthralled with it's deep crimson coloring- almost throbbing, she imagines, as blood-red shell resembles the pumping of the lifeblood contained within the creature /within/ this egg. "I bet it's eager," She breathes, resting her palm upon the surface. "And it's such a marvelous golden-auburn, almost, when the light hits it just /right/...it's almost...more jewel than living creature..." She trails off, and with a sigh of reluctance, plods away from the RunnersHead egg, allowing more curious eyes to pour on around it.
Lyrianna doesn't see how anything could be prettier than this clutch of eggs. They so resemble what pulled her towards her craft. Or temporarily former craft. Rip in Time egg is given a soft stroke as she watches Maka out of the corner of her eyes. It's fun to see her like this. Must write that down for future reference. But for now her attention is focused on the eggs as she peers at the dim purples spotting the blackness.
Rip in Time and Space Egg
The surface of this shell reflects the unfathomable vast of space, blacker than the human eye can comprehend, seeming to be a split in space and time itself. Terror of the skies of space lies the black hole, color sucked out of nothingness. Deep hues of purple swirl around the innermost circumference of the black hole, dotting the beginning of a plunge into the unknown. Cavernous blues churn around the outermost regions of the space tornado in a billowing dance. Unfortunate stars amidst the blues and purples are dim, their glow faded in despair as they slowly descend into nothingness. The only bright light in the vast lands of desolation is an old sun, slowly being pulled into the tide. It gives off its last hope of life as it's tugged into the gloom. The blackness of this perfectly round egg pulls in the viewers as would the black hole pull in its victims, trapping them in its shadows.
"Try to touch as many as you can," M'er notes to the roaming Candidates. "Touchings are important. You should try to get the feel of as many eggs as you can, but don't upset the clutch parents." So, the rider goes back to lurking.
Serafa lifts her fingers gently away from the side of the Infant egg with a little sigh. Retracing her footsteps she steps towards the Cosmic Frequency Egg the jangling wiggle of so many colors capturing her attention for a time, fingers tracing the almost shapes formed by the individual tracks.
Brid pulls away from the dark side and heads to the streaked red and gold blended egg next. Runnershead Nebula is approached, almost with awe, the colors capture the eye and the pattern is discerned in the shell. Small hands smooth away imagined roughness and odd bumps and bulges are noted and learned. But then, movement is seen from the corner of her eye and another egg is spied, time to inspect Spiral with all the swirls coating it's shell.
Everyone's keeping watch on her. Don't worry! She isn't going to steal them in her pockets and cook them in the Kicthens! ..... ..... Not Today, at least. The thrill that passes under her touch demands some sort of answer, as though Mak should comment aloud on the excitement that can be felt... And that is what causes the older candie to pull away. Too busy for her. Mak Reluctantly tears herself away from the puzzle of the Footprints egg, her outward composure inwardly shaken, but intact. "They's so Soft like leather! And round. They's peeety!" is all she says, and that audible.
Sobi pauses in the center of the sands, within an expanse uncluttered by bodies /nor/ eggs, and takes a deep breath, pivoting her body to take in every unexplored container of lifeforce, before squaring her shoulders again, and approaching the intriguing mass that is, perhaps, even darker than her own cot after the glows have been extinguished. This egg possesses a certain mystique that draws her in, as she brings up pale fingers- much paler now, against the moon-deprived-night surface of this egg. Her hand seems all too bright, perhaps, as if Rukbat claiming it's chance to be seen against the independent evening sky. The Inescapable Darkness might be too much, and her hand remains, resting gently, against the hardened shell.
Jalir hunches over the Footprints egg, fingertips grazing its too-smooth curves and dallying along the darker, marbled hues. She'd sit on the sands if there weren't a risk of scorching her sorry behind, really, so, for now, a rather awkward crouch must suffice for her doings. Ruddy hand pressed flat against the grayish shell, a sigh escapes, low and whuffling. So plain. So practical. So much like a dear mule she left behind.
.
M'er glances over to Trimaka, and presses his finger to his lips to signal her to be quieter.
Lyrianna finds her way over to the Spiral Galaxy egg, smirking as she touches it. This is the one with the bet on it, right? Blue? Or was it green... "C'mon, win me an eighth mark eggy," mumbles the candi under her breath for only her to hear, then passes on to the Coming of the Asteroid egg, letting her palm fall onto the warm egg.
Sobi gazes at the blackened egg, pondering silently before turning her head toward Dhiammarath, and stating a single question, simply. "How is it that he...or she...gets light? I imagine the membrane allows /something/ through. But this one," And her fingers, palm, heel of her hand...all linger momentarily apon the shell as she continues speaking. "This one seems like it's deprived of /everything/...even with those /small/ white...spots." She's spoken this all in one rushed, gentle whisper, unsure even if the massive creature can /understand/...and seeming to realize that it's really no difference. "I suppose you'd know best, anyhow...if you're not concerned, then it must be fine." She's accepting, as much so as can be, and heads back onto the bared sands, smiling eagerly at others who filter through. Egg-touching...leggo my eggo...or, rather, Dhia's eggo.
Serafa abandons Cosmic Frequency to fate as she steps away once more. Klah-brown eyes drink in the details of Planet X from afar, the healerite unprepared to incur the wrath of the mothers at this point in time. With a wistful sigh she saunters ever onwards, fingers reaching eagerly for the cream and russet sides of Ringed Gaseous Giant Egg. Her body visibly relaxing once she has made contact.
Brid sighs as she meanders away from the spiralled egg and makes her way to the deep blue enamalled look of the Asteroid egg. The bright splatters of color enhance the deepness, making it the egg of a strong and bright dragon.. bronze maybe? And then she moves away, on to sands, she steps away for a minute, puzzling out the secret pattern and the secret to the little Planet X egg. "Odd.." is mumbled before finding her way to Serafa's abandoned Cosmic egg.
Jalir reluctantly tears her attentions from the Footprint-egg's dull surface, hand pressing to her thigh to disperse a bit of the appendage's newly-gained heat. Sidling a glance as she retreats - it's still there, yes - she turns her gaze and intentions to a couple of the more forboding lumps on the sands. Skirting warily for a second or two, she studies Ringed Gaseous Giant, then Coming of the Asteroid, knuckles running ever-so-lightly over their maddening surfaces. Brid's mumble in regards to the Planet X egg don't go unnoticed, though Lir simply quirks a 'brow, continuing through her browsing plight.
M'er is quite amused. "The fact that they aren't allowed to touch it makes them curious, they /want/ to touch it," the rider murmurs to no one, his brilliant sapphire eyes following the movement of the Candies. "Remember, no touchie," he points out, again, almost tossing bait at the Candidates as he points to the Planet X Egg.
Another couple of steps brings Mak closer to the Spiral Galaxy Egg and its odd configuration of patterns. Almond oculars narrow as she steps up to kneel beside it for a closer look, head tilting to examine it from every angle before she finally reaches out to caress it lightly with her fingertips. M'er's warning made her shoulders hunch over slighty, poising her mouth in a slow, non-verbal appology with a mouthed, 'Sorries..' -- But ever onwards. Mak's common sense seems to be dullened by excitement; gleefull and undoubtly the only time you'll hear her squeak. Looking perturbed with the results of her most recent foray into the world of prettily-colored eggs, Mak slinks back into dark-is-yummy mode, wriggling through a few other candidates in order to get at Inescapable Darkness Egg. Yondaran is though of and mocked, "Dark are you, and You are dark, Young one."
Lyrianna traces her way from egg to egg, mumbling something or other about constellations and similarities and egg patterns and...The girl nearly bumps into the Andromeda. Lyri stops mere inched away from the egg. Nose-to-egg, just about, then decides to reach out, caressing the stars on the egg. "You want what you can't have," is Lyri's mystical comment,"Didn't you notice when you tell someone not to do something, they want to even more?" Human curiosity. Silly thing.
Andromeda Galaxy Egg
Star-studded blackness delineates the base of this ovoid, folds of night-sky velvet sweeping up to swathe the egg's surface in its soft caress. Constellations of pinprick stars beautify the smooth curve of shell, but its dark splendor is completely eclipsed by the magnificent spiral of silver gracing the egg's equator. Floods, rivers of stars cascade down each curving arm, radiating out from an almost luminous center; cloudy nebulas, shades of silvered red, yellow, even blue, all are visible within the galaxy's embrace. If one were to look closely enough, one might glimpse near-identical spirals in the egg's remote depths, each seeming to slowly turn, uniting in a vast, eternal cosmic dance to the unheard music of the stars.
Brid isn't wanting to touch Planet X, is wanting to figure out the whole egg-laying pattern. She is sure there is more her then meets the eye. Anyone's eye. But, as she thinks, Rip in Time catches her attention yet again. Slowly, the egg pulls her again to it's side. And don't let anyone say she can't touch it again. Small dark hand reaches out to once again get lost in the view.
Sobi shudders, the memory of her first encounter with Dhiammarath and the cool aqua and stormy-water silver egg still quite fresh within her mind. Her approach hadn't at all been what Dhia had apparently desired.../any/ approach couldn't have been, as the proud- no doubt- mother was seemingly adamant at /no/ one approaching this. She stares for a second and scurries...trembles, scutters, and stumbles eloquently...toward a blackened and beautiously mid-day blue, black-as-night, and watered-pasture-green shell, catching herself enough to make her approach as smooth and delicate as possible. No good /falling/ apon the thing...she imagines the heat from the /sands/ would be enough. Needn't shower it with her own perspiration and quite inadequate body heat. The spiraling surface swims beneath her fingers, and she closes her eyes dizzily. "Quite..." She peers through cracked-open eyelids, noting speckles of color beneath the swirls, and turning a soft, minty green before clenching her eyes shut again. "Quite...as whirling as the eyes of a firelizard...almost," She manages this comment before launching herself, away from the egg, moving as if she were swimming through a tankard full of skinned-over and thick klah. Sloooowly like, and she trundles away.
Serafa drops her finters from the Gaseous Giant and comments. "My marks say that's a brown at the very least." She murmurs her voice sounding funny after her extended slience. Stepping away she heads towards M'er fingers out-stretched. Pity it wasn't a M'er touching. Anywho. "Thank you for this M'er" She murmurs before bowing dragon-wards. "I have to get to the infirmary now." She explains before making her way off the sands. Any other chore she would have stayed, but infirmary duty is important.
Lyrianna finds herself at the Cosmic egg as she shuffles around the sands, laying a hand on the egg and simply standing with it for a moment. "Iiinteresting," mumbles Lyri as she attempts to think up a way to convey this experience into her journal. Hmm. Radnazak, still around her neck, gives her a rude awakening from her stupor by nipping her ear, Lyri grimacing and pulling away from the egg,"I think Rad is hot."
M'er Touchings would be scary. Really. M'er can be shy (sometimes.) It would be more like 'Keep your fingers /away/ from /there/!!!' He nods as Serafa leave, and offers her a, "Thank you for coming, Seffy." He then peers out over the Candidates, and back to the gold dragons. "Suith tells me that the parents are becoming impatient, so we should be leaving right about now. Don't worry, there will be plenty other Touchings. Now, say bye-bye to your favorite eggs."
Jalir croons in faint curiousity as she passes Industrial Flotsam, the husky note riddled with a tinge of concern for the lumpy egg. Hand reaching in the ever-frequent gesture of light stroking, she gently runs fingers and palm over the jagged edges, gnawing placidly at her lower lip. Dazzled? Intrigued? Her expression is difficult to place as she moves on to the next egg - RunnersHead Nebula - with a slight raise of lip as she recognizes a familiar shape upon it. "See that'un?" she churrs, the affectation of a delicate tone completly lost in her blunt vocalization, "I'll betcha that hatches into some sorta nancing dragun..." She broods for a scant few seconds as the candidate she whispered to gives her a confused look and edges away. Hnf.
Sobi glances backward as she trundles over the mounds of uneven sand, cautious to keep her footing as she inspects the nestled life-vessels.../eggs/...with a tilt of the head, and swervy bow to Dhiammarath. "Gracious of you to allow us to touch them," She speaks, and swerves her eyes over each egg, respectively. /Favorite/, indeed. Who could have a /favorite/...quite like choosing one kidlet over another. She falls into line with the other candidates, and trips away from the sands, swiping her brow one final time.
Lyrianna blinks at her favorite egg so far on the other side of the sands and gives it a slight wave. Byebye. Radnazak is given a pat as she rearranges the ferret around her neck. "Valanth said he doesn't think you taste good, but dragons tastes differ," she whispers furiously to the ferret,"So stay there." A small yawn is supressed as she heads towards the edge of the sands, planning on food and sleep. Yum.
Brid caresse Rip one last time.. Whatever dragon is hidden here is special, and perfect. The shell is so cool and hypnotic.. must she leave it now? Ahh, no need to make either gold angry, with a last sigh, she drops her hand and bows again to the golds, "Thank you Dhiammamath, Miyakath," A slight salute to M'er. "G'night Queens." And she leaves the sands.
On the sands, M'er grins at Lyrianna, remembering Suith's experience with a ferret. He snorts and makes sure the Candidates leave, before traipsing after them.
On the sands, Trimaka strecthes and leans, arching her back to poise herself in the upright position -- Please hoist all your trays, and seat into the upright position for landing! -- M'er is eyed momentarily, before figgers go a wagglin', and Celestial Infant is also deemed a wiggle of fingers at. A ungainly bow from the white-knot once more, and a gesture of wiggling fingers at M'er, and Trimaka squeaks and trips right off those sands, "Thank Ya', /so/ much Ladies for a'lettin' Me see Yer' Eggies. And Touch'um! S'awfully nice o'v ya. I'ma' sure Your Queen-like-eggs will produce adorable.." Pause. Well she can't say little princes and princesses.." ...Uh...Rather adorable Hatchlings!" Now that Mak has made a complete nerd of herself, she'll go be a geek in the barracks again.
