Main Living Cavern
Melodic laughter rings throughout the spacious cavern as riders socialize with one another, boasting of adventures a-dragonback, and gossiping about stodgy wingleaders and sordid affairs. Drudges rush past you, their arms laden with dishes and mugs of Klah, desperate to relieve themselves of their burden while pesky 'lizards inhibit their progress. The light from the glows warmly illuminates the domed cavern and shimmers off the walls as miniscule mineral particles reflect the soft lighting like twinkling stars blanketed in a wintry gray sky.  Numerous tables lie
 scattered across the room, some large enough to hold a whole wing of riders while others were made only for two.  Towards the back, a large hearth breathes soul soothing warmth into weary bodies as its flames dance with hypnotic grace and puppet flickering shadows across the spacious stone stage.
   Sultry, mouth-watering aromas float in from a small archway that leads to a kitchen while chattering can be heard emanating from a narrow passageway.
Flopped atop various perches are Shavid, Caro, Fret, Perdix, Earth Element, Suoh, Hisame, Little Wing, and Elvis.
You see Keg of Telgar Ale, Tiny White Egg, and Kendrel here.
Sulinka, L'ren, and A'ea are here.
 

L'ren grins.  "I couldn't tell you about the eggs.  I do know that Sofi's about four months along, though.  Does that help?"

Sulinka points at Kymra. See there? "There's one right now." O'course I know!

Kymra rushes in, pursued by an outraged weyrbrat.  "I didn't do it!" she shrieks, taking cover behind a table.  "I didn't do it!  Honestly!"

A'ea nods, "Yeah, I guess so--didn't do what, Candidate?"

Sulinka shrugs. "Search me." She pushes her half-empty mug at Kymra, offering, to them, the universal medicine. "Here, Kym. Nice, strong, sweet."

Kymra peeks out from behind a chair, ducking down as the bratling glowers at her.  "I didn't sew his socks closed," she explains.  "I can' barely stitch, let alone *sew.*"

L'ren chuckles.  "Say, that's a new one.  Socks sewn shut."

Nolan moves into Main Living Cavern.

Kymra pivots, glaring in L'ren's direction.  "I didn't do it," she insists, snatching the mug from Sulinka.  "Thanks," she murmers, eyeing the bronzerider's head.  Or, shall we say, target?  Hmmmm.

L'ren winks at Kymra.  "Sometimes, less enthusiastic protests are more convincing."

Sulinka snickers. "Attagirl!" Oops. Official people here. She achems, and snaps her mouth shut to stop the giggles.

A'ea sniffs, intent on something else. "I didn't say they should be punched and poked. I just said the candidates would be scared out of their--good." She smiles oddly. "Oh look...it's candidates. Come here little candidates." Why, why, oh why does she seem so scary?

Kymra springs up from her half-crouch position, swinging back her arm to wham the mug towards L'ren.  A'ea's voice, however, halts her, and she lowers the mug guiltily, klah slopping over the sides.  "Phoo," she mutters.  Person-with-authority could easily get the Candidate in trouble.  Lots of trouble.  Washing socks for the rest of the sevenday trouble.

Sulinka rolls her eyes A'ea-wards, and stands up for fresh klah, inquiring obseqiously. "Something that I can fetch for you, riders?" Eyes flash, and she glares a legendary glare at..the wall.

Marlissa has arrived.
Marlissa wanders in still looking for something..

L'ren chuckles at Sulinka.  "Say, A'ea.  How long do you think this polite Suli will last?"

A'ea shakes her head at Sulinka, "No thanks. Why don't you sit back down? Kymra, come over here. Nolan?" She was sure she saw him. To L'ren, "Oh, probably it'll burn out pretty soon." Literally.

Sulinka grits down on her teeth, hands clenched into white fists at her sides with the effort needed to keep from flying apart. She's in denial. Yup. She sits down in her chair again, looking ready to chew steel.

Marlissa pushes a chair over to the corner where the glowbasket is a n d looks inside...

Kymra slams the mug towards table, remembering to slow the descent before it shatters.  Unfortunately, it skitters and crashes against the floor.  Kymra saunters towards A'ea, expression innocent.  She didn't do it.

A'ea rolls her eyes as several other obeisant candidates wander around. "So, candidates, I hope you've all been looking at the eggs, haven't you?" Who
 hasn't?

"Yeh."  Kymra goes and checks 'em out oh, say, every few candlemarks.  Never know when they might just unexpectedly pop.

Sulinka smiles. "Well, it's better that pulling weeds."

L'ren grins.  "Just wait until you're out on the Sands.  That's much harder on the feet."

A'ea nods slowly. "Well, as candidates you should be exposed closely to the eggs before the hatching. That reduces the risk of injury when the big day comes, because you won't be like frightened and stuff." It'll be hard on her foot if it connects with L'ren's shin.

Aeon saunters, hips asway, into Main Living Cavern.

Sulinka ahs. "I knew there was a reason. Shall we go then?" She jumps up. Maybe she can, like, escape, and not be obeisant anymore.

L'ren always gets beat up on.  Is this anything new?  He was actually pretty shocked to be called 'sir' by a Candidate.  "And there's nothing like being stared at by a large, overprotective parent."  Especially a purple one.

Aeon slips out fro mthe caverns looking distracted. Majorly distracted.

A'ea stands up suddenly, staring at L'ren. Glaring might be better. "Yes, we shall. Do you candidates remember your etiquette lessons? Bow to Aramyth and Taimath /before/ you step on the sands, that's /before/. And listen up sharp when you are there. Now come along..."

Kymra inches closer to the wide-eyed weyrbrat, smirking slightly.  Foot lashes out, and ignorant brat now evesdrops on the floor.  Smiling sweetly, she follows after A'ea.

Hatching Grounds Entrance

A'ea waits for all the candies to group up. "I'm going out first. Remember to bow."

Hatching Sands
Waves of heat hit you like a flash fire as you step onto the sands. After your eyes adjust to the dimmer light, you see what can only be described as a sea of sparkling white sand filling the huge cavern. Along the stone walls that keep the sand in place are a series of drawings showing the history of the cavern. Many talented stone carvers and painters have given life to past hatchings and many other scenes from daily life of the dragon pair. Looking up you see the countless ledges where the dragons greet the newest members to their Weyr with bugles and the galleries where residents, crafters and holders can watch the magical scene of a hatching...
Perched on the rim of the gallery, you see Foghorn.
You see a cot, Aramyth, Taimath, Pyrotechnic Americana Egg, Frost and Hollyberry Egg, Flickering Candlelight Pumpkin Egg, Turnabout Candlelit Egg, Vernal Phoenix Egg, Luck O' the Irish Egg, Laced Hearts Egg, Storming of the Fort Egg, Puffy Pastry Turnover Egg, Summer Sunwheel Egg, Eight Days of Darkness Egg, Mound of Sand Egg, and Friday the Thirteenth Egg here.
Isobel is asleep here.
A'ea and Aeon are here.
 
Sulinka has arrived.

Aeon is distracted, but she does remember to bow, just before tilting out onto the sands.

Sulinka bows to Aramyth respectfully, and the Taimath, before she hops out onto the sands.

Sidhe has arrived.

Taimath turns his head towards the candidates, and resignedly scrapes up a couple dozen eggs for public viewing and consumption. The rest he...sits on. Or covers with his oversized wings.

A slight grin on her face, Kymra bows towards Aramyth and Taimath first, then slips onto the sands.

Sulinka smiles. "Howdedo, Taimath, Aramyth?" Her head turns towards A'ea, expecting the answer, before she goes back to staring hungrily at the eggs.

A'ea giggles a bit, "Taimath says he's doing fine." He actually said there was sand getting up his tail, but hey. "All right, guys, let's go over and look at this egg. You see how it's still rather leathery? Yes, yes, crowd around and touch it, but gently."

Sidhe scoots in, a bit behind, but oh well. Aramyth and Taimath get 100% genuine head-bobs of something akin to respect before she blends into the back of the crowd.

Faeryl has arrived.

Aeon shuffles along behind A'ea, yawning. Must've been up all night.

Sulinka hmms, and stretches out one fingertip, stroking the surface of the egg delicately as she weaves from foot to foot absently. "Strange feeling"

Faeryl peeks out on the sands with a nervous look.  Bow is offered the adult dragons as she waves at A'ea.

Kymra bounces towards the egg, tentatively putting out a finger a touch the egg. "It's not hard!" she exclaims softly.  How observative.

Maeseryn has arrived.

The long arm of the law - that's Sidhe's - reaches out to place fingertips on the leathered surface. "Brilliant deduction," she agrees as she herself notes the soft, puncturable surface.

Faeryl wanders in a little closer, still not sure they belong out here yet.  "A'ea?"

Try it and weep. A'ea nods inclusively to Fae and Maes, "Come on, squeeze in. As you can see, thank you Sidhe, this egg is rather leathery. It still has a few sevendays to go before it hatches."

Taimath hovers over the egg, his big purple head getting in everyone's way.

Maeseryn looks around at the eggs, managing to repress a bit of awe. "Good think, I'm hardly attired fer th'occasion."

Faeryl inches closer now taken by the beauty in the sands. Hands go out to touch those rather well dressed orbs.

Maeseryn bends at the waist a fraction. "G'day t'ye, parents of these wonderous eggs." Thick enough, ya think?

Aeon smiles absently as she caresses the leathery orb before her....

A'ea adds pompously, "A couple of sevendays before they hatch, the eggs will start to show striations, or stretch marks, as the hatchling grows too big to fit in it. Right now, the hatchling's about half the size of the egg, and all curled over itself."

Sidhe taps her lips and poses another thoughtful thought. "And they'll be rock hard by that time, right?" So any puncturing would have to take place between now and then. Preferably closer to now. "How thick /is/ that shell?"

Faeryl drops to her knees careless of the hot, near scalding sands and reaches for one shimmery green egg.  "We can touch?"

Sulinka caresses the egg lightly with one finger, moving the entire vertical length up and down, before removing her finger. Down, Sidhe.

A'ea nods to Sidhe, "When they're rock hard, it's easier for the hatchling to break out from inside. Yes, you can touch, but stay close enough to hear me. The shell's thickness differs from egg to egg, and most of them are probably about as thick as Maes's pinky."

Sulinka hmms, eyes alight with laughter. "That thick, hey?"

Kymra gently pokes at the egg's leathery surface again.  "How many eggs can we touch?" she wonders, adding, "Or does that matter?"  Leaving the egg's side, she peers at its various future clutchmates, attempting to decide on a favorite.

Maeseryn looks at his pinky. "I'd worry iffin they'd be thick as m'aunt's. Her's be bigger'n mine."

A'ea adds, deadpan, "Most are a little thinner. You can touch as many as you want and Taimath will let you. Don't force the issue."

Faeryl nodnods at the conversation around her as her fingers trace the delicate design on this egg.  Almost calls her... home.

Maeseryn winks at the brown clutchdaddy as he says, "Ye mean we don't hafta armwrestle fer th'honor?"

A'ea shakes her head, "Nope. Don't want you to hurt Taimath's arm." Tease, tease.

Sidhe rolls her eyes good-humoredly and wanders a little bit off, circling the darker members of the clutch.

Kymra wrinkles her nose.  She don't wanna wrestle with any dragon.  Prolly end up squashed.  Stepping towards a bluish black egg, she carefully reaches out a hand to caress the side.

Sulinka makes a beeline Sidhe-wards, sharing her interest in the darker side of the Force. "Sidhe, wait up! Wanna show you something!"

Thick, misty blues dampen the background, their shrouding depths swirling through dusk's shadows.  Light beams scatter across the surface, single flare of light flashing intermittently beneath Rukbat's glare, beacon's solace. But from a distance, the pattern becomes more distinct; four lights in one row, four in another. And one burning brightly above, a symbol of triumph.
Eight Days of Darkness Egg is 0 days old.

A'ea winces at Sulinka, "Don't run! Walk slowly and be careful of the eggs."

Dark for once triumphs over light, shadows engulfing a mottled lazuli spheroid in winter's dank and drowsy pall. Sunlight lurks limpid on brilliant azure beneath, escaping in brief sparks of freedom, flashing into a thousand candles that sputter off into the dusk: midnight claws slide heedless of heat between gilded flame flecks, seeking world domination. Briefly suspended between light and dark, a ribbon of mingled verdure, crimson, and wheaten brown serenely grips a shell slippery with imbalance, balancing betwixt irresistable force and immovable object in a fluidly joyful band of life.
Turnabout Candlelit Egg is 0 days old.

Taimath glares at Sidhe. What's wrong with being dark, hunh?

Sulinka isn't running, she's walking! Fast, but walking. Can't run with this heat. And it gets worse?

Maeseryn nods sageously. "Yes, hate t'hurt th'poor lad." Funny, J'oy always used to say the same things. He shuffles along (always did like to make tracks in the sand) pausing by a sparkly Frost egg.

Faeryl tears her eyes up from this egg with difficulty.  Looking around she half reaches for another even tho fingers seem to stick to this one.  "They are nice aren't they?"

No no no, messire. Sidhe /likes/ the dark ones. They're so pretty. She takes a pause at Friday, letting Sleek catch up. "What is it, Suli?"

A'ea nods with a faint smile to Faeryl. "Of course they are." They're Aramyth and Taimath's little dears.

Sulinka turns her body away, shielding her front from glances, and unstraps something, offering it to Sidhe. "Take a look" Eyes dart towards a dancing Summer egg.

Faeryl rises enough to offer gold and brown another bow.

Kymra absently nods agreement with Faeryl, fingers tracing along the ribbon of brighter colors through a dark backdrop.  "They're like nothing else I've ever seen," she murmers quietly.  "They're so big!"  Two thoughts, completely mismatched, yet they fit.

Sidhe dutifully looks at the Summer egg, smiling sidelong at Sulinka. "It's stunning, Suli," she murmurs obligingly.

A'ea watches with the fatuous look Taimath would never dare to show, as everyone googgles over the eggs.

Sulinka walks away slowly, slowly, and darts a glance at Sidhe over her shoulder, eyes baffled, mouth shaping some words.

Coral pinks and fruity oranges twist a floral brocade across the luminous surface of this egg, goldleaf and silvershot entwined in echo and highlighted by an occassional wine-dark smudge.  Newly emerging foliage-like shoots bunch teal and peacock blue, peek half-hidden through a smattering of starlike sparks which rise like a cloud of butterflies spiralling across the shell's tilted shape.  Silent and motionless now, its obvious contents yet wait dormant, wordless promise for renewal.
Vernal Phoenix Egg is 0 days old.

Faeryl sighs and slides fingers towards another egg.  Flame seems to dance in it buried deep as eyes strive to follow the pattern.

Ky'los has arrived.

Taimath's head goes up as he espies another intruder. Hmmmm. Now what's this all about?

Sidhe laughs brightly, faintly mocking as she sidles up to Sulinka to murmur in her ear.

Aeon mumbles to herself over an egg. "Dark dark..." she mutters and saunters between them, yawning every minute or so. Is it catching yet?

A'ea eyes Sidhe and Sulinka. Hey. Less chatter, more fondling.

Ky'los meanders out, cocking a friendly saute to the guarding parents.  "Now, Taimath.  Don't look so alarmed.  I'm only here to...ah...see that these Candies don't get of hand."  Yeah.

Sulinka shrugs, and turns her head back, nodding to Ky'los and T'lor, murmering a soft 'Sir' to each, and a hand-signal to Sidhe before she sinks to her knees in front of the dancer.

Kymra hops towards a second egg, careful to avoid prolonged contact with the burning sands.  Coming alongside the bright side, she pats it gently, gaze following the brilliant sparks of life.

Aeon hrms, she can fondle. Oh yes, she can. Fondle, fondle, fondle...

From a ledge above, Dyrth examines the scrolling paint on his hide.  Interesting.
From a ledge above, Dyrth struts a bit, showing off his artwork to Jisanth.

Sidhe smiles softly to herself before skipping off to experience Spring, burning bird style.

Aeon hrms softly and mulls over Turnabout Candlelit Egg...almost tripping over a Mound of Sand.

A topsy-turvy spin sparks a moment of livid festival, caught forever and frozen in a focus of heat and continuing life. This instant, this egg, draws to itself all light and attention, daring Rukbat to thread a stone needle simply for the privilege of forever dispelling its shadows. Fiery rings spiral and spin across amber and tangerine, their joyous communion echoing eternal song and celebration. Etched patterns in blue and green diverge and rejoin, recur in endless cycles, the perfect marriage of chaos and resolution.
Summer Sunwheel Egg is 0 days old.

Sulinka sighs, and gets up, dusting off knees red with heat, and moves over to her dark desire, fingers twitching in a ward-off sign.

Kymra glides towards the next egg that catches her eye, attempting to follow the multiple swirls and spins of the bright apricot and amber.

Taimath thinks everyone's getting Just Too Close. Especially that girl tripping over Aramyth's favorite. A'ea clears her throat. "Just a couple more minutes, everyone."

Sulinka reaches out a finger to stroke the egg with a shiver, delicious thrills running down her spine. Finally she steps back reluctantly, eyes aglow, and jaw set in a proud, determined curve.

Kymra pivots, frowning slightly.  And go back to the shrieks of the weyrbratlings?   How unamusing.  Sidling towards the next egg, she turns this way and that, trying to catch the many sparks and flames at once, to form them into a clear picture.

From a ledge above, Dyrth peers over, eyeing the candies.  If /he/ were Taimath, he wouldn't even let 'em on the /sands/.  Except for Ky'los.  But he's not, so he goes back to pondering his beauty,

The wiley wailing spirit of the netherworld, Bean Sidhe, banshee (oh what the heck, I'm feeling poetic) drifts in and out of the egglobs. Floating, she circles the Fort egg - now here would be a lovely place to haunt.

Faeryl reaches for what seems to be a mount of sand, and finds it feels like egg shell.  Hmmmmm!

Ky'los cocks his head and frowns a bit.  "Gently, kids.  Gently."

Taimath trundles over now to glare at Sidhe. No hunting allowed. Eggs aren't in season.

Aeon moves off towards another egg, slowly caressing it's leathery shell. "How gentle is gentle enough.." she murmurs, not really expecting anyone to hear her.

A'ea clears her throat, and says somewhat louder, "That's enough for today, don't you think? Taimath is getting very edgy, and I don't think you all should push your luck." Can't leave the eggs out for more than an hour. Gotta re-bury them. "Come along now..."

Kymra approaches a sticky-looking egg, only to catch herself before stumbling over a mound of sand.  Eyes widening, she reaches out to touch the granular surface, then turns to follow A'ea.

Sidhe frowns at Taimath but backs away - she wasn't hunting, she was /haunting/. There's a biiig difference. With a shrug she drifts back towards A'ea.

Sulinka bows respectfully again, "Thank you, Taimath, Aramyth" Slowly she walks back, eyes dreamy, and mind lost in daydreams.

Ky'los casts a glance at Taimath, who's unruffled compared to what Dyrth can get at times, but nevertheless saunters toward the entrance.  "C'mon, kids.  Maybe we can dredge up a chore for you."
Ky'los strolls toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Taimath can't spell.

Sidhe says, "Oh, yes, thrilling."

A'ea suggests pointedly, "Cleaning up their pranks?"

Aeon is still completely lost in her own little world, as she once again bows to the parents before heading after Ky'los....
Aeon saunters, hips asway, toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Sulinka smiles at A'ea as she passes by A'ea. "Thank you. Sir." A wicked wink.

"But I didn't do any pranks," points out Sidhe. Yet.

Faeryl rises backing up enough to offer a very polite bow before she slips off
 the sands.

Sulinka stalks sinuously toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.
Faeryl slips in with an eye catching sway to her generous hips toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.
Sidhe slouches slinkily toward Hatching Grounds Entrance.

Kymra scowls at Ky'los' back.  Chores.  Bleh.  "I'd rather not," she mutters to a nearby Candidate, who nods in agreement.  Offering another bow to the two parents of the clutch, Kymra retreats from the Sands.