Fort Weyr - Hatching Sands
The sands. The most prominant and possibly most important area for a weyr, this section of Fort is no exception to the rule. Completely enclosed from the outside elements by a high rounded ceiling, the golden white sand glitters under the streams of sunlight that manage to make their way in from the upper openings. Ledges abound in the upper areas of the dome, perfect for riders and their dragons to watch the action happening on the ground. At the back of the sands there appears to be a raised section of sand, built over generations by the golds who have laid clutches here, a couch of sorts for basking on while protecting their eggs. Slightly to one side of that, a small nook has been carved for the weyrwoman to take respite from the heat of the cavern.

Choth was in her corner, looking contently at the eggs until she rose on all fours and began the thrum which to the world of Pern meant they were coming! It's about as much noise as Choth has been seen to make, heard to make, in her Turns of life. But she is making noise now, calling forth those within their shells. Kessa's there in the hatching grounds, resting on a bench not too far away, startled straight at the noise from her dragon. Her eyes widen a little as a flash of excitement turns toward the eggs.

[Dragon/Fort] Choth thrums, her foggy whimsical thoughts curling around those of the Weyr, « They come. »

Honkytonk For Your Badonkadonk Egg doesn't thrash, per-say, no-no-no. It swings the top of the shell to and fro, all the while shaking it below. Dancing, one might assume, if it wasn't an egg. No jumping around, but instead, a constant spinning along with the butt-shaking motion.

Splattered Paint or is that Blood Egg makes it difficult to tell that it's is even moving. Only that it seems to be ever so slightly turning in a way to show other sides of itself. When it goes rolling from its spot towards it's parents, is it truely apperent that the dragon inside is indeed attempting an escape.

Garanth isn't far behind Choth in his rising to humm along with her, perhapes looking the most excited he's ever looked about anything in his life. Ma'kai is on the sands as well, and is quite surprised even if they knew it would be soon, it's still ya know, his first hatching beside the one Garanth was born from. Goodness that gets him excited enough to stand up from his place to watch from the sidelines, a huge smile on his face which is no doubt a reflection of his lifemates thoughts.

Splattered Paint or is that Blood Egg's shell starts to pop off suddenly in tiny bits. The bright red pieces of shell littering the hot sands. The egg starts to rock violently, tossing back and forth as it works to be free.

Honkytonk For Your Badonkadonk Egg keeps on /shaking it/! Toe-stepping and butt-wiggling to the song of the Hatching Caverns. Shouts and yells only urge the egg on as small, feathery cracks start to appear all over the surface. The crackling noise of it only adding to the song and the dance.

Kessa spots Ma'kai, making her way slowly over toward the man. She leans in and whispers something, pointing noticably toward the emptiness in front of the eggs. There's a concerned look flashing across her face. Choth doesn't seem to mind, as there's plenty of people in the galleries which would be just as nice as the candidates. Right? Kessa now turns her gaze on the galleries, shifting anxiously as if she were standing in front of the eggs. Worse, she's in front of all those eyes and there are no candidates!

Ma'kai smiles gently to Kessa despite her worries and reassures her that they're probably on their way now. Garanth himself is not so much alright with the stands being their candidates, but isn't worried either. They'll come. The Bronzer gives a wave to the people gathering in the stands and smiles brightly at them.

Tyrnal walks into the hatching sands, from the main entrance.

Arkoss wanders into the hatching sands, from the main entrance.

Br'yn steps into the hatching sands, from the main entrance.

Aidan steps into the hatching sands, from the main entrance.

Demos wanders into the hatching sands, from the main entrance.

Neia moves into the hatching sands, from the main entrance.

The And The Cradle Will Rock Egg has been far too still for far too long. It tremors a moment, as if not certain what to do. Then… JUMP! Indeed the egg bounces off the sands a moment like a basketball. It does it again… and again.

Arkoss is one of the first onto the sands, since he's done this…. three times already and knows what he's doing. Plus, his name begins with an A. So as soon as they're in sight, he bows gracefully to the clutchdam, and a bit more warily to the clutchsire since he has previously exhibited a desire to eat him. Then Arkoss turns his gaze towards the eggs, gulping and taking a few steps towards them.

Relief seems to flood into Kessa's face when there's a commotion at the tunnel, standing on tippy-toes after a moment just to confirm that the candidates were now arrived. Not a moment too soon. There's already two eggs cracked on the sands with a bunch other wobbling. "Thank Faranth," she sighs as her one hand rests against Choth's leg. Choth herself snorts at the entrance of the candidates, the folks in the stands would've been just as good. Too bad.

Tyrnal is hesitant in the way he moves onto the sands, as he usually has been when venturing out before. There are /people/ there. Quite a few people in fact, lurking about in the galleries, and it's rather nerve-wracking to be watched like that. He makes a rather uncertain bow though, before he takes to looking at those eggs. Those /moving/ eggs.

Br'yn steps out onto the Sands, bowing politely to the Queen and sire as a matter of courtesy before he moves quickly to the side to stand near the niche that's been carved for the meat that will later be stuffed into the new dragonets. He folds his hands neatly in front of him and proceeds to bask in the general heat of the Sands; ahhh, so much nicer than the stupid dampness of Fort's weather. Cough. He'll be lurking over here for the rest of the Hatching, circumstances providing, so don't mind him.

Aidan bows respectfully to Queen and sire as he enters the sands. He then files over to the standing place with the rest of the candidates, and…well, stands. He's not as experienced as Arkoss with these matters, and looks a bit nervous. Though only now since he entered the sands has it become noticable. The movement of the eggs catches his attention, though.

Demos follows behind his fellow Candidates, and when it's his turn to do so, he bows to the queen and the bronze both. After moving out again, and stopping near Tyrnal, Aidan, and Arkoss, he glances briefly towards the stands as if searching for someone in the throngs. A moment later, his attention is again diverted back to the sands. Inattention will result in a mauling. He has to remember that.

[FortSearch] Ma'kai just nearly died when his chair broke while leaning back. Give me a moment to clean the milk off my desk and keyboard
[FortSearch] Kessa: omg. XD
[FortSearch] Calria: Oh dear. I've had that happen to me before too. :D

Kessa seems to scowl a little at Br'yn's passing, though it's a fleeting expression since her eyes round on the eggs and then toward the bowing candidates. She nods to them, smiling at a certain few, but there's no telling who those few are. By the time that anyone would guess, she's using her gold's foot as a stool.

Splattered Paint or is that Blood Egg bursts into a million little pieces. The hatchling rolls several times, landing eventually upright on it's feet. Trumpetting brightly, it makes it's grand entrance to the stage of life.

Shout and Bites Blue Hatchling
This blue dragon has a short, almost pointed, grey blue muzzle, flecked in periwinkle. A broad black blue stripe that crosses over his face, creates an almost mask over his eyes before circling down his jaw line and down the sides of his neck, meeting in the middle to form a collar of sorts. His eye ridges themselves are a pale sky blue that stand out against this mask. Bright cerulean blue, dappled with near white specks paint the top of his head and extends down his neck to his shoulders, the speckling fading away midway down. The brightness fades to a deeper twilight that covers his lean back and flows down his limber legs, steadily darkening each limb until they're a midnight blue at his paws, his talons each a pinprick of light against the darkness with their pale blue color. His underbelly is the same pale blue and a slight feathering effect shows up on the taunt hide as a bit of pale grey seeps in. His long thin tail is a bright sky blue, striped with a darker true blue. His wingsails mimick this pattern with a few darker rows next to brighter near white rows creating an almost scaled effect on his wings.

Fightin' Fo Ya Rights Egg does what it has to. It wobbles, trying to shake free some of those rastafarian dreadlocks from the top of it's shell.

The Shrouded Emerald Isle Egg is tired of all this waiting. It's stillness is shattered by a firm and decisive wobble. And then another… and another. Blast this shell. It shall have to think about this as it goes till once more.

The And The Cradle Will Rock Egg has not ceased it's little jumps, though after the first they have been mere bumps up and down. It stills a moment, as if getting up all it's energy and then it bounces again, hard, coming down hard with a deafening crack were anyone silly enough to be close to it. Lines etch over the surface and it stills again… as if stunned.

Arkoss blinks. Ahhhh, an egg hatched! It's…. blue. Arkoss squints at the blue. "Huh… that one's got some very interesting markings." he states thoughtfully, regarding it. He glances at Demos and Aidan, guaging their reactions to it, and then turns to face the blue with a deep breath.

Aidan is looking at the hatchling blue as well, noting the markings, and nods to Arkoss's words. "Aye, it does," he notes quietly. The hatchling arrived from the egg that was so mean to everyone too. So Aidan is going to keep his eyes on that one….

Honkytonk For Your Badonkadonk Egg finally stops moving, the cracks more than evident along the shell's surface. The lack of motion is odd, in comparison to the wiggling around it was just moving. But what's that? Oh! It appears the song had ended. No worries, another one is about to start up. Just in time, as the shell suddenly /blasts/ apart, throwing pieces of egg all around and away. In the wake? Why, a green, already moving it to the next song!

Tyrnal is still looking like he might just be ill at any moment. He holds his breath, nearly choking on it after a few seconds. Okay, yeah, breathing /is/ what you're supposed to do. There's a mild shuffling then as he works his way around to stand himself next to Aidan, making a quick glance at the larger candidate. Well hey. He can use the guy as a shield if he needs to, in case of maulings. …Right? "This is…normal, right?"

How's She Even Get Them Britches On Green Hatchling
Honky-tonk green shines the light of a neon moon onto pale curves: the bright color is dimm'd only by a thin film of lackluster, matte charcoal shadows, as if looking through a screen of smoke. Hide is firm and taught, like billowy-soft leather stretched over the bodacious of bodies. Curvaceous and flirty, the innocent delicacy of her facial structure and length of svelte neck and slender, narrow chest is balanced only by the considerable size of firm, heart-shaped haunches.

Demos blinks and stares as a blue dragonet suddenly bursts free of its shell. "That… was the one that got me, that one time," he admits dubiously. Perhaps even warily. He's watching that thing pretty closely. "Tossed off the sands." And then another egg hatches, a green this time, and he has to grin a little at it. "She's kinda cute," he admits.

At last the Shrouded Emerald Isle Egg appears to have figured something out. It gives several more firm and rhythmic shakes, each rocking it more and more over until at last it flops over and cracks in a spider web pattern over it's foggy shell.

Neia watches on from near the entrance, keeping well out of the way but still close enough to the action to escort new pairs off the sands when needed.

Shout and Bites Blue Hatchling takes a moment to inspect his surrounding before taking off at a trot towards those little people over there. A happy littl side to sid bob of his head goes about as he walks around the candidates in front and back. Though once he gets to the end of the line both times, he seems quite out of sorts.
Arkoss turns slightly towards Demos, then nods in agreement with him, returning his gaze to the green. "I agree… she's cute, but… I wouldn't be able to handle her, that's for sure. She looks like a handful, ready to drive all the males crazy." The blue on the move, however, snatches his eye, and he watches it, ready to move at a split second's notice. It was the ebil one!

How's She Even Get Them Britches On Green Hatchling has a rhythm all her own. The green toe-taps away from the paltry remainders of what was her confinement and sashays right over to the mingled group of white-adorned candidates. It takes her a decent amount of time, trying to decide who will be the best to join in her life-long line dance. The dragonet moving up and down, left and right, kicking her feet up and spraying forth sand. Finally, she halts! Right in front of a young Holder lass with dark brown locks, who may or may not have been previously spinning in wild, free circles on the sands. "Oh! Oh! Derierth! Yes, yes, I know. My dancing needs work, but we can work on it together, right? You can teach me!" The two then get lead off the sands, ready to shake it all around.
With a triumphant cry the How's She Even Get Them Britches On Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Flames of Fire and Passion Egg starts to shake, rattle and roll, age lines appearing across the inky blackness of its' shell, nearly unnoticable in the light.

Aidan snickers very softly at the conversation. He's going to stay as out of the way as he can. And yes, now that he's being used as a human shield by Tyrnal, he's going to make certain that Tyrnal doesn't get stepped on! "Aye," he agrees to Arkoss's assessment. "Reminds me of Fumin." He speaks, of course, of his green firelizard. As the green finds her lifemate, Aidan gives a smile.

Fightin' Fo Ya Rights Egg seems to be undergoing a certain battle, as the entity within struggles to free itself from the oppression that is the shell. Slowly bits of colour start to flake away onto the sand as hairline cracks spider-web across the entire form.

That clearly did not work, and so after another time of stewing calculations the Shrouded Emerald Isle Egg tries once more. A drumming sound, like a large rubber mallet beats steadily from the inside. After a moment or two the drumming is louder and more sporadic. A rhythmic beat of a tune you couldn't dance to even if you tried… each beat the cracks open wider and wider until at last the side gives way, spilling a startled but pleased looking hatchling onto the warm sands.

In The Rare Ould Times Brown Hatchling
The shades of aged parchment wrap about this rather smaller brown's form, stretching from nose to tail tip. But in various places he appears almost burnt, particularly on his extremities. Rich coal black spreads over his face and head knobs where they gradually fade as it hits the creamy buckskin. His stocky extremities, too, exhibit this odd coloration, spiking along the back of each somewhere around the elbows and hock. The very tip of his tail in included in the burning, but curiously there the color fades and departs from the dark tip that stretches over some of his ridges and it spirals like a smokey haze around and around up the thicker section of his tail. It drifts and tapers off around where his hips meet his back. This coloration repeats itself down his long neck, but fades only halfway down. Coal tips each ridge as if singed but is met with a sandy loam color that wafts down his crest, under the smokey spirals. This same color reaches over his wing arms. Average length wing spars are tipped in coal, including his talons, but the sails resume the parchment color, save for the few aged-looking blotches here and there.

Tyrnal gives a shifty little look at that blue as it starts making inspections. That one /did/ come out of the egg that…went stabby in his brain. He shifts again, a few shaky breaths being taken, though he seems to be just a bit more confident as the green impresses to someone. Well that doesn't look so bad..

Demos looks amused as the green finds her dance partner. The blue, though… he keeps his grey eyes trained on it as much as possible. He's running around still. At least until there's a brown on the sands. That takes his attention too. "Interesting," he replies, watching the process with quickly moving head and eyes, unable to stop looking - there's so much going on!

In The Rare Ould Times Brown Hatchling attempts to use these short appendages to raise himself. It doesn't work so well at first. The little brown flounders and slips on sand slick with egg goo. He face plants a couple times before going really still. Scarily still, but his eyes whirl a contemplative color. After an excruciatingly worrying period of time, he gets up as if he's done it all his life. Now… where to go? Those white things? Perhaps. He stares intently at them an equally long time before at last he cannot resist. He must go inspect them. His joints wobble a little bit as he goes to take his first few steps and he nearly slides on a scrap of shell, but this just gets his momentum going. Stout legs working to keep up with his round hatchling body, he's headed towards those little stick-walkers. How do they stay up so well?

Arkoss personally is going to run the other way if that blue heads in his direction. Unless, of course, it wants him. Something tells him that if the dragon wants someone that badly, that hapless person will have no escape. He's distracted from the blue by the green Impressing, and then the brown hatching. "Congrats." he offers to the girl, then looks at the brown while keeping attention on the blue.

Shout and Bites Blue Hatchling walks the line of candidates again, trying very much to find the one he wants. He even goes back to where the remains of his egg is and warrbles to his parents before turning back to the candidates and starting over. Only then does he know just where he wants to go. Racing over to Nadav, a tall gangly looking boy, he trumpets and prances on his feet. N'dav laughs lightly and tentetivly reaches out to give the hatchling a good rub on the nose. "Alright Versaith, I'm feeling rather hungry myself." The teenager says before being lead off the sands along with his new lifemate.
With a triumphant cry the Shout and Bites Blue Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Neia moves out, helping the new blue pair off to the side of the sands out of the way of harm. Smiles are given as she settles them with the new green pair before moving tostand a little ways off to watch as the brown begins his search of the sands.

Aidan looks as another egg spills its contents onto the sands. "Oh…a brown," Aidan notes with a smile. "Very dark colors, isn'ae it?" He pauses, long enough to look back to Tyrnal and give him a reassuring smile. He quickly returns to keeping his eyes on the hatchlings. Wouldn't do to get smushed in the rush to find a lifemate, would it?

At last The Cradle Will Rock Egg moves again… this time in a reckless series of bounces. After all, that last one worked. It might as well jump. And indeed it appears to bash itself again and again, creating more and more cracks. Pieces break away and at last all that is left is a smaller bronze hatchling in a confetti of eggshells.

Running With The Devil Bronze Hatchling
Crimson copper surges in a bold band along the lean figure of this hatchling reaching from muzzle out broadly over his oval belly on either side. The base coat, it lightens at the top where his spiny ridges gleam the pale gold of a rising sun. Between the two the tone blends seamlessly with a stark orange brass that would look unappealing as a shade alone. Shadows of dark violet, near black, cut dramatic accents under his belly and limbs. They reach up in a series of dusty violet hued dapples, concentrating at his haunches and under his tail primarily. This same dusty violet drapes in dramatic smudges along the ridges of muscles and bone structure giving an appearance akin to theatrical makeup. These cause him to appear exceptionally muscular in bright lighting and accentuate every movement.

Other Side Of Me Egg shuffles to the left. Wait. No… no. To the right. No… no. Maybe to the front? No. The back? Yeah. No. Wait. Shoot. Perhaps it'll just jump up and down for a bit. Yes! That seems about right. Just some no-direction jumping seems good right now!

Tyrnal blinks, gaze jumping from egg to egg as they start popping all over the place. Really, with all of the dragonets pouring out, it's a wonder they all aren't just trampled underfoot! He gives a quick look at Aidan though, before rolling his eyes just a bit. "Yeah yeah.. geez, can't they just..take a number and hatch that way?"

[FortSearch] Ma'kai: Crap, I'm gonna need a new keyboard. my ctrl button seems to have died. >.>
[FortSearch] Kessa: uh-ohs!!!! Of course this would happen on hatching day. LOL. XD
[FortSearch] Ma'kai: Of course. I just hope the rest of the keyes survive.
[FortSearch] Calria: Yeah, I'm really sorry that it isn't working, but it is a little funny.
[FortSearch] Kessa: it totally is.. Maki. This is one to remember for you! LOL. XD
[FortSearch] Ma'kai grins. Yeah just a little :P
[FortSearch] Ma'kai: Yeah XD
[FortSearch] Kessa just wishes she could've seen it. Sorry, but.. it's a funny image in my head right now. XD
[FortSearch] Ma'kai is sure I would have laughed my face off if it had been anyone of my friends.

Arkoss looks relieved when the blue Impresses, and he offers congrats to the… /lucky/ guy that Impressed. "Ooh, bronze. Good job." he mutters in the vague direction of Garanth. The brown is watched closely, although the bronze certainly isn't ignored.

Demos laughs softly and nods at Tyrnal's words. And the blue is off! He breathes a sigh of relief - just as another egg breaks and releases a bronze. "Oh, he's kinda nice," he tells the others with lifted brows. "Like how the colors are on him."

In The Rare Ould Times Brown Hatchling has been concentrating on those white beings so intently he's forgotten some of the process in this 'walking' thing. He forgets a foot and falls flat on his chest, chin hitting the hot sand and causing his eyes to whirl yellow in shock and pain. Grumpy now, he creels at the white things. Why must you all be so far away? But he gives a resigned snort and stands again, organizing the limbs a little more awkwardly than last time, but only for impatience. He creels again, calling for… someone. He's not sure what, but maybe one of those weird white things. And off he goes again, staring at each white being in turn.

Aidan snickers slightly at Tyrnal's comment. "Well, ya couldn'ae take a number an' get born where yer ma wanted, could ye? When ya was brown, ya was born," he notes gently, with a smirk. Though he's speaking to Tyrnal, his eyes are front, so he doesn't get in the way of a baby dragon. "Jus' keep yer attention on 'em so they don' end up running over ya, an' ye'll be fine." Aidan nods to Demos's words, however he doesn't reply just yet. He smiles a bit at the brown's antics.

Tyrnal nods swiftly, hands rubbing down over his robe. Mm..sweat. "Right, like I plan on getting trampled." He's alert, despite his continued glances around the cavern. Trying to keep track of each hatchling that moves is a bit of a chore though.

Running With The Devil Bronze Hatchling lets out a wailing bestial cry almost at once. He vaults forward, heading into an awkward gallop. In his line of fire? A skinny but tall apprentice harper with long wild dark hair and chiseled features. His eyes widen and he starts to run with his fellow candidates, but stops to stare. The bronze slows rather inefficiently only a couple yards from his chosen. He pauses, posing, and then struts on up to the older boy. They stare at each other a long moment before the boy, Veran, lets out an ecstatic whoop! "V'an? Me? Sweet! Of course I'll be your V'an, Halenth! How totally awesome is this? Oh, right… food." He jumps to attention, looking for the Weyrlingmasters at once as the bronze, Halenth, lashes his tail around his ankles and trills loudly.
With a triumphant cry the Running With The Devil Bronze Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Arkoss takes a step or two towards the brown, then figures it might not be the best idea to approach a dragon that seems to have four left feet, so aside from those two steps, he remains where he is. Then he blinks as the bronze goes and Impresses. "Congrats V'an."

Freeform Innovation Egg jolts violently to one side, propping up against another egg beside it.

Demos glances at the brown again as it falls and creels. He frowns and murmurs softly, "Poor thin'." He nods at Arkoss as the other boy moves forward and then stops, one hand moving out towards him. "Yeah, best to stay here," he agrees quietly." He lifts a hand to wave towards V'an. "Congratulations to you," he calls.

Neia waves the new pair over to where the others are already settled, looking over each of them once more before heading back out there to be ready for the next.

In The Rare Ould Times Brown Hatchling pauses a long time at one older candidate, a tall broad-shouldered golden haired… male is it? Must be. He takes a goooood whiff of him before promptly sneezing… all over said candidate. This sneeze is followed by a disapproving sniff and he stalks away again. Definitely not the one. But oh! Is that… could it be? Of thw two candidates moving towards him he spots the One! He creels delightedly, but unlike most who gallop towards their mates, this buckskin-brown is far smarter. He'll get there alright, going as fast as he can with his already well established gait— walking. And so he power walks towards another tall bulky candidate, but with graying brown hair, his tail whipping back and forth and body wiggling rather absurdly. And before this candidate he deposits in the sands his own equally colored backside, adoring eyes focussed upwards towards what he knows instinctively is this one's face.
With a triumphant cry it seems that the In The Rare Ould Times Brown Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Other Side Of Me Egg will keep this jumping thing up! It's much more viable than wiggling around all crazy like. And look! It's actually helping! A large crack, which in turn is causing many smaller cracks, is forming right down the middle of the shell. For now, it's just gonna keep this up. Bouncebouncebouncebounce!

Blind Notes of Madness Egg starts wobbling round in its' given hollow. Thin lines start cracking it in all directions, no parallel given as it continues to rock around, before it finally settles back down, seemingly tired for now.

Kessa finally climbs back up to get a better view, shuffling over toward Ma'kai after a bit of effort, "Looks like a good clutch. Even a bronze in there." She smiles at the Weyrleader, her eyes turning toward the bronze being led off and the brown whose got the attention of yet another candidate. Choth continues to hum but it's quieter now, but it's still there in the cavern, encouraging those dragonets to crack their shells.

Fightin' Fo Ya Rights Egg crumbles finally, giving way to the determination of the bronze hatchling inside. With the egg shells being flicked off and wings spanning, this hatchling is off on the right start - on all four feet. With confidence born in the egg, the young dragonet takes his first breath of air and bellows as loud as he can. Freedom! At last mon!

We Don't Need Nah Trouble Bronze Hatchling
Shrouded in darkness, at first glance it's hard to determine the colour of the dragon - he's just that ebon. With a movement, only then does it become clear. Ripples of glimmering bronze traverse over his thick muscles, following his line of motion. The more light, the more glare that illuminates from his iridescent bronze hide. This fades around his broad head, where a dusted gold helmet predominates. This helmet leaves his sharp ridged eyes visible, with a nose piece built in to slip down toward the tip of his wide and elongated muzzle. The helmet further cuts shapes around his jaw, feathering out underneath it. Imagery of armoured plates in this same gold color rib down his substantial neck. This plated design runs all the way between his forward set shoulders down to his tucked underbelly where it fades out. As for his physical assembly, this dragon is packed with raw muscle. He has massive hind quarters, floppy feet with promises of a powerful ascent, and a sleek tail which gives his body balance. As for his wings, they are vast. The sails of his wings appear profuse - from the golden trims which line each sail or the wide spars which give them more extension. The last of his bold characteristics are his talons: they are tipped in silver, shaded to look like lethal weapons.

Demos is smirking a little when he notes the brown moving towards them. He moves back from Arkoss, sure that's who the brown means, but from Aidan he finds the brown sitting down right in front of him. The smirk falters and vanishes as he stares down at the dragonet. His entire body relaxes, and he rocks back on his heels slightly. Reaching out hesitantly, he settles one rough, scarred up hand atop the brown's head, head cocked to the side as if listening to something. A smile suddenly blooms, though, making his craggy features animated - though no more attractive. "Thauth," he says wonderingly. "Yes. Yes, I know where the food is. D'mos, you said? Wow…" He stirs at last, shaking his head with a look towards the Candidates left. He grins quickly and then turns to move towards Br'yn and the others. "This way," he tells Thauth.

Arkoss steps back when the brown approaches Demos, and takes a deep breath. "Congratulations, Demos. Thauth? Nice name." The herd thins. He grins at the other candidate, then looks towards the eggs again, counting. Seven eggs left, still plenty. And when one of them erupts into a bronze, well… Arkoss jumps as he bellows.
Br'yn moves onto the Sands with a quick, business-like gait, skirting around behind the other Candidates so that he can approach Demos - now D'mos - and his newly Impressed brown, smiling warmly at the freshly made Weyrling, "Congratulations, lad! Come on, then. Let's get some food into him." He'll lead the pair off the Sands and off to the hall that smells mildly of raw meat. Yum.

Ma'kai grins lightly and nods to Kessa. "Yeah, does seem very lively. Garanth is quite pleased." He whispers this last part because while the bronze wouldn't like anyone to know it, he's thrilled at all the little guys running around and nearly went to help the brown who'd fallen flat on his face. But he obviously didn't need the help and so the bronze continues to humm lightly as well, eager to see the rest of the eggs come about.

Tyrnal keeps rather still as that brown comes close, giving it a rather wary look. It might not be looking at /him/ persay, but it's near enough with its eyes on Aidan for the boy to be just a bit..worried. Brows scrunch together slightly then at the rather sudden…expulsion onto the taller candidate. "..Okay..gross.." But then it's moving away, and it's Demos that seems to catch the brown's eye. "Wh..uh.. That one took Demos." Well obviously. Let him be slightly stunned.

Aidan gives a broad smile of congratulations to V'an just before the former candidate and his lifemate are led off the sands. It's a momentary gesture, only because he doesn't want to lose his focus and get stepped on, but it's no less honest. "Aye," he notes again to Demos's observation of the brown. And then the brown sneezes on him? "Ew," he notes, looking down at the front of his robe. Ah well…it's washable. But hey! Demos Impresses! Aidan gives a smile to him as well. "Congratulations," he offers as the pair are led away. The bellowing brings his attention back to the clutch too, and fast!

Flames of Fire and Passion Egg continues to rock and roll across it's part of the Hatching Grounds, the age lines deepning across it's shell. Finally, flakes of eggshell start cracking and peeling away.

We Don't Need Nah Trouble Bronze Hatchling spreads his forelimbs apart as he takes a stance just outside of his egg, his head turning to watch the pairing of his brown clutchsib with a nostril flare and subsequent snort. Only after ensuring his brown brethren has secured himself with one of those white garbed figures, does the bronze seem to stretch out his talons, flexing them against the sands beneath him. Freedom definitely relates to the ability to stretch and flex. Front talons first and then the back. Wings part and flare, holding them aloft until a cracking noise beside him gains his attention. Stepping toward Flames of Fire and Passion egg, he seems to inspect it. Maybe there was something he should do to help?

Flames of Fire and Passion Egg pauses, as if taking a deep breath. Then with a sudden *CRACK* it splits down the middle, leaving the bewilderd occupant in it's wake. Shaking its' head, it finally steps into the light, revealing itself to be the Sown into Tight Black Suede Green Hatchling.

Sown into Tight Black Suede Green Hatchling
This green is all compact firmness and interesting colors. Her emerald green hide almost sparkles with hints of early spring grass colors, catching in the light. Her talons' are a dark green, grass dripped with early morning dew. That same color emanates from her chest in wiry lines across her stomach, some racing up her sides. More grass green reaches up her neck spines, almost unusually sharp, the rays of color reaching for the very tips - the dawn of a green day.

Arkoss raises his eyebrows at the bronze. "He looks like he'd eat you if you broke the rules." he comments with some amusement. "Well, not eat you. Maybe sit on you until you behaved…Ah. Pretty." he adds, the last comment aimed towards the green that just hatched.

Colors in Motion Egg may have just moved, if so it was just the slightest quivering. Or was it all a trick of the light?

We Don't Need Nah Trouble Bronze Hatchling leaps back as the egg he was inspecting splits, holding aloft one forelimb as his head lowers, wide eyes greeting the green hatchling who seems a little bewildered upon initial hatching. Lowering his foot back into the sand, he steps up to the green, flexing his chest out and giving her a gentle nudge with the brunt of his nose. There, that way, toward the white things. Only after the welcoming bump given to his clutchsib does his attention drift back to the candidates, sensing the urgency rising, that time was of the essence.

Sown into Tight Black Suede Green Hatchling is a little shy at first, crooning softly to her parents back there and to her sibling in front of her, before inching her way towards the candidates. This is when she notices her wings and stops for a moment to inspect them, opening one then the other and quite liking what she sees, she opens them both up and prances the rest of the way to the white robed people. Oh hello! She tries to look cute as she inspects them all.

Aidan snickers to Arkoss's statement. "Aye, he does," he agrees. "Though that might be just as bad." A snicker. And then he notes the bronze…helping the green? Huh. He's never seen that before. Of course…he's never been at another hatching before, either. The green's cuteness as she inspects the candidates prompts a chuckle.
Other Side Of Me Egg keeps! On! Bouncing! Yes. /Yes/! Almost there. Just aboooout… CRRAAAACCCKKK! The egg splits, nice and smooth like, each half falling to the side, leaving a blue dragonet where the shell once was. All topsy-turvy, the blue must first right himself, before he sets off!

Hold The Key To Both Realities Blue Hatchling
Waves of aquamarine dance across his navy hide, glittering turquoise sweeping over darker hues over his slender shoulders. An 'S' curved neck is slick and smooth, his enormous wingsails muddied slightly by tan-colored undertones. Sapphire runs and flicks along the length of his tail before disappearing in silver mist to match that about his check, trickling down his well-muscled limbs before splitting into talons. A perfectly wedge-shaped head is held proudly, expressive brow ridges gently tainted with golden rays of penetrating sunlight.

Freeform Innovation Egg splits all down the side, though the occupant inside doesn't yet take the opportunity to push free of it's shell. Instead, the shards which remain intact look to be inhaled, causing it to appear as if the egg itself is breathing.

Tyrnal shakes his head just a bit, focusing quickly on the green as it hatches and impresses, and then right over to the bronze again. "Geez, look at that thing." For once, it seems he actually agrees with Arkoss, nodding faintly with the other candidate's statement.

Arkoss remembers that particular egg. Ohhhh yeah. "Frankly, I'm surprised it didn't hatch into a green too." he mutters, nodding towards the blue that just hatched. "Wow, he's certainly…flashy though." The green being cute causes Arkoss to grin. "What a darling, she knows she's being admired. She's even got boys helping her already!" he observes. "Though that bronze might help any of them, he seems nice and dependable to me."

Sown into Tight Black Suede Green Hatchling suddenly pauses her inspection of a certain candidate, whuffling as she turns away from the boy to peer behind him. She pauses, blinking, almost as if double-checking her instinct, before she suddenly barrels through a pair of younger candidates, heading straight for the back of the Hatching Grounds. Finally skidding to the stop in a sand, she directs her compact body straight for the one candidate not looking her way. Poking her muzzle through the fring of hair that covers her face, there's a wistful crooning, as if to say, 'Love me?' There's a sharp gasp from the girl in question, and running her hand through her hair, she pushes it back and smiles. "Yes, Sandith. You and I. Forever." She remarks softly. There's a loud whoop from the Hatching Galleries, Isa doing a war dance. "Way to go Is'abel!" She cheers her sister on, even as the pair disappear off the grounds.
With a triumphant cry the Sown into Tight Black Suede Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Pearly Gates Egg lurches as a mighty tremmor shakes it. Like a bell has been rung and the vibrations are running up and down the surface of this egg. The sand gravitates away and loosens this pearl of purity loose from it's spot, letting it roll along the hot sands before resting a few feet from where it had just stood.

Aidan chuckles at Arkoss's observation of the green. "Aye. When ya got it ya got it, eh?" He smiles as the green Impresses to Isa's sister, offering a congratulatory smile to her as well. And then the Pearly Gates egg finally starts to move. That was the one that he's been the most curious to find out what was inside it….

We Don't Need Nah Trouble Bronze Hatchling raises his head as another egg splits and once again his neck flexes as a bellow comes from him. It's a tune of a welcome, an excitement that turns abruptly on the candidates. Indeed, as he stands there just a ways from where he broke shell, his bellowing rounds on them. It's not a menacing call, indeed not. Cocking his head to the side, he starts off at a brisk pace, one that is almost certainly dashing. His is there, standing out amongst the crowd. Robust like he and with the same gallant heart. Those that need help should never be in fear, for help will always be near! It's a wandering of the sands that is done with a precise nature and once he's closed the distance, his will know it, his will find himself on a road of greatness and significance.
With a triumphant cry it seems that the We Don't Need Nah Trouble Bronze Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Hold The Key, To Both Realities Blue Hatchling seems… a bit confused. There are far, far too many directions from him to take away from his shell, and each could be the wrong one. Or maybe the right one. He's not so sure. A look is sent back to his clutch-parents, along with a mildly pathetic crooning sound. Alright, alright. He can do this, he wanted it, after all! So one step turns into many, and the little blue goes just straight forward, as if walking onto a stage. Instead of breaking into song, though, he stops, nice and quick like, in front of an older lad from Boll. Yep. You'll do. "Cyruth? What? Stage fright? What does that eve— never mind. Not important, let's just get your head on straight, huh? And no, no blonde wigs." The newest blueriding pair heads off the sands, the lad keeping his hand on the blue, to keep them on the right path.
With a triumphant cry the Hold The Key To Both Realities Blue Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Colors in Motion Egg shakes violently, rocking back and forth until it falls over onto its side. A jagged crack appears at one end and tears down the length of the egg as the dragon within attempts escape.

Blind Notes of Madness Egg continues to wobble around and around, moving to some kind of beat inside even as the egg starts falling off into pieces, starting to reveal the struggling occupant. There's another pause, now, as the egg seems to have gotten stuck?

With some minimal effort, the shell shards of Freeform Innovation egg start to crumble and drop to the floor. In small pieces and then in big sections when the occupant inside seems to exhale. It's also with one tail lash that the remaining foundation of the egg shell falls away, leaving a pale form of a dragon in it's wake.

Clouds of White, Skies of Blue Hatchling
Pale powder blue dominates this balanced limbed dragon, with some areas such as his barrel-like rib cage taking on an icy rendition. In fact, even on his wing sails his colour can be mistaken for white instead of blue, though the far stretching wing spars are thankfully dipped in a sky blue, to at least distinguish him from the clouds of white dabbing against his agile form. A sharp pointed face is coated with this pale blue, except around his eyes where a nice rich blue gives him raccoon eyes. Theres also a deep navy line running down from the beginning of his head knobs to the end of them on his slender tail. One other significant thing about this blue that makes his features pop out more are the dark black talons that extend from his fair sized feet.

Aidan suddenly looks stunned for a moment, like he's forgotten where he is for a moment. Though he manages somewhere in that to tilt his head and look up at the dark bronze that's suddenly there, looking at him. And then a word comes to his lips. "Jaharith." Like he knew it already. "Aye…I'll stand with ya…as Ai'an," he agrees, his voice at a murmur, raising a hand to run fingertips gingerly over the muzzle of the bronze, as if in a daze. Though suddenly he seems to remember that there are other things going on, he chuckles, and looks for the Weyrlingmaster. He's not a new mouth to feed. "Let's get ya fed, eh?" he notes at the strange hungry sensation that is obviously not his own. And he makes for Br'yn and the others.

Tyrnal shifts, taking a few steps away as that bronze comes right after Aidan, eyes a little bit wide. Hey! It took Aidan, who is supposed to be his body armor should he need it! The sideways steps have him nearly bumping into Arkoss though, and he blinks, staring at the other candidate for a moment…and then just clears his throat. He doesn't say anything to Arkoss though, rubbing his hands once more on his robe. There are still a few eggs, after all..ones that are moving. And hatching!

Clouds of White, Skies of Blue Hatchling has done his searching - when he was in the shell. Or that's what some would think as it takes the blue a matter of moments to turn his head to regard those down the line. Nostrils flare when his gaze fixates on one young lad Harper apprentice from Hold Gar. The blue does not stray from this course now, taking the easiest route for the lad - straight, or in his case angular. The lad sees the blue striding toward him with determination and sucks in his breath, absently sweeping a hand down his chest as if preparing for some examination. The blue stops in front of the boy and fans his wings. Louie's eyes go big and round before he steps forward to hug his dragon, calling out in the confusion of the sands, "Armstroth! Yes, what a wonderful world it is, now that I'm L'ue."
With a triumphant cry the Clouds of White, Skies of Blue Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Arkoss regards the green and her chosen with amusement. "Congrats…. I'd get going before you get mauled by your sister." he suggests to her with a laugh. "She might hug you to death by the sounds of it." and then the bronze finds his chosen, and he turns to grin at Aidan. "Congratulations!" he calls over, and then towards the Boll lad as well. Then he turns towards the eggs remaining, and holds his breath for a few seconds. Four left, and still a good number of candidates left. His heart thumps a little in his chest, and then he expels the held breath. And then a blue hatches and Impresses right away. "Huh… congrats."

Pearly Gates Egg sits still before a loud crack sounds and a line mares the nearly perfect surface. A sound, like scratching, can be heard coming from the egg as more cracks begin to appear on the egg. Though these seem to carry no sound, like they're mearly lines being drawn by invisible brushes.

Blind Notes of Madness Egg wobbles around some more, and then with a triumphant, startling crack, the egg completely breaks apart. There's a pause as the occupant shakes off the last of it's egg, then stepping forward into the light, it's revealed to be the Skirting the Edges of Sanity Brown Hatchling.

Skirting the Edges of Sanity Brown Hatchling
This browns' hide is a deep, deep brown. Not the color of the earth, but a rich loamy brown that covers his sturdy body. He is a more solid dragon and not given to much leanness; his tail, however, is unusual in the way that it counterbalances, being long and lean. His muzzle is compact as well, though holds a startling visage; an amber-red starburst shape has formed on it. The rays of this starburst reach straight towards his underbelly and his back. The tips of his neck spines have been bathed in that amber color; making them look more dangerous, more eye-catching with the surprising uniqueness of the color. His belly is that same loam brown, covered in earth; however, he has several red lines running through it that reach as far as mid-way down to the tip of his tail. His talons are strained through with thin red marks, bringing the over-all representation of loam red-brown earth to a close.

Neia welcomes Ai'an and Jaharith over with the rest with a smile as well as a bucket of meat chunks. She makes sure the pair is well settled with the others before turning back to catch the blues impression and get them settled with the others as well.

Pearly Gates Egg rattles around and a trill can be heard from inside the egg before it shakes harder, makeing it roll again along the sands as limbs begin poking out, making it seem much like a walking egg. Then with a mighty effort, wings unfurled and neck and tail swinging, the shell is tossed off. Giving the hatchling it's first look at the world outside it's dark home.

Comforting Notes of Glory Brown Hatchling
Aerodynamically perfect, this brown dragon has a sleek sort of grace about him. Rich, burnt caramel sweeps up the sides of his face and up over his his eyeridges and slightly pointed headknobs. Beneathe this is a warm, orange tinted brown that colors the top of his head and slides down his neck to his back to cover his legs and tail. Even his wing spars are dipped in the honey like color. His massive wing sails carry a cloudy milk color, or maybe klah with too much cream in it, and soft swirls can be made out when the light is shining through them. All along his underside, extending from his chin to the tip of his tail, is a nice cream color, like cookie batter that's just been mixed with the tiniest bit of cocao. If one looks cloesly enough, slight swirls of deep brown can just be made out. Each razor sharp talon is dipped in that same burnt caramel that flares over his face.

Choth rumbles a bit as the last of the eggs is seconds away from hatching. Kessa looks at the mess left behind, all the scattered shell shards and watches the last attempt to break free.

Colors in Motion Egg finally splits in half, small fragments of shell becoming airborne with the force. The dragonet within uncurls its wings from around its body quickly, but then peers at its surroundings with more reserve.

Lost in the Jungle Green Hatchling
A dark, murky green coats the lithe form of this dragon from the tip of her nose to the base of her tail, the hue differing here and there so that she looks always in shadow. Halfway up her rounded but narrow muzzle, lighter grey-green dots appear, which grow into patches that completely engulf her long, thin head knobs. The patches of grey-green slowly fade farther down her slender neck, leaving her long, streamlined torso unadorned. In contrast with the rest of her form, her fore and hind limbs are rather short, which makes her look a little ungainly, dark green changing to a muddy olive green at the end of each limb. Her long and narrow wings are similarly drab, the coloring on the sails only a touch lighter than on her body. Only on her thin whip-like tail is her coloring anything other than muted. Here the dark green is swallowed up by a brighter verdant green that pales to yellow-green at the very tip.

Skirting the Edges of Sanity Brown Hatchling doesn't exactly move yet, much too enthused with the thought of being free! Free as a bird. Or, in this case, a brown hatchling… that can't exactly fly yet. However, voicing a bass rumble, he steps forward out of his shell, shaking the rest of it off his body before he sets off at a lopsided angle towards the rest of the candidates. However, ther's a startled bugle as he narrowly misses his sisters' hatching, and he pauses, giving a puzzled croon. '

Arkoss catches his breath again as all eggs hatch except for one, and he looks from one of the browns to the other. Oh yeah, his heart is pounding pretty frantically, and sweat that has nothing to do with the heat of the sands beads on his forehead. "I'm not going to fail this time!" he growls to himself, then eyes the green that just hatched out of the last egg. His head swerves between the three, though more between the two browns than the green. Sorry, you're a cutie, but… he can't fathom females enough as it is. Tyrnal is eyed as the candidate ends up near him, and nods jerkily at him, returning his attention to the dragons with an expression so determined he might be working his way into a headache. Either that, or his face'll freeze that way.

Tyrnal glances a little at Arkoss when the other candidate starts making faint..growly speech, and shakes his head, fingers brushing through sweat-dampened hair. Really, it /is/ hot out there. A few less than steady breaths are taken though as he looks back out again, with eggs breaking and spilling open all over once again. Some of the last ones, in fact. "Oh man.."

Comforting Notes of Glory Brown Hatchling looks around, a bit confused at all the shell peices already on the ground. What /are/ those? He noses at them a bit before seeing his sister pop free from her egg and realizes what they are. Wuffling a little he moves off towards the candidates. There's so many of them. Who's the one? He moves a little faster, though slows when he approaches, noticing a few looking scared. He won't hurt them! In fact he goes over and sees if they're alright, though they'll never do, he still can't just leave them in that frightened state.

Kessa breaths out when the last eggs hatch, "They've done decently, haven't they?" She says this to Ma'kai, though she's curious to see which of the last pick from the now scattered group of candidates. Her eyes flicker over the boys that are remaining, peering closely at Tyrnal and Arkoss for all that she knows of them.
Lost in the Jungle Green Hatchling shakes off a bit of shell sticking to the bottom of a hind foot before cautiously approaching the candidates. It's proving to be rather difficult, to remember to keep her wings elevated so they don't drag in the sand and coordinating leg movement at the same time. There are a couple stumbles, and then one big trip on the uneven sand that ends in a face plant. Nyolla, a shy girl who has kept mostly to herself throughout the candidacy is the closest and with a few steps is at the green's side. Their eyes meet and a smile breaks out on the girl's rounded face. "Shimmith, her name is Shimmith!" Is said gleefully, it's probably the first time anyone at Fort has heard her speak above a murmur. The pair of them are then led off the sands.
With a triumphant cry the Lost in the Jungle Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the Weyrlingmaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Skirting the Edges of Sanity Brown Hatchling snorts as he finishes inspecting his green sibling. Then, with a gentlemanly swish of his tail, he backs away from her, and nearly into another candidate. Giving a surprised whuffle, he turns around and inspects the young lad before giving another bass croon. No, no. Not you. Not you at all. Then, he continues wandering past him, and then sticks his nose in Tyrnals' face. Hi. Whatcha doin'? Wanna play a game? No? Why ya starin' at me? Who are you? He gives a bugle of greeting towards his fellow brown, more inclined to ignore the petite green. However, he keeps bobbing his head left and right, staring at Tyrnal. Getting dizzy yet? So is this poor brown, as he finally gives a whuffled snort and then turns his head. Hey! Who is there?!

Arkoss notices the green Impressing right away, and he nods to himself. "Congrats." All right. Brown or bust! He stares at the two browns intently. Come to meeeee. I don't bite, honest! Ahem. "Yeah, this is the worst part of the hatching. It's either these….. or not at all." gulp. "Please don't let it be not at all…." there he goes with the muttering again. He shifts his feet and runs his hand through his hair, no doubt making it all greasy with the OUTPOURING OF NERVOUS SWEAT*cough* and then the first brown is looking at Tyrnal, and Arkoss steps away just in case.

Tyrnal is not /scared/. He might be breathing a bit heavily, and sweating, and squirming on his feet, but that's totally due to the heat of the sands! So what if he's looking just a bit..greenish. That's perfectly normal in these situations, yes? He puffs out a long breath though, bangs ruffling just a little under the force of the air. "Almost done.." Brown. Right in his /face/. "Geh!" Well, at least he doesn't fall down, even if he does stumble back a step or two.

Comforting Notes of Glory Brown Hatchling moves along the line after making positive that those who were frightened are alright. Hum, not you. At the bugle, the other brown croons lightly. Yes, he's friendly and quite glad his clutch brother is having such fun. He pauses in front of a white-hair man and finds him quite fastinating. So odd, though this was /not/ the one he is looking for and so he moves along, circling around the more energetic brown to walk the line a bit more. Where is he?!

Arkoss realizes that if he holds his breath one more time just because a dragon approaches him, he'd probably faint. So he forces himself to breathe evenly, watching the brown with hope practically bursting as he approaches him. Then the hope shatters into pieces when the brown turns away from him. Bu-dump. Well, neither of the two browns have Impressed yet, so the fragments of hope are ready to reform.

Tyrnal takes a few panted breaths as the brown moves on, giving the dragon a slightly nervous bit of eyeing. There's a bit of a shifty look given around though, straightening back up once again. There we go. Maybe nobody saw that. Completely unlikely with a gallery full of people watching, right? His tongue comes out briefly then, wetting somewhat dry lips as he watches the two browns move around each other.

Skirting the Edges of Sanity Brown Hatchling gives one last tail flick at Tyrnal before quickly ambling away, his interest now caught by another candidate. Ah-hah! That must be the one! He wanders up to a tall blonde-haired holder boy and whuffs at him. No wait, false alarm. Pumping his sturdy dark legs the brown turns once again, nosing his way back from the direction he had come. And then it hits him, oh man, this /has/ to be it! He charges headlong back through the candidates in such a hurry that he has to catch himself from slamming into his chosen. It's you, it's you!
With a triumphant cry it seems that the Skirting the Edges of Sanity Brown Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Comforting Notes of Glory Brown Hatchling is getting frustrated, worried even. He was /certain/ he'd be here, that he'd felt the right mind while in his egg. He takes to running down the line, but accidently hits someone with his tail and skids to a stop. Oh, he didn't mean to do that. He's looking quite appologetic when he turns to head on. And then he really looks at the candidate his brother had been inspecting. That's him! A trill that becomes a trumpet of joy erupts from him. Closeing the gap between himself and this /one/ he nearly nuzzles the boy's chest, resting against him and looking quite pleased.
With a triumphant cry it seems that the Comforting Notes of Glory Brown Hatchling has found its partner at last and impression is made!

Arkoss is about to faint. Seriously. Someone catch him. Or else a heart attack. Hyperventilating? Maybe. "You came…. Meahakumeleth…." then Arkoss, now K'oss, bursts into tears, flinging his arms around the brown's head, just a /tad/ hysterical. "Yes, yes, whatever you want! You can have anything, I promise! Let's go get you something. Together."

Tyrnal is abused with a tail. Gah! There's a bit of a hop given as that brown goes rushing past, and a frown crosses the candidate's features. "Ow! What the..uh.." And there's another dragon. Right there in his face. Again. But it's a rather shaky hand that comes out to touch after a moment though, fingers feeling over the brown's muzzle in quite the show of absolute…confusion. "You..wait, what? Raphaith.. What, but..well yeah, I'm okay, but..what?" Well, he'll probably have to let it sink in for a bit. For now though, Tyr just drops down a bit, arms drawing about the brown's neck. "Heh..Tyr huh? Weirdo.."

Kessa's eyes widen as she watches the browns switch positions and take opposite candidates in which they were sniffing. However, it seems hard to say if the impression of Arkoss or Tyrnal is the one that's brought tears to her eyes. Though, knowing the young woman stood with Arkoss, it's likely to assume the former as her hands clasp together and a smile draws on her face. "He did it…" she whispers, sighing contentedly, finding herself absorbed with the young man's impression to the dragon whose kept him waiting all these Turns. Though, Tyrnal's impression certainly earns a sob or too as well, because now the boy is one of them and no longer a renegade! He can't be, not with that brown at his side. "Two miracles… Thank you Choth, Garanth…" She smiles at the dragons before she waddles forward, spreading her hands to the group of candidates remaining, "I'm sorry you've not found your lifemate today, but do not give up hope. Please, join us in the living cavern for a fine feast to help us celebrate the welcoming of the new weyrlings. You're all welcome to stay in Fort as long as you desire. Our doors are always open." The remaining candidates, most disappointed, nod and take their leave of the sands while their friends head the opposite way.

Since it seems Arkoss is about to pass out, Br'yn hurries out onto the Sands to rest a hand on his back, looking somewhat sheepish, "Good on you, Arkoss… come on before he starves to death." He'll gently pull the boy in the direction of the food that his dragonet must be asking for, pausing only to catch onto Tyrnal as well, laughing slightly and ruffling his hair before he snags him by the back of the neck to lead him along too, "Congratulations, son. Come on. We need to get him into the barracks and off the Sands." Ah, half-conscious Weyrlings; always the most fun to drag off to the barracks. Haul!