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Sixth Wher Hatching
Topic Started: Oct 11 2014, 12:48 PM (3,750 Views)
Iradial
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MEDIOCRE
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He had been comfortable. For a long time--as long as he could remember, now that he thought about it--he'd existed in darkness, swaddled, cocooned within these walls. Of course, he had only been awake for a short time, drifting in and out of consciousness. Still, it was long enough to notice a change; to notice the ache growing within the gnawing emptiness of his gut. As need seeped in, the wherling quickly came to terms with the inevitable: he could not stay here.

Regrettable, that. He felt as if he could slip back into sleep easily, if it weren't for the hunger pangs. They were there, though, no way around that. Resigned, he clawed and chipped at his shell, working steadily. When at last it began to crumble, the wherling flexed and felt the shell crack open, give way to his strength. With the sudden absence of resistance, he flopped. Limbs akimbo, laying there amongst the shards, the wher took in his first look at the world. Flashes of heat surrounded him, red and orange and yellow against cooler blues and greens; scents bombarded him, the most prominent one that of blood. He perked up at this, his stomach growling. If he felt any alarm at the humans in the room, it was quickly forgotten when hunger returned to the forefront of his mind.

The wherling--a large brown, dusty in color as if he'd stood under falling ash for a while--got to his feet. His nostrils flared; his head swayed, following the scents. And he turned to Olimar, approaching the big man without fear. It was instinct that prompted him to reach out for the man's mind, though his bulging eyes widened in surprise at the sudden mental connection.

Oli... he said, experimental. Olisk... hungry. With those words, Olisk closed the distance between them and hooked his claws over the edge of the bucket, using it as leverage to pull himself up on shaky newborn legs. From there, all he had to do was drape himself over the side... and feast.

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Olisk
Amenable, mellow, assured
12.5
Olimar

835C3B


[/align]
O'zen : Bronze Lenth
Lowen : Beryllium Lerriloth
Jerund : Brown Jerusk
Hama : Green Hamask
Eevai : Garnet Iopeth
Sh'ol : Graphite Hellioth
Kh'sev : Grey Saiyeth
Bervaidi : Blue Bervask
Syrsha : Brown Kalayth
Rosinthew : Candidate
Khola : Weyrfolk
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Fishy
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always classy
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One of the tiniest eggs in the clutch was especially lumpy and misshapen. Wher eggs were not at all attractive, but this particular "orb" was as ugly as they came. To those that didn't know better, it looked as if the hatchling inside was terribly malformed. But the creature that struggled his way out into the world was perfect, he knew this right down to his bones.

He was perfect and wonderful and possessed of such a natural confidence that he almost seemed to swagger out of his shell. Sure, he swayed a bit and knocked his nose against the sand, but no one could fault him for that could they? It was all his egg's fault. His egg had been exceptionally wobbly after all.

He was a strange looking creature, for sure. Wrinkly and unattractive as most whers were, he seemed to have even more of a squished face than usual. But his coloration was what made him stand out. Soft, grey blue, with much darker navy on his underside. White criss-crossed his face and then mottled the rest of his body and wings like puffs of gentle clouds floating serenely across his tubby little body. Someday, he'd be a study little tank of a wher who bulldozed his way through life. Now, he was hardly even a threat to the foot of the woman he pounced upon.

He locked his toothless jaws around her shoe, snorting and snarling as he twisted his head this way and that. Was he trying to play? Looking for food? It wasn't immediately clear until his nasally-sounding voice echoed through her head and his consciousness thinly hooked itself into hers. Taste terrible! Find Nedeysk something better! Nedeysk deserves better!


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Nedeysk
Arrogant, Vain, Ambitious
11 feet
Nedeya

38538e


[/align]
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Wingsecond RhiasGarnet Melacyth#ccoo3d
Weyrling T'rinnBrown EncantothperuPosted Image
Wingrider BikGrey Auralyth#7a7a7aPosted ImagePosted Image
Wingrider JiirBlue OkouthmidnightbluePosted Image
Bluerider LairahBlue Elbereth#0f1155Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
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Contrition
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Only two eggs were left, and Avaia’s was the second to last to crack open as the hatchling inside finally, finally gained purchase after what felt like an eternity of effort. His egg had been average-sized, holding no clue to his color or stature, but as his shell crumbled around him it revealed hide of a golden, caramel color.

The little brown was interested in the new world and he did not move for a moment. Sitting in the shell remnants that had recently been his lumpy egg, he drew breath. His snorting pants were accompanied by full, body-shaking quivers as he turned this way and that, eyes rolling in his head. He felt… it was hard to say what, exactly, he could pick out in the overwhelming assault on his freshly awakened senses. But he finally settled on one strand and fastened his entire consciousness on it. Her.

He turned again and looked right up at Avaia, then his panting stopped in one big, shuddering sigh. It was like he just knew. More likely, it was that she was closest. And that she was holding a bucket that smelled really good to the hatchling.

As he hauled himself to his feet and toddled unsteadily, his markings were revealed—a deep, warm chocolate underbelly. The same color just kissed his wingsails, at the very edge. They remained folded on his back as he toddled forward.

Then he had bumped against the tasty-smelling bucket and… well, nothing had happened! He screwed up his face and, rather than snarling, actually grunted in displeasure. Then he looked back up at the person in front of him.

Avvvvv…. Avvvvvaaaaaa… Avvvvaaaaa feeeeeeeed, he managed, in a half-whine that was still somehow polite.

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Avask
Patient, Calm, Emotional
12 Feet
Avaia

#cc9900


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Amber Wingsecond Aniese of Gold Rezeirth :: Marble Wingrider Vyra of Grey Theteth :: Granite Wingrider Karen of Blue Ienirth :: Weyrling Master Mai of Green Laeitath :: Candidate Master Kari of Green Seliath :: Sandstone Wingrider Natalia of Green Priyeth :: Sardonyx Weyrling A'den of Black Ezvanth :: Amber Weyrling Cayliss of Garnet Avraith :: Candidate Mirana :: Candidate Piper :: Journeywoman Healer Ylanna :: Weyrfolk Becca

Hurricane Wingrider Seneca of Blue Roryth

Sandstone Wingrider Dacielle of Copper Vylendrieth :: Granite Wingrider L'del of Grey Xakoeth :: Searchrider & Marble Wingrider M’ril of Blue Notalith :: Shale Wingrider K’dyn of Green Scherezath :: Baby Azora

Current Thread Tracker :: Plotter

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Fishy
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always classy
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He was the last to hatch, but certainly not the weakest of the combined clutches. One of the larger eggs, the one that had been designated to Quistly, seemed to disintegrate in a whirlwind of flailing limbs. He was a beautiful, snorting mess. Quite possibly the most striking wher to touch Vaioa's sands since the wher breeding program had been started. He bore the color of deep, glacial waters, touched on his face and back half by stark, pure white. When he moved, the blue on his hide seemed to ripple and it became apparent that it wasn't all one shade, but many subtle ones rippling together, gemlike in their brilliancy. He was quite long for a blue, but to the trained eye it was obvious that he'd develop a lithe and graceful body built to run and run forever.

For now, he was a tubby little thing who snorted and shook himself so violently that he nearly toppled over. Grace would come in time, but for the near future he'd be waddling about like a plump pig. He certainly sounded like one.

The first order of business, it seemed, was for him to turn on the egg that had imprisoned him for so long. He'd hated it, longed for the outside world, and now it was time to take his revenge. Defiant of his rumbling stomach, the blue wher stomped and rolled atop his shells, crushing them until only tiny pieces remained. Only then did he turn to the woman who'd been offered to him with critical eyes. He was clever, this little blue, not quite as intelligent as his black kin but quick enough to pick up on the thought processes of this pasty human. She hadn't been expecting him and that amused the blue. He wanted to go against the grain, to be unexpected and a general thorn in everyone's backside. That would please him more than anything in the world...and he'd start with this Quistly female.

Get off tailfork and feed Quisk, now!


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Quisk
Defiant, Sarcastic, Protective
13 feet
Quistly

00bdd5


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Wingsecond RhiasGarnet Melacyth#ccoo3d
Weyrling T'rinnBrown EncantothperuPosted Image
Wingrider BikGrey Auralyth#7a7a7aPosted ImagePosted Image
Wingrider JiirBlue OkouthmidnightbluePosted Image
Bluerider LairahBlue Elbereth#0f1155Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image
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marchosias
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& grey Felseth
Sijard - tag Caim, open

With barely any hesitation, she'd crossed into the large room and picked up her bucket of rancid slop. How was this stuff tolerable for even a wher? Nasty. She'd shuffled over to the eggpile where other candidates were milling about with their own nasty buckets and was rather pleased to hear Caim's familiar voice. Sijard was feeling particularly good today. She nodded in greeting, not even bothering to bite back a slight grin. "Ya damn right I was selected. Good luck, huh? Let's hope we both come out all happy."

When the first wherling tumbled out Sijard had quickly decided to squat down by her egg for conveniences' sake, get a good look at the baby before they decide to run off and cause trouble, or if the hide is an unfortunate shade of green- surely no-one would try to club her if she snatched the creature up. And if they did she'd probably tear them a new one.

The wait was more than nerve-wracking. All around her the eagerly shifting eggs were spilling out their contents, new and clumsy, and she kept her steely gaze on the sweet little green for more than a few moments. What a fast bond. Sijard wondered what would have happened to her own green from turns ago if they'd been half as quick as those two. Bitter as she was, Sijard was pleased to see that ugly club stay as far as possible from the youngling.

She cleared her mind when the egg before her damn near jumped. Whatever was inside wanted to get out immediately. Staring down at the thing in a somewhat uncomfortable half-kneel, half-squat, she willed the wherling to push out healthy and strong, but she wasn't even prepared for the gusto invested in breaking the shell. She flinched back as claws flashed and the little blue let out hideous noises, but her heart soared. Look at him. Covered in baby fat, sure, but squat and heavy. And that attitude!

Sijard was overwhelmed and when the wherling locked his gaze onto her own, their minds meshed, his determination nearly knocking her over. She found herself actually stammering. "H-here, here. Look. Food." The bucket was shunted over before him, before little Sijask, who took no pause in diving headfirst into the bloody mixture. Skies above. He was absolutely perfect.


Oh, Reimhart was positively beaming. When it comes to metaphors staining the air, there's nothing like the sweet scent of new babies a-hatching and a solid future decided for their partners. While not old by any means, the man couldn't help but feel like Reimhask's age made them some sort of wher veterans. The bronze was picking up on his handler's spirits and butted the man gently with his thick face. Good day, he crooned and lapped up the chance to have his eyeridge scratched.

More little ones. Is fun to have little ones running about. Can show little ones things!

After last minute deliberations Reim had tucked himself out of the way in some corner of the small wher sands, eager to witness the tiny terrors. Babies were the most exciting.

Excuse Reimhask?

With obvious exceptions.
|
|-[DRAGONRIDERS]
|      |---[AMBER] [DRAGONHEALER]---- R'SUL [OF] RAKYTH [*]
|      |---[SHALE] [WINGRIDER]---------- Y'LEN [OF] BERASATH
|      |---[MARBLE] [WINGTHIRD]-------- T'YOV [OF] SERELATH [*]
|      |---[MARBLE] [WINGRIDER]------- TAICIA [OF] BALFORTH [*]
|      |---[FLINT] [C. MASTER]----------- S'DRA [OF] ECHONOETH [*]
|      |---[COAL] [WINGRIDER]---------- ARRYN [OF] MAHARITH
|
|-[WHERHANDLERS]
|       |---[STEEL] [PATROLLER]--------- SIJARD [OF] SIJASK [*]
|       |---[PEWTER] [WORKER]----- REIMHART [OF] REIMHASK [* - * - *]
|
|-[ONPCS] - [R'EN] / [HL'RAN] / [T'LON] --- [TRACKER]
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Synn Fetale
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"If this is to end in fire, we will all burn together."
Caim
Tag; Kiya + Open


Caim had beamed upon the arrival of Kiya. He knew she hadn't been matched to any of these particular eggs, but he also knew her time would come. “Hey!” he called to her with an enthusiastic wave. He was standing over his assigned egg now, after someone had kindly pointed it out for him. “Kiya, come over here! I think my egg is about to burst!” And he was right. The wrinkled sphere before him was trembling and rocking fearlessly.

Time slowed and he loomed expectantly over the egg, willing it to hatch healthy.

Caim hadn't been aware of the fact that he had been holding his breath until after the jostling egg before him finally crumbled and a little gold-brown nose appeared. The sniffer was quickly followed by a dark brown body and Caim's heart beat quickened as the little wher bumped into his leg.

Crouching low, Caim offered the little baby his palm only to gasp as his mind was breached. His pupils widened and Caim lost his balance. As if the mental contact had some physical affect on him, he fell backward on his butt. Luckily, though, he managed to keep the blood-meal from spilling all over the place.

A realization gripped him, then. “You're hungry!” Duh. Hence the bucket of food.

He presented the baby wher with the pail, tipping it so the quiet youngster could easily dip his snout in and lap at the bloody slop. Feelings of reserved gratitude warmed his mind and he smiled compassionately at the little brown. Tentatively, as he ate, Caim reached out with his palm again and stroked the bony spine of his wher. My wher, he thought proudly.

The little brown gorged himself. Soon, hunger pangs were subsiding. However, he did not stop feasting until there was nothing left in the bucket.

Licking his bloody chops, the little brown looked up at his human. Your's. Caisk my name. Part of you. Caisk murped and wiggled his tail while briefly stretching his stunted wings. Now that he was no longer hungry, he had time to be happy and he let the jovial feelings flow into his rider. Feelings were better than complex words anyway.

Caim's face broke into a smile. The expression was filled with more joy than he had ever been able to express before. “Caisk,” he spoke the name tenderly and scooped the little wher up into his arms, cuddling him.
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randompuppeteer
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The Viridian Mistress
Brielle: Tag Nedeya

Brielle grinned at her friend, nodding at Nedeya’s question. “Yeah, looks like I have one of Crom’s eggs.” The dark circles under her eyes didn’t go unnoticed, but for once the healer didn’t comment; learning to be awake when you usually slept and sleeping when you were usually awake couldn’t be an easy transition for everyone.

She settled down by her egg, feeling a thrill as the first two browns hatched. The gray caught her a bit by surprise, but neither that nor blood could wipe the grin off her face.

The green did. Brielle didn’t even register it came from her egg, only that it was green, her fate decided by her hide. Her only instinct was to gather the little thing in her arms, keep her safe from the world that wanted to hurt her. The healer swallowed back the sudden nausea and looked away, knowing she would be unable to watch the little life be snuffed out.

Brrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiii! Hungryyyyyyyy! Brrrrrrriiiiiii!

A startled gasp escaped Brielle as she brought her eyes back to the bucket, where the tiny green was pawing for food. Briesk hungry! Feed please? Briesk stared up at her plaintively, hunger flooding through the newly formed link.

Oh, sweet Faranth above! Brielle followed her gut reaction, scooping the wherling up into her arms. Briesk clawed at her, gumming her finger, squirming in attempt to get at the food. After one long moment, the healer loosened her grip and let the green start eating. “Shh, it’s okay. No one’s gonna hurt you now.”

No hurt! Briesk confirmed. No hurt Brielle, no hurt Briesk. It was quickly apparent a wherling’s one track mind, however, when she continued, Foooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood. Food good.

The wher’s first meal was soon apparent all over Brielle’s clothing, and a few stray tears leaked down her cheeks, but she couldn’t have cared less about her appearance right then. “Nedeya!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Look! Look at her!” When she caught glimpse of Nedeya’s blue, she gasped. “Look at him!
[align=center]~*Squall Wingsecond Adele and Garnet Reldyth*~~*Granite Wingleader and Vaioan Weyrleader Saralyn and Copper Eparenth*~
~*Opal Weyrling M'tys and Brown Zhoth*~~*Marble Wingthird S'von and Gray Moryth*~~*Shale Wingrider Primi and Green Loeth*~
~*Sandstone Wingrider L'na and Green Aegath*~~*Jade Weyrling Dessah and Black Lessiath*~
~*Coal Wingrider K'dern and Graphite Chenth*~~*Journeywoman Healer Brielle and Green Briesk*~~*Apprentice Healer Sarit*~
~*Candidate Mervi*~~*Candidate Cyaryn*~

ONPCs
~*Granite Wingrider G'ran and Brown Jairth*~~*Marble Wingrider Pi'ren and Blue Yorith*~~*Squall Wingrider Zinna and Green Telnith*~~*Apprentice Dragonhealer E'son and Green Eevith*~~*Miner Oreb and Blue Oresk*~~*Master Beastcrafter Cornelio*~
~*Weyrfolk Sonya*~~*Drudge Arlia*~
(960d0b)(darkorange)(875202)(773e11)(997b66)(3b4990)(3aa75b)(6f9130)(ebfee7)(1a4c33)(Bold)(9ba4ac)(52b0d7)(003300)

The sky's not the limit, 'cause there's footprints on the moon.[/align]
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Ceri
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Probably Lurking
Olimar watched as candidates knelt before their newborn whers, each Impressing without incident. No harm was dealt to any, and all was going well. The stories he had heard of horrifying events at wher hatchings had not come true today! Joyous, indeed. The egg before him started to make noises, a tapping and scratching. Oli knelt down, wanting to help but knowing he couldn't. It seemed the wherling didn't need his help, though, as the moment he had bore a hole, he had pushed his way to freedom. Not the most elegant, but the wherling apparently didn't know his own strength. Oli saw a kindred spirit in him at once.

The brown hesitated for a moment before he spoke, Oli... Olisk... hungry. Olisk closed the gap quickly now, more confident with each passing moment. Before Olimar could react, the newborn had his face in the bucket and was chowing down at a reasonable pace. Olimar, meanwhile, was dumbstruck by the feeling of another mind on his. Olimar felt the aching hunger that Olisk felt as well as the certainty he felt about their new bond. Olisk had the right person, they both knew it. There was no question.

Olimar put a hand on the bucket to keep it from tipping. He reached up with his other hand and placed it tenderly on the thick little neck of his brown wher. Olimar couldn't believe he was so lucky. He had not been here long at all, and he had already gotten himself a wher! Olimar patted his neck gingerly, not wanting to topple the shaky wherling. He noticed the wherling was starting to eat faster as he got further into the bucket. "Slow down, Olisk, you'll get yourself sick!" Olimar chastised his bonded.

Olisk raised his face from the bloody oats and looked up into Olimar's face. The brown wherling's face was dripping with gore; delightful, something Olimar would have to get used to. Olisk burped before responding. Olisk eat slow. He complied happily with a grumble, eyes swirling with more happy and relaxed colours now. He returned to his bloody slop, lapping at it with more grace and refinement than before. Olimar was pleased; he hoped it would always be so easy to instruct this one!

Olimar's head swiveled as he looked from candidate to candidate, or wherling to wherling he should say. He wanted to speak up to the others who had Impressed, but he wanted to keep Olisk to himself more. He imagined others would be having a similar feeling. No, he would keep these first few moments for the two of them. Olisk's wings were twitching awkwardly as he flexed and wiggled around the rim of the bucket; he was fairly graceless and awkward right now. Olimar swiped at some egg goop that clung to Olisk's hide in various spots. He admired the colouring of his brown's hide. His feet were dark and rich in comparison to the dull, ashen brown that dusted most of his upper hide. He was gorgeous, and Olimar loved him dearly, and always would.
Hella, rider of Blue Vejith
P'ri, rider of Blue Myosoth
V'lan, weyrling to Grey Zeyanalth & River
Fera, weyrling to Green Olimiath & Gem
Durran, handler of Blue Dursk & Droplet, Spirit
Olimar, wherling to Brown Olisk & Graal
Thia, Wher Candidate

Harlan, Weyrbrat

Bank + Tracker + Ships
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Esuta
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Spreadsheet Admin
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Tag: Brielle

When told which egg her marks had bought Nedeya looked at it...skeptically. Taking her position, and subtly nudging the egg closer to Brielle while getting situated, she wondered if anything would come out of it at all. Small, shell warped, she had the suspicion eggs didn't look like this naturally. None of the eggs were perfectly oval, but this one was especially lumpy. Should she mention it? Mouth half open she glanced at her friend, only to find the woman watching the first eggs to crack. Oh, right, yes, that should be the concentration. Bucket set slightly behind her to avoid an accident Nedeya stood at attention, worrying only internally.

The first set of arrivals smashed through their eggs and Nedeya watched passively. Brown, brown, a grey she thought just looked mean, and a blood whose hide was eye-catching. It shimmered, and that gleam almost made Nedeya miss the drama happening right in front of her. “Whoa!” was all she had time to exclaim as the green was enveloped in Brielle's arms and the feeding began. Why weren't they..... she scrunched her eyebrows, confused. Weren't greens killed? Not that she was complaining, Brielle looked ecstatic, but hopefully they wouldn't do anything later. If anyone tried maybe they could retreat back to the hold and raise the wherlings at their old home. Whers seemed self-sufficient.

While lost in her thoughts another quartet of eggs cracked. In fact, what brought the woman back to the here and now was the egg at her feet splitting, releasing a tiny blue who would have been impressively confident if it weren't for the face-first collision that signaled his emergence. Nedeya squeaked, moving one foot backwards but being forced to stop when the aggressive lump latched onto her boot with a vengeance.

Taste terrible! Find Nedeysk something better! Nedeysk deserves better!

If the wherling wanted instant obedience it's not what he got. Nedeya froze at the voice in her head, it was whiny and strange and nothing like she'd experienced before because this was somehow deeper then Rebmisk. Also it was chewing on her shoe. Why was it chewing on her shoe? She wiggled the foot hesitantly, trying to dislodge toothless jaws. Perhaps if she'd been less tired the answers would have arrived before the blue could become impatient with the delay, but as it was it took another demand to extract movement from her. Nedeysk need food! Is this part of Nedeya, then not food! Nedeysk should have tastiest food. The blue ended on a grumble as Nedeya finally spoke.

“Food. Yes, food.” She stared at the wher, wheels turning as she tried to decide how best to handle both of the problems at once. “You have to let go for food?” It wasn't a convincing statement, and Nedeysk wanted assurance that there was a better source to fill the aching in his belly before he released the tough surface. "See! Uh. Meat!" She leaned back and carefully scooted the bucket closer to the hatchling. "This is what they said you should have." A sniff and a tongue flicker later the blue agreed, diving into the mush with enthusiasm. Nedeya noticed with some amusement that his posture, even while feasting, remained cocky enough that he might be able to pose like a diva on a moment's notice.

Only after the wher began sating his hunger did Nedeya shake her head and answer Brielle. "She's really pretty." In a slightly delayed reaction she smiled back. "He's wonderful too. Not what I was expecting at all." Sensing he was being spoken of Nedeysk tilted his head to watch the other pair. Nedeysk food best. Everything best. Color best. He scolded. "Of course you're gorgeous." She reassured, patting him on the back, unsure of how one consoled a wher.

Nedeya suspected her life had just become far more interesting.


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Junior Weyrwoman Zahrai of Gold Nazteth : Wingthird Dinion of Garnet Chinesith :
Wingrider Mie of Brown Eybith : Wingrider and Healer Viviette of Blue Tarth :
Wingrider Irinei of Black Zandath : Wingleader Marios of Graphite Nynalth :
Weyrling R'vis of Grey Alasanth : Journeyman Beastcrafter Aeron : Journeyman Harper Tarik
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Krisley
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Sploosh
The eggs were hatching. Sitting on the edge of his cot, shirt half pulled on, Kisaze gazed distantly at the nearest wall. A shiver of uncertainty curled his fingers. In less than an hour, or more, his life might be very different, and certain paths forever closed off. Getting dressed took a backseat to addressing the ramifications of that purely joyful mental shout. Breathing out slowly, he forced himself to consider the facts. His marks were paid, and he’d contributed to the Hold what he could. It had not been a prosperous time, it was true, but a bed had been assured (and a meal) for the duration of his stay. If one of those ugly shells held his wher, there was little that could be done to change it now.

Except one thing. One thing, which would cost both pride and marks, and ruin what reputation he had. He winced to even consider it.

Jovial crooned cheerfully, stupidly pleased with the idea of hatchlings (even if they were whers), and bounced across the sheets behind him. The repetitive twitching eventually brought his attention back around, and he jerked the bedding hard enough to make the flitter stumble. In response to his sad creel, he smiled apologetically.

“They won’t wait, Jove. Enough fooling.”

Blue Jovial was a balm to his worries. He never regretted purchasing his egg, even if a sturdy brown had been his hope at the time. Instantly rebounding, the flit launched into the air, circling patiently while his person shrugged into the rest of his shirt and stood, then landed upon his sewn on pad with a pleasant wiggle. Tapping him on the head, Kisaze set off. Enough fooling, indeed.

As an early riser, he ought to have had a certain advantage for getting to the ramshackle ‘hatching sands’. That day, though, others were already about. Eying the other candidates as he slipped into the room and stood politely to one side, shoulders dipped deferentially to the full Handlers’ authority, he reflected that they were an odd crew. Of all backgrounds, genders, body types. He did not stand out so much here, amongst scars and hopes. It was… nice, that way.

When tasked to take a pail, he did so, squishing again the coil of uncertainly beneath the blue’s joy as he settled on his knees. His gazed locked on the egg before him. To get a pail meant only one thing, as far as the Masterminer was concerned. Well, hopefully. Hatchlings had final say, as the records attested, and culling was unavoidable. He hoped a green did not spill out of his egg; it was rocking hard, ugly wrinkled shell shaking- and then suddenly spilling apart, much to his shock. A part of him relaxed- there would be no need to hold himself in place while the club descended- and then went taught again. The handsome, chubby brown wher did not pay him immediate mind.

Was he… meant to get his attention?

As he wondered, the situation solved itself. Fooooooooood! Abruptly, wark and all, there was bloody porridge spilt down his knee, and a brown wher draped possessively over the lip of the bucket and subsequently one of his legs. The heavy weight was as much confirmation as the voice that spiralled through his thoughts.

Ki-sa-zesk eat food! And suddenly, a hunger he didn’t even know wasn’t his own was being sated.

Rather numb to it, the feeling nothing like attaching Jovial, Kisaze shifted the bucket to better allow the wherling access. Such a… pudgy creature. Not at all like the miniatures he’d heard dragons hatched as. He spoke without thinking. “So, are you staying with me, then? Nothing else fascinating?”

Kisazesk just kept munching away, stretching to reach farther and farther down into the bucket and splaying one leg out in a rather comical way. Eventually, he pulled his head out, slowly licking his muzzle, and fixed buggy eyes on the young man, smearing one bloody paw across his thigh in the process. He cocked his head. More food?

“I can get you more later.” After some cleaning up and a nap, he imagined. If the wher was anything like Jovial as an infant, eating and sleeping would be his only goals for the next few sevendays.

That seemed to suit the hatchling. Stay! Back into the bucket he went with a burble of happiness, pushing so far in that with a bit of wiggling, the man managed to free his legs and sit on the floor, hand supporting the lip. A glance inside showed little left past the rolling shoulders. Another showed the eggs demolished, and candidates scattered around the room tending their new partners. Jovial chose that moment to chirp, softly, eyes whirling. He was so low on his pad, he was practically hiding behind Kisaze's shoulder.

The young man pressed his cheek to his hide, sending comforting thoughts. Silly blue. All happy for hatchlings, only to be overwhelmed by one. There was no turning back now- they'd all have to learn how to work together.
Rider E'vin / Grey Vynath / 776855
Rider Tara / Green Luinth / 89C35C
Handler Kisaze / Brown Kisazesk / 7F462C
Rider G'mar / Brown Benesoth / 9C8159
Handler Nira / Brown Nirask / BA9D6E
Rider Ashley / Black Udroth / Bold
Rider H'nrick / Copper Krizth / FF8C00
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