2024-07-27 - Shining, Shimmering, Splendid

It is time.

The air is alive, humming with a song of hope and new beginnings. Welcoming new souls to life under the sunny sky. This is where one journey ends and a new fantastic, uncertain, musical, and wonderful, one begins.

It is time.

The song spurs movement - gentle at first, testing known boundaries and finding give where before there had been none. Emboldened, they push more firmly, limbs extending outward.

With the very air itself reverberating around them, Synnevath feels a deep and ancient urgency pulsing through her bones like nothing she's ever felt before. A compulsion to act. The wisp of connection that she felt before is faint, but it's there: the sensation is as alluring as it is magnetic. It's there, she can feel it... she just needs to get to it first. her very heart swelling until it's clear now, it's so clear to her now more than ever that this very space that has cradled her all of this time could hold her no longer. But the task now is the biggest one of all: she must be freed of this place - what's important now is out there.

The moment Gwillanth relaxes her hold, Courth starts shaking. It's not like the earthquake, when getting OUT was a challenge born of desperation, this is a need he feels in his bones and drives him to scratch and throw himself at the boundaries of shell.

'Speak up when you get out! Let us know what it looks like, out there!' he demands – yells, really. It's a strange world out there, and he wants to be prepared.

Misogauth twists about in her egg, and her wings brush against the confines of her shell. 'Why won't this shell give way?' She hisses her irritation to her fellow eggs.

Auth was tense. This waiting was getting too much. They felt so confined, so trapped, so helpless. They needed out. They needed out NOW.

Myrcelleth shifted within the shell of his egg, his egg, not something he wanted to leave yet. Not something he wanted to abandon into the cruelty of the world. This was too soon and yet, he felt how much he outgrew his egg even in the past few hours. Time was palpable and something one could practically taste. It was soon to be time and the small bundle of nerves has already begun to spark like live wires.

The restless energy that Neath's been feeling for the past week intensifies so suddenly it feels itself jerk as it wakes. It had thought it was bad before, but this... It squirms, frustrated and unhappy - what had happened? Why is it suddenly so much worse? The shell of its egg bulges and shifts around it, but it does not break.

Knuadth can hear the humming. It reaches in, buoys him up. He had been a little afraid of the hatching, but now? Now, he’s glad to be here, to be welcome. He’ll just wait a little longer, for more of his siblings to emerge.

He tries to roll and curl himself a bit tighter as he waits, but there’s very little space, and all his limbs are hopelessly tangled… he keeps trying, feeling the shell rock and shift around him. So tight and close, so brittle.

Tasted Fire knows what's happening. At first it doesn't move. But then, slowly, it twists in its shell.

This egg. Now that they were ready to get out of the egg... it was so much more difficult than they expected.

'Let us out already, you imbecilic shell!'

Muxiaoth was having none of this.

It had been so frustrating that Mother kept telling her to wait. Wait? No! Xlyoth needed to get OUT. The others wanted to get out too. What were they waiting for?

Suddenly there was no more wait, only GO.

There is only a slight movement from Challeanoth, the egg barely twitching. It might be time to come out, but the one inside is not quite ready.

She had been waiting for this for so long. Now, it was time. carefully, she wiggles at her shell, trying to decide where the best place to focus her efforts would be

Diath would not describe herself as rushing, not in comparison to some of her clutchmates, but even her excitement, need to be Out and looking for Hers, permeates the air as she pushes against her shell. One area has more give, but she can't get a good angle and spits mental ice as she tries.

From its position amidst the group, the Flamboyant Facets Foretell Fated Fortunes egg barely gives a twitch. The humming all around bolsters them, gives them strength and a sense of urgency. Now, now is the time -- the world around seems to say. And yet, yet it remains still after only the barest of quivers. As if the dragonet within is focused less on hatching and more on repositioning itself, twisting within its prison.

Haozieth fought bitterly against the too small shell. "I want out!" He wails loudly as he continues wriggling and kicking at the confining shell.

Finally! Jjezreth felt a sudden shift like something had finally released. It was time! It started to wriggle as best as it could as it broadcast its excitement at the prospect of freedom.

Xijemynth wriggles in her moorings. Soon - Soon! Her claws flex, wings stretch as far as they can go. she can almost taste the outside through the rift in her shell...

Oh come on, let it be now! -- Liorenth calls. The Nutshell egg is rocking now, having been turned one last time the night before. He tries to twist around, poke at the shell. The humming increases in intensity. He is so excited now. Sun, I will see you soon!!

Jinth sits in his egg for a bit, wanting out into this new not-darkness world but fearful of leaving the old and fearful of the new. The old darkness is comfortable, but the price is constriction in ways he really really doesn’t like. So the new it is.

I STILL DON'T KNOW YOUR NAME, Kanyoth yells to a familiar voice {Courth].

Admittedly, it does amuse him a bit that everyone is feeling what he's been feeling for sevendays now, but mostly he just wants OUT. He's willing to oblige his companion if he happens to get out first. He'd better be one of the first, with how hard he's been working since long before this day. His egg begins to rock back and forth, slow and steady, in time with the hum, gathering his strength for what he intended to be one final push.

Xlyoth was uncomfortable. The egg was too small now; stifling and confining. She scrabbled against the calcium-rich shell, finally getting purchase, scoring it, cursing it for still being in her way.

The shell gave way, suddenly, and Xyloth burst through and into the brilliant morning light. Blinking, she looked around. She. Was first. Interesting.

She took a few steps away from the cradle she no longer needed, looking for the candidates who’d impressed (she was quite amused at her own word choice, thankyouverymuch) her the most, and heard some comments about a green. Xlyoth stole a quick look at her paws and saw they were green. She was green. Okay. This was fine. Better than fine. Xlyoth straightened up her shoulders. Green was just as good as every other color, probably better.

The yell makes Courth pause in confusion. Was Kanyoth just...deaf? 'COURTH,' he belts back. 'YOU'RE KANYOTH?' He yells louder mostly to match the other egg's energy, but also because yelling makes him feel better about not managing to make a dent in the shell. He knows something is happening out there, though, Pertemarth is talking about she.

'Can anyone see the sky?!'

The jubilation from the debut of a clutchmate seems to give Synnevath renewed vigor. Was it always so cramped in here? Shall I join Xlyoth too? She alternates pulsing a newfound strength through her limbs, it seems to be the easiest way now as her egg is now rocking, with a sense of urgency. To the onlookers, they might spy upon its gleaming shell the deep striations that appear in neat lines across the surface now as the egg cracks apart, pearlescent white across the deeper hues of its shell. The egg is intact, however, still refusing to reveal the treasure within. It's still anyone's guess as to the hue of the creature. Synnevath perceives, for the very first time, Gwillanth receding away from her like a tide out to see, and in the great absence left, a new feeling blossoms - is this existential dread she's feeling, or is she just hungry? None of this is how she imagined it would be.

Around, all around, Tasted Fire knew things were happening. It could feel its heat rising. It made more movements, stilling as it heard things from outside. Outside its shell.

I AM KANYOTH, she yells back. XLYOTH GOT OUT FIRST. HEY XLYOTH, HOW'S THE SKY LOOKING? IT'S SUNNY, RIGHT?

Xyloth!! You are out? Is it wonderful? Is it bright and musical and how many people ARE there? The fact that it was one of its Near Others that hatched first just tickled Ilrioth. Soon, soon he would join her.

Ugh. Kanyoth. She wanted to be out before Kanyoth. One of the others managed it, and she would too. Scrabbling at her shell, Azimuth did her best to pace herself, just in case

Maybe hatching wouldn't be so bad. Their siblings wanted to hatch, and they wanted to be with them, so perhaps...

Challeanoth tapped the sides of their egg, testing the solidness. There was a part of her that didn't really want to leave the egg, it was what they knew, and out there, as much as they had tried to listen and learn, was the unknown.

She didn't really like the idea of the unknown.

However, she does answer Courth. "Not yet!" They do want to see the sky.

It takes Neath a moment to realise that it's happening now. One of its siblings changes somehow, the crowd reacts - she's out. Panic and anticipation start warring in its mind. It tries to reach Xlyoth, then pulls back. It doesn't want to know yet. Everything in its own time.

Was Xyloth first? Xyloth was first! She'd expected Kanyoth, honestly... Still, as she continued with her failing efforts Diath sent a wave of pride and happiness to her way.

Oh, has someone already hatched? Knuadth listens carefully to the outside din - as best as he can, with all the others shouting as loudly as possible.

"Some of us might want to hear things for ourselves," he says, aggrieved.

Myrcelleth craned his neck within the constraints of his too-small shell, his egg. Why were they yelling- why were so many people yelling now? Why was it suddenly becoming so loud? Why could he hear Pertemarth - beloved Mother’s beloved favourite, calling about how beautiful ‘she’ was. Who was she? Was she Mother? No - this cannot be right- Xlyoth! Xlyoth was out first! Words dried up within his throat and he found himself shrivelling up.

Auth flexed in their egg, pressing every body part against the shell. They had not been first, another had broken free before them. One. That was fine. There were many candidates, they would still have many options. Xyloth could be first, they were sure she would not take any they were interested in.

Auth's siblings were doing an awful lot of yelling at one another now. Was there a purpose to that? Shouldn't they be focusing their energy on hatching?

It didn't matter. As long as Auth got out sooner rather than later, let them yell.

A group of weyrfolk, no more than four drudges and siblings all, cheered as the first dragon broke her shell. Green or no, after all this clutch had been through, to see life coming forth from such a tragedy was a heartfelt moment in and of itself. "Oh, she's darling!" Ivyela, the senior of the four siblings, called out in jubilation.

"Beautiful!" Others joined her.

"Go on, girl! Impress! You can do it!"

Other encouragement joined in, willing the darling green to make her choice. Not pushy so much as they simply wished for her to find her destined person and live.

As the crowd reacts, Liorenth pauses. He reaches out to the clutch, tries to count who is here - but counting past 5 is still a bit hit and miss. Someone said it is Xyloth? He sends excited noises. Gathers his strength again for another go at the shell.

Alaphiath rearranges herself in the egg, not particularly urgently. They want out, but not as desperately as some of her clutchmates. The light through the thin, cracked place was tempting but everyone was being loud. Not fun.

'Xlyoth? How did you do it? Help me get out of this sharding egg!'

Please. Anything to get away from Courth's ever-present questioning. It had only gotten worse after the incident...

It came quickly upon Myrcelleth. The noise, the hustle and bustle, the many minds practically chanting at them. It was beyond overwhelming. The egg housing him shuddered, cracks appearing along the surface before Myrcelleth suddenly burst out in a flurry of limbs, egg shell and primordial gunk. He was blind! He could not see! He let out a panicked scream, twisting clumsily to cover himself up, to hide away, careless as to who he was smacking away in the meantime. It was so bright, so hot on their skin! How could Mother stand this?

He stumbled like the newborn that he was, raising his head to try and peer around, but he kept having to squint his red eyes shut, unable to stand it. They couldn’t even focus on the lovely smell of the area, just the fact that without the barrier of the egg, is was so loud.

Jinth heard the shouts of those out In the not-darkness. Were the minds he tasted and observed over the last several days there now? Was His there now?

He struggled harder against the shell that kept him safe and in prison at the same time.

HI KANYOTH Xijemynth yells into the ether. Someone else had hatched first! She was vaguely jealous, she had wanted to be first, and twisted in her egg in response.

Myrcelleth. Ilrioth's voice is softer this time, It is okay. Take your time. You are out and it is big and new and different. You do not have to take it fast. All will be well.

HI XIJEMYNTH, Kanyoth yells back. WE'VE GOT TWO GREENS AHEAD OF US. YOU ARE GREEN, RIGHT MYRCELLETH? YOU KEPT SAYING SO.

Myrcelleth's panic reaches Neath quickly and hurts it to the core. How it wants to go to him now, but it's just not time. Instead, it reaches to him with its mind to soothe: I will be there soon. Misogauth will be there soon. Everything will be okay. You just have to wait, it tells him, squirming in its shell. You will be fine.

'Loud', Seth grumbled to the group. 'You're all so loud. Shut up. You're being a distraction.'

Whether or not they meant it for themselves, or for those who had already broken shell, was unable to be determined.

The sky is beautiful. Xlyoth said, mostly to Courth, but really to all of them. It's bright and lovely!

She turned back to look at the wreckage of her egg and saw the colors of her clutchmates' cradles, some bright, some dull, some cracked and some cracking... and Myrcelleth came out screaming. She bounded over to him, extending her wings to shade him.

I am here! I will help! Xlyoth's words were strong evergreen boughs resisting the wind.

She was free! And he was too!

"You did it!" Jjezreth called out, "hold on, just give me a moment and I'll be out too!"

Another hatched! Auth growled to themselves. How were they getting out faster than them? What were they all doing that they could not??

Liorenth hears the crowd again, feels the panic of the newborn. //Listen! They love you - they welcome you, Mycelleth..." -- an unusually sympathetic send.

Myrcelleth practically sobbed at the shade, at the cover. He was not green. He was not green and that was all that he knew. How could he face any of them now?

I’m blue… He managed to choke out, still struggling not to flail when Xlyoth approached, cared and loved him.

The yelling continues, heedless of the sudden shock of Myrcelleth's panic, sharp and cutting. Knuadth retreats as best as he can, with a weary huff of low-lying cloud for everyone who is still insistent on shouting their every thought.

Yes, he's more than happy to keep waiting. Maybe Kanyoth will finally get out soon and be able to stop screeching.

The roars of the crowd as his siblings hatch spurs Haozieth to greater heights of struggle. "I can't see anything! What's happening? I'm missing the show!" He continues to wail.

Courth reaches so eagerly towards Xlyoth's description it hurts, static embracing as much as it sparks. 'Thank you! Thank you for telling us!' Now he had something to aim for...

Myrcelleth's distress hit like a stone, stilling Diath's actions for a moment. In a moment she was sending off attempts to soothe, redoubling her efforts and changing her angles.

You are wonderful.

Well, I guess you don't pick colors after all, Kanyoth noted to Xijemynth. BLUE'S GREAT, MYRCELLETH. PERTEMARTH'S BLUE, AND WE ALL KNOW HE'S THE BEST. YOU WILL ALSO BE THE BEST.

Tasted Fire could hear all of its siblings striving to get out, and some were... angry? That they hadn't broken shell first? Psh. Tasted Fire drew inward, trying to ignore its siblings as it shook and moved and prodded at its shell. So far, it seems unforgiving. But soon, a crack will form. Tasted Fire knows this. If everyone else would just stop freaking out!

'Who cares what color you are,' Seth's grouchy voice called out from their egg. Unknowing if they could be heard or not. 'You are Myrcelleth. That is all that matters.'

Blue. He's blue. That's fine. Neath can be blue too, if he needs it to be. Pertemarth is blue, it assures Myrcelleth through the clamour. You are blue too, and I love you.

The Bounded in a Nutshell egg rocks on its base a couple of times, then the top shatters and the shell cracks open, spilling a small damp brown dragonet out onto the ground in a shower of eggshell. He rolls over and struggles to his feet with a shake of his delicate head, pitching to one side and scrabbling at the ground for purchase. Finally he extends stubby wings and beats the air for balance, showing off gorgeous coloured stripes of russet, mushroom and white. Seeing that showing his wingspan gets a reaction from the crowd, Liorenth pauses, sets his head at a jaunty angle and flares his wings dramatically again, taking his time to look around. One of his front legs looks to be shorter than the other, with the foot distorted - that would be why he's working on the balance thing. Yes! I am here! - he communicates triumphantly to the clutch. Then laughs. So bright! Sun! - After a pause, a slight but definite inflection in tone. So many people ... so loud. THEY LOVE ME! Oh this is amazing ... - he glances back at Gwillanth and the other eggs.

"...is that a Bad Thing?" Azimuth paused in her work to reach out to Myrcellath. She had thought that blue was Good, like Father Pentemarth? Oh good, Kanyoth was being sensible and pointing it out, as were a few others. She would wait to help Myrcellath until she was out, then

Myrcelleth finally cracks his eyes open, even just a touch, even just to see. It was so bright. It was beautiful. They were all beautiful.

There's another one soon after - one Neath does not know as well, but one it is equally happy to feel hatch. It knows not what colour he is - it's too focused on its own restlessness to probe, though it's stopped struggling in its egg for now. It reaches to him and sends its approval: Of course they love you. They love all of us. Whether that's a good thing, it still isn't sure, but its siblings don't need to know that.

Blue like morning and Blue like midnight, you are beautiful Xlyoth promised. Can you tell where your person is?

Xlyoth knew who she wanted, but helping Myrcelleth was first. and then Muxiaoth if they still needed her. Keep trying, Muxi!

You are beautiful, Myrcellenth, Azimuth, Xyloth. I am so eggstatic to meet you all face to face at last! Exskyted, even! Ilrioth hums, his own small voice adding to the great thrumming all around.

The dragonsong, the human audience, the fever pitch of it all, the way the sun above seems to warm the Through Deep Water Still Shines The Sun just so as Synnevath's rocking cadence sways it wider and wider... there is a sudden unceremonious -SNAP- as the shell loses its integrity, as a dark, damp foreleg thrusting its way out of the shell and into the sand, making it difficult to guess with certainty just what this dragonet is. "Cold! You could have warned me" is her first exclamation- no deep words of wisdom, no deep pearls of thought, just the indignity of hatching here. She senses two great beacons now: Mother, whose great golden aura seemed to suffuse everything, seems to fade in its intensity. A brief shudder: Synnevath's mind flickered to a terrifying image of the sky falling upon them, but- wait, did that actually happen, or was it a bad dream?
The second beacon, it's out there still, she can't let it slip away!
She's thrumming in celebration of her clutchmates, and the feeling she would soon understand to be hunger begins to gnaw at her from the inside out, making Synnevath wroth with a newfound anger. This is NOT nice, none of this is easy! She retracts her exposed arm back into her eggshell, bringing with it a bristling of sand and mess. She would curse every grain if she could.

Myrcelleth couldn’t look around yet, couldn’t think about their person quite yet. I’m blue.
They are more confident this time, this was something they were sure of now. There were no more questions now. They knew.
I’m blue! Devastation still overwhelming, turning to delight and then back again.

Blue, not blue – love, not love. Courth can feel some of the disappointment happening, but it's the descriptions he yearns for. Who cares about the things they can't change! It's the world they can interact with.

'Well, if you're hanging about, give us a bit more than that!' he yells at Liorenth. 'Bright how? How!'

Everyone was hatching so fast. Muxiaoth wanted to join them, quick before they were left alone. Sure, sure, they preferred not to be noticed most of the time, but if they were last, well that was a completely different story.

They were distracted, in the moment, by Ilrioth. 'I love your silly fake words, Ilrioth.'

Panic was starting to grip Auth's heart as they struggled against their confinement. More were hatching, more were seeing the world and getting a chance to see the candidates before them. Auth hadn't even taken notice of what colours they'd revealed themselves to be, did colours really matter? At least none of them were actively searching for a life partner. That was good. There was still time.

The humming was growing louder as more eggs wobbled and cracked. Auth was straining against their shell trying to join the others. It was all happening faster than expected!

Oh sweet mother golds, it's the puns, Kanyoth moaned. Love you Ilrioth. Even if you drive me crazy sometimes. I'M PRETTY SURE IT'S BRIGHT BECAUSE IT'S SUNNY COURTH, BUT I'M NOT OUT YET.

"Blue is good, green is good, brown is good," she called softly. It didn't matter what color her siblings were, she just couldn't wait to meet them.

The blue shell cracks unevenly, thicker lines driving the crack off at odd angles, and as a result Courth is thrown onto the sands in a heap. No purposeful burst from his confines, no confident step and orientation. It is an ungracious flop, leaving him sand covered and poked by shell.

For a long moment he just…lays there. Dazed by the lights, shivering at the feeling of wind over his hide, legs twitching. His hide feels static and it makes him close his eyes to get himself under control again and…Oh, right. Breathing. The weyrlingmasters must be getting nervous by the time Courth takes a long, wheezing breath – and that, too, is overwhelming. Lungs expand, the last remnants of egg fluid is snorted away, the smell of warm weyr and sweaty bodies fills his nose. The air has a taste that is as oddly familiar as it is alien.

The world feels brighter in ways that aren’t physical, too. It’s…louder. That, more than the hunger, more than the need to see what is happening elsewhere on the sands, drives Courth to drag himself to his feet. It’s as ungraceful a movement as his first break from the shell. His legs tremble and shake.They don’t all seem to move at the right time. A wing is caught on a bit of shell. Spinning to snap at it, Courth catches sight of himself and has to add colour to the list of overwhelming stimulation.

’Green?!’

Courth shrieks.

Jinth had learned so much in the (mostly) safe darkness of his life, about who he was, what he liked, and what he didn’t, the not-darkness in the strange world outside, and the patterns of it all.

But now the edges of his world cramped against his body, painfully smashing him into a smaller space. He had to get out. It was a scary change, but staying had its own unwanted price to pay. So….

Jinth began clawing against the shell, finding a weak spot to create the small fractures to turn into larger cracks that let knives of light shatter the eternal darkness forever. A little more pushing, clawing and kicking….

Suddenly he was free of his old constricting world of darkness as he fell to the ground, panting. The old patterns were no more; now there were new patterns to be found. After a few minutes he gathered his feet under him and stared at them.

Brown. Not the color he was expecting himself to be, ultimately. Jinth took a look at the protecting shell that imprisoned him for so long, noting the layered patterns on the outside surface and the white inside surface. It was pretty while it was intact, he thought.

He sat down and studied the white robed humans in front of him, the ones he’d been told to look through and choose from. He was in no hurry; he had a bit of time to look them over and see the land he found himself in. Then he’d go find His.

Liorenth sneezes suddenly, shakes his head and takes another breath. That's better. He stands and tries a step or two, getting the hang of keeping his weight back as the front end hops forwards. He adds, after a pause, encouragingly ... So pretty Myrcellet, Xyloth. Then adds - many people colours. Come on, come on! He moves towards the white robed candidates.

Another hatched, and Tasted Fire could feel the energy of the rest of the eggs seep into its shell. Tehy were all excited to hatch, but it was actually trying to hatch. Another turn 'round its shell, it pushed and prodded some more. And around it, more eggs burst as their 'father' yelled at them. It hissed to itself, heat pulsing. It would hatch in time. But hopefully without its 'father' yelling at it.

Suddenly in his idle twisting, the pinched part of the shell sags, and Knuadth's hind legs burst through. Now he can roll, and he tumbles from the little heap of sand. The egg that had seemed so solid splinters away, and with only a little wobbling push Knuadth raises his head and sees. The light! The movement! The candidates, all alike from here, and all his kin in all their colours, and –

He has a colour now too, and it’s not gold! Not the darker sheens of what must be the bronzes, either, and not blue or green – so he must be brown. What a relief. No one has told him about brown, so it can mean anything at all. He rather likes the warmer ripples of his hide, like light on water, or sand in wind.

He still would like to wait, though, just a little – he quickly scuttles back, ducking behind the larger eggs to block out some of the sights and noise.

Myrcelleth couldn’t help but breathe out a silly, delighted, manic laugh as he heaved for breath, his wings still twitching. His siblings were here, they were all coming out and they were beautiful.

I love you all! He announced in his delirious delight, wavering on the spot. I love you all and I can’t wait to meet you! This was another thing he was certain of.

The sound of Yuakajith's voice in his mind makes Haozieth livid. "SHUT UP YOU BRONZE! WE ARE WORKING ON IT!" He screeches back.

Yuakajth. Ugh, no thanks. Muxiaoth really hoped they weren't a bronze. They didn't want to be anything like him, thanks.

And then... Courth Hatched.

Muxiaoth was both pleased and horrified. Courth was out first. They would never hear the end of it. But... maybe... it would be okay to wait.

WHAT'S WRONG WITH GREEN??? Kanyoth yells at Courth. GREEN IS GREAT. ANYONE WHO SAYS OTHERWISE CAN FIGHT ME. Also, you can hide behind me if you want, Knuadth.

Liorenth hesitates. He feels Yuakajith's disappointment and it hits him hard. But that's not fair ...

If an egg could sneer, Azimuth sneered "I would have words for you if you could hear me, Yukajith. You do know that you probably aren't even our real father, right?"

You could be a color outside the egg that you didn't think you were inside the egg? That was upsetting. Alaphiath curled tighter in her egg. She was blue, she was!

Yuakajth dares to speak, and Neath wants, not for the first time, to bite him. It focuses instead on its newly-hatched siblings, spurred forth all at once, too many to keep track of at the same time. One is green, given his loud, dramatic reaction (Hmph...) but the others... It knows not and cares not. It doesn't matter.

A clatter of a shift in minds rolls over her as Diath settles on pushing up, more siblings hatching and Courth specifically yelling. She can't yet bugle, but the feel of it is in her mind, the need to see their glory for all to see.

Green is good! she encourages. You're small, you'll reach all the places, see all the things!

Bronze-Father's disappointment over the lack of bronzes was felt by all. Auth shrugs it off. They don't care about colour. They are themselves no matter what colour they end up hatching.

But more siblings were hatching now and Auth was panicking.

How are you getting out so quickly?! they demanded of no one in particular, scratching at the sides of their egg.

Three! So many at once, triplet notes down a scale, each part of a larger, wonderous song. They are far clearer than Father's yelling, and much nicer to listen to, anyhow. Courth's shock elicits a soft, lilting laugh. Well I, for one, am green with envy you have met the sky. I will join you all very soon, I promise.

Just then, another song catches his attention. Could it be-? Yes! Rioth had met the sky as well! Rioth, sing for me! What is of note?

Myrcelleth, now regaining some confidence, stumbles his little self over to his siblings, over to his loves. He did not care about the Bronze’s disappointment. He did not care to please him. He just wanted everyone to be okay now.

It is so bright- and warm, there are so many colours, you will love it- I don’t know how it happened but it was so quick, so sudden!! He remembered the sheer thirst for information that they all had.

(clean up later tag~)

There had been a crack. When she wriggled or danced, she tried to avoid shifting the membrane too much, even as it grew more and more difficult to do much of anything in her egg at all. That the shell might break but the thing between her and the shell should stay intact or she would be very, very hurt.

She had gotten in the habit of trying to bunch herself up as far away from it as she could, though it was a losing battle by the day. Still, it was in this unwieldy position that Rioth began to drift to sleep when the hum began.

It was Mother at first, singing a song of love and welcome and Rioth caught herself humming back, her throat swelling soundlessly in her attempts to answer it. Then it was Pertemarth. Then the other queens. And one by one, dragons she knew and dragons she had yet to meet joined in.

It was low, it was gentle, it was personal and universal and timeless all at once - and it was designed to coax her out.

So she danced. And she rocked. It was a gentle sway at first and she even hummed a little invitation for the others, especially the artful Ilrioth, join.

And then the membrane ripped and an elbow and then a startled little arm and claw burst free - "OH-" OH!- - flailing and flexing in the sudden space. She quickly withdrew it and twisted, biting and tearing with her snout and hands where the shell met the space, eyes whirling and sparking with agitation until the rest of that spidered crack gave in under her weight, something large, white and hot burst and overwhelmed her vision, and the little dragonet tumbled out nose over tail into the sunshine with a shout.

Another few moments to register her surroundings and that burst made sense. This was sand, this was the sky, that was their sun and she was on her side, wrapped in her wings, cheek buried in the sand, and surrounded by humans and other dragons. It was better than any dream or stolen sense - this was what it was like to SEE.

Oh I LIKE this! She crowed, flinging herself free from the crumbling remains her confines at last with a powerful scream, kick and lunge, pausing only to pant and flex her limbs and digits after that sudden exertion.

Brown.

She ripped the word straight from the mouths and minds of the multitude. A big brown.

Immense relief comingled with some mournfulness at the news. It was the final confirmation; she'd not known she was still holding onto a scrap of doubt about her own color. Yet it was also freeing, and so with eyes awhirl with color and adjusting to her new outdoor surroundings, she looked.

She looked at one wing first, and then the other as she stretched and shook. She was brown like the desert Weyr around them; and ripples like wind across the Dunespike sand danced in dark pools on each wing.

Brown like Ertineth. But she would never allow herself to become consumed by it like Ertineth.

She continued to examine, finding a dark saddle accentuated by the same windswept dunes, and a cream belly; the same cream that decorated her palms and the bottoms of her back feet.

She was brown and so, so beautiful. And large! Why had nobody outside ever talked or thought about how beautiful brown was?

Truly, it was their loss.

Eyes continuing to adjust in the sunlight, she turned to focus on her siblings, wriggling and biting and charging out of their own shells. Blue, brown, green - and each one was lovely and unique. Rioth greeted them with audible trills before she clambered properly to stand on four rapidly-steadying limbs, and then again onto her haunches, spreading her wings wide, broad muscles quivering with excitement and the muted pain of stretching them for the first time.

She was regal, she was enormous, with well-defined muscles and shapes - even across a slightly less developed foreleg. She was stately. Queenly, even.

Rioth sucked in air and bugled as loud as she could, coupling it triumphantly with a mental belt.

I am FREE. And I am HEEEEEEEERE~

And there was music even in those bugles. She hooted a quick little hoot after the last hint of her shout had died down, just for further emphasis. She liked those noises, too. This was so GOOD.

Hello, Mother! Hello, Pertemarth! Ilrioth, are you here yet? Yjeth! Everyone! Show me how beautiful you are!

Rioth was giddy! Finally, to see as much as she could see and finally see and feel all of these things that she had only gathered through borrowed thoughts and drifting dreams. To see all of these people, human and dragon, to be near them finally, and see her siblings crawl into the sunlight...she had never felt so full.

And yet, she had never felt so empty, either. Something was missing. And the more she lingered, the more it gnawed away at her head and her heart.

And here was where some doubts started to creep in.Rightio.

She dropped back to all fours, and began to walk towards the humans that surrounded them, head held high and mouth open. She was an incredibly vocal dragon already, the hums and trills accentuating her thoughts, her mental net flung far and wide

There were so many MORE than just those at the Touching, here. What if she couldn't find who she liked? What if she chose wrong?

You're here, aren't you? I KNOW you're here, I felt you come in. I remember how you felt...and it is all right, I am here, now! I WILL find you.

Muxiaoth reached out to Auth.

'I don't know how they're doing it but if you figure it out will you tell me?'

Jinth continued to look around himself, identifying some of the voices he (dimly) recalled from his egg. That large shiny gold one there, that must be Mother, with her preferred mate. He bugled a greeting to them, happy to see them at last and put a face to their mindprints.

Kanyoth's offer is almost a kind one. Knuadth finds out he can twitch and lash his tail, and is preoccupied in doing this back and forth, studying how it makes a trailing path in the sand.

"I would," he says carefully. "But you are hatching soon anyways." And again, is far too loud to linger by. He hesitantly takes a few faltering steps, to skulk in Haozieth's shadow for now. But motion has awakened some odd feelings... such sharp hungers, pangs like loss, or fear.

'They expect things from Green,' Courth wails back at Kanyoth, struggling to get his feet under himself now he's walking. He doesn't want to leave the safety of being among the eggs at the speed he's currently moving at, but he can't help it. 'And it IS the sun, but it's also rock, I think...'

He falls over on the sands trying to squint up at the horde of dragons covering every surface.

More hatched around Tasted Fire. Their own fire grew. Flared. Crashed at the inner edges of its shell. It hissed and turned once more inside its shell, again and again. 'Just... a little... more!' It growls.

Rioth was out now too? Damnit he was still stuck, he needed to see the hatching! See his siblings finally. Haozieth resumes his frantic kicking.

The shell holds, buckles, then breaks, autumn-hued pieces falling away to reveal its precious contents.

They squint in the sun as the world comes into focus, wings reaching up towards a matching sky. This is, he is-!

Blue! I am blue and I am here! A voice as sweet as any Harper’s song calls to a newly revealed world. I am here!

Ultramarine and indigo striped through with blazing cyan contrasts pale sand as surely as any summer day. Bright eye sweep the sands, taking in Candidate, eggs, and fellow newborns alike. The weakness of new legs does not stop him from flap-hopping his way across sand, touching minds, shells, and bodies alike.

Rioth! Are you there? What a glorious day, what glorious music! It trills out, then to its nearest compatriots, Muxiaoth, Xlyoth, Auth! Join me in song!

Amongst the Candidates, they pay special attention to those it had connected with at Touching. But he does not choose, not yet. It is not quite ready to settle down, not when everything is still so new and bright.

Some of the singers are next and Neath regards them with fondness, but it is glad they don't expect everyone to sing with them. It's all it can do to keep itself still, to force itself into calmness with two words, repeated over and over: not yet.

They expect things from every color, Kanyoth pointed out to Courth. You can make them put those expectations up their tailfork. To between with all of that. Also, it's good that there's rock, if there was no rock I'd be worried. No rock basically means no ground.

"I think I almost have how to get out figured out," Jjezreth said with absolute confidence, despite not really feeling all that much closer. "Once I'm out I'll tell you all how I did it."

Auth felt Muxiaoth reach out to them. Restlessly they squirmed in frustration.

I can't... I just.. don't know how to...

They growled angrily. Angry at themselves for not being able to escape and angry at the world for being out there while they were stuck in here.

Muxiaoth hears Ilrioth hatch, hears the song. Despite their determination to just get the heck out of this egg, they trill at Ilrioth from inside their egg too. We hear you!!

Making his way now towards the candidates, the little brown is limping but determined. His jaw is set. He sits back on his haunches and considers a small group, the joy of hatching shifting into a vague anxiety now. Something is missing - he does remember some of these candidates - but which one? He listens to the others hatching, calls back a trill that is supposed to be encouraging.

'They can shove between with their expectations,' Seth chimed in, once more giving their two-marks where it wasn't wanted. 'You owe them nothing!'

In song? In song?! Auth had no time to sing!! They were using every ounce of energy they possessed to be free of this hateful place!

Myrcelleth feels the candidates, their minds, their eyes, all peering, all searching. They did not approach any of them, humming a sweet tune under his breath to calm himself. He needs none of them, despite the ache in his chest. He will wait, he will wait for his siblings first. They have his loyalty first and foremost.

Singing. She loved her siblings, but the chance to get away from the annoying noise they'd begun to join the Harpers in making so long ago was worth increasing her attempts.

Finally, with an almost crackling noise, the shell Diath strains against gives way, the entire top of the egg peeling forward with the effort. For a moment, once it's fallen away from her head, she rests, takes things in. Of course she's felt the minds outside, seen as best she can through the eyes of Gwillanth and the others, but- To take in the numbers of people and dragons, the sheer amount of color, scents, everything with her own adjusting senses-

Projecting wonder at her siblings, an undercurrent of happiness to see those already hatched, she begins to climb free of her confines

It’s so big out-!

and tumbles to the ground with a loud squeak as the first leg to take weight gives out under her.

There's a dazed heartbeat before she looks over herself for the first time, letting out an I'm alright! at the lack of anything but soreness.

Brown though. Well. That's something to worry about. She doesn’t want to be in charge of things, still doesn’t know if it's required. But, that concern will still be there later. For now, there's the job of rolling onto her belly. Careful with her legs, just in case.

Rioth was out. Alaphiath had intended to wait, but that knowledge makes her wiggle the egg with more determination. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be out, even if the idea of not being blue was scary.

Auth's frustration touches Ilrioth's mind and they turn, scanning the eggs, trying to find the two Near Others who had not yet hatched. //It is okay. Once you are out, we can sing. If it helps at all, I stretched VERY BIG until the shell gave up around me. Stretch big, stretch wide! I will see you soon!

The thoughts of the Harpers are familiar and dear. Ilrioth turns towards Jemeer and his apprentice, trilling happily. Thank you for much music! Perhaps now they can at last make merry together.

'Yes,' Courth calls, discovering talking is possible with a mouthful of sand. 'But it's annoying !' Seth and Kanyoth get pelted by the little storm. 'You try being it, and see how it goes.'

'Being' isn't going well for Courth at all. Out loud, a steady hiss starts up, like he's a small engine that needs to get going. It's not encouraging for the candidates who look like they're considering moving to help him up. At least someone else has fallen over, too, and he's no longer alone being covered in sand.

Blue, Green, Brown. The hazy concepts and idle thoughts are suddenly SO much more real. Synnevath is pressing against the walls now, rocking - rocking - rocking, struggling against her bonds and slowly winning the fight!

More of its siblings have hatched, and still, Tasted Fire pokes around its shell. Pushing, prodding, making note of possible cracks or weak points. Then it turns and kicks and ignores the... it'll say 'singing' that's started up around the eggs. It never cared for the Harper tunes. It cared for the sunlight and the starlight, and for the friends outside its shell. Soon! Soon!

Xlyoth hummed along, and gave Myrcelleth a little nudge to see if he was ready ..?

Yeah, Seth! Kanyoth shouts in agreement - although not as loud as they've been shouting, to be a little bit considerate of their sibling. We'll see if I am green, Courth, but either way, I'll stand by your side against the world. I will not let the judgment of strangers who know nothing of you lay you low. Not after all we've been through.

Neath's restlessness only builds with every moment. The crowd cheers, the dragons hum, its need to move grows, and yet it waits: not yet. It shifts, pushes against its shell once more as it observes its already-hatched clutchmates and the ones still encased in shell with it, and still it waits. Not yet. It stills, rests, waits. Not yet.

And then it knows, with a sudden certainty. Now. It shifts, kicks out hard with its hind legs and tears - tears, not cracks - open the shell, stumbling out into the heat and light and expectation of the world. It squints its eyes and looks around, trying to adjust to seeing for itself, to breathing, to the sudden feelings of bearing its own weight... Then promptly decides that it's all too much and closes its eyes, standing stock-still and stiff-legged as it waits for things to feel normal.

Myrcelleth toddles a little on his legs, a bit too long for his liking before he immediately gives Xlyoth the warmest nuzzle that he can, nibbling clumsily before perking up with delight now that their other beloved ‘greens’ have hatched. Their colour mattered not, not anymore.

Throughout the week Misogauth had been testing the confines of her egg. She'd flipped then flapped, but her shell refused to give way. Despite these 'setbacks', Misogauth refused to give up, and eventually, her patience is rewarded.

Her sun-warmed cage begins to buckle through a combination of her own strength and that provided by the welcoming hum of dragons. She warbles her delight upon breaking through the barrier separating her from her chosen. In a fit of eagerness, Misogauth's teeth close around her shell to rip it away. The surface fractures, causing dozens of shards to slice across her tongue and palate.

Ichor drips from her jaw, momentarily distracting her from her human prize. They really were all green on the inside. Now the outside...

Blue.

The Flamboyant Facets Foretell Fated Fortunes egg had shaken only once – a singular hard rock that saw webs of cracks bisecting the shell to meet at the top dent. Fragments moved in that movement, just a little, but were drawn back into position by the viscosity of the fluid within. After that, the egg stilled for long, long moments. Some began to fear that the hatchling within had given up, and others lost interest in favor of the other babies that gallivanted and contorted about the sands.

Yet it had not stopped. Amidst the chaos all around, a nose had broken through the fragile divot at the top of the shell, just enough for a pair of murky nostrils to greet the air and greedily suck down deep breaths. Many hadn’t even noticed, not until they looked back to see.

Not given up, then. Simply taking their time.

Finally, finally, the egg gave another shake – a crack! – that neatly bisected the shell in two. The dragonet within didn’t emerge so much as it simply cast off its former home, using powerful hind legs to kick the front of the shell away. This left the rest affixed to their back, and they shook their body forcibly to dislodge it, wings fanning in irritation.

Rather than race to join the others, the dragonet focused its attention instead on cleaning their hide of egg fragment, butting at shell that stuck to their irregularly-shaped headknobs with exasperated snorts.

Ilrioth said they stretched very big. Auth sent a flash of thanks to them and took the advice immediately. Stretching out their wings as far as they could (which admittedly wasn't very far), they pushed and pushed as hard as they could. One things was for sure though, they wouldn't be singing when they got out...

Its hasty attempts at movement are not smooth by any means, but they are full of vibrancy and gusto for life and movement. Stumbling, but delighted, Ilrioth makes their way to each of their hatched siblings, touching each gently with the tip of his nose, humming a quiet verse just for them before moving on. I am yours. Now and always. Remember this, if nothing else.

Muxiaoth was a fan of that comfort. it would be alright. and they were welcomed.

They wiggled all the harder. Must. Get. Out. Of. Egg.

What if they were bronze?! or Mother help them, gold?!

Myrcelleth limps, toddles, crawls over to Neath, to Misogauth, chirping and bugling all the way. They were alright - everything would be alright, blue or not. Green or not.

You are here!! You are here! I love you! He announced, not to one, not to the other specifically.

Knuadth stretches out from his spot to meet Ilrioth, warmed despite himself. Some songs were fine, now that he's had a moment to calm down and take stock. "I'll remember," he says with the hushed rise and fall of mist.

The number of eggs still unhatched was dwindling, but steadfast Xlyoth was going to stand by Myrcelleth until she was certain that he was okay... and he was okay, toddling off to see the others. Good.

Now, where was Muxi? Muxiaoth? Which one are you?

The hatching of more of her siblings takes Diath's attention for a moment, all bright blue eyes and and lapping waves of bright happiness as she works her way to her feet. There's a relief in each one seen, and a different relief for each one also not doing perfectly.

We are each others, she sends back to Ilrioth, promise.

The reassurances from the older dragons was comforting, and she began to rock, hesitantly at first, and then, in a panicked rush as the egg began to roll. They did not like this, this rolling around, this lack of control, and they put all their effort into opening a crack, then a hole, and finally, they had squeezed out, the shell in front of them.

For a moment, they hid, hesitant and unsure, glancing around at Mother, their siblings on the sand and the eggs still yet to hatch, and then down at their own feet.

There is a brief moment when they have a feeling of disappointment, as if that wasn't what they had been expecting, but it passes quickly, something that might have been a worry once, but is no longer. They were blue! They were the color of dreams of flying!

And maybe it would be okay if they hid for a little longer.

The warm air helps the sand dust off easily, the Through Deep Water Still Shines The Sun egg is no more, and Dunespike at large can witness Synnevath, the Green free from her egg.
She is, at this moment, looking as delicate as a soap bubble. This dragonchild is but a wisp of a dragon and when she moves, there is a delicate and graceful fluidity, even in spite of childish anger and hatchling indignity. Her body is all dark, deep like algae and plants that live in shadowed depths of a teeming pond in an emerald forest in the crescendo of early summer, where the water is shivering with life and energy. Her arms and legs are darkened, and at the very tips of each of her toes, her green is so dark and deep that they have belonged to a brown dragon instead. When Synnevath stretches her wings for the very first time, whether to test them or dry off, it's as though the sun itself saw fit to limn her wings, for they're as sunkissed as summer seafoam, the thinnest membranes almost translucent: she is sunlight in the water incarnate, a study of water in shadow and light. Her luminous gaze finds Mother first, registering her for the very first time with new eyes. She knew she didn't feel the same as Mother, but assumed they wouldn't be quite so... different. "I'm green. Just so. There is a breathy satisfaction to her statement. The world is as it should be, clearly.

Neath turns immediately to look at Myrcelleth as he approaches. It doesn't recognise him immediately, of course, but the second it does it's reaching its broad, damp nose over to touch his. Hello, blue Myrcelleth, it greets him, its eyes still squinting in the bright light. It hasn't even thought to check its own colour yet - it turns instead to Misogauth. And blue Misogauth! Shall we all be blue instead, then?

Diath's words swell in his chest, a symphony of sweet strings. I promise. His words, his vow, his love.

Muxiaoth heard something. Xlyoth I'm here!! They wiggled as hard as they could. They didn't know where here was anymore. Other than in a sharding egg. An egg that they wished would shard.

...they were glad, suddenly, that they learned all those "bad words" from visitors...

More and more eggs crumbled around them, but Tasted Fire paid them no heed. And from the crowd, a few had eyes on the 'golden' eggs, even one as small as Tasted Fire's. Everyone knew that golds didn't hatch first. They took their time. It was a good thing, right? That the gold eggs hadn't all hatched yet? Eyes began to turn from 'gold' egg to 'gold' egg, and more than a few turned to Tasted Fire.

Tasted Fire ignores it all, steadily chipping away at its shell, which was harder than any shell had a right to be. Fire rising. Heat rising. Growing to a fever pitch?

Everything has been building towards this moment. The steadily climbing sun, the welcoming hum of their kind that almost rattles the earth again, Gwillanth finally releasing the smothering, suffocating psychic hold on them. Every fiber of Kanyoth’s being is ready. The world was welcoming them. It is time at last.

They surge upwards, erupting out of the top of their egg like lava from a volcano. They spread their wings open wide for the first time and the walls of their shell crumble around them. Perhaps their efforts before this day had a bit of an effect, even if they had not been able to finish breaking free until now. Was it only Gwillanth’s psychic clamp on them that had held them back, so that they’d hatch along with the rest of their clutch instead of early? They’d never admit otherwise.

FINALLY! Kanyoth bugled as they reared up on their hind legs. I AM FREE! Then they sat down on their haunches and took a moment to drink in the information they had been longing for their senses to give them.

Seth took their time, oblivious to the others around them. They tasted the egg fluid rapidly drying on their hide. They breathed deeply of the hot air, taking in greedy gulps of breath. Their head canted up to the sky, then to the world around, yellow-orange eyes blinking slowly as they took in the utter cacophony all around. They flexed their claws in the sand, raking shallow furrows. And their wings, now free of egg shell, fanned once before settling to their back.

While their siblings loped around the sands, Seth remained where they had hatched, watching them - even butting their head against Ilrioth ever so quickly as they passed by, but saying nothing.

Instead, they looked back to the others, the eggs that remained, and thrummed deeply. 'I will wait for you,' they told their unhatched siblings, standing quiet vigil.

Jinth touched his nose to Ilrioth’s, turning the Blue’s message over in his mind a bit. “Yes, I shall remember,” he said quietly.

He turned to the singing of some of his siblings. He didn’t join them, not yet. He was still trying to figure out how singing worked, to be honest. A puzzlement to the young inquisitive Brown.

Myrcelleth practically purrs back at it, chirping in a clumsy string of happy notes, hoping to encourage it, to encourage the others still - but he couldn’t hide his delight. In spirit, they will all be together no matter the colour. Colour was beautiful, he knew that now. There were expectations, the ache in his chest reminded, but the expectations did not exceed the pleasures.

Only… You are not blue, he informed Neath in a low thrum. You are not blue and that is okay. You are the beloved green you wanted. You are beautiful.

'Well, that's easy for you to say, you're brown.' Diath is lucky, and he glares at her while getting his feet under him, finally realising that things other than yells had been said – and Ilrioth, but already the singing is enjoyable to listen to, so Courth can't be mad.

Kanyoth takes all of the attention away from Courth's shaky climb back to standing, but even he can't resist giving a (scratchy) bleat of hello to the only sibling he had some kind of rapport with. 'Alright, well done. Now you can try and figure out how the rock makes things lighter, instead of being smart.'

Well. That was unfortunate for her, she supposed? Hopefully, Kanyoth wouldn't bee too smug. Having "lost" her one-sided race, Azimuth took a moment to rest and regroup. It wouldn't be long now, probably. Soon, she'd escape in that one final push

One of the candidates in front of Liorenth takes a step back involuntarily, shaking her head - only now, at the last, has she decided she doesn't want this. The little brown, confused again, snakes a look back to his clutchmates, calling to them. . Together, we will be well. Hatch safe, hatch sound. I love you ... He sighs, the anxiety still builds and humans are weird. He doesn't see the younger boy - who hasn't taken his eyes of the brown dragon since the moment he hatched, take a step forwards and say something soothing quietly under his breath.

Myrcelleth could not help but bugle back at Ilrioth lovingly, legs wobbly, shaky. I love you. We will all be together!

The hum reverberating through the Weyr shudders with a bone-deep resonance. It calls to her, her rider’s mind calls to her, and Xijemynth answers.

She was ready. Beyond ready. Soon they would be free! She would feel the air brush against her hide, feel the ground beneath her paws, gaze at the true world with her own eyes. She was going to see Knuadth and Kanyoth, and all their other siblings too! And she would find Hers, and they would love one another as they should. No resentment. No should-have-beens.

Xijemynth plants a foot near the rift in her shell and strikes. For all the healer’s hard work, the place that had been her first home crumbles at the strength of her birth. She tumbles free into the world, and for a brief moment everything is a disorienting wall of sound and sensation. OOF Not the most dignified first entrance, but she presses on. Shaking her head, Xijemynth works to gather herself into a more comfortable position.

She lifts a wing to shield her new eyes, and is surprised to see light filtering through Green membrane. Green? That hadn’t been her expectation at all! But I thought I was Blue, or Brown…! Did this mean she would have to be a part of the ‘greenwill’ mother had mentioned? If so, would she still be able to be herself?

Green. Neath turns to look at itself for the first time. It is green, but... It is brown and blue and white and black as well, in small patches. It slowly, clumsily raises a wing to show him - I'm still blue, if just in small parts, - and immediately overbalances and stumbles over in the sand, its bulky little body too much for it to handle once anything actually moves. Still, it raises its head to look around at the others who have hatched - and those who have not. Another green hatches, and Neath makes an attempt at a greeting bugle. It's shaky and quiet, but the intent behind it is clear.

Xlyoth heard someone vowing love to someone else, but it was all a little much and she wasn't sure who'd said it. Were they supposed to be finding their loves, too? Like Mother had Pertemarth? Nevermind...

She turned to where Muxiaoth's mind-touch had come from, and found the bright pink egg. It was bigger than hers had been, and for the first time she felt a twinge of envy. Do you need help?

Auth was tense. They just couldn't wait any longer.

Cramped and aching from their confinement, Auth clenched and unclenched their claws, gnashing their teeth in agitation.

Nope, no more waiting. Auth was hatching now and no one could stop them. Kicking out strong with their back legs, they braced against the shell that had been holding them from the world since the beginning. Auth scrabbled, claws raking the membrane inside their egg and lashing out with every limb to break free. They pushed their wings out, pressing hard against the shell above while their back legs and tail pushed down. A loud crack reverberated around them and they screeched with joy as they felt the first touch of cool air against their skin. Bolstered by this they threw themselves fully into clawing, scraping and raging until the bruised sky egg shattered around them.

FREEDOM.

Auth screamed in victory, flaring their wings and daring anyone to ever attempt to contain them again.

Eyes flashing green and scarlet, they snapped their head around trying to take everything in. But it was so bright and so loud. Auth felt blinded and snarled at the noise the crowd was making. They hissed at the smells that were accosting them and flapped their wings angrily. All sense of what they were meant to do was thrown to the wind.

Auth wanted out of here.

A brown and a blue both hatch, both crawl into the world. It is a delight, even with Myrcelleth soon following Neath’s lead and stumbling over against it. He sings out a greeting, purrs and hums all of the way to them.

The rock holds us up so we're not constantly falling, Kanyoth remarked quietly to Courth. As for being smart, I think that's necessary in the world we've just entered.

What, did I scare you all? the newly hatched dragonet laughs at the candidates. She takes a quick moment to check her color. Blue? Perfect. Shades of sea and sky on her hide, the elemental earth within her core, so that she held the world and the world held her in an embrace that would last until death. But anyway, back to what she was saying. Surely we've all been through worse with that earthquake.

And then - XIJEMYNTH! YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL! She was so happy to see her sister, her eyes spinning blues and greens to match both of their hides.

Favoring the leg that gave way, Diath takes a few limping steps, her first, and swivels her head to look over her siblings, hatched and hatching. Even at Courth's words she only sends back her affection and small bugles. Then, yearning keener than ever in her chest, follows Liorenth towards the candidates. The options they were shown out of all there was. She sends encouragement her brown sibling's way as she slowly but surely does not slow or stop, leaving them to move aside at a gentle push.

‘We can… do this…’

They were definitely talking ‘aloud’ to themselves, and also potentially Xlyoth. But then, their egg cracked clean in half, like it had been cut with a knife.

Muxiaoth mostly fell out of their egg. It was time to get going, to get out of their quiet little shell and find out more things about this world. And get somewhere that all of these people would stop staring at them. But…

Let me—
—No, I can do this

A concerning stumble, a wobble, as if all of this little blue wasn’t in sync with themselves. Which, well, they definitely weren’t.

Mu, please.
If you **must, Xiao.
I must!

They’d chosen their favorite bits of the name they’d cobbled together from parts, because they felt they each deserved a name. A bit of a shiver, through the length of this two-toned blue from their nose to the tip of their tail. Then, they stood proud, solid, stable, and excited. And...Blue?! Well, that was fine. They didn't much care about color or rank, and He was blue anyway, so hopefully mother was pleased. This little blue was chonky. Definitely a bottom-heavy friend, not about to be swayed by much… excepting perhaps finding those candidates they preferred from the touching. Though, even the memory of them was already less distinct than they preferred.

They're so close! Tasted Fire can feel them outside its shell. Humans who will be its friends. Who will ignore its searing heat. Who can sit with it as it shares its warmth. But first it's got to get out of this blasted egg. Heat. Flaring. Hot. Hotter. Where is that blasted crack? Had it healed that much after the earthquake did its number on its shell? Well, that's not very nice.

Haozieth had been fighting against his shell for some time eager to finally be free of its confines and able to be Outside exploring what the dreams and minds had shown him. He struggles and strains and finally feels something give. The shell by his back legs cracks and then gives way allowing him his first welcome taste of freedom. He wriggles and writhes as first his back legs then his tail appear. They are rapidly followed by his wings and shoulders then he slides from the egg in a mess of goo, tangled limbs, and confusion.

The sight of all the gathered dragons, riders, and Weyr folk do nothing to alleviate his feelings of shock. There is so much noise and color and movement that nothing, not the crippling hunger in his belly, not his desperation to find his life partner, nothing can tear his eyes away from the spectacle. He lays sprawled on the sands stuck staring in awe at the overwhelming welcome to Pern.

Oh, oh no - Knuadth hadn't considered what would happen when the sibling he sheltered behind would also hatch. He has to squirm out of the way to avoid being hit by Haozieth's own emergence, and then... well, getting some distance seems wise. The light seems a little less intense now at least, the noise dulling into something more bearable.

But the pang of something missing, something important... it only grows stronger.

Mux- Mu!, Auth! You are gorgeous! Like night and sky! Ilrioth scampers up beside Xlyoth, touching noses with each newly hatched clutchmate as they got their bearings, waiting for Auth to calm. It is big and loud, yes. They soothe Auth, But we are here, together, despite it all. This is wonderful, yes? And there are many more such wonderful things to come. Like! Oh! Like food! The little blue hops some, stumbling on sand but continuing without missing a beat. I am ready to taste! I've heard things have notes of flavor? Very interested in learning more about that.

With most of the attention drawn away from the small blue, they were free to look around, to take stock of the situation and area. It was a little overwhelming, and they made no move to move. They would, soon, but they had no need to examine the candidates.

They had known who it would be since the hand touched their shell.

Neath turns to look at Myrcelleth when he trips over it in the sand, stifling a snort (and then snorting anyway to clear sand out of its nose.) Most of the clutch has hatched by now - it turns to look at its own shell, mottled green and brown much like itself is. Some of the others become distracted - it feels the shift, even as the web of connections between them begins to weaken - but by what, Neath doesn't know. Doesn't want to know. Let it live a few moments longer without having to think of the expectations that still gnaw at the back of its mind.

Jjezreth flexed, finally properly testing the limits of it Patchwork's shell. It was cramped and had been for some time so it seemed to Jjezreth that the best way to get out was to just stretch and flex, pressing out its limbs and straining its wings and shoulders until it felt something crunch.
Suddenly there was moving air against the back of Jjezreth's neck, tickling and uncomfortable in the unfamiliarity of the sensation.

It kicked out and beat its wings properly, making the whole back of the egg split open. And then Jjezreth fell backwards with an alarmed squeak and landed heavily on its back. There it stayed, staring up at the clear blue sky and adjusting to the feeling of being splayed out instead of curled up.

“And ow,” Jjezreth finally said. It stretched out it's legs – striped and beautifully dark – and flailed a little like a flipped over bug before it finally managed to right itself and stand up on wobbly legs. It was – oh, it was green. Jjezreth hadn't known if it would be green but that felt right. And what a pretty green it was! Jjezreth raised it's head high and spread out its wings to watch as much sun as possible as it finally looked out to the gathered audience. “Hello! It's so good to meet you all!”

Tasted Fire’s heat had grown constantly in the last few seconds, enough that it started to be uncomfortable in its too-tight shell. There were too many things swirling around in its brain that it just wanted to stretch out and break free! A squirm here, a kick there, and suddenly the inside of its shell was bright as something gave way.

Sunlight?

Sunlight!

It takes a bit of fanangling, but finally, its nose shoves through the makeshift hole in its shell, taking its first fresh breath of air. Its fire’s set to burst if it doesn’t get out. Now!

Crack, crack, crack!

Like a firecracker, the egg explodes apart (eggshells flying everywhere), and finally, finally, Tasted Fire is free! Only Tasted Fire isn’t Tasted Fire any longer. With that first hit of the heat of sunlight, it had finally found its name. ‘* I am Solletonath!’ It… no, *they cry to themself and anyone within immediate earshot.

They’d finally discovered who they are as they’d burst from their shell. They are Solletonath, and it doesn't matter what gender they are, because they know who they are! They had landed on their back with the hatching, and they scramble to get onto their shaking legs, rolling around and catching their wings under them.

Ah bother.

Lift this, move that, and they’re free! Triumphant, they bugle, finally showing off how amazing they are. Look! They are sopping with egg guts, but that's besides the point. Solletonath is free!

Muxiaoth took a few prancing steps. Yes, steps were good. And they were Blue. Blue was also very good.

'Ilrioth! We are bluetiful.' Muxiaoth looked at them then, with bright green eyes excited and silly. Did they get the silly almost-word? Did they like it??

Kanyoth, quiet? Courth takes so long staring at the blue he feels his legs start to slide out from under him again in the sand. 'It's not their fault they're all stupid, the world is annoying.' Still, Kanyoth's attention is in the right place, and now the hunger and need is starting to get too much...

There's at least one other green on the sands that doesn't seem exactly pleased about it, so Courth takes plodding, trembling steps over to Xijemynth. 'It's confusing, isn't it?'

Liorenth glances over the other hatchlings, mood lightening. How did all of those dragons come out of those eggs ... amazing! Then his head whips round at some movement to one side, in time to look straight into the eyes of the youngest candidate, drawn by the boy's clear admiration. Oh it's you! And now, finally, he leans into the bond and does not look away.

Big whirling eyes are taking each of her clutchmates in, one by one. She sends an affectionate swirling sending towards Diath and Xijemynth, who she still remembers as neighbors to her out there on the sands. Synnevath takes a few hesitant steps, missteps, is startled by the sudden and decisive appearance of the other green- Solletonath- they are green, just like Synnevath is - she gives an appreciative babylike bugle and scans the sands, looking, looking everywhere.

Finally - they were all safe! They were all safe, they were all out. Myrcelleth lifted his head to let out a cheerful cry even as his chest began panging with something fierce. There was a strange haziness to everything now as they turned their head to examine the candidates with an unimpressed… but needing look. Searching. Searching through instinct beyond all else. Where was their family to join him with Neath and Misogauth and Ilrioth and Muxiaoth and Courth and his many many siblings?

Now. Sharply kicking out, Azimuth finally escaped her shell. The Others were right, it was very… much. It looked like she was last. Disappointing. Curiously she went forward towards the candidates, catching a flash of... blue? OH! That was HER.

At first Solletonath simply stands there. Then they start to stretch their legs, one at a time, and then experimentally move their wings, up and down, a flapping motion. Then they creel. 'My friends, I have missed you!' They say, and they, it seems, are the first to move toward the candidates. The last to hatch, but the first to step forward. Their stride is ungainly and uneven, but they don't trip.

Bluetiful! Ilrioth rears back, flapping his sky-bright wings with delight, Oh yes! Oh yes we are! And Auth's good looks are so browntiful! And Xyloth is greengeous!

Welcome Solletonath! It trills, turning briefly from the trio gathered near him, Such music in your name! It is like the sun!

Myrcelleth, as though pulled by an unseen guiding force, toddles away from Neath, letting out a miserable little croon into the crowd. Where was his family? Where were they when he needed them most? There were so many people, so many minds, but he knew his one was there. He knew it.

Where are you?

Haozieth climbs shakily to his feet still staring around him in awe. He siblings were beautiful! So many bright colors and patterns. He finds himself mesmerized by Jjezreth's wings for a long moment before remembering that he had had plans.

He shakes himself mightily sending fragments of egg foo and shell flying and then looks over to the giant golden shape of Mother.

"Can you hear me now without the shell? I love you!"

Ilrioth's words jolt Auth as they turn and snap at the air. They were too pent up to see past their immediate emotions. Kind words weren't registering for them yet. Everything was hazy.

Growling and snapping at anyone who got in their way, Auth disregarded siblings and candidates alike as they attempted to make their escape. Unfortunately they wouldn't get very far as they soon discovered how weak their body felt after the struggle of hatching. They didn't know yet how very undersized they were or how sickly compared to a standard hatchling.

They would discover this momentarily however.

At Ilrioth's mention of food and flavor, Kanyoth lifts his head up high again and sniffs their air. I think they have some food behind the candidates. Smells good, anyway, whatever it is.

He then stands and stretches his whole body out, to soothe how cramped it felt from captivity. For a moment he is startled by Solletonath's cry and looks over at his newly hatched green sibling. Didn't we go over this weeks ago? he asks, baffled.

But anyway. He holds his head up high and proud, neck arched regally, as he strides forward, maybe one of the first out the tent. He may as well get a head start, since this search is going to take a while - he'd scared the person he had in mind back at the touching, and if all the candidates were scared of him now, they'd be hard to find. Ah well. He had time.

Speaking of time. He takes a moment to look over at Gwillanth and her blue mate. MOTHER! PERTEMARTH! HELLO, I LOVE YOU, I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME.

Was he pointedly ignoring Yuakajth? Oh, absolutely. Fuck that guy.

Neath watches Myrcelleth go with an empty feeling in its stomach - worse than just the hunger that's been gnawing at it since it got the urge to truly struggle free of its shell. It wants to ask where he's going, but it knows. It's known for a little while, it thinks, that this is unavoidable. But why? It turns to look to Mother, to Pertemarth. Did they see the injustice in this too, or had it been their reality for so long that they'd forgotten? Had they never felt as trapped by expectation as it did right now? It struggles to its feet and takes a few short, shaky steps in no particular direction. Do we have to? it asks aloud, trying not to let the panic set in.

What Diath does is not barging, she will claim for the whole of her life. She merely keeps moving forward and lets the candidates step aside as they realize she's not coming for them. Or for anyone yet. As soon as she's passed the ring, she takes stock of the view, of the people. Not so many minds stick out as among the candidates, but some do.

There's more out here! she calls back to those whose minds aren't already settling in beside another's, beginning a limping circuit of candidates and crowd both.

Muxiaoth wasn't sure what to do about all of this attention. They nudged Ilrioth and Xlyoth happily, nonetheless.

'It's time to find ours, I think.' They said, their tone much more quiet now, calm, dark. 'Maybe we should greet Pertemarth first... blue to blue... but... hungry...'

Solletonath strode up to Courth, who was among a few of their other siblings, but perhaps it was Courth who only held their attention. 'Do you remember our conversations about being special?' They asked Courth. Their head tilted to one side. 'Are you still considering it? What makes you special?'

They houghed, 'I will find what makes me special among them! The candidates! I know who mine is, I can feel them. Can you?'

It was late! It had thought it would hatch so much sooner. Ah, it could show off how pretty it was later, it had to find its own rider!

Jjezreth stumbled like a newborn herdbeast, struggling to get its legs to support its weight. It was hard to move the correct limbs, too. Wings and legs didn't feel that different and it almost fell down a few times before it got the hang of moving the right limb at the right time.

And – well, it could show off a little.

“Mother! See me? Aren't I pretty?” It stood clumsily on its hind legs and spread its wings, beating a few times so everyone could see its pretty eye spots before it stumbled and crashed back to the ground chest-first with a wheeze.

Auth's snappishness and confusion did not seem to ruffle Ilrioth at all, it merely steps out of the way, letting its brown sibling settle down. There would be time enough for reunions later. With a parting nudge to Mu and Xyloth, he turns, singing out a greeting to Pertemarth and Mother, Gwillanth. It is so nice to meet you, to see you! I have known you for long and I will know you forever, our songs always entwined.

Now, now there was something more pressing to attend. A siren's song, stronger than sibling or food or sky. He had visited the Candidates briefly before, wending his way amongst them, reaching out to those who had reached him at Touching. But now, now was a time of choosing, and, much as he wished for the contrary, he could only choose one.

Foolish to think everyone was going to be less loud after getting out of the egg. Knuadth is getting the hang of stretching and getting all his limbs under him and organized before he starts moving. This keeps him occupied from paying too much mind to his siblings, but it also brings him closer to the candidates, step by step. And... is he ready? A part of him wants this, needs this, but - but what if it's wrong? What if it goes bad? How to make sure?

Wouldn't it be better to just... stay like this? To not have to search at all? Why aren't his reckless, loud, singing siblings enough?

But he must go forward. He must.

Myrcelleth does not recall feeling this hungry, ever. It gnawed at him and the worst feeling is knowing that he was right. That this was not a choice.

He opened his mouth to let out a howl. If you are forcing me to bond then you need to choose me as well! I will not toil for someone who will not love me!

Despite the apparent fragility of the chalky feeling shell, Fluttering of Softly Painted Wings takes their sweet time to hatch, the blue dimly streaked with copper flaking slowly away. Inside, Alaphiath is nearly wriggling with impatience, come on, that cracked spot was so thin, why was this so hard?

Far too slowly for Alaphiath's liking, the cracked place near the air pocket finally falls away. Spurred by this, the dragonet inside pushes and wiggles, finally escaping.

At Seth's call, Kanyoth freezes and turns around. NO. Not again. Not today. Not another name to add to the list of siblings lost forever.

They turn and run back towards the eggs unhatched. ALAPHIATH! I DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE BUT I KNOW AT LEAST YOU'RE STILL IN THERE! COME OUT!

They could snap at Yuakajth's rider later.

And just as they run for her, she begins to hatch. They skid to a stop near her egg. Do you need help getting out? I can help!

'What? Oh, yes...' Courth turns from green to...green. 'I think your own name is probably a better start than them...' It's a glib reply to a question he isn't expecting, and Courth's little storm of thoughts turns sluggish. He did remember – how could he forget? – but it's not that simple now.

'I'm not going to be special, I'm going to be boring, and ignorable, and good at everything I do, whether the person I bond with wants me to or not.' They're right, though, in that getting a person is a good place to start. He peers past Solletonath at the waiting candidates with something like skepticism. They seem a lot less exciting now he can see them all. 'Are you sure? They all look boring.'

His human... His human! How could he forget!

In a flurry of limbs Haozieth tries to turn away from the gold and towards the candidates but his hind leg goes out from under him and he ends up in a tangle of limbs. He sees the edge of a big green wing and worries he has fallen on someone but as he proceeds to right himself he realizes the truth.

He's a green?

Well that was unexpected.

Distracted once again from the candidates he turns in circles trying to properly see himself, and admire how his hide darkened from brilliant pale green to a derp forest color.

He was beautiful! Surely his chosen human would like his colors! They were so bright and cheerful!

Properly pleased with the universe he prances towards the candidates head held high, neck arched, and tail swishing, looking for all the world like a well bred show runner.

Jinth decided he’d sat long enough around the remains of the eggs, waiting for his siblings to emerge into the world. They made it, all of them. None left behind; the loss of that one sibling when the rocks fell was just a dream by now, alongside the memory of the rocks themselves.

He walked towards the Candidates with a bit of urgency in his step. His had been so tired when they met, tired of the same old patterns in their life to that point. He was determined to shake them up, give them new patterns to make them feel alive again.

To fly, into the sky and find their dreqmsand their selves again.

Xlyoth's stomach churned on itself and her heart felt... incomplete. Her siblings had bunched up, but none seemed to be sticking with her.

Ilrioth was off to find his rider, and well, there was Muxiaoth, until they went to find their rider. Oh, maybe one of the twins would suit them. Or both the twins. Could a dragon have two riders?

Let's go together Xlyoth said boldly, trying to hide their fear of being alone behind bravado.

The keen spooks Diath into another tumble, and a moment of yellow-eyed panic as the fear they may have lost someone she was sure everyone was fine- It's a relief to do a mental tally and find everyone there. Still though, she sends shining comfort at those unhappy, sends hope, before returning to her feet and carrying on.

A first circuit, to get a first look at all the options available to her. No, no, maybe, no, maybe, too musical, no-

There is a warm fondness that Challeanoth sends to Mother and Pertemarth, a lack of words, but a feeling of appreciation and love. There would be time for talk later, right now, there was someone waiting for them.

He was waiting for her.

There is no hesitancy in the normally cautious dragon as they pass their siblings, past some of the candidates, focused on one in particular. They had known from the time that he touched their shell that this was the one, and now, she was going to claim him.

Synnevath's first steps are taken with utmost delicacy, though here and there she steadies herself. Through a series of shimmies and shudders, much of the sand sticking to her velvety damp hide has been dislodged, affording her some level of comfort, but it's not enough. She peers to Gwillanth and Pertemarth in turn, who she loves; to Yuakajth, she bears no ill will towards one bound to their duty, and she gives a curt nod to him in turn. Now she turns her attention towards the knots of Candidates here and there, searching, searching, searching more. Where did they go?

Solletonath snorts. 'Then maybe... look beyond them!' They say, nudging their brother on the shoulder with theirs. 'There are many watching us. Many with open minds. Many willing to sit next to my campfire at least... and certainly at least one meant for you.'

They move forward, past Courth, and as they do, they run their tail along Courth's body, a tender touch of a sibling. 'Shall we find ours together, or do you need more time?'

Myrcelleth turns then to Mother, all knowing, so beautiful. Maybe she could finally hear him.

Why? Why do we have to choose? Why do we need a life mate! My life mates are my siblings! I don't want anyone else!

Despite their brave announcement, they looked desperate, afraid.

Jjezreth took a few seconds of just being surprised about the consequences of its own actions.
… Huh. It hadn't expected that.

It stumbled a little as it got back up to all fours and shook its limbs out one at a time. “Okay, Mother! I love you!” Jjezreth told Gwillanth before its attention firmly shifted away.

This time when Jjezreth looked out it was to the gathered candidates, where it was certain its human was waiting. What he looked like was a mystery, though, and Jjezreth knew only the shape of his mind. Jjezreth had to get closer. It took a few shaky steps that built up speed before Jjezreth sprinted at the candidates.

“Ae'r! I'm coming to get you! Hold still!”

Neath wants to wail when Gwillanth tells it that it does have to bond. Why? It hadn't asked for this. It stared at her for a few moments, mixed emotions whirling in its eyes - fear, anger, sadness - before turning away to look over the crowds. It doesn't understand, and maybe it never will, but there are others who have faced similar injustices in the crowd. It steadies its legs and waddles, with great purpose, out into the gathering of people. If it has to find somebody, it will find somebody who does understand.

It is not some perfect merging, an abrupt click of one whole into another.

But Knuadth feels it - a mind his own can settle in. Someone who he can rest with. That must be enough.

Maybe they can make sure it will be good together.

Together. Muxiaoth liked the sound of that. While they would never be alone, and soon even less alone, Xlyoth's presence was comforting.

'Yes. Together. Let's.' They nudged her in the direction of the candidates, and made sure their wing kept bumping occasionally into her, just so she could be sure to be there. Xlyoth was their sister. And they stick together. Muxiaoth kept an eye out for any of their other siblings being similarly hesitant. They had another wing to nudge someone along with, after all.

Alaphiath was almost afraid to look at herself. She wanted to know but was afraid to see, to make the growing certainty that she wasn't blue real. If she didn't look, maybe she could stay blue forever.

"Kanyoth, I'm here. My egg was being unfair. Even the thin spot didn't want to break."

Solletonath is suggesting what?* He recoils a little from them and the touch of a fail against them, not liking the sound and way it makes his skin twitch. 'That's against the rules!'* At least, it's against the rules Courth remembers. He frantically looks through what he remembers, shuttling information around and coming up blank. They'd only been encouraged to choose from the ones at the touching, but...'Oh, fine.' He plods after the other green, teetering from side to side.

Courth would yell at the others he's spoken to, but in that moment he's too distracted and too focussed on the path in front of him. The full weight of a tiny storm focusses on the people in front of him. Which one feels...

As the final dragonet emerged the brown, lumpy form of Seth at last eased up to their unsteady legs. Slowly, with one paw in front of the other, they moved. With wings held out for balance, they did not tip over, even as their too-large feet sunk into the sand awkwardly with each step. Still, they held their head high and looked out, pausing only once or twice to butt their head against a flagging sibling.

’Go!’ They would snap, complete with a click of their teeth. Not close enough to catch skin, but enough to seem as a real threat. No, the most Seth did was hook their oddly-spread headknobs up under a dragonet and get them to their feet with a push.

Still, the emptiness echoes in their own being. Ignored, for now, though their fear is visible enough in yellow-orange eyes. Seth refuses to appear weak, especially in front of their siblings.

Pausing to look up at Pentemarth (Father, even if she shouldn't call him that) and Mother, the two minds that had shielded her and the siblings, Azimuth found herself oddly shy.
Hello. I love you both! Thank you for taking care of us. She settled by Gwillanth for a second, content to bask in her presence (and welcome shade) while she got her legs under control. Then onwards. She wanted to see her options before making such a big choice

Myrcelleth stared at her, eyes swirling between fear, disgust and adoration. How could this happen?

Fine. If they were to bond with someone, then they will bond. On their own terms.

Someone in... blue? Ilrioth blinks, turning towards the sea of white Candidates. I will go look! He declares, bounding, well that might be a generous term for his gate, away in the direction mother had indicated.

Blue, blue, wyer oh weyr are you? It sang to itself as it searched, having to slow and weave once it was amidst the crowd. Blue, blue wyer are- oh! It's you! Ilrioth looks up, bright new eyes meeting those of the Harper's apprentice. Yes! Yes you would adore music, wouldn't you? Would you adore me, too? I am Ilrioth!

A few siblings join her in taking stock of those beyond the candidates offered, and Diath sends them good feelings, reaches a sense of the wider options out there towards Seth, even as she continues her search. She's starting her second circuit now...

Something enormous and blue blotted out the newly revealed sky and Auth backtracked, hissing at it. They stumbled, landing on their tail in the sand.
Auth didn't like being told what to do or frightened into falling. They raised their wings again, ready to retaliate, but a rush of beautiful images filled their mind before they could do more than huff. They were immediately entranced by the warmth and intricacy of the imagery emanating from who they now recognised as Blue-Father. Their heartbeat calmed enough to allow the approach of two humans and... a tiny dragon? Auth took a deep breath, as Blue- Father had advised. The tiny dragon alighted on Auth's shoulder and Auth calmed considerably,

Looking up at Blue-Father, their eyes shining with trepidation they said, I'm sorry... I just... I don't...

Gwillanth opens her wings over Neath and calls the candidates in, but Neath is having none of it. It pushes straight through the gathering candidates (it will feel sorry for this later, once it's calmed down) and continues to make its way out. It will choose, but it will choose from everybody, not just those who were chosen for reasons beyond its understanding to paw at its shell and put their greedy minds to it. It does not direct its anger at Mother, but it doesn't hide it from her either as it begins its proper search.

How rude of it! Kanyoth snorted in indignation. It shouldn't have tried to force you to join Pycglioth and Ghrebieth and Rocranth when you were still here!

He lowers his head to sniff at his last sister, blue Alaphiath. Are you okay now that you're out? Do you need any help from me or anyone else? I can help escort to your rider, call healers, whatever you need. I'm here for you. You may not have been able to fly the day the earth moved, but I will make sure you live to see the day you can fly.

Mother was big, very big. And outside was even bigger. Alaphiath needed a moment to wrap her mind around how much bigger everything was. Kanyoth was so kind; she felt guilty that she'd ever thought of him as annoying. Her voice was small and scared as she asked, "I am blue, right?"

There's so many people – and so little space. Before Courth can get much further than the first ring of hopefuls his wing catches on his claws and he falls, once again smashing his chest into the sands. Fortunately, this time, his wings figure out how to flare to soften the fall...Unfortunately, for the candidates, he's close enough to hit some of them.

'Move! Can't you see we're figuring out limbs, here?' he hisses, snapping at the ankles that come close enough to risk helping him up. He doesn't care if he hurts with teeth or mind as he lashes out this time. There's empty spaces in his mental peripherals, and a sense of foreboding. He needs to find the right...person...

You are blue! Kanyoth confirmed. Blue just like me! Blue like Pertemarth! A very pretty blue! And Kanyoth's own eyes whirl blue with joy.

I don't know what you're so scared of, but I've got your back. If it's biteable, I'll bite it. Her eyes continue to whirl blue as she says this.

It is a long several minutes before Seth abandons pushing their siblings around and overall being a rude bore. The emptiness in their soul and stomach had grown too much to bear – one far more painful than the other.

At last, they turn to the clustered candidates, the instinctual pull driving them onward.

’One just for me…’ they murmur out, completely engrossed in their task, in not showing the real fear starting to eat away at their poise. ’One just for me… where could you be…’ They care not that they’re rhyming or seeming silly. No, they nose around the humans, knocking their head against some with just enough force to push them aside.

And… there. Not perfect, perhaps. No, but this one. Yes, Seth remembers this one.

’You,’ they state, voice firm and unwavering, a steady hiss in the mind that refuses to be ignored. Rhuman wound find herself face to face with this brown hatching, their eyes whirling slowly. ’I remember you, sneakthief. Do you see my brothers and sisters, trespasser? You are not worthy of them. You are not even worthy of me. What would you do, I wonder, if I were to claim you for myself? Poor, pitiful Rhuman, with no golden hide to call her own.’

Kanyoth's words lift the weight of fear, of ending up like Ertineth, never happy in themself. All the colors came with challenges, that much was clear from what she had learned in her egg, but they could be comfortable in their color at least. Alaphiath suddenly realizes that there is something else she should be looking for, not just Rioth, not just the other siblings she liked. Something other, something human.

Jemeer's voice is nearly as familiar as Mother's, the Harper's visits had been looked to with great delight by the young blue. But it was not the Masterharper he was here for. And he would not be taking his 'stripey little nose' anywhere. That is, anywhere without...

Mine.

The healers took some quick measurements of Auth and gave them water to drink while continuing their assessment. Auth could sense worry in their murmured tones. They felt weak, much weaker than expected. The world was far more overwhelming than they'd thought too. But this was only the beginning, surely things would get better? At least Blue-Father was being kind. Kind. Kind.

Ilrioth!

Auth looked around quickly, almost dislodging the firelizard from their shoulder. Ilrioth? they called out tentatively, unable to see the blue amongst the crowd of dragons and people. They wanted to apologise for being so snappish. Actually, they wanted to apologise to all their siblings for that. They hadn't meant to react so badly, they had just been so frightened and frustrated and and and...

Wait, weren't they meant to be doing something right now? They could feel a tug beneath their ribcage. They looked down, noticing for the first time how dark they were. Oh! They'd completely forgotten about discovering their own colour! But wait, what colour am I?

That's when they noticed a stream of candidates milling around towards them, guided by Blue-Father. Relief swept through Auth as they realised there were still so many unbonded people to choose from. They had been so frightened of have no choice, of being left with someone unsuitable. Now at least they could find the right person.

It's on the third circuit that Diath considers all her options given an initial run, a selection made from those she liked who her siblings had not yet picked for themselves. Confidence, bravery, love, community, stability, none so much as to overwhelm, sprinkled haphazardly among this final grouping. All that's left is to pick one, and so she continues her limping walk, ignoring the ache building in her leg, as she holds her mind up against theirs.

The endless cold. Deep, dark depths. Shoals of bright light lapping against-

Jagged stones nestled within the reef. Life and color. Warmth curling in the current.

Like her head is on a string she turns for the last time from the candidates, wings flaring- the left joining it's matching leg in only managing half of what the right does- reaching a wordless question into the crowd that doesn't even reach it's target before he's shoving through to her.

Mine.

Auth's tentative voice briefly draws Ilrioth's attention away from the wonder that is Impression. I am well, Auth. I will see you at the food, yes? I am famished and I want to know what food tastes like! We are going there now, but I will not leave without you. Come find us as soon as you find Yours!

The little space he's made for himself is enough to get his front end back up, but before Courth can object someone is there to fold his wings back in where they won't cause any more damage. It doesn't hurt – it gets everything put away exactly where it needs to be, in fact – but Courth still flinches away hissing. 'Excuse me!' It doesn't seem right, that they could touch him, actual him and not shell, without asking...Though he supposes he did touch first.

He steps a few stumbling steps and whirls to find the culprit, but there's too many people, and some of them don't look as pleased as he would like at finding a green in their way. 'Don't look so annoyed, I'm not enjoying this either...Too much involved in this walking business.' Courth snaps and hisses, and finds no one is willing to offer a solution. Fine. He moves on, past the ring, and stubbornly still going with Solletonath's idea. If Ilrioth could have his apprentice, Courth can have someone from this lot. The minds here are more organised anyway, and more knowledgeable – a stray thought grabs him.

'What does that mean? No, show me, I'm not going anywhere. I'm Courth, if you must know – now show me–' He half climbs onto a seat to lean towards the person he thinks has the answer he seeks.

”Oh, don’t act the fool, Rhuman. You know what you did.’

Their head tilted, breath hitting the young woman’s chest with a sound that might have been a hissing laugh.

’Rhuman… no. R’han. You will be R’han. My R’han.’ And their eyes shifted, going from orange and yellow to the hues of blue and green, the whirling rainbow of impression as their being collided with R’han’s own, sweeping her up and claiming her heart and soul. ’No more skulking in the night, R’han. We will be powerful, you and I, but we will grasp that power with claw and fang so that none may take it from us. Now come.’

Dazed, R’han could do little else as her dragon, her Seth, led her towards where the food was being kept. Perhaps later she might mourn what could have been if this pushy dragon hadn’t chosen her. But for now she was reeling in the exultation that was impression, holding fast to her beloved’s thick neck for comfort. Seth did not push her away, but they did knock a wing under her chin, tilting her head upwards. Proudly. They walked together, girl and beast, to join the others onto the path towards the rest of their lives.

Solletonath walks with Courth only a small while before stopping and turning their head. Hmmm, Courth is right, none of the candidates are any they're interested in. Sure, there are some who they'd like to come sit with them, tell them their stories, be their friends, but they aren't the one. They weren't worried after they hatched that they would be the last to choose. They knew they would Impress to theirs.

'I have waited so long to meet you,' Solletonath says as they walk up to the candidatemaster's apprentice. Their wings spread wide as they stamp their paws in place. Rainbows of Impression spread across their eyes. 'We will together train many little soldier-to-bes, and they will be my friends! All of them!'

Alaphiath suddenly seems distracted - her attention has gone to somewhere else. Kanyoth looks around, but their eyes can't find what she's looking at by following her gaze. Something internal, then. That's fine. Kanyoth can give her a moment. (Hopefully their biting comment wasn't too off-putting for her.)

They note Seth confronting Rhuman. Awww, come on Seth, surely you can find someone better than that, they sigh. Also, Rhuman, he literally addressed you by name, obviously he's talking about and to you, don't pretend to be stupid. That's even more insulting than what you did the night after the touching.

But Seth claims her, and Rhuman, now R'han, seems happy enough, and they both ignore Kanyoth, too caught up in Impression. Ah well. They can catch up to Seth and maybe help him whip R'han into shape later. This clutch had the rest of their lives ahead of them.

Speaking of which, Pertermarth (continuing to be a better father than Yuakajth) was herding potential lifemates towards Auth here in the tent. Auth, who looked at themself and seemed confused. You're a brown! A very dark brown, but brown! Brown is good! they shouted. Anyone who said otherwise could fight them. Yuakajth, his rider, and R'han included, if it came down to it later.

There was somebody among the cluster of candidates, a logical but kind young woman, among the crowd of hopefuls for Auth. She's making a point of not looking at Kanyoth. That's fine. At least they know where she is now, and can go nab her once they're done helping Alaphiath.

Synnevath saunters to close the distance between her and the remaining candidates, as delicate as a water strider, and allows her mind to reach out, like a dowsing rod, until she's standing face to face with her. The inklings of anxiety fade away, are completely forgotten.
Unable to contain herself any longer, she sends her new partner- so lovely, wonderful, brave, amazing, beloved lifemate!- a rainbow, the draconic version of a soft bell-like giggle. "You are Synnevath's now"

"Thank you, Kanyoth. I don't think anything needs biting right now, but that is very reassuring."

Alaphiath's frantically whirling eyes slow, streaks of green overtaking nervous yellow. She nuzzles Kanyoth, caught between the urge to look for the missing something and staying with her sibling.

Good. I'd rather sink my teeth into the food first before I have to fight anything, he admitted

Kanyoth nuzzles Alaphiath back. Do you want to look for your rider now? Your human? We can go together. A lot of our siblings have paired up to do that.

"Yes, I'd like to look for my human and find Rioth, Jjezreth, and Haozieth too, but I don't know what they're like now. There are so many more ways to perceive something that I can't tell who is who right away anymore."

The muddle of color, scent, and noise, both mental and otherwise, was receding. Either that or Alaphiath was getting better at sorting it all out. She could look towards the candidates and try to find the right fit.

This way, then, Kanyoth gestures with a sweep of her tail, then takes a couple steps forwards, towards the humans currently in the tent, crowding nearby Auth. She pauses to make sure Alaphiath walks with her.

Rioth is a big, bulky, muscular brown - she might be the biggest and most muscular of us all. Jjezreth and Haozieth are both greens, she informed her sister. I think they're all looking for their riders right now. Except maybe Jjezreth, who might have already found its human? Somebody named Ae'r? I think we're supposed to gather where the food is once we're bonded, so you'll probably find them all there if you don't find them while you're looking for your human.

Ilrioth, you're so BLUE. Purple, even! She rushed up (as much as hatchling legs could muster) and gave them a cheeky bunt, only somewhat mindful not to knock them off their feet.

Oh THAT was fun, too!

And she joined Ilrioth in their song in thoughts and voice, an energetic and LOUD cheerleader. You can do it! ALL OF YOU. You are SO beautiful, look at us! We will all be together! She had half a mind to bunt the eggs helpfully too, but a feeling older than anyone present told her to abstain. This was good and proper.

Her song wasn't as focused as Rioth wanted though; she continued her search, flinging her mind far and wide, looking for that familiar spark that had so captivated her before, her path taking her into a loose perimeter of the scene - was everyone out? Was everyone all right? What was going on over there, was Auth all right?

It was so MUCH, so GLORIOUS, it had been enough to distract her from the bronze-father's musings for now...fortunately for the bronze-father.

Uncertain steps attempted a steadier trot, and the steadier trot shortly attempted some gleeful bounding - undaunted every time she tripped over large limbs. She hooted happily at Jermeer and the apprentice, joining Ilrioth's trill harmoniously - her mind tickling the younger human's mind as she sang. Not hers, not quite - but she had a feeling...

I love you. I love you all. Hello, Diath! Auth? It is all right, Auth.

Her circling soon took her to Gwillanth and Pertemarth. She gave Perte a friendly little head-bump, and then stared up at Gwillanth, taking in the proper sight of her mother for the first time, heart hammering in her chest.

What could she say? How could Rioth tell her what she had felt or remembered, that she was her everything, that she wanted to be like her? That she was so impossibly brave, that Rioth will remember that above everything else? That Rioth loved her so much? It was a song in her chest, unformed, perhaps something honest now but able to be clarified and developed with age. She hummed her stray thoughts; it would become something, soon. She could wait now.

After a thoughtful moment, she pounced and fell, wings splayed, on one of her massive hands, holding tightly.

Thank you for looking after us.

She clung and clung, rubbing her cheek against Gwillanth's hide - but did not stay longer than necessary, parting with another little trill. That little gnawing in her head and heart had become a full and gaping chasm, and one young human was about to find out exactly what that meant...