Just a Touch

Xanadu Weyr - Hatching Sands
A domed ceiling stretches high above the sands, enough open air for a queen and her mate to be comfortable with their clutch. Thin slits of windows around the edges let in a little light, though more of the illumination comes from electric lamps diffused off the dome. The sands are ringed by the dark blue seats of the observation level, the first third exposed to the sweltering heat of the sands but those in the back glassed off for the comfort of those watching.
The circle itself is filled with a mix of red and white sands, deep enough to cover the largest of dragon eggs with ease. To one side, a small door is visible, hidden away behind a platform meant to provide a place for the clutch parent's lifemates to stand during the on goings.

The weyrlingmasters have tracked down willing sacrifices to throw back onto the heat of the sands, caving to Leirith's whims for yet another viewing of her egg-utiful children of which all need touching. Most candidates get to be faceless individuals crowding the sands without a high profile leader at their side, but NOT KYSZARIN. KYSZARIN GETS EXACTLY RISALI ATTACHED TO HIS ARM AND THE SMOLLEST STRIDE AS SHE DRAGS HIM OUT. She's looped her arm through her bigger little brother's, and there's a scrunch of her nose as she smiles at him once and then shoulderbumps against him. "Leirith had a special request that she got to see you for this one." « ONE MUST ALWAYS HAVE A BADASS IN ATTENDANCE. » Today, apparently, that's Kyszarin. But the moment booted feet hit sweltering ground, Risali is giving Kyszarin's arm a gentle squeeze in what might be a hug before she pushes away from him with a soft, "Try not to fall," as she breaks away and heads for shelter under Leirith. « YOU CAN CRY THOUGH, BUT ONLY IF IT'S IN A BADASS WAY AHAHAHAH. »

< Kyszarin touches egg 3 - Lazing in the Sun Egg >

"Yeah, I'll do my best." Some people might wonder why Kyszarin had wanted to leave the nice, quiet comforts of Ista Weyr for the boisterous Xanadu - especially since no matter how neurotic his mother must be, there's no way she can compare to the paternal side of his family. Sometimes, even Kyszarin wonders that - but not this day. Even if he's being paraded out at Risali's side. "And you're here," he remarks to the gold, casting a grin up at her, "so there's always a badass present." Aww. Flatterer. As Risali releases him, he gives the briefest squeeze back, casting her a toothy grin before striding across the Sands. He has a mission, and even if it means cutting off another Candidate - sorry, not sorry, Burunon - he manages to reach out and place his palm upon the Lazing in the Sun Egg before anyone else. Hah. Nyah.

IT'S FINE. Burunon just wasn't badass enough to make it and there's nothing wrong with that. Leirith brushes up against Kyszarin mentally with bass and drums, a wild cacophony of sound that dims and fades, leaving only hints of spun sugar and affection in her wake. THIS IS NOT ABOUT HER — though yes, she is indeed a badass. THIS IS ABOUT THOSE BABIES HE'S ABOUT TO TOUCH. And Leirith? She settles in to watch just as Risali does, the goldrider leaning against Leirith with ALL EYES ON KYSZARIN. NO PRESSURE.

The hand not planted upon the belly of the egg swipes across Kyszarin's forehead; there's a faint sheen of sweat, but these are the Hatching Grounds, and Xanadu is humidity central, so who's to say it's from whatever beast slumbers within that deceptively misshapen shell. Storm-blue eyes glint; stubbornness sets his jaw pugnaciously forward and he leaves his hand exactly where it it. Whatever's going on in his head, it's obviously sparked the STAY RIGHT THERE AND FITE ME part of his fight-or-flight response.

"Oh, you are Leirith's child for sure," Kyszarin mutters, his voice definitely loud enough to carry to at least the gold, if not also the gold's rider. That fact alone might be enough to have him pulling away, and indeed, for a brief moment his fingers begin to lift away from the shell - but then plop goes his palm smack down against the shell again, and he holds his ground. "Pretty enough," he agrees - but that is all he agrees with.

As if from a daze, Kyszarin rouses, drawing his hand away from the egg and shaking it out with a soft hiss. He studies the egg before him, a line furrowing his brow. "Seek your bribes elsewhere, little one," he advises it softly - and yet, there's a moment of reflection on his face, and he skims the back of his fingers over the curve of the shell before moving away. Shaking his head, he shoots a sidelong glance at Burunon, but says nothing to him, just nods his head and moves on. He has one more egg in his sights - and that would be the Unpredictable Winds Egg. The dichromatic egg draws him - the Sands' final mystery. And with a deep breath, he reaches out to touch, to grasp, to solve.

< Kyszarin touches egg 5 - Unpredictable Winds Egg >

"Come back." The words tumble from Kyszarin's lips before he even knows they're waiting. Not one, but both hands now rest upon the shell of the egg before him, and he kneels, heedless of the heat of the Sands, of the incongruity of trying to fold his long, lean frame into anything resembling a crouch. It's even odds, given the set of his jaw, the determination on his face, whether or not even an emergency would drag the healer from the Sands now - not until he's had a chance to know. To see. "Come back."

Silence. Kyszarin's head is bowed now, his forehead resting against smooth, warm shell, his fingers splayed, every last millimeter of skin, of whorl, of callus in contact. He does not call again; does not beckon, does not plead. He simply waits, ready. Maybe even just a bit eager?

Did he scream, or was it only in the silence of his mind? As Kyszarin pulls himself free from the vice-grip on his mind, he blinks, trying and failing to focus on anything at all. Slowly, all returns: the world about him, the heat, the shuffle of feet in sands, the murmur of other Candidates talking to the unborn dragons. With a shuddering sigh, he pushes himself to his feet, flexing fingers gone stiff from trying not to grab. He stands still for a long moment, staring down at the egg, then abruptly turns on heel and strides from the Sands. No, Leirith, he wasn't crying; those weren't tear-tracks on his cheeks. It was only sweat. Healer's honor. (Spoiler: It was totally tears.)

LISTEN LINDA (or WHATEVER YOUR NAME IS), Risali is already on the sands because the weyrlingmasters already brought a gaggle of WORTHY SACRIFICES, but here is another gathering of impression-hopefuls brought by THE MAN, THE LEGEND, THE ILA'DEN HIMSELF. Ila'den's gait speaks to mounting pain if the slight baring of canines every other step doesn't, but the man just keeps the hell on coming until he's on the sands and catching Risali's eye. She was watching Kyszarin depart with concern knitting her brows, and now she's staring at Ila'den with an expression that goes curiously flat before brows rise. Sometimes it's nice to be the boss of the people you love. She crooks a finger to bid him come hither, and Ila'den pauses only long enough to turn his attention back on candidates. "You know the rules. Don't do anything stupid, bow to Leirith —" since Xermiltoth seems to have been given respite from YELLING ABOUT GREATNESS, " — and if I have to save you, you're going to wish the dragons got to you first." And there he goes, towards Risali and the shelter Leirith provides — probably to get yelled at if the way Risali steps in closer and is talking to him says anything.

Freshly bathed — and thank FARANTH for that. Better than risk offending the clutch parents with the stink of fish. Or enticing them? Whatever. — Dannissin is herded onto the sands with the latest group of candidates. She barely manages to hide her eyeroll at the instructions and warning, arms folded over her chest as the baby hairs at her nape start to curl from sweat. She drops her arms long enough to bow to Leirith before crossing them again and moves away from the other candidates to casually stroll through the clutch. It takes her a moment, path seemingly random, before she comes to a stop before the Wild Tides Egg. Green eyes narrow in something that resembles a scowl, but might just be a considering expression. It's hard to tell with the perpetually grumpy Fortian redhead. Finally, she lets her arms drop and reaches out to trace a finger over one of those silver waves, glaring as though trying to see through the shell.

< Dannissin touches egg 6 - Wild Tides Egg >

Dannissin blinks, allowing her hand to drop, an does scowl at the silver lined egg, "Really?" Her tone is flat and unimpressed. Honestly, she looks like she wants to make a rude gesture at the offending egg. Or maybe kick it. Instead, she leans in and deliberately settles her hand flat against the shell. Apparently, she doesn't give up easy?

The notably slow blink from the Redhead, Last-Chance-To-Buy Edition, at Ila'den's back speaks as loudly as so simple a gesture can of the kind of doubt that might have gone on to be given enough voice to make things annoying interesting, were they not standing on the hatching sands where best behavior (AND THAT WAS IT, FOLKS, DON'T GET ANY LOFTY EXPECTATIONS GOING) is expected. Leirith, at least, is given the respect she's due, the sweep of bow every bit as exaggeratedly silly as the day Tejra ended up with a white knot belonging to Xanadu to add to her collection, but the very genuine smile that goes with it might go a long way to reassuring this exaggeration is out of fondness, not mockery. Even if that's not explicitly against the rules, it should be noted in case it's relevant later. It takes Tej longer than some others to touch her first shell, if only because she's gliding through the slightly more than handful upon which all her hopes for this chapter of her life hang~~ At least she's not nearly as dramatic as her typist about it all, expression one of a rapt sort of presence as if the rest of the world has fallen away for her even before she's seeking to connect with any eggs. Though none of the eggs escape her notice, it's the broken that calls to the broken, fingers drifting to trace the fragile filigree on Unpredictable Winds Egg.

< Tejra touches egg 5 - Unpredictable Winds Egg >

"Hey!" Dannissin's protest is a little too loud over the murmer of the others on the sands. She doesn't seem to notice the looks she's getting. Her glare hardens and she shifts her weight as though she really is going to haul back and kick the extremely rude! egg this time. The moment passes, though, and she ends up just shuffling her feet in the sand. What? It's hot! She blinks a couple of times, sniffing once and lifting her chin defiantly as she wipes a stray tear trickle of sweat from her right cheek, "No, it's not yours. It's mine." At least her growl is a lot lower, this time. She clenches her jaw and presses her other hand to the shell, right over one of those silver waves. It isn't getting away from her that easy!

Kyriel arrived at some point with the other gathered Candidates, rounded up from whatever chore or duty he'd been slated with at the time. He'll go through the motions of bowing, but then he hangs back while others might be eager or confident in their steps. Is he taking his time? Yes and no. There's a familiar, if fond, glance to one or two eggs he recalls; another is given a wide berth. Does he remember the warning Kyszarin said in passing a previous time? Very likely. Yet despite that and despite his previous and final encounter with another egg, he finds himself standing in front of one yet experienced. Kyriel takes another moment to look over the shell without contact, while he squares his shoulders and exhales heavily. Does he got this? (probably not) His hand extends, hovers for a beat and then lowers to tentatively press against the shell of Exaltation of the Sun Egg.

< Kyriel touches egg 1 - Exaltation Of The Sun Egg >

The stillness that comes to Tejra as she seeks, finds and becomes lost in the fleeting connection with the mind growing within this egg is profound. It is as though her attention is needed so wholly to be there, to not. miss. a. thing. that her awareness is yanked entirely out of her physical body to that elsewhere. There's no room for remembering to breathe, not until the body's need is downright desperate. A breath shudders into the redhead, pale eyes opening to lock on the intersection of two fissures near her fingertips. For one so habitually controlled in body, the shiver that runs down her spine and causing fingers to dance across the shell is something that surprises her. Her hand withdraws, breath rapid and uneven, almost as if something there unnerved this composed woman. Rocking a step back from the egg, she rubs her hands together, together, stops and stares at them a long moment before hands move abruptly toward the shell, as though they had to move before her mind caught up to just what she intended in order to meet that mind again. The gesture is done with enough control and care that there's no obvious danger to the egg, of course. BEST BEHAVIOR, remember?

A full body shudder visibly runs through Dannissin and she chokes back a quiet, broken sound, shaking her head. She lets her hands drop, trembling, at her sides and just stands there. For an entire minute. Just standing and staring down at the wave patterned egg. Without a word to anyone, or even a look at Leirith, she turns and heads toward the exit, first at a brisk walk, and finally at a run. She needs to get away. She can't do this! Not if they're all like that.

"Demanding much…!" Kyriel doesn't quite finish that statement coherently — it ends with a strangled noise of disgruntled surprise. Brows furrow, then pinch, his eyes narrowing as he appears to struggle to focus. Or is it to find a focal point? Then there's relief, short lived. Next his whole posture stiffens, as though kicked into flight or fight; thankfully, it's neither. He simply freezes, as if bracing for the inevitable. His next breath, when he remembers to complete it, escapes more as a low hiss. "That isn't nice," he grouses, hand almost withdrawn but he digs down for some resolve. Even if his expression holds a note of 'will he regret this?' to it.

"I can't," is almost inaudible, the words choked as hands flee jump away from the shell of the Unpredictable Winds Egg and go hiding under the opposite elbows, hugging her body awkwardly for a moment before one of those hands is needed to sweep across her face. Y'all, the wind in here is REAL FIERCE, it must have kicked up some sand or something into Tej's eyes. Her fingers are fast but it doesn't entirely cure the glassy quality to her eyes. There's a literally wavering moment of indecision as she sways slightly toward the egg before, a curiously throaty, "I'm sorry," is breathed out and she steps unsteadily away. Evidently, not too far though because it's as though she's hoping to use Wild Tides Egg to help steady her. RIP LAST-CHANCE-TO-BUY-MODEL, you were already marked down as low as things go~

< Tejra touches egg 6 - Wild Tides Egg >

RUN, DANI! Just kidding, you're already running. RUN FASTER, DANI. Double just kidding, because there's nowhere she can run fast enough. Ila'den looks very done with whatever Risali is saying (and to be fair, she looks very frustrated trying to say it) grey eye continuously straying to candidates and their progress until Dannissin is breaking away and Ila'den is stepping back right in the middle of Risali's words. The goldrider's hands go up in the air, a clear sign of exasperation (if miming to strangle the man as he heads towards the fleeing candidate behind his back doesn't say something) only LEIRITH BEATS THEM BOTH TOO IT. BOOP. SNOOT, MEET BELLY. DANI, MEET LEIRITH. « MINION, ARE YOU UNWELL? YOU HAVE ONLY TOUCHED ONE OF MY BADASSES AND THERE ARE SO MANY! AHAHAHAHA. IT WOULD BE EMBARRASSING — » "No!" Risali manages, strained, "it wouldn't!" « — IF YOU LEFT NOW. WHY DON'T YOU TRY THIS ONE? » Which one? She doesn't really say, she just BOOPS again in some wayward direction with Ila'den catching at her elbow (gently) to steady her. A low rasp of, "Alright?" that would probably be more comforting if he were ANYBODY ELSE. BUT HE'S NOT. "Do you want to go or do you want to try again, little bird? Ignore Leirith." « YES. I AM A VERY IMPORTANT NOBODY AHAHAHAHA. »

Kyriel slowly, cautiously, settles into a couch with his hand gliding over the shell; maybe he can find better sense of equilibrium while in the thick of whatever it is being thrown at him. "That's…" he hesitates, grimacing as another moment of lack of focus (or too much to focus on) comes and passes. Ugh! "Kind of better." But not really. If it could be visible, Kyriel would literally have his hackles up at this point — as it is, unlike some of the other eggs, he does not relax with this one. "Hold on, hold on…" he mutters next, almost a mantra and three-quarters a plea. He could take his hand away, sever the contact (how rude!) and remove himself but he does not. He is too focused, too lost in his own head and what is unfolding to realize his hand remains where it last stopped; palm flat, fingers slayed and unmoving.

Is that relief in Tej's exhale? So much so it's almost comical. It's even possible that whatever inner upheaval— er, dealing with the sand in her eyes, we mean, she hadn't fully realized she was putting her hand on an egg. It may therefore be a mistake that after she shifts to straighten up from what had somehow disturbingly, to her at least become a slight stoop, she gives the egg a very gentle pat as she murmurs, "Thank you." She probably didn't mean to prompt a reaction. And yet, the road to many a story that needs drinks to tell starts with good intentions, right?

Dannissin gulps in a very shaky breath when she's stopped by GIGANTIC GOLD DRAGON SNOOT, "I just…" She winces at the uncomfortably loud dragon voice echoing off the inside of her skull, putting her hands out to keep from plowing straight into Leirith. She's breathing hard and shaking her head. No she's not alright. Being called 'little bird', though? She straightens to her full, if diminutive though not as short as a certain WEYRWOMAN height and jerks her elbow away from the one-eyed weyrlingmaster's grip, her voice hard, "I'm fine." And very much not on board with that nickname, thank you very much! She turns on her heel and stalks, reluctantly, back toward the clutch. Apparently, she's going to try again. Not only is she going to ignore the VERY IMPORTANT NOBODY, she's also going to ignore Ila'den. Poor life decisions all around. Probably even more so when she reaches one hesitant, trembling hand toward the Unpredictable Winds Egg.

< Dannissin touches egg 5 - Unpredictable Winds Egg >

Things might have been fine, fiiiiiiine; they could have parted on nice neutral terms, but noooOOOoooooOOOooo. With the door closing, the opportunity is seized and were Tejra not fresh from an Experience that may or may not have gotten under her skin, she's caught by surprise now for a second time in a row how embarrassing~~ and this time it causes her to turn an indignant expression on a being that cannot fully appreciate it. Even so, there's something that seems bracing about the contact for the woman - a challenge she can answer in a way she simply couldn't face whatever came to her from Unpredictable Winds Egg. This? This she can deal with. This, in fact, she will refuse to be defeated by. WOULD SHE EVEN QUALIFY TO STAND FOR THESE EGGS IF TWO BESTED HER SELF-POSSESSION BADASSERY? What else would she even have to offer them?

For what it's worth, there seems to be a pause only long enough for Ila'den to register the pull from his grip and the sudden ferocity in Dannissin's posture before she stalks away. A beat, two, four and Ila'den laughs, a low, rasping sound to chase her to her next egg before he turns back to face his daughter (who has both hands on her hips this time and a VERY EXPECTANT LOOK ON HER FACE) and her dragon. Right. Even, measured steps carry him back towards more itty-bitty sass and the women who wield it. TIME TO FACE THE MUSIC. AGAIN.

Dannissin's breath catches and she snatches her hand away, eyes wide. Oh. Well then. She sucks in a deep breath, looking over at Leirith, first, then glaring at Ila'den, before turning her attention back on the gold flecked and crackled shell before her. She doesn't even notice her tears — and those are definately tears, this time, not sweat, no matter how much she might try to pretend otherwise — that fall this time. She hesitates, again; reaching out to the egg and pulling her hand back toward her chest for a moment before finally reaching for it and allowing her hand to settle flat against the warm surface.

At last! Kyriel begins to relax. It's a gradual procession, each second he lingers and the longer the contact remains, the more the tension bleeds from him. He breaths out roughly, grimace still present but not as pinched; whatever has shifted has allowed him to gain better footing. "Surprises are all on you," he mutters, bemused. His features twist in an array of emotions, to quick from one to the next to truly pinpoint — it's likely a result of some rapid fire response from the presence inside the egg. "Maybe," he near-whispers and now there's a hint of a smirk. "Maybe. I don't know yet." Abruptly he blinks, jolted back to reality; was it the egg or his realization of talking out loud? Who knows. He pulls back his hand, rolling his shoulders while staring down, now silent, at the egg; a heartbeat or three later, he shakes his head and steps away. He drifts, circling one egg, familiar and then another, unhurried. Only when he is certain, does he close in on Lazing in the Sun Egg and reaches out once again.

< Kyriel touches egg 3 - Lazing in the Sun Egg >

Lower lip trembling in barely restrained emotion, Danni is visibly struggling with whatever it is that the developing young mind within that sunset and night sky shell shows her. Another shuddery breath and the pale redhead falls to her knees at the base of the egg, practically leaning against the darker side, "I don't want to go…" It's barely a whisper, a plea not to leave her, "I won't go anywhere. I'm right here." So much for the tough girl facade she keeps up around the other candidates, "Please?"

"Huh," Kyriel remarks distractedly, as he moves to settle himself in a more relaxed stance; which is to say he's wary but not as tense. Neither is he wholly comfortable and he pauses at one moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead on the opposite arm. The sands are hot! And whatever is being exchanged in this connection is also making him sweat … perhaps literally. He twitches, hand snapping away as he rocks back slightly on his heels. "… seriously?" Scowling, Kyriel takes a moment to glare at consider the egg in front of him, even glancing over his shoulder as though contemplating leaving to venture to another one … but he doesn't. He sets his jaw, leans forward and places his hand firmly back on that shell!

Dannissin… breaks. If she thought that first egg was bad, this one is even worse! Her hands drop, grasping onto her own shoulders as she sobs brokenly for a moment, crumpled in on herself. Another deep, shaky breath and she's sitting back up and impatiently wiping tears from her face. She glares at the egg, for some reason feeling betrayed, though she can't name why, "Screw you." And now we're cursing at fetal dragons. Very mature of you, Danni. She pushes herself up to her feet, still shaking, and walks away. Again. She just needs a breather. And a drink. Preferrably a strong one, but water will have to do.

U N F A I R. That's what these eggs are. Prompting all these bizarre and uncharacteristic responses from poor, not-even-a-little-innocent candidates that have questionably been allowed on hatching sands hither and yon, touching so many eggs that one might understandably imagine having seen and done it alllllll. But nooooo, Xanadu's eggs have to be one-of-a-kind. So rude, especially considering their bombastic and glittery lineage. This time, it's a HEART CLUTCH. Okay, it's not actually a heart clutch because that would be a bit much, but the way Tej's traitorous free hand sweeps upward before she stills it to press against her midriff suggests it could have gone that way if she weren't thoroughly over these uncontrolled responses to these unnecessarily provocative eggs. She doesn't speak to this egg, slightly widened eyes the only response to whatever is conveyed to her before she's sweeping her hand along the shell gently in what might be a farewell to the kindred spirit mind within. This time, stepping away leaves her with a moment to actually compose herself and perhaps that will help her avoid further embarrassment impulsive action. Her stride to Exaltation Of The Sun is purposeful and the hand that meets it is, this time, ready. Or so she thinks~~

< Tejra touches egg 1 - Exaltation Of The Sun Egg >

"Wow," Kyriel breathes and there is awe there in his tone but it's tinged with a note of sarcasm. He can't quite bite back the scoff that follows, a touch more incredulous. The scrutiny and digging, he allows and in turn he is staring at the shell and the patterns lain across it; not so much to delve for secrets, but more like… he is trying to puzzle it out and finds himself all the more uncertain. There's a wince when it finally registers that the hot is not just from the sands and his hand jerks away, only to flex and then replace itself when the sensation ebbs enough for comfort.

Perhaps Tejra is finally hitting her stride because this egg prompts laughter. It's light and a little breathless, but certainly authentic. The grin is brief, the sun tipping out from behind a cloud only to be swallowed again in the next breath. "Destination. Or belief, depending on how you look at it," are words meant for the egg alone, though not kept particularly quiet. Could she think it and have the egg listen? Can it hear from within? Perhaps not, but perhaps in the face of the waves of emotion and experience it's just grounding to speak the words in a dimension so often left behind in making these connections. Her hand stays where it's planted, shifting only enough to lay her palm more fully against the shell, eyes closing to take in whatever might be next.

Was that a sneeze? Kyriel is either masking a sneeze or an outright laugh (it could be both). Sorry, not sorry to the clutch parents! "I wouldn't even know where to find any," he mutters with a lopsided smirk. His hand slips away, dropping back to his side as he rises, sparing one last quick glance to the egg beside him. With another huff of amusement and shake to his head, he wanders back through the clutch and notably avoiding one egg. If only because another has caught his eye; the last, perhaps, not yet greeted. His hand is already reaching for the shell, before he's fully settled himself in front of Wild Tides Egg.

< Kyriel touches egg 6 - Wild Tides Egg >

"… what'd I do!?" Kyriel sounds so genuinely perplexed that it could very well be comical. IS THIS PAYBACK for laughing at the other one? He steps back, staring down at the egg with a sort of incredulousness to match the (almost childish) scowl. Then he looks at his hand, flexing it thoughtfully as he mulls something over in his head. POOR CHOICES? Perhaps. TWO CAN PLAY the rude game — or Kyriel really is in a mood to push. Clearly, he didn't learn from previous experiences~ With false confidence, Kyriel places the whole of his hand, palm and all, again on the egg.

Kyriel braces, readied and… nothing. He frowns, tilting his head, likely questioning that initial reaction while he waits. And waits — it's not quite a staring contest but maybe something close to it. A battle of patience, to be sure and his is likely threadbare by the time he exclaims, a touch haughty: "Knew it! I knew you'd be, eventually…" He'll drift back into silence then, sinking back into the depths of his thoughts as the presence within dredges up plenty for the both of them to reflect on. This time, the mental 'push' is met with only a snickered breath and he'll let his hand slip away until only the fingertips trace the shell; just a brief respite, before he can no longer resist. Who's curious now? Kyriel is and he'll tempt fate and luck by placing his full hand on the shell one last time.

The way Tej's nose crinkles at the bridge heralds a smile that presses her lips together and reaches her eyes. For this egg, at least, the nearly-expired candie is able to bring some measure of calm. Sure, there might be a moment where the crinkled nose becomes a wrinkle with one eye popping open in an expression of passing distaste, but it's so fleeting it might as well have never been, right? Here, Tej seems much more inside her comfort zone for better or worse. Pale eyes flash toward Leirith, just checking, but return swiftly to the egg under her hands.

Tempted fate and luck and got a bit of a kick in the as— behind for it! Not as deeply jarring, but Kyriel isn't laughing this time. His expression has fallen, all earlier arrogance and confidence wiped away and replaced by uncertainty. Troubled and thoughtful. "Guess I should've expected that." he sighs and when the connection is once more shut off, he is withdrawing his hand and back, steadily, on his feet. This time, he drifts away from the eggs, lurking on the edges of the clutch as he remains pensive and distracted, well into his own head despite the wandering sweep of his gaze. Undecided, as of yet, if he's done or wiling to chance one more encounter.

The sharp edges to the wicked smile Tej's lips take on next might be the sort to inspire clutchparents with EVEN AN OUNCE OF SENSE to eject the harper from the sands. WHAT RESPONSIBLE PARENT WANTS THAT KIND OF PERSON INFLUENCING THESE YOUNG MINDS?! Don't answer that, assumptions can and will be made a n y w a y. The redhead's hand pulls away from the shell with a low laugh and she turns to stroll away from Exaltation Of The Sun Egg. Perhaps thinking to end her time on the sands on a high note, it's time for Tej to make the appropriate noises to see her safely off the sands, leaving mysteries yet for another time~~

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