Touch Me Once, Shame On You!

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.

Do you know what Ilyscaeth likes to do? Ilyscaeth likes to wake her candidates up bright and early. Just on normal days, mind. TODAY? The sun's not even up, and she's already bellowing, a fanfare of noise heralding her glorious, glorious voice. Or actually just her exceedingly louder than normal voice. « SANDS, NOW, MY EGGS'S. COME ON, THEY'RE WAITING! » Was there a Weyrlingmaster already on the task of waking the poor, unfortunate egg-fodder up? Yes. Doesn't matter. Ilyscaeth's got it under control. Citayla doesn't even look like this is abnormal, slumped on a chaise on her nice platform whenever the poor Candidates wandering in. "Morning," The goldrider mumbles, maybe loud enough for them to hear. "Don't bother trying the ones they're cuddling. Don't wake me up, if I fall asleep." …well. Look. It is early. « DON'T WORRY, I WILL KEEP AN EYE ON YOU. »

Stefyr is a naturally early riser (except that one unfortunate morning of Turnover that we won't talk about now) but he seems extra awake this morning. Thanks, Ilyscaeth. Having a gold dragon boom into his brain may not be an entirely foreign experience, really. Just now, the big blond is spending 90% of his energy on just breathing, but even if he weren't, he would be on his best behavior. Something about stepping onto scalding sands occupied by large dragons has a way of inspiring a man (at least one raise by Stefyr's mum) to straighten up and be extra polite. His bow to the dragons is unpracticed, but deep. He lingers a moment as though maybe he's not sure if he wants to straighten again and face these large ovoids. If anyone were taking bets, it would be a sure thing that this is the most frightening and awe-inspiring moment of his life to date. (Look, farms aren't THAT exciting, okay?) His blue gaze skirts across the other occupants of the sands, fingers trembling at his sides and just standing there a long moment before he mans up and slowly approaches the most farmerly of the eggs. Maybe it's the least intimidating because there's something weirdly familiar about it, but his whole arm has a little shake to it which he steadies with a slow in and out breath (eyes closed) before he opens his eyes again and carefully, so carefully, lays his hand on the shell of Prize-Winning Produce Egg.

< Stefyr touches egg 8 - Prize-Winning Produce Egg >

Khavro rarely has trouble going from asleep to awake, ever ready to put his restless energy to use, and today is no different. While he doesn't seem nervous to be on the sands, he is at least cautious of not making a poor impression. He bows as is polite, and hangs back long enough to both get an idea of what people are doing, and where they're doing it. Then he's heading toward the Kissed by the Wild egg to crouch down beside it, and skim his palm over its surface.

< Khavro touches egg 1 - Kissed by the Wild Egg >

Stefyr works for Leirith, y'all. Okay, he works for Rhodelia and then the Junior Weyrwomen and then Risali and D'lei, but ultimately, I think we all know who's in charge. So having mental contact with a dragon is no longer a totally new experience for him, but whatever he feels of the Prize-Winning Produce Egg's occupant must be a whole other experience because the former farmer's expression transforms into one of absolute wonder and awe. It's magic, y'all. He looks like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time. A small gasp escapes him and his body shudders ever so slightly. His eyes are wide, but unseeing. Slowly, slowly, a second hand rises to touch the shell's surface with the first hand. If he tries to connect more, will he see more?

Khavro flinches just noticeably away from the Kissed by the Wild egg, but not so much that his hand lifts away from its shell. He stares at it before his gaze lifts up to skim over it, distant but purposeful, focusing less on the here and now and more on the egg itself. Whatever it's selling, he's interested.

Stefyr really can't be the first large man felled by the weight of sudden feelings he had no way to anticipate. His hands only briefly, briefly, leave the Prize-Winning Produce Egg, and only because he doesn't want to hurt it with his weight because his weight is sinking, the man brought to his knees by whatever it is he senses, feels, experiences. Shells. He's not crying. NO, it's SAND. IT'S SAND IN HIS EYES. Okay, he's not sobbing, but there are a couple of tear tracks and a strangled gasp that is trying so hard not to be a sob and just barely succeeding. He's too wrapped up in these feelings to let his hands drop so once they touch the surface of the egg again, they stay for another moment longer.

The dragons have been /so loud/, and to those who are new to dragons all the excess sound is depriving them of sleep anyways. Despite laying awake in the early morning hours listening to the singing spectacle that is Xermiltoth and Ilyscaeth, Evangeline does not get right up. Hair is braided, cats are tucked into her bunk and she is FULLY dressed before in the Foyer. Today Evangeline wears a long chartreuse skirt, that covers her to nearly her ankles, the word

Stefyr's hands fall from the Prize-Winning Produce Egg, but only because his arms have to wrap around his middle as his head falls forward and silent sobs wrack him. Probably, he hadn't heard that this kind of crazy thing could happen just from touching an egg or he wouldn't have dared. His hands squeeze tight, tight, tight to his sides and it takes him some real moments to get himself together. HOPEFULLY NO ONE SAW THAT because Stefyr is going to act like that didn't just completely change his world. His hands reach up to rub across his face, leaving behind tear-bright blue eyes, but no actual tears. Another few steadying breaths and he's carefully getting to his feet, his fingers reaching to barely graze the shell he's leaving before he moves with renewed purpose across to lay a hand gently but firmly to The Beast That Calls the Egg's shell.

< Stefyr touches egg 7 - The Beast That Calls the Egg >

Ilyscaeth's one who makes sweet, motherly kinds of noises as the Candidates approach her eggs — for all her bluster and noise, she's happy to see them here. The gold, one paw curled loosely around her last-laid egg, cranes her head to examine Stefyr curiously. Rumbles, soft, head tilting this way and that. She doesn't quite shoulder-pat him with a broom, but look, the impression of it is kind of there. Khavro gets a long look, gaze lingering on him for a few beats. Apparently deciding that he's not worrysome, the gold turns to a girl eyeing the egg in her grip. « Not now. Maybe later. » Ily hums, quieter now — either not wanting to…startle jumpy candidates, or antything, as she scans the little group watchfully.

Stefyr's hand recoils from the contact it held with The Beast that Calls the Egg almost immediately, and it's not even because of whatever lingers from that sensation from the clutchdam. No this is something that has to do with the egg. His expression is not full of awe this time but the much more familiar expression of puzzlement. That wasn't like the first. He casts a glance back over toward the Prize-Winning Produce Egg before looking back to The Beast That Calls The Egg, barely managing not to actually wrinkle his nose at it before he moves on to touch Favor the Dark Egg.

< Stefyr touches egg 6 - Favor the Dark Egg >

Khavro loses his balance, shifting forward onto his knees when the Kissed by the Wild egg is done with him again. He blinks. Once. Twice. Gathering himself, and maybe what he's learned about himself, while he traces the curve of the egg just to make sure whether that's all it will give him.

The dragons have been /so loud/, and to those who are new to dragons, all the excess sound is depriving them of sleep anyways. Despite laying awake in the early morning hours listening to the singing spectacle that is Xermiltoth and Ilyscaeth, Evangeline does not get right up. Hair is braided, cats are tucked into her bunk, and she is FULLY dressed before in the Foyer. Today Evangeline wears a long chartreuse skirt, that covers her to nearly her ankles, the word BOUNTIFUL is written across it in bright yellow thread. On her upper body is a top that is a yellow and green plaid, the sleeves going to her forearm, and the collar buttons tightly at her neck. The brightest, most uptight Victorian school teacher /ever/. She advances onto the sands, one toe is tapped in and then out. DO YOU THINK THIS WATER IS SANITARY, LOOKS QUESTIONABLE TO ME. Deep breath Evi, and another, yep, still breathing nice checking in. Stepping out onto the sands, she gives a deep curtsy to Ilyscaeth, and each step forward is both laborious and slow because she stops to watch the clutch parents every few steps. Don't look suspicious. No, don't look suspicious. DON'T be SUSPICIOUS. DON'T BE SUSPICI-OUS. The first egg she reaches is Egg of the Eternal dance. Slowly, like it might jump if she doesn't arrive with great care, her hands meet the surface. OH Evi, is going to be ok girlfriend.

< Evangeline touches egg 5 - Egg of the Eternal Dance >

Stefyr's mother would swat him with a spoon if she heard the swear that leaves his lips with fervor as his yanks his hand back from Favor the Dark Egg as if it burnt him. He pants, he sweats, he reaches up to rub at his throat, to press a hand against his chest as if somehow that contact will help, but it doesn't really seem to change the expression of unease that has settled on his features. The young man steps back, glances behind him and then steps back some more. He just stands and looks at all the eggs as if evaluating. Does he want to touch more?

Khavro flails back this time. It could be mistaken for finally recoiling from the Kissed by the Wild egg, but it's not that he doesn't want to stay with it. The hand that had been touching the shell is holding his chest now, he's panting as though struggling against a surge of adrenaline, but then he realizes he's on his butt and he scrambles up to his feet. One last glance to the egg before he's searching out another. He settles beside the Beast That Calls and touches this one a bit more matter of factly now that he's an old hat.

< Khavro touches egg 7 - The Beast That Calls the Egg >

Ilyscaeth watches Evangeline with amusement, hums a note that might be a greeting or might be encouragement, it's a little hard to tell when she's mostly exuding bigtime Mama Chicken vibes. Except, there's less pecking and angry screeching involved. You know what. Never mind. No chicken. Happy mama dragon vibes, including patient humming for Stefyr and Khavro. « Easy. » The dam clucks — I MEAN — head swinging back and forth. "They don't really know what they're doing. Don't mean to be…like that." Cita explains, groggily, not even lifting her head up from where it's pillowed on an arm. "Don't take it personally." HOW DOES SHE KNOW? Well. She had to touch the damn eggs once, too.

Stefyr stands on the sands there more than a minute or two, his arms hugged around his middle, his eyes going from egg to egg of the ones he's already touched. HE JUST NEEDS A MINUTE OR FIVE, OKAY, ILYSCAETH?! Big feelz happening here. He glances back toward the exit of the hatching sands and closes his eyes for a five count after. Then, slowly, he moves to Haloed in Light Egg, walking slowly around it before he finds a place he wants to put his hand, and this time, so tentatively.

< Stefyr touches egg 4 - Haloed in Light Egg >

Now, I, for one, do not believe in aliens. I think people need to do fewer drugs, but Evangeline might be a believer. As her fingers make contact with the egg, she jerks backward, hand still making contact as the noise assaults, a smile spreads on her face. Rocking slightly back at forth breath is sucked from between her teeth, "WAT. ARE YOU." Snakes out from between clenched teeth. But whatever is in the shell seems to summon her and has her in its tractor beam. Closing her eyes, she rolls her neck on her shoulders, a frown forming and deepening. "You, I…" Whatever is going on with Egg of the Eternal Dance, it prompts Evi to brush the back of her hand over the egg, the way a mother might stroke the face of a sleeping child. "Hello little one, my name is Evangeline." The introduction is whispered towards the shell, a private moment between her and the unborn.

Stefyr used all his luck on that first egg. Seriously. This one makes him whimper, his eyes pinch like he's hiding while standing right there in front of the egg for all to see. He slides down into a crouch, but for some reason his hand doesn't seem to know it's supposed to lift away from the shell of the Haloed in Light Egg, so it stays.

Khavro has no visible reaction to this egg. He simply closes his eyes and keeps his hand resting gently against its warm surface. The Beast That Calls the egg isn't getting his heart pumping quite like the Kissed by the Wild egg, but he doesn't seem to mind that, either.

Stefyr's, "Oh," is so quiet, his eyes still closed. The one sound is such a noise of empathy that it might explain why not only does his hand gently push flat against the egg enhancing the contact, but why, even though he's still crouched, the other hand goes to join the first on the shell of Haloed in Light Egg.

Stefyr's hands fall into his lap, exhausted all over again, his eyes closed and head hanging. He doesn't move for a handful of breaths. Then, slowly, slowly, he rises and walks slowly to a spot on the sand where he can see the eggs, but not where he's close enough to touch any of them. Another look goes to the sands exit, but he dares not make move that way, not yet.

Khavro pulls his hand away from the Beast that Calls the egg now, not offended, but maybe worried about what his answer to that question might be. Or more worried that the egg might… judge him for it? Either way, he's up on his feet now and it doesn't matter. He heads for the Favor the Dark egg now, but glances back toward his first. Can anything live up to that?

< Khavro touches egg 6 - Favor the Dark Egg >

Some people have demons, y'all. Those demons can manifest in any number of ways. As Evangeline brushes her hand against Egg of the eternal dance for the second time, she freezes. The teenage girl all dressed in bright neon colors flinches, mouth set in a hard line. Swallowing down, she does not recoil from whatever the egg sends her though her face suddenly appears tormented her brows furrowed and body shuddering. The private moment she has with this egg has her rocking back and forth shoulders stiff. With one deep breath, she turns her palm over, and under her breath, she says, "That's me… I am awful." Palm makes contact with the surface of the shell, and fingers splayed out so that her whole hand is touching it.

Ilyscaeth doesn't seem to notice that she keeps waking Xermi, prodding him with a wing when one or the other of the candidates do something particularly adorable. IT'S FINE, XERMI. DON'T WORRY. Ilyscaeth doesn't! She's making rolling, lilting noises at all of her little chickens, now, exuding calm-happy like it's her job. This, apparently, is quite enough to send Cita off to dreamy-dreamland, since she snores pretty raucously up there on her chaise. Ilyscaeth seems to take this as her cue to quiet down a little, still watchful, curious. « Now, my little eggs's, don't you wanna visit with them? They've been so excited to meet you. » Drag Stefyr back to the eggs? Okay, maybe not, but Ily's passable with the carrot, anyways.

If Ilyscaeth was Leirith, Stefyr would give her an honest to Faranth dirty look. She's not, though, and as such, the look that goes toward the gold is half plea, half put-upon. SURE. HE'S EXCITED TO MEET THEM TOO. Actually, he's probably just on complete and total overload. Still, he is pretty predictable about doing as he's told/suggested/carrot-ed to do. After some slow movements across the sand (there are no drag marks behind him, so you can't prove that he was dragging his feet), he touches The Smoke That Rose Egg.

< Stefyr touches egg 3 - The Smoke That Rose Egg >

Nope. Khavro pulls his hand away. That one's like the opposite of getting your heart pumping and he's not here for that right now. It's nothing personal, it's totally him. He surveys the eggs as he stands up all the way again, like he's wondering if he has the fortitude to keep going. Then his steps take him toward the Fool Moon egg. "Okay," he says to it, bracing, before his hand settles against the shell.

< Khavro touches egg 2 - Fool Moon Egg >

Evangeline removes her hand from the shell; if she looked lost before she got on the sands, the look of bewilderment currently encompassing her entire body is enough to stop a stranger in public. The heat of the sand prompts her to move, one eye going to Ilyscaeth as her hands pull up her skirt. Fingers wind with vivid green fabric; her skirt armor is gripped tightly. "Thank.. you." A small curtsy to the egg, even though IT HAS NO EYES MMK. Stepping off, she moves towards an unoccupied egg. Before her hand makes any contact with Fool Moon Egg, she says to it. "Hello, little one, I am Evangeline." A polite warning to the unborn, a kindness. Fingers barely brush the surface of the shell, the gentle brush of a mother's hands — the bare minimum for contact.

< Evangeline touches egg 2 - Fool Moon Egg >

Aaaaand he's done. Stefyr's hand comes away from The Smoke That Rose Egg, his arms folding across his chest, shoulders hunching and he's moving back to where he was, away from the eggs. This time, however, he bows to the dam and sire, low again, slow again, and then he may or may not be taking steps whenever they look away that bring him closer and closer to the sands exit. (He totally is.)

Is Ilyscaeth watching Evangeline, previously-blue eyes struck through with little flecks of yellow here and there? It's possible. It's possible that she's shifting, too, wings mantling up to stretch towards the girl — but she doesn't, can sometimes read whether she'd be welcome or not, and well. The girl is in the middle of all of her eggs. She'll settle for rumbling lowly, glancing between Stefyr and Evi, then on down to Khavro. Whatever she sees stills the gold, and she settles a little, tail starting to inch back around her brood. Cita doesn't wake up, though, so there's that?

Khavro's hand comes away from the Fool Moon egg and if he wasn't offended before, he might be now. Nobody warned he might have feelings about various eggs he's touched. Or if they did, he wasn't paying very close attention. A quick scan is cast over the remaining eggs, but he seems uninclined to touch any of them. Too many feels for one day, thanks.

If Egg of the Eternal dance undid Evi, whatever comes from Fool moon Egg is knitting her back into a brand new creation. We are like drums; we couldn't make sound if we hadn't been hit. A gleeful look comes over her face, her eyes going to Ilyscaeth and her mouth opening a bit. "Hello, Ilyscaeth. Thank you." The sincerity in every word, her eyes bright and happy with this current egg. Both of her hands are out, fingers extended as if she is going to crown Fool Moon egg with an imaginary circlet. "YOU are so special. You know that right. Hello, little one, I am.. Evangeline." She keeps repeating this as if the introductions are essential to her.

Stefyr's exit-wards shuffled is noted, an AWLM swings into his path, making a gesture to the other (ma)lingerer, Khavro, and beckons with his fingers to draw both boys with low emotional capacities toward the exit. He might even ask beyond a summary check that they're okay, because STEFYR IS TOTALLY FINE, GUYS, but is the AWLM to be blamed if boys don't want to talk about their feelings with sort-of-strangers?

Groggy eyed and on the Sands is not something that Rhodelia is completely unfamiliar with. She's been here, truly she has! Bowed to both dam and sire as any good candidate should before taking her sweet, sweet time perusing the eggs. As an AWLM starts to hone in, maybe picking up on the fact that she hadn't actually touched and egg during this egg touching, Rhody's hands grab out to carefully honka-honka at the nearest melon eerrr, egg that looks like the a melon. Look, groping is okay since Ilyscaeth asked them to, right?

Khavro is more than happy to have an excuse offered him to make his way back into the not-sands world. And he certainly won't be asking how Stefyr is doing, so everyone's safe from feelings and stuff for now.

< Rhodelia touches egg 8 - Prize-Winning Produce Egg >

Ilyscaeth is looking maybe a little sulky that her babies aren't immediately adored to pieces, but who's counting, here? NOBODY, OKAY. She's just going to set up sad violins for herself, or maybe that's Xermi. Who can really tell. Citayla, still snoring gloriously, is completely oblivious to the gold's minor tiff, which is probably for the best. The snit? Dissolves immediately on the concurrent greeting from Evangeline and Rhodelia's arrival — Ily's back to making happy noises almost immediately, crooning bright, warm. You go, little egg-friends, you do you. Maybe don't put too much stock into brood-weird dragons.

Whelp, as soon as you've started to knit again and the piece looks good, you drop a stitch, and all you have is YARN. Both of Evangeline's hands come off the shell and flop down to her side. Lips are pursed, and then her head drops down to her chest. Tightly shuttering her eyes, Evi's head shakes back and forth, braids smacking her face. A long moment passes, her attention drawn to others as they leave, and it appears that she might also go for a moment. A step is taken towards the exit, and then back towards fool moon egg. "Hello again, little one, I am Evangeline." Her name is repeated in a soft voice, the way one would speak to a newborn baby who they desperately wanted to know. A hand extends, fingertips brushing as she walks around the egg, making an invisible line with her fingers, like fingerpainting without any actual paint.

Rooted is all too appropriate as Rhodelia seems fixated on this one egg that's trying to be the melon to end all melons. Like a granny at the farmer's stall, the assistant's hands slowly caress the shell, looking for any bumps or blemishes. Surely Ilyscaeth wouldn't lay a wonky egg, but can one ever be too sure?

-< Rhodelia touches egg 6 - Favor the Dark Egg >

Rhodelia shivers, despite the heat. Even the most pleasant of eggs can, without fail, find a way into whatever weak spots a candidate might have in their own psyche. The slow parade of happy days, rooted to one place is a bit too much. Or is it? With one last bittersweet pat, she whispers to the egg. "I can point out a couple good gardeners for you if you're interested." But for now, Rhody and her black thumb will head over to the void of Favor the Darkness.

"Thank you." Evangeline says to Fool Moon Egg, her hands are tucked into her skirt pockets. Despite the warmth of the sands, the young woman is covered in goosebumps, the kind that comes from mental contact forcing one out. The teen girl is sweating a little, maybe it's her extremely bright outfit or the heat, but beads of sweat can be seen on her face. One full rotation around Full moon egg is complete, and despite having woken up recently, she looks tired, introspection is exhausting. The smoke that rose Egg is eyed, and Evangeline walks towards it. Something about the ability to run away from mental contact has made the girl bolder. "What if.. I am not ready." Her voice is , BARELY audible; the words are sacred and quiet. With that, she wanders to The Smoke That Rose Egg and says ritualistically, "Hello there, tiny dragon. I am Evangeline. I came to see you. " After a whispered introduction, she does something different. Leaning close into the egg, she places her ear against it with the gentlest pressure. DO YOU WANNA BUILD A SNOWMAN?

< Evangeline touches egg 3 - The Smoke That Rose Egg >

Rhodelia gasps and can't run from the goosebumps that are forming, despite the heat. Running is probably against one of those rules anyways, especially when surrounded by ever hardening baby dragon eggs. Her mouth purses as she recoils her hand, glaring at the egg in front of her. "You don't know me." Although spookier thought is maybe the little unborn telepathic creature inside does know her. Enough of those thoughts and enough of that egg. Rhodelia continues on to press her luck with another dark egg, but this one a bit flashier than the last. Can Light of the Mother Moon provide some guidance?

< Rhodelia touches egg 9 - Light of the Mother Moon Egg >

« MINE. » Has Ilyscaeth ever taken that tone with Rhodelia? Anybody else? The girl approaches the egg Xermi's got in his grasp, and the gold doesn't…lunge, okay. She doesn't. She's got the final egg in her paws, after all. She does snap her head over that way, though, alarm flashing in her eyes. The sensation of a cough, mental throat-clearing, and the gold settles: « …I'm sorry, Leirith's Minion. They sleep. » She explains, gentler, a brush of soft nebulae and gentle piano to ease any sting. « The others wait, though. » Cita? Well. She snores, particularly loudly, sitting up and muttering something like "Bacon?" before collapsing back against her arm. So clearly, she is super concerned.
girl? no.

You know, sometimes it's better not to ask any questions! As soon as Ilyscaeth takes that tone, Rhodelia will jump back, hands up in the I'M NOT TOUCHING IT, SEE! gesture. She will eye Xermiltoth as she's not completely sure if the sleepy bronze didn't somehow teleport their with that egg in his paws as a trap! If anybody would do it… either way, a now even more pale Rhodelia will give shaky courtsy to the gold. "I'm sorry… I know I don't like to get woken up much either." So she certainly won't poke the sleepy eggs again. Her ghost-white self will float over to haunt the eggs on the FAR, FAR, FAR SIDE of the hatching grounds. Daring and a lack of thought might have gotten her nearly eaten once… but Rhody has been known to press her luck. Before completely vacating the sands, her fingertips just can't help but touch the Fool Moon Egg. Appropriate, no?

< Rhodelia touches egg 2 - Fool Moon Egg >

Evangeline crouching down, her head tilts enough to the side enough that she is no longer making contact with The Smoke That Rose Egg. Evi wraps her arms around herself, looking long and hard at the egg that is next to her. "Getting.. ahead of yourself." Standing up, she moves away from the entire clutch, watching Ilyscaeth and Xermiltoth with Rhodelia; she gasps a bit, hand going to her mouth. Choosing another egg, possibly one further from the clutch parents, her feet find her in front of Favor the Dark egg. Crouching down into a squat, she leans her face forward until her mouth is nearly touching the shell, and she whispers, "Good morning, little one, are you awake today?" Evangeline's lips press the smallest kiss to the egg, and her cheek rests upon it. The tenderness displayed is not a display; it seems almost vulgar in its total innocence. Every move she makes is gentle and quiet, a peace that cannot be taught.

< Evangeline touches egg 6 - Favor the Dark Egg >

Rhodelia can only press her luck so many times in one day. The good news is… this Fool of an Egg doesn't try to eat her or expose her deepest darkest secrets. Maybe it's a dud? She pulls her hand back to evaluate it, hands on her hips. Is it worth another touch? But a hint of movement over with dam or sire (or maybe it was just shadows), has Rhodelia straightening up, paling once more. With a gulp, she looks not for another shell to touch, but for the exit. RHODY IS OUTTA HERE!

« They sleep. Don't worry. » Ilyscaeth is almost contrite; as if this explanation of their state, the same as before, is supposed to be soothing. Only slightly unsettled, still, the gold twitches a wing, glances back and forth between Rhodelia and the eggs. If a dragon knew the purpose of shuffling her feet, ashamed, Ily might just give it a go — as it is, she watches the candidate go wistfully. Pats her nose once or twice against the egg in her grasp, heaving a massive sigh. At least Citayla's not awake to yell at her? The gold glances in Evangeline's direction, side-eye style. She didn't…see that, did she? No? RIGHT.

Scrambling back from Favor the dark Egg, her eyes are swimming in tears, and she jerks up to standing like a marionette attached to so many strings. She is rocking back and forth with hands clutched in front of her, gasping for air, the air is too hot. Much too hot. Gasp. Gag. Gasp. All the world is lost for a moment as she stands feet from this egg, hands making small claws and covering her face as if somehow she is still trapped somewhere very far away. Gasp. Gag. Her breathing is speeding up as if she is being chased, and all the composure she has shown this morning is shattered by the mind of this young dragon. She is frozen in place, her eyes wide with fear and respect as if she has seen a god rise from the ground and crush an entire hold. Gasp. Gag. Everyone should be thankful she had no breakfast, as nothing comes from the gagging. Watching someone drown in a pool of sand is an exceptional occurrence, but whatever has Evi has her good and is not letting her go just yet.

Did somebody say Citayla? Sleeping? Not any more! "Whaz?" The healer mumbles vaguely, roused from her early-morning nap, because Ilyscaeth is moving again — this time actually moving. So, so carefully moving the Balance egg out of her way, she takes one step, gets down in Evangeline's face. Apparently having learned her lesson about tone, Ily doesn't growl so much as rumble, worried, alarmed. « No? » She orders, glancing back at Cita like her rider might like to translate this, as Ily wraps a gentle paw around her egg and takes it away for Evi, if she doesn't move to follow. "She's not going to hurt it, Ily." Cita doesn't-chide, groggy, already stepping down from her platform to pull Evangeline into a loose grasp; one designed to pull her away from the egg, and away from the sands as a whole, if she doesn't resist. "Evangeline. Slow breaths. Ily, what…" Maybe she should have stayed awake, says Cita's face, as she shoots an alarmed glance at the entrance. "Faranth's sake. I'll deal with you later." Back to Evangeline: "C'mon. Back to the barracks. You're alright."

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