Zaislinth's Clutching, July 13, 2003

Galleries and Ledges

Immensity yawns in this cavern, the space vast in every dimension. Rough walls of natural basalt with the odd intrusion of harsh granite rise up from a carefully leveled floor, arching up into immeasurable darkness that can never be fully banished. Yet, the attempt is sometimes made, with firelizards and the smallest of the green dragons depositing glows on a thousand little ledges until the effect resembles a starlit sky. At ground level, big permanent torches have been built, designed by clever smiths to burn for hours if enough fuel is provided. On those occasions when there is something happening in here, those torches are lit and their bright illumination can be almost as powerful as daylight. Sand covers the floor of the cavern, a wide sweep of sand that is deep enough to bury the largest dragon egg twice over. That sand, however, is unique: a mixture of red and white grains that combine to form a distinctive shade of pink.

There are two obvious exits. The first is the dragon sized tunnel that leads due north, long and gently curved so that the outside is not visible from within. That tunnel is large enough for dragons to fly through, although none but greens could do it abreast. The other exit is the steps that have been built against the wall, leading up to the galleries and ledges where spectators can watch.

From the Sands, Alhenaeth croons to his beloved.

From the Sands, Zaislinth moves in slowly, determinedly.

From the Sands, Alhenaeth looks over to Zaislinth, his eyes whirling slowly. « It is close? »

From the Sands, Zaislinth croons softly as she circles the sand, whirling eyes taking it in as she paws at the smoothed sand. «Yes, very much so..»

From the Sands, Alhenaeth croons gently, his strength for her as he sits on a nearby ledge, watching over here and the sands.

From the Sands, Alhenaeth rumbles.

From the Sands, Zaislinth takes another circle, then pauses to paw a bit more at the sand, the muscles in her sides bunching, rolling. Whirling eyes are turned upwards to the bronze, his rumble answered with the softest of croons. «It is time.»

From the Sands, Alhenaeth rumbles again and croons, his eyes whirling a bit faster. « It is time. » He turns his attention to the galerries, then sits up, watching over his beloved and her sands.

Shigure squwaks at Draca and sits on Niva's shoulder.

Niva was planning on enjoying the peace and quiet of the galleries. Afterall, who in their right mind is just going to wander in when there isn't a clutch on the sands? Unfortunately for Niva, it seems, her shot at peace and quiet has evaporated as the bronze and gold pair appear on the sands, causing the Healer to mutter under her breath, even as she absently pats the gold firelizard's head as she lands.

From the Sands, Evening is falling outside, the fog rolling in over the weyr when the gold decides that it's time. Circling and pawing at the neat smooth order the sand was raked into, she chooses to wait for a short time before calling her lifemate. Lucky for Jezzara. With another long croon to the bronze while muscles tense and bunch from a contraction, Zaislinth prepares a nice deep divet in the sand… and only then, does she finally let Jezzara in on that the evening's plans have changed.

From the Sands, Alhenaeth just croons to his Gold and watches over them. C'ian on the other hand rushes in and stands next to Jezzara. "It's time, huh?" He looks up at his Bronzer, having a silent conversation with him, smiling all the while.

The entrance of a gold firelizard brings the arrival of another person; yet, this one isn't a resident of Xanadu, but from the High Reaches. "Sharding firelizard, always getting away from me and being a pest," comes the articulate mutterings of Vatyri, who strides in with grasping fingers for Riaiy. "Get - back - here - now, Ria!" A look onto the sands — an accident, really — shows the gold and bronze pair, and the beginning of a clutching. "Oh shards. Moody dragons. Let's get out of here, Ria!" Riaiy just perches on the railing and croons; stupid firelizard.

From the Sands, Scrambling in still pulling on a slipper, Jezzara grumbles at the gold, "Couldn't decide to do this at a normal time? Like sometime in the morning, after a good night's sleep?" And yet, she's smiling as she pads across the sands towards the gold, dodging the holes she's already made to reach up for the crooning muzzle that dips down to her. Laying her cheek on the golden hide, she nuzzles Zaislinth, her hands reaching up for the gold's favorite scritching spot, whispering softly to her. Pulling back, she smiles, "You shall do fine, my love… I am here…" Concerned eyes travel over the bulging belly of the small gold, obvious a little worried before she looks to the sidelines and sees C'ian there. Nodding her head, she moves towards him with a final scritch to the gold as Zaislinth get's fidgety once more. "Yes.. it seems it is. " She runs her hands through damp hair, straightening the clothing she's wearing - seems someone wasn't quite out of the bath when they got the news.

From the Sands, C'ian just chuckles at Jezz as he watches Zaislinth. "She's going to do great." He looks up at his own dragon and shakes his head. "This is your fault, you big lug." Alhenaeth snorts. «Cannot help it that I'm a good flier and that she is a good catch.» But that's about all the Bronzer says. Caspian pats Jezzara on the back. "Caught me by surprise too. And I was.. uh.. busy. …. Working."

Niva continues to idly pet the gold that has settled on her shoulder, the appearance of other people causing her to mutter even more. Bad enough that she got dragged down here for some unknown reason, but to have her planned hideaway invaded, and all those people, its just.. "Arg…." The Healer complains as she looks around. "Why? Just… why?" And she sinks lower where she sits in the middle of the galleries.

Shigure buts her head into Niva's cheek crooning loudly.

Kysli wanders into the gallery, humming slightly to herself and overall looking somewhat on the cheerful side. She walks towards the front of the seats, getting close to the sands and leaning over the railing a bit.

Jutin stalks in, though is almost quickly given away by both Warlin and Amarak, giving cheerful chirps to the gold. Smileing, Jutin stuffs a meatroll into both thier mouths to let him have a few moments of peace and quiet before he takes a seat in the gallery.

Niva turns her head to peer at Shigure, shaking it slightly with a soft sigh as she continues to pet it's head, eyes shifting over the others as they arrive although her mouth stays shut. She's not about to greet anyone. Probably better that way anyway.

From the Sands, Zaislinth digs the hole a bit deeper, golden hide still marked by rippling waves that beat out a near steady tempo. The time has come for the first egg to be laid upon the sands. Turning, another waving of contractions hit, these harder, longer, and when they end, an egg lies within the safety of the warm sand nest she has dug.

"Get back here, you sharding 'lizard!" comes Vatyri's annoyed statement before the girl proclaims, in a lower voice "I should have fed you to that nasty dragon. Then you wouldn't be a pain." Mutter, mutter. Moving towards the rail in an attempt to reach out and snag the runaway gold Riaiy, the girl stumbles and falls right into a seat. "No, no, no. I want to go back to where it's cold. Like the 'Reaches. That transport dragon's probably gone by now, so I'm stranded." A narrowed look is sent towards the smug firelizard, who chirps at Shigure and stretches her neck out to watch the festivities of the sands. Meanwhile, Vatyri glowers.

City Rhapsody Egg
Whirling purples and blues subtly shift in shade and hue as they twist about the shell of this egg. What may be figures of people or great whizzing machines are all terribly blurred into abstract chaos. As the eye trails from apex to base, the colors lighten from black to lilac then back. Sudden splashes of gray or teal meld effortlessly into the cacophony of the ovoid's surface. Only one shade stands untouched amidst the busy bustle of the shell's background. A crimson streak seems to half silhouette a black form slipping past a pyramid of light. A street lamp perhaps?

From the Sands, Alhenaeth leans his head down and wuffles the new egg and croons proudly, standing back up straight and almost.. beams? Silly Dragon. Caspian grins and claps his hands. "There's one!"

From the Sands, Jezzara stands at the sidelines, and as Zaislinth shows increased signs of fidgeting, moves closer to C'ian, laughing at his words as she turns her green eyes upon him. "Work, hmm?" So that's what they're calling it these days? Yet, she leans in towards him, uncaring of the sand's heat, worrying her bottom lip until the moment the first egg is laid upon the sands. "It's started.."

Kysli is quite content to watch the clutching in silence as well, not even having bothered to look around and see who is in the galleries with her. Instead she just continues to lean on the railing, obviously not looking to sit.

From the Sands, Zaislinth is pleased with her work, and turns to inspect the egg herself, whirling eyes lifted to Alhenaeth before she moves off with intentions to seek another area play cradle to another egg after raking a light covering of sand over it. A short distance away, she pauses, golden hide rippling, a foreclaw raking deeply into the sand.

Matteo enters and looks to the two dragons below. He takes note of the crowd of others but gives it no more thought, more intrigued by what is taking place below him. His weathered hands are set upon the railing and he leans just a little, not fond or trusting of railings.

Vatyri takes a moment to fold her arms over her chest, looking a /little/ bit out of place with her thick, long sleeved tunic and a smug firelizard crooning and warbling to appearing eggs. "Yuck. Look at all that muck covering the egg - it needs a bath." Yes, Vatyri, but that would be the way that clutchings are - the eggs are laid, covered with gook (hopefully) and they dry out. She eyes people entering the galleries, either landing by dragonwing or arriving by foot, and then eyes the seats next to her. They had better stay clear.

Niva finishes her muttering as an egg actually appears, the Healer sitting up a bit straighter as she peers down to see what's going on. Gaze sweeps over the egg, the two dragons, and then their human counterparts, one hand still idly scritching Shigure's head.

From the Sands, "It's a pretty one.." Jezzara says from what she can see before the gold covers the egg and moves on to prepare another spot. Still, she worries, her gaze constantly following her lifemate, her arms crossing before her.

From the Sands, C'ian looks over to Jezzara, placing a hand on her back. "Hey, are you okay dear? She'll do fine," he says with a smile. "She got through the first one perfectly fine."

From the Sands, Zaislinth scoops up the sand to form a perfect little nest for the next egg, and not a moment to soon it would seem. With another ripple of her sides, she turns and deposits another egg to lie in the warm sands with a low croon.

Riveting Celtic Reel Egg
Rotund at the center, this egg tapers out at either end to the traditional shape. The base glows mossy green, verigated with a cat's eyes that seem in motion, blinking at the viewer in patterns of paler green; not unlike intricately woven thread. Here and there a silvery strand weaves through the moss. Overall, the patterning and coloring of this egg creates a soothing image, sporadically splashed with darker green marks not unlike lush foliage.

Robyn sits on Jaketh's foot to watch after waving to anyone she recognizes.

Looking on as the egg hits the ground, Jutin quickly pulls out another bit of meatroll and shoves it in the singing mouths of Warlin and Amarak…his sanity is worth more then them singing. "Hush down you two, and chew your meatroll."

Niva scowls slightly at the sands, sinking a bit lower as she does so, even as it causes her to miss the appearance of the second egg. Glancing over her shoulder as she does to, keeping an idea on those that continue to come in, perhaps bobbing her head but more likely then not she simply glares, attention drifting from occupant to occupant.

From the Sands, Jezzara sighs, "I know.. but last time, she wasn't so big.." She worries about her lifemate, for she is one of the smaller golds on Pern, and so many eggs can be stressful for her to carry. Still, she watches her lifemate, a smile spreading as another egg hits the sand to be covered by it's dam. "Ooh.. another!" She might be worried, but she's starting to feel the excitement. Looking to C'ian, she cannot help but ask teasingly, "Care to bet how many?"

Jaketh watches with great interest, large eyes whirling lazily in sparkling blues and greens.

From the Sands, C'ian chuckles softly and considers this. He looks over to Jezzara and grins. "A bet you say? Sure, I can place a bet with you on the number. But, what do I get if I win?" He looks at Zaislinth and then to Alhenaeth. "I'm going to guess 9."

Matteo glances about as the amount of observers grows. He now, as the second egg has arrived, takes time to look around at them all.

Kysli glances over her shoulder once and notices Niva who doesn't seem to be in a very good mood. She almost seems tempted to walk over to the other woman but obviously decides against it. Instead she continues to watch the gold and eggs.

Riaiy obviously feels the need to flirt with danger; hopping closer to Vatyri, the little gold firelizard keeps her eyes trained on the scene of appearing eggs. Meanwhile, the said girl is glaring at the firelizard, still muttering things about "Chewtoys for the canines," and "Fodder for the herdbeasts," at random intervals. However, her mood towards the eggs lightens up, and Tyri leans forward in her seat, straining to see just what color the shells are — since, you know, sand has a tendancy to stick to wet things.

From the Sands, Zaislinth doesn't pay much mind to the talks of bets between the lifemates on the sidelines. She's already off to find yet another place in the sand to make a home for another egg. They're coming fast right now, no time to worry or think, only time to dig another hole before time runs out, and another is laid. A low warble is given to the bronze, and as she moves away, yet another egg is left behind in it's warm nest.

Groovy Mambo Egg
Sensual swirls of red mingle with a vibrant orange, a rich terra cotta pattern dancing over the surface of this egg. Spontaneous splashes of earthy brown appear over the eggshell, curving and extending to lazily combine with the sandy splotches that surface here and there. Cream darts around the egg in a quick beat, hiccupping now and then before returning to its normal pattern. The colors flow together without missing a beat, slipping from one into the next without pause; the motion is fluid as it moves from step to step. Splotches of black careen violently over the rich backdrop, wild acrobatics performed over the shell.

Jaketh musses her rider's hair and rumbles softly. Robyn smiles at the green dragon messing up her hair, "Yes, you came from an egg that size. You grew a lot since then."

Niva is paying enough attention to the various people there, at least the ones that she knows, to spot Kysli turning back around and she sighs slightly, shaking her head. A roll of her eyes as she carefully pushes herself to her feet, care taken to not disturb Shigure from the gold's shoulder perch, weaving her way down to the front. A muttered 'Hello' is offered to various people before she reaches the railing and she peers over it, silently mulling as a third egg appears.

Kysli gives Niva a slight smile, or manages to though it seems to take a little work despite her somewhat cheerfulness as she looks at the eggs.

From the Sands, Jezzara tilts her head, "How about… if you win, I'll take over your duties for 3 days… and if I win, the same?" A chance to sleep late? To enjoy a peaceful soak in the pool without being called to answer some report? Sounds good to her, though she's more than willing to listen to any other ideas. "For me I say…" She looks closely at Zaislinth, then at the eggs already laid, then replies, "I say 14." Grinning even more, she wonders if she should even ask if he wishes to include the side bet of there being a gold?

There's a slight moment where there's a lapse in mutterings and whispered curses, before Vatyri asks, "Is there a rider willing to take me back to the 'Reaches after this? I'm stranded." Well, that much is true, for why would a 'Reachian girl be here anyways, if it weren't for a pesky firelizard who demands to be listened to. "That egg is - well, odd," Vatyri says in an undertone, waving a hand idly in the direction of the newly laid egg. "It looks like it can't find one color to stick to."

From the Sands, C'ian strokes his chin and considers this, looking at her. "Alright! I'll take you up on that bet. Shards, everyone knows I sure could use some time off from the job." He cackles. "I'm so going to win this bet." He grins seeing more eggs and beams over to his Bronze.

From the Sands, Zaislinth gives the egg a curious sniff, then a scoop of sand to hide it nearly all the way except for the top section. Yet, there is no time for idleness, and the gold moves off again to scout a new location for the next egg, often pausing in her movements as she digs another hole. With a loud warble, the gold's head dropping, the next egg is planted safely in it's warm coccoon of sand.

Quietly Suffered Sanity Egg
This long egg is marked by a variety of colors changing hue and images that seem organized in wide rings which section the egg into five main base hues. Amber, violet, white, foggy blue, and midnight blue blend from top to bottom, respectively. But all is not simple, for wild flames lick the crest, raging red, orange, yellow and even touches of hot blue. Below the flames amber grain fields loop the egg, waving underneath the breeze that allows the fire to rage above. The amber fades into a violet haze with patterns resembling eyes of china blue that seem to watch and follow the viewer as they pass. On the other side of the egg are sets of halls, their walls lined with empty portraits; but frameless between portraits are heads, their faces familiar as strangers. Beneath the hall and eyes, the haze fades into pristine white as chilling as it is perfect… but for the thorned, silver-stem rose, which lies crushed and broken, petals bloody on the virgin snow. The final quarter of the egg fades from white into shadowed blue and gray hills dotted by tiny pine trees and miniscule daffodils. Among the shadows is a distorted figure with a large head and tiny body - a hunched, ragged man in ragged clothes, weathered face lined in pain. This section in turn fades into midnight blue, stars twinkling across the base, seen whenever the egg is overturned.

Niva glances over at Kysli out of the corner of her eye inbetween egg appearances, a smile forced across her face and then she's staring back at the sands, fingers tapping idly against the railing.

From the Sands, Jezzara grins, then holds out her hand to C'ian, "Deal…" She's already thinking of those blessedly work-free days herself, so lost in thought, she's surprised to notice another egg has been laid. That's one more closer to her total right?

From the Sands, Zaislinth barely scoops a covering of sand across the newest addition to the sands before she's off again, scooping up a neighboring nest, and withouth further applause, lays another egg.

Expressively Simple Blues Egg
Emerging from a focal point of darkest midnight shades of navy, lilac, and sky cloud over the shell in simple thick clouds over this larger-than-normal egg. The scattering clouds shatter into a variety of simple curving forms floating over and around each other in a smooth colourful montage. Thick, smooth brushstrokes of electric blue outline curves with bright emphasis, snaking over the shadows with improvised style.

From the Sands, Alhenaeth rumbles and starts snorting at the people in the gallery. Hey, These are Zaislinth's and his eggs! Not theirs! As if a protective father, he leans down and nuzzles sand over some of the already laid eggs, especially the new one, crooning to Zaislinth.

From the Sands, Jezzara glances towards the galleries, her gaze searching the crowd for a moment before turning back to C'ian, "There's… a lot of people up there.." Somehow, usually the gold ends up laying in the dead of night, so not many are tempted to crawl from their nice warm beds to watch the clutching.

From the Sands, C'ian looks up at the galleries. "Yeah, there are. Alhenaeth's getting uppidty with it, but he'll just have to deal with it. I know at least a few people who could be up right now.."

Niva wrinkles up her nose as the bronze snorts, shaking her head as she shifts, resting her arms on the railing, and her chin on her arms. She had no real say in being dragged from her bed. But, that's a slightly different story now, isn't it?

From the Sands, Zaislinth turns to cover the egg, and finds the bronze has already done so. Giving him a low rumbling croon, she turns away to pace, heading back down the 'row' of eggs to where it began, another divet raked aside, another tensing of muscles that signal the coming of an egg. Or at least you think so. There is a moment that one wonders before the egg does indeed arrive.

Floating Drum Egg
Large in size and flattened on either end, this egg always appaears to be upside down in the sand, both apex and bottom dented. It looks rather flat on top. A tawny hue runs along the part furthest from the sand, pulling down in little runnels along the sides of the egg. Dominating the egg's color is a darker hue, the shade of the earth with a touch of reddish clay. Cords of shimmering bronze trace down from top to bottom, crossing in a very broad hatch, liike the bands that hold a drum's top on. The bottom of the egg gives the illusion of waves of water lapping to shore; tiny golden flecks are seen throughout the blue waves, not unlike lighthouses showing the way to safe harbors.

From the Sands, Alhenaeth croons in delight at the appearance of another egg and daintly pads over, like a dragon dancer and stands next to the new egg, using his tail to cover it with sand. Happy eggs! Happy bronze dragon.

Jutin gives a huff, knowing that there hours in the night normally only belong to the cunning apprentices with plans, and that gold dragon is only interrupting. "Hmm…need to get back to the radio catapult…nice break here."

From the Sands, Jezzara holds back a quiet bit of laughter, yet cannot help but tease the bronzer with a nudge from her shoulder as she glances to him. "A certain two who were helping you… work?" A flash of a grin, and she steps forwards, as if to dodge any attack that might come her way.

From the Sands, C'ian just stays there, shocked, jaw open. "You have no idea." He just makes a face and nudges her with a fist and folds his arms.

"That blue one was nice-looking; it wasn't nearly so confusing as that one that had /way/ too many colors on it," Vatyri comments - surprisingly, the girl who usually shows fatigue is unusually alert, staring down at the sands with an intense attitude. "I wonder if that gold's keen on eating people." A question worthy of most people, really.

From the Sands, Zaislinth is already pawing at the sand, leaving the chore of covering the eggs to the bronze. Whirling eyes flash in the lights around the cavern, gleaming off her golden hide as she moves with surprising gracefulness. A warble accompanies the next, tail half hiding it away before she moves.

Underground Trance Egg
This colorful ovoid seems alive with beat and dance. Brilliant yellows and oranges blend unceremoniously at the peak of the egg; the strong hues are chased by darker blues and blacks, offering the appearance of gazing down on a scene from afar. Following the expanding curvature of the egg, the shading changes to more greens and blues that clash violently against the darker outlines. Bold against the colors, several shadowy figures seem to appear, entwined yet independent, their bodies clashing to a unified beat. Towards the bottom of the egg, the scene fades to darkness with only glimmers of the dazzling tints shining through.

Matteo looks a bit alarmed at the protective Bronze and readjusts his position at the railing. He looks down and watches as the dragon rejoices in another egg however and can't help but smile ever so slightly. He looks up at the words of another. He'd never heard of dragons eating people from his brother and strangly wasn't phased by that statement. He does however, yawn a little. The sleeping herb he took earlier was kicking in. Must stay awake.

From the Sands, Jezzara breaks out in giggles at his words, green eyes flashing with humor as she turns and winks at him, "No, can't say that I would.. I have enough trouble with one guy, much less trying to keep two around." She moves back towards him, nudging him again to show she's teasing him about it, all the while keeping a close eye on the gold for signs of tiring.

From the Sands, Alhenaeth all to happily covers the next egg on the sands, like a loving father and croons happily to himself. But his mood quickly turns sour as he snorts and rumbles at the galleries again. Didn't they get it? They're his and Zaislinth's eggs!

From the Sands, Zaislinth misses hardly a beat, not giving the people in the galleries a second look, her mind too occupied with where to dig the next nest. Hmm. Right here will be fine. Leaving crowd control to the bronze too it would seem, she turns, sides tensing for a moment before yet another egg falls to grace the sands.

Sweet Harmonious Sonata Egg
Pale cream and rich mahogany intertwine in a rippling harmony of liquid hues forming the shell, dusted by speckles of antique off-white. For the crown and foot of this rounded egg, the darker reddish brown dominates, strengthening the shell with a darkness to contrast with the bronze-tinged ivory and cream of the midsection. Dividing the sections is a thin crimson ribbon, smoothly curling between the contrasts with sweet grace.

Vatyri gives a little suspicious action - to some nearby, it would appear that Vatyri is giving a little finger shaking at the protective bronze, though to others farther away, it would seem that Vatyri's keeping a little count going. "How many has that been? I'll take bets on colors!" And she will, as she finally has the marks in her pocket to be able to pay up should fate be that she loses.

From the Sands, Alhenaeth scoops scoops and covers covers. He's up with Zaislinth's speed and continues to cover them just as fast as they pop out of her.

From the Sands, "That's… number eight.." Jezzara replies with a grin, as if changing the topic of their former conversation. If there's only one more, then C'ian wins their little bet. Surely, the gold is hiding more than that in those slightly bulging sides?

From the Sands, Zaislinth doesn't even move much, for it seems the next egg is coming so fast that it will end up laid within the same nest to share the sand's heat with the previous one, to be tucked away in a covering of sand by the bronze.

Fiddler's Solo Egg
Although the image is skewed around this rotund egg and then only seen from the front, a musician would recognize that the largest pattern upon this egg resembles a fiddle, with a set of white strings running across rich mahogany, which toward the top of the egg becomes a rectangle of black fading into sepia down the far side of the string. Then, around the egg, the sepia fades into rich vermillion, patterned as though a velvety cushion. When the cushion curls around the back of the egg, it reaches the distinctive instrument edge. Between the edge and the strings is a swirl of black, stretching mid-egg to the base of the egg, where it fades into the dark sepia tones.

Kysli isn't up for attempting to be all that friendly at the moment it seems, rather sad. Not that it really matters that much as Niva doesn't seem to be all that easy to get along with at the moment.

From the Sands, Alhenaeth croons and continues his work. Caspian, on the other hand grins. "That makes nine! If she stops here, I'm good for days!"

From the Sands, Jezzara grins, "If she stops.." And from the way the gold paces off to find another spot, she doesn't really think that will be the case.

Matteo feels himself start to nod off untill another egg drops. Shaking himself awake again he inspects the next egg before the sand is covered over it by the father. He'd lost count a while ago… Back at three, and wasn't up for counting at the moment. More intent on keeping awake. He pulls himself up to sit on the railing, crosslegged, and sure enough he's awake in a second. Never fails.

From the Sands, Zaislinth's are slow, her tail not held quite so far off the ground, her head drooping a little as she lowers it to the sand, a whuffling breath blown against it as she checks out the next area. It will. It will have too as there is barely time to scratch a grove in the sand before the next egg appears.

Circle of Eighths Egg
With a base shade of cream, this average-sized egg is colored dark cream at the bottom. From that dark shade stem eight different colored-stripes: red, gold, green-bronze, light pine green, sky blue, royal blue, indigo, and violet. Toward the middle of the egg they begin to curve right and widen - and then the chaos begins. Each color twists and twines into impossible patterns, all contained in a circle of that same color, though all circles overlap a quarter of the next to the left. Several inches from the apex of the egg, the circles end and eight thin stripes meet, widening into bells which touch and become an ugly brass blob at the exact top of the egg.

Vatyri is quite tempted to throw something at Matteo to make sure he stays awake; thus she does, picking up a rock and chucking it (lightly of course) at Matteo's back. Alas, though, Vatyri's aim is often off-kilter and there's no guarantee that it will actually hit him at all. Though, having an awake Matteo is better than having one snoring away in the galleries.

From the Sands, Jezzara cackles, "And that's ten.." Oops? Giggling, she offers, "Shall we see who's closet to win?" She offers him lightly before she frowns and steps forwards towards the gold as she grows tired. A hand is pressed against her side, fingers trailing over the golden hide as Zaislinth rests near the last egg. "My heart.. you must continue.." Nodding at a silent comment, she smiles, "I know.."

Jaketh snorts at a rock flying by? She gives a slow blink and cocks her head at Vatyri questioningly.

From the Sands, Zaislinth rests for several moments, her sides heaving, and yet in time, a forclaw reaches out to scoop out a divet of sand, her movements slow as she turns to present another egg with it's newest home.

Dramatic Musical Egg
Oval and smooth are not the confines of this dramatic egg. Normal is nothing close to what this egg is. Narrow and curvy is the best way to describe it, have dramatic bumps in the shell that just drop off, like layers of paint were layered up too thickly. The base coat to this egg is a very neutral brown, though bright, nearly neon streaks of green, orange, red, pink, and nearly every color imaginable streak across the egg, as if an artist wasn't watching where their brush landed or went, the neutral brown underneath barely visible against the collage of bright, almost eye-sore colors.

"Ooph!" Matteo grunts as a rock hits him in the back. He turns about, not having even grabbed for the sides of the railing. he knows his balance. "Yes?"

Vatyri gives an innocent shrug to Jaketh before tilting her head towards Matteo. "You were falling asleep. I was helping you stay awake, and it worked, right?" Obviously, for he had said the 'right' word that lets throwees know if they've hit their target.

"Ooph!" Matteo grunts as a rock hits him in the back. He turns about, not having even grabbed for the sides of the railing. he knows his balance. "Yes?"

Kysli gives up on the leaning against the railing and sits down on the floor, letting her chin rest on the bottommost rail.

From the Sands, When Zaislinth moves, Jezzara steps out of the way, following the gold as she moves away from the last egg, leaving it to the bronze to cover with it's blanket of sand. A low weary croon issues from her as her head dips down to nuzzle against her lifemate. Is this the end? Jezzara nuzzles against the gold who lays there for a time, sides heaving with her breathes before she surges to her feet and moves again.

Jaketh wuffs in amusement and turns back to watch the egg laying.

Matteo arcs a brow momentarily but nods. He didn't even botehr explaining that a little altitude did the trick when he climbed up on the rail. He looks her over then goes back to watching, his expression untelling of his mood or opinion to any of that/

From the Sands, Zaislinth is not finished, it would seem, and getting to her feet, she moves to make one last hole, this one home to the final egg that is carefully covered by the gold herself when she turns about.

Racy Waltz Egg
Across a base of ancient, lacy ivory, bright canary promenades with creamy butter in a spinning play over the shell of this large egg. One would be hard pressed to find the beginning or the end of either strand; there seems to be no stop to the fluid motion of the colors, which are constantly changing direction, reversing, doubling back and then rolling to the side in a step-step-close motion. However, the light, bright pair is not alone; other pairs of strands join the weaving, gliding dance. Aureate topax and fiery citrine counter promenade, constantly shadowing and switching with the other pairs - rich vermillion with golden brass prominent near the zenith, soft amber with pale peach prominent near the base. The final pair of powery ginger and shimmering champagne moves across the shell in a wicked attempt to steal the spotlight from the pairs of more graceful, accented movements. In a final touch, gilded splashes sparkle here and there among the waltzing pairs, like light flashing off jeweled fire.

Vatyri tilts her head up to look at Matteo, and then looks at the sands, before flicking her gaze back to the original. "Is it easier to see what's going on from there?" she questions, arching an eyebrow and planting a hand on her chair to lift herself up if it proves that the view is much better from a seat.

From the Sands, Jezzara tries her best to get a look at the last egg before it's mostly covered by her lifemate, who then curls up near it, her head dropped to her forelegs, and wings drooping. Whirling eyes slow, gaining back the pleasant blues and greens of contentment as the gold croons to eggs and bronze alike. Laughing, Jezz approaches the gold, her fingers finding those itchy spots, her small form leaning lightly against her lifemate, "See, you did just fine… " As if there was ever a worry. Taking a moment to be sure her lifemate is ok, she steps away and turns towards the galleries where she smiles happily, "Total count is 12 eggs.. and I'm after this, that if anyone is hungry or thirsty, the kitchen staff has been busy in preparing for such. Please, help yourself in the caverns.."

Matteo looks back at the girl curiously. He tries to surpress an amused smile, but teh twinkle of his eye and the gentle lift of teh side of his mouth betrays him. Oh. He looks back to see the Weyrwoman speaking. Hmm, he could use with something to drink and maybe some more of taht herb before he goes to sleep. Or well, so he can go to sleep.

"What? It's over? But that didn't take long at all!" Welcome to the real world, Vatyri, where it isn't the longest thing that Pern can stretch out. Stretching her arms and legs, the 'Reachian resident clambers to her feet, simutanously seizing the now wildly chirping Riaiy. "Now, shut up, you sharding thing." The invitation of the caverns is too good to pass up, and that's exactly where Tyri's feet are taking her - to the caverns!

Matteo hops down off his perch and stalks on back to the caverns. He's still wide awake now and mildly wonders how his matabolism fairs at that unneed drugging.

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