Gold Leirith's and Bronze Garouth's Eggs

Seldom What It Seems Egg
This egg is not terribly remarkable in size, or shape. Unassuming. Moderate. A simple ovoid, it rests comfy-cozy upon the sands. It’s the color of this egg that seems to make it most unique. The smooth, silky shell seems to change depending upon the angle one looks at it. A rosy-silver hue from this direction, a powdery-blue from that. As though it could not settle on which it may want to be, and so somehow, impossibly, it has become both at once. A twist of the head, or a squint of the eye, and the color appears to shift once again. Not a purple or lavender, as there is no mixing of the two. Each is distinct in its moment of clarity, only to vanish and change in the next look. Pink in the pale light, blue in the deeper shadows, and a silver mist that seems to swirl and sparkle over the whole of it that does well to make discernment of its true hue a challenge at best.

Egg of Brown Egg
Swamp-mud brown is daubed across the sides of this egg in a roughly textured pattern. It’s hardly striking, instead a lurking presence on the sands that might easily be overlooked and become a (tripping) hazard for the unwary. The near-conical top of the egg bears a paler thatch, streaked in cross-hatched patterns of musty straw and dingy hay that do little to brighten its overall appearance. A few splotches of mud-brown scatter here as well, and against the yellowed background their patterning becomes more clear - a sense of feathers, quills and fluff in their complicated and subtle shapes tracing all the way down to the egg’s base. There, hidden against the sand, is… nothing to worry about, surely. It’s just an egg, right? …right.

An Egg Only A Mother Could Love Egg
There is nothing particularly striking about this egg — except, perhaps, its remarkable ability to be completely unremarkable. In fact, it's rather ugly and plain when compared to its cohabitants, whose shells are made of vibrant shades and alluring patterns meant to captivate and lure the attention. This ovoid is a sickly pale grey, the only discernible pattern on its matte surface a flurry of fine white veins that lend an appearance of feathers. It’s not even properly oval, this ugly little thing, and it sits disproportionately larger than its siblings.

Beauty Lies Within Egg
Gold-yellow contrasts almost violently with earthy tones of brown, pulled up in loose ruches defined at their centers by honey-colored roses. White-greys sweep in shimmering bands of scroll, curling around metallic flecks of reflective silver that strike through color. A band of royal blue curls around the crown of this ovoid, out of place and somehow remarkably ugly, the egg appearing almost ruined along the edges of it and in every disruptive smear of brown that interrupts an otherwise beautiful pattern.

Hallowed Legends Egg
Figures and shapes press in mottled Rorschach blots across the rough, tanned surface of this egg, a miasma of markings begging personal interpretation. That circle there might be a stone, or a moon, that sharp streak a stick or the broken remnants of a tree, that long wisp of barely-there black the trailing edge of cloak or cloud. Figures rise tall amidst the mire of implied age and wear, some spectral and bent, others proud and strong, others small and curved in imitation of youth. They come and go across the egg's shell, perhaps attempting to capture a story, some long-forgotten narrative of life and death, glory and humility, if only one could find a definitive beginning, a positive end. It moves instead in skips and beats, forcing its viewer to draw their own conclusions, to make what meaning from its cautionary tale that it might.

Steadfast Satellite Egg
Plain, but seeming to shine in any hint of light, this egg holds its own against its siblings. Brilliant silver and dappled with darker ash all over, it is quite intricately speckled on close inspection. From the distance, however, the eye seems to naturally trace patterns in the ashy smudges — a runner, a face, or just circles in circles, depending on your viewpoint. It seems to have its own gravity, this slightly too-round egg, drawing the eye and attention. It's just as easily dismissed, however, a bright but otherwise plain egg, not flashy or very large, after all. In fact, it's quite small, though not abnormally so. From most angles, this smallish, roundish egg is simple and silver, but from the corner of the eye, it sometimes looks a little different. Those smudges form something else entirely, occasionally, strange and fleeting.

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