Characters: Hassaleah (Mhiyath), J'em (Fenrith), Jeriah, Jule, Sorrin
From the Sands, This one time, Mhiyath seems to have selected a moderate hour of the day to lay her eggs--usually, she sneaks off in the dead of night, or some barbaric hour before breakfast. This time, the Reaches senior queen has very publicly hauled herself, swollen belly and all, onto the Sands in the middle of the afternoon. Also, inconveniently, right when Conclave was due to begin, perhaps the only reason she was willing to make this exception. Seeming exhausted from the trek, she's resting when her rider finally arrives, puffing out of breath.
When dragons move to clutch, news spreads like wildfire. Sorrin, having been out on duty watching the herds at the time, seems to have been excused by the stablemaster to watch the event along with a number of the other younger herder apprentices and stablehands. Somewhere among the middle group of earliest arrivals, the girl flops into a seat in one of the lower rows, dropping a slightly stinky carry-all bag beside her to save a spot for Jule. Of course, she has no clue if her friend will make it or not, but the bag wards off at least a few people from trying to sit next to her. 'Hey Sorrin!' Shouts a boy from behind, knocking her on the head. 'I betcha the first one will be a -big- egg. We're taking wagers, you want in?' "No thanks, I've got better things to waste my marks on." She rolls her eyes and leans forward over her legs to get a better view.
J'em perhaps got fair warning this time, as he heads up into the galleries, his bronze upon the sands, eyes intent upon his golden mate.
From the Sands, Once Hassaleah is there, Mhiyath stirs, beginning to shift sand about for her impending brood--a bit of digging, then some sweeping with her tail, and she has a slight mound of hot sand. She wastes no time, once the place is ready; with a fanning of wings, she shuffles herself over to the mound, turning and lifting her tail. Letting out a strained sigh, she deposits the first egg, then turns back to nose at it and carefully roll the soft ovoid into its intended place.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Concealing Foliage Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Muddy brown and sunlit greens and yellows dapple the shell of this smaller egg the way they do the forests outside the Weyr; though without specific shape or form, the play of colors still suggests scattered leaves and rough tree bark. There is a surprising regularity to the pattern, however, repetition of certain contours visible upon inspection as though man-made, as impossible as that obviously is. Aside from the sheen the cavern lights create on its surface, the colors are so uniformly bright and the curve of shell so evenly round that one viewpoint is identical to the next. Within, something may stir, but on the exterior there is naught but woodland's serenity.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Hah! Pay up!' The boy demands, although he shushes himself and carries out his continued betting in a quieter voice once the Weyrleader arrives. "Oh hush up, will you?" Sorrin waves a hand up at them and nearly misses getting to see the first egg. 'A thirty-second mark on the next one being bigger than that one, but not huge.' Another boy pipes in as more herder marks are exchanged.
J'em chuckles quietly at the boys' betting and just shakes his head, but he turns back to the sands in time to spot the first egg being laid and nods approvingly. The weyrleader is quiet, though, as he watches the golden Mhiyath upon the sands.
From the Sands, Fenrith stays out of the way of his mate as she goes about the business of egg-laying, rumbling quietly every now and again, the bronze standing tall and proud as the eggs are deposited one by one.
Jule hurries into the gallery, a mug of klah clutched in her plump hand. She pauses momentarily to peer around as if looking for someone, but her attention quickly drifts towards teh sands, stepp a few paces deeper in to get a view of what's going on before once more looking over the people.
Sorrin raises a hand in an attempt to draw Jule's attention in the lull between egg arrivals. The stinky carry-all bag is quickly shoved away underneath the bench where it's smell won't offend anyone. She doesn't yell out for her friend, not wanting to draw attention away from the clutching.
From the Sands, The first egg out of the way, Mhiyath sits back for a few minutes to recover with heavy breaths. Hassaleah leans against her, murmurs comforts and reassurances unaudible to the galleries, but the gentle strokes on the neck are universally understood. Before long, the queen is moving back to the first egg, carefully inspecting it once more, and then turning to add a second.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wings upon a Long Journey Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Lacking prepossessing size, neither large nor small, this egg is as best described as average. But such a label might only be applied to its size, for visually, it's a riot of color and far from average. Shades of blue dominate the base coloration of this egg; sapphire and sky wash over the bulge of the shell, staining it in cerulean hues. Wisps of silvery puffs, like vapid cloudscapes, lie scattered across the shell at infrequent intervals, creating a picturesque background for the dark mass of shadows that crowd along the shell of the egg. Dark obscure silhouettes of distant winged forms -- wherries perhaps for the shape is distinctly avian rather than draconic -- flock in a loose-knit clump, pointed forwards as if upon some long journey; a few stragglers trailing off towards the far end of the egg.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jule spots Sorrin waving and waves a plump hand back before making her way up to where her friend is seated. Managing to not spill her klah, she settles next to the stablehand. Reaching up, she gives Lupis's neck a gentle scratch and mutters low to the little firelizard "You stay here." Grasping the tiny head gently as she speaks, she makes sure the green understandsbefore turning her attention around, waving to the Weyrleader when she sees him, then others among the crowd. Peering back to Sorrin with a grateful smile "Thanks for saving me a seat. I was busy with duties in the infirmary. Looks like I didn't miss much though." This comes just as a second egg is laid drawing her attention back to the queen working on the sands.
Jeriah doesn't come running, but she's gliding rather hurridly just the same. Grinning from ear to ear, she waves to Fenrith. Just about bursting with pride for the bronze, she heads straight for J'em. "Finally! I get to see one of these!" By 'these' she means a clutching that Fenny had something to do with.
"Just a little green one." Sorrin points out, trying to aim her finger towards where the first egg is, but it's partially obscured by the golden queen's body. 'Hah! Right again!' Chimes the boy behind her as the second egg finds it's way out onto the sands. Small marks change hands betwen the herder boys once more, before the one who seems to be on a roll claims with confidence, 'It'll be a largish one next. You'll see. Hey, healer!' He calls down to Jule, 'Do you want in on the betting? It's a thirty-second mark per egg to guess it's size.' Sorrin simply shakes her head again before leaning over to whisper to her friend, "Waste of marks, if you ask me. The first one looked greenish, but I couldn't get that good of a view of it." The stable-girl tosses a brief wave to Jeriah before her consentration ebbs back towards the sands.
J'em smiles as Jeriah enters the galleries. "Aye, and I'm sure it'll be a very nice clutch. you'll see. Fenrith is jus' as proud as kin be." And the weyrleader proceeds to examine the second egg, as best he can from his perch.
Jule grins as the eggs is laid, chuckling a bit. "Is it me, or does that one seem to bare the Weyr's colors rather proudly?" She refers to the blue and dark egg of coarse, peering around towards the loud boys placing bets with a hint of a frown "I don't have any marks to be wasting on bettering even if I was inclined to. You would do well save your marks on something more worthwhile." Le nods decisively and offers a wave to Jeriah when she spots the woman taking a seat by the Weyrleader. Peering back to the sands, she gazes at the part of the egg she can see that Sorrin points out, and lowers her vioce a bit 'Do you think now that Lady Hassaleah will be in a better mood?" she sips her klah, then frowns and sniffs at the mug with ehr nose wrinkling up "What /is/ that smell?"
From the Sands, After the second egg, Mhiyath seems much more comfortable, and she takes her time about settling it in place. That process takes some time, a nudge here and a sweeping of sand there, until it's arranged just right and she can turn her attention to adding the next egg to the clutch. Hassaleah remains off to the side, setting up her accustomed folding chair and sitting down for what may very well be a long haul.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Festival of Bounty Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Tucked in the middle of the clutch, nestled among its smaller siblings, this large egg sits bedecked in joyous colors. Orange, red, and yellow flow across the broad expanse of shell, busily twirling together like dancers in the Gather square, parting around a band of polished mahogany that encompasses the middle of the egg. Upon that platform are heaped a multitude of familiar shapes, circular white platters full of fluffy mashed tubers dripping with droplets of dark gravy, baskets of tan brush-strokes spilling spheres of crisp scarlet. Deep blue sky ascends the curve of the egg to twin pale circles, large and luminescent, the familiar harvest moons.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Uhhh..." Sorrin looks away, trying to change the subject all while giving her carry-all a good shove further down along the benches. "That second egg really does look as if it's sporting the weyr colors." She offers a not-so-subtle subject change. 'Oh shells and shards. We're just having a little fun. No need to get all stuck up healer.' The boy sticks his tongue out towards Jule before returning to his collection of marks. 'I win again!' The lad snickers as he collects his money from the others, who are now grumbling something about this all being unfair. It isn't as if the lad could know what sizes the eggs are in advance, but that doesn't stop the others from being upset for being out a few bits.
From the Sands, The newest egg is tended to with a soft nuzzling, Mhiyath pushing it off into the middle of the egg mound before piling sand around it. She turns back, then, to check on the others, ensuring that each is still carefully positioned before arranging herself to lay another egg. This one, for some reason, seems to come more difficulty, a series of grunts emerging from the gold's mouth before the fourth egg joins its siblings on the sands.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Glittering First Snowfall Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Crystalline glitter sprinkles the surface of this egg, brushes of white across a panorama view of colors. Soft browns and greens peek from beneath the light frosting of snow, a sliver of evergreen needle here and an ashen twig there, the underside of the egg swirled with sienna and ochre where the freeze has not yet touched. An accent of icy blue, cold and clean, runs under the glimmering frost, a field of pale not yet marred by the shadow of footsteps. With the first snow, the chill is not yet absolute, and in places, the white melts and runs into translucent pools, awaiting the approach of true winter.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jeriah giggles a little to her proud papa. "As well he should be. Oh I do like that one," she comments on the Wings upon a Long Journey egg. She muses after it a moment befor turning to see who all else has come to watch. A smile and wave are sent to Jule and Sorrin. Looking around, she misses the next couple of eggs being clutched.
Jule cast a slightly narrowed glance up to the weyrbrats ebfore shaking herhead and ignoring them. Let them waste their marks if they want. Peering back to Sorrin with an arched brow, she simply smirks as she isn't fooled by the not so subtle subject change. Nodding in agreement "And that one there.." she points out the latest egg "..remembles the weather round here perfectly." Her glances slips back to J'em and his daughter, a grin given to the pair before focusing once more on the queen and her rider down ont eh sands among the eggs.
'Hey, I didn't get a chance to bet on that one!' The boy protests, although a few of his companions manage a good laugh at his expense. 'The next one... the next one'll be... oh shards.' It seems that the distraction has broken the egg-guesser's concentration. 'I don't wanna bet anymore.' A few of the other boys protest this, as they have no chance to win back their marks. "I was just about to say that." Sorrin smirks, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Makes you wonder how an egg that looks so chilly can stand the warm sands, neh?"
From the Sands, With four already on the sands and it looking like Mhiyath's not nearly finished, Hassaleah is able to breathe a bit of a sigh of relief--she's had clutches poorer than this, certainly. Mhiyath takes no time to relax, though, now that she's in the swing of things; she situates the most recent egg and then lays the fifth nearby.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Striped Winter Squash Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, A dragon egg is rarely so oblong and oddly-shaped as this, ever so slightly swollen round the middle, though not so badly that one would consider it unhealthy. Cream and yellow compete for the bulk of the surface, pale milk blotching and blending with the saffron expanses. Dominating both, however, are the uneven lines which run lengthwise from end to end, mossy emerald mixed with iron-black. They encompass the egg like a tenuous cage, thin bars fading at the edges to mere speckles of olive.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jule grins to Sorrin "Maybe we can get it measured and make sure it doesn't melt any each day." She gives her friend a wink and then sips from her mug, gaze drifting back over the first few eggs before going back to the last one. "Is it me, or does its shape seem sorta....off?"
"It's a little bit pudgy." Sorrin nods her affirmation of the odd looking egg. She draws out a chubby figure in the air before giving a somewhat 'knowing' look towards her healer friend. "I'm not sure I like the dark stripes on that one, though. It reminds me of the cages they kept animals in back at the herder hall." 'Nothing wrong with keeping animals in cages.' Murmurers the herder boy from behind, still having his ear talked off by another lad. It seems they are prompting him to make at least one more guess so they can get their marks back. "If you say so." Sorrin shakes her head and tries to tune them out.
From the Sands, For all its odd shape and the fact that Hassaleah is now sitting forward with some concern in her chair, Mhiyath is as careful with her peculiar fifth egg as with the previous ones. Once it's settled into the sand, the Weyrwoman seems to resign herself to the fact, since the dam isn't worrying over it. The sixth joins its siblings shortly thereafter, this one far more usual in shape and color.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sun-touched Autumn Leaves Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Presented with a spectacle of pastoral peacefulness, a wealth of color weaves its way across the shell of this small egg. A band of glistening aquamarine trickles along the bottom most curve of the egg, scattered motes of white dusted across that band of blue so that in the shimmered heat of the sands, it almost appears to sparkle. The band of blue lends contrast to the swatches of green and tendrils of woody-brown that rise upwards towards the apex curve of the shell. Uniformly verdant, like low-lying shrubbery and bushy trees, it is only upon close inspection that the darker strokes of green outline the vague impression of individual leaves. And yet, here and there, the greenery is fading, giving way to warm autumn hues that dapple the leaves in glorious shades of sun-warmed goldenrod, rusty ocher and carmine.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jule cast a little smirk to Sorrin and shrugs "Nothin wrong with pudgy." lowerign her mug, she seems to look over the egg a bit more, nodding at the little bars "Intersting, considering that one day a little hatchling will be breaking through the bars." Le chuckles softly, casting a slightly reproachful look over her shoulder to the annoying boys betting then shaking her head and peering back to the sands for a time.
"Never said there was." The stable-girl gives a little playful wink before the next egg draws her attention away from teasing her friend. "That's six so far." She counts, squirming in her seat to try to see all of them amongst the sand being shifted and the large golden body occupying that area of sand. "How many eggs do dragons usually lay?" This is asked in a lowered voice as she leans towards Jule. Sometimes, it isn't fun not knowing the ins and outs of dragon kind when you live at a weyr.
From the Sands, After all this effort--six is as much as Mhiyath has ever managed--the gold checks each of the eggs in turn and then curls up next to the mound of sand to rest, looking vaguely gray and very tired. Still swollen, she can't afford to make that rest very long; soon, she's up again, adding the seventh to the collection.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harvest Gold Crabapple Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Nature's first green is gold, but at the last she becomes gold again, the unripened curve of nearly spherical fruit becoming honey and wheat in the summer's end. Most of the shell of this egg is a continuous melding of color, gold to yellow-green and back again, but one section of the lower hemisphere appears darkened, bruised. A stain spreads out from a single point, tainting the gold with overripe ochre, a perfect specimen fallen from the tree and left to turn. Though no larger than its fellows, this egg has earned itself a much higher status in the world--kept separate, on its own little mound of sand.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jule smiles to Sorrin and looks back to the sands. Thinking about her friend's question sne seems thoughtful "I think that fifteen is considered large clutch. But I'm not really sure. Sometimes the texts are not as accurate as you would like." Tilting her head and leaning a bit tryin to see the eggs better "Oh, that one looks interesting. And it seems that Mhiyath doesn't want that one near the other eggs for some reason..."
J'em gets a small, knowing, smile as the latest egg is situated in its rightful position. And y et he doesn't make a comment, merely smiles and watches as the bronze upon the sands gets a bit prouder, if that's at all possible.
Sorrin double checks her counting on the eggs already on the sands only to have one more added to the mix. She pauses and looks at Jule with a raised eyebrow. "Does that mean something?" Poor, poor girl. Most likely, by the end of the evening she'll be told enough times to make one sick exactly what it means. "Mhiyath looks tired, though. I don't think she's going to manage fifteen." This last part is said in a quieter voice, not wanting to offend any of the riders nearby.
Jeriah ooo's softly at each new arrival. Though a gasp comes when the Harvest Gold Crabapple makes her appearance on the scene. "Oh Da....Of all the clutching I've attented, neverr have I seen such beautiful eggs as the ones that Fenrrith makes with Mhiyath!" Then she giggles a little at herself, hearing hiw gushy and rediculas her statment is.
Jule peers at the secluded egg, and glances around the gallery, noticing J'em stance and then peers to the dragons, the bronze looking someone more prouder than a few moments ago. Lowering her vioce to Sorrin "I think perhaps, I am probably wrong though, that may be a queenling egg."
"Oh." The emphasis placed on the isolated egg seems to escape Sorrin even when it's explained. Then, with the slow dawning comprehension of time, she chuckles, "Oh! I understand now. That explains why J'em and Fenrith look so proud of themselves." The girl snickers, hiding her laugh behind one hand. There is some squabbling behind the two girls as the boys seem to be making some rukus of what this arrival means to their betting. The lad who won the first few bets, though, has snuck away to avoid being cornered by his friends about his good luck.
From the Sands, Mhiyath's eye turns to this new addition with an almost perplexed look, nosing at it a bit before she elects to give it a special place on the higher part of the mound. Hassaleah's just smiling serenely, still seated, while Mhiyath fusses over the new addition. Soon, though, she has to abandon that to add the next to the set, already looking for a place to lay again.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Splattered Muck and Mud Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, This egg is brown, and brown, and more brown--the smallish ovoid looks as though it was dropped in the mud and left to harden on the sands with not so much as a cursory wiping-off. The base color of the leathery surface, where it can be seen at all, is a warm tan, but those glimpses are few; most of the egg is glopped with great gobs of mud and muck, dark brown drying in light-crested peaks over paler dirt, seeping into the shell wherever it's been smeared. A criss-cross pattern of black and tan runs from top to bottom amid the heavy sludge, sometimes vanishing entirely only to re-emerge some distance later, but at the top two tendrils of pale cord emerge relatively clean to drape down over the sides.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"That one looks like your favorite part of visiting the stables." Sorrin teases while looking at the muddy egg. It did -sorta- look like it had been dipped in runner droppings, or at least some really thick mud. "Do you think eggs like that have a different texture too, or is it just a trick of the eye?" The stable-girl squints, trying to get a better look but only managing to see more big gold dragon hiney. Behind them, the boys seem to have calmed down, although there are some whispered comments exchanged now and again.
Jule considers her friend for a moment and can't help but chuckle a little "Well, I can't really argue with that any. It does sorta have that look about it, though I wouldn't say such a thing in Lady Hassaleah's hearing." A wink is given to hr friend before she's shrugging and shaking her head "I've no idea. Lupis's egg felt just like any other egg. Maybe dragon eggs are differant though."
From the Sands, It doesn't take Mhiyath long to situate this most recent egg, but her attention does divert back to the golden one again--rearranging the sand, shifting its position, trying to get everything just perfect before she lets it out of her sight once more. Eventually, she must; though her belly is far less swollen now than it was before, there seem to still be a few more remaining.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Warmth of the Hearth Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Sultry tones of soil-brown and mahogany enfold the rounded curves of this egg; hints of cocoa and hazel, the interplay of brown hues create a pattern that trails over half the shell. As if a stonework pattern was wrought upon the shell, irregular forms lie stacked and placed in varied shapes, brown tones outlined with darker brown. And yet, while the overall coloration of this egg is of earthly shades, a brilliant burst of contrasting color can easily draw the eye inwards to the centermost portion of the egg where, in the middle of the stone-like pattern where the patterning gives away to open space, interwoven fire hues can be seen. Wisps of tangerine-orange, claret-red and sulfur-yellow weave together, twisting and turning into a flame-like shape that seems to radiate warmth.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You know... I have the strangest craving for klah now." Sorrin leans forward, propping her head on her hands as she looks at this latest addition to the pile of eggs. "We should grab a mug full from the hearth when we head back." She suggests, the idea perhaps influenced by the egg's coloration.
Jule chuckles softly to Sorrin and lifts her own mug "You can have a sip or two of mine if ya want. S'was about all I could grab on my way out of the infirmary. I still have duties to get back to later that well, I figured inventory could wait a bit." she winks goodnaturedly and looks over the newest egg. "Looks like she's gonna have a nice big clutch. Hope Lady Hassaleah is in a better mood now that her dragon won't be heavy anymore."
From the Sands, Moving slower now, her exertions wearing after this much larger-than-usual clutch, it is perhaps not surprising that Mhiyath is now putting much less effort into preparing the perfect spot, and just trying to get the rest done. Two more come in very quick succession, only a slight move in between so that they end up side-by-side before she does some shifting to arrange them properly.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Icebound Reservoir Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Paper-thin ice ripples over the freezing depths of this egg, each minute wave caught mid-motion in translucent white over the deep blue. As though responding to some freezing wind which does not touch these sands, the color grows paler, more opaque as it descends, as lake's first freeze becomes the thorough chill of late autumn. Early snows have drifted along the base, crisp peaks of arctic white against frigid blue, but the color has not deepened enough yet to seem solid--the deep water beneath looms, a darkness below the ice-blinding light.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ New-fallen Acorn Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Middling-large next to some of its siblings, this egg still sits off to the edge of the clutch as almost an afterthought, its brown shell nearly forgotten next to more brightly colored eggs. A layer of beige coats the smooth chestnut underside, uneven and almost vellum-fuzzed in places, circled round the middle by a darker ring. Above that ring, tan runs in papery streaks down the upper arc, from a knot of thick mahogany centered just off the exact peak, as though loosened from its original perch. Dropped there, it cants to an angle that remains uncorrected, fruit of the oak fallen and forgotten.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, The day has worn on, certainly long hours have passed--many people have already gone on for the evening meal, leaving Mhiyath finishing in much more peaceful circumstances than her first few. So it is that she clutches one last egg, and carefully arranging it in place, and then curls up around her little circle of twelve precious spheres for a well-earned nap.
From the Sands, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tempest-tossed Skyscape Egg ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the Sands, Leaden-gray and cimmerian-darkness duel in an aggressive display of dominance across the smooth-curved shell of this large egg -- certainly not the biggest of the clutch, but well sized nonetheless. The play of shadow and light across the shell lends to the semblance of gathering clouds that often boil up above the Weyr's spindled peaks; looming darkly and heavily along the skyline. Darkness duels with overcast light, dynamic and foreboding as each seeks to claim dominance over the other, the edges of each splash of color across the egg blurring slightly, melding into each other, a gaussian sweep of contrasts over the curve of the shell. But for all of it, the panoramic struggle of dark and light only creates the backdrop for the wavy bands of opalescent white that skid along the eggshell like clouds driven before the wind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
J'em stretches a bit, standing as Mhiyath settles in for her much-deserved rest. He gives a silent comment to Fenrith, and the bronze rumblecroons at the gold before quietly slipping off the sands, to let her enjoy her clutch.
Jule watches the rest of the clutching with Sorrin, the two speaking quietly to each other as it seems Mhiyath has laid her last egg. After a few minutes, Jule stands" I should be getting back and check in at the infirmary." She and the stablehand make plans to meet up again at next meal and the chubby apprentice starts shuffling towards the door. Spotting J'em, she waves a plump hand "It's a nice clutch Mhiyath laid isn't it sir?"
J'em nods at the comment, "Indeed, twice the size of her last one, I b'lieve. Fenrith done good." Ayup.
Jule chuckles a little and tilts her head up to peer at the Weyrleader "Don't you mean that Mhiyath did good, since it was her doing all the work out there sir?"
J'em grins, "Well, it was a combination. Without him, she'd not have the clutch." Well, unless another bronze caught her. The man stretches again before heading towards the stairs.
Jule nods aggreably. "True, but I still think she deserves a bigger portion of the credit, her contribution was a bit more than.." she trails off not wanting to offend and simply shrugs as she makes her way out with the others leaving.