Fretting

Writers: Heather, Iluva, Yvonne
Date Posted: 25th July 2025

Characters: Eyla, Rasme, Thiseta
Description: Thiseta is fretting over Imbeth's eggs.
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 8, day 3 of Turn 12

Eyla

Rasme

"Thanks again for coming," Thiseta said. Having dragonhealers examine a clutch was standard practice, but Thiseta lived in fear that this would be the day that something was wrong with one of the eggs. Anything to do with any sort of Healers made her nervous, as if somehow her own weaknesses could infect Imbeth. More importantly, the Weyr needed an uncomplicated Hatching after losing Riyanth mere months ago.

}:My eggs are fine,:{ Imbeth told her again. }:Those people have no reason to be on my Sands.:{

**Yes they do, and you _will_ let them. You like Eyla, remember? Thakkorth's rider?**

}:I like _Thakkorth_.:{

Thiseta turned her attention back to the three dragonhealers in her office with a nervous smile. "Imbeth will let you onto the Sands but it will have to be a quick visit. I didn't see anything concerning when I did my checks but I trust your skill over mine."

Rasme personally thought the practice of checking eggs to be a silly one. It wasn't as if they could _do_ anything if there was a dud egg out there on the sands. A dud simply wouldn't hatch and then after the Hatching it would be carried /between/ by the sire. Still, coming down to the sands had been a nice excuse to get out of the dragon infirmary for bit.

Leaving the niceties to Eyla, **Since _she's_ the Weyrdragonhealer,** the retired goldrider strode onto the sands, keeping one eye on Imbeth.

}:My rider will be very careful,:{ the petite Piketh said to Imbeth.

Imbeth replied with a worried rumble.

The clipboard abandoned in Thiseta's office, Eyla was in slightly better spirits than the goldrider. It was true -- there was nothing to be done about a dud. And at this early juncture, she would be hesitant to declare variations or oddities just that, but she had hide and stylus in her pockets if for whatever reason the need arose.

She smiled at Thiseta. Not all surprises were good on Hatching day, and if it could allay some of her anxiety without stirring too much in Imbeth, if it might prepare the young Weyrwoman in one direction or another, then it was worth a quick quarter candlemark's inspection.

Maybe.

Imbeth was every inch the displeased and devoted mother. Thakkorth warbled a soft greeting somewhere above, looking to reassure as well while her rider bowed tightly to the Queen.

Eyla traced a slow arc on the perimeter, just letting the clutch speak for itself at this distance. When she finally saw one that she wanted to approach, she did so carefully, like she was really trying to pet a sleeping watchwher.

"Mm this one's a little oblong," she noted, mostly to herself, "but that's nothing usual. It was probably just tucked in tight against another egg when it started hardening."

Imbeth snorted, sending a spray of sand to slap Eyla and interrupt her examination. }:It is _fine_.:{

**Just let them do their job,** Thiseta told her. She walked confidently between the eggs until she stood at Imbeth's nose. **Don't be rude.**

}:I don't like this.:{

**It's good practice before we let the Candidates come take a look.**

As expected, Imbeth's attention was immediately pulled away from the dragonhealers to focus on her rider. Her eyes whirled with unhappy oranges as she contemplated a bunch of clumsy human children trampling all through her lovely nest and rubbing their grabby hands on her precious eggs. }:No.:{

**It _will_ happen,** Thiseta said, putting a hand on her dragon's snout as Imbeth's tail swished unhappily through the sand.

Eyla gave Rasme an annoyed look of 'don't say a sharding word' before proceeding to dig the sand out of her eyes. Thiseta moved to distract the gold, so she quietly moved to another one, giving this one a cursory, albeit curious, look over. Lovely, just like the rest. If nothing else, the slap of sand told them exactly how close _not_ to get, and she could hardly blame Imbeth for being protective. The swishing tail may as well have been a tunnelsnake waiting in the tall grass: it was only a matter of time.

Rasme wisely looked away from Eyla before she did something character breaking, like laugh, and then checked her third of the eggs. She carefully approached Thiseta, wary of Imbeth, but Piketh's calming presence still sat outside the Hatching Cavern. "The eggs I saw looked quite lovely, Weyrwoman. Imbeth and Tzenketh have done well."

Thiseta smiled in relief. "Oh thank Faranth. I know it's ridiculous, but I always worry."

Pleased with what could be safely observed at this distance, Eyla dusted off her burning knees and trekked over to join the other women. "It certainly doesn't hurt to look. And they do look quite lovely." She agreed, looking up at the poor perturbed queen. "Imbeth, dear, you've taken wonderful care of them."

Imbeth rumbled her agreement, somewhat mollified. For now.

The Weyrwoman gestured for the two others to follow her out of the Hatching Caverns. "I'm assuming that you share Rasme's assessment, Eyla? No issues?"

Eyla shook her head without hesitation. "No, not at all. You've got a healthy clutch hardening perfectly, Weyrwoman. At this point, it's best to let their mother tend to them the way she has. Can't blame her - I'd want to be left to it, too." She chuckled, soft but certain.

Call it conjecture, speculation, guesswork -- or just pure, uncut hope -- but this clutch was the future, and it already looked better than the past.

Last updated on the August 1st 2025

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Fretting