Rain-Washed Wings 1/4
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Duskdog, Iluva
Date Posted: 11th September 2025
Characters: Nidre, Th'reyos
Description: Jossenth and Zarkarth’s clutch hatches!
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 15 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: R’lor, Dasheir, Hayazi, Ilthralos, Jelantos, Kaedin, Nijen, Shulamit, Tindral, Viantico, Zaidi, Zavallan, Vianne, Cirina, Chandrany
Rain had been falling since dawn -- a warm, heavy curtain of misty grey that blurred the line between sea and sky. Its steady patter drummed against the stone ledges of the Weyr, a rhythm so constant it might have lulled Dolphin Cove into a drowsy quiet -- if not for the answering hum that began around mid-morning. It started with Jossenth, and then Zarkarth. And then more and more dragons joined in, until it pulsed through the stone from deep within the Hatching Cavern and reverberated all around the Weyr. The sound threaded through the background of Nidre’s thoughts until it seemed to match the low thrum vibrating beneath her boots -- the drone of the rain and hum of the dragons mixing together in a living heartbeat echoing through the Hatching Cavern. By now, as the Hatching approached, the voice of every dragon in the Weyr had joined together to welcome their newest kin.
Beyond the dragons, the stands filled with damp guests shaking rain from clothes and hair, their excited chatter echoing in counterpoint to the hum. The candidates gathered at the edge of the Sands under R’lor’s watchful eye, waiting for the okay to enter. And Nidre found her own seat, trying not to fidget in her new dress. She was never entirely comfortable in them these days, having long since realized that she finds trousers much more to her liking, but every so often she gets this strange itch to present a bit more feminine for special occasions. (And, inevitably, can’t remember why she ever wanted to do so once she actually has the dress on.)
“You know the best part about Hatchings?” she asked Th’reyos.
The brownrider looked at her curiously and gave a small shake of his head. “The babies? The attention? The way they-” he nodded to their proudly humming dragons, “turn to goo?” Th'reyos had been enjoying his stay in Dolphin Cove to the fullest degree, and in keeping with that he was already slightly reclined in his seat, warmth in everything from his eyes to his voice.
“When they’re over,” she said with a little grimace, though her smile immediately afterward betrayed the sentiment somewhat. “No, it _is_ beautiful to watch and I adore this part… it’s just nice to be out of the dress and done with the whole cycle for a while.”
Th'reyos snorted sympathetically. “Yeah, I'd probably go a little crazy this long on the ground, too. You're almost there.” Absently adjusting the cuff of his shirt, not exactly resembling his usual self, either, in fine tailored pants and a shirt that fit without making him look rakish, he almost looked like someone owned him today. His roughness was still present, of course - the slight shadow of stubble, the tousled hair, glint in his eye.
“For what it's worth, you're making that dress sing, Ni.” On the small stage where the clutchparents’ riders were sat, it might not have been so obvious to anyone else that he was admiring the Weyrwoman’s Second with some less than pure intentions. “You get free of it and we should have a drink later,” he grinned, “you and me.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll make sure not to overdo it at the feast, then. I have to admit, I’m going to miss you when you’ve gone back home to the cold. It’s not so bad being grounded for a while when there’s someone around to make it more pleasant than it would be otherwise…”
The candidates were spreading out around the eggs now, the humming of the dragons reaching a height that was starting to make it difficult to continue conversation. It didn’t last for much longer, though, as the sound of the very first egg to crack brought everything to a sudden stop, the cavern falling abruptly into a hush that was heavy with anticipation.
The egg -- an unremarkable one, medium-sized and mottled evenly with earth-tones and a faint splash of blue -- continued to crack straight down the middle, smaller cracks finally spreading outward as a persistent brown muzzle pushed itself through. Whirling eyes blinked away egg goo, looking around this new environment for only a moment before the dragon renewed its efforts, pushing through and cracking the rest of his shell enough to step free.
A solid, thick-chested young brown with a hide the color of dust and ochre stood amongst the remains of his egg, pausing again to get a better look at his surroundings this time.
The picture of paternal pride from where he lay, Zarkarth's vibrant welcoming croon filled the air to this first precious addition to Pern. Though he had effectively bullied many of the candidates here throughout their egg touching lesson, he felt no urge to interfere now. He watched with relaxed attention and aside from the occasional familiar scan of the perimeter he only had eyes for their dragonets. Each darling one.
His call rang out in quick succession, this time to a long-limbed green shining wet and bright beneath the heat-hazy cavern lights. Beaten by her brother by only a few moments, she stood shaking out her pale damp wings in a mix of enthusiasm to be free of restraints and curiosity for where exactly she was.
Undaunted, the big green squared herself up and weaved her way through a few twitching eggs to where the brown stood, giving him an encouraging little nudge with her snout.
Th’reyos’ attention, however, was fixed on a tiny little egg at the back of the clutch.
So far back, that if not for the way it shook and rocked so fiercely, so mightily that it put some of the larger eggs to shame, it would for sure be missed right now.
The tiny egg shivered and shook one final time and then promptly burst apart like it had been hit with a hammer, followed by a shrill, ear-splitting squawk that rolled all the way out to the crowded Stands.
Th’reyos grinned and straightened up slightly, catching a fleeting glimpse of forest green through the shells.
Her shell had been an especially tough crack and the little green lay exhausted, part of its thick viscous membrane still glued to her big head, hissing and creeling with hunger.
Nidre couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Dramatic, isn’t she? Poor thing, she _did_ have a hard time, though.”
The brown nudged the long-limbed green in return in greeting, before glancing back over his shoulder at the second green and giving a short little noise -- not a roar, but not a creel, either -- just a quiet bleat of obvious annoyance and disapproval.
}:The sooner you find your rider, the sooner you’ll stop being bothered by her noise,:{ Jossenth encouraged her new son, crooning her encouragement. }:You’ll be focused on other things.:{
The brown gave a little baby rumble that might have signaled agreement, turning back to the first green and nudging her again -- an invitation to come along as he stumbled only a little out towards the ring of candidates.
The big green rumbled her assent, an acceptance if there ever was one. Setting out almost in sync, the two dragonets darted forward, nothing but a blur of movement kicking the sands up into a small storm. In their enthusiasm they may have also cut off their unsteady green sister just as she approached and she teetered, going down in a wild heap again, muffled cry included.
Zarkarth crooned softly. Leaning down to give the tiny green the tiniest of nudges with his nose, his daughter -- who was of course hissing and snarling until she got to her feet -- staggered forward a few paces and shook herself out gracelessly. She stared up at her sire with a baleful, tired look.
}:Go on.:{ He murmured softly. }:You've got this.:{
Drawing herself up with a huff, she wearily approached the crowds, determination in each step, and, now, coated in a thick crust of coarse sand.
Just ahead, the brown and green had descended upon the male candidates with single-minded purpose. The big green's gait sported only a few short stumbles, too busy craning her neck about those hopeful faces with the utmost fascination and assessment in the whirl of her eyes to watch where she was going.
Oh-! There! Lanky and brimming with curiosity, just like she was. The green warbled happily with what appeared to be recognition and immediately trotted towards him, her eyes locked with Viantico, their match all but certain.
The brown, who had paused just behind her to give all of the closest cluster of candidates a sweeping, considering gaze, suddenly inhaled so sharply that the candidates could hear the startled intake of breath. He lunged forward, blocking his green sister’s advance towards Viantico with his shoulder.
}:No!:{ he said to his sister, but it echoed in Viantico’s head, too -- a stern, _weighty_ voice, not unpleasant, but dry and heavy like sun-cracked soil. The brown took another breath, this one calmer, more measured. }:No. You have excellent taste, but _this_ one is for _me_.:{
And then he turned his whirling eyes up to Viantico, his green sisters entirely forgotten for the moment.. }:I won’t blame you for wanting her, Viantico -- she’s a good and clever dragon. But I am Thazareth, and surely you know now that you were meant for _me_.:{
It wasn’t a question, but there was a hint of amusement to the tone, nonetheless.
There was an eruption of applause and cheers as the first Impression was sealed, thrusting the air up against the cavern ceiling like a fair of a thousand frantic firelizards.
Zarkarth's ear-ringing bugle reverberated next, drowned out only by the ancient humming of the Weyr's dragons.
Well, then. The big green dragonet was clearly annoyed by this turn of events, observing her brother and his new rider with exasperated curiosity. Orange quickly fled her eyes as she turned and shook off the whole misunderstanding with a tight snap of her pale wings.
She turned and assessed the boys again, still feeling him somewhere.
She weaved between two candidates with more hopeful faces staring at her with each step -- then froze.
Then all at once the big green was galloping -- all paws and wings and the glistening dampness of her freshly-hatched body hurling through the air. The candidates who saw her charging forward quickly dispersed and with just a few more following by instinct.
}:There you are!:{ She cried. A voice like summer sunshine came bursting into Jelantos’ mind, an enthusiastic ignition of awareness, at the same moment she collided with his legs. Sand splashed into the waves of heat as boy and dragon tangled and tumbled down together, pelting a couple of the nearby candidates in a wild spray of boiling hot grains.
The green squealed, just trying to right herself. }:Now, see? I knew you were here, Jelantos! I just couldn't see you with that big brown butt in the way.:{ She didn't sound particularly angry about her brother, and what was didn’t last. Instead her damp muzzle pressed eagerly to her rider’s nose still in the sand. }:I didn't hurt you, did I, my love? I'm your Hallisenth.:{
}:Ah. Hallisenth.:{ Zarkarth echoed warmly to his rider.
A few more dragonets had finally made the journey over by now - a cluster of two greens and a rather rambunctious blue that could still be heard over the rain, the rear of which was being brought up by the tiny little green, the crusty one wrapped in her fury.
After the surprise of Hallisenth full-on tackling her rider, the little green instinctively veered the other way. On wooden legs, she staggered toward the faces of many hopeful and smiling girls. The green surveyed them carefully. What could be seen of her eyeridges were heavily encrusted, blinking uncomfortably, hungry and tired and just so _done_ with all of this. However, not to be outdone nor defeated, she let out another loud, beleaguered huff and staggered on with renewed purpose.
Th'reyos’ hand ghosted Nidre’s, nudging gently. He pointed to the little green now that she appeared to have only one destination in her mind: Cirina.
The green took another stout step toward the young woman, a sharp creel of hunger caught in her throat. Demanding and sharp to the ears -- the way it was intended.
And then all at once, since the older girl would not move, she was darting around Cirina, desperate to reach a much, much smaller girl hiding behind her:
}:Tindral! My Tindral!:{ The green dragonet forcibly booped the girl in the belly, demanding that her rider rid her of every ache and trouble and hunger _immediately_. }:It’s me, Mdorith! Why are you hiding back here? Weren’t you _listening_? Didn’t you _see_ me?:{ She headbutted Tindral again for emphasis. }:Take me to food! My stomach is so empty, and it’s bright out here and I am not staying another minute!:{
Last updated on the September 18th 2025