Llysereth x Petryth Clutching

Llysereth's entrance to the sands is laboured; she's got a very bulky belly, all full of eggs, and this rolls in front of her as she lumbers onto the dark sands, attempting to make herself comfortable atop them. To Petryth, she warbles sharply - as if remarking that he is the one who got her in this mess, and he should get her out. With some difficulty, she begins to try and dig a depression out of the sand. Lydiere - looking a bit rushed - steps onto the sand shortly after her lifemate does, immediately glancing up into the galleries to smile somewhat nervously.

Petryth follows along warbling soothingly to Llysereth and immediately begins to help with the digging. Every movement punctuated by soothing remarks to the lovely queen. He seems very eager to help Llysereth in any way he can. Ez'ial follows along behind giving a wave to Lydiere and crosses over to her with a shake of his head towards Petryth and his ever eager helpfulness.

[DTU/Project] Petryth senses that Llysereth is agitated - she's in slight pain, belly rippling uncomfortably as she begins to push - and she notes, somewhat sharper than would ever be her voice usually, « Dig holes. For the eggs. »

Llysereth's heaving, rolling belly is set gingerly down, as the queen attempts to make herself comfortable atop a hastily made depression within the black Istan sands. Muscles tensing - then relaxing - and then tensing again, she pushes with all her might, leaving within her wake the first of her clutch, for Petryth to find a home for.

Jumble of Letters Egg
This little black and white egg seems to spend most of it's time hidden by larger or more colorful neighbors. It's surface for the most part is a starkwhite. Vaguely cubicle shapes are shadowed in dark greys with blurs of what seem almost to be letters. The cubes seem to burst upwards from the solid black bottom of the little egg. It's almost as if someone had shaken this little egg and sent little cubes flying upwards across it's curved surface towards to the top.

Petryth rumbles softly to Llysereth tones soothing, but he keeps himself busy so as not to agitate her any more than she is already. Moving from place to place he digs depressions in the sands for the eggs, making them more shallow or deeper as Llysereth directs.

[DTU/Project] Llysereth senses that Petryth croons softly to you, beginning to work immediately, any direction to the size and depth of the holes is immediately acted upon

[DTU/Project] Petryth senses that Llysereth is pretty vague about her requirements - but the eggs /must/ be covered nicely, protected, and she's far too busy. Another labour pain shoots through her, and she feebly murmurs in pain.

Llysereth considers the sand beneath her, and the nice depressions carved out by her mate, and huffs, sending a spray of that sand up into the air, wings settling about herself. With exaggerated heaviness, and a lumbering motion, she settles herself atop the depression closest at hand, heaving and pushing from within, muscles tensing as she releases another of her clutch. Relieved of its presence, Llysereth lifts herself, drawing herself away with an ungainly gracelessness.

Sunny Childhood Egg
Swirls of cheerful colors mix and meld in a seemingly endless rainbow, a shell that seems almost like a child's finger painting. A ribbon of changing color encircles the shell, melting from cherry to grape to lemon, blueberry, orange, and passing through areas of light purple striped in pink, or a rich brown surrounded by a friendly yellow, and in the fields of grassy green that stretch across the bottom and the side there are thumbprints of the same vibrant colors. Only in one place, the center of one side of the egg, does this sweet childlike picture turn dark, with a few twisting lines of dark red and black knotted together, though even this fades around the edges until it turns to the color of daisies and buttercups.

Petryth moves to each depression as the eggs are laid and carefully covers the eggs partially obscuring them and crooning to them as if the little dragons inside could understand him. Crooning soothingly to LLysereth each time he finishes he quickly moves to dig another depression making sure there is always another one ready for her.

[DTU/Project] Llysereth senses that Petryth rumbles softly and soothingly to both the eggs and their beautiful dam. Both of which he's exceedingly proud of at this moment.

[DTU/Project] Petryth senses that Llysereth hardly considers herself beautiful - in fact, she's fat, and ugly, and doing these horrible contortion things! Huff. She's not impressed. But she /is/ trying, with some affection towards her mate; perhaps he isn't /quite/ so bad.

Lydiere greets each egg nervously, smiling up at her lifemate encouragingly. "That's a lovely one, dearest," she declares, "No, really, it is. Petryth things so too, it looks like." Llysereth doesn't appear to be entirely convinced, fanning her wings about her uncomfortably.

Ez'ial grins over at Petryth, "yes, they are lovely eggs, and Llysereth is a lovely mate.. yes you are.. very lucky.." He gives an amused look over at Lydiere as the comments from their lifemates are very different in tone and nature.

Fanning her wings, as if trying to keep herself cool, Llysereth lumbers heavily across the sands to find herself another suitable spot - some of this just will not do. Pickily, she sets herself down, then moves herself again, huffing annoyedly at Lydiere: these sands just are not right! To this end she is caught out, and finds herself pushing against the pressure of another egg, which ends up upon the sand beneath her.

Colorful Curves Egg
This egg is a somewhat largish egg. Almost perfectly round in shape, it seems more like a child's toy than a dragon's egg. It's surface covered with brilliant and almost garish colors. Pink, yellow and bright purple move across it's surface in odd little shapes. Some seem to be wide swathes of color that curl around the egg ending abruptly on bright blue squares of color. Others seem to be shaped like a ladder curling upwards reachign towards the bright pink square at the top of the egg. Little conical blobs of color follow the squares around towards the brighter swirls and ladder shapes as if chasing each other. The egg seems cheeful in it's jumble of bright colors and playful shapes.

Petryth gives another deep and comforting rumble to Llysereth as the next egg arrives. Immediately rushing over he croons to the little egg as he covers it carefully. All the while his little monologue of comforting croons to both the eggs and their dam express his beaming pride in them both.

Lydiere gives Ez'ial a somewhat rueful grin in return, steadily stepping around the eggs towards her lifemate, to give her an encouraging rub upon the highest point of her forelimb that that average-sized woman can reach. "No, they're not as good as the old ones," she agrees, soothingly, towards the queen, "But they're going to do. They're better than nothing. Just relax, Llysereth." Llysereth humms softly at Petryth, waddling a bit closer to him to give him a nuzzle - no, not /quite/ so bad as all that.

Petryth croons softly bath to his elegant Llysereth, crooning pride and joy to his mate and softly rubbing his muzzle against her neck in a soothing way. He nuzzles and commiserates with her about the state of the sands and moves to fix the next depression cocking his head towards her to see if he can help his regal queen any more.

Llysereth huffs in annoyance at Petryth, who simply isn't doing well enough - despite his best efforts - and cradles her distended belly within a new hollow in the dark sand. She lets free a groan of pain, as if this egg is not coming easily, and then releases her tensed muscles, at long last, to leave it behind in the sand.

Creative Deception Egg
A plethora of brilliant shades encircle the small ovoid shape of this egg - shades twisting and blossoming in to each other with random, imaginative delight. From beneath the bottom curve, where it lies nestled upon the dark sand, streams of crimson flood towards a muddy reach of brown that drips from the highest point, meeting sunflower yellow along the way, in little paint-splattered spots. Dusky hues of deep purple and blue turn deceptively gold in one light, a pale sheen marked about it, but in the next are no more metallic than any other. Beneath a lower curve, an explosion of pale pink insists upon catching attention, like an eye-catching promise at truth, nonetheless as imperfect as any other, turning darker red within the glare of a different viewpoint, shifting and changing for all time.

Ez'ial grins at Lydiere and murmurs softly, "this is the most interesting pair.. it's so amusing to watch sometimes" making sure that he keeps his voice down least there be more trouble in 'paradise'.

Petryth seems oblivious and continues his crooning encouragement to the lovely Llysereth commiserating with her clutching pains, notes of apology in his tone as he rushes over to carefully cover the next egg. Once that little egg has been croonsed into it's place he moves back to make sure the next depression is ready. Then busily rushes over to fix the others, a little more sand here, a little less there.

Lydiere agrees, turning her head to grin at Ez'ial again: "Oh, I know. Amazing." A giggle is expelled at Llysereth's attitude - one minute loving, the next unsatisfied - but she attempts to hold it back and maintain decorum. The queen huffs again, singularly unimpressed with everything.

Ez'ial shakes his head and leans to murmur to Lydiere, "perhaps that's what makes them a good couple.." He shakes his head at his bronze's blissful business. Every little egg being crooned to and the bronze's pride in his mate crooned with every new egg that appears.

Palest, moonlit hide glistens and gyrates with a beauty of its own as Llysereth heaves her lumbering body from one spot upon the sands to the next. This is not, patently, comfortable, nor is she content with it, eggs aside. Perhaps eggs included. Pushing with all of her might, she expells yet another egg, leaving it behind without so much as a glance. Petryth will deal with it.

Delicate Symbols Egg
This egg is neither large nor small, appearing rather average in size, but interesting all the same. It's surface seems to be covered in vaguely rectangular shapes, some of which seem to pile on top of others. All across the little rectangles are intricate and elegant little symbols. Some seem to be flowers or even human figures, others could almost be a letter from some foreign language. Brilliant red, green and blue splash through the symbols and every time you look at it again it seems to have changed just a little in formation.

"Perhaps it is," agrees Lydiere, in muted tones, shifting her feat from the heat; it /is/ uncomfortably hot on the sands, and she's not really dressed for it - though it appears as though she tried to look presentable.

Petryth trundles over quickly crooning to the next little egg, welcoming the little dragon inside as he begins to carefully cover it. Soft loving croons are there for his beautiful mate, compliments on her lovely hide and how beautiful she is are always present. The busy bronze doesn't seem to stop moving as one egg is settled into it's 'bed' then he rushes to be sure the next depression is just right before fussing with previously covered eggs.

Llysereth is not quite so busy, between eggs - but that's for a reason: she's looking a little tired. "I can't imagine what it would be like if they still clutched thirty or forty eggs," murmurs Lydiere, wrinkling her nose resolutely. "She won't clutch more than… ten, maybe twelve, and she's already exhausted. Poor Llysereth." The queen croons back at her, somewhat dejectedly, panting.

Ez'ial shakes his head at Petryth rumbles softly and soothingly to his mate, "I can't imagine it, and there were more than one queen a turn laying those clutches.. it must have been amazing" He watches with sympathy as the queen lays her eggs. His bronze lifemate rushing about to change this or that, soothing his mate in any way he can sympathy and care in his deep baritone voice.

Lydiere nods, head still shaking. "That's five queens to a weyr, in some cases, clutches that huge—" she sobers, adding, "But I suppose they had a lot of casualties, as well." She starts to dig her hands into her pockets, and then stops, letting them drop towards her sides.

Llysereth waits for a long time, over her new chosen spot, some distance away from the other eggs in their little mounds of sand. For a while, it seems as if there isn't another egg coming, and then, almost without warning, the pains of labour begin again, and she pushes, her cry somewhat deeper than her usual voice, distressed and in pain. At length, however, the little egg is set free, and she collapses down upon the sand, tail limp against it.

Flying Flame Egg
A rather small egg compared to it's clutchmates, this sphere definitely draws the eye. Brilliant flamelicks of sunburnt orange, glowing crimson and saffron yellow streak across this egg to surround it's large curves as if it were being consumed by a huge bonfire. Oddly enough right in the very center of the chaos is a spherical blob of burnt umber that seems to draw the flames down to it as if it were the source of the riotous color. Here and there are stylized little symbols that look for all the world like indigo representations of musical notes. The little symbols seem to make this wildly colored egg seem cheerful where it might otherwise have seemed frightening.

Petryth lets out a deep low rumble as the next egg appears quickly moving to her side again and beginning to cover the egg. Welcoming the little egg and it's occupant while he rumbles compliments to his regal mate on her lovely eggs.

Lydiere's eyes go wide - "Oh, Llys…" she murmurs, soothingly. "There can't be many left. You can do it. I know it hurts." Llysereth manages to croon back at Petryth, as well as Lydiere, though not without weariness deeply set within her voice. She couldn't cope with forty eggs, no way.

Ez'ial fidgets from foot to foot as Lydiere tries to sooth her lifemate. Petryth all the while trying to sooth Llysereth in any way he can, crooning sympathy as the queen seems more and more tired.

Llysereth pulls herself back upright again, looking even washed out and tired, lumbering with obvious pain towards the nearest empty gap amid her small clutch. It takes only a few minutes, but even this seems to be too much - as soon as the egg is deposited upon the sand, she pulls herself away, and rolls up, almost into a ball, to sleep, the loose hide of her now-emptied belly folding beneath her.

Spiritual Letters Egg
This smallish egg is a deep rich ochre in color. Irregular lines of sienna and umber wash across the egg giving it almost a wood grain appearance. Along its surface are two curved rows of symbols that resemble letters and one long straight row that resembles numbers. A tiny straight row at the bottom could be a word but you can quite tell. The strange little symboles are marred by a large tear shape that obscures some of them, it's own surface seeming to be graced by a stylized curved symbol of sorts. Along with these strange rows of symbols there is a little moon shaped object, a couple of stars and a smaller star nested in a half moon. The entire little egg is such a strange little thing it's hard to tell what to make of it.

Petryth begins to cover the last of the eggs with deep prideful croonings to his lovely mate. As she seetles to sleep he moves about as quietly as he can to care for the eggs so she has nothing to worry about while she rests.

Lydiere counts the eggs appraisingly, then glances back at Ez'ial, "That's the lot. Seven. Not a bad number. Fardles, it's hot. I'm just going to go and see to Llysereth - and then head off of her for a bit before she wakes up." Llysereth's to out of it to really respond to her lifemate's touch, but Lydiere scratches at the dragon's headknobs lovingly, murmuring to her beneath her breath.

Ez'ial nods and wanders to look over the eggs, "they all look to be in good shape.. what a wonderful clutch" He gets quiet as he passes close to the queen. Petryth finally satisfied that every egg is in it's proper place he settles next to Llysereth, putting a protective queen over her as she sleeps, his head curved around so that he can watch over the clutch protectively. His eye turning towards the gallery almost suspiciously for a moment before looking back towards the clutch itself. Ez'ial grins over at Lydiere, "want to get somethign to eat with me, they'll be ok for a bit… I'm sure she'll want you often enough here once she wakes up."

Lydiere, satisfied that Llysereth will be all right, lifts her head and nods. "I will, but I think I need to have a wash and change my clothes, first. I'll see you soon." She glances up into the galleries, watches them thoughtfully for a moment, and then notes, "Besides which, I haven't yet had a chance to wish Keidire a happy turnday. It's his, and Llysereth's, today."

Ez'ial grins, "what a lovely coincidence.." He nods at the rest, "I probably need a change of clothes too, I'll see you later on then?"

Lydiere grins, brightly. "Well - /I/ think so. Keid might not. It's his twelfth, after all. Important, at least to him. I'll see you later," she agrees, heading off down the passage to the records room.


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