Ankhepith x Troyseth Clutching

Ista Weyr - Hatching Sands
The gently convex floor is hardly visible thanks to its filling of deep black sand, nonetheless forming a bowl in which a clutch of eggs can harden in safety and warmth. Heated by the thermal energy of the dormant volcano, the sands are always opressively hot - even through boots, the sand seers and bakes, small rushes of air from above and through from the bowl making little difference. A large outcropping of stone becomes an island within this sea of sand, the resting place of a queen who guards her clutch; a smaller platform of wood is set aside for the queen's rider.
Centuries of eggshells scatter the dark sands, broken down to but pieces of colour amid the darkness. A staircase rises towards the far end of the sands, almost out of view, whilst a small passage leads in the general direction of the weyrling barracks.

This Is The Moment Egg
Unusually elongated, this little egg seems more fragile than any other. The tip appears to be corked with gold, a top waiting to be caressed and broken into when the moment is right. The rest of the shell seems to shimmer with the shine of green-ish glass, where the swirls of a hidden mist boil underneath, rippling with a rustic colour. As the shell gets towards its base, the edges seem to become grainy, the shimmering giving way to an unstable molten mix of browns, blues and bronze.

It's remarkably quiet for an afternoon, though presumably the lack of fanfare that surrounding the first egg of Ankhepith's latest clutch may be somewhat to blame. The young gold is alone on the sands for the moment, quietly heaping sand around the still damp egg and humming to herself - not the loud hum of a hatching, but a quiet contented hum of someone who's done what they planned and is feeling rather smug.

Ankhepith stirs, wings flaring slightly as she pushes to her feet. A short walk takes her to the side of her first egg and she begins to scrape a shallow depression in the sands.

From the Galleries> Bellanne hms softly, nodding curiously. "That's really wonderful, I think. But, I also don't see the reason there would be to be jealous. I mean, all dragons will rise eventually." She smiles absently, though an expression of pain does flitter over her face for a brief moment.

Ankhepith's sides heave, a visible ripple flowing down her body as a second egg makes a slow appearance. After a moment's inspection it's deemed worthy and rolled into the depression she just made.

Gotta Have a Gimmick Egg
This egg is not one to blend into the sands. Perhaps even one of the most colourful eggs amongst the others. Surrounding the peak of the egg are what seem like bright sparkling lights of colour giving the illusion of lighting up the egg below. Bright red velvety colour slides around the sides of the egg. As one moves around the egg endless arrays of colours peak out from the velvety curtains each seeming to allow for a different scene as the egg is viewed from different angles, just a tease of a scene not allowing you to see what it wishes to portray.

From the Galleries> Jeriah smiles and nods. "That they do. Too much competition is bad for a weyr….Ista is what matters most. Her care, Her people. Not my ego, not Leslyn's or even Sharix's. I think I've been spoiled here, I don't know that I could live anywhere after this, if attitudes are really that different elsewhere. Oh shells, I've done it again. I'm Jeriah, Teloriith's lifemate, please pardon the rudeness, sometimes I swear I'd forget to breath if I had any control over it, thanks to the hormones."

From the Galleries> Bellanne giggles softly. "Well, Fort's not that bad.. That I know of. I really like it there. Ista's a nice place to visit." She notes inclining her head again. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Bellanne, Journeyman Weaver of Fort." She smiles brightly. "Please don't worry about it, it's fine."

From the Galleries> Jeriah nods. "Well met, Journeyman. Ista's duties and all….I've only been to visit out there a few times. Well, mostly to Harper Hall, I'd a childhood friend from Xanadu who'd been apprenticed there half m'life ago it seems." She leans forward, trying to get a decent look at the new egg. "Oh my…I wonder if that one will change terribly much before it hatches…"

Ankhepith scrapes some sand up around the bottom of the new egg, peers at it for a moment then digs it back out again. Carefully she rolls it back out of the hole it sits in, digging another hold a couple of feet away and then rehousing it in its new position.

From the Galleries> Bellanne leans in and attempts to get a better look at the egg. She shrugs her shoulders idly and then grins. "Fort's duties to you as well." Her legs cross and she leans back in her seat a bit. "It seems fine… I think." Tilting her head, she smiles. "Ah.. I've never been to Xanadu for long."

From the Galleries> "It seems secretive." Jeriah nods, with a mild if tired grin. "Oh I really haven't much either, to be sadly honest. But if you've a chance to go down there again, try to stay long enough to see the Weyrharper Danewt perform. He's quite good." Then again, he'd have to be to be entertaining a whole weyr, no? "And if you've an older sister that's single, take her with you."

From the Galleries> Bellanne giggles softly, nodding. "I think I will. I've heard about him. He wears a skirt." She notes as if it's new information. "I am the only child in my family, sadly. Her shoulders shrug with a sigh. "Oh well."

From the Galleries> Jeriah nods, smiling more broadly, "Aye, that's the one. He's in need a good solid woman in his life, it stuns me to think that he's still single. Fine looks, fantastic voice, jovial and thoughtful in manner…." The more she talks the more resolve she has to find someone to hook up with the harper who might as well be her brother. "D'ya know anyone who'd like someone like this? Inspite of a serious obsession with music?"

Ankhepith leans her head against her second egg, gaze drifting to the edge of the sands as Leslyn finally puts in an appearance only to vanish again a moment later - sent away perhaps?

From the Galleries> Bellanne laughs softly, shaking her head. "Are you trying to offer him out?" She asks curiously. "I'm sorry I don't. I bet I'm too young, anyway." She winks playfully at the goldrider and shrugs. "I've never heard that much music, either… Might be nice though. I'll see if I can get Alisar to play something next time he's at Fort…"

Ankhepith moves away from the second egg at long last, dragging one foot along the sands behind her so that it leaves a small snake-like trail between first and second egg. The trail is continued a little away on the other side of the first egg and then she stops. Sitting down and turning to eye the galleries with some suspicion.

From the Galleries> Jeriah giggles. "I am, I'm supposing. From a certain point of veiw, of course. He's a dear friend, and he deserves someone as spectacular as he is. Sadly, he's yet to find her on his own. Too wrapped up in notes and law and educating, I'm thinking. Newt is honestly obsessed, he's always got some recording playing in the background, be it something modern or from the ancients…I think his heart would stop beating if ever it were actually silent around him." Jeri looks back out to the sands in time to catch the glower of the dam. "Oh Ankhepith, cammon now, I'm here neither to harm your children nor to make off with them. Nor is anyone else who's come to bask in your moment here." It's not really all that loud, with the accousitics of the galleries, it doesn't need to be.

From the Galleries> Bellanne giggles softly, gently moving to pat the woman's arm. "He'll find someone eventually. He'll not expect it and there she'll be." She notes, glancing towards the sands and she makes a face. "Eeh. Maybe I should go back to my guest room. It was a pleasure to meet you, Jeriah. I'll see you later." She smiles once more and trots out from the galleries.

Ankhepith turns her back on the galleries with a very determined flick of her tail, so determined to be grouchy that the next egg almost takes her by surprise. She barely has enough time to scrape a hole at the end of her trail before it puts in an appearance. She quickly noses it into place, scraping some sand up around it and very deliberately sitting down in front of it to block line of sight from the galleries.

Crumpled Pages of Liberty Egg
Its not the clearest picture, the lines warble and warp, as if one is looking at the main scene through ancient panes of glass, illuminated by flickering, guttering candlelight. Sienna and umber lines hold the panes still so they aren’t floating free across the otherwise smooth, glassy surface of this unusually warm egg. Round the bottom of the scene are blotches of crumpled paper, an extravagance to be sure. Black squiggles squirm across their surface, occasionally crossed through or blotted out entirely. Centered amidst these failed attempts sits a man, long of limb and discontent. His hand holding up his ruddy haired head, as if it would otherwise snap off for its stone like weight. It would appear that his muse has left him, tossed him like a rag doll into this chair with this all important, all consuming task to complete in far too short a time. The rest of the room around the man is in just as great a disarray, on the unmade bed lays what could be a violin, abandoned there to suffer in silence and collect dust. Just as his inspiration has left him, wilted, crumpled and wanting for Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of his own Happiness.

From the Galleries> Bellanne descends the staircase that leads to the Hatching Grounds Foyer.

From the Galleries> A bit after Bellanne's left Jeri drops a head into her hands, and calls over the boy that escorted her in. The heat's just too much, and fortunatly for her, Jeri manages to catch herself before it's too much an issue. Then again, suffering as acutely from the heat as Jeri tends to….? Lets hop it's another seven months or so before Teloriith rises again. So the young man helps the oldest goldrider in Ista out into the relativly cooler area of the bowl….

Ankhepith lumbers to her feet once more, slowly dragging a trail away from the small cluster of eggs. With great care she deposits another egg onto the sands, carefully mounding sand around it before moving away a short distance.

If I Were a Gold Egg
Before you stands an egg of strange colors. The bottom of the egg is white with brown lines forming boxes of four boxes each, windows into the soul of this egg. Above this, dominating the middle ring of the egg is the color black with lines of grey forming checkers through-out; shingles to keep naughty candidates from weathering the egg too much. Above the egg, swirls of white, green, and brown glide along the surface of the egg. Finally, the top of the egg is a tussle of brown, defiant from the rest of the egg and yet ever prominent.

Ankhepith digs a deeper hole this time, taking her time and making sure it's just the perfect distance from the rest. With a slight hiss she deposits another egg into the crater she's made, leaving it sitting there and not making any attempt to fill in the hole around it.

Eve of the War Egg
Resting in a deep crater on the sand is a huge cylinder, dark gunmetal grey but seeming to glow with an intense heat. A flare of colour spurts out from the tip, bright green and dragging a noxious mist behind it as it plummets towards the sands and vanishes from sight, burrowing deep beneath the surface. A white flash opposes it, almost blinding in intensity as if able to reduce any who touch it to nothing. It sits so safe and tranquil, yet with a malevolent air surrounding it. It waits.

Ankhepith struggles a little with the next egg, the time between them slowly increasing to a point where a dragonhealer is constantly on watch. A rather dreary looking egg puts in a slow appearance, left to sit on its own for a while before the gold slowly heaps sand around it.

Nights of the Round Egg
Dreary gray swirls around the base of this egg, a heavy fog draped over the shell, refusing to be burnt away. Yet, amidst the fog, the dark outlines of a forest can be made out, tall shadowy forms standing amongst them. And, set amongst the forest is the vague outline of an old castle, overlooking the expanse of the shell. Despite the dreariness of the majority of the shell, a single golden spot sits near the apex, a shining beacon, a guide through the darkness.

Ankhepith rumbles at Troyseth now that he's arrived, ordering him to do his duty and make a home for their next child. A hole is dug, almost exactly in the centre of the rest of the eggs, and the next egg is gently nudged into place.

Dark Battles Not Yet Lost Egg
Deepest shades of blue black are silhouetted on a sickening nearly black, overcast sky. Hints of silver and cold pale grey outline the clouds and the very sinister edges of clumps of leafless trees and ancient stone grave markers. In the foreground, the moonlit form of a slender woman appears to be readied for some sort of action, her weapon nothing more than a stubby, pointed stick held in an overhand position, ready to strike at ghastly, foggy apparitions that surround her. They seem to shift and move with the changing in light playing across the shell, all but the stalwartly still standing, solid shape of the woman.

Ankhepith stretches, rumbling to Troyseth to move out of her way as she paces towards the edge of the clutch. Slowly another depression is dug in the sands and after a moment's straining an eighth egg makes an appearance.

An Egg-Apple for You! Egg
The dominate color of this egg is a dark golden brown. Most of the egg is covered in this color with lines of dark brown cris-crossing all over the egg, forming diamond shapes all over it. Within each of these diamonds, in the center of each to be exact, dots of dark brown are there, forming points for each "diamond." Finally, a tussle of green sits along the top of the egg, with swirls of dark green interweaving, giving the egg's top a sense of depth.

Ankhepith moves sluggishly, barely managing to rouse herself from the sands long enough for a ninth egg to be revealed and rolled into its place in the clutch by Troyseth. Barely five minutes later she rises again, settling a tenth egg onto the sands before moving off into a corner to finally rest.

Keep It Gay Egg
PINK! is what this egg is, not so physically large as some eggs perhaps but it more than makes up for size with it's blinding presence on the sandy stage. Capping the top of the egg, decadent whorls of fuchsia sweep up from the centre in a feathery pink crescendo, draping down one side like a cloak. Moving further down the gaily decorated egg, multiple loops of pearlescent salmon baubles sparkle across the tantalising cerise finery that covers a trio of blushing pink patches.
One Short Day Egg
Hewn from a single emerald, this wide bottomed egg is a study in illusion. Delicate traceries of a darker forest green spread across the surface, carving the soaring spires and towering minarets of a great city on the shell. But even the most beautiful of gems have flaws, and this one is no exception. Near the bottom, just visible above the line of the sands, a black triangle makes its presence know while another triangle, this one pure white, waits in its shadow.

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