[G] [C] 731.06.04 | Wish Upon A Star [HATCHING]

A long and quiet 30 minutes passed as the remaining Candidates stared with varying levels of heightened emotions at the five remaining eggs. For his own part, Allendris did not feel nearly the same amount of steadily growing anxiety that the boy standing next to him was obviously going through as the minutes ticked past with excruciating slowness. Allendris merely stood with the very distinct idea that beyond the short-lived shock of seeing his friend and roommate Impress, the outcome of this clutch did not matter much to him. He was, after all, only willingly present to observe and to learn, and after seeing just how unpredictable and violent a newborn dragon could be, the young man was willing to call the mere survival of his first Hatching a success. If he felt any anxiety at all, it was borne from the desire to simply sit down somewhere quiet and collect his thoughts on all that had happened that day.

Still, there were eggs remaining, and he was still curious as to what would come out of them and which of his classmate would be lucky? enough to walk away from the sands with their new lifemate in tow.

Finally, the shells were beginning to show some cracks. Though nearly all of Allendris's attention was focused on the familiar Dragging Anchors egg, it was not the one to hatch first. Instead it was the much smaller, much more nondescript egg next to it that suddenly burst, seeming to shatter into a hundred pieces with one mighty push of its inhabitant's snout. The glass-smith watched with a startled blink as the little dragon topped forward from its own momentum, and buried itself in the burning hot sands. The journeyman took a step forward, feeling strangely concerned for it. The sands were hot enough beneath his own sandaled feet, he could not imagine what it felt like to be suddenly neck-deep in the searing grains.

Before he could complete that thought, though, two more of the eggs split, one of which revealing an exuberant little hatchling that soon set to work sending showers of sand flying in all directions as it bounced its way about the Hatching Circuit. Allendris squinted, shielding his eyes from the spray of sand with one hand. Shells! Why did so many of his experiences recently end with sand in his hair? Honestly, the young man bemoaned with a quiet, barely audible groan, fingers rising to shake the grit out of his hair, he really--

Just then, a silky, regal voice invaded his mind, interrupting his admittedly somewhat vain thoughts.

You! You will do!

Allendris startled, brown eyes flying wide open and his hand abruptly dropping to his side as he found himself unexpectedly staring into a whirling, rainbow-eyed gaze. The dragonet he had not seen approaching gave that hand a friendly lick, confidently assuring the shocked young journeyman that, indeed, he had not just been imagining this loving new presence suddenly swelling up in a corner of his mind that the man had never realized had been so lonely and vacant, until that very moment. The hatchling perked, its chest puffing with the knowledge that he now held his chosen's full and undivided attention. The little one did not even wait for Allendris to speak. With a toss of its head and a happy rustle of its proudly-poised wings, the newborn dragon began to prance its way off the sands, utterly heedless of how awkward such affectation made its gangly hatchling body look.

Don't look so shocked, the dragonet's smooth voice filtered into his mind again in a tone of gentle but firm command, though the little creature didn't bother to look back. You will be perfect, I am sure of it. Now come feed me, there's nothing of interest left here for us.

As the hatchling's careful but increasingly confident steps carried it off the Hatching Circuit and towards the delicious smell of fresh meat, a dim glow of light finally caught on its smooth, gleaming bronze hide. Allendris thought he might have heard a few gasps from the crowd in the Stands as the clutch's second metallic was revealed to the eager and anxious eyes of the weyrfolk, but he paid them no mind. Everything just seemed so... oddly natural. With his head held high and a very rare grin spread wide on his lips, the glass-smith strode after his regal little bronze without even a single glance back to the unhatched Dragging Anchors egg. "I do believe you're right, Vyaniorth."