10.Jul.23, 10:23 PM
For the first time since he had come to the Weyr -- even this new Weyr -- Ereben was nervous.
His palms were sweaty, the kind of sweat that would have made him drop things or slip during a climb. He hated it. Hated, hated, hated it. He tried to breathe normally but it just seemed to catch in his throat. He hated that too.
This wasn't it it. This wasn't the Hatching, but the seeing the eggs arranged haphazardly about the warm sands with the gold dragon guarding them just had this unexpected effect. Like, made it all real. Yeah, he could do chores all day, help wash dragons, slog through stupid classes, all that. But this...this was real. This was a real step on the path he had lied to a dragonrider to get on.
So, while most of the Candidates strode forward to touch the mottled shells, Ereben hung back for an apprehensive moment, his dark eyes rapidly observing everything he could so that he didn't do the wrong thing. Because he had a feeling that doing the wrong thing now might actually really get him kicked out of the Weyr and he didn't want that at all.
He let the leaders lead and then quickly copied their example, picking out an egg that no one had approached yet and striding over to it as though he knew exactly what to do. He had been told that the eggs were leathery to start but became harder as time went on. Where would they be on that scale now?
Only one way to find out.
Ereben extended his hands, placing them squarely on the egg, remembering how R'dare had said that sometimes the hatchling within was picky or unhappy, and he hoped that was doing all of this right.
egg #5
His palms were sweaty, the kind of sweat that would have made him drop things or slip during a climb. He hated it. Hated, hated, hated it. He tried to breathe normally but it just seemed to catch in his throat. He hated that too.
This wasn't it it. This wasn't the Hatching, but the seeing the eggs arranged haphazardly about the warm sands with the gold dragon guarding them just had this unexpected effect. Like, made it all real. Yeah, he could do chores all day, help wash dragons, slog through stupid classes, all that. But this...this was real. This was a real step on the path he had lied to a dragonrider to get on.
So, while most of the Candidates strode forward to touch the mottled shells, Ereben hung back for an apprehensive moment, his dark eyes rapidly observing everything he could so that he didn't do the wrong thing. Because he had a feeling that doing the wrong thing now might actually really get him kicked out of the Weyr and he didn't want that at all.
He let the leaders lead and then quickly copied their example, picking out an egg that no one had approached yet and striding over to it as though he knew exactly what to do. He had been told that the eggs were leathery to start but became harder as time went on. Where would they be on that scale now?
Only one way to find out.
Ereben extended his hands, placing them squarely on the egg, remembering how R'dare had said that sometimes the hatchling within was picky or unhappy, and he hoped that was doing all of this right.
egg #5