[G] [C] 731.04.20 | Touching The World Above [GROUP 2 EGG TOUCHING]

G’rem & Blue Remeneth – Weyrling Master

The day was hotter than yesterday, but this was of little concern to G'rem. He was soon to spend thirty minutes on the sharding hot sands, just so the Candidates could see the eggs. If it wasn't tradition he wouldn't do it, it irritated him and the queen on the sands, and would be much easier to avoid her wrath. Unluckily for today's group, Nirinath was feeling quite short of temper. Tapping his stick on the ground he surveyed the group of twelve before him. The Weyrleaders, to whom he gave a sly glance, had deemed the clutch large enough to allow the Candidates to be split into three groups of twelve or thirteen. Which was perfect of course, keeping an eye on a dozen irritating twenty turn olds around a highly-irritable Gold and her eggs was G'rem's idea of a fun afternoon.

"Ahem. Alright. Those of you that were here for the last clutch know how this goes, or I sharding hope you remember anyway! For the rest of you, listen up carefully. If you misbehave or upset Nirinath in any way, you will be escorted out of the Sands and barred from future touchings." G'rem paused, staring at each Candidates with hard eyes.

"You will enter single file, quietly. Pay your respects to the queen. Bowing and thanking her for this privilege," he added, seeing the vacant expressions on some faces. "Then, you can slowly go amongst the eggs. Do not trip, do not stumble, do not move suddenly. We don't know why, but the eggs emit various feelings. They are strong, and shocking. Keep your wits about you and don't recoil sharply. If you damage an egg you will never stand and will be reduce to drudge's work for the rest of your pitiful life."  G'rem paused again, letting his words sink into the Candidates before them. While he had never seen a Candidate damage an egg, he had heard rumours from other Weyrs when they had lived in the North.

Glancing over to Tsuen and D'ren he gave them a short nod, gesturing for them to enter the Sands before leading the Candidates inside.

Inside, Nirinath was poised protectively over the clutch of eighteen. G'rem waited for the Weyrwoman to speak to her Gold and to persuade the 'strange, grimy children' to touch her precious eggs like she did every clutch. At Tsuen's signal, he let the Candidates proceed forward, watching them like a hawk as they approached the eggs.

---

Alrighty guys, here's how it goes down! Get your Candidate in, and pick one egg per post. Feel free to interact with the NPCs in passing! Once you've picked an egg, you'll get a reply from Katila Weyr detailing what the egg feels like to your character. Once everyone has picked one, you can pick a second! We may go to a third, depends how we're going for time. Make sure you head over to the Egg Bets thread and post your bets on what's in each egg!

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Played by Featherpirate

Naturally, Allendris found himself at the front of the line of Candidates as usual. Such was the burden of bearing a name that started with A, though he felt some relief at the fact that in this instance, there was one other young man in front of him. Not that he usually minded being the de-facto leader of things, but in this instance even he could admit that despite their weeks of lessons regarding dragons and weyr life, now that he was standing in front of the massive gold beast known as Nirinath, he had absolutely no idea how and where to proceed. Mercifully, G'rem had kept his instructions as gruff and easy-to-understand as always: get in. Pay the dragon your dues. Don't break anything.

Keenly, the young glass-smith watched the boy whose name he didn't quite remember (but apparently also started with A) go through the required motions first. Nothing extravagant happened; Nirinath seemed haughty and irritable, but the young man proceeded towards the eggs without getting eaten. This bolstered Allendris's confidence somewhat. Cautiously, he approached the testy-looking gold, with a well-practiced bow of deference. When G'rem had instructed them to thank the dragon for the privilege of viewing her eggs, Allendris hadn't been sure he could say the words with any sincerity. After all, he had never asked to come to this weyr, nor had he ever once in his life entertained the notion of abandoning his craft and hard-earned rank for such a fantastic purpose as becoming a dragonrider. And yet... there was something about that room, or else something that he read into the stern yet oddly anxious looks on the riders' faces, or perhaps even in the regal poise of the mother dragon as she curled protectively over her clutch, that changed his mind. "Thank you for this rare opportunity to view your eggs, Queen Nirinath," he said, finding it momentarily odd to be addressing an animal with the same tone of humility and respect that he might have used to flatter a Lord Holder.

Unlike with those fat, rich politicians, however, this time there was nothing artificial about the note of awe that quieted his voice as he spoke, and that surprised even himself.

Having thus addressed the dragon, the glass-smith proceeded towards the clutch as instructed. Allendris was no stranger to hot sands, having lived most of his life on Ista. These sands, however, were almost unbearable, and he could feel the heat seeping even through the thick leather of his boots as he slowly stepped towards the eggs and quietly regarded each one with a sort of wide-eyed, childish curiosity that he hadn't felt in years. It hit him, for perhaps the first time since coming to the Weyr, that these were dragon eggs! Real live dragon eggs, from real live dragons - a species he'd spent most of his young life firmly believing was extinct! The usually composed young man felt a strange panic come over him as he reconsidered G'rem's stern warning that they were not to damage the eggs. What if he did?! These were the last dragon eggs on all of Pern! He would hate to be the man who put the entire species at risk simply by tripping and falling into the fragile-looking shells.

Foolishly, he counted them; the exact number was there, just as promised. As they were the second group to visit the clutch, that meant a full dozen Candidates had gone through the Touching without having caused any drastic problems. Perhaps the eggs were not as fragile as they looked... he hoped. Still, Allendris felt uneasy as he knelt beside the largest and sturdiest looking egg. Were he not so preoccupied with forcing from his mind the nerve-wracking memory of the kitchen workers cracking rows upon rows of chicken eggs at a breakfast not too long ago, he might have paused a moment to admire the mottled browns and reds of its gently pebbled surface. This, however - the Dragging Anchors egg - was no chicken egg. Allendris understood this immediately once his fingers had touched its surprisingly hard and warm shell.

Jereken was happy to have seen a few people go up before him, the gold dragon seemed a lot larger when you had to actually speak to her than when you were watching her from a distance. And seeing her with the eggs reinforced the idea that without her, if anything happened to this one essential creature, the dragons would really be gone forever.

Back home, that hadn't seemed like such a bad thing. Sad, obviously, but there hadn't been Thread for generations, and he'd only seen the dragons when their riders came to barter goods. He'd been too young to be part of a tithe train or to be formally invited to stand before a Search dragon, and then they'd all vanished.

Coming out of his daze to realise that there weren't many candidates left to choose, he stepped forward, deliberately putting his hands flat by his sides to avoid fidgetting. Bowing to the dragon, he spoke in a clear voice, but not too loudly "Queen Nirinath, thank you for allowing me to come near to your beautiful eggs." Straightening up, he nodded his head in a smaller version of his bow in the vague direction of the weyrleaders before walking across the hot sands to the eggs.

How could you choose just one to look at? And what exactly could you possibly do to damage them? Maybe if you could get feelings from them, they could get them from you and be upset? Trying to think only positive thoughts and with a rather silly forced smile on his face, Jereken stopped beside the Strong Soldiers egg and knelt down. Just in case the bad thing was to talk to them, he gently bit his lower lip as a reminder to stay silent.

Dragging Anchors Egg
The second Allendris touches the Dragging Anchors egg an immense weight slams onto his shoulders, like a massive dragon has placed their entire weight there. Rattling hisses echo in his ears, quiet at first but gradually becoming louder and louder. The world begins to dim, appearing darker and darker as the egg tugs at Allendris's hand. The feelings are close to being on a boat in a ferocious storm in the night, with the tugging and hisses like tossing waves. The feeling is strangely addictive, inspiring strong thoughts that you cannot let go of the egg. As if the egg needs protection in the storm.

Strong Soldiers Egg
As Jereken knelt beside the Strong Soldiers egg, memories begin to slowly come to the front of his mind. When his hands touch the shell, these become strong and vibrant. The memories that float to the forefront of his mind are assorted, both crushing and joyful in nature. Some of the memories are obvious major points in his life; his mother's death, his succession to senior apprentice and then junior journeyman and of course, his kidnapping. It also brings up strange little oddities; when he couldn't find his left shoe, found a pretty flower and one time he saw wild runners running freely. If Jereken keeps his hand on the egg until the memories stop, he would be rewarded with a loving, soothing warmth throughout his entire body.

Maybe tucking his lip between his teeth had been a bad plan before touching an egg, Jereken thought as he tasted the salty tang of blood. Not having brought a cloth onto the sands, and wanting to avoid getting any on his sleeve or shirt, he wiped his mouth with the back of his other hand, not breaking contact with the egg.  As the memories flicker through his mind, his muscles tense and relax, until finally the soothing warmth floats through him.

As the loving feeling faded, Jereken took his hand slowly from the egg - the warning from G'rem about jumping back too quickly now makes a lot more sense - and kneels back in the sand, absently wiping his mouth again, but this time leaving a small streak of blood across his chin.

That was an intense few minutes, he thought, and looked around to see what reactions the other candidates have had to their own egg experiences, but couldn't see anyone's face. Twisting around, he can see the weyrlingmaster and decides to wait for his signal to stand - some people were after him and are still touching the eggs, while others are sitting back like he is.

Thinking about the touching while waiting for someone to speak, he wonders if it is allowed to touch the same egg again, and if so, if the experience would be different. The physical side of it was a little different from his expectations, the purely tactile feel of the shell was different from chicken's eggs, and it felt tougher, in a strange way.

Allendris gasped as the full 'weight' of the egg hit him, muscles tensing as if he meant to immediately recoil from the alien and not at all pleasant sensation of the strange, disembodied roaring of the sea in his ears. Just in time, G'rem's warning flashed to the forefront of his mind - do not move suddenly, do not recoil sharply - and, for better or for worse, the craftsman surged gently forward, placing both hands on the egg as he forced himself to relax somehow even as the world around him dimmed alarmingly. It felt almost as if he were in two places at once, his physical body there on the Hatching Grounds, the heat of the egg still on his hands, while his spirit rocked helplessly to and fro as if tossed about by dark, crashing waves.

For all that the image was frightening to him, Allendris nevertheless felt an overwhelming urge to curl his body over that egg and protect it from the fierce storms that surrounded the two of them. He wanted to protect it - in fact, he felt as if he were the only man in that room capable of bearing the overwhelming weight even now pressing on his shoulders. This egg, this fierce, indestructible, tempestuous egg... it needed him?

When the vision finally broke, the journeyman rocked back on his heels, breathing deeply as he attempted to collect his thoughts. That had been... truly overwhelming. For a man whose mind had barely been touched by dragon-speech, to have his thoughts so suddenly and thoroughly taken over by the intimidatingly strong being inside that egg... well, Allendris felt as if he would be sorting out what had just happened to him for a full sevenday, at least. Yet, the experience had imbued him with an undeniable new-found respect for the eggs and the infant creatures still developing within their shells. How could he have so underestimated their strength?

The heat of the day reminded Volfetti of being at home in the North in summer, out on the ocean where the water doubled the temperature. She was clad in many light layers of fabric, but had dug out a pair of extremely thick-soled boots and though you couldn't see it, her knees were wrapped repeatedly with bandages. She wasn't stupid, she remembered the burns she had gotten on her knees last clutch. That definitely wasn't happening again. Despite this, the bandages and boots were highly uncomfortable to her, and she was shifting where she stood already.

G'rem's speech was much the same as the previous Weyrling Master's, but with more gruff and less words. Her mind wandered to Benden, who had been given to the creche for the afternoon. Her body still showed plenty of baby weight… but with the clutch due to hatch at the end of the season, she was able to Impress, if she so chose to stand. At the moment she was completely at a loss to do, now was the moment to decide.

The Candidates began to walk in. She was second last in the line, though with a quick gesture she let Yuhannam shuffle on before her. Still swaying slightly she stared into the Hatching Circuit. G'rem and the Weyrleaders would be waiting on her, but could she really do this? Benden would have to be palmed off for the potential dragon that she could Impress, new Weyrlings had no time for children.

Child, or dragon?

Dragon, or child?

A great shuddering sigh escaped her as she shook her head at G'rem. He had spoken to her a few days ago, to give her time to make the decision before she would have to act upon it. He would understand what the gesture meant and could proceed to keep his watchful eye on the Candidates without waiting for her. Crouching down she unlaced the boots and slipped her feet out, wriggling her crooked toes with delight. Next she began to unwrap the bandages she had so carefully put on not so long ago. Benden's father had little to no interest in raising the child, entering the Sands went against every moral engrained in Volfetti.

This time, child.

Oh yeah. This was nice. Farlint was wearing the requisite clothing today, not wanting to scandalize the Weyrwoman. Or the gold dragon who was entirely capable of chewing him up and spitting him back to Keroon. It was a nice, hot, sunny day. Farlint's blood was pumping, he'd gotten laid, snuck a mouthful of Benden and now he got to touch him some dragon eggs. Hoo-boy! He'd been curious what dragons felt like as a child and an Apprentice. Were they leathery, like they said? Were they soft? Were their eggs hard like a wherry egg, or leathery? Well, here was his chance to find out!

He put his elbow up tight, took a step with the right, tilted his head to the side and smiled real, real wide at the Dragon and the Weyrwoman. Smiles made everyone feel better! "I just wanna say, Nirinath, that I really appreciate the opportunity to come here today and admire the fruits of your labor. They look gorgeous. And so do you. You've got that motherly glow about you, that- It's just gorgeous." He gave her a thumbs up.

Candidates were spreading out already, and he moved to join them. He liked the look of this one: It had some whitish-greens, all swirly like, and some white spots at the tip. And it was big. He liked that. Moving to the Endless Romps Egg, he reached out and laid a hand on it, wondering just what it felt like.

Endless Romps Egg
The egg beneath Farlint's hand was almost leathery. It was hard and could take a slight amount of pressure, but of course, nobody wants to chance breaking a dragon egg. There were tiny bumps on the surface of the Endless Romps egg, they were soft and pleasant to touch. Farlint didn't get much of a chance to actually register the physical feeling of the egg however, as reams of energy flowed into him. The egg coaxed him in, encouraging Farlint to come with it, to go on a journey with it's inhabitant. Images of rolling fields filled with tall grass and blooming flowers filled his mind, the inhabitant projected a colourless baby dragon into it, frolicking and jumping about gleefully. Come jump with me, it seemed to say, shining eyes encouraging Farlint to join it.

That was a strange feeling. It was leathery, kind of like a hide, but it was wrapped around something firm.

Heh. Firm. (Maybe he'd had more than one mouthful of the Benden.)

It was a good thing he was already jazzed, because if he hadn't been before, he sure was now. Farlint, as well as the other Candidates, had been warned that Dragons could share emotions. Been warned that they could share feelings, like a mental thing. In the head. But this was kind of like he imagined eating one of those special mushrooms was like. A real doozy. Come jump with you? "Yeeeeessssssss!" he leaned in, rubbing his cheek against the egg.

It had to be a girl. Or the best bro ever.

It was with great reluctance (and because he thought he was getting one awful glare, cause his spine was tingling) that he let go of the egg, reaching out with his mind to try and reply to the dragonet with the strong sensation of WE WILL ROMP. And then he jumped away from the egg, invigorated. This was good. This was nice.

This was auspicious.

He stared around at the other eggs, pondering. Decisions were so hard, when a man had so many options. It was like trying to pick between a lot of pretty women at a Gather. Which one did he want to dance with? However, decisions had to be made, and st-romping- his way over the sands, Farlint laid his hands on a second egg. It was a whitey-grey color, nice and large, just like the other one. Was it awesome too?

((Bombardment Egg))

Bombardment Egg
In comparison to the Endless Romps egg, this one was not nice, lovely or kind in any way shape or form. Even the shell felt more like tiny thorn than smooth lumps. The inhabitant battered out at Farlint with a fierce aggression. Though the egg wasn't physically attacking him, it sure felt that way, with slaps, kicks and punches being lathered on with layer after layer. Along with this brutal assault, heat rose from the egg, or was Farlint just realising the heat of the sands now that his hands lay on a more brutal egg. It would be no surprise if he stumbled backwards from it's bombardment.

Allendris felt equal parts shaken and bolstered by his first egg-touching experience. On the one hand, the image and feelings the still developing dragon had projected into his mind had been so very clear and realistic that his body still trembled from the flood of adrenaline brought about by the strange sensation that he had just been pitched forward into the stormy ocean from a capsizing boat. On the other hand, there had been something oddly addictive about that feeling, as well as the knowledge that he had connected on some level with such a powerful other-mind... and survived completely unscathed. The egg, as well, had proven firm and sturdy beyond his initial imaginings, and any fear he might have had of inadvertently cracking those marbled and mottled shells with just an ill-placed touch of his soft, human hand had been eliminated from his mind.

He saw some of the other Candidates beginning to touch their second eggs, now. Feeling clear-headed and confident in a way he hadn't thought possible just minutes before when he'd first walked onto those burning hot sands, Allendris glanced about him. Beside him lay another egg, pale grey, average in size and non-descript in almost every other imaginable way. The other eggs he could guess, from the colors and patterns that swirled around their shells, what color dragon might lay inside. Of course, it was just inexperience that led the glass-smith to immediately correlate green shells with future green hides with a false sense of sureness. Regardless, this egg's lack of distinctive markings had him curious about what sort of dragon might be waiting inside. That interest was fitting, for this was the Tip Of The Curiousity egg. Allendris reached out to touch it.

Seeing other candidates moving around, Jereken stood, knees a little more shaky than he had reallised, then walked across towards the grey swirls of the Slow Journey egg.. Kneeling down in the sand beside it, he reached out with the other hand, a little more hesitant since his previous experience.

This was a disappointment. This egg wasn't as soft as the other one, and it certainly didn't want to romp. No, this egg was brutal, and mean, and kicked and bit and chomped at his mind, like a runner who was really, really angry. Far'd been through worse, but that didn't mean he liked it any. Still, he had to get his jibe in. "Hey you, I've had wherries kick me harder than- ow!" He yipped, hopping back from the egg as though he'd been pushed. That one hurt, and it wasn't even physical. "You sharding little nugget." He muttered the words low, rubbing his bum as he stepped (forcefully) away from the lumpy, hot little egg. He hoped it roasted in there, and then they could eat it.

Tip Of The Curiosity Egg
In comparison to the Dragging Anchors egg, this egg was so quiet, it almost felt like nothing to Allendris. It takes quite a while for anything to register, and even then whether or not Allendris realised it as the egg or himself was another thing all together. A burning feeling rose within his core, a distinct feeling of curiosity flying along with it. The curiosity wound up through his throat before sliding back down and pooling in his belly.

Slow Journey Egg
Similar to the Tip Of The Curiosity egg, the Slow Journey egg felt extremely quiet. Minutes passed before a gentle presence reached out the Jereken, like a hand. It seemed to take Jereken's hand in its own, tugging gently. Willingly being taken, he departed with the egg's inhabitant on a journey. There were no images nor locations, but his body and mind felt as if it were leaving, travelling throughout the world. It was a strange sensation, as if his soul had been lifted out of his body and he was floating along. Much time had passed before the feelings of returning home entered Jereken's mind, lethargy and tired excitement. Contentedly the inhabitant let Jereken return to the sands completely, the farewell was sweet, but sad.

To be honest, Breccan wasn't paying the man up front much attention at all. Fortunately, she'd perfected her dutiful listening face Turns ago. Instead, she was mulling over one of the boys in her group, whose face she'd caught a glimpse of when he'd half-turned a moment ago. She could have sworn she knew him, yet she couldn't pin a name to the face. Such lapses in memory were vexing. Usually she had a superb memory for names and faces.

Mmm, perhaps he hadn't been very important. While she preferred to remember everyone she came across, if someone very clearly didn't matter, she would typically save herself the mental storage space. Tuning in to the man, she heard something about damaging the eggs, and promptly tuned back out. As if they could. What research she'd managed to do since 'earning' her freedom from the island was pretty conclusive on that point. The general consensus was that they were ovoid fortresses and the mother would doubtless consume anyone who tried. Breccan was many things, but she was not eager to be eaten.

She was close to the front of the line, and stepped forward when it was her turn. Her bow had the grace of long practice, a result of her upbringing, and as she straightened she ensured her features were schooled into lines of solemn awe. In truth...well, in truth, she was in awe. Dragons weren't even real, and here was one, an enormous Gold towering over a group of nervous kids. Those inert shells scattered all over the sand were her children, and the only hope the Weyr had. Strange, that they should be in her hands.

It wouldn't do her any good at all to harm any of them, and she wasn't planning on it. She had no quarrel with these people and their way of life, so long as they let her live hers. At some point. "Thank you, Nirinath," she said simply, guessing the sentiment was more important to the dragon than the words. Perhaps she should have used her title....but it was too late now.

Stepping forward, she moved slowly, giving herself a chance to look over the shells. They were mostly pale, but as she neared them, she had no trouble telling them apart. The larger ones were supposed to be more desirable, she knew, but actually Impressing would ruin her plans. No, she would stick to the smaller shells, as much as possible. No one had touched a smallish one with cream marbling its base, and she headed in that direction, preferring not to wait for an earlier Candidate to touch. Besides, it was entirely possible that earlier touches marred later reactions, yes?

The egg was very still as she approached, just as it had been the entirety of her time here. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind an ear, she reflected that she was better off than some of the others, having grown up in Ista. True, that heat couldn't compare with this, but it was familiar enough that she wasn't sweating with every pore. In fact, she was sort of comfortable, for now. And...she still wasn't touching the egg. That fact flashed across her mind accompanied with a mild sense of bewilderment. Why hadn't she just stuck a hand on the shell and been done with it?

Well, because that felt wrong. Hmm. This bore further thought. For now, though, she didn't have the luxury of time to consider why she felt almost shy in front of this large, inanimate object, or why there was a flutter of anticipation in her belly. Maybe it was what that man with the outlandish name had said: something about strong impressions. Would the dragon inside know everything about her, just from one touch? The thought wasn't pleasant. Perhaps it would know she didn't want to be here. Or that she wasn't sure why she felt a little excited to be here. Such mental division was not common for Breccan, and her brows drew towards one another as she took a final step towards the waiting shell. Nothing for it; she simply placed her hand lightly against the Cool Façades Egg and trusted nothing terrible would happen.

Cool Façades Egg
Breccan's expectation that nothing terrible would happen was partially rewarded. While the egg didn't respond to her light touch with explosions, a between-like cold or some kind of vast dislike, it wasn't particularly pleasant. There is a definite wall placed up between the egg's inhabitant and Breccan, more than the thick shell physically between them. The only emotion that passes through this wall is anger. It isn't loud or large, but it bristles beneath her hand, clear that it's there, and it doesn't approve of her. It almost seems like the egg is sick of this petty routine and wants to be left alone.

Hmm. Something was wrong. G'rem had taken the time to warn them that reactions from the Eggs would be strong enough to be shocking, and some of the faces around her certainly looked shocked. Instead, she felt...oh, there was something.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the sensation. It was like there was a barrier between herself and the creature communicating inside, but there was something coming through. Breccan was surprised to find it was anger. The shell positively bristled with disapproval, a total lack of welcome. She was taken aback by that. Was she just not meant for a dragon? This one, at least, did not want her, there was no doubt in her mind about it. There wasn't the slightest flicker of interest in who she was.

As she removed her hand hurriedly, she faced a chilling thought. The dragons were telepathic; they probably knew everything about you from a single touch, in a few moments. And this one just didn't like her. Perhaps they could not all be expected to react positively, but this was so unpleasant. The anger wasn't even strong, it was just a disinterested objection to who she was. The whole experience was, well, discouraging. Stepping away from the pale shell, she glanced toward G'rem, then Nirinath. Would it be taken as an insult if she simply left? She didn't know if she could stand another reaction like that, another rejection of her whole being. It was too close, too much like the fear of abandonment she knew she struggled with, and too like hurt for her to want to repeat the experience.

A second glance at G'rem convinced her. She could not leave. She could only try not to take it personally. Perhaps this one just wasn't for her. Perhaps one of the others were. Trying to strangle the feeling of disappointment in her belly, she moved almost blindly to another shell. This one was much darker, a blue-gray very unlike the last one. Unlike seemed better.

Moving just as hesitantly as she had for the first, she stepped up to the Empty Rooms Egg, placing her palm lightly against the curve of the shell. She closed her grey eyes, all but praying to the mute shell that she wouldn't be so summarily rejected a second time. She wasn't sure she could handle that.

Empty Rooms Egg
The egg felt Breccan's presence as she neared, felt her disappointment at its sibling's rejection of her. It shivered beneath her touch, a faint sound much like a high-pitched cackle reaching her ears. It wasn't the only sound the inhabitant brought to her however. At first it was soft, barely distinguishable from the general buzz of daily activities. It didn't take long for it to override the other noises though. Thump thump thump thump. A beat, four strikes in quick succession. Then a pause. Thump thump thump thump. Again. The beat repeated itself, it was quite similar to a drum beat, or someone idly tapping while awaiting something. Thump thump thump thump. The noise grew louder and louder the longer Breccan touched the egg, with a soft smugness filling the gaps between the beats. The egg was enjoying it, creating repetitive madness.

---

The touching is now closed, please do not touch more eggs, though feel free to react to them still.

Breccan waited, her stomach a tight knot within her. After a moment, the egg shivered. She nearly started away from the shell; movements were not to be expected. The knowledge that Nirinath would no doubt take it personally if she abruptly leaped away from one of her enshelled children kept her still, waiting. There was a sound like laughter, but it was not pleasant. Despite the heat, Breccan almost felt cold with dread.

Softly, she heard thumping. For a moment, she thought it was coming from within, but realized when no answering sensation vibrated through her fingertips that it was purely mental. Again, and again, getting louder, and there was something in between, a satisfaction, almost a sense of superiority. The girl wanted nothing more than to be away, but something kept her there, until the thumping was booming painfully through her skull.

Finally, she tore her hand away. For a moment she was surprised that everything around her was so normal, so exactly the same, and blinked, bemused. She felt different. One egg had rejected everything she was. The other had been utterly mad. Suddenly, her hopes for this clutch were very small.

The call to leave couldn't come soon enough.