Post by **Auria (etc)** on Jul 28, 2008 22:17:28 GMT -5
The sands rumbled and burned. They burned because, well, they were hatching sands. They rumbled because the enormous golden dragon was complaining, stomping, digging, shifting, growling, and griping with earthquake intensity.
Penna and Plianth had moved into the Hatching Grounds days ago -- for Plianth had grown so huge with egg that her rider had decided it best to move her while she could still move. The corner of the sands the golden queen had chosen for her dining area were littered with the bones and hide of her latest meal ... six fat herd beasts and a wherry. Penna had demanded that other dragons hunt for her darling, for of course Plianth was in far too delicate a condition to exert herself in such dangerous activity.
The Senior Weyrlings had taken to casting Penna glaring looks and one young woman -- Rav-something or other with a puny green -- had even dared to complain that her dragon had hardly had time to hunt for itself. The nerve! As if anything in the Weyr were more important than her Only and the clutch of eggs that were soon to be buried in those hot sands!
She would have to talk to the Weyrleader about that Ravy girl!
Plianth circled and circled, pounding the sands, digging them up again, moving and shifting them. Penna was afraid the dragon would waste away to nothing with all of the ceaseless activity. All day and night she'd nested, torn down and nested again, never satisfied. She'd only rested long enough to eat.
Penna was exhausted and almost as ornery as her dragon, having had very little sleep. And she'd rung for the drudges to bring her a snack thirty candlemarks ago ... and no tray had arrived!
The queenrider minced across the sands, as even thick boots would not hold back their heat. She reached the tall pile that Plianth had most recently formed as a nest, with the intent to offer comfort.
The dragon turned and snapped the air in front of her rider's face.
"Plianth! Now don't you be so nasty!"
Plianth's only response was to roar and kick enough sand toward her rider to bury Penna up to her pudgy calves!
As Penna attempted to extricate herself from the pile of hot sand, Plianth groaned and grunted on the mound above. The rider had just hauled her left boot out of its trap, when something hit her in the legs and knocked her on her bottom!
"Aaaah, hot! Hot!" she cried, and struggled to rise ... until she realized what had struck her.
An egg.
A hot, still wet and sticky, egg of the most ....
.... amazing
......... hue
The fact that her buns were blistering totally left Penna's mind as she stared at the wonderful miracle before her. Never had she seen such a beautiful sight.
And then, a great golden head, screaming in motherly protectiveness, darted toward her, shoved her away from the egg, picked it up with a tenderness that belied the rage that sparked in her eyes, and returned it to the nest.
"Okay, okay," Penna squeaked as she darted backward in a crabwalk across the sands. She reached the edge, and blew on her scalded hands. "I'll just leave you to the task, then!"
Penna called for first aid, and ice and medicated creams were brought to her. The burns were not bad, and tended to swiftly. Penna spent the rest of that night on her toes, stretching her neck, trying with pained curiosity to see what progress her Beloved was making. But Plianth, high on her mound, was secretive in her task, burying each egg gently as it was laid, covering it with the hot sands, where it could harden in safety.
All night the dragon worked, and all night Penna stayed awake, barely sitting, never sleeping, dying to know how many, to see the eggs, to even feel the touch of her dragon's mind.
But Plianth's task was a solitary one, and she was keeping her clutch to herself. Penna felt abandoned, even though she was only a dragonlength away from the nest. The silence pained her soul, and she longed to be a part of this momentous task.
Finally, as dawn was filtering in through the high opening to the hatching caverns, and Penna was nearly falling asleep on her feet, a soft thought touched her heart.
There. Maginificent. I am very tired. I love you, Mine.
And as Plianth wrapped her great golden body around the mound of sand that hid her precious treasure, she wrapped her love around her rider's heart, and fell immediately and deeply asleep.
"I love you too, my Only One," the rider replied in a whisper, and ducked into the little sleeping alcove to seek some rest of her own.
Penna and Plianth had moved into the Hatching Grounds days ago -- for Plianth had grown so huge with egg that her rider had decided it best to move her while she could still move. The corner of the sands the golden queen had chosen for her dining area were littered with the bones and hide of her latest meal ... six fat herd beasts and a wherry. Penna had demanded that other dragons hunt for her darling, for of course Plianth was in far too delicate a condition to exert herself in such dangerous activity.
The Senior Weyrlings had taken to casting Penna glaring looks and one young woman -- Rav-something or other with a puny green -- had even dared to complain that her dragon had hardly had time to hunt for itself. The nerve! As if anything in the Weyr were more important than her Only and the clutch of eggs that were soon to be buried in those hot sands!
She would have to talk to the Weyrleader about that Ravy girl!
Plianth circled and circled, pounding the sands, digging them up again, moving and shifting them. Penna was afraid the dragon would waste away to nothing with all of the ceaseless activity. All day and night she'd nested, torn down and nested again, never satisfied. She'd only rested long enough to eat.
Penna was exhausted and almost as ornery as her dragon, having had very little sleep. And she'd rung for the drudges to bring her a snack thirty candlemarks ago ... and no tray had arrived!
The queenrider minced across the sands, as even thick boots would not hold back their heat. She reached the tall pile that Plianth had most recently formed as a nest, with the intent to offer comfort.
The dragon turned and snapped the air in front of her rider's face.
"Plianth! Now don't you be so nasty!"
Plianth's only response was to roar and kick enough sand toward her rider to bury Penna up to her pudgy calves!
As Penna attempted to extricate herself from the pile of hot sand, Plianth groaned and grunted on the mound above. The rider had just hauled her left boot out of its trap, when something hit her in the legs and knocked her on her bottom!
"Aaaah, hot! Hot!" she cried, and struggled to rise ... until she realized what had struck her.
An egg.
A hot, still wet and sticky, egg of the most ....
.... amazing
......... hue
The fact that her buns were blistering totally left Penna's mind as she stared at the wonderful miracle before her. Never had she seen such a beautiful sight.
And then, a great golden head, screaming in motherly protectiveness, darted toward her, shoved her away from the egg, picked it up with a tenderness that belied the rage that sparked in her eyes, and returned it to the nest.
"Okay, okay," Penna squeaked as she darted backward in a crabwalk across the sands. She reached the edge, and blew on her scalded hands. "I'll just leave you to the task, then!"
Penna called for first aid, and ice and medicated creams were brought to her. The burns were not bad, and tended to swiftly. Penna spent the rest of that night on her toes, stretching her neck, trying with pained curiosity to see what progress her Beloved was making. But Plianth, high on her mound, was secretive in her task, burying each egg gently as it was laid, covering it with the hot sands, where it could harden in safety.
All night the dragon worked, and all night Penna stayed awake, barely sitting, never sleeping, dying to know how many, to see the eggs, to even feel the touch of her dragon's mind.
But Plianth's task was a solitary one, and she was keeping her clutch to herself. Penna felt abandoned, even though she was only a dragonlength away from the nest. The silence pained her soul, and she longed to be a part of this momentous task.
Finally, as dawn was filtering in through the high opening to the hatching caverns, and Penna was nearly falling asleep on her feet, a soft thought touched her heart.
There. Maginificent. I am very tired. I love you, Mine.
And as Plianth wrapped her great golden body around the mound of sand that hid her precious treasure, she wrapped her love around her rider's heart, and fell immediately and deeply asleep.
"I love you too, my Only One," the rider replied in a whisper, and ducked into the little sleeping alcove to seek some rest of her own.
