Egg Touching

[meah]

((Because Felina'll kill me if I don't put SOMETHING in here. Here's Andy, everybody))

Andy walked over, bowing to the wonderful queen dragon. He then looked at the eggs, his eyes filled with glee and ran his hands softly over the Soft Falling Snow Egg.

[D'gellin]

Much as she would have loved to stay in the warm presence of the proud egg, Trilia knew she needed to keep moving. It wasn't right to mooch off of the promise that mind seemed to assure. She shook her head clear of the emotions and turned away, albiet grudgingly. But once she was free of the spell, Trilia was keenly aware of all the fasinations of the other eggs as well. Her smile returned as she offered a mock bow for the next mind she explored. The Softly Falling Snow Egg was both beautiful in appearance and mind. Butterfly fingers brushed over the shell, infatuated. Another bringer of reassurance. And just as lovely. Another grudging turn led Trilia to the Meteor Shower Egg. Her eyes brightened instantly.

Hands as gentle and reverent as someone, well, touching a dragon egg, Trilia sifted through the emotions. She was surprised to find herself so mentally filled with warmth that tears were building in her eyes. But it wasn't until she carefully ran a hand along the Hailstorm Egg that the tears broke through. Not from happiness but rather surprise. She furrowed her brows in distress at the harsh blow of cool emotion, like little invisible stabs at her resolve. She stopped the tears fast but not without loosing her high first. "Right, sorry." She mummbled thickly, tilting her head in abashed bewilderment and giving the egg one last puposefuly touch before moving on. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the sand...

As Penna's face aquired that eerie blank fog that Fallen was beginning to recognize as a rider talking to their dragon, he averted his gaze. Something about it unnerved him. Like everything else in this blisteringly hot dome. Shaffit, he could feel the heat leaking into his boots the longer he stood there. Fallen candidly shifted his feet, trying to find cooler sand. Futile. He sighed, then shifted back to attention as Penna addressed him again.

What she said silenced him with surprise. For a moment all he could do was blink as he collected his thoughts together, struggling for a safe reply. Those teeth were looking particularly menacing now that he was within snapping range...But there was little way to put 'I don't like your babies' delicately. - He licked his lips convulsively as his mind raced. - Well, it wasn't so much that he didn't like the dragons. Dragons would be fine on their own. It was what they represented that he found repelling. - It was getting difficult to keep himself from scowling in frustration. - Fallen didn't like - no rather, he loathed - what the Weyr was doing. Leeching off of the Holders without giving them anything in return.

Protection from thread? Fallen gave a mental snort of disdain. Thread no longer fell. Thread would never fall again. Thread was gone. It was an empty compensation for the Holders' hard work. The Weyr had able-bodied men but what did they do? They strutted around the Weyr living the good life while the people who provided for them lived the lives of martyrs for the undeserving. This went against all of Fallen's embedded principles. And the last thing he wanted was to be part of this deluded scheme. "I mean no disrespect." Fallen said at length through a tight jaw, his fists mimiking the tension at his sides as he fought with his temper. "But I do not want to be a dragonrider." He said flatly.

Once he was started, Fallen was sorely tempted to press on. To rant, to fight, to scream, to say and act out everything that he'd always clipped short at the very last moment since coming here. Say what you need to but never step too far. He did want to survive this horrible place after all. He wasn't suicidal. His fingernails dug into his skin as his fists tightened against the urge to explode. Instead, he took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. He just had to survive the Hatching. Then he'd be out of here. "You wouldn't want me as one either." He added with a bitter smile. There. Temper's weren't so hard, now were they? He wondered where Q'tris had gotten to. Punching his nose in was sounding tempting again with rebellion bottled up in his system.