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HATCHING
The eggs currently resting on the sands had no single figure watching over
them. They had not been clutched in the traditional sense, and several of
the Weyrs more experienced dams had been taking turns caring for them.
Though it was technically now spring, the air still held a bite of winter
cold, and with the skies still the twilight grey of the pre-morning, the
sun not yet over the horizon, that frosty bite was still very noticeable.
Perfect conditions for the hatching of what the common folk of the Weyr
had taken to calling the ‘Polar Whers’.
Many of the candidates were stomping their feet, blowing on their hands or
rubbing at their ears and noses as they hurried onto the sands, trying to
relieve the sensation of the cold against under protected areas. There
were a fairly distinct split in the group of candidates, between the
larger number brought in by the wher handlers of Dawn Watch, and the
handful who belonged to Polar Wherhold, who had developed a tendency to
stick together in the face of the oddness of the weyr.
The first egg drew everyone’s attention by not so much hatching, as
exploding. Bits of shell went flying and a warm brown wherlet stood among
the wreckage. He looked a little odd compared to the wherlets most were
used to, with his layer of fine fur plastered to his form by the dampness
inside his egg. The wherlet surprised candidates and spectators by bonding
one of the handlers.
Watching this occurrence, many missed the hatching of the next two eggs,
which quietly broke open at almost the same moment, a pair of coppers, one
dark red and the other more orange.
Four eggs shuddered and split open, spilling a green, a blue, a brown and
another bronze onto the sands. The green, bronze and brown bonded quickly.
However, while his fellows were off causing chaos, the
blue was looking worriedly at one of the smallest eggs. He snuffled at one
in particular, seeming to listen closely to it for a time before turning
and heading over to one particular candidate and asking for help. One of
the geneticists provided the necessary awl and the candidate helped the
white wherlet hatch.
In one swift movement, one of the larger
remaining eggs shuddered and then cracked around a silver-toned paw. It
went still for a moment, before the paw withdrew and then slammed back out
again at the edge of the hole, widening it considerably. Now that the
shell’s structural integrity was compromised, it was the work of moments
to completely destroy it, leaving a mottled grey wherlet sitting among the
wreckage. He took a few steps back,
half-turned, and then slammed himself into another egg, knocking it over
to reveal a large hole in the bottom, with a darker toned silver now freed
from the depression underneath. On it’s path downwards, the shell
smacked into two other eggs, breaking apart on impact, but also putting
wide cracks into the other eggs, cracks which the occupants within swiftly
took advantage off. A soft lavender toned purple emerged from one, but her
appearance was largely overlooked in favour of the hatchling from the
other egg, whose deep yellow colouring indicated a queen. A green and
silver wherlet squabbled over a candidate while the other three hatchlings
on the sands made their way in among the candidates.
There were 5 eggs left now, and the anticipation among the candidates had
only grown, especially with two of the hatchlings having chosen to bond to
handlers, and several others bonding in pairs.
Two eggs broke open, revealing an ordinary looking brown and bright red
coloured copper. The two looked at each other and dashed off in opposite
directions. Causing a little stir when the copper hatchling bonded to a
blue elven man after getting permission from his dragon. The eggs had been
tweaked and it showed.
Moments after that bonding, two of the
remaining three eggs broke. One hatchling was a handsome dark brown, and
the other a delicate lemon gold. She made it crystal clear that she would
bond first and wasted no time. With the queen bonded, attention turned to
the brown, and to the single remaining egg. The egg which promptly
crumpled and revealed absolutely nothing inside.
"Hah!
Got you!" A shadow by the side of one of the mostly intact
shells shifted, and a small black coloured wherlet revealed itself by
pouncing upon the brown.
'Get
Off!' The brown complained, as the black wherlet stood atop
him. Even as hatchlings the brown was notably bigger and heavier, and
probably would have had no problems simply throwing the black off him, but
he seemed too polite to do so.
"Fine."
The black said, a little sulkily. "Finding
mine now."
And with that he jumped from the brown’s back and stalked off, leaving
the brown to bond. All attention focused now on
the small black hatchling, who seemed less than pleased at this. He moved
quickly, ignoring most of the candidates, pausing by only a few here and
there, before stopping abruptly in front of a young man in the middle of
the remaining group.
"Terrence."
He spoke the boy’s name clearly. "Am
Terrask. Leave now." And he began to walk away, fully
expecting that Terrence would be following. They did after all belong to
each other now, and where one went the other would always be.
With that final bond made, the hatching was over, the first Polar whers
now out in the world. Only time would tell just how successful the new
strain would be.
The Watching
Shadow White Terrask
Polar Wher
#181818 | #B9B9B9
4' at the shoulder | 12' long
Vigilant | Sneaky | Resolute | Schemer
Mutation: Melanistic – Terrask’s fur is a deep black
ADULT
"Come. Follow." Terrask
insisted as was usually his way of communicating.
Terrence might have been offended if he didn't feel the genuine love the
wher felt for his bond. Though the black-looking, white-classed wher was
far from a good conversationalist, his mind was keen and his demeanour was
straightforward at first glance but often hid deeper motivations.
"Sure, whereto?" Terrence asked who had come to adopt a similar
curt way of speaking to his bond, no less affectionate in the sending of
his words.
"Outside nice."
"I guess that's your way of saying I need some air." Terrence
obliged and shivered as he stepped into the cold air. The year was almost
at an end and the air was crisp and close to freezing. It was nighttime
still, as Terrence had come to stay awake late and sleep in to accommodate
his bond's nocturnal rhythm.
Terrask stepped closer and wrapped his tail and wings around the young
cleric.
"Thank you." Terrence let the wher know.
"I take care." Terrask
beamed.
"And you sniff out the bad guys too."
"They stink." Terrask
answered, scrunching his nose.
"I wouldn't know." Terrence chuckled.
"Okay, time for walk. Now."
Terrask pushed.
Lantessama Isle
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