- The Spilled Ink Egg to Aranrod
"One thing I have learned from your siblings is that the wait is worse for you than it is for us. I hadn't realized that before. I wish that we could come here every day so that at least you wouldn't all feel lonely in your shells, though I imagine that your mother does a good job of keeping you company. We are all waiting and preparing for you, we wish you could come out of your shells today, too."
You feel the egg is instantly interested in you. "Aren't you a talker?"
You feel amusement. "I think it would be wonderful if you could come every day until I am free of this shell. It is bad, but...I mean...what can we do? It is a necessary boredom. Yes, she is wonderful."
There is respect and adoration in their "voice". "We will come when it is the perfect time. Don't you worry. Until then....boredom it is."
Aranrod was delighted at the sense of interest and amusement she got from the egg, but also....torn. Part of her really wanted to stay with this egg, and so she definitely spent longer with it, enjoying the feelings she got from it. "I hope you get the BEST candidate," she whispered. "I bet you'll get up to all sort of great adventures to tell stories about." She imagined for a moment that was why the inkstains on the egg; that harpers were going to write about this dragon and its rider. Or maybe the rider would, and even though she was trying not to get her hopes up, she thought this egg might like a harper for a rider.
Well, Aranrod wasn't the only candidate who was a harper. And she still hadn't touched several of the eggs. She walked away reluctantly, but her fingertips stayed in contact with the egg as long as possible even as she moved toward The Blood Spots Egg
. It was one of the larger ones, but she was more drawn to the dramatic markings. It looked like the scene of a vicious fight, but the people who had already touched it certainly didn't seem more agitated afterward. In fact, she thought some of them seemed calmer.
"I bet it's pretty deceptive, how violent your shell looks," she murmured. "Everyone else who has touched you has seemed happy enough afterward. You're really nice and friendly, aren't you?" She was still amused by the bright red spots on the shell, so intense and bold. She certainly hoped that the red on this and that smaller egg was the closest thing to blood they saw at this Hatching. She traced in the white spots between the spattered blood appearance. "There's always blood at births, though, isn't there?"
The Rusted Iron Egg
- The Rusted Iron Egg to Varren
"I really think these touchings are more for your benefit than ours. You can get to know those of us out here, maybe pick the person you want before you even break out of your shell. I just wish you could tell us what you're looking for."
You sense a long 'hmmmm' from the shell before anything else. "Perhaps, but I would believe they benefit you as well. Perhaps you don't get to know us very well, but knowing a little something is better than nothing."
They pointed out. "I do see what you mean, however, allow me to try and explain. What little 'feeling' you get from us is the same we get from you. It's like someone telling you're going to get a gift and you get to have a sneak peek, however, that sneak peek is hidden under a blanket. You can guess what it is, but it's hard to know exactly."
felt cool, calm, almost detached to Varren, and he really appreciated that. It was the mindset that he always tried to get into when he was doing the calculations about how well a plant was growing, or how much effect the numbweed from one line had compared to another. Even though the end result could hopefully matter a great deal, he needed to not get excited or emotional.
The rest of his life, he needed to find a balance between that calm, peaceful distance and the messy way he felt when he cared about someone or felt needed. At least he hadn't felt like any of the other candidates needed anything from him...outside the brief trip with Laikanu to the infirmary a few months ago. None of them had needed protection, or comfort. The only people here at New Atricis who distracted him from his candidacy at all were his siblings, niece, and nephew, and everyone had family. Or, almost everyone.
He looked at The Red Sandstorm Egg
, reminding himself that the eggshells didn't mean anything about the dragonet's personality. The red shell didn't mean the dragon inside was aggressive, and once he was sure he believed that, he put his hand on the shell. "Are you going to be a small dragon, a blue or a green?" he asked it. "You have one of the smaller eggs, so I sort of think you will be a small color. I love my sister's garnet, but I've always thought having a small dragon would be better for me. I'm probably not assertive enough to Impress a bronze, after all." He could be brave when he needed to be, but then he'd better not hear anyone saying that the smaller dragons didn't need or have as much courage as the larger ones. They all shared the risk of Threadfall, after all.