Unexpected Jitters

Monaco Bay Weyr - Candidate and Weyrling Barracks
Huge in its own right, this series of interlinked caverns is the complex that houses both candidates and weyrlings. Fashioned out of a multitude of hollows, it serves as a central gathering area as well as classroom. A number of deep pockets have been laborously smoothed to provide comfortable dwellings for the young dragons and their riders away from the weather of the central area, and affording them some privacy but not much. Above, the cavern opens to the sky, holding out the worst of the island's weather but allowing an aerial exit and providing natural lighting to the area. Branching off from this cavern is an opening that leads to the exercise yard, and another carved passage that leads onto the hatching sands - though this entrance is typically closed tight to prevent mischief.

Only a little while after the Touching and Ysabella is heading in to the Barracks, she still seems a little befuddled by her experience but her eyes are sharp and searching. She pauses at the doorway to the Barracks as she looks in, like she's worried someone might run out and past her before she could talk to them. The person she's searching for perhaps? Or persons, really there were two people that left the Sands in a hurry then.

Ityrziel's hiding. There really aren't a whole lot of other ways to look at it: Ityrziel left the sands, and now he is absolutely hiding from any draconic minds that might be looking for him. Or possibly his peers, although his cot is a pretty bad place to do that. He seems to have changed out of the sweat-soaked sands clothing, and he's back in his armor; tidy, tidy clothes, absently adjusting and re-adjusting the cravat. Mostly, though, he's staring hard at the far wall, or possibly nothing, eyes darting back and forth. Perched on the rim of the egg basket that's appeared and flaring his wings protectively over it, though, Aphelion does, at least, notice Ysabella. The little blue trills, quiet, eyes tracking the other candidate curiously.

"Hello," Ysabella whispers to the little blue as she steps further into the Barracks. She'd wondered earlier who might've left the egg basket but hadn't yet quite thought to really find out. Or perhaps it was just low on her list of worries. At the moment she was approaching Ityrziel, concern written on her features with her hands folded in front of her. "Tyr? Are you alright? You left rather quickly."

It doesn't look like Tyr's paying much attention to the basket, but Hel is anyways, burbling a little noise but not quite moving his little wings. He doesn't even cover half of the thing. Adorable. "Ah!" Tyr squawks, a little, blinks at Ysabella; his expression clears quickly, though, settling into chagrin. "Sorry! Lost in thoughts, I suppose. Yes, I do apologize, I didn't mean to leave the rest of you. The eggs were a bit on the shocking side, weren't they?" The harper ventures, eyes drifting back to the wall he's been staring at. "Very strange."

"Yes, I hadn't quite expected to get reactions from the eggs honestly," Ysabella says ruefully as she stops by his cot. She shrugs her shoulders a little. "But then I hadn't much known what to expect in the first place. I suppose I should have asked around so I had not gone in blind, but hindsight is 20/20 of course. The first one I touched?" Ysabella pauses and then she shakes her head, hand clasping the other a little more tightly as they shook. "But both you and Wendyn had a rather strong reaction to that gold egg. Was it really so bad?"

Ityrziel contemplates that wall good, expression distant; not misty, but he doesn't quite look haunted, either. "My sister told me that they'd…show you things, but she wouldn't elaborate. I can't say I believed her." The candidate admits, rueful. As to the egg, his eyes flick back and forth, before he apparently remembers; and shudders. "The starry one? I went there first. It was…" One shoulder twitches up a bit, and Tyr falls silent for a long beat. As for the last one, the harper smiles a little, rueful. "It was a bit much, perhaps?"

Ysabella purses her lips, not seeming to want to press Ityrziel but still seemingly worried. She nods her head though at the mention of the starry egg, letting out a light sigh. "That egg has left me feeling all kinds of jitters, and the others? jitters of a different sort. Do these things they show really say much about the dragon that's within do you think? Some of these hatchlings are bound to be.. interesting."

Tyr's shoulders are at least less stiff — he relaxes, a little, letting his hands fall from fidgeting with his cravat. He doesn't seem to notice the concern, bless, tapping on a knee absently. "Jitters. That's one way to put it, isn't it? Faranth." There's a pause as he considers the next, eyes narrowed. "I think…that they're young? That maybe they're trying to make sense of the world." The harper contemplates, tap-tap-tapping on his knee. "That maybe scaring the shells out of us helps them?" Riiiight.

"Really? Mm, well I suppose that is a way of looking at it. Some of the ones I touched seemed older.. some a little younger but all surprisingly intelligent," Ysabella contemplates this with a glance toward the ceiling her own hands twisting in her skirt before she's forcing her fingers to relax. She stretches them out bringing her gaze back toward Ityrziel again. "Perhaps they just don't know any better?"

It seems like Ityrziel's willing to latch onto this, like maybe he actually is starting to believe his own goofy theory, since he leans forward, elbows on knees, expression thoughtful. "They were surprisingly intelligent, I will give them that. But what frame of reference would they have? What guide for right or wrong? I suppose they need to learn somehow." He speaks slowly, eyes flashing over to Ysabella, settling with a little smile for the other candidate. "It was rather unsettling though, wasn't it? Some of them. I wonder what it'll be like, if, ah, we're…allowed back."

Ysabella returns his smile, her shoulders relaxing a little in relief. "Maybe they've been soaking up all the thoughts from the Weyr?" She says this a little half-heartedly, as one unfamiliar with dragons only could. "That would give them a good frame of reference I would think. But yes, it was a bit unsettling. If we're allowed back it will more than likely be much the same I imagine. I don't think the eggs would change their responses if that's what you're curious about?"

"Oh, Faranth forbid. What an upbringing that would be!" Ityrziel huffs, expression scrunching up, head shaking ruefully. "I do hope not." He doesn't seem certain, though, frowning. "My sister wrote to say she's visiting soon. Her dragon probably knows: I'll ask her. We don't have to just guess." The harper decides, after a beat, smile creeping up again. "Oh, I don't…I don't think I'd want to revisit, ah, some of them. You know? Wouldn't want to make myself a nuisance." And by that he absolutely means 'please dont make me go back to the warzone one', but does he say that? Noooo. "That's true enough, though. I don't imagine they'll change much, with just us for company." He huffs a little noise that might be a laugh, head shaking.

"I'm sure we're fine company," Ysabella laughs, "Though they may get tired of us after a while of course. Possibly send us on our way before even their mother can. Oh, you're sister's a rider? Then perhaps she can indeed enlighten as a little on the mystery of dragon eggs." Ysabella glances at the egg basket in the room musingly, "Though it just seems to be dragon eggs doesn't it? Firelizards don't give off that sort of imagery with their eggs as far as I know."

Tyr tips his head agreeably, eyes brighter now. "Oh, I'd say. Must be strange, though, knowing only a few others — then having people put their grubby hands all over you." He clucks under his breath, amused, and shifts out of his hunch to set his back against the rocky wall behind his cot. "She is. We don't really talk about it, but I'm sure that she'd know. Maybe one day we'll be asking one of those dragons, ourselves, though." The harper says that with a little frown, but whatever feeling that thought strikes is whisked away — in favor of a thoughtful look for the basket. "Do you know, I didn't notice with any of mine. I turned those, earlier, asked a Weyrlingmaster and she told me it was okay. Maybe you should try? That's…interesting."

Ysabella wrinkles her nose at the idea, shaking her head ruefully. "When you put it that way perhaps it's no surprise that the eggs are a little jittery-inducing. Being disturbed after being kept in a quiet place with their mother for so long, it would make anyone a little perturbed." She doesn't seem to notice his frown but nods slowly to his suggest. "Try turning the eggs? I've never cared for firelizard eggs before, I'm not I'm the best person to do so."

Ityrziel nods a few times, lips quirking sideways. "I suppose we could give them a pass. Just for now. Still…" The harper twitches. "I hope that that's it for, ah, harrowing experiences. Faranth, I'm not sure what the other one did to my chest, but it — it wasn't great." Absently, the candidate rubs at his chest, watching Aphelion make a grand show of watching over the little egg-basket with a few other 'lizards from around the barracks. "Oh, it's not so hard! You just have to be gentle. They're interesting, though, aren't they? I wonder where they came from."

"Your chest?" Ysabella looks a little concerned again, but then she's shaking herself. "We'll have to see if we're allowed back whether all the eggs are quite so harrowing. I'll admit the gold one has me curious now? But as for the firelizard eggs, would you mind showing me perhaps? I need to go change first, I'm still covered in Hatching Sands heat, but I'd love to learn." With that said she takes a step away to go to her chest and rummage in it for a change of clothes. "I'll be heading to the baths. We can chat some more later?"

Tyr waves the concern off, absently, hand wiggling. "Maybe I imagined it." He hums, nods once, gaze switching towards the sands. "It wasn't — so bad? I suppose? I'm not entirely sure how to, ah, explain it. Any of them, really, though." The harper makes a thoughtful noise, but then he's grinning, lopsided, nodding. "Oh, yes! Certainly, certainly I could. I'm afraid I didn't get much time with any of their eggs, but it's not so hard." He agrees, lifting a hand. "Mind the rain! I hope it hasn't set in, again."

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