His long strides whisk him across the sand, and he hopes that he is not too late for the hatching... -- The Hatching Grounds

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Date Posted: 12:11:00 12/02/01 Sun
Author: Rytor
Subject: His long strides whisk him across the sand, and he hopes that he is not too late for the hatching...

His head swings around as he catches sight of the nest. Striding over, he surveys the clutch eagerly, though he tries to let little emotion show in his indigo gaze. Spreading his hands across the clutch, he examines them to assure himself that he hasn't missed a beat. His white robes billowing behind him, he finds a strange elation welling from the darkness within him, eating away at the black lonliness.

The sight of the eggs nestled in the crooks of the nest sparks tenderness in him, and a smile creeps across his face despite himself. He nods approvingly as he searches to find a place to sit and wait, the wind buffeting his swatch of dark mahogany curls. Gazing around, he notices that most of the other Canidates are female, and shrugs his broad shoulders at this.

I know what I'm here for, to Impress. That's what I need to do, so that I never walk alone again. If one of you will have me. He adds to the eggs, smiling at himself. Rytor, or "Hawkbeak" as his friends knew him in the village, was never usually one for smiling. He was called Hawkbeak for the very reason that his hooked nose resembled...well...a hawk's beak. Never smiling, that was an exageration, but a smile seldom flickered the frown line that creased his forehead most of his eighteen turns. He turns, as usual, to the inside of himself, lost in the depths that he had created in his years of travel, barriers and crevasses, oubliettes and ledges that lined and outlined his very heart and soul. Perhaps having a lifemate, a great partner of scale, wing, and sinew could flood those dark pits of stark terror and utter desparation, buoying him up from his solitude and withdrawal into the warm embracing sunlight. The link could be made, he decided, if he could learn to trust a partner above all others.

Appearing to go into a sort of trance to the outside, he keeps part of himself surfaced to wait and watch for any signs of movement from the eggs, stirrings of his own future.

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Replies:

Re: His long strides whisk him across the sand, and he hopes that he is not too late for the hatching... -- Thaia, 23:20:42 12/02/01 Sun
He smiles faintly and nods. "I'm Rytor. Nice to meet you." His words are soft, and somewhat kind, but his gaze is distant, his thoughts almost miles away from the Hatching sands. (NT) -- Rytor, 22:11:23 12/03/01 Mon
- Rushes over to the Queen egg -- Thaia, 08:06:33 12/04/01 Tue
  - Greeting -- Yriu & Jumi, 12:46:34 12/04/01 Tue
    - He raises his head and gives his faint smile again... -- Rytor, 17:05:33 12/04/01 Tue