But there was someone she was missing. With the first egg rolling vigorously across the sands in the background, Siche fumbled for her phone again and hit another button.

"Lin'? Hi, are you busy? No? Okay, good. Jirairtai's clutch is hatching--" And the Minister had to hold the phone out at arms length, as an audible roar burst out from the little portable. Once the noise had died down, Siche held the phone back up to one of her feline-formed ears. "Are you done yet? Well you'd better be! Yeah, so drag your tail down here! What would your subordinates say if they found out a hatching was going on and you weren't around for-- hello? Hello?" Siche made a noise of disgust, and folded the phone shut again. Trust dogs to bark and posture before getting down to work.

Just as the first of the candidates filed in, the first egg exploded, a great crack forming down the middle (almost tracing one of the faint, lightning like marks of the shell), spilling out a blueish dragonet. The little creature squalled as it spilled out of its container, and Siche could see that it was marked up and down the spine with lightning marks just as faint as on its shell. Well... interesting.

As if signalled by their first siblings escape, the rest of the eggs began to rock harder, and several more began to crack as the candidates got close enough to encircle the little creatures. The mother, Jirairtai, wisely stepped back, making way for the odd assortment of potential bonders.

The blue, having regained her wits, was shaking the fluid from her wings, and looked about at the candidates with rasberry-red eyes. She stumbled a bit as she took her first steps, but appeared to be learning quickly--soon she was weaving around, pausing at one candidate and then the next, making as if to forge that permanent bond, and then dodging away when anyone came close enough to try to make physical contact with her. One candidate, the racoon-like Ekorael, watched the sly little blue with masked eyes, and discovered that she was working with a pattern: bait and flee, bait and flee. When she came close enough to him, he grabbed her by the neck, causing her to squawk loudly. "Ha, not going to get away this time!" She protested for a minute, but the allowed herself to be carried back to the feeding table--or what was set up of the feeding table.

As he and his bond approached the hastily prepared meat-bowls, a very harried looking wolfen creature stopped them in their tracks. "Name... please," he houghed, taking breaths between each word.

"I'm Ekorael and this is..." The newly bonded young man pointed to the space where his dragonet used to be, but found it empty, only to spot the female blue already worrying at the attendants setting up the tables and meat. "Well, that's Hunmorin." He gave a nervous chuckle, and the lupine creature allowed him to pass.

From the stands, which were beginning to fill now in that mysterious way that they always did during a hatching, Siche waved her stylus at the Archivist. "Glad you could make it," she shouted, one hand to her muzzle. The Archivist flipped his tail at her in an obscene gesture.

Where the rest of the eggs had been shaking, now four burst simultaneously. Onto the sands sprawled a dark red with faint lightning-markings, a pale blue with much brighter markings of the same kind, a dark, rather plain purple, and a paler red, also with faint markings. Each of them squawked and creeled at one another, surprised and confused. The first to recover--the dark red, got to his feet and made a rather rude sounding screech at the other three, and with that he was off to the semi-circle of candidates. He didn't even pause at each candidate, instead giving them all one collective 'haugh'ing noise, and stumbling towards food.

"Oh great, another bondless." Linaeas gave a harumph of his own as the dragonet stumbled past him, then prodded his own bond, the red-black Taxoness. "Tax, mind getting a name out of this guy?"

The hatchling suddenly shrieked, standing in place, and then darted to the food bowls as if he had been bitten in the tail. ::...spoiled little...::

"Tax!"

::Right. He says his name is Remalu, and that he 'doesn't want to bond those boring blubbery beasts'.:: Linaeas flicked his tail again, but this time with more humor.

And already, while he was looking away, two of the dragonets who'd hatched had already taken their bonds. The purple and the other red were now impatiently leading a pair of giant (and they were giant), bear-like creatures towards the food. Linaeas stared at both of them, with their shimmering white fur and their full-dress armor. He wasn't intimidated, par se... but he stepped infront of them with rather a bit more respect then he otherwise might have. The slightly larger of the two, the one with the red, lowered his massive head, and in a rumbling voice, addressed the Archivist. "I am Forgeron, and this," the little red glared at Linaeas from between the huge bear's paws, "is Yarro. These two are Kasatka and Kinya." And with that all four of them were off.

Linaeas imprinted their names, and reminded himself to pay attention to the rest of the hatching.

The light blue was still on the sands, eyeing each candidate from his safe space just beside his shattered egg. He gave a start as another egg--no, make that two--no, three--rather, all of the eggs behind him started cracking and crumbling, until quite suddenly, the rest of the hatchlings were laying sprawled on the sands. As if that was all the goading he needed to choose a bond, the blue marched straight at Karle, and placed a paw on the man's foot. The look of elation on the human's face was priceless, or at least amusing. The two of them were easy to get names from, "Karle and Retarok," the man said breathlessly as both passed Linaeas by.

The last four dragonets were a mixed bag: there was a green--the only green of the clutch in fact--who sported dazzling stripes; a cream who showed no markings at all; a very dark blue who rivaled her sister in brilliant markings, and, surprisingly enough, a silver who's markings were rather masked by her already shimmering hide. All four were on their feet already--faster then the last wave!--and hurrying towards the candidates.

Linaeas kept his glowing red ocular 'ware on them, not wanting to miss any of them do their thing. The first to bond of these four was the dark blue. Quickly approaching the rather spiny looking Ckrenachithanth, she literally leapt on his front claws, butting her head against his leg. She uttered a nearly purr-like noise as Ckrenachithanth returned her affection. Linaeas caught the draconic creature before he could whisk his new bond to the now erected feeding tables, and it told him, mentally, ::This is Sowfesh... the most beautiful dragon in the world.. Linaeas twitched his nose, recording the name, and let the two of them pass.

The other three dragonets were barreling around the leftover candidates' feet, (or paws, whatever the case might be), calling to one another in the way that children do, cajolling and competitive. The silver broke free of their antics, however, as she paused at the feet of one very dazed looking young man. She stared up at him, entranced, and finally claimed him for herself with one soft-clawed paw. Linaeas rumbled approval as the two of them came by, the silver alternately leading the young man, and stopping to butt her head against his leg. Without having to be asked, the human stopped before the Archivist, and announced (in a still very dazed sounding voice), "Wiro.... That's her name... I'm Zale."

"Right. Now go off and feed her." Linaeas let his muzzle split in a slight grin as the human blinked, and the dragonet pushed him towards the meat.

The cream dragonet, at first excited by the candidates, was quickly becoming quiet as it became apparent--or at least, she thought so--that none of them wanted her. True enough, most had their eyes on the brightly marked green, who literally preened with the attention. The cream, feeling dejected, slunk towards the food tables, her hunger becoming stronger then her will to bond. ::Tucine.::, Taxoness' voice whispered to Linaeas, tinged with the pity that the Archivist felt for the cream.

The last of the dragonets, the green, was revelling in the attention she was getting. She pranced up the (muchly reduced) line of candidates, then flaunted back down. She knew it was her decision on who to bond, and no one elses. So she did--make the decision, that is. She paused before Korin, and plopped her tail onto his feet. With a happy grin on her face, she looked at the rest of the candidates, uttering a squawk that was remarkably close to, "MINE!".

Linaeas chortled, despite himself, as the last pair made their way towards him. "Your names, please?"

"Oh, I'm Korin, and this is... Sahai!" The human grinned as the green spread her wings at the Archivist.

And, for Linaeas at least, the hard part was over.

Siche, on the other hand, had a swarm of hopefuls pawing at her, like small children hoping for a present. "Listen, people. PEOPLE!" And the hopeful dragon-sponsors backed off. The catwoman lashed her tail, then ran a paw over her head hair, composing herself. "Listen. There are only two dragons, and there are a lot more then two of you here." She glanced at her notepad again, clicked on the new file that Linaeas had sent her of names, "Now, the cream, Tucine, she's going to need a lot of love and affection. I want someone who'll be able to commit to that..."

"I can do it." One sponsor, a long, slender draconic creature which had wound her way into the audience stands, now spoke, her head looking down at Siche from atop a long, sinuous neck. "I'm Olanuh, and I'll be sure to provide the cream with attention."

"Wonderful." Siche nodded. "That was all I needed to hear. Now, this red... Remalu." She looked around at the rest of her sponsors, then furrowed her brow as the barbarian woman, Jirairtai's bond, muscled her way through the crowd. "Give him to me." She said, bluntly.

"You? What?" Siche gave the woman an obviously disbelieving look.

"Because. Jir's the mother."

Siche blinked. "And... that means what exactly?"

The woman harumphed and crossed her arms, "Means that he's ours, now."

"I..." Siche prepared to give the bronze dragoness' bond a thorough tongue-lashing, but then changed her mind as the barbarian began cracking her knuckles. "Fine. So long as you can take proper care of him, he's yours." And that was that. The rejected sponsors went their seperate ways, and Siche heaved a sigh of relief. So much for well planned!