The Clutch That Was {Antaris' Current Clutch}

[Atra]

The gold hissed as she lay curled protectively around her eggs, some that she did not believe would survive pushed off to the side while in her paws a queen egg sat, her claws making a cage for the queen egg. It was not overly large ,but the gold shell was unmistakeable. It was bright and gleaming... and on one side was a silver patch which almost seemed to glow like a star - a somewhat broken. jagged, seven pointed star. The dragonet inside was a precious thing. A queen. She would be a rising star for Antaris. Or so the gold's rider told her again and again and again. This dragonet wzs more important than any of the other little eggs lying around here.

Vitralia sat in the stands. Despite being an older goldrider, she had not become senior. Simply because her gold had not risen first when the pervious one had passed on. And instead it was the grayscale Kibeth that had become Senior Queen.

Faranth what a predicament. She hardly saw the woman and she was definitely not competent enough.

Keep such thoughts to yourself, VitraliasMine. My eggs do not need you prattling on at me about what's fair and not fair. If I had risen sooner, you would be Werywoman, yes yes, I know.

Quite yourself Wenmarath! I have a right to complain if I want!

The gold grumbled. And I have a right to protect my eggs in peace!

The goldrider just laughed slightly. "Look at us.. .still arguing like whne we were young...

[Cait-flitt]

Ever since the bold attack by Blacklight Weyr to steal some of Wenmarath’s Eggs, Subitra had been borderline obsessive about checking on the clutch; no matter that her mother was there almost constantly and Praetorith now never left his post guarding the external entrances to the Sands to hunt. It had fallen to a pair of Greens in Praetorith’s wing to hunt for the royal pair to keep them strong.

The weather was just beginning to reveal the season of summer and Subitra was able to get by wearing a light weight tunic over her cloth trousers, belted at the waist by a triple braided sash. When she finally reached the arched entryway, Praetorith hissed at her and the sound of claws scraping against rock filled the air. Rolling her eyes, she tipped her head back to look up at the Bronze. “Oh leave off, Papa. You know I visit every day at the same time!”

That said, she slipped onto the Sands and despite his inclination to bar passage to anyone, Praetorith let her pass unmolested. Moving swiftly and with purpose, she approached the golden dragon where she was curled about her clutch and stopped a good distance away. Pushing past a protective Bronze was one thing, but with the mood Wenmarath had been in lately, it wasn’t wise to use such a confident approach. Green eyes eagerly took in the sight of the clutch and the part of her that was to be a Candidate was in awe while the more prominent part of her that was Dragonhealer seemed pleased that no new eggs had been added to “the graveyard” pushed aside for being void of life or very near it. “Hello Mother; Mama. Permission to approach?”

It had always been a quirk of hers from a very young age that the two dragons’ names had been shortened into Mama and Papa—also what she had originally called her parents. After all, they were just as much responsible for bringing her to life as her human parents, besides, they were generally amused enough by it though she sensed no outright amusement would be offered until the clutch was safely hatched and Impressed.