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Even she had made a particular note of the size difference between them, vaguely wondering just how exceedingly tall he was to nearly match her when he sat. She herself was even on the taller side for a female ('woman' would never fit her as a title), and... oh, none of that was even relevant. He'd turned to her now, and was speaking, awkwardly, as the young brown beside him chirped in affection.

So strange to think that that was his dragon: his... whatever the name was. She couldn't say; they hadn't been introduced. None the less, it was second nature to give the noble little creature a respectful nod.

"Well... that's... good to hear." Her words were slow, and just as awkward, and after a few seconds, she broke her gaze away from him. She was no fool, after all; it was plain to see that he didn't really fancy chatter, and she wasn't very good at it, either. "I'll not keep you, but... yes. Congratulations. Both of you."

Both? ... Well, of course the dragonet was worth congratulating too, since he was as much a 'person' as the next one.

Beyond that, though, her ability to carry conversation unaided had more or less been exhausted, and she thought it best to turn for taking her leave. The festivities? She had no reason to stay for them beyond what she'd just done.

Hmph. They were sharding lucky the kitchenworkers had learned to read the signs of an impending Hatching, was all Mirelle had to say about the matter. They were lucky she managed to get any roasting done with the short notice Cheoth gave, but the supplies were organized and that was a comfort. The fact that the cooks were still finishing dishes and Mirelle was personally escorting every plate to the tables meant nothing. It was part of the Hatching feast in these troubled times.

She liked the pressure, anyways.

She had left the remaining dishes in the hands of her apprentices and drudges in favour of making certain nobody spoiled food between kitchens and tables. At the moment, she was hovering over one of the tables most crowded with Weyrlings and young dragonriders, seeking a face she had left bent over a dish when she had walked out little less than half a candlemark ago.

She was certain he'd be there eventually, but for now, she was content looking at the older Weyrlings and wondering which of them she would soon be throttling for ruining her dishes.

Jessmet was more concerned with her own emotions to notice O'asis' hesitation. "I saw Inaari did! A green," she added. That was certainly something to be happy about. "Have you seen her? She must be around here somewhere."

There was lots of yelling, Ailurath pointed out. You were yelling, Arioth.

That's not the only thing he lacks, Arioth muttered just as darkly, although had someone actually asked her what those other things were, she would have been at an utter loss. An outraged utter loss, but a loss nonetheless. He yelled at me, so I yelled back. I could not let him yell at me like that without yelling back. The thought of just letting Varth get away with something made Arioth rattle her wings against her sides in agitation.

Grinning crookedly, Rinfala gave O'asis a light, joking punch to the shoulder. "Well, you've met us. Before the Hatching, even!" Not Arioth, of course...not even the Candidates had gotten to become 'acquainted' with the eggs this time. But hey, half-truth met half-truth. With that thought in mind... "So, whatever happened to your...girl." 'Girl' sounded more like 'piece of dragon s**t' coming out of her mouth. "I saw she was watching...I really hope she heard what I had to say." Cue her grin becoming something decidedly more predatory...perhaps vicious, even.

The idea of shaking Nimwae's hand was not up top on B'lin's to-do list. Actually, it wasn't on it at all. He was facing an awfully lot of internal conflict over the last few hours. This time, it was if he should brave it out or risk seeming rude. Lose-lose. There was no winning today. None. Eventually he did reach out and shake, just once, and very quickly. Brief as it was he still managed to look awkward for the duration of the gesture, letting the retired limb fall to his side afterward. "B'lin," he informed her in a mumble.

Xanthoth still had yet to recall his grief, and if nothing else, for that B'lin was thankful. One tilt of the head later, the bronze watched as though she was doing something spectacular rather than just... roaming around with a bowl on her head. Oh, yes. We'll become very good friends. She was pretty and had good taste. Shunning his brother with him there was the only natural thing to do. This lovely green was much smarter than those around them were probably crediting her for. I am Xanthoth. B'lin is happy to meet you. He just doesn't know it yet.

It was actually somewhat remarkable, how quickly O'asis could cool, and then how quickly he could warm up again. There was a flash in his eyes, clear annoyance, worry, anger at Rinfala's bold implication - and then he was laughter and ease again, if perhaps a bit less noisy than before. "I'm quite sure my friend's heard what everyone has to say by now, twice over," O'asis answered. "And I'm sure she'll be hearing it for some time to come." And hearing it from her friends, what precious few she still had. And telling it to herself. And reliving it in her dreams. He probably would be, too; guilt by association, or some such thing.

No, O'asismine. I will not let you. Always count on Uktenath for finding just the right thing to say, at just the right time.

"It's not something that you ever recover from," he concluded, his voice unusually firm, as if in promise. Faranth knew that nobody else would fail to carry it with them, after all. "But, I'm glad for you and Yours, Rinfala, in spite of all else that's happened."

He should not yell at you, Uktenath affirmed to the young queen, content to return his attention to her now that His did not seem so disturbed. But you should not give him the satisfaction of yelling back, unless you think he is worthy of being heard.

"I haven't seen Inaari yet," O'asis told Jessmet, and began to peer around the room. "Seems like she ought to be around here somewhere... maybe we ought to just follow the smell of klah until we find her?"

A'bri wandered into the hall, a little apart from A'nt as he swept the crowd for someone he knew. He wanted to check on Koios, make sure he hadn't been injured in any of the chaos... And he'd like to see Vera as well. He was pretty sure he'd caught a glimpse of her in the Stands, and he imagined that she was probably very upset.

Varth didn't so much wander in beside him as march in, his head up, his wings back, and his attitude focused. He wasn't entirely over his upset at his brother's betweening, but the crowd and the press of people distracted him. He would not enter any room looking less than imposing- no, that was for lesser creatures. He was proud, he was Varth, and everyone would know it. Especially Arioth.

:Mine, what are we doing? Why are there so many people? Who are you looking for?: The dragon could tell that His's attention was elsewhere, and he was not entirely pleased about it. A'bri stroked his head reassuringly, silently asserting that Varth was absolutely the most important being in the room even if A'bri was paying attention to other people.

"I'm looking for friends," he replied. "I want them to meet you, and we should say hello to your sibs, and their people. We're all family now, right? We should make sure we greet them properly."

:But I don't want to talk to them,: Varth argued, his tone irritated and his eyes swirling a pouty sort of orange. They are not important. I am better than them, why do we need to talk to them?

"They are important, Varth, even if they aren't as important to me as you are. We should still be nice- you don't want someone else to have better manners than you do, do you?" It might not have been entirely ethical to use the dragon's competitive nature like that, but A'bri wanted the chance to socialize, and really did think it was important for Varth to be at least on speaking terms with his clutchmates.

:...Fine. I will show them I have the best manners. ...What is a manners?:

"Just be polite, and you'll show them you have manners," A'bri replied, unable to restrain a smile at that. "Come on, I said we'd sit with A'nt, but I don't think I can sit still just yet. Let me tell him we'll be back over in a few minutes." A'bri worked his way through the crowd, somewhat aided by Varth's impressive presence at his side- even now, it didn't look like anyone was eager to stand in his way-until he managed to find where A'nt had settled himself.

"Hey, there you are! It's thick in here, isn't it? So many people- it's going to be a fight to get anywhere." A'bri gave A'nt a friendly clap on the shoulder, and flashed him a quick smile. "I'm actually a little too wired to sit down just yet, I think- I'm going to look around a bit, introduce myself to some of the other new riders. If you want to join me after you eat, well- Varth's pretty noticeable, you can probably find him in the crowd. You can have yours get his attention, too, if you need- he'll let me know if you're looking, I'll stand on a bench or something." A'bri smiled again, a hint of his ever-present energy showing clear. He was still hurting- surely everyone was still hurting- but he had Varth to celebrate, and everyone looked like they could use some cheering up. And as far as A'bri was concerned, that was something he should be looking into.

:I still don't see why I have to be nice,: Varth grumbled, but he sighed and fixed Matsukazeth with a neutral look. Better, at least, than glaring at him. :If your Mine wishes to find Mine, tell me, and we will help them find each other.:

With another friendly pat on the shoulder, A'bri headed back into the crowd. He wanted to go say hello to the new Queenrider, but he wasn't willing to push Varth quite that far yet- and the Brown's hiss of annoyance when he considered it made it quite clear that it would not go well- so he headed off in a different direction. He could see a lovely Green he didn't recognize talking with one of the Blues and the Bronze from Varth's clutch, but Varth was no more eager to talk to the Bronze than he was to talk to Arioth. A pity, as the Green was wearing a bowl on her head, and A'bri was dying to know the story behind that.

:Mine is not well?: Varth asked, his eyes whirling white for a moment as he caught A'bri's thought. :Mine cannot be dying, it is badbadbad!:

:No, no, no, I'm fine,: A'bri hastened to reassure him. :It's just an expression, is all, it just means I'm curious. Everything is okay, I promise, everything is okay.:

:...It is a bad expression. I do not like it. Mine should not use it.: Varth's eyes returned to a slightly muddy orange, and he shook out his wings.

:Sorry. Won't happen again. I could use a drink, let's go over to that table there. I think I see wine.: A'bri directed Varth's attention toward a table, and Varth started towards it, using his bulk and his somewhat forbidding expression to clear a path. :I could get used to this,: A'bri commented to him, :not getting jostled by the crowd. Very useful.:

:We should not be jostled. We are better than them, they should be out of our way.: