It’s early in the morning, way too early for either to be awake. Their obligation to be awake was a while off--breakfast and lessons wouldn’t start for a few more candlemarks. Yet neither of the pair can truly fall asleep anymore.

When Khamaith had grown to a certain size, Ezyzu began abandoning the cot to come curl up with Khamaith and a few dragged furs from the bed. It was such again this morning, with the weyrling curled up against Khamaith’s chest with the blankets tucked over her. Kha’s head tucked back to nestle against Ezyzu’s long legs. Her eyes glowed gently in the dark of the room, both careful to not wake anyone as the girl scratched absently at her beloved’s eyeridges. Khamaith had roused upon getting word from Cloveth that the hatching at High Reaches Weyr had started, and had nudged Hers awake at the news. So they’d tucked up together, waiting on bated breath as Khamaith waited for news.

Ezyzu had a lot of friends she hadn’t realized were going for the swap. It’s not the best feeling she’s trying to wrestle with, knowing they were going, and she was here. Though she had impressed her sweetest girl, she is quite.. helpless in this odd feeling. They went where she could not follow anymore. Being left behind is a terrible feeling, and she tucks herself against Khamaith’s collarbone a bit tighter. Martirae, Zyanzi, Vash, Dhawsn.. Xanael…

The idle thought of Xan has her face heating up some. He’d left a few days ago, as had the other candidates going to High Reaches Weyr for the swap. His dark eyes and impish smile had caught her heart, and where she had only gone to wish him the best of luck.. She’s kissed his cheek. She’s still a junior weyrling, and anything beyond was against the rules. Yet her stomach had fluttered with the whimsy thought that she may never see him again--and pecked him on the cheek.

Now? The thought is more of a tunnelsnake wrestling in her stomach.
What if he did impress at High Reaches?

She would.. Be happy, she supposes. Xanael deserved to find His, find his partner and be happy. The fluttering in her heart shouldn’t let her try for some selfish claim on him. Even with his flirty remarks and charming smile, or how sweet and kind he was to Khamaith… Did-- did she care about him? She supposes she did--does, or her gut instinct wouldn’t have been to kiss him, and her brain’s correction to his cheek. Yet Ezyzu needs to come to terms with the thought he may not come back. It doesn’t quite settle the unrest in her soul, of the torn feeling of wanting him to succeed yet return to Western (For her? Or just to Western in general?)...

Khamaith’s eyes whirl a bit brighter, and she shifts her head a bit. It’s enough to pull Ezyzu out of her inner diatribe.

What is it, love? Ezyzu asks gently, stroking her soft nose.

Martirae has Impressed. She dutifully reports, soft and gentle. Khamaith is aware her sweetest girl is in a more fragile state, and does her best to be the gentle, calm rock Ezyzu needs.

The girl gasps gently, managing to smile even with the odd, complicated feeling resurging. Another friend she might not see again, yet Marty had found Hers. She’s happy for her, truly. Who? What’s their name?

A gold. Her name in Anakumth. There’s a pleased note, for she had a soft spot for Marty on the beach--she’d just not been Hers.

Ezyzu smiles, a bit wider, a bit sadder as she nods. I’ll have to send her my congratulations. It was one letter she’d have to write. She can already think of a few things she’d like to write to her friend, and makes a mental note to start drafting when she can light a candle without waking anyone out of their sleep too early. Everyone else..?

Nothing yet. I will let you know, my darling.

Ezyzu nods, leaning down to kiss the top of Khamaith’s head before shifting to lay her head in the hollow space between her beloved’s head and neck. Perhaps sleep would take her, perhaps not. But the closeness of her bonded was a balm on her heart.

A worried yellow begins to filter into her eyes that catches Ezyzu’s attention. There is conflict. A candidate has died. Nonami is frightened, but okay. Her rider’s hands come up to curl around Khamaith’s head, feeling her tense up horribly at mentioning of their sibling. They are okay, they are protected. Yet there is more blood on the sands. Her tone flags, quiet as it is. For there was such pain, such misery, such anxiety that she can feel in the minds that she knows to skim, from her rider’s mother and Cloveth. It hurts her hearts to know this when her and her siblings had hatched without much drama and hurt. She cannot fault them, just as she had not faulted Lishanth for attacking that candidate (and even the thought of her dear brother now gone has grey seeping in at the corners of her eyes..)

A western bronze stirred trouble, and it’s with a heavy, shocked hurt that she cannot reach out to soothe irritated feelings that she forces herself to keep tabs on the ones so precious to Hers.

Resolutely, she does not tell Ezyzu that she can feel Xanael’s pain, that he had been caught in the crossfire. It would only worry her even more…

Vash has impressed to Orath, a white. There’s the softest, pleased hum for her own bias towards white dragons. Soui has impressed as well.. A white named Museth. Yurastar has impressed to a bronze, Nevidenth. Zyanzi, too --a white named Iljunfanth.

While Ezyzu was glad for her friends triumphs in finding Theirs--and the irony that of her friends that had gone, three had impressed to lovely white dragons--her heart continues to hurt. It was a tug of war, wanting to feel joy for her friends and their accomplishment. They had Impressed, had found the dragon whose soul matched theirs. Yet all she can do is try to fight back tears in some botched feelings of selfishness. For it would now be upwards of five turns before she could see them again, and not as if she could pop over there to visit with how territorial High Reaches queens could be. This wasn’t counting the possibility that they might not even return to Western.. What of Nonami? Dhawsn? She doesn’t trust her voice, instead asking softly through their link. Ezyzu pauses, biting her lip. ...Xanael?

They are… No, none of them have impressed. The hatching had come to an end after such drama that she turns a closed eye to--instead, curling a bit tighter around her rider. Khamaith’s wing shifts over, curling over her head and hiding Ezyzu completely to shut the world out for a while. Only then does she feel her most beloved girl shiver and shake, the hide on her neck becoming damp as her poor beloved tries to sort out these feelings in such an early time of day.

But while she normally had a wellspring of words to soothe and comfort, they ran dry on this complicated morning. All Khamaith could do was send wave after wave of gentle, loving reassurance to Ezyzu, blanketing her rider in such sweet loving feelings as she wept.

There was nothing left she could say.