Bond Story of Caiseal The Healing Den was teeming with dragons. Caiseal had never seen so many dragons in his entire life, let alone so many with clutches. He and Caissene were sitting in one of the many stands, surrounded by other bonders like them, eagerly watching for any signs of shivering amoungst the eggs. "I think maybe that one did!" Caissene said, clutching at Caiseal's arm and pointing down excitedly at the large pile of eggs, giving Caiseal no help in trying to determine which she was speaking of. "Let's go." Caiseal finally said, shaking his head as he rose from the seat. Caissene followed reluctantly and they slipped from the dunes to the less-crowded area of the Healing Den. Caiseal started to relax finally, and stretched his arms out a bit. It was tense, sitting in there with all those dragonesses shooting deadly glares at each other. Caissene excused herself and rushed away to speak with some other girls, and Caiseal was left alone. He shot a winning grin at a young woman, of which there were many, and started strolling along the well-worn path. Caiseal kept his mouth sealed, and his thoughts to himself, but the eggs were shaking, and the hatching would take place shortly. He wasn't overly surprised when the call came, then, and it wasn't like they didn't have a warning with all the queens letting out the odd blast of vibrant humming. As Caiseal slowly made his way back to the Healing Den, he pondered over what he was seeing. Huge amounts of dragons were flying in from.....everywhere. They brought food and wines and cheeses, but Caiseal could see no other bonders. It was odd, considering that the searchers were still desperately searching for more for the softer half of the eggs still left to hatch. There were a few bonders Caiseal avoided as he made his way onto the dunes, a few he smiled at, and a few he glared at. One of the bonders made a show of walking up to the eggs, and the mother's hissed furiously. Caiseal had missed the whole story, but it was something about the boy trying to stab an egg or some such thing. Caiseal snorted. As if the mother's would have let him live afterwards. As someone shoved some food in his face, yelling 'popcorn!', Caiseal looked hard at the eggs and smiled. Over one of the dunes, he could hear the sound of breaking shells, and Caissene was suddenly beside him, smiling as her fingers tightened on his arm. A red, a stone-striped, a blue and two greens made their way down the sand, making sure everyone knew what was going on and that they were the first to hatch. The red female quickly made her choice, and they made their way off the dunes, the first of many bondings to come. The stone-striped brown was next, the male bonding to a girl. Caiseal was shoved from behind and glared around, but stood and straightened his green tunic, turning his attention back to the dragonets. The darkly colored blue, with small horn-buds on his head which matched those ivory tines coming off his wing-wrists, stood onto his back legs and began fumbling about looking for his bond. With a reddish gleam in his whirling eyes, the blue suddenly bellowed, startling several candidates and making one or two back away. Caiseal found himself left at the end of the path, and stared hard at the blue, who reached out and bonded him. Caiseal glanced with a grin at Caissene, who still remained near the back of the sands. I have been looking for you. We will find what you are looking for later. Right now, get me something to eat, and I will tell you about how we will travel! Caiseal felt his face twist in surprise as his bond mentioned the thing he most wanted to do and nodded. "Okay, Chwilioth, we’ll do that, look for food and then look for adventure!" He laughed, and helped the blue walk away. Off of the busy dunes, Caiseal was suddenly relieved from all of the people pressing in around him and sighed. Chwilioth snorted beside him and started ravaging the food placed before him. Caiseal could only sit and watch in amazement as his life started to slowly unfurl before his eyes. Caiseal bonded at the Healing Den