Sire and Dam: Xanth and Sidijith
Hatching Date: Saturday, March 29, 2008
Theme of Clutch: The Four Seasons
Theme of Dragonets: Weather / Elements / Elemental Things
Hatchling Name: Tranquil Hearth Moonbow Gold Dragonet
Dragon Name: Hestiath

Clutch Message:
Sidijith will shift herself to help Xanth bury those stormy, spicy shells beside the rotting one he likes so much. She hardly even looks tired, this young queen, with only a bit of droop to her wings and pale sweeps on her hide to betray any exhaustion. Sidijith will drop another egg to the Sands: softly, wetly, without any fanfare.

Woodsmoke at Autumnal Twilight Egg
This egg has been caught in the magic time between sunset and moonsrise, its oblong shell wrapped in scarves of luminous cobalt and silver-studded lapis that both beckon the frost and keep it at bay. The charcoal skeletons of ash and oak cling to their tattered russet cloaks and huddle close to evergreen cousins, searching for a warmth that can only be scented in the faint haze of woodsmoke wreathing their crowns.

Hatch Message:
Woodsmoke at Autumnal Twilight Egg shudders from deep within its core, sacrificing its last leaves to a chill as inevitable as it is inescapable: change. Pine boughs part and what waves away the lingering smoky haze is not the onset of winter, but rather a gush of new life as Tranquil Hearth Moonbow Gold Dragonet spills glimmering onto the Sands.

Impression Pose (what the audience sees):
Tranquil Hearth Moonbow Gold Dragonet will, at last, come to rest as her circuit completes, her long progress towards the altar of tradition, a safe haven from which new lives and new traditions will be engendered, finally fulfilled. She finds herself at Imogen's feet, a supplicant and yet a queen. Hail, daughter. Come near, draw near, and bestow grace upon my song.

Impression Message (what you see):
Peepers. You hear spring peepers, emerging from lush silence that wasn't there a moment before, and their hymn claims you are no longer on the heated Sands. The grains beneath your feet melt away before the swift uprush of Spring, the velveteen verdure of new grass, the coded courtship of fireflies that swirl around you in the fecund dusk. Life surges around you with the rustle of garter snakes through the lawn; will-o-wisps dance just beyond clarity but before you can even think of stepping towards their light they sweep towards you in a blazon of foxfire and starlight. Then you are swallowed whole in glowing glory, a burgeoning burn that starts deep in your soul and pours outward to connect you utterly to the honey-sweet tones in your mind: « I am Hestiath, and I take you, Imogen, to keep the warmth alive with me, for all of our days and nights. »

Dragonet Description:
The grounded grace of womanhood, sacrosanct, undulates between the night-cloaked amber hills of shoulders and haunches, 'ridges revealing dusky golden earth beneath sails spread wide as the evening sky. Therein twilight blue sinks towards night's encroaching charcoal, pricked with stars; fully splayed - but rarely - they reveal the subtle arc of the spectrum made luminous across their velvet breadth. Gently hollowed sockets reflect back facets' light, ethereal, eternal, to illume muzzle's humble curve but keep hidden the wisdom sipped nightly from Belior's lambent cup, and Timor's steady gilding of flame-curled talons.

Hestia, in the high dwellings of all, both deathless gods and men who walk on earth, you have gained an everlasting abode and highest honour: glorious is your portion and your right. For without you mortals hold no banquet, — where one does not duly pour sweet wine in offering to Hestia both first and last. -Homeric Hymn to Hestia

Your moon-kissed, hearth-born lifemate is a manifestation of Hestia, heart-guarder, homemaker, with echoes of Artemis, moon-maiden, lady of the wild things, protectress of chaste girls. Both remain eternal virgins, though Hestiath takes her namesake's gentle approach of devoting herself to the well-being of the household, rather than openly scorning men as Artemis chose.

Though virginal, Hestia maintains a matronly, maternal function as the center of the home, and so your lifemate has a deeply ingrained sense of nurturing much like yourself - all growing things interest her. She's not inclined to order things as Alysiuth might, however; nor will she ever explode in mad moments of power as Mrrth or even Jianth. Simplicity and modesty go hand in hand as she allows the world to take its natural path, providing a secure center from which the Weyr may thrive around her.

It may often seem to others that her passive, non-confrontational personality is utterly at odds with the color of her hide. But close analysis shows strong hints that Hestia was a religious force of tremendous and ancient import: in Greek (and later Roman) culture ritual offerings to all gods began with a small offering to Hestia; the phrase "Hestia comes first" from ancient Greek culture denotes this. So, too, your Hestiath will never forget that she is a queen of the Weyr, and that you are a weyrwoman, and that you both ought to be accorded all of the rights and privileges of said rank. Those who seek to slight either of you will find the hearth turned cold and the doors shut against them.

As goddess of the hearth, Hestiath strives to protect and preserve what falls within her sphere of influence. Most notably, this is you yourself, Imogen. Hestiath cherishes who you are now and wishes to let you develop in your own time, without any rude impositions on what she considers a natural progress. She’ll see herself as a guide, but never directly infer which direction to go. This should come from you, from within, and even she - as a part of you - will not interfere in this process. Given this sacred responsibility, Hestiath seeks to guard your innocence and even naivete, encouraging your delight in the small wonders of the garden, your unfailing belief in the goodness of humanity. She’ll take it upon herself to deal with your problems for you with a determination to allow you to maintain who you are, posing as a buffer between you and the outer world. And the outcomes of this might not always be the best. Her desire to keep you happy within the inner sanctum that she protects may in fact stall the ‘natural progression’ of her sincere intentions and may, furthermore, bring you into conflict with her, should you realize what she’s doing. She is a dragon that keeps her own council, and so will not tell you in what ways she acts as interlocutor or subtly smoothes your path. If you are to find out, you’ll have to do so on your own.

Nor yet does the pure maiden Hestia love Aphrodite's works. She was the first-born child of wily Cronos
and youngest too (24), by will of Zeus who holds the aegis, — a queenly maid whom both Poseidon and Apollo sought to wed. But she was wholly unwilling, nay, stubbornly refused; and touching the head of father Zeus who holds the aegis, she, that fair goddess, swear a great oath which has in truth been fulfilled, that she would be a maiden all her days. So Zeus the Father gave her an high honour instead of marriage, and she has her place in the midst of the house and has the richest portion. In all the temples of the gods she has a share of honour, and among all mortal men she is chief of the goddesses.
-Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite

As a dragon, Hestiath can't truly go the route of eternal chastity. The gentle warmth of her internal hearth will turn into that raging inferno sure enough, and her blood will demand blood to quench the heat. Only a male will be able to slake such a thirst, though that does not mean that she must accept him meekly (as she will so many other things).

When her proddy cycle kicks in, it does so with a sharp increase in her protectiveness of you - just think about how Eleanora treats Iona and you'll get a close picture. It's not a steady trend; randomly spaced interactions suddenly have her hastily minding you: « It's too dark to go visit W'ren, dear. Gnaedath is certainly asleep by now. » This sudden leap in modesty will not be limited to men, or male dragonriders, either - as she gets closer to her time, any rider of a male dragon might become a person to avoid. Even harmless family: « Izara? Oh, no no no, she's busy! Vsuviath said they were burning something somewhere far away. Far, far away. »

Hearthfires warm the human family, earthfires warm the draconic. She can relate with the fires down deep, and appreciate their gift that is given to her children, and will use that heat wisely. The sands are /her/ hearth, and her passion for her family can bring about a fire of protectiveness that will burn any that trod disrespectfully. There is a lot of danger in the world right now, and so a mother has to be especially vigilant, and especially shielding.

Mother’s shroud is the least penetrable and most encompassing. That loving shroud that she throws over her children, and will guard in every waking and sleeping moment. During this time Hestiath will not venture outside the hatching grounds, and surely if the clutch sire is not accommodating she will wither, so you might have to put the candidates or others to work to find a way to keep her sustained right there, but even then, with food brought to hatching cavern’s womb, she won’t eat much. Won’t linger over long on what she considers selfish desires at this time. She is ultimately The Mother, and a mother’s sacrifice for her children is endless and lovingly given.

And, just as Hestia the goddess was a personal as well as state deity, Hestiath the dragon is concerned with not only her own eggs, but those of all dragonkind. She will want to witness every clutching, visit every occupied Sands, no matter where on Pern they are or what you're supposed to be doing.

In order to rise
From its own ashes
A phoenix

-Parable of the Talents

I can't imagine a dragon not reacting to Thread. Her firelizard ancestors evolved to collectively hold an immense fear and abhorrence of the organism. Your dragon will exhibit that same instinct, but her hatred is not instantly blind. At first, she wants to know the specifics, its reality, and its fatal design. Once she perceives that, don't be hurt if at first she's hesitant. It is life after all, should we deny it completely? But dragons do not good philosophers make and Hestiath is a Protector. When she knows her home and her loved ones are jeopardized, the fight will come out of her full-glory! Too much, in fact. Self-sacrifice is an option, the highest in fact, so you'll need to be the logic to your life mate's contention.

Mind Voice:
Your lovely Hestiath’s voice dances sky-clad through the seasons of rebirth and fertility, when the lands are awakening from a long cold winter for a stroll through warmth, life, and love. The virgin sways to the harmony of nature around the ceremonial fire that crackles, flames playing fecklessly to the same jaunty tune. You life-love is bare feet in the fresh crisp spring grass, peepers peeping in your ear, the nightingale raising it’s voice to the darkness; she is spring and summer treasures from your childhood!

Remember those fireflies? Little fairies there in the cool summer twilight to charm you with their delightful ballet? When the pixies are away, the candles will play, and light your way. Hestiath is foxfire’s gentle radiance, and hearthfire’s warmth in the cool spring nights – she is light! Light your path, and illuminate your spirit the little queen will.

Darlin’, reach into your past. Reach into your childhood. Find everything that made you warm, safe, comfortable, and ever so happy. Grab for those memories of spring and summer and that is what you have. Touch upon the sound of that fantastic little garter snake slithering through the foliage; imagine what his skin sounds like as it slides across the hot summer stones. Hestiath’s voice is everything good about Spring and Summer. Everything that is good about life lived in sunshine.

Mind Scent:
Of course the scents of spring drift through your mind, daffodils, tulips, buds and bulbs, pushing through winter’s icy grasp to perfume your world. With spring showers there is always at least a little muck and mud, so earth’s wet loam lingers just beneath. Fresh and clean, that is spring.

The sun warms and dries, baking flora and transforming static foliage with bountiful blossoms that pervade the senses. Grasses are dried to entice their fragrance forth, while trees are warmed to emit their comforting woody scent.

That same woody aroma is transformed at the hearth, permeating not only with smoke, but home cooked meals, and other comforting homey smells that warm the spirit and soften the soul when the world around is frigid cold.

Physical Voice:
Sweet and soft as your mother's lullaby, Hestiath soothes man and beast alike with her golden-toned throat. Croons and warbles sound like honey as they gild the air. In times of danger, however, she will loose a stentorian trumpet to remind one and all of the goddess that she is.

Never the smallest, never the largest (Orlaith always seems to sprout up at the last moment), Hestiath bears the middle ground with the same calm acceptance she turns to many things. What tests her equanimity is the elusive Itchy Spot - it's never in the same place twice, not even between one moment's scratching and the next. Patrician-inspired, the gold will never ever be lean, but curvaceous and healthy: inspiring.

Eating Habits:
Now this may be an entire all-day affair. If anyone asks, say it's an exercise in sadistic patience. Hestiath's first motions are to read the herd. She gets close enough to observe, but gains a distance where they will not be too wary. You might train her to select the poorer examples of breed, but when she does make the kill, the sacrifice itself is a coup de grace of quick clemency. Then comes the deliberation: the eating of the haunches first with speed not part of the itinerary. Often the horns of bovines or wherry feet will be left, you might think, in homage, but really those are the less digestible parts.

How else could a queen, a mother, a goddess, a priestess move, but with a sedate and stately flow that carries both dignity and compassion? She is the grace of restraint, an unconscious bearer of careful timing, and always knows the correct moment to pause and smell the flowers, so to speak. Never will she rush or hurry, unless there's a life in danger that must be protected, and even then she's spared cumbersome paces. Airborne, her wingbeats are steady and sure as the warm heart that powers them.

Weyr Relationships:
The child in each of us
Knows paradise.
Paradise is home.
Home as it was
Or home as it should have been.

Paradise is one's own place,
One's own people,
One's own world,
Knowing and known,
Perhaps even
Loving and loved.

Yet every child
Is cast from paradise—
Into growth and destruction,
Into solitude and new community,
Into vast, ongoing

-Parable of the Talents

Hestia was first-born of the titans Cronos and Rhea - first born and first swallowed, for it had been prophesied that one of Cronos's get would overthrow him just as he overthrew his father Ouranos. Mild as the goddess may be, she has a strong sense of her own dignity and this affront would never be forgotten. So too you, Imogen, were the first Candidate to be accosted by Xanth, a nemesis to your garden from very early on in your life at Fort Weyr. It will not seem so unusual, then, if your dragon cleaves more to Eviyath and Ikaroth than her own parents - Sidijith she has no specific quarrel with, but an antipathy towards Xanth she picks from your mind and holds to, against this dragon who has made you cry even if he himself has long forgotten.

Hestia's Roman priestesses, the Vestal Virgins, were emancipated from their father's houses and therefore had many freedoms ordinary Roman matrons were denied. In this Hestiath and Orlaith find complete collusion: their freedom from the fetters of males. Orlaith is her sister in spirit, if not in ichor.

It isn’t that Hestiath loves the status quo; rather, she reveres the minute details that make up life. The small moments are precious, and the grander design will work itself out in time. Orlaith, as vanguard of the new, upsets Hestiath’s concept of the world and interrupts her steadfast enjoyment of what Is, rather than what Will Be. Prepare for some rivalry.

Inspirations… (any themes used, what inspired creators)

Egg Inspiration:
Vyune: For me, this is the quintessential sign of Fall - woodsmoke hovering on the edge of twilight so clear nothing seems real. At the same time, scenting it on those crisp evenings fills me with yearning for the home I never had - some cosy New England cottage with a blazing hearth to warm the winter nights by. It's simultaneously uplifting and poignant.

Name Inspiration:
It was all you. The goddess Hestia was your idea and we gladly obliged.

Dragon Inspiration:
Moonbow/Moonshadow. I was knocked over by how well this song fit. It's the eternal optimist. It's for you, Imogen: - Moonshadow by Cat Stevens.

Imogen, you are our angel, our bright smiling face with the sweetest voice, and enough love for a whole game full of friends. You love big, and we love you big back! Hestiath is the awesome dragon that we really feel you can grow into and won’t lose her shine, but rather grow with you, right into the time when you start playing alts that are Imogen’s great grandchildren. It’ll be a blast and we’ll be right there with you, gumming the keyboard because our arthritis is too strong to type, flirting, having snow fights, rolling in the leaves, and swimming seductively in the lake. We will always be here for you, darlin’, always.


Iona and gold Orlaith
Izara and brown Vsuviath
Kyana and green Jianth
O'diah and blue Alysiuth
Taini and gold Birgith
T'jano and green Mrrth
Thera(Esther) and brown Hadamarth
W'ren and bronze Gnaedath

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