And in the 11th Interval, dragons died.

A plague had swept across Pern, killing about two thirds of the dragon's population. Firelizards were also killed, but only about half of them. Whers, due to their genetic differences from dragons, were not harmed. However, the sickness did effect the single gold that was still living.

Within her womb, eight eggs were forming, and with them, a whole new legend came to begin.

Already, her handler was beginning the move to the Southern Continent. A hold was to be built, one free of dragons and the plagues that struck them. Whers would be the guards that protected them from Thread, methods to protect their eyes were already being discovered, and because of that, no diseases would be carried to the holdfolk. It was to be called Wher Hold, as that was how the gold referred to it when talking to her handler.

Finally, just before she was due to clutch, about half the population of whers transferred between. Their destination? Wher Hold.

Several months passed and it was finally the day of aging Marisk's hatching. There were more than enough candidates, so the eggs would be allowed to hatch and choose for themselves. First to hatch was a sea foam colored green, and she quickly found her bonded. Next were a brown, blue, and a bronze. Everyone agreed it was a good clutch, a good omen. And then, a screeching wherling erupt from its shell.

It stood proudly, its pure jet body looking like liquid silver yet at the same time black as between. In honor of this, the color would come to be called Midnights. It too, found its handler without difficulty.

Another dragonet crawled form its shell, but this time, it was a glistening pale purple with undertones of blues and stormy grays. She hesitated for a moment before bounding to her chosen, latching onto their finger to blood them forcefully. They were HER'S after all.

And finally, a dark burgundy hatchling tore through his shell, screeching defiance at the sharding thing and stomping towards the nearest male, headbutting him forcefully.

The last egg was feared to be dead, and all began to sigh and mourn its loss before with a triumphant bugle, a shining gold head broke through, a beautiful white gold wherling standing bravely in the awestruck room. She found her's easily, claiming Kaselia as her own.

But the hatching was not without sadness, for as soon as the final egg had hatched and bonded, the old goldpair slipped away quietly, betweening for the last time as age finally caught up with them.

The duty of training the wherlings fell to the sire of the clutch and his handler.

It is now two turns after the hatching and gold Kasesk has risen and been caught. Her eggs have been clutched onto the Sands, but seem to be hardening slowly. Despite this, the Search and word is going out for all prospective wher candidates to come to Wher Hold for a chance at impressing.