Starchild

Two of them....Who knew Xaallo was harboring so many fawns! Shame they were too small to tuck into her pouch; a baby makes everything more fun. Faalnah peered past the larger of the two children to smile at the shy one. "My my, where is your guardian? I hope this buck doesn't just let you two wander alone."

"Oh!" Her surprise was, admittedly, more casual than genuine. The leader of this cohort had warned her of non-margaven members. Faalnah slowed to a stop and sniffed the hatchling in return. "Hello there, little one." ...Well, maybe not little, but certainly not grown.

She’s wandering about the TRIAD after a long talk with Xaallo, no destination in mind. So much had changed and yet...so much was very much the same. This would be a fine arrangement, she just needed to...let everything sink in. And maybe get a snack.

“Natives? Of course. I am a guest on this planet, after all.” This land was green and lush, much brighter and more humid than the arid plains of home. It was...unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. Everything would have to be taken in stride, for the time being.

The Hifrii dipped her head, her long mane falling over her eyes as she did so. “I see...Then yes, I will gladly accept your offer. There is much I am yet to know, as it seems I have been disconnected from the galaxies for...longer than anticipated.” Faalnah looked over this stranger, scrutinizing his appearance. He was on the smaller side, with only one set of arms and short, straight antlers. But he was well-groomed and carried himself proudly. Yes, she decided, she could trust this young man. “Might I ask your name? I am Faalnah Su’rael of the Hibernaculum. Although the circumstances are not ideal, it is a pleasure to see another of my kind.”

“Tell me...what year is it?” She tilted her broad head in the buck’s direction, her gaze steady and earnest. This was no joke, unfortunately; it was a genuine question. “And is this planet governed under the Confederation? I need to contact them of my status, they must be concerned in my absence.” Then again...this is the first Margaven she’d seen in many a day now. Perhaps he was a scout?

Faalnah lifted her head from where she had been watching the sheep wander. Her ears perked up, and heart...stopped. Was that...yes, it had to be! Her eyes widened as she rose to her feet. Yes, there was no doubt, this was a fellow Margaven. The doe opened and closed her mouth a few times, snorted, and then spoke. “It is yours, then.” Despite her obvious surprise her voice was...level, calm. She nudged the sheep towards him with her snout, and the animal trotted to his hooves obediently. While her stomach grumbled watching such a tasty snack leave she was...admittedly queasy after so long without solid food. “I mean no offense, the creature wandered into this pasture. I was...” She gestured to the codex and reader settled at her hooves. “Reading.” “I am not intruding upon your territory, am I? I wish no quarrel, young buck.”

@xaallo Who knows how long she had been on this planet, dormant. She only awoke once the power of her pod ran out. In that time she had spent it largely queasy and sedentary, occupying herself with the piles and piles of codex to sift through. So much had changed... Sitting in the middle of a meadow, Faalnah raised her head at the sound of hooves. Her nostrils flared. A fawn? Once her eyes met the creature, the hope died in her chest. A wool beast, alone... She eyed up the sheep as it grazed. Odd, to see one alone...

She gets an early start these days. Turns out that farming is a lot of work! The disguise she adopted isn’t as adept at digging as her own four limbs, but two extra arms has its advantages! Mina is standing outside, scattering feed as the chickens scurry out of the pen. It’s an early day for them, too.

so much drama over who to lay...this is why she’s strictly no strings attached

“Oh yes, who could forget that behemoth of a ship.” Pro’uhr chuckled softly. And it was just that, a behemoth. Large beyond comparison. They dump 5 cubes of sugar into Xaallo’s drink and stir. It wouldn’t all dissolve, but that means he’d have a bunch at the end of the cup is all. They turn and place the cup in one of his large hands and take up a cup of their own. “I appreciate the invitation, thank you.” The prince quietly blows steam from the mug, their pale gaze not leaving their friend. “But is it...wise? With all that your brother has seemingly caused, I don’t wish to be a bother.”

Oesh Lore | Oesh Info Namina | Character Sheet Pro’uhr | Character Sheet Faalnah | Character Sheet Mun Art Ooc chatting

Name: Faalnah Su’rael Gender: Hiifri, uses Sher/her Species: Margaven Age: equivalent of about 32-35 Sexuality: Sapphic Strengths: Faalnah is a Clasher, and an unusually large, masculine one at that. In her time, she had been famous for her battle prowess and immense size. She is a formidable foe in hand-to-hand combat and is generally not one to trifle with. Weapons: A boar-killing spear , in the case of margaven combat Alignment: neutral good Occupation: professional fighter Love Interest(s): n/a Likes: N/a Dislikes: n/a…for now Fears: losing relevance over time, never having children Wishes: to settle down and finall find a mate/family Personality: Faalnah, despite her career choice, is cool-headed and calm. Patient, calm, and motherly, Faal is far from the hot-headed stereotype margavens seem known for. She has an immense fondness for fawns and children of all type, and will often have a soft spot for young adults as well. History: Faalnah, some several billions of years ago, was a great and famous warrior. Not in any wars or battles, mind you, but in recreational sport. She traveled the land in search of both challenges and a mate, though only the former ever came to her. She was endlessly choosy, and, eventually, did not choose at all. It was only then that the Hibernacula Project was posed to her. A contingency plan, called upon by the royal house to recruit the fittest and strongest of Margavens. In the case that a great tragedy befell their people, a select few young, healthy Margavens would remain in stasis and be awakened to help the species. It was only natural she would accept such a proposition. That was billions of year ago. Her name has fallen to fable and periodic times of wakefulness few longer and longer. Now she is a stranger among her people, in a pod long-forgotten, and only recently has she awoken. Her small pod is filled to the brim with aeons of literature to educate herself on. But for her species, she is a small miracle.

Pro’uhr busies themself with the hot water on the stove, pouring two cups and reaching for a canister of loose tea. Their arm was no longer in a sling now; it instead sat in a nanowrap cast. While much thinner than plaster, it was itchy and they had been forced to shave down their fur and quills for it to stick. Said quills sat in a jar nearby almost innocently; only one experienced in their toxins would know their true danger. Their ears flatten as Xaallo speaks. They sprinkle tea into the larger of the two cups and stir with a spoon. “I...see.” Their voice flattens carefully, neutrally. “And you are coming to me for help? I...don’t have contact with any greater Aethan resources, not anymore. Sugar?” They reach up onto one of the shelves and pull a jar down. Small, white cubes of sugar jingle inside. “I could go myself. We aren’t affiliated any longer, nor do we look alike. If you have aid that needs distributed, that is.”

“Is that so? Oh dear..” Pro’uhr led the way inside their burrow, slipping inside easily. For a creature as large as Xaallo it was a bit of a squeeze, but only at the entrance. The interior widened out into a large, comfortable living space with a ceiling tall enough for even the Margaven to stand. Oesh were natural tunnelers and had innate instinct for safe digging. The main room was warm and spacious, with a clay-brick furnace venting outside. Much of the ship’s interior had been moved to this place, including tables and shelves. The floor was hard-packed clay and despite its terrestrial origins, was clean and dry. “Sorry, I don’t have any chairs that you’d fit in. But would you like a cup of tea? I think I still have a kettle on...”