#qei

Just in front of him movement causes his eyes to snap open. The line of trees, similar in size and fragrance to the one he has his hands pressed into, rustles gently and part to make way for an elder Person of Aeilur that, if he stood fully, stands a head taller than him as he is. She would be much taller if he were to assume his natural form. She is clearly older by the way the tip of her trunk curls back in toward her body, opposed to the loose display typically sported by the younger members of the populace. It is a much tighter, almost arthritic hold that curves her trunk.

The other tell is the way her thick sea of tan fur is interrupted by flashes of silver and white streaks, primarily along her arms and across her head. From her head sprouts, uncharacteristic for these gentle giants, twin braids that swirl a good deal of of her longer graying furs down the left side of her face, past the round lobe of her ear and drawing attention to the string along her neck that holds four small tusks close to her chest. The longest of which with a point that stops right where her first set of arms begin. He figures these are from children or grandchildren.

She stops when she sees him, clearly having not expected to find a stranger in this clearing, and he makes quick work of getting to his feet. Then he lowers his head to her with one of the hands from his lower set extended to her, palm up. A show of respect he both read about and saw with his own eyes when the sisters he watched play were wrangled in by an older male.

This elder female closes the distance between them and unfurls her trunk to tap his palm gently, signifying her acceptance of the gesture. When she takes a seat beside him, he pauses before joining her.

“[I must be honest with you],” he starts in her language, but she cuts him off with a quick trumpetting before her trunk recurls.

“I know you are a visitor,” she says in galactic standard, much to his surprise, that does not fit properly in her mouth. “You can stay as you are.”

Qei nods and sits, once again allowing his hands to press into the trunk of the tree.

A sound like a hum vibrates her trunk.

“You like the jam tree?” She asks, reaching a hand to pet the tree's furs.

“Jam tree?”

“That is how visitors call it. It is good for making jellies,” her amused trumpeting does not end, further mangling the standard that does not fit around her tusks. “Here we call it Ahmhavar.”

“Ahmhavar,” he echoes the localization of what could be translated as ‘perfume tree’. “I can speak the Language of Aeilur. If you wish.”

“I can use the practice in standard.”

“Very well, I am Qei’eleritte,” he offers, butchering his own name in the process. The language of his people fits as well in his mouth as the galactic standard does.

“That may be too much for me,” she laughs and it is influenced by the pitch of her trumpetting. “Will you accept the playname of Ahmhatet? Unless you have already been named by one of mine.”

“Perfumed visitor?” He muses.

“You cannot deny its accuracy.”

He laughs too, soft and low in comparison to hers. “I accept Ahmhatet as my play name.”

“Good, my home name is Gihaiya,” and he thinks it is very special that she would share her family name with him, indicated by an inquisitive head tilt and trumpeting on his part. She waves the unspoken question away and continues, “But my play name is Eyha.”

“A pleasure, Eyha.”

Eyha nods her head in acknowledgement, but turns her attention back to the direction she came from. “Were you with the visitors that helped my people?”

Qei grips the tree behind him a little more firmly than anticipated and feels the fur on his hands mat with from the stick sap that is urged from the spongy base. The smell of rose and orange blossom intensifies significantly, which is not unwelcomed. He’d almost allowed himself to forget the disgrace to Cardalith that Falarittus and their scheme to take over Aeilur were.

He sighs and his proboscis produces a sound similar to a deflating balloon.

“I was there, yes. I ended his cruel game myself.”

“In that case, maybe you need a hero’s name, too.”

“I was only cleaning up a mess I let happen. Someone like that should never have been made to look after any lands. Much less did they deserve a paradise like Aeilur.”

She trumpets again, this time a chastising sound, and he lowers his head. “No. It matters that you helped make it right. The mehi does not fly from its nest before it is ready.”

“Yes, of course.” He acquises while also making a mental note to find a resource that will tell him more about the avian species, of which Aeilur houses many, she referenced.

A moment of peace lingers between them and before they can continue their conversation, something that sounds like a small stampede comes rushing in from the direction that Eyha faced. Qei guesses that it must be some smaller Aeilurians scampering towards them and then steps from someone much larger lagging behind.

Three children of Aeilur pop into the clearing, two younger ones chasing after the larger one, and each letting out delighted high pitched squeals when they spot Eyha.The two smaller ones had similar tan coats to Eyha, the older one’s coat was closer to black.

They waste no time piling into her lap.

 “[Now, now, little ones. Did you leave dad behind?]” She chides, lifting each one of the calfs to press her forehead to theirs one after the other and setting them on their feet again. 

“[He moves too slow!]” The largest of the three protests and the other laugh along with her.

“[Of course. This is my new friend,]” she gestures to Qei. “[He is a visitor.]”

The two small ones suddenly develop a touch of shyness, as though prior to this they simply did not register that a stranger was present. The oldest one moves in close and raises her trunk to him.

“[I am Hajiya! That is my play name. Do you play?]”

“[I do play, Hajiya,]” he replies, lifting his trunk in greeting as well.

“[What do they call you when you play?]”

“Ahmhatet.”

“[Because you smell good?]” And she follows up with a laugh, something akin to a giggle snort. “[Will you play with me, Ahmhatet?]”

Qei looks to Eyha who nods her encouragement. “[You will have to teach me your games.]”

“[We will! Come out here Heiha and Hafrahe. Lets teach the Visitor Ahmhatet how to play!]”

The smaller two run out again and rush Hajiya, causing the trio to tumble over into the grass where they begin a playful wrestle, Heiha and Hafrahe clearly having forgotten their shyness in the meantime.

After a short while of watching them tumble around, Qei offers a feeble, “[I may not be able to keep up with that energy,]” that Eryha laughs at and the children seem to ignore, having moved on to what appears to be a game of tag that sends the trio zigzagging about the clearing.

“You never want to tell a calf, much less a group of them, that they have too much life to keep up with,” a new voice offers in standard from the direction the rest of the family entered from. “They will use the information against you.”

This newcomer’s coat is darker in color, closer to the shade of Hajiya’s coat, and much shorter to the point that some of the pinkish skin beneath can be seen from certain angles when the wind blows it. If Qei has to guess, he would say that he and the man are around the same height and age group.

He sits directly near Eryha.  “Or do you not spend much time with children, Ahmhatet?”