[There is no basecamp to be reached this time, no deep briefing beforehand where infiltration and subtlety are considered to be uniquely necessary— and so when Thrawn steps through the rifting pad all that meets his gaze is vibrant, misty viridian: a forest seemingly without end, filled with elusive creatures who now know one very real, very recognizable fear.
Humanity.
Thrawn at least does not fit that description, and so within short order his initial delve into the Vulphytes' world leaves him flocked by skittering foxes with curious eyes (and far more curious thoughts); all their questions patiently answered, though the kits in particular are tirelessly interested, and on more than one occasion Thrawn finds himself pausing so as not to unintentionally step on their rapidly padding paws.
But eventually the mist breaks. A subtle shift in milky white scenery, revealing a darkened silhouette against the light. An unmistakable glint of facial heat to Thrawn's infrared vision, and as if reaching a moment of simultaneous recognition the Vulphytes and their kits scatter, darting away into the underbrush—
Human.
Unsure of their affiliation while their back remains positioned towards the Chiss, Thrawn's hand rushes to grip the blaster at his hip, that artfully crafted weapon leveled in a clear warning— ]
SLAMS IN HERE also wildcard;
Humanity.
Thrawn at least does not fit that description, and so within short order his initial delve into the Vulphytes' world leaves him flocked by skittering foxes with curious eyes (and far more curious thoughts); all their questions patiently answered, though the kits in particular are tirelessly interested, and on more than one occasion Thrawn finds himself pausing so as not to unintentionally step on their rapidly padding paws.
But eventually the mist breaks. A subtle shift in milky white scenery, revealing a darkened silhouette against the light. An unmistakable glint of facial heat to Thrawn's infrared vision, and as if reaching a moment of simultaneous recognition the Vulphytes and their kits scatter, darting away into the underbrush—
Human.
Unsure of their affiliation while their back remains positioned towards the Chiss, Thrawn's hand rushes to grip the blaster at his hip, that artfully crafted weapon leveled in a clear warning— ]