Rancid.The taste of recycled, pressurized air on the flying collection of ancient scrap to Gideon Xovos, the hundreds of smells unable to be carried away by a breeze. Methodically, Gideon ran his fingers along the patterned shemagh that lay over his robes, though the robes themselves only reached his diaphragm. Wrapping the scarf-like clothing around his mouth and nose he finally took a deep breath as if coming up for air after swimming. After pacing back and forth restlessly through uncountable repetition, he received a sudden kick to his leg as he passed a sleeping girl, the somewhat sharp pain disappeared quickly and she made some sort of profuse apology that he tuned out by the third word, she was surprisingly striking, so he stayed there for her sake. Once he confirmed she was finished he simply walked away, finishing his journey to the windows that overlooked the landscape.

Standing stock still similar to a stone statue, Xovos monitored the landscape until it was announced that the ship would be landing soon.
A silent exhale of relief.
Following a great deal of the other students out of the ship, each stride resounded with the quiet clicking of the two Mardemdievs that hung from the cloth on his back. Xovos didn't fit in all that well with his arid style of clothing, though it seemed he was simply a gem among a sea of sparkling jewels. The thought comforted Gideon ever so slightly. Lowering his cloth scarf so it rested under his chin, he took a deep breath. His facial expression, somewhat hidden by his hood, took on the look as if he had been grievously wounded
"Wet, like a soggy rag."