The soft, dry snaps of branches breaking underfoot accented the hushed brush of cloth over foliage. Muffled and mellifluous birdsong came to him from a great distance, his passing undoubtedly an event worth music. Polished and treated, a shaft of wood parts a collection of vines and a hooded figure moved out of the treeline to peer over a mighty precipice. Vast and verdant, the Veldt spread across the scope of his vision to meet the austere heights of Zöld'nach, the Jade Fortress, capital city of Q'ab. The city's scale was magnificent. Seemingly cut from the surrounding mountain range, veins of coveted shalam pulsed with energy, powering it and the surrounding midlands. The emerald effulgence peaked through the constant veil of fog and rain that gave the Veldt an unparalleled and terrible beauty. The weald permeated a sense of great age, wisdom and even greater... loss.

It must have been the torrential rains that gave rise to the notion. Ever since his arrival over two cycles ago, the deluge had not relented. Xo'pil had spent nearly the entirety of that time sequestered in his studio in Zöld'nach's Ayatel District; his patron having assumed he'd be afforded more leeway with his... eccentricities if he was housed in the artisan quarter.  Although Xo felt it had less to do with sensitivity for his peculiar proclivities and was more to ensure that a lowly Azotl wouldn't fill one of the Governor's guest rooms with the heady musk his species had gained much ill repute over.

His chest rose as he drank deeply of the brisk air, much as he had done on his balcony which overlooked a terrace garden, its precise patterns etched from the very mountains itself. Often, he'd be lost in thoughts, seeking inspiration for the Governor's commission as his eyes traced the network of glowing capillaries of shalam that gave the rich topiary of the garden an uncanny semblance of life.

Here, the air was untouched by the heavy perfumes and incenses sold below his loft; the rich scents of cooking meats and pastries which sent him salivating. Instead, as the slits of his nostrils widened betwixt his brows, the heights of the Veldt brought to him naught but a heady pine smell and the musk of the beast he sought.  

Turning away from the cliff, Xo'pil began his preparations. Removing the small pack from his back, he fumbled through its contents until he had produced a thin ream of scrolls bundled together. Passing the ream over his shoulder, Xo's tail unwrapped itself from around his waist and took the scrolls as he returned to rummaging in his bag.

"Ah... here she is." He straightened, in his hands were three orbs with concentric circles of varying size creating unique patterns that were in a constant state of flux. He gave them a playful juggle as he coaxed her awake. "Come on Epit'li, we've work to do." A burst of light flooded forth from the grooved patterns before fading to a constant glow, the AI's version of a stifled yawn as it awoke from standby.

"Be a beauty Epy, and do a scan for any Orana in the vicinity. Huilo is back at the studio compressing the code for the cognitomatrix, so we might as well make a few pieces to sell off-world and get one step closer to never setting foot on another Cizran planet again."

While Epy set off in three different directions, Xo'pil removed one of the scrolls from the bunch and unfurled it, broadcasting a live feed of the drone's information gathering. With a slap against his forearm the malleable screen grafted onto his polyfeed jacket. He stuffed the ream into an inner breast pocket and proceeded to deftly climb up the tree.

Xo would give the occasional glance to his forearm, reviewing Epy's work as he gathered various mosses and heavy vines high above the forest floor. It was this perspective, no matter which hunk of rock he was on, that always flooded his mind with memories of Azot and his youth. Wonderful times, before the Empire came.