Tales of the Wide Spaces/002

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David Holderness looked across his desk to the group of applicants that had just been ushered in, and smiled; he almost showed his teeth, before, clamping down on long-held habit, he managed to keep his lips together. His briefing had been clear on that point. Some Çerid know what it means, if they've interacted enough with humans, he'd been told, but it's best not to rely on that. Among themselves, baring teeth is a sign of aggression.

Before him, a cluster of scaly, winged creatures with antenna-like structures sprouting from their heads regarded him with what could have been respectful patience, or, there again, could just as easily have been boredom or disdain.

The briefing had indeed been brief - it had, for instance, delivered only the most basic information about how to interpret Çer facial expressions. But from the sound of it, it had been unavoidable. For years, the pool of talent in Nouvelle Alexandrie for knowledgeable dealings with the desert creatures had been small, but also in very low demand. The wave of Çer refugees entering southern Alduria had rather abruptly changed the equation, and while more detailed information on the newcomers had been slowly disseminating, people familiar with it were in extremely short supply.