Recent content by Aran Mateu Jan Vidal

As Aran Mateu followed the pair to the sleeping marteness, he felt like he was going to be sick. Looking down at her sleeping form only made it worse. She suspected nothing; she'd gone to sleep without a fear of reprisal from anyone in the unit, much less the marten who had given her a ques...

Aran Mateu had been laying awake, his mind churning with the thought of what was to come that night. Could he really attack another marten who had done nothing more than show up one of his friends in training? Was Thalia even his friend? Was Tomas? They'd been nice to him, but maybe they were...

Aran Mateu's eyes widened at the pair's warnings, trying to parse through all of the myriad aspects. "Wait," he asked, lowering his voice. "There are beasts who hate foreigners and foxes both? But isn't the Imperium fox-majority, or fox-run at least? The Empress is a fox." He glanced over at...

Aran Mateu started at the origin of the dice. Did sharks even have bones, he wondered? Would they be like fish bones, all thin and bendy? He couldn't imagine that making for good dice. Then again, even if Thalia was making the story up, it was still a good one, and she still had the dice. So, he...

Aran Mateu struggled to follow the conversation for a moment; Vulpinsulan speech had such a strange manner of winding through several topics at once, and even after so many years in the Imperium, he sometimes found himself hard pressed to follow the thread of narrative. It took him a solid...

Aran Mateu watched the pair interact, intrigued by something in their body language. Were they perhaps...? He knew that such was permitted among the Vulpinsulans, though he'd never known anyone with such preferences before. Miklar was more traditional when it came to such things; while a certain...

Aran Mateu felt his fur bristle at the slur, and he decided against mentioning the ganive tipal knife and stick pair he'd stashed under his pillow. "I'll take my chances," he stated shortly. He paused, considering pointing out that he wasn't Alkamarian, but instead he moved on. Something told...

Aran Mateu had taken longer to scrub his uniform than most, treating it with care to rub with the weave and not against it, and that cost him in time to pick a bunk. His eyes scanned the options, dismayed by what he saw. If he bunked just under the banner, would it be seen as performative, given...

Aran Mateu reconsidered his statement as well. Was it worth making enemies here? Then again, it seemed like he was doomed to it by proximity either way. If he tried to stand alone, he'd wind up with no allies, and these Vulpinsulans seemed inclined to make enemies just to pass the time. Being a...

Aran Mateu couldn't help but feel slightly disspirited as his idea for a peaceful form of payback was roundly rejected. He was swiftly realizing that violence wasn't a first method of solving problems among these beasts, it was the only method of solving problems. That he could respect, if they...

Aran Mateu watched the fight, disconcerted by the randomness and the unorthodoxy of the tactics. Surely, he thought, the drill sergeant would step in - "WHOEVER LOSES GETS CANTEEN AND BARRACKS CLEANUP DUTY FOR A WEEK, WORMS!" Oh. With that extra bit of context, one part of Aran Mateu chewed...

Aran Mateu's spirits crashed as the stoat rejected the out he'd offered her. It seemed that she and the ferret were gunning for a fight no matter what, and the only question was whether or not Aran Mateu would be caught in the middle. He was already on thin ice with the drill sergeant, and while...

Aran Mateu found himself stunned as one of the other recruits casually said what had been on his mind. He actually had to check the expressions of the other recruits to make sure they weren't looking at him, in case he'd accidentally uttered it out loud and just assigned the act to another in...

Aran Mateu nodded, recognizing that the Colonel's appearance was significantly different from the todd who had rescued him. He didn't know how he felt about seeing his savior standing next to the Canh. "It's not a very good likeness," he confirmed. "I think he's a little taller too. I guess they...

Aran Mateu started at the question; he'd been staring at the mural, or, well, more glaring at it. The scarred face of the Canh on the wall, memorialized as a hero, sat uneasily with the Miklarian. He'd heard stories from his father of when the latter was a young lad, and the Canh and his...