Olon's 11

(Expecting, but, hey, it's a public hanger!)

Kaddhur moves with a spring in his step as he enters the hanger. Before, he found the space oppressive: still far too enclosed for someone raised in the wide-open spaces of the Araran steppe, but tall enough that it reminded him that he could no longer reach any place he could see. Now, he can eye the tops of the freighters and the top-level maintenance catwalks with a possessive eye: he could go anywhere.

He considers seeking just such a vantage point, but realizes it would be unnecessary. He'd asked around Olon's crew for where to look, and so he walks left from the entrance he used, his four eyes searching.

Even four eyes might take a minute to spot Isond, mostly their feet at first, honestly, sticking out of an access hatch in possibly the smallest ship in the hangar. The wiggling might catch his eye as he scoots out, dropping to the floor next to the slim felinoid watching. "You're right, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. You know that shouldn't've worked, right? You leaving it like that, then?"

The bright plumage nearby definitely catches Isond's eye, and there's a flash of recognition at least.