There was a massive man with a great black beard that reached the tip of his toes. And beside him, his wife, a woman of beauty with red eyes and hair as long as her height; in fact, all of these humanlike creatures had hair that matched their height. The large man's eyebrows were thick and covered his crimson eyes while he sat next to his woman, his only love and companion of life. Around their hut were many, and all were spherical. And then, a small girl entered the hut, but she tripped on her hair and fell to her face. The parents laughed, but the father's laughter shook the hut, followed by a cough that fell bits of hay from the roof. The little girl's eyes became shiny with the accumulated tears; what a shame, but it will be alright; they are but her loving parents. They opened their arms, and there she ran, and the frown turned to a smile, and safely, she jumped her parents, and they held her with indescribable love. All had grey skin, and all wore the same fabric: a coarse grey shirt with long and wide sleeves, and on the shirt ran a broad red stripe encircling it. And a pair of pants that could never be simpler, also in grey. Their eyes were a marble of crimson and blended with lines of soft black; their long hair was a fluff of dim black, spikey in nature, and it grew around their faces, covering their ears and the shores of their cheeks and foreheads. Their teeth were strikingly white, as white as the glittering stars above.
'Where is your brother, Arnitikós?' The mother asked in her native tongue.
The girl adjusted on her father's lap and complained, 'He was annoying. Why is he playing with Alsu'Ān instead of me!'
The father hearkened in a slow grunt.
'Are you jealous that Tetikós is playing with Alsu'Ān?' Asked the mother.
'Yes! Siblings should prefer their own instead of others. And now I have no one to play with.' The small girl pouted angrily.
'When's the last time you asked to play with your mother?'
'Well. . .' She was embarrassed.
'We love having joy with our children, too!' And then the mother pounced on the little girl, tickling her. The little girl laughed and tore in pure joy, 'Mama, stop it, stop it – I can't breathe!'
'See? Look at you are looking bright and sound. Join them, tell them mother says you should be included in whatever chase they play. Do not be miserable, my love.'
'Okay. Okay! I won't be miserable. I will ask them that I want to play, too!'
And then she ran out of the hut, feeling more confident to ask her brother and Alsu'Ān to join the games they were playing.
'Ántropós, your girl is growing up. She seeks inclusion now.' Said the mother.
Ántropós, the father, hearkened in a softer grunt. He was almost thrice the size of his woman and could probably hold twenty little Arnitikóses on all his limbs and five more if they hung on his back.
'Dear,' the mother called, 'do you yearn to see her grow up, making us grandparents?'
He held her soft hands with his bigger and coarser ones and replied in his deep voice, 'I yearn to see both of our children be as content as us.'
The mother smiled. She stood up, heading for whatever hut-related errands, and before she left, he called one last time, 'Tilikás, be wary of our daughter. Since the day she left your womb, I have sensed much pureness. She must not be broken.'
Tilikás nodded, carrying a bowl full of wet clothes. 'I've sensed that, too, my dear. Quite the opposite of the rash boy.'
Ántropós hearkened in a longer grunt.
Many years of that world later, the siblings grew. It wasn't a fair progression; the younger Tetikós grew taller and much bigger than his older sister. It was unfair because he never changed from being the same immature boy, although he now spent less time with girls and resided in boyish play fields. As for Arnitikós, she grew to be the perfect young Fûr'Ussaun girl. She is now a calm one. She was rarely outgoing, but most of her free time was spent on Alsu'Ān's side, daughter of Tiristós, the giant neighbouring Fûr'Ussaun. Alsu'Ān was both older and bigger than the average Arnitikós. She was loud and rough, and a soft mask hid her kindness, but her father's blood induced the behaviour of a muscular giantess, partaking mainly in heavy labour that other males were too wee and weak to do.
'Oh, Alsu'Ān!' Once called a lumberjack, musically, and the big girl came stomping across the fields.
'Someone called for a lift?' She replied upon arrival.
At first, anyone would be intimated by a giant child, let alone a girl, who sounds and acts rough, but this behaviour and appearance never bothered Arnitikós, and she grew fond of the unique friendship she had formed with this girl.
And they spent many stardawns and starsets and became keepers of secrets, each holding the other's key.
They laughed, they cried. All lived and prospered. Harmonious as ever since the dawn of this species in this world. It was a beautiful and soft symphony of a life devoid of anger and hate, one where death is celebrated and birth is mourned for.
One day, a tremendous cubic object eclipsed the star, and the residents of the planet sensed fear for the first time in their kind's history. The giant metallic monolith hovered the sky above the harmonious village, and a great shadow cast above them all. The cube roared and flew menacingly towards the ground, slowly, and everyone watched. Arnitikós watched, and she ran to a cave nearby to the village in fear, a sensation she never felt before, which had induced the instinct of survival, and she hid in the cave and covered her ears.
Wails filled the air.