Three large gold-hued Multi-Segment eyes peered down at Florian, and Mooray emitted a lengthy liquid squealing sound, as if he was gurgling a thick syrup, interspaced with fast clicking as his tusks drummed together. Florian brought up his translation routine. ‘Greetings, my friend Florian of the land,’ Mooray was saying. ‘Are you meat hunting again this night?’ Florian took the modified flute out of his pocket and positioned the castanets carefully in his right hand. Using Vatni speech was a prolonged operation, even for an Eliter, but the routines governed his lips and tongue movements, allowing him a decent stab at speaking Vatni directly. ‘My gratitude to you for seeing me, friend Mooray of the water. You are correct in thinking I would hunt this night. Will you honour me with your presence?’
At this part, I just had a big, fat smile on my face. The imagination and level of detail in the description of even small, day-to-day stuff are an important part of why I love to read Hamilton's books.