Tiger, for being entirely out of his element and rather recently arrived, has settled in well enough. He has a tolerance for bizarre circumstances that outweighs culture shock, at least as long as he doesn't bother trying to use any of these weird machines. Except the food machines. That, he is quite happy to figure out.

So, he's here, a muscular fellow that's pushing the upper limits of human height, with heavy features, a jutting chin, and broad hands. His hair is curly and black, and hangs down past his shoulders. There's a double headed axe with intricate knotwork designs and a long handle strapped to his back, peacebound. He's not dressed to suit the weapon, just wearing a simple gray tunic-like shirt, belted and long black slacks. He got them somewhere in the station. Good to blend in. Blending in is exactly what he's doing, yes! He's even wearing shoes! He moves easily through the crowds, even though he often has to duck.

With a soft, pleasant expression, he waits his turn to select his meal at the mysterious food panel, and is quite happy to carry away a tray loaded down with fabricated meats and cheeses. He's already picking off bits to snack on while he hunts down a seat.