(no subject)
First, there's the confines of the ship. Dark, with wierdly geometric designs scrawled over the walls. The door to the outside world is just through, and it's open.
It's dark out there. Dark as twilight on earth. The sky hangs low overhead. There are recognisable clouds, layers and layers. The ones up top, when they're visible through gaps, seem to have color to them, almost an iridescent sheen. But the shadows between the clouds are too thick to easily tell.
Down below, it's brighter. It's neon. The rocks around them are glowing--flourescing, in fact. The moss is giving off faint white light; it's almost indiscernable at the smaller patches, but where it grows thickly, it glows. Fernlike balls drift over the surface, driven by the wind, flickering violet. Multitudes of glowing colors stretch out around them, from faint constellations to masses that Spoon could probably read by, far as the eye can see.
This is one of those worlds where the sky is dark and the ground is a starfield.
"See?" Cre'hktdi kicks a wispy globe of glowing fronds. It purples in protest as it bounces away. "No trees, no caves. Just moss and these plants. The animal life here isn't very diverse. But the air is breatheable for you and the gravity is not too light."