Equip Trait
Gain 1 SP when normal attacks hit an elite or leader enemy.
Equip Attribute Bonuses
| Stat | Value |
|---|---|
| max_hp | 150 |
| atk | 50 |
Talent Information
Info
Inflicts 28% Arts Fragility on all Aerial units within range
Info
Inflicts 30% (+2%) Arts Fragility on all Aerial units within range
Unlock Information
| Materials |
|---|
x2
x8
x5
x60000
|
| Missions |
|---|
| During battle, have Qanipalaat use Falling Snow a total of 10 times (excluding Support Units) |
| Clear Main Theme 2-3 with a 3-star rating; You must deploy your own Qanipalaat, and have Qanipalaat defeat at least 2 Heavy Defenders |
Operator
Module Description
Ieddne and Áhttje pull up young Qanipalaat by the hands, and walk through the snow that barely reaches to the knees.Measuring the tundra's breadth by their own two feet is a tradition of the sijdda's rescue team, handed down unchanged for several generations. It has been written into story, woven into folksong, taught by parents to their children while they still burble and babble, climb to their feet with a stagger, learning all the while.
There is a symbol that a child of the sijdda is young no longer, has become an adult who will weather the blizzards, and it is not by means of counting years, but by whether they can enter the tundra alone, and retrieve a knot of blessings that their parents tied to a pillar of ice in the snowy fields at their birth. His viellja and oabbá told him countless times, half in flaunting and half in earnestness, of being out there and what they saw, and it made young Qanipalaat look forward to it like nothing else.
The pillar, limpid crystal in its glimmer, stands upright and alone. Too wide for even ten to encircle, this frozen colossus shines in a pale blue. They drew the way they'd come on the bark of a massive tree upon the tundra, a tree that would stretch its branches further day by day, reaching for somewhere unknown.
When he said with all the grand aspiration in his heart that he'd join the rescue team when he grew up, his áhttje gave him a miniature hiking cane carved of wood. All about did he run in excitement, and confidently tripped straight over in the snow. Lifting his head up to look, his áhttje laughed as he pulled him to his feet, and the stars in the sky shone with a flicker, snowflakes perching on his nose.
Alone, he walks through the snow that barely reaches to the knees.
He's arrived at a place further than his viellja or áhttje have ever been, but he knows that's because the tundra is where his áhttje's life ultimately lingers, and his brother can no longer take on any assignments with his injured leg. The other members worry for Qanipalaat's young age, but he always stands at the very front.
He takes note of the peculiar phenomena, and when he returns, he describes them with care to those in his sijdda that compose folksong; in return for his lifesaving grace, the Columbian doctor accompanying him stays with the sijdda, and actively helps by examining people's ailments; Qanipalaat lies over the elder's lap and sweetly persuades, so the Liberi woman who often comes to see her mother may begin to converse with their most stubborn elder who nevertheless has witnessed the most of all, and in return she can share her newest discoveries.
He departs from his sijdda, and then returns bringing even more things. He runs on trip after trip, until finally, he falls straight to the ground as weariness takes its physical toll. And when those around him move to help him back up, worried, Qanipalaat wipes his face off and lies there on the ground, staring up at the snowflakes falling down from the sky.
'If a blizzard blows past the tip of my nose, that's my áhttje come to see me.'
And his áhttje's snowflake floats down.
