Striated in bands of varying thickness, with hard shells studded in pink inflorescences that bud naturally with the changing of the seasons or in the profusion of other Rhein, they are a cautious people subject to regular temperamental changes brought on by shifts in their surroundings that seem trivial to other species. Inhabiting a world of extreme unpredictability, they at first evolved these measures to counter an innate shyness that otherwise likely would have relegated them to premature extinction. Steep walled gullies were the singular places of peace accessible to them in the earliest stages of their development, and it was only after reaching a substantial level of technological literacy that they felt comfortable in attempting long-term inhibition of the planet's wide open plains. This doesn’t mean that they were unfamiliar with those harsh prairies in the past however, being forced to regularly trek in caravans from between their fertile homes once food supplies were exhausted. Gale force winds constantly buffet the low-lands, whereas the arduous cliffs that they relied on for safety simultaneously rendered perhaps the only tracts of arable land on the planet untillable except for in extremely small plots. Either way they were a people who never experienced an agricultural revolution, but who continue even today to pluck fruits from the trees that they once huddled beneath at nightfall. Rhein put forth sweet tasting fruits of their own which supplement some of the buds that they otherwise exhibit, although to eat one of these is forbidden, and considered highly socially taboo. In some traditions however they are shared with acquaintances to demonstrate appreciation, or are exchanged to consummate betrothal of some kind.
Likely descended somehow from slender cactus-like plants that continue to proliferate in valleys across their home world, they are seemingly a gauntly expressioned people whose exterior ‘faces’ are simply part of a durable exoskeleton that protects their bodies inside from being dashed on the rocks. Despite having external colourations that range from dark green through to brown, their delicate forms within are hued only in alternating stripes of rose and lavender, manifesting on the outside as small flower buds. Although seemingly set in constant grimaces, the hollow nooks they have in place of facial features are actually just hewn into their outer shells to provide eyesight and a way of communicating verbally at all times. Otherwise fully enclosed to protect their heads, these can be coaxed to open when in the proximity of others of their kind. They are incapable of doing this at will, hence why it is essential that they have a simple way of getting food into their mouths. Their exoskeletons only pry themselves open when in agreeable weather conditions, requiring that the air is quite still and that an excess of particles are not being hurled around, additionally pressure differentials must not stray too wildly lest they close up prematurely. Most individuals ‘faces’ split apart along vertical axes close to the line of symmetry, revealing their true features hidden beneath. They have narrow eyes that seem to be squinting, and this is a way of further filtering out the debris that seeps inside. They have an especially large flower which buds directly atop their heads, this one wilts only when they are in poor health and is a good indicator of their age and physical condition inside. Strangely the side which this flower takes when their shell splits open is usually indicative of their dominant hand, and certain rare individuals have a small chunk of carapace which remains attached to the top of their hands, giving the otherwise bald species the strange implication of hair. Bizarrely it is only these rare Rhein who are ambidextrous, leading some to believe that the wiring of their brains is influenced at least in part by their shells.
They are noted for their hushed exclamations, uttered with lengthy vocal chords that provide both genders with a husky voice. They have a habit of using only very succinct sentences, and come off as shy, an impression redoubled by their strange stillness - commonly interpreted by other species as timidity. In fact it is a trait that they picked up to weather the gales they would be faced with on the open plains, but seems in part also to be because of the stiffness of their outside components. There is an interesting relation between their interior and exterior constituents, and it is unknown whether a Rhein would be able to survive divorced from the fibres of their protective shell, although they are connected to it only where flowers bud along their limbs and head. Born completely enclosed, it can be a long time before a fracture line develops enough to split apart, and until then parents will never have seen their child's face, and so they name them for outside appearances instead. The opening of the head is equivalent to another child learning to walk, signalling their passage from being an infant into early childhood. Rhein children are capable of standing all on their own from birth (aided by their shells), and learn to walk extremely quickly.
In the galaxy at large they form communities who live on as isolated a world as they can find, frequently enamoured by the paradises that they have stumbled upon and quite unwilling to share them. Interestingly despite being suited for arid environments they have a particular love for the tundra, and are often the sole inhabitants of planets covered completely in ice or snow. This was how they first encountered the adventurous Go-gong, and ever since have shared a connection that has seen the Rhein begin to involve themselves slowly in galactic happenings. Often dragged along by their impulsive friends and picturing themselves as careful stewards, they are in actuality equally naive to the complexities of the galaxy, having been born along its furthest peripheries.