Mishka Larraq
Farmer's Daughter
Mishka sat upon a thin bed of trampled yellow grass, her legs tucked under her backside and the hem of her dress spread evenly around her. A crisp breeze caressed her face and billowed her hair as the evening sun creeped ever closer to the gray mountain range to the west. The base of the mountains was a sprawling silver forest of young Galek trees, eventually giving way to rolling hills covered in tall yellow stalks of grass and wild wheat. Mishka watched the wind flow in waves down the mountain, flow through the silver canopy of the forest, and race over the hills towards her. It made Mishka think of a golden sea, and she smiled. It may not be the home she knew, but the surface of Mandalore was alive again. The air was no longer toxic and the storms had lost much of their bite. It was a new, reborn Mandalore. But one that was ever changing.
Mishka's smile turned bitter-sweet as part of her longed both for the world she had been born into, and the hellscape that had dominated this region of the planet for the past few years. Week by week, the air, the sky, and the ground itself were in a constant state of change that somehow left Mishka feeling homesick. A sigh filled her lungs as she tore her eyes from the scene before her and brought them back down to the books arranged around her. Absently, she plucked a ceramic cup from the ground and sipped at the slowly cooling tea it contained as her eyes danced from one book to another. She had the books arranged by category and aptitude, each open to a specific page with numerous strips of cloth, paper, and straw sticking from each book, marking additional specific pages. Each book was old and worn, most having been purchased second hand or ordered from the public library of Bralsin. Directly ahead of her was "Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Guide for Mando'ade", a book she had gotten from her Grandfather many years ago. It was a classic on Mandalore and was the core from which many a Mando'ade built their understanding of the tactical threat Jetii and Dar'jetii posed on and off the battlefield.
For most of the day, Mishka had sat upon this grassy hill as she studied these books. Two small meals and a number of light stacks had been brought with her, along with a pot of tea. The meals and snacks were gone and soon the tea would be too. Mishka took another sip and was thankful that the heating stone was able to keep the pot hot for as long as it had. It was a lesson she had figured out a few weeks ago when she had first began these studying sessions. Setting her teacup down, Mishka plucked up a jumbled mess of a notebook and flipped back a few pages as she tried to ignore the headache that played at her temples in spite of the wind playing with her hair and the cool breeze kissing her cheeks.
Mishka's smile turned bitter-sweet as part of her longed both for the world she had been born into, and the hellscape that had dominated this region of the planet for the past few years. Week by week, the air, the sky, and the ground itself were in a constant state of change that somehow left Mishka feeling homesick. A sigh filled her lungs as she tore her eyes from the scene before her and brought them back down to the books arranged around her. Absently, she plucked a ceramic cup from the ground and sipped at the slowly cooling tea it contained as her eyes danced from one book to another. She had the books arranged by category and aptitude, each open to a specific page with numerous strips of cloth, paper, and straw sticking from each book, marking additional specific pages. Each book was old and worn, most having been purchased second hand or ordered from the public library of Bralsin. Directly ahead of her was "Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Guide for Mando'ade", a book she had gotten from her Grandfather many years ago. It was a classic on Mandalore and was the core from which many a Mando'ade built their understanding of the tactical threat Jetii and Dar'jetii posed on and off the battlefield.
For most of the day, Mishka had sat upon this grassy hill as she studied these books. Two small meals and a number of light stacks had been brought with her, along with a pot of tea. The meals and snacks were gone and soon the tea would be too. Mishka took another sip and was thankful that the heating stone was able to keep the pot hot for as long as it had. It was a lesson she had figured out a few weeks ago when she had first began these studying sessions. Setting her teacup down, Mishka plucked up a jumbled mess of a notebook and flipped back a few pages as she tried to ignore the headache that played at her temples in spite of the wind playing with her hair and the cool breeze kissing her cheeks.