EIGHTEEN. wreaths of golden petals! ｡･:*:･ﾟ✧｡･:*:･ﾟ
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
With the child safely bundled in her arms, Zoya makes her way through the village back to the barn, where the little crib sits. The Mandalorian had come with her to check on him after the battle, and they'd found the kids scared and huddled together, but healthy and unhurt. Luckily, the hut they'd been sheltered in was untouched by the AT-ST's assault.
Grass flattens beneath the soles of her boots, worn and soft from years of use. The child gurgles and lifts its hands to touch her jaw, shadowed heavily underneath the midnight black canvas stretching infinitely above them.
"Hey cutie pie," Zoya murmurs, smiling widely without abandon, knowing no one can see her. The child brightens in response, tiny fingers clutching at her face. She hugs the small creature closer for a moment as she reaches the steps leading up to the barn. A wreath of golden flowers encircles her heart as he lets out a little sigh against her neck.
She pushes the door open, squinting in the blackness. Mando must not be home yet, or he would've lit a candle for them. Zoya tiptoes over to the crib, stepping carefully in order to not trip with the baby in her arms. When the faint outline of the small, wooden bed is visible, she places the child carefully inside, giving him a soft, light kiss on his little forehead.
Zoya stands watch over the creature as he falls asleep, eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness of the barn as his breaths become heavier and his small hands relax where they lie against the soft blue blanket she'd draped over him. Finally, when it's clear he's dead to the world, Zoya turns to leave, but something catches her eye.
Next to the pallet pushed against the wall, covered with piles of the Mandalorian's equipment, is another bed of nearly the same size, made up with a couple thin blankets and a slim pillow. An aggrieved sigh tumbles from Zoya's lips.
"I didn't mean in here, Omera," she mutters aloud, exasperated.
The child stirs and releases a tiny snore from behind her, and Zoya bites her tongue, casting a wide-eyed glance back towards the crib. Instead of waking, the creature merely shifts, arm flopping off its chest. She exhales, relieved, then stares back at the extra bed Omera had brought into the barn, contemplating her options.
"Zoya?"
At the sudden voice from behind her, Zoya nearly jumps out of her skin, whirling around and reaching for the holster at her hip. Mando holds up his hands, moonlight pouring through the window to reflect off his visor.
