The Cosmos Feels Lonely ☆ The Mandalorian

19

Leaning against the wall of the barn, sharpening her knife, T'rialow didn't notice the woman standing over her with an interested look.

"Are you Mandos friend?" The woman asked, suddenly making T'rialow jolt from the sound of a question directed at her.

Looking up from beneath her hood, goggles covering her eyes, T'rialow snarled at the Rebels shock trooper who suddenly sat beside her. She seemed unfazed by the sharp canines practically drooling, with elongated claws clutching a hunting knife in its paws. T'rialow was not normally inhospitable to new people, but she could smell the war reeking off of this woman's skins. Her pores practically clogged with blaster shot fire.

"Who's asking," T'rialow asked.

"Cara Dune," the woman introduced herself,"ex rebel shock trooper and mercenary on retirement."

"I'd say nice to meet you," T'rialow eyed, noticing the symbol on Caras face,"But you came here with the Mandalorian."

"So you two end on bad terms or something?" Cara asked, leaning her back on a wooden bar.

Growling slightly, T'rialow just wanted to disconnected from society,"what do you want?"

"Mando and I are going to check out the raiders," Cara informed,"thought you'd want to come."

"What do you really want," T'rialow asked, listening to the woman's heart beat.

A moment of silence slithered between the two, as if there was a python, and they were waiting to see which one it would strike at first. Throwing the rock down on the ground, T'rialow sheathed the knife and looked to the setting sun. Grabbing her goggles, she slid them down so that the strap hung around her neck.

Turning her sight back on Cara, she smirked at the sight of a slight shiver brushing over Caras form. She could smell the fear and interest rushing through her blood, she could hear the tinkering of her heart fluctuated.

She was being stared down by a prime predator, after all, its normal to feel a bit afraid.

"You need my sense of smell," T'rialow laughed, looking to the suns rays blessing the tree line,"Don't lie, I can tell. You humans are predictable."

She heard the sound of weight on the porch, and from the corner of her eye, she could make out the soft, grey silhouette of Mando. His blaster in its holster, his helmet freshly polished. With a sly grin, T'rialow hid her disgusted reaction, of course he'd polish up for the human girl. Never once had T'rialow seen his armour so well taken care of.

"Whats in it for me?" T'rialow asked, being difficult.

"Makes the job easier," Cara noted,"We'll know what we're up against."

Looking out into the distance, T'rialow strapped her old goggles back on, her sight zoning in on one thing only. Winta. She didn't want that girl to end up like her, without a home or family to go to. The mongrel may be pissed off right now, but that didn't mean her morals and values weren't in check.

"Do they have something of the raiders?" T'rialow asked, watching the little girl squat down in front of Omera, and play with the child.

The little girl stuck in the back of T'rialows mind was envious of Winta.

Suddenly, Cara held out a rugged piece of cloth, that looked to be a scarf worn barren and thin. Snatching it up in her claws, she aloud the stench of it all to waft into her nose. Biting down on her tongue, she held back bile of how horrid it stunk. How could someone possible wear something so horrendous?

Dropping it from her hands, she aloud the fabric to be swept up with the wind, as it was kicked up with all the dirt, dust, and oil particles that seemed to travel from the krill ponds. She had no need for it now, the path was practically outlined for her in a glowering line of anger and hatred. Closing her eyes, she reached out into the force, seeing a hazy image of a scaly creature cackling around a fire and biting on gold coins.

"Come on," T'rialow said, hauling herself up and making a beeline across the camp.

Crossing paths with Winta, she didn't stop or make eye contact with the little girl, who the others noticed looked out after her as if she was her hero. Mando realised that she probably was, although T'rialow would never now, he knew she made a good impact on a tremendous amount of people.

She was viewed as the underdog to the superiors, but to the inferiors, she was a warrior ready to fight.

Letting their bodies be shadowed by the darkness of the looming trees, T'rialows ears pricked at the sound of soft music coming from the chorus of bugs hidden within.  Following the scent of the raiders deep within the walls of the forest, the mongrel increased her speed whenever mando would take a step too close for comfort.

In the distance, she could hear rushing water streaming through the trees, crashing against the stone shores of the riverbank She couldn't remember the last time she went swimming, but somewhere in her memory, there was a little mongrel girl swimming in the icy waters of her old home planet. She had no care for the cold.

Dragging her fingers subconsciously on a bush blooming with flowers, T'rialow delicately took in the feel of soft petals between her fingertips. As she continued walking, passing the bush, Mando reached out and clipped a white flower, before storing it inside one of his pouches.

"There's more than one that intersected up here," T'rialow noted, smelling different scents clashing with the one she was trying to follow.

Suddenly, she smelled the strong stench of something she had grown to fear. Walking towards where the scent was leading her, she fought hard to push back the memory of this thing chasing her down in the darkness, as it crushed her family home as if it were a mere obstacle within its way.

She begged that she was wrong, but, rounding the tree she was saddened by the realisation that she was right.

There, on the ground, was a horrifying message of who these raiders were. Powerful. As the imprint of an AT-ST footprint laid there amongst the chaos of broken branches and shredded trees. T'rialow turned back and ran back towards the camp, not caring to listen to the screams from Mando and Cara.

They can look for the raiders without her, she needed to let her legs carry her, so that she may runaway from a dream.

So that she may run from a nightmare.