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*:･ﾟ✧
Day is as savage and strong as a choice. It may be fashioned however one desires, as smart as urgency or as slow as conciliation. Though, just as the day as its end and beginning, a decision must be made and brought to action. Night is another matter. It is as appeasing and quelled as a conclusion. It is the aftermath, the outcome — always overlooked in a certain way, although brought differently to light by either will or power.
In Gaia's case, it's will.
She's wide awake despite the sky having been coveted black, entailed with stars as friends and planets as escorts. The domestic fire in front of her is breathing through the darkness. Molten liquid and smoldering stones gathered by a shovel fuel it, bestowed from the cracks in the earth, between ground and life near the output of their campfire. A slain Qartuum — a goat-like mammal, hangs skewered above the tossing flames. The whole party is relatively done eating although a few of them still has their teeth sunk down into pieces of roasted meat, including Cara.
Tranquil grunts from the blurrgs resound every so often. After some hours of roaming, they're well-off being tired and may now rest.
Easing Gaia with their noise, she glimpses Kuiil feeding The Child while Thero dotes endlessly upon him. The medic is in talks with Kuiil at the same time, unlike Cara who has settled herself farther away, in silence.
Above all, it has Gaia delighted, knowing how trustworthy and committed their little squad is. It dims, though, as her thoughts carts her in the opposite direction. It's toward her people and those that supposedly came across Kuiil's home, which distracts her. She hasn't had much time to think about it, but during the hours that she's known it, it has consumed her. There should be no choice to make, but there is. One she doesn't know whether Mando will concede with or not.
"Hey," Gaia turns to her companion, nervous and restless, "do you remember how I told you earlier that I had a lot to think about?"
Mando's head hangs sloped, drawn from the fire. "Yes, but with the way I perceived it, you thought it might become distracting to me."
Gaia clears her throat, sheepishly. There's a look of earnestness and conflict within her eyes, a look he doesn't well like and would do his utmost best to soften away. She nods in a forbearing manner then, and motions to the sidelines in want of a private conversation.
The gesture is adhered to.
"So," Gaia drawls, when they're a reasonable distance away from the others, "there's a few things, and they're sort of. . .complicated."
