･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
Graya, known only as the number 515, was subjected to horrific Sith alchemy on Arkania a decade ago. Rescued by Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn smuggled under the darkness of Coruscant's underbelly, she was taken into the guardianship of...
A/N: From the bottom of my heart I am unbelievably moved by the messages I have received. I had no idea this would take off as it did, but I'm forever grateful to each and every one of you. I truly love this universe. The encouragement to update has really helped. Keep kicking my butt into gear: I need it sometimes 😉
Just wow. I poured my heart into this. GIF created by me. Enjoy🤍
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THE PAITNNU WETLANDS—MOENIA,NABOO
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IT WAS THE IDEAL "ARTIST RETREAT." A city of dreams for an educator's profession afforded opportunities within the homeworld's most respected universities. It influenced sonnets from the most prolific writers and musicians whose haunting symphonies were often strummed from instrumentals; their muses founded in the ethereal ambiance, that cloaked the urban metropolis. Along the bogged crags of the Paitnnu Wetlands, the perpetual haze left a dreamlike quality that influenced the Galactic Moon Festival haunts each standard year.
Like the capital of Theed, the city was known for its unique architectural beauty. A blended fusion of earthen tones crafted of sun-kissed stone with lush verdant surroundings mimicked the gentle undulations of the landscape. The graceful archways and glass-domed edifices captured a craftsmanship's harmonious balance between Nabooians and the planet's natural environment.
Milliflower bloomed along the cobblestone streets they traversed with a tranquility. It eased their pace as they stepped into the heart of the city.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to the mystique of this place. You'd know the drawing of evening from the grasslands, but here... nadè."
A cloying humidity settled like an invisible spectral. Sweet nectar off sapflowers nestled in the bordering marshes, carried a rich medley of scents. There was delicate brininess laced in the air with an aquatic nuance.
"You act as if it's a surprise, Kye." She smirked, her chin tucking in with an accompanied wince. Gossamer awnings of the market district protected her skin from the elements, but the gelatinous wound still prickled from suffused heat.
It was nearly overwhelming, the sudden assault of sights, scents, with the resonances of merchants shouting their wares. Lush flora and a whiff of perfumes, combined with an earthly loam saturated into the fresh produce cultivated by ranchers of the surrounding terrains. Those of affluence were dressed in fine karlini silks bearing an exotic array of spices.
"Ah, gàd, Graya. Ever stubborn as a tusk-cat."
She eyed him pointedly. "I'm going to give you a parsec to retract that curse. Before I use mother's milliflower powder to send you into a coma."
