There’s no one in the shop with Daira today, the owner off somewhere or another again, so she hums in time with the movement of the Force-currents around her. She allows herself one final note when she feels a customer approaching, and then rises from her workbench and follows the thread into the front room as the woman enters. 

She looks briefly at the woman, and then closer at the droid she brought in with her, tilting her head thoughtfully at the metal flowers decorating the droid.

“You’ve come about the droid's leg?”

"Mmhmm. She's got a bent darnay drive, can you fit us in today?"

"Should be a quick fix, let me take a look. If it's just the darnay drive I can have that straightened out in half an hour."

"Great, thanks."

She helps Daisy onto the counter, care obvious in every movement, and deftly removes the leg plate.

"Looks like a bent darnay all right, and the wiring's a bit tangled up."

"I've heard it feels a little strange to have me poking around there with your sensors enabled, so I'm gonna turn those off in this leg, okay?" she murmurs to Daisy, reaching for her toolbox.

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you."

Daira hums softly to Daisy as she works, closing her eyes and letting the Force guide her hands for the fine detail work. When she picks up a new tool she lets Daisy know what she's going to do with it, warning her when she needs to turn her around to adjust the wires.

She ignores Pradnakt completely, except for the notes she adds to her humming that mark Pradnakt's presence in the Force.

Pradnakt watches, quietly so as not to distract the woman, resisting the urge to send a little ripple of acknowledgement to her.

Daira stands to grab something from a nearby shelf, and turns to Pradnakt when she notices her in the way.

"This'll be a little longer, problems with the wiring, you can go if you like. Should be done in an hour."

She's already moving out of the way as Daira notices her. "I'm all right, thanks."

Daira shrugs, and settles comfortably into her work.

"Who did the flowers?" she asks Daisy a little later while she's examining the darnay drive.

"Pradnakt did - my owner."

"They're lovely."

After a pause, she adds to Pradnakt, "Are you an artist?"

That gets a little grin. "Mmhmm."

Normally Daira would fall silent here, but there's a thread of the Force pulling her on and on and on and there's something here, she can hear it in the Force-song around her.

"Do you have any exhibits in the city? It's..." she waves her hands helplessly at Daisy's decorations, trying to somehow wordlessly convey her confused feelings about the way the flowers fit the droid, seem to have been made for her instead of around her.

"Nah, we don't come in very often. Out in the desert, though, yeah. You could come see it sometime, if you like." And now there's a ripple in the Force - nothing of Sith in it, her control is too good for that, just a demonstration that she, too, is a Force-user.

Daira freezes.

And Pradnakt tenses up, even as her presence in the Force returns to neutral-neutral-neutral. "- I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're - either Sith or Jedi - hiding, for some reason - here." A pause, remembering the way the Force-song had twisted around Prandakt, and her gentle way with the droid. She sinks deeper into the Force around her, trying to understand or looking for comfort, she isn't certain. "What do you want from me?"

She relaxes as it becomes clear that Daira isn't going to attack. "I don't want anything. You've been good to my droid, and it seems like you could use - a friend, or some training. Something."

"You're - a Sith or a Jedi, and I don't want to be either. And I don't think I'm very good at having friends."

"I am," she acknowledges, though she doesn't lower her shield. "But you don't have to be. And," shrug, "I don't know what you need, yet; maybe a friend, maybe not. But it's pretty obvious that there's something."

"Show me," she says abruptly, "tell me that without your shields." 

"All right. Away from the droid, please, I don't want her hurt if you panic."

Daira sets Daisy into what at least looks like a more comfortable position, takes several measured steps away from the counter, and looks steadily at Pradnakt.

The shield goes down.

It's not, actually, immediately obvious which she is. By reputation, Sith have an aura of doom; she doesn't have the slightest one. By reputation, Jedi are calm, disconnected; she's not, and the Force plays in her amusement and concern and curiosity. She's clearly powerful with it, surrounded by an intricate weaving of Force effects with unclear purposes - perhaps supplementing her senses - and she has a lightsaber at her hip.

"I'm really not going to hurt you," she repeats, and her earnestness is obvious.

"Oh," breathes Daira, "you're beautiful."

She reaches out with the Force, clumsily, not sure herself what she wants to do aside from be near her. Daira's never seen a Force-user, not like this, and she looks at Pradnakt as if she was seeing the sun for the first time. 

"We are, yes." She reaches back, gently, a wordless sense of greeting coming through when their tendrils meet.

She sends back awejoyhopewonder foundme beautifulbeautifulbeautifulbeautiful.

(If Pradnakt is paying attention, she might feel mygoldenMari should'vehadthis, but it's a quiet undercurrent and gone before Daira even notices.)

She holds the connection for another moment, and then lets it fade. "Not bad, for no training."

Daira stands still for a moment, letting the Force flow over her. Then she smiles, soft and uncertain. "So I... go with you, like you said?"

"If you'd like, or I can give you directions. We shouldn't stay long."

"I don't have - a lot here. I've only been on-planet six months, would've left soon anyway. I should warn the owner of the shop, he'll- oh!" she says, turning to Daisy "I still need to finish your leg. But once I'm done I just need to gather some things and then we can go." 

"We can wait a little while. Do you have a speeder?"

"No, just a couple bags."

"That's fine, we can get one. Once we're done here."

Daira nods, and moves to start working on Daisy's leg again. 

Pradnakt drifts back over to Daisy, too. "All right, Love?"

    "I think so, yes. We should get some supplies, while we're here, I'm not sure if enough of the garden will be left to support two."

"Yeah, good point. Anything else, while we're here?"

    "I don't think so."

"All right."

At "love", Daira blinks in surprise, and then smiles. It's not the sort of kindness anyone would think to fake, and if Pradnakt speaks like that to her droid... well, Daira would go with her no matter how she speaks to her droid, but it was heartening. You couldn't lie with the Force, Daira knew, but that didn't mean you couldn't mislead, and as much as she wanted to, she couldn't put all her trust in that beautiful Force-song.

Good. Smart. Not that that's a surprise.

"So, what do you look for in a speeder - I never did catch your name. I'm Lord Pradnakt, by the way. Dusk, in Basic. And this is Daisy."

"Daira." She tries not show her reaction to the fact that she's been talking to Sith Lord, but the Force flares up around her in response to her instinctive flinch. 

"That's a good instinct," she reassures. "But I'm still not going to hurt you."

She turns away and busies herself with Daisy's leg.

"I haven't gotten this far believing people when they tell me that," she says after a brief pause. "Give me some time to get used to the idea." 

"Yeah, fair. So what do you want in a speeder?"

"I haven't had any reason to think about it much. Is there any reason I shouldn't get the cheapest that doesn't look likely to fall apart within a year?"

"I'm paying, and you can wring more out of me than that?"

That startles a quiet laugh out of Daira. "A fast one, then. I used to race them as kid."

"- if it's no trouble," she adds after a moment.

"It's not. We'll take care of that and the shopping while you pack, then."

Daira finishes Daisy's leg, sets her upright with a last look at the flowers covering her, and disappears upstairs to the room she rents above the shop to gather her things and write a note informing her employer that his best mechanic was leaving, yes without notice, no he wouldn't need to pay her for the last week-and-a-half since her last paycheck.

And Pradnakt and Daisy go to take care of their errands. They're back in a few hours - just at dusk - with two speeders, a bronze two-person one hauling a small trailer and a slightly smaller bright blue one with black trim that Daisy vacates as soon as Daira appears.

She comes out with two bags and a somewhat lost expression, locking the door behind her.

Lots of complicated emotions, there. Pradnakt reaches out with the Force, stopping just short of making contact.

The effect Pradnakt's presence in the Force has on Daira hasn't lessened with exposure; she completes the contact as if she couldn't imagine doing anything else.

There's awe there, again, and admiration, but below that a messy tangle of hope and apprehension, a lifetime running from even the hint of Sith fighting with the way Pradnakt had felt when she dropped her shields. Pradnakt is neither a broken droid nor the Force, and so Daira doesn't know what to do with her, though she wants so badly to trust the soaring notes of that Force-song that it almost hurts.

And from Pradnakt, reassurance, confidence, appreciation, and just a hint of protectiveness - she's charmed, by Daira, and considers her at least temporarily her own - her business, her problem, her responsibility.

"We're not in a hurry, beyond needing to get back. If you need a few days to figure things out, you'll have them."

Daira understands possessiveness as motive far better than almost anything else Pradnakt could have shown her, and the protection of a Sith Lord was no small thing.

"No, I - I'll be okay. Just -" She waves a hand in the air, gesturing at the confusion she'd shown Prandakt. "It'll sort itself out eventually."

"All right. There's no pressure, anyway. C'mon, Love," she calls to Daisy, shifting so that the droid can join her on the speeder.

Daira stows her bags, and then takes a few minutes to familiarize herself with the speeder's controls.

"Is it far?" she asks.

"Yeah, three days at a reasonable pace. I have provisions and stuff."

"Well. I'm ready, I guess."

"All right."

They head west, toward the fading light of the sun. Pradnakt leaves the connection up, but slightly muted; it doesn't seem to take a significant portion of her attention.

"Let me know when you need to stop," she calls, when they're out of the city.

"Will do."

Daira hasn't piloted a speeder in a while, but it comes back quickly, and after that most of her thoughts are taken up watching the connection, the changing landscape, and the way the Force moves through all of it together. 

She calls a halt when it's almost entirely dark, sending a wordless pulse of intent in lieu of yelling over the noise of the speeders.

Pradnakt sends an acknowledgement, and points to a rock formation a mile or so ahead. When they get there, she pulls off into it, stopping when she comes to a spot that's shielded from the road.

She turns the cooking supplies over to Daisy, and takes one of the bedrolls to set up.

Daira... isn't sure where she fits into this routine. She picks up the second bedroll and then stands awkwardly in Pradnakt's line of sight, hoping the question will be obvious.

She notices promptly. "There's room for two here, or you can set up over there if you want a little more space, it looks comfortable enough. I can help with the tarp when I'm done here, if you're not familiar."

On the whole, she prefers not to sleep within saber distance of a Sith Lord she's just met, for all that she knows a couple meter's extra distance wouldn't help her if the question of saber-distances came up at all. It's not that she thinks Pradnakt would do anything, exactly, but the habits of half a lifetime are hard to unlearn.

She sets up the tarp with quick efficiency and unrolls the bedroll over it.

Pradnakt's done, by then, and has moved on to telekinetically rearranging the rocks by the camp stove into a better seating area; two together, one a little ways off.

Daira moves towards the fire and - whatever she was going to do is cut off, suddenly, in favor of staring at Pradnakt's manipulation of the Force. Again. 

(She knows she's acting strange, but she can't help it, she's avoided even the incidental contact most residents of the Empire might have with Force users and the way the Force moves around Prandakt is nearly the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.)

Pradnakt doesn't seem to mind that she's acting oddly.

She gets the stones arranged how she wants them, sits, and calls a trio of little rocks to her hand, to fiddle with.

" - can you teach me?"

"Sure, come sit."

Daira hesitates visibly between the two remaining seats, sits in the further one, and then looks questioningly at Pradnakt.

"So," she says, levitating one of the pebbles over her open palm as a casual demonstration, "the first thing you need to do is to find your connection in the force to what you want to move. Meditating helps, and I'd usually start with that, but you're obviously very good at noticing them, and I think you'll be able to manage without it - your humming is similar, but in this case instead of letting the Force move you, you want it to move the object."

Connections, connections... Daira closes her eyes and sinks deeper and deeper into the Force around her, trying to find the notes in the song that mean this pebble, the one in front of her, and not anything else. Normally she'd just be listening for the melodies that make up the shape of the Force or the sharp discordant notes that meant danger, but now she grabs a single note and follows it, trying to shut out the way everything else sings around her.

When she opens her eyes, she can feel the threads connecting her to every single rock around them.

"Like that, yes. Your focus is a little wide, though, it looks like."

This rock, this one, right here, just one, this in front of me, this note, ignore everything else, thisonethisonethisone -

"It's - loud. Hard not to listen to everything, when I'm paying attention."

"Ah. Meditation will help with that, yeah. For now -" she gives the rock a nudge with the force, enough to pull Daira's attention to it, and then twists the Force around it, gently - it starts unraveling almost immediately, but it's enough to differentiate this rock from the rest.

A note that doesn't quite fit - Daira grabs at that thread and pulls.

The pebble shoots obediently towards her, hitting her solidly on the forehead.

"Ow!"

Pradnakt can't quite help chuckling, just for a moment. "Are you all right?"

"I got it!" grins Daira. "- oh, yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. So, you'll want to lift, not yank - it helps to mirror the movement with your hand, to start, to give yourself an example to work with." She demonstrates, lifting her hand, with the still-floating pebble staying a consistent few inches above it, and then she Force-wraps another pebble for Daira to try.

Daira picks up the pebble and tries to imagine it held up by the Force, conducting a high note up with a sweep of her hand - 

She watches the floating pebble for second, confirming its stability, and then bounces with joy. The Force listens! to her! In her excitement, she loses her concentration and the pebble drops back into her open palm, but that doesn't diminish her happiness in the slightest.

More grin. "You're quick at this."

"It feels..." she searches for a word. "Right."

"Yeah. It's - some people never notice that they're sensitive, and they seem to do okay? But I can't imagine it. The Force is important."

"Saved my life more than once, once I learned to listen to it. When I first started hearing it was just everywhere, in everything, this never-ending symphony. Still is, but I can handle it better, I guess. I wouldn't trade it for - most anything." She looks down, lost in thought. 

"Yeah, it'll do that." She pauses for a moment, watching. "It doesn't steer us wrong, even if it's hard to tell sometimes."

"I hope so." She shakes her head slightly and holds out the pebble again. "Should I try again?"

"If you want. We've got a little bit before dinner, I think." She fixes the pebble again.

And Daira practices with the pebble, and by the time the food's ready can manage nearly a minute floating it steadily a couple inches above her hand.

Pradnakt continues to be quietly delighted by her progress.

Dinner is a stew of beef and potatoes and carrots, nicely seasoned, with a mug of tea - an imported delicacy, here - for each of them; Daisy takes the rock by Pradnakt for her seat when she's passed everything out.

Daira nods gratefully to Daisy and wraps her hands around the mug to warm them. She watches Daisy's movements with an ingrained wariness, unable to track her Force-signature as she usually does.

Pradnakt eats in silence - she signs briefly to the droid after tasting her meal, and otherwise seems content to focus on her meal, and whatever it is she's doing with the Force. She never quite stops using the Force; it's still not clear what the effects around her do, but there are several of them, and it's clear that she has plenty of practice at them.

(That one might be a warming effect; it wasn't there when they first met, probably - it's a little hard to tell, with so many things going on - but it's been getting steadily more prominent as the evening's chill sets in.)

Pradnakt's presence in the Force is still the most interesting thing in the vicinity; Daira keeps a metaphorical eye on the way the Force moves around her, and lifts her head to look curiously at her when she notices something new.

She identifies them, usually, when Daira questions - farsight, and something to enhance her hearing (far more intricate than the farsight), and something to help her memory, and, yes, that's a warming effect, and danger sense, and, eventually, one that she identifies as a mental effect, something to help her get to sleep: "It's gentler, if I start it early. Or I could do without - we can use the Force instead of any of our physical needs, temporarily - but I don't like to do that lightly."

It's getting cold enough that she asks if the warming effect can be extended to her, after sitting firmly on her first impulse to demand to learn all of them immediately. She settles for trying to pick out the way each feels in the Force, humming softly as she examines them one by one. 

It can be, and Pradnakt does, settling it over the entire campsite as a ranged effect, which incidentally makes it much easier to 'see'.

She looks at the way it interacts with her own Force signature, and then asks, "What does it feel like, when you do that?"

"Like using the Force," she shrugs. "A lot of more advanced works don't feel like anything in particular. This one is based in my body's own temperature regulation; I couldn't boil water with it, but it self-regulates, I don't have to worry about overheating."

"How does that work? Can you boil water? Why don't you do that instead of carrying a camp stove, is it particularly hard? Do you -" she cuts herself off and looks somewhat awkwardly down at her feet.

"It's fine. I could; it's not hard, exactly, but it'd take up my attention. Finding fuel would be more efficient."

Daira begins another question, thinks better of it, and busies herself with her stew instead.

Nom, chew, swallow. "I don't mind you asking me things."

    "She really doesn't," Daisy adds.

"That's - another thing I'm not used to. I ask too many questions." 

And below that, do not annoy the Sith that's going to teach you, you don't know what might set her off, words don't mean much.

"I'm not sure there is such a thing as too many questions," she shrugs. "But, in your own time."

Daira smiles at that, a little, but doesn't say anything further.

"You're not wrong to be nervous. I'm practically a pacifist, as Sith go, but I'm still dangerous, and you only have my word that I'm not going to hurt you. It's fine."

That is significantly more encouraging, if only because it's good to have confirmation that Pradnakt doesn't expect her to act as if she's harmless.

Daira nods, not feeling up to any more substantive response.

That's fine. Dinner continues, and when Pradnakt is done she sends Daisy to get a package of berry tarts out of the speeder and passes one to Daira.

Daira nods her thanks and eats it slowly, thoughts elsewhere.

When Pradnakt's done eating, she moves off a ways to meditate - the Force swirls even more strongly through her emotions as she does.

If Daira's getting any better at not staring at the way the Force moves around Pradnakt whenever she does something new, it's not obvious. Everything it does near her is interesting and beautiful and Daira is allowed to watch.

She notices her watching - it's obvious, with the Force reacting to her attention and emotions so much - but only lets it distract her for a moment.

Attention back to her task, she begins going through a variety of emotions - rage, fear, anguish, hope, joy, love, holding them for a few minutes, the Force reacting incredibly strongly to each. (When she comes to the last, her connection to the droid sings clearly in the Force for a moment, before she suppresses it.) That done, she starts on what appears to be maintenance of her maintained Force effects, going over each one and making subtle adjustments here and there.

At the rage Daira flinches, not quite certain exactly what it was but entirely sure she didn't want it directed at her. When the Force around her indicates no danger she continues listening, sinking deeper and deeper into something distantly resembling a meditative trance of her own.

After about forty minutes of meditating, Pradnakt stretches and opens her eyes again, and waits for Daira to resurface.

It takes a while, but eventually Daira notices Pradnakt watching her. "I should sleep," she says, when she remembers how to form her thoughts in words again.

"Yeah, me too. See you in the morning."

Daira curls up in her bedroll and is asleep within minutes, the soft hum of all's well in her ears.

And Pradnakt's not far behind, with Daisy sitting crosslegged by her bedroll.

Daira spends several moments after she wakes up blinking in confusion at the rising sun. She notices Pradnakt still asleep, shakes her head to clear it, and then starts looking uncertainly for something to make breakfast.

"Breakfast, Ma'am?"

"- you don't have to call me Ma'am."

"All right." She stands and goes to where the food is stored in the trailer.

And Pradnakt stretches and sits up. She signs something at Daira, catches herself mid-sign, shakes her head, and speaks, instead: "Good morning."

"What kind of sign language was that?"

"Sith battle sign. I speak an extended version, but that's in the regular language - 'good'," she repeats the sign, "'morning'."

Good morning, she signs back clumsily.

"I know basic ship-signs, but those aren't good for much but simple status reports. Are they any similar, do you know?"

"I'd assume not. I haven't spent much time on civvie ships."

Fire in engine room 6, she signs, laughing. All report stations. Out loud, she adds, "Only seen that first set used once, but it was memorable. Look familiar at all?"

"Nope. I could guess, but that's about it."

Nod.

"Do you prefer to sign? I can learn, I'm quick at that."

"Either way is fine. I'm not sure how long you'll want to stay around, might not be worth it."

"I don't -" she pauses, searching for words, "like there being things around me I don't understand."

"All right." She signs along as she speaks. "I might not be the best teacher, but I don't mind showing you."

"That's fine, I'm good at learning this sort of thing."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised." (She continues signing.) "Anyway, at least I'm a tinker by trade, these days, that shouldn't be too distracting for you."

"Distracting?"

"Yeah. From whatever. I get the impression that if I, say, let you loose on my poetry collection, I might basically not see you for a week. And I wouldn't mind, but that's not what you're coming along for, really."

"I've read poetry before. If you have any books about the Force, though..."

"A few. The poetry'd be more help, though, honestly."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm. It's hard to describe the Force in text. And - your instincts with it are pretty good, mostly, but you need to lead it, not the other way around, for most things. And for that, you need to know yourself, and poetry helps."

Daira looks at Pradnakt somewhat skeptically. "The Force is - the Force. I can chose not to listen to it but I don't tell it what to do, that's - the Force is more than what I want."

"Mm," she hums thoughtfully. "I suppose if you're staying away from dark side techniques, that won't lead you right off a cliff."

"Dark side techniques? And why would there be a cliff in the first place?"

"There's different ways to use the Force. All of them are affected by your emotions, but they're not all affected the same way, and some of them affect your emotions right back. You know how Sith have a reputation for being a little crazy - too easy to upset, too fast to react when they are? That's why. The Force pushes us into it."

"The Force makes Sith murder people 'cause a cargo ship was fifteen minutes late?" Daira makes a face, and then remembers who she's talking with. "I mean," she adds quickly, "that's what some people said, spacers' story, you know -"

"Oh, that kind of thing definitely happens. And, yeah - the Force isn't the only factor there, but it's a pretty big one. But you can just not use it that way, if you're not going to be a Sith."

"What other ways are there?"

(So Pradnakt said her way of using the Force made people volatile, Daira already knew that Sith were violent, this didn't change anything. She just had to avoid setting her off.)

"There's also light-side techniques, apparently; Jedi can do some things that Sith can't, just like Sith can do some things Jedi can't. I don't know much about the light side, though. And then some things are just neutral; telekinesis is neutral."

"'Light side'? Does that have different connotations than I think it does or was the inventer of those terms as obviously a Jedi as it sounds? What do Jedi do that Sith can't? And the other way around, actually? Does the light side do anything to your emotions?"

"Jedi can heal, that's the most famous light-side effect. Lightning is the famous dark side one, but there's a few other attacks, some kinds of mental manipulation, some kinds of energy manipulation - the Force is pretty versatile, people invent new techniques all the time, nobody knows all of them."

Healing sounds a lot more useful than lightning, Daira doesn't say.

"Can you teach me how to use the light side? or will I only be able to use neutral techniques if I don't want to mess with my emotions?"

"Can't teach you what I don't know myself," she shrugs.

Daisy comes over with a bowl in each hand; Pradnakt takes the first one, thanks her, and digs in. She brings the second bowl over to Daira: it's oatmeal, with dried berries and cinnamon.

Daira takes the bowl with a nod and eats quickly, mostly ignoring Pradnakt.

Pradnakt doesn't rush, and Daisy is busy packing the speeder back up when Daira finishes.

She gets up and rolls up her bedroll, and then hovers awkwardly near Daisy, uncertain what to do with it.

Daisy takes it from her, with a polite "thank you", as soon as her hands are free.

Daira puts away the few things she removed from her own bags, and then looks over the campsite carefully to check if she's forgotten anything.

Pradnakt finishes eating just as Daisy is finishing up the dishes; she washes and packs her bowl and spoon and then goes to help with her bedroll.

"Ready to get going?"

Daira checks her speeder quickly - she doesn't trust equipment she hasn't used for a while - and then nods.

And off they go.

It's not too long before it starts to get hot, but Pradnakt sets up a cooling effect before it gets particularly uncomfortable.

Daira pilots her speeder, and enjoys the way the wind feels rushing past her, and tries not to think too much of the last time she'd raced speeders with her sister.

And at noon, Pradnakt signals for them to stop in the shade of a cliff.

Pradnakt's cooling effect doesn't do much for sun-glare, Daira's grateful to get out of direct sunlight for a while.

Daisy begins making lunch, and Pradnakt again sets up a place for them to sit.

Daira's not in a talkative mood; she sits down and fidgets with the ends of her hair as she thinks.

This doesn't seem to bother Pradnakt; after a few minutes she meditates and begins fiddling with one of her Force effects.

The changes in the Force don't draw Daira out this time. She winds her hair around her fingers and gnaws on her lip and looks back at the skyline where the city would be, trying to reconcile left my job with a Sith Lord and hiding from Sith half my life.

"You can go back, if you want," Pradnakt says eventually. "I won't stop you. You can keep the speeder."

"Are you reading my mind?"

"Nope. I can see your emotions, but it's mostly just obvious that you were thinking something like that."

"Okay. No, I don't want to go back. This is - weird. It's not bad. Wasn't attached to there particularly, would've left in under a year anyway."

"All right. I won't be upset if you change your mind, either."

"If I thought I couldn't leave I'd have ran."

Nod. "All right."

Daira twists her hair around her fingers sharply enough to cut off circulation, and then unwinds it. Twist, unwind, twist, unwind, twist - uncomfortable look at Pradnakt to see if she minds - unwind, twist, unwind.

"Is there anything you want to know?"

"About what?"

"About whatever it is that has you worried."

"Why is the Force pulling me towards you," Daira blurts out, "why are you here, why is a Sith Lord living as a tinker in the middle of nowhere, why are you not swooping around like a mad bat somewhere that's less, less -" she gestures wildly at the empty desert around them "this, why am I not dead yet for calling Sith mad bats? 

Pradnakt laughs. "Well, because I agree with you, on that last one. Mad bats, well, I was one, and I didn't like it, and I've spent the last eight years figuring out how to not do that; that answers most of your question. We are still people."

"How did you stop?"

"Practice. Lots of poetry. Meditating. Having Daisy helped."

Nod.

"I'm not going to be - entirely calm around you. For a while. But you don't need to worry about it. If I want to leave, I'll tell you."

Nod. "I can still see it, but that's my problem. But if there is anything that'd help you to know - I'm not going to be offended at questions, at least about that."

"It isn't the sort of worry that words will fix." Shrug. "Time will help."

"Mmhmm."

Daira adds "yelling at the Sith helped" to her mental list of phrases she never expected to think, and then looks over where Daisy's preparing lunch.

She's still working on it, though it is starting to smell tasty.

"Ready soon, Dais'?" Pradnakt calls.

    "I think so. The beans weren't as fresh as I thought."

"All right. We can break out the rat bars if it doesn't come together soon, I know you want to get home."

   "Mmhmm. I think it'll only be a few minutes, though."

The way Pradnakt and Daisy interact is - nice. Weird, but nice. Daira's never seen a droid act like Daisy before, and watches them as subtly as she can manage.

Done for the moment, Pradnakt scoops up a trio of pebbles and telekinetically juggles them. It's obviously an advanced technique, being able to handle three at once.

Daira wants to learn that! Daira wants to learn everything, so perhaps that doesn't come as a surprise. "Are you doing what you'd do with one except with three? How much harder is it? Are you planning their trajectories out directly or just kind of giving them a push?"

She calls them back to her hand before answering. "Quite a bit harder. It's a bit like rubbing your stomach and patting your head at the same time."

Nod.

"Can you mark a pebble for me? I want to see if I can move one like that."

"Sure." Pebble.

Daira can make it fly in the right direction at a rate only slightly better than chance, but she's stubborn and doesn't particularly mind dodging stray pebbles if it means getting to play with the Force.

She doesn't need to dodge much: Pradnakt has good enough reflexes to catch errant pebbles with the Force, even without setting up a shield (which might interfere with Daira's practice), and isn't shy about showing them off.

Then Daira can try sending her pebble to a particular spot in the air or see what will happen if she flings it somewhere and then tries to stop it or try moving it in circles without getting bruises whenever she isn't quick enough! There is some quiet eeeeeeeeeeeing and frustrated muttering and happy humming; she shows no signs of being inclined to stop until someone interrupts.

It's very cute.

Daisy interrupts with lunch before she can do too much, though - another stew, expertly spiced but a bit overcooked except for the beans.

Daira spends a couple seconds contemplating the possibly of multitasking before reluctantly giving it up as a bad idea and dropping the pebble in favor of the food.

"Not bad, Love, considering."

    "You'd say that no matter how bad it was." The droid is definitely needling her.

"No, really. Daira, what do you think?"

"Better than what I usually have, but that's not saying much, I'm a terrible cook."

"Daisy's a great one. And she grows most of the ingredients, too, at home."

"I spent six months on a freighter," Daira shrugs, "if it's not the slop they were feeding us there I'm happy."

"Well, hopefully the garden won't be too far gone when we get back, you'll be in for a treat. And this really is fine, Love," she reiterates.

    "All right," Daisy grins, and Pradnakt turns her attention to her meal.

Daira doesn't really know what to make of their relationship, but it's hardly any of her business. She eats quickly, not noticing whatever problems with the stew Daisy had been worried about.

And soon enough they get back on the road.

The next two days are much the same; driving, meals, camping out. Daisy continues to be reserved, in the way droids often are, with Daira, but more open with Pradnakt, who treats her just as oddly as she has been, and clearly cares about her quite a bit. Pradnakt continues to meditate in the evenings - she always starts with the same round of intense emotions - and to provide marked pebbles and interesting telekinesis tricks whenever they have nothing else to do.

Mid-afternoon of the fourth day, she turns off the main road, almost U-turning onto a barely visible trail.

Daira is quiet for the rest of the trip, except when asking questions about the aforementioned telekinesis tricks; regarding those she is a font of questions and speculation. 

When Pradnakt turns onto the trail, Daira suppresses a flash of - something. Excitement, unease? She's become somewhat comfortable with the easy routine of travel, and different has often meant dangerous for her.

Pradnakt slows, and shouts over the sound of the speeders. "Our house is this way. A few more hours."

"Got it," Daira shouts back.

About ten minutes later, they pass the first piece of art: swirls of metal incorporated into an apparently natural rockfall, glittering in the afternoon light.

Oh that's gorgeous.

There are more, one every ten or fifteen minutes for the rest of the two hours it takes to reach their destination, all variations on the rock-and-metal theme, all abstract.

When they get there, the house itself is perhaps a bit disappointing - plain white adobe, unadorned, without even windows; a scraggly tree shading the well by the front door is the closest it comes to having any decoration. The yard in front, though, hosts a tall, twisting silver sculpture, almost obelisk-shaped, that rather distracts from the building's plainness.

"Your sculptures remind me of - how the Force feels," is the first thing Daira says when they can finally talk without shouting.

"Thank you," Pradnakt grins, but she's obviously pretty distracted. "You'll have to excuse us for a bit, we need to take care of the farm first thing. You can go in and get a glass of water if you'd like, the pitcher is on the table."

"Where should I -" Daira gestures at her speeder.

"Leave it there for now, if you put it in the garage now it'll block the trailers in. Won't be long." (Daisy has already left, heading around the side of the house.)

Daira nods, grabs her bags off the speeder, and heads inside, hesitating briefly on the threshold. She finds the water and, after a brief search, a glass, and drinks quickly. Then looks around the room she's found herself curiously, trying to see what she can find out about the place where she's going to stay.

It's a workroom, and obviously the main room of the house; it takes up easily half the size of it. It's dominated by a huge, square wooden table, liberally scattered with tools and stained and scarred in the way worktables often are, surrounded by benches in similar condition. A door, a cabinet - wooden, with a swirl of inset metal studs on the doors - and a pair of large, freestanding metalworking tools sit along the back wall; the side wall farthest from the door, hosts bins of scrap and parts, some unsorted, some sorted by type or color. The nearer side wall, between the front door and the door on the back wall, is mostly taken up by a cozy galley kitchen, where one person could work comfortably but two would be quite cramped, and the front wall is empty except for a set of pegs next to the door, currently holding a hooded black cloak with gold embroidery at the hem and around the hood opening, and several pieces of colorful, decoratively draped fabric. The other walls have fabric decorations, too, wherever there's room that's not otherwise occupied.

[house layout, entrance at bottom]

Daira tilts her head curiously at the decorations, and then goes to examine the tools left out in the open. She recognizes a few, but most are new to her. She picks one up to look at it more closely, and then drops it guiltily and crosses her arms over her chest to ward off the temptation to touch anything else - she's familiar with the protectiveness craftspeople often feel about their workspaces.

Touching Pradnakt's tools fails to summon her.

Daira pokes around some more and looks at the other doors in the room but doesn't open them, uncertain of exactly where she's welcome. Eventually she drops her bags on a bench and leans against the table next to them, trying not to disturb anything.

Whatever they're doing, it's taking a while.

Eventually Daira sticks her head out the door and looks around, not sure what else she's supposed to do.

Neither of them is in evidence at the front of the house, and the speeders are still sitting by the garage.

(If Daira's paying sufficient attention with the Force, she may notice that there's some kind of large but low-power telekinesis effect happening behind the house.)

She reaches out half-consciously with the Force as she searches, feels something in the direction of the house, and follows the thread around the house to the back.

There's a water tap at the back of the house, and Pradnakt is leaning against the wall by it, directing the water up and over the plants in the garden, in a simulation of rain. Daisy is examining one of the plants; the water is falling all around her, but not on her.

Pradnakt looks up when Daira comes around the corner. "Hey. Sorry about that, I should have figured that this would take a while."

"It's not like I'm in a hurry for anything," says Daira. "- are you just lifting the water like you did with the pebble?"

"Mmhmm. I bet you could get it, water's pretty distinctive around here."

The most obvious presence in the Force is Pradnakt and her telekinesis, and if she shuts that out the water does stand out, but she can't tell the difference between the water in the tap and the water outside of it. What if she allows Pradnkat's Force effect to point her at what it's affecting - there! She lifts the water over the plants and releases it, then grins.

She can't quite get the smooth rain Pradnakt gets, but with her helping the processes goes by quicker.

"Very good."

Daisy moves through the rows of plants, checking most of them and examining the soil every few minutes; eventually she says that it's got enough water for now. "But it could use another soak in the morning and afternoon tomorrow while I'm out, could you please?"

"Of course, Love."

"Where are you going?"

"In to town - some of these plants aren't going to make it, they need to be replaced."

Daira nods, thinking. She hadn't quite realized it was just Pradnakt and Daisy here, without even any other droids to take care of the gardens while they were away. It didn't change anything, really, just another way in which they were unusual.

"Are there any fruits or vegetables you like? I could add some new kinds while I'm replanting."

"I can eat anything, it's okay."

"All right." She examines another plant.

"How about we go figure out where you'll be sleeping? I don't have a guest room, but I can set the cot up in the workroom, or I have a tent if you want a little more privacy than that.

"The workroom is the one at the front? A cot there is fine."

"Yup." She heads for the front of the house. "There's not much to the place - that, my room, Daisy's, some storage. We weren't expecting visitors when we built it."

"Do you prefer to be alone, should I try stay out of your way? I don't mind." As long as she gets Force lessons, that is. Those are important; people, not so much.

"Mm... that might be a little counterproductive, I think. I can always go up on the roof if I need space."

Nod. "Anywhere else I shouldn't go or things I shouldn't mess with?"

"Roof's my private space, Daisy's room is hers - shower's through the bedroom; I don't mind you coming through, but please knock first. The garden and livestock are Daisy's; she won't mind if you pick the occasional snack, but check with her before you do anything more than that - it's going to be fragile for the next while, I'm sure. In here, pretty much standard shared workspace rules - check with me before you use the last of anything, let me know if anything happens to any of the tools, the usual. If you need any supplies, let me or Daisy know; it's a couple months' turnaround time if we have to order anything in from the city, but they have a decent selection in town, Daisy goes in the first weekend of every month and she can pick things up for you. And - Daisy'll know if it's worth interrupting me while I'm meditating, and I shouldn't be interrupted at all while I'm practicing with my 'saber, in fact you shouldn't get close to me then. Okay?"

"Makes sense," Daira says, looking visibly relieved to have clear guidelines to follow.

Nod. "How about you, anything we should know?"

"Um. Sometimes I get kind of snappish for a few days, I try to avoid people then. I don't like to talk a lot? I'm not good at - seeming friendly?"

"Fair enough. If you need space, it's always fine to go for a walk - it'd take you a few days to walk far enough that I wouldn't be able to find you; if you get lost, just sit tight and I'll notice eventually. Bring water, though - the Force will protect you some, but better safe than sorry. I'll leave a canteen by the door for you."

"Thank you," says Daira with a small smile.

"You're welcome."

"So, I'll get started on the cot, then, let's see..."

The bins of parts get shuffled closer together, to make room for one of the freestanding tools on that wall. Then Pradnakt pulls the table out a bit, and levitates the other one out - "I'll just put this in storage, I don't use it that much anyway" - and heads into the back room, machine floating behind her.

Daira will just... grab her bags and stand in the corner, unless Pradnakt points her at something to do.

A few minutes and a couple of muffled thumps later, she's back, with a folded camping cot on wheels and an armful of bedding. She dumps the blanket and pillow on the bench, rolls the cot into place, and tries to extend it, but there's not quite enough room; she folds it back up again to scoot the other machine out of the way as well, and this time it unfolds just fine. "All right, back in a minute," and she brings the second machine to the back as well.

"I can make the bed, unless you have some Force trick that'll do it in a second." (Daira kind of wants there to be a Force trick. Force tricks are interesting.)

"It's easier with telekinesis, but not by that much," she chuckles.

No Force trick, okay. Daira drops her bags by the foot of the cot and drags over the bedding, then adds to Pradnakt over her shoulder, "Are there any shelves I can use for my things? If not it's fine, I don't have a lot."

"Not offhand, but I can make some."

Nod, smile.

"Tomorrow, I think. Oh, and - I can keep this up to give you time to adjust, but I'm going to want to go back to my natural sleep schedule, sunrise to noon."

"I don't mind."

She nods. "I figured, if you've been on ship's time. Anyway, I'll be up late tonight, but not that late."

Daira finishes the cot, and flops dramatically onto the covers. "A real bed!"

Pradnakt chuckles. "Yup."

"Do you mind if I go see the rest of the house?"

"Sure, no problem." She waits for her to get up before starting the tour. "Bathroom's in there," she waves at the as-yet-unopened door next to the kitchen, "and this is my room."

The room is full of beautiful clutter: the space is dominated by a huge bed, as wide as it is long, with a soft dark grey comforter embroidered with black and blue and silver swirls, and with a mountain of pillows in subdued dark colors piled on the back half. The bookcases next to it are full of boxes - mostly decorated - and books and sculptures and curios, and the walls and ceiling are hung with draped fabric, more artwork - mostly metal sculptures, in a similar style to the art Daira has already seen here - and framed poetry rendered in precise calligraphy. The wall opposite the bed has two doors, both closed, and the wall opposite the door they came through has a third.

She reaches out to touch the sculptures, then pauses and glances at Pradnakt. "Can I...?"

"Sure."

Daira runs her hands over the sculpture, feeling the shape of it with closed eyes. If Pradnakt pays attention, there's a little bit of the Force in how she watches it, reaching out for the metal.

Cute.

She sits on the bed to wait for her to be done.

She finally puts it down, running her thumb over the sharpest edge once as a quick farewell. "You made these?"

"Mmhmm. I've always been an artist."

Pradnakt doesn't make sense - "Are they meant to be anything?"

"Not - in the way people usually mean, when they ask that."

"In what way, then?"

"Like poetry. Like this-

From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward   
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into   
the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom."

[source]

"That doesn't mean, it... feels. I see what you meant about poetry teaching me about the Force."

"Yeah. There's some good stuff, there. Want another?"

Nod.

"I am a feather on the bright sky
I am the blue horse that runs in the plain
I am the fish that rolls, shining, in the water
I am the shadow that follows a child
I am the evening light, the lustre of meadows
I am an eagle playing with the wind
I am a cluster of bright beads
I am the farthest star
I am the cold of dawn
I am the roaring of the rain
I am the glitter on the crust of the snow
I am the long track of the moon in a lake
I am a flame of four colors
I am a deer standing away in the dusk
I am a field of sumac and the pomme blanche
I am an angle of geese in the winter sky
I am the hunger of a young wolf
I am the whole dream of these things

You see, I am alive, I am alive
I stand in good relation to the earth
I stand in good relation to the gods
I stand in good relation to all that is beautiful
You see, I am alive, I am alive"

[source]

Ooooooooooh.

"We don't need it for the same reason, but I think we need some of the same things, there. Convenient that I've already gone looking for it."

"It's -" like the Force at night, sinking deeper and deeper into it until all that's left is you and the rushing wild song "beautiful," Daira says, because she can't find the words.

"Yeah."

"You said you had books?"

"Mmhmm." She scoots further onto the bed and retrieves a datapad from a box, then grabs a second box from the shelf above it. "I have more, and some paper books too, but this is a good place to start." She hands them over.

Poetry books! She picks a book at random, skims the table of contents, and then tears herself away when she remembers "- you were showing me the house?"

"Yeah, this is most of it though. Storage through there, that one's Daisy's, and that's the shower." She points at the relevant doors.

Daira nods and is halfway to the door before she remembers to ask if Pradnakt minds her vanishing in the books for an hour. Or two. Maybe three.

She chuckles. "Go right ahead."

And Daira curls up the corner of her cot and reads until someone interrupts her, humming the rhythm of the poems she particularly likes.

Pradnakt putters about briefly, and then gets to work on the promised shelves; it's not quiet, but it's not hard to ignore, and neither is the sound of Daisy leaving on the speeder.

Eventually she sets her work aside, and starts a pot of potato soup; she waits for Daira to be between poems before letting her know that it's ready.

Oh, food exists. Right. She gets up reluctantly and sits opposite Pradnakt.

"So," she asks, conversationally, "learn anything interesting?"

"It is like what we imagine knowledge to be:

dark, salt, clear, moving, utterly free,

drawn from the cold hard mouth

of the world, derived from the rocky breasts

forever, flowing and drawn, and since

our knowledge is historical, flowing, and flown."

[source]

"Mmm, yes.

Not that the pines were darker there,   
nor mid-May dogwood brighter there,   
nor swifts more swift in summer air;
    it was my own country,

having its thunderclap of spring,   
its long midsummer ripening,   
its corn hoar-stiff at harvesting,
    almost like any country,

yet being mine; its face, its speech,   
its hills bent low within my reach,   
its river birch and upland beech
    were mine, of my own country.

Now the dark waters at the bow
fold back, like earth against the plow;   
foam brightens like the dogwood now
    at home, in my own country."

[source]

And now Daira looks like she's only not crying because Pradnakt's watching.

"Mmm. Gave something up you shouldn't've, hm? - You don't have to tell me about it. But you can, if you want."

"I didn't give it up. I had to, it wasn't safe, she was so bright."

"Ah."

"We could go find her. It's safe enough here."

"Mari needs - people and, and," Daira draws a deep breath, "her own country." 

"- yeah. Well, we can still check."

"If it's safe I - yes."

"Yeah. I'll need a couple days to pack, and maybe one or two to help close down the garden if Daisy wants to come - she probably will, if it's more than a few days' trip. Where is it?"

"Korulen, I can pull up the maps. It's not close, I didn't want - thank you."

"Yeah."

She looks back up. "You did good, it sounds like. We'll figure something out."

"I don't - I didn't - I -" Daira stands abruptly and flees the room.

Yeah, fair.

She doesn't follow, but she does watch the girl; she'll go find her if it seems like she's needed.

She makes it halfway around the house before slumping against the wall and screwing her eyes shut against the tears.

Mari Mari Mari sister twin beautiful golden Mari - I don't know what doing right means, it was just Mari, Mari needed to be safe - I can see her, I can - safesafesafesafe for me - does she even care, maybe she barely remembers, we were twelve - is the house still - we were going to have a brother - is it still even the same - I'll come with a Sith, that's not - she'd do that for me, she just meet me, she doesn't - why - how - maybe I'm dreaming - no don't be stupid - Mari Mari Mari - and then Daira's thoughts are full of the golden light that was Mari's presence in the Force and she's crying in earnest, shaking with silent wrenching sobs.

She leaves her be, for a bit; she takes the opportunity to call Daisy on the radio and let her know about the change of plans.

The sun begins to set.

She's cried herself out by then, and is deep in her Force trance, drawing its presence around herself like a blanket. She doesn't appear to notice the sunset at all.

"Hey."

Daira lifts her head to look at her but doesn't answer.

She offers a hand up. "Come watch the sunset with me?"

She looks at Pradnakt's hand for a moment in total incomprehension, then clasps it and stands in a burst of motion.

She leads the way to the far side of the house, where there's a ladder bolted to the wall; there's a cushion propped up by the base of it. "Go ahead. The best view is from up there."

She clambers up the ladder and sits facing the sun, knees tucked to her chest.

Pradnakt follows with the extra cushion and sets it beside the one that was already waiting on the platform, to sit on.

The sunset is gorgeous, a blaze of pink and orange and gold, highlighted by a few clouds and a collection of sparkles, out in the desert, reflecting its light toward them from a dozen different places.

Half of Daira sees the sunset, and half of her is under another sun, racing speeders with Mari to get home before dark.

After a few moments, Pradnakt taps Daira's knee, offers her hand to hold.

Daira watches the sunset almost a minute, not reacting, and then takes her hand, humming softly in thanks.

She watches the rest of it in silence, and then lapses into meditation, this time a quiet, thoughtful sort.

Daira stays almost perfectly still, looking up at the stars when the sun's set.

She meditates for a while - about her usual amount - and then shifts to lie down, head pillowed on the cushion, to watch the stars as well.

The stars have always meant Mari, somewhere - and she's crying again, wiping her eyes angrily with the back of her hand.

She lets her. It doesn't seem right to interrupt.

"...m'okay," she says after a while. "More okay than I've been in years. Just - a lot."

"Yeah, I can tell. It's all right, I don't mind.

Just north of mist,
along the border,
   half a color
from the water,

under the kiss
of shadow’s daughter,
   (two breaths backward,
one word upward),

past the rumpled
terra cotta,
   down the salve
of templed sorrow,

up the scales
of Bach, and Buddha,
   down the moon
of broken solder,

through the eyes
of someone’s father,
   in the grass
beside the water;

one part liar,
one part seer,
   one part lyric,
one part scholar,

this is the walk
we come to wander,
   one part illness,
one part healer."

[source]

Oh. That - okay.

"Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s- it's- I don't remember how it goes from here." 

(Her memory isn't perfect, but she read that poem over and over. She does. Poetry is easier than finding her own words, but not easy.)

She thinks for a moment, and then -

"—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like - write it - like disaster.

Yeah."

[source]

"Yeah," she echoes. 

Slowly, she leans into Pradnakt, and then freezes, waiting for her to react.

She leans back. "It really is okay. Not great, but. Okay."

Permission granted, she lets herself curl up against Pradnakt. "She's alive, isn't she? So yeah. Okay."

(Daira allowed herself to check, once a year. Alive, not taken by the Sith, not victim to a thousand of the small accidents that could befall someone, alive.)

"Yeah. And we'll find her. Even if she's not where you left her, that's quite the connection you have." She pets her hair.

She leans in Pradnakt's hand and tries to pretend she isn't crying again. 

"Can I show you? How she - felt, I mean."

She nods. "Go ahead."

Clumsily, she pushes goldgoldgold, light and notes like chimes and below them the rushing depth of a waterfall and the pounding of blood in her ears and everything bent towards that light and noise like flowers opened to the sun.

"Lovely."

"She was," sighs Daira. "- is. She glowed with it."

"Yeah."

"Only when I was there - that doesn't make sense, when I think about it. She had this Force-energy, so much of it, and when I touched her she lit up like a beacon, and it was so obvious..."

"That's - you're - twins, probably? Force connections are stronger between family; what you're describing would be rare, even for twins, but not impossible."

"Twins, yeah. I wouldn't have ran if I hadn't been putting her in danger just by being there."

"That makes things easier. I can teach you how to not."

"...oh."

"Yeah." Pet pet. "You'll still have to be careful - it takes years to learn to hold a Force effect in your sleep - but it'll be possible to stay."

"I can do years. I -" She turns to look at Pradnkat, sends hopegratitudewarmth as best she can.

She sends back fondness, and contentment, and joy.

She lets herself sink into the feeling, eyes half-closed.

Pradnakt doesn't have anywhere to be.

It's late, and even without the revelations of the last couple hours Daira's had a long day. After some time, she falls asleep.

She wakes in Pradnakt's bed, the Sith's arm draped over her shoulder.

She's disoriented for a moment, then puts together the singing presence in the Force and the room from yesterday. Everything feels soft and warm and safe; she curls up more against Pradnakt and listens to the Force-song around them.

Pradnakt wakes up too, after a few moments. "Hey."

Daira smiles at her, still half-asleep and not inclined to put in the effort to form words.

She stretches, then snuggles back up. "Mm... Daisy won't be back for a few hours, I guess breakfast is on me."

"Mhm."

Oh, that's not really a response, is it? "I mean, I can... not food. S'okay."

"Nah, I've got to get up and take care of the animals, anyway. You like eggs?"

"Eggs're good."

"All right. I'll come get you when they're ready." A brief hug, and then she goes.

Daira drifts in and out of sleep, listening to the sound of Prandnakt in the kitchen. Eventually she shakes herself fully awake and gets up to go dig in her bags for a change of clothes.

Pradnakt times it so the eggs - scrambled, with spinach - are done just as she is. "I can keep this warm for a bit if you want to go change first."

"I'll just be a second."