If perfection is stagnation, then Heaven is a swamp.

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Pools of burnt amber looked over to her as she spoke, eyes trailing over the singular statement and how it curled through her fingers. He smiled warmly, in agreement, as he arched a brow in the direction of the apiary. “It wasn’t always the case.” No sounds of children in the background, no laughs or screams or the screeching indication of a nuisance of a droid. He wondered if they were in town or if Ava was off working with the circle of healers, tending to her New Jedi Order responsibility.

You are no Jedi.

Holding out his hand for her to take, he began a slow walk through the fields and away from the homestead. “The Homestead had been abandoned for some time, condemned for resale. I think I was doing them as much of a favor as they were me…” He pointed towards the tree line. “Trees stood there, but leafless and riddled with disease. The fields were barren and the tap tree overflowed with unused water. Erosion was unmitigated from the production, as the aquaducts were all but destroyed, and the fields couldn’t retain the nutrient for proper growth.”

He looked over his shoulder, finding burning orchids hidden within perplexed expression. “We managed to reclaim the land over time. Now the work is minimal but maintenance will always be needed. The moon sits too close to the burning planet of Sullust, constantly persuading drought and drying up water reserves.”

If she had desire for it, if she could reach out and sense, she might feel the radiating presence of the Ankarres grove in their oncoming path. The affect was substantial, radiating outward into the field and further.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Some things were still so foreign.

Pale eyes took in the gesture of the offered hand, finding a disconnect for once. Where many things often felt distantly familiar, as if ghosts or vestiges of a previous life, this here did not and the notion struck her as exceptionally odd. The pause was brief but not negligible before she threaded fingers across calloused palm, first and second digits lightly curling through the third and fourth. She released a short sigh and brushed several long curls from her face, moving to follow at the man's side.

The perplexity was not drawn out by his words but by the situation she found herself in. Cera was listening ... as best as she could over the dull roar in her ears and the strange ebbing of something filtering through her mind. Where did she know this sensation from? She wanted to question it but presently the act of doing so was hampered by a silent conversation between hands she would be loath to disrupt. Patience instead as their slow steps brought them closer.

Unseen reverberations within the Force lapped against her senses, warm and smooth like golden grasses rolling in the breezes. A quietude fell upon the area as the grove's presence waxed, glowing. Cera knew it suddenly like she knew the song of the Ikkermill Starling and the faint lines of recognition found their way onto her face.

Ankarres. An entire grove. Healthy, thriving, vibrant. She'd only ever felt their essence through the product brought through the store and it was so incredibly small compared to this. Free fingertips reached out to lace through the branches as they walked a worn pathway through the trees and followed bare foot prints both of tiny child and massive wookie along the dirt. She had to stop and gaze wonderingly at the matured saplings, incapable of preventing herself from smoothing her own palm over the bark of the trunk.

It felt peaceful here and it was a sort of peace she could only ever recall feeling in one other place.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He followed behind her, allowing her to move through the grove as she desired, unhindered. Eyes ghosting over the awe and wonder, with a smile fading over his expression, he lingered as she moved to embrace the woods. Eyes lit with the pale expression of cerulean blossoms, vibrant life spanning the distance from branches to leaves, and the very way the world came alive around them.

The lightside, coursing and healing through everything.

Hazel view shifted as he walked past her, fingers tracing over the edges of the bark and the tips of those finger nails. With a smile, he moved silently beyond her and down an ever constantly tread path. Small children, peaceful beasts, a wise Zelosian, a Jedi Healer. Until he stood before a long span of wood, wedged in shape, and propped atop saw horse legs.

Knocking his tongue as he stopped to inspect, he approached with eyes emboldened by new growth. Bees moved out from slits across the roof and he offered shallow breaths, a moment of respect for work done, as he lifted the top and placed it down on the ground. The workers and gatherers continued on their paths, moving through the combs or on their path to the Ankarres.

Reaching inward, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand back out as he looked towards the Queen. Long arms, full belly, she stroked her antennae with her foreleg. He looked back down towards the hive, vision narrowing. They were supposed to treat for those, many cycles ago.

The queen moved, forelegs shifting to her large compound eye, stroking over the head. Pacing back and forth, Gabe offered a laugh and nod. Yes, of course. I will talk to them about it.

Reaching back in, he placed the queen upon breach of comb. Pulling the hive tool from the side bin, he began to cut away the propolis from the various flared edges within the interior of the hive.

[member="Cerusia Shamalain"]​