Harvest

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira's work had paid off, and the year's early bounty was coming into fruition along his garden plot. The spring's first harvest of delicate greens, berries, purple conestalks, and other produce were at last ready to be cut and brought to the Jedi camp to share. He'd enlisted the help of the Jedi padawans and younglings in the time-intensive work of harvesting the crops to return to the settlement.

The work had taken most of the day, and had been done in good spirits. They'd parceled up the harvest to be stowed on a pair of repulsor sleds they were able to requisition from the settlement. Now, with the suns setting, they had time to relax and reflect upon the day's work. Anbira found a tree far from the stand adjacent to his hermitage that looked to have taken a bolt of lighting a few cycles ago. It's trunk was split, and its bare leaves signaled that it was dead. With a swipe of his lightsaber, he felled the old wood, righting it with the force so that it fell clear of the other trees or any bystanders. With that done, the Jedi hermit hopped astride, severing the trunk at equal lengths for firewood.

He watched as the padawans helped with this work as well, taking portioned sections of firewood in armloads as they returned to the hermitage to arrange them in a pre-dug fire pit.

"Thank you all for your hard work. If your time permits it, I would like to prepare dinner for you and reflect on our work today."

[Kazahan]

Kazahan stretched, enjoying the feel of the breeze lightly whisking through his fur; due to the heat, he'd only put on a light pair of beige trousers, tied off at the ankle and with several strategic rips and tears to allow ventilation. The last time he'd not worn clothing like most others around, he'd been accused of trying to expose himself to young children.

"This one still has no mentor, and so will not be sneaking off if I stay here," he replied with his usual smile. He had yet to realize most people didn't realize he was smiling. He knelt, and allowed the youngest of the children to place firewood into his arms. They seemed to enjoy it, and he enjoyed seeing that he was apparently quite strong; he carried around ten pieces of wood to the pit at a time, while most other carried four or five at most.

He used this as a chance to practice the skill of funneling fatigue into the Force; the instructor had said it was dangerous, as it didn't truly clear the acids and other such things that contributed to muscle fatigue, but eased the practitioner's mental processes to be able to handle it for longer than he normally would. It was a lead-in to true meditation, and Kazahan appreciated that the instructor seemed to note his proclivity for tasks with tangible results by which to gauge himself.

"Kazahan wonders, will we be eating the produce tonight?" he asked, feeling his stomach growl. Thankfully his species had evolved into omnivores, though they as a rule preferred meat.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"It would be imprudent not to. What we've cut is at it's prime right now."

Of course, Anbira didn't expect his entourage to be satisfied by greenery alone. He gestured to a tree on the opposite side of the hermitage, where a dressed deer carcass was hung after having been bled into a bucket. He'd learned how to hunt on Felucia, where a thrown lightsaber could do every bit the work of a slugthrower or a bow.

"Of course, our reward today isn't the bounty of the field alone, my friend. I think Padawan Khan might sooner eat the topsoil than suffer my spinach."

[Akasha Khan]

Padawan Khan was at that moment studiously snipping clods of dirt out of her fur with her claws. She'd offered to help gather some prey animals for refreshments, or simply to chase them away from Anbira's pet plants, but he'd insisted she do her part of the harvest. Thank Maiur he'd allowed her to stay away from the potato-digging efforts, or her paws would be solid masses of clotted earth by now - she shuddered at the thought of intentionally diving into that much filth.

"Plants have their place," she said. "They're just farther down the food chain than I like to reach. Anyway..."

She picked up a bowl full of freshly shelled peas - her claws had made short work of the pods. "The more plants you omnivores eat, the more meat's left over."

[Hwooroc]

He'd been given the most fun job, to be sure. Hwooroc had been assigned to potato duty. Rather than snipping or plucking, the object of the game was to dig, to tear up the soil around the potato plants and to find the buried treasure of tubers hidden below. Arboreal claws unsheathed happily to meet the challenge, and the little Wookiee became an energetic blur, rooting through the soil like a tiny backhoe. Sprays of dark loam went everywhere, and when he found a prized tuber, Hwooroc let loose a happy "Hwwaaaghh!", throwing each found potato on the pile.

He'd found two hundred thirty two of them. He'd counted! And once he made sure they were stacked into a neat little pyramid, he trotted over to help with the next task, peering over the bucket of shucked peas Akasha worked with as he flashed an underbite smile across his dirt-caked face.

[Jamis Kerr]

Hefting a fairly good-sized basket full to the brim with ears of corn, Jamis made his way to where Akasha was, and carefully set his load down. Standing up straight, he rolled his shoulders before gently clapping his hands together to remove any leftover dust and leafy particles from his palms.

A wide grin was flashed to Hwooroc, and the boy cast his eyes to Akasha.

"Aw c'mon, it isn't all that bad. All this stuff is good for you. And fresher than those limp canned fruits that we always get served with every breakfast."

He gestured to the little Wookiee.

"See? His hands might be dirty, but he's still having fun."

[Akasha Khan]

"Well, good for him," Akasha replied, "but he doesn't have a religious mandate against getting unnecessarily filthy, does he?"

Never mind that the religious mandate in question was to pamper herself as much as was socially allowable. It was difficult trying to explain advanced theological concepts like the divinity of one's own body to the uninitiated; they always had a hard time distinguishing scriptural truth from bragging. Akasha tried to smile back at Hwooroc's dirty mug but only succeeded in a half-hearted grimace before she felt compelled to wash her face.

"I'm not saying you're wrong for liking vegetables. Just, I generally eat things that do."

[Kazahan]

"'Generally'?" the Trianii asked, brushing the chips of wood and dirt from his arm and chest fur. "This one does not believe you eat anything that does not bleed."

His tail flicked back and forth while he spoke, his eyes trained on the carcass hanging and swaying gently some yards away.

"It smells so good," he murmured. His stomach growled. Thankfully, a fly buzzed by his ear and distracted him for a few moments as he tried to catch it.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

The felinoids were naturally distracted, and Anbira laughed, as it was an understandable reason.

"We shall have plenty for all soon enough. Perhaps you and Akasha can be responsible for quartering our hunted bounty? I have procured a few items from the camp's mess, so we can properly have dinner under starlight."

Carrying several cords of freshly-hewn firewood, Anbira walked to the clearing where the fire pit had been arranged. A careful manipulation of the force and the wood arranged itself in a well-positioned stack that arranged the kindling at the base and had each quarter log interlocking into a rough cone shape. Once completed, Anbira again removed his lightsaber, drawing the blade as he held it gently at the kindling's base. The initial effect was to vaporize the wood that was contacted, but there was just enough heat at the periphery to alight the sap-rich kindling, which sputtered and sparked as thick puffs of smoke belched out. Beneath that smoke, a flame started. A careful motion of Anbira's hand drew an artificial breeze to the spot, feeding the fire's genesis with oxygen to encourage it to catch.

[Sirdi Kōhō]

Slumped over his bushel of green beans, his face grimaced. Sirdi knew food. Scattered throughout the past decade he was kitchen staff at several run-down joints and restaurants. Yet, he had only a hand-full of occasions wrestled with the other side of food handling. His brows furrowed. His lip ends scrunched. The sun bit him and his three button sleeve shirt. Most the man’s clothes were fit for all seasons but winter. The Alliance to Restore the Republic stationed him on strange, cold worlds; Ossus was the first with much vegetation and wildlife. So, any chance he got, he experienced the settlement’s uniqueness. Normally, he enjoyed it; this time, however, he was starting to feel regretful.
Standing up, he swiped sweat from his brows with his forearm. A heavy breath escaped him. Throwing his head back, he took in another deep breath. His wide stance was held together by planting his dried-up hands on his waist. Sirdi had no idea picking beans was so tedious – or that he was such a lazy bum.

He was learning a lot today – and hopefully more, such as other settler’s names.

“You two needa relax, frell,” he snatched up his basket and walked by the Tranii to lay it down. “I’d think you’d take uh nibble outta me if he don’t finish up fast enough.”

Sirdi glanced over his shoulder at the dark haired Tranii as he placed the harvest down, showing his canines with a faint smile.