Under the Starry Skies

{OoC: Yay, this should be fun ;D DLA!}

In all of Dutch's 25 years, he didn't think he had ever worked so hard. A year sober now, and proud of himself for sticking with it. And after a day such as that day, he cracked open a bottle of one of the workers own Kylah Brew- Dutch deserved it. Sitting atop of a wooden bench facing the bonfire his pops and friends had just started up, clapping and whooping with the others as it lit. He bent forward, the leather of his jacket groaning slightly as he rested his elbows onto his knees. A gust of cool night time air ruffled his hair, making the flames dance off the bonfire, Dutch chuckling as a couple of workers fled the licking flames. Most of the day had been spent manually picking one of the crop fields with a whole mess of Erle's employees- just because a harvester was down didn't mean work was. A burst of wetness seeped from his mouth, the scent of his mother's smoked iriaz wafting into his nose. Wonder what Ma's got to go with it... Thought the young man, a contented sigh coming from him.

Just another day in paradise. Dutch wouldn't want it any other way. He spotted Al coming out of the main garage, his taller younger brother looking content- obviously pleased with his progress on their downed harvester. Gray eyes darted to a couple of the farmhands as they picked up instruments and began to play, a lopsided grin touching Dutch's lips as he saw Al's hand fall to one of his pockets- going for what Dutch guessed was his brother's harmonica. Al always was the artsy one of the brothers. Dutch raised his hand before he hollered

"Al! Over here!"

Then patted the table spot next to him, motioning for his little brother to come sit with him. Al was always welcome company, as he wasn't only Dutch's little brother- he was his best friend. Maybe I'll let the fellah take a sip of my ale... Pondered Dutch, a pursed grin sitting on his smug face. As he awaited his brother, Dutch began glancing around for Mo- the Mirialan woman usually wasn't far from everyone, and it was odd that she wasn't with Al or Dutch. He didn't bother looking for Lily, no matter what hopes he held late at night, he knew that she wouldn't be here, or ever back on Kylah for that matter. A heavy sigh followed that though, Dutch shaking his head to get it out of his mind. Hopefully Al would make Dutch's night better.

Allistair picked his head up at the sound of his brother's voice carrying over from across the gathering area. His dark brown eyes roamed around for a moment, trying to find his brother's face in the gathering crowd of people. "Hey Dutch," he called out with a wave of his hand. "I'll be over in just a sec!"

Al decided that he'd wander around for a bit to see who else was out and about before heading over to hang with his older brother. Of course, the night's festivities had just begun, and it would take a while for everyone to converge to the bonfire grounds, but there was already a good number of people gathered around. I wonder where Mo is, he thought as he looked around. The Mirilian had been around for as long as Allistair could remember, and seemed as much a part of the family as he or Dutch was. And it helped that she was just a cool person to be around. But, wherever she was, she wasn't there. Or at least not yet, anyway; that or Allistair was just missing her. Eh, she'll show up.

A cool burst of air blew in from the plains, and set Al to shivering a bit. He'd been inside most of the day, and all he had on was a short sleeved shirt--not really the best thing for keeping away the nighttime chill. But it wasn't too bad, so he figured he'd be alright. He could always just move in closer to the fire if needed. But the wind brought more than a chill; when it blew, he caught the hint what smelled like his mom's cooking. Oh man, he thought as his mouth started to water lustfully, I'd love some of ma's cooking right about now. It reminded him of a something one of the older farmhands had told him a while ago. "There's three things a man should always want to hold on to: his wits, his gun, and his mama's cookin'" That had gotten a laugh from Al, which the old worker answered with a smile and a wink. But from what Al could tell, the advice seemed true enough.

Al turned to head over to his older brother with a nostalgic grin. "Hey, Dutch," he said as he jumped up on to the bench to sit next to his brother. He looked over to his older, shorter brother--that was disconcerting; a recent growth spurt had pushed Allistair to stand talelr than Dutch was, and Al was still a bit thrown off by it--and grinned. "Hope workin' without the harvester isn't too bad. Plan to have her all fixed up by tomorrow." He sighed and looked up at the stars, and the image of the galaxy that spread out above him. "So," he said as he turned back to his brother, "whacha think mom's makin' for dinner tonight?"

Almost done mom, here, one last sip...

Mo held the small bowl up for her mother, eyebrows arching, entreating her mother to drink the last of her soup. The older Mirialan woman sighed and took the bowl out of her daughters hands. She might have been bed ridden, but she wasn't yet out of the use of her own two hands. Mo smiled, satisfied, and waited until her mother finished and handed back the bowl.

Why are you in here, girl. They're doing a bonfire tonight. Get.

Pritha shooed her daughter away from the bed. Mo only giggled at her mother's feeble gesture. But she rose up from the bed nonetheless. Crossing the room, Mo set the bowl on a tray with a few other cups that would need to be taken to the kitchen and washed.

I'm serious Mohana. I don't need you looking after me like some baby. Go be with your friends.

Mom, I will, calm down.

Mo had turned and sat back down on the bed next to her mother. It'd been almost a year since her father had died, and now her mother seemed to be on her way out as well. Pritha was old, Mo knew, and in the end death would come for them all, but that didn't mean she'd have to just give up and watch her mother wither away. She still had good days. Sometimes she could get up and move around the estate, getting fresh air and some sun. Other days... she stayed in bed and did what sowing she could there. The doctor had said it was just age, nothing specific that ailed her. To Mo, that was the worst of news. If it was a sickness, there were medicines. If it was an injury, there was kolto. But to be told that there was nothing to be done, well... Mo didn't know how to handle that.

Mohana...

Mo's eyes snapped back into focus and met with her mother's. They were the exact same blue as her own. Pritha took Mo's hand and patted it lightly between her own. She smiled at her daughter before giving a slightly overdone yawn.

I'm tired dear. Help me lay back.

Mo recognized what her mother was doing, but in the end, sleep was probably best. That's what the doctor had always said anyway. Sleep and rest and plenty of liquids. Well, if she wanted to play her games, at least she was following the rules. Mo pulled back the blankets and helped her mother ease into a more comfortable position. She pulled the blankets back up and over her mother's shoulders. Pritha smiled, patting Mo's hand once again, then rolled over and closed her eyes. Mo sat there, watching her mother's shoulder rise and fall with her breathing.

Get out of here girl. Can't you see I'm sleeping?

Mo couldn't help but laugh as she stood and exited the room. Shaking her head, she closed the door behind her. Pritha was a proud woman. Mo had made her intentions of caring for her mother known, but there were times to fight and times to admit defeat. Pritha had won this battle.

Exiting the small buidling that had become the Lakshmi home on the Sampson estate, it didn't take long for Mo to hear the laughter, nor smell the enticing signs of a bonfire dinner. The whole thing brought a smile to her face and Mo half walked, half jogged to the bonfire site.

She came upon the scene behind two men she'd grown to know as brothers. Dutch and Al sat on a bench, facing the blaze, and Mo caught Al's question as she came into earshot. She smiled, creeping up on the two, then pounced, landing on the bench and squeezing between them.

You'd think a grown man could recognize the smell of cooking iriaz. I think all that time with your nose in machines has wacked your sense of smell!

Dutch couldn't help but grin back at Al, his younger brother indeed had an addictive smile. As he say next to Dutch, the older brother reached to the metal bucket filled with ice on the table behind him and pulled a bottled drink out for Al, handing the chilled beverage to him with a chuckle.

"Eh, y'know lil' brother. It ain't too bad, and a little back breakin' work never hurt anyone right? Wait, I think that's exactly what that means..."

Spoke Dutch, the young man getting a confused expression for a moment as he looked away from Al and back into the fire. Little did he know, but the lithe form of Mo was just behind them, stalking her prey. The attack happened suddenly, a presence made itself known as it slid gracefully between Dutch and Al. With a surprisingly high pitched yell Dutch jumped, his hand landed on the right hip where Buttercup usually sat out of habit. But of course, Dutch's beloved shotgun lay on the ground under him. He turned to face Mo with an exasperated expression.

"Dammit Mo! How many times have I told ya not to do that?"

He stammered, a hand on his chest as he did. After a moment his heart returned to its normal pace, and Dutch scooted back to his seat, Mo's warmth pleasant in the colder night. With his hip touching hers, Dutch bent forward to look past Mo and snicker at Al.

"Seriously Al? After all these years, you still can't recognize Mom's iriaz?"

He chuckled as he brought his ale to his lips, taking a draft before he set it down on the bench seat right between his feet. Dutch's hand moved back to the bucket of ice to grab an ale for Mo. His rough hands twisted the top off the bottled brew before he handed it off to Mo, a slightly concerned look touched his face now.

"How's Mama Pritha holdin' up today? I haven't had a chance to look in on her in a couple days, I'm sorry."

After Dutch spoke his left hand moved to rub one of Mo's shoulders, he hoped that it would help relax the Mirialan woman a bit- as anyone would be insane not to be stressed about this type of situation.

"Well, don't mind if I do," Allistair said as he took the chilled bottle from his brother's hand. He opened the top and downed a bit. Allistair didn't drink much, and he couldn't really hold that much before his mind started to go fuzzy, but the Kylah Brew was good. He sighed appreciatively once he had his drink and set the bottle down in between his feet. "And yeah, I'm pretty sure back breaking means it hurt someone," he said with a laugh at his brother. "By the way," he added as he glanced around the area, "you seen Mo anywhere?"

While neither of the Sampson brothers may have known where Mo was, she certainly knew where they were. The sneaky Mirialan had set her sights on both of them, and they were in for quite the surprise when she pounced. Allistair jumped to his feet with a curse, and reached for his knife... which wasn't there, and he ended up brandishing a hydrospanner at Mo instead. He could feel his tan cheeks reddening in embarrassment. That was quickly replaced by amusement at his brother's reaction. Dutch had squealed! "Does the Kylah Voritor always squeal like that," he asked Dutch before snickering for a moment and sitting back down. "And don't worry about it, Mo, I think he's just mad that you made him squeal like a little girl." Allistair had a good laugh at that, though he made no mention of his own reaction, when he'd been brandishing the spanner about like a fool.

Allistair felt his cheeks heating up again at Mo's remark, and it was Dutch's turn to snicker at him. Of course it was the iriaz! How did he not realize that? "My nose works just fine, thanks," he muttered. True, he'd been smelling nothing but grease all day, but his sense of smell was just fine. "'Sides," he added with a wicked grin," if you think my time in the garage is messin' my nose up, I could just take tomorrow off. What was it you said, Dutch, a little back-breaking labor never hurt anyone?" Al reached down to take another drink of his brew. "I could just work on something other than the harvester to get away from that grease smell, if ya'd like." He looked at his brother with a wry grin before setting the drink back down. And he awsn't kidding, either. There always seemed to be something that needed fixing at the Sampson estate; he could find something else to occupy a day if he really wanted to.

His grin faded and his face softened when Dutch asked about Mama Pritha. "I haven't been able to check in on her either," he added, feeling a bit of guilt. "I hope everything's alright," he said quietly.

Mo's whole body rocked with laughter, at both of her "brothers". Between Dutch's squeal and Al's attempt to retaliate with his hydrospanner, she couldn't help it. Tears were quickly coming to her eyes as she shrugged off the two men's words. If they didn't like it, they should be more alert.

After wiping her eyes and settling back down between the two, Mo gave a contented sigh, chuckling slightly as the two men continued on. She accepted the offered ale from Dutch and took a nice, long swig. She could hold her own when it came to the brew. Not quite as well as some of the men, but she could drink a select few under the table. She enjoyed the smooth feel of the liquid, so much so that she'd almost missed Dutch's question. But even if she hadn't, Al's follow-up ensured that she couldn't play it off like she hadn't heard them.

She continued her swig a bit longer than was perhaps necessary. But she couldn't stall her answer forever. Setting the bottle down between her feet, Mo sighed and shrugged her shoulders. It was hard enough to control her concern in front of her mother. With everyone else, well... Mo had never been one for wearing her emotions on her sleeve, not even with Dutch or Al.

She's doing ok. You know how she is. Sleeping right now, actually.

Luckily, Mo was saved from any further discussion by the sudden appearance of Mama Sampson and a few other hands as they brought out the meal. A long buffet style table was being laid with the final touches, and all the hands were beginning to stir, ready to move in and grab a plate. Mo took the opportunity to change the subject. She slapped her hands on one knee of each man and used their legs to hoist herself up to a standing position.

Well boys, looks like it's time for eats!

She didn't linger, but instead trotted over to the table, grabbing a plate and securing herself a place in line for the grub. As the fire crackled, people were chatting and laughing as their piled their plates high with the abundant assortment of food. Mo took a little bit of everything, as she so often did, before returning to the table where she and the boys had been sitting. She picked at her food, a little bit here, and a little bit there, as she chatted with those that passed by her. She couldn't keep the smile off of her face.

Dutch glared at his little brother as he watched Al sit down, the younger man obviously getting a kick out of Dutch's reaction. His tease about his scream made Dutch grin though, the man leaned back and said

"No, but he always hits like this!"

His left hand balled into a fist and he punched Al's shoulder roughly, not using his full might but still enough to put Al in his place. Dutch chuckled at his own lame attempt at that joke. Though when Al joked about not fixing the downed harvester, Dutch made a playful glare at his brother, but couldn't help but laugh after. But when Mo responded about Pritha, Dutch mentally frowned, her answer confirmed what he thought- she was still getting worse. Despite the fact that Mo wouldn't out and say what was going on, growing up with the woman allowed him a bit of an insight into her behavior.

He sighed and took another drink of his ale, but not long after that, Leiliana showed up with several workers, all carrying large portions of food. Dutch got up right after Mo and ran over to his mother, he kissed her on the cheek and took the giant, heavy platter of iriaz. With a big grin and a laugh he heaved the platter over to the spread before he set it down. With a quick pluck he grabbed a bit of the smoked meat and placed it in his mouth. His eyes rolled slightly to the back of his head as the smoked, sweet meat just melted in his mouth. Damn his mom was a good cook.

Dutch made it back to the table Mo sat at, a massive pile of food adorned his plate- most of it iriaz meat. Without another word, he dug in, using just his hands to bring piece after juicy piece of meat to his mouth, occasionally he grabbed a bottle of spicy sauce to cover the meat, groaning with pleasure after a bite of the spicy meat. He didn't even stop to dip his brew, or talk- most people on the Estate knew that when Dutch was eating, you wouldn't be able to interrupt him. At one point he noticed something on Mo's plate, with sauce all over his mouth he gestured to a piece of meat on her plate.

"Gonna eat that?"

Without another moment's wait he reached over the table to her plate and plucked the piece of meat off her plate then began to eat off it. After a while, Dutch sat back, his plate cleaned and himself full. He grabbed a napkin and began methodically wiping his face clean, a pleased look on his face the entire time. As he did, Dutch saw his father walk towards their table, though by his stride, it was apparent he was just walking past. Erle winked at his sons and Mo with a pleased expression before he clapped Dutch on the shoulder as he passed.

Dutch looked over at Al as he got up and grabbed another drink from the bucket- this time choosing a non-alcoholic brew, one that was fizzy and tasted of lkla tree fruit. He took back his seat and ran his tongue across his teeth. It had been awhile since the three of them had all trained. But first, he needed to digest. He took a sip of his drink and crossed his arms before he leaned on them on the table.

"Ya'll up for a walk tonight?"

He asked, his eyebrows slightly raised. Dutch hoped they were, after working all day, a pleasant stroll would be good. Regardless if the two would follow, Dutch grunted and stood up. He walked back to where he was sitting before and grabbed Buttercup before he slid his beloved shotgun into his right thigh holster. Dutch walked back and grabbed his drink, motioning with his head for Mo and Al to follow him. He waved at his mother and father, the pair sat near the fire, Erle's arm wrapped around his wife. Dutch began to walk in the direction of the river to the south of his father's property.

Al laughed as Mo did, both at his brother and at the overall silliness of the situation. It was the moments like these that he cherished, and he hoped things would stay this way for a long time to come. His gaze turned back up to look at the stars again. Come to think of it, he couldn't think of any reason why things would change, short of people leaving as Lily had. But he didn't think that would happen. Lily had gone to pursue a medical career. The rest of them were farmers, more or less, and he didn't see why anyone would go anywhere. A contented smile grew on his face, and he turned back to look at his brother at the sound of his voice. Wait, he always hits like... aw, dammit... Allistair tensed slightly before Dutch's blow landed, and though it hurt a bit, it wasn't enough to be much of a concern. But he didn't relish the thought of getting hit again, so he gave his brother a wry smirk, but kept his mouth shut.

He made a mental note to pay a visit to Mama Pritha. It'd been too long since he'd seen her last, and he would feel guilty if he didn't. But the group was suddenly spared the melancholy by the appearance of Leiliana, the Sampson brothers' mother. Allistair's mouth watered at the scent of the cooked Iriaz, and he snickered when he saw his brother's eyes rolling back blissfully at the smell of the good. Another night, another time for Dutch to turn into some sort of animal for dinner. It was always amusing. He was right behind Dutch and Mo in line, and had a fairly sizable portion of food for himself, though it could not compare with what Dutch had accumulated. But really, nothing other than a machine could compete with Allistair's older brother.

And so the feast began. Al tried to focus on his own plate, but it was hard with Dutch sitting next to him making the most awful noises... but he'd gotten used to it over the years and ignored his brother's crazed feast. He snickered to himself again when Dutch took a piece of meat from Mo's plate, and was tempted to try to take something from Dutch's to see what would happen. But, he valued not having broken fingers, so he decided it'd be in his best interest to keep his hands to himself. "Hey dad!" he called out to Erle as his father walked by the table before going back to his meal.

Finally, though, the meal was completed. Allistair sighed contentedly and leaned back in his seat. "Sure thing, Dutch," he said to his brother's question, "just gotta get my pistol and jacket..." With that he got up and ran back into the homestead to the room he shared with his brother, where his things were. He picked up and threw on his jacket and put on the belt that held his pistol and it's holster. He replaced the hydrospanner with the knife, as it should have been, before heading back out; after all, the plains could be dangerous at times, and it never hurt to be prepared.

He cought up with his brother after a short jog and slowed down to a walk, panting lightly as he did. "So we're he headed?"

The business of eating was quite different among the many that lived on the Sampson estate. Mo, Al, and Dutch were a testament to the range. Where Dutch devoured literally everything in sight, and large amounts of it, Al could be seen as the more average range. Al ate quite a bit, but did so at a more normal rate. At the opposite end of the seemingly ravenous Dutch was Mo. Mo ate slowly and quite a bit less than the boys. She chewed.... Rarely did Mo experience the near painful full sensation that Dutch would soon experience. No, she would become satiated and then stop.

Of course, difference in eating patterns was also a reflection on the difference in their figure. Dutch was by no means fat, on the contrary, he was exceedingly healthy. This was possible due to the sheer amount of energy expended by him on a regular basis. In a sense, Dutch almost HAD to eat as he did just to maintain his health. It was almost a contradiction.

Mo gave little more than a roll of the eyes when Dutch swiped the meat from her plate. It was fine, as it always was. Like an alpha in a Kath Hound pack, Dutch was allowed his little quirks. She was near finished eating anyway. She wouldn't miss the bite of food.

As they finished, Dutch suggested a stroll, and Mo couldn't think of anything better. She loved the plains, no matter the time of day. She never felt unsafe on the plains when she had them around. And so she nodded her agreement before rushing back to the Lakshmi house to fetch her own jacket... and check in on her mother. But Pritha was fast asleep, and so Mo opted not to disturb her rest. She grabbed her jacket from her own small and returned outside.

Mohana!

Mo turned her head as she was passing the bonfire to catch up with the boys to find that their father Erle had been the one to call her name. Knowing that the boys wouldn't go far without her, she changed her course to bring her up by the elder Sampson's side. He sat at a central table, next to his wife and was just finishing his meal as she approached.

Hey Papa Bear.

Mo kissed the man on his cheek after calling him by the pet name she'd given him so many years ago. He chuckled and gave her a sideways hug from where he sat as he worked on swallowing the bite of meat he'd just taken.

What was that song I heard you singing the other day? The one you were singing with Aaron over there.

Erle pointed to one of the farmers who now held a guitar in his hands. Aaron waved his hand to call Mo over at hearing Erle's question. He was already tuning the instrument. Mo blushed slightly. She knew what question Erle would follow up with.

Sing it for us, wont you?

Yep, she'd been right. Mo smiled bashfully, but there were too many people now egging her on. Mama Sampson started clapping, and soon the whole company was conspired against her, cheering for her to sing. With a sigh and a laugh, Mo finally nodded and moved to stand next to Aaron. Clearing her throat, Mo took a breath and as Aaron played, she sang.

On this earth, not alone we stand
Outstretched arm and upturned hand
Never knowing when the shakes steady
And 'till now we have seldom seen
And I will go if you go with me
Understand I will wait for thee
I'll try to catch up if you move quickly
If the rain does blow

And oh sir
If you ever lose your way
You can call upon this family
you can call upon this day
And oh mam
If you ever lose your way
You can call upon this family
You can call upon this day

'Cause you're my present my future
My lesson my teacher
Oh... My world is still
You're my guard you're my guide
In my life I confide to ever shelter your will
And my words are forerver you're my blanket my shiver
Whatever you give I'll never lack

You're my chorus my refrain
The verse of my first pain
Let the voices come barrelling back

'Cause I can stand to stay right where I am
Let the water fill this hand
Bring it to your mouth
And pass beyond your lips
No gale can down this ship

And I'll stand on your shoulders
To watch us grow older
I can see us far along the road
As the trail grows deeper
your my giver my keeper
Laughter for years untold

'Cause I can stand to stay right where I am
Let the water fill this hand
Bring it to your mouth
And pass beyond your lips
No gale can down this ship

And wherever you go there you are
And if I go I won't go far
Wherever you go
There you are
And if I go I won't go far

And oh sir
If you ever lose your way
You can call upon this family
You can call upon this day

As the last words of the song faded away, Mo found herself standing among a silent crowd. The mood had become contemplative, inward, as those gathered around the fire looked back and forth between each other. The love in their eyes and the smiles on their faces ensured Mo that their silence wasn't because her voice had been displeasing to their ears. After a time of silence, Erle finally spoke as he pulled his wife close to him.

Thank you Mohana. That was brilliant.

Mo blushed again, gave Aaron a hug, and quickly retreated away from the somber, yet still happy scene she'd had a hand in creating. She jogged out of the light of the fire and into the cooler, blue light of the stars and moon. The chill she felt had little to do with the weather, but was the ever expected reaction to singing in front of people. She'd done it so many times ever since she'd been discovered as having a fairly decent voice, but it never stopped the chill. But when her eyes landed on the forms of her two brothers, she shook the feeling off and jogged up behind them.

Sorry. So, where we going?

((Song lyrics from State Radio's "Indian Moon"))