Breeding strills is a very serious matter. They’re not like dogs, who live a decade plus. No—their lifespans are three or four times an average human’s even with Star Wars medicine. Even individual strills are heirlooms that are passed from one generation of people to the next. Strill blood lines? Priceless. The work of millennia.
A/N: Hey babes! This is number two of the #mandomay2021 prompt list. I promise they'll be getting longer! Enjoy 💕
I'm going to be doing the #mandomay2021 from instagram, because I want to get back to writing about Mr. Din "I don't want to be the ruler of Mandalore" Djarin. I'm presenting these as one shots, but there's an order to the chaos. I may assemble these into a proper fic someday. I'm also wading into some new territory, and I'm fleshing out a whole ass mandalorian, which is really intimidating. This is set after S2, so no baby Grogurt.
Masterlist | Beskar | Aru'e
The crunch of your boots on the cold terrain reminded you of your mission. The dragging weight of the now painted beskar reminded you of your clan. The constant tapping of claws against the icy mountainside reminded you that your Strill needed to eat.
“Burc’ya, go hunt.” You commanded, knowing your companion would have no trouble navigating the ridges of Jelucan, nor would it struggle in securing a meal. Your striile drove you nuts, but you were charged with it’s care. Clan Vorn had fallen. You were the last of your clan, and you’d be damned if you’d let the vile beast die. Until you drew your last breath, Echi would have a home.
You hadn’t considered Echi in your revenge plan.
“Not revenge. Justice. My plan for justice.” You gritted the words out, the modulator distorting the emotion in your voice.
Regardless, you hadn’t considered Echi. Strill could live for hundreds of years. While Echi was an older Strill, and the odds of her returning to Mandalore were slim, you still wanted a contingency plan for your inevitable departure. You needed another mandalorian. There was no one left in your clan, but surely there remained mandalorians throughout the galaxy. You remembered your new king and let a small smile play on your lips. Perhaps he would prefer the company of a weird beast to ruling Mandalore. Perhaps he would appreciate Echi, and perhaps he would love the creature.
You scoffed at yourself and adjusted your vision to scan the ridge. There was no need to think so deeply on matters that would never pass. What you needed was a real mandalorian, and the best place to start was a densely crowded population. Or, at the very least, a cantina. You nodded when you found your mark in the distance and set a quick descending pace.
Valentia, the capital city of Jelucan. A perfect hiding spot for a clan not looking to make much noise. You settled in for the walk across the desolate landscape. You tried to convince yourself that the setback wasn’t a waste. You might add people to your cause.
Your nastier inner voice scoffed. You knew, in that unfathomable place, that you were alone on your journey. It would tear you apart, it would rip you to your core, and still you would bleed alone. Your clan was gone. Your family was gone. You were completely alone. Cold beskar would still be cold in the presence of a stranger.
Before your thoughts could get darker, Echi came bounding back, the golden fur bathed in a deep red. You greeted the beast with a rub on the head. You had grown knowing Echi as a great protector and friend. Strill may not be attractive companions, or smell the best, but Echi was maternal to you. The creature had nested with you, your siblings, and your parents. Perhaps, Echi was old enough to have nested with your grandparents, though that story was lost to time, if it existed in the first place.
You fell into a comfortable step with your companion, and set your eyes to the skyline of Valentia. By nightfall, you would know if other mandalorians resided on Jelucan. And if you were persuasive enough, you might know where to find them.
