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A quiet night under the stars on Lothal, Shin's lying in the grass next to Sabine, "What does it feel like?" They ask, risking a glance over to the other woman in the silver light of the moons.
"What does what feel like?" Sabine hums, fingers twiddling where they're clasped over her stomach.
"To be you?" There's something vulnerable there, something that tells Sabine not to look at them, so she focuses her golden eyes on the reflection of the light that reminds her of Shin so much.
"Everything sings," Her hand raises, open towards the night sky, a gentle breeze skirting past open fingers as her other hand drops from her stomach and to the grass, caking mud under her nails when she sinks the tips of her fingers into the dirt, to the still rain-damp layers below the surface.
"Sings? They question, and Sabine can hear them rustling in the grass, rolling onto their side so they can look across the foot of empty space separating them.
"Music is in everything, y'know?" The artist shrugged, letting her raised hand finally drop back to the ground to twist grass up between her fingers.
"The wind in the grass, the ships coming out and going in, the life in the cities, the life we can't even see, all of it; and that’s just who I am."
"I am the wind echoing across the stone and I'm the sun melting away shadows, and sometimes I'm the color and the world is just waiting on me to paint it; I spent too long living in monochrome prisons to be anything but this.. this life,"
"Maybe that's sappy," Sabine huffed out with a tired smile, moving her dirt-streaked hands back over her stomach, clasping them together once more, as if physically holding herself in and against the earth beneath them.
"To a Mandalorian, everything is handled in song- The Manda is everything we are. Past, present, and future. It's this collective of all of our brothers and sisters, the songs of the lives they've lived. I can't be me without mentioning them, and the songs they’ve woven into this life-"
Offering a sheepish smile, Sabine dares to look back at Shin. Their gaze is cast towards the moons in thought, their fingers twirling the padawan braid in a self-stimulating movement, the ball of their gemstone sliding between the lightsaber-calloused pads of her fingertips.
They seemed deep in thought, so Sabine let her words fade into the calming silence. From the tower, she could faintly hear Ezra, fumbling as he tried to navigate their home in its new state, with the most naggy occupant in the form of a territorial Loth-cat.
When peace and good company had finally begun to lull Sabine into a near sleep-like tranquility, Shin had spoken. "The force is like that too," They were contemplative, head held up in one hand, while the other traced a line of smell pebbles hidden in the grass, elbow digging an indent into the earth that would surely stain the worn fabric.
"Singing?"
"Ah... Perhaps," Shin's nose crinkled. "I do not hear the music you are referring to, but-" The wolf sat up, legs crossing beneath them and hands dropping to the dirt caught in her greaves. "I can hear the stories." When Sabine's gaze flickered back to them, she found the pebbles, suspended in the air above their palms.
"Not the echoes in the force, more..." A slow exhale, the furrowing of their brows, and a tingle of anxiety as it melted into the cosmos around them. "Your music, your Manda; that is the force, for me... My Master taught me that everything was the will of The Force, like the Jedi; that we are conduits of the Force and executors of its will... and the Force has to have wants based on experience, right?"
A smile flickered on Sabine's lips as she watched the pebbles rise higher, the stars reflecting in their eyes as they followed the bottommost stone. Even after everything, Shin never did get talking much; Sabine learned long ago to take every moment their passion and drive for understanding was allowed to surface as it was offered.
"The Force is written by the lives of all, these stones were once boulders, and in the Force, their pieces can be found; they never stop Being. They will always have a story, even when we cannot see them anymore."
"Funny, Jedi and Mandalorians have a long history of fighting over things like this when they're so similar," Sabine shook her head as she finally sat up, brushing grass out of her hair.
The pitter-patter of soft paws in the grass tickled her ears, though before Sabine's head could turn, Murley was already making his way to clamber into Shin's open lap. "Little beast," They greeted with a sigh, allowing their pebbles to drop into their hands, setting them down back into the dirt where they had been found.
"I always had a hard time understanding the 'Force is life' thing, But I get it, I think;"
"There is no true way to get it. However you interpret it, so long as you are acknowledging the life it has and the impact you have on it all, that's what it is." Silence fell over the two women again, Sabine allowed her body to lean, shoulder drifting until she was pressing against the smooth leather of the jacket she would never hope to get back.
"Thanks for that; I think sometimes, I need the reminder of how big it all is, and how we're all significant despite the size of it."
"Well, you cannot punch it, paint it, or blow it up, so I doubt you would have understood it alone, Mandalorian,"
"Why you little-!" Sabine shoved into Shin, sending Murley hissing and darting off into the tall grass as the wolf and the moon rolled in the grass.
"Hey guys! The Noti are hungry and I think I set your kitchen on fire!" Ezra called, squinting at the plume of smoke from the upstairs door wafting into the night sky.
"Little brothers," Sabine shook her head as she came to a stop, pinned into the dirt by a near-smiling wolf.
"Jedi," Shin agreed, rolling their weight off and offering a hand up to the purple-haired woman; Force, Manda, whatever it was, both would be rich with the songs and the stories of Ezra Bridger, the Jedi who ignited a bowl of ice-cream, and the unlikely heroes who saved his precious tapestry.