Storms In Africa... Writing and Graphics Comm

 

Din cradled him gently as he looked the baby over. Grogu's usually bright eyes were glazed over, and his tiny hands were hot to the touch. Din felt his heart sink as the realization that Grogu was sick sank in.

 

"Oh, kid, shhh," he said as soothingly as he knew how, "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

 

Din needed to return to piloting the ship, so he picked up the blanket from the pram, and wrapped the child up in it. He returned to his seat, and settled down into it with Grogu resting against his chest. The control of the ship hummed softly, but Din's attention was mainly on the tiny being still crying in his arms. In an effort to calm Grogu, to offer some measure of comfort, he started to stroke his head.

 

As the hours went on, Din was steadfast, and did not waver in caring for Grogu. He made a warm bone broth, and coaxed the baby to take some, in the hopes it would help Grogu feel a little better. Grogu fell asleep after he ate half of the bowl, and still Din continued to hold him.

 

Night came, and Grogu remained sick, Din continued to care for him. Grogu's rest was restless for most of the night, so he hummed a tune he supposed was a lullaby his mother sang to him once. The lullaby soothed the baby, and soon Grogu was finally asleep. Din took the opportunity to get some rest himself while keeping one ear open for any whimpers from the baby. But Grogu slept through the night, and the next morning, Din was awakened by a tiny hand banging on his helmet.

 

Din opened his eyes, and looked at the kid, "Hey, how are you feeling this morning, Grogu?"

 

Grogu babbled in response.

 

"Feeling better, huh?"

 

"Patu."

 

"I'll take that as a yes. I'm so glad you're better!" Din said, picking him up, "So how about some breakfast?"