Summary: Hatari; despite the elements, they survived.
Balance
Hatari was beyond a desert that dealt death, and so its populace had learned how to cope with the dry, punishing heat and the scarcity of water. Hatari had few gardens, and all of them were devoted to growing food. The fountains were nonexistent, replaced by pumps so that no water was ever wasted. The buildings were the yellow-red of sandstone, and the windows were many and large, with canvas covers and doors.
The days were long and hot, and the nights were short and chill. There was beauty there, to be sure, and there was time to appreciate it, but most time was devoted to survival.
Laguz, Beorc, and Branded were all hardy, and not much given to daydreams. They were practical and innovative, fixing problems with a minimum of fuss. Most of them could fight, for there were bandits and Outcasts, but few were warriors by profession. Everyone had a specialty, and they all worked together to make their small homeland live. And if they didn't thrive in the harsh landscape, at least they were not always on the verge of extinction.
All who lived in Hatari were aware of the price that they paid to the desert that both fought them and sustained them. It was a careful balance, but they made sure to be respectful of their greatest foe. It was a delicate existence, and the smallest decision could tip the scale one way or the other. But the rulers of Hatari led their people through the difficult times and the easier times, respecting the desert and protecting the citizens of Hatari.
It wasn't always much, but it was what they had. It was home.