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F H O S T
SOMETIME AFTER EXEGOL
FARPOINT
MORNING
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"Of course I would love to."

A pleasant smile masked a vacant stare, the kind someone usually had when they were deep in thought, before her focus returned to the man talking to her. Two decades of absolute solitude did that to you - robbed you of the understanding that there was such a thing as too self-aware. Reflection, in fact, was something most normal people did when they weren't out and about but was also something that Amara couldn't help but catch herself slipping into mid-conversation whenever she heard herself say something that she didn't agree with internally. In fact she very much did not want anything else to do with him, this rather muted shade of green Trandoshan, but out of everyone she'd met after arriving on Fhost he had been the only one that had bothered to give her the time of day.

And the only one that had offered to pay for food and drink, which she most certainly could not afford on her own.

Learning that she had needed exercise to actually do anything for more than a few moments had been difficult enough, but if she was being honest the whole learning to talk and then on top of that learning what to do and not to do with other people was much more difficult. She still caught herself having trouble pronouncing words she hadn't practiced enough, mixing up words that sounded like they should mean the same thing but really didn't, and in regards to actual manners and behavior she just found it easier to agree to anything that didn't sound grossly unpleasant. Not because she didn't understand what they wanted, that had been much easier to understand than the actual words people used to convey it, but because it seemed rather difficult to keep other people in her company unless she gave them something else in return - or, at least, it was much easier to find herself alone on a strange planet than it was not to be.


"What is, uh, Narsh like, anyway? Anything like this.. desert..?" She asked.

There was an awkward break in conversation again, this time because the Trandoshan returned her question with a puzzled look. "Uh, bit more duracrete and a whole lot less sand, I guess." She nodded quickly, trying not to look like she had no idea how to picture that in her head given the places she had been to since leaving Metalorn just over a week back, and followed him as he led her away from the cantina and towards the ship he had offered her a ride on. They passed by a group that were entering as they were exiting wearing plastoid armor, or something just as flimsy and reflective, and she noticed a brief weight on her shoulder - his hand - until several moments after they'd created quite a bit of distance. She stepped a bit closer, uncertain if it was because she wasn't keeping up, and his hand dropped back to his side. She wondered if he'd be able to help her get something nicer to wear on wherever "Narsh" was.

He, on the other hand, wondered if she realized he meant Nar Shaddaa when he mentioned Narsh.