White Dragon
Taiden being late was unheard of, so he was but a fraction of a step late when he appeared by her side. “Yes Master,” he said nearby to her side, perhaps to make her jump, or a sign of Echani humour, you never could tell by his face. Taiden did however step back to fully bow, as usual he was in degrees of white with just small amounts of silver showing, a battle tunic engraved with a silver Keth dragon. The padawan pulled his hood down, and stood a few paces in front of her, his long silver hair hanging free down to his collarbone shining in the sunshine.
The Echani was feeling content, a sense of pride again and it was in no small part thanks to Nima. Though he betrayed no emotion in his face, his stance was accepting, warm and even friendly. He had not felt accepted and proud of himself in a long time, but today he did, because today he'd be able to train in the traditional ways and it wouldn't be wasted like last time.
“I hope I can live up to what I owe you, to bring honor to your family and you.” There was still that doubt, still that sense of not being complete or fully a Jedi, his perfected ideal of what a Jedi should be, as perfect was an idea that was ever-changing, and impossible.
Readying his sword into a high guard, still not allowing himself to use a lightsaber, a self-imposed punishment for his time as a crystal cutter for that darker order, he was ready to begin.
[member="Nima Tann"]
The Echani was feeling content, a sense of pride again and it was in no small part thanks to Nima. Though he betrayed no emotion in his face, his stance was accepting, warm and even friendly. He had not felt accepted and proud of himself in a long time, but today he did, because today he'd be able to train in the traditional ways and it wouldn't be wasted like last time.
“I hope I can live up to what I owe you, to bring honor to your family and you.” There was still that doubt, still that sense of not being complete or fully a Jedi, his perfected ideal of what a Jedi should be, as perfect was an idea that was ever-changing, and impossible.
Readying his sword into a high guard, still not allowing himself to use a lightsaber, a self-imposed punishment for his time as a crystal cutter for that darker order, he was ready to begin.
[member="Nima Tann"]