Six years had passed since the Togruta had returned the lonesome blade back to the Jedi. Many of the following years were spent discovering that there was far more to this galaxy than one could even imagine. It was overbearing for one who was kept confined to her former tribe’s region on her home planet. Much too often was it that she thought back to simpler times of the hunt-- outsmarting animals in their habitat. Now she was to face the dangers of the galaxy? It was an undertaking that she had trained for under Aurik, a Jedi Master: Formally, as of recently.
In this temple, many have walked the very path she treads. Is it with caution or calculation? Are they synonymous? Synonymous. A new word. One of many that the Togruta had to familiarize herself with. There was simply so much she had not known, things unclear and knowledge to be harvested. A studious one when not putting what she has read into practice in the many training halls.
The walls fluttered night and day, cascading their shifting light into the archives. It was not until they settled upon the humble dusk that the Togruta would be found still seated at that table. A table now barren with the many who had been taken along with their masters. Across the table was a curved overhang about 4 inches up, shining a pleasant glow down to the many pages scattered about. Several books were stacked upon each other to look as though it were a small home.
L’yoom sat leaning back with her feet upon the seat edge, knees up to hold a scroll before her. A brown pancho was wrapped around her shoulders. The scrolls title was Makashi, displaying images of stances and best practices for the techniques. Her eyes fluttered, feeling the presence of another.. Quickly, she reached forward to the table and hid some half chewed journal paper under one of the books. It was not a presence she’d sensed before, though there were still many that she did not know, having spent more time training than socializing. It just was not something that suited her reserved nature.
“I will finish up here.. It grows late, I unders--.” She turned, grey eyes gazing up toward the scarlet woman. She was surprised to see such a prominent tone of color. She relaxed, knowing now who was here with her.
At the greeting, she instinctively raised a hand, though instead-- her middle finger would press to hers before moving the hand up and down. The others Padawans had solidified the behavior in her time here, as she was not truly accustomed to all the formalities.
“Rip-ley.” She said, mostly to herself to feel the name out for herself. “I am called L’yoom Ka… I have actually completed much of my studies. I have been returning my attention to the ways of traditional Jedi combat. . . It is fascinating.” Her eyes trailed back to the scroll to roll it back, seeing as she had reached the conclusion.
“You have been on constant leave as well?” L’yoom asked, tilting her head up to her as she placed the scroll neatly on the desk before her. She remained in her rather bundled up pose, actually quite comfortable where she was. “My Master was. . . and . . . They have served the Jedi well. I hope to honor him with a duty of my own. I am indebted.” She smiled to Ripley, reaching out to pull a chair from beside her, if she so needed. L'yoom would be lying if she wasn't curious about what goes on out there. It was not often she was taken beyond the temple, keeping to her studies as instructed.
L'yoom Ka
