Gilamar Skirata
The most important step is always the next one
It was early, much earlier than he was used to getting up. But he had to, not for himself, but for her.
The two were on Dxun, and had landed days away from the clan strong hold of the Williamia, their shuttle also days away now. They had reached the middle of their long journey through the treacherous jungle moon Dxun. He himself had made this journey when he was ten with his own father when he was under going survival training. Neither of them had armor, Gil holding the simple things like a couple of sporks, a pan and other utensils. These of course were for himself, after all, he wasn't the one going through survival training and the Mandalorian rations didn't need to be heated. He was surprised that Tali still had them after this long. When he had reached this point, he remembered some nights he went hungry because his traps didn't catch anything or the cannocks at whatever he caught.
Tali had been given a blaster pistol, she was still too small to use full sized rifles and too weak to use slugthrowers like the one he now held. That along with her knife, rations and whatever else she could fit into her pack were the only things given, the rest she would have to do on her own, Gil was just there to make sure she didn't die.
The moon still hung in the sky, and his warm breath formed clouds in the cold morning air. Sitting up in his bed roll he looked over to Tali, her small form rising and falling slowly under her bed roll. A faint smile inched its way across the grizzled man's face, but his smile was quickly washed away at the sound of leaves rustling. Nudging her and reaching for his own slugthrower he got up quickly. "Wake up Tali..." he whispered. "Time to go."
@[member="Tali Skirata"]
The two were on Dxun, and had landed days away from the clan strong hold of the Williamia, their shuttle also days away now. They had reached the middle of their long journey through the treacherous jungle moon Dxun. He himself had made this journey when he was ten with his own father when he was under going survival training. Neither of them had armor, Gil holding the simple things like a couple of sporks, a pan and other utensils. These of course were for himself, after all, he wasn't the one going through survival training and the Mandalorian rations didn't need to be heated. He was surprised that Tali still had them after this long. When he had reached this point, he remembered some nights he went hungry because his traps didn't catch anything or the cannocks at whatever he caught.
Tali had been given a blaster pistol, she was still too small to use full sized rifles and too weak to use slugthrowers like the one he now held. That along with her knife, rations and whatever else she could fit into her pack were the only things given, the rest she would have to do on her own, Gil was just there to make sure she didn't die.
The moon still hung in the sky, and his warm breath formed clouds in the cold morning air. Sitting up in his bed roll he looked over to Tali, her small form rising and falling slowly under her bed roll. A faint smile inched its way across the grizzled man's face, but his smile was quickly washed away at the sound of leaves rustling. Nudging her and reaching for his own slugthrower he got up quickly. "Wake up Tali..." he whispered. "Time to go."
@[member="Tali Skirata"]