Outskirts of Kafez
He thought it so certain, so plain to him that he was to succumb to the heat, to the unrelenting sun that he had never seen. He thought it fitting, to die a free man in a foreign land. A poetic, poignant end to his life. He thought for certain, that it would be so. He had accepted it into his heart, to fade into the ether, the long dark.
But Lady Death had not graced him with her kiss, her touch. Life clung to him like a disease, like a virus running through his veins.
It was not by his volition that he was alive. It was by the and of a distant, blurry figure. Bright blue eyes searched the room around him. Soft cloth lay under his bare chest. He heard the movement of water. He weakly touched his chest. Someone had wiped the blood from his chest. He had suffered a wound- after all. A small gash along his pectoral muscle.
An addition to the collection of scars he possessed.
Weary eyes fell upon his savior. The tanned woman, @Alm. He reached up towards her, but find her out of reach. She must've been farther away in the room than he thought. He knew only a few words in basic, enough to communicate with the handlers in the Red Tower. Bocce and Huttese were the go-to-languages he was selected to know, but he knew enough to ask for simple things.
If only he knew how to be more polite. He tried to rise to a sitting position on his makeshift bed, but found it too blurry, too arduous.