Outfit: Clothing/Armor |
Glove |
Right Arm |
Talisman
Companion: Cinnamon
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 |
Lightsaber 2 |
Hook Swords
Azzie crouched down slowly, her boots crunching softly against the icy terrace stones, her breath visible in the cool Midvinter air. Cinnamon's claws clung to the folds of her robe as the racyon tightened her grip on Azzie's shoulder, chittering softly with her nose twitching and fur bristling.
“Not a threat, just… small and loud. Like you, sometimes.” She murmured, one hand gently rubbing the creature's head.
Cinnamon let out a tiny snort at that, but her body language eased. Just slightly. With careful movements, Azzie slid her arms underneath Cinnamon and lifted her down from her shoulder.
"If you can successfully beat some Sith, like I heard you did, then you can handle this easily." She set her gently in the snow near her feet, where Cinnamon immediately sat on her haunches, arms folded once again, nose still twitching but ears perked with curiosity rather than alarm.
Azzie turned her gaze toward the little girl—Theya, Nida had called her—and offered a small, warm smile. With one hand, she reached into the bag of blueberries and nuts at her belt and pulled out a few bright red berries from it. She rose and moved slowly, deliberately, toward the child, careful not to loom.
“For her,” she said gently, extending her hand with the berries.
“Cinnamon’s weird about things, but if you offer her some of these, then she might just change her tune."
Her tone was light, the smile on her face reaching her violet eyes for the first time publicly in a while, and her eyes studied Theya’s reaction closely. And Cinnamon’s, too, who had leaned forward just a bit, still watching warily but with clear interest now. Trust, after all, was a two-way street. Especially with racyons.
"Cinnamon is a Ukatis Racyon." She turned as Nida addressed her and dipped her head in acknowledgment.
“Azurine Varek, But everyone calls me Azzie.” A pause to cough and take a moment to rest her hands on her upper legs to catch her breath from the amount of energy it took to get her body to cooperate how she wanted it to. A glance at the girl, then back to the woman who was clearly her mother.
“No apologies needed. She’s just got a little spirit, is all. If you ask me, that's a good thing."
She meant it, too. Even as a child, Azzie herself had never quite fit the mold of quiet obedience. She’d run headlong into everything, loud and fearless. And maybe… maybe she saw a little of that spark in Theya. The kind that didn’t always follow rules but could change the world anyway. Her smile faltered for a moment in that thought, but she forced it back into place as she straightened herself to look between Nida and Connel.
"You're related to Master Thurion, then?"
Cinnamon finally made a small
chitter and crept forward a pace in the snow to sniff at the berries and the little hand she handed them too.
This galaxy could use more moments like this.