Worst Jedi
For a weapon that had no actual blade, a light saber always seemed to have a heavy weight that seemed to pull at Asaraa's arms each time she flicked the switch to bring her saber to life. The Padawan new that it was all psychological, a weight in her mind more than any physical presence. It was a measure of what it meant, the blade was always something she'd been skilled with, but recently she'd found herself questioning that skill. Knowing her Kata's was one thing but using them in the real world, she'd found, was something else entirely.
Still, the young woman paused, her blade held by both hands above her head, angled down in a high guard, there were worst ways to spend a morning. She held the pose, eyes closed as she felt the wind playing across her lekku, tugging at her clothes as the sun fell down on the red skin of her arms. The Togruta held the pose for a moment, a statue-like figure perched on the tips of her toes as she pushed her sense out into the temple. She'd messaged the other Padawans, inviting any of them who wanted to join her, it was just a matter of seeing who would turn up.
Still, the young woman paused, her blade held by both hands above her head, angled down in a high guard, there were worst ways to spend a morning. She held the pose, eyes closed as she felt the wind playing across her lekku, tugging at her clothes as the sun fell down on the red skin of her arms. The Togruta held the pose for a moment, a statue-like figure perched on the tips of her toes as she pushed her sense out into the temple. She'd messaged the other Padawans, inviting any of them who wanted to join her, it was just a matter of seeing who would turn up.