Relationship Status: It's Complicated
S U R V I V E

LOCATION: Stewjon - Lechner Home
WEARING: xxx
TAG:

Gerwald’s intent had never been to see Palm abandon the Soll’nav, but to question what they had taught her. She had used their teachings to create obstacles that a force user was never meant to know. While he saw value in their emphasis on being as strong as one could be, Gerwald could not condone the fact they restricted the use of the force in certain ways. It was a tool, a weapon, like anything else one could place in their hands. It was neither good nor evil, but could be used for either.
In asking Gerwald to be her teacher, Palm was choosing to turn her back on the Soll’nav. He only hoped that her trust in him was not misplaced. A truth Gerwald would never admit was that she trusted him far more than he trusted himself.
He nodded as she spoke her truth. She did owe her former order, but it was time to seek the truth they had not taught her. Balance was a hard thing to find, and Palm would learn that. Many leaned one way or another to find it, even Gerwald had his moments when the dark side of the force threatened to overtake him. The wolf had never been a man of peace, but always one of passion. Control had been something he learned, but it had not come naturally. It was the one reason he hesitated with Palm now. It was what kept his tongue still with Naedira. Gerwald no longer let his passions drive him, but rather he directed them where he willed.
The lupine searched her eyes for any sign of regret or remorse and found none. Her decision came with a dedication to the future, and to what must be. Palm would not find what she needed in the teachings of the Soll’nav, and as Gerwald had done on the day they had met, he would do his best to guide her toward what the Knights believed.
"A Knight Obsidian, then," Gerwald answered. There were other questions to ask, details to arrange, but they could wait. For now the path before her was set.
His stomach growled something fierce when she admitted her defeat. Their spar had carried them past the noon meal and well into the afternoon sun. Gerwald let the weapons lay where they had been dropped. The two would not have any more need for them.
The meal had been like anything Gerwald could expect on Stewjon. Hearty meats and vegetables filled his plate and sated the appetite their day of training had built up. His manners were not those of a Lord Commander, but rather of a ravenous wolf starved of food. There was not much difference between that and how most warriors on Stewjon tackled a plate of food after a long day of training. For a moment he paused, considering what Palm must think of the mead which dripped down his beard. He was a mess certainly, but he had been desperate to wash his meal down with actual mead, not the counterfeit which made its way around the Confederacy.
When the meal ended, Gerwald did not leave her to clean up the mess alone. Though after a time he did leave to wash himself. His clothes were dirty and drenched in sweat from the hard work they had engaged in for the best part of the day. It had not taken him long, and he returned in time to catch the smile and spark as Palm asked her question.
Gerwald was tired, but the wolf was not. Something primal stirred within him at the suggestion, and without a single word the lupine started toward the door. His clothes would be left as a trail in the direction he had walked. A few seconds was all that it would take for the man to become a beast. Palm would find the gray wolf sitting on his hind quarters, tail wagging, as he waited for her to make her way outside.
It was not the Gerwald she was used to, or the one she knew, but the same eyes she was familiar with would be staring back at her as she came into view. A loud bark was the only warning she would be given before the wolf bound off toward the treeline at the edge of his property.
In asking Gerwald to be her teacher, Palm was choosing to turn her back on the Soll’nav. He only hoped that her trust in him was not misplaced. A truth Gerwald would never admit was that she trusted him far more than he trusted himself.
He nodded as she spoke her truth. She did owe her former order, but it was time to seek the truth they had not taught her. Balance was a hard thing to find, and Palm would learn that. Many leaned one way or another to find it, even Gerwald had his moments when the dark side of the force threatened to overtake him. The wolf had never been a man of peace, but always one of passion. Control had been something he learned, but it had not come naturally. It was the one reason he hesitated with Palm now. It was what kept his tongue still with Naedira. Gerwald no longer let his passions drive him, but rather he directed them where he willed.
The lupine searched her eyes for any sign of regret or remorse and found none. Her decision came with a dedication to the future, and to what must be. Palm would not find what she needed in the teachings of the Soll’nav, and as Gerwald had done on the day they had met, he would do his best to guide her toward what the Knights believed.
"A Knight Obsidian, then," Gerwald answered. There were other questions to ask, details to arrange, but they could wait. For now the path before her was set.
His stomach growled something fierce when she admitted her defeat. Their spar had carried them past the noon meal and well into the afternoon sun. Gerwald let the weapons lay where they had been dropped. The two would not have any more need for them.

The meal had been like anything Gerwald could expect on Stewjon. Hearty meats and vegetables filled his plate and sated the appetite their day of training had built up. His manners were not those of a Lord Commander, but rather of a ravenous wolf starved of food. There was not much difference between that and how most warriors on Stewjon tackled a plate of food after a long day of training. For a moment he paused, considering what Palm must think of the mead which dripped down his beard. He was a mess certainly, but he had been desperate to wash his meal down with actual mead, not the counterfeit which made its way around the Confederacy.
When the meal ended, Gerwald did not leave her to clean up the mess alone. Though after a time he did leave to wash himself. His clothes were dirty and drenched in sweat from the hard work they had engaged in for the best part of the day. It had not taken him long, and he returned in time to catch the smile and spark as Palm asked her question.
Gerwald was tired, but the wolf was not. Something primal stirred within him at the suggestion, and without a single word the lupine started toward the door. His clothes would be left as a trail in the direction he had walked. A few seconds was all that it would take for the man to become a beast. Palm would find the gray wolf sitting on his hind quarters, tail wagging, as he waited for her to make her way outside.
It was not the Gerwald she was used to, or the one she knew, but the same eyes she was familiar with would be staring back at her as she came into view. A loud bark was the only warning she would be given before the wolf bound off toward the treeline at the edge of his property.