Talia's eyes followed the massive being as it stood among the trees.
For a moment, she understood exactly how someone could mistake it for part of the forest. The bark, the branches, the roots woven into the landscape itself. If Syn hadn't pointed it out, she might have walked past it without realizing there was a mind behind those ancient eyes. The realization alone was fascinating.
Slowly, she lowered the hand that had instinctively started to reach toward it.
"I'll take your word for it."
A faint smile appeared.
"Besides, archaeologists tend to learn that touching ancient things without permission is how disasters begin."
Her gaze returned to the Momokyun.
The more she looked, the more questions appeared. Not just about the creature itself, but about what it represented. Entire civilizations had risen and fallen across the galaxy, attempting to preserve knowledge. Archives. Libraries. Datacrons. Holocrons. Records etched into stone and metal. Yet these beings carried memory in an entirely different way.
"They remember through each other," she said almost reverently, her attention drifting toward the surrounding forest. "A living archive."
The phrase lingered as she considered the implications. No written language. No books. No data storage. Just roots stretching across islands, carrying memories from one generation to the next. History was preserved not in objects, but in living minds.
For perhaps the first time since arriving on Ahch-To, Talia found herself staring at something that rivaled the ancient temples in importance.
"If that's true..." Her eyes shifted toward Syn. "Then these forests might contain records older than anything preserved by the Jedi." Excitement crept into her voice despite herself. "Not copies. Not interpretations. Actual memories."
Her gaze returned to the Momokyun, and after a moment's hesitation, she offered a respectful bow toward the ancient being. "I think I understand why finding them is considered a lesson," she said quietly, her eyes lingering on the ancient guardian. "Most people spend their lives looking at trees and never think to ask whether the forest is listening."
Syn