Private Running Toward Purpose

[Ra'a'mah]

Naboo's late-afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of flowering trees, scattering soft pink light across the garden paths. Families drifted by in small clusters, their quiet laughter blending with the gentle rush of fountains. It was a serene place—uncomplicated, unburdened.

Ra walked its edge in thoughtful silence, hands loosely folded behind her back. She preferred motion when she needed clarity; stillness held its own challenges. Even so, she kept her awareness open—people's movements, the subtle shifts of presence, the currents of intent around her. Old instincts, never fully dormant.

She felt the disturbance a heartbeat before it reached her—fast steps, uneven breath, attention turned inward rather than forward.

Then the collision.

A shoulder struck hers with enough force to break the rhythm of her stride. Ra absorbed it with practiced ease, feet adjusting, body settling back into balance before most would have registered the impact.

The young man who had hit her stumbled a step back, eyes wide, posture braced for either rebuke or retaliation.

Ra'a'mah regarded him, head tilting the slightest degree.

"You are moving too quickly for a place meant for calm," she said evenly, voice quiet but carrying the full weight of her presence. "And not watching where you walk." There was no anger in her tone—only an assessment.

Her gaze narrowed just slightly as she looked him over. Youthful, but coiled. Distracted, but not lost. And something else beneath that—a storm without direction.

She drew a slow breath, letting the ambient noise of the garden settle around them before continuing. "You are hurt," Ra added—not meaning physically. "Or troubled. People do not run with their minds elsewhere unless something is pulling at them." A pause. Not an invitation. Not yet.

"Are you going to continue like that," she asked calmly, "or do you intend to stop long enough to understand what you are running from?" The question hung between them—neutral, precise, impossible to ignore. She didn't know his name. But the moment he struck her, she knew he was someone worth taking measure of.

Leos

 

[Leos]

Naboo
Tags: Ra'a'mah

Epo-1, YT-1760 small transport
​

"I'm not runnin' from nothin," Leos sighed, rubbing at his forehead. "Just on a walk... sorry for bein' a bother."

The Themian had slipped away from that Shar-eye-ah-whatsit Temple place and was trying to get some fresh air. He felt really out of place there, some real imposter syndrome. Everyone else seemed to have been with the Order for some time, some even growing up in it. It sure made him feel like an outsider more than he already did.

Naturally, Leos didn't have a strolling speed. People didn't walk like that back on Daiyu. He shuffled along quickly with his eyes down-turned, never once considering his surroundings. It was easier to forget other people could be in a place that felt so open, not stuffy like his home world. Of course, he was suffering the direct consequences of those actions, but that was besides the point. Leos glanced back up to see strangely orange eyes. They almost glowed, in a way. Strange.

"So... apology accepted, or am I about to get a lecture..." the boy muttered.

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah straightened from where she had steadied herself, smoothing the sleeve of her coat with a small, dismissive gesture. The boy looked ready to bolt or brace, and neither was necessary. Her gaze—golden, quiet, assessing—settled on him without the weight he clearly expected.

"Lecture?" she echoed, a faint curve touching one corner of her mouth. "I wouldn't dare. You're not my child."

There was no sting in the words, only a gentle truth delivered with the same ease as one might point out the weather. She brushed a leaf from her shoulder, then inclined her head slightly toward him—an acknowledgment, not a reprimand.

"And you're hardly a bother. Naboo parks tend to invite wandering thoughts…and wandering feet."

Her eyes flicked toward him again, sharper this time, but not unkind. "Though most people look where they're going. A habit you might consider developing, unless you plan to collide your way through the galaxy."

A pause. Not judgment—observation.

"You said you're not running from anything," she continued softly, "but you look very much like someone trying to breathe outside four walls that didn't fit."

Her tone remained light, almost conversational, giving him space to deny it… or not.

"If walking helps, walk. If talking helps,"—her brow lifted ever so slightly—"I am capable of listening."

Leos

 

[Leos]

Naboo
Tags: Ra'a'mah

Epo-1, YT-1760 small transport
​

"You said you're not running from anything," she continued softly, "but you look very much like someone trying to breathe outside four walls that didn't fit."

"Yeah, well... I'm not exactly used to all the open space," Leos sighed. "My senses just aren't working like they should yet, that's all."

And that was very much the truth. He was in an unfamiliar environment with a lot on his mind, and it felt so spacious. The young Themian had let his guard down a little too much. Then again, when would he have ever gotten the opportunity to even do that before?

"No offense, but where I come from you don't usually talk to strangers about all of your problems," he continued. "All that does is leave you vulnerable... y'know, it's not wise to just put blind faith in whoever you wander across..."

Then again, there was something to be said about the value of relaying worries to a neutral third party.

"What's your angle here?"

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah regarded the boy for a moment, not unkindly—simply seeing him. His defensiveness, the strain behind his eyes, the way his shoulders held tension even when he tried to sound dismissive.

She inclined her head slightly.

"No offense taken. Caution keeps most people alive far longer than trust does." Her voice held no judgment, only recognition of a truth she had lived many times over. "But for the record, I haven't asked you to tell me your problems." A faint, knowing breath slid through her tone—more wry than warm.

"You ran into me, not the other way around." She let that settle before continuing, eyes steady, posture composed in that way that made her seem unshakably grounded in any environment.

"You speak of blind faith as though it is something I would ever request." A slight shake of her head. "I do not deal in faith, blind or otherwise. I deal in observation. Intent. Choice." She stepped aside just enough to give him space—not pushing, merely offering room to breathe in a world he was not yet accustomed to.

"As for my angle…" Ra let a slight pause hang between them, her gaze sharpening just enough to make it clear she was evaluating him in return. "If a young man is so overwhelmed by a quiet walk that he nearly collides with a stranger, it tells me he is either running from something… or toward something." Her head tilted—not accusatory, but curious in that precise, measured way of hers. "I am simply wondering which."

No pressure. No demand. Just the subtle nudge of someone who had spent a lifetime reading the currents beneath the surface of others—and inviting him, if he chose, to define his own.

Leos

 

[Leos]

Naboo
Tags: Ra'a'mah

Epo-1, YT-1760 small transport
​

"Toward," Leos answered, very quickly at that. "It isn't here, in this place, but there's... something I need to do."

He was going to leave it at that, but Leos wanted to make it clear that he wasn't running from anything. He wasn't a coward, after all. The Themian was going to become a powerful Jedi, then face his problems head-on and ensure that his Father never hurt anyone ever again.

A soft exhale followed that moment of thought.

"Can't do it yet though," he shrugged. "I'm still weak..."

And he seemed to be picking up on the Force techniques he would need very slowly. Leos still wasn't sure why that was, but it was beginning to frustrate him.