Tamara Wren
Character
'The Spirit of Fire'
Echoy'la
'The Spirit of Fire' had been where [member="Ronan Vizsla"], Tamara Wren, and the many of those who had gone with the rogue Mandalorians had called home since their exodus from Wayland. Part of the Ne'tra Fleet, it was the largest of the ships, the one dearest (if one could be called that) to the Vizsla Clan's A'lor. They called it home now.
For Tamara, it would never be home.
It was hard to decide if it was because it wasn't Wayland, or if it was because everything since her death had seemed lack luster and faded. Since her return by [member="Darth Carnifex"] after the Red Coronation, the previously vibrant and passionate young woman had been dull and withdrawn. She focused on her duty- to her father, to her clan, finding what solace she could in doing things that were at the very least of use. She found no joy in things that had once offered them so easily. Even with her father's help, her memories of her life before were scattered, pockmarked. She knew she had lost far more than she had remembered, but without things around her to remind her of the missing, missing they remained.
Perhaps it would have been different, if they had stayed on Wayland. Surrounded by green and living things, by people full of life and love.
It was impossible to say. Because the reality was that they were not.
Instead Tamara walked cold, grey halls. Too easy to be solitary for the majority of her time. The rest of it? Eating, training- raiding, sometimes killing. At the side of one Ronan Vizsla. He loved his daughter, but that was not, this time, enough.
Tamara had gone off ship for a few days. She had come back while her father was away on business and that was probably just as well. There was something in her step. A smile on her face that she would push off, but would perk up again when she wasn't paying attention. And she wasn't paying attention an awful lot.
She hemmed. And hawed. And thought. And hesitated. Started down the hall. Stopped again. Rinse and repeat for half an afternoon before the knock sounded, a little hesitantly, on [member="Irella Vizsla"]'s door.