a message from @warbyrds: [ supportive ] sender kisses the top of receiver's head /arra hehe
the air smells of smoke and burned droids, and arra's hands sting from the cut of her saber and the too-many times she had to swing it. the sudden arrival of separatist forces on maridun has unsettled her adopted people — the lurmen assisted in the fight against the invaders, as did the three jedi, clone troopers, and pilot who recently crash-landed, as well, but from that battle and brutal response comes a sickening feeling deep inside arra's chest. a realization: she hates fighting. what kind of jedi does that make her? what kind of protector does that turn her into? when she's returned to coruscant, what will she become?
she sits with carol, the pilot, now, two resting figures atop a small hill of grass and dirt. out of the whole bunch of new arrivals to maridun, carol has been the kindest, the most understanding of them all. she's been easy to talk to, to whisper with, to bond over before the small separatist force arrived to cause harm. she's listened to arra when the other jedi haven't, when master secura or master skywalker ignored her cries for pacifism, for peace. carol, it seems, not truly burdened by the responsibilities of the jedi call, can find truth in arra's new purpose. she cares.
in the valley below, arra can see the jedi and clones speak to the lurmen people, to wag too, to tee watt kaa, to the friendly bunch of meter-tall colonists that have taken her in since her crash months before, and another pang of sheer pain burns her insides. she looks to carol beside her, face a complicated flurry of unidentifiable feelings. "we're all going back now, aren't we." the republic is sending ships. she's rescued. the lost jedi has been found. gone are the quiet days of roaming maridun alone, or alongside a handful of lurmen adventurers. back to battle. back to slicing battle droids and watching good men die. before carol even has a chance to respond, arra continues. "if i said this to master skywalker or master secura, they'd judge me, but... part of me wants to stay. is that odd?"
silence. arra almost worries that carol will, in fact, turn around and administer criticism, but then the silence turns to a quiet lean in the sun. lips on her hair, a kiss to the crown of her head. the dry grass beneath them crunches at the shift, and when carol leans back and smiles, arra is blinking. she's stunned. "you..." the jedi's cheeks are petal pink when she turns back to the valley ahead, a tiny smile poised upon her lips. that feels like reassurance. it feels like the words everything will be okay... but without the words. "carol?" her own pause. arra glances to the side. "thank you."
