ahch-to smells of grass and salt, the ocean an angry thing as it crashes against stone — it rained the night before, and rey has come to know that this is the pattern of the sea: death-like stillness before a storm, one that the inexperienced eye may take as a sign of fortune. she has also discovered that the ocean is not so different from sand — in jakku, the quiet days always managed to raise the hairs in her arm. it did not bring water — of course not, and still she stood on alert, and though it was not always a sandstorm, it was never anything good. but this does not matter now, no, it doesn’t — the ocean is an angry thing, turbulent and rough, but the rays of the sun peak through the clouds and the smell of grilled fish permeates the air alongside grass and salt.
˙ ⋆✮₊ ┊ ░ RE. LUKE SKYWALKER. . . . 〞 @dualsuns : ‛ nothing. you just remind me of someone. ’
it makes her pause in the way very little things do — rey’s body freezes in place, her hand mid motion as she rips out grass from the ground, feels the pull from her hand in the blade as it rips from the earth, and she falls silent. there’s a discomfort here that she can’t quite place, and rey averts her eyes. 〝 everyone keeps telling me that. 〞 she throws the grass away, places her hands on her knees. 〝 no one ever cares to explain, though. 〞