[ A scowl answers him—he'd been the one to suggest a warrior's funeral of any kind—but it's less vicious than the looks she had fixed him with previously, and as such, manages to look almost good-natured in comparison despite the way her teeth clench and set like a strill's. The desert left her feral, and every inch of progress she makes in the opposite direction only proves to throw into starker relief how savage she still is.
Any distaste falls away when he pushes forward to the practical, something Rey can easily throw her support behind in full force, and she does so ignoring the gesture he makes to her injuries. She's dragged more weight with worse to account for. In fact, it had never occurred to her that he might aid her efforts; rather, she felt the need to get him on board with the plan, imagining a dozen ways he might combust if she were to simply begin dragging the corpse of his old ally away, but never considered his participation.
She grabs onto his hand and pulls herself to her feet with it, wary to avoid lending too much of her weight to him for she knows not to take his swelling bravado as a sign of what he can actually juggle on that leg. ]
Whatever's left. [ She corrects herself, turning her attention down at the smoldering pile of blackened flesh that has tightened around the bones below. For a brief moment, she misses the loose fabric that she used to wrap around her head as a hood and mask, wishing something could blot out the smell of burning flesh and hair, but the life of a scavenger is far behind her, even if the skills and urges are not too far to be recalled. ] Do what you can to put the flames out.
[ His command of the Force, while perhaps less innately powerful, is better refined, and she imagines that it will make the task simple; meanwhile, she heads for the administrative building with stiff but resolute steps where she lifts the hilt of her lightsaber for a moment. She thinks better of leaving such obvious burn scars in the building, though, and instead sets about prying the hinges loose and rattling the flimsy metal door free. ]
no subject
Any distaste falls away when he pushes forward to the practical, something Rey can easily throw her support behind in full force, and she does so ignoring the gesture he makes to her injuries. She's dragged more weight with worse to account for. In fact, it had never occurred to her that he might aid her efforts; rather, she felt the need to get him on board with the plan, imagining a dozen ways he might combust if she were to simply begin dragging the corpse of his old ally away, but never considered his participation.
She grabs onto his hand and pulls herself to her feet with it, wary to avoid lending too much of her weight to him for she knows not to take his swelling bravado as a sign of what he can actually juggle on that leg. ]
Whatever's left. [ She corrects herself, turning her attention down at the smoldering pile of blackened flesh that has tightened around the bones below. For a brief moment, she misses the loose fabric that she used to wrap around her head as a hood and mask, wishing something could blot out the smell of burning flesh and hair, but the life of a scavenger is far behind her, even if the skills and urges are not too far to be recalled. ] Do what you can to put the flames out.
[ His command of the Force, while perhaps less innately powerful, is better refined, and she imagines that it will make the task simple; meanwhile, she heads for the administrative building with stiff but resolute steps where she lifts the hilt of her lightsaber for a moment. She thinks better of leaving such obvious burn scars in the building, though, and instead sets about prying the hinges loose and rattling the flimsy metal door free. ]