[ He's off in an instant, unwilling to allow the moment to linger for longer than it must, and Rey feels all the more a child in how she has to stretch her legs into a near run to catch up with him. The square of his shoulders and the heavy stomp of his movements makes him look all the part the monster he'd been to her from the start, but it still catches her off guard when the wind seems to whisper to her.
You can finish it now. You were too weak before. Startled and frightened by the sudden sound, she whips briefly around, listening at the edges of the forest for a noise that won't come. She never stops following him, even backwards, stumbling across roots. Even if the voice is not, the distraction is real, and it takes her a moment to place it as the same dark whisper she'd heard in Ren's mind, as if the journey there had further opened up an avenue for it to funnel in.
Hurriedly stuffing the hilt of the saber into the pouch at her belt as a deliberate refusal of the coaxing whisper, she scrambles to his side, listening intently not in further urgency to follow his command, but to understand his reasoning to be here at all as much as to shut out whatever else she might here.
She missed the middle. Something about what she could leave behind, something that makes her wonder what he has regretted leaving behind. That's not what she gets from him, of course. No satisfying answers, at least, but by now she knows that would expect too much of him.
The hiss of the wind as it whips around them criticizes her for expecting as much, buffeting her dirty face, but it still isn't as bad as the dust storms of Jakku that threatened to lift her off her feet and carry her away into the outskirts of the desert wasteland. She wonders, faintly, if she will ever stop comparing the landscapes of other planets to Jakku, if it will stop being her measuring stick once the green becomes more natural to her, but as soon as she wonders at all, she doubts it. Good or bad, it was her home for too long.
The urge to accuse him of slipping under the pressure of fear starts suddenly in the back of her throat, but she stops herself for the uselessness of it. Telling him that he was afraid of Luke Skywalker wouldn't help anyone's case, and though shoving it in Kylo Ren's face sounds quite pleasant, there's too much at stake here.
As soon as her mouth is open to refute his presumption of Luke—admittedly, it's a good thing the words never made it out, because even she didn't believe her reassurance. Luke had no reason to trust him, and she wouldn't blame him for being slow to.—there's a hand at her elbow pushing her along, but also sparking indignation that wells in her chest until it comes out as a shout. ]
Watch it! [ She growls the words, ready to yank her arm free, or at least attempt it. ] I can walk just fine without you dragging me along, thank you. I got all the way out here.
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You can finish it now. You were too weak before. Startled and frightened by the sudden sound, she whips briefly around, listening at the edges of the forest for a noise that won't come. She never stops following him, even backwards, stumbling across roots. Even if the voice is not, the distraction is real, and it takes her a moment to place it as the same dark whisper she'd heard in Ren's mind, as if the journey there had further opened up an avenue for it to funnel in.
Hurriedly stuffing the hilt of the saber into the pouch at her belt as a deliberate refusal of the coaxing whisper, she scrambles to his side, listening intently not in further urgency to follow his command, but to understand his reasoning to be here at all as much as to shut out whatever else she might here.
She missed the middle. Something about what she could leave behind, something that makes her wonder what he has regretted leaving behind. That's not what she gets from him, of course. No satisfying answers, at least, but by now she knows that would expect too much of him.
The hiss of the wind as it whips around them criticizes her for expecting as much, buffeting her dirty face, but it still isn't as bad as the dust storms of Jakku that threatened to lift her off her feet and carry her away into the outskirts of the desert wasteland. She wonders, faintly, if she will ever stop comparing the landscapes of other planets to Jakku, if it will stop being her measuring stick once the green becomes more natural to her, but as soon as she wonders at all, she doubts it. Good or bad, it was her home for too long.
The urge to accuse him of slipping under the pressure of fear starts suddenly in the back of her throat, but she stops herself for the uselessness of it. Telling him that he was afraid of Luke Skywalker wouldn't help anyone's case, and though shoving it in Kylo Ren's face sounds quite pleasant, there's too much at stake here.
As soon as her mouth is open to refute his presumption of Luke—admittedly, it's a good thing the words never made it out, because even she didn't believe her reassurance. Luke had no reason to trust him, and she wouldn't blame him for being slow to.—there's a hand at her elbow pushing her along, but also sparking indignation that wells in her chest until it comes out as a shout. ]
Watch it! [ She growls the words, ready to yank her arm free, or at least attempt it. ] I can walk just fine without you dragging me along, thank you. I got all the way out here.