[ She looks him over discerningly, head to foot — he's wearing an impressive array of armor, the likes of which she's never seen, not even by First Order troops, and he offers her a hand but she's undoubtedly more intrigued by his other one. Her eyes alight on the metal of his opposite arm, dark eyes roving over it with interest before they flick back to his proffered hand.
Which she does not take in hers. She tightens her grip on her quarterstaff instead, face drawing down into something tightly walled off. Sorry, Shiro, she has a thing about holding hands with strangers, no matter the circumstances; as if in consolation, she gives him a little half-nod instead. ]
I'm Rey. You — [ and then it occurs to her where she's seen similar armor, to his. ]
— you're one of the recent arrivals as well, aren't you. [ Hatchlings, she recalls the young woman Carata mentioning. She thought it an odd enough description, as though they were being born and cozied in a nursery of sorts like little fynocks. ]
no subject
Which she does not take in hers. She tightens her grip on her quarterstaff instead, face drawing down into something tightly walled off. Sorry, Shiro, she has a thing about holding hands with strangers, no matter the circumstances; as if in consolation, she gives him a little half-nod instead. ]
I'm Rey. You — [ and then it occurs to her where she's seen similar armor, to his. ]
— you're one of the recent arrivals as well, aren't you. [ Hatchlings, she recalls the young woman Carata mentioning. She thought it an odd enough description, as though they were being born and cozied in a nursery of sorts like little fynocks. ]