Edaline’s words seemed to somewhat soothe Skywalker’s racing thoughts and anxiety. She was right, he knew. Yet part of him didn’t feel able or permitted to give up this solitary life, this lonely way of existing. He had always thought of it as penance for surviving what his mother and siblings, all much better warriors than him, hadn’t managed to. For not being there that final day Rue went wandering. For never getting along with his mother and brother, though he had loved them.
His head dipped, wings relaxing. “I fear I don’t . . . know how to,” he admitted softly. “I - I’ve only been on my own for years, I’m not used to . . . anyone else.” The wind rustled branches above them.

“Lord is there anyone?”