Hera Syndulla (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
for_everyone) wrote2018-06-06 10:33 pm
for_everyone) wrote2018-06-06 10:33 pm
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It's a beautiful, clear night. Full moon and cool air, and Ghost was already well-rested and fed. Hera was sure they could fly on straight to Mandalore. The problem was that even if Ghost had had her fill, Kanan and Hera hadn't. As much as she might want to, Hera's not so sure she could last the whole night. She'll definitely need to eat first.
Fortunately for them, the forests outside Taris make for good cover for Ghost, who nestles up along the treetops, the points of the scales along her back hardly distinguishable from the reaching branches. Chopper opted to also rest, while Hera and Kanan had climbed down the trees, dropping down to the forest bed and making their way to the tavern on the nearby road. It's a loud night, but it means the bucketheads have no interest in making more work for themselves as they enter, and no one pays them much mind as they take a seat at a table in the corner.
Two candles burn low at the center of the table. Hera leaves to collect drinks and food from the other side of the room, while Kanan settles low in his chair, watching the commotion of the tavern from over the candlelight. There's a Rodian band, playing mostly high-pitched stringed and rumbling percussive instruments, but they're hard to hear over noise of chatter and various beings betting over games of pazaak and dejarik.
It's a mixed crowd, but that's not surprising, so close to the rifts that rattled through Taris.
Fortunately for them, the forests outside Taris make for good cover for Ghost, who nestles up along the treetops, the points of the scales along her back hardly distinguishable from the reaching branches. Chopper opted to also rest, while Hera and Kanan had climbed down the trees, dropping down to the forest bed and making their way to the tavern on the nearby road. It's a loud night, but it means the bucketheads have no interest in making more work for themselves as they enter, and no one pays them much mind as they take a seat at a table in the corner.
Two candles burn low at the center of the table. Hera leaves to collect drinks and food from the other side of the room, while Kanan settles low in his chair, watching the commotion of the tavern from over the candlelight. There's a Rodian band, playing mostly high-pitched stringed and rumbling percussive instruments, but they're hard to hear over noise of chatter and various beings betting over games of pazaak and dejarik.
It's a mixed crowd, but that's not surprising, so close to the rifts that rattled through Taris.