She follows him, taking a seat in the soft soil next to him and setting down her own tray. She leans back against one of the rocks, again briefly letting her eyes flutter closed.

Hera takes a deep breath of cool air, just barely sweetened with sea salt. She can hear the soft lap of waves along the shore, feel vibrations along the rocks. A few worlds flicker through her mind - Pamarthe, Manaan, Coronet City on Corellia.

Perhaps she could rest, now. Yet she opens her eyes, blinks back to Kanan.

Maybe she means to reach toward the tea. But her hand moves closer to his.