Oh fluff! Cordial Introductions (Twysper)

Ekerin's russet tail twitched erratically with excitement as he followed his opponent’s moves with grinning blue eyes. The black speckles of fur under his eyes gave him the appearance of having his face flicked with paint. The rest of the class was a mere group of faded silhouettes in the background of the large training room, not immediately critical to the task at hand. He was ready to take on an entire army. He wanted to jump as high as he could and yell out loud. But that would be most unjedi-like, and so the Amaran turned his nervous, excited energy to the duel. Adrenaline buzzed in his veins as steadily as the brilliant green hued lightsaber that was gripped comfortably in his clawed hand.

As to the reason he was so excited and anxious? He had gotten the news only a little earlier. He had been chosen as a padawan! He finally had a master, her name was Sellah Bellae. She was a Selonian, and a guardian at that. The Amaran frowned slightly before stepping forward to preemptively parry the other youngling’s first overhead strike. He swept his blade low at the Bothan’s feet before rolling to the side in order to avoid another strong overhand strike by the aqua colored blade. His opponent was taking her time, not rushing, not slowing, just a perpetual motion, like lapping waves. Ekerin tapped into his supply of excited energy and went on the offensive, starting to flick quick, sharply angled slashes at the girl before proving that he was dictating the pace again, and switching to a stronger, more deliberate, two-handed stance.

It mildly concerned him that he had been assigned by the council, and not by the actual knight’s request. The slight source of anxiety for the youngling since he had been told; He wondered if it would have repercussion later.

Another clashing of ocean blue blade on forest green. The stalwart pillar of green broke the cresting blue wave of the ocean on an edge sharper than any razor, just enough to halt the flood of momentum. For a moment, there was a contest of strength between the ocean and the forest, and then the brilliant green seemed to give way before the water, before resiliently flicking back up to bat away the blue lightsaber. Ekerin made to press the attack as his opponent tried to recover, his claws tapping a staccato rhythm on the floor as he quickly narrowed the distance between them and slashed at her shoulder.

But he also supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. His thirteenth birthday had been looming on the horizon, and he sure as heck wasn’t leaving the Order to join the corps. He assured himself that the important part was that he had indeed been chosen by someone. He and Sellah were going to be good friends.

He fell back a pace as the other youngling blocked and her attack started to pick up momentum again, biding his time while his mind wandered absently and he started to defend on autopilot, relying on muscle memory to fend off the aqua blade. Ekerin had so many questions that he desired answers to. What was Sellah like? What styles of lightsaber combat did she use? Did she have a sense of humor?

Both pointed ears suddenly piqued as he heard someone knocking on the door, and he let out a thin tendril of the force to probe at the new presence as he tilted his head to focus. It was large, warm and comforting, and—His opponent took the opportunity to knock the still lightsaber out of his relaxed grip. Ekerin watched the green blade immediately hiss back into the hilt and roll away on the floor.

“Frell...” The Amaran muttered under his breath.

Ekerin’s new master strode into the room as he was giving the slightly smug bothan girl a rueful look. He eyed his fallen practice lightsaber with a similar measure of regret before turning to face the Selonian, one hand behind his back, focused on subtly levitating the lost blade back towards him. The Amaran proceeded to smile sincerely, before his face crinkled almost imperceptibly as the lifting lightsaber met with sudden resistance. With an unamused flattening of features, Ekerin realized what had happened.

The. Bothan. Was. Now. Stepping. On. His. Lightsaber.

With a slight sigh, Ekerin gave up trying to move it and shifted his hands to rest at his sides, holding no hope that the Selonian had missed what was going on. His blue eyes skimmed over Sellah quickly before making eye contact, noting her light tan fur, assorted jewelry, golden brown eyes, and dark bandoleer, speckled with bits and pieces of brilliantly-hued fragments. Her expression seemed to be relatively neutral, but that was part of the job, and one of the trademarks, of an experienced Jedi knight.

“Master Sellah? Ekerin Tavres.”

Sellah nodded at the Amaran's inquiry, though it was obvious her golden eyes and moist nose were busy putting two-and-two together. She caught Ekerin's rueful look, and the smug demeanor and footed lightsaber of the Bothan. Her muzzle crinkled it what one could guess resembled the Selonian version of a smile -- not that the species had much need for expressions of joy.

With a quick flick of her wrist, she'd tugged the saber from under the foot of the now-sheepish Bothan, and let it land soundly in her palm, turning it over a moment. She tossed it to the young Amaran, a knowing glint in her eye. For Ekerin's benefit, she gave the Bothan a stern glare, and the young girl scampered off. Sellah was quick to return her attention to Ekerin.

"You've deduced correctly, my Padawan." How odd it felt to say that. Now she was the master and he was the Padawan. Large shoes to fill, but Sellah found confidence in the will of the Force. "Gather your things, and we shall be off to your new quarters." Her voice was not happy, per-se, but rather... full of life. It was warm, and held many tones like a nighttime forest. It was clear that she was open in welcoming her Padawan.

Once Ekerin had his things together -- a very few, seeing as Jedi in general, and younglings especially, had very few belongings -- Sellah held the broad door for him and allowed the Amaran to emerge into the hall ahead of her. She came through the door after, and expecting him to follow suit, began to walk down the hall. Two sets of claws against the cold stone floor made a quiet symphony, and Sellah once again mused over the fact that there would be a great deal of empathy between the two -- both furred humanoids in a temple predominated by near-humans.

"I can tell you have very many questions," she said, looking down at Ekerin. "As my master always said, 'if you ask questions, you shall receive answers'. So if you are wanting answers, simply ask. I'll do my best to answer them." And something in the Selonian's tone implied that if Ekerin had asked a question that didn't have an answer, she would have found one for him, somehow. They turned a corner and the narrow hall spilled into a much larger one, the airy ceiling high above and supported by gracefully curved arches. Sunlight spilled in through the open walls, and some of the only clean breezes in Coruscant twittered by, ruffling the fur of master and padawan alike.

Ekerin's eyes caught the Selonian-smile as his lightsaber was returned, which as he noted, was mostly reflected in Sellah's gleaming eyes. He was thankful for the amiable tone of her voice, at the least it meant that his new master didn’t begrudge having to teach him. The Amaran had been mentally preparing for that worst case scenario. As he retrieved his sparse belongings, barely enough to occupy both clawed hands, and loped after Sellah, Ekerin cast a last gleeful look over his shoulder at the rest of his class. Without any fanfare, he had technically just graduated, and as far as the Amaran was concerned, this was where his life really started.

Then his master was giving him permission to ask questions of her, and he mused over what would be the most impressive question to ask first. But did he need to try and impress her? Seconds were ticking by; Ekerin’s muzzle creased in thought. Lightsaber forms would give hints as to Sellah’s personality, as would asking about her views of the Force. His tail flicked the air anxiously. His silence had just reached the point of becoming awkward when sunlight warmed his face, and accented the small black spots of fur speckling his face. He smiled as he basked in the sunlight.

“Do you have a sense of humor, master?” Ekerin asked suddenly. As much as the Amaran tried to repress it, he had acknowledged some time ago that he was occasionally a bit of a smart-aleck, and he looked up at Sellah to gauge her reaction to the off-kilter question attentively.

Sellah regarded the sky, pondering the question. Not much could catch the Selonian completely off-guard, but that particular question had come quite close. But Sellah, being who she was, could only give so much thought to things. Her answer, in fact, was more deeply telling than it appeared on the surface, despite being rendered with a tone of the utmost seriousness.

"Does a Narglatch bite?"

Perhaps there was a twinkle in one of those big, golden eyes... or maybe the Selonian had passed just right through a beam of sunlight. For a moment, the sounds in the air were few, naught but the din of the city and the shuffle of feet across the ground. Sellah tilted her head thoughtfully.

"What do you say we make this a game?" Just because Sellah was passionate, and had a habit of taking everything seriously, did not mean she refused to acknowledge the merits of a good game. "You ask me a question about myself, or some-such, and I shall ask you a question about yourself, or some-such, and at the end, whoever stumps the other first is the winner and..." Sellah stopped to think a moment, "... and gets to go through the line at the chow hall first." Upon receipt of Ekerin's consent, Sellah inquired, "My turn?" It was indeed.

"Alright, then..." Sellah's whiskers quivered as she pondered, selecting the most delectable of questions, as she would the brightest of crystals for her saber. "Which lightsaber form strikes you as your favorite?"

Ekerin scanned his master's face subtly out of the corner of his bright blue eyes, both sparking with ill-disguised amusement as he waited for an answer. However, the blue fire was slightly quenched by Sellah's tactful answer, before flaring back up again with rueful realization. He could appreciate that response.

Ekerin went on to nod acknowledgment as Sellah laid out the rules for their game, ears perked attentively as more warm sunlight streamed by the pair.

"Which lightsaber form strikes you as your favorite?"

Ekerin's first instinct was to say Trakata, but for all intensive purposes, he neither knew what it consisted of outside of a few moves seen by dueling knights, nor had he been taught about it along with the other seven orthodox forms. The only reason he even knew the name was because another observing Jedi had let the name slip into the air, where it had been captured by the Amaran's sharp hearing. After another moment's thought, Ekerin decided to settle on his more widely recognized favorite, Ataru. It was aggressive, not passive, and made good use of the force to supplement his natural agility.

"Ataru, the fourth form, master Sellah." Ekerin replied simply as he looked up at the Selonian again. He would not be caught trying to stretch his rudimentary knowledge of the form in the attempt to make himself look better.

"Ataru, the fourth form, master Sellah,” Ekerin answered.

Sellah considered this a moment, and her whiskers twitched with thought, as they always did when such things were transpiring in her brain. Then she looked down at Ekerin, with an expression quite enigmatic.

“It is a very challenging form to learn. One must push their body to the very limits. It is a decisive form, intended to make for quick duels, and concise endings. A saber is as much a help as a hindrance concerning the Ataru form.”

There was, perhaps, a wink in Sellah’s eye, for she was quoting directly from the Datapads Ekerin had no doubt studied, due to his interest in the form.

“But I think it will suit you well. As long as you are up for the Challenge. And if you are not, you soon will be.” Sellah nodded emphatically. “Ataru is my own favorite form, and together, you and I, we are going to make you an expert of Ataru.” There was an enlivened passion in Sellah’s voice that made it clear that she would never rest until her Padawan had reached the fullest potential of his ability. She had no idea where this burst of determination had come from, and so she could only conclude it was the Force’s emphatic endorsement of the new arrangement.

She looked closely at Ekerin’s big blue eyes, following the length of the hall with only her peripheral vision. “And now it is your turn.”

“Ataru is my own favorite form, and together, you and I, we are going to make you an expert of Ataru.”

A smug, content look settled on the padawan's face as Sellah spoke to him. Ekerin was eager to begin additional training for sure; to specialize outside of the blend of other younglings. Healing was another subject that had piqued his interest, and was on the Amaran's list of things to study further now that he was a padawan. Not that it particularly pertained to what he was about to ask. He enthusiastically set his mind to finding a more devious question for his master to try and answer. Something beyond a simple yes or no... He wanted to win.

"Hrum... If I am your first padawan," Ekerin continued to walk alongside Sellah, eyes and mind both wide open to his surroundings, tone slightly daring, but not accusatory. "why haven't you chosen one before?"

Ekerin felt a little bad about the blunt question almost as soon as he asked, but it was offset by how very much he wanted to know.

Sellah ran a swift tongue over the sharp curve of her fang, a gesture of thought.

"It is not unusual for a knight to wait longer than I to take on a padawan, nor is it unusual for a knight to never take on a Padawan at all. But..." She clapped her jaw together decisively, "I will answer your question." Sellah hesitated, but not out of reluctance, rather, she was having difficulty finding the words for what she was trying to say. The Selonian may have been a Jedi, but she was not a creature of eloquence, and voicing certain... ideas became tricky.

"It is something a bit difficult to explain, and that's why I think many of masters disagree vehemently with me. Every time I attempt to, they always think my struggle for words is because I am am making things up as I go along. But I would never disrespect the honor of the council in such a way." Sellah's hackles raised ever so slightly, making it clear that the lack of trust had hurt her quite deeply. However, her fur settled down again and she quickly moved on. "The times that I hear the Force... talk, yes, I think talk is the right word... those are the times where I'm moving on instinct. Where there isn't enough time to... time to think, not whole thoughts." She looked intensely at Ekerin, hoping he understood. "So I try to work on instinct whenever I can, because that is where I feel the Force. Sometimes, it fills me with... with passion for the thing I know is right." She cocked her head ever so slightly. "There is no better word for it. But Passion is forbidden by the Jedi Code. Sitting still, that sort of meditation just leaves me... lost." There was the slightest shade of exasperation to her tone, as if she wished for a moment that she could simply be teachable like the others. But that was not what the Force had called her to. "That is why many of the masters do not approve of me. They think my instinct is the dark side tempting me. There are others, though, who seem to understand. That is why I am still here. I think," she said, her muzzle furrowing in concentration, tongue forming around difficult words, "That the Force does not always work within the Jedi Code. I... I do not know how best to explain it. If the Force wills it, you will come to know in time." She nodded decisively, revealing her full faith in the statement. The Selonian drew silent for a long moment, until suddenly, she blinked, and her eyes refocused on Ekerin. "Oh! Your question. I am sorry, I am not used to speaking for so long." Her expression was as apologetic as it ever was, though that was not really saying much.

Sellah sighed. "I did not want to antagonize the Jedi any further, or make them think I was trying to train some sort of... Of..." Sellah looked around, golden flashes darting between posts as if the right word lurked behind them... "Insurgency. Or something. So you can understand I was quite shocked when the Council came to me. I suppose times are desperate." She looked down at Ekerin, and for the first time in several paragraphs, actually thought she had found the right words; "Even though I was not expecting you as a padawan..." Her thoughtful tongue circled another fang, "I am grateful. I think the Force willed this, in its own special way."

A moment was allowed for all thoughts to settle in, before Sellah heaved an exhausted sigh. "You have made me speak so much! I'm not sure who's being challenged here, you or me. You had better come up with a long answer next -- or at least ask easier questions. Now, Ekerin, If you had the choice between fighting with no weapons, or fighting with a blaster, which would you choose? And you have to tell me 'why', mind you, no squirming out of this one."

Ekerin nodded quickly as his master started to explain, eager to understand, and expecting a short answer. Something suitably, sagely, Jedi-y along the lines of, "The Force did not point one out to me earlier." or "None of the other padawans were fluffy enough."

The words he got instead... they required him to reign in all of his wayward attention and focus solely on the concepts Sellah was trying to explain to him. His tail, churning the air behind him like a propeller just moments ago, suddenly fell still. Fuzzy ears piqued and paws shifted as Ekerin was given a deeper look into the faceted pool of his master's personality, rippling with emotion and echoing with undisguised truth. For a fraction of a second, the Amaran was again disappointed with himself for absentmindedly flicking pebbles into that pool as soon as it was revealed, and his mouth tugged downwards in an imitation of a more human frown. Then Sellah had his undivided attention again. Already, he felt inclined to side with her against the council, and then checked himself with some effort. She was his new master, yes, but that didn't mean he necessarily had to adopt her own views without his own consideration. The council said things for a reason, didn't they?

The dark side of the Force. The essential boogy-man among the younglings, almost completely faceless, and therein able to take the form of so much more. Ekerin knew of the instinct that his Master referred too; that which fueled his abilities in unarmed combat training. When the next move was not made by himself cognitively, rather, almost preordained by a greater entity. It was easy to become overzealous while applying oneself on such a personal level, to allow the energy to just continue to flow long before realizing that one had deviated from their regimen some time ago. Ekerin had looked up apologetically at many attendants and droids after leaving multiple viciously long gashes in padded dummies with his claws, and remembered the sheepish moments vividly. But that was not the dark side, was it?

He would have much to think on later, and equally as much to inquire about…

Oh… Right… Sellah still hadn’t gotten to his initial question yet. It had been forgotten by the padawan soon after she had started talking. As the Selonian said the word insurgency, Ekerin felt a flush of cold, indignant adrenaline shoot through his veins. Him, a Dark Jedi? And what did his master mean by “times are desperate”? The Amaran bristled subconsciously at what was almost an insult, though it was not intended to be. Was he not good enough? No, that wasn’t it. Sellah probably hadn’t seen him during any of his lessons anyways, if she was not looking for a padawan as she said, she would have no real reason to be sifting through younglings and taking note of their performances. So the point was let go with a slight nod as they continued walking down the hallway, basking in the sunlight coming through the windows.

Ekerin expected a real doozy of a question from his master this time around, one on some theological aspect of the force that would probably leave him confused and muddled for days. So he was pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be a more hands-on question about his preferences. Though he had seen pictures of blasters, they were still a slightly distrustful item for him, not having used one in his lifetime; thus Sellah’s question had an answer to match very quickly.

“I’d prefer to fight without one, Master.” Ekerin replied confidently, and then continued at a slower pace, so as to disguise the fact that he was making most of this up as he went along. “Blasters are used by everyone, and are also generally hard to use; having both hands free would allow me a greater range of motion and freedom to fight in the style I’ve been training in. I’d prefer not being encumbered with technology I don’t know how to use.” Ekerin’s tail drifted behind him with a mind of its own, and he scratched the back of his head with clawed digits. “But, if I learned how to use a blaster, I don’t think I’d be adverse to it. Fighting at a distance certainly would have advantages, however disconnected it is.” Sharp claws pointedly tapped the hilt of the lightsaber clinging to his belt with a small grin. “Not that I intend to lose this in the first place.”

“Mrrrr, Sellah? Same question. To fight unarmed or with a blaster?” Ekerin inquired as his stomach murmured irritably at the lack of food.

Sellah nodded approvingly at Ekerin's answer. He was proving himself to be a thoughtful Padawan, and showed enough similarities to herself that they ought to get along well in the future. Sellah really wasn't the sort to over-think things, and Ekerin's response simply signaled to her that he was self-aware -- a valuable quality in a Jedi.

"I, also, prefer to fight without a blaster. One can make faster, smarter decisions about something that is part of themselves. I know a few who speak of their blaster as an extension of themself, but I have had no such experience."

Sellah paused for a moment to formulate another question, when her ear twitched at a familiar sort of sound -- the growling of a stomach. Conveniently, she wasn't going to have to scramble together her next question.

At long last, they had reached the end of the hall. It split off into a T, the proverbial intersection of destiny.

"Alright, Ekerin. This next question is extremely important." Sellah's tone echoed her words. "Would you rather visit your new chambers, or the cafeteria first?"

Ekerin beamed up at his master toothily, basking in her nod of approval. The Selonian didn't seem to be one to offer much more in the way of praise then this, surely he wouldn’t ever receive an active outburst of congratulation from her. And he was fine with that. He would content himself with that.

He’d just have to picture her hopping up and down with glee and grinning cheerfully.

Yeeeeeaaaah, that would work.

Bright blue eyes looked up at Sellah, and he had to bite his tongue before he started to crack up for no apparent reason as she spoke. Curse his imagination. Being deemed hysterical wouldn’t be good right now. All told though, things were going well; Sellah had proven amiable to the new arrangements, and the new padawan was relatively happy.

But his tummy wasn't.

It murrred audibly again, and he hoped Sellah hadn’t heard it. But she, with hearing on the level of his own, inclined her head towards him slightly, listening. Defensively, the padawan tucked an arm across his stomach.

"Alright, Ekerin. This next question is extremely important." His master’s serious tone crashed ominously around his head like an incoming tidal wave, and he held his breath in preparation. “Would you rather visit your new chambers, or the cafeteria first?"

The Amaran exhaled raggedly as the wave merely teasingly pushed him before flowing onward, and looked up at his master with slightly narrowed eyes. Sense of humor indeed. He never should have asked.

“Cafeteria please?”

Sellah nodded seriously, taking a right along the hall. "Cafeteria it is." The walk was still some ways, however, and so it made sense to keep going. Normally, the Selonian never would have kept a conversation going on this long, in her own power, but for practical reasons, it was best she knew as much as possible about her padawan from the beginning. After all, it could make the difference in combat, which they'd most likely face soon, seeing as Sellah was not exactly the sort to take diplomatic missions.

"Then it's your turn to ask a question. Unless, you would like to make 'please', your question, in which case, it is then my turn."

Electing to take a short-cut, Sellah then turned left again, passing through an arch in the thick temple wall, to emerge into a courtyard. The sun above shone with a golden light, despite the smog, illuminating the brown gravel that coated the ground. It crunched between her toes, the thick, leather pads of her feet unbothered by the rough stone. Planters were arranged here and there, with various fauna from different corners of the galaxy. She passed by one, plucking a dried seedpod from between its leaves, and tossing it a few times in her palm.

It rattled with a hollow noise, as several dozen seeds shook around inside the small ball.

"Catch?" she inquired of Ekerin, tossing him the ball. Her ears twitched to follow its sound, as the seeds shifted within it. Not only was it a practical exercise in reflexes, catch. It was also kind of enjoyable.

Brightening at the prospect of food, Ekerin followed Sellah's path through the temple amiably, humming to himself as they trekked through a carefully trimmed orchard of massive pillars. The original planters had long abandoned their work for another time and place, but the merits of their seamless work remained stoic. The canopies of such formed the ceiling, and lowered arches formed periodically to mark access to another section. It was through one of these that Sellah took her new padawan, into a lush inchworm clearing vibrant with assorted flora. Ekerin's aqua blue eyes had a tendency to skim over green in plants, rather attracted to other colored splashes on the canvas of viridian. Claws scratched on a winding broken path of underfoot rocks with a natural din as the two ambled along, and voices remained quiet for a short time.

He didn’t mind. There were things to think about, and he always felt better when he was going somewhere; this went double when the destination was food. Also, of lesser importance, he needed to think of another question for his master.

This particular line of musing, however, was preempted by Sellah’s own action. The Amaran carefully caught the thrown brittle pod in his clawed hands. Instinctively, he wondered if he could eat it. Or maybe the seeds were edible… Ekerin shook the pod lightly, before looking up at Sellah. She expected him to throw it back, didn’t she…

He could be patient, but realized with his master’s one word question, it was now technically his turn. Ekerin tossed the makeshift ball back to her and grinned winningly,

“When can I make my own lightsaber?”