Meditation

[Makiro]

Makiro listened to Sihara's words, nodding attentively as she spoke. When she posed him a question, however, his face fell; he had hoped Sihara would tell him what to do. Nevertheless, a few moments' consideration was all it took to arrive at his answer.

"I think we should speak with them. I mean, we should take them some flowers as well, perhaps, but I think they might enjoy some company - provided the healers do not think it too loud!"

He paused for a moment, pleased that he had formulated a plan of his own and suggested it to a full-blown Jedi Knight.

"Err... what do you think?"

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara smiled brightly, pleased that he had thought much along the same lines as herself. The togruta woman chuckled slightly as she caught the wave of pleased emotion from the boy just before he questioned her back.

Great minds think alike it seems, Makiro. That was part of my original intent. It's also a good opportunity for you to learn something about healing, and for me to continue to practice my skills. Over all, you make a wise choice.

With that, the knight continued onward in the direction of the medical wing, trusting that Makiro would follow. She had been thinking quite a bit on the boy over the past day, and the more she thought, the more she came to one conclusion...she should take him as her padawan. As much as she wanted the boy to be with a more...trustworthy...jedi, it just FELT right having him tagging along with her. The question now was...when to ask the boy? Perhaps at the end of the day, if all went well, she would ask him then.

[Makiro]

((OOC: Sorry, I'm rather tired, so the quality of this post is somewhat poor...))

Makiro followed dutifully behind Sihara, smiling brightly as warm sunlight washed through the large open windows and bathed his face in golden light. A light breeze flowed into the vast hallway and ruffled the boy’s dark hair, pushing a few rebellious strands across his olive-skinned forehead.

As they walked the cavernous corridor, their footsteps echoing loudly in the thick blanket of silence, Makiro reflected on three things. Firstly, he thought about his upcoming birthday; he knew, of course, that it would not be long before a life of menial labour on some far-flung, backwater, Rim world was thrust upon him. Secondly, he pondered on his relationship with Sihara; in a mere couple of days, she had almost become a teacher to him – a master in all but name. He had spoken with her about things he had never even thought of around other people, and he was convinced that it was only she who would ever be able to help him achieve his true potential as a Jedi – assuming that he wasn’t deported to the AgriCorps…

His final reflection – perhaps more anticipation of the near future – was on the Medical Wing towards which he and Sihara were now purposefully striding, their humble robes flowing gracefully behind them. He hoped that the experience would be one from which he learnt a lot, as well as being able to aid others in their suffering. Despite his dreams of becoming a Jedi Guardian – of mastering the greater intricacies of the lightsabre, in order to vanquish the foes of peace and justice – he also had a great desire to learn how to heal people – to repair the wounds left in the Galaxy by war and corruption. In his mind, the two concepts – that is, combat and healing – went hand in hand. One must be prepared to heal, if one is prepared to destroy.

Presently, Makiro saw that the pair of Jedi had reached a small, unassuming door, set solidly between to graceful statues. The bronzium artwork of the finely crafted portal glistened as light and shadow played delicately across the exquisite friezes that had been carved so intricately into its amber-like surface. The two statues on either side of the door were the very personifications of healing. Both bronzium faces stared outwards with an expression that exuded inner calm and serenity. Respectful bronzium hoods covered beautiful bronzium faces – faces that seemed to possess neither gender nor species.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((it's alright. I'm running low on creativity at the moment so mine will most likely be a rambling PoS post. ))

Sihara paid little attention to the sounds of their footfalls, or the silence that surrounded them. Her eyes were focused on some place far along down the hall they were currently striding through...no doubt it was the door they were destined for, despite the fact that she couldn't yet see it. The sunlight peering through the windows cast a golden glow along the tiled floors and bronzed statues, their forms reflecting the light in a way that it glinted in the eyes from time to time temporarily blinding the passers by if they didn't take care to avoid such things. Despite the various moments of blinding light, Sihara continued onward, undaunted by the fact that she was just the right height to be blinded by nearly every glare of light they passed. Her montral and the force helped her maneuver well enough that it didn't even look as if she couldn't see half the time.

By the time they had reached the medical wing, however, Sihara could see well enough once again. The medium sized doors slid open with a light hiss of air and turning of gears, and the scent of kolto and the sterile smell of cleaning solution and salve filled her lungs. It was, oddly enough, a comforting scent for the togruta knight. She'd spent quite a bit of time here during her years as a padawan, and she could clearly recall the one man she'd spent so much of her talent on, along with the chiss woman from the MedCorps she'd worked with to save him. Was he the same man she was now being forced to hunt? She wouldn't know until she spoke to him, she was sure. Sighing at the thought, she turned to Makiro and smiled slightly.

Come on then, Makiro, let's see what we can do to help around here.

She said with a slightly brighter smile, obviously pleased with the thought of being able to help. Leading the way to the desk in the corner, she tapped lightly on it to get the attention of the medcorps worker who sat there sifting through the files. Her brown jedi robes in keeping with those of the other workers, masters, and knights who saw to the healing of those in the wing. Looking up the young man smiled slightly and bowed his head for a moment.

"How can I help you?"

Actually, it's us who are wondering how we can help you. I'm Jedi Knight Sihara Horula, and this is youngling Makiro Variyas. I'm a trained healer and I would like him to accompany me. Is there any way we can help those here?

She asked softly so as to not wake the patients who were nearest them. The medcorps worker smiled brightly as if it were a blessing in disguise, and she wondered why, until he replied.

"Thank the force. We're short a healer actually, so none of the knights or masters here have been able to take much of a break. If you could see to the patients in row...."

He paused then to look through the database, and Sihara snuck a smile and a wink to Makiro before the man turned back to them.

"30-A and 30-B."

Sihara nodded and eyed the signs above the various rows of beds. Upon finding the correct rows, she nodded and smiled at the man.

Thank you. We'll do what we can for them. Come on Makiro.

She said with a smile to the boy and headed off toward the rows of patients she had been asked to over see.

[Makiro]

Makiro stepped into the thick smelling of various healing agents, following Sihara’s step perfectly. Waiting patiently as she talked with the MedCorps clerk behind the desk, he looked around the large room, marvelling at the number of patients it held. He watched as hooded Knights and Masters milled slowly between the various beds, administering what help they could to the sick.

When the clerk turned to look through the Medical Wings patient database, Makiro returned Sihara’s smile, his eyes twinkling; he was glad of the chance to be able to help someone.

"30-A and 30-B." Said the clerk finally, indicating the general direction in which those beds lay. Sihara nodded and set off towards them, Makiro dutifully followed, wondering what maladies they would be faced with.

When they reached the two beds, they were greeted by a soft-featured medical droid. The droid whirred and ground a few times, before indicating bed 30-A.

“This patient,” he intoned, indicating a small Rodian Padawan, whose greenish skin looked dry and cracked, “is suffering from a bad case of Dry-scale Hives, which he developed whilst on a mission to Alderaan.”

The droid’s eyes flashed briefly, before he turned to bed 30-B. “This patient,” he said, this time pointing to an Ithorian Jedi Knight, whose greyish skin flushed red as the droid spoke, “broke his leg whilst training here in the Temple. Can I help you with anything… Jedi Knight Sihara Horula?”

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((so sorry it's a blah post...i've not got much muse today))

As they reached the beds, Sihara looked at the two patients quietly for a moment before the droid started speaking. Already she had been searching out through the force toward the two patients to see what the maladies might be, though it was fairly obvious anyway. It was difficult to miss a cast, and the skin irritation of the rodian also made his condition fairly straightforward. Even as the droid reported their conditions Sihara was already debating on what to do, and by the time it asked if it could help, she had already decided on what needed to be done. Turning to Makiro she nodded slightly...it was time to get to work. Walking over to the little rodian first, she smiled as she put her hand on his arm.

I'll be needing some antihistamines for the boy, other than that, no. We should be fine thank you.

Turning back to the young padawan, she smiled at him kindly.

I'm jedi knight Sihara, and this Makiro. We've come to try and help you feel a bit better. I'm also going to be helping Makiro learn a bit about healing, so I'll have him helping me also. Hopefully that's alright with you?

[Makiro]

((OOC: Sorry it's taken me so long to produce such a... short post; I've been having trouble accessing the computer over the past week or so.))

The Padawan nodded… painfully.

“H'chu apenkee.” He said, greeting them in Huttese. For a few moments his face was twisted in irritation as he scratched a reddish area of dry scales with his flared fingers.

As the medical droid returned with the antihistamines – a strange bluish liquid in a small dispenser syringe – the young rodian looked up at his mechanical face with a certain degree of annoyance.

“Coona tee-tocky malia?!” What took you so long?! He asked, frustrated.

The droid apologised sheepishly; a servant doing its duty. Nodding his head in acceptance of the droid’s apology, the rodian propped himself up uncertainly on his pillows so that he was almost in a sitting position. He turned his sorrowful, blubous eyes on Sihara and sighed.

“Chess ko…” Be careful He said timidly, glancing nervously from Sihara to Makiro.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara bowed in greeting to the young Rodian, and smiled at him. The poor boy was obviously in pain, but the antihistamines would do a world of good on their own so that he could answer her questions more fully and thence treat him accordingly. As the droid returned and the boy spoke once more, she gave him a chastising look.

Be kind, young one, and treat others with respect even when you grow frustrated. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar after all.

Turning to the droid then, she thanked it and took the syringe. At the boy's request, she simply nodded before looking to Makiro.

Makiro, hives are often caused by an allergic reaction to something that a being has come into contact with. Please hold still young one...this is going to stick for a moment.

She stated, as she carefully held the syringe against the young Rodian's neck. With the press of a finger, the blue liquid slid down the tube as the needle pricked into the boy's neck and vein. Removing the syringe and pressing a clean cotton swab and a gentle red and white hand to the place she had just removed the tube from, she smiled down at him. Over all the young boy had behaved very well, only flinching slightly at the pain, but not moving otherwise.

There, that wasn't so bad? Now give it a moment to work. By the way, what's your name, young one?

Sihara queried, realizing he'd not offered his name when she had introduced herself and Makiro.

[Makiro]

"My name?" Asked the Rodian, switching to flawless - if heavily accented - Basic. "My name is Jeedo. I apologise for my previous brevity; as you can imagine, my condition is somewhat... irritating."

Makiro smiled at the Rodian.

"Don't worry Jeedo, we're here to help. Are you feeling alright now?"

Jeedo smiled.

"Yes. Thank you for your concern, human. I fear it is only amongst the Jedi that one can find individuals of your species who show such care for 'aliens' such as myself. If you don't mind me saying, Master Sihara," said the Rodian, sounding infinitely more mature than he looked - often the curse of the Jedi-, "you have found yourself a fine padawan."

Makiro blushed bright red.

"Oh! No! I'm not Master Sihara's padawan! She is just helping me to... well, she's just helping."

The Rodian nodded apologetically.

"I apologise, human. Still," he said, with a twinkle in his eye, "you make a fine pair!"

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara only listened silently to the two speak and briefly glanced up as the rodian boy commented on Makiro's status as her padawan. Curious honey and clover eyes glanced at the human boy as he replied and she smiled inwardly. Yes. She had indeed found herself a fine padawan...he just didn't know it yet. The tri-colored female went about her work as Jeedo spoke again.

Thank you, Jeedo. Yes, I find Makiro to be quite an excellent padawan candidate.

She left her words at that, deciding to not explain herself thought further as she brought that familiar blue glow around her hands once more, sending the healing waves into the boys body to try and find the source of the irritation in the boy's body.

Yes, it's understandable that it is an irritating situation at best, but that is no reason to take it out on that poor droid. It's only doing it's job you know.

Another pause in her speech was marked with a slight tilt of her head as she noted, and healed, a few bruises she came across before continuing her search for what it was that had caused the hives. Sighing, she found no trace of it, so she shook her head and settled on dampening the pain receptors and healing the inflammation that she could.

Well, Jeedo, I'm not sure what you came into contact with, but I can't find a trace of it left in your body. I'm afraid you'll have to ride the rest of it out...but it shouldn't be much longer....I dampened the pain a bit, and healed some of the inflammation for you so it should be a bit more bearable for you.

[Makiro]

((OOC: Sorry it's so short... I was at a bit of a loss as to what to write.))

"Thank you, Master Sihara, your help has been most appreciated."

So saying, the young Rodian closed his bulbous eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep, the rising and falling of his chest growing ever slower. Turning away from the sleeping Padawan, Makiro looked up at Sihara's rusted face.

"Do you really think I'm an excellent Padawan candidate, Master Sihara?"

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

(( starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Ithorian < Ithorian...I think you were thinking of something else with the 'gray skin' comment above. ^_^ ))

Sihara simply smiled at the youth in the bed as he thanked her. It was unnecessary, but it was nice to hear anyway. Healing was part of her job, part of her very being it seemed since she could use the talent, and so it was like thanking her for using her hands to do something. She watched, mildly contented, as the rodian boy fell asleep finally. No doubt he needed the rest, when the body was sick or injured was the time it needed rest the most. When Makiro turned to her, however, she gave a tilt of her head in confusion at his question. Did he honestly think that she would say something and not mean it? True, there were times when, as with all other jedi missions, one had to fabricate a truth to get the answers one needed...but why lie outside of those times?

It serves me no purpose to lie, Makiro, so why doubt what I say about you?

She asked simply. It was both a question and a gentle admonishment toward the boy. He hadn't meant to question her words, she didn't think, but just in case there HAD been some doubt about the truth of them, she saw to it that it was stifled now.

I would not lie to you or others, little one, unless it was necessary to achieve something more important...like keeping you safe or finding the truth of a matter when only lies will achieve that purpose. I simply find no reason for it.

An itch had formed and bit irritatingly at the tip of her right lekku and much as she had tried to ignore it, the woman found it no longer possible. Reaching up a hand, she gently scratched at the offending bit of skin before stroking along the length of the organ thoughtfully.

In answer to your question, yes. I strongly believe that you will find a master, and perhaps sooner than you think.

With that said, she turned to their next patient, the ithorian with the broken leg. As she walked toward the second bed where the young man was laying, she smiled kindly at him and chuckled a little.

A bit overzealous with your training, hmm? Well, it happens to the best of us...I remember fracturing my wrist once while practicing. I'm Sihara, and this is Makiro...

She stated, putting a hand lightly atop the boy's head as she introduced him.

How can we help you? I mean aside from the work I'll be doing on your leg...

[Makiro]

(( Hmm... it would seem that I was mistaken. I knew exactly what I was thinking of physiologically... but yes, I clearly was more than a little confused about skin colour... XD ))

Makiro acknowledged Sihara's response, as well as showing his own deference, with the smallest of bows - a tiny dipping of the head, not small enough to cause offence, nor large enough to appear ostentatious.

"I was wrong to doubt you, Master Sihara, I can see that now. I shall not make that mistake again."

And he meant it. Even as he said those words, he made a mental pact with himself to trust unquestioningly every word that came from Sihara's mouth - unless, of course, she should fall to the Dark Side.

At the Togruta's comment about finding a master sooner than expected, Makiro simply nodded, not having apt time to answer before the older Jedi had turned to the sickly looking Ithorian in the next bed, who, judging by the unusual pallour to his skin, was suffering from some mild shock brought about by the severity of his break.

The Ithorian refused to meet Sihara's amber eyes as she spoke, clearly quite embarassed by the incident. When she had finished, he looked both at her and Makiro before coughing ashamedly.

"Thank you, Master Sihara," he said, his voice a beautiful - if slow - stereo combination of sound from each of his two mouths, "I am most ashamed to be here at all, if truth be told. Still, a Jedi knows when to accept help, does he not, young Makiro?"

At this he winked at the youngling, and Makiro was sure he could descry the slightest of smiles on one of the older Jedi's mouths. Makiro nodded reservedly, trying his best to look wise. The Ithorian simply laughed.

"You may be a Jedi, boy, but there's no need to go around with a face like a neutered kath hound! Leave that job to the Knights and Masters, eh?"

He laughed again, a deep, resonant noise. Makiro simply blushed and stared down at his booted feet, not quite sure how to respond.

"Right then, Master Sihara," said the Ithorian, his voice much more solemn, "I shouldn't like to ask much more than a simple leg healing if it's all the same to you. No offence to your bedside manner of course, only I really would like to leave as soon as possible. My continued training awaits, does it not?"

He laughed again.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara smiled at the ithorian, her sharp incisors showing in the process. She rather liked this knight, he seemed interesting. As she watched the play the ithorian was having with Makiro, she had already started weaving her thoughts through the force and into the limb of the knight on the bed. The pain from the injury came washing toward her and she grimaced a bit before shutting off her own pain receptors, then dulling his. As he teased Makiro about his solemn expression, the togruta knight chuckled lightly and shook her head, as she stepped closer to the man and rested her hands lightly above the break allowing that familiar blue glow to come up again as her eyes drifted shut lightly.

I'm no master...just a knight such as yourself....but if you INSIST I heal you, then I suppose I can do that.

She replied to his request. Of course, she had already started the healing process, urging the fibers of the bone to mend together again more swiftly than nature would allow under 'normal' circumstances.

I'm certain you get this a lot, but I have to say that your voice is very nice. Though...I suppose that comes with the territory, doesn't it?

She mused, her own voice distant and wistful sounding as she focused more on the healing than on her words.

[Makiro]

The ithorian grimaced as the unusual feeling of bones reconfiguring themselves washed over his leg. As Sihara talked to him, however, he relaxed, soothed by her words and by her presence. At her compliment, he chuckled, but nodded in deference.

"Thank you, Sihara, it seems that your words are as honeyed as your eyes. And yes, you would be right, many beings do comment on the pleasing nature of my voice - and those of all other Ithorians. Just as I am sure no being could deny the beauty of your own lekku!"

He grimaced again as the Force, through Sihara, made subtle adjustments to the allignment and composition of his leg bones. Soon, however, the unpleasant sensation ceased, and the Ithorian smiled and sighed with relief, glad that his leg was healed.

"A thousand 'thank you's, Sihara, a true healer if ever there was one! And a thousand 'thank you's to you too, Youngling Makiro. I am sure you learnt many valuable lessons today."

Makiro nodded enthusiastically, barely managing to overcome his embarassment from their previous exchange.

"Yes, Master, it has been most beneficial to witness Master Sihara's medical efforts. I should like to think that these skills will prove useful when I..."

Makiro trailed off, leaving the last few words of his sentence unsaid. He had almost said when I undertake missions for the Council, but had quickly remembered his predicament.

"Well, I am sure they shall come in handy... anyway."

The Ithorian nodded sagely, his wise eyes sparkling as he inferred Makiro's meaning.

"Do not worry Makiro," he said, glancing at Sihara as the boy looked looked glumly at his feet, "I have a feeling that that which you fear shall not come to pass."

He coughed and then sniffed, scratching his nose in thought.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Sihara chuckled and blushed slightly, something that wasn't likely noticed due to her already red skin, at the ithorian's words.

And your words, Sir, are as silver as your voice....but thank you.

She grinned again at his words, her head bobbing once in acknowledgment and thanks. At his sigh of relief her grin widened, pleased that she had done a good job and he was now healed. It never ceased to surprise her the way the force could mend damaged bones, nerves, skin...nearly anything...and that she was capable of using such power to help others. His thanks earned a bow of her head in return, the metal and shells of the headdress she wore tinkling lightly as part of it slipped over her shoulder and swinging against her shoulder with the motion.

As Makiro and the ithorian exchanged words, she had quietly drifted over behind Makiro, resting her hands on his shoulders as she did so. The astute brown knight eyed the two of them before replying to Makiro's implications and she nodded quietly behind the boy's back. Yes, he knew what she had in mind...most would if they spent even a little time with the two.

You see, Makiro? I'm not the only one who thinks that your concerns are unfounded.

She stated, patting his shoulder with one hand, the other continuing to rest comfortably where it had settled on the opposite one. Turning her eyes to the ithorian once again, she smiled.

Well, you're about as healthy as I can make you. Just try not to injure yourself again today, hmm? I know you've taken a liking to us, but that's no reason to hurt yourself just come back and visit. By the way, I don't believe I caught your name?

[Makiro]

The Ithorian Jedi laughed at Sihara's words.

I'm afraid I may be tempted to do just that, Sihara. So long as you assure me that I shall benefit from the pleasure of your care, and not that of some inexperienced novice!

He looked at Makiro apologetically.

Present company excluded, of course! I rather hope that this inexperienced novice does accompany you. Perhaps in quite a different capacity!

The Ithorian laughed heartily, clearly pleased by the cryptic nature of his insinuations.

My name, he said, tipping his head slightly as he did so, is Gillom Habat; a humble name for a humble Jedi. For now, however, I fear this humble Jedi must rest; your healing skills have proved most valuable, however, I fear that no application of the Force could dull the exhaustion that now overcomes me. I can only thank you once more, and bid you both a sorrowful farewell.

So saying, the Ithorian Jedi, like the Rodian Padawan before him, drifted off into a deep and restful sleep, his body attempting to reconcile itself with its newly healed limb.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((very sorry about the sorry state of the post, but...I'm just not feeling like posting anywhere and am at a loss for what to say to get us from one point to the next....either way, here tis))

Sihara chuckled slightly and shook her head.

I'm afraid that I can assure no such thing.

She replied with a smile. As the ithorian spoke, then drifted off to sleep, she turned to Makiro and patted his shoulder lightly.

Come, Makiro, we should go for a while. I need to speak to you anyway.

The togruta gave another small smile and headed for the door.

[Makiro]

Makiro followed Sihara out of the medical room, pausing only to wave goodbye to the medical clerk. As he walked, a slight frown furrowed his brow, darkening his otherwise cheerful countenance. Looking at the few Jedi who walked past them, their brown robes fluttering in the slight breeze that permeated the Temple's cavernous hallways, Makiro wandered what goals they strode towards. What missions were they engaged on? Who were their padawans? Who were their masters? What careful alliances and ancient grudges - for being a Jedi did not entirely negate such connections - did they cling to?

A small eddie of cool air brushed past Makiro's cheeks and ruffled his dark hair, pushing out of place the carefully smoothed fringe. Scowling, he reached up to flatten it, but feeling dejected, he let his hand fall to his side again. It was no use really; why was he bothering to look so smart, when in but a few weeks he would be toiling and sweating on some mud-covered AgriWorld. Presentation would seem a thing of a distant and easier past. Makiro knew he would regret not taking pride in his appearance.

As he ruminated on his fast approaching fate, he spotted a young human padawan hurrying past. The blonde-haired boy, his hair already cut into the traditional padawan's braid, could not have been any older than eight or nine. He was younger than Makiro, and already he was dashing up to his Twi'lek master after performing some errand of great import for the knight. For a brief moment, Makiro's heart was filled with a jealousy and anger. Burning emotions that seemed, strangely, to soothe his broken heart and scattered thoughts. Taking a deep breath, however, Makiro banished the negative feelings and allowed a sense of peace and serenity wash over him. He was a Jedi. He would accept the fate the Force had decided for him; no matter how humble.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((well, i'm pleasantly surprised by this post ^_^ yay for sleep deprivation!))

As the duo passed along the hallways the young knight nodded to one of the other jedi that passed along beside them, the older shistavanen nodding in return as he passed by and out of sight again, obviously hurrying toward some duty or mission. The pale light of the Coruscant day filtered in through the giant windows placed at set intervals along their path around the gargantuan central hall and it's adjoining chamber...if one wanted to call it that. In all truth, that chamber was more like the central square for a small city. Jedi went there for more than just to pass through...they met there to talk and socialize, to meet up for joint missions, to just watch their fellow Order members go about their day, to gaze at the large bronzium statues there, to read....you name it, it likely happened at one point or another in that space...and this wasn't to mention that it's offshoots led to nearly every other part of the temple.

Though the flourish of life in the space below and beside them caught her attention, that chamber was not the focus of Sihara's attention. Her thoughts swirled around just where she was going, and what she was going there to do, while her senses reached out through the force to brush against the objects and people around her and keep her from colliding with anything. Of course her ever thrumming montral helped greatly with that aspect, but they couldn't tell her everything. One example of this was just after they turned a corner and she felt a spike of anger and jealousy from Makiro. Blinking, the togruta had paused in her stride and looked around for the cause. Spotting a young boy charging, almost gleefully, towards his master, she met the eyes of the twi'lek and blinked a few times, her lekku twitching almost imperceptibly as she apologized for the emotions he'd felt from the dark haired boy who followed her.

Another twitch of lekku, this time from the green skinned man and she nodded slightly. By this time the young padawan had stopped and was gazing curiously between the two then over to Makiro to see if he had any idea as to what was transpiring. A tap against her consciousness and a few impressions through the force and everything that needed to be said between the two jedi had been conveyed in one form or another. With a slight lift of one side of her mouth, Sihara bowed slightly and gave another, almost unnoticeable, few twitches of her lekku and she set off once more in her predetermined pathway.

You know Makiro...

She said quietly once they were out of earshot of the other pair.

We'll be needing to work on shielding your emotions from others, Makiro.

Her words were, for the most part, straight forward and far from admonishing, but they held a subtle hint towards the boy's future should he be clever enough to spot it. Even as she spoke, the young woman paused in her progress once again. They now stood before the doors to a set of turbo lifts near the center of one of the upper levels of the temple. The training floors stood above them, the gardens above those, and the Council Chambers at the top of the spire towered above all. It was a well worn path for every jedi, and jedi hopeful, that had ever passed through these halls...including herself, and now Makiro would soon be on his path toward becoming a knight as well. There was little doubt in the woman's mind that he would say no to her offer...but there was always a chance. That was why she turned to the boy now and knelt down before him, her golden eyes gazing into his for a moment.

Makiro...before we continue, I need to ask you a very important question, and I need you to seriously think about your answer before you give me one, alright?

Her hands had come to rest on the tops of his shoulders lightly as she spoke, slender fingers gripping gently to get her point across more clearly. Yes, it was true that Sihara was nervous at the prospect of taking on another padawan, but she had a good feeling about this boy who stood before her. Things would be different with him, she'd make sure of it...she wouldn't make the same mistakes as she had last time.