[ The graveyard stretches on forever, the quiet oppressive, the feeling of being observed making his skin crawl. He notices Ahsoka from a ways away, and feels instant relief. Another person, alive (he hopes). He's been in here for who knows how long, the moon hanging eerily still in the sky, the purple cast over everything unchanging.
He keeps his steps even, dirt puffing up around his boots, eyes slipping from her to the gravestone, the name unfamiliar as he tries to sound it out on his tongue. ]
Would if I could. Seem to be pretty turned around.
[ Like he just took a wrong turn. Like he doesn't feel like he's caught in an endless stretch of land with no escape in sight. ]
iii
He keeps his steps even, dirt puffing up around his boots, eyes slipping from her to the gravestone, the name unfamiliar as he tries to sound it out on his tongue. ]
Would if I could. Seem to be pretty turned around.
[ Like he just took a wrong turn. Like he doesn't feel like he's caught in an endless stretch of land with no escape in sight. ]