[There's a moment of absolute blankness on the Mandalorian’s part, a slight tilting of the helmet as he tries to place the voice, the face. Things had been...fraught, to say the least, when last they'd met.
It's the eyes that do it, eventually, the bright, keen focus of them finally triggering the memory. Din startles a little, guiltily prying his gaze away from the mirrored window they're both stood in front of.]
Jedi. [He isn't looking at the window. He isn't, and so instead he's looking at the stark line down the younger man's throat, like a bloodless wound. There had been something about that in the orientation, but Din had been too incensed and grieved by the removal of his armor to take it in.] I wasn't.
[Then, suddenly stricken, and forgetting entirely to avoid standing in front of the reflective surface:] The -- kid. Is he here?
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It's the eyes that do it, eventually, the bright, keen focus of them finally triggering the memory. Din startles a little, guiltily prying his gaze away from the mirrored window they're both stood in front of.]
Jedi. [He isn't looking at the window. He isn't, and so instead he's looking at the stark line down the younger man's throat, like a bloodless wound. There had been something about that in the orientation, but Din had been too incensed and grieved by the removal of his armor to take it in.] I wasn't.
[Then, suddenly stricken, and forgetting entirely to avoid standing in front of the reflective surface:] The -- kid. Is he here?