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"Aliit ori'shya tal'din? Did I get it right this time?"
A gentle crease dances teasingly in the space between Eden's brows, an almost child-like determination to succeed blissfully painted upon her tired features. Blossoms of amusement erupt within the heart of Din as her gaze wanders back upon him, the edge of excitement within the earthly hues of her eyes making the corners of his lips crawl upwards into a grin — the near ethereal smile hidden to the eyes of all. Its presence is known only through his voice, which is laced with playful intent as he confirms, "You got it."
As though the sparks of his smile had been sent adrift, sneaking out from beneath his helmet and unto her, a grin much alike his' spread across Eden's lips like a wildfire. "See? I am learning," She utters, proudly so, eliciting a small, rumbling chuckle from the man beside her. Delving momentarily into a peaceful silence, she ponders the language she was ever-so-gradually learning more of, asking of herself what she wishes to learn next. "Alright, how about Ner Ka'rta? It's your nickname for me, so I'd love to know what it actually means."
Shaking his head, teasingly, Din responds, "You'll have to try harder than that, Ner Ka'rta."
"Fine." Her gaze absentmindedly meandering across every intricate detail of Din's sacred armour, an exaggerated huff brushes past her playfully pursed lips. At the tiny sound, the child, who lies asleep within Eden's arms, stirs ever so vaguely within its slumber, gaining Eden's attention. Gently, as though not to awaken the outwardly peaceful creature, Eden fiddles with a stray strand of hair on its head, and, as she does, a thought ignites within her mind. "What about home? What's your word for that?"
"Yaim." As the word tumbles through his modulator, Din's eyes remain intertwined upon the scene before him; soaking in the atmosphere reminiscent of peace brewing from Eden as she looks between both him and the child. "Yaim'la is the feeling, or 'sense', that you're at home."
"Yaim'la," testing out the foreign sensation of the phrase upon her tongue, Eden can't help but smile at the warmth it radiates. "It's kind of beautiful."
"Yeah." A distant fleck of nostalgia dances amongst Din's lonesome words, caught by the ears of the one person who dares listen close enough. His eyes wandering aback, Din observes the sleeping form of their passenger, hesitating for but a moment before speaking, as to ensure the Frog Woman is truly consumed by unconsciousness. "I ever tell you about my home? The one I had before the Mandalorians saved me?"
