Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⠀Dalilah followed closely behind the man, unsure of her surroundings even though she had been on this planet for quite some time. Nevarro was dark and thick with soot. Heat rose in swirls beneath them as the volcanic planet slowly cooked the girl's skin. She looked down to see the black dust gather at the edges of her boots, and she kicked up a rock in her path. It was wholly new, but not exceptionally fascinating.
⠀What was interesting to Dalilah was the market the man had led her through. There was all manner of people there, and all manner of things. Food stations, and fabric vendors. Deafening shouts of persuasion echoing their way, but the Mandalorian strolled through all of it, his mind very much on the task at hand. His noiseless steps were assured and confident, whereas Dalilah found hers stumbling at every possible opportunity, unable to regain any sense of ground - too distracted by the unfamiliar sounds and visions around her - the antithesis of how the Mandalorian walked.
⠀Her gaze desperately travelled over everything in their path, swallowing the view whole and saving the feeling of a grand space around her for a time when she might be enclosed again.
⠀The girl didn't know it but he had one stop to make before their departure, but he wasn't going to lead her there. They followed twists and turns through the small town, eventually ending up on a lengthy stretch towards an allotment of ships. Dalilah swallowed thickly as she looked back to the vendors. Hunger naturally rising in her stomach but no bravery to ask whether they could stop to arrange for her something to eat.
⠀She didn't remember the last time she ate, but looking at the back of his visor was intimidation enough. Hence she stuck to him like sand on wet skin. Hovering on the cusp of his vision.
⠀Every once in a while the Mandalorian would take a glance back at her, feeling like if he didn't look at her enough she would melt into the horizon and disappear. She was extremely translucent in her presence, and the only solution to keep her grounded was to constantly make sure she was there, right beside him. He never had to look far, as he noted her almost reaching out to him as she knew of her weightlessness herself.
⠀The worry in her eyes had been replaced by unspeakable relief, and for once in a long time, Dalilah felt like she could breathe.
⠀They arrived at the Razor Crest, the home of the Mandalorian. Their boots sliding over the metallic ground, in sync and quietly unsure of each other. Again, showing off their notable differences in just the way they stood despite their footsteps being almost one and the same.
⠀The man stood to the side of the gunship, promptly letting the girl walk a little ways past him before he pointed to an obscure corner. He leaned back into the walls, patient of her as she looked at him expectedly but followed his orders. Slowly lowering herself, crossing one hand over the other - a habit picked up from the interminable stretches of time her wrists had been bound.
