Wolf Totem

It was utterly silent, save for the quiet whirring of BD-1's charging state and the constant sound of sheets rustling in the bunk above him. Neither were loud enough to prevent himself from getting some shut-eye, but it was no sound that was keeping him from it.

"Can't sleep either?" Jedi Knight Cal Kestis called out in a hushed whisper, tone cautious in case the other was somehow asleep despite all the noise clearly coming from him.

Rest wasn't an easy option knowing there was practically an ancient artifact lying directly overhead, especially in his own room. His mind had been overflowing with questions since the two of them returned to the saloon. Somehow, he had convinced the other that he had no harmful intentions. That he only wanted to help, and luckily the bygone Jedi agreed to come with Cal when he'd questioned it. That was, however, after a little (a lot) of pointless dueling with one another. But it's fine, right? Right! Everyone deserves a second chance, even when they've attempted to kill you countless times.

How was Dagan Gera still alive after all those years? Why hadn't anybody found him? What happened for him to be left there? Hell, what was it even like during his time?

Cal wanted to ask him so much. Learn everything he could about the era in which Dagan was supposedly frozen in. Wasn't he practically a living history holobook? Speaking of holobooks, what did they do in their free time? Did they even have freetime at all? Was there art? Music? I wonder what-

His thoughts were cut off when he heard the man in question lightly shove his bedsheets aside before sliding off the bunk, landing on the floor beside Cal's own bed, immediately eying him.

Dagan's silver hair was loosely thrown up in what seemed like a lazy attempt at a bun. It was disheveled due to what Cal assumed was from all the tossing and turning. He wore one of Kestis's black tunics found shoved in the back of his closet, untouched in what could've been years from how dusty it appeared when the Jedi picked it out from a pile. He thought Dagan would appreciate some form of coverage since that was definitely lacking, him being left in the same medical-assigned pants for the last two-hundred-something years.

"Of course I can't sleep." There was an irritated roll of his eyes before Dagans gaze landed on the ginger again. "All night you've been continuously mumbling to yourself. No end in sight." He paused and rested one hand on his own hip. "Quite loudly, may I add."

"Oh." Cal sat upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed frame, meeting Dagan's narrowed eyes.

"Sorry, I've had a lot on my mind as of-"

"I know." The Arkanian had a tinge of annoyance plastered on his pale face. A mildly confused one stared back at him until he continued. "You should learn not to project your thoughts so loudly, Kestis."

Cal's lips turned into a frown, a sense akin to embarrassment washing over him. Kriff. Dagan heard all that? Oh. Right. The Force-bond. Duh.

He wasn't used to there being another force wielder around. Nevermind one he shared a connection with that could hear his fucking thoughts if he projected them loud enough, even when it wasn't intentional. In hindsight, he should've just let Dagan free from his tank without a second thought instead of attempting to get an echo of his past, trying to judge whether he should really be free or not. He didn't mean to create this... thing they now shared. The Force really does have its own way of working, huh?

Gera sighed seeing his expression, not wanting to give off the impression he was angered. Especially with all their recent conflicts. "I'm not mad, little Jedi." he seated himself next to Kestis, about an arms length apart. Face eventually twisting to one of amusement. "Ask away."