Mud | Obikin

21.

The blizzard is so harsh we barely advance, there's nothing in view but the small cones of light from our headlamps.

After about an hour, I signal Anakin to stop, baring my mouth to shout over the wind that I just saw a cave.
I can't see his expression behind the scarf and goggles, but not even he can insist we go on. We leave our vehicles and begin the short climb towards the natural shelter.

Once inside, the light from our 'sabers allows us a first search; bare rock veiled in thin sheets of ice, no bigger than my sleeping quarters at the Temple. Standing at its centre, I can touch the roof just by raising my hand.
We should be able to warm it enough to pass the night.

Anakin places a ray shield to seal the entrance.
I light a small fire, wondering if the low howl we hear is the wind or native animals.

"Ahsoka is smart, she'll be fine," I tell him because his face is breaking me. "We can't help her if we freeze beforehand."

He sits at my side without a comment. We wait in silence for our bodies to stop shaking.
Outside, darkness seems infinite, as if this cave could be the only spot of light in the whole Galaxy.

"When was last time you ate?" He eventually asks.

Apparently 'this morning, Coruscant time,' is not the right answer. Anakin snorts and starts rummaging in his backpack, grumbling that I should take better care of myself.

"Yes, Master," I mock, surprised by his unusual attentiveness.

He cracks a soft smile, warming up two rations over the crude fire.

We catch up on our news while eating. Anakin tells me that pirates have been flooding Diflu over recent weeks, harassing traders and smuggling ore off the planet.
After that, he frowns regarding my recollection of the operations hidden on Palawa and the Dark Signature I sensed there.
We try to find a connection between our tales and the Embassy attack but conclude that we're still missing some links.

When the cave gets warm enough, we take off our coats to let them dry near the flame.

"What's that?" I ask, noticing a dark stain on his garment.

He looks down at it, thoughtful. "Told you, we had problems arriving."

My meaningful glare makes him huff, though he docilely removes his tunic and raises an arm to let me check his side, shivering lightly.
I have a quick look at the small excoriation, winning the impulse to touch the prickles on his chilled skin but lingering in his warmth a little too long.

I throw him some Bacta from our luggage and get back to my spot beside the embers.

He applies the patch, sullenly shaking his head. "Bacta will never be the same again."

I can't hold back a snicker, and he eyes me, gratified with my reaction.

"Get redressed, you di'kut. It's not exactly hot," I tell him, glancing at my holocom to discover we are isolated.

He grabs his clothes with a chuckle. "I thought you said 'you're not exactly hot' and was about to cry a little."

I roll my eyes. "You already have plenty of validations on the matter; you shouldn't need mine."

"I wouldn't mind a second opinion."

His naughty grin makes me think of several practical ways to give him that second opinion. What I say instead, is that I took pity on that poor waitress at the cantina today.

Anakin fuels the furnace, answering that he can't help being irresistible to gingers.

"I assumed it was the other way around," I shoot back, a smirk rising on my lips. "I'm pretty sure that's not how I taught you to gather information, but nobody is going to scold you for making the most out of your qualities. I'm not your Master nor anything else, no need to act so guilty."