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After traversing through the harsh landscapes of the desert, the unlikely trio had found their way to an old vapour farm, owned by a creature known as Kuiil. After cautious introductions had been shared between Eden and the Ugnaught, the former had allowed herself the leisure of sitting down upon the warm ground as the two males converse, Mando to take the lead. She watches fondly as the child, who stands not far in front of her, attempts to capture a frog that leaps around in circles. As she does so, the words of Kuiil catch within her ears. "This is what was causing all the fuss?"
Mando, who stands with one leg positioned upon a rock, fiddles with the wrist piece of his armour, which had yet to recover from the electric shock he'd endured earlier. His gaze briefly flickering from his armour, and toward the child, he answers earnestly. "I think it's a child."
"It is better to deliver it alive, then," Kuiil muses, wandering a few steps away from the beskar-clad man, and toward a workbench. Gazing out upon the tools, he takes one within his hand, silently weighing it within his palm.
"My ship has been destroyed," Mando tells him, his gaze shifting to meet the eyes of the male Ugnaught. Though his face is obscured by a layer of metal, the frustration in which seeps out with his every word does not pass by unnoticed by those around him. "We're trapped here."
"Stripped. Not destroyed," Kuiil corrects the bounty hunter, meandering back over to where he stands. Outreaching an arm to the Mandalorian, he holds out a small tool for him to take. "The Jawas steal. They don't destroy."
"Stolen or destroyed, makes no difference to me," Accepting the tool from Kuiil, offering him a small nod of thankfulness, Mando uses it to fix the wrist piece of his armour; this time with success. "They're protected by their crawling fortress. There's no way to recover the parts."
"You can trade."
"You want to trade with Jawas?" The doubtful tone of Eden rings out as she speaks up, finally deciding to join the conversation. Raising a singular brow at Kuiil, whom she remains unsure about despite him having Mando's trust, she meets his gaze. "You must be out of your mind."
"I will take you to them," Kuiil pays no attention to the doubtful nature of the woman's words, nor does he care toward the hesitance he knows to pass over her metal-clad counterpart. Arvala-7 would be peaceful once more once free of bounty hunters, and if he had to challenge their stubbornness, their pride, in order to help them, then so be it. "I have spoken."
