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The ghosts of an amused smile tug upon the corners of Eden's cracked lips, a glint of calm passing through the chaos of her dark eyes. Her gaze is settled upon the child, who sits upon the console to the Mandalorian's left. It reaches out slowly to a button beside him, pressing it as a coo escapes its mouth. Mando, paying it little attention, merely pushes down upon a different button, undoing what the small creature had done. The child, however, brews with curiosity and flips the first switch he can get his hands on.
"Stop touching things," Mando scolds, turning the switch back into its required position. The child stares upon the metal-clad man with his doe-like eyes, the words of the Mandalorian holding little effect on him. The moment he shifts his gaze away from the tiny green creature, it slowly leans toward the control panel, its eyes never leaving Mando as it defies him. It's stubby fingers outstretched, it pushes just one more button.
The Razor Crest violently shakes within the void known as space, the piercing sound of metal rattling echoing through their ears. Eden's hands grasp for the arms of her chair as the ship sways, her shortly-bitten nails digging into the material of the seat. Mando makes a mad dash for the controls, returning their flight pattern to normal. Taking hold of the child who seemed set upon fiddling with important things, Mando places it within his lap, one arm gently keeping it still.
"You ever dealt with children before, Mando?" Eden inquires with a singular brow raised in curiosity, the gentle nature in which he'd handled the child with, along with the fatherly tone within his voice when he spoke, piquing her interest. To her surprise, Mando shakes his head, having never done so before. "Guess it comes naturally to some people. Anyway, I've been thinking. The little guy's stuck with us now, I think we should name him."
"You want to name him?" Mando's helmet turns slightly in her direction upon hearing the comment, a flicker of amusement passing through his voice. With the face which lies beneath the helmet hidden to her eye, Eden is left only to imagine the way his lips would curl into a vague smile, or the joyous glint that'd pass his eyes, that were of a colour she knew not. "And what would you suggest we call him?"
"I'd say Mando Jr is a pretty catchy name. Rolls right off the tip of the tongue," Eden quips, a smirk dancing with ease upon her lips. Her words are met only with silence, and she can practically feel the exasperated stare in which she received from Mando. Raising her hands into the air in mock surrender, she shrugs. "Fine. He doesn't look like a Mando Jr anyway. We could name him Greg, if that's what you prefer."
"We're not naming him Greg."
"You're no fun," Eden feigns a disappointed tone, her lips forming a pout. The expression does not endure the test of time, for it breaks underneath the gaze of the Mandalorian, a grin emerging within the place it once was. She could only hope that Mando shared the same expression, beneath the metal exterior. "So, where are we going again?"
