[ As is his wont, Cal keeps pretty much to himself at the gathering by the memorial wall, choosing mostly to sit and observe and hang out with BD-1, who is currently and unobtrusively hunkered down in the space underneath the arc of Cal's legs. He'd accepted a little bit of the drink earlier, mostly for appearances, but after taking a sip to confirm his suspicions about what kind of drink it was, he's just been nursing his cup ever since.
In a way, this kind of reminds Cal of the times Prauf would drag him along on outings to the cantina with their guildmates. He hadn't drank much then, entirely out of fear he would let his secret slip, and it had, apparently, become a habit.
His gaze is fixed on the memorial wall—the echoes are still there, like pinpricks of light in the Force—when the woman sitting next to him interrupts his reverie, and he comes out of it with a blink. ]
Oh, uh. I'm okay. [ He lifts his cup, rattling it a little to show that it's still part-full, and then adds wryly: ] You can have my share.
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In a way, this kind of reminds Cal of the times Prauf would drag him along on outings to the cantina with their guildmates. He hadn't drank much then, entirely out of fear he would let his secret slip, and it had, apparently, become a habit.
His gaze is fixed on the memorial wall—the echoes are still there, like pinpricks of light in the Force—when the woman sitting next to him interrupts his reverie, and he comes out of it with a blink. ]
Oh, uh. I'm okay. [ He lifts his cup, rattling it a little to show that it's still part-full, and then adds wryly: ] You can have my share.
[ He saw you drain the last one, Zeta. ]