A blaster I'll take. A lightsaber? I'll cut my self on accident- I still hit my shins during the defensive maneuvers Ben has been walking me through. It's frustrating- I do not know if it is the difference in the forms or if it is my own lack of familiarity with the art in general.

[Because it was an artform. A graceful, useful, deadly artform. She chuckles a bit to herself. The horror pushed from her mind for now. They'll be alright. Somehow. She hopes, at least but.

There was the time to consider. The Malnosso. That should be her primary concern.]

I've never been one for optimism. For hope. But damn you and damn Ben, I am beginning to become optimistic.