Roanoke likes the cold, but not this kind of cold.
He's been to Maldo Kreis before, and right now all it does to him being here on this planet is dredge up awful memories of his deceased Sith master. The Padawan is shivering despite the layers of thermal insulated clothing, so it's easy for anyone with psychological knowledge to discern that the subtle tremble of his huge frame is psychosomatic.
Roanoke doesn't complain, however. Nor had he shied away from the mission once Knight Althea Lucis told him that she's to bring him and another Padawan to assist her on her mission. According to her, a small town located on the outskirts of a nearby spaceport reached out to the Jedi for help regarding an increasing incident of missing persons. Initial reports yielded no helpful information, except for the odd occurrences of people just getting out of bed one morning, going on with their daily routine, then walking away from the town to never return. No bodies have been found yet, and cautious locals hold on to a fraying hope that their relative, friend, or lover might still be alive.
The former acolyte follows after Lucis as she disembarks from the ship. Rubbing his gloved hands anxiously, Roanoke looks at Zessel over his shoulder. His breath comes out in misty wisps, nose and cheeks red from the biting cold, jagged scar across his right cheek and bridge of his nose pale against his skin. The mohawked teen adjusts the thick scarf around his neck, as well as the fur-lined hood of his jacket.
"You bundled up real good?" he asks the half-Arkanian, making sure that the latter is properly geared up for the weather.
@LouJoVi