Fennex Zeerda
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Dec 22, 2017
- Messages
- 226
- Reaction score
- 218
"My apologies Master Zeerda! I didn't recognize you right away."
The Temple Guards posted at the corridor to Silas quarters quickly stepped aside with an apologetic bow. The Jedi Master waved off the apology and shuffled through the gap, unconcerned by such incredibly minor inconveniences nowadays, but the guardians words got him thinking- had he really changed that much? True, he was going a bit gray in the fur lately. What had started as a few stray hairs here and there had slowly turned into a patchwork of mottled grey and yellowish fur all over, and the once pitch black tips of his ears were starting to go fade the same way. Fennex certainly wasn't vain about his appearance- he'd been wearing the same patched and ratty grey coat over the same worn blue tunic for decades. He kept it all clean and serviceable, but nobody could ever say the Amaran was a fashion icon.
He doubted that was what the sentry had meant though. In fact, he doubted practically anyone took much note of his slowly aging appearance, except those who'd know him well the longest. He wondered if it might be his entire presence and demeanor. He could remember, years ago, younger Knights and initiates jumping at his very move, trying not to catch his attention, knowing that it could result in an impromptu (and potentially painful) lesson. He stomped about the temples irritably, nose held high and ears perked as if he was trying to sniff out trouble wherever he could find it... Fen realized he wasn't that Fox anymore, and he wondered what it meant and when it had happened. Hmm, he mused, something to meditate on...
The door to Silas quarters whisked open as he approached, revealing the man and his "apprentice", sitting under the watchful eye of another Guardian perched in the corner. Fennex would be happy to finally get this whole situation resolved, and in a totally peaceful manner to boot. He'd been concerned at every turn that there might be some display of power, a poor choice made by one of his Knights (who had both performed quite admirably in their tasks), the exile, or even himself. Even still though, this had been mentally and emotionally draining, and having to tune into the Conclave in the middle of their trip home hadn't helped things either. He needed a nap and a good long sit, preferably somewhere quiet and remote.
"I'm sure you're both tired of being cooped up here, so for your sakes I'll abbreviate the pleasantries and get straight to the point," The Jedi Master addressed Silas as he shuffled into the room, eying them both closely, "The short version of it all is that my work is concluded, and you're both free to go."
Fennex plopped onto a low sitting meditation stool near the door and folded his paws into his lap with a tired huff. There sure were a lot more stairs in this place than he remembered...
@GABA @Raydo
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