Dodging Nomaani's Arrow

[Jeremy Varin]

"Bein' afraid is natural," came the grunted answer as Jeremy returned to his own drink. He sipped at it, then lowered it slowly back down.

"And as for looking like a fool, I'm fairly certain that if this festival is anything like the old precinct fairs that we used to have back on Corellia, trust me. There is always someone else looking like more of a fool than you think you yourself are."

He made a face at that, as memories flooded back; each and every one a small burst of amusement and hilarity.

"You want to feel better about yourself? Go to a Corellian Precinct Fair. You'll feel like the Pride Mother herself after being there for five minutes," he chuckled.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Hmm"

It came out as a laugh, but more of a space filler. A pondering thought as T'yeellaa remained stuck on Jeremy's previous words. Bein' afraid is natural. Was it that simple? Was the operating state of things to dance on the edge between joy and fear and to enjoy the ride?

The K'ohta'rrou finally upturned her glass, easing it back to the counter next to the bottle that came with it. Maybe he was right. Maybe what she needed most of all was to be afraid. Afraid to venture - to take that untraveled road - but venturing nonetheless.

Suddenly, T'yeellaa pushed off her barstool, authorizing a chit for the full balance.

"The Correlljian Prrecjinct Fajirr ssoundss njice, but jI mjight have otherr planss between herre and now."

She lifted her bottle, placing it in front of Varin; her payment for good advice given.

"Thankss," T'yeellaa smiled in a guarded moment, nurturing the beginnings of a plan in her mind. Hair-brained, last-minute, and desperate. But the payoff was worth the risk.

"jI neverr got jyourr name."

[Jeremy Varin]

He gave her a smile in thanks at her gift, reaching over with an outstretched hand.

"Varin, Ma'am. Jeremy Varin."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa completed the human custom, taking Varin's hand in embrace. He'd been a big help to her. Part of it reminded her of the talks she'd have with her fathers, when it was a little okay to be vulnerable for a change. Even taking off the armor for a minute did wonders.

"T'yeellaa Meorrrei."

Releasing Varin's grasp, the Cizerack's eyes went down to her present attire in a rare moment of self-awareness.

"Now, jif jyou'll excusse me, jI thjink jI need to go sshoppjing asss ssoon asss posssjible."