How terrible, [ his voice a small thing, he runs his fingers over the back of her hand and does his best to keep from intruding upon the edge to her thoughts; there's dancing along sharpness that she exudes among the rest of her emotions, and then there's trampling all over what little privacy she has when they're holding hands, sharing in their thoughts and feelings. ] You don't even have closure, upon your return. Only more pain, more stress.

[ he can't imagine what that would be like; his only sentiments towards his origins are concern for a boy he knows now to be his son, his nephew, the brother of his partner -- who will shut himself away in his pain, in the end. things that haven't yet come to pass, but he hopes to prevent or change. with rey... she has no end to allow her to rest. ]

I'm not a stranger to war, miss Rey. You don't have to keep how that makes you feel from me... the sorrow, the wrath, the hope and the betrayal. I've felt it as well. What's your role in the war?