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Bright, gleaming Beskar reflects sunlight that rebounds across the Mandalorian's bare face, illuminating the softly beautiful features typically concealed by his helmet. His eyes scan the village below as he leans against the edge of the window, wreathing himself in shadow. A beat later, his gaze falls upon the person he'd been looking for. She walks rapidly along the path, seeming to be tailing someone that he can't spot.
Mando's gaze shoots to the kids playing near the barn to ensure that it isn't the child she's following (it's not: the small creature gurgles and laughs as the other young villagers playfight above him).
The line of his jaw hardens just before she disappears around the bend, fists taut at her sides, as he recalls the feeling of her arms around him, and how she'd been so flush against his chest that he could feel her heart beating, the sound of it an enrapturing rhythm, begging him with every thump to pull her closer, closer, closer.
He releases a shaky breath and takes a final swig from the wooden cup the widow had brought him, staring out at the inky outline of the pines, harsh and eye-catching against the sky. The breeze that drifts gently through the window brushes cool strokes across his face, a feeling he's unused to with the helmet on. For a moment, he closes his eyes and pictures that it's her touching him, and something in his heart clenches painfully as a haze of soft, white clouds drift across the sun.
It probably meant nothing to her. Just forget it.
｡･:*:･ﾟ✧ ｡･:*:･ﾟ
The grass lays soft and emerald underneath Zoya's boots as she tails Omera through the camp. She hadn't wanted to run after the woman and cause any sort of alert, but there's a quickness to her step to ensure the woman doesn't disappear out of her line of view. Omera nears a hut then glances back, almost out of instinct, and sees Zoya following her. A soft smile presses up the corners of her mouth, and she lifts a hand.
Zoya returns the gesture and jogs the last few feet. "Hey Omera," she says.
"Zoya. Is there something I can help you with?"
"Yeah, actually," she replies, almost out of breath from the bit of cardio. "I was wondering if you had any extra clothes that I could use. These are a little . . . worn." She raises her arm to demonstrate the lack of sleeve, and Omera grins.
