The room was quiet, mostly, on the way back to Dantooine. It was relieving to see Torve interested in the books he had picked out for them. His teal fur stood out against his tan and brown robes. The two did not talk much beyond simple conversation. R’kio spoke only when Torve initiated.
The books they read were on paper. Some might call them tomes. R’kio only ever knew words to be preserved in digital format. He could not help but wonder when these books would expire and how long they would last for. Of course there would be reprints.
R’kio laid half curled, with one of the books open beside him and reclined so he could still read. His ears flicked when he heard the gentle snores of Torve. He looked over and slowly and silently stretched out. R’kio rose to stand and walked over to cover Torve with a blanket. R’kio’s steps were quiet, padded by his feet-paws and the fur on them.
He placed a bookmark in the book and sat it aside. A question in his mind still hung. Something Torve had asked. “Why be a jedi at all?” It was the first time R’kio had heard anyone questioned about being a Jedi, at least so bluntly. And he did not expect it from fellow Jedi. This, more than the books, had R’kio’s mind wandering enough for him to forgo a little sleep.