[ Rey ought to have learned her lesson about answering the call of strange boxes, but something about the soft rosy light had tugged at the piece of her heart that would always be waiting back on Jakku, and suddenly she was. Waiting -- this time for the storm to pass or for night to fall -- whichever one came first.
She'd climbed into the cockpit of the Y-Wing she'd been working on for days now, the one she'd had to literally dig her way into, each morning finding some of her progress undone by the sand. Its nose half-buried, this particular ship was both further afield and smaller than its nearest neighbors, which meant it had been overlooked. Which meant she would be overlooked. Safe, so long as the sand didn't bury her too completely. So long as she was strong enough to make the trip back home without having had a meal since this time yesterday.
I'm not afraid. I'm not.
She curled tighter as the sand buffeted the edges of her hiding place, curled protectively around her bag of meager supplies and tools. Whatever else happened, she couldn't lose those. Even if this trip yielded nothing but a lesson in wasting one's time and energy, she'd be all right so long as she had water and the means to bring something -- anything -- back home with her to trade away for a half-portion in the morning.
As the storm began to fade, she lifted her head cautiously and listened, only to startle violently when something large collided with the side of the ship and sent her scrabbling against the far side of the cockpit and waiting for an attack that never came as the memory faded and left her gasping and wild-eyed as she tried to process the presence of the stranger who'd entered the room. ]
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She'd climbed into the cockpit of the Y-Wing she'd been working on for days now, the one she'd had to literally dig her way into, each morning finding some of her progress undone by the sand. Its nose half-buried, this particular ship was both further afield and smaller than its nearest neighbors, which meant it had been overlooked. Which meant she would be overlooked. Safe, so long as the sand didn't bury her too completely. So long as she was strong enough to make the trip back home without having had a meal since this time yesterday.
I'm not afraid. I'm not.
She curled tighter as the sand buffeted the edges of her hiding place, curled protectively around her bag of meager supplies and tools. Whatever else happened, she couldn't lose those. Even if this trip yielded nothing but a lesson in wasting one's time and energy, she'd be all right so long as she had water and the means to bring something -- anything -- back home with her to trade away for a half-portion in the morning.
As the storm began to fade, she lifted her head cautiously and listened, only to startle violently when something large collided with the side of the ship and sent her scrabbling against the far side of the cockpit and waiting for an attack that never came as the memory faded and left her gasping and wild-eyed as she tried to process the presence of the stranger who'd entered the room. ]