Let The Wookie Win

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Location: New Cov Temple
The hum of the training sabers echoed throughout the ancient stone halls of the New Cov Temple. Young Kuhbee, a Wookiee cub, stood in the center of the chamber, his fur bristling with frustration. Sweat dripped down his brow as his small, yet muscular hands gripped the hilt of his lightsaber. He had been at this for hours, trying to channel the Force, trying to control the blade—but nothing was going right.
He had seen the Jedi Masters wield their sabers with such grace, their movements fluid and precise, like water flowing in a calm stream. Kuhbee, however, felt as if he was swinging a large, cumbersome branch through a storm. Every attempt felt clumsy, every motion too slow or too quick.
His lightsaber flickered and sputtered, dimming in his hand as he growled in frustration, his sharp teeth bared. His powerful, yet still-growing body seemed to act against him, and each time he missed his target or lost control, his anger swelled.
Finally, unable to hold it back any longer, Kuhbee let out a loud, guttural roar that reverberated through the temple's stone walls. His eyes narrowed, fists tightening around the hilt of the saber as he threw himself into another strike. But it was no use—he was getting nowhere. The ancient stone floor beneath him rumbled slightly as the roar echoed in his chest. How could he ever be as graceful as the Jedi when his instincts were so different? How could he possibly control a weapon of such finesse when everything inside of him screamed for strength and power?
Kuhbee's fur stood on end, and as his frustration reached its peak, he raised the blade again, hoping this time—this time—it would work.