Faction The Wild Calls [RNR]

[Abel Denko]

NABOO - WILDERNESS
An Order of Shiraya Expedition.

The campfire crackled quietly beneath the soft, amber glow of Naboo’s setting suns. Their light stretched long and gold across the clearing, casting the tall reeds and towering trees into shadows that swayed like specters. Beyond the treeline, the faint outline of an ancient comm tower rose against the horizon — weathered, half-forgotten, but still standing.

Abel Denko stood with his arms crossed, leaning the weight of his thoughts into the hilt of his saber at his hip. His gaze wandered out across the gathered Padawans, reading their faces the way a farmer reads the skies. Some wore the eager eyes of youth, ready for adventure. Some, the tight-lipped determination of those who hated being told what they couldn’t bring. All of them — every last one — had that same spark of potential. But potential alone didn’t keep you alive when the luxuries ran dry.

“I'm not here to scare you,” Abel began, his voice steady, weathered by years of wars fought in alleys and halls alike. “But I am here to tell you that the Galaxy don’t give a damn about which House you're from.”

His eyes fell on a few of the Padawans he knew came from nobility. Names with weight. Names with comfort stitched into every letter.

“Titles won’t build you a shelter. Bloodlines won’t scare off a nexu. When the rations run out and your hands are raw from trying to make a fire, all that’s gonna matter is what you can do with what’s in front of you.”

He pushed off the tree where he’d been leaning and took a slow walk around the fire, glancing at the bags at their feet. Each Padawan carried only what they were allowed: basic field rations, a waterskin, a coil of rope, flint and tinder, a single cutting tool. Nothing more. No comms. No datapads. No tech to lean on. The Jedi Masters on this expedition — himself included — would play the part of the downed and wounded, unable to help beyond words.

“The scenario is simple.” Abel gestured out toward the treeline, toward that lonely spire on the horizon. “Your starfighter crashed. Your Masters are hurt — bad enough that we can’t lend you the Force. Bad enough we’re dead weight if you don’t figure something out.”

He gave them a moment to let the words settle. The only sound was the hiss of the fire and the distant call of a woolamander somewhere high in the branches.

“Your job is to survive. To get help. There’s a tower out there that can call for it — but night’s coming fast, and I promise you, travel after sundown in these parts is a fool’s game.”

Abel crouched, picking up a stray twig and snapping it between his fingers. “You’ll need to make choices. Do you spend the time making shelter? Do you send someone ahead while the rest care for the wounded? Do you find allies in the wild things out here? They’ll listen to the patient hand — and the Force, if you use it right.”

His gaze softened then, the hard edge of the lecture giving way to the heart of why he was here.

“I’m not out here just to see if you can hack it. I’m here because survival teaches humility. It teaches respect. You won’t always have a palace wall between you and the next bad day. But you will always have each other — if you learn how to lean on that.”

He straightened, offering one of those lopsided grins that tended to appear whenever his heart tried to outpace his tongue.

“So. You’ve got your gear. You’ve got your heads. You’ve got the suns till they kiss the ground. What’s your first move?”

The fire crackled on, quiet again — waiting for the next generation to rise up.

---

OOC:
This is a low-stakes, exploration and social thread for members of the Order of Shiraya! Please feel free to write at your own pace and enjoy the scenario. The “crashed ship” and “injured Masters” setup is a prompt to encourage creative problem-solving, team-building, and bonding between your characters. Have fun, collaborate, and don’t stress outcomes — the goal here is to grow together and to have fun!

Spoiler: Order of Shiraya Tags

Briana Sal-Soren
Brandyn Sal-Soren
Lossa Aureus
Kahne Porte
Vizion Trozky
Aiden Porte
Lysander von Ascania
Lily Decoria
Lorn Reingard
Thayze Montserrat
Connel Vanagor
Caltin Vanagor
Ceri Fraissi
Michael Angellus
Phillip Slate
Tasia Palpatine
Seth Denko
Yasima Zyntra
Kestrel Dray
Zhea Nox
Toby Perris

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Abel Denko

At first, Phillip was taking in the sights of the woods around them. A soft, rare smile spreading across his face before he brought himself back into the moment, listening to Master Denko speak. And almost immediately, Phillip's mind shot into overdrive. He liked puzzles, and this was basically one big puzzle at the end of the day. He'd just need to figure out where all of the pieces would fit...

It was good to him that the Galaxy didn't give a damn what House he was from, mostly because he didn't care about those things himself when it came to getting to work. Instead he was focusing on their resources, dividing them up in his head as he glanced over at the other Padawans who were joining him.

"...If any of us are going to be going ahead, those of us who are staying behind should give them some extra supplies. An extra bit of rope, some extra food. They'll be spending much more energy than we'll be caring for the wounded. We don't want to put all eggs in one basket though...and if anyone is going ahead, it should be in groups, or pairs. That way if someone gets hurt, they have someone to help them."

He crouched down to the ground for a moment, running his fingers along the dirt. Phillip was never much of a talker. Not when it came to social things, but planning was something he enjoyed. It was how he'd go through his life most of the time. Making plans for what he was going to do and when. He was already determined that he was going to stay behind. Phillip knew himself well enough that if he went to find the Tower, he'd keep pushing himself even when it would be too dangerous.

"It might be good for the outbound team to also make signs as they go along, to show what direction they've went. A directional arrow carved into a tree for example. We should be careful damaging the foliage around us though. Don't take more than we need from nature..."

Phillip didn't want nature to be destroyed. The beauty of it. In a real life or death situation, it might have been different but this wasn't life or death. He shook his head to focus and prepared to get to work on building some form of basic shelter. Architecture was one of the few artistic mediums that Phillip...wasn't entirely interested in himself. Buildings were buildings. As long as you had the basics, all the fancy stuff didn't matter.

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

After Action Report (AAR)
Pilot: [Michael Angellus]  
Mission Date: [113th Day, 902 ABY]  
Location: [Naboo - Wilderness]  
Aircraft: [X-Wing]  
Mission Type: Personal Development and Training  

---

1. Mission Overview: 
This report serves to document my recent experiences 
and personal growth during my time at the Academy, and 
test them in a survival expedition with the Order of Shiraya. 
The objective was to confront personal challenges, enhance 
my confidence, and embrace the legacy of my father, an 
esteemed Admiral. 

2. Background:  
In the days following joining the Academy, I found myself 
grappling with self-doubt and a lack of direction. I recognized 
that I had been hesitant to step out of my comfort zone, often 
feeling overshadowed by my lineage and the expectations that 
come with it. This self-reflection led me to the decision to join the 
Academy, a pivotal step in my journey toward self-improvement. 
This journey was not just about survival but also about proving to 
myself that I could rise above my insecurities and live up to the 
legacy of my father. It was a transformative experience that helped 
me build resilience and deepen my commitment to personal growth. 

3. Training and Preparation:  
Having grown up in a military environment, I was familiar with the 
rigors of obstacle courses and the discipline required for success. 
My upbringing provided a solid foundation, but I realized that I needed 
to cultivate my own identity and capabilities. The training at the 
Academy has been instrumental in this regard, allowing me to develop 
the skills necessary to stand on my own and face challenges head-on.
This training has not only strengthened my physical abilities but also 
instilled in me the mental fortitude needed to overcome adversity. 
It has been a journey of self-discovery, where I’ve learned to embrace 
challenges and turn them into opportunities for growth. 

4. Weekend Pass and Survival Experience:  
During a recent weekend pass, I was presented with an opportunity to 
participate in a survival experience designed to test our limits and foster 
camaraderie among peers. Initially, I anticipated a standard break from 
training, but I quickly recognized the value of this exercise as a chance to 
prove my mettle—not only to my fellow Padawans and Jedi who might 
have doubted me in the past, but also to myself.The experience pushed 
me to rely on my training and instincts, fostering a deeper sense of 
resilience and teamwork. It was a transformative moment, solidifying my 
confidence and proving that I could thrive under pressure while building 
meaningful connections with others. 

5. Execution of the Survival Experience: 
The survival exercise involved various challenges that tested our 
physical endurance, mental resilience, and teamwork. I approached 
each task with determination, pushing through moments of discomfort 
and self-doubt. The experience was both demanding and rewarding, 
reinforcing my belief that I belong in this environment and am capable 
of contributing meaningfully to the challenges of living in the wilderness 
and test my survival skills. This included navigating unfamiliar terrain, 
sourcing food and water, and adapting to the environment while 
maintaining physical and mental resilience.. 

6. Lessons Learned:
- Self-Confidence: I learned that confidence is built through action. By 
confronting my fears and engaging in challenging situations, I have 
begun to shed the insecurities that once held me back.
- Resilience: The ability to adapt and persevere in the face of adversity 
is crucial. I discovered that I can rely on my training and instincts to 
navigate difficult circumstances.
- Community: The bonds formed with fellow cadets during this 
experience has been invaluable. We share a common goal, and 
supporting one another is essential for our collective success.

7. Conclusion:  
This mission has been a significant step in my personal and
 professional development. I am no longer hiding from my shadow; 
instead, I am embracing the challenges that come with my journey. 
I look forward to continuing my training at the Academy and further 
proving my capabilities as a future fighter pilot.

8. Recommendations:  
- Continue to seek out challenging experiences that push 
personal boundaries.
- Engage with peers to foster a supportive environment 
for growth.
- Maintain a focus on self-improvement and resilience in 
the face of adversity.

[B]End of Report[/B] 
[Michael Angellus]  
[Flight Cadet/Padawan]  
[113th day, 902 ABY]

Journal Entry:
.

If you are reading this, you no doubt read the AAR above. That was what had happened, well the entries you will see upcoming take you through my experiences during the event. As you can see, I joined the Academy, that is where I had been. I was not hiding and pouting, or hiding from my shadow. I realized that I needed self confidence long before anyone else had, but it seemed like no one was able, or willing to help me with this.

That was and is in the past, it does not matter now if it was right or wrong, it was how I felt.
I joined the Academy, following my dad’s footsteps to get the skills and the mindset I needed to prove that I belong among the Jedi. My uncle Caltin brought me here for a reason. Now, I will admit, I was looking forward to a weekend off when we were given this pass, but I received a message on my datapad about this, and though I was reticent at first, I realized this would be a good test of my skills.

So, as I stood at ease there, I listened to this new Master, who didn't even know the man’s name, tell us about the standard survival test. I nod and take it in. Simple enough. Phillip Slate is there, and is already wanting to come up with a plan. I will not take the lead on this as I have not proven myself. They need to know that they can trust me in order to listen to me.

Prudent method. I wish to go ahead. This “tower” is a good plan, but we should not rely on it. We will need more supplies, like water, so finding a river will be important. Not only for that, but to get a sense of bearings as well.

I will admit that I did not expect anyone to agree with me initially, but I have been wrong before.

Abel Denko | Phillip Slate

 

[Yasima Zyntra]

Location: Forests of Naboo
Gear: basic field rations, a waterskin, a coil of rope, flint and tinder, Knife made by father
Tag: Abel Denko Phillip Slate Michael Angellus

​

This should be fun, as much as Yasmina loved the sights and sound of the big city, the forest was her home and there was very little about the forest that caused her fear. Like most people from Eshvika she had been exploring the forests since she was a small child. Right now she still felt like a small child being amongst the youngest here. But Yasima was good at hiding her real age behind confidence and attitude, mostly.

She checked her long hand made machete and clipped it to her waist, that was her chosen cutting tool. She wondered if anyone could have brought a lightsaber, but this was more useful in the bush anyway. The ideas were on point and the priorities made sense.

She raised her hand and spoke up. "Hey all, I'm Yaz, er, Padawan Zyntra. I'll go ahead too, I grew up in the same village as Tasia so I'm good in the forest. Finding water should be pretty easy on Naboo, food too" she laughed. Dig a hole anywhere on this planet and you might find a spring.

"May I ask, Master Denko; will there be additonal non-native threats thrown at us. You said the night was too dangerous to travel, but it's not that dangerous. We do it all the time?" she felt a little awkward challenging the teacher but she wasn't like one of the weird sycophantic political academy students in Theed and Tasia had always encouraged her to speak her mind.

Looking around at her new Shirayan family she wondered who might take her on as a partner in this, she would rather not get left behind doing the healing as it wasn't her forte and would also feel a little like being stuck at the kiddie table.


​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Abel Denko | Phillip Slate | Michael Angellus | Yasima Zyntra

​

Lorn emerged from the underbrush with the slow, deliberate pace of a man who'd just had a moment alone with the trees to relieve himself, and wasn't in any rush to rejoin civilization. He tugged lightly at the hem of his tunic as he walked, brushing away a few stray pine needles that had claimed squatter's rights on his shoulder.

Lorn didn't speak right away. He dropped into a seated sprawl with the grace of someone whose bones had memorized battlefields. His back hit the base of a moss-draped tree with a quiet thud, and he exhaled slowly, like a man who had finally earned the right to do nothing. His saber was unclipped, resting idly in the grass by his hip like a hound that didn't need watching.

He looked over at Yasmina with the ease of someone who had been the young, cocky one once - and survived it.

"Smart question," he said, voice a low murmur. "Brave one too."

Then he leaned back, hands tucked behind his head, eyes on the sky like the conversation was casual and the answer was written in the drifting clouds above them.

"But don't assume that just because you know these woods, you know this forest. There's more than nexu out here. There's time. Cold. Hunger. Doubt. And the little voices that start whispering when you're out past the edge of comfort."

He tilted his head slightly toward her, an eyebrow raised.

"And yes," he added, almost as an afterthought. "There might be other threats. But if I told you exactly what, you wouldn't be learning."

With that, Lorn shut his eyes and smiled faintly, the smile of a man who had just handed a riddle to a group of students and planned to enjoy their struggle.

Let them make their shelters. Let them argue over rope and rations and which way the moss grew on the trees. For tonight, Lorn was injured. Useless. And just comfortable enough to enjoy the chaos.

 

[Abel Denko]

NABOO - WILDERNESS​

Abel listened. He let the words move through the circle without interruption, arms folded, weight leaned again into the hilt of his saber like a pillar holding steady against the tide.

Phillip’s head for planning. Michael’s need to prove himself. Yasmina’s confidence, her challenge. Lorn’s easy, worn wisdom.

Good.

They were thinking. Feeling it out. Testing the ground beneath their feet before charging in.

But then the fire popped, sharp against the silence, and Abel straightened.

“Some smart thoughts already,” he said, his voice steady but low, rough around the edges like a blade worn hard by the whetstone. His eyes roamed the gathered faces — the quiet ones, the thinkers, the bold ones unafraid to speak first. But he was speaking to all of them. The ones who’d stepped forward, and the ones who were still waiting to decide if they would.

“The difference between a leader and a loudmouth is whether or not anyone will follow you. Don’t mistake hesitation for weakness. Some of the wisest souls I’ve known kept their mouths shut till they were sure of their footing. There’s courage in knowing when to speak—and when to listen.”

He paced the circle again, the way a lion might circle the perimeter of its den, slow and deliberate. His eyes never stayed too long on any one of them, but none escaped his gaze.

“Yasmina asked a fair question.” His chin lifted, gesturing toward the treeline. “This is Naboo. But the Galaxy’s never been kind enough to play by the rules you know. I said night’s a fool’s game out here because I meant it. Predators don’t give a damn where you grew up — and neither does fear. The cold won’t care how many titles your House keeps. Hunger won’t stop to ask your name.”

He paused, planting his boots shoulder-width, letting the weight of his words hang.

“I’ve seen Padawans die,” he said then, plain. No theatrics. No poetry. “Two of mine. Thought they had time. Thought they’d get another shot at the lesson. They didn’t.”

Abel’s jaw clenched. His hands fell to his sides, fingers curling once, then easing again as he forced the breath back into his chest.

“I won’t bury another one of you because you didn’t learn to respect the first enemy you’ll always face: the wild.”

His eyes softened, but only just.

“This isn’t punishment. This is a gift. You’re out here with a net beneath you. Use it. Make mistakes now—because out there,” he jerked his chin toward the horizon, “when the Galaxy comes for you, there won’t be a Master waiting in the wings to pick up the slack.”

He crouched by the fire, plucked up a stick, and jabbed it into the dirt between them.

“Phillip had the right of it. Group up. Think about supply lines. Think about fallback plans. Michael, I hear you. But pride and good intentions won’t carry you to the tower. You want to go ahead? Convince the others why you’re worth trusting with that role. Yaz, you know the land—don’t just tell me. Show me. Pick your partner wisely.”

Then his gaze lifted again, burning bright beneath the dusk light, and swept over the rest.

“And the rest of you — I know more than a few are waiting for the perfect plan to fall in your lap. It won’t. Plans break. What matters is whether you move when they do.”

Abel stood, shoulders rolling back as if shaking off the weight of the memories pressing at him.

“You’ve got your scenario. You’ve got your gear. And you’ve got us Masters, too hurt to lift a saber, sitting right here to remind you that this is as safe as it’s ever going to be.”

The lopsided grin returned, faint but honest.

“Now stop waiting for permission. Move.”

The fire hissed again, and Abel’s gaze held steady — waiting to see who would rise first.​

Lorn Reingard + Phillip Slate + Yasima Zyntra + Michael Angellus​

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Abel Denko Michael Angellus Lorn Reingard Yasima Zyntra Seth Denko

He was already on the move. Phillip was getting into the zone...But all of a sudden he stopped, as something Abel said sunk in for him. Predators. Cold. They could build a shelter all they want, but that wouldn't be the best choice. A fire needed to be made first, because then they could decide where things needed to be placed. Where the wounded could be put, where the sleeping spaces should be placed. And the fire would help to keep away any predators...

"I'm going to work on collecting some firewood. It'd be helpful if I wasn't the only one. Think we should be focusing on dead and dry wood the most. When it comes to shelter building, it might be best if we use the trees around us, instead of just using dead wood."

With that, he pointed out some of the various trees around them which seemed decent enough for a shelter to be put in place. Spots where they could put up ropes or make some kind of structure to a shelter. They weren't orders though, in fact they weren't even requests. They were suggestions. Phillip had never seen himself as leadership material. He had always been a follower and done what people had told him to do. But he never wanted to tell people to do anything. People could make their own choices, he'd just offer his opinion if he thought it was needed, or a suggestion.

"I also think it might be best if we keep at least one nature expert here. It might be boring for them, but they'll be a valuable asset to make sure we don't get food poisoning. We need to play to our strengths and our weaknesses. Compliment them. It could be as simple as pairing the smaller amongst us with the larger, or those with strength and those with knowledge together."

Phillip was already working on make a firepit, finding various bits of stones to place around in a circle at where he thought was a good enough space to have as the centre of camp. It'd have decent sightlines, and it should be good enough to keep some predators away at the very least. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was a plan at the very least for him to work towards.

"If it wasn't clear by the way, I plan on staying here. I don't have the practical knowledge, nor the confidence to head out. If anyone needs some extra hands, just shout for me."

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

Journal Entry:
.

My parents taught me a lot growing up about respect.

Respect is earned, not given.

Respect your elders.

Respect the Station.

Respect the Uniform

Respect the Chain of Command.

Sensing a pattern here?

I get it, “Hairband” here read my jacket. He read how I was a whiny wuss, and probably got input from others like Knight Reingard sitting over there. I get it. I have to change hearts and minds, I get that, that is on me.

My problem is. He referenced my desire to prove myself and so on? Where did I say, or portray that? I’ll tell you, I didn’t. I was just standing here, and offered to be one to “go”. Yes, I was thinking about it deep down, but that is about as close to portraying it as anything. That means the Schutta read my mind, and that is Bantha(censored).

I didn’t react to any of it, not even in the slightest look, I won’t give any of them the satisfaction. I’m just going to agree that those not participating in this are “useless” and be on my way.

All I need is a cutting tool. I’ve done this sort of thing before, so I am going to take advantage of the sunlight while we have it. I will be careful what trees I cut arrows into. Offering the rest of “my” things, I went to leave, but waited to see if the other one, “Yasima” wanted to go or not.

Abel Denko | Phillip Slate | Yasima Zyntra | Lorn Reingard

 

[Yasima Zyntra]

Location: Forests of Naboo
Gear: basic field rations, a waterskin, a coil of rope, flint and tinder, Knife made by father
Tag: Abel Denko Phillip Slate Michael Angellus Lorn Reingard

​

Yasima couldn't decide whether they were praising her question or passing judgement on her self-asuredness her lips pursed in contemplation about the matter. At least she had an answer, she should not expect these forests to be as she would usually expect them. They had done something to dial up the difficulty, that made sense, she still didn't fear the wilderness but would give it the respect it deserved.

“I’ve seen Padawans die,”

She opened her mouth to make a wise crack about survival of the fittest, but thought better of it. She was meant to be making friends not putting people off with her set of values. She was too good to die like this, she knew that, and if she was wrong, then it was the will of the Force to weed her out, she knew that too.

When Phillip Slate mentioned pairing the smaller ones with the larger ones back here she shot him a glance thinking he was talking about her and her not even quite five feet teenage frame. She looked around and spotted another padawan who was also bigger than her, how useful.

All I need is a cutting tool. I’ve done this sort of thing before

"Want to team up? I've got the knife dad made me, I'm big enough to use it properly now." she laughed, remembering when she had been much smaller and first handed the machete, she looked more like one of the warriors with oversized swords she remembered from her brother's Atrisian animations.

"Knife; check. Rope; check. Provisions; check. Flints; check; the look?" she made a goofy pose "Check that too."

The other padawan looked like he was all ready to leave so Yaz stopped goofing around and followed. She began walking backwards for a few steps and called back to the others as they left camp. "We'll send up smoke if we stop for camp so you know where we are yeah! May the force be with you."

​

 

[Isla Reingard]

​

Isla hadn't said a word through the whole firelit exchange. Not during Abel's speech, not when Lorn spoke like a river smoothed stone, and not even when Yasmina threw in her cocky grins and confidence. She just listened - still, quiet, unreadable.

She moved like a shadow cast by something thoughtful, no rustle, no snap of twigs, until she was standing beside Phillip, watching him line the firepit with stones. She crouched down next to him without saying anything at first, mirroring his posture. After a moment, she tilted her head just slightly, her voice low and soft enough that it barely rose above the crackle of the fire.

"If you want to pair up, I'll stay." she said. Flat. Not awkward, not shy - just... fact.

She didn't make eye contact at first, letting her gaze settle on the shape of the camp instead: the patterns forming in the group, the empty space near the wounded Masters, the shadows stretching longer now under the dying light.

"I can feel the weather turning," she added. "Not in the Force. Just the wind and the birds. There's a stillness coming. That usually means rain, maybe by morning."

She finally turned her eyes toward Phillip then - not sharp, not challenging, just searching.

"So we need to keep the fire dry. Build a lean-to over it, use bark or broad leaves. Shelter the wounded first. Then food."

Her fingers absently traced a spiral in the dirt, something unconscious. Then she said, with the brutal honesty of someone who didn't know how to do anything else:

"I'm not strong. I'm not fast. But I know when things are going to go wrong. Most of the time. So if you want someone to help keep things steady, I'm here."

Then she shrugged, like none of it mattered. Like she was just offering him a spare piece of string.

"It's your plan. I'll help if you want me to."

And just like that, she started gathering twigs, quietly, like she'd already been chosen.

Abel Denko | Phillip Slate | Michael Angellus | Yasima Zyntra​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Abel Denko | Phillip Slate | Michael Angellus | Yasima Zyntra

​

Lorn hadn't said much since his earlier reply - a fixture at the edge of the firelight, half-shadow and half-listener, his body at rest but his mind roving across every word and every silence between them.

He watched the camp take its first, shaky breaths of purpose: Phillip stacking stones with methodical focus, Michael storming off with pride in his spine, Yasmina slipping between sarcasm and sincerity like it was second nature. Lorn took all of it in - the bickering, the planning, the tentative teamwork - but his gaze kept drifting back to one figure in particular.

Isla.

She moved quietly, the way she always had - a ghost among voices. But there was a difference now. For the first time since she'd arrived, since her mother's records had handed him the truth in brutal ink, that she was his, he saw her choose someone. Not just to help. To stand beside.

He watched her crouch beside Phillip, her voice low, her body language open but unassuming. His heart ached in a way he didn't entirely know how to name - pride, maybe. Or regret. Maybe both. The distance between them felt longer than before he rescued her. But still, she was here. Trying.

That was more than he'd dared to hope for.

Lorn sighed quietly and shifted, pushing up from his lean against the tree. His knees popped in that old, unfriendly way they always did when he stood too fast. With one last glance at Isla, he stepped around the edge of the firelight and came to stand beside Abel, the fire casting flickers across both of their faces.

"You've got a good voice for this," Lorn said, his tone quiet, like everything else about him. "The kind that sticks with them."

He crossed his arms loosely, glancing out at the Padawans once more before adding, "Been leading these kids through the wilderness a few months now. Thought maybe I was the only one stubborn enough to think these lessons still mattered."

His eyes met Abel's then, steady and tired, but with a flicker of gratitude there, the kind men like Lorn didn't waste on flowery speeches.

"So," he said, voice warm now, "thanks for being stubborn too."

 

[Abel Denko]

Abel watched them move.

Not all at once, not in a rush—but like a fire catching at the edges of dry kindling. A spark here. A flicker there. Until the thing was burning steady.

Phillip, down on the ground, hands working stone and soil like a man who knew how to build something that could last. Isla at his side—quiet, sure, eyes on the horizon even while her hands worked the dirt. Michael, strong but not reckless, pausing just long enough to see who would follow. And Yasmina—grinning—but ready to put in the work where it counted.

Good.

Abel’s arms folded again shoulders loose but steady. “Smart moves,” he said at last, breaking the quiet. His voice carried just enough to reach them without cutting through the calm they’d started to build. “Two teams. Two plans. One camp to come back to.”

His eyes followed Michael and Yasmina as they made ready to head out, and this time his voice softened, a thread of approval beneath the rough edge.

“Looks like the two of you have a good head for it. Trust your footing. Trust each other. That’ll carry you farther than any map.”

He gave a small nod, the kind a man offers to warriors on their way. As they moved off, Abel’s gaze stayed on their backs for a breath longer than it needed to, thoughtful beneath the calm.

Steady hands, sharp minds. Let’s see how they hold up when the path turns mean.

His eyes drifted upward then, quiet, searching the darkening sky until they found the lone shape of an eagle riding the thermals high above. It had been circling wide, content to drift — but as Abel watched, the bird’s path began to tighten, its arc drawing slowly, deliberately, in the same direction the young scouts were headed.

Abel said nothing. He only watched.

When Lorn’s voice rose beside him, Abel didn’t look right away. He let the other man’s words settle between them like old boots beside the fire.

Only when Lorn finished did Abel glance his way, one brow lifted just enough to show the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Stubborn’s about the kindest thing anyone’s called me this week,” he said, voice low enough for Lorn alone.

His eyes drifted back out across the camp—the Padawans, the "wounded" Masters, the trees standing like sentinels in the deepening dusk.

“Still,” Abel added, softer now, “feels good to know I’m not the only old bastard out here who gives a damn. Here's hoping they have never have to use what they're learning from us.”

It was wishful thinking, but a man could hope. The smile didn’t last long—but the warmth behind it stayed.

Lorn Reingard | Phillip Slate | Michael Angellus | Yasima Zyntra | Isla Reingard​