"Ration pellets." Did she just touch his hand on purpose? Should he do something in response? What if it wasn't on purpose? "Right. The war. Constant missions. That must be tiresome with no reprieve at the Temple."
The Jedi weren't meant to be soldiers. Long campaigns of battle would wear on warriors who could feel what every soldier on the battlefield was feeling. Who would feel every death, military and civilian. That the war was coming gave him a chill every time he was reminded.
Though he was little more distracted from it than usual by the warmth of her hand and that brush of her fingers. Had it been on purpose?
"Perhaps something fresh, then. They have a sort of eggs here. I'm not sure what animal they come from. Fruit." He glanced over at her. "Does that sound... agreeable?"