"If I have poor language, it came from listening to Skyguy," Ahsoka announced from the doorway to the room, that familiar grin that heralded either happiness or mischief – or both, in equal and troublemaking amounts. A shoulder against the doorframe, keen eyes watched the Skywalker family with a warmth and affection that was hard to hide, one Ahsoka was still learning it wasn't necessary to hide, as the rules here were different.
Though her stance was casual and her tone as playful as ever, there was that usual hesitance beneath it, of interrupting something that was family time and thus private, so she made no move to step into the room until invited or indicated in some other fashion. She might happily involve herself in many things, but with this the little Togruta still felt uncertainty, one she tried to conceal with her usual gregarious air.