He did not close his eyes. He didn't really need to, and he wanted to watch her. It wasn't as if he didn't get all the input he needed from the Force, but going without for so long, he'd begun to recall the value of his original senses.
That, and when she began talking, he feared that the feedback loop created by her seeing him this way, by the sheer gratitude of recognition, would be overwhelming if he focused only on that. As it was, the warmth she described washed towards her, mingling with his own sense of her, bright and stormy and so raw it almost hurt. The hurt was, however, the kind that made you feel alive and aware, rather than pain. The sort of feeling that reminded you who you were, of muscles and emotions you'd forgotten you had. It was something he could quickly become too accustomed to.
To hear her describe him, define his shape in her world, was a mirror held up to show someone he did not recognize. He didn't feel warm. He felt still and cold and ancient, worn like the rocks below where the surf had eroded them for years. Full of crannies and holes which caught nothing. Stagnant.
He pushed those thoughts away.
"Good. Now. Most Jedi can only sense feelings, emotions. Predict actions if they're imminent. Plant thoughts or actions in those who cannot resist. But with a connection, more is possible. Open your eyes."
He gazed into hers still keeping the vast majority of his private thoughts shielded, but allowing her to use the anchor of his eyes to focus on the thoughts he was willing to share.
"Look at me. Without practice, eye contact can help. Look at me, and try to her what I'm saying. Don't guess."
He formed a clear thought, something she would not predict, that could only have come from him.
no subject
That, and when she began talking, he feared that the feedback loop created by her seeing him this way, by the sheer gratitude of recognition, would be overwhelming if he focused only on that. As it was, the warmth she described washed towards her, mingling with his own sense of her, bright and stormy and so raw it almost hurt. The hurt was, however, the kind that made you feel alive and aware, rather than pain. The sort of feeling that reminded you who you were, of muscles and emotions you'd forgotten you had. It was something he could quickly become too accustomed to.
To hear her describe him, define his shape in her world, was a mirror held up to show someone he did not recognize. He didn't feel warm. He felt still and cold and ancient, worn like the rocks below where the surf had eroded them for years. Full of crannies and holes which caught nothing. Stagnant.
He pushed those thoughts away.
"Good. Now. Most Jedi can only sense feelings, emotions. Predict actions if they're imminent. Plant thoughts or actions in those who cannot resist. But with a connection, more is possible. Open your eyes."
He gazed into hers still keeping the vast majority of his private thoughts shielded, but allowing her to use the anchor of his eyes to focus on the thoughts he was willing to share.
"Look at me. Without practice, eye contact can help. Look at me, and try to her what I'm saying. Don't guess."
He formed a clear thought, something she would not predict, that could only have come from him.
Krayt dragons make poor pets.