Leia. It had been Leia who'd told her stories about Luke. Other people, too, strangers along the Niima Outpost and such, sharing anecdotes about the great Luke Skywalker that were completely, unequivocally true. But more recently, Leia had opted to give Rey an idea of the kind of man her brother was, and she might have mentioned the word stubborn more than once. Granted, it was usually wrapped in the context of almost as stubborn as me, but Rey had assumed she'd been joking. She highly doubted anyone could begin to compare with Leia Organa's stubbornness.

Of course, Luke was ranking a close second, and she debated - however briefly - actually telling him about the way his nephew had been reaching out to her, in the hopes that it would impress upon him how powerful Kylo had become and how much damage he could potentially do if his abilities grew much more. How else could Luke help her with her problem if he didn't know exactly what the problem was, after all?

But Luke's question distracted her somewhat, and she found herself looking down even as she answered automatically. "My parents." The response usually didn't come so easily and was something she'd always obstinately held close to her chest, but... in light of everything that's happened to her, it almost felt like she was telling someone else's story, like those travelers through the outpost talking about the adventures of the young Luke Skywalker.

"They'd left me on Jakku when I was young, but they'll be back for me one day." The words were hollow, and holding on to that empty mantra hurt more than she'd care to admit. Instead of making any sort of eye contact, she focused her attention downwards, fingers absently digging through the patch of soil on which she was sitting. "This is the longest I've been gone from there. I hope they don't think I've stopped waiting."