Week 7, Day 1, in the darkness of evening
It was going to be all right.
Lo repeated to herself and moved to the wall near the foot of the bed. As much as she tried, her over protectiveness refused to let her go farther. Giving into that instinct, she allowed her this weakness but no more. To prevent her from fretting, she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. The young Bothan carefully observed her master's progress. As Aren helped him upright, she pressed her lips together to silence the worried words.
This was unavoidable. Being a Healer, she knew the importance of these exercises. Bones and muscles were important. During her master's coma, he had lost both muscle mass and bone strength. They couldn't help properly without some work.
When Aren managed to get him fully up on his feet, Lo's breath stilled in her lungs. Her fur flattened out with a nervousness against her will. On instinct, her upper jaw bit the lower lip. A slight sting to distract her from her master's poor condition.
She never sensed the aftershock's approach until it hit.
An violent and sudden force knocked her balance from her. Her arm snapped out to catch herself. IT managed to snag the bed, stopping her from face planting into the stone floor. Darkness washed over them when the few candles in the hut toppled from their perch. Snuffled out by the impact.
As Lo righted herself, only the few crystals illuminated inside. She froze when she heard Master Rothul plead for Aren to lay himself. The padawan's heart stalled from fear. Half risen, her eyes met Aren's. That eye connection broke her spell as she pushed upright then moved toward her master.
Instinctively, she dropped to her knees. Her palms touched to his side and wordlessly she began to focus her spirit into healing him. Her eyes closed and her mind turned inwardly, using the force to guide her skills.