Ezra nods, but doesn't take much longer than that before shuffling from the room. He has a big choice to make here and...
It's not going to be easy for him.
...
When he leaves, it's not with any real path to take in mind. The streets are his home, as much as anywhere is these days. He lets his feet wander where they want to go as his mind rolls the problem over and over and over. He trails through the market, looking at the stalls without approaching any of them. (He doesn't need to. He's not hungry. And if he goes with Garth'zel, maybe he won't ever be hungry enough to steal again.) He passes by people he knows by sight, if not necessarily by name. He passes by strangers who still move with the flow of Lothal's streets. (Would he ever see any of them again?) He knows who to avoid, mostly, and can guess who he could maybe beg from. The week before he met Garth'zel proved that that's not a reliable system. None of this is. But it's... something familiar. Something he knows. He doesn't know what his future will be like with Garth'zel.
Eventually his feet take him down an empty street, to a building marked by the Empire for demolition. It's been like that for a few months now, but nothing's actually happened. Maybe they've just forgotten it exists. He stands there, just staring up at the building for a minute as indecision wars within him.
Finally, he pulls a keycard out of his pocket. "Mom... Dad..."
...
It feels like hours (and maybe it actually is) before he makes his way back to the ship. The ramp isn't down, so he sits down to wait, a Lothcat doll clutched to his chest.
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It's not going to be easy for him.
...
When he leaves, it's not with any real path to take in mind. The streets are his home, as much as anywhere is these days. He lets his feet wander where they want to go as his mind rolls the problem over and over and over. He trails through the market, looking at the stalls without approaching any of them. (He doesn't need to. He's not hungry. And if he goes with Garth'zel, maybe he won't ever be hungry enough to steal again.) He passes by people he knows by sight, if not necessarily by name. He passes by strangers who still move with the flow of Lothal's streets. (Would he ever see any of them again?) He knows who to avoid, mostly, and can guess who he could maybe beg from. The week before he met Garth'zel proved that that's not a reliable system. None of this is. But it's... something familiar. Something he knows. He doesn't know what his future will be like with Garth'zel.
Eventually his feet take him down an empty street, to a building marked by the Empire for demolition. It's been like that for a few months now, but nothing's actually happened. Maybe they've just forgotten it exists. He stands there, just staring up at the building for a minute as indecision wars within him.
Finally, he pulls a keycard out of his pocket. "Mom... Dad..."
...
It feels like hours (and maybe it actually is) before he makes his way back to the ship. The ramp isn't down, so he sits down to wait, a Lothcat doll clutched to his chest.