*Drey sits in a corner of a cantina, drinking some caf*
*all of a sudden a few Grans run into the cantina and start throwing thermal detonators*
Drey: WHAT THE HELL?!!?!?!?
*Drey force jumps out of his chair, and uses speed and activates his teal colored single bladed lightsaber, swings at each of the grans heads, and force pushes them and their thermal detonators out the door, a loud explosion is heard, and the entrance to the cantina is caved in and nobody can get out, well for the moment at least*
Drey: damn it....
*Drey wanders back to his small corner of the cantina, and uses the force to grab another drink from the table, not giving a **** whose watching him*
Battle is a pure form of expression. It is heart and discipline, reduced to movement and motion. In battle, the words are swept away, giving way to actions-- mercy, sacrifice, anger, fear. These are pure moments of expression.