''Tionne Thanewulf.'' the ginger-haired female replied casually, giving the feral-looking man nothing more than a fleeting look. Slight discomfort brushed up her spine when his eyes lingered more than what was considered polite; the Knight sulked, hiding her tender physique behind the gleaming orange tapestry that was her waist-long hair. Suddenly, she missed her customary Jedi robes and the layers of fabric that could be put between her skin and the outside world. However, this was not the time to wear distinct Jedi markings; she had fallen out of the habit of wearing them whilst serving as Jedi Watchman in the Clone Wars. Still, her own appearance often made it hard for her to completely blend in.

''I used to be. I don't know if I am one now. All seems out of place, hardly resembling the Order...and the world I knew.'' she stated, melancholy thriving in her tone. Her stone-coloured irises grew more gloomy as she absentmindedly reached for her glass.

''The Order is no longer - and its remnant now loiters in space. Perhaps it is best if the Masters of the Old did not survive to see this...for all they could do is weep on their friend's unmarked graves...'' she finalized poetically, her hand naturally reaching down into her pocket, searching for her pipe. But there was nothing there - but a reflexive habit - a remnant of another time.