Blood and dirt. That was the only two things that Anakin tasted after the Battle of Mandalore. He always thought the end of the Clone Wars would be good, he would feel happy. But as he looked at the white-sheet covered clones that were carried passed him he felt the opposite. He made an attempt to look around the battlefield but to no avail was he able to see more than ten feet in front of him, too much smoke and dirt. More injured clones passed him as he walked to the east towards the assumed position of the 501st command tent. Somewhere along his exhausted walk he got turned around, or maybe it was the force that led him away, he couldn't tell.

The dust seemed to get thicker, maybe with grief or maybe it was because this is where the Separatist Army hit the hardest. His ears were ringing, flashes of memories of the battle that was fought just moments ago. Up ahead he saw something, a blurry outline of someone sitting on something, an ammo crate maybe? He pushed forward towards the outline being careful not to step on the bodies of dead clone troopers as he went. He made it up to them and what he was met with was something that he would have never expected, not from her.

She was strong, probably the strongest Jedi Anakin knew. She was calculated and level-headed in battle. For a while, when the Clone Wars started all those years ago a young Padawan Anakin mirrored her mannerisms, it helped him deal with the emotional impact of being trained during the biggest war in the galaxy. For that he always admired her, maybe there was something else sprinkled in there, his mind was always clouded when he thought about it.

If she was so strong, so calculated, why was she crying? why would someone like her cry? Anakin never thought he would see the sight, not that he ever wanted to, he simply just didn't think she could. He took a few steps closer to her form, being as gentle as he could as he kneeled down in front of her.

"You shouldn't be here alone, you know"