Din was sitting in the Razor Crest, legs apart as if just teasing you. He doesn’t seem to notice you at first, distracted with his rifle. “You good?” Din asks, confused. His helmet is still on like it always is. You nod in response.

He nods back, legs still apart. He adjusts in his seat now, his hips rise as he fixes his posture to be more sloppy. Feet almost under the chair, knees apart, hips up but not very high.