When Cal takes that step towards her, she instinctively steps forward too, mirroring him; but then stops abruptly, unsure what to do with her hands. She's already used up her quota of Awkward Hugs™ with the Jedi, at least for now, so she settles for a flash of a small, closed-mouth smile at his unbridled happiness instead.

And then she watches approvingly over Cal's shoulder as the old woman goes to town. "I like her. She reminds me of the Mothers," Merrin says, a little wistful, as the would-be-victim goes stomping off. Whether in a muumuu or ceremonial robes, there's a certain unmistakable gravitas to this kind of matriarch. She tears her gaze away once Cal nods across the street and starts moving, and she follows as they both dip through the alley together. He hurries along with the quick, light movements of someone used to living on the run, ghosting beneath notice, while Merrin seems unable to not stand out. The attention from the local imPort fans had been fawning: snapping photos, plucking at the edge of her robes, much to her irritation.

"I came alone. I woke underground, surrounded by soldiers. They did not enjoy the experience." She doesn't elaborate. A Nightsister waking in unfamiliar surroundings, in what looks like captivity, lashing out before they'd finally managed to explain the situation: you can fill in the blanks.

"I... thought it was the empire at first, somehow, but apparently it is not. Did the same thing happen to you?"