Unused to idleness, Obi-Wan makes use of the training grounds, practicing forms and velocities with which he's most familiar (and likely appear somewhat strange to the locals) with the nonlethal weaponry provided. Simply because he's no longer in the thick of it is no reason to let decades of training lose their edge. He'll happily enough instruct anyone that expresses curiosity or an eagerness to learn- especially Form three, as it's primarily defensive in nature. Sparring, also, comes easily to him- but habit more than anything else has him offering constructive critique between bouts-

And on occasion during.

The obstacle course, now, has been where he's spent most of his early mornings and afternoons if only for the extra coin it can potentially provide. Underselling what he's capable of and performing just ahead of what's expected enough to earn pocket change while he comes to a choice about joining up or not may be a little unkind- but no more than the assumptions made. Besides. It's not like he's rigging gambling in earnest, and even if he was- he learned it from his Master. When needs must, indeed.

"Hello there." As solemnly cheerful and calming Obi-Wan attempts to be while visiting the hospital, it's somewhat difficult to maintain one's dignity when there's a fluffy, winged felined creature burrowed into his shoulder, chewing on his hair. Obi-Wan's grown accustomed to this quirk of the creature, and remains unruffled and unbothered as he makes his way through the halls to untangle and deposit the determined little Leosylph upon whoever is in most need. He lingers to offer commentary, quiet company, and the odd fondly chastising sigh for the little moppet, collecting the kit when both patient and problem have tired before moving along to the next, whereupon the kit perks right up for another round of gnawing playfully on fingers and burrowing in to purr and be pet.

Later he can be found sitting quietly where the Leosylphs are kept, covered in them while meditating, only half his focus on keeping them from taking a tumble off his knee or shoulder and, yes, enduring several more rounds of his hair being gnawed upon.

Obi-Wan bides his time attempting to reconnect with The Force by finding somewhere quiet and nondescript to meditate- and if that so happens to be the newly crafted memorial gardens- so be it. With what he can feel he tries, though it has never truly been his skill, to nudge the plant life there to flourish, or at the very least offer encouraging energy. The Living Force never was his specialty.

When not in the gardens he seeks information, unobtrusively, by using coin earned in the training grounds to get a drink and listen in at the local tavern. Something has gone horribly awry- and that bears no little consideration. Better to learn all he can from those present for it before drawing his own conclusions.

The very notion of a portal or transport one can simply walk through is deeply curious to Obi-Wan, provided he wasn't awake in truth for his summoning. Taking the time to pass through while fully conscious to make notes on how it feels and what he can sense even with his diminished connection to the Force is one of the first few deeply normal things he feels he's been able to manage. It's far less dangerous than other events where he'd been struck with curiosity that could be detrimental to his own health, and seems safe enough.

Finding troubles on the other side of the portal is worrying, but- this is something he knows how to do. Manual labor is tedious, mind numbing, and almost meditative to a degree- and the work needs to be done. He is fit, people are in need, it takes no time at all for him to find himself taking down tents and packing up medical supplies, doing his best to be of assistance without complaint.