[in more cases than not, jyn would find it incredibly irritating to just be handed things like this. and she still does, but when it's food, she's a little more forgiving — or, at least, she's too busy shoveling it into her mouth to do anything else like argue. the food in the castle is consistently a feast, especially compared with what she's been used to for the past six standard months (and also long before that), but it's better out here, somehow.

pretty much everything is better out here.

it's a sentiment, along with the food, that makes her more agreeable to not just arguing for the sake of arguing — because, no, his response isn't stupid, and, yes, he's actually right. still, she can't resist muttering,]

That son of a bantha would love your plan, [around a mouthful of food. she swallows.] Any other ideas, besides avoiding where you're told not to go?

[she'd have more to add, maybe, but that's when she's sidetracked by a call that's definitely headed for them. so much for no one looking their way twice.

and so much for irritation not boiling in her blood.

immediately, she whirls on her heel, marching for the stall with a clenched jaw and hard eyes that don't blink as they regard their target.]

Bet it'd warm you right up, if I threw that cup back in your face.

[the hawker titters out an awkward laugh, along with, oh, miss, i meant no offense!

she's unmoved.]