Chachanji glanced back and forth between the two taller gentlemen, feeling a bit of a crick in his neck doing so. He absorbed the questions from the both of them, taking on a thoughtful expression as he figured out how to answer. Ultimately, though, he figured being truthful to be the best choice and echoed that with a bit of an overly dramatic sigh.
"I s'pose ya have the right of it," he responded, folding his arms over his tiny chest and tilting his head to one side. "Thanks ta Papa's teachin's, I could tell ya all about how ta temper yerself a blade, but by the Builder could I not tell someone how ta swing one."
The Lalafell let out a little frustrated harrumph, looking out onto the savannah.
"It all sounds so simple, too! Just woosh-woosh!" He emphasized his onomatopoeia with a couple sharp motions of his hand. "But once the baddy's bearin' down on me... I just lose all me wits, y'know?"
The hand that had just stood in as a prop for a sword now swirled about idly, elbow resting neatly in the cupped form of Chacha's other hand. It quickly dropped back down again to rest over the other arm, and Chachanji's naturally dour-looking face darkened a bit more.
"But I wanna be a hero!" he exclaimed with a little upset stomp of his foot, kicking up a small cloud of loose dirt and debris. "I wanna protect people! How am I 'sposta do that if I can't even take on a stupid ol' bug?"
Gran, on the other hand, was a lot less involved in musings on the future. Instead, he was dealing with the fact that Victory's sudden nudge had almost toppled the puny purple porker over. He danced sideways a couple steps before regaining his balance and turning to face the much larger chocobo. His tail whipped about wildly as he gave an upset little snort - as if daring the bird to try that again.
"I s'pose ya have the right of it," he responded, folding his arms over his tiny chest and tilting his head to one side. "Thanks ta Papa's teachin's, I could tell ya all about how ta temper yerself a blade, but by the Builder could I not tell someone how ta swing one."
The Lalafell let out a little frustrated harrumph, looking out onto the savannah.
"It all sounds so simple, too! Just woosh-woosh!" He emphasized his onomatopoeia with a couple sharp motions of his hand. "But once the baddy's bearin' down on me... I just lose all me wits, y'know?"
The hand that had just stood in as a prop for a sword now swirled about idly, elbow resting neatly in the cupped form of Chacha's other hand. It quickly dropped back down again to rest over the other arm, and Chachanji's naturally dour-looking face darkened a bit more.
"But I wanna be a hero!" he exclaimed with a little upset stomp of his foot, kicking up a small cloud of loose dirt and debris. "I wanna protect people! How am I 'sposta do that if I can't even take on a stupid ol' bug?"
Gran, on the other hand, was a lot less involved in musings on the future. Instead, he was dealing with the fact that Victory's sudden nudge had almost toppled the puny purple porker over. He danced sideways a couple steps before regaining his balance and turning to face the much larger chocobo. His tail whipped about wildly as he gave an upset little snort - as if daring the bird to try that again.
