[relatable. poe learns a little more about things not being what they seem every day. he'd really like for things to be exactly what they seem, so he can get in an x-wing and blow them up. but he has no x-wing, just a black and white moral dichotomy that keeps getting progressively more smudged up with gray.]

Yeah. [he nods to himself, repeating] Yeah. It was pretty reasonable. I think ... once you get in your own head thinking about this sort of thing, it's hard to stop, you know? You start looking for things that probably aren't even there.

[like the conflict he was so sure was going to happen in hanabira when there was a political marriage and everyone lived happily ever after instead.

the vulphytes come back with the moss ball, dancing around their feet and ready to go for another round of fetch. poe looks down at them, distracted enough to smile. they're so cute it should be criminal. seriously, why can't they bring them back to headquarters tho.]

You can throw this time, if you want — [he pauses as he realizes] — did I get your name?