Ibani sits next to him, smiling, then leans against him. Her Force presence relaxes a little, expands, the psychic equivalent of letting your hair down.

The wine is cold and sparkling, the various foods bite sized, ideal for eating with a single hand or feeding to someone else. Ibani's glad that the food is calorie and nutrient dense, now that she's seen that Ben in underweight.

"The breeze feels nice," she says, head on his shoulder. The sunlight filtering through the canopy softens the silver of her hair.