Wolffe opens his eyes, looking up at the familiar face of someone he knows. He doesn't know the man’s name, but he knows he’s safe with the man.
“Wolffe. Are you alright. ”
“Yes.” Wolffe tells the man who let’s out a sharp breath of relief and tugs him forward, onto a hug, one clawed hand cupping Wolffe’s head and neck, holding into him like he’s precious.
Wolffe wraps tiny hands in the fabric of the man’s cloak, holding on when he’s lifted up, balanced on the man’s hip. “Do you know what happened Wolffe?”
“Wolffe.” There’s a pause and Wolffe tilts his head up to look at unblinking optics. “Do you know who I am?”
“You’re safe.” Wolffe says, with all the belief a four year old can muster.
“Oh force.” the man whispers it and hugs Wolffe tightly, loosening his grip when Wolffe squirms. “Do you know who *you* are?”
“Wolffe?” He tries not to make it a question, and then speaks again, with more conviction. “I’m Wolffe.”
“You are Wolffe, yes.” The man agrees. “Is that all you know?”
“I know my desi-my desig…. I know my number, sir.” Wolffe says stuttering over the too long word. “Cee Cee three six three six.”
“Oh force.” The man whispers again and then rests his forehead against Wolffe’s. “My name is Plo Koon.”
“Are you my drill instruct-tor, sir?” Wolffe asks, pronouncing the word carefully.
“I am not.” Plo says it quietly. “But I am your general. And until we get back to the temple, I’m you’re guardian. ”
“Whatssa Guardian?” Wolffe asks Plo who smiles behind his rebreather.
“It’s someone who takes care of a minor until they’re grown.”
“Like a parent?” Wolffe asks in a little voice and Plo feels his heart clench.
“Yes.” He says without pause. “Exactly like a parent.” Wolffe smiles up at him and Plo decides here and now that he’ll throw his lightsaber right at Yoda’s wrinkled green head if he says one word about attachment.