Rylos listened as the youngling gave her two creds. He was surprised that someone her age was confident enough to suggest a course of action to her elders, let alone given the gravity of their situation. He was also curious as to how she seemed to have such a good understanding of the Underworld; she said that she “hated” it but he could feel within her a mixture of other emotions too, like pain, fear and even a hint of humiliation. He pondered if her partially cybernetic hand was somehow a result of whatever she had experienced in the dark bellows of Coruscant. He might have dwelled on the topic more had his attention not then been drawn back to Master Worror as he gave his directions.
"Once I am done look for my lightsaber. When you see it, one of you jump. The next person shall wait until the flash of my lightsaber again."
Gunmetal blue eyes watched cautiously as the leathery old Ithorian gracefully flopped over the edge and plummeted to the level far below. Jedi or not, it was still an odd sight to see, especially when performed by someone of such an age. Rylos even found himself almost instinctively grasping at Worror with the force as he dived, but was able to resist the urge.
“Did he make it alright?” Rylos asked, the intonation revealing a sense of worry. The question was poised at T’ish, who stood nearest to the edge and seemed ready to follow suit. Without waiting for an answer, Rylos then turned to the younglings and spoke in as reassuring a tone as he could muster “I’ll go last and make sure you both get down safely.”