"Master, do I look pretty?"
Vrook looked up from his work and frowned at his padawan. Nine year old Bastila Shan was standing in the doorway hesitantly, her grey eyes flicking to the spots just over his shoulders. Vrook was silent for a long moment while he digested her question, then asked, "And what prompted you to think about such a thing, padawan?"
Bastila blushed and looked down, avoiding his harsh gaze, "I was just thinking about it, master. I heard a few older boys call a girl pretty."
Her master scoffed and shook his head, "Banish such thoughts from your head Bastila. Thoughts like those are not fit for a jedi, especially one as talented as you."
"But why, master?" Bastila asked curiously. She looked a little hurt, and Vrook felt a slight hint of guilt, but he ignored it.
"Vanity can lead to arrogance and ultimately to the dark side. It is the duty of the jedi to be peaceful and humble. We are bringers of the peace, Bastila, and being such does not require good looks. I would advise you think on this in your meditation, Bastila."
The look on Bastila's face for a second was that of resentment and intolerance, and for the smallest of moments, Vrook felt the sensation of a hand on the back of his neck. Then, the feeling was gone, and Vrook was left shaken in his chair, eyeing his student carefully. Bastila didn't appear to recognize what had happened, and she slowly bowed, and began to walk out of his room. "Bye master," She muttered back over her shoulder.
Vrook saw her shoulders slump, and his frown became more severe, but more out of worry than discontent. That feeling that he had detected from Bastila, it was that of the dark side, and he had felt it around her for a moment, pawing at her. The old master gritted his teeth, he would not allow the dark side to claim his padawan. He left his office and found Bastila still trudging down the hallway at a slow pace, "Bastila!" He called, and she turned, "Come here, please."
She did as she was told, looking confused, "Yes master? Did I do something wrong?"
"Er, no," Vrook shifted. He felt uncomfortable saying the words, but it was to late to stop, "I simply wanted to say that you look. . . nice today."
For a few seconds, Bastila simply stared at him with wide eyes, and Vrook winced at the corniness and hypocrisy of what he'd just uttered. He opened his mouth to say something else, but got no chance, as Bastila suddenly burst into a fit of giggles and ran off, happiness practically bursting off of her in waves.
And despite her failure to control her emotions properly, all Vrook could do was secretly smile to himself.