[ This time he sees her past, clearly. As if it was his own. He sees the money exchange hands, her parents walking away--

A pauper's grave for a couple of drunkards.

How long had she been waiting for the dead to return to her?

And then she's on the floor, collapsed in front of him and-- there's guilt and worry and feelings so strong they steal his breath. He leans over her and nearly touches her again - then thinks better of it. He reaches out a hand and a pair of gloves come rocketing to his fingers. They're slid on deftly before he puts a hand to her back. Trying to soothe her. ]

The Force has it's own will, it works through living beings. [ He's trying to remember the words Luke offered him when he first came. ] Some people-- simply have more potential than others.

[ The best way to put it for the moment. He doesn't want to scare her with the possibility that she could be much more powerful than she ever guessed.

And that the triggering event was meeting him. ]

Try to slow your breathing and clear your head. It will help.