#❝ ᴄʜᴇᴡɪᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ᴜs ᴏᴜᴛᴛᴀ ʜᴇʀᴇ ! ❞ [ chewbacca ]

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han s. ... interstellar smuggler & best friends with chewie, aka chewbacca, his loving doggo.

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Chewie makes a low grumbling sound, some small amount of evident amusement in his tone, before very casually picking up Han. The Wookiee barks down at his friend quizzically. 'Now are you awake?'

Stiff as a board in Chewbacca’s arms, Han grins shakily at his co-pilot before he pauses to exhale, ultimately winded from shock.  Two long legs swing slightly, then haltingly, before they outright start kicking.  Han, belated to realize he’s been hauled off the karkin’ floor like a year old cub, wants nothing more than to bark at Chewie in return.  

What’s he sayin’ ‘Am I awake?’  Han echoes, totally astounded by the ludicrous query.   

Except, he doesn’t have enough breath to voice those thoughts quite yet.  Not when the force of the Wookiee’s arms at his sides, squeezes the very air from his lungs and fails to relent, even when Han is wheezing.  Therefore, Han does the only thing he can do.  He wiggles; Han wriggles and squirms more and more until he’s drawing in a sharp breath, pressures climbing — so, maybe he should’ve thought this out a bit more — his back pops a sequence of cracks, at long last relieving the tension gathered there for sith knows how long. 

 ❝Awh - ya know, Chewie…❞  Han’s sated smile almost reaches his eyes when his feet hit the ground.  The Corellian is simply putty in the Wookiee’s embrace.  ❝I think I could use a nap right about now.❞

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Have you ever tried to learn anything in /spoken/ Shyyriwook? Just in case you and Chewie get separated and you need to talk to a Wookiee who doesn't know Basic?

Scratching an ear, Han narrowed his eyes at the miniature circuit board he’d been working on for the past grueling hour and swung out an arm.  ❝Ain't like Kashyyyk’s lackin’ teachers to teach Basic.  What’s it matter if Chewie an’ I get separated, anyway?  Wouldn't need t’ talk to no-one; I can take care of myself—awh, blast it.❞  Han blew the dust off his work-space with a grumble.  A mere fraction of his attention lost in the exchange and he fried the whole frinkin’ board.  There went a few hundred, hard-earned credits, right outta the porthole.

After a defeated sigh, Han flanked them a sidelong glance, annoyed as if they were the sole reason as to why he’d gone over the same area twice with super-heated plasma, ultimately costing him a pretty unmarked credit chip—or seven.  

A sardonic grin drew lips thin.  Han settled both hands on his desk and pitched forward, dark gaze fixed and cryptic.  ❝’You ever stopped to think about how difficult it is for non-wookiees to speak a language, made up of jus’ hollerin’ your lungs out?  Shyriiwook’s nothin’ but growling an’ howling.  Ever hear a man speak it?  You should.  Might get a kick outta it.  Sounds jus’ like someone’d shot ‘em in the godsdamned knee.❞

Hell-bent on laying down fact, Han continued as he turned back to his work.  ❝Y’know how many words there’re for ‘wood’?  One-hundred and fifty—dependin’ on structure, grain, moisture, and underlying context.  Wookiees have fifteen separate words for ‘violence’.❞

The chip jumped to life between them, startling him as sparks hurled up to his neck.  Han made a face at the circuitry, attempting to revive itself before yanking down his goggles, his patience worn thin.  ❝I ain’t a saint;  I don’t got the patience;  you try it.❞

Although immensely pleased to note the board didn’t completely fry, Han snorted, returning to long overdue repairs.  ❝’Sides, it depends on where that wookiee was from.  Shyriiwook lacks a helluva lot of terminology.  Y’know … semantics—structure most languages ’ve already got.  Chewie can’t talk in Shyyriwook ‘bout any kinda starship maintenance—don’t have the words for it so, he mixes Thykarann with it.  It’s easier for us both that way.❞  Han shrugged.  ❝All ‘n all,  wookiee-speak ain’t meant for a human throat.  Now, go ‘way, will ya?  Can’t you see I’m workin’, here?❞

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Did you already know how to understand Wookiees when you met Chewie, or did you have to figure it out after?

      ❝’Took me a couple years, give ’er take, to really learn it.  I didn’t understand a lick of Shyriwook when I first met Chewie — didn’t know if he was mad or happy more than half the time!  Bares his teeth ‘n looks like he’s ‘bout to eat me — but it turns out that’s his way of showin’ friendliness. ❞  Han looks around before grinning, a tumble of words falling soon after.  ❝Learning Shyriwook wasn’t actually too hard for me; ’s just that Chewie ’s got a way of talkin’ that’s too … formal.  When I’d visited Kashyyyk for the first time ‘n talked to the locals, everythin’ was a whole lot clearer.  I got what they were sayin’ n‘stead of just catchin’ Chewie’s drift.❞  He sniffs and averts his gaze once more.  

      Hazel eyes dart about, as though he’s checking if a certain someone is within hearing range.  A dusty knuckle is swift to skate under his nose.  ❝But if you ask him, ‘m sure he’d spin some kinda loop pastry ‘bout it.  ‘Cause the furball should’ve been an actor with how dramatic he is someti—oh, heya, Chewie! ❞  Han flashes the gray-face a half-chuckle.  ❝I’ll tell ya more some other time, pal.❞