Ezra scrambles to his feet, staring. That endearment's the first hint that memories are in there somewhere; even the bond remaining hadn't completely convinced him. That could be chalked up to natural affinity in the Force.

"I'll - I'll count on it," he replies, voice shaky at the start of the sentence and firming into determination.

Then he retreats into the relative cool of the cave, to eat from his small store of ration pack in his pack, and organize his thoughts.

Vaporators and Jawas, huh? He doesn't know a lot about either topic, but he can figure out most things mechanical with some time and effort, and he can definitely charm locals in the scavenging and trade business.

But as it turns out, he has no visitors for that day. Taking apart the vaporator, cleaning it out and reassembling, is easy enough, although he's not willing to dive into getting more creative with something so vital. He's not a Skywalker.

Back on Lothal, if it wasn't storming, and he didn't have a specific task in mind, he'd often spend the day wandering. Tatooine has so many more hazards, going more than within sight of the cave seems foolhardy, alone, no matter how restless he's feeling - at least for right now, while he's getting acclimated.

By early evening, he's backed into the cooler part of the cave and is trying to burn off some of that fidgeting by going slowly through the open version of lightsaber katas, starting with Shii-Cho and then onto Soresu.