Ahsoka's first breath of freedom smelled of speeder exhaust and petrichor. Her first real breath of freedom. Not the trips away from the Temple for weeks on end, only to return to solitude from the rest of the galaxy again. Real, tangible freedom that she could feel weighing down on her shoulders - the fact that the only person she was responsible for was herself. The only person she could really count on was herself.

Before, her freedom had been restrained. She'd be out one day, helping and trying her absolute best to be a good person, and then be sent back to the Temple, isolated. Once her missions ended, Ahsoka would end up right back where she started, as if the Force were to say, "Silly girl. You can't have that," in regards to her freedom. But now control was hers. Her first real breath of freedom seeped in through her lips, the authenticity of it shaking the girl to her core.

She took off running, both physically and spiritually, into the void of the unknown, away from her past and away from her future, as she feared them both. Her first step into freedom was so refreshing, so emancipating that there seemed no ground to walk on. She wasn't happy or sad, jubilant or melancholy. She was just… free.

But freedom came at a cost: the crushing realization that she was completely, utterly, undeniably alone.