Tormin laughed softly, his voice sounding hoarse and hollow as he walked over to the bar. He paid no mind to the dust. He was sure there was plenty of sand, mud, dirt, and more dust coming off of his boots and his clothes. As he took a seat, he lowered his mask, revealing a pale-skinned face, far too pale to be human, with dark green facial tattoos drawing a pair of lines down from his forehead, following the bridge of his nose before turning away from each other, drawing lines to just below his ears. Without a second thought, he removed the goggle like device that were covering his brilliant green eyes. For a moment he panicked quietly before he took a breath. He shouldn’t be able to breathe here right? This was the same air as the two humans in the hotel. But somehow, he knew that wasn’t a problem.<br/><br/>His thirst brought himself out of his thought process, and he cleared his throat, “I’ll believe you have everything if I can get a glass of Spotchka.” He smiled a bit before shrugging, “If not that... Corellian wine?”