It was hard for Kanan to hear the Master brush so easily the time since the war had ended. That time, until he was found--saved perhaps even--by Hera, had been the hardest in his life. The loneliness, the restlessness, the anger, the sadness, no matter how hard he had tried to shed it all, it had never left him. He had to forsake all he had ever learned, the way of the Force, in order to survive, and here the older man was speaking as if none of the Jedi's demise had fazed him.

"Maybe it's because there's so few of us left." The dry reply left his lips before Kanan could really think of it. Perhaps this was the difference between him and Obi-Wan: he was quick to judge the man, and unable to reign in his emotions, his bitterness mostly.

Frustrated with himself more than anything else, Kanan ran a hand over his face:

"I'm sorry. Most Force-sensitive adults have been killed in the years following Order 66. And kids are taken away by the Empire, and they are either never seen again, or turned to the Dark Side." And turned into Inquisitors who hunts the remaining of the Jedis. Kanan had killed one, but with the discovery of a Sith Lord, he had no doubts that more would come after him and Ezra.