The question made him pause, eyes lifting once more to the stars as if the answer might be written there, but he was really looking for the faintest light of Safrin, of Vi. Each of his skins carried its own language of muscle and instinct, its own way of reading the world. The polar bear had endurance and crushing strength. The lynx had silence. The wolverine had relentless will. The gyrfalcon speed, the longma a half-divine grace, and the griffin was the balance of sky and earth, predator and guardian.
But his life now was not always about power.
“There was one I don’t have anymore,” Noah said quietly. “Reindeer.” The word carried the hush of Halo's snowfields and the sense of belonging to something vast and moving. He let out a breath, a fond exhale of memories burried deep within him. “I miss that sense of patience, of knowing the land would change, and trusting your body to carry you through it.” The Sentinel's eyes shifted back to Lyra, glacier-bright but warm. “The elk is the closest I have to it now. Different, but similar."
Noah took in what she said, the mention of her kids, of a life that had been centered on keeping others safe and then slowly letting them go. He nodded once, understanding in the simple, grounded way of someone who had seen that pattern before. His brows knit together with each word, his eyes not leaving her as she caught him captivated with such deesire and purpose.
“Places like this don’t have regular patrols. No guards, no healers close by. If something goes wrong, help can be days away.” A faint, approving curve touched his mouth. “You don’t need to be the strongest person in Caido to make a difference. You just need to be the one who shows up."
But his life now was not always about power.
“There was one I don’t have anymore,” Noah said quietly. “Reindeer.” The word carried the hush of Halo's snowfields and the sense of belonging to something vast and moving. He let out a breath, a fond exhale of memories burried deep within him. “I miss that sense of patience, of knowing the land would change, and trusting your body to carry you through it.” The Sentinel's eyes shifted back to Lyra, glacier-bright but warm. “The elk is the closest I have to it now. Different, but similar."
Noah took in what she said, the mention of her kids, of a life that had been centered on keeping others safe and then slowly letting them go. He nodded once, understanding in the simple, grounded way of someone who had seen that pattern before. His brows knit together with each word, his eyes not leaving her as she caught him captivated with such deesire and purpose.
“Places like this don’t have regular patrols. No guards, no healers close by. If something goes wrong, help can be days away.” A faint, approving curve touched his mouth. “You don’t need to be the strongest person in Caido to make a difference. You just need to be the one who shows up."
Noah
I am no longer a stone
I can't walk into the shadows alone
I can't walk into the shadows alone
