NOAH
Noah’s mouth twitched at the mention of the Blood Moon Festival, the expression somewhere between amusement and discomfort. He leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers loosely wrapped around his cup, streams of condensation rolling over his knuckles. "I went, once." He said, moving glacier eyes ot her brilliant blues.
“It felt… off,” he said, mouth pulling slightly at the corner and his head tilting back and forth ever so slightly, “people weren’t themselves. Or, for some, maybe they were too much themselves.” A faint crease formed between his brows. He huffed a soft breath, shaking his head once as if to clear the lingering unease. “I don’t think I’ll go again. Some things are better observed from a distance, if at all.” The chaotic nature of it, and of the goddess it celebrated, was not appealing to the Sentinel.
“This one’s easier, though. More, hmm, merry." He said, lifting his glass to take another drink of water. Before he knew it, he had emptied the glass. Still thirsty, he reached his hand out towards Lyra as an offer to take, and fill, her water glass as well. "Torchline has its share of parties though, right?" He asked once he returned, offering her back her full and chilled glass. He was content, for now, to sit and talk with the woman in this tent. The distance between their chairs felt safe, and all of the tension he had felt before when she laced her arm in his fell away.
“It felt… off,” he said, mouth pulling slightly at the corner and his head tilting back and forth ever so slightly, “people weren’t themselves. Or, for some, maybe they were too much themselves.” A faint crease formed between his brows. He huffed a soft breath, shaking his head once as if to clear the lingering unease. “I don’t think I’ll go again. Some things are better observed from a distance, if at all.” The chaotic nature of it, and of the goddess it celebrated, was not appealing to the Sentinel.
“This one’s easier, though. More, hmm, merry." He said, lifting his glass to take another drink of water. Before he knew it, he had emptied the glass. Still thirsty, he reached his hand out towards Lyra as an offer to take, and fill, her water glass as well. "Torchline has its share of parties though, right?" He asked once he returned, offering her back her full and chilled glass. He was content, for now, to sit and talk with the woman in this tent. The distance between their chairs felt safe, and all of the tension he had felt before when she laced her arm in his fell away.
I'll follow you down through the eye of the storm
Don't worry I'll keep you warm
Don't worry I'll keep you warm
