when the light bends to shatter a soul
Noah stepped carefully between the rows as Amhran beckoned him forward. The warmth clung to him now that his cloak was off, the humid air a stark contrast to the screaming storm beyond the glass. “It’s for Safrin.” Noah admitted freely, gaze drifting briefly to the shelves of seeds Amhran gestured toward. He had not yet considered what he might grow, but he suggested, "I know it takes a long time for trees to grow to their fullest, but I think something with as strong of an anchor as a tree would be good, even if I present it to her as a sapling." Noah felt that Safrin might like that, and it felt like him: roots reaching deep, hands reaching for the sky.
He cleared his throat, then. “She’s set terms for a task. I can't use any shifts, abilities, or magical items to do the growing. Which rules out most of the ways I usually solve problems." He let a faint smile break over his lips, glacier eyes glinting as he looked at the demigod again. “So I figured I’d ask the man who actually knows what he’s doing. The most experience I have with growing anything -- beside my kids -- was when we replanted those lilies together.”
He cleared his throat, then. “She’s set terms for a task. I can't use any shifts, abilities, or magical items to do the growing. Which rules out most of the ways I usually solve problems." He let a faint smile break over his lips, glacier eyes glinting as he looked at the demigod again. “So I figured I’d ask the man who actually knows what he’s doing. The most experience I have with growing anything -- beside my kids -- was when we replanted those lilies together.”
Noah
we feel the toll
