Noah
if there's a reason I'm still alive
when so many have died
when so many have died
Noah inclined his head slightly at her thanks, the gesture quiet but genuine. Her words settled easily with him. There was truth in them, in the idea of challenging what you were handed instead of simply carrying it forward without question. It wasn’t the easier path, but it was the one that meant something. He knew Sohalia to be one that challenged ideals if they didn't make sense to ger -- after all, Stormbreak was open to the abandoned because of her. "It helps to talk it through," he said, "most things do."
The fire shifted and cracked between them, sparks lifting and twisting into the darkening sky before disappearing entirely. Noah’s gaze followed them for a moment, thoughtful, but something else tugged at his attention before the quiet could fully settle again. A sound carried faintly across the tundra, stretched thin by distance. It wasn’t quite the wind, though it moved like it, and not quite an animal either. It started to rumble, to deepen, until the hunter recognized it as a distant wail.
He didn’t react immediately, but the change in him was there if someone knew how to look for it. His shoulders drew a fraction tighter, his head angling slightly toward the treeline as his focus shifted outward, instincts sharpening beneath the surface. He hated this screaming, wailing, sobbing rain. The thunder that shook the earth with its mourning.
Noah exhaled slowly, steadying, before turning his attention back to Sohalia. "You spend much time in out at night?" he asked, tone casual enough to pass, though it didn’t quite mask the intent behind it. A faint, almost wry curve touched his mouth. "You know any old stories?" he added, glancing briefly toward the dark beyond the firelight, before urning his glacier eyes back to her.
The fire shifted and cracked between them, sparks lifting and twisting into the darkening sky before disappearing entirely. Noah’s gaze followed them for a moment, thoughtful, but something else tugged at his attention before the quiet could fully settle again. A sound carried faintly across the tundra, stretched thin by distance. It wasn’t quite the wind, though it moved like it, and not quite an animal either. It started to rumble, to deepen, until the hunter recognized it as a distant wail.
He didn’t react immediately, but the change in him was there if someone knew how to look for it. His shoulders drew a fraction tighter, his head angling slightly toward the treeline as his focus shifted outward, instincts sharpening beneath the surface. He hated this screaming, wailing, sobbing rain. The thunder that shook the earth with its mourning.
Noah exhaled slowly, steadying, before turning his attention back to Sohalia. "You spend much time in out at night?" he asked, tone casual enough to pass, though it didn’t quite mask the intent behind it. A faint, almost wry curve touched his mouth. "You know any old stories?" he added, glancing briefly toward the dark beyond the firelight, before urning his glacier eyes back to her.
then I'm willing to
wait for it
wait for it
