Noah
if there's a reason I'm still alive
when so many have died
when so many have died
Noah gave the woman a once over as she spoke, ready to step into the ring when she asked. A smirk brightened his features for a moment as he followed her out onto the training floor. A few murmurs and chuckles sounded from the soldiers standing around who knew Noah. While they might not have sparred with the stranger, the hunter held no hesitation. She was not an enemy -- as far as he could tell -- and it was easy to see that this place was designed to practice skill. He knew others would step in if, for any reason, this woman decided to turn a friendly spar into a brawl.
He grabbed a spear from a stand on his way out and shed his outer layer before facing the woman in the middle of the arena. Noah lifted the spear and lowered his center of gravity, rolling evenly on his feet as he watched her. She held her mace like she knew how to wield it well, and part of him wished he had grabbed a shield along with the spear. At this point, it was too late, and at the risk of looking cowardice. Noah would not stand for that. He was an Olson. A hunter of the Halovian tundra -- that alone held bravery. He nodded to the stranger, and awaited her attack.
then I'm willing to
wait for it
wait for it
