Noah Olson We all want something to hold in the night We don't care if it hurts or we're holding too tight
Life seemed to be getting back to normal for the Olson man. The hunting was good, and his stores were looking hopeful for the coming DeepFrost. He moved from Snowcloack closer to the Citadel, trading along his route with some of his regulars. Today, he scored well. He traded away some dried meat and fat for candles for a bottle of tonic. It made him think of Phoebe, and he decided he would need to visit her soon. For the same trade he was also able to garner some leather and fur. It had come from the luxere that the meat was from, so it was only fair.
Satisfied with his haul, the hunter turns to head home.
But as he turned, he instantly bumped into another. Traffic was higher than it had ever been, now that the portals were open. His eyes flicked towards the woman, the stranger, body tightening and hardening some. It was not unusual for someone to shove you harder once you'd bumped into them in Halo, even if it was a mistake. Untrustful people were often defensive people, and sometimes the best defense was a good offense. Noah was thankful that this woman did not reach up to shove him. "I'm sorry, miss." He smiled some, apologetic and kind. He noticed the children on her heels, like chicks following a hen. He smiled at them, too. |
