alone with my thoughts

the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't

I'll have this all delivered to yer da, then? Rusty suddenly asks, his voice yelling from the depths of the store. the lumberjack didn't really bother for an answer before the pair could hear him shouting out orders to his workers. Apparently, there was no in between for the red-headed man: he was either grumbling and grunting, or yelling. While he was loud, or grumbly, Rusty never seemed angry. Noah liked that about him.

"I've never been much for music, myself." Noah shrugged a little, and moved forward to walk away from Rusty's shop. He was confident that the redhead would send his workers with the haul of supplies Glas had ordered. "You ever make any weapons?" He turned to watch the younger man as they walked through the streets filled with other vendors. He felt like the Westfall was a deer -- any slight movement or noise that was just too much would send him flying off, back to the shelter of what he knew. "I mean, like bows and arrows and such?" Because if he had, Noah might be interested in some trade today, too.

"You tell me if any of those guys give you any shit when you go back to fix that table." Noah said, though it was with a jesting tone, mostly to see how Glas would react to such an idea.

so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow

Noah Olson