He couldn't look away from the raven as he spoke. He noticed how each muscle in his face twitched. He noticed the hollowed, sunken cheeks and the bags under his eyes, dark circles entrapping them. Relief flooded Noah when Korbin said that he wouldn't lose him. He had been so worried about the boy, about him taking his own life or losing in by putting himself in some sort of foolish danger. His father had, after all. Grief clouded people's minds and trapped their hearts, and Noah knew that. He did not want Korbin to fall to this part of grief--he didn't want the man to kill himself. He noticed the scar across his jugular, but said nothing, able to at least put some pieces together for himself. After all, it was a new scar.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Korbin?" Noah wanted to be helpful--it was ingrained into his every fiber, his very being. He felt useless to help the man heal, but he didn't want to be. He wanted to support his friend and offer him a shoulder should he need it. He would give his skills to ease Korbin's responsibilities so that he could try to focus better on moving forward.
