NOAH
I wait and tell myself "life ain't chess,"
As the stranger listed things he had noticed, Noah nodded and examined his own list. One of the things that the stranger did not list, that Noah had written in his chicken-scratch shorthand, was a question: did the people of Torchline eat these creatures? They were large, but he wasn't sure if they were filled with a meat that would bring sustenance or if they were mostly fibrous tissue and ligament. Noah agreed with the stranger, however, as he continued. If there was one that had already died, it would be interesting to study it further -- but Noah was not one just to end a life to gain more knowledge. Knowledge wasn't always necessary, and Noah felt strongly about sustaining the world.
The stranger seemed observant of more than just the local wildlife. Noah nodded, very comfortable in the fact that he stood out in this warm climate. "No, you're right, I am not from here." He started, moving to hold his pencil and notebook in one hand and stick out another, offering it to the stranger. "Noah Olson, from Halo." He introduced himself, shaking the stranger's hand firmly and courteously if given the opportunity. "I'd assume you're not a local here either, given that you're studying these guys." He gestured with his chin over his shoulders towards the mantas.
Falke -- sorry for the wait!
But no one comes in and yes, you're alone...
