NOAH
The hunter's smile broadened as the warlord spoke. He had moved to begin the process of transferring the woolly creatures from ice to sleigh, but turned briefly. His face wrinkled with delight despite the cold air that bit at his nose. "Yes. I was fourteen. I was with my father." The words fell from smiling lips with such fondness it was nearly warm enough to melt the snow that surrounded the pair of men. He remembered the hunt like it was yesterday. It wasn't unlike today, except instead of having snuck up on the ursurs, the ursurs had snuck up on them. It was Noah, his father, and the two older Hale siblings. The four of them worked together under the quick instruction of his father, but it was Noah who dealt the killing blow and it was Noah who ate the heart. Now, Noah gestured down for Deimos. He wanted to see what the general would do when faced with something that seemed mostly gruesome to the outside world, but held so much value in the lives of Halovian hunters.
i'd fashioned my own cross
been crushed by its weight
there's no stronger message
than dirt in your face
been crushed by its weight
there's no stronger message
than dirt in your face
