the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't
The hunter had spent time here harvesting from forests and fields he was still learning. He knew, though, that the people here had had hard times. While he was not a powerful man in comparison to others, he knew he could help. So, except for what he had harvested with Henry, the majority of his kills went to feeding the people left standing in the Hollowed Grounds. Well, at least, it will be. He wasn't entirely sure who all needed it or where to start. He wasn't even truly sure who to ask. He was sure the leadership was busy with rebuilding and recuperating after their recent battle. So, he wandered.
A nail flying through the air caught his attention, wuite literally. The nail thunked against the side of the hunter's head. "Ow," He said, hand raising to rub where the nail had smacked him. The nail hit the ground and settled near his boot, and he brought his hand back down. No blood. Turning and lifting his head, Noah looked for the culprit.
"Wessex?" The hunter asks, unsure from this distance, if it is the demi-goddess on the roof of the building. He was sure, though, whoever it was, the nail had come from that direction. He cocked his head slightly, watching the woman.
so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow
Noah Olson
