NOAH
Noah turned the arrows over and over in his large, rough hands. His fingers traced down the shaft of each arrow. The smoothness was brilliant. "You must have worked hard on these." Noah said, suddenly feeling a small sense of embarrassment. He was no master crafter, and her chime was nowhere as beautiful or as useful as these arrows. "Deimos made me a quiver that imbues the arrows with fire. I won't use these ones in that quiver. They're too perfect to be swallowed by flames." He laughed some, "You two are so generous to me." His smile brightened with the genuine words he spoke.
When she mentioned the feathers, Noah's smile faltered. He ran his fingers over the fletchings again, gently and slowly. His jaw feathered, eyes swelling with the faintest hint of tears. "Thank you." He said again, clutching the bunch of arrows in one hand and lowering them, point away from them. His other arm lifted and pulled the woman in against him, the full embrace of a hug coming from his gratitude.
I want trees instead of gravestones
nothing to confess
nothing to confess
