The fire flickers, the wardens say their words, and Noah keeps swallowing down the lump in his throat. The tears burned his eyes as the smoke rose into the sky, twisting and dancing and -- hopefully -- delivering souls to Mort. The Sentinel closed his eyes and let out his breath, his empathy and care pouring out over the attuned bond for anyone who has access to it to catch. He has no other words, save for what Halo has always said in moments like this. "May they burn brightly." His voice was but a whisper, rising just carefully and dissipating as quickly as the fog of his breath.
Noah's last post.
Noah's last post.
noah olson
the emptiness of broken flesh, at the mercy of the thorns
