They reached the other side of the bridge, and Noah let the relief of it fill his face and his body. His shoulders dropped some and he let out a breath, hands seeking refuge in his own pockets. He nodded along to what Isla said of snow and injury and illness. ”Torchline will have its own ways to send people your way.” Surely alcohol poisoning was something she hadn’t dealt with much as an ascended (which was all Noah knew her to be before now), but maybe she had seen plenty more in her time before the Voice. ”You shouldn’t be too far off, now.” He gestured towards where she was looking, and faintly on the air he could taste the sea salt.
Noah shifted his weight some. She hadn’t outright attacked him, like Wessex or Nate. He wondered if she was silently planning his demise, like Neron. But something within him, as he looked onto crystal clear eyes and tanned cheeks and her smile, told him otherwise. ”Thank you.” He said simply. He offered her a smile in return, of farewell, before waving his hand gently to her and heading towards where he needed to go next—
Which was simply out of her eyes and ears, then he used his compass to beam himself home in a heartbeat.
FIN
noah olson
the emptiness of broken flesh, at the mercy of the thorns
