Noe
Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man
You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them
You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them
Noe was making a lantern again, but this time, it was for light rather than remembrance.
The difference was relatively nonexistent, truth be told, at least in terms of construction. The lantern still sat in a wrought iron frame, glass protecting the wick where, eventually, a fragile flame would blossom. That didn't mean that there were no differences, of course: with this lantern, thoughts of Noe's mother weren't at the forefront of her mind, and she could focus on the simple artistry of the design for beauty's sake rather than for the sake of making her mother proud. Thias was not a lantern to impress a deity; this was a lantern to light the darkness of Longnight.
The young woman sat at home, on her porch, on an uncharacteristically warm day in early Deepfrost. Though she still wore a heavy sweater and long, warm pants, she was fairly comfortable on the porch, and it had better light for her lantern-making than the kitchen table. More space, too - things had gotten a little cramped in her impromptu indoor working space. All in all, Noe was content. Oh, sure, she worried about this and that: about her father's heath, about her brother's well-being, about her own progress in becoming an engineer and making her mark on the world; but today, those worries felt distant, and for that, Noe could only be grateful.
The difference was relatively nonexistent, truth be told, at least in terms of construction. The lantern still sat in a wrought iron frame, glass protecting the wick where, eventually, a fragile flame would blossom. That didn't mean that there were no differences, of course: with this lantern, thoughts of Noe's mother weren't at the forefront of her mind, and she could focus on the simple artistry of the design for beauty's sake rather than for the sake of making her mother proud. Thias was not a lantern to impress a deity; this was a lantern to light the darkness of Longnight.
The young woman sat at home, on her porch, on an uncharacteristically warm day in early Deepfrost. Though she still wore a heavy sweater and long, warm pants, she was fairly comfortable on the porch, and it had better light for her lantern-making than the kitchen table. More space, too - things had gotten a little cramped in her impromptu indoor working space. All in all, Noe was content. Oh, sure, she worried about this and that: about her father's heath, about her brother's well-being, about her own progress in becoming an engineer and making her mark on the world; but today, those worries felt distant, and for that, Noe could only be grateful.
Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie
They say looks can kill and I might try
They say looks can kill and I might try
