The sight of the little girl, a haunting reflection of his long-lost friend, sent a chill down Noah's spine. It was as if a ghost from his past had materialized before him, wrapped in the innocence of youth. He stood frozen for a moment, the weight of memories flooding back, and the ache of missing his friends hit him like a wave. He could hardly breathe. His mind tried to spark, but nothing fired. There was nothing there except the vision of the tiny girl before him, and of the brightening face of Weaver.
His mind involuntarily drifted, and Noah couldn't shake the feeling that fate had presented him with a second chance—a chance to reconnect, even if only in spirit. But no — it wasn’t fate. Fate didn’t mold the shapes and breathe the breath into the lungs. Vi did that. His deity. Noah’s breath suddenly filled him once again, but the edges of his mind grew fuzzy and light and glittered without focus.
As the girl continued on her way, oblivious to the emotions swirling within Noah, he found himself torn. The desire to follow, to unravel the mystery behind the uncanny resemblance, tugged at his heartstrings. It wasn't just curiosity; it was an ache for the companionship he once held dear. He was looking at Weaver when he looked at her, even as she scampered away. How many times had Weaver run away from where she left him, just as this tot was doing now?
Noah closed his eyes, grappling with conflicting emotions. The yearning for the familiar faces of friends who had become fragments of his past consumed him. It was a longing he couldn't easily cast aside, a void that seemed to echo with the laughter and shared dreams of days gone by, and his body moved. He left the men to their work and Noah drifted on the streets like snow melting into a riverbed, compelled by a force beyond reason. The little girl had already turned a corner, disappearing into the labyrinth of Torchline’s winding streets. Yet, Noah felt an unspoken connection urging him to follow.
His mind involuntarily drifted, and Noah couldn't shake the feeling that fate had presented him with a second chance—a chance to reconnect, even if only in spirit. But no — it wasn’t fate. Fate didn’t mold the shapes and breathe the breath into the lungs. Vi did that. His deity. Noah’s breath suddenly filled him once again, but the edges of his mind grew fuzzy and light and glittered without focus.
As the girl continued on her way, oblivious to the emotions swirling within Noah, he found himself torn. The desire to follow, to unravel the mystery behind the uncanny resemblance, tugged at his heartstrings. It wasn't just curiosity; it was an ache for the companionship he once held dear. He was looking at Weaver when he looked at her, even as she scampered away. How many times had Weaver run away from where she left him, just as this tot was doing now?
Noah closed his eyes, grappling with conflicting emotions. The yearning for the familiar faces of friends who had become fragments of his past consumed him. It was a longing he couldn't easily cast aside, a void that seemed to echo with the laughter and shared dreams of days gone by, and his body moved. He left the men to their work and Noah drifted on the streets like snow melting into a riverbed, compelled by a force beyond reason. The little girl had already turned a corner, disappearing into the labyrinth of Torchline’s winding streets. Yet, Noah felt an unspoken connection urging him to follow.
no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
sitting all alone inside your head
