Weaver takes a sip of her own mug of piss (it did not really deserve to be called ale), and she can understand why Noah hisses at it. Yet here they are, drinking it anyway. Soon enough she’d have her own bar, with decent booze from other parts of Caido and some cider from the book Maea had given her. Soon enough she’d have a life outside of hunting day in and day out. But still, she understands the struggles of their everyday life in Halo, even if hers was slowly changing.
”I’ve got a little extra dried meat, if you get strapped.” She thinks of the ursur meat from the Academy, drying in her back room, and the luxure she’d scored after showing Wessex around. Korbin and she had been rationing it, just in case life and all their plans went south come Deepfrost, but he wouldn’t mind her sharing some with Noah. That is what they do here in Halo, after all. They keep each other alive. She knows it all too well as an orphan, and she suspects Noah is familiar with the same brand of kindness.
”What do you think of all the Outlanders?” she asks. Hell, simply of all the outsiders traipsing through Halo like it’s a vacation. Not that she could really judge, having befriended a number of them and traipsing through other areas herself, but still, it was hard not to talk about it a little.
”I’ve got a little extra dried meat, if you get strapped.” She thinks of the ursur meat from the Academy, drying in her back room, and the luxure she’d scored after showing Wessex around. Korbin and she had been rationing it, just in case life and all their plans went south come Deepfrost, but he wouldn’t mind her sharing some with Noah. That is what they do here in Halo, after all. They keep each other alive. She knows it all too well as an orphan, and she suspects Noah is familiar with the same brand of kindness.
”What do you think of all the Outlanders?” she asks. Hell, simply of all the outsiders traipsing through Halo like it’s a vacation. Not that she could really judge, having befriended a number of them and traipsing through other areas herself, but still, it was hard not to talk about it a little.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
