Noah had no idea about Weaver's aspirations. They had not spent much--any--time talking about things like that. In all their time knowing each other, they had not made it much further than hunting, and survival, and the hardship of living in Halo. Part of this was on Noah's part. He was not skilled in making friends, and duty often crowded his mind and his heart more than anything else did. He took another drink of his ale before deciding he was finished with it, though it was only half empty.
"I sent Ezekiel out yesterday and he hasn't returned yet. I'm hoping he brings something back with him, but if he doesn't I'll let you know. We have some stores, but we're going to be busting our asses before Deepfrost comes. Could be any day, though." He leaned back in the stool some, holding the bar counter to steady himself. He shrugged though, rolling his head some to stretch his neck. He felt stiff, and he had finally been sitting still long enough to notice.
"The outsiders...well, I haven't met many of them, actually. Well, really only one. Wessex." He shrugged again, "I haven't been avoiding them, exactly, I've just been trying to do life as normal. My brother, on the other hand, is itching to explore the world and all its wonders now that we can actually leave Halo." It had been a constant fight between the two of them, actually, and Noah had won only by telling Ezekiel that he could explore and leave Halo if he helped gather enough food for them to survive the Deepfrost.
