[SE] leave no trace

Noah Olson

This winter kiss has left me poisoned
And I will never be the same again

With the state of things in Halo lately, Noah knew that the carpenter shop that the Westfall family ran would be bursting with business. Unfortunately, this probably meant that they did not have much time to go out for supplies. As Noah gathered supplies for his own home repairs, he picked up a host of other supplies, with the intention of leaving them with the Westfalls.

Noah tied all of the goods up in a thick canvas back and fastened a rope loop around it. Inside the bag was a box of nails newly forged from the blacksmith, a bottle of antiseptic tonic that Loren had given him, and a new saw, with great, sharp teeth. Shifting into his reindeer form, Noah slipped the rope loop over his head. He was usually in his reindeer form when it came to travel during Deepfrost, even if it was only for short distances.

Noah knew where the shop was, but he took a back, winding path to get there. He wanted to leave the gift and head out, and did not want to be noticed. Honestly, he did not have the emotional energy to bring up small talk with any Westfall that might find him. So, Noah had waited until night. He knew that no other human, unless protected by the Arcane Academy or having a shift such as he, would be out at the hour. He snuck around the corner, and stood before their home. He quickly tucked his neck and shook the bag off of his head, leaving it on the snowy steps before the home.

Having delivered the goods, he turned his body and trotted off again into the darkness.

-

Glas

Don't shout at me like I'm across the room when I'm right here, when you're right this time

There’s no knock on the door – and that’s probably for the best to be honest. He focuses on trying to clean up the mess that is his home after the rubble have crashed through. He focuses on the remains of his own small private funeral of his family. He focuses on how to try and deal with being the only Westfall now. And all of it is a struggle, a damned hard one, but he tries regardless.

He opens the door late at night to try and dump out a dustpan of rubble when he spots a package left on the doorstep. A quick scan of his verdant gaze slips around the alley of his home, finding it empty and dark and quiet, and he tenderly reaches out to grab the box. It’s heavy, and he pulls it in and shuts and locks the door behind him and decides whether or not to open it.

Perhaps he’s a bit paranoid, unsure of whether it’s a good idea to try and open it. What if it’s a trap of some sort? What if those within Snowcloak had actually gone through with some tremendously terrible joke to get back at him?

In the end, he opens it regardless of his worries, swallowing down a lot of alcohol and internally beating himself over his anxieties. And when he does, there’s a few boxes within a thick canvas. A new saw with glimmering teeth, sharp as can be. A box of nails and some of the antiseptic that seemed somewhat familiar. And really? It was… So incredibly kind that Glas remains speechless, unable to do anything else other than sit there with a sheen of tears in his eyes as he stares at it.

GLAS