NOAH
I wait and tell myself "life ain't chess,"
The hunter watched as the boy's knuckles turned as white as the snow outside around his glass. He didn't turn his head to look straight at Korbin, but he still watched him nonetheless. He let his eyes scan away from the boy and to the rest of the tavern, taking in everything Korbin saw as well. His face remained neutral, cold as ice. "She couldn't help it," He sighed, taking another sip of his own whiskey. "Even before she was the Warden she felt a responsibility to be a protector." Why else had the woman started a quest to be able to keep her weapon with her at all times, without startling others, if not to have it ready at a moment's notice to come to aid of someone in need? Weaver had always been a helper, even if she could be rough around the edges with it.
Noah set his glass down on the table, the ice clinking together like the teeth in his jaw as he thought. The muscles in the corner of his face feathered, and he finally looked at Korbin. "So how long are you gonna continue to let his place fester?" It was a bold question, and his cold eyes bore hard down on the younger man. The raven needed to build some grit, some determination. Was he truly going to let Weaver's legacy die? If he couldn't have her, no one could? Was that how things were going to end? "No one else can do this like you could, Korbin."
But no one comes in and yes, you're alone...
