"I need you, still." Noah rubbed his hands together some, voice straining a little as he suddenly felt choked up. "You are my friend, Korbin." Noah had been so busy with his own life that he had let Korbin slip away from him. Ezekiel had left, and Noah had focused on himself and his own affairs. How dare them. "I am so sorry that I haven't been there for you like I should, even before." He blinked back tears behind his thick lashes. "I should have been a better friend for you. You were there for me for something no one else was, out on the tundra." The sound of the arrow thunking through flesh and the wail of the woman that followed haunted him, and it was easily seen in the tears and the way his neck muscles tightened. "I need to be here for you, in the way you need."
Broad hands lifted to rub his face, and he swallowed hard. He hadn't realized how his emotions had been locked up so tight about all of this. It all hurt--the changes, the Citadel attack, Weaver's death, Korbin's actions against himself--all of it. Noah sighed, again, letting his shoulders roll forward as he looked about the room for a moment. He stood and walked over to the kettle, grabbing a new mug to pour fresh water into. He prepared it like he would his own tea -- with only eighty-percent of the sweetness Delphine had made it. He walked back over to the cot, sat, and offered the raven the warm, fresh mug. "Things change. It's just the way. Even the tundra is different every time we set foot on it--the wind and snow moves and shifts and changes, the luxere herds choose new grazing grounds, the wolves choose new hunting grounds. It all changes -- we just have to be willing to adapt. It hurts less, if we're willing."
