when so many have died
"My father raised me to be a hunter. I've always done it because it brought me closer to the memory of him, when he passed." Noah leaned against the bark of the tree, a flash of his father's face dim in his memory, but still there. "I thought it, too, my purpose to fulfill the Olson legacy. I didn't realize until a few years ago, long after my father died, why he wanted me to be a good hunter." He shifted, Eira's cooing trill catching him off guard for a moment as the gryphon found comfort in her hiding hole.
"He didn't just want me to be able to survive. That was part of it. The other part was that my father fed a lot of people with what he hunted and harvested. I fed a lot of people, too. I helped sustain a lot of families who's heads had other duties to fulfill. I fed the children of guards and warriors, of healers; I fed the elderly..." He paused, looking to meet Henry's eye, "and I got to know a lot of the people of Halo on a personal level. When our Citadel was attacked by cultists, and members of our guard fell and people were lost, I had a connection with them and was able to help bring closure because I guided the government in connecting with the families that suffered loss. Now, I sit on our council and deal with public affairs. I help the people."
"There is no way in knowing that my future held that. My father couldn't see it. I couldn't see it. What I did was latch on to what I did know and could see, and I did the next right thing. Every day."
wait for it
