Noah kept to himself for the most part as they traveled. When conversation happened, he interacted, but he wasn’t beginning and debates or philosophy discussions today. His mind was on Cordelia, her growing belly nearly ready to give way to their children. It could be any day now, and Noah would be damned if he wasn’t there. The quicker their journey and task could be done and they could return to the Citadel, the happier the hunter would be. He stuck awfully close lately, and he only ventured this far because of the confidence in the compass in his pocket.
Noah kept his ears shifted to white satellites beneath his blond hair, listening for the approach of anything or anyone. Last time he had come to the Climb he had been attacked by one of the Ancients — a young, dumb Ancient — and he did not want that to happen to them today. With his focus on listening as they traveled, Noah didn’t catch any of the twitterpated glances between the Wardens.
Wading in with the buckets Deimos gave him, Noah was inclined to fill them and skirt out. The Sword, though, had other plans. Evil followed, and as water came splashing his way he couldn’t help but laugh. For as hardened as the warlord was, Deimos had an easily indicted playful streak in him. ”Hey!” Noah growled playfully, reaching down with a cupped hand to swipe a wave (albeit a small wave compared to what those with mastery over the element could send) towards both Wardens.
