The irony of Sunjata coming to the same shop looking for a gift for someone he didn't like, while Noah was doing the exact same, was just too hard to pass up (for this writer, at least). All the way back in the workshop behind the storefront, Noah watched with crossed arms as the glassblower worked on the project. The sketch of what they had come up with lay on the table beside the demigod.
It'll be a minute still, a voice broke the hunter's concentration on the glassblower; it was his apprentice, you can look around more...or you can watch, but artistry of this level takes time. Noah nodded with understanding, then moved back into the storefront from the workshop. He almost balked at what he saw when he did, but instead he let out a breathy, though quiet, laugh and shook his head. "I didn't expect to run into you here, Sunjata." Noah said as he closed some distance between them.
He hadn't seen the man since before the war, before the refuge was finished even, and he had to admit that he looked okay -- good, if he felt generous.
noah olson
the emptiness of broken flesh, at the mercy of the thorns
