Noah gave Isla a small smile despite his discomfort at the way she held such confidence in the bridge beneath them. It was only when they were nearly a quarter of the way across that Noah let his eyes come back up to look ahead of him rather than down at his feet. ”My name is Noah, by the way.” He offered.
He kept his gaze ahead as they walked, and missed any expression on her face that kept him from talking further about Sunjata. But Noah didn’t need any help not to go down that road. Though he had tried to keep civil with the other demigod after the war, he still held him out at an arms length and kept himself shielded from the idea of him.
”The brothel not your scene then, huh?” He half-chuckled, though the question may have been better if he had phrased it closer to the lines of “what is drawing you out of King’s End” rather than what it was.
noah olson
the emptiness of broken flesh, at the mercy of the thorns
