Noah's eyes flickered open slowly, a serene stillnes blanketing his expression as the threads of countless events coiled and settled behind his gaze.
He had watched Bob.
He had seen the desperate threading of his path, the weaving of a fate too fragile to name!
The paradoxical prison, the inevitability tethered to him like a beast of hunger, the rising flames of Living Origins now converging. A thousand threads of consequence, trembling under a single breath!
He inhaled.
Around him, the warm, dense scent of cooked Early Living Marine Lifeforms swirled in the air- a fragrance laced with purity and incomprehensible complexity. Another piece of seared flesh from the sacred wok rose into his hand as his gaze shifted calmly.
Moiraine stood like obsidian-gilded marble, composed and glorious. The golden waves of paradox etched into her form gleamed faintly in the glowing atmosphere of the Shore, her body still as if awaiting nothing but his will.
