There was, Naomi decided, some sort of cosmic irony in all of this. Not that she was trapped in a deranged and possibly other-worldly asylum with a man she'd idolized for years and a boy who was being investigated for - among other things - the murder of her fiance. No, at this point, those were perfectly normal occurrences. Rather it was the
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Yes, in her time, the Civil War had come and gone a few centuries prior. That was just a stone's throw away for a Noah.
She slackened her hold on his arm ever so slightly. "But there's no war here, is there? Except at night, and that's a lot different. I... don't have my powers," she admitted a little more than sadly, "and you don't really either. I bet I could even touch your left arm without it hurting me now."
Her hands tugged slightly at his odd clothes. "When there's no war, people are supposed to be friends... right?" The earlier certainty she'd used in speaking on wars had come and gone in a flash. Her lasts words were uncertain, nearly shaky too. All she had to base her assumption on was what she'd seen of the brief peace times the humans had. There hadn't ever been a time that the Noah could have been said to be in a time of Peace. Not once.
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