The Ark of Noah

Previously

…“You work too hard, my love,” she said softly, her voice a gentle balm against the harsh sounds of construction. She handed him a waterskin, its leather worn smooth by years of use. Noah took a long, grateful drink, the cool water a welcome relief. He met her eyes, a flicker of weariness in their depths, but it was quickly overshadowed by the resolute fire that burned within him. “There is much to be done, Naamah. The Lord’s command is not a suggestion, but a certainty.” She nodded, her hand resting briefly on his arm, a silent offering of strength. “I know. But even the strongest tree needs rest to grow.” She gest