Wheeling Gull Isle healing prayers
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#1
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@Heda no rush <3

he had let her settle from their previous discussions, but the island had seen some...life. another young woman now rested upon their shores and bartholomew found himself uncertain what to make of it.

his path with heda had become clear. the other woman was still but a stranger. today he planned to take the young hunter away from now possible prying eyes and ears. they had matters to discuss, or so he thought. he supposed there truly was no way to predict the way things would go.

whenever he found the fire-streaked hunter, he'd speak softly and with warmth.

will you guide me to the caverns today, heda?
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#2
jasmine was kind and pretty. heda felt more aged, more drawn.
she climbed to the top of the promontory she had come to think of as the greenhills, and sat with her back to the rest of the island, watching the shimmer of sun upon sea. 
she heard bartholomew's step and swallowed, shoulders tensing. she wanted to yell at him. she wanted to cry. she wanted him to look at her, to see the rivulets of exhausted tears which had worn their way upon her marble cheeks.
"i met her. she's nice." 
her voice shook. heda did not turn around.
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#3
"i met her. she's nice."

he stilled, his own ears may have pushed with emotion if not for their drooped state. heda did not face him. she did not budge under his asking. he would settle beside her, within reach but did not yet glance upon her face.

i suppose so, he started with in a slight sigh. if she hinders your healing, heda, i will see her off. i did not expect her to stay very long.
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#4
heda didn't want to make the decision. she wanted bartholomew to tell her that the other girl was more important. but he was talking about her own healing. she drew a long breath. "there's no reason she can't be here."
she fought the reluctance in her voice.
thankfully she hadn't felt his omnipotent golden eyes on her face yet. the girl squared her shoulders. "someone else came to the island. just — he didn't stay long."
her tones weakened a little at the end. heda's control noiselessly started to crumble.
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#5
as with all things, it seemed the first words had simply been a gateway to something else. and he felt something heavy and awful in his gut for the next words she spoke.

his brows furrowed and although he sat next to her, he let her keep her privacy. unwilling to look to her face yet in case he might see something in those eyes she did not wish for him.

and who was he, heda? there was an edge in his voice now that had not been there before. something protective and grim. he felt ugly for the sudden well of emotion.

he loathed the idea of somebody being here when he was not, possibly fouling heda's mood.
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"my brother."
the words were a pathetic squeak that inched out between her clenched teeth. heda shut her eyes hard but could not hide the way her shoulders shook.
"i haven't seen him since we were kids." she sniffled, still keeping her eyes fixed doggedly on the sea. "our m-mom disappeared when we were not even off milk yet. so our pack raised us. i got sisters because of it, witch and druid. and a mom, sequoia."
"she never came back. i can hardly remember her face or her voice. and then wor — worripa left. just disappeared. everyone disappears, bartholomew."
heda was a thousand miles away. she visualized a wolf far below them, in the middle of the ocean, paddling toward the sun on the horizon before they sank.
"the man who raised me abandoned that pack. my mom and sisters are gone somewhere else. everyone i even liked in my current pack is gone or leaving or too busy. and —" now her voice truly was breaking and cracking and shattering and she couldn't get out the rest, only hung her head and allowed great horrible choking sobs to fill the air.
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#7
her brother.

his face grew grim even before she elaborated. her pain felt tangible in his own heart, as if the thick air of tension he breathed affected him physically. the corner of his vision vibrated with her shivered shoulders.

how awful, how horrible.

heda's childhood had not been kind and coddling. she had been abandoned by her own mother and shoved to another. abandoned by the only blood that was left too. worripa. his features soured further and briefly wrinkled with an ugly type of look.

the man who raised her abandoned her too.

her previous statement hung heavy in the air as she choked out sobs.

"everyone disappears, bartholomew."

this explained plenty, he thought. this might be why she met his kindness with such skepticism or broke down from it all, why strangers would possibly always be met with dodgy sour words. he felt a great hatred bloom in his heart for all of those who had wronged her. and hatred was not very godly by any means, but here he felt it.

he neared her, pressed a steady dark shoulder into the trembling glacier of her own side.

what an ugly thing you have been put through, heda. his voice hoarse and strained. gone was soft and warm, replaced by a man who felt ill for all she had suffered so young. anger hot in his blood that he did his best to temper. for now he could only stew in it all as he fell silent again.

a mountain against her tsunami of emotions.
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#8
"oh, there's — so much more." her sigh was a puff of air from a deadened tomb. "those are just the main points," she joked, searching for any tendril of humour she could use to extricate herself.
bartholomew was warm beside her. it occurred to heda that maybe since childhood no one had made contact with her so consistently. since coming to the island they had run and hunted and slept close, to the point where the solidity of his figure was something she had come to fear would be taken from her.
she fidgeted next to him. there was frustration. there was relief. she felt empty, as though she had exposed a huge weakness and now bartholomew could see the extent of her cowardice. 
she couldn't speak her mother's name. she couldn't tell him that she heard druid retching and crying in the dreams of every night. she could hardly get any of these words out. "i keep wondering what's wrong with me," and the tears started to come again, and she spoke in the same still small voice. "you know, like what i did to d —" oh, but she did deserve it. she'd never come back to rivenwood to see what had happened. she'd turned her back on druid's begging. she had moved miles and days away from anything she knew. and it hadn't been enough.
at last heda sagged against bartholomew, exhausted and wrung out, her crying hoarse this time.
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#9
so much more.

he wished there wasn't. she was so wounded, so pained and it covered them like a dangerous smog. she was so young still and she had been put through a lifetime of hurt.

her next words pinched his brows together harshly.

there is nothing wrong with you. bad things happen to everybody sometime, but those bad things happen in unfair balances sometime too. he leaned into her, shouldering the weight of her both physically and emotionally. but awful things should not define us forever, either.

this time his head turned towards her, hoping to rest the tip of his nose against the start of her fiery blaze, right atop her crown.
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#10
it felt good to be held. it felt so good that she began to fear it; like anyone who had been repeatedly hurt, heda knew that the signalling of good things could often spell more harm.
the first minutes of contact passed under her sniffling, but when bartholomew fit her against him and her head beneath his, heda stiffened. she was not truly resistant, and at last lay her head against him. 
in the thicket of his long and glossy hair, she found a sublime sort of peace. and it was here she pondered what he had said: bad things happened to everyone and bad things should not define anyone.
heda kept her muzzle tucked where it was, voice and breath muffled as she asked: "does god ever leave you?"
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#11
she did not pull away and neither would he.

she seemed to soften from the harshness of tears and her broken heart, he wished he could carry that for her. mend it back until it was whole and return it to her. alas —

her voice thrummed through his chest, a vibration against his own beating heart.

no. he whispered over the curve of her skull. even when i so desperately wished to hide from Him, He was there. waiting and wondering when i would return to Him — the patience of God is truly admirable. it might have been humor was it no so painfully true.
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the idea that there was someone who did not leave evaded heda. she found disbelief inside herself, mingled with frustration over the idea that maybe bartholomew was right.
the way he talked about god reminded heda that he had lived far longer. he seemed settled in a way that felt unattainable for her.
she swallowed and stayed as she was. "even if you do bad things?" she asked, muted, timid, feeling the tiny vibrating buzz of her own voice against his flesh and bone.
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#13
he smiled, in a way that was more somber than such a gesture might be meant for. it was not a smile of glee or happiness, not even humor.

it was almost a smile of shame.

even if you do bad things. he whispered back. when i...did bad things, i knew the guilt i felt was because i wasn't alone. He was there and He wished for me to return back to good, so i did. even if it took some time.
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#14
druid coughing. druid crying brokenly. "i can't imagine you doing bad things, bartholomew." her eyes hurt. a hot tear etched its way down her cheek into his fur all the same.
but god had waited. god had taken him back. heda was not yet ready to wonder if she was good enough to join her mentor.
her eyelids fluttered. she was so tired. it would be easy to close her eyes now. the last of the tension ebbed from heda. she could hear his heartbeat, and its comforting consistency steadied her, kept her from delving to sorrow once more.
"i have to go back to atautsikut," she mumbled. "to tell them i'm okay and i'm staying here. i don't want to be the one who leaves without saying anything."
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#15
he did not know if that was better or worse.

he had done a many bad things, sprinkled throughout his life. only able to lead by example for all of the things he too had inflicted or had inflicted upon him. for he had abandoned his own family in their time of need and his wife was long gone and he wondered all the things he could have done better.

she would not be burdened with these things.

briefly, though, he wondered if she planned to return home to heal there instead. except she explained, he offered a hum in understanding. she would stay here. she just simply didn't wish to leave things unspoken.

i think that is a proper way to start a new life. a gentle praise, soft and thoughtful.

do you need me to come with? or is this something you must do alone?

the choice was hers.
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#16
a new life. 
it frightened heda. she pushed herself closer. the promise of new things and new beginnings reminded her that there was an end.
at last she pulled away. a yawn split her jaws before she could say anything, and she glanced up at him sheepishly.
"i don't know yet." the idea of him coming with her was greatly appealing. not only had she become accustomed to with someone, she wanted to show the others who had made such an impact on her.
"i'll let you know when i figure it out."
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#17
he gave her an understanding smile, not at all the slightest upset by her sudden absence against him.

these things take time. he told her with a gentle nod. he would not pressure her either way, only there to make the paths to her new journey more accessible to her.

suddenly he remembered the things he had been shown by the sapphique woman.

i have a treat at the tide pools for you. now or later. a sly smile briefly flashed on his face.
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a treat at the tide pools. these things take time.
they fit together like a mantra. heda wanted to ask to wait till morning but the elation in bartholomew's voice pulled her into some new sort of energy. "now," she decided at once.
heda was straightening and stretching, surreptitiously dabbing at her eyes to dry them. and when she turned to look at him again, some light had returned to her countenance.
she was ready to follow.
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#19
can either fade, or can keep going! :D

she was bright and lively once more. he cherished these moments.

there are these...urchins. he explained, nose crinkling some but smiling. they are exciting to eat, though. interesting little things. he remembered how the vibrant woman of the sea had cracked them open with a rock, carried some home with kelp.
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wanna fade w ur next post?

heda reached out to investigate. she recoiled with a chuckle. "urchins." how odd. "how ... do you eat them?"
her eyes met his for a moment, and then she had turned back to the sea creature.
its spiked form represented a great deal for her, but nothing so great as her continued presence on the island.
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faded! :D

you must crack it open. he explained with some odd fascinated delight in his tone. how absolutely primitive and barbaric it had seemed, but he found himself thrilled by this all the same. the sapphique woman had made it look so easy.

he would find a rock big enough and heavy enough, then drop it the same as mireille had. exposed the fascinating center of it, but would leave it for heda to devour.

this would be a process he'd be happy to repeat time and time again until they both had their fill.