Wheeling Gull Isle And basically I've gotta know

He pawed at a shell aimlessly while his mind drifted; he had found it days before and kept it because when it shined in the sun it gave off the same lilac color that he admired in the gaze of his love. It mattered little to him that only one of her eyes remained, other than being angry with whomever had caused her such an injury. 

Soft steps against the sand pulled him from his thoughts, ear twitching in the direction of the sound before he turned to see who approached. Her scent filled his lungs and made his heart beat faster in his chest. They hadn't spoken since their reunion, partly because he had wanted to give her space, but everyday it was harder to keep away from her, and now that she was here, softly speaking his name, there was no hope for him. 

He watched her sit, not liking the space between them but, again, not wanting to force anything. So, he remained seated and, instead, gently nosed the shell in her direction. For you, he said hesitantly, his gaze mimicking the tone of his voice. He didn't turn away while he waited for her to accept or deny his gift; he continued to watch her, hoping to catch some unspoken emotion in her expression, some sign on her night sky face that confimed he was meant to be here.