Wheeling Gull Isle and if you don't want me at my goodnight

Knowing that the woman was willing to push herself gave Ying some reassurance. She took care to move slower than she would have liked, but still went beyond her companion's pace. It didn't take long for the shore to come into view, prompting her to pick up the pace.

Ying looked back and waited for the girl to catch up. Every few yards, she would stop and wait, until the tide was pulling high enough to meet her ankles. She didn't speak for a while, biting at the inside of her cheek while she searched for something to say.

What you call yourself? she asked, finally turning away from the horizon, I am Ying.