Wheeling Gull Isle I remember the sound of the wind as I was falling asleep.

Most of what she found was useless; an array of tiny mollusks she could not pry free at the angle they sat, these tiny domes filled with dollops of muscle not worth the effort. A few larger shells in the deeper pools—one she overturned, startled backwards when small crabs scuttled out and in to the wet sand for shelter.

A dark shape drifted closer. Nukilik was flustered already and when she noticed the stranger her eyes averted, her heart hammering. They spoke and all she heard was the pounding of her heart in her ears; then the question, a bit clearer.

Yes, well... Trying, she stammers a bit. Shells for Hua as a gift, or pretty sea stones. I have been away from her a while and I want to say I am sorry... Oh, but she was rambling. Foolish girl, letting her thoughts spill like this.