Wheeling Gull Isle parted seas

"all right." she thought she could see it from here, a green hill which clawed its way toward the sky. back up the winding way. back toward the verdancy of its foot. here she stopped and glanced for bartholomew. "how long do you want to stay?" if all her questions tired him, he had not said otherwise.
the smell of lavender hung between them both. she frisked her way toward the top of the hill as they went, leaping knoll to knoll, slipping only once and not badly.