Wheeling Gull Isle parted seas

heda sighed and sat down, lifting a gangly hind to scratch behind her ear. "i don't know," she mumbled, finding immediate and focused interest in an anthill. she crouched close and sniffed at the leading insect, discovering too late that these were fire-ants of a tropical variety.
she yanked herself away before they could swarm her, tumbling in a roll to lodge near bartholomew's feet. the grass was soft and she had hit no stones. heda counted herself lucky. "feels like i'll disappoint people if i really go." her voice was conversational. she rolled and was up in the next second, forging ahead once more.