Wheeling Gull Isle healing prayers

her brother.

his face grew grim even before she elaborated. her pain felt tangible in his own heart, as if the thick air of tension he breathed affected him physically. the corner of his vision vibrated with her shivered shoulders.

how awful, how horrible.

heda's childhood had not been kind and coddling. she had been abandoned by her own mother and shoved to another. abandoned by the only blood that was left too. worripa. his features soured further and briefly wrinkled with an ugly type of look.

the man who raised her abandoned her too.

her previous statement hung heavy in the air as she choked out sobs.

"everyone disappears, bartholomew."

this explained plenty, he thought. this might be why she met his kindness with such skepticism or broke down from it all, why strangers would possibly always be met with dodgy sour words. he felt a great hatred bloom in his heart for all of those who had wronged her. and hatred was not very godly by any means, but here he felt it.

he neared her, pressed a steady dark shoulder into the trembling glacier of her own side.

what an ugly thing you have been put through, heda. his voice hoarse and strained. gone was soft and warm, replaced by a man who felt ill for all she had suffered so young. anger hot in his blood that he did his best to temper. for now he could only stew in it all as he fell silent again.

a mountain against her tsunami of emotions.