Wheeling Gull Isle blessed home

The true keepers of the island had returned.

Jasmine had scented Heda and Bartholomew on the fringe of the beaches earlier the previous day, and she had given them space. She knew the wears of travels, how good it simply felt to be home and to be left alone, if even for a little bit. At least, that always felt good to her. She didn't give much space to think it might be different for others.

But this morning when she saw Bartholomew's odd yet familiar silhouette cutting away from the lavender fields, Jasmine hiked on over with new purpose in her step.

"So it's true! The travellers have returned," she greeted from still a couple strides off, a cheeky but playful grin adorning her words, "so, how's the world beyond the Isle?"