Falls of the Hinterlands sontaim

heda swam closer and playfully flicked water at bartholomew's shoulder, trying to miss his face. 
"i'm not a good singer. i have the worst voice," and here she proceeded to show him, exaggerating a caterwaul into the night. "but i bet god doesn't care, right?" her golden eyes searched his own.
heda was solemn.
"i want to know a song. i bet you're better at singing." and then she was back to her jovial self once more.