Wheeling Gull Isle neakita flower

fathers.
she fought the bristle of anger along her red-marked spine. he'd lost his and gone looking for him. for his mother. heda burned with the rage she had swallowed, that this little boy should too be affected by the actions of a wayward father.
she sniffed.
she was making a bunch of assumptions. "so, uh, what happened? was he like hunting or, you know, whatever?" despite herself, heda was curious. part of her wanted to be wrong.