Wheeling Gull Isle rankova

heda let herself be enfolded and pulled forward. she inhaled the good deep fragrance of him, the salt of his fur, the kindness that glowed above his heart and warmed her steadily with each moment. she pillowed her muzzle on his shoulder and shut her eyes; she told herself it was a gift from god and she would not squander this connection by begging for it to be more.
as long as bartholomew wanted to hold her she would be held, melting against him, filled with wishes and wants and her own brimming determination.