Wheeling Gull Isle solitude

the boy was youthful and bright.

seemingly not touched by the all the things bartholomew had seen, had lived. he hated the jealous burn in his chest and throat. it made him feel boyish! ridiculous!

he had no right to feel this way!

blessed day, caracal. he remained warm, composed.

but when it came time to discuss sweetharbor, he looked to heda. sharing gazes for a moment.

it seemed fitting that she be the one to explain the place to those she knew.