Wheeling Gull Isle solitude

Psalm? he repeated in his head, wondering if she was Bartholomew’s lady friend, at least until he registered Heda’s next few words. He cocked his head. Now there were two mysterious figures skulking around the island, one apparently a different species altogether.

Hum’kay, he agreed with an easy grin. I appreciate the hospitality, like, it’s really top-notch service, he quipped, giving her a teasing look even though the sentiment was totally genuine.

As he strode along, he tried to place that name again. Had he met a Blueberry before? He couldn’t remember. Well, maybe once he saw her, it would jog his memory. He set that thought aside.

I’ll try not to be a total freeloader, by the way. I’m a deadbeat doctor and a shit hunter but surely I have some skill, buried deep down inside of me, right?