Wheeling Gull Isle we're speaking with brand new tongues

a leggy shadow coursed the feet of the island. of course heda noticed. she noticed everything these days, from errant waves to deer-trails to the way the wind shifted and changed/
the youthful advisor would not hide herself. she stepped directly toward the older man, who smelled of deep places she did not know and who burned with something she did not understand.
"welcome to sweetharbor," heda said in a low and welcoming tone, stopping some feet away with a wave of her tail. "will you stay a while?"