Wheeling Gull Isle treibloka

his explanation was brief, but brevity did not hide the nuance of the words he spoke. heda realized his accent reminded her a little of slavuj, and enjoyed the connection for a second.
paws crooked to chest, she too spined down into the welcoming land of sweetharbor, the scent of rich loam and seaflowers rising softly around she and daniil.
the sun slowly dried the rivulets in her white fur to the confectionary salt-glittering.
"i do a lot of this, actually." two ospreys, calling to one another, courting in the air where pockets of warmth brightened their plumage to daring colors.
for a long moment heda only watched them, heart aching up into her throat for reasons she both understood and did not.
"it's when i come to talk to god. i lay here, and i ask him just to speak to me. and i —" the young wolf closed her eyes and inhaled, body relaxing into moonbeam winter. "i hear him, in the surf not far away, and the wind, and the birds calling. in the breeze. he's in the waves."
silence now, silence so maybe daniil might hear the voice of god as well.