Wheeling Gull Isle treibloka

ah! he knew her god! something like elation began soft in her belly, something low and daring that spiraled out to tingling limbs and beating heart.
"he didn't always speak to me," heda began softly, the goldenrod of her gaze soft against the swart of his own. "when i first came here, when i was younger, i was filled with anger. couldn't let it go, couldn't put it down."
her eyes now, turned back to the skies which mirrored the great spread of saltwater and darkened waves all around their home, for it she knew it would become danill's too, surely it would.
"many people left me. family. mentors. i wasn't able to hear anything past the rage in my heart. then i met bartholomew," heda said, unable to keep the morning glory smile from climbing the trellis of her mouth. "i was mean to him at first. but he was kind to me. and slowly, very slowly, he began to teach me how god's voice is different for all of us. how he shows us his love is different also."
heda would never have the howling and blind passion of a pentecostal worker but there was an intensity in her, streaming like fiber optic beneath the gentler insistence of her testimony.
"i sought him out first," heda said, moving toward a finish, turning her cheek against the earth until she was watching daniil once more. "when i surrendered all my anger, that was when i found the peace of his voice."