Wheeling Gull Isle treibloka

heda's breath, a soaring outtake of emotion in audible breath that rendered her many things at one time. but the first and the last of these was the tightening of her arms around him. she felt in that moment and on this day that she had become a healer, or that the tendriling of ivy to come was only just out of reach; she pushed into him with her greening spirit and the dizzy force of her love for god, willing danill to mend beneath the soft touch of her hunter's body.
the intimacy of prayer had never ceased to dazzle. the intimacy of prayer had never failed to cause an entire flush of pinked piety through all her singing flesh.
heda did not think of what eyes might be on her or on them!
she considered only danill, weeping in her arms and all the long muscles of him gone to trembling; she breathed out again as she clutched him close and felt some deep horrid tear within her knit.
let it go, she had said, and now he did, and heda would hold him all through the gaol of the holy night and his own reckoning w unseen things.