Wheeling Gull Isle the songcord

caracal was exuberant. heda let herself be embraced, laughing; she put her own arms around him. for now, nothing seemed as if it had changed. and truth be told, she didn't truly understand what courtship was.
but it sounded — long. it sounded final in a way that she liked. she found herself regarding caracal with a studious look, one that tried to look past his edges to the sort of man he might become.
"when are you leaving?" she asked, attempting not to think of bartholomew.