Wheeling Gull Isle she’s a 10 but…

heda stepped inside. the roof was damp from melting snow. she turned to look at her contemplative companion, then scanned the interior of the den.
"i think god comes to talk here," she murmured, golden eyes flickering toward him. a thought took half-form, and eventually she gestured caracal closer. "i — i think you should stay here for a night or so." it might have been a foreign idea to him.
but if heda was going to proceed, it was with both of them touched by the honored light which had so filled her days on the island. "you don't — you don't have to do it," she said quietly. "but i want you to stay alone for a little while. i'm going to leave for a few days."
her eyes sought his own. "this is how god came to me. he will come to you too, caracal."