Wheeling Gull Isle nemiyon

heda felt tears sting the corners of her eyes as caracal began to sing; a little informal sound of surprise and glee escaped her throat.
she danced with him, burying muzzle against the side of his throat. and it occurred to heda then that she had not thought of bartholomew once.
except for now, she noted to herself with an amusement that became wonderment, to be free at last of her cloying love for her mentor.
"your sunshine," heda whispered in a voice rocky with a thousand emotions; her eyes at last surrendered their tears, which ran down her face but did not evoke grief.
"is that it?" she asked deliriously a moment later, laughing again. were they married now? her eyes searched his own.