Wheeling Gull Isle plaža

an odd fatigue had kept heda from today's duties. she had answered it gratefully, curling herself in the den-bed above the lavender fields.
when the traveller's call rose up over the island, heda started. she blinked; her mouth tasted of sleep.
but she was combed and arranged by the time she joined her husband and "slavuj!" she cried in exultation, moving to embrace bis fragrant body with all the friendliness she bore.