Wheeling Gull Isle kongeda

the sensation was wonderfully, delightfully odd! and she noticed quite a lot the way their tongues brushed through the medicine. but dutifully she pulled back, chewed, swallowed, smirked at him. it was not so bad; it had not nauseated her at all. "you take good care of me."
caracal explained what it was, and heda sighed in relief. "good. i can't be sick right now, not at all. i've been dreaming, you see," and her eyes took on a fond, familiar, faraway look. "we should rebuild sweetharbor."
a laugh. "mama, i think," heda said, bumping her head against his own. "oh, caracal! i'm so hungry and tired all the time, i don't think any amount of sleep breaks it up. but i can't be sick or tired right now," heda said. 
"my dreams were about rebuilding sweetharbor. and about how instead of changing redhawk, i think i want to name any — children — we have in god's name. and maybe a middle one for the island."
yes! she had been in great thought.