Wheeling Gull Isle nolla

she listened to the sea. there was only the lulling of the waves to meet her ears. when there came the sound of sand being shifted underfoot, she turned her head and caught the boy in her eye; he seemed welcoming, and young, and somehow affixed here as if he belonged.
a tall, racy body with the striated coat of a creature accustomed to salt, barely bothered as he crossed the sand to meet her. he looked both wild and peaceful.
holy? he had named this place sweetharbour; in what way was it holy? her interest was caught.
It is a nice island; what is holy here? she did not mean it to be rude, and had a habit of being direct. there was nothing to be wary of within the boy; perhaps then, this was her own confidence showing.