Wheeling Gull Isle healed

heda sat near and gathered the flowers near, sorting slowly with reverent paws. "landwirtschaft. farming." that had been mahler's word. she marvelled that it did not hurt to say or to think of him. "i can help you bring more bundles."
when heda looked up it was to see the gravid silence on bartholomew's face. her golden eyes met his own; set in their silver markings, they invited him to say what was unsaid.