Wheeling Gull Isle somewhere only we know

she followed dutifully, silently. there were no questions, no small talk, and she found some solace in the quiet.

it was only as they came upon the rolling hills, each crest a wave of green among a sea of grassland, that words broke the collective silence. she thought the yearling a dove upon a perch, vigilant, peaceful.

"it is very pretty". pretty - she meant it in all sense of the word.

a thought then, and a gentle thrum of her heart at the next words to leave her lips.

"could i join you from time to time? to watch together...if you'd like the company?"