Wheeling Gull Isle sacrament
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with him was the last he would harvest of the purple flowers that grew wild among one half of the isle. lavenders and wildflowers, a bundle between his teeth. all delicately cared for.

such had nearly become a customary gift from him to others who joined upon the isle. yet somehow this felt different. he did not come with some grand speech prepared, or any clue what he might say. there would be nothing that he felt he needed to say.

only that he wished to see her again and enjoy their shared silence.

so he only sought her out with himself, and his flowers.
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#2
she'd spent her days among the isle in adventurous exploration. from the gentle splash and splatter of the tide pools to the artistic charm of the delicate lavender fields. she thought the island alluring, a hideaway from the burdens and instability of isolation.

she'd adapted well in her short time among the fair few that shared the sanctuary with her, if only lacking in the social aspect of cohabitation. she had not sought any of them out, preferring the quiet and easiness that came with lack of proper introduction.

but if there were any to join her for a time, she'd wish it him.

and so when his form eventually materialized in the distance, the sprite ushered him closer with a gentle greeting of flowing tail. 
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she welcomed him.

in that wordless, tempting way. he moved only close enough to set the flowers within reach and then he took one step back. shared company had become their language, but he would not bring touch into the mix.

they would keep their respectful distance between their bodies, exchanging glances and wordless ways of talking.

and as such —

his golden gaze met her ocean blue, then turned to look upon the flowers he had brought.

for her.
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it was the unspoken understanding between them that she enjoyed so much. he never pressed for more than what she offered, never crossed the invisible line she'd drawn in the sand. they were two bodies, mere strangers in reality, but it felt as if she'd known him for ages.

he'd set a bundle of wildflowers before her, a gift it seemed. she thought him sweet like honey, and wondered if he'd brought the others such offerings as this.

a part of her felt at fault for having not prepared a gift in return. a wave of guilt washed through her gaze, his butterscotch eyes now resting upon the flowers.

she moved to gently pluck the bundle from the earth before returning to rest on downy haunches. she set the flowers neatly between cotton paws, careful not to crush them. eyelids fluttered closed for a moment then as she lift her tail to patter happily against the floor.

a lovely gift this was indeed.
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#5
he read each drop of body language.

eyes fluttered, tail tapped. all things he had come to know as contentment. dare he lest assign it to some sense of pleasure. yet he had promised himself he would not soil this holy connection between them. pure and rare. whatever may come from it was not for him to decide.

he was just happy that she seemed at peace with what he had provided.

softly, he took a few steps away, then turned a long look over his narrow shoulder.

did she wish to follow as they once had?
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eyes opened once more, squinting ever so slightly as her sight readjust to the brightness. she let her gaze fall to the leader's comely features as he set off a few steps, his turn received as an invitation to join him once more. and so the sylph stood to grasp wildflowers with pearly fangs, mindful not to damage them as she carried them with care.

he knew the island far better than she. where their course was set remained unknown, but it mattered little to the sprite. he'd led her before and it had landed her here, and so she trusted him blindly, content to simply share his company while he guide her like a lamb.

a shepherd and his sheep.
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#7
he wished to lead her to the field where the flowers had come from. where they would bloom once more come spring.

to a place he spent much of his time at.

there were no signs of the local herd here right now. only the open expanse with full view of the sea, flowers withering but still tall enough to brush up underneath him. touch. contact.

if they touched the same flowers he imagined that was the closest they could be.

softly, he dipped his muzzle and ran it along a batch of purple. then moved on, looking over to her. wondering if she'd be inspired to do the same.
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#8
they came upon a sea of plum, each petal painted upon the earth's canvas with delicate brush strokes of tranquility. the view was breathtaking, the aroma of sea salt and lavender pleasantly intoxicating.

oh how she adored flowers for their sublime appearance and bewitching perfumes. bathing in a meadow of fresh blossoms was perhaps her favorite way to scrub clean the inescapable filth that clung to near every surface.

this field, though withering and on borrowed time, was still lovely to walk amongst. but why walk when one could dance? where he knelt she frolicked, like a fawn upon a spring pasture.

she brushed past bundles of floral, some wisps of fur tangling as giggles erupted.

she looked to him, soft blue brimming with spirit.

come, let us play!
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#9
she came to life.

he watched, entranced by the way she moved like a fawn. fawns would hopefully flourish here when the time came for the island's herd, but for now it was just them. long limbed as they flowed through the flowers that dared to still hold on.

he moved in a crescent moon shape around her. fleetfooted in his own movements.

he bowed in one moment.

then was moving the next.
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#10
the bundle he'd gifted her had been dropped along the edge of the field, forgotten for now.

the sylph watched closely as he shifted among the flowers before lowering to a bow. oh what fun!

the edge of her lips tugged upwards into a delighted smile as she sought after him, tail swaying cheerfully behind her. bursts of laughter mixed in the air with playful growls. she pranced around him with youthful vigor, jumping to and fro in a childish glee.

her heart beat steady in her chest like a drum to the rhythm of their game.

how long had it been since she played like this? felt like this?
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#11
he did not allow himself to think on how he so enjoyed her features lighting.

instead he focused on evading her. when she dashed left, he dove right. his salt-water curled fur flowed with his movements. any who gazed upon them from any point on the isle might mistake him for somebody else entirely!

bartholomew had never been a frolicking man. not here, not in these wilds and not upon this island.

yet he became undone before this mystical woman.

soon enough his playful movements were cutting down towards the shoreline, where the water only just barely lapped at the land.
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their game continued, and the world felt lighter for it.

the wind twirl around them as they prance about, and for a moment it felt as if she was flying. chains unshackled, no more weights to burden her down.

she'd thought freedom would be found in the life of a drifter, so why did she feel so free now? like a bird who'd just discovered it's wings, the world suddenly became so much larger than it ever had before. 

she continued after him as he lead their game towards the water's edge, laughter and cheer the music to their dance.

this, whatever it may be, felt right.
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#13
the goal was for their paws to only just barely make splashes.

the water was already becoming a bit too cold for his liking. swimming was not on the menu for this, he imagined. he only meant to bring what might look like a game of chase along the coast. leading her towards the arch towards the north of the island.

at one point he barked a high sound, tail a banner as he sought to keep her attention and focus.

he did not think about how much he wished to enchant her.
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#14
she slowed as they came upon the water, soft blue set to inspect the shoreline and crashing waves. it appeared clean enough, and so she quickly returned to her initial pace and continued after the fleeing form of the captivating man.

droplets dampen soft cotton paws as they run along, her attention flickering between her companion and their surroundings.

she returned his bark with a chirp of her own as they came upon the stone formation. she was in awe of the captivating beauty this island seemed to hold like a hidden treasure, each corner a jewel just waiting to be discovered.

a wonder then, what gem she'd unearth next?
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he slowed as he entered the space beneath the arch.

the waves lapped against the part of the stone in the water. here was peace and shelter. the things he had built sweetharbor off of.

his body turned, so that he may face her now. space still kept between them. he respected that most about her.

his gaze was vibrant, brilliant, as he looked upon her now. searching for her approval in one way or another. still he ignored how much such a thing mattered to him.
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#16
she was spellbound.

be it the heavenly artistry around them or the charm of a gentleman, the sprite was wholly enraptured.

suddenly a world of black and white saw a splash of color, and she desperately, feverishly wished for more. like an addict to their drug, a moth to a flame, she craved more. she desired more.

she stood still then, time frozen as he turned to face her. she sought to drown in the molten gold of his gaze. there was a warmth there she'd not felt before, an electricity.

she took a breath, and then a step. any approval he may have searched for was given in the silence of her footsteps. close, closer still.

she'd not draw near enough to touch, but to feel. to feel this affection, this wordless intimacy.
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#17
they did not need to touch, to speak.

he felt it. he realized he cared little if it was imagined or not. she did not turn him away. she came closer and closer. his gaze could not part from her and he did not want it to part from her!

the beauty of her was raw in these moments of electric silence. the sandy blush of her matched the stones, her eyes jewels of the sea.

she was beautiful.

he wished to tell her this, to sing for her, to cherish that she had trusted him to come to his isle of peace.

instead he could only do what he had been doing. stare and gaze upon her with a intimate appreciation of her in these moments.

his eyes said everything that he could not.
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they held silence, and all the beauty with it.

lips were useless when eyes could speak so much louder. and she heard him in the shared quiet, the crashing waves a lullaby to their moment of mutual fondness.

she remained steadfast as he stare upon her, unflinching under his gilded gaze. she simply took the opportunity to appreciate him back, only shifting once under the weight of youthful puppy love.

she'd been struck by cupid, and at the realization of her own feelings, felt a slow warmth creep upon her cheeks. how childish she must seem, blushing over a man she'd just met!

yet here she was, struck with innocent infatuation.
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#19
what more could be said?

what more could they do?

he saw it upon her face, or so he liked to think he did. that infatuation that he too held for her. it made him feel boyish all over again! courting and uncertain where it may go, or what may happen.

although he was a man now.

and she was a woman. lovely and kind company.

still he did not speak but there was a warm sound in the back of his throat. meant for her ears alone.
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want to fade here and have a fresh thread soon? <3

there'd been a storm surging in her heart, rumbles of uncertainty, waves swirling with restlessness. and yet with but a murmur he calmed the squall and turned it to a soothing streamlet. what once roared now hummed.

the air felt thicker than it had moments before, and she breathed in deep the scent of sea brine and fresh lavender. eyelids fluttered closed, and she let herself be devoured by the silence.

a purr echoed his note as she let baby blues drift open, her attention set on the comfort of his gaze.

the molten of his eyes warmed her more than the sun did now.

she remained still for a moment, not wanting to shatter what affection they held between them, before she turned and took a few gentle steps in the direction they'd been heading.

she cast a glance towards him then, an invitation for him to join her on their continued stroll.