The Floodlands Hold Me, Love Me, Stay With Me [m?]

The smell was incredible. He'd never encountered anything like it before.

Dag faniced himself a charmer, suave and debonair. Sometimes, he thought about the strange, halfling creature he'd met on the coast. Sometimes he imagined himself rescuing her from a terrible foe, and sweeping her away with him to the beautiful, frozen tundras. He would take her home to his mother to be cooed over, present her to his father like a trophy, and then... and then...

He'd never smelled anything like this, before. Nothing had ever come close, in all his imaginings. Nothing had ever made him feel this way - as though bringing the Murhe Sala home would not be enough. The ending to these tales had always pleased him before, but now he couldn't help but feel that there was something more. Something Laerke hadn't told him, something Lotte had never been able to articulate in all her tales.

But maybe she didn't know. Maybe, like Dagfinn, she needed something like this scent to wake her up.

"Hello?" he called into theearly autumn haze, unable to track down the scent through the mask of the water that surrounded him. "Please, I - I need to - " He couldn't say. Didn't know. "I need to know what this scent is," he continued, deciding that that was the top priority, at the moment. After that, he could decide what needed to be done about it.

For, although it was very pleasant, Dagfinn felt he might go mad if this mysterious call went unanswered.