Silver Creek I can tell you where I'm going but don't ask where I've been

Dagfinn glanced to Amber for help, confused and frustrated by how this introduction was going. He'd thought it a good enough plan, but now Spring was doubting him while Amber stayed silent, and all the reasons this was a bad idea came rushing back to him.

I have to get away from this, he thought, but he had to do his duty. Do what he believed his father would have done, what Dagfinn knew was right. Heräät karhu, tapaat karhun, Askel would say, and Dag certainly had woken a bear - Was this one bigger than he had the strength to fend off?

It took all the young male's strength to grin through the turmoil choking off his lungs, and to turn away from the very real part of him that want to just turn tail and run - his legs were long, and they would never catch up to him before he got back to his family, back to his Lotte and her comforting words and warm fur and fun stories. He'd thought that love would be like that - like a fairytale from his youth. He'd thought that he would be the hero of the tale, swooping in a saving the day and providing for the damsel in distress.

But he looked to Amber, and she was silent, and Dagfinn realized that he was the damsel in this tale.

"I don't know what to do," he murmured, broken. "Just - will you tell me what to do?"

He spoke the words aloud, to the conversation at large and not just to the woman who'd guided him thus far. He'd tried Amber's way, he'd tried Burke's way, he'd tried his own way and all had failed. Maybe Spring would be better. She had to be.