Cedar Sweep but rye love isn't good love, boys; Did I ever tell you 'bout the time I -

Dagfinn was exhausted beyond all belief. Hunting and patrolling was tiring enough when done for one pack, but two? Near impossible. Spring had been right, but Dag was still determined to do his part for both packs. The one that'd taken him in, and the one that'd taken his own burdens. He could not bring Amber to live with him at Arthendal, and he could not abandon those who'd been so kind to him, either.

At least, he'd thought that at first. Now, though, he wasn't sure what to think. He couldn't keep this up - only that was certain.

He'd been wandering toward Silver Creek with two fat rabbit clutched in his tired jaw when he heard Amber's summoning howl. Pained and panicked and very far from home. It took all his strength to keep the rabbits between his teeth as he darted off toward the sound. His heart was hammering and his vision fuzzy by the time he reached her, but when he saw the gray stranger that stood near her, his hackles still rose.

"Who are you?" he demanded, barrelling toward the pair and buffeting him away with Amber by sheer size alone. An angry growl was already in his throat; he could not see that Amber was fine, that the stranger had caused her no harm.