Dawn Treader Valley Fisher, Fisher where are you.

She spun in a circle, slowly at first, eyes raking over the surrounding forestry. Frolic then revolved a second time, more swiftly, as if to catch anything—or anyone—that might’ve evaded her on first pass. Despite the rapid movement, her eyes caught and hooked on a dark figure that stepped out of the shrubbery in the middle distance.

Otto? Frolic blurted, halting so suddenly she almost lost her balance.

Her heart jumped into her throat. Should she bolt? Should she confess? Frolic had heard of the fight-or-flight response but experiencing it was something else. She felt like she was being torn in half.

OttoI’msosorryIonlydidittohelpyoupleasedon’t—

The words came out of her in an abrupt rush, which stoppered just as suddenly when she realized this man wasn’t Otto. The resemblance was downright uncanny but when she finally chanced a glance at his face, she realized his eyes were the wrong color.

Frolic noisily sucked in her bottom lip and froze again.