“You look unhappy, child,” Tali heard Briar say in her croaky voice. She had been sitting on an old wooden swing, absentmindedly swaying back and forth. She’d already kicked away all the snow in the area and was now busying herself with kicking at the dirt with the toe of her boot. “It’s not just because I tricked you into drinking the sleeping draught, is it?”

Tali looked up at her, narrowing her eyes a bit. “No. Although, not cool, Briar. I thought you were in my corner.”

Briar shrugged apologetically. “Vikna made me do it. You were too relentlessly underfoot, getting in the way as they tried to help those boys. There was no other way to keep you at bay, short of physically restraining you. Yet now they are both near recovered, but here you are, alone in the cold, not trying to get near either of them.”

Tali looked back down at the mini-mountain of dirt she was building with her feet. “Well. Now I know they’re both going to be fine,” she said, trying to keep her expression neutral.

“Yes. They are. One would think you’d be happy about that,” Briar said calmly.

Tali snapped her head up. “Of course I’m happy about it!”

Briar raised an eyebrow. “Yes. You appear delighted,” she said, her shrewd mismatched eyes far too knowing.

“Obviously, I am beyond thrilled that they’re both okay,” Tali said, sighing. “I’ve just...well, I’ve got other stuff on my mind.”

Briar gave her a solemn nod at that.

“You’re being pulled apart,” Briar said.

“What?” Tali asked, eyes widening.

“I have always been able to see into the heart of things, Tali. It’s a talent I’ve had since I was a small girl. But I don’t need to use my gifts to see through you, child. Your chest may as well be cut open before my eyes, your beating heart laid out before me. I see it all. “

Tali stared at her.

She knows. She definitely knows. Maybe everyone knows.

“I want to run away,” she said quietly.

“I know you do,” Briar said, reaching out to stroke her hair softly. Tali closed her eyes against the comforting touch. “But you won’t. Because that would be weak. And despite your soft human frame, you are not weak. You’ve got fire in your soul.”

Tali shook her head. She didn’t feel that way. If anything, all she had was a couple of smoldering embers that were threatening to go out.

“I don’t,” she muttered.

“Let us speak more plainly, child. I do enjoy my riddles, but perhaps now is not the time. You stand at a crossroads but the earth continues turning. The time is upon you to make a choice.”

“Uh, Briar. I dunno if you bears have a different definition of the word ‘riddle’ but that was some pretty obscure speech right there.”

A flicker of a grin crossed the old woman’s features, but then she nodded seriously once more.

“Yes, I know. Very well. I shall get right to it. You have heard that Sheena asked him to stay. You don’t want him to,” Briar said, continuing to stare her down.

“No. I don’t,” Tali admitted. “He-he has a life in Newcomb. A nice life.”

“So you want him to return to your human town. To remain there as your friend, as a father figure to your brother’s child. To watch you build a life with another man? Forever on the outside, looking in?” Briar asked, and Tali winced.

That sounded horrible. And utterly selfish to expect. And that would be how it would go.

“I...that’s not...” Tali stuttered, tears pricking her eyes. “I just don’t want him to make this choice for the wrong reasons. She might care about him, but I think she cares more about how useful he can be. She doesn’t love him. Not the way he deserves to be loved.”

“And you do?” Briar asked quietly.

Tali’s chest tightened so much it was a struggle to breathe. She did. She did. She did. In another life, in an alternate universe she would have given him everything and loved him for all that he was, all that he did, all the big things and the little things. She’d kiss him awake every morning, and whisper how lucky and grateful she was to have his love. She’d let him know every day how uniquely incredible he was and make sure he never felt lonely again.

She swallowed hard, trying to get the words out to answer Briar’s question. She could feel something supernatural coming off this woman, and felt she hadn’t been exaggerating when she claimed to be able to read into the heart of things. If she already knew all that Tali felt, she might as well speak it aloud.

“Yes. I do,” Tali choked out. “Briar, how could I not? He’s so good, and so brave, and he-he deserves so much more. I’m scared that he’ll get hurt, and that I’m a factor that’s driving him to this—”

“Because you won’t give him your heart?” Briar asked.

Tali shut her eyes tight.

“I can’t,” she moaned. “I’ve already given it to Cole. It belongs to Cole. I can’t. And I love Cole. I really do. I love him so much. It’s not...guilt or obligation. I love him. And I loved him first.”

“So your solution is to box your feelings away? To never admit this thing that burns inside you? To lie to them both?”

Tali shook her head.

“I don’t see another option. No matter what I do, someone will end up hurt. No matter what I do, a part of me will feel like it’s missing, broken.”

“There is another option, child,” Briar said.

“What’s that?” Tali asked miserably.

“The truth. You could give them both the truth of it, and see what path might be uncovered when you choose honesty. You could blaze your own trail, child. It is limited, and so very human, to assume there are only two paths and you must choose one or end up lost. Take a chance. Step into the wilds.”

Tali stared at her, feeling brokenhearted, lost, and helpless. “Thank you, Briar, for that super uncryptic and non-riddle-y advice. But I think I’d rather another sleeping potion though, if you’ve got one.”

“I’m afraid not, child,” she said, shaking her head. “You are rested enough. I’ll not help you hide from yourself. Spend some time with your thoughts. Uncover what truths are inside your head and your heart. And if you can, choose honesty.”