The loneliness of the Cascades compared to all of those solitary nights spent in the lab back at Harvard, and Allison couldn't help but sympathize with Torsten. Still, the thought of being able to be in such a beautiful place would have made up for the lack of socialization. After all, Allison had spent the last eight years rather isolated between college and then medical school, always bogged down with classes and studying, not to mention the late night labs. It was hard to remember the last time she had had a spare moment to be a real person, to go out and have a little fun. Torsten didn't seem like the partying type, but he had a warm personality, the type of guy who should have had all the friends in the world.

After dinner, Allison rose from the couch, wanting to help Torsten with the dishes. She felt guilty for imposing on him this way, and he had been so kind to her. “Are you sure?” she asked, ending up leaned against the counter in the small kitchen. The thought of her host being mauled by bears wasn't pleasant, and she didn't like that he felt the need to give up his bed just for her. Still, he seemed to insist and thought nothing of it as he moved about the cabin and drew a gun from a small box hidden in a chest by the bed. He certainly did have a lot of weapons, but Allison wasn't afraid. 

Torsten's explanation left Allison feeling a bit embarrassed, having not realized he was so traditional. She supposed she forgot that some people weren't comfortable sharing a space with someone of the opposite sex, and she respected his decision, smiling at the bits of Finnish peeking into his sentences. “Thank you,” she returned his goodnight with a smile, “sleep well.” 

The thought of being up by four in the morning caused Allison to frown, but she was tired enough from the drive and commotion to sleep through the night. Whatever time it was, she would get a few good hours in before morning, and be good to go with Torsten to the Amish community. She was ready to get to her apartment, feeling that she would finally be able to relax once she was in Portland. Putting the notion of never getting there out of her mind, Allison turned down the heavy quilt on the bed and slipped her shoes off before getting beneath the covers. Sleeping in her jeans wasn't comfortable, but she would have felt disrespectful to be sleeping in anything else. 

Rest came easily that night, and Allison didn't dream at all she slept peacefully, warm and cozy in a modest bed. A knock on the door jarred her from her sleep, and Allison gave a displeased huff into the pillow, before turning over and getting up. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes and looking out the window, Allison could see that it was still dark outside—it must have been four o'clock. “I'm up,” she called, hoping Torsten would be able to hear her.