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“H-here…” a weakened voice called, and she forced herself to follow the traveling noise. It was hard to navigate. The wind moved his voice in all sorts of directions, confusing her beyond belief. Eventually, she managed to find him.
He was still on the ground, his gray cloak wrapped tightly around his figure and his face decorated with snow specks, soaked hair and redness. She breathed a chilled sigh of relief.
“Mister Walter, are—are you all right!” She helped him to his feet with delicate care, afraid he would break like a frozen statue.
“I am,” he answered beneath the bustling hail. “We have to…get inside…follow me!”
She nodded, gladly agreeing to his proposition. The temperature had dropped further—if that was even possible—and it was getting harder to breathe against the frosty wind. Walter staggered further ahead, and her bare hand clenched his cloak for guidance.
A crackling noise reached her ears, and as she squinted her eyes to locate that deafening sound, she screamed in horror. A branch, twice the size of herself, headed her way, and it crashed against her body, sending her meters back from the stable boy and her only hope for survival.
She could hardly speak; her breath had been knocked away in one blow, along with her resolve. She attempted to climb away from the branch. But it kept its hold over her, forcing her back against the icy ground and pushing tightly against her stomach.
“Over here…” she rasped quietly, panic surging through her veins. “Anyone…Simon…help.”
She was going to die. With one final push, she fell back and laid helplessly beneath the chill, the world around her turning black.
