-;:A Little Excerpt::-

-;:A Little Excerpt::-

"Yoli...? Yoli!"
His shaking hands rolled the marten onto her back with excessive care. Cloudy, rain-glazed eyes stared through him under feeble, labored breaths. There was blood. Everywhere. Dribbling down the side of her mouth, soaking her tank top, pooling in over saturated areas of her clothing, and onto the barren ground she rested upon. His mind jumbled, whatever words he had to give prior blurring and slipping away. Dustin softly gripped her underarms, gingerly hoisting her until she was supported against his knelt form. She fell back onto him without protest, her frail body slumping like a marionette. He brushed the hair out of her eyes, combing it with soft strokes. His other hand used his sleeve to dab the blood from her neck, her chin, her cheek...
She sputtered suddenly, and he tilted her forward, patting her back tentatively. Blood splattered the ground as she coughed and Dustin winced. After a moment, the convulses died. He retrieved her back to the crook of his neck. His arms slung around her, his hands meeting, laced, at her waist.
"Yoli, we need to get out of here..."
His voice trailed off to a croak. He hadn't even taken notice of the hot water in his eyes or the tightening of his throat until then. Restraining his panic, Dustin hastily removed his hoodie. He bundled it around her lithe body like a makeshift blanket. Then, with one hand coiled under her thighs while the other supported her back, he hauled the marten up into his arms.
+++++
The wind hissed as Dustin hastily began his journey down the weather-beaten trail. He tripped countless times on the uneven ground yet managed to keep his footing. His body felt like one of an old man's, weakened from Jack Frost's vicious bite. Beaten and battered as he was though, he kept his feet going somehow. He wasn't sure just far he'd come. He couldn't see more than a couple feet ahead of him. Snow fell thick as mist. His legs were buried to the knees on the trail alone. No doubt it would be waist high in an hour's time if he didn't get moving. His body felt crooked from the freezing cold seeping through his wet fur, making his movements stiff. Coupled with stinging sensation, he wished he had been more prepared for this.
Dustin glanced down at the marten in his arms. A light layer of snow had cultivated on his hoodie where she was wrapped snug. He couldn't see her very well, but the little plumes of warm air invading the wall of dancing snowflakes told him she was still very much alive if only barely. For how much longer? He chose not to consider. Instead, he focused his attention on his tired limbs and the road ahead.