Whitefish River Just an old memory

She felt teeth gently clamp over her scruff. Not to puncture or tear, but to assist. She gave no reaction other than a shivering twitch of her skin at the contact. The glossy sheen over her eyes begun to fade. She understood that he meant to help her. To take her somewhere, that was presumably safe. The question was whether of not she was willing to put forth the effort on her part.

In her he sparked a glimmer of hope, this benevolent yet so simple act. It was enough. Freezing to death out in the open did sound like a terrible way to die, after all. Chai may be lost in a void of hopelessness, but her body had not lost the will to live. Weakly, on shaky legs, she attempted to rise. She stumbled once, twice. Then found her footing, however precarious and leaned in against his side for support. Unseeing of where he was taking her, she wordlessly let the white stranger guide her to shelter.