The weak flame resisted the wind, but Ester knew it wouldn't last. Damon needed more than makeshift warmth—he needed real shelter.
She looked up and saw, through the veils of the blizzard, the dark silhouette of a rocky wall to the east. The vertical lines, stark against the fury of the ice, suggested a crevice or cave at its base.
"Let's get out of here," she said firmly, dismantling the small pile of twigs before the wind could scatter dangerous sparks.
Damon tried to protest, but the sound that came out was only a faint grunt. His body was still shaking uncontrollably.
Ester didn't wait for an answer. She slipped one arm under his legs and the other around his back, lifting him with a precise movement. His weight strained her muscles, and the soft snow slowed each step, but she didn't hesitate.
"You're heavier than you look," she murmured, more to herself than to him.
