The cold bled into her
Seeming to meld into her very being as her breath came out in chest stinging gasps.
How long would this wasteland go on?
She'd been trudging wearily for over an hour through the ice constantly doubting her every move.
Should she have left her clapped up car, should she just have stayed on the frozen roadway til someone came along?
Wrapping her thin blazer tighter around her she forced herself to keep going. The last village was only few miles back. Never had she felt this mind numbingly cold. But then she had never trekked through these hills in deepest winter...
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"When mister safety catch is not on mister crossbow is not your friend". Detritus learns about weapon safety ( Terry Pratchett )
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