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. Sturm skidded past him, overbalanced by his pack,
and dropped to his knees in a drift that seemed to swallow
him to the shoulders. Tanis helped his friend to his feet. His
stomach lurched in fear when he saw a dark red spot of
fresh blood on Sturm's bandage.
"Don't stop!" he cried above the wind's scream. "We've
got to go on!"
"Aye, Tanis, we do! But WHERE? We're lost!"
They were. Or they might be. Tanis didn't know any
more. He was fairly certain of his direction. This hollow
was familiar, more filled with snow and drifts, but still
familiar. Or was that only hope, the last thing inside him
that hadn't frozen yet? He could not see ahead the length of
his arm. Had they come to the shelter? Had they passed it?
He couldn't think, and he did not see anymore how it
mattered. Now it only mattered that they keep moving.
The deadly lethargy of freezing had been dogging them
with patient tenacity. To give in now to aching limbs, to sit
down just once to rest, to ease the burning of their lungs,
the fire licking behind their eyes, would be to die.
And we'll not freeze to death an arm's length from that
damned shelter! Tanis vowed.
But Sturm went down a few moments later and did not
rise
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