Too Cold to Move

It was too cold to move. The shore was there, indeed, I had taken my shift, which was wrapped around my head to keep it dry, and thrown it onto the mossy sward of the land. Then I had done the same with Estarfin's shirt. But it had exhausted me. Throwing two light weight pieces of clothing had exhausted me.

We had all drawn to a halt. Even Parnard, who was the least affected by the inclement weather. 

"Come, m-meldanya, it is not far." I urged Estarfin. He just stood there shaking, his eyes glazed. 

"No f-further," he whispered.

"Yes, further. " Oh, I would have liked nothing better at that moment than to sink into the cold, and never rise. But that was not our destiny. We had not come this far to die in the Marsh! 

He had drawn me out of the fire, I would draw him out of the ice, with some help. There was no going on for me without him.

"Parnard, p-push Estarfin along, I have his hand and will p-pull him after me."

Estarfin took my hand but looked at me with forlorn eyes and began muttering 'nique'* over and over to himself.. Parnard started pushing him, though it was not easy and the water grew deeper. 

"I s-ee the N-north St-tar reflected in the water," said the Wood Elf, now chattering himself. "D-don't just s-stand there, Estarfin."

Estarfin caught his breath, and managed a nod. He moved a foot forward.

* Nique - It freezes

(Picture by Estarfin)