The snow beats down against my tri-colored fur in the harshest way possible; the flakes are heavy against my tiny frame and harsh against my thin skin. I am lost there is no doubting that. My brother has long erased himself from my senses and I worry about his wellbeing far beyond my own. He is much larger than I am but only by a few pounds and a few inches but nonetheless he is still frail. Without our body heat bound together he would freeze.

Time is against us now as I race forward and look with dark and pink eyes hoping to spot any sign of life. I scan and sniff hoping I can find Easton…hoping he is not a frozen heap upon the cold ground. I do not make a sound, I do not beg or whine or cry out to be found. I know that bringing attention to myself can only mean trouble in an unforgiving land. So I plant my haunches to the ground and bury myself low into the ground to find any warmth between myself and the frozen dirt. It is all I can do to keep myself from freezing. “I should have stayed closer…” I think to myself, but it is too late to cry over spilt milk.

I only hope for rescue now.