She can tell he is trying to come into focus, but the cold does its best to drag him back under. Thankfully her persistence seems to pay off and finally he is moving, attempting to stand. Though the sound of his voice does little to ease all of her worries. His voice is deeper, thick with the sleepfulness that should come with a well-rested night that they had not had. They should both be shivering, teeth clacking, instead of this grogginess they both struggled with. Him more than her.
“You can do it.” She encouraged, believing in him more than herself, and if she had done it then she did not doubt that he could. Only when he finally made the effort to stand did she stop lipping at his face and forelock, no longer needing him to focus than to go back to sleep.
On wobbly legs, Eriana chances a step back to give him space. There is no way she could catch him if he were the one to fall anyways, and if she went back down, she questioned if she would be able to rise again.
“We need to find better shelter.” The young mare sighs, knowing the naked tree in the open field was hardly that. Perhaps in the summer, when its branches were full in with leaves again, but that memory did little to block the wind or cold now. “I….” she starts, but then hesitates, afraid to speak of such weakness. But he had nearly died here in the snow to keep her warm, they were well past that now. “I don’t know how far I can walk. My legs are still weak.”
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