Smoke still rose into the air, mixing with the night shadows only to be lost in the ebony skies. Wolfrunner bent over Danielle’s unconscious body, examining her closely. Her face was streaked from the soot and ashes, but she didn’t seem to be burned. He could see the steady rise and fall of her breasts, so he knew she was breathing. Cupping his hands in the river, he proceeded to wash her face clean. When that was accompanied, his eyes traveled down to her ankle, and he saw it was swollen almost twice its normal size. She must have injured it when she fell earlier in the day, but she hadn’t complained. He had pushed her mercilessly and she must have been in agony. Examining her ankle, his eyes wandered to her shoes. He saw the soles of her shoes had been worn through and the bottoms of her feet were raw and bleeding. Gathering her into his arms, Wolfrunner held her limp body against him. Great Father, he had thought her weak and unworthy, when she had possessed great courage. When the fire had raged out of control, and it looked like they would both be burned alive, had she not urged him to leave her and save himself?
