Lucien hurried toward the path that led to the streamlet. He had to get Soren to safety first. The cold hand of fear that raced through Lucien's spine threatened to freeze over and break him from inside out. He had never been in this kind of situation, with the life of someone he cared about dearly hanging on the line. Sure, the news of the death of Olaf hurt, but it was nothing compared to what he felt now. Every breath Soren took was strained and came out as a wheeze, and the cloth wrapped around the injury was quickly soaking with blood. If he did not find help and fast, Soren would be dead by nightfall.
When the streamlet was in sight, a pink fabric gleaming on top of a rock caught Lucien's attention. He had been so concerned about Soren that he had completely forgotten about Levina.
He quickened his pace and paused in front of a rock. He carefully put Soren down, resting his back against a huge boulder. Soren flinched and muttered a thank you.
