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I was going to die. It wasn’t a fleeting worry for the future or a moment of depression, it was a fact.
“Pickles?!” I called, searching for the missing dust bunny. I still didn’t know why she ran off, but it didn’t matter. I needed to find her again, end of story.
If only it wasn’t so cold… If the snow relented, then I’d be able to retrace my footsteps but the wind just kept blowing them away. There was no way to know where I’d come from or where I was going. The only direction I knew was forward.
Damn it. If I had listened to that human girl and stayed in the cabin, I wouldn’t have gotten lost in the snowstorm. I’d be safe and sound around a fire, happily shielded from the elements. But then… What about Pickles?
As much as I loved that damn bunny, I was angry at her. If she’d just
