Sarah turns around, looking at the bear. “How am I supposed to even get it off the ground?” She tilts her head, putting her hands on her hips.
Kicking its leg, she watches it flop in the muddied blood. She looks back at Peter. He leans his head against the wall again. Eyes closed, he takes in jagged breaths. She looks at the blood on his face. One of them needs to clean it off. It will most likely be her.
Peter keeps his eyes closed and shrugs. “I have an idea.” He opens his eyes, moving his head off the stone. “How much do you think they can pull?” He nods toward the opening.
Sarah puts out her hands to either side. “Who?” She looks outside at Chess and Shadow, grazing on dead grass sticking above the snow. “The horses?” She gestures to them.
Peter tilts his head to the side with anot
