I make a fire to start with, my hands shaking and covered in blood. The smell is on me, so strong in my nose that I have to keep checking over at Christian to make sure he's still alive and breathing. Sometimes a flash will come in my mind's eye and I picture him with sightless eyes like the deer, gazing at me in accusation because I'm too useless to fight and not strong enough to save him.
The fire sparks and I feed it small chips of wood until it's big enough to provide light and a little heat. Crystal Beasts don't like fire too much, but it won't keep them away forever if they're hungry or out for revenge.
"Come on," I say, putting Christian's arm around my shoulders so I can help him over to where the fire is brightest and warmest. He's shivering, his face flushed at the cheeks and
