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It felt like needles on his face, flakes of snow stinging and burning each place they landed. The wind was the blade for execution, tearing through his clothing and freezing the air around him making each step harder as it sucked the oxygen from his lungs. David wasn’t wearing the best clothes for winter weather either, he was still in his shitty boots and it wasn’t like his jacket and pants were any better.
He couldn't remember how long he had been trudging through the snow, nor could he remember why walking deeper into the forest and up basically a fucking mountain was better than staying in his car.
But that came back to him as soon as he heard a loud pop of a gun somewhere behind him. David couldn't tell if it was at him, his general direction, or facing somewhere else entirely and the wind was just fucking with him. It didn't matter, as long as he got away from the men chasing him. Why were they chasing him again? Never mind it didn't matter, he did something to piss them off which didn't surprise him; he probably just punched the wrong person. His focus needed to be on getting away and to somewhere safe but he had an inkling that they were just going to let him freeze to death as the storm seemed to continue to increase its ferocity.
There was a pause in his stride; he needed to figure out what he was doing and where he was going. Glancing back, a frown carved itself into his face, his footsteps were quickly disappearing into the snow as the wind swirled and drove new and loose snow into the trail. Okay, well, going back to where he started from had a few cons plus now it would be probably worse to navigate. . .but he couldn't keep walking aimlessly either. David shook his head and tucked his chin deeper into the collar of his jacket before taking more wary steps into the storm
Snap!
That's the first thing the scrapper heard, nothing else registered until a few seconds later as pain tore through the soft, muscular flesh of his leg. Adrenaline pumped through the Brit’s veins as he dropped down and felt around for what had bit into his ankle with freezing fangs.
He knew what it was, he had seen them in media, online, in books, and whatever but the unnecessary brutality of it always got to him. But now that he was trapped within one, their brutal nature truly became apparent.
Numb fingers tore at freezing metal jaws of the now revealed bear trap that had once been lying in wait beneath the snow. Skin bloodied and stuck to the frigid metal, his nails cracked and broken from prying. By the time he was able to free himself, his fingers were grisly and being eaten away by the frigid environment he was stuck in. Choked sobs escaped the fighter’s throat as he tried to push himself to stand but the pain of the snapped bones and torn flesh wouldn’t allow him to even put a gentle amount of pressure onto his leg.
It made him feel pathetic and weak, being downed by a simple yet savage mechanism yet he was able to withstand being beaten an inch of his life. But he couldn’t stop, stopping meant freezing, and now that he was handicapped it was going to take him even longer to get to safety, where ever safety was.
Evan’s eyes slowly peeled open as quiet beeping alerted him, a gruff sigh escaped him as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Slowly, he slid himself off of his bed and wandered over to the beeping. Right, he had managed to get his hands on some traps with alerts for when they caught something. Tired Green eyes rolled over to the clock near his bed and then to the uncovered window. It was too fucking early to do this but at the same time, part of him pitied the animal stuck in the trap with the raging storm. A groan escaped the trapper’s lips as he dressed himself up in weather-appropriate clothes before grabbing his rifle and tromping out his door. While it wasn’t his brightest idea to go stomping around during the night he was still going to keep himself prepared, he brought with him a pack full of necessary supplies to make sure he would be able to make it through the ruthless storm and back.
A heavy mask and goggles blocked his face and eyes from the sharp flakes raining hell down upon his figure, it didn’t bother him too much though, but it was rather annoying trying to make his way to the trapped animal. It had to have been around half an hour or less by the time he reached the trap only to find it had been pried open and a dark trail of blood gave him a good idea on where to go. Readying his rifle, keeping a bullet chambered and the safety still on, Evan quietly followed the blood trail. Each step was steady and slow, his body tensed and ready for a possible frightened animal to launch themselves at him or to run off and prolong their suffering even more.
Now what was on the end of that short trail was not what he was expecting. It wasn’t any bear or deer, nor was it some other animal, but a person and an underdressed one at that. Unloading his rifle and swinging it onto his back, he quickly made his way over to the injured man and checked for a pulse. It was there, but the man was too cold to the touch. Evan had few options, but his own consciousness wouldn’t allow any more blood on his hands than there already was. Crouching down, the American heaved the man onto his shoulders. He was heavier than the other expected, but it wouldn’t deter him. Heavy footsteps moved quickly to follow their past movements to try and beat the storm from hiding them.
Evan grabbed his door and quickly opened it and pushed his way in, he could worry about the snow mess later, he had a half-frozen and injured person on his hands. Walking over to the bed, he sat the unconscious man down letting their limp form rest against him as he quickly stripped them, taking the cold and frozen clothes off their pale body.
The heavy clothing hid away toned muscle but more wounds than the hunter had expected as well. Heavy bruising coated the other’s chest and a reopened slash in the wounded man’s side bled onto the freezing skin and onto the blankets of the once occupied bed.
Laying the wounded man onto his back, Evan snatched a large box full of medical supplies from under his bed and got to work tending to the wounds. The leg was something he could not set here in his cabin, sooner or later once the storm died down, he would have to get the other off the mountain and back into civilization, but he wasn’t sure when that would be. Carefully, Evan positioned the man so that their wounded leg was well elevated but still wrapped up to keep it just as warm as the rest of the owner’s body.
With wounds having been tended to the best they could be, the next issue was keeping the other warm enough to bring their temperature up. With a sigh, the American washed his hands and stripped off his snow-covered winter gear so that he was back down to the clothes he had on before he left his home.
Setting an alarm, he crawled onto his couch and snugly wrapped himself in a few spare blankets that had been previously thrown over the back of the old lounge. He would check on the other in maybe a half an hour, but now they both needed rest. Explaining what was going on whenever the other woke was going to be just as tiresome as the walk to the trap and back.