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Summary
She’s exhausted and frostbitten so she stays on her knees, numb fingers curled within frozen clumps of dirt until they find her.
Not like it was difficult. Hardly a victory, but John certainly cheers like it is.
She isn’t the poetic type, not by a long shut, though the image of John pushing through the thick underbrush to get to her with a halo of the first inkling of morning light approaching...it’s exhilarating. Beautiful.
*Continuation of 'Radio Call Confessions'*
Series
- Part 2 of Radio Calls
