His head was pounding.
Wilson curled up into a ball in the snow, somewhat thankful for the current weather. The snow helped to numb whatever ache was currently plaguing him. Though, god knows he'd freeze to death if he stayed out here for too long.
He couldn't really do anything, though. Any time he tried to get up, the world felt like it was spinning and he'd have to lay himself back into the snow.
If he could just hold out long enough for someone to find him, then he'd be okay. Hopefully they'd bring some materials for a temporary campfire while he recovered from this… thing.
Did he even bring a thermal stone?
A quick check of his pockets revealed that no, he didn't bring one.
Maybe it was in his pack.
Ignoring the looming ache that had settled over his body, he rolled onto his side, and spotted his pack next to a rock.
He shivered, and reached out to grab it, hand only barely faltering.
Wilson dragged the pack over, before rooting through it for the stone.
Thankfully, he'd managed to pack one -- still warmed from the heat of the fire back at base camp -- and he held it to his chest in some desperate bid to stay somewhat warm.
His fingers started to tingle with numbness. Not an unpleasant feeling, but not one he currently wanted, regardless.
He shut his eyes, giving a wheeze as he lay there.
He was going to die alone, just like he'd always been.
-o0O0o-
Author Notes: I'm going to write so much fucking fic for this fandom, and nobody can stop me.
Also, this fic takes place after Wilson turns into a werewolf for the first time. He had no idea how to control it and fucked right off into the woods in the middle of winter.
