I was digging, digging, digging. Digging for all my life was worth. His dying body lay beside me as I dug, though the company was rather heartbreaking. No. It was more than just heartbreaking, but I couldn't find a better word, I had to keep digging. I had already dug past the ice and snow, and was now struggling through the rock-like earth. My fingers were worn raw, all of them bleeding, but the ice acted like novacaine, and I couldn't feel the pain through the numbness. I had no way of locating a shovel in this godforsaken corner of the earth, and so I had to use the resources given to me. My fingernails.
Only the stars above me were there to watch me work, their millions of eyes glittering curiously. He was there too, of course, but his eyes were not on me, they were shut tight, waiting for this nightmare to end. His quick, shallow breathing acted like a tune to keep me going faster. He spoke not a word, just breathed, desperately clinging to life. This continued on for hours, the frigid wind whipping at our skin.
Finally I had dug a hole big enough to be satisfactory for what I was burying, and tossed it in. What exactly I tossed in that hole should be of no concern to you, or anyone in the world really. This item had no reason of showing itself to the world again, and I could only hope that it stayed buried there until the ends of time. Franticly I started covering up the hole, kicking in the ice and dirt, my fingers had had enough. I could almost see the bone on their tattered and bleeding tips.
That being finished, I knelt down beside the dying form, gently brushing the hair out of his pallid face. He looked as if he was going to say something, but he was far too cold to work his lips properly. My breathing was almost as quick as his was, I was close to panicking. I knew not how to save his life, but there was no way I could simply allow him to die. I had to find someone to help him. I had to.
In a decision that was the only real choice I had, I shoved my tired and bleeding arms beneath him, and attempted to lift him from the ice-covered ground. He was heavy, and under normal circumstances there would be no way I could do it, but I was desperate and terrified, and I drew all the strength I could muster from those primal emotions.
Having lifted him, I stumbled a few paces, the wind whipped open my remaining wing. I heard a sharp snapping noise break though the rushing scream of the wind, and I knew that the singed remains of my wing had broken. I just couldn't feel it. The cold had me numbed in its icy claws. At this point I didn't care. Looking down, I could see nothing but eternal blackness, and a flurry of snow churning angrily into it. The edge of a cliff.
Andre's broken body had gone limp in my arms. His ragged panting increased. He was dying. I had to save him. My eyes turned once again to the colossal gorge, when a sudden impulse hit me. I sucked in what very well could be my last breath. I let my legs become as leaden as the dying man in my arms, and toppled over the edge.