Petra awakens as rough hands move her from the doorway. She tries to struggle away from them, but they hold her firmly. There are voices in the background, but she can only catch every few words.
"….the hell….." this voice was low. It had to belong to a man. It was also close to her, perhaps the one who held her?
"Just… blanket… Vlad…" The language was heavily accented Russian, a language she had learned while in the complex. This voice was much higher then the other, and seemed to be chiding whoever 'Vlad' was. Petra tries to open her eyes as she is laid down upon something soft. Something warm and heavy is laid over her body.
"Frost… look… toes. Think … live?" Petra manages to force her eyes open and stares up at the woman standing over her, examining her feet. "She is awake!" The woman drops her foot onto something soft and moves to look into Petra's face. "Do not…" her voice fades out for a moment, only to reassert itself. "…alright."
Petra tries to make her numb mouth work properly, but all that comes out is a jumbled "wvhere?" She understood much more Russian then she could speak, especially in her almost-completely frozen state.
"Do not speak." The kindly voice says, as she touches Petra's cheek. The warmth of the blanket and the woman's voice allow her to feel safe enough to drop into unconsciousness once again.
The woman pulls Vlad to the other side of the room, near a large fire lighting up the room. "Vlad, this must be the girl the men from the compound were looking for." Her voice is firm, but her eyes are on the girl. "She's half dead and she is going to lose at least two toes and one finger to frostbite. It is a miracle she will not lose her ears or nose."
Vlad looks at his wife, eyes narrowed. "You do not want to give her up." He does not make it a question. He knows his wife well enough by now to realize that when she speaks so calmly about frostbite that she is very concerned.
His wife sighs, "She cannot be more then fifteen, a huge bruise on her face, and what could only be blood on her clothing? I have never trusted that place." Her eyes are still fixed on the brown-haired girl laying under her best home-made quilt. "She made her way here in a blizzard Vlad. God must have led her to us, it would be a sin to turn her over to them." Spittle flies out of her mouth as she says the word 'them'.
"They will be back." Vlad says, biting his lip. "If they should find her…" His voice trails off as he looks at his home. "Alla, we could lose everything. This home, the bar..." He stops as he looks at his wife. She is still looking longingly at the girl. Nothing would convince her that this girl was not worth saving from the compound. "We will make it happen."
A smile splits across Alla's face and she wraps her arms around her husband. In his ear she whispers, "We will not regret this. God will reward us for helping this poor child."