Again, any dialogue that is italicized is meant to be in elvish.


Chapter 29


Legolas and Brego made for the White Mountains with breakneck speed. They did not know if they were being pursued, but the pair did not dare waste any time in looking back to see if they were being followed. The tree line was not far off as the city was built into the mountains where the forests grew and after a short ride, the two made it into the coverage of thick forests.

But they did not stop there. The palace walls were only several hundred yards away from them and it felt too close for comfort. The horse maintained his gait and ran through the untrailed forest for a time, jumping over fallen logs and weaving between trees and dense thickets.

After they had put a great deal of distance between themselves and the city, Brego began to let his pace slacken while he trotted through the leafy ground. They picked their own path through the woods that edged the planes of Gondor and it was not long before they came to an outcropping of mountains that were pushed further forward than the rest of the range. The elf and horse followed the crested base of the mountain and halted their travels at the furthest point.

Legolas listened intently to the sounds of the forests, trying to see if anyone was following them, but they proved to be making the only sounds as the horse's four legs pushed through the thick leaf litter that strayed from the edge of the forest. Added to the crinkling of leaves were the erratic pants from both elf and horse after the exertion they had forced upon themselves.

Legolas looked over the landscape and focused on the city that now felt to be a comfortable distance off. A few miles had been placed between themselves and Minas Tirith, but his keen eyes could see a small group of men mounted on horseback leaving the palace walls to begin searching the immediate area. He tensed as he guessed these men were soldiers trying to pick up their trail, but when the elf felt as though he needed to encourage Brego to move on, the soldiers turned and ventured back behind the white stone walls. The fugitive was not worth their time since his only crime was failing to obey an officer and after investigating the immediate area before them, they called off the chase.

Legolas let out a heavy breath in relief before continuing his labored breathing from before. He felt as though he could not get enough oxygen into his lungs.

Presently, Brego stomped a forehoof into the ground and he seemed agitated. He threw his head about while he let out a sharp cry, demanding what was going on. He did not know why they had to run, for he saw no danger, but the unease of his rider threw his own perceptions off and could not for the life of him figure out why they were so frantic to get out of the palace.

Legolas let out another sigh, this time with a heaviness that spoke of much inner turmoil.

"I am so sorry Brego." the elf whispered. He could not believe he had lost his self control yet again and now another being had to suffer through his issues. He was still worried that Brego had been injured during their flight, but the horse seemed to be running fine and Legolas was a little too desperate to get out of there as fast as he could to stop and check on the horse.

Legolas swung his leg over to slip off of the horse's back, but he was left weaker than he once was and crumpled to the ground when his legs refused to hold him. He drew his knees to himself and held on to them as a tingling sensation rippled through his body. He rested his head against his knees, trying to fight the sudden light headedness and extremely drained feeling that swamped him. His vision began to cloud and he closed his eyes while concentrating solely on breathing. He could feel the beginnings of a wavering consciousness and did not want to pass out here where he was so vulnerable.

His body was beginning to betray him and he knew he was in trouble. This was the dumbest idea and he mentally kicked himself for not thinking this all the way through. He knew his limits, and knew he had been reaching them long ago and yet he pushed himself to venture out here.

Memories had been surfacing more and more frequently and he further berated himself with this poor choice. Hadn't he learned yet? Was last night not enough to tell him he was not stable? His trigger seemed to be the Gondorian tunic, but why he did not connect the city he was in, to being filled with that symbol was beyond him and now a peaceful day out in the woods was nothing but terror and stress.

He should have known better.

Brego turned to the elf and nudged his shoulder while he let out a quiet knicker. The steed almost sounded pleased with himself, but the elf only shook his head at the horse's comment.

"Getting *out* of the city was not the hard part Brego." Legolas mumbled and the horse went still as the elf continued. "I have placed us in a terrible situation…. uuhh!" the elf moaned with frustration. "The whole city is probably on high alert for us now and the moment we show back up, we..."

The elf's voice halted suddenly while the prince went very still. His heart began to race so hard and fast he thought it would pound out of his chest. He clutched his breast at the ache beginning to build with the strenuous beat. He began to tremble as a new panicked sensation overcame him and it filled him with dread. The reality of the situation suddenly dawned on him.

"We will be locked up!" He gasped in common tongue. "They will chain me up and lock me away!"

Dull burning sensations began to flood the elf's wrists and he gripped them one at a time, twisting them in his palms to rub away the rough feeling of tight rope restraints at the thought of having soldiers place cuffs about his limbs.

His breathing hitched several times as he gulped for air and as the minutes dragged on, he found he suddenly could not breathe all together. He gasped for breath around some unknown constricting hindrance and Legolas' fears began to spiral out of control. The last time he had this much trouble breathing, it was due to a tight metal collar and the claustrophobia of being tightly bound in a dark shack. The elf clawed at his neck to try and remove the metal choker he thought to be wearing, but his fingers could not grasp anything which only fueled his distress. Everything was in his head and he did not know how to fight against his own mind. His eyes went wide with terror as he did not know what was happening to him and he suddenly began to fear for his life.

"I cannot breathe!" the elf choked out and his chest heaved rapidly and shallowly as a full fledged panic attack engulfed the elf. It felt as though iron bands had been wrapped around his rib cage and were squeezing him while his ragged and hyperventilated breathing continued. Hazy yellow spots were beginning to dance within his vision as a foggy darkness began to set in.

He did not want to be constrained in the dark and he began to scoot back to a secure location, but he seemed to have very little control over his trembling limbs and could not move more than a few feet. He gave up in relocating and continued the growing battle of breathing. He began to search the area with his compromised vision, but he was still coherent enough to understand they were in the middle of nowhere and any and all safety had been left in Minas Tirith.

He began to feel like a sitting duck and his terrorized mind began to play tricks on him. Paranoia entered his mind and he thought he was being watched by countless men hiding the woods, waiting for just the right moment to spring upon him and take him captive.

His gasping increased.

"Brego! I… I… Something is…. happening! They are here!... They will take us! We… I… need to… go!" he managed to get out between gasping fits, but his train of thought was slowly ebbing away as his world began to spin. His rationality finally caved and he desperately called out for help.

"Stri-der!" he called out for the one person who had been there for him more times than he could count when things turned from bad to worse as the ranger and elf had a long history of getting caught in disastrous and dangerous situations. His delusional mind told him his friend could hear him and he called out again as his choking breaths were beginning to feel like he was breathing under water.

"Strid-er!" But the man did not come... The man would never come. "Please!..."

Brego cocked his ears as if uncertain what to do. He took a hesitant step to the prince and tentatively brushed his muzzle over the elf's shuddering shoulder. The second the animal came into contact with the elf, the terror and panic emanating through the fair being was transmitted to the horse and Brego leapt back with a shriek. The mighty warhorse frantically looked about at their surroundings to try and find what had brought about this unknown fear. He directed his attention to the woods behind him to try and get a glimpse of danger. However, there was nothing around them to pose any threats and the horse was beyond confused.

There was a soft thud behind the horse before all went quiet.

Brego looked back to the elf who was now lying flat on his back upon the ground, completely unmoving. Brego walked back to Legolas and studied the prone form on the ground carefully. His breathing was returning to normal, but was unresponsive to the soft calls the horse gave off and the steed nudged the unconscious elf to rouse him.

Legolas' body rolled limply to his side and Brego gave another shove with his broad nose, pushing the elf to his stomach. When the elf failed to move after that, the horse's fears began to heighten. Again, the animal looked about their surroundings for any indication that danger was near. The fact that he could not tell that anything was close began to make the horse more uneasy.

The horse huffed over the elf's form, trying to detect the source of this sudden change. He could not smell any blood, letting the horse know the prince was not mortally wounded as far as he could tell, and the horse could feel the elf's life force still coursing through the unmoving body. His limited understanding told him the elf was still alive, but what was ailing the prince remained unseen.

Brego took up a defensive position and stepped over the prince to offer protection like a mother elk would do with her calf against a pack of wolves. He was on high alert as he stood over the elf and even the rustling of dried leaves scattering about the forest floor caused the horse to become edgy.

Some moments passed until the prince finally began to stir and the horse immediately bent over to check for himself that the elf was waking up. He pawed the ground at the elf's side, as if trying to encourage the elf to get up and he resumed nudging the elf with his nose to bring the prince all the way back.

Legolas let out a soft confused moan as he blinked his world back into focus. He instantly became aware of a violent headache which was not helped in any way by the horse pushing him around. Legolas carefully picked his head up and saw the horse bringing his nose towards his face and the elf reached his fingers out to the velvety muzzle to halt the horse's movements.

"Bre-go?" the elf questioned hesitantly. The horse responded with a few quiet calls, letting the prince know he was only too happy to find the elf to be alright.

Legolas began to recall what happened and he carefully rolled over and pushed himself to a sitting position. He held his head in his palms as the throbbing continued and he massaged his temples lightly to try and alleviate some of the pounding pressure.

Brego was still uneasy. The warhorse pushed his large head to the elf's chest trying to get a piece of comforting reassurance from his rider. The prince lightly wrapped his arms around the animal's face, holding Brego to try and calm him while seeking the same from the horse. Brego let out a soft grumble as he huffed the elf, doing another check to make sure the prince was alright.

"I… I do not know what happened Brego..." the elf stated as he took a deep breath to calm the shaking that was beginning to set in from the stress. His chest began to burn with a tired ache caused by the strain of his gasping. Legolas slowly let the air out of his lungs as he rested his full weight against the horse's sturdy head.

He was exhausted.

"We need to go back Brego." the elf mumbled but had no desire or will to try and enforce this decision. He knew he should not have come out here and now he had to get back and answer to the chaos he had caused.

He swallowed hard at the thought.

Presently, Brego pulled back and looked over the plains with disappointment rolling off the horse's posture. He was so close to getting a chance to be out here for awhile and now they had to head back in before he could even take a mouthful of green grass.

"I know Brego. I am so sorry to drag you out here and not even give you what you sought, but I have made a poor decision." The elf let out another deep breath and he resumed holding his head when his anxieties began to build once more. "Besides, I have put us at risk by bringing us out here without weapons…"

The horse was going to have none of it. He walked a few paces away from the sitting elf and began to nip at the green grass vigorously to try and take in as much of the sweet blades as possible. Legolas raised his eyes to the horse and watched with a heavy heart. He knew the horse needed to be out here for a while and he promised the horse some free time, but Legolas knew deep down that he himself needed to be back.

The elf reminded sitting on the frigid ground to give the horse as much time as possible out here, but he began to shiver as the cold worked its way into his body. He knew the time to head back was now. He stood slowly to his feet and held his arms out for added balance until he could gain the steadiness to walk and made his way over to the horse.

Brego took a few steps further away as the elf approached, all the while stuffing his already full mouth with more grass.

"Brego, I am sorry but we need to head back."

The horse huffed and as the elf took another step towards the horse, the horse took another step away.

"Brego!" The elf called out with a quick sternness to demonstrate his displeasure.

The horse looked over his haunches at the elf while his jaw worked away in chewing the grass to make room for more. He responded to the elf quietly and Legolas placed his hands on his hips while a startled realization began to enter his mind. The horse did not want to leave, and he would not leave now.

"Brego! I told you we could come out here but when we needed to leave, we could not waste any time!"

The horse took a step away while he flicked his tail as if to shoo the elf away and dismiss him.

"We *do* need to leave now!" the elf argued back. He was nearly shouting, but he worked hard to calm himself. He could feel his heart began to pound again at his extreme unease and his breathing was becoming faster. If the horse would not comply then there was no way he could leave.

He was trapped.

"Brego, please I am begging you. I want to go back - I need to go back." the elf stalked to the horse to try and round him up, but Brego dodged the elf yet again and trotted a few paces away.

Legolas clenched his jaw as he could feel his ire begin to rise.

"BREGO!" His breathing was hitching again and he looked about uncertainly.

It was then that horse could detect a change in the elf and he moseyed over to the fair creature. Yet, rather than give into his wishes, the brown steed reached his head to the elf and nipped the hem of his long green tunic as the horse continued towards the tree line.

Legolas stumbled and fought with the strong animal while the horse practically dragged the elf away. He was lead a small ways into the forest and was brought to the base of a large oak tree. There, the horse quickly let go of the prince's clothing and pushed his head between the elf's legs, pulling him up into the air on his mighty head. The elf called out in surprise as the horse picked him up, and in a fluid and effortless motion, Brego reared onto his hind legs to give him enough height to reach the lowest branches of the large tree. He rubbed his head against the branch, transferring the weight of the stunned elf onto the tree branch, then fell back to all fours and began to walk off. Legolas stood quickly upon the branch as he shouted at the stubborn horse from the heights of the tree.

"Hey! What are you- Brego! Where are you going?! Come back here!"

Legolas was about to jump off of the branch to make the fifteen foot drop when the horse stopped his movements. With a sharp cry the horse locked eyes with the treed elf and made his point.

Legolas was never one to be told what to do and he balled his fists in frustration as Brego made his demands clear. Brego was steadfast that he would not go back until he had his fill of freedoms and the horse offered the uneasy elf the best sorts of protection his equine-mind could come up with. Being in the branches of a tree would offer Legolas the safe security he sought and that left Brego free to graze in the fields unattended. The veteran warhorse assumed all responsibility should an attack occur, but his animal instincts told him he had nothing to worry about. The woods were clear despite what the elf feared and there were still a few good hours of daylight that would allow the horse to have his time outside before they truly had to leave. He would not let anyone take this small easy pleasure away from him. Aragorn had been a good master, in fact the best he had ever had, but there were things in this world worth fighting for. A few hours of freedom was definitely worth a fight and he would have done this to anyone, including the king.

Legolas dropped to a seat on the thick lower tree branch with exacerbation. He understood the horse's demands but that didn't make it any easier for him as a sense of betrayal washed over him. He had left the safety of the palace walls with the promise of being able to leave when they needed to, but that promise was not being fulfilled as he expected it to.

Yet he was not exactly keeping his promise either. The only reason he left the city in the first place was to allow Brego to run free for awhile. However, the moment they set foot in the green plans, he had been the one to back out and wanted to return.

Legolas watched the horse walk to the outskirts of the forest and resumed grazing. It was a strange thing now that he found himself on the outside of the White City. He had wanted for so long to escape the bleak stone walls and find solitude to allow himself the opportunity to sort his problems out. But now that he had gained what he had been wishing for so long, he only wanted to return. With another sigh, the elf scooted back to the tree trunk to settle down for a few hours.

Perhaps he was over reacting.

He shivered again. The frosty air sapped his body heat and the elf wrapped his arms around his stomach before pulling his knees to his chest. He leaned into them to try and trap what little warmth he could.

There was a prick of pain in his torso and the elf frowned when he felt it. He sat up and reached into his tunic, forgetting that he had placed the office supplies in his pocket. He pulled out creased blank parchments. Next, he removed and a bent, frayed feathered-quill which ceased the poking. The fragile items did not make it out of the hectic escape unscathed and the elf scowled at their disheveled appearance. Now he could not even get any work done. He dug deeper in his pocket to locate the inkwell and there was a brief moment of dread, thinking he would find the small vile broken or uncorked. He sighed in relief when the container was intact and the ink was still capped.

He set the items on the branch before him then resumed his warmth-saving posture. He rested his chin on his knees and watched as the horse ventured further out into the field to get to longer grass.

"Do not go too far Brego!" the prince called out and at the sound of the demanding voice, the horse dropped his head where he was and picked at the grass. Legolas continued to watch the horse for a time letting his mind go blank before the cold cut through his senses again and he shuddered. His eyes drifted to the sky and noted that the sun was now hiding behind a thick cover of grey. The passing clouds had turned to a thick blanket of dreary cold and there were no holes in the cloud cover. It was an oddly dense cloud cover but did not look like typical rain clouds.

The elf let out another sigh. He hoped it would not rain. He knew that would only make his already dangerous daytrip turn to a nightmare.

He turned his sights to the city again and watched its never changing image for a time. How would he explain all this to Aragorn? There was no chance of him getting back to the palace without being apprehended and when he was, he wondered how long it would take for them to present his case to anyone. People would certainly think him to be loony if he claimed to be the Lord of Ithilien and currently he had nothing on his person to validate that claim. And if that were the case, he wondered if he would ever be able to get out.

Would he even be given a trial? Or would they throw him in a cell? And for how long? Or where?

He took a ragged breath at that thought. He did not want to go to the dark, underground dungeons of Minas Tirith. Any amount of time stuck in there would not do him any good, and in his current state, he knew he would not survive.

The elf took a slow deep breath.

Why did he need to survive? If he did not, would he not end up… home? That is where he wanted to be all along, wasn't it?

The elf shook his head quickly as if his own thoughts startled him. He needed a distraction.

Legolas reached for the folded parchments and uncurled them. He ran his fingers over the creases to try and smooth a majority of the wrinkles out of the stiff materials and pushed himself to get to work. This would not make a neat presentation, but he could at least scribble some notes and get all the details onto paper yet again then could rewrite everything at a later time.

He attempted to grip the quill, but found his hands would not work properly and his cold fingers could not feel the light feather well enough to hold it. He flexed his stiff fingers a few times to try and pump blood into them, but it seemed to have little effect. He vaguely recalled Aragorn and Gimli being cold on any number of adventures that they had been on and there were times when the ranger would curl his fingers into a fist and huff into them, claiming it helped warm them up. The elf never had reason to do this himself until now and he tried it. He was surprised to find the warmth of his breath tingle the frigid fingers and he sat for a moment breathing on his hands to chase away the cold.

Soon, the elf began the tedious task of writing out letters once again, but as his hand moved along the pages with the broken quill in his fingers, his mind wandered off and went elsewhere.

The tan color of the pages he was writing on looked so much like the color of sand and the parchment had a particular texture of roughness despite the smooth surface.

He could recall the way the sand looked from his vision last night and the vivid clarity of the scene came back to him as he replayed the events in his mind. The waves were rough with tremendous energy. The gulls were an amazing sight. The scurrying spider-creatures in the sand fascinated him, and the smells were unique, unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

He wondered if that was what the ocean truly looked like. He could not imagine it to be any different, but he had never seen a beach before and the intense brilliant vision looked and felt far too real.

How could it be any different?

And what would sailing be like?

His mind drifted over the possibilities and expectations of that would be like as well. Legends and rumors had said that there is vast expanse of nothingness out in the middle of the ocean; just the sky and the sea. But he had never seen anything remotely close to that. Any sight he had been able to witness, there were mountains in the background, or fantastic forests that began or stopped as the landscapes changed to rolling plains, craggy peaks, ribbons of rivers and all of that was held under an ever changing sky. How could you be able to look in all directions and see absolutely nothing?

It must be a dazzling sight to behold.

It must be even better to then see the western shores appear on the horizon….

The elf was pulled from his thoughts as a prickling sensation began on the tip of his nose. He rubbed it quickly and felt a slight drop of moisture and he swiped it away, but as he did so something in the air caught his attention. A beautiful speck of crystallized white drifted past his face and landed on the parchments he had been writing on.

The snowflake gently rested on the page for a moment and the elf studied its unique flower-pointed shape before the tiny ice crystal began to melt. In a blink of an eye, the fine shape disappeared and became a beaded droplet of water that rested on the paper before the parchment absorbed the drop and created a mushy wet dot.

His eyes looked back over his work and could not recall what he had done. The beginnings of a letter to a nearby lord had halted and he had sketched out the scenes he saw in his mind. He was no true artist, but the visions and daydreams were well depicted in black ink and tan paper. The elf looked over each image he created; rolling waves, sandy dunes, seagulls flying at an angle, bizarre pinching spiders, western shores…. it was all there.

The elf felt another prick of cold followed by another as the subtle falling of snow began. He looked to the plains to find that the light of day was beginning to disappear and it was not helped any by the thick cloud cover that came rolling in and provided the season's first snow.

They had spent a good few hours out here and the snowfall was a sign that they needed to begin heading back, but he began to grow uneasy yet again at the thought.

With a heavy heart the prince looked towards the west.

Why did he have to go back to Minas Tirith? He was already out of the city, which was a major step. He did not have to go back and take responsibility for the mad-dash chase that took place. He would not have to be locked up, he would not have to fear. He had legs and could walk himself to the shores and leave. His heart began to thump in anticipation and began to psych himself up for the long journey.

He could be home in no time. He would be welcomed home just as he had wanted. His mother would be there. How he ached to see her again. His father would-

His father…

Oh, that brought on a whole new set of problems. Thranduil was not pleased that he had declined rule over Mirkwood and they had one of the worst heated arguments over his decisions. How could he show up to Valinor now? His father only left a few years ago and *now* he was going to admit defeat and return "home" with his tail between his legs? It didn't matter what had happened to him, he made a choice to be a leader and take on the responsibilities associated with the role. He could not leave now.

Besides, what would his father think of him? He would have to have a reason why he left Middle Earth so soon and yet he did not know if he could bring himself to admit his shame to his proud father. He knew his Ada loved him, but his weakness and humiliation was not something Thranduil needed to be informed of.

With another heavy sigh, the prince huddled up on the tree branch as he fought another shiver and looked back to Minas Tirith.

Sailing had been on his mind for weeks now. There was a gnawing need to leave in the pit of his stomach. But while he wanted to leave, a sadness washed over him at the thought. How could he leave without even saying goodbye to everyone?... How could he leave period?

"Why is everything so complicated?" he mumbled to himself as he buried his head against his knees and let out a vexed sigh. He could feel the dropping of snow increase and the light flakes were quickly melting when they landed on him. He needed to begin heading back.

He picked his head up and looked about for Brego who had ventured a small distance away. Legolas squinted his eyes as he scrutinized the animal.

"You had better be ready this time Brego." the elf whispered to himself.

Legolas picked the pages up and crumpled them into a ball. He did not need to hold any record of his visions and the work he had actually done was so minuscule there was no need to save it. He threw the balled up paper into the woods and regarded the rest of the supplies.

The quill was in horrendous shape and knew Aragorn would not miss one pen. He dropped the instrument to the ground, returning the feather to the wilds from where it had come from. The ink too was not worth keeping and after dumping the small amount of black liquid out, he tossed the phial out in the woods and allowed the cork to fall to the earth as well.

He stood on the branch and looked down at the distance that separated him and the ground. On normal cases, the height would not faze the wood-elf, but in his current condition, he was a little leery of jumping the height and risking injury. After contemplating his options, his only choice was to jump and the Wood-elf left the branches and landed as gracefully as he could on the snow dusted ground.

He picked himself up off of the forest floor and brushed the leaves and snow from his clothing. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest, He ventured from the trees to gather Brego. The plains were becoming slightly covered with the white snow and the elf halted his advancement for a brief time and took in the quiet surroundings. The falling snow muted all noises and a lonely silence surrounded him. The wind did not stir any longer, and the common woodland noises became deaf. It was if he were back in his stone rooms again and the green, gold, brown and red landscape slowly turned white.

"Brego..." the elf called out and the horse picked his head up to study the prince who was standing a few yards away watching him. "It is time to go."

Legolas began to walk to the horse who turned to fully face the elf. The prince watched the steed cautiously, looking for any signs that the horse would fight him on the matter, but Brego remained standing where he was until the elf gained his side.

"This time we *have* to leave. It is getting dark and colder now… and I know not what the weather will be doing and we both cannot afford to spend a night out here."

The horse pulled his head up and down, indicating that he understood and was ready to head off. Legolas unfolded his arms briefly to give the horse's neck a fond pat.

"Thank you." he whispered. "Now, tell me, are you hurt in any way from earlier?" The elf began to run his hands over the horse's ribs and haunches to check for injuries, but the horse did not make any indications of being in pain when being poked and prodded. The elf tried to feel for any hurts, but his hands quickly become numb again and he could not quite tell what he was feeling. He brought his hands to his mouth again and resumed huffing to bring about some warmth.

Brego knelt in the light snow and allowed the elf an easy vault up. The horse stood and waited patiently until the elf got comfortable.

Legolas took one last look about when something in the thin covering of snow made him do a double take.

Boot tracks were stamped into the snow and uncovered the green grass just beneath. As an elf, he had never made tracks in the snow no matter how deep, and yet he was certain he was the only one out here…

The elf looked about wildly for a few seconds, making sure there was no one sneaking up behind him, but when the coast proved to be clear, he looked back to the footprints with wonder.

**Why am I sinking in snow?** he thought.

"Brego? Was there anyone else out here with you?" Legolas asked. He thought he knew the answer himself, but had to ask anyway. Something was wrong… Something was wrong with him and that conclusion only solidified when the horse confirm no one else was out here.

He tried to find reason as to why this was happening, but there was only one logical outcome he could formulate. He had seen this happen to another elf once before and that was Arwen after she had given up her immortality to be with Aragorn. The light of the Elda had left her and though she still had pointed ears and could connect to others on a different level, what ultimately made her an elf had fled.

The same was happening to him, only he was not giving up his immortality by choice...

He was fading.

Legolas took a few deep breaths and shivered as he stared intently at the marks in the accumulating precipitation that were rapidly becoming covered up by fresh snowfall.

He closed his eyes as his anxieties mounted and took a deep breath to try and calm a new panic that was beginning to set in.

He needed help.