"You can't save him. He's lost too much blood; his death is already set in stone."
A hateful smile surfaced on Froki's face as he stepped down from the large boulder.
"There's still a long distance from here to the village. This supply pack is only enough for one person... in fact, it's not even enough for one, given how long the road is, and the wind and snow," Froki said. "If you use it on Lancelot, the result will merely be that his death is delayed by a few minutes, or perhaps tens of minutes, and you, for lack of supplies, will probably freeze to death here in a few days."
"Shut up!"
Bola roared. He struggled to stand, one hand clutching the supply pack, the other slinging Lancelot's shoulder over himself. Bracing his weight, he staggered forward.
