Chapter 122

I sit in the dirt, against a tree, the bark scratching my bare back, and I stay curled up. A thin fog gathers around me, the air frigid. My fingers lose color and I feel as if these are the sensations of death. Everything is cold, so painfully and relentlessly cold. The feeling in my toes fade and I contemplate shifting again to stay alive. I can't be too far, I can't be off of pack land. I should go back but I'm scared that his father will grab me again, that he'll choke me and cut me...