In the Chill of Tremors and Worry
"Damn it… Carla, her body's getting hotter," muttered Zeco, his hand brushing against my forehead, which was burning to the touch.
Charlotte nodded slowly. "Yes, I feel it too. I think… she's starting to fall ill."
My body truly felt like it was heating up—like a flame slowly crawling beneath my skin. Even Charlotte's fur-covered caress couldn't suppress the spreading warmth.
"Uncle, is there any spare cloth?" Carla asked, her voice now tinged with unease. The expression on her face could no longer hide the deep worry she felt.
"Just a moment..." the Uncle replied, quickly reaching for something in a box beneath his seat. "Here—use this, compress her forehead."
"Thank you, Sir," Carla said quickly, taking the cloth at once.
"Zeco, get the water bottle over there, please. I'll wet this cloth first."
Zeco moved fast, handing her the bottle. Carla took it and opened the train window, trying to soak the cloth with the outside water.
"If I'd known it would turn out like this… maybe I wouldn't have chosen this path," she whispered softly, more to herself than anyone else.
After wetting the cloth, she handed it to Zeco. "Please, place this on her forehead. I hope it brings her temperature down, even just a little."
Zeco nodded and carefully placed the damp cloth on my forehead, setting it gently as if touching fragile glass.
"Charlotte," Zeco asked next, "can you still hold on?"
Charlotte, who hadn't let go of me for even a moment, replied without hesitation, "Of course, Carla. I'm not going anywhere." Her embrace tightened, as if trying to transfer her body's warmth into mine, burning with fever.
Meanwhile, Uncle seemed lost in thought, as if wrestling with a decision in his mind. "Miss," he said slowly, "I've been thinking. Maybe… we could shorten the journey by taking a shortcut. But…"
Carla turned to him immediately, her eyes sharp. "But what? Don't wait any longer, Uncle. Take that path. Whatever the risk, I accept it."
Uncle bowed his head slightly, taking a deep breath that filled his chest. "I've thought of it too. But that path is dangerous, especially with night approaching. And when night falls…"
Carla didn't let him finish. "It doesn't matter. We know what we're facing. And we won't back down."
Uncle looked toward the dark forest in the distance, then spoke in a low but firm voice, "Very well. But remember, if we hear the song of the snow wolves… we turn back. I won't be able to protect you from that."
Carla froze. "You mean…? The Arctic Wolves?"