The early morning wind was bitingly cold. Just as the sky began to lighten, the rain intensified. A few small birds could be seen struggling in the muddy water, already on the verge of death. Their downy feathers were soaked and matted, and their occasional, faint chirps were drowned out by the thunder and rain.
Evelyn Ford used a branch to fish out a nearby bird, carefully nudging it onto the raft. It was a titmouse, shivering so hard from the cold that it couldn't make a sound.
Evelyn Ford put it into her space. 'Whether it lived or died was up to its own fate.'
The woods had turned into a rainforest, and moving the raft was extremely difficult. If Ronan Kendrick hadn't been clearing a path up ahead, the group behind them might have been completely stuck.
