I carry the girl to safety. She is not merely brave, she is beautiful as well.
’Tis with great care that I take the boy from her selfless embrace; even the child seems worried for her.
I touch her cheek, her throat (praise heaven, her pulse is strong), then allow myself the thrill of touching briefly her silken hair.
Would that she could open those eyes, so I might know their color and their depth! But the child is fearful, and I know she would wish me to remove him completely from the continued peril of this place.
I whisper a prayer that she will be well.
And another that I will see her again.
With a hopeful heart, I spirit the child away.