W.C: 304
It wasn’t easy: for each pace they managed to do, the water seemed to pull them back two paces.
Another angry wave made them both whine in despair, Claire coughed again.
“C’mon! We’re almost there!” she almost screamed, more to herself than to the other, as her body started to show some signs of exhaustion.
Without thinking much, the small femme realized the utility of using that urge in accelerating her movements, and filled her lungs with wet air as she felt the big grey’s body at her side, pressed to hers as his life depended on that connection, struggling as much as herself.
After all, ‘to give up’ wasn’t part of her vocabulary at that moment.
So they fought against the tide, sometimes making good advance, sometimes being pulled back. How much time they spent on this – almost - silent battle? Only God knows. For them it seemed three times longer.
When Claire wasn’t almost feeling her legs anymore and her mind was spinning so hard it was almost impossible to think, she saw a glimpse of damp earth, as her body – and her companion’s – started to rise from the waters: they were reaching the river’s border.
The small femme smiled, exhausted, and found enough strength to reach a safe area. And then she stumbled and fell.
Claire closed her eyes, sighing.
“I’m alive.”
And everything went dark.