more "sense and sensitivity"
"The gulls haven't been chased away by the weather!" Margaret pointed to the birds lounging on the frozen water, which preened unperturbed by the ice. Marianne shaded her eyes from the glare of the sun to stare at the smudges of grey. How vastly unfair that she'd been born wingless, she thought as a few of the birds took to the air. Unfair and almost cruel.
A frantic yapping broke through Marianne's melancholy musings. Jupiter - or Paris - or Hercules had too spotted the birds, and eons of breeded instinct took over his small body. He launched, a veritable shot, and dashed, howling and barking in anticipation, toward his selected prey, deaf to Margaret's commands. How glorious the hunt!, he must have thought as the wind stroked his ears and pulled at his lolling tongue. Dinner for him and the mistress!
The crack was as sharp of lightening. The ice, which bore the soft weight of the birds, could not do the same for the puppy. What appeared to be solid from the shore was in actuality weak and insubstantial, and the dog crashed through the surface of the half-frozen water, his brown head disappearing from sight as he was dragged, as if by a serpent or selkie or some other horrid monster, downward into the murky water.
Marianne's hands rose to her mouth, but her sister's reaction was abrupt. Margaret wailed and pushed past Marianne, who groped and whose fingers slid from Margaret's coat-sleeves. Like her pet, Margaret could not, would not hear the cries begging her to return. "Hermes!" She cried as she ran to the shore. "I'll save you!"
"No! No, you musn't!" Marianne lurched forward, reaching, grasping, missing her sister. "You'll fall in -"
Margaret's foot broke through the delicate lacework of ice, but she plunged in farther, eventually climbing onto firmer ice. "Hermes! Hermes, I'm coming!" She smashed through again, screaming in terror as the bitter water pulled at her skirts. It was up to her knees now, but Margaret once more rose up, smearing a terrible bloody rose of a handprint on the ice as she clambered back to her feet.
The ice! The ice shattered and groaned under Margaret's weight, each sound tearing at Marianne's heart. She couldn't run back to the cottage - If something should happen to Margaret -! She swiped furiously at her stinging eyes and then jumped into the hostile sea, ice scraping her ankles as she waded deeper and deeper through the path that Margaret had cut. "Margaret! Stay where you are! I'm coming!"
"No!"
Someone grabbed her and spun her back to shore; the arm, strong and firm around her waist, was ignorant to her shrieked curses. "Let me go! Oh, damn you -! Margaret!"
"Stay here! I'll get her!"
"Colonel -?"
Colonel Brandon shrugged off his coat and shoved it into Marianne's trembling hands. "Stay here." He said again, barely glancing at her before turning back to the water. Before she could even breath again, he was in the water, pushing past plates of ice as rushed toward Margaret.
The hole formed by Hermes' fall was nearly within reach, but Margaret's hands were curling into fists instead of stretching out to save her pet. Col, cold, too cold to even remember why she in the middle of the arctic; the salt from the ocean clogged her lungs and something pulled at her legs, but Margaret could move no longer. And then, she could no longer even stand -
"Margaret!" Brandon plunged his hands into the clouded water, searching for sign of her life. On the shore, Marianne paced and bit on her lip until a rush of blood filled her mouth. Margaret would drown and the Colonel with her! Mimicking Brandon, she yanked off her heavy wool coat and then leapt into the water, fear taken charge over reason. "Brandon!" She cried as she flung herself to his side, tripping and sputtering and crying. The water was up to her waist, burning her skin as if with a branding iron. "Margaret!"
But Brandon had not failed her.
A frantic yapping broke through Marianne's melancholy musings. Jupiter - or Paris - or Hercules had too spotted the birds, and eons of breeded instinct took over his small body. He launched, a veritable shot, and dashed, howling and barking in anticipation, toward his selected prey, deaf to Margaret's commands. How glorious the hunt!, he must have thought as the wind stroked his ears and pulled at his lolling tongue. Dinner for him and the mistress!
The crack was as sharp of lightening. The ice, which bore the soft weight of the birds, could not do the same for the puppy. What appeared to be solid from the shore was in actuality weak and insubstantial, and the dog crashed through the surface of the half-frozen water, his brown head disappearing from sight as he was dragged, as if by a serpent or selkie or some other horrid monster, downward into the murky water.
Marianne's hands rose to her mouth, but her sister's reaction was abrupt. Margaret wailed and pushed past Marianne, who groped and whose fingers slid from Margaret's coat-sleeves. Like her pet, Margaret could not, would not hear the cries begging her to return. "Hermes!" She cried as she ran to the shore. "I'll save you!"
"No! No, you musn't!" Marianne lurched forward, reaching, grasping, missing her sister. "You'll fall in -"
Margaret's foot broke through the delicate lacework of ice, but she plunged in farther, eventually climbing onto firmer ice. "Hermes! Hermes, I'm coming!" She smashed through again, screaming in terror as the bitter water pulled at her skirts. It was up to her knees now, but Margaret once more rose up, smearing a terrible bloody rose of a handprint on the ice as she clambered back to her feet.
The ice! The ice shattered and groaned under Margaret's weight, each sound tearing at Marianne's heart. She couldn't run back to the cottage - If something should happen to Margaret -! She swiped furiously at her stinging eyes and then jumped into the hostile sea, ice scraping her ankles as she waded deeper and deeper through the path that Margaret had cut. "Margaret! Stay where you are! I'm coming!"
"No!"
Someone grabbed her and spun her back to shore; the arm, strong and firm around her waist, was ignorant to her shrieked curses. "Let me go! Oh, damn you -! Margaret!"
"Stay here! I'll get her!"
"Colonel -?"
Colonel Brandon shrugged off his coat and shoved it into Marianne's trembling hands. "Stay here." He said again, barely glancing at her before turning back to the water. Before she could even breath again, he was in the water, pushing past plates of ice as rushed toward Margaret.
The hole formed by Hermes' fall was nearly within reach, but Margaret's hands were curling into fists instead of stretching out to save her pet. Col, cold, too cold to even remember why she in the middle of the arctic; the salt from the ocean clogged her lungs and something pulled at her legs, but Margaret could move no longer. And then, she could no longer even stand -
"Margaret!" Brandon plunged his hands into the clouded water, searching for sign of her life. On the shore, Marianne paced and bit on her lip until a rush of blood filled her mouth. Margaret would drown and the Colonel with her! Mimicking Brandon, she yanked off her heavy wool coat and then leapt into the water, fear taken charge over reason. "Brandon!" She cried as she flung herself to his side, tripping and sputtering and crying. The water was up to her waist, burning her skin as if with a branding iron. "Margaret!"
But Brandon had not failed her.