Her skin looked ashen, either from being sick with worry or sapped from too long out in the cold. She was shivering; her teeth were chattering; she’d just had a fall. Fuck. “She found her own way back to the house,” he explained, although her lack of protest to his approach had settled his course of action now, so he was more preoccupied with scooping her up into his arms. She was lighter than he’d expected, even tall as she was, but he felt that her clothes were sodden through from the snow – trudging all the way back through the grounds like this would do her no favours, and he didn’t trust her to be able to hold onto the remaining broom. So he bundled them both into the greenhouse, which wasn’t warm, but felt relatively temperate and sheltered compared to the white outside.
He glanced around, trying to decide where to set her down, whether there was anything here to make use of to warm her, and whether she was already shivering too much to stand. He moved his arm out from under her knees to set her feet down, but kept a grasp around her arms to steady her. “So she’ll be fine. Unless she loses her mother in a snowstorm, that is,” he added pointedly, with some bite. “In which case I’m sure there’ll be some lingering distress.”
He glanced around, trying to decide where to set her down, whether there was anything here to make use of to warm her, and whether she was already shivering too much to stand. He moved his arm out from under her knees to set her feet down, but kept a grasp around her arms to steady her. “So she’ll be fine. Unless she loses her mother in a snowstorm, that is,” he added pointedly, with some bite. “In which case I’m sure there’ll be some lingering distress.”
