"You crawled part of the way," he answered. "Then I lugged you on my back. Are you feeling better?"
"I feel dizzy—and sick. I thought I was dead. But I remember crawling. You saved my life."
"I'll make some tea. Your pack's just outside."
"You saved my life—and I thought you hated me."
"It was my fault. I shouldn't have crawled away last night."
He staggered up, crawled out and brought in the pack. He made tea and buttered toast, the girl and the dogs watching him in silence.
"I didn't eat any breakfast," she said as he handed her the only mug, full of tea.
"I was a fool to crawl away last night," he said.
"You might have started your leg bleeding again," said the girl.
"It would have served me right," he answered.