Can't Woof It Out | Marshall x Everest [Book Two] ✔⚙

Chapter Eighteen

          Cold sweat broke through barriers, eyes were manipulated in such a way that it's strained to be kept unfolded; its pure field of white is thrown in a barren place, and deprived it from its deserving liquid nourishment. In an isolated place, everything but that fell on a whole dotted beat silence.

          Slouched onto the metal supports, temples are scrunched together into a crease, he could only exhaust his humid and tensed air out of him, but to only be worthy of nothing as his body continuously overheated.

          "What the heck happened?" Chase and Rocky were seen to be running forth him along the long strip of white hallways — their voices of worrisome echoed through the rectangular prism that we're made to link one place to another — weaving through the mesh of people that are flowing in and out of the halls. Both were panting, fatigued, though reached him instantly somehow with determination.

           He could only look at them with hot tears running down his face, and bitter-coated lips that hung agape onto his face. Completely, he looked a mess and seemed he's been thinking for hours as Everest is being assessed in the ER.

          Silently sitting beside him, they could only look forlorn, for they too, are lost for words. Cursed by the necromancers of the moment, they had lost the ability to speak, as the weight had only grown heavier, unable to utter a single complaint about it; neither of them minded anyway, and would rather have their bones crushed into fine grains — to one of the three at the very least.

          As a soft and warm yellowish light spilled into the filtered sanitized hallways, two nurses have emerged from there, and a man in his fifties followed them after. Between his hands, he clasped his note board, most likely having documents of his observations and prescriptions of every patient he's handling; most likely, the Husky is included too.

          Quick on his paws, he stood up and looked directly into his eyes, searching for answers that underlie within those prescripted frames he wears and makes him up. As digits piled up into minutes, a relieved yet professional smile had appeared on his face.

          "You must be her friends, correct?" His eyes dart from the set behind him and back to them, to which the three nodded politely.

         "Everest is doing well, despite having second-degree burns and having to inhale sulfur dioxide and other several chemical substances. She's lucky it was prevented immediately by getting her treated to the ER immediately. To whatever caused her to fall into this state, please avoid it at all cost and leave her to fully recover." The professional health assessor then took its leave, leaving the breathless trio on their seats.

"What exactly happened, Marshall?"

          Marshall went to find recruits of people to help extinguish the fire before he decided to dash into the burning household — which is barely a structure at this point. Upon entering, his paws stung of burnt ashes and emitted a foul smell — suffocating him along the process. But time is slipping like grains of sand, and worrying too much about this will both just pose danger to him.

          Leaping off of fallen down structural posts, he yelled for her name in the midst of the crackle and prattle of the blaze, he saw nothing but silhouettes that would burn right in front of him. Fear had crossed his mind and foreboding thought of what the worst outcome may occur.

          Ashes that swirled around him were being dispersed with every cough he made and dodged the fingers of the inferno that wanted to get a hold of him too. In a heartbeat, he found Everest limping her way to the exit with a young girl on her back. Both were dusted with chemicals and are trying to grasp onto the sliver of hope and life they have.