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Summary
“Oh, hell.”
Black whinnied in agreement.
Shiro knelt down and searched for a pulse. There was one, but slow and sluggish, and the man’s skin was cold against Shiro’s fingers; alive, but not shivering. A sure sign that the cold was beginning to do its damage.
Well. There was only one option, wasn’t there?
“Alright, Black, don’t startle now. We’re taking home a guest.”Series
- Part 70 of Voltron Oneshots
