Clara’s donkey was coming down off its medicated rush, the animal’s hooves stumbling forward uncontrolled. Clara took the next syringe, this one just pure fluid hard candy for her beast. She injected it, this time not caring about the animal being able to repair damage faster, only caring that it got her near the trading post. She donned a warm pullover from her pack and a heavy woolen cap.

A few hours later, the beast was foaming and its eyes bulged, but it had nearly gotten Clara to the trading post. The donkey shuddered and collapsed two hundred yards away.