But the deer’s faint, labored movements were impossible to ignore. The small, helpless creature was succumbing to the cold, and each second spent hesitating might seal its fate. Allan stood, torn between self-preservation and an overwhelming sense of duty to do something —anything—to help.
With a deep breath, he took a step back toward the house, weighing his options. He would need a tool to rescue the fawn from the fence. The fawn’s wide, frightened eyes stayed locked on him, a silent plea he couldn’t shake as he turned toward the shed.