"Feng!!"
Recognizing Feng Shan by his fur coat, Little Swan excitedly jumped off the snowmobile and staggered forward to greet him.
As he drew closer, he saw Feng Shan dragging someone. It had to be Morris.
"Is he dead?" Little Swan asked, his eyes wide.
Feng Shan glanced over. White vapor puffed from the corner of the unconscious Morris's mouth. He spoke with annoyance.
"God didn't take him. Maybe He wants him to go to Hell."
"That's right. He should go to Hell." His expression furious, Little Swan walked over to the unconscious Morris, lifted his foot for a hard kick, and then spat in his face.
"Let's go. We'll take him back."
Feng Shan grabbed Morris by the collar and tied him to the snowmobile's rear rack like a trussed-up animal. Whether he fell off along the way would be up to fate.
They rushed back to Kivalina without stopping.
