Jacob climbed out of his large hole that he had made and walked back towards his group. Squabee looked at Jacob hopefully.
"Any luck?"
"None at all. Even if we did melt this ice, I don't think we'd be able to drink it. Besides, there's nothing for us to collect the water in anyway. We have to find something else to drink."
They all looked at the wolves laying on the ground. All of their blood was already spilled out of their bodies, completely frozen. There was truly nothing for them to drink. Jacob's heart filled with sorrow once again. They had hardly managed to survive, two of them were crippled, and now they all needed water, or they stood no chance at making it. Suddenly, Jacob had a small idea. He didn't think it was reliable, but he it was their only chance. The snow, the same thing that was slowing them down, had to be their savior. Jacob took off his dragon armor and slid it towards Slimo.
