I stood on the rooftop for a minute longer, watching the figure advance. The night was silent and empty, no movement save for the falling snow and the shadowy stranger.
The stranger's movement was slow. I couldn't be sure from this distance, but it looked as though its head hung low, as the stranger trudged through the impossibly deep snow.
I hadn't noticed my breathing had become so quiet, so low, until I sucked in a gasp of air as I watched the figure collapse, crumpling into the snow.
In a moment, I was back through the skylight and climbing quickly down the steep stairs leading down from the attic. I was already wearing a pair of old boots, so I propelled myself to the front door, and hauled on a jacket over my heavy sweater.
Without thinking, I was already running across the plain acres of white, making my way to the stranger.
My heart was racing. Please be okay, please be alive. I tried to keep the terrible thoughts from entering my mind.
I finally reached him, the figure; it was a man, I could see now, fairly young, from what I could tell. He was lying just as he had fallen, face down in the snow.
I grabbed his shoulders and, using all the strength I could muster, rolled him on his back.
"Hey! Can you hear me?" I touched his face; it was so cold.
I lifted an eyelid, to check for a response, and was surprised to see his eye glow a vibrant aqua, as it peered back at me. It was an unusual combination with his dark hair and complexion. I had never seen another pair of eyes like it.
His clothes were ragged and torn. It looked as though his journey had been treacherous. I hoped he didn't have frostbite, or he would be in store for a painful recovery. I'd seen all too much what the seeming innocent snow could do to people these last few weeks.
I took his hand in mine and spoke again. "Wake up! C'mon, we gotta get you out of here."
Just then, I felt his fingers stir in mine. His head twitched and a small groan passed his lips.