The telephone pole came crashing down, grazing his shoulder and hitting his forehead. Instantly, he fell to the ground along with the pole.
The night had not completely retreated in these mountains. The dim light of dawn seemed like a layer of mist, shrouding everything, with a vaguely mysterious air, as if it held countless secrets like a labyrinth.
Fearing he might be struck by the wires falling with the pole, she instinctively grabbed his clothes and dragged him away, trying to get him as far from the pole as possible. Unfortunately, although she used every ounce of her strength, having not eaten all day, she could only manage to drag him a meter away at best.
Seeing the blood flowing from his forehead, she tore a piece of clothing to provide him with simple bandages. The most urgent task was, of course, to call for help. She stood up to look for someone to assist, calling out upon spotting a figure flashing by in the distance: "Comrade—"
