"Jasper? Sitwell. Hey. Jasper- eyes open- now's not the-" Coulson swore, shaking him by the shoulder and getting now response. When he pulled him back out of the sled his stomach turned at the amount of blood that had pooled in the bottom of it. "Damn it, Jasper," he muttered, pressing a palm firmly against the wound and trying to work open the kit using his teeth.
He sewed the wounds up, and bundled Jasper back up, but by then his breathing was slow, and come morning he was gone. The dogs, mysteriously quiet, in actual fact seemed to have tugged their line free in the night, or else been snatched by the vampires. The radio still wasn't picking up a signal and that didn't leave Coulson much choice, he was going to have to walk back to Fairbanks before he could get a flight out of there and call in for help.
Jasper's body had been placed securely back into the sled. He wasn't going to bury him here in the cold, he was going to get him back to his family. Whatever could be left behind he abandoned, and began the long trek back through the snow.
The light had died on the second night, and now, on the third, Coulson lay asleep in the tent with only distance to keep him from the vampires' teeth.