He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the piece of jerky. He tore off a chunk and ate it, showing the man it was safe, then tossed the rest. The warrior ignored the meat. He was watching Luke's hands. "I can get that iron off your leg," Luke said, pointing to the trap, "but you have to put the knife down." The warrior did not understand the words, but he understood the gesture.
He looked at the trap, then at Luke. He shook his head violently. Luke took a step forward. The warrior lunged, slashing the air inches from Luke's knee. Luke jumped back, his hand hovering over his coat.
"Look," Luke said, his voice rising in frustration, "you stay in that, you die, freezing or bleeding. Take your pick. I am trying to help you." He looked around the clearing. The sun was gone now, dropped behind the peaks. The temperature was plummeting.
If he was going to do this, it had to be now. He took off his heavy coat and tossed it onto the ground near the warrior. Then he unbuckled his gun belt. The warrior watched, confused, as Luke hung the holstered revolver on a low branch of a pine tree, well out of reach. "I am unarmed," Luke said.
"You see?" He walked forward again. This time, the warrior did not slash. He watched Luke with the intensity of a hawk, his muscles coiled, but he allowed Luke to come within reach. Luke knelt in the snow. The smell of the man was strong, sweat, wood smoke, and the copper tang of blood.
Luke looked at the trap. It was a double spring model, old and rusted. To open it, he would need leverage. The springs were incredibly stiff. He looked at the warrior, meeting his gaze.
The eyes were dark and deep, full of intelligence and pain. "I'm going to hurt you." Luke said quietly. "No way around it." He moved to the trap. The warrior tensed, the knife hovering near Luke's throat. Luke ignored it.
He placed his boots on the heavy steel springs on either side of the jaws. He grabbed the upper jaws with his gloved hands. "Ready?" Luke grunted. He put weight onto the springs. They groaned, rust grinding against rust.
The jaws barely moved. Luke gritted his teeth, sweat popping out on his forehead despite the cold. He pressed down with everything he had, straining until the veins in his neck stood out like cords. The springs gave, slowly, agonizingly. The jaws began to widen.
The warrior let out a low keening sound as the teeth pulled back from his torn flesh. The blood began to flow faster. "Pull your leg out!" Luke shouted, gasping for breath. The warrior understood. He dragged his leg free, leaving a ruin of shredded leather and flesh behind.