I'm working in pieces and weaving them together afterwards, at this point, and I don't know if this exact bit will be kept in. I might rewrite it, or leave it out entirely, but I like the general feel of it, so here goes:

The soil was wet and freezing under his hands, and Leo thought mournfully about the heavy leather gloves he had lost along with the rest of the clothes in the missing bag. They'd have been welcome now, as he was getting up to his elbows in cold dirt. At least the soil was loose, and easy to dig through.

It would be raining soon. He could almost feel it in the air, and it drove him to dig faster, carelessly shoving the soil aside in a heap. It was cold and dark enough out there without it raining.

His fingers brushed against something hard there, deep in the ground, and he dug through the dirt around it to loosen it, before pulling it up and into what little light he had.

In his hands, the dirt-stained femur seemed far heavier than it could possibly be.