Sleet Wheels

After making a quick stop at the bank this afternoon, I was crossing streets when I encountered a woman depending on a walker to get to the other side. Unfortunately, the city was smacked with sleet from all directions, enough to cause traffic to be more insane than usual. This increased the natural action of me walking beside her to lend a help even more, especially since the roads were toxic with slippery doom.
I was already on the other end for my destination until I decided to approach her.
"It's shitty out here. I'll help you cross the street," I told her, almost shouting to fight off the city sounds.
She didn't argue, for she probably figured that a hand would be most useful. She donned a humongous leather coat, with the top of her head shielded by a hat and her legs and feet by an oversized pair of pants and low-top shoes, a crime against the dangers of the winter season.
We didn't speak much. Our finals words were pleasant and she thanked me, but it was disheartening to witness a person, one in need of assistance, enduring so much by their own strength that it renders the journey of crossing a simple street to be impossible.
I named her Sleet Wheels, because it has a catchy ring to it.