No, wait. There was something. A ski lodge? He smiled. No, no ski 
lodges here. But the landscape was not solid snow. There was a break in the 
gray. Could it possibly be a cavern of some sort? He decided to explore this 
hill ahead, as it dared anyone foolish enough to rappel its foreboding face. 
He recalled using a walking stick on a regular basis, but there were no trees 
near, and no stick could be found. A third leg would help very much, this he 
knew, but he would just have to bear it for now.
	Wait. Something’s not right. A smooth landscape, aside from the hole 
and some shrubbery, and maybe a few hills, and a particularly large one in 
the distance, but still not large enough to climb. Yes, that’s it, he 
thought, pulling the thoughts from his mind. He was out here climbing, and 
the absence of anything to climb made that difficult. Then how did he end up 
unconscious, with a friend not as lucky as he? He saw no evidence of an 
avalanche, no evidence of anything but what appeared to be the edge of a 
field, or farm. Another frigid blast raking across his cheek reminded him it 
was time to move on.
	As the wind tried to save him from what lied ahead, he insisted on 
trudging through the shin-deep snow, against its protective resistance. 
Moreover, Cold was becoming even more persistent in its efforts to keep him 
at bay than in the sinkhole, and though it failed, it had scored a point in 
forcing him to pause, for a chill shook his body as a tap resonating in a 
glass of water. The Elements were against him, but he would fight the 
Elements with each breath; he would give himself no other choice. Each step 
he took weakened him further and further, and he doubted that he could make 
it to the landmark ahead. Somehow, he knew that he must, for he had gone too 
far to give up.
	Snow was getting in his eyes, and it was becoming harder to see the 
ground five and a half feet down. The stinging insects that attacked his face 
earlier (how much earlier, he wondered) were back, and they made him feel as 
if his nose and ears had turned beet red. The pain was becoming 
unendurable—in his eyes, ears, face, a little in his hands and feet, his lips 
and throat, almost everywhere. He saw his destination coming closer, but, it 
seemed, at an increasingly slower rate. The wind, snow, and Cold were winning 
the battle, and he was tempted to give in to all. The attraction was very 
strong and he wanted to surrender so much.
	So he did.