He fell back onto the snow in an exhausted pant. Turned to the mountain in the distance, "Next up, Everest."
He slumped there for about thirty minutes, reassessing his situation. He'd burnt the gloves off his hands when he used his fire and now, resulted to stuffing them in his pants for warmth.
"Mmph!" After a few more minutes, he dragged himself up and turned around him to take in the landscape.
The raging storm had settled, the broken black ice waters were still, save for the wind which cried incessantly. He turned his sights to the mountain, the wind blowing his hair, as he marched on.
*
Distance from far away had indeed been misleading, even after walking her what felt like hours, he still hasn't reached the foot of the mountain.
Turning his eyes to either side, the Hollowmen were still nowhere to be found, they'd ran off from the storm, but now that it had settled he felt the constant pit in his gut that they'd return.
