The blankets of white snow beside them were left untouched. The indented path was as crystalline as a summer's day. The ground was a fluffy cloud, being soft to the touch. The horrendous trek up the rocky mountain became worse as the wind whistled and whooshed. It picked up as speeding snow storms endangered the persistent hikers. The overhead mattress spat out flecks of ice, threatening the stones under them to give way. Covering their eyes, the hikers shivered and searched for cover. They searched and scouted, worried.

They swore they could hear the howls of hungry and vicious wolves, looking for their next prey. Deep green pine trees brushed against the hikers' dirty rucksacks, adding to their paranoia. Plants with narrow, needle-like leaves stabbed the thick jackets, which protected the hikers from feeling the pokes and prods. The hikers heard steps pounding from up ahead. Their panic rose higher and higher; their hearts hammered faster and faster, attempting to force their way out.

Suddenly, a timid goat bleated, terrified, and scampered past the alarmed hikers, leaving them on-guard. The bitter cold bit at their toes as they wished they wore more layers; it was only a matter of time before they experienced hypothermia and frostbite. A brief second passed. They needed to get moving.

So, they plodded on and became increasingly worried, especially since their quest for shelter was coming up short. The hikers looked to their right, judging that they were at least 800 metres above sea level. Any help would not come until the storm passed, meaning they would need to find some form of cover very soon. Despite their trepidation, a deep cave came into their limited view, to which the hikers let out a sigh of suppressed relief and proceeded to advance to the shelter.