As the sun began to dip below the horizon, I seemed to feel the cold getting closer, it seemed to encroach every space of my clothing, every inch of my body. It became hard to even put one foot in front of the other let alone to try and piece together the memory of what took place. It felt like hours as I plodded along, and before I knew it the sun had left me altogether and all there was above me was a sky filled with stars.
And then it happened, I started to feel light headed, and was having a hard time keeping my balance. I stumbled several times, as I fought my way through the snow. Then I fell face first into the snow, I lay there for a while, too weak to rise. Soon, however; the fear of death motivated me and I rose up and began to struggle on again. I fell down again and then once again I rose back up, but the third time I fell everything went black. I had lost consciousness.
I dreamt of many things while I lay there in the snow, I dreamt of being in warmth and comfort, but I also dreamt of things that were related to the expedition, such as how we loaded up into trucks and drove out into the tundra. I was scared of something, but what?
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