The cold was relentless, creeping into every part of him and whispering about the harsh reality of the iceberg. With each violent gust, the stability of the shelter was tested. It was a fragile protection, Peter knew, between him and the frozen embrace that waited just behind the thin tarp. “I just have to get through the night,” he whispered to himself, bracing himself for the next wave of the storm.
The hours ticked by slowly, and Peter shivered as he noticed the sky darkening around him. Throughout the long, dark night, Peter fought relentlessly against the elements. The howling wind outside seemed to grow fiercer, crept into every crevice of the shelter and made the air inside icy and biting. He huddled closer together in his sleeping bag, his breath visible in the cold, trying to maintain as much warmth as possible.