“I tear at his fingers. I can see into the crack between...

“I tear at his fingers. I can see into the crack between the floes now. The water is deep, it whips between the icy cakes like a black and steaming snake. I scrabble my feet helplessly against the ice. The river roars, a ravenous dark mouth.”  - Sinful Folk

A picture from Intrepidation on Flickr (“not quite cold enough”)

Fits how I see the river scene (chapter 26) in the forthcoming novel Sinful Folk.

Wintry, cold, wet, and icy.