Hot Spring: Genre Undetermined

It was chance that led to him stumbling upon the hot spring. He had been plodding through drifts of snow for nearly a week. His hands were frozen numb, and he had ceased to feel his toes long ago. He slept in the saddle until he fell out of it, and when he curled up next to his horse under a brush shelter that did little to preserve their body heat, he always feared that he would not wake up in the morning. He always had, so far, but this morning he had woken up alone. His horse hadn't been able to pasture since they left the lowlands, and he'd had so little planning that he wasn't able to carry fodder for her. She'd served him well. He would have cried a little, maybe, at her death, but he knew that it would only freeze upon his cheeks. He rounded an ice-capped boulder--

Inspiration: The word that means impregnated with iron salts, like a hot spring. Unfortunately, I no longer remember what that word was.
Story Potential: Low. In and of itself, there's no story here.
Finished Length: Novel.
Notes: Fleeing, yadda yadda, post-apocalyptic survival story or possibly a fantasy novel. Both, maybe? Survival because of the hot springs. I'm not saying that this couldn't be in a story, I'm just saying that it doesn't provide enough impetus to form the story itself.