The cold was theological.
Not metaphorical — literal. Fenrath was a cold god, and his nature imposed itself on the land. His territory was cold because he was cold. The landscape reflected the divine will of a wolf-god who had been born in the deep north, who had grown up in the snow-line, and who had never, in three centuries of existence, been warm.
Ryn arrived wearing four layers and was still cold.
The Frostmarch was the kingdom's northern frontier — a vast stretch of boreal forest, tundra, and mountain that bordered the unmapped territories beyond the kingdom's control. The province was the largest by area and the smallest by population: eighty thousand residents spread across three hundred thousand square kilometers of terrain that was, to put it diplomatically, hostile to comfortable living.
