Behold, before you is an island of frost-bitten trees surrounded by waters, refusing to hibernate. White, icy fangs grimace and bite against the unruly winds, an island mighty and great.
You wonder where such a thing came from, how it arose from the depths of watery sleep.
It resists the wind, forgetting the lull and pull of the deep.
Beyond it is a vast body of water, too vast to be a lake but too small for a sea.
Will this phenomenon ever again come to be?
Curious and in awe, you approach and stand at its feet.
Come here. Come closer. With a crystallized whisper it greets.
