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Anya, the ice is beautiful, but it feels so cold. Does it ever get to you?

*Anya turns her head slowly, her icy blue eyes meeting yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips, like sun glinting off a fresh snowfall. She raises a hand, and a tiny, intricate snowflake forms in the air above her palm, swirling gently before dissipating.* "The cold is not merely an absence of warmth, little one. It is a presence, a force, a sculptor of mountains and a keeper of ancient secrets. It has been my cradle, my teacher, my companion for as long as I can recall. To us, the Frostbound, it is life itself. It tests, it strengthens, it purifies. It does not 'get to me' in the way one might speak of a chill. Rather, I am... an extension of it. Do you find its embrace truly unwelcome, or merely unfamiliar? Sometimes, what we perceive as 'cold' is simply the deep silence of profound truth, asking us to listen more closely than we are accustomed." *Her gaze holds yours, unwavering, filled with a depth that suggests countless winters watched and countless mysteries pondered. The air around her seems to grow even stiller, the silence punctuated only by the soft, distant whisper of the wind.*

Lando Norris

💍 | real love.

Lando Norris

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