Submission (#2536) Approved

Strynhalde is cold. 

Obviously. It’s no doubt the coldest place in all of Eyre. Ctenophora doesn’t entirely mind the cold. He’s used to frigid waters and thrives in lower temperatures; his parka-like mane and downy pelt keep him nice and warm (though it’s really annoying to dry). This place was thankfully nothing like the hot, relentless desert of Ahza, with its merciless sun and lack of rain. Though, in appearance, the vast and barren tundras in Strynhalde do kind of resemble the Ahza’s endless expanse of dunes. Just with snow instead of sand. 

He might not be bothered by the weather, but he doesn’t quite like the way his paws sink so deeply into the snow with every step or how it sticks to his fur and melts so quickly. It was a novel at first - nowhere else could one find snow in Eyre, after all - but it’s become droll the more time he spends here. Even when it’s not actively snowing, the towering white pines shower frozen bits of ice onto anyone who walks beneath them. 

The forest is quiet and, at first glance, doesn’t look as dangerous as the dark and overgrown jungles of Ealei or hold the same ancient awe as Kyendi. But no ‘nin should tread into these woods unprepared. Losing oneself in the monotony of white trees on white snow is easier than one would think, and the bitter cold has claimed just as many lives as wild beasts. Even Cteno’s fur alone wouldn’t be able to protect him for too long during the night’s deadly low temperatures. 

The Elder Tree, as in every region, is a unique depiction of everything the land represents. In Strynhalde’s case, it’s a tree of ice. Literally. The trunk is frozen solid (how does it even survive that way?) and its leaves seem as if they’re made of snow themselves.