Reinhard blinked.
He floated above a landscape that looked similar to the Icy Realm from Odin's dreams. It was an endless white expanse, frozen formations rising like sculptures, snow falling in gentle perpetual curtains.
But something felt different about this place.
He couldn't say what or why, just a subtle feeling of change. As if the fundamental nature beneath the surface appearance had changed.
But then his attention focused downward, finding the source of the disturbance. A shack perched on the bleeding edge of the icy realm. The walls were made out of blue timber, with the roof being slanted, which looked barely capable of keeping out the weather. It was small, isolated, the kind of place someone would build if they wanted to be as far from others.
Around the shack, odd icy creatures moved with curious intent. Wolves made of living frost circled the building, their bodies translucent, internal structures visible like anatomy diagrams.
